Sanctuary
By
A. Rhea King
The neighborhood they were in was run down. Driving into it at night was a risk with the crime that happened here. But it was also the area of town that CSI ended up being the most. Nick glanced out the window, noticing Grissom's reflection in the window. He'd been unusually quiet tonight, even as they climbed in. Nick rested his head back against the seat.
"First call of the night sounds like it'll be busy."
"Yes," Grissom answered.
Nick glanced at him. He sounded tired. He was about to comment when his attention was drawn a flash of bright light between two houses. Grissom turned the SUV onto the next street, headed straight for the bright lights. Nick sat up, staring at what they were driving into There were police cars, unmarked police cars, unmarked cars, media, two ambulances, a fire truck, and the coroner's car.
"What is going on?" Nick mused out loud.
Grissom's thought echoed Nick's sentiments. A policeman pointed to where they needed to pull up, behind Brass' car, and then turned back to help with crowd control. The two climbed out and were immediately barraged with camera flashes, bright points of camera lights turned to them, and questions.
"Get inside. Don't talk to anyone," Grissom called to Nick.
Nick didn't argue with that.
The two headed inside. Nick glanced at agents passing them, reading the DEA and FBI on the backs of their coats. He looked at Grissom. He seemed to be noticing the same thing.
"Did dispatch tell you anything about what was happening?"
Grissom shook his head. "They just said a homicide and sexual assault were reported. No mention of all this," Grissom motioned at the commotion around them.
"Do any of these people realize they're destroying evidence?"
"Doubtful."
The two entered the house. Two FBI agents jogged past them, pushing them out of their way. They moved back to a wall, watching the commotion.
"Who are you?" someone demanded.
The two looked up, watching a DEA agent storm up to them. "No press in here. Get out!"
"CSI," Grissom said, flicking his lapel up so the agent could read the print on his jacket. "We were told to report here for a homicide and sexual assault."
"We don't need you guys. Get out."
"Yes we do," Brass said, walking up.
The DEA agent turned to Brass. "We have jurisdiction."
"Well, until you can produce papers saying that, and then the Under Sheriff calls me, it's my crime scene. Maybe you can explain to me why the FBI and DEA are so interested in a dead drug dealer in the kitchen and his woman, who was probably on crack herself. Why has she barricaded herself in the bedroom bathroom at the back?"
Brass glanced at Grissom.
"I told you that this couple has been working with us for five years."
Grissom slowly moved around the two and Nick followed. They moved toward the hall bathroom. It had been taped off, luckily, and there was no one in the area.
"Where do you want me, Grissom? Bathroom or kitchen?"
"Take the kitchen."
Nick nodded. He stopped to slip on some booties and then ducked under the tape. Grissom headed toward the only bedroom he had seen in the small house. There were two paramedics and several DEA and FBI agents standing at the door. A female DEA was standing at the door.
"Mason, please open this door," she begged.
Grissom stood back, watching the scene.
"Mason, we know you're hurt. We have paramedics out here, two females, they want to help you. We all do. You have to open the door for us though. Please, Mason."
"Maybe we should just break down the door," an FBI agent suggested.
The woman glared at him and whispered, "This woman is my responsibility. You're not breaking down the door and scaring her more. Get out of here!"
Grissom looked down the hall into the kitchen. He turned and returned to the kitchen. This was clearly going to take a while, so it was better to process what crime scene they could.
Nick and Grissom sat in chairs in the hall between the bedroom and kitchen, and the living room. They had processed the living room, the second bedroom, and hall bathroom. There was no way they could processes the living room, the enclosed porch or the perimeter with all the people, and even after Grissom had asked numerous times, the FBI and DEA weren't about to remove their presence until Mason was out of the bathroom and they had a chance to talk to her. The bedroom had cleared out, leaving just the female DEA. She suddenly left too, joining two other DEA at the end of the hall.
He overheard her tell them, "I'm done with this. We're busting the door down. Call the local SWAT and get us what we need to break down the door."
Nick looked at the door and then at Grissom. Grissom was watching the DEA agents. Nick got up and headed for the bathroom door, half expecting for someone to order him back to his chair. He reached the door and thought for a moment. Nick patted his pockets, his hand stopping on his vest's breast pocket and the small stack of business cards in it. He dug one out and crouched down, pushing the card halfway under the door.
Behind him Grissom turned to speak to him and stared for a second before looking up and seeing him at the bathroom door. He stood and walked to the door, but didn't say anything.
"Hey, Mason," Nick said to the door. "My name's Nick Stokes. I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I don't know you, but, uhm, there's a lot of blood out here and I'm pretty sure it's not all your boyfriend's. You've been in there for a while, and I'm starting to worry that you're not okay. See my business card here at the door? Could you come take it so I know you're alive? Otherwise I'm going to bash this door down."
At first nothing happened. He saw a shadow move under the door and then his business card disappeared. He smiled, laying his hand on the door.
"What happened to you tonight would screw with anyone's mind. I should know, Mason. I've seen enough of the aftermath. You know though, it may not seem like it, but you're really lucky. Most of the time when I arrive, the other women, they're… Not so lucky. I've never been where you are right now; I won't lie and say I have been. But you know I've been someplace close. This one time this guy kidnapped me and buried me alive." Nick stopped talking, surprised by how hard the memory hit him tonight.
"Why?" a muffled voice asked from the other side of the door.
"What?"
"Why'd he do that to you?"
"He believed his daughter was wrongfully imprisoned."
"Did you have her arrested?"
"No. It was just a broad sweeping move. I just happened to be in the wrong spot at the wrong time."
"How long were you buried?"
"Twelve hours."
She didn't speak for a long time. Nick hugged his knees, waiting patiently.
"I never saw the guy coming," Mason told him. "One minute we were eating supper, the next… I was thinking I hadn't seen Barbados."
Nick had no idea what she was talking about, and it worried him what might be making her confused about what she was talking about. "Are you hurt badly?"
She didn't answer the question.
"I take that's a yes," Nick said.
It was hard to hear her answer, "Yes."
"GET OUT OF THERE!" a voice bellowed.
Nick looked up, seeing the DEA and two FBI agents storming towards him.
Grissom turned, grabbed the bedroom door and slammed it shut. Outside the door a lot of yelling erupted, although Grissom's voice wasn't among those yelling.
"Who was that?" Mason asked.
"That DEA woman."
"I hate her," Mason snarled.
"I can see why. She's kinda bossy."
"You have no idea."
Nick smiled. "Well, my boss cut her off at the pass."
"I don't feel good."
"How do you mean?"
"I feel weak."
"You've lost a lot of blood, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"I know we just met and all, but, could I please come in and help you? Looks like one of the paramedics left their kit out here. At least let me get the bleeding slowed down and then, you know, we can figure out what to do after that."
"Only you can come in."
Nick got to his feet and grabbed the paramedic's bag. "Only me."
The door lock clicked and it opened a crack. His hand touched the door handle when the bedroom door burst open, and the DEA and FBI burst in. Nick rushed in, slamming the bathroom door and locking it
"OPEN THE DOOR!" the DEA woman screamed, beating on the door.
"Not until she wants me to!" Nick yelled back. "Just calm down!"
"I AM GOING TO HAVE YOUR BADGE!"
"I don't have a badge you idiot!"
"THEN YOUR JOB!"
"Whatever," Nick told the door as he turned.
The DEA and FBI continued beating on the door and ordering him to open it.
What he found behind him startled him. A small, fragile looking woman in her early thirties stood wrapped in a blood soaked silk bathrobe. Blood covered everything in the bathroom. Nick looked away, setting the paramedic bag on the sink and opened it. He was a little taken back by the contents.
"Wow. I guess I never realized how much they pack in these bags," Nick told her. "I'm no paramedic, but let's see if we can figure out what's what, okay?"
She didn't answer and he didn't press her to.
He found bandages, a pair of scissors, gauze pads, tape, and a bottle of sterile water. He turned, finding her pressed into the corner trembling. Nick slowly sat the items down.
"What's wrong, Mason?"
"You're gloves," she said.
Nick looked at the rubber gloves he was wearing. He looked up at her.
"They guy was wearing gloves?"
She nodded.
"There's purple ones in the bag. Would it help if I changed them?"
She nodded.
Nick pulled off his gloves and pushed them into his pocket. He dug out a pair of purple gloves and then turned back to her. She was still shaking.
"Do you want to sit down on the toilet or the tub edge?"
She moved around to the toilet and sat down. Nick crouched down in front of her, wetting a gauze pad with the water. He reached up to her face and she jumped. He stopped moving, holding still until she was comfortable with his hand near her face. She slowly moved back and held still while he cleaned a cut on her cheek.
"Were you scared?" Mason asked.
"When?"
"When you were buried alive?"
Nick looked her in the eyes, tearing up a little. "Never been that terrified before, or since."
She nodded. "Me too." She started crying.
Nick spotted a washcloth inside the shower and grabbed it, handing it to her.
"Better stop those before they get in these cuts. The salt will burn."
She smiled a little, dabbing her tears.
Nick smiled, going back to cleaning and bandaging her cuts.
Nick leaned on the window by the toilet, staring at the leaves of the bush outside it. Behind him he heard Mason putting on the clean clothes he'd had Grissom get for her to change into. An FBI agent tried to force his way into the bathroom, forcing Nick to punch him. He had a suspicion that when this was over, and after all the DEA and FBI agents he'd made mad tonight, he might just find himself on the no-fly list.
"I'm finished. You can turn around now," Mason told him.
Nick turned. She was leaning against the wall staring at the floor. She looked better now that she was in clean clothes and had most of the blood cleaned off of her face. It was when he was helping her clean wounds along her hairline that he realized she was a natural red head.
"Okay," Nick walked over to the door, then turned to her. "Do you want me to put my arm around your shoulders or would that be uncomfortable?"
"You can put your arm around me."
"Okay. Stay close."
She nodded again.
"Brass," Nick called.
"Yeah?"
"Make a path."
Nick waited for his okay.
"It's cleared."
Nick slowly opened the door, seeing that his path was lined with DEA and FBI agents, and LVPD officers. He turned to Mason, holding out his arm. She moved close to him, pressing hard against his side. Nick put his arm around her shoulders and started moving her slowly through the people. It seemed he was going to get her out of the house without any problems.
Then they reached the kitchen and an officer opened the front door to order the officers outside to make a path. And camera flashes started going off. Mason froze.
"What is it?" Nick asked her, watching her face.
She stared wide-eyed at the door.
"Mason?"
She pulled away from him, backing up a step. He tried to stop her and she turned without warning. Screaming she struggled loose. When the DEA and FBI tried to stop her she attacked them, fighting her way back to the bathroom. Nick tried to run after her, but the agents kept getting in his way. She made it to the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it. Nick ran through the door, jumped on the bed and made it across in three steps head of the agents. He spun, blocking them.
"BACK OFF!" Nick screamed.
"You were supposed to get her out of there!" the DEA agent snarled at him.
"She didn't feel like being on the morning news!" Nick bellowed.
"What?" the woman DEA asked.
"The press! You guys have made this house such a popular place tonight that they're everywhere out there. This woman's just been assaulted and she's scared half out of her mind."
"We have to be here. It was our responsibility to be here! She's our responsibility."
"And you did such a good job watching out for her. She's a civilian, lady; she should never have been put in this situation.
"Nick," Grissom said, slipping between two agents. "Ask her to let you back in the bathroom." To the DEA he told her, "This is a setback for all of us. That's all. We're just going to have to come up with a better solution to remove Mason from the house."
Nick turned, lightly tapping the door with his hand. "Mason, I screwed up. I didn't think about all that press out there. I'm really, really sorry. Please let me in. Please?"
The door didn't unlock. Nick laid his forehead on the door.
"Boy, did I screw up."
The door unlocked and opened a crack. Nick slipped in, locking it behind him. He turned and she fell into his arms crying. Nick held her.
"We'll figure something out, okay? I promise, Mason."
She just sob against his shirt.
Outside the bedroom Grissom saw Warrick pushing through the crowd. He motioned him over and he pushed through to him. Grissom handed him the bags of evidence.
"What the hell is going on here?" Warrick asked.
"Long story. Get all this evidence in the vehicle back to the lab and have 'em start processing it. There's some evidence bags just inside the kitchen also. We're going to be here a while."
"You know we're swamped tonight, don't you?"
"I know, but I can't leave."
"What about Nick?"
"He can't either. Have Catherine and Greg take a call each."
Warrick chuckled. "We aren't sending Greg anywhere alone tonight."
"Why?"
"Explain it later. Priority evidence?"
"Definitely."
Warrick headed out to the kitchen. Grissom turned his attention back to the bathroom door, wishing he had an idea of how to help get this girl out of the house.
Nick slowly paced the bathroom, hands on hips, as he thought. Mason sat on the toilet, leaned against the wall. He glanced at his watch. A half hour had passed and when he looked at Mason's pale face, he knew that half hour was too long. Nick stopped at the door.
"Grissom?" Nick called.
"Yeah?"
"Any ideas yet?"
"No. Just a lot of arguing about them still."
Nick resumed his pacing. He looked at the shower curtain when he passed this time. It was matte black and silver metallic – not something even he would have chosen for a bathroom. Nick stopped and slowly turned, staring at it.
"I know what we'll do!" Nick turned to her. "We'll put you in a body bag and get you to the ambulance. The press doesn't really care about the dead people, just the live ones, so we can sneak you right past them."
"You want to put me in a body bag?"
"Only to get you out of here."
"I don't think I can do that."
Nick crouched in front of her. "It'll be fine. And if you want, we could turn it inside out so you can zip it and unzip it. Then we can get you on a gurney and get you out of here. They'll never know; it'll be the perfect disguise."
Mason stared into his eyes. She reached out and brushed her fingertips against his cheek.
"I don't know I trust you, but I do."
Nick smiled, catching her hand and squeezing it. "So we can do this?"
She nodded.
Nick got up and trotted to the door. He opened it a crack, finding Grissom standing with his back to the door.
"Have an idea. We need a coroner, a gurney, and a body bag."
Grissom looked at him. "Okay." He walked over to Brass and passed along the request.
"SHUT UP!" Brass yelled and the room fell silent. "We know what we're going to do. David, where are you? Are you still here?"
"Back here," David called from somewhere at the back.
"We need a body bag and gurney. Hurry up."
"A body bag?" the DEA woman asked.
Brass smiled at her. "I think we're going to kill your informant."
"What?" she asked.
"Just for a little bit. Then we'll open the bag and she'll be as good as new."
The DEA agent didn't get it. Brass' smile said he was reveling in that fact.
The crowd of people separated as David came in.
"Clear out of here, people. Let's give her a little privacy," Brass ordered.
David and Grissom stayed behind.
"Turn the body bag inside out," Nick told David.
"Inside out?"
"Yeah. So the zipper can be done from the inside."
David did as he was told. Nick turned to Mason.
"Okay, Mason. Time to go."
She tried to get up but was too weak. Nick walked over and tried to help her to her feet, but her legs were too shaky.
"Can I carry you?" he asked.
She nodded.
Nick picked her up.
"Get the door, Grissom."
Grissom pushed it open and stepped back. Nick carried her to the gurney and with David's and Grissom's help got her into the bag. He zipped it up until the zipper was in her hands and the crouched down.
"When you're ready, zip it up over your head and we'll move."
Mason looked at each of them.
"Are you sure no one will know I'm in here?"
"Not unless you unzip it or start talking." Nick answered.
She drew a breath and slowly zipped the bag shut over her.
"Don't leave me," Mason told him.
"I'm with you all the way out there."
"It's a little bumpy while I get the gurney up," David told her. "I don't usually carry live people on this thing so I apologize."
"Okay," she answered.
David lifted up the gurney and started for the door.
"I'm right beside you, Mason. That's my hand on your arm," Nick told her.
Grissom opened the door and everyone in the hall turned to look at them. Talking died off suddenly, people on cell phones hung up. They went through the house and into the crowd outside. The press quickly surged toward them, snapping off photos, asking who was in the body bag, but they quickly made way – most reporters didn't like being near bodies. Grissom went ahead to tell the paramedics what was happening and then climbed into the back with one of them.
David moved the gurney to the ambulance and the paramedics helped him get it in. Nick shut the door and patted the door. A paramedic climbed into the driver's seat and drove away, the second sat down next to Grissom. Grissom watched Nick get swallowed by the crowd as they pulled away. He turned to Mason.
"We've left, Mason. You can open the bag now," Grissom told her.
She unzipped it, looking around her. For a few minutes she was oblivious to the paramedic preparing her arm for an I.V. needle
"Where's Nick?" Mason asked.
"He's back at the house. I'll—"
"I want Nick," she said, starting to panic.
"Mason, he has to—"
"I want Nick! I WANT NICK!"
He reached out to lay his hand on her arm.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Mason screamed, clawing at him. "I WANT NICK! WHERE'S NICK? NICK! NICK!
Grissom and the paramedic had to fight back to restrain Mason, and even that didn't stop her fighting.
Grissom pulled his phone out of his belt and dialed.
"Stokes," Nick said.
"Meet us at the hospital. She's out of control."
"On my way," Nick answered and hung up.
Mason screamed and struggled against the bed restraints. Doctor Baker was standing next to the bed, trying to talk to her. A nurse nearby was preparing a syringe of sedative.
Grissom stood back watching. Nick pushed past him.
"Nick," Grissom called.
Nick didn't stop. He shoved past nurses and Doctor Baker. He saw a nurse preparing Mason's arm to give her the shot.
"NO!" Nick yelled, scaring the woman. "Do not give her that yet. Give me two minutes. Just two minutes."
Doctor Baker nodded and the nurse lowered the needle.
Nick leaned over the railing, laying his hands on either side of Mason's face.
"Mason," he quietly said. "Mason, look at me. Look in my eyes, Mason."
Mason stopped screaming, staring at him.
"Nick?" she gasped.
"Think I messed up again, didn't I?"
"Yes, you jerk!" she told him, her crying renewed.
Nick smiled, laughing a little. "I deserved that." Nick reached down, unfastening the restraints on her wrists. "I'm sorry, Mason."
As soon as her arms were free, she threw them around his neck an. Nick fumbled to put the side rail down. He sat down on the edge of the bed, holding her.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Mason," Nick told her, stroking her hair.
Doctor Baker walked over to Grissom. "Do we need to collect a sexual assault kit?"
"Yes. Will you tell Nick I'll call him when I need him?"
"Sure."
Grissom left. He couldn't take away the woman's only security, even if there was a lot of evidence to sift through to find her rapist.
Nick sat close to Mason's bed, rubbing the inside of her left arm – it was the only place on her that her attacker hadn't cut or bruised. She watched his hand, as if the motion had her hypnotized. But she wasn't. Every time he stopped she'd whisper for him to start again.
Doctor Baker came in. "Nick, can I speak to you for a moment?"
Nick stood, leaning over the railing. "I'll be just over there, okay, Mason? I want you to stay calm until I get back."
She nodded.
Nick walked over to where he'd pointed with Doctor Baker following.
"The situation out in the waiting room is becoming a problem."
"What situation?"
"There's a DEA supervisor demanding to see Mason. She said that if we don't let her back here, she'll get a court order for temporary custody. Can she do that?"
"If she can convince a judge that Mason's mentally unstable, yeah."
"It won't matter for a while. Mason's x-rays came back and she has internal bleeding. We need to get her into the O.R. immediately. If you want an assault kit, Nick, you need to convince her right now." Baker held out forms to Nick.
Nick took them, looking at Mason. "I'll talk to her."
"I'll go get the kit. You have until I get back or not at all."
He nodded. "Could you put her under anesthesia down here? So I can stay with her until she's out?"
"Normally, I'd say no, but since you seem to keep her calm I'll make an exception. But you can't be with her in surgery."
"How long will it take?"
"Several hours."
Nick quickly fished a business card from a pocket. "Call me when she's out. I want to be here when she wakes up."
Baker took it. "I will do that."
Nick walked back to Mason, leaning on the bedrail.
"What are those?" she asked, motioning at the papers.
"I need your permission to collect a sexual assault kit."
"I don't want to."
Nick sat down, leaning close to the bed. "Do you want me to catch the guy?"
She nodded.
"Then do this, Mason, so I can catch him and put him jail for you."
She stared at the papers.
"And there's something else. Doctor Baker got the x-rays back and you have internal bleeding. They have to operate. She's going to put you under anesthesia here in the ER so I can stay with you."
She smiled a little. "I need a pen for the papers."
Nick retrieved one from his pocket and picked up a magazine off a nearby chair. He held them so she could sign the papers. He sat the signed papers aside and sat down on the edge of her bed.
"You sure are brave," Nick told her.
She closed her eyes. "Is it Nick or Nicolas?"
"Nicolas."
She smiled, holding out her hand. "Where are you from?"
"Austin."
"Texas?"
"Is there any other?" he joked.
She chuckled a little. "Yes, actually, there are several. Lots of cities named Paris, too."
"Yeah?"
She nodded slowly. "What are your parent's names?"
"Why all these questions all of a sudden?"
"I'm trying to relax."
Nick smiled. "My parents are Rodger and Jillian Stokes."
"Any siblings?"
Nick hesitated again. She opened her eyes, looking into his eyes.
"Someday I want to be able to find you again," she told him.
"Mason, I'll be here when you come out of surgery."
She started crying, squeezing his hand. "You really are sweet, know that?"
"Do you think that guy will come after you? I can ask for a police presence."
She slowly shook her head. "I may never see you after tonight."
"What?"
Doctor Baker came in, picking up the forms. "Okay, Mason, I'm going to have a nurse collect the assault kit. Nick, do you want to step outside?"
"Just a minute," he told her.
"Nick, I told you, we don't have minutes. Please."
Mason gave his hand a squeeze, drawing his attention back to her.
"Go, Nicolas," Mason told him. "Then you can sit with me until I'm asleep. I want your face to be the last thing I see."
"You're not going to die."
She smiled sadly. "I know."
Nick didn't move.
"Nick, please," Doctor Baker said.
Nick got up and stepped out of the room. He turned, watching Baker close the curtain. Mason held his gaze until the curtain hid her from sight. Nick was worried. He knew she was trying to tell him something, but he couldn't figure out what.
Grissom looked up when Nick moved in next to him. He watched him reading the printouts he'd sat down.
"Why are you here?" Grissom asked.
"Mason's in surgery." Nick held up a box. "I'm going to go run the rape kit, see if anyone pops up in CODIS." Nick looked up at him, staring back at him. "What?"
"I don't think you should be working this case, Nick."
"I can remain objective, Grissom. I have to."
"Oh?"
"The FBI and DEA don't just show up to just any informant's house. This woman means something, and my gut tells me that we're going to have dig deep to find whoever did this to her and her boyfriend."
"What if it leads to a reason?"
"You mean what if it says she deserved to be raped and stabbed?"
"What if it means she's not as innocent as you believe?"
"Mason's not innocent. I could see that in her face. But no matter what's really going on, she didn't deserve this. No one does."
Grissom looked at the microscope in front of him. "I won't let you conduct any interviews. I don't need this blowing apart because you like the woman."
"I never said I liked her."
Grissom looked up at him. "My gut tells me you do."
Nick didn't argue.
"Go run the kit."
Nick nodded, leaving the lab. Grissom turned back to his work. At the end of the counter Hodges was working on some evidence.
"Ah sweet infatuation," Hodges said.
Grissom stopped working for a minute and then looked back at Hodges. "Do you listen to all my conversations?"
"Only the interesting ones," Hodges told him as he walked past.
Grissom frowned, and then went back to work.
Nick processed the evidence from the rape kit, but while he was careful with the evidence, his thoughts were at the hospital with Mason. He was still going over their last conversation. In hindsight, he realized that maybe she wasn't worried about the men. Maybe it was the really annoying DEA agent that had her worried – he wasn't prone to wanting to punch women but that woman needed someone to explain things with a little force.
He was lost in thought when Wendy leaned over his shoulder, whispering, "Can I use the FTIR now?"
He smiled back at her. "Is it done?" He stood, checking the machine, and realized it had finished a while ago. He walked to the printer, pulling the results off. He leaned back against the counter, reading the results.
"Are you okay? I've been here talking to you for ten minutes."
"Yeah. Just thinking about my case."
Wendy joined him. "Active woman."
"Only two male donors. One's the boyfriend."
Wendy looked up at him. "More active than most women."
Nick looked at her. He wasn't aware it was the darkest look he'd ever given her, but he did see her smile fade.
"She was violently raped, Wendy."
Nick walked over to a computer and put the DNA for the unknown donor into CODIS.
"Sorry, Nick. I didn't know."
Nick didn't answer. His mind had already drifted back to his thoughts. They were interrupted when a hit came back. He printed out the results and left to find Grissom.
Nick walked into the hotel room behind Grissom and let out a sigh. His suspect lay on a bed with two wounds to the chest. Nick walked up to the edge, staring at the body. Grissom walked over and spoke with an officer for a couple minutes, and then joined Nick.
"Are you okay?"
Nick nodded.
"You wanted to bring him in, didn't you?"
"There's more to this, Grissom. He was key to figuring out what was going on in that house."
"It just means we have to find the evidence in here."
Nick looked around the messy hotel room. "That could be a while."
"We have nothing but time," Grissom said as he walked away. "David should be here soon."
Nick looked at him, thinking, 'Not really.' He sat his kit on a chair, pulled his Maglite off his belt, and started through the room.
Nick waited for a hit on another set of fingerprints – the sixth set he'd found at the crime scene. It was a hotel room; this was like searching for a contact lens on the freeway!
"Nick," Grissom said as he walked up.
Nick looked back, and then slowly rose from his chair. Following Grissom was the DEA agent and two FBI agents.
He glanced back when the computer beeped, and a face appeared.
"The FBI has taken over this case. I need you to collect all your evidence and—"
"No!" Nick looked at him, then the DEA agent. "You let her get hurt! You were supposed to be protecting her!"
Grissom started, "Nick, we—"
"The man that nearly killed her is dead. Did you do that?" Nick asked the DEA agent.
The woman frowned at him. "No, Mister Stokes. We don't—"
"I don't believe you. Why wasn't she wired? Shouldn't she have been wired?"
"This isn't your case anymore, Mister Stokes. Prepare your evidence and release it. Now."
"You can't tell me what to do."
"I can." Grissom snapped.
Nick looked at him. "Grissom, we ca—"
"Nick, you will gather your evidence, all of it, and you will hand it over. Now."
"But Mason—"
"Now, Nick."
Nick looked back at the face on the screen. He slowly nodded. Grissom turned and left with the DEA agent. He looked around and spotted a file box. He snatched it up and started dumping files, evidence containers and photographs in it. If they wanted, they were going to have to sort out the details themselves. One of the FBI agent walked up to him.
"If you need to step outside, I can secure the area."
"I got it," Nick bit back.
"If you damage any of the evidence—"
Nick looked up at him. "Are you going to go after whoever killed her rapist?" Nick asked him.
The man stared back. He didn't answer.
Nick reached over to the scanner without looking and in one swipe grabbed all the prints on it and dumped them in the box.
"If you'll stop and put your files together. If you'll pack all your evidence carefully… I give you my word I'll keep this case open and I will personally hunt down whoever ordered the hit," the agent promised.
"You expect me to just believe you?"
The man stepped into Nick's space, looking him in the eye. In a low voice he said, "There is so much happening right now that I can't tell you about, Stokes. I'm sorry about that because you care so much for Mason, I can see that. But you have got to believe me that this case does not end with you, so you're going to pack that box so I can use your work to continue this case. Understand?"
"Fine," Nick growled.
"You sure you don't want some help?" the agent asked.
"I said I got it, okay?" Nick snapped.
The man held up his hands, backing away. Nick pulled everything out and began organizing the contents better. There was a flicker of hope that this agent was being honest with him, and Mason would get her justice.
Nick walked up to the ER admittance desk, smiling when the nurse looked up.
"I came in with a patient last night. Her first name is Mason; I don't have a last name. She—"
"Nick Stokes, Crime Lab?" the nurse asked.
"Yeah."
"Just a minute." The nurse went into a room and came back with Doctor Baker.
The woman motioned Nick to follow and they walked to a secluded corner of the ER.
"She's gone," Baker said.
Nick stared at her.
"Oh! No. I mean… Not dead. We moved her to her room and about twenty minutes later, a lawyer with the DEA supervisor arrived and they took her."
Nick looked down. After they had taken all the evidence, he couldn't say he was surprised by this.
"She asked me to keep her in recovery until she could write you a letter. As crazy as tonight has been in here, I obliged. Here."
Nick looked up at the envelope Baker held out. He took it from her.
"Thank you," Nick said.
"This has been one strange night with you CSI." Baker walked a few steps. "Oh, how is Greg Sanders doing?"
Nick turned. "What?"
"That boy was in here four times last night. He was a mess by the time we got him convinced to go home."
"I don't know. I haven't seen him all night."
"Probably because he kept ending up in here," Baker said as she walked away.
Nick walked back out to his Escalade and got in. He tore the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper inside, reading Mason's last words to him:
Nicolas,
I'm not a civilian, I'm FBI. I knew I was in over my head, but I stayed because I wanted to put away the bad guys. Can you understand that? I failed, and I'm being pulled from the case. There's something I want you to do for me. Never let go of that sweetness in you. It was strong enough to save me; it will always protect you.
Mason
Nick folded the note back into the envelope. He sat for hours staring at the instrument panel, trying to figure out how to mend his broken heart.