As always the streets of New York were packed with people jostling each other as they headed to and fro. Normally the atmosphere was lively due to the amount of people who congregated upon the streets at any time in the city, but since news broke of the Taunter's return, the atmosphere was uneasy.

Many women now travelled with a companion and shops across the city had sold out of self defence kits, bought by women who feared that they would be the Taunter's next victim. As had happened the last time, anger had quickly been directed towards the NYPD who appeared to be failing to do anything to stop the killings, an accusation which Chief Sinclair had strenuously denied on national television. Men and women alike were in fear- men for the safety of their female love ones and women were terrified for themselves and their loved ones too.

The atmosphere was claustrophobic and it felt as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for the Taunter to strike again. Terror once again stalked the streets of New York.

Despite her expert knowledge of the Taunter's methods, Stella refused to be cowed by such fear and still chose to walk alone through the city, despite Kate's invitation to accompany her. Even though the Taunter was a brutal serial killer, Stella knew that when it came down to it he was the same type of man as Frankie had been- a man who derived pleasure from inflicting pain on women and Stella was not about to let this maniac win. Even in the face of such danger, Stella would remain stubborn to the end.

Despite this vow of strength, Stella could not but help look over her shoulders every so often as she had the uneasy feeling as though she was being watched. However, thinking rationally, Stella knew that it was just a result of her imagination due to the Taunter's return. That, or various people in the crowd's attention placing itself momentarily on her retreating figure. The nightmares she had at night had no place in the stark daylight hours and so she pushed the uneasy feeling to the back of the mind as best as she could. However, the uneasiness did not dissipate until she was safely in the coffee bar, the hustle of the regulars enough to take Stella's mind off of such matters and instead onto the trivial gossip of the day.

As the hours ticked by, the CSIs found themselves falling deeper and deeper into a depression. They had combed over every bit of evidence and yet still no leads had been uncovered. Mac had been right about the Taunter; he was always one step away ahead. Jo, using her FBI profiling training had tried to get into the mind of the Taunter by using his victims.

Since the first victim, Sandra Harrison was discovered, the method of killing had only evolved slightly in the aspect that where there had been three messy stab wounds before Sandra succumbed to her wounds, in the latest victims, a single stab wound to the heart was the cause of death, before exsanguinations from the taunts carved into the women's backs proved fatal. Even on closer inspection there appeared to be still no link in victimology other than the common denominator of all the victims being female. It was clear, however, that their killer held a great amount of rage towards women in general and not directed towards one in particular. What had Jo puzzled were the dump sites. It was obvious by lack of blood and the fact that the dump sites were so very public that they were not the primary scene. The Taunter had somewhere safe where he played with his victims.

With the exception of Sandra Harrison's murder, where the woman had been dumped outside the restaurant she had worked, all the other previous victims had been dumped in a random public places such as parks, the subway and well-used Taunter would have had to have some cover, particularly during the later killings when there was such a media frenzy in order to deposit the bodies in such public places. Whatever this cover was, it blended in perfectly in the crowds of New York and that, Jo knew, would make it near impossible to find him by surveillance alone.

Flack and Angell were both also turning up blanks. The partners had been working for hours without a break, investigating the current alibis of the original suspects as well as re-interviewing witnesses and the families of the original victims. It was harrowing work; particularly hearing from the victims' families. It was often easy to forget that behind every news headline was the real, human cost of such tragedies. There was nothing glamorous about murder, no matter how the media tried to portray it. Days like these, cases like these got to Flack but he was lucky that he had Jess by his side. Having her love was enough to make him face any challenge and he was struck by the similarities between their relationship and that between Mac and Stella. Only he still had his partner but Mac was without his.

Even after all this time it was still hard to believe that Stella had turned her back on Mac and had left everything she knew in New York behind, to start a new life in New Orleans. And in all the months since, they had heard nothing. Flack couldn't help but feel angry towards Stella for abandoning them without any explanation whatsoever. But at the end of the day, what was done was done and they had a serial killer to catch.

It was coming up to eight at night when a knock at his office door broke Mac out of his wandering thoughts and he looked up to see Hawkes standing before him.

'Got a problem?'

'Mac, I know time's against us and we're under a lot of pressure but the team- we are exhausted. We could do with a rest. It would help us be able to focus more on the case. Lindsay was about to fall asleep earlier, and the lab techs are really feeling its toll too. I'm not asking for us to have a long time off- just a few hours so that we get enough rest and then we'll be able to look over the evidence with fresh eyes.'

Mac was silent for a moment, digesting what the doctor was saying, and realising it was true. They had been working hard and his team desperately needed a rest; there was no point in them collapsing from exhaustion. A rested pair of eyes would prove wonders in this case.

He nodded, 'Take some time. I don't want to have to see you here before at least eight in the morning alright?'

'Thanks Mac.' Hawkes grinned tiredly and he began to made his way to the door but stopped on reaching it, turning back to his boss and mentor with a concerned expression. 'You should get rest too Mac. It would help.'

'Thanks Doctor, I'll work on it.' Mac smiled slightly as he watched the younger man disappear down the corridor.

But how could he rest? Ever since Stella left, he had been unable to sleep for extended periods of time as he was accosted with memories of her. Memories of their cases together, of coffee breaks and of drinks down at Sullivan's with the team. Happier memories, memories of the time before Mac had felt such betrayal- and guilt. Memories of when their partnership had been stronger than any other. If it hadn't been for Stella, then Mac would have been lost in grief and loneliness following the devastation of 9/11 but with her by his side he had been rebuilt. And then it had all gone so badly wrong. He had known he had been distancing himself from her, he had sensed her hurt but he knew that it would be better in the long run.

He had allowed himself to become too close to Stella; he knew she needed her own life; needed her own space; not just looking after her damaged partner. But somewhere he had pushed too much and he had lost her. Her comments still wounded him and still his anger flared as he thought about Claire being dragged into what was their argument. It had come as a shock for Stella to mention Claire- during the argument he had not thought once about her, the beautiful woman in front of him was proving too much of a destruction and as a result he had acted stronger than intended. He would never forgive himself for what had happened next. Clamping down on such painful thoughts, Mac grabbed his jacket and headed out of the office, desperate for a breath of fresh air and a coffee.

The hot liquid was a welcome relief for Mac as he greedily swallowed it down his parched throat. He stood outside the crime lab, enjoying the beverage and allowing himself briefly to forget all current worries. Although he could not sleep, the break from the lab he had awarded himself was already doing a great deal of good in renewing his brain functioning. As he stood, enjoying the night air and the sounds of the city, a sudden chill washed over him. Marine-trained instincts alerted him to the fact that he was being watched.

Careful not to draw attention to the fact he was aware of this, Mac casually scanned his surroundings. It was still somewhat busy in the streets as after all, New York never slept and there were couples and office workers milling around, heading in every direction possible. There appeared to be nobody looking his way but yet the hairs on the back of his neck still tingled. Growing increasingly uncomfortable, Mac finished his coffee and discarded the container in the trash before making his way back to the lab.

All the while he was under surveillance by his arch-nemesis.

Mac returned to his desk to find a missed call from Gil Grissom of the Vegas lab and sensing that it was important, he immediately returned the call.

After swapping pleasantries, the two CSIs got straight to the point of the phone call, Grissom as always remaining absolutely professional. 'I phoned to let you know that we may have a development in your serial killer case.'

'In Vegas? What sort of lead?'

'LVPD uncovered a mass grave out in the desert. All the victims are female, different races, socio-economic groups. All killed approximately fifteen years ago. There doesn't seem to be any connection between the victims. But what drew my attention was the way they were all killed- the MO was very distinctive.' Grissom sighed.

'How so?' Mac questioned, frowning at this developing information.

'The wound pattern was identical to those found on the Taunter's victims.'

'Where there taunts on the body?' Mac asked, feeling adrenaline increase through his body.

'No. That was what interested me. We've been processing the evidence and there are several other discrepancies that seem to suggest that this isn't the same killer.'

'Wait so you're saying the Taunter didn't kill these victims?' Mac asked in shock and confusion.

'Precisely. Judging by our evidence and by the dates of the bodies, we think that the Taunter may in fact be copying our killer.'

'That's...that's interesting. That will totally change our investigation. If the Taunter really is copying another in MO then that means the two killers are somehow connected. I'll have my people start looking into this.'

'Are you any closer to discovering why the ten-year hiatus?' Grissom asked.

'No, but Jo reckons that he may have suffered some sort of accident.' Mac elaborated further. 'All the dumpsites were very public and all had access for vehicles. We found some shoeprints around Amanda Jones' body and we think they belong to our killer. We analysed them and found that the weight was slightly off on one, as though he has a limp or an injury of some sort. An accident would explain the long absence and why there doesn't appear to be any killings that match his MO during his period.'

'That's interesting.' Grissom mused. 'Well if you need any more help, call us and we'll let you know if we find any more evidence.'

'Will do. Thanks for all the help Gil.'

'Not a problem. You know where I am.'

'Thanks. I'm going to phone New Orleans crime lab and speak to Detective Bonasera to see if she can return to New York to help solve this business.' Mac admitted to Gil, the idea having finally won him over after the pleadings of his team had finally penetrated his otherwise deaf ears.

Grissom's silence following Mac's words alerted him to the fact that something was terribly wrong. Finally Grissom spoke, his words shocking Mac to the very core. 'I don't know how to tell you this, and I'm surprised nobody told you but Stella...Stella turned down the job offer at New Orleans. She never went to New Orleans.'