Chapter II
The Denali pulled up along the yellow crime scene tape. Placing the large vehicle in park, Sara turned off the ignition and unbuckled her seatbelt. She stepped out of the truck, keys in hand, hitting the remote to open up the back. Moving around the truck, she took out her kit, closed the hatch and locked the vehicle. As she ducked under the tape, she could see David already crouching over the body, having beaten her to the scene. Talking to groups of people around the tape was Detective Vartann. Briefly she wondered if Catherine had sent her to the scene with Vartann in order to avoid any conflicts in working with him now that they word had spread of their relationship. Perhaps Catherine had learned from Grissom's and her mistakes or perhaps it was that Catherine was just so much more open, and so much better at playing the game. Perhaps it was just coincidence.
She smiled at David as she approached, taking a moment to wonder at how long he and Vartann had been waiting. Catherine had said that the call had just come in, so David must have headed straight to the scene. Sara bent over beside him. "Hey, David, I didn't expect to see you here before me."
David smiled. "I just got here. I came straight here as soon as I got into the lab. I wanted to clear one scene so I could head to another."
Sara nodded. "What have we got?"
"Multiple stab wounds to the chest and abdomen. She's been dead just under an hour and a half. Paramedics pronounced on arrival."
Sara looked at her watch and couldn't help but notice that her plane had arrived and hour and fifteen minutes before and Grissom still hadn't called her. She shook her head and looked back at David. "That would put her death at around 10:40."
"10:46 to be precise."
Sara nodded. Above and behind her, she could feel Vartann approaching. "Victim's name is Ingrid Polt, twenty-two. Her boyfriend ID-ed the body." Vartann nodded towards a young man, hands and shirt covered in blood, smears running over his cheeks and forehead, hair matted. "Says he went into the store to pick up some water and she stayed outside to have a smoke; got attacked while he was in there."
Sara raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Vartann continued, "sounds pretty flimsy to me too."
Sara eyed the young man from her kneeling position. "The blood on his shirt doesn't look like cast-off."
"How can you tell? The whole shirt is covered in blood. He was bent over the body when paramedics arrived. Maybe the extra blood is covering up the cast-off."
"It's possible."
Vartann gave her a look. "I'm going to keep interviewing the eyes around here."
"Thanks."
He nodded and turned away. Sara turned her attention back to the victim. The girl was tall, thin, had light blonde hair and, from what she could tell, had fair, flawless skin as well. She was dressed fashionably, in a black strapless dress ending just above her knees. A black satin wrap lay next to her.
"Pretty girl," she mused.
"Yeah," David returned.
Sara lifted her camera and began taking stills of the body. Focusing on one point, she snapped a photo and placed her camera down. "David, can I touch the body?"
"Yes. I'm just waiting for you to tell me when I can take her."
Sara smirked. "I'll try not to keep you waiting." Lifting one of the victim's arms, she turned the wrist over, studying the bloody palm and wrist. The victim's hand had a slice running across it. There were several other small abrasions on the hand and arm. "I have defensive wounds here." She lifted her camera and took more photos before placing the camera back down. Her eyes moved to the spot she'd first focused on. She placed her hand on the girl and reached behind her, into her kit. Agile fingers carefully patted tape down on the girl to lift some fibers from the girl's dress.
Her eyes wandered over the victim, her fingers following with more tape. After some time, hairs and fibers removed, Sara sat back on her heals. She sighed. "Okay, I think we're ready. Can you help me roll her?"
David bent down beside her, rolling her body so that Sara could work her fingers over the girls back. Carefully treading over the body, Sara removed more trace and placed her tape-lifts into her kit. While David went to retrieve a stretcher, Sara changed gloves and checked her phone. It had now been over two hours since she'd called him and no return call yet. She sighed, grasping the phone, trying to focus on work and not the pain she felt in the lack of response from him. Where was he? The idea passed and suddenly, she didn't even want to think about it.
David returned and so did her focus. She placed her hands beneath the girl and felt her phone vibrate. Great, she thought, knowing that the likelihood that it was Grissom finally returning her call was large. She couldn't drop the body on David just to retrieve the call. She helped David lift the body onto the gurney, and then, into the coroner's van. Normally she would return with the body, but at the moment, she was the only one working the scene. She would have to catch up with the body later. Removing her gloves, she bagged them and took out her phone.
The call had been from Grissom. It was such a relief to know he'd called. After those two minutes where she let her imagination run irrationally away, the two minutes where she feared she'd lost everything, she was so thankful to see his name on her screen. She so wished she'd been able to answer the call, just wanting to hear his voice. She looked back at the scene and at Vartann, and decided she could take a short break to check her voicemail and return his call. She pressed the code for her voicemail and listened.
"Hi, Sara. I got your call. Sorry, I was…" His voice paused and she took that moment to absorb how strained his voice sounded. "Caught up in something. Thank you for calling me and letting me know you landed safely. Call me again when you get this…please." He paused again and she couldn't help but note how sad and pained he sounded. The next words were quiet. "I love you too."
Sara sighed and closed her eyes. He was caught up in something, forgetting that he'd asked her to call when she got in, or forgetting when her flight landed. Somehow it didn't seem to matter which it was. She thought of his last words, how quiet and wounded they sounded, how they'd matched hers in tone. This was too hard. She pressed down on the send button, calling him back.
The call went straight to voicemail. "Hey," she spoke, trying to make her voice sound light. "We keep missing each other. You've probably headed off to class now, and I'm at my scene, so…I'll try you later." She paused a moment, her voice growing quiet. "Bye."
Snapping her phone shut, she began photographing the rest of the scene. She took in blood spattered pavement, the pool of blood surrounding the space where the victim had been, a small area in the blood pool where the blood seemed thinner, an abandoned package of cigarettes – Vogue Super Slims, one cigarette sticking out slightly above the rest as though someone had been pulling it out, two plastic water bottles, full, lying on the cement, some footprints in blood leading towards alley, towards the store and towards the street, the two paramedics speaking quietly to each other and to Vartann over by the ambulance, the grieving boyfriend who looked convincingly lost as he sat on the curb. Her camera moved over the crowd, taking various stills of the onlookers. Her steps brought her along side the bloody shoe prints leading into the alley. Not far in, the shoe prints faded and disappeared. She sighed, snapping one last photo, and moved back in the direction of the crime scene.
Sara approached Vartann and the two paramedics. "Hey Gary, hey Dale," she spoke, looking at the two medics. "Can you tell me what you saw when you arrived?" she asked, trying to get a more comprehensive idea of the scene.
"Yeah," one spoke, pushing off the back of the ambulance. "We got a call out to a 415, female victim with stab wounds. When we arrived, the victim's boyfriend was over top of the victim, pressing on the wounds. The police pulled him off of her and we tried to work on her, but she'd lost too much blood. We pronounced."
Sara nodded. "When you were working on her, did you step in any blood?"
The two men nodded. "It was hard to avoid. I…uh…also kneeled in the blood pool while trying to revive her."
Sara looked back to the pool and the area where she'd noted the blood was thinner and more matted. The blood must have been drying when the medic had kneeled in it. "Okay," she spoke, removing a large bag from her kit. "I'm going to need your boots."
After the paramedics slipped their boots into the bag, Sara took a moment to look the medics up and down, her eyes landing at the pattern of blood on the knee of the medic who'd kneeled in the blood pool. She smirked. "I'm…uh…going to need your pants, too."
The medic blushed. He nodded to the ambulance. "Can I…?"
Sara laughed. "Yeah."
She watched as the medic climbed into the back of the truck and turned to the other medic. "Was there any weapon around the victim or the victim's boyfriend when you arrived?"
He shook his head. "No. We assessed for danger. There was nothing around."
Sara turned to Vartann. "Did the responding officers remove any weapon?"
Vartann shook his head. "No. He could have dumped the knife."
Sara nodded.
The other medic stepped out of the ambulance in fresh cloths, holding out his blood stained pants. Sara held out a bag for him and watching him drop the pants inside. "Thanks."
He nodded. "So, are we…?"
"For now." She turned to Vartann. "I'm going to talk to the victim's boyfriend, get a shoe lift."
"I'll come with you."
She and Vartann strolled towards the victim's boyfriend. Sara stopped before him and looked down. "Hello, I'm Sara Sidle. I'm with the crime lab."
The young man looked up at her and nodded.
"Can you tell me your name?"
He nodded again. "It's Drew…Bray."
"Drew, can you tell me what happened?"
There was another nod. She watched as the young man took a deep breath. "We were out, walking along the strip. We ended up at the Tropicana and Ingrid was getting tired. We're staying at the Sahara, so I thought we'd take the monorail back up, but we couldn't find the entrance to the station. We circled around the MGM Grand looking for it. I decided to go ask the clerk at the convenience store over there and get us some water at the same time. Ingrid wanted to stay out and have a smoke, so I went in without her."
"You don't smoke?"
He shook his head. "I never thought I'd go out with someone who did either, but on Ingrid, it just seems European and glamorous."
Sara lifted her hand, gesturing it in the air. "Did you hear a scream?"
The young man shook his head. "I didn't hear anything. I came out of the store, and she wasn't there. I looked around for her, and saw her body lying by the alley. She was just lying there, bleeding." His hand came up to his mouth. He seemed to choke on his words. "I…I ran to her, lifted her head into my lap. She was…she was struggling to breathe. I pressed my hands to her wounds. I was yelling for someone to call for help, ran back into the store to ask them to call. Then, I came back and held her again, pressing my hands back on her wounds, just trying to stop the bleeding and I think I began pleading with her. I…I don't remember anything else."
"Okay." Sara nodded. "You're sure you didn't hear a scream?"
"I…no."
"Did you see anybody when you came out?"
He shook his head again. "No."
Sara kneeled down before him, her eyes wandering over his form. "Drew, I'm going to have to take your cloths."
He nodded, lifting his hands to remove the shirt. Sara placed a gloved hand on his arm. "We'll have to do it at the police station."
"Oh, okay."
"For now," she continued, placing a large tape-lift before him, "can you step on this? We need to eliminate your footprints."
She watched Drew stand up and step down on the tape. He shivered before her. It was warm out, but still the middle of the night, and there was a bit of a breeze.
"Were you wearing a jacket tonight?"
Drew Bray looked at her, confused. "Um…yeah, a light one."
"Where is it?"
"I took it off to place on Ingrid's wounds."
"Where is it now?"
She watched him look around. Her eyes followed his. She saw the victim's wrap lying on the ground, but no jacket.
"I don't know," he whispered.
"Can you open your mouth?" she asked, pulling out a swab. His mouth opened and she swabbed it. Placing the swab in her kit, she looked up at Vartann. "I'll finish processing him at the station, just as soon as Greg gets here." She glanced over at the young man and watched as he shivered again.
Sara turned back to Vartann. "I'll work on the scene until Greg gets here. I still have to get to the lab and process the body before Doc Robbins can cut her open."
Vartann nodded. "I guess I'll keep interviewing until you're ready to head into the station."
She smiled. "Thanks."
Turning back to the scene, she tread carefully around it, placing markers and photographing them, lifting footprints and bagging the victim's wrap, the water bottles, and then the carton of cigarettes. Carrying bags of evidence towards her truck, she smiled as Greg approached.
"Hey Sara, good trip back?"
"Long. I came straight here."
"Ouch, no rest for the weary."
"No kidding."
She watched as Greg glanced over at the scene. "What have we got?"
"Female victim, twenty-two years old, stabbed."
"Where do you want me?"
Sara took a deep breath. "Well, I haven't swabbed any of the blood yet, so you can begin with that. I have to process the victim and process the victim's boyfriend. I've processed the rest of the scene, taken stills, footprints, placed markers around blood and trace. I don't have a murder weapon though, our victim's boyfriend is missing a jacket and our victim doesn't have a purse, which is…"
"Unusual."
"Yeah. Can you finish processing the scene, and check the alley and any nearby dumpsters?"
"You thinking killer dumped the weapon?"
"Possibly. No weapon around and if it's the boyfriend, he would have had to have dumped it somewhere. It could also be robbery, or made to look like robbery, and if that's the case,"
"There may be a purse dumped somewhere."
"Yeah. Anyways, I'm going to take in this evidence and log it in, process the body, and then head to the station to process the victim's boyfriend. I'll be in the lab after that."
"Alright. Later."
"Later."
Sara watched him duck under the tape and then she nodded to Vartann. He approached as she placed the remainder of her evidence and her kit in the back of the Denali and closed the door. She turned to him. "I'll text you before I head to the station. It may be awhile."
"Alright."
She moved around the truck, opened the door and sat inside. Her phone came out. It had been an hour and a half since she last tried calling him. His class would be over. She debated whether or not she should try again. Needing to hear his voice, one side won out and she pressed down on a single digit.
