Chapter Fifteen

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Chief Sinclair. We finally meet." Stella steeled her face into a carefully blank one as the man had ambushed her as she had stepped off the elevator that Sunday and was now gently leading her to Mac's office where a slender woman with flawless chocolate skin, an impeccable taste in clothes, and a very unwelcoming face awaited. Who was she?

"Yes, Detective Bonasera, we do," Chief Sinclair answered, shutting the office door.

"Forgive me for not calling you yesterday. It was a rather hectic day." She would have told him exactly why it was hectic, but she suspected he wouldn't care and rather see it as an excuse. "I would've called you after work, but I was at the hospital."

"And how is Detective Taylor?"
"Sitting up, voice strong and steady, and I suspect walking around his room when the doctors aren't there." Stella smiled. "You know Mac, nothing can keep him down."

Sinclair gave her a smile. "Yes, of that I'm aware. Anyway, may I introduce Detective Cherika Branco?"

Stella kept her friendly smile, even though something in her inherently disliked the woman. The woman shook her hand, but offered no smile in return.

Chief Sinclair took that moment to drop a bombshell. "While I'm sure that this lab can handle itself, I've decided to have Detective Branco here take over temporarily in Detective Taylor's stead, just until he fully recovers of course."

It was only by her quick reflexes that Stella didn't drop her smile or composure. "Ah, well, with all due respect Chief Sinclair, it's as you said, the lab can definitely handle itself until Mac's return, most likely this week. It seems rather pointless, no offense intended of course to Detective Branco, to have someone take over when they won't even hold the position for a week."

"Be that as it may, I would feel better and safer if someone with authority were here to oversee daily operations. You yourself had a rather hectic day yesterday and cannot always be here to keep track of things, Detective Bonasera. Detective Branco is here to be of help to anyone who needs it. Alright?" He smiled pleasantly at her and Stella wanted to smack him.

Her face getting tired of maintaining a friendly smile, Stella merely agreed and Chief Sinclair left to let the two women 'get to know each other'.

"Well, since the introductions are over, I guess I'll get back to my job," Stella said, making a move to leave and warn Danny and Hawkes in the process.

"Actually Detective," Branco said loudly. "I would like you to stay for a moment. There are some things that I would like to ask you." Stella turned around and gritted her teeth as she saw Branco seating herself in Mac's chair as if she owned it. She looked at the desk and then picked up a pile of folders that had Stella wanting to clench her fists. "Do you know what these are?"

Subtly taking a deep breath, Stella answered calmly, "Those are all unsolved cases that Detective Taylor keeps on his desk to remind him that there are still victims waiting to be put to rest and families still waiting for justice to be done."

Branco raised a delicate eyebrow. "Huh." She picked up the pile and carelessly put them on a side desk. "Well, there. This way, he can still see them and be reminded, but the desk will be cleaner this way too." Leaning back into the chair, the darker-haired woman flipped through some papers, as if she had forgotten Stella was still room until she spoke suddenly, "I have not yet seen one of your co-worker, a Detective Monroe. She was supposed to be here an hour ago, more to the point, you're not supposed to be here today." Dark brown eyes flicked to green ones. "Do you know where she is?"

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Stella said, "There was a mix-up with the scheduling. Lindsay and I switched off-days for today. She was informed of a family tragedy last week and she's still trying to deal with it. Suffice it to say that her mind would not be on her job, but with her family instead."

"Huh." Stella was beginning to hate that word. "And this tragedy would be?"

"Personal." The answer was short with an unspoken, 'and none of your business' added to it.

Branco looked her over and then leaned forward on the desk. "Detective Bonasera, I can already tell that you don't like me and that's fine. I'm here to do a job and so are you. The right way. I want to speak to you about your conduct these last few days as well as the rest of Mac Taylor's close-knit team. It was completely irresponsible of you to keep yourself and Detectives Messer, Hawkes, and Flack on a case that was so obviously personal. Frankly, I'll be surprised if any of the evidence you've managed to collect remains untainted. I'm not finished, Detective Bonasera," Branco raised a hand to forestall anything Stella had to say. "Furthermore, I fear this whole lab lacks a level of professionalism that if continued, may lead to the loss of some jobs because of it.

"Anyway," Branco took a deep breath, "I also wanted to speak to you about Detective Taylor's case, that I understand has been put on the back burner, so to speak, due to lack of leads. I must inform you that should the case experience a rejuvenation of any sort, you nor any of the other detectives I aforementioned will be working it. Instead, you and the others will keep a fair distance and let other, less bias, professionals take over, is that understood?" Clearly, Branco was too wrapped in her lecture to recognize the danger signs in Stella Bonasera's stiff stance, twitching hands, convulsive tick of her jaw, and more importantly, the flames rising in her eyes. All this went unnoticed in the midst of the new detective's tirade.

While talking to Adam later in the afternoon, Danny caught an unpleasant sight and quickly shielded his face with a folder. Bidding the bewildered lab tech a quick goodbye, Danny walked as fast as he could in the opposite direction of the new, albeit temporary, new head. He and Hawkes had been subjected to the mightiest tirade of anger from Stella after she had caught them off-guard and hauled them into the locker room, scaring everyone else out with a look of fire in her eyes. Danny could've sworn he saw flames rising. He knew he had nail marks on his wrist from Stella's fierce grip. She was that angry. Flack, the lucky one, had been spared from both Stella's wrath and Branco's high-handedness. For the rest of the day, Danny avoided Branco like the plague and had half a mind to avoid Stella too for sheer fear.

The day had passed slowly and the lab didn't feel the same. If the tough-guy New Yorker could admit to being in a philosophical mood, Danny would have said that the lab held a dying atmosphere, no pun intended. Mac was still gone, Lindsay had gone AWOL...things were breaking down. Times used to be when he'd show up at the lab for a day of joking and talking with friends while running down bad guys and putting them in jail, have yourself a nice pat on the back, go home and have some fun. Now it was: work. Just work. Only to go home and sleep on his couch. For a regular Casanova, Danny had no problem sleeping in his bed, knowing that over a dozen women had shared it at one time or place, but now, he couldn't lie there at night for more than an hour. Flashes of memories would flicker beneath his closed eyelids and the familiar surge of guilt rose within. It was driving him crazy and he was starting to show it. Danny was contemplating chucking his bed and buying a new one, that, in his perfect fantasy world, would carry only the scent of Lindsay on its pillows. Strange how it never bothered him before, but he had never cheated on his girlfriend before either. And it was Lindsay too. Lindsay who, by all accounts, was in Montana frantically searching for her missing parents at that very moment. His heart panged sharply in his chest as a picture of her face, full of soft curves, button nose, brown eyes, was fixed in an expression full of fear and despair. Danny learned that Hawkes and Stella had called Lindsay to no avail, but every time his hand strayed to the phone, a giant lump rose in Danny's throat that made it hard to swallow, let alone open his mouth to deliver anything other than a trembled breath. If, by chance, he did speak, Danny knew that the words that spewed out would not be the ones that Lindsay needed to hear. Not now. And when he cleared the air, Danny wanted it to be face-to-face. It was not going to be easy. He still had mistakes to fix.

Danny stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widened. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten! Here it was Sunday already and the one of the main issues that had caused his fall-out with Lindsay hadn't been put to rest yet.

Striding to his and Lindsay's office, Danny pulled out his cell phone, dialing a number while avoiding Lindsay's desk. The chair being tucked in and the lack of paperwork scattered across the top only emphasized more the loneliness he was feeling. Would it still be Lindsay occupying that desk when she came back or would it be for someone else, someone new?

"Hello?"

"Rikka, it's Danny." He paused. "You didn't call me yet."

"Oh...right. I haven't."

Danny clenched his jaw, quelling his frustration. She had her own problems, give her a break, he chanted. "So...are you?" He held his breath. A minute passed and he blew it out to ask, "Rikka?"

"I...I haven't done it yet." Her voice was quiet and was it his imagination, slightly dismissive?

"Whaddaya' mean you haven't done it yet? Don't you want to know? Don't I deserve to know?" His Italian temper exploded, almost glad to have a chance to yell at someone. He would have continued if he had not heard her break down crying. Tears. Damn it. "Rikka, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you, I just..." he exhaled noisily, running a hand through his hair.

"It's just that I'm scared, Danny," Rikka hiccuped over the phone. "I mean, this is a baby and my baby...gone...and I wouldn't know what..." She broke down into incoherency, leaving Danny feeling awkward. Luckily, Rikka managed to bring herself under control to blubber out, "I'll-I'll buy a test today and do it later tonight. Could...could you come to my apartment? You know, to lend me some support? I -I can't do this alone Danny, please."

Danny, for his part, rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. He had a bad feeling about this. This was not a good thing to agree to. But, if he didn't go, it'd make him look like such an asshole. Danny grimaced. Ya got yourself into this mess, Messer, ya gotta get yourself out of it. It was with a look of utmost reluctance that he agreed to meet her later that night at her apartment.

AN: 'grins evilly' On a side-note, I meant to update earlier; unfortunately, imagine my confusion coming home last Wednesay to find out my internet was disconnected. To my exasperation, I find out that the internet company made a mistake and jotted down my apartment number instead of my neighbor, who is moving out. The kicker: they informed me that I would not get reconnected until today! Thus, I could not post anything until now. Grrr.