A/N. The crime from this story happened near me. The issues with the actual evidence in the real case were incorporated into this story.
"Just the people I was looking for." Announced Catherine cheerfully as she walked into Greg and Morgan's shared office. "How do you feel about Gabbs?"
"Casino?" Asked Morgan, looking up from her paperwork and putting her pen down. "I haven't heard of that casino before."
"Nope. Gabbs, Nevada." Catherine paused, seeing the confused frown on Morgan's face. "The town and surrounding area has a population of one thousand and thirty. Plus two CSI's." She smiled, handing Greg a file folder. "The actual population of Gabbs is a couple hundred residents. It's a small town, about four hours north of here." She paused as she watched Greg open the file folder and take out a piece of paper. "The area has a local sheriff and a few deputies. However, when there is a big problem, Las Vegas Police, or in this case, the crime lab is dispatched to help them out. Technically they are still in Clark County."
"Murder and attempted suicide." Read Greg from the file folder. "It sounds pretty cut and dry."
"You and Morgan are the only two not working on hot cases right now. I know I'm asking you to pull a double, but I need you to both go home, pack enough stuff for a day or so and head up there to process the crime scene." Catherine looked from one CSI to the other.
"Road trip. Could be fun." Shrugged Morgan, grinning at Greg. She pulled back from her chair and stood up. "Get packing, Sanders."
An hour later Morgan was rummaging under her sink, searching for her large travel toiletry bag. As she located it, her cell phone rang. Wondering who it could be, she fished it out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID. It was her father. Surprised he was still awake at this late hour, she pressed the talk button.
"Hi Dad, what's up?" she said, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder as she started packing her toiletries.
"Just wondering how packing is going?" Conrad Ecklie replied. "What do you think about heading northward for a few days?"
"It'll be something different, but the case doesn't look too difficult."
Morgan half listened to her father rattle on about an old case he had investigated in a remote town as she continued to pack her suitcase.
"Are you going to be okay with Greg?" Her father said, changing the subject abruptly and bringing Morgan's full attention back to her father.
"Why wouldn't I?" Morgan scrunched up her face in confusion. "Greg and I work together all of the time."
"Yeah," Said Ecklie slowly. "but it's a little different going so far away with someone. If Greg gets inappropriate, let me know."
Annoyed that her father would imply something out of character for Greg, Morgan scolded her father. "If it were me and another female going together, would you worry about that?" She argued. "We've been on plenty of cases alone together and he has never been inappropriate."
"That's good to hear." Was Ecklie's quick reply.
Morgan rolled her eyes at her father's out of character warning. She finished her conversion by promising her father she'd be careful. She returned to her bedroom to finish packing. Now that she'd had a few minutes to think about her father's odd statement about Greg, she smiled father's insinuation that Greg may get inappropriate with her. Sure they were kind of flirty with each other, but neither of them crossed any boundaries.
As Morgan opened a drawer to choose a pair of pajama's to pack, an image of Greg smiling down at her popped into her mind. It had been at the beginning of the week. The two were in the garage, working side by side. He was holding a new forensics toy a company had loaned the lab and was droning on about it in great detail. Morgan had interrupted him asked if there was going to be a test at the end of the lecture. He'd given her a sarcastic, "Ha Ha." But then he had turned to her and smiled. She hadn't noticed it then, but tonight she remembered his brown eyes and smirk he had given her. Her stomach fluttered, thinking about that smile.
"Great, thanks for putting ideas in my head, Dad." She said aloud, as she slammed her small suitcase shut and reached for the zipper.
Once on the road with Greg, Morgan had quickly forgotten all about what her father had said. She was focusing on what Greg had managed to find out about the new case in the short time since they'd left the forensics lab.
"Have you ever heard of Gabbs, Nevada?" Asked Morgan.
"I don't believe I have." Greg admitted. "But I did a quick Wikipedia search before I left the history of Gabbs basically follows the story of most of the little towns around Nevada. Gabbs came to be when a Magnesium plant was built nearby. Times changed, the magnesium plant closed, population declined and now there are only two hundred and sixty nine occupants left."
"Two hundred and sixty eight now." Replied Morgan. "From what I read, the lone person killed was a sixteen year old girl. The male who was shot was around twenty five years old. I'm wondering if this is a lover's quarrel."
"The shooting happened at the injured male's house. There's really not much more we can go on until we get there and meet with the detective."
Morgan gave an involuntary yawn as she searched the horizon, the first peek of colour finally showing. "Did Catherine say where the department has booked us rooms to sleep?"
Greg nodded. "Yeah she did. Apparently the only hotel in the area burned to the ground a while ago and nobody bothered to rebuild it."
"We're sleeping in the car?" Morgan said, looking at Greg suspiciously.
"No. Lucky for us, the local town sheriff is putting us up at his place. It's kind of unorthodox, but I guess it beats the alternative."
"Sleeping in the car?"
"No, commuting four hours each way."
Morgan grunted. "Well, this town seems to be getting smaller by the day. The next decent coffee shop you see, you'd better pull off the highway and get me a massive cup of coffee. I don't want to be drinking local swill."
"Is Morgan Brody too good for a small town?" Greg looked over at Morgan who was frowning in the passenger seat.
"I live in Vegas for a reason." She replied with a shrug. "I like the big city amenities."
The sun rose as Greg and Morgan amused each other with stories from their childhood. As the car turned off the highway and onto the main road leading to the small town, the two stopped talking and looked around at their temporary home base. It was a stereotypical shabby, forgotten little town. It looked like a movie set for a Western. A few small buildings still had wooden frames, although sun and age had weathered the wood greatly. Some buildings had fresh coats of paint, while others had dull, weather faded exteriors. There were some small businesses dotted along the main street, the odd car passing by in the other direction.
"There's your coffee place." Greg pointed to a small diner attached to a small gas station with a pair of gas pumps standing proudly out front.
Morgan's eyes followed Greg's outstretched hand and looked over at the small town diner. Surprisingly it reminded Morgan of Franks' restaurant in Las Vegas. The big difference was an old fashioned wooden sign hanging sign on the boulevard, proclaiming "Lou's Lunch."
Greg continued to follow the GPS instructions and turned onto the road where the crime scene was located . In the near distance they could see a gathering of people. A small crowd had gathered around the police tape, cornering off the small, sun faded white trailer where the crime had taken place. Almost in unison, the crowd heard the Denali coming down the street and they turned to watch Greg slowly drive down the street towards the police tape. A Police officer shooed a few people out of a dirt area on the side of the road and pointed for Greg to park.
"Everyone is watching, I see." Remarked Morgan quietly, as she surveyed the people still watching the Denali. "Small town entertainment." She shook her head.
"We get the same thing in Vegas." replied Greg. "Small or large towns, people are curious."
As the two CSI's opened the trunk of the Denali, a tall, thin man came walking over. He immediately introduced himself as the lead police officer, Albert Lang. Welcoming them to Gabbs, he immediately launched into a clearly practiced speech.
"We have a deceased female in the premises behind me." Officer Lang, turned and motioned to the mobile home behind him. "The male has been transported to the nearest hospital that can handle his injuries. The EMT's were able to provide lifesaving care in the ambulance. We have received word back that he is in stable condition. He is currently undergoing surgery to repair his jaw. If there is anything else you require, please let me know and I'll be happy to help you."
Greg and Morgan gave each other a brief glance before thanking the young officer and moving towards the mobile home. After a careful documentation of the perimeter, Greg and Morgan walked up the small porch and entered the mobile home. They walked over the threshold, getting their first look at the interior. It was a small home. To the right of the entrance was the living room and to the left was the kitchen, the only way to know one from the other was the dividing line of carpet and linoleum. The home was decorated in typical youth fashion, posters of rock bands on the walls and beer cans haphazardly placed on the small wooden table in the kitchen. Looking around, Greg stepped into the living room, taking note of the blood trail from the living room to the kitchen.
"Found the victim. She's behind the couch." Greg pointed over at couch, facing a small electric fireplace, and above the fireplace, a flat screen TV was mounted on the wall.
Tentatively, Officer Lang stepped into the house. "The Male was shot in the head." He said, standing awkwardly in the foyer, unsure if he should step further into the room.
"Were there just two people in the room at the time of the shooting?" Asked Greg. "There are a lot of beer cans in the kitchen. Was there a party happening when the female was shot?"
"No sir," said Officer Lang, "Just a few kids hanging out on a Tuesday night."
"How many people live in this house?" Asked Morgan, as took photographs of the deceased woman, crumpled on the floor, blood pooled around the head.
"The male shooting victim, Nathan Dobson and Martin Smith both rent the place." The Officer replied, still staying safely in the doorway. "Martin is the one who found the bodies. He ran down the street to his parent's house and got his mom. She was the one who called 911. Smith seems pretty shook up. I haven't got much from him. He's pretty distraught."
"Thanks for your help." Replied Greg. Turning to Morgan he said, "Are you ready to do a walk around?"
"Yeah."
They carefully made their way to the far side of the living room, avoiding blood droplets dotted along the floor. They both moved to where the deceased female laid, crumpled on the floor. Looking up to the couch, Greg pointed to a spray of blood on the couch.
"I guess this is where Nathan Dobson tried to shoot himself. There is a significant blood event on that spot."
Morgan walked over to the couch and crouched, studying the blood on the ground. She followed the trail of blood, starting at the large pool on the floor, and moving alongside the smaller puddles and then finally, drops as Nathan had made his way from the couch to the kitchen sink.
"Directionality indicates that Nathan was walking to the kitchen after he shot himself." Morgan called to Greg as she walked over to the kitchen sink. The sink had large, deep blood drops dotting the bottom and splattered along the sides.
"All blood here indicates gravitational drops." Morgan said.
"Oh, Martin's mother came into the kitchen and tried to help Nathan." Supplied the detective from the door. "She gave him a towel to put on his wound."
"How many people have been in here after the murder?" Greg turned around and looked at the Officer. "Would you be able to provide us with a list of people? We need everyone, including paramedics. We'll have to get shoe impressions as well."
"Sure thing! I'll go do that right now." Said Officer Lang, seeming grateful for something to do as he turned around and left the house.
"With small town cases, the evidence tends to be a little more compromised because of inexperience in proper police protocol." Greg said quietly as he came to stand beside Morgan. "It may provide a bit of a problem as we go to court. We'll have to document as much as we can. Unfortunately, getting here about seven hours after the murder, lets a lot of doubt to be cast on our evidence in court."
"Yeah." Agreed Morgan. "There could have been a lot of unintentional evidence tampering. Let's just processes this scene as quickly as possible and then we can speak with the detectives and paramedics."