This fic contains some Danny/Lindsay and some Flack/Angell. If you do not like either of these ships, save me and yourself some time and don't read this. If you read it anyway, please don't spam me with "GRR! I HATE DL/FA!" comments, because I actually have a life.

Thank you.

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For some reason, murder always happened at the most inconvenient time. Sure, it was inconvenient for the murdered, but it was also untimely for the people that investigated the crimes.

Especially if they caused you to be called in on your day off.

This was one of the thoughts running through Detective Jessica Angell's mind as she walked under the crime scene tape that was already up. CSIs Lindsay Monroe and Stella Bonasera were already processing the scene, which meant that Angell had no real idea why she was here in the first place.

Stella was the first one to look up. "Hey, sorry you got called in, but there were no available on-duty detectives."

Angell shrugged and lied, "I don't really mind." Truthfully, she hated the fact that she had to be here instead of at home, but the CSI looked apologetic, so she let it go. "But you can make it up by telling me what we've got."

Stella smiled. "Well, Mr. Chase Howard here somehow ended up with two execution-style bullets to the head," she said with the good-natured attitude that, at a crime scene, can only be held by an experienced homicide investigator. "And Lindsay and I are going to try to find out how that happened."

Angell nodded. "Who found the body?"

"Landlady. She came to collect Howard's rent and ended up collecting some bad memories instead. She's waiting over there for you to talk to her." Lindsay gestured to an angry-looking elderly woman standing outside of the tape.

Angell sighed. "That looks like it's going to be fun."

"Good luck!" Stella grinned.

"Right. Thanks," Angell muttered as she made her way towards what looked like one of her more frustrating interviews.

As it was, the interview with the landlady went like pretty much every other interview Angell had taken. "Where were you last night?" "At home asleep." "Did you know the victim?" "Not really." "Any problems with him?" "Look, detective, I just want my money. Am I ever going to get it?"

Well, Angell certainly wasn't getting it out of the dead man's pocket for her.

"You know, I think that louse was selling drugs out of my apartment," the elderly woman grunted.

Okay, maybe a dime or two.

"Drugs? You think Chase Howard was selling drugs?" Angell turned her attention back to the witness, finally hearing something interesting from her mouth.

"Something illegal, at least. He kept having these trouble-looking men over with all of these tattoos and nonsense at all hours of the day and night. And they always seemed to have money or packages with them."

Angell thought about this for a second. Maybe this explained the execution-style murder. "Do you know if Mr. Howard had a girlfriend?"

"There was a girl that came by here every once in a while, but I don't think she was his girlfriend."

"Why not?"

"Oh, well, she couldn't have been older than seventeen, and besides, she didn't look happy to be here. Serious-looking kid, blonde, blue eyes. Acted a lot older than she looked. She asked me very politely one time if I had seen any people that looked dangerous wandering around Mr. Howard's apartment. I told her about the men, and she looked rather angry, but just thanked me and left the building."

Angell narrowed her eyes. This seemed like something worth checking in to. "Did you get a name?"

The woman screwed up her eyes, thinking hard. "Uhm… let's see… I think her first name was Christine I don't remember her last name."

"Do you think you could remember what she looked like?"

"I couldn't describe her, but if I saw her again, I'd recognize her."

"Do you have any security cameras here?"

The landlady smiled kindly, and Angell immediately knew the answer. "No, dear, I don't really have any need for them."

Angell sighed inwardly, thanked the woman, and ducked back under the tape.

"So, did miss landlady have anything to say?" Stella asked Angell as she walked over.

Angell shrugged noncommittally. "She thinks Howard was dealing drugs. Said she saw a lot of suspicious people stopping by his apartment. She also said that there was a teenager that was around a little bit, and actually asked her if there was anyone suspicious hanging around."

"Did she get a good look at this kid?" Lindsay inquired.

Angell shook her head. "She said that she could recognize her if she saw her again, but couldn't describe her. I managed to get a first name, though. Christine."

"Okay, then we need to find out who that kid was… and what she has to do with our case." Stella said as she snapped her kit shut. "I'm going to get this evidence back to the lab, Linds, can you hang around here and finish up?"

Lindsay nodded, hunched over a bag coated in a white powder. "Yeah… wait a second and take this back, it looks like cocaine."

Angell snorted. "That lady was right? I'm surprised. I figured the girl's name would end up being Nicole."

Lindsay grinned, sealed the bag in an evidence bag, and handed it to Stella. "Well, they both have letters in common."

"Okay, then Laura. I'm going to check the surrounding buildings to see if we can find anyone else that saw anything suspicious. The cop at the door is staying." Angell left the room, followed shortly by Stella. Lindsay stood up, looking around the room. The body had been removed by the coroner, and the apartment was pretty empty now that she was alone.

Or, maybe not. A sound came out of a nearby room, like someone was behind the wood door.

Lindsay's hand went instinctively to the gun on her belt and turned to look at the tape, in front of which stood a uniformed officer. Bring him in, or not? Lindsay decided that she was probably hearing things, and turned back.

The door was open.

"It was just wind…" Lindsay told herself, but her grip tightened and the gun started to slide out its holster without her even realizing it. "It was just some draft that blew the door opened… but how, if it was shut tight?"

She could sense that someone was behind her, but before she could turn, a hand smacked over her mouth.

"Make a sound and I kill you and the cop," a voice hissed into her ear. Lindsay could feel her gun be forced out from her grip, and she heard it be set on a nearby table. The badge and ID was also taken from her belt and set down.

"Okay, Detective Monroe. You've gotten involved in something you shouldn't be involved in. Unfortunately, that means you have to be taken out of the way."

There was a bang, and Lindsay heard a body hit the floor, but the man holding her was still standing.

"Your boss's wakeup call will be the dead body of that cop out there," the man growled. "Come, detective. We have places to be."

Lindsay couldn't resist as a gun was shoved in her back and she was forced out of the crime scene.