A/N: I don't own any of the Cold Case characters and I am not making any money from writing this.
Please forgive any minor spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.
It was early in the morning. Will poured himself some coffe before taking another look at the items on the ceiling. John stood near by, about to go into his office. There were few people in there.
"That's new", Will mumbled.
John glanced at him. "What?"
"The decorations. The music."
John sighed, looking away. "I guess it was about time", he said silently.
Will looked around. "There are talks some may set up a party or something here", he said, almost teasingly. "On Christmas, I mean."
Will saw a young clerk approaching him, a file in hand. They exchanged a few words before he took the file.
John was looking at him curiously. Will opened the file and quickly flipped through the content, before chuckling briefly.
"What is it?", John asked, walking over to him.
Will grinned. "I spoke to the patrole unit. As it turns out, late at night of Decemner 24th 2005, Bruce Walters got a parking ticket a mile away from the place where the body was found."
#
Bruce tapped with his fingers against the interrogation room table, avoiding to look at the parking ticket placed in front of him. His hair was a mess and his shirt was wrinkled. Nick was sitting at that table, opposite to him. Kat, standing near by, glared at Bruce.
"This ticket doesn't look good for you, Bruce", Nick commented, as Bruce shifted in his seat.
"So what?", he asked. "That doesn't prove anything."
"It does prove you were near the crime scene", Nick pointed out.
Bruce sighed, looking around. "What do you want from me?"
"We want the truth, Bruce", Kat said, walking over to him. "What happened? Danny thought you weren't treating your employees far? Confronted you? Threatened you? Things got out of hand?"
"No!", Bruce cried.
"We are currently in the process of obtaining the search warrant", Nick informed him. "For your diner, home, car... what do you think we might find, huh?"
Bruce groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I was taking the trash out and... that's when I found him", he said silently, looking away.
Nick frowned. "Found who?"
"Santa Claus!", Bruce exclaimed. "That... Danny. He was dead." He rubbed his forehead. "So I threw the trash, I went to my car. I wrapped him, I mean, his body, in some protective plastic, put it in the trunk of my car, together with the triphold and the gun... I cleaned up thr blood with the towel, drove over to that river and threw the body in there. I threw the triphold in the near by forest. I threw the towel and the shell casings in the dumpster a few miles away."
"What about the gun, Bruce?", Kat asked.
Bruce gulped, answering a few moments later. "I hid it underneath the floor boards in my basement. I though it might... come at hand sometime. Nothing illegal, of course", he exclaimed.
"Sure", Nick said sarcastically. "What about the money? In the bag, in the triphold?"
"There was no bag! There was no money!"
A short silence ensued. Bruce was looking around, sweating heavily.
"Why did you do that?", Kat asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Bruce sighed. "I had a record, the diner didn't have some bright history either... do you have any idea how a murder near by would reflect on me? On my business?"
Nick said nothing, and neither did Kate.
#
Lilly sat at her desk, having just finished reading the autopsy report again. No new leads. She sighed and closed the file. "How long till the ballistics finish examining the gun?", she wondered out loud, more than asked.
"In about an hour or two", Scotty answered, not looking up. He was reading Danny's diary. "And then they have to run the serial number."
Lilly sighed. She was looking down at her desk for some time, tapping with her fingers against it's surface. "I can take Christina home", she said under her breath, her cheeks blushing.
Scotty looked up, his eyes wide. Lilly leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "Temporarily", she elaborated. "For Christmas. I can take her home, if she agrees. If we both agree."
Scotty remained silent for some time. He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Does she agree."
Lilly shook her head. "I don't know. She hasn't... expressed herself about it. The rehab facility has a web site, I found out about it from there."
Scotty shrugged. "Maybe she doesn't know."
Lilly bit her lower lip. "I doubt it."
She looked away, fondling her hands together. Scotty was looking at her intently. "I'm used to spending Christmases alone. Ever since the graduation, actually." She sighed. "Maybe it could turn out well. But if it doesn't... I will just cause more damage. I don't want to risk anything." She looked Scotty in the eyes. He shuddered. "But again, that could mean a lot to her." She ran her hand through her hair. "If she wants it."
"Maybe you should, really, just ask her", Scotty suggested carefully. Lilly raised her eyebrows at him. He continued. "Even of it leads to an argument, it will just be an argument over a question. And you will know what to expect."
Lilly chuckled sadly. "As bad as this sounds, I actually wonder, among other thing, will I be able to handle it." She grimaced. "But, the truth is, I always liked Christmas... only sometimes... I hate how much it makes me feel."
Scotty nodded his head. "You feel like everything is possible... and that everything will be good." He sighed. "But, sooner or later, you have to realize that life doesn't work that way."
"I don't think that Bruce did it", Scotty said. "He was awfully eager to confess to everything else."
"Yeah", Lilly agreed. "And we still don't know who "the mystery girl" is..."
Scotty shrugged. "It may really be just a coincidences. Lots of junkies and drug dealers in some parts of that neighborhood."
Lilly frowned at the notebook in Scotty's hand. "Is this Danny's diary?", she asked.
"Yes... he started writing it sometime after his sister committed suicide, but it describes the events prior to that point." He flipped through the pages, stopping near the beginning. "This is messed up..."
(Blue Christmas by Elvis Presley)
Jenny was sitting on the living room couch, looking down on the floor. She was slowly rocking her body back and forth. Her face was pale.
Danny was standing in front of the near by mirror, buttoning his shirt. "I'll be back late", he said, still concentrated on his reflection. "Don't wait up. The dinner is in the oven."
No response.
He adjusted his collar. "I'll be home for Christmas, don't worry", he muttered.
Nothing.
Danny turned around. Jenny was looking down at the floor.
He walked over to her, appearing concerned. "Jenny?"
She sighed.
"Are you OK?", he asked gently.
Jenny shrugged, her fingers clenching. "I just wish you would make some time for me", she whispered, not looking up.
Danny leaned over, trying to smile. "There will be time", he said softly. "We got the whole live ahead of us."
Jenny slowly raised her head, looking him in the eyes. Her lips were quivering. "I bet that mom and dad thought the same", she said.
Silence. The color left Danny's place.
"We would spend every Christmas with them... until now", Jenny whispered.
Danny flinched. He moved away, his jaw clenched. "Like I said, the dinner's in the oven", he repeted before turning away. "Don't wait up."
He left, slamming the door shut behind himself. Jenny was staring, blankly, at the wall.
Scotty sighed, putting the diary down on the table. "You can guess the rest. When he arrived home, she was dead."
"Anything useful?"
"He rarely refers to anyone by names, the entries don't yield any suspects."
They sat there in silence for some time, each deep in thought. Eventually, Scotty sighed and flipped through the last few pages, trying to clear his head.
"Anyway... the last few pages... those are almost completely unreadable", he explained. "The storage room was moist, dusty... the letters are badly smeared." He stopped, his eyes growing wide. "Stephen."
"What?", Lilly asked.
"The least readable entry is of December 20th. On one of the... damaged pages, you can see "Stephen" written multiple times." He looked up at Lilly. "And Steven claimed that he hadn't seen Danny since early in the December that years."
"Maybe Danny was just thinking of his friend", Lilly suggested. "And wrote his emotions and feelings down."
Scotty smirked, handling her the diary. "There is one more readable word. A little after the first mention of Stephen."
Lilly's eyes went wide as she read that part. ""Showed up.""
#
"You lied, Stephen", Lilly exclaimed. "You saw Danny the day before he got killed."
Stephen gulped. "I didn't."
"We found his diary", Scotty said. "You did."
Lilly put a copy of the newspaper on the table in front of him. Stephen leaned back in his chair, feeling goosebumps. "The Christmas concert", she exclaimed. "Held on December 23th, two blocks away from the motel where he was staying."
Stephen said nothing.
"Look at the photographs. You will see him."
"What did he write?", Stephen asked, feeling himself flinch.
Lilly smirked. "How about you tell us what happened first?"
Stephen sighed, tears in his eyes. "Nothing bad." He smiled sadly. "It was the nice... last meeting."
(Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Mariah Carey)
Danny was leaving the motel through the back door, already wearing his Santa suit and holding a triphold in his hand. He didn't want anyone see him like that. It was a sunny day, but still, the snow had already started falling.
"Danny!"
Danny stopped, having heard a familiar voice. He shuddered and looked up. Stephen stood the few feet away, breathing heavily. He was wearing a shirt, coat, and jeans. His face was red, his skin coated in sweat.
"Stephen!", Danny exclaimed, as Danny rushed over to him. "How did you find me?"
Stephen exhaled. "I saw your picture in the magazine. I googled it and found out that there was a motel near by. I was just looking around."
"What are you doing here?", Danny asked.
Stephen sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "This is crazy, Danny. Come back." "At least spend a Christmas with me. Your friend."
Danny looked at Stephen intently, having troubles coming up with the words. "I can't", he said under his breath. Stephen's face fell. But I will come back", Danny said assuringly.
"When?", Stephen cried.
Danny smiled warmly. "After Christmas. Once I donate all the money that I've collected."
He put the triphold down and pulled a photograph out of his pocket. He showed it to the still confused Stephen. The photographs featured Danny and Jenny standing in front of the records store, hugged. On the photograph, they were obviously in their early teens.
"The record store, downtown", Danny said, smiling. "I told you about that, remember? Our parents would take us there all the time. Especially around Christmas." He chuckled. "We heard some of the first Christmas songs there."
He moved away and looked Danny in the eyes, still smiling. "I will buy it. With the money that will remain out of my savings and the money I've collected. I will re-name it, after Jenny." He sighed in relief. "I needed time. To find myself, learn how important it is to help others. To listen. To make them happy." He shuddered, his eyes growing watery. "Now I do."
Just as he finished the sentence, Stephen rushed over and hugged him tightly. Danny just stood there, straddled, for a short while, before hugging him back just as strong.
"You didn't mention that before", Lilly pointed out.
Stephen sighed, smiling sadly. "I figured it wouldn't have been of much help. He was leaving that area. He called me once after that. It was up to the police to carry on from there." He shuddered. "I just wanted to keep one good memory for myself."
#
Lilly was standing near the coffee machine, pouring herself another cup. Scotty was standing near by, deep in though. Kat, standing in between, just finished talking to John, and was going through the forensic reports one more time.
"I don't think Stephen did it", Lilly said. "He appeared honest. And he has no motive."
"Money is always the good motive", John pointed out. "The money that Danny was collecting was never found."
"He had no finantial problems, as far we have been able to find out", Will said, walking over to them from the near by break room.
John frowned. "And what about that young brunette? She acted suspicious. She had the gun. The right caliber."
Scotty shook his head. "I'm not completely buying Keith's story."
Kat sighed. "Well, Amy went through the mugshots of women matching the description, and she couldn't positively identify anyone as the woman that she had seen."
They barely even noticed Nick Vera walking over to them. He looked surprisingly cherfull, and he was holding a file in his hand.
"We have a match", he exclaimed. "The gun was registered to Alan Summer."