"Are you sure?" I ask. "You didn't move it somewhere else?"
"No. No, I'm certain. I was working on it when you came in to tell me to go home, wasn't I?"
I think back. "You were filling in forms, I didn't see any of the details."
"Yes, there was only one lot to fill in, the Berrow case. It must have been those ones you saw."
"Did you finish?"
"I can't remember. Either finished or nearly finished, I think. But I know that I didn't leave the office after talking to you."
He starts looking around the room and I forestall him, getting up to look on the other side of the desk, on the floor, on top of cupboards. He's flicking through everything on his side of the desk, opening case files and sifting through stacks of paper hoping to find the file he's looking for hidden inside. I think that we both know already that it's hopeless.
"What's going on?" asks Hawkes. I didn't notice him come back in.
"Mac's file's gone. The one he was working on," I answer tersely.
"Damn. You sure?"
"Yes, very sure. Just looked everywhere for it, and Mac says he never left the room."
"No one came in to collect it from him?"
I hadn't thought of that possibility, but Mac's shaking his head. "No, definitely not. I needed to check something with Sid in the coroner's section, and I remember thinking it would have to wait until tomorrow because he'd already gone home. It should still be here."
"So someone must have taken it." Hawkes voices what we're all thinking. "I presume that after checking with Sid you'd have handed it straight over to the state attorney's office?"
"Yes, when I'd finished it would be all done apart from that, there was just a place where Sid forgot to sign."
"Right," I say, thinking this through. "So the only chance anyone would have of taking the file would be when it was here in your office?"
"Probably."
"So, if I wanted to steal something from your office, I'd wait for you to go home. But…"
"But Mac's got a habit of not going home," Hawkes interrupts. "I think I know what you're getting at."
"We need to test any cups you used, to start with," I begin.
"Don't worry about that, Stella," says Hawkes. "I'll do that now, put them in to be analysed, they should be ready in the morning. Mac, roll up your sleeve."
Mac complies and Hawkes expertly inserts the needle point into the vein inside his left elbow, drawing a few centilitres of blood. "Is he ok?" I ask as he removes the syringe and presses a piece of gauze to Mac's arm.
"Yeah, once he's slept of the rest of whatever he's been dosed with he should be," Hawkes reassures me. "He seems fine, but if you're worried then maybe you should take him to the hospital and get a second opinion."
"I'm here," Mac points out. "And I'm fine, I don't need the hospital."
"Your call. But Mac, you are not, under any circumstances, coming in to work tomorrow, got it?"
Surprisingly, he doesn't argue. I decide we'd better leave before he changes his mind. "Hawkes, are you sure you're ok with staying here on your own to get those samples?"
"It's fine Stell, don't worry. It shouldn't take long, anyway."
"If you're sure…"
"I'm very sure. Get going!"
We both help Mac clamber to his feet. He sways slightly, but remains upright when Hawkes cautiously removes his arm. "You ok?" I ask.
"I'm fine. But I'm glad the elevator works."
"Come on then."
I'm still supporting him and he's leaning on me quite heavily, our arms around each others' shoulders. Hawkes walks alongside as we leave the office, down the stairs and along the corridor to the elevator, where he presses the call button for us.
"Phone me in the morning, I'll have the results by then," he says.
"I'llsee you in the morning," I point out.
"No, you won't. You'll be making sure that Mac's ok, and I'm not expecting him to wake up early. And you need sleep yourself. It's half past twelve. So phone me when you get up."
"But…" I begin.
"Stella. It's not like I'll be working solo, Danny and Lindsay'll be here too."
The elevator doors chime as they open and I admit defeat, stepping inside with Mac. "Thank you," I say to Hawkes as the door closes, and I mean it for much more than covering for me on my shift the next morning. He waves.
We ride to street level, Mac and I, and once we're out of the building we find an empty cab and I give the driver my address. I don't think this registers with Mac and I'm glad, because there's absolutely no way I'm letting him go back to his on his own tonight, and he'd probably argue.
He's silent during the drive, head leant back against the seat-rest. His eyes are open, but he's not looking at me, and I watch him in the dim orange glow of the street lamps. I wonder if he realises how much other people worry about him sometimes. We may not be in the lab at the moment, but it seems that there's always a glass wall around him, wherever he is.
The cab stops and it takes me a moment before I jolt out of my thoughts and realise that we're in front of my apartment. I pay the driver and walk around the back of the cab to help Mac out. He stumbles as we walk through the entrance area, and I'm thankful that the elevator's working this week. It doesn't take long to reach my apartment, but it feels like ages to me. I fumble for my keys and twist them in the lock single-handed, and kick the door shut behind me with my foot. I'm taking most of Mac's weight now and he's walking along with his eyes closed. Walking being a verb I'm using loosely.
In my bedroom I push him down to sit on the bed and open my wardrobe, reaching for a drawstring bag on the floor. There's one of these at Mac's too – our "just in case" bags. In case of eventualities like this one. I pull out the t-shirt and joggers which Mac apparently considered nightwear when he packed them, and toss them to him.
"Want something to eat or drink?" I ask.
He shakes his head. His eyes are starting to fall closed again.
"Get changed before you fall asleep sitting there. I don't think you'll be very comfortable sleeping in your suit."
"Go away then," he says, managing the ghost of a smile. I laugh and leave the room.
I head into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. The curtains aren't drawn and I look out into the night, the square points of light from other windows in other apartment blocks only serving to deepen the darkness surrounding them. The ever-present traffic is a soothing soundtrack.
I check my watch, and it's been about five minutes, so I figure Mac's had enough time to change. I turn into the corridor and he's standing in my bedroom doorway, holding onto the frame. His face is greyish, and I'm worried enough to snap at him.
"What the hell are you doing?" I ask.
"What?" he asks, confused.
I realise what he's thinking and groan. "You think I'm letting you sleep on the couch?"
"I…"
"Don't be an idiot. You can barely stand. Just lie down and go to sleep." I grab his arm and force him back into my room. He doesn't say anything, and pretty much falls into the bed. I throw the duvet over him. His eyes are already closed.
"Sleep well," I whisper, but he doesn't reply.
As always, thank you so much for all your great feedback! Next chapter'll be Thursday. Blue x