Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of "CSI:NY"-they belong to Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS.
Author's Note: Thanks to the folks that are R&R'ing. Here's Chapter 3. Oh, and for clarification, Sterling Monroe is Lindsay's grandpa. Typos happen when you're excited for a story. :)
Chapter 3
"Well lookit here, Stella. Alert and sharp as usual, huh?"
The voice has a grating Bronx accent and a teasing tone and I know exactly who it is without opening my eyes. Just as I'm about to get in the backseat with Marion Davies…"Nice to see you again too, Messer."
I open one eye and smile as Danny Messer's blue eyes come into view. I'm not sure what I expected him to look like after two years in Montana, but…he looks exactly the same. Brown slacks, newsboy cap and suspenders. "Sure don't look like a farmer, there, buddy."
He grins. "Well you don't look much like a PI either, so it's nice to know nothing changes."
"I don't hear from you in two years and this is what I get?" I tease him. "Thanks."
"If you two boys are done," Stella cuts in, who's been watching this whole exchange with an amused smile on her face. "Flack, you want some coffee?"
"Yeah, sounds good," I say. "You goin' all the way back to the office for a cup of yours?"
She smirks. "You're stuck with basic hospital grade stuff today, Flack. I'll be right back."
There's a pause, and I look up at Danny, who is staring through the window above my head into the hospital room. "Hey. You okay?"
He blinks and looks down at me. "What? Oh, yeah man, I'm good, real good."
"Liar."
He sighs and sinks down next to me. Danny leans back and closes his eyes. "You know man, I was terrified to meet her family but…you know I figured it would happen over a swanky dinner somewhere." He jerks a thumb backward. "Not in a hospital. Not after he was mugged by one of 'my people.'"
I frown. "Wait a sec. 'One of your people'?" I clarify, and Danny nods. "You're kiddin'."
"Nah man, her granddaddy thinks I'm still a hood." He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. "I ain't been back in that room since."
"Lindsay in there?" I ask.
"Yeah. Has been since we got here."
"I'm sorry, man." I mean it too, I know how hard Danny's worked to shake off his old life. He's about as much of a hood these days as I am king of England.
The elevator doors open, and Stella walks off the elevator, arm in arm with our chief of police. She's laughing and he's chuckling, something I never thought I'd ever see. I knew that they were together, but I'd never seen them together until this moment.
I nod. They're good together. "Morning, Flack," Mac greets me, and I nod a greeting back. He smiles over at Danny. "Nice to see you again Mr. Messer," he says. "Wish it was under better circumstances."
"Good to see you again too, Mac," Danny replies, shaking his hand. "Lindsay's in with her grandfather, if you'd like to say hello."
"I'm actually here on official business," he says apologetically. "I need to speak to Mr. Monroe in an…official capacity."
"Course," Danny says. He trails off and suddenly finds the tile floor very interesting. Stella follows Mac into the room, leaving Danny and I alone again.
"Oh come on man," I say, clapping him on the back. "You can't avoid this forever. I got your back."
"That's good," Danny says nervously, as he stands. "'Cause I'm pretty sure he'll stab me in the back first chance he gets with his good arm."
I can't help but laugh as we go into the room.
Lindsay's eyes sparkle when she sees me. "Flack!" she says happily. "It's so good to see you again."
"You as well. The country air's been good to you," I tell her. She blushes at the compliment. The girl who walked into my office two years ago in a designer dress and shoes is gone. This Lindsay is much more of a plain Jane, wearing a simple red skirt and white top. Her hair longer now, hanging loose around her shoulders. She looks like the farmer's daughter for sure.
"And you are?" The question comes from Sterling Monroe. It's clear that Lindsay gets her looks from her mother's side of the family. Sterling Monroe is all angles, sharp face, pointed nose. His eyes are blue, unlike Lindsay's brown. His hair must have been blonde at some point, but it's more gray than anything. And the look I'm currently getting from him, if I was a weaker man, would have me wearing cement shoes in the East River.
"Mr. Monroe, this is Don Flack, a private investigator. His father was with me on the NYPD," Mac explains.
"And what is he doing here?" he asks.
I bristle, and Stella puts a hand on my arm. I take a breath. "Danny and Lindsay are friends, sir," I say. I haven't had to use the 'sir' in a long time. It hurts. "I'm just here for support."
"Mr. Monroe," Mac cuts in, trying to diffuse the tension in the room. "Did you get a good look at the man who attacked you last night?"
His eyes drift over to Danny before he answers. "He was a young man, maybe in his thirties. He was dirty."
"Dirty?" Mac repeats with a sidelong glance at Danny as well. "How so?"
"His clothing clearly gave the impression he was of lower means," Monroe tells us.
"Really?" Danny mutters. "Just 'cause us simple folk can't afford million dollar ties, or what?"
"Danny," Lindsay hisses. Her grandfather turns red.
"Why don't you just say it, sir," Danny grounds out, shaking his hand out of Lindsay's grip. "He looked like a hood, right? Those of us who don't wear suits and ties and don't have an East Side accent are all hoods?"
"Danny, stop," Lindsay says, but Danny's on a roll. "No. I wanna hear him say it. Just say it, Mr. Monroe. Tell me that there's no way in hell that a two-bit gangster is gonna marry his precious, Fifth Ave granddaughter!"
"Flack, say something," Stella says in shock, but I'm with Danny on this one, so I wisely keep my mouth shut.
"I need air," Danny announces, before leaving the room in a huff, almost running over a curious nurse on the way out.
"Lindsay, you must be joking," Monroe looks at his granddaughter. "Surely you can't be serious."
"I'm very serious, Grandfather," she tells him. "I was hoping that the two of you could put your differences aside long enough to make it through the wedding, but I see that was merely wishful thinking." Her eyes flash. "Your behavior is unacceptable, especially in front of my friends and the chief of police, no less." She looks at Mac. "Congratulations on the promotion, by the way, Mr. Taylor." She returns her eyes to her grandfather. "Don't get your blood too much in a boil, Grandfather, though we are in a hospital, so it may be the safest place, but I am going to marry Danny, with or without your blessing!" She brushes by Mac on her way out, and I hear her shoes head straight for the elevator.
Stella looks at the three men left in the room. "I'll let you boys have at it," she says, before following Lindsay downstairs.
"Mr. Monroe," Mac says evenly, "I'll need a better description than that if you want me to find the man that did this to you."
It takes Mr. Monroe a moment to collect himself. If it'd been me I wouldn't have been near as patient as Mac has been. I heard Al Capone say once that you get a better response from someone with a kind word and a gun than you do with just a kind word. And I'm all out of kind words right now.
Apparently, Mac is too, because as soon as he gets his description (white male, thirties, dark clothes, scar on his cheek), he tells Mr. Monroe that he'll be in touch, and leaves the room. But I can't resist. "Don't you worry, Mr. Monroe, we'll keep an eye out for any and all hoods. Shouldn't take us more than a few years to track all the hoods in the city down." I tip my hat and go outside, where Mac is waiting for me. "You had to, huh," he says, as I walk past him.
I stop but don't turn around. "I'm not in a uniform, I don't answer to the mayor, and he insulted my friends. So yeah, Mac, I had to."
He raises an eyebrow. "And how did it feel?"
I glance over my shoulder. "Pretty damned good."
Mac is shaking his head, but I see him smiling. "I'm going to go put a BOLO out for our boy."
"You do that." We ride the elevator in silence. I'm sure he's thinking about Mr. Monroe, but I'm thinking about Andrew Bedford. With all the commotion of today I've completely forgotten about Bedford. I'm going to need to go back to the office and think on that one.
We get off the elevator together, and I see Stella, Danny and Lindsay, who all look considerably calmer, standing outside the doors. Stella says something that makes Danny blush and Lindsay burst out laughing. Mac buttons his coat and steps outside to talk with Stella. Apparently, Lindsay has just figured out they're a couple because I see her face light up and she gives Stella a huge hug. Then, to everyone's surprise, she hugs Mac as well. I've never seen his face that red.
I come outside. "Flack, would you mind it if I borrowed your secretary for the afternoon?" Mac asks me.
I grin. "Long as you bring her back in one piece, Chief."
He looks at Stella. "Shall we?" he asks, offering his arm. She slides her arm through his. They walk down the street together.
"They're so adorable," Lindsay gushes.
"Funny, Flack, I figured she had it bad for you, not him," Danny tells me.
"Nah, I'm too mean. Plus I'm her boss. Hard to have her takin' messages and makin' coffee if she's wrapped around me," I shrug it off. "Say Danny, Lindsay's granddaddy gave us a description of the guy who shot him last night."
"Yeah?" Danny asked. "Is it something better than, 'dirty rotten gangster'?"
Lindsay slugs him in the arm, but he's smiling. "Is it something that'll be able to help you catch the man that did this?" she asks me, all seriousness. I can tell that she doesn't approve of what he said to her fiancé, but I can also tell that she loves her grandfather.
"He's apparently got a scar on one cheek," I explain, and Danny raises an eyebrow.
"Does he, now."
"He does." I look at the two of them. "Look, we started this whole visit of yours off on the wrong foot. How about you two come by the office later tonight for dinner?" I wink. "We can order some Chinese food and talk about Danny's impending entry into the last legal form of slavery."
"Thanks a lot Flack!" Lindsay exclaims, but Danny's laughing his head off, and I can't help but laugh at the look on her face. "How about 8?" she suggests, a smile playing on her lips.
"Sounds good," I agree. "Where are the two of you off to?"
"Well, Linds has to go pick up some things down at Macy's-somethin' she ordered out in Montana but decided to wait til we were in town to get." Danny looks at her. "You don't need my help for that, do you?" he asks, almost pleading.
"Did you have other plans?" she asks him, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Well….I thought maybe me and Flack'd go see Joe."
"Joe?" I ask.
"Who's Joe?" Lindsay repeats.
"Joe is ah….he's an old friend," Danny says vaguely. "I think he might know where to find the guy that shot your grandpa."
"Danny…" Lindsay says warningly. "Don't you go gettin' mixed up in all that again. Let Mac and the police handle this."
"Baby, anybody who knows anybody who'd do somethin' like this is gonna make Mac and his boys for cops the instant they see 'em. Nobody is gonna say anything to them."
"But-"
He puts a finger on her lips. "I'm not gonna fight with you, honey," he says. "Let me try to do something right."
Lindsay sighs. I watch with interest. "Fine. But you be careful." She looks over at me. "Don't you let him do somethin' stupid!"
"Never," I tell her with a wink. She groans.