Chapter One
Yolanda sat in the large, overstuffed chair, her face pale and her eyes red from crying. She looked up at the two women before her. "He was still alive when I left here yesterday," she said suppressing her tears once again. "I can't believe he is gone. He was so kind to me." her hands covered her face as she shrank into the cushions.
"Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt him?" Detective Vega asked as he saw Sara Sidle enter the penthouse apartment and start walking toward him.
"No, I don't." Yolanda shook her head. "He knew many people, important people, and politicians. I have seen them on TV and in magazines."
"Thank you Ma'am, we will be in touch if we have any more questions for you," Vega told her and turned to Sara. "Hey Sara," she said as the maid that had discovered the dead body lying on the bed of the master bedroom walked away.
"We got a male DB in the bedroom. He was stabbed multiple times in his chest and abdomen. We're still waiting for the coroner to get here," Vega shook his head as he walked toward the master bedroom. "I can't place it, but he looks familiar for some reason."
Sara followed the detective. "I think after a while a lot of bodies begin to look familiar." Never would she have imagined the image that appeared before her, the body of a man, not just familiar, but someone she knew well. Feeling suddenly dizzy Sara had to lean against the wall, next to the bed. "It's... Greg." she could barely speak.
"Sara, are you alright?" Vega asked glancing from the body to the CSI. She looked very pale leaning against the wall. He noted her inability to tear her eyes away from the body. "Shit," he cursed as he stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the victim. "Sara, how do you know him? The maid said his name was Shawn Gregory, talk to me Sidle."
"I don't know." Sara felt like she was going to be sick. "But this is Greg Sanders, our lab tech."
"Sanders," Vega repeated turning back toward the body. "Shit," he said as he suddenly realized where he had seen the young man before. "Come on," Vega said taking Sara's arm and leading her out of the bedroom and guiding her to sit on the couch in the living area. She did not argue and sat on the couch. She was in shock, he realized as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Gil Grissom's number.
"Grissom here." The CSI supervisor answered while he continued with his meal.
"Grissom, it's Vega, we have a problem with the 4-19 at the pent house that you assigned to Sara," the detective sighed wondering how he was going to explain to Grissom that one of his own was dead.
"What kind of problem?" His senses were alert. "Do you need me to get out there?"
"Yes, I think you will want to come personally, and you're going to have to bring another CSI to process the scene. Sara knows the vic, she's in a state of shock right now." Vega closed his eyes hating what he had to say next. "That's not all, Grissom. You know him too. Sara said it was your lab tech, Greg Sanders."
"Shit." Grissom cursed. "I'll be there in a few," he didn't wait for Vega's reply and walked swiftly down the hall in search of Nick.
Nick hummed the tune of a Country song he had heard on the radio before coming to work, as he searched through the contents of his victim's trashcan for evidence useful to his case. He had watched the most amazing basketball game before work, and felt like he was on top of the world despite his current task.
"Nick." Grissom stood in the doorway. "I need you to come with me," he looked at his CSI, dressed in a long smock and rubber gloves.
"Grissom," Nick looked up in surprise. "I'm in the middle of a case. Is there a problem?" But even without the older man's answer he could see that something was wrong in the man's eyes and began removing the smock.
"Yes." Grissom said and waved Nick outside. "I'll explain on the way over."
Nick had never seen that expression in Grissom's eyes before; it looked almost like sadness. It scared Nick more than anything had ever scared him before. He followed his boss out of the layout room without another word. He knew the older man would tell him what was going on, and he did not want to push the issue because he suddenly had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he was not going to like whatever Grissom would tell him.
Grissom settled behind the wheel of the Tahoe. Not sure how to say this he started slowly. "Vega called me. A body has been found in a penthouse," he paused to let the traffic go.
Oh god, Nick's mind screamed, "Sara's 4-19, is she… did something happen..." he paused unable to finish a sentence as he stared at his supervisor's face praying that he did not confirm his fears.
"No, it's not Sara... its Greg." Grissom cringed. Murder was bad enough but to find one of his own was a bit too much.
"What? No, Greg's in Miami, man. There must be some mistake," Nick shook his head. Although he knew it couldn't be true, he discovered that his hands were shaking in his lap as they drove down the Vegas streets. "I spoke to Greg a couple of hours ago, before he left to go to the airport. Man are you sure Sara isn't trying to play some trick on us? That's it isn't it, this is just a trick, a bad trick, right," Nick pleaded.
"I don't know Nick; I do hope it is a mistake," Grissom looked grim as he raced down the streets.
Grissom and Nick had remained silent the rest of the way to the crime scene each lost in their own thoughts about the young lab technician. As soon as they reached the scene Nick practically leapt from the car before Grissom had even turned the engine off and ran inside the hotel room. He was eager to prove to himself that it was all a mistake, a terrible mistake. But when he entered the penthouse ignoring Grissom's yells for him to slow down, and saw Sara sitting on the couch with tears streaming down her cheeks, looking like she was lost he stopped. He was suddenly unsure if he really wanted to see the body after all. When Grissom finally entered the penthouse Nick barely noticed the man bump into him as he entered. Nick just stared at Sara, feeling suddenly like he was unable to move. "Sara," he said finally still standing by the door.
"Nick." she looked up with tear streaked cheeks. "I... He... Oh god."
Grissom entered the living room and when he saw Sara's state all of his fears were confirmed. "Stay here with Sara, I am going in."
Nick nodded dully, but even that simple action felt difficult to pull off as he watched his supervisor enter the other room. All he could do was pray that Sara was wrong. It was someone who looked like Greg, he rationalized, but it wasn't Greg. Greg was in Miami, soaking up the sun with his friends from college; he had to be. "Sara, you were wrong, that… that's not Greg in there. Greg's in Florida," he whispered.
Sara shook her head. "I wish."
"Hello detective." Grissom didn't need to take another look at the body. As bizarre as the setting was there was no doubt he was looking at his dead lab tech. "This is worse than I thought."
"Grissom, I'm sorry," Vega said. "The coroner should be here any minute now." He hated informing strangers of the loss of a loved one, it was ten times worse to inform a friend. As he watched the CSI stare at the body lost in thought, Detective Jim Brass suddenly barreled into the room. He had called Brass after calling Grissom; he knew Brass would have been more familiar with the victim since he had once been the CSI supervisor.
"Damn," Brass muttered as he looked at the body still lying on the bed. "Gil, I thought he went on vacation?"
"I thought so too and what in hell's name is he doing in this get up and penthouse?" Grissom's glare wandered around the ostentatious furnishing and colors. "I don't know what to make of this. I have two of my people in shock out there and a dead lab tech in here, who I thought was going on vacation. This is fucked up."
"We'll figure out who did this to him," Vega assured them as a meager voice from the doorway interrupted their conversation.
"Grissom," Nick spoke. He had finally found the strength to move. When Sara refused to admit to him it was a joke, and Grissom had not immediately come back out looking relieved he realized that it could be true. That realization brought with it a heart wrenching decision that he had to see for himself if he was truly going to believe any of them.
"Nick, get back into the living room, please." Grissom gently moved him back. "Go and take Sara home and you might as well take the rest of the shift off. I will stay here and finish up." he laid his hand on Sara's shoulder shocked by the looks of her.
"No," Nick began to fight Grissom, pushing forward toward the bedroom again. "I have to see him," he yelled. "I have to see for myself, I can't accept it other wise."
"Go home." Grissom took hold of Nick's shoulders, squeezing them tight. "You don't need to see him right now." his voice was low and calm as if he was talking to a child.
"Grissom, he's my friend. I need to see for myself. I need to see him, Grissom you must understand," he pleaded as the Dave Phillips the assistant Coroner entered the room a gurney trailing behind him. "Please, Grissom I need to see him, be… before they take him."
"Go ahead Dave," Grissom said grimly. "I am coming with you."
"Nick, do me a favor and don't look at him now. Do you think this is easy for me?"
"I have to see him for myself. I don't want to see him lying on a slab in the morgue, please man; I need to see for myself that it is really him. Please don't make me do it at the morgue," he had to fight back the tears that threatened to slide down his cheeks as he spoke to his boss.
"Ok, go in." Grissom gave up seeing the reasoning. Nick had a right to see his dead friend.
Nick hurried into the room pushing passed Dave in his rush to see his friend and find anything that would prove it was not really his friend. Upon seeing the body on the bed though, he felt as if his world was ripped apart. He could feel his heart begin to race rapidly in his chest as he stared at his friend's lifeless body. The tears that he had fought so desperately to hide were now streaming down his cheeks one after the other. Unable to stay on his feet anymore Nick found himself slowly dropping to his knees unable to take his eyes off of the sight before him.
His friend Greg Sanders lay on the bed. His eyes were open, but they saw nothing. A sob hitched in his throat as he realized the younger man would never see anything with those eyes again. Blood covered Greg's extravagant clothing and had soaked into the mattress of the king sized bed. He could see the multiple stab wounds which had caused all the blood. "Why," he muttered. "Greg, what did you get your self into?" He studied Greg's body looking for any sign that this was a mistake. Greg's hair was different than it had been yesterday, instead of the ends died blonde and extending upward in all kinds of crazy spikes, it was darker more like it was two years ago. It was also cut shorter. If it had been anyone else Nick would have took it as a sign it was not his friend, but Greg sometimes had changed his hairstyle several times in one week so the change was not surprising. Even the freckles on Greg's right cheek were there, right where they should have been.
"Damn it, Greg. I just got tickets to see a game next month I was going to take you. There's so much we still have left to do, so much you wanted to do. You wanted to be a CSI, you told me that once or twice. How could you let this happen?" He suddenly became aware of Grissom calling his name and he took a deep breath and stood up. As he stood up still looking at Greg's body, he noticed it, the discrepancy that he needed. "Grissom," Nick finally turned to look at his supervisor. "His eyes," he said.
"I know." Grissom was unable to look at the body any longer and taking his jacket off he covered as much of Greg as possible. "I will do anything possible..." he left the rest unsaid. Anything possible of what? That this was not Greg after all but someone who happened to look like him? He shook his head and looked at Nick with sad eyes. "Please Nick; you need to get out of here."
"No, Grissom look at his eyes," Nick demanded raising his voice, "that is not Greg. Greg's eyes are brown, this… this guy's eyes are green."
Dave Phillips leaned over the body to finish his preliminary exam. "Gil." he said into the sudden silence. "These are contacts."
"What?" Nick asked. All the hope that had risen a moment ago plummeted back down with a sickening crash that left him feeling ill. There were no arguments left; it was true. Greg Sanders was dead. "I need to go," he said numbly as he slowly turned and walked out of the room to get Sara.
"Dave, take him out of here please." Grissom turned to follow Nick.
"Nick... you saw him too," Sara stood up feeling wobbly.
Nick took Sara's arm into his hand to steady her, he could feel her trembling beneath his fingers, or was that his fingers trembling. He shook his head to clear it. "He's gone," Nick whispered. "I just spoke with him this morning before he was supposed to leave for the airport. I can't believe he's gone. Damn it, why didn't he get on that plane?" He led her toward the door wondering where he found the strength to walk let alone lead her.
"I spoke to him too," she croaked. Why hadn't she been nicer to him? But instead she had let out her emotions on him? And now she would never be able to speak to him again, to apologize, to hear his off beat jokes ever again.
"Come on, I will take you home," Nick told her as they walked out of the door.
"Thank you Nick," Sara's feet moved automatically.
To be continued...