Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: Miami or Lie to Me.

Jangle

Chapter 1: Prologue

Snow fell in chunks, splattered and melted on the D.C. streets and clung stickily to blades of grass and the hats and hair of pedestrians.

Inside the Lightman Group office, Dr. Cal Lightman and Dr. Gillian Foster watched the two men across the table. One, Phillip Kimura, was a tall, heavy-set man with small glasses and a dark blue business suit. The other was his client, Henry Boyd, a twenty-something African American man with cornrow braids and small gold earrings. He wore a forest green turtleneck and baggy blue jeans.

"The fee Mr. Boyd is prepared to pay you is considerable," the lawyer stated, "but before we say any more, we'll need you to sign the confidentiality agreement."

"First I need to ask you, why don't you ask the police to investigate?" Lightman inquired.

Kimura glanced at his client, who nodded, then looked back at Lightman. "My client has had bad experiences with the police in the past, and has reason to believe they would not be cooperative in recovering his missing property."

"And just what is the nature of this missing property? Drugs?"

Boyd blinked slowly, narrowing his eyes. The disdainful tightening of his lips was all the answer Lightman needed.

"Not drugs, then. Weapons? Money?"

Boyd's sharp chin tilted upward, but it was followed by a slight movement to the side.

"Not money, then, but something of monetary value."

"The items in question rightfully belong to my client. They are not stolen goods, or obtained by any other unlawful means. My client may, however, be involved in unsavory associations which may become salient during the course of your investigation, should you accept the contract. Otherwise, we will take our business to private investigators who will be, I'm sure, more discreet though less competent than you."

"'Unsavory associations' like the man your client shot in his apartment last week?" Foster asked.

"Which was determined to be a clear case of self-defense," Kimura pointed out.

"Yes, I'm sure it was quite determined to be that from the beginning," Lightman quipped.

"Notwithstanding, the district attorney will make no effort to try that case. However, it does have some bearing on the reason my client would like to engage your services."

Lightman signed his name on the confidentiality agreement and slid it back across the table to Kimura.

"Wednesday of last week," Kimura began, "an old friend of my client who had a longstanding conflict with him broke into my client's residence with the intent to kill him with a gun. Mr. Boyd prudently had a gun of his own on his nightstand, and his aim proved to be better than his former friend's. Mr. Boyd promptly called the police to report the incident. He waited in his apartment until they arrived ten minutes later. He answered their questions, and then left the building as crime scene investigators went over his apartment to confirm that the evidence matched his account. When he was allowed to return to the apartment, Boyd discovered some items of considerable monetary value were missing. His personal surveillance equipment confirmed that no one came or went from his apartment during that time other than police and crime scene investigators."

"What was stolen?" Foster asked.

It was Henry Boyd who answered. "Gold chains and bracelets. Real gold. I kept them in a box in a hole in my mattress. They were there when I went to bed that night, gone when I got back after they took their crime scene tape down. Only thing I can figure is one of dem CSIs took it."

"And you're not telling the police because...?"

"How do I know one of them ain't in on it? And you just know there gonna stand up for their people instead of me."

Lightman and Foster exchanged glances. There were only a few ways a kid this young could have enough money to invest in gold jewelry, hire an attorney like Mr. Kimura, and pay their fee. Not that that was any of their business.

At their silence, Kimura added some input of his own. "I've confirmed that the items in question - fifty bracelets and sixteen necklace chains worth at least ten thousand dollars - were never entered into evidence during the investigation."

"You kept ten thousand dollars worth of jewelry in your bed?" Foster asked.

"Hey, I was the only one who knew where they were, and I trust me, 'kay?"

Foster nodded.

"So, even if one of these blokes did it, you expect us to just barge in and start asking them a lot of questions without them getting wise to what we're doing and getting the cops involved?" Lightman asked.

A hint of smile tugged at the corner of Kimura's lips. "There were four CSIs at the crime scene: Heather Vance, Booker Merritt, Cai Bonny, and James Stone. They will all be attending a forensics symposium next week. I'm sure you will find some opportunity to ascertain their guilt or innocence during that time. All we need from you is to figure out which one stole my client's property. We will handle it from there."

It was a warm, sunny winter afternoon in Miami.

"You know what I love more than the perp spilling everything as soon as we bring them in? When they maintain their innocence even when they know we have the proof to nail them," Ryan Wolfe said as he shook his head at the violent robber being lead away in handcuffs for attempted murder.

"Yeah, no kidding," Natalia Boa Vista agreed. "At some point, they just start to sound delusional."

"So," Ryan asked, "do you have any other cases to finish up today?"

"Uh, no. Not that I know of."

"That's too bad."

"Why?"

"Because it means you'll probably be the first to talk to our friendly neighborhood IAB agent."

"You mean Rick's replacement? Those interviews are today?"

"They're starting today. But, oh, it's nothing to worry about," he said sarcastically, "the Rat Squad just wants to do some routine interviews to make sure everyone's adhering to department regulations."

"Right. If they want to find corruption in the department, they should look in a mirror. We're not the ones who got involved in murder and planting evidence to cover up blatant theft."

"Don't remind me," Ryan groaned. He had, after all, been the one Rick Stetler tried to frame.

"Hey, do you think it's a coincidence that H. is sending Calleigh and Eric to that conference in D.C.? Maybe he doesn't want them being questioned by the IAB."

"What I'm wondering is if he's sending them so the department only has to fork out money for one hotel room."

Natalia laughed. "Yeah, except I'm pretty sure they're in an 'off again' stage."

"Really? Well I'm pretty sure I saw them leave together the other day."

"You saw them drive away together?"

"No, just walk out together, but they were looking at each other that way that they do."

"Who can tell, with those two. Why are we even talking about this? It's none of our business." Natalia turned away and almost walked right into a petite woman with short, dark brown hair. She was carrying a clipboard.

"Natalia Boa Vista?" she asked.

"Yes. Can I help you?"

"Ori Wexler, Rat Squad. We're just going to have a little chat."