-1Hey guys,

Thanks again to everybody that has read and reviewed so far. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

Chapter Nine

"Convery."

"Ali? Ali, it's Lindsay. Where's Don?"

"Lindsay, he…ehm…he just had to step out for a minute. Something to do with the case. Anything I can do?"

"Reiners gave me something."

"Yeah?"

"He told me to look for a friend of his, someone that shared his interests. Can you pass that onto Mac? It might give him some thing to look for."

Ali heard her draw a shuddering breath, her control torn and ragged, tottering on the brink. Almost falling. Almost broken, shattered by the Aaron's grin, by the smell of his cigarettes, by the darkness in his soul.

Again.

"Lindsay? You okay?"

"Yeah. I just need a moment. I have to go, Ali. I have to get back in there."

"You're going back in there? Lindsay, walk away. Let us chase this down. I'll go get Don, we'll find this friend and…"

"He might have more for me, Ali. I wont risk him walking away from this." Her voice hardened. "I wont let him walk away. I wont let anyone else die because of him."

"Lindsay…."

"I have to go, Ali."

The phone went dead. "Shit. Stubborn fucking people…they're as bad as each other. Of all the fucking stupid things…"

Hawkes glanced up from the table. "Problems?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. Reiners gave Lindsay something." She smiled suddenly, her eyes glinting. "Do you feel like a trip?"

"Where to?"

"Reiners' apartment. Lets see if we can find this friend of his."

Hawkes nodded. "I'll let Stella know."

XxxXXXxxx

Stella knocked on the door of his office. "You get anything?"

Mac glanced up, his forehead creased with concentration and frustration. "Nothing so far." He rubbed wearily at his eyes. "Nothing but James Sinclair." He shook his head. "I don't even know what I'm looking for."

"Lindsay phoned Ali. Reiners gave her something."

"Really? What?" It didn't take much to revive Mac's spirit. The lines eased from his forehead, the weariness, gone, replaced by eagerness, his enthusiasm for the hunt restored, his eyes bright and hungry.

"It's a friend of his, or someone that shares his interests. Ali and Hawkes are going to chase it down."

"I'll get back to this." Mac lifted the visitors book, his attention focused on the names, concentrating, almost forgetting that she was in the room.

"Where's Steele?"

"His boss phoned. Said she needed him on another case."

"You want a hand?" She waved a hand at the pages of visitor logs. "Going through all that?"

He looked up. "You sure? What about the evidence from the scenes?"

"Come on, Mac. You know we're not going to get anymore from that. We've done all we can there. We need more than that, and the only place we're going to get it is if we find a name in that list."

"Stella…."

"I need to keep busy, Mac." Her voice softened, almost breaking. "I need to keep busy."

"Okay."

XxxXXXxxx

November 3rd

He lifted the phone and pressed his hand against the glass. "Hello. I've been waiting for you. I hoped you'd come tonight."

"Hello, Aaron." His visitor pressed his hand against his on the glass, their palms separated by the thickness of the glass. "I stayed away as long as I could, just like you told me. But I had to come tonight."

"Did you use your real name?"

"Of course I didn't, Aaron. You taught me better than that."

"Good." Aaron smiled and nodded, his eyes alight with a paternal glow. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure? There can be no mistakes, no turning back, not once you start. One step on this path, and you must follow it all the way. You can turn back now, and I can wait until you are ready."

"I'm ready, Aaron. I swear it."

He held his gaze for a second longer, then nodded. "Good. You'll do well."

"Thank you."

"Have you chosen one?"

"Yes. You should see her, Aaron, she's beautiful." He leaned forward, his eyes dark and malicious, seeming to glow with barely contained lust and anger. "She looks just like her, too. She's perfect."

"Good."

"I wish you could see her."

"I will see her." He took his hand off the glass and tapped it against his temple. "I'll see her in here."

XxxXXXxxx

December 24th 1300

"Nice place." Hawkes ran his hand along the book case, tracing the titles with a gloved finger. "This guy is obsessed."

"I know. You should have heard some of the shit he was yelling when we arrested him. Then, by the time we got him back to the House, he was ice cold, started asking to talk to Lindsay." She paused. "That shit with the photos. We should have seen it then. I should have seen it then."

"We all missed it. You can't blame yourself for that."

"Don does." Ali pulled open the drawer of a desk with more force than was necessary, searching through its contents with her gloved hands. "He thinks I should have seen it. I should have seen it. It's my fault that she's in that room, letting that bastard play his games with her."

Her voice trailed away, and she slammed the drawer closed, pulling open another one.

"What are you looking for?"

"An address book or a diary or something like that."

Movement at the door caught her attention and she looked up, her hand dropping automatically to the gun holstered at her hip. Hawkes followed her gaze, stepping to the side, out of her line of fire.

A young man stood at the door of the flat, wrapped up well against the chill December air, glaring at them, his eyes dark and flat. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm Detective Convery, NYPD and this is Dr. Hawkes, from the Crime Lab. We're looking for…"

"I know who you are, Detective. You and your partner arrested Aaron Reiners. Why are you here?" He took a step towards her, and instinctively Ali moved from behind the desk, giving herself room to move, thumbing the catch, placing her hand on her gun.

"What's your name, sir?" Hawkes spoke softly, breaking the tension, drawing the man's attention to him.

"Zeke. Zeke Michaels."

"Do you know Aaron Reiners?"

"Yeah." Zeke looked back at Ali, glaring at her, defiantly. "Yeah, he's a friend of mine."

XxxXXXxxx

November 4th

He squeezed her hand, trying to give her some of his strength, his faith. Trying to reassure her that this was almost over.

Finally, it was almost over.

It had been hard to see Reiner sitting there for three days, watching her, revelling in the despair and pain that he caused her. Revelling in the nightmares he had given her, revelling in the darkness.

He fought to control his anger. She didn't need him angry, she didn't need him to fight her battles for him. She needed him by her side, supporting her.

His mouth twisted in a sneer as he watched the defence lawyer lean over to confer with his client. Her first time in court in New York and she had to face James Sinclair.

Jim Steele stood up and faced the jury, adjusting the buttons on his perfect suit.

"The People call Detective Lindsay Munroe, of the New York Crime Lab."

End of Chapter Nine.

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