CSI: Crime Scene Investigators
Numinous Event
By A. Rhea King
"Can someone put me up for a couple days?" Nick asked.
It interrupted the lunch chatter and everyone looked at him. He smiled.
"Please?"
Nick glanced at Warrick the Hallucination when he walked in and sat down in a chair in the corner.
"Why? What's wrong with your place?" Hodges asked.
"Have to spray for termites. They need three days."
"Again? I thought you sprayed last month," Mandy said.
"No. It was last year."
"Are you sure?"
"It was last month. I remember because you slept in the break room and at The Wall," Greg said, smiling.
"No. That was last month," Warrick argued. "And you think cockroaches are leaving the cabinet doors open, and making all the noises you keep hearing. When in reality—"
Doesn't matter." Nick balled a paper towel and threw it at Greg. "Can I stay with you?"
"No."
"Talk him into it. Come one, buddy," Warrick encouraged Nick. "The more, the merrier here."
"It's just for—"
"My cousin is coming out for a week."
"I'll take the couch."
"That's where his friend is crashing."
"Hodges?"
"I'm at mother's until the end of the month. I'm sure she—"
"OH HELL NO!" Warrick told Nick. "She's nice and all, but the woman won't shut up and let you sleep. Besides, the place just isn't right. We need something else. Next?"
"What happened to your place?" Wendy asked.
"Something to do with selling and buying and all the tenants were evicted. We have to go to court next week to get our deposit and rent back. But I'll ask her if you can—"
"You had better say no, Nick," Warrick told him.
"No. Thanks anyway," Nick told Hodges.
"Well, I guess I can—"
Warrick suddenly appeared at Nick's arm, his face in his. "No. No hotel, motel, or any of the above. A person. I said you had to stay with a person. From here. Keep asking."
Nick hesitated.
"Keep asking!" Warrick ordered.
Before Nick could speak again, Catherine offered. "You can have the hide away at my place, Nick."
"That'll do." Warrick had returned to his chair in the corner. He reached up and tried to play with a piece of paper. His finger passed through it and he sneered at the paper. Suddenly he stood and mimed taking it off, folding it into a paper airplane, and shooting it at Hodges. "Score!"
"Thanks." Nick looked down fast to keep from laughing.
But Catherine caught it. She changed the subject. "So where are we on all the cases?" Catherine said.
"We're eating lunch, Catherine," Hodges told her.
Warrick walked over and leaned over him. "No cheese. Tell him he can't whine, Nick."
Nick's humor vanished when he noticed Hodges lean forward, away from Warrick. An untrained eye would have missed the light shiver that ran through him. Nick looked up at Warrick. His hallucination met eyes and smiled.
"Lunch was over five minutes ago. Where are we on all the cases?" Nick said, ripping his attention back to the people at the table.
Mandy offered up her findings first.
#
"Catherine, wake him up."
The voice startled her awake. Her eyes snapped open. She held her breath and listened.
She heard talking in the living room, but there was no movement in her bedroom. She realized it was Nick she was hearing talking. She guessed he was on the phone with someone.
Catherine closed her eyes, wishing she could sleep a little longer. Her eyes drifted up to her alarm clock. It was about to go off. She reached out and flicked it off, waited for the two minutes left to pass and turned it back on. Following a long yawn, she got up and sat for a minute on the side of her bed, staring at the dark floor under her feet.
Catherine got up and started the water for a shower. The warm water woke her right away and she took her time to soak it in. She dressed and stepped out of her bedroom into the hall.
She stopped there.
There weren't any lights on but she could hear Nick talking. Was he sitting in the dark?
"Nick?" Catherine called.
There was no reply, but he didn't stop talking. Now that she was listening, she realized the conversation sounded strange. Like he was drugged and trying to talk. She hurried into the living room and flicked on a light. She stopped, staring at him. He was asleep and talking.
Catherine smiled, almost laughed. "Talking in your sleep. Never would have guessed that, Nicky."
She headed into the kitchen to start supper. She didn't think about being quiet and letting him sleep, but it didn't matter. Nick slept through it. She went back to the couch. The cat had found him and was curled up against his chest, softly purring. It was almost seven; he should have been up by now. Catherine remembered the voice in her dream telling her to wake him up. Maybe he'd forgotten to set the alarm on his phone.
"Nick," she called.
"That doesn't make sense," he muttered.
"Nick."
He didn't wake up.
"I didn't find an insurance policy on her. The one I did find was cancelled last year. It wasn't for the money."
Catherine shook her head. "You aren't supposed to work on cases in your sleep, Nick." She reached for his arm.
Catherine froze when the pillow next to him moved and the shape of a handprint. She smiled, shook her head a little, and leaned in further to grab Nick's arm.
Nick's hair moved, and then the mattress on the opposite side moved. The cat leapt to its feet, hissing at something directly across from Catherine.
"Where you going?" Nick asked.
Catherine held her breath. She heard footsteps. They were soft, like someone who was barefoot walking across the carpet. The cat stopped hissing, turned a few times, and laid back down next to Nick.
That woke him. He looked at the cat, then up at Catherine.
"What's are doing, Catherine?"
She stood up straight and stepped back.
"Supper will be done in a half hour. I don't think your alarm was set."
"Oh…" Nick rolled over, grabbing his phone. He opened it and frowned. "Dead. Thanks for waking me."
"No problem." Catherine turned and headed back to the kitchen.
"Are you okay? You sound strange."
"I'm fine."
Behind her Nick looked down at the cat. "You believe that, Mosley?"
Mosley meowed.
#
Nick carried a dish of warmed green beans and instant potatoes to the table and sat them down. Catherine added a plate of baked pork chops and a pitcher of tea.
The two sat down.
"Smells good. I'll cook tomorrow. Feel guilty letting you do it two nights in a row."
Catherine didn't reply. Nick watched her as she filled her plate.
"Where's Lindsey tonight?"
In a curt voice she answered, "She had to work on a project tonight. She's staying with my mother."
"Is there something wrong? You've been acting weird since I woke up."
She sat her plate down, staring at it.
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk in your sleep?"
"No. Was I?"
She didn't answer.
"Was I talking in my sleep?"
"I… I don't know. It was really weird."
"Weird how?"
"It was like… Do you dream of Warrick?"
Nick shrugged. He started filling his plate. "Sometimes I dream about things we did, but they're always really twisted. I think that's just the way dreams are, though. You can't take them seriously."
"So you do see the hallucination in your dreams?"
"No. I meant the real Warrick." Nick stopped moving, looking at her. "Was I talking like I was talking to him in my sleep?"
She slowly nodded.
Nick sat his plate down. "Great. Now he's in my dreams and I don't know about it." Nick looked across the kitchen at the counter. "Shad'up."
Catherine went cold. She looked in the direction then back at Nick. He was eating as if nothing was out of place. But it was. It was very out of place. Catherine was certain of what she had seen.
"How do you know he's a hallucination?"
Nick slowly looked up at her. He swallowed the bite in his mouth.
"What?"
"How do you know the Warrick you see is a hallucination?"
Nick sat back in his chair, staring at her. "Because he's dead, Catherine. The real Warrick is dead. You were there."
"I mean…" Catherine smiled. She shook her head and picked up her fork, stabbing into her beans. "Never mind."
"If you're trying to say something, say it."
She sighed, looking at him. "I don't know, Nick. It was probably nothing. The living room was dark, you were talking in your sleep, I was just imaging things. Forget I brought it up."
"What was nothing?"
"Eat your supper."
"Catherine, please don't—"
"Nothing, Nick. It was nothing."
Nick glanced at the counter. He looked back at her. She was watching her plate as she ate. Nick heaved a sigh and began eating again.
#
Nick jogged to catch up to Catherine. She was navigating the familiar lab halls by memory as she read a file.
"Is that your vic or suspect?" Nick asked.
"Not sure. He's missing but there was blood in his car that patrol found. He had a lot of debt though and a huge insurance policy. His wife doesn't seem too heartbroken he's gone."
"Family values at their best."
She smiled. The two turned into her office and she sat down at her desk. Nick sat a stack of files down on her desk.
"These are finished and need your signature. Then I can shuffle them off to the D.A.'s office."
"Okay. You haven't gotten too far behind, have you?"
"No. I'm good." Nick turned and walked the door, shutting it.
Catherine watched him. He came back to the desk.
"I can't get that conversation at supper out of my head, Catherine."
"Why's that?"
"What did I say in my sleep that has you so upset? Was it bad? Did I say something bad?"
"Should you have?"
"I don't know. When he's around, I can't seem to shut up sometimes. And if I'm asleep and talking to him, then I sure as hell have no control over what I say. What did I say? Tell me. Please just tell me."
"So you're saying I'm a bad influence?" Warrick asked as he walked past to the couch. He stretched out the full length of the couch, but nothing moved to hint he was there.
Yet Nick couldn't take his eyes off him. He was having doubt, and with his mental state, he knew that was bad.
Catherine sat the file down. "It was nothing, Nick. Don't stress about it."
"Catherine, please. Just—"
"It was what I saw."
Nick sat on the arm of a chair, focusing on her now.
"Saw? What did I do?"
"It wasn't you. I distinctly remember I woke up before my alarm because I thought I heard someone say I had to wake you up. When I came in to wake you I saw – or I thought I saw – a handprint on the pillow next to you. Then Mosley hissed at something and the mattress moved like someone was getting off or on. I heard footsteps walking away and you asked 'where are you going?'" Catherine smiled. "But it was dark, I wasn't really awake. I'm sure it was nothing, just my mind playing tricks on me."
Warrick laughed and suddenly appeared sitting in the chair next to Nick. He was staring hard at Nick. "That's interesting. Don't you find that interesting, Nicky? Doesn't it make you want to investigate it?"
Nick looked at the chair next to him and narrowed his eyes. He stood and turned.
"Come on, Nicky! Investigate me. Check out her claim. Let's do some science here!" Warrick goaded.
"I'll see you at your place later. I'm meeting someone for breakfast," Nick told Catherine.
"What did he say?"
Nick turned. "What?"
"What did Warrick just say?"
"I thought the rule was—"
"Break it this once. What did he say?"
"It doesn't make much sense." Nick reached for the door handle.
"Do I have to beg?"
Nick laughed, looking back at her. "He said that was interesting. I have no idea what he's talking about. See you later."
Catherine watched him leave. She knew what she saw, but she didn't want to press Nick and she didn't want anyone knowing she believed in ghosts.
#
Catherine sat straight up when the living room radio suddenly started blaring. She jumped out of bed and ran into the living room, meeting Lindsey there. Nick was sitting up in bed, staring at the radio. He looked back at her.
"I didn't touch it," he told them
Lindsey walked over and shut it off. She walked past Catherine, motioning toward her room with her eyes.
"I swear I didn't touch it," Nick promised.
"Go back to sleep," Catherine said.
She went into Lindsey's room, finding her daughter sitting on her bed.
"When's he leaving?" Lindsey asked.
"Tonight's the last night. Why?"
"He talks in his sleep, mom. He sometimes goes over details of cases and it's really gross. And Tuesday, when I was in there looking for a CD, I thought I heard someone tell me where it was. I turned around and he was the only one there, but he was sleeping. He wasn't even talking then. The CD was right where the voice said. Mom… with all the dead people you guys deal with… I know you'll think I'm crazy, but I think there's a ghost with him."
"Lindsey, I told you Nick sees an imaginary person because of his head injury last year."
"This isn't an imaginary person, and an imaginary person didn't tell me where the CD was, mom."
Catherine smiled. She brushed Lindsey's hair out of her eyes and kissed her forehead.
"He's going home after today. It'll be fine."
"He sure attracts a lot of trouble."
"Why do you say that?"
"You always tell me about things that happen to him – well, some. He seems to attract trouble without doing anything."
Catherine chuckled. "We tease him about that all the time, honey. I'm going to bed for a few more hours. Remember to order the pizza at six thirty."
Lindsey nodded.
Catherine kissed her daughter's head and went back to her room.
#
In the living room Nick listened to their conversation. He heard Catherine return to her bedroom.
Nick looked up at Warrick sitting in the chair across from him. He was smiling.
"Are you and hallucination?"
He continued smiling.
"Or something else?"
No answer. Just a smile.
"Why would you tell me you're a hallucination of you aren't one?"
"I never said I was a hallucination." Warrick got up and walked over, leaning over Nick. "You said I was." Warrick disappeared.
Nick was starting to feel crazy again.
#
Nick let out a sigh as he finished typing up one report. He hit control S and watched the line cross the bottom of the application, saving it.
To himself he said, "One report down, twenty thousand more to go."
Across the room Greg chuckled. "I hear ya."
"Thank God it's a—"
"Don't you dare say it. Do not say it."
Nick smiled. He loved taunting Greg with his superstitions.
"Quiet night?" Warrick asked, appearing in the chair before Nick's desk.
Nick glanced at him, but didn't respond.
"Nick," Catherine said as she came into the room.
He looked up. She was holding a call sheet.
"Grab your jacket; we're going to the desert." She looked at the ticket. "Two ATV riders found a car on fire, body inside."
Nick stood and turned to grab his jacket and vest from the coat stand behind his desk.
"Nick Stokes."
Nick turned. Ecklie and District Attorney Lawrence Jefferies were standing beside Catherine. Ecklie didn't look upset, but Jefferies did. He threw a twelve, eight by ten photographs on the desk.
"What the hell is this shit?" Jefferies demanded, pointing at the photographs.
Nick picked them up, thumbed through them. He didn't see anything wrong with them – other than he was in all of them. He knew the case they were from too. Sara had partnered with him that night. She must have taken the photographs.
"I'm sorry, Larry. I don't see anything wrong with them. What's the problem?"
Ecklie started to answer, but Larry was doing fine on his own. He yanked the photographs from Nick and slapped one on the desk. He pointed to a camera flare just over Nick's left shoulder.
"Here. See this?"
"Yeah."
He slapped the next eleven, pointing to the camera flare in each of them, always over Nick's left shoulder.
"It is in every single one of them."
"All the photographs?" Nick asked, picking up the photographs. "Hm, maybe Sara's camera—"
"No. Only ones that you're in. Anything with just evidence or CSI Grissom in, they aren't. Just yours. What were you wearing that night?"
Nick looked up at him. "Wearing?"
"Can you explain it? Can you tell me why it's in the ones that you're present in?"
"No, sir, I cannot. I'll ask CSI Grissom to have her equipment checked, make sure it's working properly. We took seventy-two photos of that crime scene. But I doubt the jury will care about a camera flare."
"Oh, they'll care. That's how I lost the last one I used photos that had a camera flare when you were in them." Jefferies snatched the photos away. "You have idiots working for you, Conrad!" On his way out Jefferies added, "Damned idiots!"
The room was silent for a few minutes.
"Well. That was refreshing," Warrick commented.
Nick knew he was somewhere behind him, out of sight, but he didn't turn. Now was not the time to entertain his hallucination.
"Ecklie, I'm sorry," Nick said. "I don't know what happened on those. I—"
"Nothing is wrong with Sara's equipment," Ecklie told him. "I already had it sent out to be cleaned and tested. And we have seen this flare in a lot of photographs you're in. I can't explain it anymore than you can."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Don't let anyone take photographs with you in them if you can help it. Otherwise, they'll just have to do. If Jefferies lost the case because of a camera flare, that's his own fault. Have a good night, guys."
Catherine smiled and nodded when he turned toward her, watching him leave. She looked back at her boys and almost laughed.
"Conrad's in a good mood," Greg said. "He never defends us like that."
"He just has a soft spot for Nick, that's all."
"I'm the one he rips on the most," Nick reminded her.
"Tough love. That's all."
"That sounds gay."
She laughed. "Meet me in the garage, Nick. We gotta go."
Catherine walked out and Nick turned to grab his coat and vest. He turned to leave when the radio on his desk suddenly turned on. He froze, staring at it.
The digital display raced through numbers, coming to a stop at one. The DJ was just finishing speaking as the first notes of a song began playing. Then the lyrics started.
Nick's mouth went dry. His hands reactively gripped his coat and vest into tight fists. He knew that song. He'd heard it recently.
He couldn't pull out of his trance until the radio shut off. Then he noticed Greg was standing behind it, and he still had his finger on the power button.
"You're white," Greg said.
"What?"
"That song came on and you went white. Are you okay?"
Nick stared at him.
"Nick. Are you okay?"
Nick swallowed, looking down at the radio. Was he? He couldn't think suddenly. Why had his radio done that? Why had it stopped on that song? The feeling of going crazy was creeping up on him again.
"Warrick," Nick whispered.
"What about him?"
Nick turned and left.
#
Nick found Catherine in the garage loading her Escalade. He helped her and then climbed in the passenger seat. He didn't look at her when she opened the driver side door and stared at him for a few seconds. She climbed in, pulled out, and headed west.
"Usually I have to fight you to drive," Catherine said. "Are you feeling okay?"
He didn't answer.
"Ahhhhh the seeds of doubt," Warrick said from the darkness of the back seat. "Lovely things, aren't they?"
Nick clamped his teeth together and looked out the window.
"Nothing like a road trip to the desert," Catherine said. "Do we need to stop for anything before we get out of town? It's two hours out."
Nick didn't answer. She glanced at him.
"I bet it was nice to sleep in your own bed, huh?"
Nick nodded.
"Talk to her about all the crazy shit that's been happening," Warrick urged. "You want to. You'll be surprised how much she gets it."
Nick made a face. Clenched his fists. Catherine noticed the reaction and decided to stop trying to having a conversation with him. Maybe he was mad at her.
The silent drive gave both driver and passenger time to think. They arrived at a burned out car with a charred corpse, both still smoldering. A coroner was working with the fire department to remove the body so the two began working the area. Once the car was clear they wrapped it in plastic and sent it back to the lab, staying behind to make sure nothing had been overlooked or missed. They loaded the Escalade again and Catherine drove them back to Las Vegas.
"What if you're not wrong?" Nick suddenly asked.
She tried to think about something that would have prompted that question, but she was at a loss.
"I'm not following."
"What if he's not a hallucination?"
She realized he was talking about their conversation of Warrick the hallucination.
"Nick, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry I said it at all."
"When the radio suddenly came on that next day, the song on it was Burn Us Alive. I recognized it, Catherine. It was by these two rappers Warrick said hardly anyone knew. I actually like the song, and I wasn't big on his music to begin with, so I remembered it. Right before we left the radio on my desk came on by itself and was playing the song again. And then there's this call... This person burned in a car. And I just know Robbins or David will tell us that the victim was burned alive."
"Your office radio came on by itself?"
Nick nodded.
"If you want to believe what I said, Nick, you also have to believe in ghosts. Do you?"
"She's right, Nick my boy," Warrick commented. "So? Do you believe in ghosts?"
Nick resisted looking back at him. "No. Maybe. I don't know."
She didn't reply. He thought about the question for a few minutes.
"Let's say I did, or want to, how would we prove one way or the other? I mean, I'm still the only on that can see him. You didn't actually see him that night. You just saw a handprint that I could have left. You thought you heard footsteps but you don't know for sure. And the bed may or may not have moved. And Mosely hisses at the plant blowing from the air conditioner. He's not exactly a reliable ghost detector."
Catherine thought about this for half a mile.
"You can stay over a couple nights and we'll record you sleeping for a couple nights. He seems to be pretty active when you're awake, so we can go over any video we have of crime scenes and see if anything sticks out."
"I don't think Lindsey would be too keen on the idea of me staying. Maybe we should set it up at my place."
"She won't mind."
"I heard her talking to you after the radio came on."
"Oh." Catherine was a little embarrassed he had, but it made this easier on her. "Has anything like these two radio incidents happened before you started seeing Warrick?"
"No. Never."
"And after?"
"Not until a month after that whole thing with Patricia and Jeff Katrick."
"Tell me what's been happening."
"When I'm not holding my camera or touching it in any way, sometimes it takes pictures on its own. I've changed cameras five times and it still happens. I've had my truck radio come on a couple times or the station suddenly changes. Sometimes I'll come home and the television will be on, but I'm sure I turned it off. All these things strangely end up relating to a case I'm working at the time. The photos almost always end up being evidence I overlooked. I've been passing it off as coincidence. But tonight I've been thinking about all those times, Catherine. What if there was no coincidence?"
"What if he's doing it?"
"He can't be. I don't see him when those things happen."
"Not seeing the entity and having stuff happen – yeah, I'm sure that's never happened during a haunting," Warrick commented.
Nick heard the sarcasm, but he wasn't in the mood to even acknowledge Warrick.
"Has it gotten worse since it started happening?" she asked.
"It's sporadic. But you know… It always seems to happen when I can't seem to…"
"To what?"
"To pin down a suspect. That's a little too coincidental, isn't it?"
"Liaaaar. Liaaaaaaar," Warrick sung from the backseat. "Nick's a big fat liar."
Nick gritted his teeth. He wanted to yell shut up at the hallucination, but he knew Catherine would get after him if he did.
"Could be," Catherine answered. "This Friday and Saturday Lindsey's going to a friend's house. Let's do this at my place. You have expectations at your place. Scientifically speaking, it's not the best place to do it."
"I have expectations at your place."
"Fine. Your place. But I'm not sleeping on your couch. You are."
Nick smiled. "Okay. Your place. I just thought about having Archie put together a tape of any video that's been caught with me in it," he told her.
Catherine told him, "Ask him to pull stills too. There might be something in them."
"You mean like a camera flare off something I'm wearing?" Nick sarcastically replied.
She laughed. "No. There must have been something in the dark we didn't see. Do we have a plan?"
"We have a plan."
She reached over and patted his hand. "You know we're going to find nothing, right, Nick? This is just to ease your mind."
"Uh-huh," Warrick commented.
"Right."
"And just think, if you'd stayed with anyone else when your house was being sprayed for cockroaches that make footstep sounds and open cupboards and turn on televisions, this conversation wouldn't be happening at all. Huh?" Warrick asked.
That put a cold stone in Nick's stomach. He never told anyone why he was really having the house sprayed, but it was hard to keep a secret from his annoying, invisible pain in the ass.
"You believe in ghosts, don't you?" Nick asked Catherine.
She smiled. "I believe that science can't explain everything that happens in the world. Not the really good stuff, anyway."
The stone left and Nick laughed. "I like that. I might steal that for my next school presentation."
"We share at our lab. Feel free."
Nick smiled.
#
Nick felt tired and rushed. His Sunday off had disappeared into a triple homicide, a car driving into a Jack in the Box, a dump behind a casino, two prostitutes stabbed to death in an alley (likely by each other), a drive by shooting, and a bank robbery gone wrong. He and Greg were loading the Denali with evidence bags and kits from the drive by.
"You drive," Nick told Greg, walking around to the passenger side.
They climbed in and Nick started working on the mountain of paperwork that had quickly piled up through the night. He glanced down when Warrick leaned in between the seats. The hallucination grinned at him. Nick ignored him.
"After we drop off the evidence, I need to stop at Archie's," Nick told Greg.
"Why?" Greg asked.
"Cuz I'm your supervisor and you will do my bidding, slave."
Greg laughed, but didn't argue. Mandy and Wendy were waiting for them at the front of the lab. After quickly signing everything off to them, the men jumped back in and Greg headed toward Archie's. As they stopped outside Archie's building, Nick snatched two videotapes from the backpack at his feet and got out.
"Don't leave me," Nick told Greg.
"I'll think about it," Greg teased. "After all, you did call me in on my day off and made me cancel a third date. I owe you."
"I can't believe you made him give up a night of sex for this. That's just evil," Warrick commented. "What kinda supervisor are you?"
Nick just laughed and shut the door on them. He jogged to the stairs and up to the third floor. Down the hall he stopped at apartment 315 and knocked. It took him four times before Archie finally opened it. And Archie's appearance surprised him. He hadn't shaven for at least a day. He was wearing boxers and sleeveless shirt, with his unwashed hair sticking up in every direction. He didn't look anything like the well kept audio video specialist Nick was used to seeing. Perhaps a week of vacation did that to people. Nick would have to try it the next time he had vacation – sometime when he was dead, maybe.
"I'm on vacation. I am not coming into work," Archie told him.
"Great. I'm not here for that." Nick handed him the tapes. "These are part of my side project. Can you go through them and let me know if you find anything strange?"
"Can you be more specific about what I'm looking for? And why am I looking at video and photographs of just you at crime scenes?"
Nick laughed. "I already told you I don't know what you're looking for. Just pretend its evidence on a case and keep an eye out. I doubt you'll find anything. And I'll bring your beer and pizza by tomorrow before work. Thanks for doing this on your vacation." Nick turned to leave.
"There is something in the videos and photographs. But I have a feeling your pulling a prank on me. Are you?"
Nick turned back. "No. What have you found?"
"Are you sure? I mean, it's okay. I'm not mad or anything. I don't know how you pulled it off, it's pretty genuine, but if you are, I want to know the secret." Archie laughed. It was one of those laughs that vented fear or nervousness or discomfort or all three. The kind you do when you can't think of anything else.
Nick walked back to him. "Archie, what did you find?"
"Come on, Nick! This has to be a hoax. There is no way this is real. And I have to say, you've got more talent than I do to pull this off and hide it from me. I haven't been able to find any proof that the photographs or videos are altered or special effects were used. It's really good Nick. What's your secret?"
"Archie, I haven't touched the videos or the photographs. What you've got are all originals from crime scenes. Taken with our equipment on the day they say they are. What have you found?"
Archie looked at the tapes. "I don't know. I'll let you know if I figure it out."
Nick was about to launch an interrogation when his phone rang. It was Greg. He had to put this conversation on hold and get going.
He flipped it open, saying, "Stokes."
"Hurry up!" Greg ordered. "Catherine's calling for us on the radio. She gave us two more scenes."
"Okay. I'm heading down." Nick hung up. "We'll talk later, okay?"
Archie nodded.
Nick jogged back to the Denali and hopped in.
"Did you stop for a beer?" Greg jabbed as he started driving.
"No. An appetizer."
"And you didn't bring me any? I'm starving."
Nick smiled, glancing back. "We'll stop for cake."
Greg groaned and then shot him a glare. "Warrick's back there, isn't he? Great. Not only am I starving and exhausted and wishing I was in bed with my woman, I have to put up with my supervisor and his crazy hallucination who is obsessed with cake. Great. Just great."
"He wouldn't have it any other way," Warrick said, leaning between the seats. "And after all those thoughts you were having at that drive by shooting. All those wishes going through your head. You'd do that to him? Your friend who cares enough to give up sex to come to work when you asked him to? You know that's why he agreed. Not because he's a good employee, because you're his friend and you asked. How could you think like that? Why don't you tell him about it? Let's see if he finds it amusing."
Nick's smile melted. He picked up the clipboard with the paperwork.
"Stop complaining," Nick ordered.
Greg glanced at him a couple times. "What I say?"
"Nothing."
"I must of said something, because—"
"You didn't say anything. Give it a rest!"
"Nick, you just pulled your Jekyll and Hyde on me. You only do that when someone says something you don't want to hear."
Nick scrubbed his fingers over his brow. "I'm just exhausted. You really didn't say anything, Greg. You know, I could use some food too. Let's swing through McDonalds on the way."
Warrick leaned toward Nick. Nick moved toward the door.
"Just exhausted? If that's all it is, I'm alive and breathing," Warrick told him.
Nick ignored him.
#
Nick knelt to photograph a piece of metal. The inside of the bank was a mess. Blood covered everything. The gunman had a rifle and the shells had exploded against the marble floor and windows. It was a tricky crime scene and difficult to catalog since there was so much of it. He barely noticed morning had come outside.
"Are you almost done?" Greg asked from across the bank.
"Not even close. I'll be another hour. Go on ahead. I'll have an officer take me back to the lab."
"This is interesting," Warrick said.
Nick glanced up at him. He was sitting on the counter of a teller window, looking at something beside him.
"What's that?" Nick whispered.
"APR of 2.4 percent for twenty days. Does that even sound like a viable promotion?"
Nick smiled. He whispered, "No. Guess that's what pissed this guy off."
Warrick chuckled.
Nick's phone started ringing. He slipped the strap of his camera over his head and laid it against his chest, then answered the phone.
"Stokes."
"I want all these photographs, all these videos, gone, Nick. I want them out of my apartment now!" Archie sounded more freaked out than most murder witnesses.
"What's going on? Did something happen?"
"This is fucked up! What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Archie, calm down. What are you talking about?"
"These tapes you gave me. The ones of you sleeping. These are messed up, Nick. The first time I watched them I was like, whatever. What I'm seeing here, that's not real. I processed them both, trying to find where you punked me, but I couldn't find anything. So then I worked on the audio because I heard someone whispering in the background. I figured it was someone helping you make these and I was going to get you back. But the voice.... I can't find any proof these are fakes and I want all of this gone! GONE! You probably think I'm overreacting or something, but I'm not. I've watched the worst horror movies that are out there. You name it, I've watched it. Nothing, nothing, Nick, has freaked me out like this shit that you brought me. And I want it gone. I want it out of my apartment now. Right now!"
Nick looked at Warrick. He was smiling.
"Calm down, Archie. I want to see what's on those tapes. Can you hold onto them until Wednesday? Just don't watch them or anything, okay?"
Archie didn't answer.
"Archie."
"He's dead, Nick."
Nick glance around him to make sure no one was nearby to hear him ask, "You heard Warrick?"
"Yeah. I know his voice. I know that voice, Nick."
"Just relax, man. It's gonna be okay. Just don't watch them again."
"This hallucination you're seeing of him... That's what this is, isn't it? That's what I'm seeing on these things, isn't it? But... It's a glow. Sort of human shaped, but not really. It looks like a camera flare that's sort of shaped like a human. And it's in everything! Is that what he looks like to you?"
Nick looked at Warrick. "No. I see Warrick."
"This is fucked up, Nick!" Archie sounded like he was crying.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd find anything. I really thought this was just a wild goose chase."
"Then why'd you tape yourself sleeping? Why'd you ask me to look over the crime scene photos and video with you in it?"
"I can't talk about it now, Archie. I'm at a crime scene."
Archie let out an audible breath. "Wednesday?"
"Yeah."
"And this will all be gone when you leave? You're taking it with you? All of it?"
"Yeah."
Archie heaved a sigh. "Okay. Wednesday."
"I'm sorry this freaked you out. I didn't mean for it to."
There was no answer.
Nick looked at his phone face. Archie had already hung up. Nick slowly closed his phone and put it back in the holster. He glanced back, and then looked at Warrick.
"What are you?" Nick asked him.
Warrick just smiled.
#
Archie sat on the couch with his leg bouncing as he waited. He'd been waiting for hours. Today it was finally going to be gone. He couldn't be happier.
Someone knocked on his door.
Archie got up and threw it open. But no one was there. He stepped into the door, looking both ways. He started to close it when he heard Catherine's voice. She and Nick were talking about a victim burned alive in his car. They came up the stairs and headed toward him. The conversation dropped off when they saw Archie.
"A little anxious?" Nick asked, smiling.
"Someone knocked on my door. Did anyone pass you going down?"
"Nope." Nick stopped.
"Are you feeling better?" Catherine asked.
Archie looked away. He'd called in sick for two days because he wanted to go over the video again and again. It was a strange attraction. Every time he watched it his skin crawled, his hair stood up on end, and he felt a little nauseous. Yet he couldn't keep himself from it.
"I will," Archie stepped back to let them in.
"You will?" she asked as she walked past with Nick.
Archie closed the door and led them back to the first bedroom. The room had computers and large wide screen monitors on desks around it. There were wires running along the top of the walls and hidden behind desks. It almost duplicated to his workstation at the lab, except the equipment was a little newer, better kept up, and used often for games. He went to a computer and woke it up with a jiggle of the mouse. He sat down.
"Grab some chairs. I didn't know you were coming, Catherine."
"This was kind of my idea. Nick said you found something."
Archie pulled up photographs. "It's not common to get crime photos with a CSI in them since the photographs are supposed to be of the evidence. I had to dig to find ones of Nick over the last year. Strange, though…" Archie trailed off.
"What's strange?" Catherine asked.
"The frequency of finding Nick in photographs has increased in the last four months. He's in a lot of them lately. Before that, he was hardly in any. That's how I found what I did, though."
Catherine looked at Nick. "Any ideas about that?"
Nick shook his head. "I never really noticed."
"Jefferies sure did. He was back in Ecklie's office last night about more photographs with camera flares."
"They. Aren't. Camera flares," Archie corrected her.
That silenced the CSI.
The images stopped opening. In the first one Nick was crouching and writing on a piece of paper he held against his leg. Archie pointed to what looked like a light over Nick's left shoulder.
"See this light here?"
"That's the camera flare Jefferies is so ticked off about," Catherine answered.
"See how it's bright here at the top and seems to trail down, almost looks human around the edges but it's really blurry? In other words, looks nothing like a camera flare."
"Yeah," Catherine and Nick answered.
"Watch the so-called camera flare."
Archie went through a hundred and forty-two photographs, pointing to the light that was always over Nick's left shoulder, regardless of location, time of day, or what he was doing. And in one hundred and twenty-seven photographs, there was no rational explanation or source that could have caused the light to look exactly the same. Archie closed the image viewer after the last one. He waited in silence while the two took it in.
"Those weren't all taken with the same camera, were they?" Catherine asked.
Nick shook his head. "I can remember almost every one of those crime scenes, Catherine. You were even at some, you know that answer. There is no way every single camera in the department could have the exact same flaw. And at every crime scene? Day or night?"
"Are you sure the images weren't changed or altered?" Catherine asked Archie.
"Yeah." Archie nodded. "But that's not the freaky shit. From here on in, it gets freakier."
Archie pulled five video files into Windows Media Player, and the first started playing on its own. It was a wrecked car that had been found with a woman and two children in it, and no driver. Archie was recording the scene; Catherine and Nick were working it. With movement, the glow took on life. It was always over Nick's left shoulder. When he moved, it moved. Sometimes facial features blurred across where the head would be. Sometimes it almost faded out but came back as soon as Nick moved. As he came in contact with people at the scene, it would sometimes come between him and a person. There could be no argument that the glowing form was organic. Archie fast forwarded it to a spot and stopped it. He pointed at the light.
"Watch this."
The video played at normal speed. The light zipped away from Nick to a spot near the car. At the same time Nick turned, as if responding to someone. The light hovered near the door. It looked like a part of it separated as if it was motioning or pointing at the door. Nick walked over and opened the door. His expression read 'jack pot.' The light returned to just over his left shoulder.
"The panel was loose," Nick quietly commented.
Catherine nodded. "I remember. You found drugs in there. It was a mule car."
Archie fast-forwarded to almost the end. Nick walked over to Catherine to talk to her. The light moved behind her and Nick was having a hard time keeping a straight face. He said something to Catherine and she turned, hiding her smile.
"I remember that. You told me a joke that Warrick had just told you," Catherine said.
Nick nodded. He remembered it too.
"These clips rarely have audio I can hear, since they're supposed to be of the crime scene and not the investigators."
Archie went through the next four and the light behaved in similar ways. Despite trying to be discreet, it was obvious Nick was interacting with it. Every so often it led him to something, but usually it just followed.
In the last video, he followed it to a ceiling tile in an office. Nick called for a ladder. He climbed up and removed a ceiling tile, and began unloading a cache of stolen wallets and cash. These were the items their suspect was accused of stealing and later led to the man's arrest.
Archie stared at the screen when it stopped.
Catherine looked at Nick. His eyes were glued to the screen.
"He's not a hallucination, Nick," she said.
Nick looked at her. A tear escaped and he whisked it away with his hand. He stood.
"I'll be right back."
The two watched him leave the room and heard a door shut. Archie closed the Media Player and brought up another program where he had several video boxes. He brought in two files and changed the settings so the two took up the screen.
"Does it get worse?" Catherine asked.
They heard Nick vomiting.
"Yeah," Archie said.
"Maybe we shouldn't watch it."
Archie looked at his hands. "I didn't come to work because I wasn't sure how to handle being around people, Catherine. I mean… What is this? Is this really Warrick? Or is it something that just looks like him? I don't get it. I thought this thing was benign."
"I haven't seen anything that says it's not."
"You haven't seen the next two videos."
"Something happens?"
"Yes."
The vomiting stopped. The toilet flushed. Water started running. The two were silent until Nick returned. He was a little pale. A thin layer of perspiration coated his face and arms. His hands were lightly shaking.
"Okay," Nick said.
"Maybe we shouldn't," Catherine said.
"I have to see what happened this weekened. I have to know what this thing did." Nick slowly looked back, glaring at empty space behind him.
"He's here?" Catherine asked.
Archie spun his chair around. "He's here!?"
Nick nodded.
Archie stood, looking around the room.
"It's okay. He's just sitting. He hasn't spoken to me since I woke up this afternoon. He seems amused by all this."
"This isn't right, Nick. You don't know what this thing is," Archie told him.
"Show me the video."
"No. Not if this thing is here."
"Archie. The video. Please."
Archie and Nick stared at each other for a minute. Archie sat down and turned back around. He started the first video. Catherine had turned on the time stamp and it began counting the seconds. One camera watched Nick from the foot of the hide-a-bed; the other was at an angle that could see part of the kitchen door and front door.
"Nothing happens for most of the day," Archie told them. He fast forwarded to three in the afternoon and let it play again. "Watch here." Archie pointed at a spot by the kitchen where a tall indoor palm plant sat.
Both cameras catch the plant stirring as if a breeze had just blown past. Soft footsteps cross the room. The mattress moves slightly and the glowing form appears near Nick.
"Hey," Nick mutters in his sleep.
The response is barely above a whisper, but the voice is Warrick's. "Hey yourself."
"Did you get cake?" Nick smiles. His speech is slurred and languid.
"Naw. I'll get it eventually."
Catherine shook her head. "Ghosts don't talk like that."
"How do you know? How many ghosts have you talked to?" Nick demanded.
The on camera conversation didn't continue for almost a half hour. Archie fast-forwarded to a part where Nick turned in his sleep. He resumed normal play.
"I'm off," the voice says.
"Stay."
"Naw. I think we got enough evidence for you. I'll come back later. You sleep."
"You're going to sleep?"
The disembodied voice and Nick laugh quietly.
"Dead people don't sleep."
"I'm dead. I'm sleeping."
"Not like me. I beat you to the punch on that one."
Nick smiles.
"See you in a few hours. And don't forget what I told you yesterday," Warrick tells him.
Together they recite, "Check the brake line before Catherine leaves for work today." Nick breaks off. "Check. Done."
"Okay."
Footsteps retreat. The plant moves.
In the distances they hear the voice say, "Catherine has cake!"
Nick chuckles.
He sleeps soundly for another two hours until his and Catherine's alarms went off. The video ends.
All three felt chilled.
Catherine suddenly pulled her phone off her belt and dialed a number. "Greg. I had Archie doing some work for me at his place and we're going over it now. Nick, Archie, and I will be late tonight. Has it been pretty quiet? Okay. I don't know. Hold down the fort until we get in. Thanks." She hung up. "The next video, Archie."
He brought up both camera angles. "There are three conversations in this one."
Archie fast-forwarded to the first conversation.
The mattress moves like someone sit down and the glowing shape appears over Nick.
"I was thinking," Warrick's disembodied voice begins. "What if the mother didn't do it?"
"Has no alibi," Nick says in his sleep.
"I know. But I was just in her cell. If she's as cold blooded as you suspect, do you really think she'd be crying this much?"
"Still crying?"
"Horrible. The woman is a mess."
"Just guilt."
"You really think so? Don't close the case, Nick. Really look at the evidence first. I don't think it was her."
"Is that you or some divine thing saying that? Divine beings or hallucinations aren't credible witnesses.
Laughter. It echoes slightly. A creepy, horror movie laugh. "Good point. I'll go dig around. See what I can find. Maybe I can find you a good lead."
"Yeah. Do my work, slave."
"I was never and still ain't your slave, Nicky."
"I was joking."
"Bad form, man. Bad form."
The bed moves again.
Archie fast-forwarded past three hours and played it again.
The bed moves. It's returned.
"Look really close at the husband," Warrick tells Nick. "Matter of fact, might want Brass to pick him up as soon as you get up. He was getting his passport just now."
"Fleeing? You call."
"Really? Cuz I don't think Jim's going to listen to a ghost."
"Text him."
"Good. Do it."
In his sleep Nick sits up. He picks up his phone. He opens it. He starts tapping the keys.
"Back seven. You spelled it f-l-e-a-ing. There ya go. Good. Send. Wait! Wait. Let's not text that to Brad. Down one more. There. Okay. Send. It's going."
Nick put his phone down and lays back down.
"Something to be said about doing work in your sleep," the voice says.
"I'm super CSI."
Creepy laughter.
"And I'm living and breathing."
"That joke is old. Stop it."
"Hm. I'll go think of another one. I'll come back to wake you up. You forgot, again, to set your alarm. What the hell am I going to do with you?"
"Throw me in a gunny sack and in the river."
"Jeff and Patricia tried that. You floated."
Nick slowly laughs. It sounds forced. It sounds empty. It sounds fake.
The mattress moves and the footsteps leave.
Archie fast-forwarded to twenty after six. Sometime during it the camera on the doors stopped. On the other, a battery icon appeared and at this speed, it quickly began to diminish. It was flashing in red when Archie went back to normal speed.
The footsteps return. Mosley is sleeping with Nick.
"Nick," says the voice.
The light appears next to the bed Nick. Mosley jumps up, arches his back, and hisses.
"Scat, cat," the voice orders.
Mosley bolts.
"Hm?"
"Nick, wake up."
"Mm-mm."
"Nick, wake up, man. Ya gotta go to work. Catch bad guys. It'll be fun."
"You're sick."
"I'm dead. Dead people have a sick sense of humor. Come on, man. Wake up. The power went out. You gotta wake up Catherine."
"No."
"If you do not get your ass out of this bed now, I'm going to flip the mattress. Then you'll really have something to freak Archie out with."
"Why would that freak Archie out?"
"Trust me. It will. Get up."
"You're mean."
"I know. Get up."
Nick's eyes slowly open. Then he turns his head and looks up.
"Do you have any idea how creepy it is to wake up and see your hallucination first thing in the morning?" Nick asks.
Creepy laughter. "At least you're not having a coyote ugly morning."
"Ooo. Good call. Good call."
Nick reaches for his phone and the video stops.
"We did lose power that day," Catherine said. "And my brake line was leaking when Nick checked it. And how did he know you'd give this to Archie?"
"I'm still trying to wrap my head around texting Brass in my sleep. I was baffled when I came in and he told me the husband was waiting for me to interview him."
"Didn't the man say he kill his kids?"
"Yeah. I was surprised how fast I got it. It was like he was scared of me or something. I'd never even seen him before that day."
"I think you two are missing the bigger picture here!" Archie interrupted. He turned his chair so he could face them. "Warrick is on those videos and photographs. Or something of him is. Your hallucination is a ghost, Nick. A ghost! A dead man is haunting you, Nick. Do you get that? Do you have any idea how fucked up this whole thing is?"
Any other day Nick would have jumped back at Archie. But today, in light of evidence he was not alone and never had been he could only focus on what the lab tech said.
Nick turned, looking at a desk behind him. "Why didn't you just tell me you weren't a hallucination?"
Warrick smiled. "You never asked."
"I'm asking now."
"I'm not a hallucination."
"Why are you here?"
"You need me."
Nick exploded. "I do not need you." He stood up, storming up to the desk Warrick sat on. "I never did."
"In the tunnels, you were still pretty out of it, still handcuffed. You asked for someone to help you. You wouldn't remember it. But I do."
"And where were you before then?"
Warrick looked down. He looked like he was far away with his memory. "I don't know. I can't remember. I just remember feeling… Disconnected." Warrick looked up at him. "There was nothing tangible, no feelings. I could remember my life, but it was like time just wasn't moving wherever I was."
"I don't believe in ghosts and I don't believe in you."
"Too bad. It doesn't change the fact I'm here and I'm staying until you're ready to let me leave."
"I've been ready for over a year!"
Warrick stood up. "You haven't been ready for even a week, Nick. You haven't told them or Greta about the nights you wake up in cold sweats. How about how terrified you are to go into basements? Or that you run after suspects because secretly you're hoping, wishing, praying for them to kill you so you won't have to live with the nightmares anymore. How about..." Warrick stepped close to Nick, getting in his face. "You tell them about all those times I've talked you out of pulling the trigger with the gun against your head, or putting the pills back in the bottle, or stepping off the chair and not putting the noose around your neck, or bandaging up your wrists after you cut them. Have you told anyone about that?" Warrick pointed a finger at Nick's forehead. "You are not ready, man, and until you are, I can't leave. You need me here. And you think I want to stay? Hell no! I want to see my parents and my grandma. But until you really let yourself be fixed, Nick, I won't go. No one else knows how fucked up you are. No one knows how scared you are all the time, and how angry it makes you. No one knows you need someone to protect you from you! No one but the dead guy, and, Nicky, that there is really twisted and wrong beyond words."
The following silence was heavy.
"I want to move on. If you ever cared about our friendship, if you really want me gone, you have to let someone help you. Really help you."
Nick looked down, and then at Archie and Catherine.
"Destroy all the video from our thing. Don't keep copies of anything. I'll put the tapes back tonight," Nick told Archie.
He turned to do as he was told.
"Nick, what's going on?" Catherine asked. "What did he say?"
"The truth."
"About what?"
"Doesn't matter, Catherine. I'm the reason this is happening. I have to fix it."
"How?"
Nick walked over to her. "Why don't you go on to work? We'll be right behind after we take care of everything."
"You acted like this when you gave up on me at your house, when I told you that you were being committed."
"I'm okay. Really. I just have to work some things out and fix this."
Catherine sighed. "He really is here, isn't he?"
"For now."
She stood, looking him in the eye. "I hope you know what your doing. I'll see you two at work."
Catherine left and Nick sat down again. Archie started deleting files as soon as she left the room. He handed the two tapes to Nick. He snapped them in half and pulled the tape out, breaking it as he did. Archie watched.
"That was really freaky, Nick."
"I know." Nick looked up. "Imagine being the one who's been living with it for over a year."
"Is he here forever?"
"I hope not."
Archie nodded. "Me too. The dead should never be compelled to stay with the living. That's just not right."
Nick looked at Warrick. He'd sat back down again.
"I agree," Nick replied, "but I think I know how to fix this one."
"How's that?"
"Talk more with my therapist."
"You're going to tell her he's a ghost and not an hallucination? I don't think—"
Nick and Warrick both laughed. "No!"
Nick shook his head. "You can't tell anyone what you saw either."
"I wouldn't want to, Nick. This really has scared the hell out of me."
Nick nodded.
Four Months Later
The numbers on Nick's alarm clock glowed blue, telling the sleeping owner that it was now two in the afternoon.
In the living room a board creaked, followed by several more and soft footsteps. A glow came through the door and stopped over to the bed. The mattress sank as something with mass sat down.
"Hey," Nick said in his sleep.
Warrick smiled. "I'm outta here for good."
"Where you going?"
"I don't know. I don't think the place has a name."
"Still need you."
"You're gonna be fine. I have it on good authority you will be."
"Divine?"
"Maybe. Fight the good fight."
"Yep."
"You're a good friend."
"Ditto."
Warrick smiled. "Catch'ya later."
The light vanished.
Nick jerked awake. He listened for footsteps he'd become accustomed to hearing. He waited for laughter or a voice that only he could hear.
But all he heard was silence.
Nick sat up. "Warrick?"
His dead friend never answered again.