CHAPTER FOUR

Danny took the magnifying glass to Adam's crime scene photos. With Adam preoccupied with Ryan Lewis, Danny had mostly taken over the case. One of his pictures slid off onto the floor, and he bent down to retrieve it. He gripped the lab table as he knelt down...and involuntarily cried out. Pain shot up his arm. He'd made the mistake of gripping the table with his still-healing fingers. He jerked his hand down and gently straightened his fingers out again, wincing. It had been almost two months since the warehouse fiasco. He was somewhat ignoring doctor's orders to splint his fingers. He needed both hands to do his job, and the patch job he'd done at the warehouse had been good enough for him.

Or at least it had been. He might have to suck it up and not use his hand for a while.

Two hands appeared in front of him, one to grab the stray photo, and the other to gently place her hand on his arm. "Hey. Are you okay?" Lindsay Monroe's voice asked.

"Yeah, sorta forgot a semiautomatic stepped on my fingers," Danny grimaced. He gingerly stood up. Lindsay placed the photo back on the table. "What are you up to?" he asked, the pain somewhat subsiding.

"Working a case with Stella and Mac," Lindsay shrugged. "Do you have anyone who looks good for yours on your end?"

"We still can't find Jack Lewis, and right now, he's on my list. He doesn't answer his cell phone and apparently hasn't been home, we've had a uniform keeping an eye on the place," Danny explained.

"How about the kid?" Lindsay asked.

"Haven't seen much of him; I think he's permanently attached to Adam's shirt," Danny said. "Gotta tell you, seeing Adam with a kid, not exactly something I thought I'd ever see."

"Ran into Hawkes, asked him about the kid today, Hawkes said he's talking, and almost the picture of health," Lindsay said.

"That's good," Danny said. His eyes drifted across a picture of the body, with the closet doors in the back. "Take a look at this, Montana. I can't imagine what that kid went through. He was in here," Danny said, pointing to the doors.

"Oh God...and his mother was..." Lindsay absently ran a hand down Danny's back. "I can't imagine."

"The stuff of nightmares," Danny agreed. He looked over at Lindsay, realized she was lost in another world. Her fingers were lightly tracing his own healing ones. "Montana."

"It should have been me," Lindsay murmured. She looked at him. "It should have been me in there."

Danny looked around the lab, then to her. "Listen to me," he said, tilting her chin with his finger. "Nothin' you can do about it now. I for one am glad it wasn't you."

"I heard you talking in your sleep," Lindsay said quietly. "You still have nightmares about it. Those are my fault. I should've been in there."

"Montana, this is not your fault. I ain't gonna say it again," Danny told her firmly. "I'm just glad you came over there after me." He smiled. "Flack needed all the smart people out there. I wouldn't trust my life to some rookie out there with an itchy trigger finger," he said with a smile. He saw the corner of her mouth twitch. "I'm glad it was me, and not you. I don't think I could've lived with myself if..." he stopped and hugged her, not caring if anyone saw. He pulled away and looked at her. "Better?"

Lindsay nodded. "I think so."

"We'll get through this," Danny told her.

She believed it...sort of.

Flack tapped on Mac Taylor's door. Mac motioned him in with his free hand-the other was holding the phone. Flack mouthed Where's Danny?

Mac pointed down the hall. Flack nodded and left his office, going in search of his friend. He finally found him and Lindsay hunched over a pile of pictures. "Danno. Get your game face on. Jack Lewis is downstairs."

Danny looked up. "Where'd you find him?"

Flack grinned. "We didn't...he returned to the scene of the crime," he said.

Danny looked at Lindsay. "Could you-"

"I'll finish looking over your crime scene photos," Lindsay volunteered.

Flack pretended not to notice the look that passed between the two of them, the gentle touch Lindsay had on Danny's arm.

Lindsay returned to the pictures. Something was out of place in the photos, but she couldn't place what. She methodically looked them over, inch by inch, scouring one photo completely before moving on to the next one.

She was hunched over them when an elated Stella Bonasera came into Trace, holding a printout aloft. "I got our DNA results back, and it's...Lindsay?"

Lindsay blinked and looked up. "Stella. Hi," she said absently.

"What are you looking at, kiddo?" Stella asked, coming around the table.

"What? Oh, these are the crime scene photos from Danny and Adam's case. There's something out of place in these pictures, Stel, I just can't put my finger on it."

"Hey," Stella said. She put a hand on Lindsay's shoulder, making her look up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lindsay tried.

Stella knew better. "The look on your face and the tone of voice is not 'nothing,'" she said. "What's up?"

"I don't know," Lindsay said finally. "I really don't. It's so stupid."

"Try me," Stella said gently.

Lindsay said nothing for a few moments. Then, finally, "Every time Danny gets called out..." She looked up at Stella helplessly.

"Oh. You worry," Stella said. "Lindsay, that's going to happen for a while. I know how close you two are. I'm the same way around Mac."

"Really."

"It's natural when you work with someone for so long. When that building exploded two years ago...I was a wreck. I didn't have time to worry. It all hit me later, after we made the arrest, though. And then every time Mac got called to a scene..." She shrugged. "It gets easier. I know what you're going through. If you need someone to talk to..." She trailed off, something in the crime scene photos catching her attention.

"Stella?" Lindsay asked.

"I know what's throwing you off in these pictures," Stella said. She slid one of Mary Lewis under the glass. "Look at her arms. Notice anything?"

It finally clicked, and Lindsay couldn't believe they'd missed it before. "Stella, there are no defensive wounds there." She looked up. "With the beating she got, you would think-"

"Sometimes all you can do is take it," Stella said quietly. "If it was the norm in the house..."

Lindsay looked out to see Adam and Ryan walking by. Ryan was talking animatedly, and Adam looked very lost and bewildered. "His father is downstairs," she told Stella. "You think..."

"Let's hope Flack gets something from him," Stella said, quiet anger etching her voice.

Author's Note: Thanks for reviewing and putting me on alert. Real life has been a bit crazy lately, and my plot bunny is currently hiding under my bed, refusing to come out til it calms down a little. Bear with me. Reviews are usually warranted and always appreciated (and always taken into account, I had a request for some Stella, so I tried to put her in).