D: I don't own CSI NY.
He thought about how the victim had talked about how rainy the night was. The blogger was standing out there for several minutes. He's probably soaked. I should get him some clothes so he doesn't die on me. That wouldn't be good. He was at the apartment in fifteen minutes. One key opened the front door while another opened the apartment, which he found out by the mail boxes set in the stairs.
He quickly picked out some items from the blogger's closet and decided to search through the items in the apartment for a lead on the contact. He went through several papers and quickly went through the computer for any information. He's smarter than I give him credit for. It's not out in the open. He leaned back in the chair at the desk and looked at the computer. A moment's thought and he was packing up the computer to try and crack it more at the building.
As he passed the shelves to the doors, he failed to notice the one thing that would have helped him figure out the contact. There was a line of pictures. The first was a woman wearing a brown overcoat and smiling at the camera, or more likely at the person behind the camera. The second was of the woman with Detective Taylor. The third was of Detective Taylor with his arm around the blogger. Taylor was wearing a suit; the blogger was in a navy blue gown. They had their arms around each other and were smiling at the camera.
--
Mac gave the job of analyzing the letter to Stella while Danny and Hawkes finished processing the clothes from the victim. He had gone to his office to search for his phone to call Reed and see if he couldn't get an answer. His eyes scanned his desk and hit the picture of Reed's graduation from college.
"Why did you double up on classes?" Mac asked Reed after the ceremony.
"Wanted to get through faster. Get out into the world faster."
"Why would you want to get out into the world faster?"
"So I can get to the bigger stories first."
"Faster isn't always better."
His flashback was interrupted by Stella bringing results from the letter. "Normal paper, normal pen. The only thing not normal with it was that when it was sitting around. It picked up traces of sea salt. Now, what makes it unique is that there were several different compounds mixed in with the salt. All of which point to a specific part of the Atlantic."
"Stella, we live next to the Atlantic."
"Right, but we stopped using lead in our gasoline back in the '70's. Several South American countries still do. The lead leaches into the air. Falls down in the rain and becomes a part of the environment. A case a few years ago in Vegas was named death by chocolate due to the lead that had been absorbed by the cacao plant used to make the chocolate. Their victim constantly ate a certain brand of chocolate and died from all the lead that was in the chocolate."
"Where does this lead us?"
"Several fish processing plants use to get fish from these places, but after lead was detected in high levels of the fish, the government put a ban on the fish. One company didn't stop. They had a processing plant in the city. It's been closed for the last five years." Mac grabbed his gun and his badge and followed Stella out.
--
Flack was directing SWAT around the building. Mac and Stella were hanging by the front entrance. Danny, Lindsay and Hawkes were waiting by the cars for the all clear. Mac, Stella and Flack had vests on and the SWAT was fully equipped. Flack gave the signal and several members went through the back. Flack headed in first followed by Mac and Stella. They went through several halls before ending in the main processing room.
Most of the equipment had been moved out five years ago. The pieces left were rusted and falling in on themselves. Several men were searching the place and going around them. A short squawk on the radio indicated that no one was present in the building. "Damn it," Mac said, looking around the room for any clue that the killer had Reed there at some point.
"Mac." Stella pointed out a table that held a digital recorder and a disc in a case. "He wants us to play the recording at the same time as the disc."
"Mac, three of the SWAT guys just found bags with clothes in them," Flack reported.
"Anything on them?"
"Nothing that they can see."
"All right, let's get Danny, Lindsay and Hawkes in here. I want to know if there's any connection to another place that the Cabbie Killer could be using."
--
He walked into the room where he was holding the blogger. He had fallen asleep in the corner that he had regressed to. He wanted to see what would wake him up. Setting the clothes down by the blanket, he sat down next to him. He picked the right hand and moved the fingers. He watched the face for the slow sign of waking. There was nothing, so he tugged on his shoulder a little. Still nothing. He started playing with the hair and stroking his face.
He's not sleeping. The eyes squeezed and the body started to shake lightly. "Wake up," he cooed, still stroking his face. The body started to shake a little more. "Wake up." He refused to open his eyes. He took out a knife and slid out the sharpest blade. He placed it against his neck. His eyes popped open. "Good boy. Good blogger. Or do you call yourself a journalist?" He moved the knife and slit the tape around his mouth, removing it.
"In-investigative journalist," he sputtered his breathing uneven to keep the tears in his eyes unshed.
"Journalist. Did you actually go to school for it?" He nodded his head. "Did it help in writing about me?" He looked at him with a mixture of fear and question. "Ah, that's okay. I'm sure it did, Reed. Do you mind if I call you Reed?" Reed shook his head. "Good, listen. I'm going to go and make us something. Now I want you," he instructed, cutting the tape on his arms, "to change into these clothes that I got from your apartment. Leave your clothes on the bed." He cut the tape on his legs and got up to stand, but turned back to stroke his hair one more time.
Reed moved his right arm and got it out of the tape cocoon he had made. He balled it up on the floor and took the tape around his legs and almost threw it by the other tape. Mac's going to need this. He's going to clean everything up, so I need to leave something behind for Mac. He crawled under the bed and slid the tape between two bars running under the bed.
He then got up and changed into the clothes that he had brought. He set the others down on the edge of the bed and then sat down in the exact place he had been sitting before. He brought up his knees to his chest and buried his face to keep out the image around him and calm himself down.
--
"These are Reed's clothes," Mac stated as he looked over the bags that had been brought in. All the pieces had been separated. Danny was off in the room that had the clothes. Lindsay found a room that contained a bed. Hawkes was going over the video and the tape recorder.
Stella was going over tire tracks that she found about seven feet away from the table. She was taking photos and referring back to her notebook. "Hey Mac, I think these tire tracks belong to the same vehicle that dumped our victim outside the precinct."
"All right, so we know it's him."
"We have the video and the audio file synced together. Do you want to see it?" Mac came over to the laptop that Hawkes had brought in. He nodded and Hawkes played the file.
The video showed Reed looking into the camera. His hands were bound and the digital recorder was between his hands. "All right," a voice commanded off-screen, "now you're directing this to Detective Taylor and your contact in the NYPD. Got it?"
"Yes."
--
"I want you to tell Detective Taylor the events that led up to this moment." The man was standing behind the camera, making sure it was positioned right so it wouldn't give any clues to the new building.
Reed took a shaky breath. "I had been arguing with my contact over a story I posted that had false information in it. After the argument, I received a text telling me if I wanted to find out more about the Cabbie Killer, to meet this person at the corner of Hudson and Franklin at ten pm that night. I went to the area and waited for a half hour before calling it a bust and got into a cab. After a minute of trying to talk to the driver, I felt myself getting dizzy and I passed out."
"Reed, what the hell were you thinking?" Mac whispered. Stella put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I woke up on the floor of the room you are currently standing in. I was bound and gagged. The pictures were of the time just after I woke up. He took me to a room that you probably have one of your CSIs going over now."
"Mac, this is starting to sound a little rehearsed," Stella observed.
Reed looked behind the camera before going off-track. "Mac, I'm sorry; I'm probably not going to live through this. Mom's pictures are underneath the bed."
"Mac, what?" Hawkes looked back at his boss, but he kept watching the tape. He focused in on Reed's hands and the tapping to the tape.
Mac brought up his radio. "Lindsay, are you still in that bedroom?"
"I'm just about to leave."
"I need you to check under the bed for something."
"Mac," Stella started.
"Reed was giving us a message. He hid tape under the bed. This guy's probably not using gloves when he's taping him."
"So, who's Mac?" he asked.
"My contact." Reed wasn't focused on the camera anymore; he was watching the killer come out to the side. Still out of range of the camera angle.
"Within the NYPD?" Reed nodded. "How do you two know each other?"
"He was married to my mother."
"So you're his step-son. Or is it son?"
"Step-son."
"What's his name?" Reed hesitated a moment. The man slapped him across the face. "What's his name?" he howled.
"Garrett, Mac Garrett!" Reed was shrinking away from him, silent tears coming down. The killer turned off the video, but the audio was still going.
"You're lying." He was standing over Reed, who hadn't switched off the recorder.
"No, I'm not." Reed held his arms in front of him to protect himself. The killer grabbed the recorder and spoke into it.
"Well, Mac, whoever you are. I really hope you're willing to help your step-son out of this. I want to hear who you really are," he checked his watch, "From three pm to four pm, you have the chance to call and give your identity. If you don't, the next body on your doorstep is Reed's." He switched off the recorder and stroked Reed's hair.
--
Mac heard the ending of the recording and immediately checked his watch. "Eight hours."
"Hawkes, let's get started on anything that can tie down that next location," Stella ordered. She was going back to the tire tracks to see if any trace was left behind. Hawkes went over the table and where the cab was stopped.
Mac took out the radio again. "Danny, you find anything useful?"
"A couple of prints around the room. I'm lifting and running as fast as I can."
"I'll run them for you so you can finish the room." Mac ended that conversation and got back with Lindsay. "Was it there?"
"Hidden between the bars. He was clever. It's in a bag and ready to get back to the lab."
"I'll pick that up and rush it over there myself."
--
It was already noon when Mac got back to the lab. The prints from Danny and the tape were already running through the system. Adam was taking the time to go over the video with a fine tooth virtual comb to pick up on anything that would help them out.
His cell phone started ringing as soon as he hit the office didn't surprise him. He suspected it was Jordan asking about the latest victim. He was wrong, though, when the phone didn't know the number. "Taylor," he answered.
"Mr. Taylor, this is Shelby Yearly. You're listed as the next of kin for Reed Garrett. I was wondering if you knew where he was," the voice on the other end said.
"No, I don't. I would like to know why you would…" Mac started.
"Kid's probably drunk as hell after that last story."
"That kid shouldn't be drunk as hell; he's not legal age yet."
"What the hell? That kid told me he was twenty-three."
"He's only twenty."
"I never would have hired that kid if I had known. Tell the kid the next time you see him, he's fired."
"You better hope I see him again."
--
He looked back at the clock on the table. It read three fifty-five. "Well, I got my next victim." He walked down to the room where he had Reed. He was on his side and had his back to the door. His upper body was mostly wrapped in tape and his ankles were taped as well. He walked over and took the area just under his armpits to drag him to the cab in the other room. Reed didn't fight him. He's resigned. He got him to the back door when the phone started to ring. "Right at death's doorstep." He dropped him and walked over and picked up Reed's phone. "Well, hello Mac, what is your last name?"
"Taylor."
"Detective Mac Taylor, the leader of the crime lab. Now isn't that a surprise?" He looked back at Reed. He had moved himself so he was in a sitting position. "Now, how long does it take to trace a phone call? Three minutes, five minutes?" He walked over to Reed.
"Why would you want to know that?" Mac asked him. Adam was running a trace on the call and was trying to get an exact location.
"I need to know when to hang up." He pulled apart for a moment to hiss in Reed's ear. "Do not mention where we are." He held the phone to Reed's ear.
"Hello."
"Mac."
"Reed, are you all right?"
"I'm fine. He hasn't done anything to me yet."
"Can you give me anything that might lead us to you?"
Reed remembered the sounds of construction outside the building. "I really hate construction season. It gets too loud with the jackhammers."
The killer realized what he was saying and slapped him across the face. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to stop this call. He just broke the rule I gave him." The killer hung up.
"Anything?" Mac asked Adam.
"I've got it down to a six block radius."
"Save it and bring up all construction going on in the city, public and private."
--
The killer kicked him a couple of times in the shoulder. Reed was trying to block out the pain with little success. He got annoyed and grabbed the duct tape off the table. He wrapped it a couple of times around his mouth. "You've got a big mouth, you know that." He started dragging Reed to the back of the car and opened the trunk. He forced Reed into it and closed the door. "Time for another victim. My first second by second reported one." He sighed happily.
Wow. I'm getting darker. Good thing this is rated T.
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