A/N: Hi! I'm back!

okay, now I know why people put these stories on their alerts. It's the busiest fandom I've seen so far - you update a story and a couple of hours later it's down to number 19! wow. Not that I'm complaining, there's some great stories here and I'm humbled that you actually like mine too. :)

Josh pulled him back into an alley as the door slammed and footsteps came towards them.

'That's Mason,' he identified the bigger of the two, a tough looking man with rather long hair, a muscular build and an impressive scar on the back of his hand. 'They all have those scars,' he added, noticing Flack looking at it, 'some kind of initiation thing.'

'Looks painful,' the detective remarked. He let out a breath as they passed out of sight. 'So we can't follow them – go in the house?'

'Yeah. Stephanie might be in there, anyway.'

'How old is this kid?' Flack asked as they walked towards the building, suddenly realizing he didn't actually know.

'Ten going on thirty. She knows and has seen a lot more than she should have,' he elaborated.

'And how did you get her to help you?'

'She's his daughter. That's about the only link between them.'

'Okay, one of the numbers is Paul Jacobs, and the other one is Josh Connelly. Connelly's actually a detective.' Stella announced.

'These are useless.' Mac grumbled, packing away the clothes. 'She called Josh?' he asked, looking up.

'Yeah. There were three calls made yesterday; she called Paul from the doctor's office in the morning, he called her later that evening – that must be the call Flack mentioned – and she called Josh just after that.'

'Her friend said she was scared,' Mac remarked, 'scared enough to call an officer? But why him specifically? If she thought she was in danger, why didn't she just dial 911?'

'Alyssa said they were friends,' Stella reminded him, 'maybe he told her she could call him if she was in trouble.'

'Okay. Where do we find this Paul?'

'We don't. We trace him back to the last place he worked, four years ago, and talk to his employer. Good old dad.'

'There's no record of him after that?'

'Nope.'

'And when do we talk to the father?'

'As soon as you're ready.'

'Stephanie Mason,' Lindsay murmured.

'What?' Danny asked, moving to read the screen over her shoulder.

The child in the picture was no older than ten, and had long dark hair. There was something about her that made her seem sad, and her hazel eyes spoke volumes about her frustration.

'Anything this kid hasn't done?' he remarked. 'Attempted murder, accessory to kidnapping, blackmail…'

'Because of her father,' Lindsay told him. 'Dirk Mason. All of the above and so much more. Ringleader. Only ever been arrested once, and was bailed out pretty quick. Same with everyone who works for him – they never spend more than a few hours behind bars.'

'I bet the police love that setup. Any address?'

'No. What's that?' she asked, noticing the piece of paper he was holding.

'A list,' he looked at it and read it more closely. 'Of names of women,' he continued, 'and Marcy's is on it.'

'Her father's victims?'

'A list of victims from her father for her to deal with? Sorry Montana, but the more I hear about this kid the more trouble I'm having with this faith thing.'

'Maybe not…was there anything else?'

'Nothing that makes any sense.' He told her, going back over to the table. 'A penknife, a pen, a locket, and…something I'm assuming is some kind of cell phone.' He concluded, holding up a small black box-like object.

'Why a cell phone?'

'It's got a screen and a pad with numbers,' he told her, clicking it open and grinning. 'Does that or does that not look like a flat cell phone?'

'Well you did show it to me closed,' the woman retorted. 'What's that for?' she wondered aloud, looking at a larger screen on the inside of the cover.

'Dunno. Looks like some kind of tracking device.'

Lindsay sighed. 'So, we know her name, her father and things she's been charged with. Do we…try to contact her?'

'Well, we do have to get this stuff back to her. Let's start looking for a city address.'

'You don't need those,' a young girl that Flack assumed was Stephanie told them calmly when they came in, guns drawn.

They quickly pocketed them and she smiled.

'Before you start, I don't know what you heard but I'm fine,' she announced.

'You got shot.' Josh argued concernedly, moving to sit next to her on the sofa, his hand itching to check the wound for himself.

'So you heard too much,' the girl grumbled, puling up her shirt for him to see the bandages. 'I did go to the hospital.'

She looked up, finally deciding to acknowledge the other detective. He opened his mouth to tell her his name, but she beat him to it.

'Detective Donald Flack junior, son of Don Flack senior, another cop. You're cute.' She added.

'Uh…thanks,' he smiled, slightly embarrassed. 'How did you know that?'

'It's my job to know cops. Besides, I know him. He expects me to know all his colleagues.'

'No I-' Josh began to argue. He stopped. 'Yeah, I do.' He smiled meekly. 'Just in case she needs help and I'm not around. She needs to know who she can call,' he explained.

The girl shook her head. 'I can't help you anyway. I ain't got my stuff, I left it at the hospital.' She frowned. 'I think. The cops could have taken it at the scene.'

'Even if they didn't, they've probably taken it from the hospital by now,' Flack remarked. 'Do you know who they were?'

The girl laid back and closed her eyes as she thought about it.

'No way.' Josh told her, 'if you were out of it enough for people to call CSIs, you wont have heard any names.'

'Shut up, Connelly.' She rebuked him, not bothering to move.

'See what I have to put up with?' he asked, looking up at the younger man who smiled.

Flack thought for a moment. 'Taylor, Bonasera, Messer, Monroe-'

'Not Monroe. Mon….tana. Yeah, that's it. It was a woman, and someone called her Montana.' She corrected. She looked at him, cracking one eye open. 'Did you say Messer?'

'Yeah.'

'Louie Messer?' she repeated, looking confused.

'Danny,' Josh told her, clicking his tongue, 'he's a cop.'

'Danny Messer, brother of Louie Messer, son of... Messer senior – that Messer?'

Josh glanced at Flack before he confirmed it. This time she seemed to take the hint and left it alone.

'What the heck kind of name is Montana anyway?' she giggled, then grimaced as the movement hurt her chest.

'A nickname.' Flack told her, 'it's where she's from.'

'So if people started calling you New York, you wouldn't get mad?'

'Sure I would. So does she…it's complicated.'

'They're in love,' she grinned. 'A girl from Montana in love with a Messer. That's gonna end in trouble,' she muttered.

'I'll call them and see if they've got your stuff.' He offered.

'Will you leave it alone?' Josh hissed once the detective's back was turned, 'I doubt if they know about Tanglewood. Make any more comments about it and Danny won't exactly be your best friend.'

'Yeah. Okay, I wont. What were you going to ask about anyway?'

'A girl got murdered last night, she was found in Central Park. They think you might be a witness.'

'Was it Marcy?'

'Why didn't you tell me?' Josh demanded in exasperation.

'I was kinda distracted, Tective.'

'Don't start calling me that again,' the man groaned.

'So, Flackie, what d'you get?' she asked as he turned back to them.

He raised his eyebrows. 'Flackie?'

'Yeah,' she answered, unmoved by his reaction, 'got a problem with that?' she teased.

'Well…'

'Don't bother saying yes,' Josh warned him, 'she'll do it anyway.'

'Right. They've got your things at the lab, we could bring them back to you later-'

'Why?' the girl demanded.

'Don't you want them?' the detective asked, caught by surprise.

'Sure I do. Why do I got to wait till later?'

'Because we need to go there and get them and bring them back?' Flack hazarded, completely taken aback by the questions.

'I don't get it.' she told him, frowning and shaking her head.

'What she's trying to say,' Josh interrupted before Flack could let her play with him any further, 'is that she wants to come with us and get them.'

'You're no fun.'

Mr Jacobs turned out to be an older man of around fifty, with white hair and a kind, although somewhat strained, smile as he rose to greet them.

'Thank you for seeing us,' Stella smiled, 'I'm Detective Bonasera, we spoke on the phone, and this is my partner, Detective Taylor.'

'Yes,' he nodded, shaking hands with each of them, 'please, sit down,' he told them, seating himself behind the large oak desk.

His office was a large room with a desk, a cabinet, and a few chairs and glass doors which looked out over the corridors and the other employees of the law firm of Jacobs and Associates.

'I hear you wanted to talk about my son?' he began.

'Yes,' Mac answered, 'when was the last time you spoke to him?'

The man smiled sadly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. 'I'm afraid it's been a few years. He was working here with me, and he was almost ready to take over the firm – but I was forced to fire him. He hasn't spoken to me since.'

Stella looked at his face more closely, and frowned. 'Did someone hit you?'

'What? No, of course not,' he tried to laugh it away, 'you mean this?' he asked, gently touching a fading bruise on his cheek. 'A silly accident.'

'That's a difficult place to get a bruise,' she argued carefully, not wanting to make him feel that she was attacking him. 'Was it Paul?'

'I-' the man hesitated, avoiding their gaze. He nodded, biting his lip.

'Why did he hurt you?' Mac asked.

The lawyer sighed. 'I fired him because he started drinking. He started to lose control, and would lash out at people easily… over senseless things. It was dangerous to let him stay here. A while ago, he lost his house because he never got another job and he couldn't pay for it. That was when he started calling – threatening me to help him with money and a place to stay. I tried to refuse – I don't condone what he did – and he hit me. He was drunk.'

Mac and Stella glanced at each other.

'Do you know where your son is now?' Stella asked.

'Why are you looking for him?' the man asked, finally raising his eyes to look at them, fatherly loyalty still shining in their dark depths.

He continued to stare at them as they hesitated. 'Tell me,' he repeated quietly, 'It doesn't get much worse than a father having to watch his only child destroy himself.'

'We need to talk to him,' Stella told him at last, sliding a picture of Marcy across the table. 'We think he may have been involved in the murder of that girl. Do you know her?'

'Marcy,' he murmured. 'A nice girl. She's studying law in college, and she came here a couple of years ago for an internship, to learn more about working in this kind of business. She's dead?' he repeated sadly. 'A shame.'

'Were she and Paul friends?' Mac asked.

'They were at first, but then she seemed to become afraid of him.'

'That's around when her parents said she started to change,' Stella remarked, more to her partner than the man in front of her.

Mac nodded. 'You don't know where he is?'

Mr Jacobs shook his head. 'The last time I heard from him – a couple of weeks ago – he was still in the apartment I rented for him.'

'It's rented in your name?' Stella asked.

The man nodded. 'I'm sorry, I don't have the address. He…didn't want me to have it. I just give him the money.'

The detectives glanced at each other, and nodded. It was time to go.

'Thank you for your time, sir,' Mac told him, taking back the picture.

'Anything to help,' the man answered.

He kept his surprisingly firm grip on Stella's hand as he shook it, holding her gaze. 'Promise me you wont hurt him.'

'We wont,' the woman promised with a reassuring smile, 'we just want justice. And we want to help him, if we can.'

'Thank you,' he smiled, the first genuine smile since they had arrived.

'Do you think he's the husband?' Mac asked as they left the office building.

'He's a little old for her, isn't he?'

The man gave her a disapproving look. 'Will you stop making a joke out of everything?'

'Lighten up. He does seem to be the most likely person – if he was violent and an alcoholic, maybe he forced her to marry him and if I were her, I wouldn't go around bragging about having a husband like that.'

Mac nodded in agreement, climbing into the driver's seat.

'Hey, Mac? What say we get Flack to look up this apartment and we go grab something to eat?'

'You can't be hungry again.'

'It's almost lunchtime!' the woman protested, 'I have a healthy Greek appetite. And besides, you wouldn't let me have breakfast.'

'I didn't stop you.'

'Appearing at my door at seven thirty stops me. So you're buying.'

'Okay, okay,' he held up his hands in mock surrender, 'I'll buy. What do I get?'

'A slap round the head?' she grinned. 'Sorry, you told me to stop making jokes,' she pretended to sober, 'you get another clue I just thought of,' she offered thoughtfully, staring out the windscreen and squinting a little, as if she was looking for the answer down the street.

'Thought of or thought up?' the man said quietly, pulling the car away from the curb.

'You know, the more fun she makes of you, the more it means she likes you,' Josh assured him softly as they left the house, Stephanie striding a short way ahead.

'I wish she didn't then,' Flack grumbled, 'I've never liked being called that.'

'Really? I couldn't tell from the scowl on your face.' he smiled.'She got you with those questions.Don't worry, when we get there she'll start on Mon…uh-roe.'

'She'd better not. Danny's the only one who gets away with calling her that.'

'And she's the only one who's getting away with calling you Flackie. Flackie.'

'Oh, shut up. Tective. What does that mean, anyway?'

Josh shrugged. 'Makes sense to her. Don't ask if you like your sanity.'

'She scares me. How does she know all that information about everyone? I'm surprised she didn't know Lindsay's old address.'

Josh smiled. 'She's good at remembering information. She learns everything she can about everyone – more or less what she does for her father. Gets a little carried away sometimes, but you have to remember she is only a kid – she needs to vent her energy somewhere.'

'She doesn't act like one.'

'She hasn't had much of a chance to.'

'Come on Flackie, surely those long legs can move you faster than that?' the girl called, already climbing into a car that had been parked on the street.

He pretended to ignore Josh as he started laughing.

'You think she's a mother?' Mac repeated incredulously, looking at his partner across the table as they waited for their food to arrive.

Stella nodded. 'Some women – especially if they've already had a baby before – are able to tell their pregnant early on. The doctor said that when she came for the first appointment, it was too early to tell for sure, and the second time she confirmed it.'

'Maybe she just knew her body.'

'Or maybe she's been through it before and knew about being pregnant.'

'Here's an idea,' Mac said quietly, leaning forward and making her lean towards him, 'why don't we find her husband and ask him?' he suggested, suddenly raising his voice and making her jerk back.

She scowled at him. 'Funny.'

'You told me to lighten up.'

A/N: wierd place to stop, but it was getting to ten pages, which officially makes this the longest chapter I've ever written. (hopefully long is still good)

I know, I could have got a much better scene from Josh and Flack, (there's a reason I didn't promise, lol) but it would have distracted from the rest of the story and was unnecessary, so I didn't. :( Thanks for all the responses!

btw, this story just got to 1,000 hits! (just in case anyone cared, it means a lot to me)

Thanx for all the reviews, guys!