Chapter 1

Jo sighed, rather loudly. She shifted her weight onto her other leg and slid her hand to her lower back, pressing it quite firmly, cradling it. As a woman, she was of course not unfamiliar with back pain, especially about the small of her back, but as she waited in line for her much-needed cup of strong coffee at the small coffee shop around the corner from the crime lab that Tuesday morning in June, she frowned to herself as she considered all possible options why it might be giving her grief now. She hadn't done anything that had caused a particular strain on her lower back, nor was she nearing that time of the month. It must have been just an unfortunate turn that she had made, not even aware of it at the time maybe. At the moment she didn't see any other possible reason for it to hurt like it did.

She ordered her cup of steaming black coffee, accompanied by a smile that was far from the usual that could light up the entire room and tease everyone into a great mood like hers –– because to the eye of the unknown beholder, Josephine Danville always seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood. As she waited with patience, she considered the last few days, if not weeks, at the crime lab. She knew that lately she had felt more drained, both physically and emotionally, and maybe this could all just be attributed to the stress of her job, especially the Curtis case and her emotional involvement in it. As much as she hated to admit it, she was also getting older. She realized this most particularly when she looked at her children, all grown-up and making their own decisions. Ellie hadn't even asked for allowance before going on a sleepover the weekend prior. Maybe the stress at her job and her age combined with the fact that she was keeping up with the sex-life of someone half her age could have caused those feelings and her back pain as well. Also, it had been just an hour or two before that Mac and she had been intimate against the doorframe between her hallway and kitchen. She smiled softly at the memory, realizing that maybe that was the most direct reason for her current back pain…

As she sipped from her coffee, a frown creased between Jo's eyebrows. She would have thought that her daily cup would help her, but it just didn't seem to have any taste this morning. If anything, she thought it tasted a bit weird and smelled a bit different than it usually did. Maybe these were new coffee beans from another supplier or such? She considered the possibility. After all, it had happened that her old coffee shop in Virginia had had to take on a new supplier after their previous one had gone bankrupt, and their coffee had never tasted the same anymore. It had never tasted as unlike coffee as this, though. She tried not to pay too much attention to the weird taste in her mouth as she downed the rest of her tall cup on the way to the crime lab. Either way, she needed the caffeine.

By the time she got there, cup finished, she had this weird taste still lingering in her mouth and just knew it would remain for most of the day. The walk in the cool breeze and the caffeine-filled drink had not helped her feel any less drained either, and now, on top of everything, she seemed to feel nauseous, too. Throwing the unnecessary paper cup in the waste bin in the main hallway and pressing her other hand against her stomach, Jo Danville made her way to the ladies' room, the sound of her high heeled boots resounding against the shiny tiles as she hurried there. It wouldn't be the first time she had gotten sick the last few days, and maybe it wasn't so surprising with John Curtis right there in New York, on the loose and leaving more victims in his wake wherever he seemed to go… Yet they weren't any closer to catching the son-of-a-bitch and letting him suffer for his mistakes in jail.

The case had been eating away at her beneath the wide smile for years, but it had definitely intensified ever since he had shown up here in New York City. She couldn't possibly put into words the feeling of relief that would wash through her when she finally saw him locked behind bars with the knowledge he would stay there for the foreseeable future. She shook her head. Dear Lord. Usually, she was more stress resistant than she had been this past week.

She spit the water with which she had rinsed her mouth into the sink, immediately splashing cold water from the tap onto her face in hopes of feeling a bit fresher and better than she had to admit she really did. Mac had noticed that she was looking much more peaked than she usually did, too, and had wondered if maybe she was not coming down with a stomach bug or such. She had dismissed it, but maybe he was right in his concern after all. Then again, wouldn't she have been ill more often and throughout the day instead of mostly in the mornings?

Slowly raising her head and looking at her reflection in the rectangular mirror, a thought struck her. What if it wasn't stress or a stomach bug at all? Closing her eyes and lowering her head again, she leaned onto the sink and tried to think of any time where she and Mac had been together without using protection. She could only think of one time, and that had been a bit after her last period, now about five weeks ago. She raised her hand to her mouth as her breath caught in her throat, the realization hitting her that it could very well be that right at that moment, she was in fact carrying Mac Taylor's child. She took a deep, calming breath, but it didn't have the desired effect. Suddenly, her heart was racing and the pounding was only increasing in strength and pace. She tried to get her mind together and came to the conclusion that first off, before she began panicking and lost her mind entirely, she needed to make sure whether her current thought was even valid. Mac and she had only arrived a little before eight given their activities earlier that morning, right after –– or technically, during and after –– their shower, and then she had walked to the coffee shop and back as well. It was maybe a bit soon for her to take leave of the lab yet again, but there was no chance that she would manage to think clearly with the possibility of her being pregnant on her mind. She didn't think she had ever been that glad to be the Assistant Supervisor of the lab and have such freedom to manage her time as she saw fit. She had rarely made use of it before, but now, she would have to draw on that and take the twenty minutes to the drugstore and back for a pregnancy test.

If she had thought that her mind would be cleared after taking the pregnancy test, she was incredibly mistaken. As she sat on the toilet, lid down, leaning back against the wall of the stall, she tried to reason with the positive result shown on the display. She wasn't sure how to feel about that little smiley face. Too many thoughts were racing through her head; in fact they had been even before this.

She knew pregnancy tests missed on occasion, but very rarely did they give a false positive. She sighed. The timing was all but great in many ways. Her son was old enough to have children of his own, dear heavens. What would Mac think, no less? Did he even want children? Did she want more to begin with? The first chance she would get to tell him would be that night, she knew. It would be really hard to do, but until then she would just have to try and be the professional detective she knew she could and had to be.