Disclaimer: I only own Scarlett Monroe!

Chapter 8: Blood on the Wall

Back at the lab, Scarlett tugged on her wet clothes uncomfortably. She'd gotten soaked at the crime scene and was considering taking a trip home to change.

Scarlett spotted Flack's tall figure about to get on the elevator, and she called out after him, "Donnie, wait up!" She jogged the last few steps, her wet shoes squeaking on the floor, and made it into the elevator, slightly out of breath. "Where are you headed now?" she asked him.

"Well, I was about to head out for a cup of coffee while I wait for a lead to turn up. And now I'm suspecting that a certain pretty lady needs my help?" he said with his signature charming smile.

She smiled at him, feeling momentarily relaxed by his presence. "I need a ride to my apartment. I have to get out of these clothes and then head back to the lab to pick up another shift. Mac needs all the help he can get on this case. But first, we need to see Hawkes down in autopsy because I need his report on today's Jane Doe."

"And you'd like my help in getting out of your clothes?" Flack asked, winking at Scarlett.

She laughed, and playfully slapped Flack's arm. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"

Flack pretended to think about her question, even though they both knew what the answer was.

"Anyway, perv, I need a ride by my apartment."

"You got it," he said with a wink, letting Scarlett out of the elevator first.

"Hawkes," Scarlett said as she walked into autopsy with Flack, "Please tell me you've got that report ready for me."

Hawkes looked up from the body, his warm brown eyes smiling up at Flack and Scarlett before he said, "You sound like Mac. I'm good, but I'm not that good."

Scarlett eyed the body for a moment before looking back at Hawkes. She wrapped her arms around herself and said apologetically, "I'm sorry Hawkes. It's urgent. Mac wants confirmation on his serial killer theory and I'm getting a little antsy."

"I'll send my report up to Mac when I'm done, but it looks like he was right."

"What'd you find?" Flack asked, his tone serious.

"Both Jane Doe's have the same types of perimortem bruising on their wrists and ankles as well as heavy bruising all over their arms and legs. They really took a beating. It appears that their wrists and ankles were bound by a thick rope," he said pointing towards Jane Doe's wrists and ankles before continuing, "I sent some fibers up to trace which may lead to a specific manufacturer. The cause of death on both was blunt force trauma with a heavy object, something like a wrench or a bat. There was also an oily substance on the head wound which I swabbed."

Scarlett nodded, "Thanks, Hawkes. I'll be back in a little while to see if you find anything more. Flack's taking me home to change," she said, gesturing toward her wet clothing.

"Alright, I'll keep you updated," Hawkes said, going back to his examination.

Scarlett was silent during their walk to the parking garage where Flack had left his car. He opened the door for her and she got in, slumping against the seat and shutting her eyes for a moment.

"You need to relax kid," Flack said to her as he sat into the driver's seat. His blue eyes gentle and concerned. "Mac and Hawkes have got everything under control." He reached over and gently squeezed her leg. There wasn't anything sexual about the gesture but she still felt goosebumps creep up along her body.

"I know, Donnie. I'm just worried. And tired. I've had a long day."

"You shouldn't be tired, you were up snoring all night," he said with wink, as he put his car into reverse and started pulling out of the garage.

Scarlett managed to smile. "You jerk. I happen to know for a fact that I do not snore. Did you stay up all night watching me, huh? I'm gonna think twice about ever letting you sleep over again you creep."

They kept this playful banter up all the way to Scarlett's apartment. "I'll be right out," she said, getting out of the car and jogging over to the entrance of the lobby. The rain had finally let up and she couldn't wait to change and dive right back into her work. She took the stairs, two at a time, and froze when she reached her floor and got a glimpse of her doorway. There was blood smeared all over the door, in messy letters spelling out a message.

Scarlett's heart began to race as she made a grab for the handle before stopping herself. No, Lindsay's okay she's still at the lab, she thought to herself. She considered opening up the door and seeing if there was any damage to the inside of her apartment. She stopped herself when she realized she'd left her piece in Flack's car.

"Dammit," she muttered, her hands trembling. The initial shock had worn off and she was trying her best not to cry. She turned and ran back down the stairs towards the one person who she knew would keep her safe.