A/N : Thank you, faithful few, for the reviews ... and to those leaving me alerts! And to the lurkers ;-) So having done family, fluff and crime, it's now time for a little action teaser, a little H/C and a little TLC to keep you going over the weekend ... back soon.

Chapter 4

There were times when, as a crime scene investigator, snow could be your best friend. Mac Taylor was not of that opinion at present. The wind had picked up and the icy snow blew against his face, stinging his cheeks. He swept his borrowed flash-light back and forth across the snow under the window of the room where Sandra Beale's body had been found. Light from the window lit the area where he stood with a pale yellow glow. There were plenty of footprints and an obvious indentation in the snow where someone had landed but the falling snow and the wind had already partially obscured the marks. He wasn't going to get anything useful. He glanced up at the window. Normally it would have been a hell of a drop but with the snow being piled up beneath it where the ploughs had cleared the road, it was barely twelve feet. Mac looked around. He had glimpsed the young deputy Bruce standing in front of the house opposite the entrance of the B&B but where he now stood was quiet and dark. As he directed the flash-light in a wide arc across the buildings opposite he got the brief impression of a reflection. Mac moved the flash-light back to the spot where he thought he had seen it. Nothing but then his ears caught the sound of something banging. He took off in the direction of the sound.

As he slithered through the snow that covered the ice-covered road he noticed the 'For Sale' sign on the building opposite. It had obviously once been a dairy. He pushed at the large wooden gate and was surprised to see that it gave way despite the chain and padlock. Although it was a tight squeeze he was able to get through. He found himself in a covered archway that led to a small courtyard with dark windows on three sides. On the other side of the courtyard was a wooden door with peeling paint. Mac shone his flash-light around. The light reflected eerily off the darkened windows. All was silent but then he noticed the footprints in the snow. They were numerous and overlapping near the gate where he stood but a single track led across the courtyard towards the door. Curious Mac followed them. Cautiously he reached out for the handle. It turned. As he pushed it open he was surprised to find it yanked out of his hand. He raised his arm defensively as a mass flew at him. He tumbled backwards, the flash-light dropping to the floor. The breath left his lungs as a huge body flattened him. Mac immediately swung his right arm in an arc and felt pain flare in his knuckles as his fist connected with his assailant. He heard a grunt and the weight was lifted. Mac rolled away and tried to scramble to his feet. Just as he turned he saw a flash of metal as his attacker swung a knife towards him. Mac was quick and jumped out of the way as the blade swung catching him only on his forearm. He hissed in pain at the burning sensation but ignored it. He dove for where he thought the man's arm should be. Lowering his shoulder he put all his weight behind it and rammed his shoulder into the man's centre. The man staggered backwards with a grunt until he was up against the wall. Mac slammed his assailant's arm against the wall in the hope of getting him to drop the knife. They struggled for a moment before the man pushed off the wall sending Mac staggering backwards. A wild swing caught Mac on the jaw throwing him against the door which swung inwards. With nothing to stop the momentum Mac flew backwards through the opening and landed heavily, his head banging against something hard and metallic. The resulting crash almost deafened him as what seemed like a thousand metal objects crashed to the ground.

After what seemed like an eternity the ringing stopped and the only sound Mac could hear was the sound of his own breathing. He tried to move but something cold, heavy and metallic pinned him to the ground. His ears picked up the sound of his name being called. He tried to call out but the pressure on his chest seemed too much. It was as though he was imprisoned against the cold stone floor. He couldn't lift his arms to push the bars away. Panic flooded through him.

"Mac?" He could hear Stella shouting. "Where are you?" He wanted to call out to warn her. He was suddenly blinded by light.

"Over here." Mac recognized Sam's voice. He could hear the sounds of several people entering the room but he was unable to move. After some effort and more deafening clanking the weight was suddenly lifted from his chest and he could breathe more easily. He felt hands lift him.

"Mac! Oh my God! Are you all right?" Stella's face into view. "You're bleeding. What happened?"

"Did you get him?" Mac stammered as he blinked trying to focus on Stella's face. He raised his hand to his eye and felt the warm stickiness there. Several hands lifted him from the ground.

"What? Who?" Stella looked around. "I didn't see anyone. Bruce saw you come in here and then we heard the crash. What happened?" Mac staggered a little and was grateful to whoever was holding his elbow. They helped him into the courtyard which was momentarily illuminated by the moon shining through a break in the clouds. Mac took a few moments to take stock. Stella was to his left while Sam held his right elbow. Bruce was looking on horrified seeing the bloody gash just above Mac's right eye and blood dripping from his left hand into the white snow.

"There was someone hiding in there." Mac gestured towards the room he had just left. "He had a knife." Mac looked at each of them but they all shook their heads. They hadn't seen anyone.

"Come on. Let's get you back to Lori's." Sam looked concerned as Mac staggered a little. Before taking a step he turned back to look through the door to the room beyond. He could just make out a pile of metal tubing. As he peered more closely Sam explained. "Metal barriers for the summer road race and big events. We use the old dairy as temporary storage when they're not in use." Mac winced as he realized that more than a dozen of them had fallen on top of him.

Ten minutes later, feeling battered and bruised Mac sat in Lori's kitchen with his arm laid on top of a blood-soaked towel on her kitchen table. Sid was shaking his head."You really need stitches."

"I'll be fine Sid. Just do what you can." Mac made the mistake of glancing at Stella who along with Lori was standing glaring at him.

"Is your job always like this?" Lori asked horrified as she watched Sid demonstrate a whole new use for a roll of duct tape.

"Pretty much." answered Stella matter-of-factly as she passed Sid another small strip.

"We do have a small medical facility here. There's a doctor we can call in." Lori suggested not sure that a man who regularly cut up dead bodies should be administering to a live one although she had to admit the duct tape seemed to be doing the trick.

"I'll be fine." Mac tried to assure her trying not to wince as Sid cleaned the wound with disinfectant. Lori was evidently of the same mind as Stella as they both gave him another disapproving glare. Mac noticed that Sam was the only one who looked the slightest bit sympathetic. Truth be told Sam was just impressed and he decided that Mac Taylor must be one tough sonofabitch. Mac shifted uncomfortably at the attention he was receiving and decided to change the subject. "Any sign of Sandra's friend, Emily Carter?"

Lori look worried. She glanced the clock on the wall. 1:15am "No. I would have thought she should be back by now. I can't imagine what's happened to her. I do hope she's all right."

Sid finished wrapping Mac's forearm. "Okay, you'll do. I suggest we call it a night. You could do with some rest. We're going to take Sandra's body to the local medical centre. I'll do a preliminary investigation there tomorrow morning before we send it down to county once the snow ploughs have been out. There's nothing more we can do here tonight."

Mac nodded. Bruce hadn't gotten anything from the neighbours other than abuse from being woken up in the middle of the night. His assailant had disappeared and the snow was falling heavier than ever. His head hurt and his arm was sore, and at that moment he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed. Stella was obviously of the same opinion as she held out his jacket although judging by the look on her face Mac wouldn't be surprised to find himself sleeping on the couch!