Disclaimer-- I don't own the characters of CSI: NY
At five in the morning Stella woke from a bloody nightmare and sat bolt straight in bed, her breath heaving in her chest. It took her a minute to realize she wasn't in her own bed. Only moments later it all came back, the case, the phone call, and a large bottle of Jack Daniels that she and Flack had managed to finish off between the two of them. Well that last part explained the hammering headache. She ran a hand through her messy hair and tried to recall the rest of the night. They had talked about the case, about Amelia Simmons' biological mother, and she'd methodically gotten drunk. She vaguely recalled him picking her up when she'd started to drift and carrying her into the bedroom to settle her in the bed. The whisper of a kiss she remembered brushing against her forehead may have just been a dream, but it made warmth wash over her. She chalked it up to the booze from the night before.
Her head pounded harder the longer she sat so she made her way towards the kitchen, hoping to find a large amount of pain killer. She came to a halt and smiled in spite of herself when she saw Flack laid out face down on the couch. There was too much man for too little furniture and he couldn't have been comfortable seeing as he was about a foot and a half taller than the couch was long. Deciding that she'd call him to wake him up a bit later she draped a blanket over him, brushing a hand over his shoulder. She stole a few aspirin before she slipped off.
Two hours later Flack cursed as his phone rang. He groped blindly and held it cautiously to his ear. "Flack."
"How's your head detective?" an amused voice asked.
He sat up straight and felt the sharp pain in the body part in question. "Hurts like a bitch. Last time I saw you, you were in my bed." He cursed himself for the way it sounded. "Why didn't you wake me up?"
She chuckled. "You looked like you needed it. ."
"Well thanks, for that and for waking me up. I doubt I would have done it on my own." He rubbed absently at his cheek where the fabric of the couch had left its imprint. "What time's your shift start?"
"Not for a couple of hours, but I'm going in early."
He'd been thinking the same thing. "I'll be in as soon as I can."
When Mac found Stella in the lab three hours before her shift started it certainly didn't surprise him; especially since he'd slept in his office the night before. He realized how important it was for all of them to solve this one.
"You figure anything out?" he asked.
She responded absently. "JD takes the edge off but it hurts even more in the morning." It took a moment for what she'd just said to penetrate and she looked up somewhat apologetically. "As my boss you didn't hear that."
He shook his head. "Absolutely not, but as your friend…"
Stella sighed. "I woke up with one hell of a hangover this morning."
"You're not the only one," Flack chimed in from the door.
Mac looked at the pair of them curiously but chose not to comment. "Anything new?"
"We may have something on the biological father. Apparently he made a big stink just after Amelia was born trying to get her back; clearly that didn't work. He seems to have dropped off the face of the planet, but we've got his mother."
Stella already had her jacket on. "Let's go."
Half an hour later they pulled up to a small, tidy house with a family of garden gnomes in the front yard. Flack stepped out of the car and shook his head. "Doesn't seem likely we'll find a murderous kidnapper here does it?"
"You never know."
They made their way up the little path and waited after Flack rang the doorbell. Soon enough a small woman with wheat blonde hair and huge brown eyes opened the door. "Can I help you?" she asked politely.
"Jenna Greene?" She nodded and Flack flashed his shield. "NYPD ma'am, we'd like to talk to you about your son."
Her eyes darkened and she went very pale. "Of course, come in." A few minutes later they were settled in her cozy sitting room and she served them the tea she'd insisted upon. She sat down across from them and took a deep breath. "Now, what is it you need?"
Stella looked over at Flack then jumped in. "Mrs. Greene…"
She shook her head and there was a lilting hint of the magnolia south in her voice when she spoke. "Please call me Jenna, I was never a Mrs."
"Jenna, was your son aware of the fact that he had a child?"
"Yes, James knew about the little girl, but not until well after the fact."
"Could you explain it to us?"
She sighed. "I suppose I should start from the beginning. I got pregnant when I was sixteen years old. I was born and raised in a little one light town in Mississippi and James' father worked there one summer. By the time I realized I was pregnant he was gone and I couldn't find any trace of him. I wanted the baby; my father wanted…" She paused and her eyes fluttered shut for a moment before she continued. "My father wanted me to get rid of the baby. I went along with it, said I'd make the appointment, and even as a spoke to him I planned out in my head how I'd get away."
"You were very brave," Stella said quietly.
"A lot of people say that. It was either that or really stupid. Anyway, I got some help from a friend and I came to New York. I had to work hard every day to get the money for a place to live, but I did it. When James came I was so happy, but it didn't take long for there to be problems." She paused.
"Go on," Flack urged.
"As he got older he started to wonder about his father. He asked about him all the time, got teased by the kids at school because he didn't know his dad. When he was about eight I told him what had happened. I told him the whole truth because I couldn't bear to lie to my baby. Looking back maybe I should have lied. From then on he was a constant problem. He acted out, got kicked of school. He was always emotionally unstable. When he was around fifteen years old he got into drugs." There were tears shining in her eyes. "I tried to get him help, I did everything I could but I just couldn't reach him. How can you help somebody who doesn't want your help?" she asked.
"Take a minute if you need to."
"No, I'll be fine. James moved out the day he turned eighteen. I didn't see him much for a long time, just if he needed money. Then one day about three months after the little girl was born he showed up here. He told me how this girl he'd been involved with, I think he said her name was Caine, had gotten pregnant. She'd apparently disappeared for a while."
Stella nodded. "Then she turned up and told him about Amelia."
"Yes. She'd had the baby and given her up for adoption by the time she told James. He was absolutely furious with her and he wanted his daughter. He tried, but she was already with the adoptive parents, and nobody would give a baby to someone like James. He's emotionally unstable and Caine hadn't put his name on the birth certificate. I tried to tell him but… well he never did listen to me very well."
"What happened after that?" Flack asked.
She shrugged. "Nothing; he told me they wouldn't give him the baby and it seemed like he'd given up. A few weeks later he disappeared. Can you tell me what you think he's done?"
The two shared a brief look before Stella answered. "His daughter, Amelia Simmons; we found her parents murdered in their apartment. The little girl is missing."
Jenna's hand flew to her mouth. "You think it could have been James?"
"We don't know anything for sure at this point," Flack told her kindly. "But if there's anything you can tell us about your son it would be very helpful."
"He turned up here about a week ago." She gazed sadly out the front window as she thought back. "He told me he was looking at a house to rent. He wanted money, more money than I could possibly give him. When I asked him he… called me a whore and told me he wished I'd have listened to my father twenty five years ago. He wasn't high, I've always been able to tell when he's been using drugs, but there was something wrong with him. He was manic; the word that came to my mind was disturbed."
Flack leaned forward to speak to her. "I know this is hard for you, but can you think of anything else? Did he tell you where this house was?"
She nodded. "He said it was in Long Island. Other than that…"
"That's more help than you think," Stella told her as they stood. "If you think of anything else you'll let us know?"
"Of course." They were halfway to the door when she spoke again. "Whether James is involved or not, would you please let me know when you find out if she's alright, Amelia I mean."
"We will. Thank you Jenna."
Both of them felt a weight lift as they shut the door behind them. "Some story huh?" Flack asked as they pulled away from the curb.
Stella nodded. "I can't imagine what that would be like. She works herself to the bone to build a life for her and her son and she loses him with no way to get him back."
"She's had a hard life," he agreed.
"It's looking more and more like James Greene is our guy. He's unstable, he wanted the little girl, and it sounds to me like he was getting ready to set up house."
Flack nodded. "I'm with ya there. I doubt he's using his real name, so it may slow the search down a bit, but with any luck we'll know something by tonight."
True to his word, Flack appeared in Stella's office at around seven that night. She looked up with anticipation shining in her eyes. "Did you find him?"
He nodded. "I got the address."
She smiled. "Then why are we still standing here?"
In the car he gave her the rundown. " I talked to the landlord. The guy fits the description perfectly, and he's been seen bringing toys and things like that into the house. He payed first and last months rent in cash so the landlord didn't ask a whole lot of questions. We don't think he'll hurt Amelia, but considering everything you never know. We play it safe, knock on the door and wait for an answer."
"Got it; and if we don't find her?"
Flack looked her straight in the eye. "Then we work our asses off until we get her back."
They stepped out of the car and met their backup in front of a dingy house. Flack made his way to the front door with Stella behind him. He knocked and waited for a moment. When they didn't get anything he knocked again, louder this time. Behind him there were whispers from the officers and he silenced them with a harsh command. "Stell, you hear that?"
She stepped up next to him and listened closely. She heard a very faint voice, screaming. "It's her."
Flack nodded and turned away from the door for a moment. He took his gun out of his holster and with his eyes set he kicked the flimsy door in. They quickly spread out through the house and discovered no sign of the girl or James Greene. Flack was contemplating punching a wall when he heard Stella.
"Flack!" He rushed into the back room and found her on her knees, her hands working at the floorboards. "I could hear her. There must be some kind of a cellar but I can't get the door open and she hasn't been responding."
He dropped to his knees next to her. "Amelia? My name's detective Flack, I'm with the police. I'm up here with Detective Bonasera and we're going to get you out okay? Just do me a favor and let me know that you're okay. Yell for me okay?" Flack and Stella held their breath as there was silence for a moment. Then they both grinned like idiots when they heard her cry out. Her voice was weak, but she was there. It took a few minutes, but together they pried the door open. The minute it was clear of the floor Flack was down the rickety stairs and into the dark. Stella tossed him a flashlight and it shone weakly through the inky black. "Keep on making noise for me Amelia." He heard what sounded like her feet kicking against a wall and followed the noise. Moments later his flashlight shone over a small bed and Amelia Simmons. The sense of relief he felt was overwhelming but he was cautious with her none the less.
"Are you the police?" she asked in a terrified and unsure voice.
Flack crouched down to her level and nodded. "I am, but I can show you my badge if you want to know for sure."
She clutched at the teddy bear, covered with dried blood, in her arms and nodded. "Yes." He pulled his badge from his pocket and passed it to her. She looked at it for a moment then dropped the teddy on the bed and threw herself into his arms, her little body wracked with sobs. He held onto her tight and stood, murmuring whatever words of comfort that came to his mind as he slowly made his way out.