By: duffshel
Pairing: Nick/Warrick
Rated: AO
Disclaimer: This is all written in fun and trial for something new. Everything CSI is not mine and never will be. It belongs to the creative talent of the actors, the writers, the directors, and producers. I am not making any money off of this. Only meant to offer something new on something already so great. No reason to sue. Don't own anything with the song either. All rights belong to Garth Brooks and Pat Alger. Just using it for some inspiration and chapter titles.
Summary: Strange events in the form of murder leave nothing, but trouble and confusion. Nick and Warrick are pulled into a world they were not ready for.
***
PrologueThere are many things in the world that can cause one's flesh to crawl and their hair to stand on end. Sometimes it takes almost nothing at all and for others, the fright is harder to achieve. In the busy world of the 21st centaury, one would think there would be little to shock and surprise anymore. But that would be untrue. People continue to fear things, big or small.
Around the world, there are people that fear the so-called big things. Ghosts, apparitions, and demons that fill heads of people young and old in every continent. There are reports from all regions of strange things happening late at night when people are supposed to be sleeping. Strange tales of a young woman walking from a large monument of a cross and drowning herself in the nearby water body to children running through hallways of old hospitals send people in droves to different places to be a witness to the phenomenon. It seems to be a passage of rights to see something not of the normal, ordinary world.
Fears, like anything, have smaller versions. Things that happen in everyday life that sends people into fits of panic. Since these are nothing as grand as a young girl getting possessed by the Devil and causing things to happen around her, people just pass these off as nothing, but irrational. Women jump on chairs when a small, gray shape runs past. Men shiver when a long body with many legs crosses a wall. Children squeal when large beasts approach too quickly.
And like many odd things in the world, people are attracted to it. It draws people to scare themselves, to scream, to cry. Holidays are made for children to run around dressed like demons and angels. It is undeniable for many. Fear draws out something in every human being. Many even feel a connection to others over such a thing. Scare another and be worthy.
No one is immune to fear. It comes in many shapes and forms. To another, it may seem silly and stupid. But to the person experiencing that rush of blood, goose bumps from head to toe, and prickly hair on end, it makes all the sense. It erases all logic and reasoning from even the brightest. It brings out the trembling child in the biggest and strongest. A gun will not protect you. A friend will only fall with you. What is it that can make your heart stop?
!#$&)(-!#$)(&-!#$&()-
A whimper was all she could get past the cloth gag in her mouth. The room was dark, but the shadows of the people moving around were very clear. Whatever it was that they had shot into her arm was making her body very heavy and hard to move. She hadn't been tied to the chair, but she couldn't force herself to move even her little toe. Every muscle seemed to have a mind of its own. None would obey the large brain in her head anymore.
Several dark figures seemed to almost dance around her as her eyes fought to focus straight. A hand ghosted across the warm flesh of her cheek. Breath misted around the back of her neck. Something wet and cold was soaking into her clothes. Whispers rang in her ears around the laughter.
The young boy that had been hauled into the house lay on his side, his back only visible. He was shaking, but it was hard to tell if it was from simply tears or overall fear. She didn't know what his purpose was here. She didn't know who he was. Several more shapes were standing around him, one bent low. Her eyes couldn't make out much of any of it.
Suddenly her hair was soaked with whatever it was that weighed down her clothes. The smell hit her nose immediately. The panic that coursed through her body did nothing to make it move. She knew that smell. She knew the sound of a match hitting the book. Her eyes managed the ability to widen once the flame was waved in front of her face.
The boy's screams were nothing over the sound of the flames. She couldn't scream. That was lost to her. Only her nose and eyes seemed to be alive as her skin was turned black and dead. The boy was removed. His fate would not be hers. She almost wished for those threatening teeth as the fire licked its way up to her face.
***
#1The heat filled the area surrounding the building. The orange flames licked away at the wood and siding of the brand new townhouse. It was a rich area. Houses like these weren't supposed to just go up in flames like this.
Nicholas Stokes stood back and watched with wide-eyes as the fire department battled the intense fire. He had only witnessed a few fires in his career and this had to be the biggest. The entire damn house was lit up.
A tiny voice in the back of his mind kept wondering what the hell he was doing there anyways. This was something for the fire department to worry about. And, with patience he didn't really understand that he had, Nick explained back to the voice that no one had left the house according to the neighbors and the car of one of the owners was still parked in the driveway. The automobile had already been put out. No need for an explosion as well.
Jim Brass was standing about four feet away, mouth attached to his phone as he barked orders. He had been the one to call Nick to the scene. The others on the team were all already on other cases and seeing as it was Nick's first day back from his mini-vacation, he was free. The detective kept a close eye on the criminalist as to make sure he didn't do anything brave.
There were several people standing around the barricade that the department had put up around the red trucks and water hoses. Nothing like a little carnage early in the morning to drag the people to be witness. Flashes from digital cameras and phones added white light to the reds and blues. A group of people had also gathered around Officer Andrew Kehls and his squad car. They all looked distressed and scared. These were the neighbors that Andrew was trying to keep calm and get information from.
Several shouts from firefighters were filtered through Nick's brain, but nothing stuck. The inner child under all the muscle and age was almost jumping around in excitement at the blaze. His adult side scorned this attraction, but did nothing to stop it. The fire was holding his full attention. Destruction was always something that pulled at the human mind.
Brass finally managed to get off his phone and walked over to stand next to Nick. He couldn't help, but to grin at the expression on the kid's face. There was morbid fascination, yet disgust was written clearly in those chocolate eyes. But the cop couldn't deny that it wasn't interesting to him as well. It wasn't often you saw an entire house encased within red and orange.
"Do you want me to call someone else in to help us out with this?"
The strong, rough voice broke into Nick's head and he managed to turn his eyes from the fire, "I don't know. I talked to Warrick yesterday and it seemed they were all in the wrap-up stages of that stabbing case. Let them finish it up without distraction. I think you and I can handle this for awhile alone."
"Alright. Once we are allowed in the building, you stick close to me."
Nick turned fully to Brass with a smile on his face, "Well, gosh Jim. I didn't realize I was so treasured to you."
"Oh please. I just don't want you to run into any walls or anything."
The two stared at each other for a moment before they began to laugh. People were looking at them strangely and Nick knew they shouldn't be laughing, but he couldn't help it. The tension was so thick you could cut through it with a chain saw.
The fire chief came walking up to the smiling men and shook his head. He had been in his position for many years and knew both men on different levels. This really didn't surprise him all that much.
"You two are going to piss people off if you keep laughing like fools," Chief Jerry Hopkins stated with the sides of his mouth twitching.
"Blame it on the kid here."
Nick wisely turned away from the two older men and didn't respond. Another crew of firemen had finally arrived and he watched as the scrambled about to get more water on the fire. The added blast helped to hold down the fire on the north side. Siding flew from the house like flakes of skin.
"How much longer do you think before it is out?"
Jerry took in everything around him briefly before he answered Nick's question, "It all depends on the structure of the house. If it falls, could take a little longer. But they are managing it well."
The three men stood together as they watched the battle between the flames and water. The heat was still intense. Sweat was running down Nick's spine, but he didn't move. His eyes once again focus on the carnage in front of him. This was going to be a long night of going through all the damage.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Warrick Brown was tired. He had just gotten back to the lab from the police station. The case had finally gotten wrapped up once they got the confession out of the boy's cousin earlier during the evening. It seems the kid was sick of all the attention his ten year old cousin was getting from the family and decided it would be best to stab his six times on top of his Spiderman bed sheets. Grissom and Catherine were working on the paper work yet, but had sent Warrick back with Greg. They were driving all the cops insane with their impatient pacing.
There was still four hours left on their shifts so they went straight to the break room to get a caffeine kick for the rest of the night. Greg Sanders had practically ran to the coffee machine and prepped it. Looking over his shoulder and seeing only Warrick walking into the room, the young criminalist bent and reached into the back of the cabinet under the sink. He took back up with a smirk, his coffee in his hand.
"So ya gonna share with me, man?"
Greg shrugged, "I suppose I could. You were extra nice to me on the case after all. It is the least that I can do for you."
"So kind of you."
Warrick sighed as he let his body drop onto the couch and rested his head on the plush back. His head was sore, but it wasn't anything a few aspirins wouldn't be able to fix. The smell of the expensive coffee began to fill the room and he let his mind relax along with his body. Greg had begun to hum to himself as he went about the room.
The lab was quiet outside the doorway. Las Vegas had been slow. The murderers and crazy people seemed to have taken a break. Within the past week, the graveyard shift only had four major cases. Even the day shift had been slow enough to do all their work on their own. Warrick wasn't complaining though. They had been two criminalists short.
Nick had taken five days off to get some stuff done around his place. He wanted to paint and clean the carpeting and couldn't seem to find time otherwise. Though he took a day off to hand out with his best friend and allow Warrick to kill him at hoops. And then after a day that Nick had been gone, Sara received a call from a friend back in California. The girl's father had taken ill and Grissom told her to fly back to San Francisco to visit with the family and her old friend. She had accepted the advice and flew out a few hours later.
The coffee was finally done and Greg gave a large cupful to Warrick. Both took large sips as they sat and tried to collect. Warrick had been glad the case with the kid had occurred when Nick was off. Cases like those affected all of them, but no where close to how they did to the Texan. He was sure it had to do with something that happened to the other man when he was younger, but Nick never talked about anything with his childhood.
Greg had just gotten up from his place next to Warrick when Gil Grissom and Catherine Willows walked into the room. The team co-leaders looked tired, but ready for whatever was to happen next. Grissom placed his phone on the wooden table as he pulled out a chair to take a seat. Catherine immediately stole Greg's coffee.
"Well, that's done. Now all we have to do is wait for the call for our next case."
Warrick just nodded and stared down into the black brew. No one said a word, but the silence was not uncomfortable. Greg shifted a few times as he watched the older CSI's in the room with him. They were one odd family unit that was for sure. He was about to say something when Grissom's phone went off.
"Grissom."
The other three watched the leading CSI closely as he listened to the caller. His face betrayed no emotion and he didn't say a word. Catherine wanted to hit him for always being so calm and collected. Finally the man said his good bye and hung up the phone.
"It seems we are going to be having two more cases tonight. That was Vega. Apparently there is a fire across town that Jim and Nick are already at."
Warrick looked up at his boss, "Nick's back already? I thought he started next shift?"
"It appears that Jim knew we were all busy and got a hold of him for it. I want Warrick and Greg to go and help him out. Catherine, you are going to come with me. There is an apparent animal attack over at Freedom Park."
This caused Greg's ears to perk up, "The skateboard place?"
"That would be it. Catherine and I will figure it out when we get there."
Warrick shook his head and he stood up. His back cracked almost painfully, but he used the jolt to ready himself. A fire was always a lot of work. One could hope Nick and Brass would have things set and ready to go by the time Warrick and Greg got there.
"So where's this fire?"
"Over in Henderson, Seven Hills. Your best bet is to get on 515 from this direction. I don't have the exact address, but it sounded like Vega said Saratoga Circle."
"All we will have to do once we get there is find all the big, red trucks," Greg chirped in.
Grissom and Catherine both looked at the young CSI with a confused look. Both had forgotten how rookies could act. Neither said a word as they left the room with shakes of their heads.
"Was it something I said?"
"Always man. Come on, let's go check on Nick and see what is up with that fire."
Energy surged through Greg's body and he was hot on Warrick's heels as they left the break room. He was practically bouncing as they stopped to grab some more gear from a store room. Once they broke out into the night air, Greg felt like singing.
***
#2Catherine took a deep breath and readjusted the beam of light from her small flashlight. The young male on the cement was a sight to see. It had taken a few minutes to even figure out it was a male they were dealing with. Whatever had attacked this kid had done a real number. Bile kept rising into the back of Catherine's throat.
The latex gloves felt warm on her hands as she reached down to the mess. The body was almost to the point she didn't think it could be called a body any longer. Both arms were barely attached at the shoulders any longer and the right leg was turned completely around in its socket. Skin, muscle, and bone were missing in numerous places. This poor guy had been a meal ticket for something.
David Phillips crouched at the other side of the victim and was busy getting his readings. His hand was flying over the notebook paper as he took notes on what he was seeing. This was something he had never seen. Mauling happened, but never to this extent around here in the past few years. The body temperature was warm. This happened about an hour ago.
"What else do you need with him here, Catherine?"
The blonde woman looked up into the field coroner's eyes, "If you are ready to move him, give me just a sec. I have the pictures I need here, but I need a few swabs samples from the…bite marks..."
The young man nodded and stood up. He quickly gathered his gear and headed over to the ambulance that was waiting for transport. The black bag felt heavy in his hand as he pulled it out. He blanked out his mind as he headed back over to the body. Two medics followed and the three of them managed to get everything into the bag once Catherine gave them the go.
Catherine didn't bother watching anything occurring with Dave and his team. Her eyes were raking slowly over the ground underneath the body. Blood stains and pools were everywhere. The edges were not solid and there was no pattern to how it seemed to spread. Catherine had to guess the blood just poured from everywhere. It was heavy in too many places.
Her body started at the hand that lay softly down on her shoulder. Grissom stayed still as Catherine collected herself. Only his eyes remained active as he took in the mess on the cement in front of the two.
"Any thoughts?"
"Not yet. There is a lot of blood here. I was going to swab it to make sure it was all from our victim. I haven't checked the parameter yet. David just left with the body,"
"Alright. You finish up with the swabs here and I am going to check around this ramp and see if I can find anything."
Catherine nodded as she watched Grissom walk away. Her kit was close and she only had to reach over with her right hand to grab the packet of swabs and their plastic covers. There was little wind or disturbance to the blood pool due to the location. The body was found next to the pyramid ramp covered in spray paint. A group of young Mexican children were the ones unfortunate enough to come across this mess. Vega told her that he had called their parents and took them down to the station already.
The swabs soaked up the blood. Catherine worked in a tight circle as she took her samples. She would move out from the main spot to the splatters. It was a lot of blood.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
The lights of the park were off. Grissom asked a police officer he passed to bring him some flood lights. He couldn't seem much with the beam his flashlight was offering. The young officer ran over quickly and set up one on the cement next to where the CSI was standing.
The gray was lit up, "Hey, before you run off, could you see if the lights could be taken off their timer and turned on?"
Grissom's question to the officer stopped the man in his steps. He was new to the force and didn't know what to do. Taking the easy route, the officer nodded and ran off to find Vega.
The CSI immediately began searching the ground for anything. There had to be something. A blood splatter, a footprint, a tire mark. Something had to show how the man was placed in the middle of that park for the kids to find when they came to skate.
The skating park wasn't very large. It was approximately 8,100 sq. ft. which was decent size, but Grissom had heard of larger ones. And when encased in the seventy acre park with the baseball field, it was just a small feature. The park itself had no open land due to dust problems in the area so there wasn't much dirt to rely on for treads.
Just as Grissom was about to move the flood light he was working with, the lights over head came on. The entire area was lit up with the fake white wash of high watt bulbs. It took Grissom a second to adjust his eyes to the new situation before he began his search again. There was nothing in this region of the park.
Slow footsteps lead the CSI to the parking lot side of the skate park. There were a few cars that weren't squad in the lot, but nothing that screamed for attention. But there were some odd tire marks that did catch Grissom's attention.
Large tread were leaving the skating park in what looked like two directions. Grissom knelt down next to the black designs. They led in once and out once. Following them into the skating arena, they led right up to where Catherine was bent over a large red pool.
Grissom walked over to Catherine and didn't say a word as he grabbed her camera and a few markers. Carefully he placed them along the treads and took pictures as he walked. It didn't look like the vehicle turned around anywhere. Whoever had been driving simply reversed and backed out once the body was out. The speed hadn't been that great. The treads were pretty clear with little smudging.
Detective Sam Vega took that opportunity to find the CSI and walk up to him, "Hey Grissom. How are things going?"
'Well, I just found these tire marks leading to where our victim was placed. Do you know if there are any cameras over this area?"
"Nah, they just redid the pavement and added a lot more lights during the renovations. This is a heavy Hispanic part of town. Cameras were out of budget."
Grissom nodded at the information, "Could you spare an officer to see if this trail can be followed further than this? I doubt it, but it is worth a try."
"Sure. I can get two over here for you. We aren't really having problems keeping people away being this late a night. And the kids that found the body, I have had them taken to the station. Their parents have been called. I will head there soon to question them."
"Yeah, I would love to know what they are doing here at this time of night."
Vega nodded his head and turned to walk away. Grissom waited until two officers ran over to give his instructions before he walked back over to Catherine. She had just finished up with her samples and was packing her kit back up. She turned to Gil when she heard his approach.
"So what do you want to have done now?"
"Well, I think I found where the vehicle came in. Vega has some officers following the trail, but I don't think we are going to get anywhere with it. We should leave the area taped and watched while we head back to the lab."
Catherine nodded and picked up her bag. The two CSI's walked in silence back over the truck. And the silence tagged along during the ride. The blonde woman couldn't help, but wonder what had happened to lead that boy to that park in that situation. Something happened and she could only hope they could figure out what it was.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Greg almost couldn't keep his disappointment to himself when they arrived on the scene. There had been a car accident on the freeway and it had stalled them for almost forty minutes. The fire was completely out when they finally pulled in. Only smoke still left from the destroyed roof.
The young CSI dragged himself from the truck and opened the back door to grab his stuff. He could almost feel the grin that Warrick was giving him. During the jam, Greg had mentioned he had never seen a house on fire before and he was excited to see something new. But he had missed out, again.
Both men walked from the truck and past the yellow tape with a flash of their badges. Warrick's green eyes darted around as he tried to locate his friend. All he saw was the happy-go-lucky face of one Jim Brass. He resisted the eye roll as he pulled Greg over to the detective.
"Hey Jim. What happened here?"
The solid, dark haired man turned to face the new arrivals with a raised eyebrow, "I though that was your job, Warrick?"
"Doesn't mean you can't help out every once 'n awhile. Where's Nick at?"
"Oh, he decided to go off with the fire chief and get a full tour of the place."
Warrick chuckled and shook his head. Poor Greg just looked confused. He couldn't figure out was so odd about Nick wanting to get in and check things out. And who better to take him in than the fire chief himself.
"What's wrong with that?"
The two older men looked at him, but neither said a word. Warrick just grinned at him again and Brass gave another eyebrow raise. "Whatever guys."
"So, you two ready to get in there? I am told it is clear for entry though those fire guys are still working out which rooms are safe to process."
"Just take us in Brass."
The detective turned towards the house and set a fast pace to the front door. Warrick had no trouble keeping up, but Greg felt like he was jogging. The smell of burnt wood and carpeting was strong and the night wind had no problem in moving it around. Greg wanted to hide his nose in his shirt, but didn't want to look like a wimp to the other two men.
Brass stepped in the charred doorway and stood to the side as the two CSI's walked in, flashlights in their hands. There was nothing, but black and ash. Warrick could hear voices towards the back of the house, but he couldn't help standing there shocked for a few seconds. Fire was not something he would ever want to mess with.
"It was a hot one. I am surprised they got it out at all," Brass commented as he took a look at the inside for the first time.
The fire chief saved the three men from having to go looking for him. He burst through what must have been a kitchen at one point with a frown that put Brass to shame, even on his best day. No one had to prompt him for any information about his foul mood.
"We found the body. Your guy's in there. See if you can convince him to wait until we make sure this damn thing is safe before he starts going nuts."
Warrick couldn't help it. A smile broke across his face showing his white teeth, "That would be Nicky. I'll go see what I can do."
The tall CSI walked past the fire chief and soon found himself looking into a large kitchen. Nick was standing with his back to the entrance. It was clear to make out the tension built up in those shoulders. Warrick made his way to the other man's side, but was stopped in his tracks when he saw what held Nick's attention and light beam.
A charred body was slumped over on what was left of a table chair. What little skin was left clung to the brown bones. Nothing was left that Warrick could see of the clothes or shoes.
"Damn!"
Nick jumped slightly and whipped around to face the disturbance, "Shit 'Rick. Make some damn noise next time, will ya? And get that damn light out of my face!"
"Sorry, man. Didn't realize you were going deaf on me."
"Just shut up. When did you get here?"
Warrick took another step closer to the victim, "A few minutes ago. I cannot believe someone would just sit in a chair and wait for the fire to hit them."
Nick didn't answer his friend. There was something wrong with all of this. The body looked as if it never moved during the fire. He looked around and couldn't help the shiver that ran up his spine. From the pattern of the fire, it started right there with the body.
"I'll take this room. Why don't you see if you can find anything outside."
"Sure, I'll have Greg help me with the yard. It looks to be a big one. What about the upstairs?"
"Have to wait until the chief gives the okay on it," Nick finally looked over at Warrick.
Warrick nodded and with a pat on a muscled shoulder, he left the room. The only person left in the front room that he knew was Greg. He nodded his head at the younger CSI as he walked past. Greg didn't hesitate. He followed Warrick out of the house.
"Nick's going to take the inside of the kitchen, you and I are going to scope it out here. Find anything, photo and bag it."
Once Greg nodded and headed to the left side of the house, Warrick turned and took the right. There was a lot of yard to this damn house. It was green and rich. Lots of money to buy those looks in Vegas. Yards like these were what were draining the Nation's rivers and lakes. People didn't seem to realize what a green lawn in the desert cost to the planet.
The front part of the yard was totally ruined. Whatever might have been there was trashed by the tracks of firefighters, hoses, and water blasts. Even though Warrick hadn't been at the house for the fire, the evidence of the battle was clear. It had been a big one.
But once he walked around to the back and the large patio, things began to show up. Warrick completely ignored the spacious pool and focused on the dirt smudges that covered the pale cement that surrounded it. The moonlight was enough to make out that there was a path and many people had moved back and forth in that area.
His flashlight lit up the mud and there were skid marks. Someone had slipped when walking from the house. Probably running too quickly from the fire. Warrick grabbed the camera around his neck and began snapping pictures. Once he was satisfied, he followed the rough path towards the grass and dirt. There was nothing behind the house, but more yard and a large wooden fence. With a sweep of his beam, Warrick saw the fence was intact.
"Hey Warrick!"
Greg walked briskly towards the other man. He was excited.
"What's up man?"
"They drove out on that side. The trail leads to back here."
Warrick nodded and swept wider. Sure enough, there were depressions from a large vehicle. They were deep and heavy in the grass. There was a lot of weight to something to do that. And from the width of the impressions, the vehicle had to be fairly large, one of those SUV's that could pass for a bus possibly.
"It fits with these foot tracks I found by the pool. They lead from the grass to the back of the house. Must have parked back here and broke in."
Greg listened with a slight frown on his face, "But wouldn't the owner know someone was here if they drove around the entire house? I mean, the headlights would flash through several windows."
The taller CSI didn't bother answering. He had no clue what to say to that one. He had no idea. But soon things should begin to fall into place. Both men began processing the tracks without a word to the other. Water was still running from areas of the cooling house. Something could be lost that shouldn't be.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
The kitchen, what was left of it, was nothing more than darkened steel and tile. Everything about it screamed sanitary and clean before it went up in the hot flames. Nick walked the room slowly and studied all the burn patterns. Something pushed the fire up and out. It started in this room/
The linoleum on the floor was peeling and bending upward. Nick had to watch his steps to make sure he didn't get caught on anything and land flat on his face. His kit was still outside in his truck. He had been so eager to get in the house with the chief, he had forgotten it. Not that he would tell Grissom that. But he did still have a pair of latex gloves in his back pocket. It was sad when a grown man carried a pair in every pair of pants he owned.
Paint was completely melted off in some areas. The fire worked its way upward along the walls, not downward. And there was a smell in the air that was familiar, but the name didn't just jump into his head. Whatever it was reminded him of the cookouts that his family had when he was younger and still in Texas. But Nick wasn't about to jump anywhere with lighter fluid and the works. He could be patient enough to have Hodges tell him what was used to start the fire.
Finally, Nick knew he couldn't avoid the body any longer. With purpose and a downward stare, he left the kitchen and house on the way back out to his truck. His kit bag was sitting in the front seat next to his camera. Both were grabbed and he returned before anyone could say a word to him.
The body was still slumped forward. With a large breath, Nick knelt down in front of it and forced himself to look into the face. The lips and nose were gone. Once white teeth were yellow and brown. The eyes, black sludge dripping down charred cheeks. There were still a few strands of hair on the head. Clothes were gone or melted into bone and brown muscle.
Nick took several pictures and pulled a few hair strands to place in the small plastic baggie he held with his other hand. The hair might have been blonde, but Nick couldn't tell right then and there. Carefully, he reached up with his free hand and grabbed at the jaw. The body fell forward.
"Fuck!"
The Texan jumped to his feet and the body crashed to the floor. The left arm broke off. Nick had to fight the urge to run outside and relive his lunch all over the grass. Deep breaths could be heard in the room. They were enough to cover the sound of footsteps.
"Nick?"
"Hey Super Dave. In here, the back," the reply was thick and weak.
The coroner walked into the room, out of breath, "Sorry it took so long to get here. I just finished up with Catherine before I headed here."
"No problem man. I was just getting down and dirty here…Um…that isn't the original position. Might want to make a record of it. The body was in the chair, but when I went to move the head for a better photo of the face, it fell…the arm fell off!"
David nodded and walked over, unfazed, to stand above the now grounded body. He took it all in and shook his head. There would be no need to take a temperature or call a C.O.D. It was all clear on what caused the death and when the fire took place. If the body was dead prior to the fire, a decent temperature would be impossible to get anyways.
"She suffered before she died."
Nick looked up sharply, "She?"
"Yeah, look at the lower body. It is broad in the hip area. Though I could be wrong. The body is burnt pretty badly."
Both men worked on getting the victim on its back and David stood. This time he had carried the black bag in with him. He got out his cell phone and called in the gurney. Nick helped him get everything in the bag and once again fought the bile when he picked up the stray arm. David nodded to him as they wheeled the body out.
Nick stood up and looked around the room once again. There was a lot to process here, but he hadn't heard anything from the chief about the rest of the house being open. Nothing was jumping out for a cause to all of this. He heard voices out back so he headed to the yellow sliding doors.
Warrick and Greg were both bent over something on the patio. Curiosity got the better of Nick and he walked over to them. "What do you guys got?"
"We found several footprints. There were a lot of people here tonight. And over there," Warrick moved his beam of light to the side of the house, "Is where they drove through."
Nick walked closer, "What happened here?"
Both of the other men looked up and saw where Nick was starring. There was a large mud stain that was wider than the others. Warrick bent down by it and frowned. He looked up Nick when the Texan spoke again.
"Someone was dragged. Away from the house."
***
#3A young boy lay still on the steel table. Several lights blasted down upon him. The pale skin was lit up blue on the television screen hanging from the ceiling. All remaining cloths had been removed and bagged. The body was rearranged so it was back the way it should be.
The charred woman was composed on the other table in the room. Her black, melted face covered the entire screen above her table. The left arm was lying on the side of the body where it should have been attached. Nothing had been bagged from this victim. Clothes were mixed too thickly in with the ash and flesh.
Doc Albert Robbins stood between the two and starred blankly down at the floor in front of him. Like everyone else, he had seen some things in his days, but this was something new. Taking a deep breath, he moved back over to the burn victim. He had managed to get a needle through the tough hide of the chest and was able to pull out a vial of blood from the now still heart. There was nothing left on the hands for finger prints. He was going to work on getting dental impressions now. Somehow they were going to have to identify this woman.
The doctor was hard at work with the paste when Nick and Warrick walked into the room. They both were wearing the blue protective gowns and latex gloves. These two cases were sensitive and they couldn't afford any mess ups with any step.
Nick walked over to the young boy. He hadn't heard much about Grissom's and Catherine's case. It was scary and fascinating to see. He had never seen anyone damaged as much as that. From the size and stature of the body, it was a young kid, no more than fourteen, fifteen years old.
"Anything Doc?" Warrick asked when he noticed Nick's attention was not of the older man in the room, but the boy on the table.
"I am trying to get something for you to use off dental records. There is nothing for identification on the body and I have no way of removing the clothes. I managed to get some blood out and I have sent it to Mia for processing along with the boy. But from what I have started, I can tell you she was probably what started the fire. We have an approximately thirty-five year old woman who was covered in some sort of fluid, from the smell; I would say a lighter fluid."
"Okay, what's up on the boy?"
Doc Robbins raised an eyebrow, "I thought that wasn't your case?"
"Just curious," Nick didn't look up.
Warrick exchanged a look with Robbins and walked up to stand next to his partner. The boy was a mess and it would mess with anyone's head. Warrick wanted to get Nick away from his as soon as possible. Kids, no matter the age, always stuck in Nick's head for weeks after the case. As little contact he could manage would be the best.
"Come on, bro. Let's go check up with Mia and see if she has anything. If not, we can harass her until she does something."
Nick didn't resist as Warrick took his arm and pulled him from the examination room. The Texan's footsteps were heavy, but he was able to keep up with the taller man with little problem. The path through the lab was clear. Mia was alone in her DNA lab.
The attractive, black woman was bent over a microscope and was tapping her foot to a beat only she could hear on the floor. She heard the men enter the room, but didn't bother to look up at them.
"So Mia, what do you have on our vic?"
"Nothing yet. I just got the blood samples from Robbins five minutes ago. You are going to have to give me some time. Catherine demanded to go first and I am not about to argue with her. Go check with Hodges first. I am sure he has something done."
"What does he have?"
"Robbins sent him a sample of the clothes/skin from the girl to figure out what was used to start the fire."
Neither said anymore, but nodded. Hodges lab was kiddy corner to Mia's so it didn't take much to get to it. Neither man just didn't want to deal with the other man. He was unusual at best. The three all had conflicts of some sort.
David Hodges didn't bother looking up as the two CSI's walked into his lab. He wore his usual bored smirk as he continued his work. There were not a lot of cases at that time so he had been helping out the day shift with some of their overload and late work. But he had gotten his stuff for the graveyard done first.
"Hey Hodges, we were wondering if…"
"If I was able to take a look at the sample that Robbins sent to me. Yes I have."
Warrick looked expectantly at the shorter man. He had never been terribly fond of the tech, but had to admit the guy did do good work. Greg had been something has a DNA tech., but Hodges was something completely different than even that with trace. Warrick felt his impatience rise as the man ignored both him and Nick.
"And?"
"Oh. Yeah. Well, it seems that the body was doused in a lighter fluid. According to the database, it is Kingsford charcoal lighter fluid. It is manufactured by the Clorox Company. It can be purchased in boxes of twelve, but I would say two or three would have been enough to light a body on fire. Your vic is lucky they just didn't let her suffocate from it or poison her with it. The hydrocarbons that make up that stuff would knock a wrestler off his feet in no time."
"Well, that gives more proof that the fire started with our D.B.," Nick said quietly as he took in the new information, "Anything else?"
"No, that was all I had been asked to with it. If there is more, you will have to tell me, but it will take me some time do get to it."
The brown haired man went back to his sample and efficiently ended the conversation. Warrick said nothing as he turned and stomped out of the room. It helped, but it wasn't a case breaker. Someone had set a woman on fire. They needed to know who she was.
Greg ran up to Warrick once he saw him leaving the lab room. His eyes were bright and his step was light. A piece of paper waved in his hand.
"I got the papers on the house. It belonged to one Ralph White and his wife, Sherie. My bet, the victim is the wife."
"Do we know where Mr. White is?" Nick questioned once he was at Warrick's side.
"No, but I can call Brass and see if he can find him."
Warrick and Nick nodded at the same time. There was no answer from Greg other than the sound of his shoes on the tile as he ran off to find his phone. Now that was a case breaker. The husband would certainly be a suspect in all of this even if the woman turned out to not be his wife. They now had someone to try to match the DNA to.
"I'll see if I can get any medical records for Mrs. White so that Mia will have something to compare to as she does her thing."
"Alright Nicky. I'll see if I can dig up anything on the couple to see if there is any motive that would lead to the death of his wife. Leave your phone on. Mia should call us as soon as she has something."
The men nodded and banged together a closed fist. Finally there was something to run with and both were excited to follow the lead. They both just hoped they were heading in the right direction with the body.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Catherine stood stiffly next to the table holding the boy. She was waiting for the good Doc to give her the rundown on the victim. Grissom had already come in and collected the remains of clothing. He had left the autopsy work to her on this one. She had a feeling he really didn't know what to do with this body and the cruel death.
The older doctor made his way slowly over to her side. He had been working a little more on the burnt woman on the other table. Catherine couldn't look at that one for long. As bad as it sounded, she was glad she had the mauling as her case. Let the boys deal with the ashes.
"Hello Catherine. I hope you are doing well."
"As well as I can under the circumstances. So what can you tell me about our D.B. here?"
"Well, C.O.D. is obvious with the bite marks and the large loss of blood. The body drained itself through all the wounds. My guess," Robbins pointed to the upper left torso, "Is that is the bite that finished the poor boy off. Several bones are broken and a great deal of skin and muscle is missing from the body. Whatever attacked him, took pieces with it."
"Do you have any ideas on what bite him?"
"From the size and shape of the bite marks on his upper arms and legs, I would have to say canine. I really don't know what type, but something large with a narrower jaw. And from the damage, I would say there was probably more than one."
"Is it possible to get a cast of any of the teeth marks?"
"Already done, drying as we speak," the cane clanked on the ground as the doctor turned and walked towards a shelving unit to his left, "I also found this."
Catherine held out her hand when the small plastic bag was held out to her. Doc Robbins dropped it into the waiting limb. She pulled it closer to her face and shifted the plastic around in her hand to see the object inside clearly. It was small and pointed. It was a tooth.
"Where was this?"
"I found it lodged in the right femur, just above the knee. I took a few photos of it for your records before I removed it. It should help lead you to a species as well as any casts I can get."
"Thanks. Anything else?"
"I didn't find any identification on the body, but Grissom took the clothes and a few hair samples. I also sent a blood sample to the lab for processing. Something might come up with it."
Catherine smiled at the coroner before she left. She ignored the burnt body completely, almost running past it to get out. Her direction was to find Grissom and see what he had. If they could get a hit on CODIS or missing persons, they would have a name. Then they could find out the motive to why the boy had been killed.
The tooth felt heavy in her hand. She wanted to get to work on that as soon as possible. If it was canine, she wanted to know the size and breed. Dogs were never her favorite pet option and she didn't relish the idea of having to hunt down a couple of killer ones.
Grissom was bent over a table, a piece of evidence tape in his hand. He was pressing down on the clothes spread out in front of him looking for anything that shouldn't be on them. Already several hairs lifted from the pants. From initial looks, they were not human. It wasn't too surprising.
He heard Catherine walk into the room, "So?"
"Robbins found a tooth in his leg. Nothing as to who he is though."
"Yeah, I double checked the clothes and didn't find anything. I checked in with Mia and she was getting to work on the blood she got. She will page me once she gets something."
"Do you need help with anything?"
"Not here. Maybe you should start with that tooth and see if you can find our weapon."
"Right on it," Catherine turned to the computer that was on the other side of the room. She pulled on a pair of latex gloves and opened the baggie. The tooth fell out onto the steel. Reaching into a drawer she pulled open, Catherine grabbed a ruler. Quickly she took down a few measurements. The computer accepted the length, width, and depth with no problems.
It took a couple of seconds and a list popped up on the screen. There were four breeds of dogs that could have teeth the size of the one sitting in front of her. They were all large dogs. Doberman Pincher, German Shepard, Dalmatian, and Husky were on the list. Only one stuck out at Catherine. The Pincher was said to possibly have a bad side that a person could use to train it into a very bad dog.
"Hey Grissom, I have four dogs here that could be the tool."
The lead CSI looked up from the remains of a tennis shoe, "Well, the hairs I lifted were dark. Some where brown, other black."
"Well, that would remove Spot. The Husky would be unlikely as well unless it had dark fur. I would say we should look into the Pincher and the Shepard."
Catherine quickly hit a few more keys and entered the animal registry for Las Vegas. It was several long minutes before another list popped up. This was a list of all the registered dogs in the area and there owners. It seemed that people liked those two breeds immensely.
"I have twelve hits on the Pinchers and thirty-two for the Shepard. But only twenty have multiple dogs of either. Robbins said it had to be more than one by the looks of the teeth marks in the bones."
"We should call Vega and have him start the footwork on this one. We need each of these owners checked out. Have him take a vet with him to look over the dogs. And tell him to be careful."
The blonde woman grabbed her phone and hit the speed dial for Vega's phone. He picked up in three rings and was ready to listen. The information was relayed to the detective and he promised to have a couple of officers start on the list. He was also going to do a double check and make sure none of the owners were missed. Of course there was the risk that the dogs weren't registered, but neither wanted to look at that downside quite yet.
She hung up her phone and turned to talk to Grissom, but was beat by the ringing of the man's phone stopped her, "Grissom."
It was a tense moment as she tried to read the other's facial expression. He was a blank canvas and Catherine quickly gave up. Only the slight widening of his eyes told her something was up. Her ears were wide open as he flipped his phone shut.
"That was Mia. She wants us in her lab right away."
Quickly they both packed up their evidence and placed it out of the way to ensure no one messed anything up. Once things were safe and in place, they left the room, heading straight for the DNA lab. Grissom raised his eyebrows as they were joined by Nick and Warrick on the way. No one said anything to the other as they all walked through the same doorway together.
Mia looked up from the paperwork in her hands. She took in the four CSI's in front of her and sighed softly. This was going to be interesting to tell them all.
"I have worked through both samples from each of your victims. Once I have something to run the DNA against, I should have the identities of each, but that isn't why I called all of you in here."
She turned away from them and grabbed a new sheet of paper that had been sitting on her desk, "I found something interesting in each sample. It was so interesting I had to call Doc to make sure he didn't make any mistakes in his sample taking. He even sent up new vials for retesting just in case. But it was the same."
Grissom looked impatient, but his voice was even, "And what did you find?"
"Both were drugged with the same substance. It was hard to determine since it is organic in nature and rare, but I was able to figure it out with the database. It there had been more time for it to set in, they would have died from it instead of whatever really happened to them."
"And what was it?" Nick jumped in.
"It is a form of Batrachotoxins found in the species Phyllobates terriblis."
Warrick's eyes widened, "In what?"
"It's a species of tropical frog, the yellow dart-poison frog to be precise. Or what some people call the "true" poison-dart frog. It is the most poisonous of its family. The ranges of the toxicity vary between frogs, but a single frog can have enough to take out as many as 20,000 mice. From the small dosage I found in the sample of blood, I would say the same one was milked for awhile," Mia looked down at the papers in her hands, "But anyways, these toxins are used to block off sodium channels within muscle fibers which blocks off nerve signals. The victim shuts down slowly and eventually, the heart fails."
"But where in the hell would they get these frogs?" Warrick was shocked with the information.
Nick coughed softly, "You are able to purchase a range of dart frogs off the internet or through a rare pet store. They are not that hard to get a hold of. It isn't exactly the frog itself that is poisonous. It is actually what it eats that makes it so deadly. There are certain insects they eat in the tropics and that are what increases the toxins in their systems which makes them so deadly. If you keep them on another food source such as crickets or fruit flies, they are harmless."
Several pairs of eyes drilled right into the Texan's head. He blushed slightly at the full attention of his coworkers. Nick really hadn't meant to say as much as he had, but it just kept coming from his mouth. Animal Planet was getting into his head way too easily.
Grissom smirked suddenly, "I am impressed Nick. That is a lot of information a lot of people would never know. And I have to concur that you are right. It depends on the region, but it is insect species that they eat that change the toxins in their bodies. Most tropical areas in South and Central America are homes to ranges of ants and other insects that contain their own toxicity. The frogs use it as their own once it enters their bodies."
"So, both our victims have the same poison in their blood. What are the odds of that one happening?" Catherine asked in general.
No one had an answer. It did seem odd. Both bodies were found in different areas and there was nothing to connect them yet. And the causes of death were extremely different. They needed names and addressed on them. Something from their living time on earth may give them insight into why both were given these toxins and then murdered brutally.
Nick jumped when his phone beeped with the new incoming text message. He reached for it and flipped it open to take a look at the message. Vega needed him at that station, now. Looking up at Grissom's knowing smile, he nodded and walked away without a word.
***
#4The three kids were nervous. Both the taller boys kept shifting from foot to foot as they stood in the hallway. Their parents were being held in another room to get papers filled and signed. An officer as squatting down in front of them and informing them about what was going on. Once their parents got through to the new room, they would all be interviewed about what happened and what they saw.
Nick leaned back against the wall as he took in the scene. He had been assigned to do the interviews with Vega by Grissom. The senior CSI thought it would be best for him to talk with the kids since the younger population didn't seem afraid of the Texan. Nick hadn't informed the older man that it wasn't a matter of fear, but of patience and compassion.
There was commotion over at the entrance way and several names shouted out in a thick, Mexican accent. Nick turned to see Vega trying to herd the parents in the hallway without a big fuss, but the mothers all took off running for their child as soon as they saw them. The fathers were more composed, but even they walked quickly to their families.
Sam Vega shook his head and walked over to Nick, offering him his hand, "Hey. You get to do this with me?"
"Yeah. Do you think we should take them all in at once or split them up?"
"It might be best to keep them together for now. We can talk with each one separately if we need something cleared up. I don't want them freezing up on us in the room."
Nick nodded and walked into the interviewing room. There would be enough room for everyone to fit. He wanted to stand anyways. Vega usually did as well during this sort of thing. He stayed quiet and studied the kids as they were brought into the room. Only one parent was allowed in with them. Two fathers and one mother walked in and sat beside their child.
"My name is Sam Vega and this is CSI Nick Stokes. We are going to ask you a few questions about what happened tonight. But first I would like to confirm who is who."
The detective flipped through several papers he was holding and pulled out a single sheet with blocks of information on it. He turned to the first boy. This one was tall and lanky with a dark mop of hair on his head. His clothes were old and the jeans had several holes in them. The sneakers looked to be brand new, but Nick couldn't see what the brand was on them.
"You are…Roberto Molina Sanchez, correct? Age twelve."
The boy addressed nodded and at a prod from his father, he replied, "Yes sir."
"And you are Carlos Cruz-Venzula? Age eleven" this time addressing a short, pudgy boy with cropped black hair. This boy was nicely dressed in what almost looked like a school uniform. His shoes were black and shiny.
"Yes sir, that is me. And this is my mother, Rebecca."
Vega didn't bother addressing the mother, but gave her a nod of acknowledgement. He wanted to get to the questions, "And last, but not least, you are Miguel Johnson? Only eight?"
This boy was quiet and didn't even bothering looking up. His eyes were blank under the bangs of light brown hair. The red t-shit was crumbled and he wore jean shorts. His left knee was scrapped up and there were many scars littering his legs.
"Okay, good. Now, I would like all of you to answer to the best of your abilities. Don't hold anything back. We need to know what happened and how you came across the victim."
The detective nodded to Nick and the Texan took a deep breath, "Hey guys. I want to just start with all of you telling me what you doing at that park at that hour."
None of the boys jumped out with an answer. They exchanged looks with each other and shifted repeatedly within their chairs. Nick breathed slow and calm. He kept his face neutral. This was not going to be easy.
"Were you walking home or to someone's house? How about skating after hours?"
Carlos looked up at those questions, "No, we weren't skating. We cut through the park to get home. It was late and we didn't think there would be any cops around."
"Where were you coming from?"
"Um…we were at a friend's house."
"That late at night? Why didn't you have someone drive you?"
"No one owns a car from our hood, a'right. We didn't do anything, this is not us," Roberto spoke loudly as he moved to the front of his seat, "We just poor Mexican kids and we were out having fun. No one to get us home after it so we walked. The park is safe. Never had issues before. Body just come up out of no wheres man."
Vega looked over the sheets in his hands again. Once he found one he likes, he passed it on to Nick. Sure enough, two of the kids lived two streets away from the skating park, the other, about four. They probably cut through it to get to school as well since it was on the other side of the thing.
Miguel's father coughed to gain attention, "Are the kids at fault for anything Mr. Stokes? If they are, I would appreciate being told so. I would need my lawyer at that point."
Nick looked over at the taller man. The white skin was tanned, whether by booth or lotion Nick couldn't tell. His blonde hair was light and shaggy. Mr. Johnson was a couple sized bigger than Nick as well. He knew his rights. He was going to cause trouble if something were to continue on with the kids.
"That will be unnecessary sir. I just needed to know that your children came across the body in the park and didn't do anything with it."
Carlos shook his head quickly, "No, no. We didn't touch it. Miguel made us call from the pay phone in the park. He said we couldn't leave the person there with no one coming to get it. I called 911 and we waited."
"So Miguel, what made you think to call the police?"
The quiet boy slowly looked up and met Nick's eyes. His voice was timid and quiet. Nothing like his father standing over him, looking madder by the second. Neither of the other parents were saying a thing. Nick felt bad for thinking it, but he had a feeling they might not know English well enough to follow the entire conversation.
"My grandmamma always tells me to get help for others when they need it. Not to be like others that come from the South and ignore people in need. Get whatever possible."
Nick smiled at the boy, "That is good advice. She is a wise woman. And I was wondering, what happened to your leg Miguel?"
"Fell, at school. I was playing soccer," it was whispered.
The CSI took a deep breath and looked up at Vega. It was late and these kids needed to get to home and into bed. The detective nodded and stepped forward once again.
"We are going to let all of you go home now, but I would like everyone to stay home throughout the day. We might need to get a hold of all of you again and ask a few more questions. Thank you for all of this and I apologize for getting you all out of bed to come down here."
Vega stood at the doorway as the kids and their parents filtered out of the room. Nick rubbed his forehead and let his thoughts wonder. There wouldn't be much from any of these kids. They just happened to come across a body in a park. He felt bad that they were allowed to be in that situation in the first place. But that wasn't his job. That was someone's place to take care of.
"The kids didn't see anything. We don't have much more than we did before."
"Nope. Guess we are going to have to hope we get enough from the evidence to put something together. I highly doubt anyone saw anything with this. From what I hear, the parking lot is on the opposite side as all the houses. No one would be sitting at their windows anyways."
Sam smiled and grabbed Nick's shoulder, "I think I like the positive Stokes better."
"Yeah…me too."
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Catherine sat at her desk, the phone next to the stack of papers she was looking through. Grissom had been kind enough to give her Nick's work on the White case while he went off to talk with the three kids.
She was trying to figure out where Mr. White could possible be. It was confirmed that it was Sherie White in the house. Her husband should know why, but Brass couldn't find anything on the man. There was a trace out on his car and his credit cards, but nothing was coming up. There were still a few officers searching the city, but it seemed to be pointless at that point.
There was no reason for murdering his wife that was jumping out at the blonde woman as she scanned through the information she had managed to get a hold of on him. He was an accountant and made most of the income. The house was primarily under his name and he was the sole name on both cars they owned. Sherie White didn't seem to have anything he would want. His death was worth more in insurance as well,
A message was left for the man's boss so that when the firm opened for the day, it should be played right away. Catherine had given her cell number as the contact name. Someone from his job might know of something going on. They might know where he was hiding.
Hodges had filled her in on the igniter fluid used in the murder, but there would be no way to track the bottles. The database gave over ten thousand stores that sell that brand. Mr. White could have even been holding onto it for sometime waiting for the right moment to use it. It was a dead-end.
The photos of the tracks and treads from around the house were interesting. Greg was currently working on identifying the possible vehicles that could have been used. It was possible that the husband would have called in help for this. He could have gotten a couple of friends together and came in someone else's truck or van to the house. From the amount of foot tracks, as few as three people to as many as seven were possible.
It was the damn frog toxin that kept messing up any leads she produced in her head. It was odd that an accountant would know enough about exotic frogs to keep one at a poisonous level. And the extraction of the toxins was not an easy task to achieve. One would have to stress the frog and the gather the poison that it leaked out through its skin. It was tedious and hard work to do.
Her head was beginning to hurt to extreme levels. They needed to find the husband. Nothing was left at the house. It had been swept and nothing turned up. Clothes were destroyed, all personal products melted; even the television was nothing more than a black pile. She and Grissom had found nothing on their second run though. Something was not clicking.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Brass and Vega sat together in the department break room. Both detectives were stretched out to new limits. Nothing was coming up on either of their searches. The dog owners were all compliant and allowed the officers and vet to look at the animals, even at such an odd times at night. Everyone wanted to have their pets cleared from the label of murderer. None were missing a tooth or hair clumps. And as for the burning house owner, missing.
"There are days that I really hate this job. I swear, something is against us tonight."
Sam looked over at his colleague, "What makes you say that Jim?"
Brass dropped both his hands hard on the wooden table, "We have had some weird shit in our days, but this is new for me. I mean, damn, poison from frogs, house fires, and dog mauling? Makes me glad I no longer do work for CSI."
"What do you think is going on with all of this?"
"I'm unsure. I mean, the husband is the main suspect with his wife, but why would he kill the boy as well? There is no reason for anything like that."
Sam Vega took a sip of his coffee he held in his right hand. It was getting cold and the taste was bitter. He was glad that Jim was the other detective on this case. The older man knew his stuff and worked well with the entire CSI team. Sam was becoming good friends with most of them, but he was no where near the other cop.
"So Jim, what do you suggest we do from this point? We can have cops checking over this entire city, but I think we have hit a dead end. I talked with the kids that found the boy, but none of them saw anything with the actual drop. They just happened to be in the wrong place. And you have nothing from that house."
"Nope. We have nothing other than the bodies. Let us just hope that…."
The cell phone ringing broke both men's thoughts and conversation. Brass looked stunned at the intrusion and took a moment to reach for the small machine. His hands fumbled with it for a moment as he flipped it open and raised the antenna.
"Brass."
Vega watched the frown lines grow deeper and more pronounced. The younger man would have never thought such a frown was possible. His face would never be able to pull it off. But he kept his face neutral and uninterested as Brass snapped his phone shut with a growl.
"Well, Mr. White is accounted for."
"I would have thought that was good news."
"It would have been if the man had been found alive."
***
#5Warrick and Nick came upon the scene after what seemed to be the entire police department blocked the area off. The two CSI's walked around to the back of the large house, following Officer Kehls. The young office was quiet and walked stiffly. Nick would tell all this was beginning to wear on the newer man.
"Detective Brass and Vega are back here. They are by the wooden gazebo."
With a nod, Warrick took the lead and they left Andrew behind them. The two cops were standing close and were talking to each other. Neither seemed aware of anything around them.
"Hey Brass, what's going on? What did you call us for?"
"We found the husband. Mr. White is in there."
Nick didn't bother asking any questions and went straight for the doorway. The smell hit him first. It smelled like boiled pig fat. Mr. Ralph White was face down in the cooling water of the hot tub. He skin was bloated out and looked waxy. His left foot was hooked over the edge.
"Shit. What the hell is going on!"
The Texan stood to the side to allow for Warrick to enter the small space. The taller CSI looked around with hard, green eyes. Mr. White was only three houses from his own. It would be far fetched to believe the man walked to his neighbor's house to boil himself alive in a private tub.
"Where are the owners of this house?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Furber are away for the week. I have contacted them at her sister's house in New York. No one else lives here."
With a deep breath, Nick stepped closer to the side of the large green tube. It looked to hold up to six people and had several stairs around in it to get in and out easily. This was something Nick had always wanted for his home. Maybe not so much anymore.
"We are going to need to get this whole thing back to the lab. Drain the water and take it as well," Nick looked to Warrick for agreement.
"Yeah. We should process it all there. Who's the coroner coming?"
Vega popped his head in, "Phillips is on his way. I told him to be prepared for water log."
Warrick snapped a few photos of the tub and body. He leaned close to the ridge of the plastic and couldn't figure out any point where the body was dumped in. A look to his left proved there was only one door in and out. They would need to check out the lawn.
"How many people have been in this area?"
"Well, the neighbor that lives in that house," Brass pointed right, "Smelled something odd. He walked out into his backyard to see what it was and noticed the lights on in here. With the Furbers gone, he figured something was up and walked over to check it out. He found Mr. White and called 911. Other than him, Sam and I. That is it. I kept everyone else away and to the front of the house."
The taller CSI nodded and left his partner in the gazebo. His eyes swept the ground with his flashlight. In a few areas, the grass was compacted down, but there was no distinct sign of distress. He snapped a few more pictures of the entrance way and the surrounding lawn. This would all be ripped up when they removed the tub.
David Phillips walked around the house with a gurney following behind him. The black bag felt heavy in his hands. He could see Warrick walking around outside the wooden structure. Nick must still be inside of it. He didn't hesitate as he walked forward.
"Hey Warrick."
"Hey Dave. Body's in there, man."
The smell was strong, but David had been subject to much worst. He could deal with this. The body was no longer face down. Nick had turned the man over and pulled him closer to the edge. The CSI was looking over the white, bubbly face. There was no sign of trauma.
"Nick. Are you ready for me to take him?"
"Yeah, hey there Dave. You gonna need help getting him out?"
"I have help. Thanks though. You should probably get started on the tub processing."
Nick nodded and starred into the water depth. It was a fairly shallow tub. He could see the bottom with ease. There was a brown substance against the green. Warrick said there had been dirt turned up at the other house. They should be able to get a match between the samples.
The Texan walked out and headed towards the front of the house once again. He pulled out his cell phone and rang for Greg, "Hey boss. I need you to bring the wet vac and several large containers. We have a hot tub to drain and bring in to the lab….get the flatbed….see you then."
Now that the call was made, Nick stopped in his tracks. He bent forward and placed his left hand on his knee, the right one still clutching the phone. This was becoming one weird night and there were still a couple hours left before the sun rose over the horizon to scare away everything bad in the night.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Grissom watched Greg gather the vacuum and head out to one of the company trucks. He had heard about what happened with their main suspect in the house fire and murder. Catherine hadn't dug up anything on the White's to give motive for murder. And now the husband was dead, most likely murdered as well.
The body was on the way to the lab with Dave. Grissom wanted to be in the room when Robbins began his work. Anything on the body could give another suspect to the team. They had nothing from the boy in terms of a guilty party. No missing person report fit the possible description of the kid. He was clean with no record so nothing came up with finger prints. They had nothing on the kid.
The senior CSI walked slowly down the deserted hallway and thought about everything that had happened in the short hours of that night. The locations of all the bodies were not that far from each other in all reality. And it was confirmed that the same frog was used on the two victims down in the freezers. It was a stretch to believe that Sherie White may have been cheating on her husband with the young man and the husband killed them both, then in guilt killed himself. Grissom was not going to buy suicide for any of them.
Through the glass walls he could see the techs hard at work on several different cases, trying to fix lives and bring peace for the people remaining. He was missing something. It was a small issue, but something in the back of his head was screaming at him. Grissom let his feet take over and they took him to the morgue. The lights were dim as he pushed open the door.
Frosted glass doors waited for him as he approached the freezers. Gil studied them until he picked one at random. He didn't know who was in any of them. But the chance proved safe. The young male was lying on the sliding table. Grissom pulled it out with ease. A new smell wafted out with it.
"What the hell!"
Grissom leaned in closer and his eyes got even wider. His phone was pulled from his belt and flipped open. Catherine answered in two rings.
"Catherine. The kid was at the damn house….he smells like lighter fluid."
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
The bushes were low to the ground, but it kept the two huddled bodies safe from the eyes and ears of all the police hanging around. The larger of the two kept shifting around. His nerves were shot. This was not supposed to happen. The husband wasn't supposed to be found this quickly, not according to their master.
"Fuck! What are we going to do?"
"It's your fault for wearing a watch. We are not going to get it back. The cops are going to have it. Tough shit for you man," a feminine voice taunted, "Come on, let's go. We have to get back."
The bushes barely shuffled as they ducked and ran through the dark yards. Things were set in to motion and they had news for their master.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Drowning victims were always interesting to work with, but Doc Albert Robbins never let anything get in his way. This body had been submerged under the boiling water in the beginning of his asphyxia. There was almost a half gallon of water that was pumped from the victim's lungs. It sat within a glass jar ready for processing.
Robbins studied the neck and shoulders the man. There was no sign of bruises or marks from strangulation by an object, but of course the maceration of the skin made it all the more difficult to tell. And since this body had been in extremely warm water, the skin absorbed a lot of water. Most of the hands were white and thick, covered in wrinkles. If the doctor didn't have the man's wallet with his picture ID inside, Robbins might have through this man was elderly by those hands.
Carefully, he picked up the right hand and examined the nails. They were soft, but still strongly attached to the hands. Using a wooden stick, he cleaned out from underneath all the nails on the hand. Not much other than bloated flesh fell from the nails. There was no sign of a struggle.
With a sigh, Robbins slowly made his way to the rolling table he had set up with tools and syringes. He picked one up and carefully located a vein in the arm of the victim. The blood slowly got pulled out the dead skin with a pull of the cork on the end of the vial. It would be a good sample to send to Mia.
The morgue door swung open and heavy footsteps echoed throughout the room. Grissom didn't even bother to say hello, which the coroner really didn't mind at all. The other man just wanted to know what he could from Mr. White.
"Well, this is an interesting case. I would have preferred they used cold water to drown this man. Warm to hot water does nothing, but speed up all the process of death. I will not be able to place a good T.O.D. on this, Gil. The body is still cooling from the inside as we speak."
"What do we have then?"
"Well, the maceration of the skin is greater than normal. Even if he had been in that water for only thirty minutes, he is showing signs of being in the tub for at least six hours. And as for the rigor mortis, as you know, persists longer when submerged. It seems that in the fourth stage of Mr. White's drowning he clutched his left hand together. I haven't tried to loosen the fingers yet," the doctor moved around the body a little, "As you can see his body has taken a pinkish color similar to those that die from carbon monoxide poisoning. Hypostasis confirms that the body was face down in the water when you found him. You can see it clearly in the face, the upper part of the chest, and the lower portion of his arms."
"Do you think the man was alive when he was placed in the tub?"
"Placed?"
Grissom nodded his head, "Yeah, I am not taking the easy way out with suicide on this one."
"Alright then," Robbins walked to the man's head and tipped it backwards, exposing the open mouth and throat, "As you can see, there is a froth cone present in his airway. There is some blood mixed in with the mucus and water, but I cannot say yet that there was a chest trauma. In fact, I haven't seen any signs of a struggle."
The two men stood and stared down at the body. Grissom didn't like any of this at all. If there had been someone else involved in all of this, it would seem odd that Mr. Ralph White didn't fight for his wife or even his own life. And if he had been placed into the hot tub while still breathing, wouldn't he have fought to get out?
"Did you get a blood sample?"
"Right here. Do you want to take it up to Mia?"
"Sure, I can do that. Keep working. See if you can find anything that might connect him to the other two murders. Look everywhere for something that might show a fight, defensive or offensive."
Grissom walked from the cool room with the blood vial in his hand. He looked down and read the label closely to make sure everything was correct even though he trusted Doc Robbins completely. It was just an anal thing about the way he worked. Double check everything, chance nothing.
He passed Catherine on his way to the DNA and blood lab. She looked pleased with herself, "Well, Hodges matched the lighter fluids. They are the same. But the boy doesn't have a burn mark on his body anywhere Gil. If he was in the same house and got some of the liquid on him, wouldn't he have some sign of a burn?"
"Remember what Warrick and Greg said. There was a sign of a struggle in the backyard and it looked like someone was dragged from the house. It is possible the boy was present in the house when Mrs. White was being doused, but not for the actual burning."
"I guess that is possible. What do you have there?"
Grissom looked down into his hand again, "A sample from Mr. White."
The blond CSI nodded her head and shifted her weight. She too was worried about this now-combined case. They had to come up with something or they were going to go nowhere really quickly. With another nod, she turned on her heels and continued on to her office.
Grissom found Mia starring at a blank computer screen. The black woman seemed to be in deep thoughts about something. Some other time he would feel guilty over disturbing her.
"I have some new blood for you to work with."
"I figured as much," the stool swiveled as she turned to face her night supervisor, "New vic?"
"Yeah, this belongs to Mr. White, the burn victim's husband. I need you to see what you can dig up on it. And…check for the frog toxin as well."
The tech's eyebrows shot up, "You think?"
"I never stop. Let me know what you find."
He handed off the vial and left the room. Once he was back in the hallway, Grissom could hear a commotion at that end of the hallway. It was the large lab room where they did most of their work with automobiles and large objects. He was pretty sure that was where Greg parked the hot tub from the Furber's backyard.
Sure enough, Nick, Greg and Warrick were all standing around it arguing with each other. The lead CSI simply stood in the doorway and took in the scene. None of them could decide on what to do with the damn thing.
"Oh come on Nicky! Why would we want to take the entire thing apart! I mean, damn! This thing is huge and we will get nothing out of it."
Nick shot Warrick a glare, "Just pulling out the filters will do nothing. We need to check out the entire filter system and that is inside the tube walls. How else do you propose we get to it?"
Greg just looked between the two. He had seen the fights these two could have over a case and was not interesting in getting in between them. Both could crush him in a second. He wasn't sure he had enough sick time to cover the hospital time. As Warrick slammed his hand down on the rim of the green plastic, Greg was once again trying to figure out how these two could be best friends most of the time.
"How much time do you think we have here, man? That will take hours!"
"Well, what the hell else do we have to do right now!"
Grissom had had enough, "Okay guys. What is going on in here?"
The three men whipped to face their boss, all different expressions. Greg looked guilty, Nick looked defiant, and Warrick looked like he could have cared less. Grissom would have smiled if it was under different circumstances.
"We are trying to figure out how to process the tube and all the water," Greg mumbled.
"It would seem best to me that we process the entire filtration system of this thing. Spilt up the jobs and take apart the tub. Let me know what you guys get."
Nick grinned as he watched his boss leave the room. When he looked over at Warrick, he was lucky that looks weren't lethal. He was going to hear about this one later that was for sure. The taller man would torture him somehow.
"Alright, since you, 'Rick decided the tub didn't need to come apart, I think you should take that step. Greg, you can take care of the actual filters and see if there is anything caught in the fibers. I'll take the tub itself and check out the inside."
"You sure sound like you are in charge here Nicky."
"Well, that is what happens, man, when the best of the group knows what is going on."
Warrick chuckled and smiled, "Best my ass. If you are the best that we have, I will eat a chicken head."
"A little gruesome isn't that bro?"
"First thing that came to mind, lay off."
"I would hate to know what other first things come to you mind."
Greg coughed, "Are you two done yet? We have work to do!"
Both men glanced at each other and then faced the newest member of the graveyard team, "We are working!"
The tones of their voices mixed well. Greg shook his head and turned from the laughter. He loved working with the two guys, but their sense of humor escaped even him on times. It was a wonder that Grissom didn't call in extra help just to keep those two under wraps.
The former lab rat watched the two CSI's begin to work together to work on the tub. Warrick bent down and began running his gloved hand over the edges trying to find the bolts. Nick sat down on the ground to slip some rubber boots over his shoes so he could climb on in. With a slight laugh to himself, Greg walked over and took a look at the filter entrances.
There were two. Careful not to fall in, Greg bent over the edge of the tube and looked into the hole in the plastic. It was a basic hot tub filter and he would be able to take the filter grate off with little problem. Greg leaned in a little farther in order to get his hand in. His body tensed when he felt a hand on his back. The added weight caused him to fight it and stand up.
Nick slid against the bottom once he lost Greg as his balance. The tube was slick from the mud and he had to lean on Greg for a second to stabilize his footing. Gravity was not on his side and with a soft grunt, he sat heavily down in the tube. Something hard jabbed into his right butt cheek.
"Thanks Greg."
"Damn Nick. You scared the crap out of me there. Don't do that!"
Warrick just laughed. He watched the scene play out and almost fell himself when Nick did. It was hilarious. Greg was breathing hard against his shock and sudden frustration. Nick was trying to stand up again.
"Do you need a hand, bro?"
Nick glared at him from his seated position in the tub, "That would be nice. You guys do suck though. Man, something is biting into my ass!"
Grabbing the hand that was thrust out at him, Warrick pulled and managed to get Nick on his feet. The Texan turned immediately and looked back down to where he had been forced to sit. There was something shiny standing out from the dark brown of the mud. He leaned down and dug the object out.
"Well I'll be. Either Mr. White likes to wear two watches or our killer got messy."
"What are you going on about?"
Nick smirked as he looked his partner in the eye, "When I was looking over Mr. White in the tub at the scene, he had his watch on. And I got bit by the other one. Here, take it."
Warrick took the watch and wiped some more dirt off of it. It was a Rolex knock off, but it was well done. It was made to actually work for longer than a day. Not a purchase from downtown or on the Strip, that was for sure. Warrick bagged it and wrote a few notes on the envelope for later.
Greg studied the trap he pulled out from the first filter. There was nothing major in it, but there were a few hair samples. Most would probably be from the owners, but some might be the victim. He was going to have to be careful to get them all from both.
"Well, nothing else, but a shit load of mud in here. Either Mr. White was rolled in it before he was dropped in here, or the killer got pulled in as well."
"Take a sample, then get out. I need to take the damn thing apart thanks to you," Warrick grumbled.
"Ya know," Nick smiled sweetly, "I was going to help you with it, but if you are going to cop that attitude, I think I won't."
The taller CSI gave Nick a slight push when the Texan tried to get out. It off balanced him again, but this time Nick ended up landing, hard, on the ground. Warrick stopped laughing as soon as he heard the moan. It wasn't one of embarrassment.
"Nick? Buddy?"
Greg helped Warrick as they reached down and pulled Nick up by the arms. Nick's face was twisted up in a pain filled grimace. "That hurt."
"Shit man! What happened? What hurts?"
"My arm."
Greg carefully took the limb out of Nick's hold and prodded it starting at the elbow. When he got to the wrist, Nick gave out a low hiss. His eyes scrunched up and he pulled to get his arm back from Greg's hands.
"You may have done something to you wrist. You need to get it looked at."
"Great. Just what I need."
Warrick looked crestfallen, "Shit Nicky. I'm sorry! I didn't mean for anything to happen!"
"Hey, it was an accident. Don't go all girly on me man," Nick tried to grin, but it didn't work as Greg continued to push on his hand.
"Whatever. I will take ya to Robbins. He might know what is up."
Nick didn't argue with Warrick as he grabbed him by the shoulder and started leading him from the room. His cheeks flushed at the stares they were getting, but Warrick wouldn't let him go. The other man was way too protective when he got in one of his moods. When Grissom looked up from his desk when they passed his office, Nick sped up a little. He wanted this over with so they could get back to work. And, damn, his wrist really hurt.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Catherine looked up from some delayed paperwork when Grissom walked in. His face was void of any emotion and she didn't bother trying to find anything. She could only hope that he had some good news to tell her.
"Do you have any idea why Nick and Warrick are running around the lab?"
"What?"
"They both just ran past my office. I was wondering if they came to talk to you about it."
"I haven't seen either of them. Weren't they working with Greg?"
The senior CSI nodded his head once and then left the lab. Catherine got up and was hot on his heels. They both were almost to the room where they could see Greg struggling with the tub when Mia walked into their path.
"Hey boss. I have the results from Mr. White's sample. It came back positive for the frog toxin. He had about the same level as the other two. I would have to say he was drugged with it before he drowned since it isn't diluted."
"Well, that takes White out as our suspect. Robbins bagged his clothes, see if you can find Hodges and have him check to see if there is any trace of that lighter fluid on them."
The lab tech nodded and began to move away, "Sure thing."
Catherine called to stop the other woman, "Hey Mia, you know what Nick and Warrick are going on about?"
"No, but I do know that Warrick was moving them pretty quickly to the morgue when I saw them."
The two CSI's looked at each other and turned around. No one got in their way this time as they finally reached the steel double doors. They both stopped once they entered the room.
Nick was sitting up on top of one of the steel tables, his shirt sleeve rolled up. Warrick was hovering around behind the other man. Doc Robbins had his glasses on and the light focused on Nick's wrist. Every time he pushed on the area, Nick would wince.
"I would have to say, I think you may have a broken wrist. You should have this x-rayed. I'll call ahead over to Desert Palms so you can get right in. Warrick you will have to take him."
Grissom got over his silence, "Now what happened? And no excuses. You were only supposed to be looking over that hot tub."
"It's my fault."
"I slipped."
The two men answered at once, but Catherine had no problem getting all the words and the guilt behind Warrick's, "How did this happen?"
Warrick cleared his throat and started before Nick could say a word, "We were goofing around and when Nick was getting out of the tub, I gave him a little push. It was enough to cause him to fall and now his wrist might be broken."
"It was an accident," Nick threw in quickly at the end.
A sigh filled the room. The two CSI Level 3's glanced at each other as they took in their boss's face. This was not going to be good.
"Get to the hospital. Give me a call when you know what is going on. I'll go help Greg finish up with the tub. Catherine, go check with Mia and Hodges. See if you can gather all the evidence on the three vic's and create a scene."
Grissom turned around without another word. Catherine smiled, "You boys are going to be the death of me."
"Sorry mom."
"You both better be," her exit was just as quiet as Grissom's.
"Alright man. Lets go radiate your ass and see what's up."
Nick nodded and let Warrick help him off the table. It was pointless to fight the other man. He was going to go all big brother on him and there was little Nick could do to stop it. This always happened. It was easier to let it go. Nick grinded his teethe slightly as he felt the rush of blood back to his cheeks as they walked into the main lobby before the doors. People were starring again.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
The blindfold kept even the tiniest of light from reaching his pupils. He could hear the others around him, but couldn't keep the voices clear. They were constantly moving and not allowing him to place them. He knew who was here. This was nothing new to the group.
He was sitting in a chair they had placed in an empty pool. It wasn't a large pool, nothing to brag too much about. But it seemed deep and large now. And they were going to fill it. This was not supposed to happen to him. He couldn't keep the sobs in.
Stuff was floating through his veins. He knew what it was. They had all been colleagues, he knew their secrets. The frog toxin was something he knew very well. He just had never collected it, but he had spent a few hours over time watching the frogs in their glass world. He only wished they had given it sooner so that he would be more numb while this was happening.
"Why? Why me?"
No one said a word to him. They simply kept whispering around him. Something started to hum and churn. There was some excitement going on as he heard a liquid hitting the tile of the pool bottom. It took only a couple of seconds for whatever it was to begin to lap at his shoes. A hand touched his face and the blindfold was gone. He could see everything.
He watched the other person as they walked through the forming sea of yellow. It was getting higher as it poured out of the large mixer sitting on the back of a truck. He hated the color, feared it. His mother had always worn it when she used her belt on him or his siblings. Now they were using it against him, like they did with everyone.
The pleading was nothing to the others. They all simply sat there and watched as it reached up to his neck. It was pouring quicker than he would have thought. The taste was not what he expected. He was going to die in a world of complete yellow. He screamed as his throat filled.
***
#6The room was white. Everything about it screamed sterile and clean. It might have been what the White's kitchen looked like before it went up in flames. Nick started to count the tiles on the ceiling above his head. It was boring in this hospital room.
Warrick was sitting in the hard plastic chair next to the examination bed that the Texan was forced to sit on. The other man's head was tipped down. His breath was deep and quiet. Nick was tempted to harass the other man while he caught a nap, but didn't want to have to see the guilt written all over that face again so soon. He would get enough as it was.
The doctor had gone off to get his x-rays that were taken almost two hours ago. Nick wanted to go home and crash. Their shift was officially over an hour ago and Warrick got a call from Grissom saying they were done until next shift. It sounded like he sent everyone home for some rest. But Nick was stuck starring at tiles on the ceiling.
He counted to three hundred forty nine when the door opened and his doctor slipped into the room. The woman was tiny, no taller than five and a half feet. It wouldn't take much to be able to crush her. But her face showed her strength and her intelligence. Dr. Susan Mercer was not a doctor Nick would ever mess with.
The doctor looked at the other man in the room before she began to speak in soft tones, "Well, Mr. Stokes. You have broken your wrist in two places. We are going to need to set the bones and cast you before you are allowed to leave. And then you are to take some time off of work."
"Sorry, but I won't be able to do that. This is a big case we are working on and everyone will be needed. Just give me some of those awesome pain pills you have and I will be ready to go."
"Sorry Nick, but I am not going to give you those pills just so you can back to work and dig yourself into another hole. I am tired of fixing you up all the time."
"But this is just two little broken bones, no bullet holes, concussions, or strangle marks. Plain and simple. Easy to fix."
Dr. Mercer frowned, "I could wake your friend and have this talk with him."
"No, no," Nick sat up straighter, "I will do as you say. Let's go do this. Maybe we will be back before he even wakes up."
"Fine, I'll have a nurse check on him to make sure he knows what is going on just in case. Now, do you want the green pants or should we go with the tie gown?"
"You just want to see my ass. It'll cost you more than you make. Just give me the damn pants."
Both laughed softly as Dr. Mercer led Nick from the room. He followed slowly as they made their way to another room that Nick had never been in. He really didn't know this hospital all that well, no matter how many trips he had made to it.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Greg Sanders stood and starred down at the floor. He was tired and his eyes were beginning to burn from overuse. The tub was in pieces at his feet and he had gone over every inch of it with a fine tooth comb and a tweezers. All the contents he had uncovered were sitting in their individual little baggies on the table to his left. Hair, mud, hair, something black and slimy, and more hair.
The filter system was more impressive then he would have ever thought possible on a mere hot tub. It extended the entire length from each of the filter slots and there were four main filter sponges along the way. The traps were effective and caught many things. Greg only hopped to find something in the less visible to the eye.
He looked down at his watch and saw that his shift had been over an hour and forty minutes ago. After he heard the commotion caused in the hallway from Catherine and Grissom, he hadn't seen anyone. With a deep breath, Greg turned his back on the dismantled tub and left the room. The door to the room closed and sealed. Greg walked swiftly down the hallway to where he had a feeling Grissom would be.
Sure enough, Grissom was sitting behind his desk and looking over some papers. The former lab tech shifted on his feet before he worked up the courage to actually enter the sanctuary. Billy the bass didn't offer a tune for Greg, but Grissom did look up to see who had entered.
"Greg, I thought you left by now? I told everyone to get some sleep."
"Nah, I just finished up with the tub. I went over it and found nothing major. The water from the tub and from the removal of the body washed away any possible prints. I did manage to get some stuff from the filter traps. I was going to go over it."
"Greg, go home. Get some sleep and come back. Fresh start, fresh eyes. I will have the area sealed off for you. Warrick will be able to help you later again as well."
"Nick not coming back?"
"I haven't heard anything from either."
"Where are they?"
"Doc sent them off to Palms. I would assume they are both still there and not at home yet."
Grissom watched as Greg nodded his head slowly. He really didn't need to be a scientist to know the younger man was not going to make a straight trip home. Not hearing from either of his CSI's was a little unnerving for the supervisor since it most likely meant something serious had happened from the horsing around. It was not something they need right now.
"Well, I'll head out then. See you next shift."
Greg didn't wait for a response as he booked it out of the office. Desert Palms was not far out of the way on his route home. He would be able to swing in and see what was going on. It had to be more serious than Nick played if he was sent to the hospital. No one stopped him on his way to the locker room to get changed and to grab his keys.
He nodded at Hodges as the other man exited the room as he walked in. Greg's locker had been moved since he had become a CSI and it was now located closer to Nick's. It opened with no problems and Greg hastily ripped off the buttoned shirt he wore for the shift. His body praised him for the soft cotton of one of his infamous t-shirts that supposedly had disappeared. Someone would have to pry the worn cotton from his dead, cold hand before they met a trash can.
Making sure he had his wallet, Greg grabbed his keys and slammed the locked shut. The sound echoed around the room, but Greg didn't waste time to see how long it jumped around the room. Nick, Warrick and he had already done that. If there was no one else in the room and everyone stood close together by the bench, four seconds.
His car was waiting and ready when he opened the door and dropped inside. No one was leaving the lab at the moment and there was no hassle with traffic. He reached the visitor parking lot of the hospital in no time. The glass sliding doors were quiet as he stepped into the sterile environment. He paused slightly at the doorway, shadows of the past crept by him. Greg shook it off and set his mind on something else before former boogie men could jump from their closets.
The lady at the front desk was twirling a pencil and snapping her gum when Greg stepped up to her, "Hi, I'm looking for a patient."
"Name," her tone was bored and clipped. She didn't even look up.
"Stokes. Nick Stokes. He just came in about an hour ago I guess it would be."
The woman's fake nails clinked at the keys as she typed in the name and her eyes lazily read the records it gave, "He is still in emergency. Go check there."
Greg didn't say another word as he left the woman to herself. The emergency area was easy to find since all you really had to do was follow the signs that read EMERGENCY and had red arrows pointing down hallways. It was fairly busy.
Seeing another desk with another woman behind it, Greg prepped himself for another rude encounter, "I'm looking for a patient who came in about an hour ago."
The brunette almost seemed to bounce with excitement as she looked up and focused on Greg. Her teeth were shiny and white as she flashed him a large smile. Her dimpled proved it wasn't a fake and just for show. Her entire attitude screamed overdose on coffee. Greg knew it well.
"And what is the name?"
"Nick Stokes."
"Oh, the poor man with the arm thing. Nice guy, nice looking guy," she giggled slightly at that, "He is down that hallway, room seven."
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
"No prob. Don't let him leave until he comes up here first. I want to give him my phone number, just in case you know."
"I'll see what I can do," Greg smiled and walked away.
Only Nick would be able to have girls throwing themselves at him in a hospital. Greg would never be able to say anything like that. It was said and hilarious all at the same time. But the woman was nice, even though Greg never did look to see what her name was. Nick might already know.
A baby was crying off to his left as he watched the room numbers go by with each footstep he took. It wasn't a long walk to find seven and he knocked softly before he let himself in. The bed was empty. Warrick looked like he was about to fall on the floor. Greg felt like he was five again as he stalked over to the other man, a grin on his entire face. He pressed his lips together to hold in the laughs as he gently reached out and brushed his fingertips across Warrick's left cheek.
The other man hit the tile, "What the! What!"
Greg lost his battle with the laughter, "Oh damn, that was funny. I wish there were cameras in this place. I would pay big bucks to get a copy."
"You are a dead man."
"That's illegal."
"Only if you get caught. I think I can make that not an option."
"You wouldn't. Who would make you coffee?"
"Starbucks," the taller CSI deadpanned.
"Cold, just cold, dude. Here I thought I liked you."
"I told you never to think. But what the hell are you doing here?"
Greg hopped onto the currently unused bed, "I wanted to check up on you guys since you both left me alone to take that stupid tub apart. My hands are not used to that kind of work you know."
Warrick rubbed his face with both his hands. His neck hurt and now so did his ass. Finally realizing he was still sitting on the floor like a fool, Warrick pushed himself up and back into his chair. And his eyes took in the sight of the bed that Greg was sitting on.
"Where the hell is Nick?"
"I dunno. Did you lose him already? This is a hospital, geez."
The taller man pulled his body upright and walked to look out into the hallway. There was no one running around that he could see at the moment. Nick must have gotten pulled out by the doctor again. Warrick sighed as he went back into the room and sat back in his ass numbing chair. His body was tired and didn't like all this sudden movement.
"He must be with the doctor again. I don't know what really happened yet. Fell asleep."
"I could see that. But I can wait. I am curious after all."
"Curiosity killed the lab rat. You should just head home and get some sleep Greg. We can fill you in on the entire gory details next shift."
"I don't think Grissom will let Nick back if he hurt himself."
"We'll deal with that when we come to it. Nick won't not go in."
Their conversation was interrupted by voices coming down the hallway. The laughter was easy for both men to recognize. Nick's laugh had its own category. The Texan was smiling when he walked back into the room, the small doctor right behind him.
"Well lookie here, you're finally awake and another guest. I must be the man of the hour."
Nick's face dropped when he saw neither man was looking up, but down. Both men had their eyes directed to the sling around his shoulder, holding his arm immobile. The chunk of white plaster gave away the cast immediately. Warrick looked a little pale.
"Shit Nick, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to do that!"
"Warrick, shut up. This isn't your fault. It was an accident and it will be fine. Just two broken bones. A few weeks and this thing will be off and I will be kicking you ass at basketball once again."
Dr. Mercer stepped forward, "One of you needs to drive him home. I have started his pain meds and he shouldn't be driving with them. I called in the prescription so it should be ready for pick-up. Don't let him do anything stupid and make sure he gets plenty of rest. You should be out of work for at least a week Nick."
"Sure," Nick didn't meet the doctor's eyes.
"I'll make sure he gets his stuff and gets his rest. You're under my care now bro."
"Great. You'll see me within a few hours dead and a look of fear on my face. Momma Warrick leaves a lot to the imagination."
The doctor laughed and turned around, "Just don't kill each other boys. Go home and get some sleep, all of you. Each one of you looks ready to drop."
None of the men had a chance to answer. Greg stood and walked over to Nick. He smiled at the other man and studied the brown eyes. Nick was on something, strong. His eyes were relaxed and slightly glossy.
"Seeing the fact they didn't amputate, I am going to take my leave. See you guys later. Night!"
"See ya Greggo. Thanks for visiting."
Warrick pushed himself up again, his body protesting again. He grabbed his keys from the table he had set them on and wheeled Nick from the room. The Texan didn't say a word as he walked towards the exit doors to the emergency area. The perky woman behind the desk sat up straighter as they approached. Nick didn't have a chance to stop. Warrick shoved him hard in the lower back to keep moving.
A glare was turned to Warrick as he stepped up to the counter, "I need to know where his meds are at and is there something for at home care to grab?"
"Yeah, yeah. Here are some sheets on keeping the cast clean and dry…and his scripts were sent to the Walgreens. Should be ready. Said no wait," it was all mumbled.
Warrick grabbed the sheets she thrust at him and walked out the doors to meet up with Nick. The other man was standing at the curb, his eyes closed. Warrick was slow with his actions as he placed a hand on Nick's shoulder to get him moving again. They walked in silence to the truck.
Nick starred out the window the entire ride to the Walgreens and didn't try to change the radio station like normal. It was odd, but nothing that made Warrick worry. He was too busy dealing with his own emotions at all of this anyways. There were no other cars in the pharmacy drive-thru when he pulled up. The clerks were efficient and kind. There were no problems and the pharmacist was clear on the medication instructions. Warrick answered for Nick on all the questions.
The drive to Nick's townhouse was quick and Warrick hopped out of the car when it stopped in the drive way. Nick as slower to move out of the car. The adrenaline of the night was gone and now there was only pain and exhaustion. He handed over his keys to his friend and waited to be let in. The house was warm and only served to make him even more tired as he walked through his living room.
"I'll set your keys and pills on the counter man. Do you need another one now?"
"No, I got enough of a jump start from the doc," it was garbled to Warrick as the other man continued to walk away towards the bedroom.
Warrick got things settled on the counter and went after the other man. He snorted in laughter when he saw Nick already passed out of the bed, legs hanging over the side. It took a little work, but he managed to get Nick onto the bed fully. He positioned a couple of the extra pillows around his upper body to keep him from rolling on the injured limb. There was going to be no way he was going to get the sling off, but he settled for the shoes.
Once Nick was covered with a blanket, Warrick walked out into the living room and dropped onto the couch. It was comfortable and Warrick really didn't feel like driving anymore. And besides, Nick might need his help sometime in the day time. Getting used to an arm cast could always be a pain. And from the look he had gotten of it, his fingers and thumb here not as free to use anymore.
Warrick kicked off his shoes and grabbed one of the throw blankets to throw over himself. It was warm and he knew he wouldn't need more than that. His eyes were shut almost right away after he dropped his head onto the Texas A&M pillow. His phone going off and ringing didn't even cause him to stir.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Catherine hung her phone up harshly. She turned to Gil who was watching her every move, "No answer. I can't get a hold of any of them. Not even Greg."
"Well, they were all pretty tired when they left. And Nicky might be on some pain medication right now as well. We will have to wait."
"But this isn't something that can just wait Gil."
"We can handle it. And, we don't even know if it is part of our case yet."
Catherine shook her head in frustration, "No, but another dead body. Weird cause? It is too suspicious to be anything else."
Grissom didn't say a word and they both left the break room together. Brass just had called in with a new body. The detective didn't sound happy. They were all going into serious overtime. But how often did you get a body covered in yellow paint found in a parked car? Both CSI's walked out, dragging a little.
***
Next part of Poisonous Fear.
- Main CSI page
- The new stories
- Gil/Greg stories
- Gil/Nick stories
- Gil/Warrick stories
- Nick/Greg stories
- Nick/Warrick stories
- Greg/Warrick stories
- Nick/Bobby stories
- Jim Brass stories
- David Hodges stories
- f/f stories
- CSI: New York stories
- CSI: Miami stories
- Other pairings & threesomes
- Gen CSI stories
- C.S.I. Crime Scene Investigation: The Complete Ninth Season
