Chapter 2
Gil Grissom was sitting on the couch in his living room. In his hands he held a leather-bound book with no words printed on the cover. It was his favorite book and not just because some of it was about him.
He had received the book at Christmas from Alex. He and Alex had stopped for lunch before they got on their way to L.A. when she gave it to him. He paused for a moment to remember.
"I…I wanted to give you this while it was just us," Alex said, sliding a small wrapped package towards him.
He took the package. "Thank you." He placed it on the seat next to him.
"I was kinda hoping you'd open it now," she told him.
"Oh, ok," he replied, picking it back up. He carefully unwrapped it to find the book. At first he thought it was a journal for him to write in, because there were no markings on the cover.
"Look inside," she urged him, a smile starting to creep across her lips.
He opened the cover and on the first page he saw the inscription: For my father, from my mother, Love Alex. He looked up at his daughter. "Is this…?"
She nodded enthusiastically. "It's mom's writing. I had it professionally printed."
Gil was truly touched. "Thank you," he wasn't sure what else to say.
The smile had completely taken over her face. "It's the only piece of my mother I can give you."
Gil looked up from the pages that he was leafing through. "You're the greatest piece of your mother you could ever give me."
She started to tear up. It was the most thoughtful thing he'd ever said to her. "Thank you," it was barely above a whisper.
Gil knew he would never forget the look in her eyes that day. The look that told him he was more than just a scientist, more than just a name on a report. He was a father, loved unconditionally by his daughter.
The rest of their trip had gone well too. When they finally arrived in L.A., Gil's mother, Francis Grissom, was especially pleased to meet her granddaughter. She hugged Alex tightly after they had gotten through the door.
Francis hadn't known what to expect. She had been interested in meeting her granddaughter since Gil first mentioned her. Francis didn't really remember Olivia, but Gil swore to her that they met at least once. When Alex walked through the door, she almost cried to see her son's progeny.
"It's so nice to meet you," Alex spoke as she signed.
"It's nice to meet you," Francis responded.
Gil looked at Alex and asked, "When did you learn to sign?"
She smiled. "I've been practicing," she responded and signed.
Francis smiled too. She knew it was going to be an interesting Christmas.
And it was. The trio had a wonderful time getting to know one another as a family. Alex was glad not to be alone in the world again. Francis was glad she had a beautiful granddaughter. And Gil was glad everything came off well.
Gil's only regret about Christmas was the price Alex had to pay. He hadn't learned until they got back to Las Vegas that their trip had been the cause of an argument between her and Nick. Gil felt somewhat to blame because he hadn't taken Alex to meet Francis before. Ultimately, he knew they were adults and their decisions were their own.
He flipped through a few more pages, looking for one of his favorite poems. Then his cell phone rang. He answered it without looking at the caller ID.
"Grissom," he picked it up.
"Hey Gil, it's Alex," she responded.
"How're you?" he asked.
"I'm alright, but I'm not calling about me," she answered.
"Nick?" he had figured she would call about the day's events.
"What happened today?" Alex questioned.
Gil paused for a moment trying to decide whether or not he should tell her. Then replied, "I think Nick needs to tell you in his own time."
"Why did I not realize that is what you were going to tell me," she rhetorically asked, a little frustrated. "At least tell me how worried I should be about him."
"He'll live," was Gil's only response.
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A couple days later, Grissom pulled up to the crime scene. A police officer that had been missing for a few days was found in an alley. Nick had been called and was already there.
As Grissom got out, he noticed the body was sitting propped up against the wall. The officer was still in uniform, which happened to be spotless. In place of his hat, though, was a cone-shaped party hat. Also in some of the folds of his shirt was some confetti.
"What's the story?" Grissom asked Nick.
"The officer's throat has been slit, but it's obvious the alley was not the site of the death," Nick replied, bringing Grissom's attention to the lack of blood at the scene.
"Any other marks on the body?" Grissom questioned.
"There's ligature marks on the wrists and ankles, so he was obviously held captive somewhere. No other marks are apparent," Nick informed him. "So David will probably have to tell us when he does the autopsy."
"What's with the party favors?"
"At this point, your guess is as good as mine," Nick answered, collecting some of the confetti for trace.
Grissom only shrugged and then got to work collecting evidence. He had a feeling this was going to be a very interesting case.