Chapter 9

Day 5/6

Sheldon hefted the camera; its weight was uncharacteristically heavy today. He placed the bag that held his equipment on the chair that stood out of the way against the far wall as he contemplated what he was about to do next.

It bothered him that Mac wasn't conscious to give his consent to what he was about to do now. It wasn't the first time that he'd photographed a victim in the hospital and Mac certainly wouldn't be the last. Yet still…

He sighed. Looked at the nurse that stood quietly by the bed. He knew her. She had been trained to work with victims. To get those that were conscious and still very much traumatised, to relax as they took evidence and photographs – which could be invasive all by itself. Dealing with someone unconscious that was still hooked up to medical equipment and leads and IVs took another skill as the limp body was manoeuvred carefully so that the necessary proof could be gathered.

They hadn't cleaned Mac yet. His hair still held small twigs of his tumble down the ravine and it's there that Sheldon started as he placed the paper carefully underneath Mac's head. He is careful of the intubation tube that is connected to the ventilator, helping Mac breathe for now as he starts by brushing Mac's hair. Soil and debris shifted onto the evidence sheet, colouring the paper with dark brown blots. When he was done, he took up the camera and then took careful photos of Mac's head at different angles. The bruises were a smorgasbord of blue, yellow and black. His left eye was swollen, almost shut, the swelling distorting his face. Three stitches created a row along his brow, caked with a little dried blood around the edges of the thread.

Finally done, he placed the camera back on the chair as he folded up the sheet carefully while the nurse rearranged Mac's head on the pillow, ensuring his tube was not tangled anywhere and that his breathing was comfortable.

Mac didn't have a gown on. The yellow dye of the iodine they had used as they operated on him was still visible, a small stain that trailed around the dressing placed over the now stitched entry wound. It was high on Mac's left pectoral muscle, almost directly underneath the midline of his clavicle.

Whoever it was that had taken the shot, had been sloppy. The bullet had entered at a slight downward angle, glancing off a rib and had passed through, nicking the lung as it exited at the back just underneath the scapula. The biggest mess had been fixing the torn muscles at the back and stitching Mac back together.

The lung injury, although significant, was manageable and would take time to heal. Until then, Mac would be short of breath and fatigue easily. The danger of pneumonia would be high for the next couple of days as was the chance of sepsis. The wound on his back was already infected by the time they found him.

For now, Mac was on strong antibiotics while they waited for the results to verify if they needed to move off the broad-spectrum antibiotics to a specific variant.

Sheldon took photos of Mac's torso. He placed a measuring ruler against the boot print on his stomach that was coloured in black. It was at least three days old, judging by the bruise. From there, he moved and made sure to photograph Mac's wrists, which were still swollen from the restraints that had obviously been too tight. The area was still slightly weepy even though it had been cleaned, his hands resting on thick pads, waiting for him to finish before they'll bandage them, as the wounds, although looking serious, were actually very minor. The biggest concern was the damage to his hands they won't see until Mac is awake. Prolonged ligature could lead to nerve damage.

He takes Mac's hand and turns his wrist, careful as he took two more photos. There were no signs of white or blue on his fingertips and his hand was warm, which was a good thing. Sheldon prayed that all of those were indicative of hands that wouldn't be crippled by something obnoxious as too tight handcuffs.

Finally, when he was done, they moved the light blanket that was placed over Mac's hips and legs, unfurling it from his feet so that Mac still retained some privacy. There were a few bruises on Mac's shins and a partial boot shaped one on his left thigh. It was swollen and looked painful and Sheldon grimaced at the site.

He stepped back as two nurses carefully turned Mac so that he could photograph his back. He did a quick investigation while Mac was rolled over, lifting the blanket briefly and noting the lack of bruises on Mac's backside.

He was grateful when there was no indication that anything untoward had happened. There had been too many of those he had to deal with in this setting.

Finally done, he nodded at the nurse. They rolled Mac back, rearranging his limbs so that he was comfortable, and then took readings and wrote them down on his chart.

The doctors were cautiously optimistic. He had a fever but it wasn't uncomfortably high and his sats looked good. He was still sedated as they wanted to keep him comfortable for the next few hours while they waited for the cultures to come back. Hopefully if all goes as planned, Mac would be off the ventilator by the end of the week, allowing his body the much-needed rest to heal while he slept.

He was in the elevator, going down when he tiredly leaned back against the wall.

Mac had clearly done his best but his captors hadn't been kind either. It wasn't the worst he'd seen but still…it was harrowing enough because he knew Mac.

When he got back to the lab and logged the evidence in, he found Danny and Lindsay already in the lab.

"Hey, how's Mac?" Lindsay asked as she noticed him entering.

"They're cautiously optimistic. They'll start to wean him off the sedative in a few hours. They're waiting on the cultures, just to see what they're dealing with."

Lindsay nodded. "Okay."

"Found anything?" He asked as he loaded the photos.

Danny indicated the torn and cut shirt that was laid out on the evidence table along with a bloody blue T-Shirt and blanket covered in twigs, soil and leaves. The rest of Mac's clothes that were gathered from the hospital still sat in the evidence box off to the side, waiting to be investigated next.

"There's evidence that he'd been in the apartment on his shirt. Dust particles match up. I also found four hair samples. One looks like cat hair – ginger by the looks of it. Two dark hairs and a lighter one."

"I don't remember there being evidence of a cat at the apartment."

"Nah…there wasn't any. Lindsay and I processed it. It must've come from the car. Of one of the paramedics when they worked on him."

"Okay. I'll follow up with them if you want?"

"Uh, yeah sure. Thanks."

"There's this as well…" Danny said as he moved away from the microscope he had been sitting in front of. Sheldon moved across, leaning over and adjusting the setting as he peered through the lens.

He frowned. It was definitely fibres of some sort. Brown in colour and it looked artificial.

"Carpet?" He asked as he leaned back.

"No. The weave is to think about that. I checked."

"Hey…"

"Ok…Lindsay checked." Danny said sheepishly. Sheldon grinned at the pair.

"Well, good luck."

He turned back to his own station, sorting the photos and adding notes to some of them. He noted the shoe size and then went into their database they held of soles as he compared the print to different makes.

It took him an hour before he found the make and was relatively certain that he had the right one. He made more notes, adding the information from the database to the photo catalogue. Behind him, Danny and Lindsay continued to sort through Mac's clothes, careful as they worked through the physical evidence.

They took a break as the sun rose over New York. It wasn't often that Sheldon had overnighters like this anymore. But for Mac, it hadn't even been a question. It just was and he tiredly ran a hand through the scruff of his jaw as he turned towards the window, a coffee in hand.

Stella joins him and he is aware of her next to him, a warm presence even as Danny snores on the couch, Lindsay in his arms – fast asleep. They've all done well, he thinks. Getting Mac back alive even if Joe and Derrick were still in the wind. He had enough confidence in their abilities to know that they would catch them. That the pair wasn't going to escape for what they'd done.

"I'll be going to the hospital around 8 to interview Peter." Stella says in the silence. He turns to her, noticing the circles under her eyes and the fatigue that was pulling her mouth into a tired smile. Brown eyes met him with a knowing look he understood well. He glances back at where the pair were sleeping, Danny's arm tightening around Lindsay as he held her in his sleep.

"You want me to come with you?"

"I'm going to take Flack with me. JJ's still in the wind. His mother returned home early in the morning, strung out and barely making sense. Apparently, she found out about the missing money."

He raises an eyebrow at that. "Didn't Danny give JJ some cash?"

Stella shrugs her shoulders and grimaces. "You know how it is. Enough cash like that…"

"Any indication he's actually packed a bag?" Sheldon asks.

"Maybe…I don't know." She sighs, hand rubbing against her brow. A familiar gesture he knew all too well. "Suffice it to say, if he's on the street…"

"Yeah…" He downs the last dregs of his coffee. The taste was bitter and strong, a surge of caffeine that helped to push the last spurt of fatigue back down. "I can have a look at a few shelters. See if he's been around?"

Stella takes a minute before she nods in agreement. Sheldon takes her empty cup from her hand and then after a last look at his sleeping colleagues, he makes his way to the kitchen and then downstairs to his locker.

It was time to go find a boy who is lost in more ways than one.

Flack met Stella at the hospital in the front foyer. He must've gotten some sleep as he looked refreshed. Better than what Stella felt at the moment, to be honest. She managed to grab a few hours last night after sorting out the logistical nightmare that was New Jersey politics. At least it meant that they could handle the evidence and keep everything in house. At least some logic prevailed when she used all the charm she had on their commissioner, to get him to see the value in their team. She hated that she had to do it this way but for Mac she was willing.

She and Flack take the elevator up to the third floor and then are directed into a small meeting room by one of the nurses. It was clearly used and the nurse apologetically grabbed a few dirty cups that sat on the small conference table. She sat up the camera silently as Flack disappeared and then reappeared with water and glasses.

It was promptly at 8 when a soft knock came on the door. Peter, accompanied by his mother, entered the room shyly. She could see the family resemblance almost immediately. Peter looked better. More aware of his surroundings.

"Hello, I'm Detective Bonasera with the New York Crime lab and this is Detective Flack with the New York Police. Peter, I just want to start by saying that you're not in trouble. You did very well in finding my friend."

Peter nods, glancing between them as he shifts in his chair. His mom smiles and Stella can see how proud she is of her boy, even if her face is tired looking and a sadness hangs off her in droves. The dad…right.

"How's your dad doing?" She asks as she offers water.

"He's holding on." It was the mom who answered. Her voice had a lilting quality to it, her accent coming across strong. Stella could see the islands in her words. The early mornings of watching the fishing boats go off. Of families and sun and sea…

She shakes her head, giving Peter's mom a quick smile.

"I told Peter there'd be a reward for those that found Mac."

It was a partial truth but Stella was determined to fight for this family. For what Peter had brought back to them with his selfless act.

"It's not necessary…"

Stella holds up a hand and then on impulse reaches across and grasping her hand, she says, "Please…let us do this. Mac…" She blinks away tears, not afraid to show them now. "He's important to this city. To a lot of people."

She nods and Stella lets go, leaning back and glancing at Flack, who is content to let her lead. He gives her a small nod at her unspoken question.

"Is he going to be okay?"

She blinked. And then focus. The voice was still the same as that day he phoned her. But it was soft with an undercurrent of strength that was hard to define. A maturing of his voice from boy to man.

She nods at his question. "He will be. Just like your dad, it's going to take a bit of time."

Peter fiddles with his fingers around the glass as his mother pats him on the shoulder. "Ka pai, my boy." She says with a smile. "You did good." She pauses, waits but it seems Peter had no more other questions.

"We're going to be recording this, for court records. You can have a lawyer present if you want but this is an interview to go over what you saw and heard, Peter. Please don't leave anything out. It might help us catch the men who did this, okay."

A small nod again. Stella switches on the camera, making sure that it captures the table and everyone before she sits down again. They go over the last five days. About what Peter and JJ saw and when Mac had given him her phone number. She spends time on that part, using her best to try and coax out more detail as the story unfolds.

They had a blurry photo of Joe and the driver's licence of Derrick, and Peter pointed them both out. Then he pointed to Joe.

"That man…he is the one that took Mac to the forest. I heard him."

She frowns. "What do you mean, you heard him? Did you see him, Peter?"

"Yeah. He was looking for a key. He was talking to someone else on the phone. He made marks on the trees. I followed them…"

"Did he see you?"

Peter shook his head. "I was hiding. He was meeting the other man at Grand Central."

Flack got up, his phone in hand. "I'll call it in." He said quietly as he left the office, closing the door softly behind him. Something Peter said stuck with her.

"You said you followed the marks?"

Peter nods. "Uh…yeah. Like crosses."

Stella couldn't remember Danny having mentioned anything significant like that. If Joe marked spots…what else was out there in the woods. Or here in New York. And why hadn't he left yet?

She thanked Peter and his mom for their time as they finished up the interview. Peter had drawn the mark for her on a page and she took a photo before sending it off. She weighed her phone and then made a decision.

"Hey, Danny."

He sounded like he'd just woken up and she could hear the yawn he tried to suppress.

"I send you an image of a mark that Joe had drawn on the trees."

"What?"

She gives him a minute, waiting patiently. Flack returns, mouths that he's got units on the way to the station when he sees that she's on the phone.

"Uh…yeah. Sorry. I didn't notice this." Danny finally says. He sounds contrite. Like he'd made a mistake.

"Okay. It was lower down on the trees. Joe used it to find his way to the ravine. Listen, can you coordinate with Dave and get the park services to help you back there. If he used it more than once…who knows. There might be some more evidence there?"

"Okay. What about New Jersey jurisdiction?"

"I'll sort it out for additional protection. Also, tell Lindsay to have another look at the evidence from the apartment and the bank. Joe was looking for a key. Not sure why yet. He's still in New York for some reason."

She hung up and holding up a finger, she dials Adam.

"Hey, do you still have that friend at Grand Central that works in security?"

Adam acknowledges her question, a breathy yes and she can hear the frown in his answer.

"Look, I'll sort a warrant but I have it on good authority that he's been there at least in the last day. How long is it going to take you to go through the footage?"

She listens as he guesstimates, aware how insecure Adam is at times. He was brilliant but not always aware just how much.

"Okay, can you get a start. If we can catch the bastards somewhere on the footage, we might get lucky."

Flack gave her a grim smile of determination. "You need anything else?"

"No. I'll let Adam phone you, direct you when he finds Joe." He gives her a small wave and leaves. She's on her way back to the office, when she charms her way through the New Jersey commissioner and their joint task force on the kidnapping and attempted murder of a New York Crime lab detective. The result is two men that will meet up with Danny at the Palisades, while he and the park staff went back to where they'd found Mac.

Her next phone call was to a judge as she entered the elevator. It didn't take long and she had the warrant waiting as she stepped onto their floor.

Only when she was sitting down at her desk, her door closed and she'd given the tape off to be digitised, did she phone the hospital to find out how Mac was doing.

Mac's fever had gone up overnight, which wasn't unexpected. But he was holding his own and the prognosis stayed optimistic. She felt a release, sinking further into her chair. A tension she hadn't been aware of, bleeding out of her at the fact that things were moving along.

That Mac would be okay.

That Mac was alive.