October 2007

Paul Chesterson had seen a number of interesting things in his years as a cop. He’d been in on drug busts in the private schools of the Upper East Side, seen how territorial homeless people were over ‘their’ dumpsters and caught a cop killer. Nevertheless, nothing he’d seen had looked like this. He sighed as he looked out over the collected crowd. He’d been proud of the ascension to homicide and even happier when he’d gotten this particular beat. Then he groaned as he saw three women duck under the tape. He wasn’t blind enough to miss how attractive they all were, but he didn’t care what kind of civilian they were or who they were related to, they couldn’t just walk onto his crime scene/

“Ladies, I’m afraid this place is closed.” He tried to hide his shock when the curly-haired one unclipped her NYPD badge from her belt.

“Good thing we remembered our all-access passes then.”

She was straight and to the point, something Paul always admired in law enforcement. There were too many people who beat around the bush, especially in cases like this one. Still, he couldn’t help but ask, “You’re cops?”

“CSIs.”

This came from the petite brunette. He watched her as she took in the scene, setting down the grey case she was wearing to withdraw a pair of latex gloves. “What on earth happened here?”

She wasn’t a native New Yorker, that much he knew. If it wasn’t for the polite way she spoke, he would have caught it in the trace of an accent. “Bank truck detoured into the front window.”

“And the press?”

Paul turned his attention to the last woman. “FOM.”

Curly Hair winced. “Damn.”

He held out his hand. “Paul Chesterson.” He wasn’t surprised when Petite Brunette was the first one to offer a friendly smile.

“Lindsay Monroe,” she introduced, handing a camera straight in front of Curly Hair. “Whit, you want the over-alls?”

“Sure thing.” She turned his attention to him. “Whitney Garas.” Then with a curt nod, she was off to do what Monroe had asked of her.

“Stella Bonasera. Who’s the VIP?”

Paul waved Monroe and Bonasera around the truck, drawing their attention to a male victim. “Darrel Palmer.”

Bonasera winced again. “And I was this close to heading home,” she sighed. “The mayor is going to be all over us.”

Monroe echoed her sigh. “Mac’s going to kill us.”

Paul tried for his most charming smile. This was going to be a big case for him, he could feel it. And if he got to work with, and flirt with, three very attractive CSIs, who was he to complain?

Lindsay breathed out a sigh of relief as the lead detective walked off. She’d put on a nice face for the guy, but she hated detectives that automatically assumed they couldn’t be law enforcement. “Want to tell me about Darrel Palmer?”

Stella shook her head. “Sometimes I forget that though you’re family you’re not from the city. Darrel Palmer works for one of the biggest financial companies in the country. He’s famous for the work he’s done in some of the less fortunate areas of New York.”

“And he’s a friend of the mayor?” Lindsay asked as she let her flashlight play over the interior of the restaurant and the car.

“Minimum 25 of his paycheck goes to various charities. He put up the financial backing to build a community center in one of the worst areas of the Bronx,” Stella answered as she crouched down beside Darrel Palmer.

Lindsay sighed. “And the rest of them?”

“Detective Chesterson probably has IDs. This isn’t the type of place you go to if you want to stay on the down low,” Stella answered. “I loved this place.”

“You’ve eaten here?”

“On a bad day,” Stella replied with a smile. “It wasn’t often.”

Lindsay glanced back to where Chesterson was trying to strike up a conversation with Whitney. He had a lot to learn about Mac Taylor’s team if he thought he could distract any one of them. They weren’t the best because they took their time to talk personal on the job. “What do we think of the new detective?”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Get me coffee stat. I’m going to need all of my senses for this one.”

Lindsay laughed just as Stella’s phone went off.

“Bonasera. Hey Mac. Yeah, sorry about that. Every bit of information will come to you when we have it. Nothing yet, we just got here. Fast and meticulous, Mac, I know. I’ll keep you in the loop.” She hung up and exchanged a knowing look with Lindsay. The mayor had already started hounding them.

“Anything?”

Lindsay sighed. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, Detective.”

“Paul,” he said, with a smile that he knew made women swoon. He tried not to look confused when it didn’t seem to have an effect on either woman.

Stella winced as her shoulder popped. “We’re going to have to collect the glass to determine the point of impact,” she said exchanging a disgusted look with Lindsay. The glass hadn’t exactly shattered in the most helpful of ways. “And call the ME for body pick up. The faster we can get Sid on these autopsies the faster we can figure out if it was the bullet or the impact that killed Mr Palmer.”

Paul looked at Stella in confusion. “Bullet?”

“Darrel Palmer was shot through the side before the truck hit the window,” Stella explained, shining a light in the tears in the man’s jacket.

“I’d say Darrel Palmer’s our target,” Lindsay agreed.

Stella nodded, hands on hips. “The question is, who on earth would want to kill the mayor’s favourite philanthropist?”

She hated glass. Hated it. From the depths of her heart. Which didn’t come to a surprise as Whitney lugged the third box of glass into the layout room and looked at it all with a sigh. This was going to take forever to figure out, to put together, and while she was a fan of puzzles, this was just terrifying to think of.

“Hey you,” Sheldon greeted softly. “You catch the mayor’s case?”

Whitney smiled as he wandered around the table to stand at her side, close enough for their shoulders to brush. “This would be the window of our cute little café.”

His eyes widened. “All of those pieces.”

“And I so got the short stick on this one.”

Sheldon couldn’t help his chuckle. “You get the honours of putting it together. Good luck with that.”

“You’re not going to help?”

“I’m headed for food. I was going to see if you could spare some time for my charming company, but it looks like you’re going to be busy for a while.”

Whitney sighed. It seemed like whenever one couple was back on track another one was hitting the rocks. She and Sheldon had been playing shift tag for the better part of two weeks. She turned to face him, apology written all over her face.

“It’s okay,” he said with a soft smile. “I know how it works.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to like it,” Whitney said softly, looking down and twining one hand with his. Much like Danny and Lindsay, they didn’t hide their relationship but didn’t broadcast it either. And if she was honest with herself, she missed him.

“I’m surprised Mac didn’t put more of us on the case,” Sheldon said, changing topics to try and change her mood.

She smiled, letting him know she appreciated the gesture. “It took us forever to get all of this glass together. I had to sign the tags so many times I was sure I was spelling my name wrong.”

Sheldon chuckled again. “I’m not surprised.”

They jumped apart when they heard the door open, but relaxed a bit when it was only Lindsay. She gave them a sympathetic smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” they both responded, neither enthusiastically.

Lindsay knew the feeling all too well. She spotted Danny strolling by, head in a file and got an idea. “Hey Messer!”

Danny stopped and looked around in surprise until he caught sight of her. He poked his head in the door. “Geeze, Montana, take five years off’a my life.” Then he caught sight of her sweet smile. “What do you want?”

Lindsay smiled, her full Montana smile that she knew got Danny in the gut and showed off her triumph. “You know how you’re always complaining we don’t get to work cases together anymore?”

“Uh huh…”

“Here’s your chance to spend at least three uninterrupted hours working a case with me.”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “What’s in it for me?” He shivered at the responding look, even as her voice was light and happy.

“You’ll see. What do you say?”

“I say let me get this to Mac. I’ll be right back.”

Lindsay turned back to Whitney and Sheldon. “You guys heading out for breakfast?”

Whitney and Sheldon blinked unsure of what had just happened. “Huh?”

“Danny’ll help me put the window together. Go, have breakfast. I’ll let you know when something comes in.”

Whitney almost skipped around the table to give her friend a hug. “You’re the best.”

“Actually, Danny’s whipped.”

“Same difference,” both women said at the same time.

“C’mon. I’m starved,” Whitney said with a grin.

Danny looked oddly at them as they left, then caught the soft smile on Lindsay’s face. “You matchmakin’ again, Montana?”

“Not at all, Messer. Just encouraging what’s already there.”

Danny shook his head, reaching out to playfully pinch her side as he passed. “You’re such a romantic.”

Lindsay squealed and darted away from him, tossing a pair of gloves his way. “So what? It’s why you love me.”

“It’s one of the reasons I love you,” he corrected, kissing her cheek. Then he looked at the bins and sighed. “And I must love you. Did they decide on the window that would shatter best when they put it in?”

She flashed him another Montana smile. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Damned right you will,” he growled, skillfully sliding his hand under her lab coat to brush up her side.

She turned a reproachful look on him, even as she shivered at the touch. “Behave, Messer. We’re at work.”

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Hate me later, I know it's not exactly the best.

I wanted to do something with Whitney, throw in a side order of conflict and see if I could wrap my head around a case in 3 chapters or less. Questions are always welcome, especially about cases. And yes, I promise you'll get some real Danny-Lindsay situations in this month too.