Chapter 3. Thanks again to those who followed and favourited the story!
They were sitting opposite each other. Nick had missed hanging out with Greg more than he had realised. Sure he and Warrick were best friends and they could talk about sports and all that stuff. Spending time with Greg was different in many ways. The subjects they talked about span almost everything from the newest discoveries in science to Las Vegas mob trivia. Greg's easy-going and bubbly behaviour sometimes betrayed how knowledgeable and clever he was. Spending time with Greg made Nick happy as well as his attitude to life seemed to rub off onto him. Of lately Nick was in a bit of a rough state of mind as he questioned if he was throwing his life away. He was in his mid-thirties and longed to get settled down. But he had no idea how to even start doing so.
"So Mr. Stokes, can I interpret your wish to find a woman to marry, buy a house with a picket fence and father some children as some kind of mid-life crisis?" Greg's brown eyes studied him, while he was drinking a sip of coffee. That kid knew him to well. "I'm not that old, you know…" he said grimacing. "And who said something about marriage, real estate and kids? I would settle for not being alone for the time being." He put two sugars in his coffee cup and stirred until they had dissolved. "Maybe you're searching in the wrong place?" the younger man suggested.
Nick studied him. It was an innocent comment. Damn you Warrick for putting these thoughts in my head. "Maybe…"
"Enough of me. Anyone new in your life?" He didn't want to talk about himself anymore. At least not until Warrick's comments had vanished from his memory. Greg shrugged his shoulders. "No, couldn't say there was. Ever since I started being a proper CSI I feel way too tired to get myself to go out and meet someone. You should have warned me that it was this exhausting." Nick raised his hands in playful defense. "Hey G, I tried, but you just wouldn't listen." He smiled. There was that happy feeling again. "Yeah you probably did. Shame on me for being such a dickhead." Greg returned his smile.
He was spent. He fell face first into the soft pillows that were scattered on his bed. He yawned and contemplated to not get changed before sleeping. He had no idea how the others were doing it. It definitely made him appreciate the time he spent in the DNA more than he used to. Being a lab-rat wasn't the worst thing in the world- not that we wanted to go back. He also loved being a CSI. It just needed some getting used to.
Greg sighed and got up to change into his PJs and brush his teeth. It was good to catch up with Nick today. He had missed him. Missed talking to him and having him around period. Sure, Sara was his best friend, but she was occupied with Grissom most of the time. He knew about those two. They shouldn't even try to deny it. He had a sixth sense when it came to matters of the heart and he was also pretty good in reading body language.
He flopped onto his bed again and grabbed one of the pillows. He hold it close and sighed. He envied them. He felt so bloody alone sometimes.
Later that day Greg pressed the doorbell at the Stewart family home. Vartann stood next to him. Since he was working this case alone, he had to take a detective to all official questioning. Greg was glad that he wasn't alone. He remembered very well that Nick had guns pulled in his face more than one time when he had worked by himself. If possible he would like to avoid that experience. A white haired woman in her fifties answered the door. "Mrs. Stewart?" She nodded. "You must be the people from the LVPD, please come in." She let them in and led them into the living room.
Greg looked around. The position of a professor in Sedimentology must pay quite nice. The home of the Stewart's was a mansion rather than a house. The furniture were mostly antique and made of exquisite materials. "Can I offer you some coffee or tea?" Mrs. Stewart offered when he sat down. "Coffee for me," Vartann answered. "For me as well, please," Greg replied. "Just one moment." Mrs. Stewart vanished into the kitchen. Greg realised that she was nervous. He wondered why.
A couple of minutes she came back with three cups of coffee. She handed one to Greg. "Thank you, Mrs. Stewart. I hope you don't mind me asking a couple of questions, before I collect some of your husbands DNA?" She shook her head. "Go ahead, anything to help you with the investigation."
"When have you seen your husband the last time?" Mrs. Stewart put her hands into her lap and thought about her answer. "That must have been two week ago. You see Mr. Sanders," she read that from his vest," I went Geneva to meet some of my colleagues who work with the Large Hadron Collider. I only got back yesterday. I had no notion of Alastair missing." She looked down to her hands. "Do you think my husband is dead?"
"I can't say anything for sure yet. That's why the lab needs a sample of your husband's DNA, so we can compare it to the DNA we found on the scene." He hesitated for a second, before he went on. "Mrs. Stewart… word in the department is that your husband had a band load of enemies. Do you know anything about that?"
Mrs. Stewart got up. She started pacing around the room. "Well I guess Alastair wasn't liked by a lot of his co-workers," she admitted. "But they are jealous little pricks." She stopped in her tracks. "I apologise for that." Vartann grimaced. "Ma'am we are used to rougher language, you don't need to apologise." Mrs. Stewart sighed. She continued to pace around the room. "Alastair is really good in what he is doing. He has better industry funding than all of the other professors and lecturers together. I guess my husband also doesn't hold back with his opinion. When he thinks someone his wrong he will tell them." She stopped again and looked directly at Greg. "Sometimes he isn't very tactful about it."
Mrs. Stewart gave Greg a toothbrush, before she waved them goodbye. He brought it directly to the DNA lab to have it compared to the DNA sample of the victim. While he was waiting for the results he went into the breakroom and poured himself a coffee. He saw Sara sitting on the table. She was writing a report. "Hey Sara." He sat down next to her. "Hey Greg, how is it going?" she said with a small smile on her lips. "Alright I guess… I will hopefully know the identity of my victim soon." He took a sip of the black gold in his cup. "Glad to hear you are making progress." She lay down her pencil and turned to him. "Listen Greg, it was Grissom's decision to pull me from the case." Greg gave her an honest smile. "I know and he was right to do so. This is not a two man job. Your skills are best used on other cases. "She returned the smile. "I guess you're right." – "Of course I'm right. What I don't get is why you thought you needed to defend the decision in the first place. "He looked at her inquiringly. "Don't get this the wrong way, but you aren't a CSI that long yet…I thought I left you hanging."
Greg frowned. Even Sara thought that he wasn't up to the task of a CSI yet? It hurt to hear it from his best friend, but he didn't let it show on his face. "I'm doing fine." He stood up abruptly. "Gotta check if Wendy has my results yet." That was a lie. He was a bit irritated with Sara for saying such a thing. He felt like the only person who trusted in his abilities was Nick. The rest of them kept questioning if he was up for the task or if it wasn't too much of a job for him. It was hurtful and degrading. They never asked his ability when he was still in the DNA lab.
Later that shift Wendy paged him. "What you got for me?" He entered the DNA lab. The technician smiled at him. "Good news. The DNA I recovered from the toothbrush matches the DNA of the samples from the university." She handed him the test results. "That's great. Thank you Wendy." Finally he had a lead on this case. Poor Mrs. Stewart. I will have to tell her that her husband is dead after all. I notified Brass that he needed a warrant for Prof. Stewart's office. From everything he had learnt about the man, he inferred that a search of his workspace would be more promising than a search of his mansion. If needed he could always do that later.
Greg returned to the Geology Department a while later with a warrant. He gathered that the secretary wouldn't be happy. He was on his way to her, when he bumped into the PhD he met before. When he remember right his name was Kenneth. "CSI Sanders, you're back," the young man stated seemingly beaming at him with his green eyes. "Does that mean there are news on the case?"
Greg looked at him apologetically. "I can't discuss an ongoing investigation. Sorry, Kenneth." Kenneth ran his fingers through his auburn hair and smiled meekly. "Of course- sorry I asked. If you have more questions about any of the people in the department though, I'm more than happy to help you with that."
"I might have to take you up on that offer," Greg said amused. "Oh that is what I'm hoping. Bye for now…Greg." The PhD student gave him another smile and turned around.
Did he imagine it or had that guy just hit on him? Greg wasn't entirely sure. It felt good to get some attention for a change.
Time to go back to work he reminded himself.
Prof. Stewart's office reminded Greg of his old chemistry professor in Stanford. The room was in a state of organised clutter. If the others were here they would probably tell him, that he used to have the same organised clutter in his lab when he still worked DNA. It made him smile. The room also had a weird smell of dust, old paper and something familiar Greg couldn't quite grasp.
The walls were covered in cupboards full of books and journals. The desk had a laptop, some papers and a couple of rock samples on top. Greg frowned when he realised that the laptop wasn't shut down, but merely in hibernation mode. That was interesting. He bagged it for Archie.
He let his gaze wonder. The professor owned a fridge. Greg figured it must be for beer bottles. It wasn't a secret that geologist like to drink some beer after a good day of work. He hunkered down next to the fridge. The weird smell got stronger. He had a funny feeling about it.
Greg opened the fridge. Instead of beer bottles he found a body cut in small pieces contained in sample bags. He grimaced. Now he knew why that smell had been so familiar. Needless to say Prof. Stewart hadn't stuffed himself into that fridge which meant the killer must have been in his office.
He stood up and left the office. "This is a crime scene," he told the uniformed policeman who had accompanied him. "I need some yellow tape here." Then he called Dave for the body parts and Grissom to inform him about the break in this case.