A bright flash of light illuminated the dark space, flickering once, twice, continuously. It cast a shadow from the black tripod it rested on, panning down towards the floor where shards of broken, multi-colored glass lay scattered. Intertwined above were dozens of brightly colored strings, zig zagging left and right across the room, getting lost in each other. Dark red drops of blood coagulated on the shards of glass, forming a trail that led to the middle of the room, on the cold cement floor where a body lay, dressed in jeans, black dress shoes, a black leather jacket and sunglasses. A large gash oozed blood from the top of the head, matting with the long, stingy hair.

Russell couldn't believe what he was seeing as the flash from the camera's shutter blurred his vision. He had stayed rooted to the spot since entering the building after receiving the call for the 419 at an abandoned warehouse. The thought of moving, of even getting close to this body and this scene made a chill overcome him, mixed with a sudden rush of anger.

Fueling the fire was the flurry of movement he felt beside him. He heard the audible gasp and he knew it was her. He turned around quickly and started to speak to her.

"Jules," he said reaching out to touch her shoulder but she flinched at the contact.

The magnitude of what she was seeing in front of her weighed on her like bricks. Her heart began to pound furiously in her chest. It felt as if all the air was being sucked out of her lungs. The room swam in front of her, as she struggled to make her eyes focus on the colorful strings and broken glass. She felt as if she had been punched in the stomach and that pain intensified for some reason when Russell gently touched her shoulder.

"Don't," she snapped, recoiling at his touch.

"Come on," he encouraged "you shouldn't be here, it's too close, Gig Harbor-

"I need to be here," she insisted now "this scene, all this blood"

"I know," Russell said "but you're too involved, Paul, the coma, the book"

Julie looked at him now with a look of sheer terror, realizing what this meant. They had lost their prime suspect.

As Russell held both her shoulders and started to turn her around towards the exit, she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the scene and body dressed in leather and sporting those sunglasses, on the ground. She didn't need DNA or prints to confirm the identity; Daniel Larson was dead and The Gig Harbor Killer had sent another message.

Russell guided Julie out of the crime scene and back outside. They both had to squint against the sun as their eyes had gotten used to the dark dusty warehouse. Russell motioned for an officer then said "Take her home" nodding at Julie as he turned to re-enter the warehouse.

"I don't want to go home!" Julie lashed out stubbornly, stomping her foot against the dirt like a child who didn't want to leave the carnival.

"At least let me wait for you at the lab," Julie tried to compromise with Russell now.

He knew they would be at this scene for hours but he also knew there was no changing Julie's mind when she set out to do something.

"Fine," he said waving his hand nonchalantly "take her to the lab then."

The officer looked fearful of getting close to Julie but with her arms folded stubbornly, he was able to gently guide her to the squad car.

Russell had re-entered the warehouse and was met by Greg, Sara and Morgan who were standing by with their kits eager to begin processing.

"How is she?" Sara asked of Julie.

"Upset," he said after a lengthy pause, unsure what word to use to best sum up his blood whisperers turmoil.

"Where do you want us?" Morgan asked now.

"Uh- photos," Russell said distractedly "better than the ones this infernal camera can take"

He nodded at the staged tripod in front of them.

"Don't touch the body until David gets here," Russell reminded them "same goes for the blood, just- just get as many pictures as you can for Jules."

But he was hoping they wouldn't have to utilize her skills for this case. He didn't want to subject her to that horror again.

As the team worked, Russell surveyed the scene better, noting the exact striking details of all the previous scenes Paul and Jared had staged over the last year and a half. As he stared, the guys rattled off their first observations.

'These strings look different," Greg noted "they don't look fleshy, Hodges will have to confirm though."

"Maybe this copy cat got sloppy?" Morgan suggested "the only people who knew how to make those fleshy strings are dead so the copy cat had to improvise"

"Something isn't right with this blood," Sara noticed now "I can't be sure but they drops look too perfect, maybe they were placed here after the body?" We might need Finn to help us with this."

Russell sighed, his worst fear confirmed. His eyes scanned the perimeter of the scene now for the one thing they still didn't have and when they finally landed on it, he sighed again. The tiny grey recorder lay right beside the body among the glass and blood. He carefully maneuvered through the sea of glass before him, snapping pictures of his own before carefully picking up the delicate device with his gloved hand.

"I found it," he said "I'm taking it outside."

No one dared to stop him as he bolted out of the warehouse and into the safety of his car. He locked the doors, carefully turned the recorder over and pressed play. All at once, the eerie voice spoke "The victim is a white male in his sixties,"

Russell listened as the recording gave a chilling account of the entire scene he had just vacated. No anomalies jumped out at him but he knew the AV lab could enhance this better. When the recording finished, he stopped it and placed it in an evidence bag before sealing it delicately. He sighed and watched somberly as David removed Larson's body from the warehouse. As difficult as Larson had been in their previous investigations, he was their only link to this case and now someone had silenced him. Was this Winthrop's play from prison? Who else could he have met and trusted to copy his sick game? Was this a plot to hurt Jules again? Everything that had transpired since they, since he reopened the case had affected her the most. He thought about the recording and the blood drops, both types of evidence that required the attention of Julie and someone else close to this case. He reached for his cell phone now, dialed and waited for the voice on the other line to answer.

"Hey Avery, it's D.B," he said somberly "listen, I need a favor"

A:N/- This will be my interpretation of how the Gig Harbor Killer case could have ended had CSI not been cancelled and gone off track with the finale. More chapters to follow.