A/N: Again thank you for all the wonderful reviews on this story. I have plans for its completion so hang in there.

Key West Blues

Chapter 17

“Stella!” Lindsay called to Stella as she passed by.

Stella backing up a couple of steps then stepping through the office doorway, said, “What’s up, Lindsay?”

Lindsay flashed Stella a glance over the computer monitor, then refocused on it. “Remember that case we had last week in The Village?”

Stella stepped around the desk.“Yeah – the intentional shooting – Cilla Rasmussin. The boyfriend was our only viable suspect but without a weapon and with his airtight alibi, we couldn’t make anything stick.”

“Yeah, right, that’s the one.” Lindsay shook her finger at Stella in confirmation then tapped it against the computer screen. I’ve come across an interesting anomaly linking this case with another. Take a look.”

Stella staring over Lindsay’s shoulder, a dawning glimmer in her voice as she said. “The ballistic report from our case matches one from another case investigated a couple of weeks ago.”

“Right, so the same gun had to have been used in both murders.”

“Who investigated the other case?”

“I have the case file right here. I was going to look at it when I saw you walk by.” Lindsay opened it and began scanning with Stella still looking over her shoulder. “The victim was Brant Cominskey, an entertainment entrepreneur.”

“An entertainment entrepreneur?” Stella quipped, “Who in this city isn’t?”

“Sheldon and … Danny investigated this case.”

Stella, hearing the slightest catch in Lindsay’s voice as she said Danny’s name, discreetly overlooked it and continued, “Looks like they hit the same brick wall we did. No weapon was recovered and their most viable suspect was the wife, who also had an airtight alibi.”

Lindsay closed the file. “These two cases considered together may give us a lead to solve one or both of these murders.”

Stella nodded her approval. “Good work, Lindsay. So are you on it?” Pointing towards the door, “Because I have court prep to do before the courier comes for the papers at five.”

Lindsay glanced at her watch. “Oh god! Yes, I’m on it, but I won’t be able to get to it until my next shift. I’m on my way out to give one of the symposium presentations for Rand Silsbee.”

Stella, walking towards the door, “Okay, that’ll be fine, just let me know when you find out something.”

“I will, I will, Stel.” Lindsay, stacking files, closing her laptop.

“And Lindsay,” Stella turned in the doorway.

Lindsay paused from sliding her laptop into its bag, “Yes?”

Stella smiled, her green eyes snapping. “Knock their socks off.”

“Thanks Stella.”

Express apologies and make amends seemed to be the catch phrase of the last couple of visits with Ty. The man had a point but damn was it going to be tough. Danny’d already tried more than once with Lindsay, three times to be exact – the locker room, the alley and Key West – and failed miserably, each time successively worse than the last.

Three strikes and you’re out, Messer!

What had Ty said to him in regards to Lindsay, oh yeah, “Maybe she’s not ready to talk.” And what had he muttered in response, “Yeah, she certainly made that clear the last three times I tried to talk to her.” And Ty’s response that had raised the hair on the back of his neck, “This may be one you lose.”

No, he couldn’t believe for a moment they were truly over, not for a moment. He knew her. She just needed and space, like always. So in order to take his mind off her during the interim, and in efforts to put his best foot forward when she finally came around, he’d taken every bit of Ty’s advice to heart. The community service was basically slave work but at least it gave him something physically useful to do for as many hours a day as he wanted. What had Silas said to him just the other day? “Why, we don’t need nobody else when you do the work of ten men.” Silas’ laugh – as usual – slipping easily and loudly through the air, and believe it or not, he had laughed too, replying, “Then why don’t you pay me the wage of ten men, Silas, you ol’ cheapskate.” And what had Silas said, oh yeah, “Now, it wouldn’t be community service if I paid you.” But they both knew any little bit of money Silas had was stockpiled for fixing up the place up once they’d cleared out all the trash. He figured they’d cleared about three dumpsters’ worth – only ninety-seven more to go.

Sobering as he arrived at his destination, he focused on the sign on the building’s front, the building soaring to the sky, the building which had been such a huge part of his life for some many years, people in that building probably closer to him most of the time than his own family. You didn’t see what you saw on a daily basis and not grow close to those people who saw it with you, people who helped you cope, people, who you helped cope, people who understood you, people you understood, people who cared for you, people you cared for.

Focus Messer … so you don’t lose this too.

--

Reduced to visitor status by his rash actions of a couple weeks ago, he stood at the receptionist’s desk in the lobby while she confirmed his appointment, prepared his visitor’s pass and then called for an escort. He turned away from her, positioning elbows – nonchalantly as he could manage – on the high counter, watching employees pass to and fro through the security check, many he knew by face, some even by name. He didn’t want to catch their attention or even make small talk but be damned if he was going to hide himself by hovering over the receptionist’s desk, waiting for his pass and escort.

“Mr. Messer, here’s your pass and Detective Taylor said he’d be down shortly. In the meantime you can wait over there,” the receptionist informed him as she slid the pass across the counter. He fisted it but refused to noose it around his neck until the very last moment. Focusing on making his way to the seating area through the steady stream of employees passing back and forth through the security check, he didn’t notice her until he was only a few feet away from her. And she must have seen him the moment he saw her, for instantly her eyes widened, her mouth gapped and her path veered away from him but her eyes did not leave his face until she smacked into one of the granite support columns. She teetered as her hand cradled her head and then he was dodging people left and right, at her side instantly, his fingers palpitating her left temple.

“Are you alright?”

Her pupils dilated, harsher black crowding the softer brown almost to oblivion, then her hand pushing his away, her voice small but determined, “I’m fine.” She nimbly stepped around him, the cart, containing a file box and her laptop, following smartly but dutifully behind her as her heels clicked another message of rejection, another goodbye.

Damn, I've got to find some way to get through to her.

“Danny.”

Mac was beside him. He turned and slipped the visitor’s pass over his head, extending his hand. “Mac, I appreciate you taking the time to see me.”

A half smile tugged at Mac’s lips, better than he expected but then again he hadn’t made it to Mac’s office yet, behind closed doors where all hell could break loose.

Stay loose Messer and hope – no pray – for the best.

It was surreal – walking through the security check, boarding the elevator, pressing the button for the appropriate floor, doors opening, walking down a hallway he’d walked down a million times before, oftentimes with Mac at his side, conversing as they were now, but only in small talk, not case talk nor lab talk as they typically had. He nodded and gestured to familiar faces as they nodded and gestured to him but no one stopped to hold a conversation or even exchange ‘how ya doing’ pleasantries. No, it was all hurry and scurry, all business. It must be his visitor’s pass, indolently swinging from his neck as he walked, taunting, “Look at me, look at me. What a fool, what a fool. Don’t you see, don’t you see?” And that’s when he swore he’d do whatever it took to walk down these halls again free and clear of a visitor’s pass.

Taxi, I just need a taxi.

Thankful for once that the Crime Lab lined a busy thoroughfare she hailed one in with a flick of her hand. Ignoring the taxi driver as he came around to take her cart she wrestled it in after her.

“I’m keeping it with me.”

The taxi driver shrugged, “Whatever lady,” more bothered by having rousted himself from his perch in the front seat than her oddness at wrestling a cart into the backseat.

After she gave the driver her destination, she sunk back, rubbing her temple, the one that had met with the unforgiving surface of the granite column. Smooth, Lindsay, real smooth! She was under no illusions as to why Danny had been in the lobby of the Crime Lab. She steeled herself for the inevitable – his return to the lab. For all the pain and grief he had caused her, she certainly couldn’t deny him his opportunity to make a decent living in this city. She of all people knew how tough it was to get by. Dropping her hand to her lap, she was still amazed how much it was still trembling – how much his glance, his voice, his concern, his touch affected her. Her avoidance tactics were not working. She’d have to find another way to cope, to rid her mind and heart of him.

“Have a seat, Danny.”

As relief at having survived the gauntlet down the hallway to Mac’s office, sagged his knees, he fell heavily into the chair in front of the desk. Odd it was larger than he remembered, but the stern look on Mac’s face was exactly as he remembered it. Screw up with Mac and you’re screwed. He ran a hand up and over his face, giving his neck a brief massage as he straightened, ready to take anything Mac threw at him. That’s how much he wanted back into the lab, back into his life, back to …. The rustle of paper halted his thoughts as Mac removed two separate stacks from his desk, arranging them carefully side by side. Touching one then the other as if gleaning some wisdom or knowledge – or confidence – from them, Mac finally looked at him and spoke.

“Danny, I have two options for your job here at the lab.”

“Mac, I’d be grateful for anything that you can give me. I’m just ready to come back. I want this job. I need this job. I-”

Mac held up a hand, he halted his blithering flow.

“First, just listen and then, I want you to think, really think before you make your decision.”

Danny nodded, he understood, he’d been working on that – thinking before reacting.

“That day I ordered you out of the lab, I took the liberty of filing vacation leave for you, which amounted to roughly two weeks. Today is the last day of your vacation.”

Relief flooded through him as he responded. “Mac, I can be back on duty first thing tomorrow, tonight even, I’m ready.”

Mac’s lips disappeared for a moment before he continued. “Not so fast Danny. You can’t come back so easily. I need proof that you’ve changed for the better, that you can reasonably control your emotions.”

“I swear Mac, I’m working on it. I’ve been seeing Ty like you recommended – he’s really a great guy all in all, really helping me – and I’m doing community service, bet you never thought you’d see me doing that and it’s a shit detail but I’m doing ….” His voice trailed off at Mac’s apologetic look.

“It won’t be that easy.”

“You’re right and it shouldn’t be.” He gestured at Mac to continue finally just wanting to get this over with once and for all, “What do I have to do?”

“Two options – the first is medical leave for up to three months but with pay and your return is contingent upon a thorough psychological evaluation but it goes into your file which further limits your ability to be considered for promotion. This gives you a ways and a means to really work on your issues, to insure greater success.”

“And the second?”

“Unpaid personal leave for a month. You continue with Ty and anything he recommends. He’ll keep me posted on how things are progressing. At the end of that month, we all meet and I make my decision. But if I decide against your return, I file the termination papers and you’ll agree to take no legal recourse against me or the lab. If I approve your return, then you’ll be reinstated with merely a note of reprimand in your file. But,” Mac paused here, carefully considering his words before he spoke again, “but be forewarned Danny, I’m going to be very stringent about seeing progress and I will know if you aren’t towing the mark.”

Danny rubbed a hand along his jaw. Think, think, think! But there really wasn’t anything to think about. It was clear to him that there was only one option. He’d worked too hard to be held in one position for the rest of his life, to be at the mercy of some candy assed IAB psychological review – even if he was getting paid in the interim – to watch his life spiral down the drain with a loud suck and a shuddering sigh.

“Second option, Mac, hands down.”

“You sure, Danny, you didn’t think about that very long.”

“Sometimes you don’t need to think very long. Where do I sign?”