Thanks for your comments so far - I'm enjoying them, as I hope you are enjoying the fic! Note: This chapter features a lot of case material, but from here on, there will not be as much. As I warned, this isn't truly a case fic - the pieces will fall together rather conveniently. The DL is the focus, of course. :P Chapter 6 will feature much more DL fluff, so I will probably upload it rather soon.
Chapter 5
Boredom had settled over Danny and Lindsay, intense as the afternoon light outside the train. Seated several feet apart in the corner of the boxcar, they had given up any hope of productivity, conversation, or immediate escape. In fact, when the train began to gradually slow its speed, they were both staring into space, lost in thought.
Lindsay felt it first – a change in the vibration of the wheels as they clipped the track. A beat slower, a missing note in their harmony. She stiffened, now fully alert. "We're stopping," she gasped. "Danny, do you feel that?"
"We can't be in Akron already," Danny mumbled with a frown. "It's only been three hours."
They lapsed into silent wonder, holding their breath as the train slowed further and came to a full stop. They both stood shakily, legs wobbling from the cessation of movement beneath them.
"Do you know what this means?" Lindsay asked, nearly laughing out loud. "They've figured out we're on here—someone called and stopped the train! We're going to be rescued!"
"It's over!" Danny grinned at her. "Just in time, too. I don't think I could take this much longer."
Lindsay, unsure if she should take his comment as a slight, did not respond. Is it being with me he is tired of? she wondered, then brushed the thought out of her mind before she could contemplate an answer. Instead, she turned on her flashlight, and they made their way to the sliding door. She was just glad this adventure was about to be over. Finally they could go back to solving the case after such an unwelcome detour.
"We're in here!" Lindsay called through a tiny crack. She knocked loudly on the wall, as Danny grasped the broken handle and tried to slide it open.
"Come on, already!" he shouted. "Somebody get us out of here!"
They continued this tactic for several anxious minutes, pausing to listen for any sounds outside, but no one came to their aid. Light knocking and calling out was not working, so when the hope faded and desperation took hold, they resorted to yelling and banging.
"Help us!"
"Is anyone out there?"
"Please, somebody get us out!"
"Dammit," Danny whispered, winded from pummeling madly against the walls. He pressed the side of his face against the door, listening for voices or other sounds outside.
"Can you hear anything?" Lindsay asked, pressing her face next to his, so close she could almost feel his breath on her cheek.
"No, I—"
Before Danny could finish, the train lurched backwards, sending Lindsay tumbling into him. He braced himself against the wall with one hand, and caught her around the waist with the other. Any embarrassment or even pleasure over the incident was washed away by the realization that they would not be escaping this time.
"Oh, no," Lindsay moaned. "I know what this is: they're just picking up more freight. We're backing up to attach another car. Then they'll just keep going."
In a ball of fury, Danny pulled away from her and pounded his fist angrily into the wall. "Son of a bitch!" he roared, kicking a tuft of straw with his foot.
Lindsay, startled by his sudden display of anger, began to back away, moving slowly and cautiously. She had never seen him that irate, that livid, that powerful—and it frightened her.
But the very instant he saw the fear in her eyes, illuminated by the beam of the flashlight, he softened.
"God, Lindsay, I'm sorry," he said, moving towards her and taking her arm. "I shouldn't have blown up like that."
She shook her head, still uncomfortable and hesitant. "Danny, you don't have to be strong for me. I know you're scared, too. It's okay."
Danny's grip on her arm tightened, yet in a most gentle manner. "It will be okay," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Abruptly he pulled her into a hug, an action that took Lindsay's breath away. Anytime he touched her, it put her in a trance. It always seemed to short-circuit her brain, as if her body was a magnet being drawn to him, a law of physics. Now, pressed to his chest, she felt helpless to the emotions burning inside her.
"We'll be okay," he murmured, rubbing her back lightly with the palm of his hand. This embrace was providing them each with more comfort than they cared to admit.
When the train stopped once more, their eyes met, but Lindsay shook her head hopelessly. She knew what would happen, and she was right: the train lurched forward, picking up speed quickly, carrying them off once again into the unknown.
----
"Any news on our wayward investigators?"
Sid Hammerback looked up from the table where an assortment of body parts and bone splinters lay organized into rows. He looked hopeful as he waited for Hawkes' response.
"Nothing," Sheldon sighed.
"My money is still on elopement," Sid murmured.
Sheldon rolled his eyes, though a hint of a smile was evident. "Well, I'm actually here to see if Mr. Parsons can give us some clues about his killer."
Sid cocked his head and grimaced. "Mr. Parsons is akin to Humpty Dumpty – and I'm still trying to put him back together again. Judging from the bruising on the wrists and thighs, your victim was struggling to free himself. He knew the train was coming."
"Was there anything in his blood to suggest he had been drugged?"
"Well, results showed a low amount of clonazepam, even though I didn't have much blood left to test," Sid replied. "If he wasn't taking the medication regularly, then he could have been drugged, but it would have been hours before he was brought to the train station. Most of the effects—grogginess, lethargy--would have worn off by the time he died. I can't tell if there was any trace in his liver, because… well, there was no liver left to test."
"So we don't have anything definitive, either way?"
"Well, these abrasions from the chains tell us he was conscious just before he died." Sid studied Sheldon's face. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Sheldon nodded, fighting off a shudder. "What an awful way to go."
-----
"Hey, Mac!"
As Mac made his way out of the break room, he heard his name, and turned to see Flack striding quickly down the hall. "What have you got, Don?" he asked.
"We got a tip on our Little Red Riding Hood of the train station," Flack replied.
Mac raised an eyebrow. "Flack, I thought you had a full case load? How do you have time to juggle this one?"
Flack shrugged off the question. "Never mind that. Anyway, Wyndham released the composite sketch to the media, and within an hour, he got a call from the owner of Hobbs' Hardware on 24th street. A cashier in the store remembered this guy, he went in two days ago to buy bicycle chains and padlocks. Same shirt, same greasy ponytail—they have him on surveillance camera. Paid in cash."
Mac sighed. It was a start-- a step forward in locating the sick bastard responsible for Parsons' death, and perhaps the disappearance of his detectives. "Good, good," he said. "We've got to find this guy, and quick. I want to find out what he knows about Lindsay and Danny's disappearance."
"I'm going to cross-reference the photo with the list of people Parsons dealt with in the repo firm," Flack explained. "If I can narrow it down to some males of the same age, maybe we can get a name on this guy. And once we find him, maybe we can find Lindsay and Danny."
"Keep me posted," Mac said. "I'm waiting to hear if there were any clues at the station that might pinpoint the direction they went when they disappeared."
As Flack turned to leave, Mac held out his hand to stop him. "Oh… Flack? Thanks."
Flack shrugged, smiling sadly. "What else is there to do? Lindsay and Danny wouldn't want us to give up on this case. When they get back here—which they will—I want to have this wrapped up. We've got to crack it—for them."