Chapter Twenty-Four

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot.

First off, thank you for all the reviews! I found it funny that I got so many 'OMG's' in response! Yes, Lindsay's having the worst week, but this story is winding down with only a few more chapters left; there are only a few things to wrap up. So again, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed and stay tuned for the sequel!

It was a tense atmosphere when Mac and Stella stepped off the elevator of James Hidal's apartment level and saw a dozen cops standing in the hallway, reassuring other occupants, guarding the apartment door of Hidal, making radio calls, and otherwise contributing to the uneasy mood. Making their way to the door, the two got their guns ready, but didn't draw them. The officers moved aside and Mac and Stella made their way inside which, if it was even possible, had more police jammed inside.

Catching Flack's eye as they drew closer to the commotion, seemingly centered in the bedroom, Mac got his first glimpse of the man who had possibly shot him. Ian Boyd was looking like a changed man from what Mac had remembered ten years ago. At the moment, he was holding a terrified James Hidal in a loose choke hold with a gun to his head. Hidal's girlfriend had been taken out, distraught, and checked over by EMS units still outside. Ian Boyd looked oddly calm for a condemned man with no less than four guns pointed in his direction. He had refused to talk to Flack after making his demand and everyone was waiting for Mac to enter the room, as he did now. The response was immediate. Boyd's eyes fixed on him and a sardonic smile flashed briefly on his face. "Detective Taylor, it's been awhile." Boyd ignored everyone else in the room, concentrating all his attention on Mac. "Do you remember me?"

Revealing his hands to show he was carrying nothing, Mac chanced a step closer. Boyd didn't seem to notice or care; focusing all his attention on a conversation he was intent on having. "Ian Boyd, right? I was the CSI on your case ten years ago."

Boyd nodded bitterly. "Yeah, you were. Some help you were," he scoffed. He jammed the gun harder against Hidal's temple, causing a wince. "That's when this deceiver deceived you all. He framed me, got you all thinking I raped that girl, that liar." Boyd's eyes flashed. "And you believed him. You all did. But they were lying, all of them."

Mac held up his hands, recognizing Boyd's jittery posture. "I remember you saying that. You said something about a competition for a contract." Mac kept his voice calm. "Why don't you tell me more about that?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Boyd said, "It was a contract that was guaranteed to change the life of whomever won it. Money. Lots of it. There were hundreds of proposals, applicants, but the bosses, they liked mine; they even said so. James here was another that they liked." Boyd shook the man roughly, prompting those armed in the room to raise their guns. "The associates said that they were going to pick a proposal after the weekend. I was so psyched. My head was filled with all these plans for my daughter and I." He smiled sadly. "I was going to enroll her in special art classes. Ever since she could, Cassie loved drawing. Her room was filled with crayon and chalk drawings." Boyd's face shifted in a split-second from dreamy to anger as he shook Hidal again. "And he had to take it all from me. He framed me! Just to get me out of a competition that he might have won anyway! He and that bitch wife of his and their little friend." He ground the gun in deeper against Hidal's temple. "Tell them! Tell the good CSI man here, New York's finest, what you did to me!"

"I-I don't - "

"Don't lie to me!" Boyd shouted furiously. "Don't lie! You took away me life! Took away my daughter! Don't fucking lie to me!"

"Ian," Mac tried to soothe the suddenly enraged man. "Ian, calm down, alright? You said they framed you. How did they do that?"

Boyd breathed heavily for a moment and then jerked his chin in the direction of the bed. There was a small gym bag sitting on the floor at the foot of it. "Look in there. I got confessions from them both. The accomplice and the liar. Right before I killed them." He snorted. "They didn't even recognize me. Me, the man they ruined the life of while they went on with their own lives. Go on, look." Boyd continued as Mac cautiously placed the bag on the bed and unzipped it, taking out small cassettes and a tape recorder. "I have to admit that I couldn't really remember much, but I do know that I did not rape that liar. She started talking to me in a bar, I had a few drinks, and we got into a cab. I meant to drop her off at her home and then go home to Cassie; she was with a babysitter and it was my job to tuck her in every night. It started getting hazy there and I don't remember! But, but I got the truth out of that liar. It wasn't hard to track her down. A phone book and pretending to be a long lost high school friend was all it took. She slipped something into my drink at the bar. Took me back to her place instead and staged it to look like I was raping her.

"And then it was planned that the deceiver and accomplice would walk in and collaborate her story. All because they were greedy for money. I know." Boyd nodded his head unstably, a crazy glint in his eye. "The accomplice confessed it to me before I killed her. I taped their confessions. She wasn't hard to find. A scorned woman with an on-going divorce settlement battle. All she needed was a little male attention and consolation." He laughed hysterically. "I gave her that! It probably wasn't the attention she wanted! And now, now all I need is the last confession to make it complete."

Mac frowned. "And what about me Ian? That was you who shot me, wasn't it? Do you want a confession from me too?"

Boyd gave him a confused frown. "From you? No, no, noooo. I was angry at you too. You, who's supposed to look for the truth, didn't help me, even when I told you the truth. You had to suffer too. But not so much as the others. That, that was just a warning; a way of me telling you that I blamed you too, just a bit. To show you that 'New York's finest' can be wrong too."

"And the phone calls? What was the significance of calling me at 3:33? And how did you find me in England?"

The confused frown deepened. "What are you talking about? I never called you. I don't know anything about England." Mac, Stella, and Flack, being the only ones in the know-how, exchanged puzzled glances when Boyd blew up again, "Stop it! Stop it right now!" He suddenly tightened his hold on Hidal, choking the man and pointed the gun directly at Mac. "Y-you're trying to confuse me. I know you are! Stop it!" He brought the gun back to Hidal's head. "I won't hesitate to kill him, you know. I've already done it twice."

Mac maintained steady eye-contact, his hands still raised. "I'm not trying to confuse you Ian, I promise. I made a false assumption, that's all. " He paused. "What is that you want Ian? You want Mr. Hidal here to pay for what he's done to you? I can promise you that he will."

"No. I want his confession, like that the other two." He started to shout in Hidal's ear as the man began turning purple. "I want him to admit what he did to me!" Boyd loosened his grip, letting the man's greedily gulp some air.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Hidal wheezed, ignoring the warning in Mac's eyes. "Y-you're craz-zy. I've n-never met you before." Everyone in the room knew the moment Boyd snapped and tried to do something when the man screamed psychotically, "Don't. You. Lie. To. Me!" He pulled the trigger. Blood splattered all over and James Hidal went down, dead.

Flack responded by shooting Boyd in the leg in an effort to subdue him. Boyd dropped the gun and collapsed on the floor letting the police swarm all over him. He looked up at Mac, all semblance of anger gone. It was an eerie sight to behold. "I just wanted him to admit that he'd done wrong against me," he pleaded softly. "I just wanted him to say it...He took my life away. I just wanted him to know."

Mac felt drained, looking at the man before Stella pulled him out of the way for the paramedics. He avoided Boyd's eyes and let Stella guide him out of the apartment. They leaned against the car and let the events of the day wash over them.

"Hey Mac? There's something that still worries me."

He looked at her.

"Ian Boyd didn't have a clue about the 3:33 calls." Stella's brow furrowed as she crossed her arms. "That means that he's still out there."

"What makes it even more concerning, Stella, is that he was watching us that day," he stated.

The two lapsed into silence. And it was only Monday.

A/N: That wraps that up. I know most of you were expecting more from Lindsay's fall-out, but that will be the next chapter. I just had to tie this up first. Thanks for reading!