A/N: Revisiting a cold case leads to awakening for Grissom. Despite Sara's absence from this chapter, this is definitely going to be GSR. Updates may be slow due on ongoing computer problems. Aargh.
Spoilers: So far, not much.
Disclaimer: Please! If I owned them, they'd have celebrated an anniversary ( or three) by now.
Some people stay far away from the door
If there's a chance of it opening up
They hear a voice in the hall outside
And hope that it just passes by
Billy Joel, "An Innocent Man"
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"Man, this just isn't cool," Warrick Brown slammed the book down on the table. "This guy went out of his way to make sure everyone knew who he was talking about."
Catherine turned to face him, her curiosity piqued. "Do tell."
"This cop, this..." he scanned the cover of the paperback, "Mark Tenney, wrote this book, 'based on a true story', he says. About a park ranger who was found dead in the Valley of Fire State Park. He throws around a lot of innuendo about the way the case was handled by the CSI, an eccentric forensic entomologist."
"And what did this eccentric forensic entomologist do that Tenney disagreed with?"
"Called the case a suicide. Tenney makes a case for homicide, makes it look like CSI bungled it." Warrick shook his head and slowly exhaled. "Ever hear of this guy?"
"Tenney?" Catherine took a seat beside her friend and coworker. "Vaguely familiar. Seems like he might have retired right after I started here. Wow, good thing Gil's got thick skin." Immediately after the words came out, she doubted them. Grissom's work was of utmost importance to him. While he put up a brave front, he never appreciated being questioned about it. If Tenney's arguments proved to have any validity, Gil might indeed take it very badly. And it wouldn't be merely a wounded ego at having been wrong; it would also mean that someone had gotten away with murder, and, because of his error, the trail was now ice cold.
"I don't know about that. He takes a lot of pride in how he does his job."
She considered a moment before continuing. "Does Tenney present a reasonable argument? Does he give any specifics?"
"Tenney?" Grissom appeared at the head of the table. "Mark Tenney?"
Catherine was surprised by his entrance into the room and the conversation, but recovered quickly. "Do you remember him?" How much had he heard?
"Unfortunately."
Warrick slowly stretched his arm to offer the offending novel to his supervisor. "Do you remember this case?"
"Refresh me," Grissom's brow furrowed as he read over the summary on the back cover.
"Aaron Dunphy. He was a ranger at the Valley of Fire."
Gil nodded, the case outlined in the paragraph becoming quite familiar. "That's a pseudonym, actually. He hanged himself in the desert."
"Officer Tenney has a different version of events." Catherine watched his face closely, determined to catalog any reaction he might give.
"He was quite vocal about it, as I recall. But the evidence said suicide," Gil countered firmly.
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Grissom closed his briefcase and logged off his computer. Jacket donned, he tucked his glasses into the breast pocket. A quick glance around the office revealed nothing out of place, so he switched off the light, closed the door behind him and headed for home.
The Saturday morning traffic was scant, but still he somehow managed to hit every light red. The more you just want to crawl into bed, the further away it gets, he lamented to himself.
Tenney's book was bothersome. Yes, it seemed like just another true crime novel, and Gil had always known it was only a matter of time before one of his cases ended up as fodder for the genre, but this one troubled him. He tried to replay the details in his mind. Alas, 1993 was a long time ago, and he had worked many, many cases since then. He made a mental note to pull the file next time he was at work.
He sometimes ate breakfast before going to bed, but today he was exhausted. He sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly struck by an odd sense of isolation. The house was very quiet, as it was every day. In the past, he'd found it comfortable. He had found peace in his safe and controlled environment. How curious that what was once comforting was now disconcerting. When had that changed?
Sleep came in disturbed waves, interrupted with unbidden images. A body hanging from a rocky crag. A man placing the barrel of a gun into his mouth and pulling the trigger. Blood spattering onto a wall. The eyelids of a badly burned woman suddenly fluttering open. A beautiful and frighteningly familiar dead woman posed on a shower floor.
He turned and peered at the clock. Two thirty in the afternoon. Though it was early, he decided it was best just to get up. He rarely had nightmares, but he had learned that when he did, there was no point in battling them.
Somehow his townhouse was even more quiet than it had been when he'd gone to sleep. The distant sound of children's laughter streaming in from the pool area failed to enliven his home; instead it served only to make it seem more empty.
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"Just can't stay out of trouble, can you, Gil?"
Damn. Ecklie. The last voice Grissom wanted to hear as he prepared for the night's shift.
"Did you need something, Conrad?"
"A few minutes of your attention. In my office." Grissom grudgingly entered and stood across the desk from his longtime antagonist.
"Have a seat."
"I'm fine, thank you."
"Suit yourself," Ecklie smiled snidely.
"What's this about?" Grissom stood with his arm around his files, appearing nonchalant.
"Valley of Fire," Ecklie read from the cover, "a tale of murder and mystery, based on a true story."
Gil stared icily. "I'm familiar with it."
"Relax, Gil, I'm not accusing you of anything. I remember Mark Tenney." Conrad pronounced the former detective's name with a venom that suggested he felt the same way about the man as Grissom did.
"So why am I here?"
The lab director leaned back in his chair. "You're here because the mayor wants this...audited, if you will. We're going to review the case and make sure all the 'i's are dotted and all the 't's are crossed."
"And make sure I didn't miss anything."
"Well, that does come with the territory. This isn't a persecution, Gil. We just want to know what happened. This lab can't afford any more bad publicity."
Grissom sighed. "And what will I be doing?"
"Your job. Minus the CSIs we'll be assigning to the case. Don't look so skeptical. I told you, you're not being accused of anything."
TBC
