Title: Bright Lights; Dig City
Author: Jayke Manners
Category: Drama / Angst
Spoilers: Only received up to end Season 4 – so pretty much anything up to there…
Disclaimer: Yeah, right – I own them. That's why I'm doing this for nothing instead of being paid the big bucks to have my way… MWAHAHAHAHA. OK, not mine.
Summary: Casefile / Angst / GS
Notes: Ok, my first Fanfic – well I did an X-files one about three years ago during a fit of depression – and now I have insomnia, so I found this place and have been having fun reading you all. Thought I'd have a go. Please review if you want me to continue… not really sure …
Oh yeah – is it just me or is W.P DAMN FINE!!?? Older men, sigh
ONE
The night descended upon the desert, welcoming her secrets and bringing once again its veil of darkness. But this night, in defeat of her efforts, even the black shroud was not enough. The sandy, shadowy underbelly had been exposed – laying bare for the witness of all things, and the secrets she revealed were darker still.
In a circle of light, Sarah and Catherine hunched over the body of a young woman, face down in the dirt – her half-naked torso showing the signs of a day's exposure to the elements.
"Didn't even cover up the body." Sarah remarked. She gazed at the dense shrubbery that spotted the area, at the thick sand that surrounded the compacted dirt where the victim lay. "Wouldn't have been that hard to hide, out here. Either this guy was in a hurry or he wanted the vic to be found." Sara knew it was an assumption to say "guy", but the likelihood of it being otherwise was so remote, she didn't bother to censor her thoughts.
"Or didn't care," Catherine added.
Sara reached a gloved hand into the pocket of the girl's jeans and withdrew a wallet, "It's full of cash," she stated. "Robbery wasn't a motive." She pulled out the ID, noting the laughter in the expression of the girl in the photograph. "Ali Carpenter, 22nd November, 1977." She looked back at Catherine, "Well, he doesn't mind us knowing who she is."
Catherine nodded, eyes squinting as she looked around the scene. Apart from the obvious, something was not right. She didn't like the instant attention this case had caused. The boys who discovered the bodies had called their parents, one of whom contacted the media along with the authorities. The response had been excessive. There were too many cars, too many officers tracking prints across the sand, too many cameras recording their every move. There must be thirty units out here, ruining their evidence. The flashing lights were beginning to bug her. She raised a hand to shield the glare – and, in doing so, noticed a strange silhouette.
"Catherine?" Sarah's eyes followed the gaze of her co-worker, resting on the same object. "What is that?"
Catherine answered by slowly standing and picking her way through the sand. Sara stepped in behind, each footprint a shadow of Catherine's, and raised her torch, "Is that…?"
"A foot." Catherine answered.
The heel and ankle were poking up through the sand, most likely revealing only a small portion of the body that lay beneath. It was no more than ten meters from the first victim. Sarah was about to kneel for a closer look, when she was startled by a shout to their right.
"Hey Catherine, you better come take a look at this!" Catherine glanced warily at Sarah before heading toward the voice. A familiar officer from LVPD was shining his torch on the ground, illuminating what appeared to be part of a scalp and some matted strands of hair.
Sara slowly stood and turned toward the officer, fingers of trepidation crawling on her spine. She looked back at Catherine as another shout rang in their ears, the voice on the verge of shrillness, "Ms Willows! Miss Sidle!"
Catherine didn't step gingerly this time; she marched the few steps and swung her torch, illuminating the face of a young trainee, his pale features reflecting fear. He stared down at his feet, frozen to the spot, his heel planted in the cheekbone of a skull, almost stripped bare and still half buried beneath the sand.
The next shout was Catherine's own. "Alright, everybody freeze! Don't move, stay exactly where you are and search your area." She could hardly believe the words she was about to say. "If you are standing on, or near a body, don't move and raise your torch – everyone else, go dark right now!"
Sarah moved carefully to stand next to Catherine and watched in horror as one by one, unit lights faded, overheads cancelled and all around them, beams of light scanned the area. Some switched off; some darted across the ground and briefly froze, others flicked straight up, a ray of bleakness shining toward the night sky. In a few moments, the area was silent, all movement ceased.
Catherine and Sara gazed at the scene in silent horror. The desert was as still as death, thirteen torches held to the stars.
Sara swallowed and looked at Catherine. Her words came out quietly, almost a whisper. "We better call Grissom."
Catherine didn't reply. Beside them, another torch-light flickered and raised itself to the heavens.
TWO
It had taken over two hours to clear the area, mark the bodies discovered so far and illuminate the scene. Grissom had arrived solemnly, Nick and Warwick close behind. He marched straight to Sara and Catherine, now hovering on the edge of the scene, waiting impatiently. Almost every qualified CSI in the district had been summoned for extraction – and they appeared, only to linger a distance away, awaiting their commands.
The remote glare of police lights flashed ominously as Grissom spoke. "OK, first – we need to clear this scene." He looked at each of them in turn, "We'll do a four grid search, then pan back and repeat it to the North, South and West. Sarah, you take the camera, everyone else, mark everything that hasn't already been counted. Once we've cleared it and posted the no-go areas, we'll get the extraction teams in." He glanced at his people, lingering a fraction longer on Sara than the others. All were professional, ready to work – but each showed a glimmer of their reaction to the gruesome landscape. His own despair, he kept well beneath the surface. "We need to be thorough, but time's wasting. Let's go."
The sweep was arduous, the night-air freezing hands and chilling feet until the last scrap of evidence had been marked and collected. The photographs – images of drag-marks, foot-prints, pieces of material, hair, body parts – repeated in Sara's mind like a silent movie. She swallowed, trying to stem the unease that grew from a place she refused to think about. It didn't belong out here in the desert, with the wind and the moon to carry consequences to the faces surrounding her.
Grissom called in the extraction teams and placed them at each body (they had discovered fifteen in all) but the first. Robbins had been summoned an hour ago and was over with Catherine at what appeared to be the most recent victim. Grissom glanced briefly at the team as they wrapped up bagging the evidence, his gaze once more lingering on Sara. He noted her weary, yet restless stance, seeing for the hundredth time the changes that had appeared over the last few months, knowing this case would only add to the burden she seemed determined to carry. He sighed slightly before walking to Catherine, standing behind her as she spoke with Robbins.
Catherine's voice was weary, "Can we take her back?"
"Yes." Al lurched awkwardly to his feet, pushing up hard on the crutch as it sank into the sand. "It's harder to tell with the others until we get 'em out, but it looks like there's a familiar theme. This one's recent, 20 hours. Beaten around the face and torso, looks like a rape."
Grissom winced, "Cause of death?"
"Initial guess? Strangulation. Probably from bare hands, judging by the bruising. I'll know more when I get her back."
Grissom tilted his head to the side, regarding the victim's face methodically. The swelling and bruising marked her entire face, patches of red, yellow and purple that mingled with the dried blood. Her wrists were bruised also, she'd been restrained, but the ligatures had been removed – there were none in sight. Less evidence. He kneeled closer to the girl, noticing a slice glaring out from her temple. "What's that?" he asked.
"Good question." Robbins answered. "It looks like a mark from a ring or foreign object, whatever it was, it was sharp enough to break the skin and strong enough to leave a clear indentation in the bone. I'll check it out and let you know." He turned and gazed ahead with a small grunt of annoyance, then began the long trek back to his Tahoe. All the cars had been ordered to remain half a mile from the scene; his was closer, but not close enough. "I'll catch you at the lab."
Catherine shook her head. "This guy's one nasty piece of work. He did a real job on her." She looked at the scene around them, dotted with markers and teams slowly revealing the ravaged bodies from the earth. "On all of them."
Grissom regarded her, "You ok?"
Catherine nodded, angry. "We've gotta get this guy."
Grissom looked down at the girl lying below. She had been attractive, once. Her dark brown hair was now matted with blood, her clear jaw-line swollen and bruised. But she had been lovely. He thought of the bodies around him and knew that lives depended on how quickly they followed the trail, how fast they could process the evidence and track this psycho down. Whoever did this was no ordinary killer.
He was a monster.
Grissom's jaw clenched in a flash of fury. She had been lovely…
"Hey."
Grissom actually flinched as Sara's voice sounded beside him and for a moment he was speechless – ever since Lurie he too often saw Sara lying in a pool of blood, her eyes like glass, staring toward demons. It could so easily be her, stretched out in the desert with sand in her hair…
"I've finished with the films," she told him. "Nick's just going to bring the car over. You want me to head back and start processing?"
Grissom found his voice and nodded. "Take the other truck, Catherine and I will be here a while yet. And make sure Greg gets the evidence before days arrive." He hesitated, "Tell everyone to get some rest, I want you all fresh for tomorrow."
Sara bobbed her head in acknowledgement. Almost as an afterthought, she glanced down and looked at the body, for the first time appearing in the dawn's growing light. The victim had been turned over, hollow eyes staring blankly toward the north. Fear - and something Grissom didn't recognise - flickered through Sara's eyes as she gazed down for what seemed an eternity, the feeling of dread that had touched at her last night now hitting like a punch to the stomach. Unwillingly, Sara took a step back.
To anyone else, the action might have seemed like nothing at all, a small shifting of weight, a minor overbalance. But Grissom, Grissom who noticed everything, saw it - and wondered. "Sara?"
Sara's head snapped up and in that moment, her eyes returned to normal, her gaze met his with practised, even coolness. When she spoke, the voice was calm, steady. "I'll get back to the lab."
"Sara?" Grissom asked, warned.
But she was already backing away. With a quick glance at Catherine and small shake of her head, Sara smiled and dismissed him. "I'll get some rest, promise." She turned on her heel and began the long march back to the vehicles, her own over a mile in the distance.
Catherine pulled her gaze from the figure back to Grissom, "What was that?"
But Grissom didn't answer, watching in silence as Sara started to run, and run.
