Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Wish they were, but they're not. Que Sera Sera.
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"Why do you always have to be so difficult?"
"Why do you always have to be so indifferent?"
"I know I'm right on this!" she growled
"The evidence suggests otherwise." He replied in calm tones
Turning on her heel and leaving Grissom's office, Sara stormed down the hall and into the break room where she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat on the couch, setting the cup on the small table in front of her. At the same time Jim was entering the lab and saw the rapid pace at which Sara flew down the hall. Following her, he came to sit beside her on the couch and looked over at her.
"What's the matter, sister?" he asked
Reluctant to answer, she just sat there for a moment, not saying anything. After a while, Jim spoke up again.
"Does this have anything to do with a certain bullheaded entomologist that rules this lab with a jellied ham-fist?"
Sara just looked at him and offered a slight smile at Jim's dig at Grissom. She even gave a little laugh. She looked back at him and he could see the struggle in her eyes. Always wanting to help out, especially when it came to Sara, Jim prodded her.
"You can't resolve a problem if you don't think it out, and talking it out with someone usually helps. So, tell Brother Jimmy what's the matter." He said smiling
Looking as though she were about to cry, Sara began to explain.
"This case that he's got me working on, I KNOW the guy did it, but Grissom insists that the evidence doesn't support my findings. My findings are sound. I've gone over then, like three or four times, but Mr. Know-it-all thinks he knows different. He said that just because the guy's prints are all over the place, but not on the murder weapon, suggests that he was ONLY there and not the killer. He wore gloves when he killed her, I turned them inside out and his prints were all over the inside. He says that since it was cold out anyone would have most likely been wearing gloves. The only chink in the armour is that the guy has a receipt from Henderson saying he was at a motel when the crime was committed. I know for a fact that he's got a sister that lives in Henderson and could have easily helped him with his alibi. I went to the hotel and asked the desk clerk that was on duty that night and at first he didn't want to talk, but I showed him a picture of the guy and he said that there were a couple guys fitting that description, more or less, that were there that night. I processed the room that the guy supposedly stayed in that night but there was nothing, I mean NOTHING. Either they've got a really good cleaning crew or he was never there……..I know I'm right, Jim." She explained
Placing his hand on her knee, Jim turned to look at her closer and gave a sigh.
"Sara, sometimes in life we have to choose our battles. If you're willing to fight to the end, I'll work with you, help you out. Give me what you've got and when I get home this morning I'll look it over. I'll be doing this in my free time, so it might take a few days, but if you're confident this guy did it, we'll nail him to the wall." He said sternly
"I can do this on my own, Jim. But thanks."
"Sara, part of being a good or great CSI knows when to admit you're wrong, which I don't believe you are, and knowing when to ask for help when you've hit an impasse."
"I haven't hit an impasse. I think that if you and I could get him alone in an interrogation room we could get it out of him. I've met the guy when we had him the first time a couple years back………….he's not the sharpest tool in the shed." She explained
"Fine, you do things on your end and I'll do things on my end. I'll see if there's anything innocuous we can bring him in on, like unpaid tickets or something like that."
Jim got up, poured him a cup of coffee and as he left the room he patted Sara on the back and softly said, "We'll get him."
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Sitting in his office, still fuming over his and Sara's battle of words, Grissom had removed his glasses, set them on the desk in front of him and was currently leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on his desk, seemingly trying to control his breathing. His knuckles were white, his face red and he looked generally uncomfortable, despite his relaxed position.
Not bothering to knock on the door, Jim just came in and sat across from him, staring over at him. After a few minutes, his eyes still closed, Grissom spoke.
"What do you want, Jim?"
"I just thought you might want to talk." He replied
"I don't want to talk, Jim. I want to be left alone to do my job."
"Funny, I didn't realize lounging in your office was part of your job description, what with all the current cases running." Jim joked
"Go away, Jim. I'm not in the mood."
"Well, maybe you should GET in the mood. There's a real puzzle out there and if I'm not mistaken you like puzzles, especially hard ones."
"I do like puzzles, but this one isn't mine, it's hers. She thinks she's right, let her prove it."
Getting up and turning, Jim smiled.
"Well, it's a slow night. I'm going on a road trip. I gotta see a man about a room."
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In Henderson, Jim had just pulled into the strip lot of the motel in question and mini recorder in hand and badge firmly affixed to his breast pocket, he climbed out of his car and went inside, ringing the bell on the desk. Almost out of "From Dusk Til Dawn", he rang the bell a few times and when no one showed he got so frustrated that he palmed the bell and slammed it on the counter. Finally, a youngish man appeared from the back offering apologies.
"Sorry, sir. I was just watching a bit of "Jackass"."
Pointing to his badge and pulling the recorder from his pocket and set it on the counter between them, switching it to record. Looking down at it, the young man smiled.
"Do I need a lawyer?" he asked
"Only if you want one." Jim replied
"I've got nothing to hide, so grill me."
Directing his voice to the recorder, Jim began.
"This Captain Jim Brass deposing…(points to the young man)"
"Benny Jett."
"Mr. Jett has waived counsel and this interview is being conducted at the Forest Pines Motel in Henderson, Nevada. Mr. Jett, were you on duty on this past Monday night?"
"All night, sir." He replied
Pulling the picture from his pocket, he showed it to the young man.
"Did this man check in to this motel on that night?" Jim asked
"Yeah, I guess. But there must have been some convention that night."
"Why do you say that?"
"There were around three or four guys that all looked similar to him that checked in that night……………brothers or cousins, maybe."
Taking the pic from Jim, Benny took a closer look at it and grinned.
"Yeah, this guy……………definitely. See the scar on his hairline? In this picture his hair is longer, so it's harder to see, but at the time his hair was shorter and very noticeable. It's about two inches long and kind of jagged………..Oh, and something I forgot to tell the pretty lady that came in earlier…….this guy, right after he checked in, he peeled out of here like there was a firecracker up his ass. He didn't even go to his room. Does that help?"
"Tremendously. Is there anything else you can remember?"
"Yeah, now that you mention it, when he smiled, his front tooth was chipped…..not bad, but noticeably so. I forgot to tell the lady that, too."
"Well, thanks Benny. You've been very helpful."
As Jim turned to leave, Benny called to him.
"Hey, man. We've got interior and exterior surveillance cameras here. You want me to make copies of the tapes? If this guy did something wrong, he deserves what he gets. I forgot that, too."
"That would be great." Jim said satisfaction evident in his voice
As Benny went into the back again, Jim caught a whiff of pot wafting through the air. Thinking to himself, he wasn't surprised the guy forgot so much when Sara came by before.
Within the hour Jim had two tapes, one of the guy and his buddies checking in and another of him flooring it out of the parking lot. He would say nothing of the marijuana, as Benny was so helpful, but warned him that he knew and if he had to come back there again and smelled it again, he'd haul him in. Jim left his business card with instructions to call if he "remembered" anything new.
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On his way back to Vegas Jim called Sara and imparted the news to her. Upon hearing the news, she let out a "Hot Damn" and went to the A/V lab to find Archie and ask him to bring up the mug shot of the perp, Harold Coors. The image on the larger screen, she instructed Archie to focus in on the scar on the guy's head. Looking through Harold's "Jacket" again, she saw a long list of petty crimes and misdemeanors that had escalated to assault with intent to do bodily harm and even a near miss manslaughter charge. Moving to a computer beside Archie, she brought up Harold Coors's stats and found trouble…………he was from a well to do family that had a lot of money, maybe that's how he got off on the manslaughter charge…………a good lawyer. Finding the address of his parents, Sara decided to pay them a visit. Deciding it would benefit her to bring back-up, she went in search of Nick who was pretty much doing nothing. Not being able to find him, she called Jim and just as she stepped outside the lab he pulled into his spot. Before he had the chance to get out of his car she jumped in and turned to him, file folders in hand, and smiled.
"Wanna go for another ride?" she asked
"Sure, but you drive. I'm tired."
Switching seats, they left the lab and drove to Boulder City and Vaquero Drive. It was near midnight when they arrived and as they approached the house they saw that most of the lights were still on. Before he could knock on the door it opened, and a bit surprised, Jim flashed his badge when he saw the elder Mr. Coors. He was a man in his mid fifties, in good physical health and presented himself well. Turning his head, he called to his wife.
"Jinny, the cops are here. So, what did Harold do, now?"
As Mrs. Coors came to her husband's side, they invited Jim and Sara inside and moved into the spacious family room where "Trauma, Life in the ER" was on the large flat screen tellie. Mrs. Coors was an average sized woman, looking young for her age with a very sweet disposition. Turning down the volume, Mr. Coors, re-issued his question while the Mrs. Asked if Jim and Sara wanted any refreshments, retreating into the kitchen and returning with two bottles of water. Both Mr. and Mrs. On the couch and Jim and Sara on the love seat, Jim began.
"I'm Captain Brass of the LVPD and this is my associate, Sara Sidle of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. When was the last time you saw your son, Harold?"
"The last time we saw him was around four years ago when he was being held for manslaughter. We got him a lawyer and told him that that was the last we wanted to see of him. As far as we're concerned we only have four sons and one daughter now. We've been bailing him out since he was a kid and we've tired of it. He's out of the will and when he comes round' we call the police…….we've got a restraining order against him ever since he attacked his mother right after that last incident. He damn near killed her. Show them the scar, Jinny." Mr. Coors said
Unbuttoning the three buttons on her shirt and pulling away the collar, Jim and Sara could see the near miss scar that had apparently just missed the woman's heart.
"He came here saying he was drunk and ran some guy over. When we said we wouldn't help him, he grabbed his mother and a knife from his boot and held it to her chest, demanding we call our lawyer. So, I did. As soon as the trial was over we had the order placed and got these…….." he said, pulling a 9mm handgun from under the couch cushion. "They're all registered, six in all, nearly one in every other room. He's got a violent streak and we've got a right, as free and law abiding citizens to protect ourselves, even from our own son……we've even changed to entry code for our alarm system and had a perimeter alarm installed around the property."
"Are these your children?" Sara asked, looking at a family photo
"Yes, that's Henry, David, Mark, Harold, Stephan and Caroline." Jinny said, pointing from left to right
"So, I ask you again, what did Harold do this time?" Mr. Coors asked, a bit more stern this time
"Agh, same old, same old, except this time it wasn't manslaughter." Jim replied
"Oh, my God. Was it Marjorie Bainbridge over on Garnet Place?" Jinny asked, her hand on her chest
"You knew her?" Sara asked, taking notes
"We'd golf every Sunday. She had such a kind heart. Tell me, her safe was open and her strongbox empty, right?" Jinny asked
"We can't discuss any of the details, sorry." Jim said flatly
"Well, I'll tell you this. She kept large amounts of cash on hand, as well as bonds and jewelry. The good thing is that she kept records of everything. She's got a ledger of her bonds and pictures of every piece of jewelry that she owned along with they're appraised values. If I were you, I'd check the banks and pawn shops. The bonds may have been cashed in, but banks have surveillance as do most pawn shops. We're fully willing to help out in any way we can. The ledger and the photo album with the pictures of the jewelry are in her office in the safe behind the framed collection of her late husband's war medals, citations and folded flag. Look on the encasement for the combination." Mr. Coors explained
"Well, thank you very much, Mr. and Mrs. Coors, you've been very helpful." Jim said
Reaching into his pocket and pulling out another business card, he handed it to the older man and Sara hers, to the Mrs.
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Standing outside, across the street on Vaquero Drive, well out of sight but not so much so that he couldn't see what was going on, Harold watched as Jim and Sara climbed back into his car and drove off, back to Vegas with their bounty of incriminating information. In his eyes, Harold's, that is, his parents were traitors………….blood doesn't rat on blood. The anger welling up from within him, Harold waited until Jim and Sara were well out of sight before he crossed the street and walked onto his parent's property, immediately tripping the quiet alarm on the inside of the house, the same one that had gone off when Jim and Sara had shown up. That's why the door had been opened before Jim had knocked. Hearing the alarm and looking at the exterior camera feed, the elder Coors immediately picked up his cell phone and called Jim's number on the card he'd been given.
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Only a few blocks away, Jim's cell rang and he handed it to Sara who answered it. The conversation was brief and when she hung up, she told Jim what was going on. He called for back-up and whipped a U-turn at the next intersection and floored it back to the Coors home just in time to see Harold standing outside, knocking on the door. When the door opened Mr. Coors stood there with a shotgun pointed at his son's chest. As there were no lights and no sirens Harold was caught completely off guard when Jim came running up on him and did a better tackle, landing Harold on the ground, at the feet of his father, and handcuffing him.
"I told you not to come back here. You're no son of mine, you're dead to me." Shouted the elder
"I got em', Mr. Coors. You can put the gun down now." Jim said, Sara at his side, her weapon drawn and trained on Harold while Jim was hoisting him up
Moments later back-up arrived and Harold was escorted into the back of a waiting cruiser and immediately taken to the LVPD.
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Alone and still cuffed, sitting in the interrogation room, Harold was going over his story in his mind. After a few minutes Jim and Sara showed up, both carrying file folders. Sitting down, Sara opened her folder while Jim stood behind her, his back to the wall, watching. Opening her folder, Sara began.
"Marjorie Bainbridge, aged 68, married to General Walter Bainbridge for 40 years before he was killed in action. Wealthy heiress to the Stockwood Coffee fortune. Murdered five days ago, her safe open and empty and her strongbox gone. You gained entry through a window she kept slightly open in the smoking room. You wore black leather gloves, had her open her safe, killed her and disposed of the gloves when you were done."
When Sara was done with her summation, she took a long look at Harold who was growing increasingly agitated and uncomfortable. Seeing this and smiling, Jim tossed the other folder on the table in front of Sara who caught it as it slid in front of her. Opening it, she continued.
"Harold Coors. Your criminal record begins at the ripe old age of ten years old with a string of petty thefts and misdemeanors. Then in your mid-teens you escalated to more severe crimes such as assault, grand theft and manslaughter, among others. Do I have my facts correct, sir?"
His face red, his pupils dilated and his fingers splayed and flexing, he made to get up and Jim quickly moved behind him and forced him back down with a hand on his shoulder.
"When you're in here, you stay in the chair unless Officer Landry, out there in the hall, takes you to your cell. Got it?" Jim said calmly
His hand still on his shoulder, Jim could feel the muscles in the man's neck and upper back flex, so he tightened his grip. Turning his head and looking up at Jim, Harold smiled.
"Take your hands off me, man."
"You're not too smart, are you? See, this is one hand (holding up his free hand) and this is the other." Jim said, tightening his grip more to illustrate his point
Sara grinned and continued.
"We've heard your alibi and it's got more holes than a paper target at a firing range. You say you were in Henderson, which you were. You said you checked into a motel, which you did. However, we've got videotape evidence proving that you never went to your room, but got back into your car and went to the Bainbridge residence. We've acquired footage from neighbourhood streetlamp cameras that show your car, driving down the street, parking at the end of the street and walking to the house. Luckily, there's a camera right in front of the late Mrs. Bainbridge's house, it shows you walking onto her property and going round' back. That's where we lose you, but not for your prints on the slightly open window." Sara said confidently
From behind Harold, Jim spoke up.
"Like I said, you're not too bright. What I can't understand is why did you use your bare hands on the glass of the window, then put your gloves on to open the window and then take them off when you were in the house. That's just plain stupid."
Harold mumbled, "I didn't want to get a splinter opening the window."
Sara grinned wider.
"Sounds like we've got a confession………I swear, the dimwittedness of some people."
Furious beyond all reasonable thought, Harold broke free of Jim's grasp and lunged across the table at Sara, wrapping his cuffed around her neck and moving behind her, backing them against the closed doorl, using her as a shield. Her hands quickly went up to create a barrier between the links in the cuffs and her throat. She could breathe, but only just barely. Jim drew his weapon and aimed it at Harold. Thank God for Sara being so thin and Harold being a taller man, as Jim has a lot to aim at. His weapon trained, he issued his only orders.
"Let her go and I won't have to shoot you. Let her go and you can walk out of her as opposed to being carried out. Look, you're looking at first degree murder, unlawful entry, violation of a protective order and not assault on a federal officer. You're screwed, man. So, as I said, let her go or I WILL shoot you!" Jim explained
"I'm not going to jail, shortstack."
Struggling, Sara managed to cup her hands slightly, in effect creating a bit more breathing room for herself. Seeing this, Jim's mind was a bit more at ease, but not much more.
Suddenly, the door opened and forced Harold and Sara onto the floor where she managed to roll them over so that she was on top. This time her hands were free, but now Harold's hands were wrapped around her neck, his thumbs pressing on her Hyoid bone. Standing there, Nick was frozen, a folder in his hand.
"Drop the gun, pint size, or she dies." Harold said calmly
With her last remaining breaths, Sara managed a few words.
"Count to three."
Jim heard this and began to count. When he reached three, Sara lurched and threw Harold around enough forJimto get a shot at him, which he took. The shot was a through, and through, as the distance between them was so close going right in through the upper left Clavicle and exiting through the Scapula. This forced Harold up and back, bringing Sara with him. Her neck no longer in danger, but in the same position as before, she cupped her hands again and winked at Jim. At this point Harold was bleeding quite a bit and in obvious pain. Jim had to think quickly and though he hated himself for what he was about to do, his facial expression changed from anger and concern to one of sorrow and regret.
"I'm so sorry, Sara." He said, pulling the trigger twice
Harold dropped as did Sara and as Jim ran to her side Nick finally spoke.
"What the hell is going on here?"
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Sitting at her bedside, Jim held Sara's hand until she woke from the sedative they'd given her in the operating room. Her mouth dry and her vision blurry, she mouthed that she wanted some water. Jim grabbed the bottle at his feet and cradling her head, held toe bottle to her lips so she might drink. Resting her head back on the pillow, he took her hand again and looked as though her were about to cry.
"I'm so sorry Sara. I didn't want to do it, but I saw no other viable solution." He said softly
Taking a few moments to compose herself and organize her thoughts, she replied.
"After I winked, I saw the look on your face and I knew what was coming. That's why I winked. I knew that was the only way you'd be able to get the guy under control. Besides, if I'm gonna get shot, better by you than someone else, like Nick or Greg. I know your mind, Jim and I forgive you completely. If our places were reversed, I would have done the same." She explained
"So you don't hate me for shooting you twice?" he asked solemnly
"Twice? Where'd they go?" she asked
Reluctant to say, she glared at him until he spilled.
"Well, the first one was to try and disable him, but it didn't work, so I got you in the left arm, right here. Here's the bullet.." He said, pointing to his arm and holding up a small zip-lock type baggie
"And the second?" she plied
"The second was another through and through. At that point I was about five feet from you and yours went in just below your Clavicle and out your Scapula, lodging itself in his chest. You'll be fine……..a few weeks sick time and you'll be good as new."
"What about Harold?"
Nothing.
"Jim, what about Harold?"
"He's dead, Sara. Your through and through wound up to be fatal to him. He dropped and at that point I was more concerned with you than him. Good thing he was so much taller than you or I'd have lost you………..I don't want to lose you, Sara." Jim said, burying his face in his still bloody hands
Reaching over and lifting his head from a finger under his chin, she looked into his tearing eyes.
"Jim, I don't blame you at all. And as for losing me, don't worry about that. I have no plans to go anywhere, anytime soon. Besides, you're my Guardian Angel. You've been looking out for me since I got here and I've always loved you for that and being who you are, not trying to impress me." She said
And with that, Sara slowly drifted back to sleep and Jim sat there watching her, going over her words in his head, "I've always loved you being who you are."
The End
