Chapter 8

Patrick Sandoval watched Justin Scott step out the back entrance to his store and begin to head towards the dumpster area at the dead end of the alley where he was waiting. It stank down here, but it was worth it. He'd been waiting for fifteen minutes. He knew Scott's routine by now. Same thing every week. Every Friday night, just after 6, the guy would take out the trash. It had been easy to scope out the best place to carry out his attack. The businesses that shared the alley all closed at 5, and no one came down here except for the owners dumping trash. Patrick didn't feel excited, or nervous. This was just something that had to be done. He'd take some satisfaction from knowing the agony he'd cause that stupid bitch, Lucy Scott. Would she cry when she found out? Kill herself, maybe? Now that would be justice. An eye for an eye. Of course, he'd rather kill Lucy Scott herself, but he wasn't going to hang around another two years for waiting for her to get out of the joint. He'd waited too long to get vengeance for his son and his ex-wife already. He bore no grudge against the young man who was drawing closer now, his head down as he lugged along two heavy trash bags. Justin Scott was just a means to an end, like Messer's wife had been.

Scott was in the dumpster area now. The one he usually went for was the one opposite the two Patrick now hid behind, in a set of four. He eased the safety off the gun, checked the silencer. Thought of his dead son. He stepped out from behind the dumpsters. Scott had just swung the last of his bags up into the other dumpster and was turning toward him.

Patrick waited, wondering what he would see on the man's face. Shock and confusion, probably, just like Lindsay Messer, in that brief glimpse he'd had as she stood, illuminated by his lights, right before she hit the hood and went into the windscreen. Neither of them had any reason to know who he was. Ollie Barnes had never even seen where the bullet that ended his sorry life came from.

Now Scott was facing him, and Patrick was already raising the gun...

He froze, and the emotions he'd expected to see on the other man's face flooded through him.

'What the...' he sputtered.

The man wasn't Scott. Same hair, same height, same build, same exact clothes, the ones he'd seen Scott in earlier today when he'd checked to make sure he was at work. But this man was not Justin Scott. And he suddenly had a gun, pointed right at Patrick's chest. What the fuck was this?

Patrick turned, and saw two men walking towards him. Both men also had guns drawn and pointed straight at him. These two he recognized. One was one of Messer's cop buddies, the other was his boss. The guy who ran the crime lab. Patrick couldn't remember his name. Both men looked coldly furious, especially Messer's boss.

Patrick raised his gun, uncertain if he'd actually use it.

'Sandoval, you do not want to give me an excuse,' the older cop said. 'Raise that gun one inch further, and three bullets will be heading your way. Personally, I'm hoping mine is the one that kills you. I will kill you, Sandoval, if you make me.',

Patrick had been threatened plenty of times in his life. But he'd never once come across anyone who truly scared him like this guy did. Most of the so called 'tough guys' he'd come up against threatened him only to get what they wanted, usually money or drugs. He'd always known they wouldn't kill him, because then they wouldn't get what they wanted, and risked their own necks if they got caught. But this cop, whose green-blue eyes were filled with a depth of icy hatred that took Patrick back more than he'd like to admit, would kill him.

'Put the gun down, Sandoval,' said the lead cop again, 'Last chance.'

Patrick did so, slowly.

'Kick it over to me,' the cop said. Patrick did so. He suddenly remembered their names. The younger one was Flack, the lead guy was Taylor.

'On your knees, hands behind your head, fingers interlocked, and remember, Patrick, I'm just waiting for an excuse.' Taylor said.

Patrick did as he was ordered again.

Taylor holstered his weapon while Flack and the cop who was the fake Justin, kept their weapons aimed at him.

It was finally over. It hadn't ended the way Patrick had been planning, but hell, two out of three wasn't bad.

Mac roughly yanked Patrick's hands down from the back of his head and cuffed him.

'On your feet, you son of a bitch.' he said, his voice full of venom.

Once Patrick was standing, Mac pushed him back against the wall. He wanted to hit the man, but knew if he started, he'd never stop. He looked at Patrick Sandoval.

'You know who I am?'

'Taylor. Messer's boss.'

'Not just Danny Messer's boss,' Mac said, 'I'm Lindsay Messer's boss too, did you know that?'

Patrick shrugged.

'Figures, if she worked in the lab.'

'I worked your son's case, Mr Sandoval, and I will say, I'm sorry for your loss. No one deserves to lose someone they love, especially a child. But any sympathy I have for you ended the night you killed my friend.'

Sandoval remained silent.

'Mac, let's get this creep to the precinct,' Don said, 'Because I for one can't wait to see him on the way to prison where he belongs.'

As Mac and Don drove to the precinct behind the squad car that held Patrick Sandoval, Mac checked his cell phone. He had a missed call from Danny's apartment timed at fifteen minutes ago. He guessed it was Danny calling to ask if they'd found Sandoval yet, and hit the 'redial' button.

The phone was answered halfway through the first ring.

'Mac, Robert Monroe here, did you get Sandoval?'

'Yes, he's on his way to the precinct now.'

'Is he with you?'

'No, in the squad car ahead of us. Why?'

'Danny's not here. I turned my back for five minutes, helping Lucy with something, and he slipped out. I think he's headed for the precinct, waiting for you guys to bring Sandoval in.'

Mac cursed. He understood Danny's need to see Sandoval brought in, but given how he'd struggled to contain his own desire to hit Patrick, he worried about what Danny might do. He knew what he himself had felt capable of when faced with the men who had threatened to kill Christine. He also worried what Sandoval's reaction to Danny might be.

'Right, thanks, Robert. You stay with Lucy, I'll take care of Danny.'

'Don't let him do something he'll regret,' begged Robert.

'I won't,' Mac promised.

He hung up and told Don what he'd learnt. Don swore. Like Mac, he knew exactly how far Danny might go when confronted with the man responsible for Lindsay's death.

As soon as Don and Mac stepped into the precinct, Patrick between them, they saw Danny. He was sat at Flack's desk in the bull pen, two other detectives from the precinct with him. The instant they stepped through the doors, Danny let out a strangled cry and launched himself up and over Don's desk. He cleared it, but then the two detectives who had been sat with him had grabbed him, holding him back. At the same time Danny went for Patrick, Patrick lunged at him, only to be yanked sharply back by Mac and Don.

'You FUCKER, you MURDERED MY WIFE!' Danny screamed as he struggled against the two detectives holding him.

'You LET MY SON DIE!' Patrick yelled back, 'Where THE FUCK where you when MY BOY lay bleeding to death in the street, huh? You LET HIM DIE! He was TEN FUCKING YEARS OLD!'

Mac stepped away from Patrick, and Jaime stepped in to take his place.

Mac said,

'Don, Jaime, get this piece of shit into an interrogation room and out of my sight.'

'Oh, gladly,' Jaime said, and she and Don half led, half dragged a still-shouting Patrick from the room. Once he was gone, all the fight seemed to drain from Danny. He simply fell in on himself. The two cops who'd been restraining him now found themselves holding him up, as he no longer seemed to be able to do so by himself.

They lowered him into Don's chair.

Mac pulled another chair over. Looking at the two detectives, he said,

'Thanks. Donahue and Leonard, right?'

'Yeah, that's us. Flack called ahead, told us to keep an eye on Messer. He gonna be okay, eventually, I mean?' asked Leonard. Mac nodded.

'Can one of you grab him a coffee, and call my partner Jo Danville, explain what happened and get her over here?'

'No problem,' said Donahue, 'I'll call the lab. Leonard, get Messer a coffee. You want one too, Taylor?'

Mac shook his head.

'No, I'm going in to talk to Sandoval in a minute, and I might be tempted to throw it in his face.'

'Wouldn't mind if you did, Taylor, 'cept it'd be a waste of half-decent coffee.' Donahue said. Donahue and Leonard turned to go, then Donahue turned back.

'I'm really sorry for your loss, Danny,' she said gently. Danny nodded dumbly. Donahue nodded to Mac. 'And yours, Mac. I know how close you crime lab guys are, and Don always says how much you care about your people over there, treat them like family as well as employees. Not all bosses are like that. She was lucky to work with you. And great job bringing that piece of cop-killing scum in.'

'Thanks, Leona,' Mac said, using her first name as she'd used his and Danny's.

Donahue followed Leonard out of the bull pen. Mac turned back to Danny.

'Danny, Jo's going to come and pick you up and take you back to Lucy, okay?'

Danny nodded, taking his glasses off and wiping at his eyes. He was shaking.

'Yeah. I really need to see Lucy. Look, I know I screwed up...'

'You didn't screw up. If it was up to me, I'd leave you in a locked interrogation room with Sandoval for as long as you wanted. But we can't do it that way.'

Danny sighed.

'Yeah. It sucks, though. I just wanted to...I want to know why. I mean, why Lindsay? Why not me, if he hates me so much? I'm the one who let Ruben out of my sight. He should have gone after me.'

Mac didn't know how to reply to that. He had no idea how to tell Danny what he and the rest of the team suspected, that Sandoval had deliberately targeted Lindsay as a way to hurt Danny worse than he ever could physically. Until Sandoval confirmed that, Mac didn't want to raise that possibility with Danny. Maybe not even then.

He reached out and rested his hand on the younger man's shoulder, the wordless contact all he could bring himself to offer.

xxx

Ten minutes later, Mac walked into the interrogation room. Patrick sat on one side of the table, staring down at it, while Don stood in the corner of the room, glaring at him. If looks could kill, Patrick would have been dead in his chair.

Mac slammed a photo down on the desk in front of him. It was Lindsay's standard personnel-file photo.

'Her name,' he ground out, his voice coldly furious, 'Is Lindsay Monroe Messer. This,' he slammed down another photo, 'Is her father, Robert Monroe. This,' he slammed down another photo, 'is her husband, Danny Messer, as you well know.' He watched Patrick's face twist in hatred as he looked at the picture of Danny. 'And this,' Mac slammed down a final photo, 'Is her five year old daughter, Lucy. Because of you, Patrick, she no longer has a mother, and she can't understand why. How do you feel about that, you son of a bitch? You feel bad because you didn't get to be a father to Ruben? Well, now, because of you, Lindsay doesn't get to be a mother to Lucy anymore.'

Patrick shrugged.

'Look, I didn't want to have to hurt this kid, or the Messer chick, either. But it had to be done.'

Mac slammed down another photo.

'This is the car you used to cold-bloodedly run down Lindsay Messer as she was crossing the street. That damage to the hood and windscreen? That happened when her body impacted with your car. She died of her injuries on the way to the hospital, and her husband and daughter never even got a chance to say goodbye.'

'Good,' Patrick spat, 'Not for the kid, I'm sorry for her, truly. She's just caught in the middle of all this. But Danny Messer? I'm glad he didn't get the chance to say goodbye. Because of him, I didn't get to say goodbye to my son. He was supposed to take care of him, but he let him out of his sight on a busy New York street. Then, after Ruben was near where a gun went off, Messer didn't even bother getting him home. He just...left him. Left him, and then my boy died alone in the street. I wanted Messer to pay. An eye for an eye. He left my kid to die in the street, so I left his wife to die in the street. I wanted him to see it. To not be able to stop it. Just like me.'

Now Don was at the table, leaning across into Sandoval's face.

'You stupid bastard, Danny couldn't do anything to stop Ruben dying. Don't you get that he would have taken that bullet for your boy if he could have? And yet somehow in your sick, twisted little head, you think it's okay to go after him and his family?'

Sandoval shrugged again.

'He didn't take that bullet, though. Ruben did. And people had to pay. Messer, Barnes, the Scott bitch.'

'Are you confessing to the murders of Oliver Barnes, Lindsay Messer, and to the attempted murder of Justin Scott, Mr Sandoval?' Don asked, putting a lot of sarcasm into the 'Mr'.

Sandoval nodded.

'Yeah. I killed Barnes and I killed Messer's wife. Would have got the Scott guy too if you guys hadn't got in the way. But never mind. I'm not gonna hold a grudge. Two out of three ain't bad.'

Mac stared at the man, and wondered fleetingly what would happen if he punched him right now.

'Don't you feel at all guilty for what you did?'

'No. I feel bad for that Messer kid not having a mom. But hey, it's not like I went after that kid, right? I'm no kid killer. I don't let kids die, unlike Detective Danny Messer.' Patrick put as much sarcasm into the word 'Detective' as Don had when referring to him as 'Mr' Sandoval.

Mac leaned across the table.

'You know what, Sandoval?'

'What?'

'You can go to hell, you son of a bitch,' Mac said. He stepped away from the table, and Don, after a final, icy glare at Patrick Sandoval, turned too.

'Officer, get him the hell out of my sight, would you, and take him where he belongs?'

'With pleasure, Detective,' the young cop replied.

Mac and Don stepped out of the interrogation room and watched Patrick Sandoval being led away.

'We did it,' Don said, sounding relieved, 'We got the son of a bitch.'

'We did,' Mac agreed.

'So now what?'

'Well, I'm going to call Danny and tell him Sandoval's on his way to prison. I was hoping you'd call Jo so she can let everyone else know. Then I was thinking we go for a beer.'

Don grinned.

'I can't think of a better idea.' he said. 'And in honour of your truly epic scary-ass-cop skills in there with that scumbag, I'm buying.'

xxxx

Okay, guys, that's the end of another chapter. I figured I'd update you with two chapters as I feel bad about leaving it so long since last updating this fic. My real life has been rather taken up with the addition to our house of a four-legged ball of fun known as Eddie - a Border Terrier/Cairn cross puppy. We got him at the start of April. He's super cute but very distracting and time consuming! Plus I've had work and stuff.

Anyway, just one more chapter to go now to wrap things up all nice and neat, and then that's it. Thanks for reading and for all the reviews. They are very encouraging and make me want to keep writing.