Author's Note I: Thank you to MariaLisa and BrilliantMadness for beta'ing, supporting and encouraging.
DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters from CSI:NY however any other characters are mine!
A Shadow Falls
A shadow follows, inky in its cast but elusive in its dispellment
Separating in its essence but binding in its origin.
What makes a shadow vanish but direct light from above?
Or no light at all.
-Sally Jetson
Gentle, lulling, laps of water patterned a peaceful beat against the graveled shore while the stifled city sounds and enveloping darkness alluded to a tranquil night. But the stench of garbage and rotten fish choking the air, and a reflected glow of the city lights in the sky, reminded him that he was only a short drive away from one of the largest populations of humanity on the face of the earth and yet, not one could save him.
The crack of a gun ricocheted through the night followed by a dull thud.
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The sound splintered through her dreams.
She bolted upright in her bed shivering from the clamminess caused by the perspiration soaked bedclothes. She instinctively turned to the empty spot beside her, swallowing a lump in her throat at the realization that he wasn't there to hold her in his strong arms, rub his stubbly chin against her forehead in comfort, and whisper, "S'ok Montana."
She had slept fitfully since that night at the ferry, when they had parted with questions still hanging in the air. She hugged her knees to her chest in small comfort as the memories came rushing back.
That afternoon, everything between them had been perfect. After their conversation, she had tried to decide which had rattled her the most; the fact that his dad may have Mafia connections or that he seemed ready to end the relationship just like that. He had been rock solid for her, but now she saw a whole new side of him; his doubts and his insecurities. She'd told him she'd made her choice to be with him, but did she have enough courage and confidence to steady their relationship in the face of these new obstacles?
The doubts had increased as the days had passed and she had not seen him. After the double shift he'd pulled after leaving the ferry, he had text'ed her:
2 tired 2 talk, home 2 sleep
Since then their shifts had not coincided.
She gazed wistfully at the baseball cap on the nightstand. Her heart twinged when she picked it up and fingered the trademark logo. He had tossed it aside when he had forgone watching the Knicks' game in favor of taking her to Staten Island for her 'New York Experience'. She thought about how he always wore it regardless of the sporting event.
She had teased him, "How can a baseball cap be lucky when you're watching basketball?"
"Never doubt the magic of the cap, Baby. If you do it'll come back to bite you in the ass!" He had replied with a cheeky grin.
She smiled weakly at the memory but it couldn't overcome the rampant discord playing in her mind. Is that what was happening here? Were their doubts coming back to bite them in the ass?
The ringing of her cell punctuated her melancholic musings. As she glanced at the display, she actually welcomed the distraction of processing a crime scene in the pre-dawn hours.
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When Lindsay approached the scene she saw Danny talking to Flack. She knew their paths would eventually cross but it still made her heart jump to see him close up after so many days of absence from her life.
"Hey guys, what do we have here?" she asked in the most professional tone she could muster.
Both Flack and Danny nodded good morning to Lindsay.
She noticed that Danny looked as bad as she felt. At least she knew he wasn't sleeping any better than she was. Whether it made her feel better or worse she didn't have the time to consider that as Flack began to explain.
"I was just telling Danny it looks like a professional execution; a bullet to the back of the head. The positioning of the victim indicates he was on his knees, most likely begging for his life."
"Do you think it's a hit?" Danny inquired.
Lindsay's stomach clutched
"Could be, but there was no effort to conceal the body so if it is a hit I'd say they're trying to send a message to someone. The officers are still looking for a murder weapon; I'll help in the search while you guys check out the vic."
"Alright, we'll take a look."
When Flack walked off, Danny turned to Lindsay.
"Ya okay?" he murmured as they started toward the crime scene.
"Yeah, you?"
"Tired."
"Me too."
As they ducked under the tape Danny stopped suddenly and Lindsay brushed up against him, causing a warm flush to course throughout her body.
"Holy fucking Mother of God," he rasped out as he crossed himself.
She instinctively put her hand on his arm.
"Danny, what is it?"
He knelt beside the body peering intently at the face. She looked over his shoulder but did not recognize the victim.
"Danny is this someone you know?"
"Yeah I know him, poor bastard" he ground out, "This is Geno Licciardello. He is head bookkeeper for my dad's dry cleaners."
Danny stood abruptly, almost knocking Lindsay over. He reached out a hand to steady her. Disbelief and worry registered on his face as he stared at her as if he was realizing for the first time that it was Lindsay standing there.
"Danny?"
He pinched his nose between his fingers and placed his other hand on his hip as he muttered under his breath, "I don't fucking need this right now!"
He pushed his glasses back up on his nose and looked at Lindsay, "I'm going to have to remove myself from the case and… I think you ought to as well."
His last words hit her like a ton of bricks.
Her brow furrowed uncomprehendingly, "Me? But…. but I don't know him."
"I know that, but whether you realize it or not, you are connected."
"Danny, I've never even laid eyes on the guy before," she protested, widening her eyes.
Her mind refused to accept what he was saying.
"Lindsay, you don't understand, it is too risky. The fact that these guys dumped the body here and not on Staten Island is no coincidence. Who knows exactly what they're after or what kind of message they are trying to send but you don't mess around with them. Trust me on this."
He waited for his words to take effect, but her eyes narrowed as she thrust out her chin in defiance.
When she finally spoke it was soft but steely, "I understand that you are connected; you know the victim. But I do not know the victim and I have a job to do."
She turned, knelt beside the victim and opened her kit.
"Stubborn," he muttered under his breath.
He turned and ducked under the tape, heading toward Mac who was just arriving on the scene.
"Danny what do you have?"
"Mac, we got a middle-aged male with a single gunshot to the back of the head."
"Is Lindsay processing?"
"Yeah, Mac… about that."
Mac raised his eyebrows slightly.
"I know the vic. His name is Geno Licciardello from Staten Island and he works as head bookkeeper for my dad. I'm taking myself off the case."
"Thanks Danny, good move. You can go back to the lab and help Stella and Hawkes on their case and I'll help Lindsay with the processing here."
"Mac"
"Is there something else?"
"Um…" Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't think Lindsay should work the case either."
"Does she know the vic as well?"
"No," he sighed.
"Danny, you're going to have to give me more than that to go on."
"Okay, okay, it looks like a hit. The body is dumped here, not on Staten Island. There was no attempt to hide the body. We were just on Staten Island a few days ago visiting my parents. It just doesn't sit right with me."
Mac's lips set into a grim line. "You know I can't go on gut feelings."
Mac glanced over at Lindsay and then back at Danny. His face softened as he clasped a hand on Danny's shoulder.
"Danny, I understand your concern, but since Lindsay doesn't know the vic and we have no proof at this time of anything else going on, I'm going to keep her on the case. Lindsay is a professional, she understands the risks."
"Mac!" Danny ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
Mac answered firmly, "Danny, go back to the lab."
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Once back in the lab Lindsay began methodically processing the evidence. The officers at the scene had found a gun tossed several hundred yards away and she lifted some clear prints and made a note of the serial number. Ballistics was working on a match between the bullet and the gun, while Sid was confirming the cause of death. Once the fingerprints were running against the database she began examining the clothes and the other items found on the vic. The wallet contained nothing out of the ordinary; the id, money and credit cards were all still present. The only trace found on the clothes was consistent with what was at the crime scene. She sighed as she looked at the remaining item, a medallion showing a family coat of arms and the word Licciardello inscribed around the perimeter. It was exquisite craftsmanship, and she turned it over, noting the initials CM inscribed on back.
A lab tech laid a folder on the table beside her. She examined the contents and confirmed that the bullet in the vic matched that of the gun found at the scene. A beep from the computer signaled matches on the fingerprints, and she glanced at the monitor.
God, no!
She quickly printed the results and with shaky hands placed them in the folder.
The conflict originated in her brain and crept down into her heart, driving her breath in and out in short gasps. Another beep revealed a match to the serial number of the gun. Her legs quivered in trepidation as she focused on the monitor. The quietness of the room began to close in on her and she clutched the edge of the table, forcing herself to breath normally. After a minute or two she was able to press the print button, making sure to close the result window. She added the final result to the folder as she mentally began preparing for the conversation she knew she must have.
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"What do you have?"
"Results on the murder of Licciardello"
She passed the folder across the desk.
He opened the folder and his face hardened as he flipped through the pages.
"Mac, I have to remove myself from the case."
He nodded in agreement and then sighed, "Thanks Lindsay, I'll handle this myself."
Then he added as an afterthought, "Are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah, I have a mountain of paperwork to bury myself in."
"Okay"
She rose and left his office before he could see the tears in her eyes. She found a quiet hallway and leaned against the wall, stemming the tears with a brush of her hand across her eyes. She unclipped her cell and punched in a text message.
Need 2 talk now roof
She allowed herself a few minutes in the hallway before heading to the roof.
Once she reached the door she paused to mentally brace herself, then pushed it open and stepped into the bright daylight, shielding her eyes so she could scan the rooftop. Danny was directly in front of her, hands braced against the waist-high concrete barrier surrounding the perimeter, his eyes focused on the street below. He whirled around when he heard the click of the door, folding his arms across his chest.
She ached at the sight of him.
His eyes never left her face as she walked reluctantly towards him. When she reached him she wanted to soften the blow; she laid a hand on his forearm and felt his muscle clench in response.
"Danny, I've taken myself off the case."
"What changed your mind?" he asked cautiously.
"It's like you said; I am involved."
His eyes brightened as he clutched her hand and pulled her close to his body, sliding his other arm around her waist,
"Lindsay, I'm relieved you finally see the risks involved with working a case like this."
Her body tingled at his closeness and she suddenly realized her mistake at the tactic she had chosen to break the news to him. He thought she was removing herself from the case because he was her only connection to the case.
"Danny, you don't understand," she tried to inject a note of steadiness into her voice.
"What is it that I don't understand, Lindsay?" he spoke deliberately.
"I'm involved not because I know you," she paused to take a deep breath, "I'm involved because I know the suspect."
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Author's Note II: Okay a little angst here... in case you don't know I'm also a fan of angst... but hang with me. If you don't like it you can tell me. It won't hurt my feelings! Always SJ