Train rides have one really good purpose, they inspire you to write.
One more chapter after this.
Flack was quickly reaching the end of his tether.
The young woman might well be a victim but if she didn't stop the screaming some time soon…
Reaching out, he placed his hands on either side of her shoulders and pulled her round to face him head on. He spoke to her, loud enough that she paid attention to him but with a calming, safe tone so that she might calm down herself.
She fought him off at first, balling her hands into fists and attacking any part of him that she could reach. Hawkes took a step towards him but Flack shook his head and the CSI hung back. The woman continued to go at him, screaming her head off, before her tears and the exhaustion that accompanied an attack caught up with her and the next moment she was clutching at his shirt and sobbing her heart out on his chest.
It was only then that she allowed the paramedics to lead her away into the back of a waiting ambulance and off to hospital to be treated for shock and any other injuries she had received.
"You certainly have a way with women," Hawkes said as they stood side by side watching the ambulance drive away.
"Its my sparkling personality," Don told him with a smile, turning to head back to the crime scene.
"Where do you think you're going?" Hawkes asked, grabbing a hold of his arm and halting his progress.
"Back to the scene, I've still got a couple of statements to take."
"Get someone else to do it, or just wait till I've got your shirt." Hawkes held out a large brown evidence bag with a smile.
"My shirt?" Flack echoed.
"The way she was clinging to you," Hawkes said, nodding his head in the direction the ambulance had just left in with their victim, "She's bound to have left something behind. It could be just the piece of evidence we need to put this case to rest."
"You want me to take my shirt off?"
"If you wouldn't mind."
Flack glared at him for a moment before he began to unbutton his suit jacket. "I don't suppose you have a spare shirt or t-shirt I could borrow?"
"Sorry," the CSI said.
"Yeah, right," Flack muttered as he handed Hawkes his jacket and began to work on his shirt buttons.
"This a private peepshow or can anyone join in?" Stella asked as she sauntered over to them.
"Flack got overly friendly with the vic." Hawkes explained. "I'm getting his shirt just in case she left anything on it."
Stella turned to Flack, "You want me to get some music playing?"
"Don't you have something else you have to do?" he asked, removing his cufflinks and pulling the shirt from his body.
"Nope," she answered with a short shake of her head.
"Just my luck," Flack mumbled, handing his shirt to Hawkes who took a quick look at it. Something must have caught his attention as he brought the shirt closer to his face.
"What is it?" Stella asked, looking over his shoulder.
"Blood," Hawkes pointed.
"On the back of his shirt?"
Flack watched the two CSI's as they scrutinised his shirt while he stood in the chilly night with nothing covering his top half having forgotten to put on his usual undershirt in the hurray that had ensued after Lindsay and him had been finished. He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to retain some body heat.
"Don," Stella said, looking up at him, "Go and turn around."
With a clearly annoyed expression, he held out his arms and turned.
"Meow," Hawkes said as he took in the sight of Flacks back. What where clearly scratches made by a female hand, littered his back. Several had broken the skin and dried blood speckled the Detectives back and shoulders.
"What?" Flack asked, turning to face them again. Hawkes took a step round him and took another look at his back.
"You weren't kidding," he said.
"huh?" Flack to tried to look over his shoulder, catching a tiny glimpse of what Hawkes and Stella had a plain view of. "Ah," he said.
"Ah?" Hawkes repeated with an amused smile.
Flack merely held out a hand for his jacket which Hawkes returned to him.
Stella, surprisingly, hadn't said anything but stood just where she was. A thoughtful expression crossed her face and she looked as she often did in the lab, as though she had just come across a piece of evidence that brought the whole case together and slammed the door shut on a murderer or rapist.
Flack saw it in her eyes the moment everything clicked into place for Stella. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened but no words came out. Next came the shaking of the head as she backed away from him, quickly looking back down the alley and then back at him.
"Stell," he began, taking a step towards her. Stella bolted back down the alley as fast as her shoes would allow.
"I think you're busted man," Hawkes said beside him. Flack began to nod, agreeing with him, but what Hawkes said finally sunk in and he turned to the former ME a question on his face.
"What?" he asked. Surely Hawkes didnt know anything. Did he?
Hawkes merely smiled and tapped him on the back before taking the evidence he had collected to one of the waiting SUV's, leaving Flack standing where he was wondering what the hell had just happened.