What is worse to live without love, or to die for love? What if your whole existence was decided for you. Who you would love, how you would die. Could you truly love someone if you knew they were destined to kill you? What if you experienced this time and time again. Could you continue to love the very thing that was killing you?
Michael Barret gazed out the kitchen window at the well tended lawn. It was November 23, 09:30 p.m. in the city of Las Vegas, and Michael's wife Vanessa Barret was still not home. It was nothing out of the ordinary as Vanessa was often never home before ten p.m. these days. Michael had understood, at first; Vanessa loved her job and hoped to one day become District Attorney. As such, she had already made it to Assistent DA, but lately her job was conflicting with her home life and wreaking havoc on their marriage.
"Daddy, I can't sleep."
Michael turned and saw his five year old daughter standing in the doorway, her bunny rabbit teddy bear tucked under her arm. Her blonde curls fell past her shoulders and her green eyes were sleepy.
"Kimmy, youbshould be in bed. It's way past your bedtime," Michael crossed the kitchen, picked his daughter up under her arms and carried her to her bedroom. As Michael put his daughter back in bed she asked in a small voice, "When is mommy coming home?"
Michael clenched his jaw and tried to keep the anger out of his voice as he answered, "Soon, Baby. I know she will come kiss goodnight when she gets home."
After she gets the fight of her life, thought Michael. "Would you like me to read to you?"
Kimmy nodded her head as she tucked her teddy under her chin. Michael picked up the book of fairy tales that Vanessa bought Kimmy for her last birthday. As he was about to start reading, the doorbell rang.
"Maybe that's Mom now," said Michael as he put the book down and getting up. It was not strange for Vanessa to lose her keys; she was often to busy on her BlackBerry to keep track of her other knick knacks
Michael walked down the hall towards the fron door. He unlocked the door and yanked it open ready to chew Vanessa out for being late again. But when ne opened the door he was greeted with a black fist sailing towards his face. Pain exploded from his now broken nose. The force of the blow sent him sprawling onto the floor. Through his watering eyes, Michael saw a pair of black boots step in through the doorand then closed it behind him. Thes attacker stepped over Michael and began to walk down the hall towards Kimmy's room. Michael struggled to his feet, desperate to keep this asshole away from his daughter.
Michael stumbled and braced himself against the wall, but he continued to slowly make his way forward. He pushed himself off the wall and launched himself at his attacker. Michael's momentum brought him and the attacker crashing to the ground. The attacker managed to get to his feet quickly. He turned and kicked Michael in the stomach three times. The wind knocked out of him, Michael lay gasping on the floor, unable to get up. The attacker grabbed Michael by the hair and pulled him up. Michael felt as if his hair was being teared out by their roots. Suddenly, Michael felt something cold and hard pressed against his exposed throat. Michael swallowed hard and he felt the blade pierce his skin slightly; he could hear the heavy breathing of his attacker behind him. Michael tried to ram his elbow into the attacker's solar plexus, but he just pressed the knife harder against Michael's throat.
"Daddy!"
Michael tried to yell at Kimmy to run, but his voice came out in a rough, hoarse whisper. The attacker lifted the knife from Michael's throat and spun Michael around. Michael stared up at his attacker who seemed impossibly tall. Michael's eyes widened and hus pulse began to thump in his ears as he watched the glistening blade descend. Once, twice, three times the blade sliced into his neck. The blade then descended twice more into his chest. Michael felt the life flow out of him as his blood gushed from his wounds like milk from a spilt carton. The attacker let go and Michael's limp body fell to the ground.
In his last few seconds of life Michael watched as his attacker step over him. His arms at his side blood dripping fromthe tip of his knife,he made his way into Kimmy's room.
Gil Grissom crouched down and trailed the beam of his flashlight over the body that lay face down on the carpet before him. In his mid to late forties, Grissom had salt and pepper curls and a clean shaven face and his brooding blue eyes took in all the evidence that lay before him.
"Kitchen knife?"
Grissom did not look up at his second in command, Catherine Willows, as his eyes continued to trail over the body.
"Could be," he said, "let's be sure to take an inventory of the kitchen."
Catherine nodded her head thoughtfully, "You're thinking weapon of opportunity?"
Grissom shook his head, "Unlikely; the main struggle is ranged from the front door, up the hall, and ends here infront of the bedroom. There is no sign that the killer went through the house." Grissom looked up at Catherine and said, "Still, let's check out the kitchen."
Catherine nodded her head and her short, strawberry blonde hair bounced around her beautiful face. Just then David Philips, the Assistent Coroner, arrived and Grissom got up to carefully move away from the body in order to allow David room to work. David knelt by before the body and pulled out a liver probe from his bag.
"Sorry, I'm late, guys," he said as he pierced the skin of the Vic's abdomen.
"S'okay, Dave, we just got here ourselves," said Catherine as she pulled out her camera.
"We could use a time of death, David," said Grissom crossing his arms as he watched David do his work.
"Well, rigor mortis has set in. So, I'd put TOD at 09:30 p.m." David gently turned the body over and lifted the shirt. There was a purplish discolouration on the D.B.'s stomach. "Lividity is fixed and consistent with him dying on his stomach," David looked up at them, "We'll have more after autopsy."
"I'll send someone in to collect the body as soon as you are finished," said David as he stood up.
"Thanks, Dave," said Catherine as David left.
"Cast off and arterial spray on the ceiling," said Catherine, returning to her examination as she shone her flshlight overhead.
"On the walls too," said Grissom jerking his head towards the left. Catherine swung the beam of her flashlight in the direction Grissom pointed out. She then lifted the camera that hung around her neck to her eye and documented the blood covered photo's on the wall. Grissom knelt by the body again. Grissom shook his head sadly as he said, "Alot of rage went into this stabbing."
"You think it was personal?" Catherine said.
"It is a reasonable first blush theory," said Grissom.
Lifting the hand of their Vic, Grissom checked underneath his fingernails, hoping that the victim had maybe gotten a piece of his attacker. No such luck, unfortunately. However, there was a piece of black fibre. Grissom picked up the fibre with a pair of tweezers he had pulled from his CSI vest. Turning, something caught Grissom's eye near the body.
"Hey, Cath?"
Catherine turned towards her boss.
"Get a shot of this footprint, would you?"
Catherine looked to where Grissom was pointing and, sure enough, there in the pool of dark red blood, was a smudged shoe print. Although it was smudged, there was still enough detail for them to I.D. the make.
"Man's size 11 by the look of it...a boot maybe?" said Catherine as she snapped off a couple of dozen pictures whilst Grissom placed a marker beside the shieprint.
Grissom nodded silently and returned to the body. Catherine then turned and began documenting the rest of the footprints that led down the hall.
Just then the front door opened and the Captain of Homicide James Brass came in. Brass skirted along the wall, careful not to disturb any potential evidence.
"Vic's name is Michael Barret, computer programer," Brass said when he reached them.
"Barret, as in Vanessa Barret. As in ADA Barret?" asked Catherine.
Brass nodded his head solemnly, "Yup, she's the wife. She's also the one who found the body."
"Shit," cussed Catherine. With all the stress of just the normal press coverage, they didn't need this as well.
"You guys been in the room, yet?" asked Brass.
"I've got Sara and Warrick working the missing girl," said Grissom as he took the camera from Catherine and documented the body.
"We have an Amber alert out on Kimmy Barret," said Brass.
"Anything else you can tell us?" asked Grissom as he and Catherine continued to work.
"Mrs. Barret got in at about 12:00. She opened the door, saw her husband and immediately ran to her daughter's room. When she couldn't find Kimmy, she caled 911."
"Wait a sec," said Catherine, "Did you say she discovered the body at 12:00?
"Yeah," confirmed Brass.
"Dispatch didn't get the call 'til 12:30," Catherine pointed out.
Grissom looked up sharply at Brass.
"Yeah, I noticed that, but I didn't get time to ask her about that before her mother stepped in. And guess what her mother does for a living?" said Brass.
"Attorney?" asked Grissom.
"Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner," said Brass dryly. "She said we could talk to Vanessa once she has a chance to gather her thoughts."
"And get her story straight," said Catherine. Grissom and Brass stared at her.
Catherine threw her hands up in the hair and said in a defensive tone, "Hey, we're all thinking it, I'm just saying it! First on the scene, first suspect."
"She has a point, Jim," said Grissom.
Before Brass could answer the front door opened and Nick Stokes walked in.
"I just finished checking the perimeter," said Nick as he made his way over to them, "There is no signs of forced entry on the door, so the Vic probably let his attacker in. Nothing else except that I found some acceleration tracks right outside the house. The tracks don't match either of the Barret's cars."
Grissom nodded his head and said, "Nick, I want you to take the evidence we have so far and head back to the lab. Start fast tracking the processing. This case is priority one, you hear?"
Nick nodded his head solemnlymand said, "You got it, Boss."
And with that Nick collected the evidence bags and headed out.
"I'm gonna go check with my uni's, see if they have collected all the statements," said Brass as he, too, left.
"I'll check out the kitchen," said Catherine.
Grissom nodded as he entered into Kimmy's room. The bedroom was every little girl's dream. All pink and purple with stuffed animals lining the wall. The first person that drew Grissom's eye when he walked into the room was Sara Sidle. Well, his eyes were always drawn to her first. Ever since she had first walked into his classroom 2 years ago. Her shoulder length, brown hair hung in loose curls around her face, just the way Grissom loved it. Grissom clenched his jaw and pushed his emotions deep down as he turned to his other CSI, Warrick Brown, who was taking pictures of Kimmy's closet.
"What do we have so far?" asked Grissom.
"There are definite signs of a struggle," said Sara as she turned to face him. "There's a story book and a glass that's been knocked off the table and there are scratch marks on the door. Kimmy could have tried to grab onto the door."
"Perp took some of her clothes," called Warrick.
"Could mean he's planning to keep her alive for a while," said Grissom thoughtfully. "Keep working, we only have forty eight hours before our chances of finding this girl severly diminishes ."
Grissom left Sara and Warrick to their work and went out into the hall. He frowned when he saw the front door standing slightly ajar. Grissom instinctively looked towards the body and saw a stranger, dressed entirely in black, kneeling over the body.
"Excues me?" said Grissom as he placed his latexed hand on his gun (something he hardly ever wore) that was holstered at his hip, "Can I help you?"
The black clad stranger stood slowly and turned to face him. The stranger was not what Grissom was expecting.