Chapter 16

Calling Peyton to tell her he wouldn't be home for dinner? At midnight? Bullshit. What he needed, more than anything, was to hear her voice. He needed to hear her voice and to fall in love with her all over again. He couldn't be in love with Stella. He loved Peyton, only Peyton.

"Mac, hi," she spoke, a familiar twang in her voice that brought him a little comfort. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Did I wake you? Sorry, I'm at the hospital and I needed to hear your voice."

"The hospital? Are you okay?" She panicked. "I'll be right there."

"It's Stella, she was shot."

He could feel her relax over the phone. It wasn't that she didn't like Stella, he assumed she had just preferred Stella was injured rather than Mac. Fair enough, he thought, he would have much preferred James took that bullet than Stella. Not that he'd ever admit it, of course. Because that would mean admitting he was in love with her out loud, and that would make it real.

"Oh God. Is she okay?"

He sighed, "I don't know."

Peyton was silent for a moment, pondering the right thing to say, probably. He didn't expect her to say the right thing, how could he? Peyton did like Stella, but it took him a long time to convince her that they were just friends. So she had spent a long time suspicious of her intentions with Mac, and in all honesty, hadn't really taken the time to get to know her.

Stella, on the other hand; had welcomed Peyton with open arms.

"Would you like me to bring you a change of clothes? Something to eat?"

"No," he replied. "I just wanted you to know in case I'm not in work tomorrow. I'll ask one of the guys to grab my clothes from my locker. But thank you, Peyton."

"Alright, keep me updated. Love you."

"See you later."

Hanging up, he reclaimed his seat beside Jess, who was preoccupied with her phone. She acknowledged him with a nod.

"So, do you and Peyton always have dinner at midnight? Is that some kind of English thing?"

"Yeah, you know; she's 5 hours behind, after all."

Jess smirked, eyes still fixed on her phone. Mac looked at her curiously.

"So, how's Flack?"

"Desk duty," she mumbled. "Getting bored. Said he's going to kick Stella's ass when she's out of surgery."

He shook his head, "She could be doped up on morphine and still kick his ass. It's not really a fair fight, is it?"

Her face suddenly turned solemn, "Mac, what's wrong with Stella?"

He was no doctor, but his best guess? She was depressed and tired and overwhelmed. Stella had been through the mills in this last year, so he couldn't (and wouldn't) blame her for her actions these past few weeks. He'd felt exactly the same after Claire died, and who was there for him? Stella. He'd let her down with everything she'd went through. He'd left her to deal with the aftermath of Frankie on her own. He'd been so preoccupied with Clay Dobson that he'd neglected her throughout her HIV scare. Now, he made a promise to himself that whatever was going on here, he'd be by her side. If she was honest with him, he would do whatever it took for her.

"I'm not sure," he finally replied. "But when she wakes up, we can ask her. Not just that, we can ask her how we can help."

"She's tough, isn't she?" Jess mused.

Mac nodded, maybe that's the problem.

The palm of Danny's hand collided with the cold steel of the interrogation table, his anger resonating in the small room. Both Lindsay and the perp flinched at this action, but Danny was on a mission. Lindsay knew he and Stella were close, but she wasn't entirely sure that the intimidation act would do her any good.

"Listen, buddy. You shot a cop, your son shot an innocent kid. You don't have any room here to not tell me the truth, alright. So start explaining."

The man was shaking, she noted. And out of the dark university campus, unarmed and emotional, he almost looked soft. His hair was light brown and lightly styled, dressed down in jeans and a shirt. His gentle blue eyes fought back tears as he spoke, and despite shooting her friend only an hour or so ago, Lindsay fought her instincts to hug him.

"I'm sorry, this is a lot to take in. I've never even had a speeding ticket."

Lindsay nodded, "I know this is difficult. Why don't you start by telling us your name? I'm Detective Monroe, this is Detective Messer."

Danny scowled as the man spoke, "My name is Scott Diabase. I teach high school maths at a school in the Bronx. I didn't mean to shoot that cop, I swear. Is she going to be okay?"

"Her name is Stella Bonasera and she's more than just a cop, she's a damned good one," snapped Danny. Tears finally fell from Scott's eyes and Danny seemed satisfied. It was unprofessional, and perhaps he should have sat this one out. But Lindsay would have been hypocritical to say such a thing to him. After all, she hadn't forgotten how unprofessional she'd been when Stella was in hospital last year after Frankie.

"Tell me about your son", she asked, in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

"His name is Liam, he was in the same Biochemistry class as Jennifer. She wasn't this amazing kid, the way the media is making her out to be. She was nasty, manipulative."

Danny sighed, "Oh yeah? Why's that, then?"

"My wife was a journalist, New York Times. She wrote a piece about Senator Highsmith, she said it was going to ruin him. Only he managed to wriggle his way out of it, sued Lisa (my wife) for defamation. She got sacked and he got re-elected."

"What was the article about?" Asked Lindsay. Even Danny had went quiet, curiosity peaked.

"James Highsmith had slept around with every single woman on his staff. Threatened them afterwards, said if they went public - there would be consequences. Of course, one of the women did, came straight to Lisa, didn't they? Not only that, they had files and files of paper proving political handouts, NYPD coverups - whatever was shady and illegal, Highsmith was into it?"

"Was he... sexually assaulting these women?"

Scott shook his head, "No. But he couldn't stand the thought of his marriage in the gutter and threatened to make these women's lives a misery. When most likely, they wouldn't have breathed a word anyway."

Danny, no longer interested, spoke up, "So what's this got to do with your son killing Jennifer?"

"Well," spoke Scott. "When Lisa lost her job, she couldn't get hired anywhere. No one wanted to work with her, for her - she was screwed. As if that wasn't bad enough, he had her followed, threatened her, too. Made her life a living hell. She couldn't stand it anymore and she killed herself. Now Liam was a mess after she died, he even saw a shrink for a while. But he never blamed her, Jennifer, for it. It was her dad's doing, she was, at that point an innocent party."

"What changed?"

"I think he made Jennifer nervous. Jennifer was one of the brightest in the class, but so was he. He didn't come from big money or industry connections like she did; he got there on hard work alone and she really didn't like that. She was a bully, always trying to make him feel small. Her dad had some big shot contact and she'd undermine him every chance she got. She would remind him how easy it would be for her dad to ruin his life too. She was constantly chiding at him over his mother's death and I guess he just couldn't take it anymore. He snapped, and I don't blame him in all honesty."

Lindsay cleared her throat, "We're going to need to talk to your son, Scott. Those are some heavy allegations you've made and we still don't know the full story. Like how he got into Jennifer's building, where he got the gun..."

"You'll have to ask him that, detectives. He should be at home - he's not going to run."

Both sighed and got up heavily from the desk, the toll of the day finally hitting them both. Danny paused.

"You'll both plead. You for shooting Detective Bonasera, and your son for the murder of Jennifer Highsmith?"

He nodded, "I wanted there to be another way, detectives. He's a good kid. And I do hope your friend is okay. Liam knew this was going to happen, he won't fight it."

As Danny and Lindsay left the room, they took a moment to gather their thoughts. Three lives ruined, over what? James' adultery and possible criminal activities, Jennifer's insecurities and Liam's instability? Seemed like a waste, really.

"Is it too late to go for a drink?" he asked. This wasn't Danny flirting or asking her on a date, this was his exhaustion speaking. This job really took its toll, she thought, remembering no comparable state when working in Montana. Probably because she didn't adore her team back home half as much as the team in New York.

She saw Don approach in her peripheral vision, acknowledging him only with the slightest of nods.

"You two look like shit," he mused. "How did that go?"

"He said he and his son are both going to plead. We need to get the son, Liam, in for questioning, see if he can shed some light on this situation. We'll be arresting him on suspicion of murder, dad says he won't resist arrest," Lindsay said, leaning on the wall for support.

"Right," replied Don. "Lindsay, why don't you head home? Danny, Mac needs you to take some things to him in the hospital. Clothes, food; Jess is there too. Mac says he has a change of clothes in his locker, get them some snacks and he'll pay you back. I'll get some uniforms over to the kid's house, get him brought in. You can interview him in the morning."

"I'll come to the hospital with you, Danny," she smiled. "I'd rather be there if there's any news."

Danny couldn't help but smile in spite of himself, "Can't bare to be away from me, Montana?"

"Nah, can't trust you to do anything by yourself now, can I?"

Thank you for all the kind reviews! I do hope this chapter was alright and I'll get the final few up in the next couple of days!