Race Against Time

I had just gotten off the phone with the district attorney. They decided not to go through with the trial against Thomas Sanchez, my attacker. I sank to the floor, unable to believe it. He was walking and they could only get him for assault on a police officer, a slap on the wrist. Since I wasn't injured in any way, they couldn't hold him for any longer than overnight. He was walking amongst the citizens of Manhattan.

"They're letting him go", I whispered, my eyes frozen open.
"We got Maxwell though", Flack said. I hadn't noticed he was next to me. I jumped.
"Not Maxwell. I couldn't care less about him right now", I said, shaking.
"Who's walking?" Mac asked.
"Thomas Sanchez", I mouthed. I couldn't make myself say his name out loud.
"Who?" Flack repeated.
"Thomas Sanchez", I repeated, finally able to make myself audible.
"Who's Thomas Sanchez?" Mac asked. I shook my head, unable to make myself tell the story.
"He attacked her sixteen years ago and held a knife to her back last night", Flack explained. I nodded, resting my forehead against my knees.
"Why the hell would they let him walk?" Lindsay asked.
"Because they can only get him with pulling a knife on me and pushing me into an alley. Since I wasn't injured, they couldn't do anything", I replied. Flack swore in Gaelic.
"If he hadn't come along, he would've done bad stuff with that knife", I said, motioning with my thumb to Flack.

"Is there any way you can arrange police protection back home?" Mac asked. I shook my head.
"Nothing has happened, I don't have cause. It won't go through, things are a bit tricky back home", I replied. I had to call Levi. He he had to know. I dialed his number into my cell, standing up. My knees threatened to buckle and I was about to break down into tears.
"Levi Pacino", my brother's business-like voice answered.
"Levi? It's Izzy", I said, nearly whimpering.
"What's wrong, honey?" he asked, snapping to attention.
"Thomas Sanchez is walking", I replied, holding onto a lab table to steady myself. I waved away the attempts of Mac, Lindsay, and Flack.
"What are they smoking? He's dangerous!" Levi yelled. I stood there quietly, letting him rant.
"Nonno can't know", I said.
"I'm seriously contemplating calling him. This guy can't walk, no damn way", Levi said, his voice shaking.
"Levi, calm down. I'm going home in two days, there's no way this guy'll follow. He'll probably stay in Manhattan and I can put this nightmare behind me. I'm telling you because you nearly bit my head off for not telling you I saw him", I replied.
"In two days, you'll be in the clutches of God knows what", he fired back.
"I took that chance when I took the oath, Levi", I pointed out.

"You can't deal with this alone, Izzy", he argued.
"I'm not. I have Daddy, I have Ian, I have everyone back home. I'll be back in New York for Christmas and when Sarah has the baby, I'll worry about it then if he doesn't follow", I said.
"I guess you're right. Just be careful and don't go anywhere alone", Levi relented.
"Shoot, there goes my plans for running in Central Park at midnight by myself", I retorted.
"Be safe, Rodeo", he said, hanging up. I put my phone in my pocket.

"Who's Nonno?" Mac asked. He was genuinely concerned. I sighed, not able to avoid this now.
"Nonno means 'grandfather' in Italian. He's also the head of the Pacino crime family here in Manhattan", I replied, resting my forehead against my hands.
"Armando Pacino is a dangerous man", Mac said. I looked up at him.
"I know. Nonno always looks after the family and protects us with an iron fist. Anyone who messes with us, doesn't live long to tell the tale. He's also slippery", I replied.
"Don't go anywhere alone. You'll be an easy target", Lindsay suggested.
"As long as he doesn't come up to her from behind, I think she'll be okay", Flack said. I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah, cuz if he comes at me from the side or the front, I'll be prepared", I replied. I stood up straight, running a hand through my hair, realizing I just messed up my carefully orchestrated ponytail.
"Just be careful. Believe it or not, we actually like you", Lindsay said, squeezing my hand. I smiled.
"I like you guys too. Shoot, I ain't even been here a week, and I like you guys more than half the Wilmington PD", I replied. I set my papers on the table, forcing a smile.
"You sure? You nearly had a meltdown", Mac said. I chuckled.
"If I had a meltdown, there would be tears and no one could talk to me", I replied smoothly.
"Just making sure you're okay", Mac said, walking out. I chuckled, shaking my head.

"I swear, you're bipolar or something", Flack said, staring at me. I gave him a confused look.
"One minute, you're all freaked out, the next you're all happy and smiling. Or you're all pissed off, then you're all calm and peace-loving", he explained. I rolled my eyes.
"It's how I deal with stuff. I just get over stuff quick", I replied, shrugging.
"It's scary", he said, shaking his head. I chuckled, collecting my paperwork. I had killed most of the day on this case. I had about two hours left, then I was left to my own devices. I looked at the clock.
"Man, I gotta get my car fixed when I get home", I said randomly. Flack raised his eyebrow.
"What kinda car you got?" he asked.
"'69 Camaro SS", I replied. He widened his eyes.
"Nice. Not many of those around", he said.
"I love my car. Black with white racing stripes, 8-cylinder, 476 horsepower engine, leather interior, bucket seats. My favorite car since I was nine", I said, the image of my beloved car coming to mind.
"Not many women can boast a knowledge of cars. Careful with that, Rambo", he replied.
"Why's that?" I asked.
"I might ask you to marry me", he replied. I laughed.
"Well, it was either a '69 Camaro, a '70 Chevelle, '73 Barracuda, or a '77 Trans Am", I said.
"What, no Mustang?" he teased.
"Fords suck. Only the classic Mustangs will ever get nods", I replied, pointing.

"Good answer", he approved.