Title: A Thousand Words
By: jayceepat
Rating: PG-13 for graphic descriptions of crime scene
Pairings: Nick/OMC
Characters: Nick Stokes, Warrick Brown, Jim Brass, Super Dave
Warnings: Eventually will be slash
Spoilers: None
A/N: This is an AU. In this story, Greg Sanders is not a CSI nor was he ever a DNA technician. He does not exist......or does he?

 

"Damn, damn, damn....not another one. This is the third time we've been stopped." Nick Stokes was usually pretty even tempered but they had been trying to get to their new crime scene for the last 40 minutes and both he and Warrick Brown were getting tired of the roadblocks they were encountering; both figuratively and literally.

They pulled up to the third set of blockades and the third set of rent-a-cops. Again, they pulled out their ID's and gave them to the two uniformed men who immediately got on their phones and after another five minute delay came back and gave them their papers and moved the barricade's out of the way so they could get their SUV the last few blocks to the big mansion at the end of the cul-de-sac.

‘Rick had to laugh at the disgusted look on his partner's face. "What's the matter, Nick? Don't you like hobnobbing in the playground of the rich and famous?"

"Warrick, it doesn't matter whether it's in a multi-million dollar mansion or a one-room shack on the wrong side of town, murder is murder and it's a serious business. These ass-holes are acting as though it's an inconvenience designed to disrupt their bridge and cocktail hour."

They finally pulled up in the huge circular driveway and parked as close to the massive front doors as possible. They were both at the back of the Denali slipping into their vests and getting their kits ready when a distinguished looking man in formal clothes came out on the front landing and said, "Gentlemen. Please pull your vehicles around to the back service entrance. This area is reserved for the family and guests."

Warrick looked up at Nick and realized his long-time partner was ready to blow. He turned around to the man on the steps and said, "Look, I don't care what your usual routine is but this is a crime scene; it's OUR crime scene and if you don't get out of our way and stop interfering with the legal processes of the state of Nevada, I'm going to call Captain Jim Brass, the head of homicide and have your formal ass thrown in jail. Now, are you going to tell us where the body is or do we get some real cops in here?"

The ‘butler' just stood there looking down his nose at the two determined CSI's. Nick fastened the top button on his vest, picked up ‘Rick's kit and handed it to him. He picked up his own and said, "Come on, partner; let's do our job."

The two determined men started up the steps advancing on the ‘butler' who didn't look quite as snooty as he had a few seconds ago. As the men continued their steady advance towards him, he decided that discretion truly was the better part of valor and backed up until he hit the door. He grabbed the edge of the door and turned and darted through it intending to slam the door behind him but he was 62 and lived in a world where there were two classes of people; those who could afford him and those who couldn't. Warrick and Nick were more than 20 years younger and they lived in a world where there also two classes of people; those who obeyed the laws...and those who didn't. Their two worlds were about to collide and Warrick and Nick fully intended to be the last dogs standing when they did.

Nick put his shoulder against the door as Warrick reached through and grabbed the man's wrist and pulled him forward sharply. There was a very undignified yelp of pain from the other side of the door and then the pressure on the door was gone. Nick pushed the door open and he and Warrick both entered the great hall. Warrick continued to hold the butler's wrist while Nick pulled his cell phone out and started to call Brass. He hesitated when he heard the sound of tires on the gravel outside. He looked around in time to see a red-faced, thoroughly pissed Jim Brass climb out of his car.

"Hey Brass, what kept you?" Nick almost had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the angry homicide captain. Brass had also been stopped by the over-zealous rent-a-cops but he had lost his cool at the second stop and by the third, he had taken the time to rip them a new one and tell them in no uncertain terms that while the residential area might be considered private property; when a murder occurred, the LVPD assumed control and if he saw them anywhere except the main gate he would arrest them and charge them with interference and as accessories after the fact.

At that point, Nick lost his battle and had to chuckle. "Can you do that, Jim?"

"Hell I don't know, but we can hold them for 48 hours and then let a judge decide whether I was a little overzealous. What's going on here?"

"This guy not only refused to let us in, he tried to slam the door in our face. We stopped him." Nick wasn't chuckling anymore. He was angry again just thinking of the sanctimonious idiot and the way he had behaved.

"Do you want him arrested?" Jim looked and sounded like he was just aching to arrest someone. Nick sort of got the idea that Jim was thinking fondly of rubber hoses and the good old days.

"I don't know Jim; I guess that sort of depends on him. What do you say, Jeeves? Do we arrest you or do you want to act like a good citizen and assist the police and criminalists in finding out who did this to your boss?"

The older man visibly deflated. He let out a deep sigh and said, "I'll do what ever I can to assist you."

Brass looked a little disappointed that he couldn't perform some sort of violence on the man but asked him to take the two CSI's to the body and then come right back to him; he had some questions to ask him. As the man walked in front of them down the hall, Nick asked him what his name was. "Please just call me Charles. That's what Eric likes."

"Eric is your boss?" asked Nick.

"Yes he is or rather he was." Charles was obviously upset. "Mr. Sanders was a wonderful man. I can't imagine any one doing this to him. It had to have been a robber." He stopped outside a closed door and started to open the door. Nick grabbed his hand before he could touch the knob.

"Why is this door closed?" he asked. If it had been closed, how did Charles know his employer was dead inside and if it wasn't closed, he had compromised the scene by touching the door knob.

"The door was wide open. When I found Mr. Eric on the floor, I backed out and used my elbow to shut the door. I didn't want anyone to see him that absolutely didn't have to but he and I watch crime shows together and I know not to touch anything. I called you on my cell phone which had been with me while I was out."

Warrick started to ask him where he had been but Brass yelled down the hall, "Guy's? You do the evidence, I do the questions. Let's not get our roles mixed."

At any other time, Warrick might have been tempted to flip Jim the bird but they were on the job and there was a body waiting. He set his kit down, opened it up, put on some gloves and printed the door and handle. He found several sets of good prints and after carefully bagging and tagging the prints, he nodded to Nick to open the door and they entered the actual crime scene.

The room was beautiful; rich, comfortable and expensive. The body on the magnificent Persian rug was very much out of place and so was the blood that seemed to cover every wall and every piece of furniture. There were bone fragments stuck to the walls and pieces of brain scattered everywhere. Nick looked up at the ceiling and was amazed to discover goop hanging from the big ceiling fan in the middle of the room. Nick looked around the room thinking that he could work the rest of his life and never earn what the contents of the room probably cost. He looked at Warrick and said, "You got the body last time so I'll take it this time and you start the room. I'll help you after I do the photo documentation." ‘Rick nodded his head in agreement and the two long time friends and partner's started working together.

Nick was somewhat hampered because by law, he could not touch the body until the coroner had pronounced. The law is the law no matter how ridiculous it may be. Considering the fact that the victim's head pretty much consisted of some bone fragments and red jelly, it was obvious the victim was dead. I mean really, really dead. He set up markers and began to carefully document the body and its surroundings in photos. Then he started to expand his area and take pictures of the windows, the furniture and eventually, the entire room. Finally, they heard David out in the hall. Nick went to the door and motioned him down to him.

"My Lord, I think every single media person in the state of Nevada is outside the entry gates. Who was this guy anyway?"

Warrick looked at him in amazement. "David, what planet have you been living on? Eric Sanders is the biggest thing in the music world no matter what you like. He's a composer, singer, musician; he's got enough Grammy's to cover a wall."

"I don't really listen to much music. I like news or PBS or sometimes show tunes."

David bent over and said, "If he was so popular, who hated him enough to do this to him?"

Nick looked up and said, "So you don't think it's a robber either?"

David shook his head, still bending over and looking at the place where the corpse's face should have been. "I've been around you guys long enough to know this is overkill and that means this is personal. The cause of death is pretty obvious. Of course, he could have died from a bullet but with this much damage, it's going to be hard to determine that. Will you be sure and look for a bullet just in case?"

"We will. Is there anything you can tell us about TOD?"

"He's not in rigor yet and...." David removed the thermometer he'd inserted in the body's liver. "Based on the temperature here in the room which seems to be completely normal and the reading, he's been dead no more than two hours."

Warrick turned around and said, "Damn, he could be out there in that bunch hanging around the front gates."

"I don't know ‘Rick; look at this mess. Whoever did this should have been covered in blood and assorted gore. How did he get out of here? I don't see any footprints and there should have been drips. David says two hours; we've been here almost one and Charles called it in as soon as he got home. So someone beat this guy to death and got out of here soaked in blood in what....40 minutes at the most?"

Rick looked at his friend and shook his head. "I have no idea my friend. What I do know is we have at least three maybe four more hours of work in this room alone and then I guess we need to do a quick once-over on the rest of the house. So do you want to get to it?"

"You know Rick, I really think we should do a quick once over right now just in case the killer tried to clean up somewhere else in the house. As bad as the scene is here, I know Charles could not have cleaned it all up and then been squeaky clean himself when we got here. Maybe we could get a jump on things."

Rick had started nodding half way through Nick's little speech. "That's a damn good idea Bro. Let's go get Charles and make him give us a quick guided tour, okay?"

They headed down the hall looking for Brass and Charles. They found them in the kitchen and it was pretty obvious the kitchen had not been used as a cleanup area. It almost glowed it was so clean. They asked Brass if he was through with Charles and told him what they wanted to do. Brass agreed it was a good idea and said he would head outside and set up a perimeter guard to make sure some hard-assed paparazzi didn't get through the rent-a-cops.

Charles told them he was sure the rest of the house was untouched but he would be glad to show them around. They went upstairs and did a thorough search of every room. After the second door they realized there was no need to go into the rooms. Every room had deep pile carpet that had been carefully vacuumed in a diagonal pattern. You could see a footprint from the middle of the hall. They concentrated on the bathrooms. Again, they could have done surgery on any floor surface.

"Do you have a cleaning crew in here every day?" Warrick was amazed. He had never seen any place quite as clean as this one.

"Mr. Eric did not grow up wealthy and he never took his good luck or his talent for granted. He appreciates beauty and order and cleanliness. It is my pleasure to make sure his home is spotless at all times. I enjoy working for him and he is kind enough to insist that I treat this as my home as well as my place of employment."

"I take it you really liked your boss then?" Nick asked.

"Yes sir, I really like...liked him." Charles almost lost his composure when he changed his response to the past tense. He did not want to say anything that would make his employer's death a fact.

Warrick cleared his throat and asked Charles which was ‘Mr. Eric's' bedroom. Charles led them to the end of the hall and opened the door on a room that glowed with wealth and taste. The room was done in shades of green and ivory with splashes of rose. By now, both Warrick and Nick had forgiven Charles for his behavior when they first got there. They realized he was in shock and hurt over losing someone who was more than just a boss to him.
"We need to take some exemplars from his bathroom" he said "hair from his brush and his toothbrush; his razor...if you watch the crime shows, you understand the drill...right?"

"Yes, I know. I knew when I saw his body that you would need those things. Come in here please." He led them into a magnificent bathroom. He motioned to the vanity where a silver-handled toothbrush was standing in a glass of water. Nick looked at the glass and then at Warrick.

"Do you think the tech's can get anything off that if it's been soaking in water?" he asked.

"Oh it's not water; it's peroxide. Eric has the most beautiful smile I've ever seen and he is vain about his teeth. He always soaks his toothbrush in peroxide and he is meticulous about using peroxide as a mouth rinse for 10 minutes every morning and every evening. No, your best bet is going to be his hairbrush and maybe a Kleenex in the wastebasket."

"Why a Kleenex?" asked Nick.

"Because he uses an old-fashioned straight razor and he wipes it with a Kleenex. It might have skin cells on the Kleenex."

As it turned out, Charles really knew his crime shows and his boss. They did find some hairs with good tags in the brush and a Kleenex with a small spot of what might be blood in the trash.

As they finished their tour of the upstairs and headed down to look at the baths on the first floor, Nick asked Charles to tell them a little about their victim.

Charles looked at him and said, "Have you ever heard the expression, ‘A picture is worth a thousand words?" Both men nodded yes. Charles said, "Come with me." He led them down the hall past the crime scene to a room at the end of the hall. He opened the door and motioned them to enter the room.

Nick and Warrick walked into the room and they both stopped inside the door. Directly opposite the door to the room was a portrait of a young man. He was standing slightly turned away from the viewer. He had his arms folded loosely across his chest. He was wearing an emerald green shirt that must have been silk from the slight sheen that was evident in the painting. Nick looked up into the painted eyes and found himself catching his breath. The eyes were deep chocolate brown, far apart and shaded with dark, thick, lush eye-lashes. His skin was fair and there was a slight dusting of moles across one cheek. His hair was a soft, light brown curling over his brow in a Julius Caesar cut. He had a mouth that would have been called beautiful on a woman; on him it was sensual and provocative. Nick thought he had never seen a more beautiful face on any human; male or female. The eyes looked down deep inside him. He wondered what it would be like to look in those eyes and watch them come so close you finally had to close your own just before you felt that mouth touch yours....."NICK"

He jumped. "What, what's the matter?" Warrick was staring at him with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Where the hell did you go, Nick? You haven't heard a word I've said to you for quite a while now."

Nick looked around and saw they were no longer in the room but walking down the hall back to the body. He didn't remember leaving the room but he felt a physical pain when he realized he wasn't looking at that unforgettable face.

While they were upstairs, David's crew had arrived. David walked out of the room and motioned to the two investigators. "We need to get the body out of here now. Is there anything else you want to look at before we take him and is there any special treatment you want for the autopsy?"

Nick looked at Warrick and it was a measure of how long they had worked together and how well they understood each other that they didn't even need to discuss the details. Nick turned back to David. "Be sure and bag his hands before you move him. All we have is some hairs in his hair brush to match DNA and we're hoping we may find something under his nails. David, use a new body bag and wrap him carefully. We need trace that may be present on his clothes or his body." He turned to Warrick and asked if he could think of anything else. Warrick told him he'd covered everything he wanted. They stood outside the door and waited while David and the rest of the morgue attendants prepared the body for transport.

When the body was gone, he and ‘Rick went back into the bloody room and continued processing the evidence. Four hours, fifty-three minutes later, they stood in the middle of the carnage trying to stretch the kinks out of their backs. At long last Warrick said what they both were thinking. "This had got to be the scariest dude we've ever run up against. There is not one single piece of bone larger that the splinters sticking in the gobs of brain matter on the walls, ceilings and floors. There are no indications of eyes, brain, sinus, skull...nothing except for the one tooth you found under the couch. Either this guy in forty minutes managed to pulverize the head beyond pulp or.........."

Nick swallowed painfully, "Or, he took it all with him."

‘Rick suddenly slapped himself in the forehead. "Oh shit, shit, shit; come on Nick." He turned and walked back into the crime scene. Nick followed; he might not know where his partner was going or what brain storm he'd just had but he was not letting him do anything alone.

"What brilliant idea just goosed you in the ass?" He and Warrick were almost the perfect team to investigate a crime. They had brains, training that complimented each other perfectly and they both had flashes of brilliant intuition that bordered on the spooky sometimes.

Warrick walked over to the spot where the body had been. He went down on his knees and almost laid his head on the floor. Since there didn't seem to be a spot anywhere on the ruined rug that hadn't been covered in brains and gore, he really didn't want his face to touch any part of the damned thing but he had to get the light just right. "There it is. We missed it completely."

"What did we miss? Show me." Nick was down on his knees opposite Warrick.

‘Rick straightened up slowly. "Take a look at the nap of the rug right there. Do you see what I see?"

Nick looked very closely. He finally did what ‘Rick had done; put his face almost down on the floor. There it was.

He sat up and said exactly what Warrick had said. "Shit, shit, shit...how did we miss...never mind. I know how we missed it. We were too busy collecting and cataloging clots and shards of bone."

Now that they both knew what they were looking for, it was right there in front of them. The nap of the rug all went in one direction. It should have been sort of smashed down, especially if someone had beaten a head into goop right there. Nick suddenly saw something else and pointed it out to ‘Rick. "Look right there; see those little indentations. Someone used something like a dust pan to scrape the majority of the head onto."

‘Rick had started nodding half-way through Nick's sentence. "Yeah and then they carefully spilled some of the blood and little fragments back onto the rug to make us think it was all there. But what did they use?" He started looking around the room. His eyes landed on the fireplace tools. "Nicky, did you check everything in that holder over there?"

Nick looked over at the fireplace. "Yeah, I sprayed anything that could have been used as a weapon."

"Did you spray the shovel?"

"What are you talking about; shovel?"

"You know. When you clean out a fireplace, there's always this little shovel that you use to pick up the ashes that get swept over to the corners."

"No, I didn't because it had a little tiny handle and there was no way that thing could do the damage we saw in here."

"Yeah but maybe someone used it to scrape the...."

"Evidence?" Nick filled in.

"Yeah, evidence. Maybe someone used it to scrape the evidence into what ever they used to collect it."

Nick stood up and winced as his knees cracked loudly. "Damn, I'm getting too old to spend hours on my knees like I used too" he complained. He went out to the hall and got the luminal out of his kit. He came back into the room, went over to the fireplace and carefully pulled the shovel out of the holder. It was heavier than he had thought it would be. It appeared to be solid brass not just the cheaper hollow tube instruments he was used to. He sprayed the flat head and around the bottom of the handle. It was completely clean.

Warrick shrugged and said, "I didn't really think we'd find anything but we got to cover all the bases. Why don't you get your camera and get pictures of this? You're better at the photo's than I am and we really need close-ups to prove our point on this one."

Nick took another set of photos of the rug nap and the faint indentations. He finished and just stood there for a second. Warrick looked at him and then said, "What ya thinking partner?"

"Why would he do this?" Nick was puzzled. None of this made any sense to him.

"Hell, I don't know and I don't want to know. The day we start understanding why the crazies do what they do is the day we check ourselves into the funny farm. We're normal Nick. We're not supposed to understand why they do the things they do. That's the difference between us and them and I don't care what anyone say's; those FBI profilers that get into their minds? They have to have the same impulses the crazies do. They've just figured out how to put their impulses to work on the right side of the law but I still wouldn't want a single one of them watching my back in a dark alley."

Nick could tell this whole thing had impacted his partner badly and he decided he needed to get Warrick out of there. Of course, his need to get away from that blood soaked room was all for his partner and not because of any bad vibes he had. He hoped he never had to come back to this hell house again....except. Except for one thing he wouldn't mind seeing again and learning more about. Just one thing.

The portrait of Eric Sanders.

 

It had been two weeks to the day since Warrick Brown and Nick Stokes had gotten the call to investigate the death of Eric Sanders. During that time, every single avenue had come to a dead end. Eric Sanders seemed to be that rare individual who did not have one single enemy in the world. He was universally loved, admired, worshiped and in general was rapidly approaching saint-hood.

Money, which was usually the number one motive when someone like Sanders was killed, was ruled out almost immediately. His will showed the bulk of his immense fortune went to charity with individual bequests to friends, band members and of course Charles who had an air tight alibi.

A disgruntled lover was not to be found; someone trying to get rid of the competition was not even an option. Everyone agreed; there was only one Eric Sanders. There was no one waiting in the wings to take his place because he was one of a kind. There was absolutely not a single sign of an intruder and the method of his death had pretty much ruled that out from the very beginning.

As time progressed, the frenzy surrounding his death grew until the only thing that could even be used as comparison was the death of Princess Diane. Shrines grew outside the gates to his residential community, his studio in downtown Las Vegas and the small club where he was first discovered. His funeral which had occurred 8 days after his death brought the town to a standstill. McCarran International Airport almost exhausted the ‘International' part of its name. Private Jets landed around the clock for the 24 hours before the service and the 24 hours after. Every single hotel was standing room only and with all the celebrities coming in for his funeral, the hotel concierge's were working 24/7.

Under normal circumstances, Nick and Warrick would not be affected by the building hysteria other than the normal pressure to solve a high profile case but these were not normal circumstances for Nick.

Nick began to think that possession was alive and well in Las Vegas and especially in him. He was behaving so far out of character he even scared himself. It had started with the viewing of the portrait of their murder victim. Although he had wracked his brains, he never remembered leaving the sitting room where the portrait was hanging. He never remembered what he said or how he got into the hall. The first thing he remembered was Warrick's worried ‘NICK" out in the hall.

He had recovered himself quickly and worked with Rick in his normal, efficient manner. They had worked for hours on their hands and knees and up on step stools collecting every single speck of evidence, body parts, blood spatter...anything that might give them a place to start.

There had been additional hours back at the lab, organizing and entering every single piece. They knew as important as this victim had been, every thing they did would come under microscopic scrutiny. It didn't matter. No matter how careful they were or how hard they worked; there simply was nothing to find. After 48 hours, Catherine had sent them home to sleep. They were so tired and so discouraged they didn't even argue. It was when Nick woke up that his world went to hell in a hand basket.

At first, everything seemed normal. He had slept like a log for over ten hours so the first thing on his mind was draining his bladder. He went into the kitchen and started the coffee then went back and took a scalding hot shower to loosen his sore, aching muscles. He finished off with a cold spray which instantly invigorated him and made him ready for his day. He put on some clean sweats and a soft old t-shirt and headed into the kitchen for his first cup of coffee and a good breakfast.

Nick had always taken care of himself. He felt it was a part of his job to maintain a healthy body and he also felt a healthy body contributed to a lively, open mind. He read constantly; anything he thought would help him on his job and a wide variety of subjects that personally interested him. He ate well; even fruits, which he loved and vegetables which he tolerated.

He went out to get the paper to read while he ate. Warrick and Catherine both teased him about his devotion to his paper headlines but he said that TV reporters were more interested in becoming personalities than they were in reporting what was happening in the world or locally and letting their listeners decide how to interrupt it for themselves.

The Las Vegas Sun was full of the death of Eric Sanders. From the huge headlines to the back page, every single aspect of the death and Sanders career was covered. There were several pages of nothing but pictures of Eric performing, Eric rehearsing, Eric recording, Eric working at the Special Olympics, Eric reading to kids at Desert Palms. Nick looked at all the pictures carefully; studying the background at first to see if he saw something out of place but after a few minutes he found he was concentrating on the face of the victim. He turned one page and there was the portrait in color. It covered the whole page. Seeing it in newsprint was not like looking at the actual painting. It was not as compelling and Nick found he did not lose trace of time the way he had at the house. On the back of the page was a story about the artist who created the amazing portrait.

He had been Eric's lover. Eric Sanders was gay. Eric Sanders had a male lover. Nick didn't realize he was not breathing until he felt light headed and drew in a huge gulp of air. What difference did it make to him if Eric Sanders had a male lover? Eric Sanders was well and truly dead. The fact that he liked men was of no interest to Nick. The fact that Nick liked men was of no interest to anyone.

Nick had come to terms with his own sexuality several years ago. He did not broadcast the fact that he dated both men and women but he preferred men. He did not deceive but neither did he elaborate. If anyone had ever asked him a direct question, he might have answered them but no one ever had. He had told his parents because he did not want his trips home ruined by the constant questions about when he was going to get married or when he was going to bring a girl home to meet the folks. He told them he loved them with all his heart and he wanted his time with them to be happy and comfortable and it wasn't when they constantly questioned him. So they had to face the fact that he probably would never marry. He was not going to say it absolutely would not happen; he thought he could marry a woman if he found someone he could get along with who had kids he liked and needed someone to help her raise them. He could see that kind of conventional marriage but a full fledged love affair would not happen. He was pretty sure that after dating constantly for almost twenty-five years; if he hadn't found someone he could love by now, he never would.

Which was why he could not figure out why just looking at a picture of a musician, a dead musician named Eric Sanders made him breathe a little faster, a little harder? Why did his pulse speed up and mouth go dry? The man was dead for God's sake. No one could possibly know better than Nick that the man was dead. Unless of course it was Warrick who had helped him investigate that slaughter room and then observe the autopsy. There was something about watching a body being cut open, the entrails removed, weighed and tagged all the while the empty space where the head should be was just that...an empty space. It pretty much ruled out the possibility of a mistake.

Not mention the fact that the DNA of the body had matched the DNA of the tags on the hairs collected from the hair brush and the small spot of blood on the Kleenex retrieved from the wastebasket in the master bath. So what the hell was wrong with him?

Nick couldn't come up with any answers and no one was as surprised as he was when he found himself calling the number of Charles cell phone. He started to flip his cell phone closed when he heard a pick-up on the other end followed by Charles cultured voice. "Hello Mr. Stokes, what can I do to help you?"

"Charles, how did you know it was me?"

"When you left, you gave me your card and told me to call if I thought of anything else. I programmed your cell phone into mine so I would have it handy. Is there something you need?"

"Would it be convenient for you if I was to drop by there? I'd like to take another look around now that I've had some sleep and my brain is working."

"Please come anytime you wish Mr. Stokes. I know you and your partner want to find Eric's killer as badly as I do."

Nick hung up the phone wondering what the hell he was doing. He had no business going back to that house; especially without his partner. He probably should call Warrick and tell him what he was going to do. But then, maybe Warrick was still sleeping. He wouldn't take the chance of waking him. He would go look over the scene and tell Warrick later. Of course he would.
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When Nick got to the gates, he almost changed his mind but as he drove up, the guards came out and moved the barricades, waving him through to the gate-house. The guard asked to see his driver's license. When he saw the CSI ID, he handed Nick back his wallet and told him he was expected. Nick drove on with no other incidents. When he pulled up in the big circular driveway, the door opened and Charles walked out to the top of the steps to wait for him. "Did you have any problems getting through the crowds, Mr. Stokes?"

Nick ran up the steps and said, "No I didn't. They were moving the barriers as I drove up."

"Good, I called them and told them you were coming back and described your car to them. I was pretty sure you would be in the big SUV since you said you wanted to view the scene again."

Charles led them into the house. He asked Nick if he wanted to see the room again or did he want to see other parts of the house. After the third ‘Mr. Stokes', Nick said, "Charles, please call me Nick. We will both be more comfortable. I think I would like to look at his portrait again if you don't mind."

Charles smiled a very strange smile and said, "Of course not. I love to show off Eric to someone who will appreciate him the way he should be."

Nick started to ask him what he meant but Charles had already turned and was heading down the hall. Nick felt his pulse quicken at the thought he would see the portrait again. He needed to see if he had the same reaction. He was scared to death that he would but he had learned a long time ago, the best way to handle fear was to face it head on. What you didn't know could always hurt you worse than what you did. Charles was standing at the end of the hall beside the open door. Nick swallowed hard and walked towards the room.

It was the same. The eyes grabbed his attention as soon as he entered the room. He felt like he was falling into warm brown velvet, liquid chocolate, everything warm and wonderful. The eyes were mesmerizing with the mouth a close second. He looked at that sweet, sulky mouth. He wondered if the lips would be soft or hard...no....soft for sure. The lips would mold to his mouth and the tongue; his tongue, Eric's tongue would trace the outline of his lips until he couldn't resist and he would open his mouth and let that clever, inquisitive tongue into his mouth. He would taste that sweet, hot mouth and hold that slim, hard body against his and he would......'Nick, NICK".

"What?"

He was standing directly in front of the painting. His hands were on the heavy canvas. He was touching the painted silk shirt. He turned around and stared at Charles. "What did I do, did I do it again?" He didn't even try to pretend he hadn't zoned out. It was too obvious to both of them.

"Nick, come to the kitchen. I'll tell you about him. That's what you came here for, isn't it?"
Charles turned and walked out of the room. He didn't look back to see if Nick would follow. He knew he would. He would follow him anywhere to hear about Eric Sanders.
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Nick was settled at the kitchen table with a great cup of coffee and a piece of cinnamon-apple coffee cake that would seduce an angel right out of their wings. Charles was sitting across from him with his suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair, completely at ease.

"To tell you about Eric, I have to tell you about me. I was a principal at a posh private school in Connecticut. Of course, my official title was ‘Head-Master'. The difference between a principal and a ‘Head-Master' is about $10,000.00 a semester. The people we catered to could afford us and we did produce well educated students. We were pretty strict with our students and we had high ideals. If a student didn't measure up, he or she was bounced. I thought I had the world by the tail and I did until a female student named Gwendolyn Masters decided she would offer me sex for an ‘A'. When I refused, she told me she would make me sorry. "

"She did; but not right then. I waited for her to make a move and when three weeks had gone by and nothing happened I decided it was just teen-age bluster and went back to my normal routine which included a sexual relationship with a lovely lady I had been seeing for almost six months. Later, I figured it out. Gwen followed me, learning my habits and routines. She was a sharp cookie and figured out I was sleeping with my lady love and must have gotten into her garbage and got a condom with my sperm. She came to my office, threw herself at me fighting and scratching. I was fighting back trying to get her off me and pushed her. I had grabbed her arms when she started reaching for my eyes with her long fingernails. Suddenly she ripped the buttons off her blouse and started screaming. When the rape kit was done at the hospital, surprise, surprise; my semen was in her vagina. That, along with the bruises on her arms and the bruise on her hip where I pushed her into my desk was all it took to end my career. It took a while for me to make the cops listen to me and take me back to the hospital and do an exam on me. It proved that I had not had an orgasm for several days and the second test on my sperm showed the swimmers had no tails which meant they were old but the papers and the TV's had already spread the news far and wide. It didn't matter that she lied and I was innocent. People don't read or pay attention to retractions. Of course retractions aren't on the front page. Usually they're somewhere back around page six."

"I wish I could be original but I did everything you might expect. I tried for a while but when I couldn't even get a job flipping hamburgers at McDonald's, I started drinking. Then I started traveling and drinking. Then I started snorting and traveling and drinking. I wound up in Las Vegas. One night I was pan-handling outside a little club downtown. A bunch of people came out laughing and I started begging. One of the bouncers came out and told me to get lost. I told him I just wanted some change from the happy people and he grabbed me and threw me out in the street. A car clipped me and knocked me back on the sidewalk and he laughed and went back in the club."

"One of the happy guys came over and asked me if I was alright. His friends tried to drag him away from the filthy bum before he caught something from me. I was hurting so bad; the car had cracked a rib but I didn't know it then. I just knew I hurt too much to answer him and I doubled up in a ball to keep him from kicking me in the sore rib. He bent down beside me and said in the softest voice I'd ever heard, "You've had a pretty bad time haven't you fellow? That's how I met Eric Sanders."

"He took me to the hospital, got me fixed up and took me back to his apartment with him. Oh he didn't live here then. He had a little one room place over on North Lake Mead Blvd. It was a really bad part of town but his little studio was clean as a pin. Of course the first week I was there I had no idea what it looked like or how clean it was. Between trying to get over the car wreck and going cold turkey off the drugs and drying out from the booze, I was a mess. I can't imagine what Eric was thinking or why he put up with it but he cared for me like a parent caring for a sick child. He changed my sheets, sponged me off when I soaked my clothes with sweat or urine, emptied my pan when I puked and believe me I puked a lot. Most of it green bile because I don't think I had eaten in days before the wreck. It wasn't a pleasant 10 days but at the end; I was weak as a kitten, shaking like a leaf and clean and sober for the first time in over a year. I was also sure Eric Sanders was one of God's Angels. He would sing to me or play his guitar when I was shaking my guts out and he talked to me like I was a human being and not a piece of garbage to be kicked into the gutter. I would have crawled through fire on broken glass for him. All he asked was that I stay sober and off the drugs."

"He was making a name for himself and two weeks after I promised him I would stay clean, he appeared at the same club he'd been coming out of when I met him. There was a studio player there that night."

Nick interrupted him for the first time. "What's a studio player?"

"That's a musician who plays back-up for other artists. Most of them work for recording studios and they make really great money. They also recognize talent when they see and hear it. This guy listened to one song and knew Eric was something special. He mentioned him to the musical director at the Bellagio who called and told him to come in for an audition. When he did the audition, Celine Dion was in the club. She was looking for some new faces for her theater. She took one look at Eric and was hooked. When she heard him sing, she was almost panting to sign him up. From that moment on, it was a rocket trip straight to the outer limits. No one was as surprised as I was when he insisted on taking me with him."

"What did you do?" Nick was lost in the story and he almost hated to ask the question but he was a little confused.

"Anything he needed. I cleaned his dressing room and his home; by then we had moved from the studio in the really bad part of town to a two bedroom apartment in a somewhat decent part of town. I managed his money; I bought his food and prepared it. I did the laundry and saw to it that his stage outfits were cleaned and repaired. I drove him to his shows and picked him up afterwards. I cleaned his car and kept it serviced. I would have wiped his ass if he had asked me. I was so grateful to him for treating me like a human I would have done anything for him. He just never asked me for anything and he was so damn grateful for everything I did."

"I asked him one night if he didn't have a girl friend and if so, did he want me to get lost so he could have some privacy. He just smiled at me and told me he was concentrating on his career right then and he liked having me around. He felt like he had someone who liked him just for him and not for what he looked like or how he sounded. I told him I would always tell him the truth and never say what I thought he wanted to hear. He asked me if I would give him a blowjob and I told him I would not. It would be like committing incest. He put his arms around me and hugged me and told me he would never test me again. He said we were a team and we would always be. Nick, he never broke that promise to me. He never left me out of anything. He listened to me and if I told him he was getting a big head, he gave me that beautiful smile of his and told me I was a real pain in his ass and he didn't know what he would do without me. I was with him every step of the way and believe me it was a wild, wild ride."

"Tell me about the painting Charles."

"That happened about two years after he became a world wide star. He won four Grammies and was up for an Oscar for the song he wrote for ‘A Handsome Face'. There was a huge party that night. He'd won the Oscar and got a standing ovation when he sang it at the show. Everyone in the entertainment business was dying to meet him. He was the belle of the ball, the one person that everyone wanted to be seen with. He told me later he was dying for some fresh air and removal from all the bullshit. He had gone with a group to a party at Mike Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones. He was hoping that a private party and a private home would be a little easier to take and for a while it was. He played the piano and did a couple of numbers with Catherine who is a great singer and he was really enjoying himself but the minute he started mingling with the guests, it was the same thing. He was pawed and pinched until he felt like a piece of meat. He managed to get away by saying he had to pee and then he slipped down the hall after he got out of the bathroom to try to find a quiet place to call me and have me come pick him up. He found the pool room and was just getting ready to call me when he heard a voice behind him say, ‘What's the matter, you getting tired of being worshiped. Believe me it won't last. There will be a new face in a couple of weeks and then you can live like a normal person again.'"

"He turned around and saw a young man sitting in one of the easy chairs. He went over and sat down in the other chair and asked him what he was doing there. The man introduced himself as Scott Henderson and told him he was a commercial artist. He'd been hired by the Douglas family to paint portraits of their two children and they had invited him to the party. They talked and Eric said it was a surprise to him when he realized they were flirting and he was enjoying himself. Scott asked him how he had gotten to the party and he told him he came with some people and was just calling someone for a ride back to his hotel. Scott asked him if he wanted to leave with him and he said yes. When they got in the car and left the grounds Scott asked him if he would like to come back to his house with him and have a drink in peace and quiet. They became lovers that night and I use the term lovers in every sense of the word. Eric was crazy about him and I think the portrait shows how much Scott loved Eric. There are other portraits and drawings of Eric. They are nude studies and they are the most beautiful things I've ever seen. When you see them, you will know how Michael-Angelo felt when he was working on his statue of David. They are truly works of art."

"What do you mean, ‘when I see them'?" Nick asked Charles.

"Oh Nick, don't you think I know that look. I've seen it so many times on so many faces. But you are the first person since Scott that I know Eric would want to see those pictures. If he were here with us, he would be pouring your coffee and cutting you a piece of the coffee cake. He would be looking at you with those big brown eyes. He would have a slight flush on his cheeks and his moles would look like beauty spots and you would not be able to take your eyes off him. The two of you would be in your own world together and I could set off a cannon in this kitchen and neither of you would notice. And I would be so happy, so very happy."

Nick didn't even try to argue with Charles. Just the thought of sitting across the table from the man in the picture made him ache with longing for something that would never happen. He finally managed to ask, "What happened with Scott and Eric? Why isn't Scott here with you?"

"Scott left Beverly Hills after he finished the Douglas portraits and came here to Las Vegas. He spent hours drawing and painting Eric. He'd been here about eight months when he started working on the portrait in the sitting room. It took him almost five months and I watched him become more and more possessive and more erratic. When he finished the portrait, Eric was so thrilled. He wanted to throw a huge party and invite everyone he knew to see Scott's masterpiece. Scott became enraged and told him he just wanted to show himself off to everyone. Eric tried to calm him; he told him he didn't care about anyone but him. He told him he loved him and thought he was a genius; he wanted everyone to see what a wonderful artist Scott was. The fight got worse and worse. I tried to ignore it and leave them alone but when I heard Eric cry out I went upstairs and burst into their bedroom. Scott had Eric on the floor and was smashing his fists into his face screaming he was going to ruin his beauty; he would fix him so no one would ever look at him with lust again. I pulled Scott off him and threw him out of the bedroom. Scott stumbled down the stairs saying he was going to kill Eric. I should have followed him but Eric was bleeding on the floor. He was my first concern. I heard a motor start outside and then I heard the tires scream on the driveway. I had to call our family doctor to come to the house to fix Eric. We waited for Scott to come back but he didn't. Eric spent thousands of dollars on private investigators trying to find him. Neither he nor the Hummer were ever seen again."

 

Nick meant to tell Warrick about his visit to the Sanders mansion/crime scene. He really did but when he got to work, Catherine stuck her head in the locker room as he and Warrick were putting on their vests and told them they had another high-profile murder at Circus, Circus. They needed to get over there ASAP. The sheriff and mayor were having a hissy-fit about their city's media image. It was bad enough that every single lead in the Sanders murder had gone ice cold. Well that wasn't quite accurate. You actually had to have something concrete enough to follow before you could say the trail went cold. They had zip, zilch, nada, bupkus. No one could or would harm a hair on Eric Sanders head. No, they had just beat said head to a pulp and then took most of it with them.

Every thought of his evening with Charles went out the window as he and Warrick made a flying trip to the supply room to restock their kits and then almost ran for their SUV. Warrick drove while Nick got on the phone to Brass to try to get some advance info and decide the best place to leave the big Denali. Brass told him to come around to the service entrance and come in through there. He had some uniforms on guard duty that knew both Warrick and Nick and would pass them through right away. He also told Nick, he would try to keep in touch with the guards so they would know just where to send them when they got there.

"Why do you have guards on the service entrance Jim? Don't you have crime scene tape up?"

"Yeah but the God Damned vultures are out in flocks. I wish every single one of the mother-fuckers would just disappear off the face of the earth."

Nick told Jim he understood and they were coming with lights and sirens. Warrick looked over at him briefly and asked what Jim had his undies in a twist about. Nick looked over and said, "Hey, are you getting psychic in your old age partner?"

"Hell no, but I could hear Jim's voice clear over here and above the sirens. He's upset isn't he?"

"Yeah, when Jim uses the MF word, he's pissed way over the line. The paparazzi are coming out of the woodwork. They smell blood and like all scavengers when the smell is on the air, they are on the prowl. Jim says to come to the back and come in through the service entrance. He's got guys on duty and they know us. He's going to keep in touch with them so they can tell us exactly where to go when we get there."

"Well that's good, because if I can get this DAFT (dumb-ass-fucking-tourist) out of my way, we'll be there in about three minutes." Warrick laid down on his horn and tweaked the siren. The idiot in front of them was gawking at the sights and paying no attention what-so-ever. Nick reached down and grabbed the bullhorn. He quickly plugged it into the lighter plug and in his loudest, nastiest voice boomed out, "You in the blue Toyota. Get over to the right immediately or you will be arrested for impeding a Las Vegas officer in the line of duty." They both laughed out loud when the DAFT jumped so hard they could see his head hit the car's header. He jerked his wheel over to the right and pulled over...right up on the sidewalk. Warrick threw a quick look at his irate partner and said, "Now that's what I call clearing traffic. Way to go Bro!"

Two minutes later, they were pulling up to the back of the big Casino/Hotel. The guards were indeed guys they both knew. They told them exactly how to get to the main dining salon where Brass and Dr. Robbins were waiting for them. They exchanged puzzled glances; what was Doc Robbins doing there? Usually, David took all the outside calls because of Doc's crutches.

They headed down the hallway the guards had pointed out to them and the further they went the higher the sound decibels grew. They round a turn, quickly went through the kitchen and out the swinging doors into the main salon where the term chaotic did not begin to cover the scene.

Evidently, the victim and his guest were having a late dinner together along with it looked like a thousand other people. Nick knew the main salon had a licensed capacity for 162 diners. It just seemed like a thousand because every single person in the room, with the exception of the two bodies on the floor and Doc Robbins were in motion and screaming for some unknown reason. Nick told the officers to clear the room at once and hold the guests outside.

Nick and Warrick hurried over, set their kits down on a table removed from the main area and started their photo work. Nick took the body again while Warrick did all the tables immediately surrounding the one the bodies had been occupying. As Nick finished the last shots, Doc Robbins asked him to help him turn the body over. Nick was more than happy to help the good doctor who was a universal favorite with every one in the lab. Besides, this way he could get front shots and then he and Warrick could do their prelim exam while waiting for the body wagon. He asked Doc why he was there instead of Super Dave. Doc just shook his head and said he and the Mrs. had been out on the town to celebrate the news that their youngest daughter was finally pregnant. He had wanted to take her to Tao at the Venetian but could not get reservations so they had come here to Circus Circus. "Talk about a surprise ending to a night out on the town," he said with disgust. "And before you ask me, no I did not see the shooting or anyone who might have been the shooter. It was just spooky. One minute, great food, good wine, soft romantic music and the next thing, the smell of cordite, shot's, screams and then that smell of blood you just can't mistake."

Nick slipped his hands carefully under the body and rolled it over. As the face came into view he let out a soft ‘Damn'. Warrick turned around and came over at once. "Nicky, don't do that to me. What are you dam.......Oh Shit."

The body was one of the town's most famous, flamboyant personalities; Erwin Grant. He was a loud-mouthed, crass TV host. He ran a late-night gossip show and for the last two nights, the LVPD and the crime scene technicians had been vilified by him in loud, crude language. He had ripped them to pieces because they didn't have Eric Sanders killer in custody and of course, hadn't given him any inside dirt. Nick was only human and while in his professional persona, he deplored the fact that a human being had lost his life violently, deep down inside he thought it couldn't happen to a more deserving ass-hole.

The problem was, now he and Warrick had to try to find out who, besides them of course, hated the ass-hole enough to take not only him, but his companion; out of this world. Doc had already checked the female and if the purse they found was really hers, she was not Mrs. Erwin Grant. Brass had left shortly after the CSI's had arrived and was on his way to the Grant family home to break the good/bad news to Mrs. Grant.

Doc called Warrick over and when he had them both together, he told them it was pretty cut and dried. Being in the line of work he was, he had automatically checked his watch when the shots started. There were four shots starting at 11:56pm exactly. According to his findings, Grant had one graze on the left side of his head. The second shot got him right between the eyes. The third or fourth shot got his dinner companion at the base of her skull. The shooter was facing Grant which gave them a sight line on the source of the shots. The companion was sitting with her back to the small, almost unnoticeable exit door which is where the shooter was standing when they started their killing spree.

"Why do you say third or fourth shot Doc? Why don't you know?" asked Nick.

"Well, I don't see a graze. This victim was starting to get up. Her seat was pushed back from the table. I'm willing to bet if she'd stayed in her seat, she would have been drilled through the back of the skull but because she was starting to stand, the bullet hit her at the base of the skull and came out the front of her throat just clipping the point of her chin. I think the bullet is probably in the table. I have no idea where the other bullet is but I know I heard four shots. At least the cause and time of death is certain. That's two things you don't have to try to prove or disprove." Doc Robbins reached out a hand and Nick and Warrick both grabbed for him to help him to his feet. Warrick reached out and got his arm supports and handed them to him. Doc thanked them both and told them he was going to have the bodies moved and the scene was theirs. Warrick asked him to send the Maitre D' in if he saw him out there. They needed to get the seating charts and find out who had been seated at the tables right around the victims. Doc nodded and left the big room.

The two men began collecting the utensils and china from the table. Warrick found a napkin on the floor beneath the table. It had a smear of lipstick so he was pretty sure it had fallen from the lap of the female victim as she stood up to get away from the table. He bagged the cloth.

A very rattled older man entered the main salon and headed for the two CSI's. He introduced himself as Phillip Walsh, the Maitre D'. He took them to the main computer and both men were thrilled to see that it had the latest and greatest soft ware installed. This was a specialized program which allowed the high scale restaurants to enter their floor layouts complete with table placement and complete room specs. In addition, this version could add the names to each table when a reservation was made. Because the main salon at Circus-Circus was rated a 4 star establishment, that meant that almost every single table was reserved due to a reservation. They had names for every single table at least four deep around their victim's. They thanked Mr. Walsh and told him they would do their best to get out of there as quickly as possible so he could get his cleaning staff in and get back in business. He told them he would certainly appreciate anything they could do for him, printed off the names and positions of all the tables and quickly headed out of the room, avoiding the large blood spots on his formerly pristine carpet.

Warrick looked at Nick and asked him if he wanted to take their stuff back to the lab, log it and start tracking down the folks around the table. Nick said no, he wanted to double check the sight line and then take a look at that exit door. Warrick shook his head in agreement and called out to Mr. Walsh who had almost made it out of the room. "Mr. Walsh, could you come back here just a second please?"

Mr. Walsh did not look happy. He returned quickly and asked what else they needed. Warrick asked him about the exit door. Where did it go? Was it locked? Who used it? Why was it so unnoticeable? Usually, an exit door was clearly marked in fresh, bright paint so it could be easily found when needed.

Mr. Walsh told them the door was not really used for a general exit; it was used by the staff to keep an eye on the room. He used it to check on his staff; make sure they were following the salon's rules for serving and working to their high expectations. "We aren't spying on them, gentlemen. We pay our servers well above average and their tips are exceptional and all theirs. The House does not take a percentage. We do ask that they give approximately 10 percent of their tips to the kitchen staff. You know; the bus boys and general kitchen workers. We also, on occasion, allow a high profile guest to use that exit when they don't want to go through the lobby; either because of fans or paparazzi."

Both Warrick and Nick lit up. Nick asked him if he could recall if Mr. Grant had ever used that entrance.

"Oh yes, he's used it on several occasions. Mr. Grant likes the ladies and I don't mean his lawfully, wedded wife. He had to use the exit several times when he was with someone he shouldn't be and the guys with the flash bulbs were waiting."

Evidently, the CSI's weren't the only people who hated Mr. Grant.

Nick and Warrick thanked Mr. Walsh again and just as he was about to walk away, Rick asked him if the door was kept locked and if the hall was lit. He said the door was usually unlocked and the hall was lit but the bulb was a low wattage. He said you could clearly see if the door was opened but he didn't think you could actually tell who was standing in the door if you were several tables away from the exit.

This time the guys let the poor man make his get-away and they headed for the door. Rick stopped, stripped off his latex gloves, carefully bagged them and put on a fresh pair. He and Nick used their ALS on the door handle and found nothing. Nick printed the door knob and at least a foot all around. They found smudges but nothing usable. Rick still used his fingertips to open the door just in case. The hall beyond was dark. Not a sign of light. They used their mag lights and searched the wall on both side of the doors; no switch. They flashed their lights up to the ceiling and several feet down the hall they saw the ceiling fixture. It was at least 8 maybe 9 feet above the floor. Nick got down almost on his stomach and flashed his light across the carpet. There it was; faint but unmistakable; four little dimples in the carpet. He had Rick double check him. He saw them too. They carefully single stepped down the sides of the hall to a door close to the end of the hall, opened it and found a small folding step stool. They brought it back and fit it carefully into the marks on the rug. It fit perfectly. Nick started to step up then realized; he had not re-gloved. He motioned Rick to take the stool. Rick carefully touched the light and turned it and it came on. Some one had used the stool to loosen the light so no one would notice when the door opened. Still, those diners closest to the door should have seen or heard something. They carefully removed the bulb and bagged it.

They went back into the restaurant and looked back at the door. The lights were just as they had been; no one had turned them up. Nick told Rick to go back, close the door and then open it. He saw the second the door started to open. They were missing something.

They gathered up all their evidence and their kits and headed out to find Mr. Walsh. They needed to ask him one more question. He said no, the lights were never turned off in the main salon; it would be asking for a law suit to leave the guests without light to get in and out of the room. He started to leave and suddenly turned back.

"You know, there is one time when the lights are dimmed; when we serve a flambéed dish. We dim the lights to enhance the presentation."

Both men said together, "Did you serve one tonight?"

Mr. Walsh took them back into the room to the main computer. "We have the dishes entered by time. Do you know...?"

Nick said, "Somewhere between 11:50 and midnight."

Mr. Walsh brought up the main menu and selected ‘Charges'. There it was; Mr. Grant and guest; one order of Banana's Flambé.

They thanked him again and left.

On the way back to the lab, they talked it out. Not Mrs. Grant because the low-life didn't waste 4 star restaurants on the wife so it had to be one of his play-mates. Nick added, "I'll bet he's got his routine down pat; same restaurant, same fancy dessert. An old girl-friend would know exactly what, where and when. I'll even bet they were with him on one of those times when they had to leave by the ‘secret exit'."

Warrick was nodding his head in agreement. "So all we have to do is get a list of his girl-friends and see where they were between 11:00pm and...oh say...12:30 am this morning. Now how do we do that?"

"The ass-hole's secretary" Warrick said. "They always know what's going on mainly because guy's like Grant treat them like dirt. They don't even consider them real people so they don't hide their little secrets as well as they should."

Nick said, "Rick, it's 4.00 am. I don't feel like rousting the poor woman now. Why don't we go back to the lab and get all this evidence checked in and formerly identified. We can go talk to her right after we get off at 8.00am and with luck, we can just hand the names over to Brass and let him take it from there."

Rick said, "I've got an even better idea. What say we talk to Brass and give him our conclusions? He can go see her and take it from there."

"Damn I like that idea. We might actually get off on time and get some sleep. I'm just one step up from road-kill right now."

"You and me both, Nick." Warrick let out a yawn that almost dislocated his jaw. Just then, Nick's cell phone went off. He looked at the number and saw it was Charles. He answered the phone with ‘Stokes'.

"Nick, its Charles. I've been watching the late-late news and saw you on the TV. Would you like to come over for a good breakfast before you go home and try to get some sleep?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I'll see you as soon as I get off and thanks."

"What's up partner? You got yourself a hot date waiting for you?" Warrick smiled at his long time partner and friend. He was always happy when Nick was getting a little action.

"Nope; nothing so good. My dentist had a cancellation and can fit me in this morning for my 6 month check-up. Not what you would call a hot date." Nick was not sure why he lied; nor was he sure why he didn't take the opportunity to tell Warrick right now about going back to the Sander's house before shift. He just knew he had a chance to see the portrait again and he was going to take it.
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After having breakfast and dinner every night with Charles, Nick was so far in over his head he was afraid he would never get out. He had told no one at work about his visits to their crime scene. He had not looked at the drawings Charles had mentioned. He had listened to Charles talk about Eric every morning and night for six days now. He had no idea what was happening to him. He dreamed about Eric when he slept and he thought about him when he was awake. They had absolutely no leads and they had been forced to release the body for burial. Nick was about to shit or get off the pot because Charles had asked him to go to the funeral with him.

Now Nick had to tell someone something. He just didn't know who or what. He finally went to Catherine and gave her a completely fictionalized version of the events. He said he and Warrick had both given Charles their cards according to protocol and told him to call them if he remembered or found anything else. He said Charles had tried to call Warrick but couldn't reach him so he called him and said he thought one of them should come to the funeral; in case the presence of someone might make him recall facts he couldn't remember before. Thank God, Catherine was completely preoccupied and told Nick she thought it was a good idea if he didn't mind going to a funeral. She hated them and she knew Warrick would not want to go; it was too soon after his Grams for him to be comfortable with the idea. Nick said he didn't like them either but they were grasping at straws on the murder anyway so he might as well suffer through the ritual.

He did feel a little guilty when Catherine took a moment to give him a little hug and tell him he was a good man and she appreciated his devotion to his job and his team.

He used the funeral to tell Warrick a sanitized, shortened story about Scott Henderson. He felt a lot guilty when Warrick got really excited and said that Nick had gone above and beyond and gotten them a new lead. Nick tried to keep him from getting too excited by reminding him that Scott's disappearance had been investigated and nothing had turned up. Warrick said, yeah, but it had not been investigated by them and let's get to it. Of course, this turned out to be another dead end. They found a gas station that had a record of a gas purchase by Eric Sanders on the day Scott disappeared. As it turned out, it was at the same time, Sander's family doctor was at the mansion treating his injuries from the beating Scott had given him before he took off with Sander's Hummer. Evidently, he had taken off with one of Eric's credit cards also. But after that, he just disappeared off the face of the earth.

The case dragged on even though it was obvious to everyone that it was going up on the ‘Billy Board'.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++
Nick continued to spend more and more time at the mansion eventually even sleeping there after a long shift. It had been two weeks to the day and Nick had his first night off since they had been called to the scene for the murder. He asked Charles if he could see the drawings. They went into the small parlor. Charles poured them both a drink of bourbon in heavy crystal glasses. He went upstairs and came back with a leather portfolio. He handed it to Nick. Nick laid it on the couch next to him and sipped his drink and talked with Charles; idle conversation, nothing about Eric for a change. Charles finished his drink, moved the decanter over to the table next to Nick and told him he was going to bed. He said his usual room was ready and to go to bed when he felt like it. He would see him in the morning. Nick asked him to turn off the main lights as he left the room. That left the light from the fireplace and the small reading lamp on the table next to the couch. Nick finished his drink, poured another small one and opened the portfolio.

The drawings were amazing. They were a visual wet dream. Eric lying on a towel beside the pool; his ass wet with a drop of water sliding down between his cheeks. Other drawings of Eric poolside; some on his back with his penis limp and lying on his thigh. One of them showed Eric on his stomach but raised up and looking over his shoulder with just the suggestion of an erection showing between his spread legs. He had a beautiful cock. There were drawings of just his groin and his cock in various stages of arousal. There was one drawing that made Nick's mouth water. It showed his dick with spurts of cum shooting out of it. There was a string of glistening cum on his stomach. Nick realized he had a healthy erection and he had to put the pictures down before he started shooting his own cum.

He forced himself to do some deep breathing and when he thought he had himself under control, he picked up the next drawing. It was Eric lying in a jumble of messy sheets on the big bed in his bedroom. He was looking right at Nick; his cheeks flushed and his cock hard and jutting straight up from his stomach. He had his legs sprawled apart and Nick could see the butt plug just barely visible in his ass. His mouth was open and his tongue was touching his upper lip. Nick let out a strangled moan and put the picture down. He swallowed the rest of his bourbon and quickly poured another. He drank the liquor down in one swallow looking at the portrait. He let his head fall back on the couch and slowly his eyes closed. He dreamed of Eric in his bed, naked and hard just for him. He was begging Nick to take the plug out and put himself in its place. He was promising delights that made Nick breath harder even in his sleep.

He was so far down in his dream it took him a few seconds to realize someone was shaking him and yelling at him. He opened his eyes and looked up expecting to see Charles trying to get him awake and upstairs to bed.

What he saw took his breath away.

"Who the hell are you, you filthy pervert? How dare you handle my pictures in my house? What have you done to Charles? Where is he?"

Nick realized he must still be asleep because he was looking into the beautiful, chocolate brown eyes of the portrait. Only the portrait was still hanging on the wall and these eyes were right over him and glaring at him with rage and anger. He was looking at a dead man. Only Eric Sanders was very much alive and was standing over him with a baseball bat in his hands ready to use it on Nick.

 

Nick felt like he had fallen asleep in one universe and woke up in another. Eric Sanders was standing over him threatening him with a baseball bat. This would be the Eric Sanders whose murder Nick had been working for the last two weeks. The man standing over him sure looked alive and if the expression on his face was any clue, he was more likely to commit murder than to BE murdered. He kept yelling questions at Nick but let's face it; between the booze and the sexual fantasies, it was not Nick's finest hour. He tried to answer the irate man but he didn't give him a chance. It didn't help that he had been caught with nude drawings all over the couch next to him and his own right hand quite obviously down his sweat pants.

He finally got himself together enough to try to explain to the man...to Eric if that's who he really was that he was a member of the Las Vegas Crime Lab and he had a legitimate reason for being in the house. He didn't even try to explain the drawings or the bourbon; some things just sort of speak for themselves. He realized that Eric was demanding his ID. He started to reach in his pocket then he remembered, his wallet was upstairs in his room. Oh this is just great; I'm drinking his whiskey, jacking off to his picture and just generally acting like a real...what was it he called him...oh yeah PERVERT!

He tried to tell him that he didn't have his wallet on him but even he realized how lame that sounded. He had just started to try to explain when a voice outside the room called his name. Charles came into the room looking for Nick. He had heard yelling downstairs and he didn't know if one of Nick's co-workers had showed up or if Nick was having a dream. He never expected to see his employer, his murdered employer whom he had buried just six days before standing there with a baseball bat ready to brain his new friend. He stopped dead trying to understand what he was seeing. He couldn't wrap his brain around it and he suddenly felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest. He grabbed his upper chest and groaned. The pain hit again and he blacked out. Just before he completely passed out he saw both men reach for him and then there was nothing.

Somehow both Nick and Eric managed to catch Charles at the same time so he didn't hit the floor. They gently lowered him to the soft carpet. Nick grabbed a cushion off the couch and put it under his head. He grabbed one of the napkins lying on the table beside the ice bucket and dipped it into the melting cubes. He began to bathe Charles forehead and cheeks with the cold water. Eric stood up and ran over to the desk. He jerked open one of the side drawers and started pawing through the contents. He grabbed something and came back again on a dead run. He dropped to his knees beside the sweet, old gentlemen he loved so dearly. He opened the bottle and took two of the small tablets and opening Charles mouth, he carefully placed them under his tongue.

Nick was still bathing his face and rubbing his hands. He looked up at Eric and said, "I take it that's nitro-glycerin. How bad is his heart?"

Eric's voice was a little shaky, "Its angina and it's not that bad when he takes his medicine and takes care of himself. He's not supposed to exert himself and no sudden shocks. I guess this qualifies as a major shock. What the hell has been going on around here? I'm willing to admit you didn't break in here. It was pretty obvious that Charles knew you but why are you drinking my bourbon and sleeping on my couch and most of all.....why are you jacking off to my pictures?"

Nick was truly saved by the bell when Charles let out a small moan and began to move a little. Nick put his hand on his chest and said in a low soft voice, "Charles, take it easy. Don't panic again. Just lay here for a minute and let your pills work. Everyone needs to do some explaining and I think it would be better for all of us if we do it at the same time. Are you feeling a little better now?"

"Physically yes, but I don't think I've ever been so confused in all my life. I swear I saw..." Charles slowly turned his head towards his left side. He shut his eyes and let out another soft moan. Both men started stroking his arms and talking to him gently. Eric was telling him it was really him and he needed him to calm down and help him figure out what was happening. Nick was just telling him to breathe slow and easy and let his pills work to slow his racing, erratic heart. Finally, he began to take deep breaths and a little color came back into his face. He opened his eyes and looked up at Eric. Nick felt so bad for him when he saw the tears filling his eyes and slowly slipping down his cheeks.

He carefully raised a hand towards Eric. His hand was shaking so badly he almost started to put it back down but Eric grabbed his hand and pulled against his cheek. He had a few tears of his own to shed. "Yes you old coot; it's me, it's really me and I'm glad to see you too. Can we get you up off the floor and into a chair now?"

Charles just looked at his formerly dead, dead and murdered employer. He ran his thumb over Eric's cheek, gently stroking over his beauty spots. "It really is you isn't it? I'm not dreaming this time. You're here, in our home right? This is real. Nicky, please tell me it's real."

Nicky smiled at the older man realizing for the first time how much he had come to mean to him and said, "Well, if you mean the portrait has come to life and was threatening me with a baseball bat...Yeah that's pretty much real. As for the rest, I'm just as confused as you are. Come on; let us get you up off this floor and settled in a chair and then we can trade stories. Okay?"

They slowly got the rattled man up and got him settled in one of the comfortable club chairs next to the fire. Nick pulled a stool over and lifted his feet onto the stool and then grabbed a throw off the back of the couch and gently spread it over his lap, legs and feet. He started to grab the bourbon decanter to pour him a glass but Charles shook his head. "I'd rather have my..."

"You'd rather have your brandy wouldn't you, you spoiled old man." Eric's smile made it plain that his words were just a joke between the two of them. "I'll go get it for you." He straightened up from where he had been squatting beside the chair and started to leave the room but Charles stopped him.

"Eric, it's in the kitchen; in the butler's pantry."

"What's it doing there? That fancy bottle of Hennessy moved into this house before we did."

Charles turned red and looked to Nick for help which he would have gladly given but he had no idea what they were talking about. He shrugged his shoulders to show his confusion and Charles said slowly, "The den is the, um, well, it's the crime scene. I did not want my Ellipse to remain in that horrible environment."

Eric looked at him and slowly shook his head. Without another word he left the room and returned with an object that Nick had never seen the likes of before. "What the hell is that?" he asked.

Eric smiled as he sat the magnificently carved wooden stand on the desk. He carefully manipulated some sort of bar and then removed a glass bottle that looked as though it had been carved out of one huge diamond. It was filled with some sort of beautiful amber liquid. Eric grabbed one of the highball glasses and started to pour some of the liquid into the glass when a startled gasp from Charles stopped him dead.

"Oh my Dear God Above, tell me you are not going to put that elixir of the gods in a common highball glass?" he gasped. His hand went to his chest and Nick really thought he was going to have another attack.

Eric glared at him for a second, then he put the highball glass back down on the bar, left the room again and returned this time with a glass with a full bubble bottom that even Nick recognized as a brandy snifter. "Damn, sometimes I rue the day I ever bought you that expensive crap in the first place. It's like a god-damned ritual just trying to pour you a drink." He carefully poured the liquid gold down the side of the snifter, swirled it a few times and then handed it to Charles.

"What the heck is that stuff anyway?" Nick asked.
"It's Hennessy's Ellipse; the most expensive brandy on the planet. You can only buy it at Harrod's in London and it comes in that case which is called a bespoke decanter. It was designed and created by Thomas Bastide the head designer for Cristaileries Baccarat and I, god help me, bought a bottle for Charles when my first CD went platinum and now you would think I was offering him swill if I suggest he drink any thing else."

Charles was still warming the brandy between his palms and he totally ignored Eric as he finally lifted the decanter and took a mouthful. He held it in his mouth for a moment and then slowly swallowed. Eric poked Nick in the ribs and said, "Looks like he's having an orgasm doesn't he?"

Nick couldn't help himself; he let out a little chuckle and then he just collapsed in a healthy belly laugh. Charles really did look like he was in the throes of a full fledged sexual climax...well Nick was pretty sure that's what it looked like. It had been a while for him.

After Charles had enjoyed his brandy totally ignoring the two men who were almost rolling on the floor; they all got serious and Eric told them his story.
* * * * * * * * * *
Several hours later, they had the house ready and their stories. The drawings were back in the leather portfolio and hid away, Nick was back in his street clothes and his car, which had been in one of the stalls in the garage, was parked out front in the driveway. They left the brandy out and Eric's glass of bourbon, but they washed the glass Nick had been using and carefully polished it and the bourbon decanter. After Nick had rubbed every centimeter of the decanter, he had Eric pick it up and pour himself another small glass; then he told him to reach around and press his fingers on the bottle again. He wanted it to look as though he had poured himself two drinks and handled the bottle differently each time.

When they had everything ready, Nick used his cell to call Warrick. For once, luck was on his side and he caught him in the break room between cases. He told him he needed him to come to the Sander's crime scene immediately and he told him to get hold of Brass and bring him with him. When Warrick started huffing and asking questions, Nick stopped him and said, "Rick, if you have ever trusted me in your life, please do it now. I need you and Brass here like 30 minutes ago and I don't want anyone to know the two of you are coming. Please?"

There was a moment of silence and then Warrick said, "Put a candle in the window Bro, I'm on my way."

Thirty-eight minutes later his Denali pulled into the driveway and parked behind Nick's big truck. Jim Brass pulled up as Warrick was getting out of his car. They both headed up the stairs together. Nick was waiting for them at the top of the stairs and just held his hand up when they both started asking him questions at the same time.

"Hold your horse's guys. I've got one for the books for you." He led them down the hallway to the small sitting room, opened the door and motioned them inside. They walked through the door and Nick knew the moment they laid eyes on Eric because Rick let out a "What the hell; no way, no way."

Jim just reached for his gun and said, "I really want to shoot someone right now. I'm just not sure who."

Nick walked in behind them and said, "Jim, Warrick, This is Eric Sanders...you know, the guy we buried six days ago."
* * * * * * * * * *
It took a while for everyone to calm down and for the first time, as long as Nick had known and worked for Jim, he saw Captain Jim Brass drink on the job. He had a cup of coffee with a splash of bourbon. Rick stayed with plain coffee because he said when he started drinking; he was going to be doing it for a while.

Brass took a deep breath and said, "Okay Mr. Sanders; tell us how you managed this return from the dead."

Eric told them about the pressures of his life; the groupies which were fun at first but then he realized they weren't interested in him, Eric Sanders. They just wanted to be with a celebrity and he didn't matter at all. He told them about the ‘yes' men and the agents and the hanger's on who all wanted a piece of him. He told them about the constant law suits from people who claimed he stole their songs or their music or the women who claimed he promised them marriage. He told them about the paparazzi who hounded him until he felt like a hunted animal. He said he was becoming more and more frantic and then one night, he had been watching a show on CSI:Miami about this rich dude who hired a body double. The double would take his place at charity and social events that bored him silly and leave him free to do what he really wanted to do.

"I got to thinking about how great it would be to have someone go to the parties and charity events and front for me so I could concentrate on my music and the actual performance. And then, I got what I thought was the idea of the century. Charles, you remember right after I released the first CD and the DJ's started playing ‘Just Another Pretty Face?' One of the local TV stations got the idea to hold an ‘Eric Sanders Look-a-Like' contest. Remember the kid who won?"

Charles picked up his clue so perfectly even Nick forgot for a moment they had carefully rehearsed this whole speech. "Yes, yes I do. The resemblance really was remarkable. He didn't have the scattering of moles on his cheek like yours but he did have one just under his cheekbone. He deserved to win the contest although I do seem to remember one of the other contestants was a little disgruntled."

Eric looked at Brass and said, "I know you probably think I'm nuts but God there were so many times when all I wanted was to be invisible. I know I ought to be on my knees thanking God for all I've got but man this all comes with a loss of privacy and humanity that you just can't imagine. All I could think about was the chance to be just a guy again; just a guy who likes to play music and jam with his buddies. Right after it started, we had fun; me and Charles. We were able to move out of that rat trap over on Lake Mead Blvd. into a nice 2 bedroom place in a safe part of town. When we washed the dishes we didn't have to check for roaches before we put the dishes in the cupboard. We had enough money to buy real food. God we had everything we needed and once in a while, we had stuff we wanted and I could go shopping or prowl through a 2nd hand store without worrying about being recognized and jumped."

Brass had been silent about as long as he could stand it. "So you're telling me, you decided to hire someone to play you so you could go look for a cheap paperback? What the hell kind of people are you?"

"Captain Brass, one time Eric and I went to a concert in the park over at UNLV. It was a small jazz group that Eric had played with before he got to be so popular. We were really looking forward to a pleasant evening listening to some good music and then catching up with some old friends. Some one recognized Eric. We were mobbed, the police had to be called, the concert was cancelled and Eric and I wound up in the ER. He had been clawed and pinched; locks of his hair had been pulled out so violently that he was bleeding. He was almost naked because they had ripped his clothes off. I tried to protect him but I was knocked to the ground and kicked and stomped by the hordes of ‘fans' trying to get to him. I had a bruised kidney, two broken ribs and a crushed testicle. I had to have it removed eventually."

Charles looked Brass right in the eyes. "I don't care what you think about us or for Eric for doing this. If you've never been stomped by a mob or had your hair torn out of your scalp by the roots, don't you dare judge us? Do you hear me? Don't you dare!"

Brass actually had the decency to lower his eyes and moderate his tone.

"You have a point. I've never been in that situation so I'll keep my mouth shut. You go ahead with your story."

Eric sighed and Nick relaxed. That whole thing had not been part of the story they had decided to tell. It had all just poured out of the two men and Nick was deeply moved by what they had gone through. He'd had just a small taste of what they were talking about after his ordeal at the hands of Walter Gordon. The media had almost gone crazy trying to get pictures of the "CSI who'd been buried alive". He'd had to have his phone number changed and some of his uniform friends had spent their off duty hours protecting him and keeping the vultures off his property.

"I called the guy; his name was Terry Whalen. He just went ballistic when he realized it really was me. It took me forever to get him calm enough to talk to me and then to get him to agree to meet me someplace private where we could talk. We met at a little park over by Desert Pines High School. You know the one over on Harris Avenue. The park is real nice and it's clean and usually deserted at night. I told him to be there at 8:30 pm and I showed up at 9.00 pm after I had a chance to look the place over and make sure he hadn't decided to sell me out to some low-life scumbag with a camera.
He was alone and was so excited he could hardly talk to me or even look at me. I told him what I wanted and asked him if he would be my body double. He didn't believe me at first but the more we talked, the more excited we both got. He did sound a little like me and the more I looked at him, the more I thought we might get away with it."

"He really got excited when I told him I'd been getting some nibbles from Hollywood and if things panned out, I would need a stand-in and of course, my body double would be my first choice for my stand-in. I didn't bullshit him. I told him it could be dangerous. I told him about the mob and the concert. He knew all about that. He said he'd stood guard outside the hospital for hours until he heard I was okay."

"We agreed on money. I told him I would pay for medical, dental and vision. I asked him if he would be willing to have some plastic surgery to make him look even more like me and he almost wet his pants."

Eric turned to Charles and said, "You remember when we went out to California four months ago? We went first class and so did Terry. He was on the plane that left right after ours. I put him up at Beverly Hilton in one of their cottage units. When you thought I went to the studio for a look at the recording facilities, I actually picked Terry up and took him to a plastic surgeon. I told them exactly what I wanted and paid for it in cash. Then I made arrangements for him to be picked up and taken to the Doctor's office for the surgery and also for round the clock nursing care while he recuperated. We came back 5 days later and he returned the following week. I was stunned when I saw him. Even with the swelling and bruises; god he looked so much like me, it was like looking in a mirror. These two weeks were his audition so to speak. I figured if he could fool you for two weeks, he could fool anyone."

"I set you up Charles and I'm so sorry but I just wanted to feel like a human again so bad. I told you I was going to be working on my new CD and you've been through that with me before so you knew not to bother me except for occasional meals and helping me sneak out for a long car ride sometimes. He was supposed to call me if there was any problem at all with you or anyone else. I never heard from him so I thought everything was going great. I was so excited; I spent the two weeks buying a cabin up in the mountains and getting it furnished so I could use it as a get-a-way and music studio."

"Today was the end of my two weeks. I was really anxious to get home and find out how things went and God I missed you Charles. I pulled into the driveway and into the far stall in the garage. I took my time to unload all my stuff and I stopped by the laundry room to unload my dirty stuff. I didn't realize how much time I'd taken until I walked into my own house and Charles met me in my hall with a gun. I could not figure out what the hell could have gone so wrong; especially when Charles took one look at me, grabbed his chest and collapsed in the hall. I was trying to get his pills in his mouth when this guy came running through the front door with a gun in his hand. Jesus what's with all you people and your guns. When we were sure that we didn't need to take Charles to the hospital, he suffers from angina, I demanded an explanation."

Brass turned to Nick and said, "Yeah Nick, I wouldn't mind an explanation myself. Why did he call you and how did you get here so fast and what the hell is going on?"

Now it was Nick's turn and he knew he was a terrible liar but he had to pull this off if he wanted to keep on working at a job he loved with people he loved. Nick did not like lying to Jim and Warrick, but he could not explain his fascination with their dead victim. He knew they would not understand his relationship with Charles and he sure as hell did not want them to know about all the time he'd spent at the mansion in the last two weeks.

He took a deep breath and mentally nudged himself into lying mode. "Tonight was my night off. I'd intended to see the new Nicholas Cage movie but I was so damn tired, I slept a lot longer than I meant to. I didn't set an alarm and it was way past midnight when I finally got my sleep out. I checked the theater and thank heavens we live in Las Vegas because they had a showing at 1:45 am. I dressed, ate and took off to see the show. As I was leaving the theater, my cell phone went off. It was Charles and I could hardly hear him. He was talking real low and I finally figured out he was telling me that someone had broken in the garage. He said he couldn't sleep and he heard the door to the garage open and then close. He went down stairs and made sure the door into the house was locked and then called me. I told him to go back to his bedroom and lock the door. Obviously he didn't do it or he wouldn't have been waiting in the hall with a gun."

"I know I should have called you right away but I was just 15 minutes away and I wasn't sure but what he had imagined the door opening. Charles has been having a real hard time since Eric died. He trusted me because I went to the funeral with him and listened to his ideas about Scott Henderson. I didn't make him feel like a senile old fool because he hadn't remembered the incident over the painting until the funeral."

"When I got here, I pulled up to the front door and started up the stairs. I heard loud voices and then someone yelled ‘Charles'. I pulled my gun and got in the house as quick as I could. The rest of it you know except I damn near let Charles die because I was so stunned when I saw my ‘body' bending over him, I never would have been able to find his pills and get them into him."

It was a simple story and he could pretty much confirm all of it. He had seen the movie so he could describe the plot and Warrick knew he never saved his ticket stubs so that would not be a problem.

Jim looked thoughtful and then said slowly, "Okay; that makes sense and Yeah I guess I would have been pretty pissed if you'd called me and ordered out the troops for someone's bad dream. But Nick, if you ever do this to me again, I'll write you up. I swear; do you understand?"

"Yeah, Jim I do and I can't promise I won't do the same thing again but I hope to god we never have another case like this." He turned to Warrick and said, "Rick? Are we okay or are you mad at me too?"

Rick looked at Nick and said, ‘You're damn right I'm mad at you. I swear to God you go out of your way to get yourself in trouble. I'm beginning to think that trying to have your back is a 24/7 job. BUT, I know how you are. You just got to get on that white horse and gallop in when you think someone's in trouble." He turned to Jim and said, "I guess we need to get Mr. Sanders down to the station and take a formal statement."

Jim stood up and said, "Yeah, we have just enough time before the end of shift to get the paperwork started."

Nick stood up and said, "Hey guys, let's not get in a rush here."

"What are you talking about Nick? You know the drill."

"Jim, Rick...this guy was murdered two weeks ago. Whoever did it is still out there. Right now, he thinks he's home free. If we start parading the very dead Eric Sanders through the police station, we're putting a target on his back not to mention throwing away a great chance to maybe catch our killer. Think about it."

Jim and Warrick looked at each other and then Nick and then Eric Sanders. Jim turned away in confusion and Warrick dropped his head in his hands. Both men said, "Shit."

That about covered it.

 

Nick carried in the last load of supplies, dumped them on the big kitchen table and went in and collapsed in one of the deep, comfortable chairs in the main room of the cabin.

"My god, Charles does realize we are only going to be here two weeks at the most doesn't he? I'm assuming there has to be some sort of town within 500 hundred miles of this place where we could get bread and milk if we were dying." Nick was in great physical condition but the last 24 hours had taken a lot out of him and he'd only had a 3 hour nap in the car on the drive up. He was tired, cranky and still trying to wrap his mind around the events of the last day, hell; he still didn't know what had been happening to him for the last two weeks if he was really honest.

"Nick, you ought to know by now that Charles was born to care for people; the more the merrier. He's been taking care of me for the last six years and he's in his own personal heaven now that he's got you too." Eric was a whirlwind of activity. He was stashing things away and folding up paper sacks and sticking the plastic one's in some sort of little ‘thingy' on the back of one of the cupboard doors.

Nick glared at his hyper active cabin mate and said, with some irritation, "Are you always this chipper and happy? God, why don't you feel like you've been run over by a steam roller? I refuse to believe that just eight years apart in age could make that much difference."

"Hey, I just had the best two weeks of my life and I come home to more excitement than I ever could have imagined in my wildest dreams and now, I have another two weeks in heaven with a hot room-mate. Why shouldn't I be happy?"

Nick looked up in alarm at the ‘hot room-mate' remark. "Whoa, just a minute there; remember this could easily be a life or death situation and don't forget the body? You know, the body we thought was you but really couldn't tell because the head had been beaten to a pulp and then removed? Ring any bells for you?"

Eric finished the last of the house-keeping chores, grabbed two ice cold beers out of the big fridge, opened them and came into the main room. He handed one of the open beers to Nick and collapsed bonelessly on the big couch. "Yes, Nick I remember. It's a little hard to forget bunches of people telling you over and over in sickening detail that you've been murdered, buried and no one knows who did it. Pardon me if I don't want to dwell on the pictures in my head and wind up curled in a fetal ball in a corner babbling and playing with my own poop."

Nick took a couple of really big swallows of his beer; Lord that tasted good. "Aw Eric, I'm sorry man. I know this whole thing must be hell for you but I got to tell you; it ain't been no picnic for me either."

Both men sat quietly, drinking their beers and just thinking about everything that had happened since that moment at Eric's house when Warrick and Jim realized just how complicated matters had become. After both men had uttered their heart-felt ‘SHITS' at the same time, Warrick had recovered first. He raised his head, looked at Jim and said, "Damn it Jim; he's right. This may be the only chance we have to find out what really happened. If we take him in now and let the media know he's really alive, this whole town is going to blow wide open. Any chance we have of catching the guy is gone and worst of all, we let him know he failed and if the overkill we saw on that corpse is any indication; this guy is going to be pissed when he finds out he didn't get Sanders."

Jim let out a sigh that could have knocked over anyone standing in front of him at the time and nodded his head in agreement. "You took the words right out of my mouth Rick; but how the hell are we going to keep this secret. We both are going to have to come up with some sort of story about where we've been as it is and we can't let him stay here. This place is like trying to secure a museum."

There was complete silence in the room for some time and then Charles cleared his throat and said, "You know, there is one solution."

There was definite disturbance in the air currents of the room as four heads snapped around towards the quiet, forgotten man sitting in the chair. Evidently the Hennessy Ellipse was not only the most expensive brandy in the world, it was also a miracle drug because Charles was no longer the gray, shrunken man he'd been thirty minutes ago. Now his complexion was its normal color, his eyes were bright and his expression was thoughtful.

Jim said impatiently, "Well, what's the solution? What have you thought up?"

Charles ignored Jim for the moment, instead casting a commanding look at his young employer, friend, and quasi-child. "Eric, you said you purchased a cabin. How exactly did you accomplish that?"

Eric raised an eyebrow and said, "Oh you know Charles; walked in, handed them $25.00, they gave me a key and that was that."

Charles looked at him quietly until Eric stopped grinning and sat up straighter in his chair. "Young man, I don't know if you've noticed or not but there are no reporters or camera people here in this room. Your usual devil-may-care, quick-on-the-retort persona is not only not needed, it's really not wanted. Someone died here; died horribly and part of my heart is in a very expensive casket in the most expensive mausoleum in the state of Nevada. I thought you were dead. I thought my life was over and I was just marking time until I could join you again. Are you ready to act like a grown-up and see if we can right a terrible wrong?"

Nick, Jim and Warrick watched in amazement as Eric Sanders, international, award-winning, celebrity disappeared before their eyes and was replaced by an embarrassed, apologetic young man. A young man who looked as though he was about to get down on his knees and crawl over to the old gentleman sitting in the chair and roll over on his back, put his paws up in the air and offer him his throat. They could see his Adams apple bob as he swallowed and said, "Yes Sir, I'm ready."

"Good! Then I ask you again, exactly how did you purchase the cabin?"

"I went to our bank and had them set up a checking account using funds from our corporate account and marking them as publicity expenses for the set-up of a movie producing company. I had them do it in another bank owned by the same company but operating under another name. I filled out an authorization with our account executive to allow one Terry Whalen, to draw on those funds with no exclusions. Then, when it was all done, I went to the new bank with Terry's ID and a little make-up of my own to make me look ‘off'; not exactly like me but similar. I established myself with them as Terry Whalen. When he and I switched places, I used his ID and the new account to buy and pay for the cabin. It's all completely legal and the deed is filed in the name of our corporation with Terry Whalen as a corporate official authorized to write checks for any amount on that account."

"Well done my boy. I've always said you were more than just another pretty face. There is a devious, conniving brain in that lovely head of yours." Charles was beaming at all of them. "That's the solution gentlemen. Terry and I will spend a few weeks in the mountains while you try to figure out what actually happened here."

Everyone was thrilled with the solution and it was almost a done deal when Charles suddenly gasped and stiffened. Nick knew from the grey pallor that was spreading over his face his heart had gone into arrhythmia again. Eric quickly put two more pills under his tongue and told Nick to call for an ambulance immediately. Charles didn't even have enough breath left to argue. An hour later, he was being admitted to Desert Palms and Jim, Warrick, Nick and Eric were back to square one. What the hell did they do now?


Eric finally said, "You know, his idea was brilliant. Terry could still go back to the cabin for a couple of weeks."

Jim said, "Not by himself he couldn't. He has to have someone with him and with Charles in the shape he's in right now, he can't do it."

Nick cleared his throat hesitantly and said, "I could. I've got my Dallas PD training to fall back on. I still think like a cop and I could not only protect; but with what I've learned from you and Gris about interrogation, I could probably help him remember a lot more that might help us."

Warrick said, "Hell no" just about the time Jim said, "That might work."

Warrick was as livid with rage as a man his mocha color could get. "You have lost your fucking mind Jim. Nick is not going to go off to the mountains for two weeks to protect a guy who got his head beat to a pulp. That is not part of his job description. I know damn it because we do the same job and it's not police work or protection; it's scientific investigation." Warrick was actually spitting he was so furious. All he could see was his best friend, his almost brother being offered up as a sacrifice for a spoiled, kinky rich kid who thought he should have anything he wanted. Well, he wasn't going to get Nick.

Jim said, "Calm down Rick. I'm not about to put Nick in danger or our ‘victim' either. The whole point of this is to make sure no one knows Eric Sanders is alive and well. As long as we are the only ones in on this little brainstorm of ours, Eric and Nick will be completely safe. All I'm worried about is how we are going to get Nick off the radar for two weeks without Catherine having a cow."

As it turned out, it was ridiculously easy. Charles spent 36 hours in Desert Palms until his angina was stabilized then he was allowed to return to his home with round the clock nursing care. One of his personal nurses was a young red-headed guy with slightly buck teeth and a southern twang. He stayed with Charles from 8.00 am until 10.00pm that night. Then he had a night nurse from 10.00 until 8.00 the next morning when Dwight, the red-headed nurse, came back on shift. This worked perfectly for three days until Dwight was suddenly called home on a medical emergency and Charles had to hire two new nurses to replace him.

About the time Charles left Desert Palms, Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown were assigned a 419 at a convenience store about 70 miles out in the middle of nowhere. While there, Nick fell through some rotten boards in a small storage shed out back. Rick and the local sheriff loaded Nick in the car and took him to a local motel where there was a doctor who had checked in a few hours prior. He'd developed car trouble while taking a leisurely motor trip across America and was waiting for the local garage to get a part for his car. The doctor determined that Nick had broken his leg and asked if there was an X-ray machine anywhere close. The little town had a small local clinic that was manned twice a week by a young physician who serviced several small towns not big enough to afford a local physician by themselves but together, the three towns could afford him.

The X-ray showed a compound fracture and the clinic had enough supplies to allow the doctor to set Nick's leg and apply a cast from ankle to hip. Warrick called Nick's folks who spoke with the doctor and arranged for an ambulance to pick Nick up and bring him home to Texas where they could provide the round the clock nursing care Nick would need for the next two weeks.

Warrick called Catherine as soon as he talked with the doctor. Unfortunately Warrick was tired and so worried about his partner; he accidentally pressed Jim's speed number instead. Jim said he would take care of everything.

The final result was, the doctor in the small clinic prepared the necessary medical papers and personally presented them to Conrad Ecklie at the lab the next morning. His car part had come in, his car had been repaired and he didn't mind a small detour to Las Vegas. The papers were in order and Nick Stokes was put on Medical Leave for the next two weeks. Catherine was furious that she and her team were not able to see Nick and make sure he was OK but the doctor assured them, he was more than competent to set a compound fracture and Nick was awake and in good spirits when he was loaded into the ambulance to be taken to his family home.

He also told the team that he was pretty sure the only thing they had to worry about was how spoiled Nick was going to be after coming back from two weeks of being pampered and petted by his loving family. They all had to grin a little at that one having experienced the Stokes clan during Nick's recovery after the Gordon affair. Warrick was the only one who didn't seem to perk up after the doctor's visit but Catherine understood how much Warrick would miss his friend and worry about him.

Of course the whole thing was a hoax from beginning to end. Money can buy anything including a doctor who was more than willing to go along with the scheme. The X-rays were completely authentic; they just weren't Nick's X-rays. Even the dead body was a hoax. It turned out to be a mannequin covered in ketchup. Someone's dumb idea of a joke. Go figure. Oh...and the red-headed nurse...of course that was Eric in disguise. He wanted to spend some time with Charles to reassure both of them that they would get through this and be better when it was all over.

Now, all Nick had to do was protect Eric, keep his raging hormones under control, go through Eric's memories to discover who might want him dead and do it all in the next two weeks. A piece of cake!
* * * * * * * * * *
"Look Eric; let me take a nap and I swear I'll be better company when I'm not so damn tired I feel like the inside of my eyelids are lined with sandpaper." Nick's little speech was almost ruined by the huge yawn he couldn't hold back.

Eric grinned and said, "You want company? I'm pretty tired too and there's only one bedroom."

Nick had been about to get up out of the big easy chair but Eric's remark caught him half way up and he lost his balance. When he fell back down, he missed the chair and landed on his butt on the floor. He just sat there and blinked a few times like a confused owl. "What did you just say to me?"
"Nick, didn't you ever share a bed with your buddies when you were a kid. God, according to Jim you come from a family of seven kids. Surely you know what a sleepover is?"

"Yeah I know what a sleepover is but in case you haven't noticed, both of us are well past the age when we have sleepover's with our buddies."

"Hey, speak for yourself. I have sleepovers all the time and they are a lot of fun." Eric looked down and when he looked back up again, the playfulness was gone from his face and his eyes were dark and haunted. "Besides, I don't sleep so well by myself. I'm running on bennies right now because I haven't been able to sleep except for a few naps with Charles when I was playing ‘Dwight the idiot nurse'. It's like I need the presence of another human to keep the bad guys away. Even Charles did it and he was so weak when he came home from the hospital, he could hardly pull up the sheets."

Nick dropped his head and said quietly, "God damn you Eric. When were you gonna tell me about the one bedroom?"

"Um now? I sure wasn't going to say anything on the way up here. I was afraid you would turn around and make us go back and all I could think about was how free I'd felt up here and how happy. I was desperate to get back up here. Besides, it's not like I'm gonna jump your bones Nick. I get that you're a big, brave, manly man. I can control myself; I just can't sleep alone yet."

Nick raised his head and looked Eric right in the eyes. "You can control yourself; are you sure Eric? Are you sure you can control yourself? What are you gonna do when you wake up and find me wrapped around you like a blanket? How good is your control gonna be when you feel my mouth on your neck and my hand wrapped around your dick? Are you gonna tell me no when you feel my fingers slip inside your tight, hot hole? Are you gonna say stop when I pull your legs up on my shoulders and bury myself so far inside your body you can taste me when I come? Answer me Eric; what are you gonna do?"

Eric just stood there with his mouth open. Nick waited without saying a word. Finally Eric shut his mouth and said, "If any or all of that were to happen; I'd wait till it was over and then assuming I could still move, I'd get down on my knees and Thank God."

Nick still didn't move. He hadn't taken his eyes off Eric since he'd raised his head and started talking. "We're going to bed and we're gonna sleep. Just sleep. We're both too tired to be talking this kind of trash right now. When we both are rested and able to make coherent decisions, we're gonna talk about this again."

Eric had started to say something but Nick raised his hand and effectively shut him up. "Don't even try to say anything right now. I would never have said that to you if I hadn't been dead on my feet. Now that I have, it's like trying to put toothpaste back in the tube; it can't be undone. I'm not saying I lied; just that I shouldn't have said it, but I did and I can't unsay it. But you have to know, I don't do one-night or even two-week stands. I don't get involved with people I know unless it's serious. If I want sex, I go out and find what I need, get it over with and go on with my life. If anything starts between us; its gonna be something serious. Now let's get some sleep."

Nick turned and walked over to the bedroom. He opened the door and went in without one single look back at Eric. Eric just stood there staring at the open doorway. Finally he shook his head and went over to check the locks on the door and turn off the lights. He was muttering to himself as he went around the room; "Yeah sure, Stokes. Let's just talk dirty to me and then tell me to go to sleep. That's a cool plan man. I'm sure I'm going to sleep like a baby after that. You son-of-a-bitch, you look like such a good ole boy and then you drop that on me." He finished closing down the cabin and went into the bedroom. Nick was just coming out of the bathroom. He had stripped down to his t-shirt and a tight fitted pair of navy blue boxer briefs. He smiled at Eric and said, "Bathroom's yours. I didn't bother with a shower; just did a DTA quickie."

Eric frowned at him. "What's a DTA quickie?"

Nick smiled a big, open grin and said, "That's when you run a warm washcloth over your dick, tits and armpits, baby."

Eric just shook his head in amazement. He headed into the bathroom for his own DTA quickie. He stuck his head back out the doorway. Nick was just settling into the big bed with the feather-bed pillow top mattress. He let out a sigh of happiness and settled himself down. Eric said, "Uh, does a DTA quickie include brushed teeth or do I need a clothes pin for my nose?"

Nick looked up at him and said, "I'm a Texas gentleman; it doesn't matter who I'm sharing a bed with I always brush my teeth and use mouthwash."

Eric disappeared back into the bathroom but not before Nick heard a soft "Thank God."

Nick smiled to himself and was almost asleep when he heard the click of the light switch and then felt the covers raise briefly and a warm body slide into the bed and right up against him. He felt an arm and a leg settle across his body and then with one big, happy sigh, Eric went out like a light. Nick was right behind him.
* * * * * * * * * *
It really was funny. After such blunt talk and then spending ten solid hours wrapped around each other; Nick and Eric were shy with each other. When they woke up, Eric was on his left side. Nick was wrapped around him so completely his chin was nestled on his shoulder and his mouth was almost touching Eric's ear. Nick's right arm was across Eric's body and his hand was nestled between Eric's legs holding his limp cock. He would have been a lot more embarrassed if Eric's hand had not been firmly planted over his holding him against him. They peeled themselves apart and Eric went to the kitchen to put on the coffee pot while Nick went in and took a shower. When Nick came into the kitchen, he was dressed in heavy, flannel lined jeans and a long sleeved flannel shirt. His hair was still damp from his shower and the deep lines around his eyes had almost disappeared. He told Eric the bathroom was his and how did he like his eggs. Eric told him he liked his eggs scrambled with stuff in them. Nick took over the breakfast preparation while Greg went to take his shower. When he came back he was in the same outfit as Nick. The two men ate their breakfast with just soft comments about how good the food tasted and what a great cook Nick was. Nick said he had to fix a great breakfast to go with the great coffee Eric had made.

They finished eating, cleaned up the kitchen together and then went to the bedroom together and made their bed and cleaned up the bathroom. Then they came back into the main room and sat down on the couch together. After a minute or two of silence, Eric turned to Nick and said, "I've been thinking ever since I woke up this morning."

Nick turned to Eric, his body automatically assuming the same position. "And have you come to any sort of decision?"

"There was no decision Nick. When I woke up and felt you wrapped around me, when I felt your hand on me and mine over yours holding you against my body, I felt like I feel when I'm with Charles. I felt like I was home, I was right where I belong. I knew I wanted that feeling for the rest of my life. I want everything you have to offer. I want to give you everything I've got to give. I want you to expect the very best from me and I demand the very best you've got to give me. I've never been in love Nick. I feel love for Charles but it's different. My love for Charles is what I would have given a father if I'd had one. What I feel for you is scary. It makes my heart ache and my body burn. It makes me want to just go down on my knees to you and offer you everything/anything you want. If that's love, then that's what I'm offering you."

Nick took a deep breath. What Eric had said was in one way, the answer to all his dreams and in another, the most terrifying thing he'd ever heard. He knew he'd just heard honesty and he better be willing to give back as good as he'd got.

"Eric, I'm forty years old, almost forty-one. I make $63,500.00 a year. I love what I do and I don't want to stop doing it. I feel like I make a difference and I need to keep on feeling that. You're a world famous celebrity and you probably have spent more than I make on one shopping trip. I can't begin to give you anything. I can't support you or take care of you. I can't even afford to buy you a tie that you would wear in public." Nick stopped for a moment.

Eric looked at him with tears in his eyes and said, "Do you really think I care about any of that or is that your way of letting me down easy? Don't you know, you're supporting me right now and you're taking care of me? Nick I can make money, my God can I ever make money. I can't make someone love me just me. I can't make someone want me; a guy with moles on his face and body who feels like a geeky freak. Is my money all you can see about me; I'll give it all away if that's what you want?"

Nick scooted over next to Eric and put his arms around him. He pulled him against him and held him close. "No that's not all I see about you, you idiot. I see the most beautiful man in the whole world. I see a funny guy who thinks his adopted dad looks like he's having an orgasm when he drinks his favorite brandy. I see someone I want to hold and kiss and make love to for the rest of my life. I want to play with you and love with you and live with you from now on. I just want you to know, we are two separate people with two very different, separate lives and as much as I love you and believe me, I'm willing to live or die for you; I will never be your ‘house husband'. I have no problem living in your house or staying at your cabin but I won't give up my job, I won't even skip a shift at work to go to one of your concerts."

Eric raised his head and said quickly, "Would you trade a shift with a co-worker to come?"

Nick looked at him and then laughed out loud. "Yes you freak-a-zoid, I will trade a shift to come see you."

"Okay, then we have the basics covered. Now, how about you say something really sweet to me."

"Like what, like you have the most gorgeous chocolate brown eyes?"

"That's a start."

"I love your moles. I can hardly wait to find the rest of them."

"Keep going."

"Your mouth almost made me come in my pants the first time I saw your portrait."

"Nick, I'm going to hurt you severely. Tell me what I want to hear."

Nick looked at Eric and then smiled. "I love you with all my heart. We can make this work as long as we remember that when the day is over and we shut our bedroom door, we're just Eric and Nick and the only thing we really own is our love for each other. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Oh yes. Now just kiss me for the next couple of hours and then we'll see where we go from there."

 

Nick felt like he'd been born to sit in that one spot on that particular couch holding one special man in his arms and kissing him until they both were dizzy. When Eric said to kiss him for the next couple of hours, Nick thought that was just talk and after one kiss, Eric would drag him off to the bedroom but evidently when he said a couple of hours, that's just exactly what he meant.

Of course it hadn't been a couple of hours but it had been at least 30 minutes and Eric showed no signs of wanting to rush anything. Nick was surprised, not sorry but definitely surprised. Eric had struck him as the kind of guy who wanted what he wanted when he wanted it. Now he was really sure Eric wanted him; he just didn't seem to be in a hurry to get to the main event.

Nick pulled back and looked at the man he was holding. Eric had a little smile on his face and his lips were red and a little swollen from Nick's nips and nibbles. Nick was willing to bet his were too. Eric was not only a good kisser; he certainly was an enthusiastic one. When Eric realized that Nick wasn't just grabbing some much needed oxygen, he opened his eyes to see what his lip-lock partner was up to.

"What are you doing Nick?" Eric laid his head back on the couch and looked at Nick.

Nick smiled at him and said, "I was just thinking."

"Thinking, when I'm plying you with my all-time best kisses. I've been keeping some of those things on reserve since I was thirteen years old and you're thinking! I'm crushed; really crushed."

"You needn't be; I'm thinking about you and nothing else."

"Well, perhaps I can find it in my heart to forgive you but it all depends on what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking that if you keep on surprising me, I'm gonna keep you for the rest of our lives and I'm wondering where you all of a sudden got all this patience from and I'm thinking that if the dictionary came with pictures, there would be one of you the way you look right now next to the words alluring and wanton and sensuous and sexy and....."

Nick was interrupted by a warm pair of lips molding to his and swallowing the rest of his words. There was silence...well you could call it silence it you ignored the soft pants and moans. Suddenly there was the sound of two sets of lungs pulling in a deep breath. "Wow; that was nice and unexpected. Was I talking too much for you?"

"Not at all; it's what you were saying. It just needed some sort of gesture on my part and since I've got both hands occupied and couldn't applaud and yell Bravo, a kiss had to do." Eric was right on the money about his hands being occupied. That was another thing that had surprised and delighted Nick. Eric was the most tactile person he'd ever met. From the moment they had started their make-out session on the couch, Eric's hands had been in almost constant motion. He played with Nicks hair; sometimes running his fingers through it and sometimes just fastening both hands in his hair; not pulling to hurt just sort of using it to move Nick's head or hold it where he wanted. He touched Nick's mouth and ran his fingertips over his lips and sometimes when they were kissing, he would use his fingertips to trace around their joined lips. He ran his hands over Nick's back and shoulders and arms. It was as though he wanted to touch and feel and memorize every piece of him and Nick loved it.

Nick looked into those beautiful, dark, eyes and asked Eric if he was interested in maybe adding some new activities to their present situation. Eric let go of Nick and stood up so fast, Nick fell back against the couch. Eric was standing there with a big grin on his face and his arms out to the side and raised to shoulder height. "Do with me what you will Mr. Police Man. I'm all yours."

Nick stood up and looked at this new toy of his and thought to himself, My God if he ever realizes how crazy I am about him, I'll be completely at his mercy. With no warning at all, he stepped forward, grabbed Eric, threw him over his shoulder and headed for their bedroom to see how much damage they could do to their nicely made bed. Eric was yelling and squirming and asking Nick where he got the idea he could just haul him off to his cave.

Nick reached up and slapped the nicely squirming ass. He hit him hard because Eric had on flannel lined jeans just like he did and he wanted him to feel it and stop shifting around. Eric stopped at once and said, "Oh great, I'm spending two weeks alone in the woods with a Neanderthal who's into mild...it is mild isn't it...S&M."

Nick dropped him on their big, comfy bed and grinned what could only be described as a ‘feral' grin. "I don't know; how far do you want to go?"

Eric looked at that grin and thought if Nick opened his mouth and showed fangs, he wouldn't be surprised at all. "I feel like I should say something like ‘What big teeth you have'."

Nick smiled and if possible, looked even more dangerous. "That would be fitting because I'm sure there's going to be some eating going on before I'm through with you. I know there's gonna be some tasting." The bulge in the front of Eric's jeans got even more noticeable and Nick knew he had one to match. He backed up just a little and just stood there looking at Eric. Eric had not moved from where Nick had dropped him. His mouth was open and he was breathing hard. His skin was flushed and altogether he looked like sex on a platter. Nick deliberately let his hand move down his body and Eric's eyes followed his hand like a tracking device. Nick rubbed his fingers over his erection, pressing the material down around it so Eric could see the size of his package. His partner licked his lips and it was pretty obvious he was imagining licking something else. Nick reached down and grabbed both Eric's hands and pulled him up off the bed.

Eric's voice was a little higher than normal but steady when he asked, "What do you want me to do Nick?"

Nick leaned in and gently licked his mouth and sucked on his bottom lip for a second. "I want you to undress me, very slowly."

Eric took a deep breath and said, "I can do that, yeah I can do that."

It was not a sure thing though because his hands were shaking and he wondered if he would be able to actually unbutton Nick's shirt. What he really wanted to do was rip the damned thing off and just crawl all over him.

He started at the top button and undid it slowly. Nick had on silk thermal underwear under his shirt as did Eric so even though he popped the button, he didn't get to bare skin. What he did though was pretty sensual. As the material parted and the silk top came into view, Eric leaned forward and put his mouth against the silk and exhaled slowly. As his hot breath soaked into the silk material, it dampened and Nick jerked. It was a very controlled jerk but it was there. Eric continued all the way down to the bottom of his shirt slowly pulling it out of his jeans to undo the bottom two buttons. Then he picked Nick's hand up and took two of his fingers in his mouth. He looked directly in Nick's eyes as he sucked and licked the fingers letting his tongue curl around and between them. He unbuttoned the cuff as he was making love to Nick's finger tips. Then he repeated the actions on the other hand. He walked around behind Nick and slipped his arms around his shoulders grabbing the open sides of his shirt. He slowly, oh so slowly, slipped the shirt back off Nick's shoulders and down his arms making sure his hands were as flat against Nick's body as possible as he slid the material all the way down and off his body.

Then he reached down while still behind Nick and slowly unbuckled his belt. He carefully pulled the open belt out of the belt loops. He did it so slowly, you could hear the little ‘snick' as the belt slid through each loop. He undid the top button on his jeans and then while still behind him, he slid the zipper down. He slid one hand down Nick's stomach flat against the silk material of his long-johns so his hand was between the zipper and the silk material. The zipper slid down smoothly all the way to the bottom. He walked around in front of Nick and knelt down in front of him. Neither of them were wearing their boots inside so all he had to do was lift Nick's foot and remove his heavy, lamb's wool-lined slipper
and then his sock. He repeated the action on the other foot; then he reached up and slid Nick's jeans down and off first one leg and then the other. He didn't let Nick see the little smile on his face when he noticed there was a wet spot on the front of Nick's silk underwear.

He got back up and slid his hands down inside Nick's pants and got the hem of his top and began to slowly pull it up out of his pants. He almost rolled it up his body using his mouth as he went to taste and lick and nip at the smooth skin exposed. When he got the shirt up around Nick's armpits, he looked up in his eyes and caught his breath. Nick's eyes were normally a soft dark brown but right now the pupils were so distended with lust, they were almost black. He deliberately moved in until his mouth was almost touching Nick's, licked his lips and said, "Raise your arms baby."

Nick didn't say anything; in fact he hadn't spoken at all since he'd told Eric to undress him. He raised both arms and let Eric pull the top off. All he was wearing now was his silk long-johns, which had a much larger wet spot on the front and a look of desire that made Eric's mouth water.

Eric reached down and took the top of his one remaining piece of clothing and slowly began to pull it down. As he pulled the pants down, he let his body sink back down to the floor. Since he had never moved back from Nick, he was sliding down his body and as his erection was freed Eric pulled back just enough to let it spring out from Nick's body. He moved back but still stayed so close; the wet tip of the dick was sliding down his chest. He started to take the beautiful thing in his mouth but Nick moved for the first time and put his hand over his cock. Eric looked up at him in surprise and started to say something but Nick just smiled and shook his head no.

Eric finished taking the bottoms off and sat back on his haunches. He looked at the amazing body standing there in front of him. He thought Nick was the most delectable thing he'd ever seen and he knew he was going to go crazy if he didn't get to touch and taste soon.

Nick turned away from Eric, leaned over and pulled the top covers back. If Eric thought the front was sensational, the sight of Nick's gorgeous butt made his dick feel like it was about to jump right out of his pants. Nick crawled into the bed, made himself comfortable, propped himself up on the pillows and said, "Now, do exactly the same thing to yourself."

Eric thought to himself that if he ever did get his hands, mouth, tongue, teeth...whatever on Nick, he was going to make him suffer. It took him a while to get himself under control enough to do his own strip tease but at last he was unwrapped and standing there completely naked. His cock was dripping on the rug he was so ready. Nick was no longer even trying to pretend he was not as aroused as Eric. He reached out his hand to Eric. Eric walked over to the bed slowly and started to crawl in the bed with Nick but Nick stopped him and said, "Let me look just one more second."

Eric stood up straight with his hands at his sides and just stood there. Nick licked his lips and said, "Turn around."

Eric turned very slowly. He stopped when his back was to Nick. He knew his body was not as muscled as Nick's but he had a different body type. He was long and lean with smooth graceful muscles. He knew he had a good butt; well defined, high with round butt cheeks that probably looked like rosy apples right about now as hot as he was. He deliberately began to clench his butt cheeks; first one and then the other. He heard Nick suck in his breath and let out a small strangled moan. He did not turn. He stood there and slid his hands back around until he could grab his butt. He very slowly pulled the cheeks apart and began to lean forward as he did. Nick broke then. He let out a strangled gasp and said, "Baby, come here to me."

Eric turned and quickly crawled into the warm hollow. Nick's arms' went around him and he pulled the covers up around them. He gathered Eric up into his arms and pressed their bodies so close together they were sharing a breath. Their cocks were rubbing together in perfect harmony with their tongues. As they fucked each other's mouth, their hands instinctively reached down between them and wrapped around their erections. They found their rhythm with no problem at all and began to move together. Nick broke away from Eric's mouth and said in a voice that was almost unrecognizable, "Is this OK with you? Can we do it like this?"

Eric had to concentrate; first to understand what Nick was asking and then to say, "God yes. This is too perfect to stop now. Just keep doing exactly what you're doing."

Nick let out an almost strangled little chuckle and began to rub his thumb across the head of Eric's cock. "Is it Ok if I add this or did you mean EXACTLY what I was doing?"

Eric never knew where he found the presence of mind to tell Nick that God does not like a smart ass. That was the last coherent thing he said until he let out a loud, "Oh My God, Nick."

After that, there was just a constant chant of Nick's name until one final cry which Nick swallowed with a hot wet kiss. Almost immediately, Nick threw his head back and almost yelled Eric's name. Their movements slowed and finally stopped. They lay together in a lazy afterglow. They were both a little sweaty and neither one cared. Nick asked Eric if he needed to go to the bathroom or wanted to get the spunk off him. Eric hummed with contentment and said he wasn't moving for a while. Nick smiled, pulled him even closer and said, "Good. I love being stuck to you with cum."
* * * * * * * * * *
All though both of them had slept well they still fell asleep again wrapped up in each other. When they woke, they really were stuck together. Eric started to pull back and Nick let out a somewhat unmanly yelp. Eric stopped and asked him what was wrong.

"Damn, I just had a hair pulled out by the roots; that's what's wrong!"

"Well, if you didn't have so much curly black pubic hair, you wouldn't have to worry. Just how long has it been since you unloaded anyway? I swear you shot a cup full of cream on me."

"Hey, I wasn't the only one contributing to the mess. I felt some thick hot stuff spilling over my hand too you know."

"Okay, we both really enjoyed ourselves. Now how are we gonna get unstuck without you being scalped, so to speak." Eric couldn't help but grin at their, well mostly Nick's predicament. He had a small line of hair leading from his belly button down to his dick but Nick was fuzzier that he was so he was going to be hurting the most.

Eric tried to hid his grin but Nick caught it and started scowling at him. "Damn it Eric, this isn't funny."

"Hey! Wasn't it you who was going on about how much he loved being stuck to me just a little while ago?"

Nick looked into the brown eyes so close to him and couldn't help but smile. "Yeah that was me and I still say; it was worth it. Come on baby, let's bite the bullet and just go for it."

Eric put his arms around his bed-mate and gave him a sweet, sloppy kiss and said, "Just hold on there macho man. I've got an idea. I'm the closest to the edge of the bed so lets role over so you're on top."

"Okay, then what?"

"Well then, we start working our way over to the edge of the bed and get our legs over the edge until we get our feet on the floor. Then you use those gorgeous muscles of yours to get us both in an upright position and we slow dance our way into the shower."

Nick looked at his extra body part and said, "You know, Charles was right. You do have a brain in that beautiful head of yours. Okay, here we go."

It took some doing but they made it all the way into the shower and let the hot water dissolve the gummy mess and wash it off their bodies. After they got separated, the shower went from a necessity to an indulgence. Nick squirted some of the melon scented body wash Eric had brought onto a sponge and began to wash Eric. Eric relaxed and let Nick move him around like a puppet. Nick took his time and washed all of him carefully. When he finished with his body, arms and legs, he put the sponge back in the soap dish, squirted some more body wash into his hands and began to wash Eric's groin. He carefully rubbed his hands up and down the length of his growing erection. Just when Eric was ready to think he was going to have to come just to keep from exploding, Nick moved his hands down to his balls and then back to his butt. He ran his hands all over Eric's ass and then let his fingers slide between his cheeks and rub over his tightly, puckered hole. Eric let his head drop back against the tile wall and moaned his pleasure and want. Suddenly Nick's hands were gone and he found himself pulled under the warm water. Nick was carefully rinsing all the soap off him. After he was clean, Nick smiled and handed him the sponge and body wash and said, "Now it's my turn. I got you all squeaky clean, now you get me." And damn him, he turned his back on Eric and leaned against the wall. When Eric just stood there, Nick looked over his shoulder at him and said, "You do know how to bathe another human being don't you?"

Eric glared at Nick's smooth, silky back and thought, Oh you are so asking for it Cowboy.

"Yeah Nicky, I know how to bathe someone."

Eric gave Nick the most sensual bath of his life. He used the sponge like a weapon. He teased Nick's nipples and rubbed the sponge around his throat until he had Nick shivering under his hands. Then he put the sponge up and used his hands just like Nick had done but he was out for blood, so to speak. He ran his hands up and down Nick's erection, letting the tip of one finger rub into the slit in the head at the same time his other hand was rolling Nick's balls around inside his sack. He turned Nick around and put his hands up on the wall; then he began to rub his fingers over the smooth, slick skin between his ball sack and his hole. He used the other hand to probe between Nick's tight ass cheeks for the sweet treasure he knew he would find there. When his finger ran across the tight opening, Nick let out a soft ‘Ahhhh'. He kept up a steady rhythm with both hands always in motion but sometimes he fingered Nick's tight hole and sometimes he pulled gently on his balls. He kept Nick off balance and just when Nick was ready to turn around and grab him, he slipped one finger inside his body. He slide in all the way and started rotating his finger looking for Nick's pleasure spot. It was so easy to find and Nick let him know he really liked the discovery. He kept stroking, pulling his finger out and adding another before he entered his body again. Nick hit the tile wall with his hands, turned around and grabbed Eric by his upper arms. He kissed him frantically and then pulled away and said, "We need to get out of here. I'm not going to fuck you up against a tile wall with a soap dish in my ass. I need to calm down and we need to get back in or on a flat surface.

Neither one of them ever remembered exactly how they got out of the shower, got dried off and back in bed but somehow they did and Nick started an oral exploration of Eric's body that had him squirming and whining in no time. When Nick groaned out loud and stopped, Eric opened his eyes, looked up and saw Nick with his head hanging down on his chest. "What's the matter? Why did you stop? For God's Sake Nick, you can't stop now."

"Eric, we need stuff to do this. I didn't bring any lube or condoms. I wasn't thinking about sex when we came up here just trying to keep you safe. Hell; how was I to know the only person you'd be in danger from was me?"

"Well you may not have been thinking about sex but that's about all I've been able to think about since I walked in my den and saw you on my couch with my pictures next to you and your hand down your pants. Look in the side drawer there."

Nick reached over and pulled the drawer out. It was full of condoms, several kinds and several bottles and tubes of lube. He grabbed the first bottle he could reach, snagged a condom and went right back to his licking and sucking as though nothing had happened.

Eric looked down at him in amazement and said, "Damn I like a man who keeps his mind on his work."

Nick looked up at him and deliberately pulled his dick up and tickled the head with the tip of his tongue. "Then why aren't you concentrating on what I'm doing to you?"

Eric started to answer him and Nick took him all the way down his throat. Eric arched up off the bed and let out a sound very close to the one a tea kettle makes when it reaches the boiling point. "Holy Mary Mother of God. Jesus Christ Almighty. Oh my good God; what are you trying to do to me?"

Nick pulled off his cock with an exaggerated slurp. "Get you so hard and so hot for me you won't mind at all when I pull your legs up over my shoulders and fuck that sweet ass of yours into the middle of next week."

Eric never knew if he answered Nick because his cock was swallowed again up to the hilt and Nick was swallowing around it and Eric knew he was going to die right then and there except that Nick pulled off him again, pulled his legs up, draped them over his shoulders and slid inside him. It hurt. Nick was big and no matter how hot he was, when something that large breaches the anal sphincter, it's a little uncomfortable. Hell it was more than uncomfortable. He felt like he'd been fisted with no preparation. Not that he ever had but that had to be the way it would feel. Nick stopped moving once he was in up to his balls and just held Eric's legs up against him and rubbed his ass gently.

When Eric finally was able to open his eyes, Nick was looking at him with a small smile on his face. "Are you okay?" Eric couldn't talk but he sort of nodded. "I'm where I want to be finally. I can stay like this for a while so when you are ready, just start moving a little and we'll go for a ride together." Eric looked at Nick's handsome face and realized this man was his completely. He might be the one on the bottom with a telephone pole up his ass, but he had this beautiful man right where he wanted him and he was never going to let him go. He looked into brown eyes so much like his own, smiled and said, "Yippee-Ki-yay Cowboy."

He would remember that ride for the rest of his life. Nick didn't seem to care whether he ever came. He remembered sobbing for him to let him come but Nick just smiled at him and held the base of his cock so he couldn't orgasm. He begged him to stop for a minute but Nick kept stroking in and out of his body; sometimes short fast strokes and sometimes long, slow, deep thrusts that raked across his prostate and made him scream at first and then finally he couldn't any more. When he knew he was going to be fucked to death and had decided it was going to be a wonderful way to go, Nick let go of his aching cock, let his legs down off his shoulders and reached under him. His big hands spread Eric's cheeks apart and began to squeeze them and push them together. Eric came so hard it hurt. He was well out of it when Nick spilled into the condom and slowly straightened out his legs and gently dropped down to one side so his whole weight wasn't on Eric. Nick pulled out only to get rid of the used condom. He tied it off and learning from the last time, grabbed one of their towels off the foot of the bed and used it to wipe Eric's cum off both of them before he laid back down and gathered his limp partner into his arms and closed his eyes.

Both men had the same smile on their face but neither one was conscious enough to notice.

 

The two weeks Nick and Eric spent at the cabin in the mountains would stay in Nick's mind for the rest of his life. It was chaos, it was heaven, it was complete upheaval and it was perfection.

When he woke up from his second nap of the day with Eric wound around him like an ace bandage, he blinked for a few moments and then he smiled and let out a long, deep sigh. To wake up after making love the way they had and to have his partner so close against him he could feel his chest move when he breathed, had to be the best feeling in the world. The frosting on the cake was; they had absolutely nothing they had to do and no place they had to be. He could just lay there and luxuriate in the feel of the comfortable mattress and the soft silken sheets and Eric's skin. Eric's skin was softer than any sheet Nick had ever slept on.

He let his hand slide down Eric's silky back and down to the curve of his ass. He started to gently move one finger between the tight cheeks but he noticed two things. The first was the way Eric sighed and moved even closer to him when he touched him and the other was the soft whimper and twitch of his ass. Nick realized that he might be ready for round two but Eric's butt wasn't.

He immediately withdrew his finger and let his hand slide back up to Eric's shoulder. He could wait. He had all the time in the world. He wasn't about to spoil this heaven on earth by making his partner uncomfortable. Nick really wanted to lay there like that for the rest of his life but unfortunately, his bladder had other ideas. He began to try to free himself from Eric's octopus-like grip on him which was not easy. He finally figured that if he slipped one of the pillows in Eric's arms, he might be able to make his get-a-way. It took a while but he finally was on his feet. Eric had a death grip on the pillow and was rubbing his cheek against the soft pillowcase, the way he had done on Nick's chest. Nick bent down, smoothed his hair off his forehead and gently kissed his cheek.
* * * * * * * * * *
After his trip to the bathroom, Nick was too awake to crawl back into bed with Eric so he headed for the kitchen to see about some solid food. He found a beautiful pork loin in the freezer and moved it to the fridge to thaw. The loin would not be ready to prepare today so he investigated some more and found a package of ground sirloin in the meat keeper. He smiled and started looking further. Yep, everything he needed to make some killer tacos and he even found a bag of avocado's in the pantry. Oh Yeah...tacos, guacamole, salsa and cold beer. It just doesn't get any better than that...well except for the great roast loin of pork he would make tomorrow. Nick, like so many men, loved to cook. He had a natural aptitude for it and Lupe, the Stokes family cook had spent many happy hours passing her skills and recipes on to the youngest (and as far as she was concerned, the cutest) member of the Stokes family.

He prepared all the condiments for the tacos, chopping extra tomatos and onions for the guacamole. When everything was ready except for the cooking of the meat, he decided to look around his home away from home for the next couple of weeks.

The cabin was spacious but really quite simple. There was the kitchen; a perfect mixture of stainless steel efficiency and warm, wooden comfort. There was the main or great room. This was a really large room with high ceilings with big wooden beams. There was a big, stone-faced fireplace with something Nick thought he recognized but surely, it couldn't be. He walked over and sure enough, the fireplace was equipped with a long, iron arm that could be swiveled out so an iron pot could be hung on the end and then swiveled back into the fire. Nick had seen the same thing in his grandparent's fireplace in Texas and he knew that beans or stew or chili cooked in one of those pots in the heat of an open fire was food fit for the Gods. He was thinking about going outside when he thought he heard a noise from the bedroom.

He pushed the door open carefully in case Eric was still sleeping and almost laughed out loud. Eric was sort of sitting up in the bed glaring down at the pillow he was still holding in his arms. He had a confused scowl (if there was such a thing) on his face. Nick knew as sure as if he'd said it out loud that Eric was trying to figure out why he was hugging a pillow and not a sexy CSI.

"Some thing missing?" he almost spoiled his remark by laughing out loud.

"How did you get away from me? I thought I had enough arms and legs wrapped around you to keep you captive until I woke up."

"You did; but us CSI's are sneaky critters; especially those of us from Texas." Nick walked on into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. Eric scooted over until he was against Nick's side and dropped his head down on his shoulder. His lips latched onto Nick's neck and he let out a happy hum when he tasted him. Nick dropped his head back to allow Eric easy access to him and Eric's hum changed to a happy moan as he began to kiss and gently suck on the soft flesh.

Nick caught his breath. He was amazed at his body's reaction. He was almost 41 and he was getting hard just like a teenager with raging hormones. Okay, so his hormones were still capable of raging but damn, he shouldn't be getting an instant hard-on that easy. He pulled back a little and smiled down at Eric. He dropped a kiss on the eager mouth so close to his. "Don't let that sexy mouth of yours start something your poor, sore butt isn't able to finish."

Eric looked at him and said with a cute little leer, "What makes you think my butt isn't gonna be able to finish, cowboy?"

"Because that cute little butt of yours got reamed pretty bad....."

"Good."

"Huh, what do you mean good?"

"My butt got reamed pretty good. I was there remember. That qualified as a world class reaming."

Nick kissed Eric deeply and thoroughly.

"What was that for?" Eric said when he got his breath back.

"Well like you said earlier. Some things just require some sort of gesture and I thought you deserved one as a thank you for the great evaluation. But I still say, good or bad, baby that butt of yours got reamed and it needs a period of recuperation. So don't be licking on me till you can keep up your end...so to speak."

"Ohh Stokes; that was a lousy pun and I think I should be allowed to decide for myself what my ass is or is not...up to."

"You should huh," Nick said as he laid Eric back down on the bed and proceeded to try to suck the air out of his lungs. While he had Eric completely engrossed in their passionate lip lock, he slid his hand down his back and again and as he had earlier, he slid one finger between his cheeks and gently touched his puckered hole. Eric broke the kiss with a sharp hiss of pain. Nick dropped a kiss on his chin and said, "Yeah, you really should be making that decision, shouldn't you?"

Eric glared at Nick and said, "Damn I hate it when you're right. Okay, so my butt does need a small period of down time so to speak. But that doesn't mean we can't do other things does it?"

"Other things...Like what other things do you want to do? You give me a few examples and maybe we'll see if I can fit them into my busy schedule."

Eric looked at Nick and said, "Oh you are in so much trouble Stokes. I think I already told you God doesn't like a smart ass. And you are being a top drawer smart ass right now. Just because you're good in bed doesn't mean I have to put up with that smart mouth of yours."

Nick leaned over and gently ran the tip of his tongue over Eric's lips. Eric opened his mouth and tried to grab Nick's tongue but he was faster and pulled back before Eric could do more than just touch their tongues together. "I bet you money; some of those examples of yours involve my smart mouth on various parts of your anatomy so you better be treating this mouth of mine with loving care. Now get up and get some clothes on. I hope you like tacos and guacamole because I've almost got it ready to go on the table and then let's do some exploring."

Eric was still grumbling when Nick pulled him up and sent him off to the bathroom. He started to swat him on his behind but changed his mind when he remembered the little hiss of pain he'd let out when he'd just brushed his finger across his abused opening. Nick got up and headed for the kitchen to start the ground sirloin for the tacos. He thought maybe he ought to be a little ashamed of himself for being so aggressive with Eric the first time they had sex together but all he could think about was the look on his lover's face when he'd said "Yippee-Ki-yay Cowboy." He knew as fierce as their feelings were for each other, it probably couldn't have happened any other way. Maybe after they were a little more sure of each other, they could slow down and take their time but for right now, the passion was too hot, too extreme. Nick swore he would be more careful next time and after all, he was almost 15 years older than Eric; he could not perform at that level on a regular basis. Nature would put an automatic brake on their wild sex so he might as well enjoy it while he could.
* * * * * * * * * *
It had been almost 8 days since Nick just assumed Nature would slow him down and so far, he showed no signs. He had that morning accused Eric of slipping Viagra or something like that in his food. He was in a state of almost perpetual heat. He could not keep his hands, his mouth or his dick off his room-mate and thank the dear lord; Eric seemed to be just as insatiable as he was.

They had made love everywhere in and out of the cabin. After they had their dinner that first day, they had gone investigating. They had wandered around outside checking out the perimeter of the property. Nick checked the big SUV over and started the engine to make sure the battery was charged up. It was a magnificent site for a cabin. The back of the cabin looked out over what appeared to be hundreds of miles of trees and snow drifts. There was not another building within sight for as far as the eye could see and since the air was so clear, they could see for a long way.

Eric was like a little kid showing off the cabin to Nick. He took him to the back of the house and pulled aside what Nick had thought was just a really beautiful woven blanket used as a wall hanging. The blanket concealed a locked door. When Eric unlocked the door and pulled Nick through, he was on a screened in porch that was fitted with storm windows, a small wood-burning stove and a bubbling hot-tub. Nick was stunned. He had no idea the room was there. He asked Eric if he had any more surprises up his sleeve. Eric slipped his arms around his waist and told him he had not looked in the big barn yet. They would do that tomorrow because the sun had already dropped behind the mountains and it was getting dark and cold. He asked Nick if he felt like whomping up the little stove on the porch or if he just wanted to turn on the electric heat while they enjoyed relaxing in the tub. Nick went back into the living room and brought a big armful of kindling and a few larger logs and within the half-hour, he had the little room so warm, it was almost a necessity to slip out of their clothes and into the tub.

While Nick was getting the stove going, Eric had gone to the kitchen and brought back a wine bucket on a stand filled with ice cubes and a bottle of wine sticking out of the stand. He had two champagne flutes in his other hand. He set up their wine service and then went back to the kitchen. Nick was beginning to wonder where he was when he showed up with a platter of cheese and crackers. On another big platter he had fruit, chocolates and a bowl of mixed nuts.

Nick started to tease him about being a bottomless pit because he had eaten tacos and guacamole at dinner until Nick thought he was going to bust. Then Nick realized that had been almost four hours ago. They had been exploring outside and tromping through the deep snow and come to think of it, he'd worked up an appetite also. As he watched Eric set the trays on the wooden deck surrounding the tub and then slip out of his clothes, he realized he'd worked up an appetite for the beautiful naked man looking at him with a smile on his face and a semi-erection.

Eric held out his hand and said, "Are you ready to join me handsome. I'll show you a real good time even if my ass isn't open for business yet."

Nick laughed out loud and thought that he did that a lot with Eric; just laugh at the sheer joy of being with this man. He stripped off his socks and walked over to join Eric.

Eric was right; Nick had a great time and didn't miss Eric's gorgeous butt one single bit. After all; when you have a warm wet mouth wrapped around your dick and a tongue that should have been declared illegal in any state, teasing and licking in your slit, you had no business thinking about anything else.
* * * * * * * * * *
That had been the first 24 hours at the cabin. It had been like that every day since. Nick was only partially joking about the Viagra. Logic told him it was impossible for him to perform at the levels he had been since that first day. He seemed to be ready at the drop of a hat or pants as the case may be. The days blended into a blur of sex and happiness greater than anything Nick had ever imagined. He and Eric had explored the big barn the next day and found treasures beyond belief. Two snowmobiles, snowshoes, cross country ski's, their area was too wooded for down hill sking but cross country was very doable. Nick had found an almost brand new chain saw in a case and a very expensive axe and shims. Eric had no idea what they were so Nick explained to him they were all he needed to make sure they had firewood for as long as they wanted to stay. Eric's response scared Nick to death.

He'd leaned against Nick's shoulder and said, "Good, then we can stay here forever...well, we can as soon as we figure out how to keep the fridge stocked." The remark scared Nick because he was thinking he never wanted to leave the mountain and this beautiful, smart, funny man he loved so very much.

Nick was conscientious about working with Eric to uncover any other suspects in his murder. Jim and Warrick were in a catch-22 back at the lab. Because the five of them; Nick, Eric, Charles, Jim and Warrick were the only people who knew the dead man was Terry Whalen and there was no way they could tell anyone else, they couldn't work the case as though the body was Terry Whalen. As far as everyone else knew, Eric Sanders was still very dead and there were no clues what-so-ever to his killer. They had been able to get some info on Terry Whalen by reporting that Charles had thought of his name but they couldn't seem to find Terry Whalen to bring him in for questioning. Talk about a vicious circle!

Every day Nick and Eric settled down and talked about Eric's past. To keep it from being too clinical, they decided they would just ask each other questions and that way they would both get to know each other better.

Nick talked about his life as the youngest of seven and Eric talked about growing up in one foster home after another. His mother had been a whore. Nick had asked him how he knew she was a prostitute and Eric corrected him. His mother had NOT been a prostitute; you had to have a certain amount of class to be a prostitute. His mother had been a five dollar whore. He was taken away from her at the age of four. He vaguely remembered being locked in their shit hole of an apartment with her after she had been beaten almost to death by one of her ‘clients'. He had no idea how long he'd been there but his bawling had irritated the neighbors and they had finally called the cops to shut up the screaming brat next door.

Nick never knew who he was comforting; him or Eric. He had held him in his arms and just kissed him and told him how much he loved him and how wonderful he was and how happy he made him. They had stayed curled together on the couch for a long time after that little session. Nick had reported a short version of the story to Jim. When they talked the next time, Jim was so angry Nick had trouble understanding him until he realized Jim was talking through clenched teeth. He'd used Eric's professional bio to find out where he'd been born, (San Gabriel, California). Then he'd worked his way through the San Gabriel on-line files dating from Eric's birth year. He'd caught a big break because San Gabriel had gotten a huge government grant and used a large portion of it to put every record they had on-line in a gigantic data base. He'd found the incident. A four year old male child had been found by police in a filthy apartment with the body of his dead mother. She had been badly beaten and had drowned in her own blood. As near as they could figure, the child had been there with her body for six days. He'd drank water out of the toilet and eaten some crackers and dried, raw macaroni. That was all he'd had for at least 4 days. He was placed in foster care and eventually disappeared into the black hole that was child placement in these United States.

Nick made slow, sweet love to Eric all that night after he talked to Jim.
* * * * * * * * * *
It wasn't all tears and sorrow. Eric told Nick some stories about his start as a musician that had him rolling on the floor. It seems that Eric's first experience with dope was also his last. He was just barely 15 years old and playing piano with a group in a San Fernando Valley dive. Nick had interrupted him and said, "Hey, I thought San Fernando was where all the movie folks lived. Where did you find a dive?"

Eric grinned at him and said, "Nicky, you of all people ought to know by now, if there is a dive to be found...I will find it. Now can I continue?"

Nick threw some popcorn at him and told by all means to enlighten him on the seamy side of life among the rich and famous.

"So, I'm playing piano with these guys and we were doing pretty good. They had a solid sound and I'm actually a better piano player than I am guitar; it's just that guitar is more ‘visual' if you know what I mean. We were beginning to get repeat customers; you know, folks who would come on the nights we were playing just to listen to us. I was smart enough to never drink. Alcohol has never been a problem for me. There are some types like the wine we drink in the evening that I just love but really hard rot gut has never appealed to me. So one night, this sweet little grey haired old lady who always came to see us and always left a hundred dollar bill for the ‘boys in the band' brings us two big pans of home-made brownies. Now I may not have a taste for liquor but oh God do I have a sweet tooth. I was in that first pan so fast I almost knocked the bass player down to get to them. They were without a doubt the best brownies I have ever had in my life. To this day, I remember the taste of those brownies and they were still warm Nick. Jesus I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. We all had a brownie before we went on for our second set (I had three before I hit the stage) and we had another while we were playing. Man I don't think I've ever played any better than I did that night. I was fueled by those great brownies. I finally figured out the reason they had such a different flavor. They had bits of green leaves through out them and she said it was the fresh mint she put in them."

About this time Nick started chuckling. The more Eric talked the harder Nick laughed and by the time he got to the end of the story, Nick had rolled off the couch and was laying on the floor with tears rolling down his face.

Eric ignored him and continued his story. "From your oafish behavior, I assume you have guessed the secret of the delectable brownies. It wasn't mint. The old darling raised marijuana and had laced the hell out of the brownies. We played like we'd never played before. We had the joint rocking and everyone on their feet. We thought we were playing a little too slow so we speeded up the tempo. Of course, grass makes everything slow down so when we speeded up, man we had those instruments smoking. When we finally finished our set, we got a standing ovation. We couldn't respond because I swear every damn one of us had no limbs below our knees. I fell off the damn piano bench and crawled over to the guy on the drums and managed to get him out from behind them and together we crawled off the stage. Somebody on the crew got us on our feet and back to our dressing room. They went back to collect the rest of our guys and threw them in there with us to try to sober up. Unfortunately, the aftermath of a real Mary Jane binge is intense hunger so we decided we needed to go get something to eat. We knew there was a KFC just down the road so we piled into the old station wagon we used and started off. We got pulled over for doing twenty miles an hour in a 55 mile zone. The guy driving was our bass player and he was legally blind which we didn't know but the cops found out when they looked at his drivers license."

"My false ID was good enough to get me a gig with the group but not good enough to stand up to a real examination by pro's so I got bounced from the group and just managed to escape being put back into foster care by the skin of my teeth. I do have to say, we never ratted out the old lady. I am proud of that."
* * * * * * * * * *
They were at the end of their second week and were at the end of their rope. They had examined Eric's life practically back to kindergarten and come up with nothing and no one who could have hated him enough to kill him.

Nick was feeling real guilt. Every time he talked with Warrick, he could hear the exhaustion in his voice. While he was playing house up in the mountains with the hottest man in the world, his team mates were working doubles and even a triple or two to cope with his absence. It didn't help matters at all that Nick was beginning to reconsider his remark about not being a house-husband. He was so happy he was scared. He thought he could easily stay right here in this cabin with this man for the rest of his life and never want anything else in the world.

He thought he'd figured out how to put an end to his thoughts the day he asked Eric if he missed his music and performing in front of an audience. He was sure Eric was going to tell him he was ready to go back and claim his place in the world again. Eric had looked at him as though he'd grown a second head.

"What makes you think I'm missing my music? Have you not noticed or heard the keyboard I play on for hour's everyday?"

"Yes of course I have. It's one of the things I love the most about this place. I can be outside working on the woodpile and I can hear you play. I can be a long way away from the cabin out in the woods and still hear you. It's like listening to angels."

Eric walked over and kissed Nick deeply. "God how do you do that? How do you always know just what to say to reduce me to a blubbering idiot? No Nick, I don't miss performing at all. For me, it's always been the music. Performing is a means to an end. It gets me the money to make the kind of music I want to and the access to other musicians. If I never get on a stage again, I won't care. As long as I have my keyboard I'm fine. BUT I do have to admit, I've been sort of playing with an idea lately. Do you want to see?"

Nick said yes and Eric dashed down the hall to their bedroom. He was back in seconds with a roll of paper. When he unrolled it, Nick could see it was an addition to the cabin.

"What's this baby?"

"It's a studio. It's not a real big room because I don't think I would actually be recording with a big group but it would allow me to bring some of my guys up here and we could use overdubbing to cut our CD's. It's not like I work with a symphony orchestra or something."

Nick looked at Eric; really looked closely at him. Eric realized that Nick was quiet and looked up at him. "What...what are you looking at me like that for Nick?"

"Eric, are you telling me you would be happy up here? You'd give up the mansion in Vegas, the private jets, the hordes of people screaming your name? Is that what you're trying to say?"

Eric looked at him and said softly, "If you were with me Nick, I'd be happy in a cave." Nick had kissed Eric and pulled him down on the floor and made love to him on top of his drawings.
* * * * * * * * * *
The next day reality reared its ugly head big time. Nick and Eric were out sledding. They had found a small slope not to far away that was too short for skiing but just right for a sled. They had found some big washtubs in the barn and were using them for sleds. They were yelling and laughing like kids. It was so much fun to just stop being a grown up and let loose like a kid again.

They had just finished a run and were tangled together at the bottom of the hill laughing like loons when Eric suddenly stopped laughing. It took Nick a minute to realize Eric was quiet and looking at him.

"What's wrong? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Nick, we have explored my life practically from the moment I popped out of the womb until now...right?"

"Yes, I think we have. What's your point?"

"We haven't found one single person who wants to kill me. If it was some nutcase that just wanted to pop a celebrity and get his 15 minutes of fame, he'd have crawled out from under his rock by now to get his face on TV."

Nick thought for a moment and said, "Yes I agree with that which just makes me all the more afraid for you. We have no idea why this person killed you."

"Nick...what if he didn't kill me."

"Are you forgetting the scene in your den because I sure can't get it out of my mind? I have nightmares about that and the thought that someone could get to you makes me sick to my stomach."

Eric wrapped his arms around Nick and kissed him and told him he was right there and he wasn't going anywhere.

"Nick listen to me. What if he didn't kill me? What if he knew exactly who he killed? What if Terry Whalen was the victim all along?"

 

Nick just lay there in the snow, looking up at Eric as though he had never seen him before. He was trying to wrap his mind around what Eric had just said.

"What if he didn't kill me? What if he knew exactly who he killed? What if Terry Whalen was the victim all along?"

Nick was thinking a mile a minute. He was thinking like a CSI and not a man in love for the first time in his life and it was difficult to get back into that mindset and think of Eric as not a victim and certainly not someone he was currently holding in his arms but simply unrelated evidence.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. He let out a whoop and rolled Eric over so he was on top of him. He kissed his frozen red nose and his cheeks and his mouth over and over. He jumped up and yelled, "That's it! For the first time in a month something makes sense. I've got to go call Jim."

He started up the slope but stopped when an outraged, "NICK" was heard from the man he'd left in the snow.

"Baby, I'm sorry but this is just too good to wait. Are you gonna be okay with getting the tubs back up the slope? Never mind, if you can't just leave them there; it's not like anyone is gonna steal them right? I've got to go call Jim. You are wonderful. I love you more than ice cream with hot fudge sauce." And with that, Nick was scrambling up the slope like a deer; a deer wearing boots and a bulky ski suit.

At the bottom of the slope, Eric was still lying in the snow with his mouth open and a stunned look on his face. Finally, he laid his head down and started to laugh. "God, if this is a taste of what it's gonna be like living with a crime-fighter, it's sure not gonna be dull."
* * * * * * * * * *
Nick was so excited he didn't even think about the time. He was trying to get out of his outdoor clothes while waiting for Jim to answer and he was jumping from one foot to another like a little kid who had to go to the bathroom...which now that you mention it is just what he had to do. He finally got one boot off and was working on the other when he heard a grumpy, "Brass" on the phone.

"Jim, it's me Nick. Listen, I've got an idea well actually Eric came up with the idea but it's really a good one. Jim...Jim are you there?"

"Nick, do you have any idea what time it is? Christ, I just got to sleep. Not all of us are on vacation in a cabin in the woods getting our brains fucked out you know."

Nick had finally gotten his other boot off and was heading down the hall to the bathroom when he realized what Jim had said. "Huh, Jim, what did you say?"

"Oh come on Stokes. You think for one minute that ‘Rick and I don't know what's going on up there? Every single damn time you call me or vice-versa, you've got that ‘I've been well and truly fucked" tone to your voice. If either one of you have a brain cell left when you come down from your ‘Brokeback Mountain' it's gonna be a miracle."

Nick was so stunned, he forgot about emptying his bladder; he just sat down on the bed and tried to think of something to say.

"Nick, Nick are you still there?" Brass sounded a little worried now as well as still slightly pissed. "Come on Nick. Neither one of us is mad at you. We both knew you were over the moon about the guy before you even suggested going up there with him. Nick, come on, answer me."

"Jim, I don't know what to say to you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never meant to take advantage of you or Rick. You gotta know that man."

"Nick, you are the last person in the world to take advantage of anybody. We both know that. Now get your mind out of Eric's pants and tell me what's got you so excited you had to wake me up."

Nick swallowed hard and started to tell Jim what had happened. He began to regain a little of his excitement as he told how they had gone through Eric's background and kept coming up cold and finally, what Eric had said out on the hillside.

"Well, what do you think? Jim, it puts a whole new slant on the murder. If this guy was the intended victim, it makes so much more sense. Eric is in the public eye. If he was such a jerk he needed his head bashed in, we would have been buried by people wanting to dish the dirt about him BUT if this guy told anyone at all about his deal with Eric...well think about it. Here's a guy with a slightly shady past according to what you and Rick have found out. He's had a few minor transgressions on his record. All of a sudden, he wins a contest as the look-a-like of a world famous figure and then...one year later, the star shows up and offers him a chance to live in his world. Not just to live in the world but to actually be him in that world. Don't you think this guy would blab about it to someone? That means that any of his shady friends might be thinking about all the good stuff they could steal from a star's mansion. Or maybe one of them just got royally pissed at the idea of this loser living in the lap of luxury and decided to take him out."

Jim had been listening to Nick very carefully and as Nick got more and more excited and began to develop the possible reasons for the murder, it began to make sense to him also. When Nick finally stopped to take a breath, Jim jumped in.

"I can see it, I really can see it. Okay, that gives us something to go on. We just looked at the Whalen guy. Rick and I will go back and look at all his known associates. Is there any thing else?"

"Yes there is something but damn it I can't put my finger on it; something I've heard or read...just something that is important and I need to remember."

"Let it go Nick. It will come to you when you aren't trying so hard. Go back and cuddle with your boyfriend in your mountain paradise while Rick and I slog through the muck and mire of the underbelly of Las Vegas."

"God Jim, have you been watching those old film noir private eye movies again?"

"Hey, those were movies with plots and dialogue not like this crap their making these days with everything done by computers. Pretty soon, there won't be any actors at all just...what the hell do they call those things on the computers?"

"Avatars Jim, avatars."

"Yeah, those things. Listen, seriously Nick, this is good work the two of you have done. Either me or Rick will get back to you as soon as we have something and in the meantime, if you remember what it is you think is so important, call us, okay?"

"Right and Jim....thanks a lot."

"What for Nick?"

"For not freaking about me, huh you know, the fact that I like men."

"Nicky, I've know ever since the incident with Kristi and it doesn't have anything to do with you or the way you do your job or the way you try to take care of your friends. There are gonna be a lot of raised eyebrows, well there will be if you come out. Are you?"

"I think I'm gonna have to because I'm not giving Eric up and I don't think he's gonna give me up. If I'm gonna be with him, everyone is gonna know about me. Is it gonna be a problem for the lab do you think?"

"Are you planning on staying on the job?"

"Hell yes I am. Eric and I have already discussed this and he realizes that I'm just an ordinary guy who loves my job and intends to keep on doing it. He's okay with that so the only change will be my address and telephone number. Rick and Archie are gonna have to come to the mansion to play our video games and watch sports but that's gonna be the only change."

They said their good-byes and as Jim flipped his cell shut he thought to himself, "God Nicky. How can someone get into their forty's and still be so naïve? Everything is gonna change for you my friend. Well, Rick and I and probably Cath and Greg will just have to watch your back more than we do right now."
* * * * * * * * * *
Nick wasn't sure how he felt after he finished his call. On one hand, he felt a large weight off his shoulders because Jim and Warrick knew and didn't hate him. On the other hand, he wondered what Eric was going to say and even worse...what were the rest of his team mates going to say? How were the cops going to treat him? Would he have to worry about being left alone at a site? What if he needed help and no one came? He felt his bladder reasserting it's need for attention and headed for the bathroom.

He was standing there relieving himself and worrying about so many things when he felt an ice cold hand close around his prick. He jumped so hard he almost sprayed the wall and floor. Eric was snickering as he directed Nick's flow back into the toilet where it belonged.

"Good God almighty your hands are cold. What are you trying to do; turn the poor little guy into a dick-cycle?"

"You deserve it for leaving me in the snow with two...count ‘em two big washtubs I had to lug to the top of the slope by myself and then get them both all the way back to the cabin." Eric laid his cold cheek against Nick's warm one making him jump again. Then he turned his head and snuggled his frozen nose into Nick's warm neck.

Nick let out a strangled yelp and said, "That's it, I'm never going to pee again. All my urine has been permanently scared into remission. Are you happy?"

"No I'm not happy. I won't be happy until I'm warm and you finish what you started in a snowdrift at the bottom of our sledding hill."

Nick turned his head and dropped a quick kiss on Eric's icy cold nose and said, "Okay, lets wash our hands and I'll see what I can do about warming you up."

Nick turned to the counter started washing his hands. Eric walked over and did the same. "Nick doesn't it seem a little strange to you that we suck each other off all the time right down to swallowing each other's body fluid and yet I have to wash my hands if I hold your dick while you pee? What's the difference?"

Nick looked at his crazy, wonderful lover and said, "If you don't see the difference between cum and piss, there is no hope for you; none at all. Come on, I want to get you warm inside and out."
* * * * * * * * * *
The first couple of days they were together, Nick had always topped Eric but along about the morning of the 5th day, Eric was hot to trot and Nick was just too tired to get it up again. He offered to bring Eric off with his hand or his mouth but he said his prick was out of commission for a while. Eric had looked at him and said something so softly Nick could not understand him. "What did you say, love? I couldn't hear you."

"I said; I could do you. All you would have to do is lay there." There was complete silence. Eric looked up and found Nick staring at him with a startled look on his face. "Okay Nick, I understand, you don't bottom. It's alright, I do understand. Some guys just don't do it. Forget I said anything. I don't want to ruin what we have going here. I'm perfectly contented to be the bottom." Eric started to turn away from Nick but Nick reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Where do you think you are going? You can't just lay something like that on me and then turn away from me. I'm not angry and It's gonna take a lot more than this to ruin what we have between us. I admit I usually top. I don't think I've bottomed more than three times in my life but I love you and I want to try everything with you. I'm just surprised because you've never even given me a hint that you like to top. I thought I was doing what you wanted. Have I been selfish in always just assuming you would be the taker and I would be the giver?"

"No Nick, you are the most unselfish person...lover, I've ever been with. I'd say that probably 90, maybe 95% of the time I do prefer being a bottom but every once in a while, I want to top and right now, I want you so much, I'm shaking. I know you can't do it again but I can and I really want to."

Nick leaned over and kissed Eric gently and with a quiet passion that took his breath away. He pressed something in Eric's hand. Eric looked down and saw it was a bottle of lube. He looked up at Nick and saw passion and love in his eyes. Nick gave him another quick kiss and said, "Just make sure you use a lot of that because for a skinny guy, you are hung like a stud mule."
* * * * * * * * * *
The two men had been engaging in hot foreplay for the last 30 minutes or so and both of them were so ready. Nick reached across Eric and got into their ‘toy' drawer. He came back with a bottle of lube. Eric closed his eyes and waited for Nick to prep him. When nothing happened he opened his eyes and looked up to see something that took his breath away. Nick was up on his knees with his legs spread wide apart. He was leaning forward and had one hand between his legs. The bottle of lube was in his other hand with the lid off. It was pretty obvious that he was prepping himself. Eric had forgotten about breathing; it was totally unnecessary. Nick sat the bottle on the nightstand and swung one leg over Eric's body. He leaned down and kissed his lover. Eric could feel his dick rubbing between Nick's cheeks. He could feel his sensitive head rub over Nick's slick opening. Nick whispered against his lips, "You need an invitation? It's right there for you. All you have to do is put it in me and I'll really be your cowboy."

Eric had a fleeting thought that when he wanted to, Nick had the dirtiest mouth he'd ever encountered. His hands were shaking from need and want and desire. He didn't get it in the first time he tried or the second but the third time, he slid past Nick's sphincter muscle and just went right on in like he belonged there. Nick straightened up and settled himself down on Eric's body. "Are you ready baby? Hang on because here we go."

Eric hung on to Nick's hips for dear life and went on the ride of his life. When Nick shot his warm cum over his stomach, he sobbed out loud and let go. It must have been pretty good for both of them because there was nothing to hear in the room for quite a while except the sound of two sets of lungs gasping for air.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was several hours later and the men were in the kitchen working on dinner and a list of supplies they needed. Eric was going through the pantry and Nick was writing everything down. "Hey Nick, do you want both white and sweet potato's?" There was complete silence. Eric backed out of the pantry to see if Nick had maybe gone to the bathroom or something and was surprised to see him standing in the middle of the kitchen with a puzzled look on his face. His head was tipped to one side as though he was listening to something. "Nick? What are...?"

Nick put his hand up to silence Eric. Eric shut up and listened for all he was worth but couldn't hear a damn thing. He was just about to ask Nick if he was on drugs or something when Nick caught his breath. Eric swore he could see the light bulb go off over Nick's head. Suddenly Nick was out of the kitchen and in the main room. He grabbed his phone off the coffee table and pressed the button for Jim's speed dial. After 3 rings, he impatiently shut the phone off and pressed Warrick's. Rick answered after the 2nd ring.

"Brown. What's up Nicky?"

"Rick, did Jim tell you about my call earlier?"

"Are you kidding? He rousted me out of bed and by the way we each got about three maybe three and a half hours sleep and we've been reworking the evidence from that point of view ever since."

"I just thought of what it was that was bothering me."

"Good; lay it on me. We can use all the help we can get."

"Do you remember when Eric was telling us about his brain storm to get some time to himself? He asked Charles if he remembered the look-a-like contest."

"Of course; that's where he met Terry Whalen. What about it?"

"Do you remember what Charles said?"

"Uhhh...Oh My God...yes I do."

"The resemblance really was remarkable. He didn't have the scattering of moles on his cheek like yours but he did have one just under his cheekbone. He deserved to win the contest although I do seem to remember one of the other contestants was a little disgruntled."

"Rick, how disgruntled do you think the other contestant was?"

"Oh Bro, maybe disgruntled enough to blow when or if Terry let him know he not only won the contest but was going to be Eric's stand-in? I'm gonna go get Jim. We'll get back to you as soon as we find out something."

And just like that, it was all over. When you knew what you were looking for, it was really easy to find. They got the phone records from Terry's cell phone which they had previously subpoenaed. The problem was, the first time they had just looked at the calls for the past two days. Now they went back to the date Eric first talked to Terry about being his body double. There were lots of local calls. They got the names for each number then went to see Charles. He took one look at their list and pointed to one name; Jerry Rivers. He said that was the name of the contestant who was so angry he caused a scene when Terry Whalen was named the winner.

Jim and Warrick had to go to the Sheriff and confess their sins to him and the District Attorney. In the end, Nick and Eric had to come in to the DA's office. When Eric walked into the office under heavy guard completely surrounded by Nick, Brass, Warrick and three mucho large body-guards of his own, the tension and shock was thick enough to almost see.

Within 30 minutes, a warrant was produced to search the premises of one Jerry Rivers. They never found the remains of Terry Whalen's head BUT they did find a solid iron pipe encrusted with dried material that both Nick and Warrick identified immediately as blood, bone fragments and brain matter. The pipe and a plain, Dollar-General plastic dust pan (also encrusted with the same dried materials) were found in his garage. They were really well hidden and it took a police dog to sniff out the hiding place. They were concealed in the wall behind the dryer vent. It took the dog a while to find it because the vent had been well used and evidently a lot of fabric softener had been run through that dryer.

Of course Rivers swore he'd never seen those things but his fingerprints were on the panel, the pipe and the dust pan. The dried material was a match to Terry Whalen's DNA. The most difficult murder case to hit Vegas in years turned out to be a walk in the park in the end.

During his interrogation, River's admitted Terry Whalen had called him bragging about how he not only won the contest but he was going to be Eric's right hand man. Whalen kept calling him telling him about meeting Eric in the park and then going to California with him. He'd really rubbed it in when he got back; telling him about the plastic surgery and how Eric had arranged for round the clock nursing care for him while he recovered in a swanky bungalow at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Of course, he came home to Vegas in first class; nothing but the best for Eric Sander's body double. Brass and Warrick both felt the final straw was when Eric decided to do the two week test run and left him to take his place in the mansion with Charles to wait on him hand and foot. That's when Rivers snapped and went over and beat Terry Whalen's lying face to pieces. The reason for his rage; the rules of the contest specified that eye-make up could be used but that was it. Absolutely no other artificial changes at all. Terry Whalen had gotten his mole tattooed on his cheek. He'd cheated to win the contest.

It really was over...Well over, except for the media frenzy that erupted into world wide hysteria when it was revealed that Eric Sanders, International Recording Star had risen from the dead. And oh yeah, he came back with a gorgeous, male, Las Vegas CSI as his lover and partner.

Talk about the shit hitting the fan.

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