Hey, Guys,

So here's a new chapter. This is one of my favourites so far. A quick heads up, don't expect too much from the B case. It's actually just a bridge for a later scene and to introduce Nick's sister, Lara.

Please leave me a review, there's nothing that inspires me more than seeing that gold envelope telling me someone's reviewed. Anyway, enjoy.

Xxx

IronAngel 240.

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"So how did Ranger Graw confirm TOD?" Catherine asked Lara. They had been looking over reports and notes for the better part of three hours now, and Catherine were shocked at how this case lacked concrete forensics. However, Catherine realised that Lara had a bit of a temper and she didn't want to make blasé accusations without any evidence.

"Well, it was confirmed that Anita's habit when she returned home from work was to remove her department store badge and change into casual clothes," explained Lara. "The Rangers alleged that the murder took place sometime during those two hours on Tuesday, since, when her body was discovered, the woman had still been wearing her formal clothes and her work badge."

There's that word again, thought Catherine as she picked up an eyewitness report, Alleged.

Catherine began reading the report. The eyewitness was one of Anita Meyers neighbours, Maria Gonzales. Catherine was in the middle of the first paragraph when a particular fact jumped out at her. She frowned and reread the paragraph. Catherine looked down at the photos of the body and her jaw dropped. She then quickly picked up another eyewitness report, which confirmed what she had just read in Maria Gonzales statement. Catherine picked up the third and final eyewitness report and it said the same as the last two.

"Hey, Lara?" Catherine said still holding the report in her hand.

"Yeah?"

"On what evidence did the Rangers base the theory that Anita had just returned home from work when she was murdered?" Catherine asked.

"She was wearing a formal black blouse and her employee badge when she was found," replied Lara.

"Then you've got a problem," said Catherine.

"What?"

"According to your three eyewitnesses that placed Anita returning home at six, she was wearing a white blouse, yet in the crime scene photo's she is wearing a black blouse," explained Catherine as she handed Lara the statements and the photographs.

Lara grabbed them from her and her eyes quickly scanned the documents; her eyes widened in shock.

"Oh, shit," she muttered.

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Warrick Brown stood in the audio/visual room next to the lab's resident video whiz, Archie. They were both working on the now digitised snuff movie.

"Okay," said Warrick, "Let's run the whole thing back again from the beginning. This time without the sound."

Archie tapped a few keys on his computer's keyboard and the frames ran backwards.

"Alright," said Warrick as he once again watched the couple have sex. When the man got up he said, "Stop. Can you zoom in on his back?"

"Yeah," said Archie as he began to blow up the image size, zeroing in on the desired area.

"What is that? A mole?" asked Warrick as they peered at blurry, black blob that was on the man's neck.

"Non-cancerous," stated Archie.

"You think?" huffed Warrick, "too bad, the bastard."

As the continued to watch the tape, Warrick said, "This room is like a dime a dozen. It could be any room in Vegas."

"Between the drapes, can you get any other detail outside that window?" Warrick asked the tech.

"Er...I'll reverse the polarization," said Archie as his fingers flew over the keyboard, "See if we can get any more information."

Warrick narrowed his eyes as Archie pulled up a zoomed in image of the window and said, "That looks like a blob outside the window. Spherical...hm?"

Archie nodded in agreement, "I'll blow it up. Times ten."

A few more taps on the keyboard and the indistinct blob became more prominent.

"The Stratosphere Tower," said Warrick in pleased recognition. "South face maybe? Using the Stratosphere as a point of reference, can you triangulate and pinpoint the street that this was filmed on?"

Archie smirked, "I can."

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"This doesn't prove anything," said Lara indignantly.

Catherine sighed in exasperation, "It throws out your whole forensic timeline!"

"Maybe she changed when she got home," said Lara.

"Oh, sure, she changed into a formal black blouse and pinned on her employee badge for a nice quiet evening of watching TV. Who doesn't?"

"Don't mock me, Willows," warned Lara.

"Then don't try and disregard the evidence," countered Catherine. "Look," she said in a calmer tone, "If we don't work the evidence properly, then an innocent man goes to prison and a killer walks free."

Lara sighed and rubbed the back of her neck, "Fine."

Catherine nodded her head, "Now, why didn't the coroner take a liver temp?"

"The heater was turned on, the place was practically a sauna," replied Lara. "Liver temp wasn't applicable."

"Now, I'm assuming the husband was the main suspect because of the obvious passionate nature of the crime," said Catherine.

Lara nodded, "There had been several domestic violence calls to 911 from neighbours. Mr. Meyers liked to beat Anita. A lot. When officers arrived on the scene they found the place completely trashed. Anita Meyers was almost unrecognizable; they had to first ID her by her employee's badge, then by DNA."

"Where was her husband at the time?"

"AWOL," said Lara, "Rangers picked him up a few hours later; his blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit."

Catherine arched a delicate eyebrow and said, "So he couldn't provide you with an alibi?"

"Couldn't even give us his name."

"Was a weapon used to kill Anita?" Catherine asked.

"Yeah. Fists," replied Lara, "When we found Eric Meyers, he was covered in blood and when the lab tested it, it was confirmed to be Anita's. That was the final nail in his coffin."

Catherine picked up the body shots of Eric Meyers. True enough, he was covered in blood; but when Catherine moved on the pictures of Eric's hands, they weren't bruised or cut.

"I'm now sure Eric Meyers didn't kill his wife," she said to Lara.

"How?"

"Look at his hands," said Catherine as she showed Lara the photos. "If he'd beaten his wife to death, his hands would be bruised and cut up."

Lara stared at the photo's without saying anything.
"I think you'd better phone your captain and book a flight," said Catherine. "You've got to reopen this case."

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The rustling of dead leaves in the chilled autumn wind filled the air as Griffin, Sara and Warrick were greeted by Detective Sulik in front of the abandoned hotel. This was the spot Archie had triangulated the origin of the snuff film.

"What's the deal with this place?" Warrick asked as they made their way to the entrance.

"Hotel's in receivership," explained Detective Sulik. "The security guy says the elevator still works."

"Yeah... we're gonna need to talk to him," said Warrick.

"As soon as he gets off the phone with the owner," answered Sulik as they entered the hotel. Griffin noticed said security guard off to the side speaking into his phone.

The lighting was very dim in the abandoned hotel; the lobby was strewn with out-dated furniture. The whole place had a creepy vibe to it. Like Ghost Face was about to jump out of a wardrobe with a knife in his hand.

Griffin clicked on her mini flash light and paused as she ran the beam over an old lamp.

"What's up?" asked Warrick as he came to stand next to her.

"Oh, nothing," she said. Then referred to the lamp and said in a humoured voice, "Only difference between kitsch and beautiful is time."

The trio of criminalist got in the elevator and rode it to the designated floor. They exited it and walked down a long hallway that was dotted with green doors on either side. The lights didn't work up here so they all had their flashlights on.

"Well," said Sara clearing her throat, "I'll take the first one. Warrick, you take the second. Griffin, the third?"

With that they all entered their respective rooms. In Griffin's room, there was only a bed with a side table on which was a lamp. The windows were partially covered with yellow curtains that did little to keep the sun out. Griffin held up the photo of the Stratosphere Tower, which was printed on projection paper, up to the window. She was disappointed to see that the images didn't line up. Warrick also had no luck. His room was identical to Griffin's, but instead of a bed and lamp, his room contained a bunch of uninstalled toilets. Sara's room was completely empty, but when she held up her picture, she found that it lined up beautifully with the Stratosphere Tower outside the window.

"Hey, Guys?" she called out. Sara glanced over her shoulder when Warrick and Griffin walked in, then back at the picture in her hand as she said, "We got it."

Griffin and Warrick stood behind Sara and peered over her shoulder at the corresponding picture and Tower. Warrick moved around the small room and observed, "Someone moved out all the furniture."

Griffin looked around the room as well; she flashed the beam of her torch to the side wall, narrowed her eyes and said, "And painted the wall."

Sara and Warrick stepped closer as Griffin put down her kit.

"If they can't see it, we can, huh?" said Warrick, still staring at the wall.

"Right," agreed Griffin as Warrick knelt by his kit and pulled out his ALS. As he ran the ultraviolet light over the wall, fluorescent smudges popped up all over the green paint.

"Arterial spray," said Griffin from her place next to Sara as she followed the trail of blood in the air with her index finger.

"There's a void," gestured Sara with her small finger. "It could be a...face?"

"Yeah, maybe," agreed Griffin.

Sara stared at the fluorescent arterial spray and asked in a soft, subdued voice, "How does someone cross the line where killing a woman is a turn on?"

"Oh, I don't think snuff-makers cross a line, Sara," Griffin answered, the disgust evident in her voice, "They start on the other side of it."

"Biology determining pathology," said Sara in a cynical, yet defeated voice. Griffin looked up sharply at her. A small frown creased the skin between her eyebrows.

"Yeah," smirked Warrick, "Some people are just born bad."

Warrick didn't notice the minute drop of Sara's shoulders; the tiniest defeated bow of her head.

"I don't believe that," said Griffin sharply, her eyes trained on Sara. The latter lifted her soft chestnut eyes in confusion to meet deep chocolate brown ones. Griffin held Sara's gaze as she said intently, "There is no such thing as a murder gene."

Sara's quiet gasp could only be heard by Griffin. Warrick, who was oblivious to the exchange between the two women, picked up his kit and said as he left the room, "Where's that security guard?"

Griffin held Sara's eyes for a second longer, making sure the weight of her words had registered with the older woman, before she too picked up her kit and followed Warrick.

No such thing as a murder gene. The words resonated in Sara's skull like an echo off cave walls. How could she possible know to say that? thought Sara, still in a daze. She finally shook herself and began processing the room.

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"How long you been a day guard here?" Detective Sulik asked the young, dark haired security guard. Catherine and Warrick had joined Sulik in interrogation the security guard back in the lobby, whilst Sara processed what little evidence was left in the room.

"Four months," answered the guard, "But I don't know anything about the murder you're talking about."

"You know anything about who painted out room 918?" Warrick asked.

"No idea," said the guard.

Liar, thought Griffin as she watched a faint sheen of sweat break out on the young man's forehead; even though it was cool enough to need a coat inside the hotel. Just then something on the guard's dark jacket caught Griffin's eye.

"You should try a scalp conditioner," suggested Griffin as she leaned in closer to the guard, peering at his shoulder.

"What?" asked the guard in a confused voice, flinching back slightly when he noticed how close Griffin was.

"Your dandruff," said Griffin referring to the white flecks on the jacket, "Oh, my bad. Primer."

Griffin looked up at the guard with hard eyes and said in an even harder voice, "Alkyd-based."

She walked around and stood behind the guard, "Never comes out in the wash, but you already know that. Warrick?"

Warrick gave the guard a smouldering look before he joined Griffin behind the guard. He glanced down at the man's neck and saw a small black blob.

"You were in that snuff film," Warrick accused.

"You stabbed that girl," said Griffin, her voice as sharp as a knife. She glared at the guard with her dark eyes.

"I let them use the room to make a movie, that's all," said the guard defensively looking from Griffin to Warrick.

"Yeah," said Warrick, "We saw you in the movie, you and your nice mole."

"The guy threw in another two hundred if I'd have sex with the girl," said the guard in a pleading voice. "She was hot. So I figured, why not? Did her and left. She was breathing fine."

"So when you came back and saw the blood on the wall, did you think to call the police?" asked Warrick, his voice raised.

"I didn't wanna lose my job," replied the guard in a half shamed half pleading voice.

"Oh, how touching," said Griffin disgusted, "Arrest him."

Sulik stepped forward with a pair of handcuffs and said, "Turn around."

As Sulik walked the security guard outside Warrick said to Griffin, "Meet you back at the lab?"

Griffin nodded, "I'll help Sara finish, if you can processes Mr Bright Spark."

Warrick smirked and walked out the lobby. Sara came down then and joined Griffin.

"You finished?" Griffin asked.

"Yeah," said Sara, "Other than the photos of the blood, there's not much else."

"Let's get back to the lab," suggested Griffin, "Warrick's gonna process the guard for us. We could stop for something to eat if you'd like?"

"Sounds good," agreed Sara as they walked out the hotel and towards the Denali. Griffin popped the trunk and hefted her kit into the car, then stepped aside for Sara to do the same. As Sara settled her kit in the trunk Griffin asked her in a shaky voice, "Hey, Sara?"

Sara looked over at her partner. Griffin was bracing herself against the Denali. Her face was drained of any colour and a faint sheen of sweat had gathered on her brow.

"Griffin?" said Sara worriedly as the young woman swayed unsteadily on her feet. When Griffin began to slide to the ground, Sara lurched forward and to steady her. She helped Griffin to sit inside the trunk of the Denali and knelt before her.

"Griffin, what's wrong?" Sara asked, slightly frightened.

Griffin leaned her head against the side of the car and said in a breathless voice, "Insulin pack...in my bag...back seat."

Sara immediately understood and jumped to her feet. She rushed around the car, ripped the door open and located Griffin's satchel. Sara hastily rummaged through the bag and found the brown leather pack. When she had this in her hand, Sara returned to Griffin, holding out the pack. Griffin reached out to take it, but her hand was shaking so badly that Sara pulled it away and laid it down on the tar next to her. She then opened the pack before she helped Griffin to remove her coat. Sara then rolled up Griffin's sleeve, took the rubber tube and fastened it tightly around Griffin's arm. At this point Griffin seemed to be slipping out of consciousness.

"Stay with me Griffin," Sara said in a loud voice as she filled a syringe with insulin. She located a vein in Griffin's arm and plunged the needle in, injecting the fluid. Griffin gasped and her eyes flew open. Sara wiped a strand of hair from Griffin's face, her heart beating furiously.

"Are you okay?" Sara asked quietly.

Griffin nodded her head and moved to get up.

"Whoa," said Sara laying a restraining hand on Griffin's shoulder, "Just sit for a few minutes, okay?"

Griffin nodded weakly. After a few moments of silence Sara asked gently, "How often do you have to take the insulin?"

"Every six hours," said Griffin, her eyes still closed.

"How long has it been?"

"...Eleven."

Sara stayed silent as she simply watched Griffin's face. As she did this, something strong and protective awoke in Sara. Griffin had shown herself to be such a strong, independent woman, that this vulnerable side of her shocked Sara. It made her want to place herself in front of anything that wanted to harm this young woman who was always selflessly watching out for someone else.

Griffin took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes. Her eyes instantly focused on Sara's, who was still kneeling in front of her.

"You okay?" Sara asked softly.

Griffin nodded weakly, "It's my own fault. I just got so busy...I guess I forgot to take the insulin."

"Here," said Sara as she pulled a cereal bar from her kit, "You should eat something."

Griffin looked at the cereal bar for a moment before she lifted her eyes. Sara was shocked to see a film of tears in those liquid chocolate eyes. Sara swallowed as she saw the level of gratitude that shone there, as if no one had ever done something nice for the young woman.

"Thank you," Griffin whispered as she took the cereal bar from Sara's hand. Sara gave a shaky smile as she helped Griffin to remove the rubber cord and put on her jacket. The pair then unceremoniously got in the car and returned to the lab...

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