Chapter 6
“Abby?” Mac asked as she entered the lab, and was happy to find the usual comfort of the blaring Brain Matter tracks.
“In here, hun.” The gravely voice replied from her desk.
“For you.” Mac handed the giant Caf-Pow cup over to her friend.
“Thanks!” Abby almost yelled, jumping up and snatching the cup from the younger woman’s hand.
“How many have you had already today, Abs?” Mac asked slowly, gazing at the empty jugs scattered around all 3 sections of the lab.
“7” she bowed her head, sucking on her eighth.
“Whoa.” Mac sat on the edge of the desk as Abby flopped back in the spinning chair. “Well, in that case,” she began, grabbing the Caf-Pow with fast fingers, a cheeky grin plastered on her face. “I get some of this one.” She took a long draw on the hard straw and swallowed down a big gulp of the drink.
“Hey, not cool.” Abby jokingly snatched it back and winked at her sister-in-law. Mac stuck her tongue out and lifted herself from the desk, pulling a piece of paper from the back pocket of her jeans. “What’s that?” Abby stood and moved into the first section of the lab, Mac on her six.
“I read through Sarah’s manuscript and came up with this list.” She handed it over to the goth who booted up her computers. “These are characters in her book who bare some characteristics or similar names to people in her address book or that she had contact with in the last year.”
“Wow, that was fast.” Abby read down the long list.
“I guess you could say she pulled a ‘Gemcity’” Mac smiled, re-reading the list over Abby’s shoulder.
“You could” she smiled. “So what do you want me to do with it?”
“Run the names and pull up anyone with a record or suspicious activity, if you would.” She smiled persuasively.
“Oh, not much at all.” She said sarcastically, solemn thoughts still lingering in her mind. She knew Mac was only trying to cheer her up, but she had just lost her sister-in-law, someone with the same relationship to her as Mac herself, although maybe not as close, and she had no need to be happy.
“It could be worse.” Mac became more serious. “I could’ve asked you to make up the list.” She tried to joke.
“Funny. I’ll see what I can do.” She agreed, and Mac reached round and kissed her on the cheek.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.” Abby smiled as Mac backed out of the lab, almost running straight into Tony, who grabbed her by the hips to stop them colliding.
“Watch where you are going.” He steadied her.
“Don’t stand behind me. And remove your hands now or you will feel the muzzle of my sig to your forehead.” She warned, sternly, and he threw his hands up in defense.
“Whoa, what is up with you?” he said, offended at her rough tone towards him. All he wanted to go was stop her falling and she was treating him as if he had groped her in front of Chris.
“I’m in a bad mood, ok? Nothing to do with you.” She lied. Her shoulder was playing up again; 2 bullet wounds will do that to you. She was stiff and mobility of her left hand was lower than usual, but it had happened before and she had gotten over it before. And, of course, it didn’t help that when steadying her Tony had held her at an angle that twisted her socket painfully. But it wasn’t his fault, and she thought maybe she should be a little nicer to him. “Sorry, Tony.” She apologized.
“Nah, it’s ok.” He nodded shyly, bowing his head and staring at her shoes.
“Well come on then.” She glided past him and into the cold elevator.
“I though we were here to see Abby?” he turned, his forehead contorted in confusion.
“You missed it. And you’ll miss the elevator too is you don’t move your ass.” She smiled, and he lurched forward, squeezing between the heavy doors before they separated him from her.
--------------------------
“So what’s Abby doing?” Tony asked Mac as the stepped simultaneously from the elevator and through the pneumatic doors into autopsy.
“Running down a list that could be crucial to us.” She brushed the question off, walking ahead of him to the sterile bench.
“Could be?” he asked, stopping by her side.
“Unclear currently. Could be a break, could be pointless.” She sighed and turned to Ducky. “What you got for us dad?” she placed her hands on her hips.
“Cause of death was the slicing of her throat. A rather painful way to die,” he began to explain. “She would have drifted in and out of consciousness for several minutes before the blood loss rendered her unconscious.” Ducky explained to them solemnly.
“What about the sharp force trauma to the abdomen?” Mac asked sternly, gazing angrily down at the stiff body on her father’s table.
“Ah, performed after her throat was slit I reckon. Possibly she was taking too long to die and he wanted to speed it up. Ducky sighed, upset he even thought about it.
“Possibly.” Mac mumbled in agreement, rubbing her shoulder inconspicuously with her right hand.
“Are you alright?” Ducky asked, and Mac mentally slapped herself for letting him notice.
“Fine.” She lied curtly, dropping her hand and smiling convincingly.
“Are you sure?” he asked, and she easily picked up on the worry in his voice. Ducky was a caring and loyal father, but sometimes too worried. But is that not what parents are for?
“Trust me, I’m fine.” She smiled, rubbing his arm reassuringly.
“If you say so.” He smiled back. “There was something under her fingernails; I took a scrapping and gave it to Abby.”
“Right, thanks. I’ll check in later.” She kissed him softly on the cheek, then turned and walked with Tony back up to the bullpen.
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