DISCLAIMER: "CSI: CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATION" and other related entities are owned, (TM) and (c) by ANTHONY E. ZUIKER, JERRY BRUCKHEIMER Television, CBS Worldwide Inc., Alliance Atlantis Corporation, CSI Productions and CBS Productions, All Rights Reserved. This is a purely an outlet of creative writing inspired by a superb TV series. The character of Iris King is my own creation.
A/N: The mysterious disappearance of a young couple and the subsequent crime investigation cause Brass and Iris to embark on a case fraught with twists and turns that will test the mettle of their relationship.
Episode Influences: "Fallen Idols; Way To Go; A Bullet Runs Through it (I & II)."
Rated: M (for sensuality)
Acknowledgements: William Shakespeare Sonnet 47. "When You Say Nothing at All," sung by Allison Krause and Keith Whitley, written by Don Schultz and Paul Overstreet. "Your Man," sung by Josh Turner, written by Chris Dubois, Chris Stapleton, Jace Everett. "Let Me," sung by Pat Green; I was unable to locate the songwriter(s).
Thanks to JoanP for her flawless beta assistance and input, and to MelO for being a sounding board.
"A Shot in the Dark"
Chapter One
The young couple looked immediately out of place as they pulled up in front of a run-down house in a Mercedes Benz SLK sport coupe. The home had burglar bars on the windows and front door. A dog could be heard barking angrily in the back yard. The man made another quick call on his cell phone.
"I don't like it here, so could we please go?" The young woman asked, nervously twisting her long, curly blonde hair between her fingers.
"This'll only take a minute. My contact is dry so this is the quickest score I could manage. He recommended these dudes who'll take care of me! I'll be right back! Don't worry about your dad. Both our parents think we've gone out of town for a trip to Cancun." Her male companion reassured her, giving her a quick kiss as he got out of the car and headed up to the house to knock on the door of the dimly lit front porch. The door opened and he stepped inside.
Several minutes passed and the door opened again, the young woman's eyes straining to make out three figures approaching the car. Her companion was flanked by two Hispanic men. Her heart began to pound fearfully as the adrenalin flushed through her body.
"Jeremy?"
"Just do as they say, Taryn, and we'll be okay."
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The patrolman passed the car again on his rounds. It was parked sideways in a Kroger parking lot and took up four spaces. The store manager had called to complain since the car had been sitting there for over 24 hours and had never been moved. He ran the plate as per usual protocol and the return he got caused him to curse as he quickly reached for his car radio.
Brass met Grissom and Catherine at the scene of the abandoned car which was now cordoned off.
"I've got the whole team pulled in as you said to get here quick, Jim, so what's the story here? Grissom asked as he set his kit on the ground. Catherine stood by him as she also surveyed the scene, pausing to push away a strand of her fiery red hair as it strayed across her cheek.
"The sheriff's requesting you and your team personally for this one, Gil. Ecklie's probably going to crap a brick without benefit of lubrication but that's life in the political lane," Brass said as he opened up his pocket notepad out to review his notes.
"Looks pretty routine, Jim, even though it's a Mercedes," Catherine observed.
"This little beauty is registered to a Jeremy Towers," Jim read from his notes.
"Who is…?" Catherine questioned with a curious look.
"Son of Anthony Towers, millionaire real estate broker and owner of the luxury condo Twin Towers here in Vegas," Brass clarified.
"Lifestyles of the rich and famous," Grissom commented wryly.
"Gil, it gets better. Jeremy was reported missing by his father this morning after not retuning home for well over a week. He was last seen on a date with his girlfriend," Brass said, pausing, to keep the suspense going.
"Rich boy goes out with rich girlfriend or someone from the wrong side of the tracks?" Catherine supposed with an arched brow.
"Nah, try Taryn McGregor, daughter of District Attorney Ian McGregor, who was also reported missing by her father at the same time," Brass stated with a cocked eyebrow while his chin jutted thoughtfully.
"The same new district attorney whose been going aggressively after the jugular of drug dealers and traffickers these last six months and making a name for himself?" Grissom recalled.
"Give that man a cigar!" Brass exclaimed. "The couple was supposed to be on vacation in Cancun but neither of them showed up to work yesterday or at home. The parents haven't heard from either of them and calls to their cell or home phones go to voicemail."
"So the news hasn't gotten hold of this tidbit yet?" Catherine asked, opening her kit.
"Let's just say the sheriff and undersheriff want this handled discretely before a full-blown disclosure is made. The LVPD was given the license number of Jeremy's car and a patrolman responding to a complaint of an abandoned car called in the plate number and here we are," Brass indicated further from his notes.
"Catherine, shall we?" Grissom questioned as he gloved up and made ready to dust his side for fingerprints before opening the car door while Catherine did the same.
"Oh, Lord, won't you please buy me a Mercedes Benz," Catherine sang off-key in a false raspy Southern drawl to mimic Janis Joplin as Grissom shot her an amused glance.
"I don't think American Idol's holding any auditions in Vegas in the near future, so
front seat or back seat?" Grissom joked dryly. "Hmm, I got partials and full prints."
"Back seat, where the action is…sugah," Catherine replied with a slight smirk. She showed Grissom the prints she'd lifted herself before she enveloped them.
Catherine heard Brass snorting in laughter behind her and shot him a wink which he returned with a blowing kiss.
"Have fun, you two! I'm headed back to the office, call my cell if you need anything," Brass chuckled as he headed to his Dodge Charger.
Catherine began to scrutinize the back seat, collecting several strands of long, curling blondish hair as well as shorter auburn hair, carefully separating and bagging the hairs. Quick use of her UV light showed some stains in the upholstery that she swiftly swabbed and capped.
Grissom was also checking over every nook and cranny that the front seat had to offer. He took representative samples of fibers and miscellaneous particulate matter from the seat cushions and floorboard. A piece of pink silky fabric was on the floorboard of the front passenger side that was frayed as if torn from the original article of clothing. Grissom also bagged and catalogued this. Finally, he dusted for prints and lifted three different sets from the steering wheel and dashboard area as well as inner door handles.
"Not much to speak of here, Gil, other than some back seat fun from the stains I swabbed," Catherine mused as she shut her kit.
"There's no sign of forced entry, no blood, nothing looks out of place…hello," Grissom pondered as he suddenly spied something poking out from under the sun visor above the driver's side. He reached in and pulled out a legal-size white envelope. Catherine looked on quizzically.
Scrawled on the envelope was "confession is good for the soul" that Grissom read aloud, then checked inside it and found nothing in it. He also bagged the envelope to take on to the lab.
"What's it mean?" Catherine wondered after hearing Grissom read the cryptic handwriting.
"Let's get the car back to the lab and I'll have Warrick go over it further," Grissom said with a slight shrug of his shoulders as he shut his case, but his head was cocked with that intense gaze that was a trademark of his. Catherine walked with him back to his Denali as a tow truck arrived to transport the car back to the crime lab.
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"Detective Brass?" Jim heard a deep voice say as he looked up from his desk and recognized District Attorney Ian McGregor. Business was good for the homicide department as the murder rate was up in the parts of Las Vegas most infested by pushers and dealers, a byproduct of the DA's aggressive investigation and crackdown tactics. Yet this had also put the district attorney in the sights of those of the criminal persuasion whose profits from drug dealing and/or trafficking were being curtailed by McGregor's efforts.
"The car belonging to your daughter's boyfriend was found abandoned in the parking lot of a Kroger's in Henderson. It's being brought back to the crime lab for the CSI's to continue processing for evidence."
"Is there any word on the whereabouts of Taryn or Jeremy?"
"No, sir, we're still looking for them."
"Are these your best CSI's?"
"Gil Grissom and the rest of his team are top-notch and will be thorough, you have my promise. The sheriff and undersheriff personally requested them."
"Do you have any children, Detective Brass?"
"Uh, yeah, my daughter is in her twenties."
"So is Taryn. Please treat this as if it were your daughter missing out there," Ian McGregor said softly as he left Brass' office.
Brass rubbed the back of his neck, memories of Ellie flooding forth; yeah, he could relate on a personal note about looking for a missing daughter. His gaze rested on the picture of Ellie as a little pig-tailed girl drawing a crayon picture of a pony that he kept on his desk.
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Conrad Ecklie was waiting for Grissom and Catherine upon their return to the lab in Grissom's office.
"Conrad," Grissom said, acknowledging the director of the lab.
"Gil, this case involving D.A. McGregor's daughter and Anthony Towers' son needs to be solved with thoroughness as well as alacrity and I want your whole team investigating." Ecklie was restless as he paced a bit in Grissom's office.
Grissom thought the pressure being brought to bear on the lab's director was no doubt acute from not only the sheriff's level but also from the district attorney's office wanting access to all information yet discretely at this point.
"We're on it, Conrad. I'm already formulating the assignments for my team." Grissom still felt a bit possessive even though he'd gotten his team back together two years ago post Nick's kidnapping after Ecklie initially disbanded it.
"Thanks, Gil, my butt's in the sights of sheriff as well as the DA's office," Ecklie admitted, confirming Grissom's suspicions. He gave Grissom a curt nod and strode out of the office.
Grissom seated himself at his desk and opened the case file on the missing young couple. He began to outline it as well, deciding who would be doing what. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
Father Steven Powell stood quietly in his doorway. Grissom's memory shifted quickly to the past case involving Benjamin Jennings, whose suicide had affected Grissom as he'd desperately tried to get him to implicate his brother who had committed the murders that he was falsely accused of. Grissom would never forget the horrific scene of the frantic efforts to save the young man on the floor of his jail cell who'd torn open both wrists with his own teeth and bled to death. He and Father Powell had also had a series of friendly philosophic conversations thereafter regarding Grissom's nonparticipation as a Catholic amongst other topics.
"Father Powell, please come in. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Grissom asked as he gestured to the chair across from his desk. He rose to shake Father Powell's hand before the priest also sat down.
"Gil, I wish I could I say I was stopping by merely to exchange pleasantries, but the reason for my visit is more urgent than that," Father Powell replied with a hint of sadness.
"Please go on, Father," Grissom urged.
"You're investigating an abandoned car and have in your possession a white envelope bearing the message 'confession is good for the soul' and I am here related to that statement." Father Powell began as Grissom's face manifested surprise. "Yesterday, I received the confession of an individual who made known some disturbing information that I in turn was to convey to the authorities this afternoon. You're the person I felt best qualified to process this information. I was bound to not divulge these details until this time. I also cannot reveal the identity of the person, as you know. The information is regarding a missing young couple."
Grissom was on the phone instantly, calling Brass into his office. Brass strode into Grissom's office moments later, his own expression wide-eyed with questions. He pulled out his pocket notebook to also take down pertinent information before taking a seat beside Father Powell.
"Captain Brass," Father Powell said amiably as he exchanged a quick handshake with Jim.
"Hey, Father Powell, thanks for coming in," Brass said.
"Father, every detail you can provide may be critical to the outcome of finding Taryn McGregor and Jeremy Towers whose disappearance isn't public knowledge yet," Grissom encouraged.
"I was asked to hear the confession of an individual who doesn't attend my church. This person was very nervous and agitated, frequently breaking into tears as the confession was given. The information I was given grieved me considerably to hear. According to this person, Jeremy and Taryn went to a house well-known for drug dealing. Jeremy had come to the front door to purchase cocaine and heroin. Two men who live at this house deal drugs and asked Jeremy to bring Taryn inside. He refused and they drew guns to force his cooperation. They accompanied Jeremy back outside to where Taryn was waiting in a Mercedes Benz. Jeremy and Taryn were forced back into the house at gunpoint. Jeremy attempted to take Taryn and run. The person confessing to me did not elaborate further and gave me this. I kept it as I received it and touched it as little as possible." Father Powell finished as he produced a folded up piece of paper inside a plastic Ziploc bag that he gave to Grissom.
Grissom quickly gloved his hands as he carefully opened up the paper, noting a crudely drawn map and directions in the same scrawled handwriting that had been on the envelope. Brass' cell phone also began to ring insistently.
"Brass. When? Okay. No, I'll update Gil."
"News, Jim?"
"Yeah, the DA's office just got a call from someone claiming to have Jeremy and Taryn. The demand's been made for the immediate resignation of Ian McGregor or delivery of compromising photos of his daughter using drugs will be delivered to the media. The call was traced to a pay phone near where the car was found in Henderson. Blackmail or resign, deal or no daughter," Brass concluded with a heavy sigh.
"This map will contradict that call if it's true. Jim, I'll need that address so I can send Greg to check for prints and any other evidence," Grissom said as he continued to formulate assignments for this case.
Father Powell stood up wearily. "Gil, if I can be of any further assistance, you have my contact numbers."
"Thanks, Father Powell. I know you're bound by clerical privilege and have given us all the information you can but should you think of anything else please don't hesitate to notify me." Grissom stood to shake the priest's hand in farewell.
"Perhaps we can have another philosophical exchange in the near future," Father Powell said in his quiet, serene voice before departing.
After Father Powell had left, Brass stretched out in his chair as Grissom continued to make notes and organize his team to process the car and now phone booth where the call had been made as well as the map that he now possessed.
"Jim, I'm going to copy the map for you so you can proceed with your department's investigation. I'm calling Iris and Nick in for this leg of it as they're the best suited to do this part." The two CSI's did volunteer work for the Sheriff Mounted Posse for search and rescue missions.
"Looks to be making for a long day, Gil, don't it? And tell Iris hey for me," Brass grinned as he cracked his knuckles before taking the map copy from Grissom and heading to his office to coordinate the LVPD's side of the investigation. Grissom smiled slightly as he watched Brass going down the hallway. It had been a surprise to very few people about Jim and Iris going from friends to dating exclusively. The two behaved more like a married couple than two people merely dating for several months.
"Sara, it's Grissom. Look, I need you on-call due to a priority case that's developing. If not, whatever you make for dinner tonight is fine and I'll be home as soon as I can. I love you, too." Grissom said into his cell phone in a low voice.
He ran a hand over his now clean-shaven face and vividly remembered Sara's gentle strokes with the razor over his face and throat as she had shaved off his beard. A smile crossed his face as he recalled her question of if he trusted her and his reply of 'intimately'. Her lips had brushed his after every other stroke of the razor, causing him to feel more aroused with each touch of her hand as it caressed his face or neck. The moment she had finished wiping off his face with the hot towel, he had simply swept her up in his arms as he carried her to bed with the next several hours passing most pleasantly before they fell asleep.
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Iris nearly tripped over a large chew toy on her way to get her cell phone as it rang with the ring tone set for Grissom. Grumbling, she tossed the toy to her bloodhounds as they lay on the tile floor of the kitchen. Their tails thumped the floor in unison as she made it to her phone just before voicemail took over.
"King!"
"Iris, we've got a case developing and your experience as a volunteer with the Sheriff's Mounted Posse team is needed. Nick will be joining you as well." Grissom went on to give her a quick overview of the case and describe the significance of the map Father Powell had given him.
"Okies, boss, just tell me where I need to be with Kyrie and the dogs but I'll also trailer Whiskey in for Nick."
"By the way, Iris, Brass sends his regards and he'll join us at the site."
"Think I can get him on Kyrie this time?"
"Good luck there, Iris, but the closest he gets to riding something is during sports playoffs when he's riding his recliner into the ground with his TV remote," Grissom joked.
"One of these days he's going to have to surprise me," Iris griped but good-naturedly.
"How soon can you meet us there?"
"I can be there within 90 minutes."
"Great, see you there and thanks, Iris."