[ Witness Statement 2247: Maria Calvo "...He left after plate four from the buffet and probably Dos Equis number two from the bar. Last I could tell, he was just fine to drive." ]
Gil Grissom grimaced and scratched at the corner of his beard in frustration, returning the stack of papers to the open file on his office desk. He was sifting through a photocopy of Brass' witness statements from a still-opened case that rolled in at the end of shift the previous night. Suspicious circs for a car collision at Terrible's Casino.
The victim had started his evening at the casino steakhouse and ended it when his car rolled into a nearby construction site borrow pit at what some witnesses said was a slow speed. The numerous statements were contradictory, as usual, and although Grissom had years of experience deciphering Brass' chicken scratch handwriting, it wasn't helping to resolve matters quickly. Digging through witness statements was not the route he preferred to take, but bloodwork results from Doc Robbins weren't going to be available any time soon.
Grissom removed his glasses, closed the file, and retrieved a box of Earl Grey tea from the top drawer of his desk, briskly heading to the crime lab break room. He made his way to the electric kettle and nodded to Nick, Sara, and Warrick who were taking their lunch at the long table.
Warrick held a half-eaten burger in one hand and his newly-issued CSI badge in the other, looking at the small rectangle of plastic with contempt. "Man, these photos are always the same. Washed out lighting, deer-in-headlights eyes. Can't a guy get some love from the camera for once?" Nick chuckled and raised his In-N-Out soda cup in agreement.
Sara glanced up at the I.D. badge clipped to Grissom's shirt pocket. "It's about time you updated yours, too. Wouldn't want anyone to see that clean-cut criminalist and become confused." She smirked into her plate of tofu curry.
Grissom looked down at his badge and back up. "Unfortunately, it sounds like I missed photo day." He turned and filled his Midwest Entomological Society mug with hot water, suddenly becoming interested in the Cicadidae caricature on the side of it. Illustrations, however crude, never got the proportions of the thorax quite right.
Catherine was leaning at the counter next to him as her half of a quesadilla was heating up in the microwave. "Riiight. Missed the memo. Front desk really needs to start sending out more of those." She opened the beeping microwave and inspected her plate. Not satisfied, she clicked the door shut and keyed in 0:33. "I think that picture reminds you of a simpler time. One where you weren't responsible for as many administrative tasks?" she asked with raised eyebrows. The younger CSIs at the table shared knowing looks while Grissom busied himself with not spilling his tea.
Greg looked up from his lab station across the hall, observing the gang in the break room. Not wanting to be left out, he saved his work on the open laptop and joined Catherine at the microwave with an unopened styrofoam cup of Ramen noodles.
Mug in hand, Grissom took a seat at the head of the table. "Huh. Seems like honesty is in short supply around Vegas tonight. I'm going insane trying to make sense of the witness testimonies Brass corralled at the steakhouse."
Catherine snorted and turned her attention to her heating food. "Glad I wasn't around to deal with that mess." Her energy was in short supply tonight and she wasn't about to get roped into helping Gil with his case.
Sara nodded in solidarity. "Our job would be a cake walk if people's lies were removed from the equation."
"Yeah, picture that." was the only response from Warrick.
Sara continued "Even small lies can add up quick. It's too much to keep track of." She frowned.
"So you're saying you never stretch the truth? Not even to cover your own ass?" Warrick countered. Sara shrugged, donning her best poker face.
Nick was finishing his burger and offered "Sure she does. We all do. Back in the day, I fibbed to my mom about the date of yearbook pictures so I could wear my basketball jersey in the pic." He balled up his food wrapper and shot it towards the flimsy plastic hoop over the trash can.
Sara looked at the ball of foil that bounced from the rim to the floor and shot Nick a wink. "I'd love to see that photo. I'm sure you were a real Larry Bird back in your day."
"Yeah, but with a better mullet." Nick got up to retrieve his missed shot. "Speaking of lies," he examined her crisp new badge on the table, "when's the last time you really weighed what your I.D. says?"
Sara's switched to a puzzled look. "Why would I care enough to lie about that? I don't even have a scale at home so it's not really a lie; it's just a matter of old data."
"Wait! I can help you with that, Sara." Greg said as he left the room and headed down the hall.
The team ate quietly for a moment. Greg rushed back into the break room clutching a square electronic scale, the red light on the unit indicating that it was turned on and ready to be used.
Grissom, about to take another sip of tea, raised an eyebrow incredulously and pointed at the scale. "Not a chance, Greg. You know that thing stays in the mail room. It's calibrated for shipping coolers of perishable evidence, not for updating Sara's biometrics." He resumed his sip of tea and tilted his head to Catherine, hoping she might put an end to the nonsense.
"I'm sure Sara's biometrics are just fine." Catherine said with a smile as she stood and walked to the sink to rinse her plate. "Little white lies. We've all told 'em. Can that wait a minute, Greg? I could use some help organizing all those exemplars from the E-Z Mart case." He fumbled with his unopened noodles and the bulky scale, trailing behind her with a sigh.
Nick was on his way out as well. "Cath, I'll join you guys in a sec. Just gotta make a locker room pit stop."
Silence resumed and Warrick offered "Well, it would help if we knew what the vic ate and drank. Maybe he had a little help rolling into that ditch. But I hear our autopsy is gonna be a while since that train derailment has Doc's slab backed up."
He was met with a solemn nod from Sara.
Warrick continued "I'll take a look at dining room camera footage." He tapped the table with his badge before getting up to go to the A.V. lab.
Sara tossed her takeout container in the recycling bin. "Maybe the car can still speak to us. Let me know if anything else comes up."
Alone with his thoughts, Grissom retrieved his cell phone from his pants pocket, dialing Brass as he got up to refill his mug. "I'm going to need the bar manifest at Terrible's. Maybe our vic got sloppier than dos cervesas."
"Yeah, sure thing." Brass replied. "I'll email you as soon as I'm back at my desk. By the way, are you gonna be at that recognition party for Ecklie tomorrow? There's only so much schmoozing I can take with that crowd over light beers."
Grissom headed towards the garage and replied "Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."