Hey! I'm now home from the US and I am incredibly jet lagged, and I know that the last chapter wasn't posted long ago, but while it's here, I thought I'd post anyway. I'm really starting to enjoy writing this now that I know where I'm going, and so if you're enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it - then it'd mean the world to me if you could leave a review. Also if you follow the story, you'll be able to see when this is updated.
Finally, thanks to Lily Moonlight for kindly reading over this. She's an absolutely fantastic writer who you should also check out - enjoy!
Chapter Six
Stirring against the less than comfortable headrest of the car, she awoke with a start looking around in order to establish her bearings. With tired eyes, she caught sight of a blue-eyed detective who stole the occasional glance in her direction. Sending him a small smile, she settled back into the headrest, watching nothing in particular as the car moved steadily through the traffic.
"Was I out long?" she mumbled through the hoarseness brought to her voice by sleep. Don shook his head.
"Nah, about 15 minutes," he informed her. "I thought you'd passed out again, but then I heard you snoring and I knew that you had finally succumb to one of the basic human needs; sleep."
She couldn't help but let a smile grow. It wasn't a full smile by any means, but it was the closest to it she had come since she had found out that Jennifer had been murdered, and even since the events of the last year. With sadness, she was reminded of the playful banter she and Mac once shared, brought to a temporary stop by the death of his wife, Claire, and now, a seemingly permanent halt by his new relationship with Peyton. Don, although only a friend, had been a particularly good one recently, and his friendship was by no means a replacement for what she yearned for with Mac, but it was, however, a welcome distraction from all that had changed in her life. And today, the sense of longing and sadness was overwhelming. While she didn't know exactly why she felt the way that she did; Don's presence was particularly welcome in light of the events of the past twenty-four hours.
Despite a productive morning at Chelsea, she had felt a sense of deflation for the first time during the case. While the evidence was beginning to build a picture of what happened that night, she couldn't help but feel the waves of sadness and frustration passing over her again. Sure, the interviews had given them plenty to work with, and in fact, they had managed to get a few students down to the precinct for further questioning – including Jennifer's boyfriend, Paul Moretti. However, a part of her had hoped that Jennifer had exaggerated how disliked she was by her fellow classmates. A part of her had hoped that Jennifer was just a self-conscious and paranoid young adult.
She had been wrong.
When Stella had introduced herself to the students, she had earned many subsequent eye rolls. One student in particular, a petite blonde, caught her attention and had been brought in for further questioning. Andrea Alex, daughter of a wall street broker, was most openly derogatory about the young girl.
'It's not you, Detective. It's just that Jennifer never shut up about you… Am I sorry she's dead? Not particularly… You might have cared for her, but for me… for all of us – she was a stuck-up bitch.'
Stella had passed her name onto Flack's guys, asking them to take her into the precinct. Did she think she had killed Jennifer? Probably not. But she had, however, pissed her off, and so she didn't see the harm in letting Andrea sweat it out in an interrogation room for a while.
Don had taken Paul Moretti to one of the officers, asking to interview him personally. While there was quite the case building against the young medical student, Moretti had, according to Flack, been shocked by the news of his girlfriend's death. Asking to be excused, he had shed a few private tears before returning, puffy eyed, and willingly being escorted to the precinct.
Wrapping up, Stella returned to the car with Flack ready to return to the lab. Resting her head against the window, her eyelids, heavy on top of her eyes were nearly closed once more when she felt her phone vibrate in her hand and sighing, she opened the text message.
Hey, Stella. Can you come see me when you get back, please? – Danny
As she started to reply, another text came through, to which she rose her eyebrows in confusion.
In the office with Lindsay, your buddy is doing a press conference. Got a radio handy? – Danny
Turning up the radio, Flack dialled Mac. As he told Mac to tune in, she rubbed her eyes and flicking casually through the case file in her hands, she too tuned in. For a public figure, James had never been confident in public speaking, or rather, in himself. And as he started, she felt this knowledge reinforced as his voice wavered.
"Good afternoon. Much speculation has arisen from the large media presence which has taken place outside my home, and it is with a sad heart I deliver the news of my daughter, Jennifer Highsmith's murder early yesterday morning…"
Looking up from the case file, she could feel a sad smile beginning on her face. Over the past 24 hours, she had been reminded just how beautiful Jennifer was; both inside and out. Modest, kind, intelligent and fiercely loyal; it was anyone's guess why she couldn't win over her class mates hearts. Stubborn, persistent and incredibly driven, Stella couldn't help but feel a stronger identification in every part of the young girl and although she was now dead, she couldn't help but feel love and pride for Jennifer and all the memories she had left behind. A friend, a sister, Stella understood and agreed with the Senator in every aspect he mentioned of his daughter.
Catching Don's eyes once more, she knew in an instant that Don could read exactly what she was thinking. Casting her a weak smile, he brought his attention back to the road in front of him keeping part of his focus on the radio. She couldn't help but allow the corners of her mouth to turn up into a smile at his own smile.
"…But it is with complete honesty I express my anger at the perpetrator of such a senseless killing and, sadly, with the NYPD's lack of progress so far into the investigation…"
What? How could he expect "progress" the day after the murder had taken place? Murders weren't solved as quickly as many were led to believe, and took late nights, early mornings and working through dead ends until the most minute detail was found. James knew that, he had been friends with Stella long enough to know that. What was he playing at?
And so, I ask Detectives Taylor and Bonasera, the lead detectives, to work round the clock until my daughter's killer is brought to justice. Because Jennifer deserves the very justice she so believed in."
"Son of a bitch!" Don swore, pounding his first against the steering wheel as he listened into his earpiece. She assumed Mac was angry, too, no… he would be furious. How could he do this to them? He was supposed to be her friend. She had made herself ill for this case, Mac was taking verbal beatings from the Chief for this case with relatively little complaints, and he had the audacity to say such a thing on live television. Gritting her teeth, her mind focused only on one question; How dare he?
As Veronica took over on the microphone, Stella took this time to control her breathing. She was furious. She was anxious. She had no idea what she was going to do. Running her hands through her hair, she watched the cars pass by the window as she took long, shaky breaths. Deputy Inspector Gerard was going to lay into her after he had done the exact same to Mac. And Sinclair – she was finally on better terms with the Chief of Detectives and now… she could only imagine how poor her relationship, Mac's relationship, with the older man was going to be. Oh God, Mac had only just gotten past the worst of the Clay Dobson case, and now he was going to be right back to square one with his bosses.
Turning onto the street of the lab, Don pressed connected the call to the radio before explaining quietly, "Mac wants to talk to you."
Nodding she asked in return, "Mac, what's up?"
"I need you to come see me before Sinclair," he explained, little emotion beneath his voice. She knew him better than that, better than to believe he had his emotions under control. He would either take it out on his locker as shift ended, or on Stella when they were alone, but never did he show his emotions in public. It had been a long time since they had argued in public, and she didn't miss it – god no. But she noticed a side of Mac returning that she frankly didn't care much for the company of. It was a side of him she hadn't seen since Claire died.
She sighed, "Mac, I really don't have time. I have to-"
"Stella, I'm not asking," he snapped. She shifted in her seat, avoiding Don's expression of shock.
"Right," she spoke quietly. "I'll be up in two minutes."
Hanging up, Don pulled to a stop outside the lab. Taking a shaky breath, she grabbed her bag and case file before going to open the door. Don, however, placed a hand on her arm in an attempt to hold her back for a second.
"Hey, Stel," he spoke softly. "Are you two okay?"
Stopping for a moment, she thought carefully about her answer. Until recently, their working relationship had been the same as always. They were close, but professional. They bounced ideas off of one another, they helped one another to deal with their anger and frustrations, as well as celebrating the victories and one another's achievements – no matter how small. Now, they barely went out for lunch, settling instead for coffee in the break room – with the exception of yesterday, where he had made a conscious effort to try to reconnect with her, and she had thrown in back in his face. She was at fault for this seeming loss of connection. She couldn't blame Mac, not even Peyton – this was completely her doing.
She just didn't know why yet.
"Yeah," she said eventually. "It's just a tough case, for both of us."
Nodding, he placed his hand back on the wheel, "Okay, but if you change your answer; you know where I am. Good luck, Stel."
-/-
Walking into the break room, she could feel the tension thick in the air. Danny and Sheldon stood, looking over case notes and Mac, making notes from another file caught sight of her with small frowns. Taking a few steps closer, she motioned to the file in her hands.
"So, we got Moretti and a few other students at Chelsea waiting at the precinct to be interviewed," she spoke, trying to break through the atmosphere. "Flack and Angell have it under control, but I'll meet them afterwards and get their notes from them."
Danny was the first to respond, "Stel, I gotta ask. Any idea why your buddy just threw you and Mac to the wolves?"
Closing the case file in front of him, Mac paid particular attention to her answer. She knew he deserved an answer to his question, but she could only shrug in response. She had no idea what James was thinking.
"I haven't spoken to James since he and Veronica turned up at the crime scene, I swear."
Danny and Hawkes nodded, but Mac seemed less convinced. Standing up, he walked closer to her, "If you know something, Stella-"
"What I know, is that he lost his entire world yesterday and he probably doesn't know what to say or do to make it better. When people are feeling down, or bereaved, they make mistakes which can have far-reaching consequences for other people, Mac," she reminded him harshly. "You of all people should know that!"
And suddenly, they were closer than could be considered appropriate, drawn to one another firstly, by their mutual frustration at the case, but particularly one another. Forgetting the presence of Danny and Hawkes, she felt her breath catch in her throat as Mac clenched his hands at his side before countering with "While you take a trip down memory lane, I'll try and save our jobs, shall I?"
She could neither speak, nor nod her head, so instead waited for him to back down. They had both seemingly frozen when they realised what had just happened, and even through the anger, she seen shock flashing through his pale blue eyes. Apologising silently for his actions, they began to soften and her emerald eyes replaced anger with orbs of nothing. She deserved to be yelled at, shouted at, and she would willingly take such treatment from Mac if it meant he wasn't keeping it bottled up, whatever it was he was feeling. It didn't make it easier, being at the receiving end of his temper, but she cared too much about him to let him retreat back into his shell.
Even with this fact reasoned in her mind, the words she wanted to say caught in her throat in a lump, and Mac seemed to feel the same way, as he remained silent. Tension filling in the room, Stella had completely discounted the presence of Sheldon and Danny, concentrating solely on the proximity of her own body to her partner's. His usually comforting touch now made her nervous, and as their eyes continued to watch one another's, a voice finally catalysed their separation.
"Bonasera? Taylor?"