OUT THERE

Chapter Sixteen

"Angry people are not always wise." (Jane Austen, 'Pride and Prejudice')

Sinking down onto the nearby bench, he abandoned the laptop and tried to think clearly but it was hard. His sanctuary had been violated, which meant that nowhere was safe any more. One little picture had changed all that. Adam's heart beat rapidly and he gripped the edge of the bench with bone-white fingers, trying to ground himself in the physical world, since his mind was currently breaking apart like the universe exploding outwards.

They were here.

"No," he groaned. "They can't be." But who else would know about the eye? Pulling his thoughts back together with an effort, he ran through a list of names. Detective Flack. Stella. Lindsay. Danny. Mac...

A wretched giggle burst from his lips as he tried to picture his boss defacing his locker like some schoolyard bully. No way. No way in hell. These people were his friends and to think for even a second that they were capable...

He lowered his aching forehead into his hands.

In the darkness of his mind, Lindsay's face lingered, watching him carefully as she waited for the random pieces to connect. "You took the pictures," he told her at last. "I'll talk to you."

Easy to say. Much harder to do. When he rose from the bench, he found that his legs were shaking. "Stop that!" he ordered them fiercely - and they obeyed. Something buried long ago had escaped from deep within him. It was a feral emotion; little-used and, for that reason, hard to control.

Adam was angry.

Not irked or indignant, or slightly overwrought, but clenched so tightly that it made him ache all over. He spent his whole life trying to be a good man; taking the straight path through a twisted world. What right had anyone to treat him this way? To turn his fear into a joke for their own amusement? Worse than that - was it someone he saw here every day? Someone he worked with, and laughed with? Someone he trusted?

Find them, an urgent voice whispered in his head. Confront them...

"I will," he muttered, stalking out of the locker room before his temper cooled and he changed his mind.

-xx-

"Adam! I heard you were back. Why didn't you come and see me sooner?" Lindsay spoke his name with fondness and moved towards him, arms outstretched - until a closer view of his face made her pause. "Wait - are you okay? Your cheeks are on fire."

"Oh - yeah. I'm fine. Mac had me working on that sports car all morning... didn't Danny tell you? Guess I'm a little sore now, is all. Just waiting for the meds to kick in." His smile was fake and they both knew it. Lindsay's brown eyes looked perturbed. "Hey," he said quickly, before she could argue with him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything. But you should sit down first." She rolled a chair across to the layout table. Adam shook his head. Best not to linger. Adrenaline was making him twitchy and Lindsay had sharp eyes. If he sat down, she would be sure to notice. He hid the trembling of his hands by shoving them into his pockets. She frowned, but did not comment.

"The pictures you took at the crime scene and in the... in the..." Adam stammered to a halt. Why could he never finish? What, did he think that the words would turn around and bite him if he spat them out? He clenched his fists, unseen. "In the ambulance, okay? Of me and that... thing on my back. Did you show them to anyone? I mean, other than - you know - Mac and Danny and..."

"Adam!" This time, Lindsay's voice betrayed her shock. More than that, he could see it in her face as she stared at him, open-mouthed. "Why would you ask me something like that? Don't you trust me?"

He swallowed. Hurting Lindsay was more than he could bear. For a moment, he considered blurting out the truth. It lingered on his tongue, tasting bitter. "I..."

"No." Interrupting suddenly, she shook her head. "I'm sorry. Look, I shouldn't have snapped at you - that wasn't fair. Of course you trust me, Adam; just like I trust you. If you're asking, you must have a reason. I don't need to hear it," she added, holding up her hand. "The answer is 'no one'. Only the team - I promise."

He hated to push, but the urge was relentless. "Where did you look at the images?"

Lindsay bent her head and considered the question, studying him from beneath her lashes. "The conference room with Mac and Stella," she said at last. "Those were printouts. The AV lab with Danny, on the screen. We wanted to see if your wound matched any other eye motifs on the database - you know, like a gang tag or a cult symbol. No luck, though. It's just..."

"...an eye," Adam finished grimly. The AV lab. A memory stirred in his brain and he tried not to gasp as he finally made the connection. "Thanks, Lindsay."

She lifted her head and stepped closer. "Let me help you," she said quietly.

"No. This is my problem, okay? You said you wouldn't ask."

"I don't think I need to." Lindsay tried to hold his gaze, but he turned away. "Adam, be careful."

"Al-ways," he sang out, crossing his fingers in his pocket as he left his friend behind him and went in search of Haylen Becall.

-xx-

He found her at a quiet table leafing through a pile of books that held photographs and details from old cases - the kind that predated all their technology. "Good old-fashioned detective work," Flack liked to call it. Sometimes, Adam wondered if the man would have been happier in that era; striding around in a trench coat making his sarcastic quips and solving crime without the need for all that intimidating science.

"These are fascinating," Haylen said, lifting her head as he stepped into the room. "Have you seen them?"

"No. Yes." Adam felt rattled. "Haylen, we need to talk."

"I'm glad you came back today. Are you feeling better?"

"I... look, yes. I was, okay?" Frustrated by his useless stammering, Adam's anger took full control of his voice and suddenly the words were flowing freely. Startled, he let them. "Haylen, you told me you were hiding in the AV lab when Danny and Lindsay were discussing my attack."

"Not hiding." She frowned. "They just didn't see me, that's all. There's a difference."

Semantics. Adam gave a sharp laugh that sounded quite unlike him. "You saw the pictures, though, didn't you? I want the truth this time."

"I never lied to you, Adam. It's not my style." Taking a deep breath, she stood up and faced him squarely. "You don't like me very much, do you? I guess that's my fault, really - but I like you. No, not like that," she added hastily as his jaw dropped. "It's just... I can see what a nice guy you are - paranoid, but nice - and I would never want to cause you the kind of hurt I can see in your face right now. You should know that. Which is why I did exactly what I said. I stopped listening to their conversation and I left the room."

"You didn't see the eye?"

"What eye?"

Dismayed as he was by her statement, there was no denying it - her voice rang with conviction.

"Never mind," he mumbled, turning to leave. Disappointment mingled with relief. It wasn't Haylen after all - and, oddly, he was glad.

She came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder, making him flinch. "What is it, Adam?" she asked him. "Can't you tell me?"

Once again, the need to share was almost overwhelming. Adam shook his head and pressed his lips together as shame bound his tongue.

"No problem," he said at last, when he was able. "I just need to find out who else might have seen those pictures."

"Did you try asking Richard?" Haylen's face was thoughtful.

"Richard Polson?"

"Yes. I told you - we were there together. I left, but he kept on working. Maybe he knows what you're talking about."

Oh, God. There it was - the answer. Why hadn't he seen it from the start? "Yes," said Adam. "I kinda think he does." He bobbed his head in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Haylen." The phrase was difficult to say, but he had made a bad mistake and, however annoying she was, right now she deserved his good opinion.

Haylen nodded. Wheels were turning behind her eyes. "You'll find him in Storeroom B," she said. "He's stock-taking all day today. Some kind of punishment, I gather..."

-xx-

Adam peered up and down the corridor but nobody was watching him. Now that the moment was here, he tried not to think about the fact that this was one of the craziest things he'd ever done, and liable to get him fired. Driven by the fading remnants of his anger, he slipped inside and closed the door behind him. The store-room smelled of dust and body odour. Tiers of metal shelving rose from floor to ceiling in heavy stacks, piled high with obsolete equipment. There was no sign of Richard Polson.

"Show your face, you coward," he breathed.

The lab tech stepped out from behind a shelf. His smile was infuriating. "Coward? Surely that's you, Ross? Or have you developed a spine in the last few days, when no one was looking?" Moving forward, he pretended to glance over Adam's shoulder. "Nope..."

"Okay, you know what? Your jokes stink even worse than you do." Adam wrinkled his nose in disgust. "And the last one? That wasn't funny either."

"Oh - and which one would that be? The one that got me put on a week's worth of duties so anal they'd bore even you to death?" The casual voice didn't fool Adam. He could hear the hint of menace.

"Hey, no... wait, you're calling that a joke now? You told Mac it never happened - that you left the room before I spilled the powder. Tell me in what sick universe that's meant to be funny, 'cause really, I don't... You made me think I was crazy!"

"That's no great achievement." Richard shrugged. "Everyone knows it - don't you get that? Knew it from the moment you arrived here, with your pointless jabber and your twitchy little ways. What a loser."

Clenching his teeth, Adam tried to haul the conversation back on track. "I don't care," he lied. "That's their opinion. Don't suppose they like you either, all that much. And no; I'm not talking about the other day, okay? I'm talking about my locker. You did that - I know you did."

"Oooh, high school flashback." Richard's mocking tone was almost more than he could bear. Adam looked into his eyes and saw the truth. A boiling surge of emotion rose up inside him and he used that strength to propel the man backwards, smashing him into the wall of the storeroom.

"Say it," he urged. "Say you did it. Tell me why..."

"I'm impressed," Richard said, though he was clearly shaken by Adam's uncharacteristic reaction. He held up his hands in mock-surrender, his back still pressed against the wall, his dark eyes shifting from side to side. "Crime Scene Barbie gave the game away, didn't she? What makes you think she wasn't part of it?"

"Easy. She's not you."

Richard swelled out his chest and used both arms to break free of Adam's grip. "Much better," he said, looming over his foe. "Now, what were we talking about?"

"You were going to tell me why you scratched that eye on my locker."

"No," said the lab tech. "I wasn't."

Adam's face became frighteningly blank. "Then I guess our conversation's over," he said. With a tiny shrug, he turned away - only to swing back, arching his fist in front of him and driving it into the middle of Richard's leering face.

The blow stunned both of them. Richard dropped to the floor in a whimpering heap of pain. Adam stood above him, clutching his hand as the storeroom spun in a lazy circle and all his anger drained away like dirty water down a plughole.

"If you run to Mac," he whispered, "I'll tell him why I did it - and he'll believe me. This is over now, okay? Don't you ever come near me again."

His own act had broken him far more than Richard's spite ever could. Dark-eyed and grieving, he fled.

-xx-

A/N: I've had so many lovely PMs and reviews this week - thank you!

Hope you enjoyed this early update. More soon...