Mac arrived back at the lab with his evidence. Stella looked at him a moment. "I heard what happened," she said. "Adam told me."

Mac put his briefcase on the table. "I have emails and insurance policies, divorce papers, prenups."

Stella looked at the papers. "Looks like plenty of motive," she said. "How do we prove it now?"

"We put all this together and go find a judge who will give us a warrant," Mac said. He looked at Stella. "I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier."

"Don't worry about it."

Mac frowned. "I guess I better go and monitor the news." He went to his office and sat down. He felt tired now. He leaned back in his chair and turned the TV on. However, he fell asleep before he saw anything important.

After a while, Stella came out of the lab. She saw Mac sleeping. She went into the office and felt of his coat pockets, and she found the pill bottle. She looked at Mac. She couldn't believe he was taking those again, but then again, she didn't know how badly he had been hurting. Maybe he was in pain. She knew Mac liked to hide things like that. She put the bottle back in his pocket and went over to Mac's desk. Just as Stella was about to wake him up, she saw some reporter come on the news with a special report. It was all about what Mac had just found out, and the reporter claimed to have learned it from "Detective Mac Taylor".

Stella looked at Mac. She knew he would have to find out soon. She touched his shoulder. "Mac, wake up," she said.

Mac opened his eyes slightly. "I don't want to get up yet," he said.

"Mac, wake up. You're in the office."

Mac opened his eyes and looked around him. He sat up and rubbed his face. "I'm sorry, I must have drifted off," he said. Then he looked at the TV.

Stella felt sorry for Mac. This was going to be a mess if she ever saw one. Just then, Mac's desk phone rang. He looked at Stella. "You better go," he said. "This is going to be an ugly conversation."

Stella left the office and Mac answered the phone. "Taylor!" the Commissioner said. "Get your self up to my office right now!"

Mac heard the phone slam down. He hung up the phone. He got up and put his coat on. He supposed he could use it for a flack jacket. Stella watched him go to the elevator. She couldn't believe this was happening to him. Didn't they know Mac would never leak information out like that?

Mac went up to the commissioner's office. "Go right on in, Detective," the secretary said, when she saw him.

Mac went to the door and went on inside. The deputy inspector was there. He glared at Mac. "You're trying to ruin me!" he said.

"I'm not trying to do anything except solve this case!" Mac said.

Shawn walked toward Mac. He was quite a bit taller than Mac, but Mac was not one bit intimidated. He stared at him. "I'm not one bit afraid of you and I'm not intimidated by your job either!" Mac said.

"That is enough!" the Commissioner said. "Shawn, you get out. Taylor, you sit down!"

Shawn walked out of the office. Mac sat down in a chair. "I gave you strict orders not to let information about this case leak out to the press!" the Commissioner said.

"Sir, I did not leak out that information," Mac said.

"Then why do I hear the name 'Detective Mac Taylor' all over the news?!"

"That secretary was listening to Adam and me when we were in Hillary King's office. I didn't know it until we saw the intercom button. We're looking for her now!"

"You still let that information get out. Did you hear what they're saying? They're saying the chief of detectives was being blackmailed by Charlotte Jones because she found out he was sleeping with the deputy inspector's wife. They're saying Sinclair killed Charlotte and then was in a conspiracy with the inspector to kill Hillary King, because she was threatening a divorce and Shawn threatened to smear the chief all over the news and the city if he didn't help him get rid of her. The two women were killed the same way. The press is eating this up!"

"I never told that story! That's not even my theory!"

"OH? Well, I would sure love to hear your theory."

Mac rubbed his face. "I think the inspector found out about this affair and he confronted his wife about it, and she demanded a divorce. He knew he couldn't get a dime if they divorced, so he hired someone to kill her, and he also had Charlotte Jones killed in the chief's apartment to bring the light onto him. I need to get into the inspector's bank records so I can find out if he had withdrawn a large amount of money or transferred some. He and his wife had insurance policies on each other."

The Commissioner stared at Mac with a hard glare. "Do you really expect me to go along with that?" he asked.

Mac sighed. "It's the only theory I have," he said. "I think that the inspector killed these two women, or at least, had it done."

"Do you know how long I have been working with Shawn?"

"Sir, with all due respect. It doesn't matter how long you've been working with someone. Money can make people do things they wouldn't normally do."

"You really think he killed those two women?"

"Yes."

The Commissioner leaned back in his chair and stared at Mac. Mac felt like a kid in the principal's office. He didn't know if that was quite this bad though. He remembered when anyone had to sit in the hall, they hoped the teacher would call them back in before that principal came down the hall. One could hear him coming when he came out of the office. Mac thought he had worn those shoes so everyone would know when he was coming down the hall.

The commissioner slapped his desk, causing Mac to jump. "Am I losing you, Taylor?" he asked.

Mac stared at him a moment. "No, sir," he said.

Ross leaned on his desk. "I realize you've been through a lot lately, Taylor. Maybe a case like this is too much for you right now."

"What are you saying?"

"I just told you."

"This case is not too much for me. I'm doing fine. All I need is a chance to prove what I'm saying. Can't you just give me access to their finances? If they're not guilty, then I'll be the first to apologize."

The Commissioner seemed to consider that. "Alright, Taylor. Your work's always been good. I'll get you a warrant myself, but if this doesn't pan out, you're going to apologize and you're going to stay away from the chief and the inspector."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

Mac went to the door. He thought that went better than he had anticipated. He thought the Commissioner would send him off to do some low paying job for a while. "Oh, one other thing, Taylor," the Commissioner said.

Mac looked at him. "Yes?"

"They need someone to temporarily write parking tickets over on 35th. I think you would do a good job at that for a while."

Mac stared at him. "Today?"

"Yes." The commissioner looked at his watch. "It should take at least three hours to get this warrant. You can fill in that job for that long and I expect you to be down there every afternoon by three for the next two weeks."

Mac couldn't believe it. He had heard of people being punished like this, but he had never…well, he remembered having to direct traffic before when he got in trouble. "Get moving, Taylor," the commissioner said. "And don't talk to anyone else about this case."

Mac left the office and went down to the squad room. Don was back now. "Mac, I heard about what happened," he said.

"Not now, Don," Mac said. "I have a job to do."

"Where you going?"

"Never mind."

Mac went out and got a cab down to the DMV. He couldn't believe this. He had to do it or he would be in worse trouble. He went in and told them he was there to fill in for the meter maid. "Oh, yes, you're Detective Taylor," the woman said, trying not to smile. "The Commissioner told us you would be coming."

Mac tried not to roll his eyes. "Well, I'm here, so what do you want me to do?" he asked.

The woman gave him a hat and a ticket book. "Get out there on thirty-fifth and check all those parking meters."

Mac frowned. He had never been so embarrassed…then again, he guess he had been embarrassed worse than this. He put the hat on and took the ticket book. "Oh, and put your badge on your coat pocket there so everyone will know you're legit."

Mac clipped his badge to his coat breast pocket. "Thanks," he said. "Is someone going to drive me over there?"

"Sure, Sam will drive you."

Mac was soon at 35th street. "Good luck," Sam said.

"Thanks," Mac said. He got out and headed down the street. He hoped no one he knew saw him doing this. It had been years since he wrote parking tickets. He remembered doing this when he was in Chicago. It was a beginner's job. He had definitely learned to deal with the public. People were mean and irritable when someone wrote them a ticket for a parking meter. He thought they had to pick up more tickets off the street than people had actually taken with them. Still, they had a record.

Mac began looking at parking meters. He thought maybe he could clear his head out here. He would be exhausted by the time he walked this street for three hours. His side was starting to ache again. He finally found a meter that had expired. He opened his ticket book and took down the tag number. The vehicle was a red truck. The meter was overdue by an hour. He wondered where this person was.

Suddenly, a woman came out of a beauty parlor. "Young man!" she said. "I couldn't get out here to that meter!"

Mac looked at her, and was surprised to see that she had rollers in her hair and a drape around her shoulders. "I was getting a perm in there!" the woman said.

"Now, hold on," Mac said. "This meter has been tripped for an hour. You can't tell me that you didn't have time in a whole hour to come out here and put more money in there."

The woman glared at him. "I had waving lotion on my hair! You have to stay warm for it to work!"

"That's not my problem. You should have gotten someone else to put some money in for you."

"Well, I never!"

Just then, two more women came out of the beauty parlor with rollers in their hair. "What's wrong, Abigail?" one of them asked.

"This meter maid is writing me a ticket!" Abigail said.

"I am not a meter maid," Mac said.

"You look like one to me!" Abigail put some money into the meter. "There!"

"You still have a ticket," Mac said.

"You'll be sorry for this!"

"I'm already sorry. I'm sorry for trusting people." Mac put the ticket on the car. "Excuse me, ladies."

Mac could hear them all fussing as he walked away. This was going to be a long three hours. Just then, his phone rang. "Taylor," he said.

"Mac, where are you?" Stella asked.

"Don't ask. What is it?"

"I'm just wondering how things went with the commissioner."

"I'll live. He didn't shoot me."

"Mac, come on. Where are you?"

"I'll see you later, Stella."

Mac ended the call. He didn't want everyone knowing he was down here writing parking tickets. He figured they would know soon anyway. He was sure that woman at the DMV would be very amused to tell it. "Detective Mac Taylor is reduced to writing parking tickets because he let information get out about a sensitive case". He thought that might be tomorrow's headlines. Everybody seemed to think his displeasure was funny. He knew he couldn't keep this a secret for two weeks. Everyone would want to know where he was disappearing everyday at three.

Mac's feet were hurting by the time his phone rang with the commissioner's number. "Taylor," he said, wearily.

"Taylor, we're not going to be able to get that warrant yet," the Commissioner said.

"Why?"

"The judge won't be back in his office till tomorrow morning. I didn't catch him in time. We'll get it then."

Mac wondered what else was going to happen today. "You can finish out this day down there, Taylor," the Commissioner said. "See you tomorrow."

"Sir…" The call ended before Mac could say anything else. He sighed and put his phone away. All he needed was for Don Flack to come by and see him out here doing this. He thought he was going to have blisters on his feet.

Mac's phone rang again. "Taylor," he said.

"Mac, where are you?" Stella asked.

"Stella, don't ask me that again."

"Are you outside? I hear traffic. Have you got a lead?"

"I'm not working on the case."

"Then, where are you?"

"I'm serving out my punishment, okay?"

"Punishment?"

"Yeah! I'm being punished for letting information leak out!" Mac started to throw his hat down, but he would just have to pick it up. "Yes, I'm a meter maid today! Don't forget to tell everybody to come over to thirty-fifth and stare at me!"

"Mac, are you serious?"

"Do I sound serious?"

"You mean, he actually made you go and write parking tickets?"

"Yeah. I'm writing parking tickets. Detective Taylor, the head of the crime lab!"

Stella was doing everything in her power not to let him hear that she could hardly keep from laughing. "What time do you get off?" she asked.

"At sundown!"

"I'll pick you up."

"Fine!"

Stella almost felt sorry for him, but she felt more amused. "See you later."

Mac put his phone away and started walking again. He couldn't keep from grimacing as he walked. His feet felt like raw meat. He was always on his feet all day, but not out here on this concrete. By the time he was through for the day, he thought his feet were bleeding in his shoes. He had written thirty parking tickets, so his right hand didn't feel much better.

Finally, he saw Stella in the Avalanche. She blew the horn at him. Mac frowned and got in. He took his hat off and threw it in the back seat. "I have to go turn this in," he said, referring to his ticket book.

Stella was trying to hide the amused smile that was threatening her face. "I know just what you need," she said.

Mac leaned back on the seat and closed his eyes. "I need sleep," he said. "My feet are killing me."

"When we get home, I'm going to give you a massage."

Mac didn't think there could be anything better than that. Stella drove to the DMV, and Mac got out. He grimaced as his feet protested his walking on them anymore. He limped into the building and turned in his ticket book. "You'll be back in tomorrow, right?" the supervisor asked.

"Yes," Mac said.

"Tomorrow you'll be on Park Ave. There's a lot of parking violations over there."

"Whatever."

"See you then…Detective."

Mac glared at her just a little. "Don't be glaring at me," she said. "I'm your supervisor when you're here, detective or not. I'll stick you in the worst part of town if you mess with me."

"Sorry," Mac said. He went back out to the Avalanche. He slammed the door when he got in. "Lets go."

Stella could tell he was not at all happy. "How long do you have to do this?" she asked.

"Two weeks!"

"Are you hungry?"

"No. I think I ate something at every bakery and fruit shop on that street! I'm stuffed."

Stella drove to her apartment and they went in. She took Mac's coat and hung it on the coat rack. He sighed. "I'm really tired," he said. He didn't feel like arguing with her about their sleeping arrangement. Right now, he didn't think he could move enough to do anything even if she wrapped herself around him.

"Go and take a bath," Stella said.

"I think my feet are covered with blisters. Some of them popped around the fifteenth ticket."

Stella grimaced herself. "Come in here and lie down and I'll look at them."

Mac went into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. "I can't believe I'm being punished," he said. "I'm not a kid."

"You have superiors though," Stella said. She pulled Mac's shoe off.

"Careful."

Stella took his other shoe off and then carefully pulled off his socks. Mac groaned a little. Stella was shocked. He had been right about the blisters. She looked at Mac. "I take it these shoes aren't made for walking all day," she said.

"I found that out," Mac said. "Do they look as bad as I thought?"

"Worse. I'll be right back."

Stella went into the bathroom and got the first aid kit. She took the spray disinfectant out. She looked at Mac. "I'm afraid this is going to sting," she said. "But then it will numb the pain so I can clean them."

"Go ahead."

Stella sprayed Mac's feet. He sat up. "Ow!" he exclaimed, but he lay back down.

"I'm sorry," Stella said.

Mac relaxed as the pain dwindled to nothing. Stella cleaned his feet and wrapped them in bandages. "I guess you won't be taking a bath till tomorrow morning," she said.

"I guess not," Mac said. He felt relieved now. "I'm tired."

Stella put her hands on her hips. "You want me to get you ready for bed?" she asked.

Mac raised up his head and looked at her. "No," he said. "Then again…"

"Sit up."

Mac sat up with a loud groan. Stella kissed him. "Was it that bad?" she asked.

"Yes," Mac said. "I was cursed out I don't know how many times. Someone threatened to let their dog out of the truck after me, and it was a German Shepherd. These three women from a beauty parlor fussed at me. They all had rollers in their hair."

Stella couldn't help but laugh. "See? You just met all kinds of interesting people."

Mac looked at her. "I meet enough interesting people on my own job."

"But, these people weren't guilty of murder."

Mac sighed. "I don't know. I just don't like the idea of being punished like this."

Stella pulled his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoned it. Mac watched her. Then he looked into her eyes. She pulled his shirt off and then his t-shirt. "I think I can take care of the rest," he said.

Stella kissed him. "If you want to," she said. She kissed him again.

"Don't try to seduce me," Mac whispered.

Stella rubbed his chest. She could feel his heart pounding. "Why are you afraid to take the next step?" she asked.

"I'm not ready for this," Mac said.

"Why?"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. I don't want to go through that humiliation again."

"I thought we had already talked about everything."

"We have, but I still can't get over the fact that I enjoyed it. I didn't enjoy it, but I did…" Mac looked at Stella. "How can you enjoy something when you didn't enjoy it?"

"Mac, she drugged you."

"I wonder if it was because it had been so long. Maybe I 'did' enjoy it."

"Don't do this to yourself."

"You don't understand. I…" Mac stood up. His feet felt like raw meat. "I just want to get in the bed." He pulled the covers back and then got undressed. He didn't care if Stella did see him. He got into the bed in his underwear. "I'm tired. I don't want to think about all this! It's like it haunts me all the time! Every time I think I want to get closer to you, there it is!"

Stella stared at him a moment. "I don't think you're going to get past it by running from it," she said.

Mac turned over the other way. "Good night." He barely knew when Stella got into the bed, but he felt her bare skin against his. She kissed his back and then put her arm around him.

"Good night, Mac," Stella whispered.