Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to CSI.
A/N: This is a case file story that contains mature material (not smut, just mature, including nasty language and sexual/violent situations). It is a multi-chapter fic (30+ chapters). There is a little GSR, but it is suggested throughout. Lots of Brass/Grissom and Catherine/Grissom friendships.
Chapter 1
The several photos strewn on the light table of the evidence room of the Las Vegas Crime Lab dominated the attentions of both Catherine Willows and Gil Grissom. The images captured the lifeless bodies of three young women, looking worn, used and forgotten, with their throats slashed.
The first body had been found two weeks ago behind a dumpster of a Chinese take-out off the Strip. Authorities discovered a second body in Henderson seven days ago. And yesterday the third body was found in the woods behind a suburban park. None of the dump sites had any obvious connections. But this was Catherine's case, and she was sure all three women deaths were related. By all estimates, the women were prostitutes, but according to Dr. Robbins' estimates, their ages ran from 15 to 17.
It is difficult for some law enforcement officers to have sympathy for women who are used for sex (even if it is against their will, which is sometimes a fact forgotten), but Catherine thought of these women as victims. Young victims, at that. They deserved justice.
"Have you asked vice about them?" Grissom inquired.
"I haven't been able to find anyone in vice who has seen them," Catherine said. "Fingerprints haven't yielded any priors or identified any of these girls."
"Do you have any evidence they are related?" Grissom asked. "Markings, hotel paraphernalia, anything?"
"No. 3 has a tattoo on the back of her neck," Catherine said as she pointed to the photo of the third Jane Doe, whose hair was so short and face so young, she could have passed for a teenage boy. "It seems fresh. It looks like a cross on fire."
"Some pimps brand their girls with a tattoo or a marking or some type of distinction to let other pimps know who she belongs too," Grissom grabbed two photos that revealed Jane Doe No. 1 and No. 2. Each had hair that went past their shoulders. "Maybe you should shave the others' heads to see if the marking is there. They could have been branded a while ago. The tattoo might be hidden by the hair that has grown there."
Catherine lit up a bit. "That's a good idea. If they all have the same marking, there has to be a way to trace it to a pimp. If vice can't help, it might be worth asking other women on the street. They might know more."
"Do you need help on from anyone on this?"
"Do not offer yourself, Gil. This is the first conversation we've had in a week that didn't end with me being pissed with you. Let's not break the magic," she said sarcastically.
Grissom looked at her nonplussed. "I was going to offer Greg."
"Grissom, he's working on four different cases. I'm good for now. I'll let you know." After gathering the evidence on the table, Catherine quickly went to the morgue.
--
Grissom left the evidence room to make his way to the garage. While Catherine's major case involved the murdered women, he, Nick and Warrick were knee deep in a quadruple murder of four young men, two of which were the sons of a state representative. Pressure mounted the minute the bodies had been found three days ago. At first blush, it seemed to be a drug-related hit, which did not bode well for the representative.
From the other side, the suspect's father — the owner of a major food chain in southern and central Nevada — also instigated pressure through his influence. The D.A. was pushing for evidence to bring to the grand jury as soon as possible before the suspect's lawyer would throw too many roadblocks.
Nick, Warrick and Grissom had worked several shifts in a row already, and all three were showing their wear and tear in various ways. Processing the bodies took much time, as did the crime scene where they found the bodies. Despite hours spent at the scene, nothing probative could be found.
Interviews with friends of those murdered yielded little information. And leads from anonymous tips were a waste of time. While they had a suspect in mind, the lack of progress stymied and frustrated the criminologists.
But when the police said they found the suspect's car, they all found a renewed sense of purpose. It could be the break in the case for the trio. Grissom went to the scene where the car was found to process the area, and Nick and Warrick waited for the car to be sent to the garage, eager to take it apart.
Grissom returned to the lab and visited with Catherine before heading to the garage. As he arrived there, Nick was leaving. He had an evidence bag in his hand and took 15 minutes to talk to Grissom about the progress. While Grissom found a gun at the scene, he quickly deflated Nick's enthusiastic look by stating it was not the same caliber as used on the victims. But Grissom did get prints off of the gun and Bobby should still check ballistics.
Warrick and Nick did find some pieces of evidence in the car. Nick seemed certain that pieces of the puzzle were slowing falling into place.
"I'm telling you Grissom, I think this car is the key; we'll be able to get something probative, if we continue," Nick seemed optimistic, but his anxiety and frustration showed. Grissom was sure Warrick was on edge, as well. "I need to get this to DNA, but I really got to get a break, boss. Give me a half hour?"
"That's fine, Nick. I'm going back in. Keep your phone handy."
"Will do."
When Grissom entered Warrick was standing at the far corner with his back to the door. He screamed into his cellular. "Why the fuck do I even try with you, Tina! You want me out of your life? It's going to happen if you do this!"
Not realizing he was no longer alone, Warrick cursed loudly and threw his phone across the garage. Cursing again, at himself, Warrick seemed to be shaking as he paced. He found Grissom standing there.
"You need to calm down Warrick. Why don't you take a walk," Grissom said, grabbing a tool to help process the car.
"You know Griss, I don't think taking a walk is going to just make this go away," Warrick's voice was full of venom. He wanted to pick a fight.
"No, Warrick, but it will help," Grissom said in a controlled voice. "You need to take a walk."
Warrick shook his head and laughed. "Really? Is that what you do Griss? You know, I don't know how you do it. I'm fighting for this woman who couldn't give a shit about me, but you have this woman you say you love and you let her go, no questions asked. Fucking amazing. How do you do it?"
"Warrick, I don't think this is the time or place."
"Don't give me that shit!" All the stress, time on the job and personal garbage caused Warrick to lose it. "Maybe you need to answer that question."
"Warrick either process the car or go for a walk."
"Answer the question, Grissom!"
The moment got to Grissom as well.
"You want an answer? I don't have one! I don't have an answer, Warrick! I don't know how it came to that! DAMMIT!"
This time it was Grissom who flung something across the room.
"What do you want Warrick? You want me to give you some type of resolution or advice that you can take with you? Look for it somewhere else because I don't have anything to give. All I have is a glimmer of faith that maybe, just maybe, she might come back. Sometimes I possess that faith and sometimes it possesses me and suffocates me like a big God damn lie!"
Both men were silent. Their uncharacteristic outbursts hung in the air, and they simply stood in silence hoping their anger and anxiety would slip away. Grissom stood for a short time with his hands on his hips and head directed towards the floor, towards the wall, any place but in the direction of Warrick's gaze. Eventually, Grissom started to pace and held his head in his hands.
Warrick didn't seem to know what to do or say. So he went to pick up his cellular. But before he could attempt to speak, Grissom broke the silence.
"Go find Nick, Warrick. Take a break. I'll process. Come back when you're ready to work."
Warrick stood there. He could have been suspended or fired. He was ashamed of his behavior, but simply gave Grissom a nod and left.
Grissom stood alone yet felt exposed. Biting his lip, he opened his kit and worked.
TBC