CSI: Crime Scene Investigators
When Life Merge With Death
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or any of the characters. All original Characters and events are purely fictional.
Author Note: Hi everybody... me again! I just want to thank everyone who reviewed... It really made my day. Thank you also for being honest and pointing out my mistakes. Now I can rectify them and hopefully not make the same mistakes again. Here is the promised chapter 2. Remember to review and tell me what you think of this one. ;o)
Chapter 2
Piercing blue eyes stayed focus on the screen before her, showing very intricate ballistic statistics. Sighing, the young female turned her head to stare at the notes at her side, before looking at the digital clock read out. 02:00. Rubbing her eyes, she continued typing. Samuel's "On earth" was blaring very loudly in the small room. Her head was bobbing in time to the music, dark chocolate brown hair swaying in the air. "Paris to San Francisco, Detroit to..." She sang along but stopped as she saw the red light above her door was on. Frowning, she stood up and walked over to her ballistic water tank. She pressed the button, but nothing happened. Sighing, she bends down wondering why on earth she had to wear these extremely tight and short uniforms. The mini skirt stop midway to her knee while the powder blue blouse barely closes over her chest. 'Stupid perverted bosses with stupid rules. I'm doing lab work for crying out loud! Who the hell is going to see if I walk barefoot around the lab? What's up with this damn button?'
"Hey
Sonny! Sonny!" Turning she saw the nightshift security guard
standing in the doorway with two men she didn't know. One was a
short gruff looking man in his forties or even early fifties, looking
very official. The second was a younger man, late twenties or
perhaps early thirties, with short spiky hair and an amused look on
his handsome face. Standing up from her crouched position, she
walked over to her stereo and turned it off.
"Sorry Mr.
Matthews, I didn't see you. How can I help you?"
"I saw the
light on and didn't hear any shots being fired. I was worried
about you." He said shyly and looked to his feet.
Brass turned
to the Security guard before asking, "You didn't hear shots, so
you got worried? Isn't it supposed to be the other way
around?"
Laughing, the young girl extended her hand to Brass.
"Sonette Williams. I'm the Head Runner. We have a light
attached to the Tank, so when we fire a shot, we don't yell it out,
we press the button the number of times we're going to fire and
then fire. Everyone then knows that to expect."
"I guess they
can't hear you yell over the music?" Brass asked in a curt but
humor way.
Still laughing, she answered. "That will be my
guess. Can I help you gentlemen?"
"Oh, this is Captain Brass
and Greg Sanders. They are from the crime lab and wanted to see Mr.
Diaz. We were on our way to his office." Matthews informed her
referring to the supervisor.
"He's
not here right now, but maybe I can help."
"Yes, thank you.
Would you mind answering some questions? Do you work closely with
Miss Hobbs and Mr. Cox?" Brass asked as he watched the security
guard leave.
Beckoning them into the lab, Sonette answered. "Mr.
Cox is head of ballistic. He is currently in New York on business,
so I'm in charge of the tests that need to be done during that
time. Miss Hobbs used to be head of DNA. She was unfortunately
killed about a week ago. Are you here because of her death? I
understand that she was murdered?"
"Yes, she was. Did they
have a lot of contact during work or after?" Before she could
answer another staff member stuck his head into the tiny lab.
"What's
with the light?"
"Sorry. I'm trying to turn it off." She
answered tilting her head to the side to look past Brass.
"Well,
do something about it. It's really distracting me." She nodded
as he disappeared around the doorframe.
"Sorry,
would you mind if I tinkered with this as we talk?" She asked as
she bended next to the tank. Her skirt moving up yet again to
show-off her well shaped legs.
"Not at all, now about Miss
Hobbs and Mr. Cox?"
Nodding again, she answered. "They did
not really talk to each other at all. That is why you have interns.
They do all those little things between departments. And as far as I
know they didn't really fall into the..." BAM-BAM! She hit the
tank hard on the side, causing the light to flash a couple of time
before turning off. Smiling, she straitened out and continued.
"...same social circle. Alex use to be a runner, before she got
promoted to head of DNA, but that was ages ago"
"And Mr. Cox?
What can you tell me about him?"
"Like I said, Head of
ballistics and out of town. He's a nice guy. But what does he
have to do with Alex?"
"I'm sorry to say this, but Mrs. Cox
was killed earlier today in a similar fashion as Miss Hobbs" Greg
spoke for the first time.
All the blood drained from Sonette's
pretty face. "I... I... Does Kirk know?"
"Yes. You seem to
be familiar with him. Are you close?"
Walking to her chair, the
young girl sat down. "Yes. I'm close with all department heads.
They depend on me a lot. I can run an entire department when
needed. That's what I'm doing now."
Nodding Brass asked "We
like to see both Miss Hobbs and Mr. Cox's work stations."
Nodding,
she answered, "Sure, but I'm not sure if I can do that. I think
you might need a search warrant or at least get permission from my
supervisor. I'll show you to his office. He should be back any
time now." Standing up again, Sonette began for the door, but
stopped as a tall male figure filled the doorway. The tall, clean
cut and bald African American spoke with a deep voice.
"Ah...
You must be the PD. Matthews told me you were looking for me.
Sonette, when you finish here, get to work on the backlogged DNA. I
need it done before sunrise." Nodding, she stepped aside, very
uncomfortable under his piercing gaze.
"Mr. Diaz. May I speak
with you in private, while my partner here inspects Miss Hobbs work
station?"
"Of course, Captain. Sonette, will you please
escort the crime lab to the DNA Lab?" Nodding yet again, Sonette
led Greg out of the room very quickly.
Opening
a door into a DNA Lab, Greg entered with Sonette. "This was her
work station, as your colleague puts it. I haven't used it for
three days now."
"So you were the last person to work in
here?"
"Yes. But I was needed in ballistics and haven't had
the time to come back yet." Nodding, the ex lab rat put his kit
down and looked around the room so similar to were he spend most his
past days in. Opening a pocket in his jacket, he extracted his latex
gloves and started walking around the room.
"Do you need me? I
kinda have a lot of work to do. But I'll like to help out.
Mini-break from computer screens." The girl questioned from the
doorway.
Giving her a smile, Greg answered. "Your company would
be nice. Tell me, how can you run so many departments?"
Smiling,
she answered while kicking her shoes off. "My father got me
interested in science. He's a criminalist. He has been analyzing
trace, Ballistics and DNA reports, performing autopsies on animals,
studying blood spatter and bullet striations at home since I was a
kid. Every now and then, I'll sneak one of his folders into my
room and read through it. I saw decapitated heads when I was 7.
Never even once did it scare me. My only nightmares are of spiders
and bugs."
Raising his eyebrows, Greg grinned at her. "You
serious?"
"Yeah, but my love is in DNA. I remember on my 11
birthday, he gave me a Thermocycler, to go with my DNA Analyzer, and
before the end of the day, I could tell him why certain samples were
female, male or animal. I got all my party invitees to give blood
samples." She said the last sentence while whispering.
Now Greg
was laughing. "And what? You became a runner?"
Shrugging,
she leaned against the wall. "To master forensics, you need to
master everything else first."
"You sound like Grissom, my
supervisor."
"This is only temporary. I quitted a while back
and will finish here at the end of the month. I can't do science
with men staring at my butt. I'm just a pretty face around here.
Nobody really understands what I'm capable off. I'm moving back
in with my father as well... to save rent while I'm unemployed."
Pushing herself off the wall, she continued. "Well, I should let
you get on with your work; I know my dad likes to work in silence. I
still have some stuff to do as well. If that light goes off, it
means I'm going to shoot a bullet. Don't be startled."
Grabbing her shoes, she turned to leave but stopped when Greg called
out.
"Wait. Would you like to have dinner with me
sometime?"
Blushing, she answers hesitantly. "I don't think
so. I just came out of a very bad relationship."
"A drink
then? We'll talk about DNA or something. I use to be the DNA
expert at the Las Vegas Crime Lab." He persisted. Smiling shyly
while whipping a strand of hair behind her ear, she nodded and
answered before leaving.
"Just a drink... You know where to
find me."
That
same night or early morning, Grissom sat in his office with his
favorite classical music on. The folders of the previous murders
were spread open on his desk. He stared down at the crime scene
pictures of the first victim, Pattie Hilton. She was a 16 year old
girl. Stabbed twice in the neck in an alley behind a local
supermarket. The absence of blood at the scene told him that she had
been moved, but he still hadn't located the original crime scene.
He can clearly remember the girl's parents distorted faces when he
questioned them. He can hear the father's words eco in his
mind.
'Do you have a daughter? No, you can't have. If you
did... you wouldn't be standing here looking at me... accusing
me... You'll be out there finding the damn bastard responsible for
this!'
Sighing, he removed his glasses and pinched the brow
of his nose. Putting the photos down, he picked up his cell phone.
After the first ring, a young feminine voice answered.
"Hello?"
Sighing, Grissom responded "Hi... How are
you?"
"...One of those cases again?"
Grissom smiled.
"Yeah. You know me to well."
The light laughter at the other
end made him feel better instantaneously. "I guess I don't have
a choice in the matter. Wanna do breakfast?"
"Sure. Meet you
at Patrick's?" He asked.
"Okay. I'm working late... so
say at 10?"
"I'll be there." He replied before hanging
up, replaced his glasses and picked up the second folder.
This
contained the photos of the second victim. Erin Grayson. Age 18.
Cause of death: Two stab wounds in the neck. Bled out at the
scene... The driveway of the family's home. Found by younger
sister...
"Hey Grissom." Looking up at the voice, Grissom
waited for Warrick to enter. Grissom could see that he was tired and
noted that he still wore the same clothes as yesterday. Warrick was
putting in as much hours as he did on this case. Grissom was proud
of his guys. They all knew how to pull their weight when the time
comes. He would never judge them if they needed some time off. "The
blood Nick found in the bathroom... it's not the Vic's, but it's
female. Mia hasn't done a CODIS search yet. Backlogged. Greg
will run it before nightshift starts again, and see if he can find a
hit. We might get lucky."
Nodding, Grissom responded. "I
don't believe in luck, you know that. We really need more staff in
here. I know Mia is trying hard, but I really can't wait this long
just to find out it doesn't belong to our Vic. What about the
fingerprint?"
"Jackie is still busy. AVIS isn't working to
well with partials. Nothing got kicked out. Once we get something
to compare it to... it'll be another story."
Nodding Grissom
stood up. "We are missing something. And we need to find it
before we find another body. We also need rest. Clock out at the
end of shift." The last part he said while eyeing Warrick closely.
Walking
over to the break room, Grissom entered to find only Catherine in
there. Smiling, she hung up the phone and turned to Grissom. "That
was Brass. The husband is here. Nick and Sara are going over to
talk to him. Greg found nothing new at the testing lab or from the
supervisor, besides a date with one of the runners." "I don't
want him making dates when he should be trying to get this guy of the
streets. He better get back to the lab and work on those blood
samples. We're running out of time." Looking at Grissom,
Catherine frowned.
"How long have we known each
other?"
"What?"
"Oh, come on Gil. We have been working
together since... ...forever! Why is this guy getting to you?"
After
what seemed like an eternity, Grissom answered "It feels
personal."
"Personal? How?"
Shrugging, Grissom sat down
and leaned his head back. "I can't explain it. It's like he's
making me answer the bloody question."
Frowning, Catherine sat
down next to him. "Care to explain that one?"
Turning to face
her, Grissom asked. "When relatives of the victim ask you, what if
that was your daughter? How can you not see Lindsay in those
scenes?"
Raising her eyebrows, Catherine responded. "Gil,
please don't tell me you're going to say something stupid like
you have a daughter?"
With a blank look Grissom answered with a
request. "Please, just answer the question."
Shrugging,
Catherine moved in her seat before starting. "Well, yeah. I guess
that every now and then I do see Lindsay in the cases. But we're
professionals; we need to work around it. Keep on telling ourselves
that this is not the case of your loved ones, that the victim is just
that, a victim. We can't get involved, Gil." Nodding, Grissom
stood up and walked out the door but not without Catherine asking a
final question. "You are going to tell me what this is about one
day, right?"
Nightshift
past into day and the team headed out for a shower and change of
clothes. The lucky ones even got a bit of sleep in. When nightshift
started it was like coming home. Load music was blaring from the DNA
lab. Greg was back! Swirling around in the chair, he smiled at Mia.
"So... yet again, I won. What's that? Three to...
zero!"
Sulking, Mia responded from the Thermocycler. "Everyone
knows that it's not how fast you process but what information you
get from it."
Laughing, the young CSI stood up and walked to the
computer as it started flashing a message. "And I got a hit!
Unknown DNA in sink from Shannon Cox house belongs to..." Grabbing
the printout, his smile quickly faded as he read the readout.
"Who?"
Mia asked. Greg turned to her, shook his head, and headed out the
door.
Grissom
and Nick were walking toward the brick house. The nearer they got,
the more Grissom believed that he was here at some point. He
remembers the house. Frowning, he stopped at the yellow tape. Brass
joined them as Grissom still stared at the house.
"Is it our
serial?" Nick asked.
Shrugging, Brass responded "Stabbed
twice in the neck... there is a slight... change. Vic's out back.
Her gardener found her next to the pool. He said that he didn't
touch her or anything he didn't bring. The gate was already
open."
Bending underneath the tape, Grissom walked towards the
gate, keeping his eyes on the ground. He did not want to damage
potential shoe prints. Walking around the house, he notices again
how familiar it looked to him.
"Something bugging you, Gris?"
Nick asked next to him.
Turning to face him, he asked "Have
we've been here before... maybe on a previous case?"
Shaking
his head, the jock answered "I don't believe so... or at least, I
wasn't to my knowledge." Turning the corner, they both saw David
next to the body.
"Hey Guys. I'm nearly done here. According
to the liver temp, I would estimate T.O.D about 2 to 3 hours ago."
He said as he heard them approach.
Grissom looked down at the
body. Looking at the dark chocolate brown haired woman, Grissom knew
why the house was so familiar.
Author Note: The end of Chapter 2! Hope it was easier to read now that I changed it a little. Let me know! See you all soon! ;o)
