OUT THERE
A/N: This chapter was a lot of fun to write! I hope you enjoy it...
-xx-
Chapter Six
"People have died from hiccups, you know." (Noël Coward, 'Hay Fever')
"You look terrible."
Haylen popped up behind him like a genie from a bottle. Adam jumped and almost dropped the pot of fingerprinting powder that he was holding. Puffs of yellow dust plumed in his face and made him sneeze.
"Gesundheit."
"Oh... um, thanks." He turned around and stared at her. "Haylen - what are you doing here? I thought you were only coming in once a month?" That had been the one bright side to this deal that she had apparently worked out with Mac.
Haylen smiled and his heart sank. "Paid work, yes. But you can never have too much experience. Detective Taylor said that I can come in and work on a voluntary basis whenever I want to." She laughed. "You can't get rid of me that easily, you know..."
"Hehehe..." Was that a joke? And could she tell that his laugh was a nervous reaction?
Undaunted, Haylen continued. "Are you feeling okay? You look as though you've barely slept. That isn't good for you, you know. I always try to get at least seven hours every night."
Which explained why she was always so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. "I was reading," Adam told her. Not a lie - just misdirection. As far as she knew, he could be talking about the Journal of Forensic Sciences, or something equally dry. Not poetry... Although, secretly, he had to admit that he'd rather enjoyed it. "I lost all track of time - you know how that goes, right?"
"Oh, yes." She peered at the layout table. "So, what are you doing? Can I help?"
"Almost done," he bluffed. Well, he was. "Maybe one of the others...? I thought I saw Stella in Ballistics." Let her try and cosy up to the feisty Greek detective. Adam gave the first real smile that he had managed since arriving at work that morning.
"Good idea. Thanks." She practically skipped out of the room. Or was that just his sour interpretation? Stop it, Adam told himself, suddenly tired of feeling so pessimistic. The whole thing was ridiculous. Haylen was a perfectly nice young woman who knew what she wanted out of life and was trying her best to achieve it. What was wrong with that?
Hic!
Adam jumped again. The powder flew right out of his hand and landed on the floor, shooting out of the pot in all directions. Nearby, a lab tech sniggered.
Oh well, he thought, trying to stay positive as he stared at his dusty yellow sneakers. At least it hadn't landed on the evidence; Conrad's broken glasses from the crime scene yesterday. A floor was easily cleaned.
Hic!
The lab tech laughed again. Adam resisted the urge to glare at him. "Do me a - hic - favour?" he asked, instead. "Watch my station? I need to go and... hic!" He shrugged, and gave up, gesturing at the mess. The lab tech made a non-committal sound that Adam hoped was a 'yes' as he darted from the room.
He flew past Lindsay, who stepped backwards in surprise. "Sorry - hic!" he managed to call out as he high-tailed it down the few short steps that led to the locker room. Cleaning up the mess was important, he knew. But the hiccups were actually starting to hurt. They wrenched at his chest as though they were trying to yank out his lungs.
Water. He needed water.
Bursting through the door, he almost knocked Hawkes flying. "Hey," the doctor cried in mild amusement, grabbing his shoulders.
"Hic," said Adam dismally.
To his credit, Hawkes managed not to laugh. "Oh, that's too bad," he grinned, pushing Adam down onto the nearby bench.
"Know any good - hic - cures, doc?"
"Well now, there's a lot of speculation..." Adam could tell that Hawkes was about to launch into some kind of lecture on the subject. He tried not to look apprehensive. Catching the hint, Hawkes shook his head kindly. "But we don't need to go into the whole mythology of hiccup remedies right now. Let's just try them out until we find one that works. You good?" the doctor added, concern in his voice.
How bad did he look? "I'm - hic - fine..." Adam spluttered. Very convincing.
"Okay..." Hawkes folded his arms and considered. Adam felt like a bug under scrutiny - a very red, very uncomfortable hiccupping bug.
Or just a fool.
"If we can find out what caused it... Maybe it's something you ate? What did you have for breakfast?"
"Um... cake," Adam said in a low voice.
"Cake?"
"Homemade," he protested - as if that made any kind of difference. "A gift from my neighbour."
Hawkes shook his head and tried not to look judgemental. "Cake it is, then. Not well known for causing hiccups. Nothing spicy to eat last night?"
"Pizza..." Adam was starting to feel a little defensive about his diet. "Doc, I don't really care why I've - hic - got 'em. I kinda just want them to - HIC!"
"I'm guessing that last word was 'stop'," Hawkes supplied regretfully. "Sorry. It's the doctor in me. I can't help myself - first the diagnosis, then the cure. Okay, so we need to distract your vagus nerve somehow."
"Distract it?" Was that doctor-speak for something painful? "Can't you just give me a scare? Or better yet, a drink of water?"
"That's exactly what I meant," Hawkes said, trying to stay patient. "The vagus nerve runs from your brain to your abdomen. It's irritated right now and if we give it something else to deal with, the hiccups should stop. Stick your fingers in your ears."
"Excuse me?"
"Adam. Do you want my help or not?"
Adam was starting to wonder - but the look on Hawkes' face was enough to trap his protest, and even the next hiccup, in his throat. He swallowed nervously. "Fingers in ears. Got it." Praying that nobody else would come into the locker room, he did as he was told. "Um... doc. Why am I doing this?"
"I told you. We're trying to stimulate the nerve endings."
"Hic!" Adam shook his head. "I don't think it's working..."
"Okay. Then let's try holding your breath."
Yes, 'let's'. Adam felt a little sulky. Only one person in the room was looking stupid right now and it wasn't Sheldon Hawkes.
Hic!
"Okay, okay..." He clamped his left hand across his mouth and pinched his nose with the finger and thumb of his right hand. Hawkes watched him eagerly.
"What we're trying to do this time," he explained, as Adam turned bright red and his head began to swim, "is overload the blood with carbon dioxide... Hey! Let go!" He reached out to steady Adam, who dropped his hands, gasped... and hiccupped.
"Dammit." Adam's exclamation was dejected. "Hawkes, look, it's okay. I give - hic - up. I left a bit of a mess in the Fingerprint Lab. I'd better go and fix it."
"At least try a drink of water," Hawkes suggested, full of sympathy.
Nodding, Adam left the bench and moved to the fountain, where he stayed for several minutes, crossing his fingers in his pocket as he drank and drank. When he stood up, water dripping from his beard, they froze - and waited...
Hic.
"There you go, then." Adam shrugged. "Thanks anyway. I'm sure they'll stop eventually."
"Of course they will. Look, man, I'll come with you. What kind of mess...?"
Hawkes followed Adam out of the locker room door, as he tried to explain exactly what had happened without making himself look even more foolish. Taking a detour, they collected a bucket full of cleaning materials from the nearest storeroom. When, at last, they arrived at the Print Lab, Adam realised with a sudden jerk of horror that his day was about to get even worse.
At least the shock appeared to have cured his hiccups.
Mac stood in front of the abandoned workstation, frowning deeply. Nearby, Haylen hovered, looking slightly uncomfortable.
Adam's heart sank as he noticed that the other tech was nowhere to be seen.
"Uh-oh," Hawkes murmured in his ear. "I think you're in trouble..."
Adam edged into the room, both hands clutching his bucket. "Hey, boss," he began. "You'll never believe what happened..."
"I'd better," Mac said grimly. "Adam, this is unacceptable."
"The powder?" He stared at the yellow floor. To his guilty mind, it seemed far worse than it had when he left. An explosion of colour. A riotous mess.
"The evidence." Mac's frown deepened. "Left out on the bench, with no one to watch it. Chain of custody, Adam. You know how important that is."
Adam's glance flicked to Haylen. He couldn't help himself. The guilt on her face increased. "I didn't..." she mouthed, as she shook her head imperceptibly. Didn't what? Mean to get him into so much trouble?
"I never left it alone, Mac," he said in a low voice. "I know the rules, okay? There was a tech..." His brain froze. What was the man's name? He searched for it desperately. "Richard! Richard... something. He promised to watch it..."
Or did he?
A sneaking doubt crept into Adam's mind and he lowered his head. "I had hiccups," he mumbled. Even to his ears, it sounded like a feeble excuse.
Mac took the word and turned it into a loaded question. "Hiccups?"
"Bad ones," Hawkes put in helpfully. "Which seem to have gone now..." His voice tailed away. There was an uncomfortable silence.
A lab tech passed by the open doorway. "Richard!" Adam squeaked.
The dark-haired man looked wary. Suddenly, everyone's eyes were fixed upon him. "Yes?"
"This is him?" Mac demanded. Adam gave a nod of pure relief.
"Tell them," he said to Richard. "Tell them I had to leave. I asked you to stay - right?" Even as he spoke, he saw the subtle, guarded look slide down across the other man's face and knew exactly what was going to happen.
Richard was going to lie. To cover his own ass and let Adam take the fall.
Awesome.
"Not me," he said lightly. Adam had to admire his skill. No hint of deception. No flicker at all. Just a blank expression and a glib excuse. "You must be thinking of someone else." He turned to Mac. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't know what he's talking about. When I left the Print Lab fifteen minutes ago, Ross was working alone. I've no idea what happened next." He glanced at the powder on the floor. "Though I think I can guess..."
Adam squirmed.
"Enough," Mac said. He sounded weary. Almost as weary as Adam felt. Accepting Mac's curt nod of dismissal, Richard sidled away. Hawkes, too, drew back ever so slightly. Haylen was trapped, but the look on her face said that she would give anything right now to be able to flee the scene. "Clean it up," Mac continued, gesturing to the mess. "Secure the evidence. And see me when you're done. My office."
Oh, great. A suspended sentence. Adam hung his head once more as Mac strode past him. When he looked up, Haylen was in front of him.
"I didn't," she repeated softly. "I know what you're thinking and I don't blame you, but it's the truth."
The truth. Like Richard's statement? Adam couldn't bring himself to speak, so Haylen continued regardless. "Detective Bonasera didn't need me. I was walking past when I saw the mess. I came in to see if you needed any help - but there was no one here. That's when Detective Taylor appeared. You think I went and got him. You think I wanted to make you look bad."
Why not? She'd done it before... Wasn't that how this whole thing started?
"Okay," Adam said, afraid to trust himself with any more words than that.
"Okay?" She gazed into his eyes, as though she were trying to read his mind.
"Okay," he insisted, firm now and anxious for her to leave. "Look, I have to get on and clean this up. D'you mind?"
"Want some help...?" she ventured. "Crime scene cleanup expert, remember...?" The joke was feeble. Adam shook his head, waving Hawkes into the room.
"Got some. Thanks." The word felt bitter on his tongue.
Both men watched her leave in silence. "Not her fault," Hawkes said. "You know how Mac is. Always popping up when you least expect it."
"Oh. Yeah..." Adam muttered, hiding his anger deep inside as he set down his bucket and stared at the task ahead of him.
-xx-
Tapping on Mac's door in full view of everyone walking past, Adam felt like a guilty schoolboy. He had cleaned the floor but the powder had fought back, covering him from top to toe. Hawkes hadn't fared much better - but at least he had a change of clothes in his locker. Adam had used his the other day, after an unfortunate incident with a pile of garbage, and had somehow forgotten to replace them. So now he was stuck; a jester in a suit of sunshine patches that did not match his mood. At least he had managed to find a fresh lab coat.
Mac looked up and waved him in. He was on the phone. Adam forced himself to walk through the door and stand in front of the desk, a half-formed apology hovering on his lips as he waited for the boss to finish his conversation.
He glanced at the chair - but Mac pointed to the couch. That was his first surprise. The next one came a moment later, when Mac's call ended and he headed for the door. "Wait there," he said. "I'll be right back."
And Adam found himself alone.
"Okay..." he murmured. "Different..."
Leaning back, he settled into the couch. Why had he never realised how comfortable it was? Adam shook his head wryly. "Probably because, every other time I sit here, I'm on the edge of my seat," he told the empty room. "Literally." The joke brought a tiny smile to his lips. He wriggled, and closed his eyes.
Bad move.
"Adam," said a quiet voice. The strong smell of coffee filled his nostrils. Dragging himself back to reality, he felt, rather than saw Mac sitting beside him. A hot mug was shoved into his hands as he turned and blanched.
"Hey, boss. I was just..."
"Resting your eyes?" Mac suggested. "Confirms my theory. Drink up."
The coffee was scalding hot. Adam blew on it carefully and then took a sip. It tasted bitter but he swallowed anyway, not daring to spit it out. He glanced across the top of his mug and found that Mac was staring back.
"Now," his boss said. "Talk to me."
A dangerous invitation. Adam could tell by the gleam in Mac's eye that he saw the funny side of his request. I can be succinct, he decided. And tried. Really hard...
"Look, I'm sorry, boss. About the powder. It was the hiccups, honestly, and they made me jump, so..."
"Adam. I don't care about the powder. I'm asking about you."
"Me?" His voice sounded small and lost to his own ears. Pathetic. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I mean - why, boss? I'm fine."
A look of sheer exasperation passed over Mac's face for a moment, startling Adam. "Do you know," he said, "how sick I am of hearing that phrase?"
And suddenly Adam's mind flashed back to the casual, slouching figure in the conference room. "I'm sorry," he said once more. "You're right. I guess I'm a little tired, okay, Mac? I haven't been getting much sleep."
"Much? Or any?"
Oh, the man was good - no doubt about it. Adam bit his lip; an answer in itself.
Mac continued to stare as Adam sipped at the coffee nervously. At last, he spoke again.
"It's hard," he said. "This job can be... demanding. And your private life is just that - private. But Adam, if you can't keep the two in balance..." He paused, and gave a short laugh. "I realise, of course, that I'm not the best person to be giving you this lecture."
The joke was meant to help; Adam knew that. He tried to smile.
"It's okay, boss. I understand. I'll get some sleep. A good seven hours..." The grin that came at last was wider than he expected - until Mac spoke again and wiped it from his face in an instant.
"About the evidence..."
Oh, God. Here it came. "I'm sorry," was all he could say.
Mac shook his head. Was that... puzzlement in his eyes?
"Adam, you've never lied to me. I trust you; you know that. And if you tell me that Richard promised to watch your work, I'll believe you. But tiredness... it can play tricks on you..." He seemed almost uncertain how to continue. That was new and it frightened Adam, as he saw what he thought was the meaning behind Mac's words.
"You think I've gone crazy?" he gasped. "That I imagined the whole thing? Is that what you're saying?"
The outburst startled Mac.
"Of course not. I'm saying you're worn out. I'm saying that maybe not everything happened the way you remember it... Adam, are you sure? If you tell me you are, then the matter's over as far as you're concerned. I'll call Richard in here instead and deal with his lie."
His lie. Adam frowned. He thought back as hard as he could. A sick feeling had begun to worm its way into his gut. "I think... I'm sure... I asked him, Mac. I know I did. He was there alright. But..."
"But?" Mac prompted.
"But he didn't answer. It was... a snigger. He sniggered. I'm sure of that now."
"Now? Not then?"
"I... I don't know." Adam felt so stupid. All this fuss because he had been so careless. Mac was right. He was tired. Too tired to work, and that was unacceptable. The solution was simple. "Maybe..."
...I should go home, he was about to say. Before he could finish his sentence, however, Danny rolled up to the door and peered through the glass in search of Mac. Adam's mouth snapped shut.
"What is it?" Mac's voice was sharper than it could have been. But the look on Danny's face was urgent. He wheeled into the room, giving Adam a curious glance before he spoke.
"I don't want to interrupt - I'm sorry, Mac; there's been another one. And this time..." His eyes narrowed. Adam could see the anger in them. "Well, the victim didn't make it. Died at the scene, just as the paramedics got there."
Instantly, Mac's demeanour changed. He stood up. "Go with Lindsay."
A twitch - just a twitch of frustration ran through Danny as he gave his calm reply. Adam marvelled at his self-control. "I can't. No access, boss. You'll have to send someone else."
"Can I go?" Adam said.
"I'm not done with you yet." Mac turned. Had he misunderstood?
"No, boss. I mean - can I go to the crime scene? That is... if you think... It's just that I want to," he admitted suddenly. "Conrad, yesterday... The victim... I want to help." The words came out in a hopeless jumble. Safe behind Mac, Danny pulled a sympathetic face.
"No."
Adam's head dropped. "No?" he echoed. No. Of course not. Why on earth would Mac let him go to a crime scene, a vital one, after his inept behaviour this morning? What was I thinking...?
The truth was, he couldn't seem to get the image of Conrad Valens out of his head. Over and over again, the doctor lifted the sheet and his heart stopped...
"I have to do something," he murmured.
Mac sat down again and sighed. "I ought to send you home..." he said, half to himself.
"Please don't," Adam begged. "No more accidents, I promise."
"No more hiccups?" Mac said, much to Danny's bewilderment.
"All gone." Adam's tone was fervent. "I'm fi... I'm okay, boss. Really. And when this shift is over, I'll get that sleep we talked about..."
"You'd better." Shaking his head, Mac reconsidered. "CCTV. Both..."
"...scenes. On it, boss." Adam rose from the couch, still clutching his mug, and edged past Mac. "Thank you," he added, softly.
Mac turned back to Danny. His face was unreadable. "Find Richard Polson," he said, "and send him to me."
-xx-
A/N: Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed the last chapter (I love reading your comments!), and to Farmgirl and Lily, who are so generous with their time and advice.
More soon, as the story begins to take a darker turn...