Denial
A/N: Sorry for the gap in updates. I meant to update yesterday, but I had family stuff to do. No more school!! That means that you should expect an update every other day or so. It may be more or less frequent depending on what I'm doing. Thank you for all the reviews!! I don't think that there will be any Catherine, Warrick, Lindsey, or Nick in this chapter, but we'll see. Oh yeah, and there will be a few choice curse words in this chapter… Um, sorry for those, they reflect my thoughts and feelings on the stupid Undersheriff…
NOTE: this chapter takes place simultaneously with the last one, so keep that in mind
Chapter Four:
Grissom and Sara had just dropped Lindsey off at school. They headed to the scene. Yellow crime tape shone in the early morning sun. Ecklie and his minions were processing the scene. Ecklie's bald-on-top head glinted, making him easy to spot. The two of them exited the Tahoe and joined the throng of observers.
Warrick's car sat in the middle of the cordoned off area. Shattered glass from the driver's side window lay on the ground, reflecting the occasional flash of a camera. Grissom's pulse quickened as he looked at the blood on the ground. Warrick's blood. They had to catch this guy. He knew that he could depend on the night shift, and Sara, to help him find this bastard.
Ecklie spotted Sara and Grissom. He did a double take when he saw Sara. The politically motivated supervisor walked over to them, camera in hand. "Grissom, Sidle, I see that you've heard about Brown," he said in that oily voice of his.
"Yes. We've heard."
"Do you know his condition?" Grissom and Sara exchanged glances.
Sara replied after a moment. "He's stable. Catherine and Nick are with him at the hospital." Ecklie opened his mouth to say something, but Grissom continued where Sara left off.
"He won't be able to talk, Conrad. He was shot in the throat, so he needs time to recover."
"I see," Ecklie nodded his annoying little head. "I guess we'll send someone to get his statement later."
"Good choice," Grissom told him. His eyes surveyed the scene for an instant before returning to Ecklie's face. "What do you have so far?"
"Well, Brown was hit with two bullets. We have officers canvassing the scene for witnesses. Who found him? I heard that the Good Samaritan went with him to the hospital."
"You're right," Sara said. "Nick found him bleeding out in the car. He called nine-one-one and an ambulance came."
"Stokes?" Ecklie sighed. "Is he the only witness?"
"So far," Grissom said, almost completely ignored Ecklie as he watched the day shift process the scene. One CSI was digging a bullet out of the wall of the alley while another dusted the passenger's side for prints.
Ecklie shook his head. "First, Brown is accused of murder. Then, we find out that he was being framed. And now, someone tried to kill him. What a crappy day this has been for Brown."
Sara fixed the supervisor with a glare. She wanted to hit him for saying what he did. It wasn't what he said that annoyed her, it was the way he said it. As if he found it amusing. And that made her want to punch his lights out. But, she needed Ecklies wits (what few he had) about him if he was going to find the bastard who did this to Warrick. So, a glare had to suffice.
Grissom watched as they dug out a single bullet. He wished he could look at it closer. The CSI dusting for prints came up with nothing. It discouraged him slightly, but they still had Warrick and they knew that he would identify the man who tried to kill him.
Ecklie was talking. To Grissom. Grissom blinked twice and turned to look at the day shift supervisor. "Yes?" he asked, attempting to be polite.
"I was saying, you can look over the evidence—but no touching—when we process it back at the lab."
"Thank you, Conrad." He turned to Sara, "Let's go."
CSICSICSICSICSI
Greg disembarked at 12:30. He was finally back in Las Vegas. He had to go back through security (which made him twitch) before he could finally leave. He practically ran out to the parking lot, cramming his fedora onto his head as he went. He opened his car door and jumped inside.
He drove quickly, but just under the speed limit. He called Grissom for an update.
Grissom, the voice on the other end answered. But, that definitely wasn't Grissom.
"Um, Sara?" he ventured a guess at who would answer Grissom's phone.
She laughed. Yeah. Gil's driving and I also stole his phone.
You did not steal it! Grissom's voice could be heard in the background. I allowed you to borrow it.
Oh, sorry, Greggo, I borrowed it.
Greg smiled. The two of them sounded lighthearted. That seemed like a good sign. "So, Warrick's okay?"
Yeah, Sara told him. He's stable. Nick and Catherine are with him right now. The doctors said that he should be fine.
"That's great." His smile grew as he breathed a sigh of relief.
So, Greg, what took you so long to call?
Greg's smile vanished and he groaned. Airport that bad?
"You have no idea. I was 'that guy'. You know, the one they choose to pick on for the entire duration of the airport run." More laughter from Sara. He could hear her cover the phone and tell something to Grissom. He joined in on the laughter too. "Oh, haha. Very funny, Sara. It was aggravating! They made me miss my first flight!"
Really? Why didn't you just flash your badge?
"I finally did. But, it was too late. I missed my flight by five minutes."
Wow. Well, Greg, you should go home and catch some sleep. There's nothing you can do until day shift has processed the evidence or until visiting hours begin. So, sleep until about three. Visiting hours are four till six.
"Oh. Well, I guess I'll see you then."
Yeah, see you then, Greggo.
Greg smiled at the use of his nickname. It was silly, but he loved it. The team was the only people who ever called him that. He pulled into the parking lot of his building and went to his apartment. He unlocked his door and flicked on his lights. A quick scan told him that everything was in place.
He took off his favorite fedora and put it on a coat rack that held no coats. Instead, there was his CSI vest (which he never wore. It totally clashed with his style. But, one never knew when they needed it…), his fedora (which he had just replaced), his CSI hat (which he hardly ever wore. I mean, it was ridiculous, too. I mean, he worked the night shift and would never need to shade his eyes from the sun), and his camera bag (which he used all the time.).
He threw his keys on the counter and opened his fridge. Man, he was starved. The planes didn't feed passengers anymore. He pulled out some bread and put it in the toaster. He pulled out a jar of his favorite creamy peanut butter. As he cooked (yeah, he did consider making toast "cooking"), he checked his messages. Nothing.
He slept after eating his peanut butter toast until three.
CSICSICSICSI
The Undersheriff, Ben Carlson, sat at his desk. He had just been informed that Warrick Brown was in the hospital. He cursed after replacing the phone in the cradle. "Stupid bastard… I thought I killed you!!" he whispered furiously.
His plans had fallen apart. He had abandoned the gun in a nearby dumpster and had been sure to kill Warrick when the day shift would catch the scene. Ecklie would not implicate the Undersheriff in any way. He was a kiss-ass who played politics. And, the best part was that Grissom couldn't touch the case. If he could, he would be worried. But, he couldn't. And that made him feel a little better. But just a bit.
He sat at his large desk in his spacious office and thought about a backup plan. Brown would obviously identify him as the attacker. And that couldn't do. He could threaten the CSI. Or bribe him. But, what could he use as leverage? He had divorced his wife, so he couldn't have her, I don't know, "accidentally" go missing or something. Well, he could, but Brown probably wouldn't care too much.
He buried his head in his hands. He had to think of something. The Undersheriff rubbed his temples. He had to find some sort of leverage on Brown. Something that would make him lose his credibility or refuse to testify. Killing him was the easiest way to get rid of him, but he had failed when he tried to kill him. And that frustrated him. Now everything was much more complicated. Hopefully he wouldn't remember what had happened. But, he knew that Brown's memory would be back. If not today, then tomorrow.
Carlson massaged his neck, trying to relax. He just couldn't. Brown was going to put him in jail for attempted murder. All because he was on someone's payroll… He shook his head. He refused to lose to this stupid CSI. He knew nothing. Brown was only annoying because he was like a dog with a bone. He wouldn't just let it be. He had found the man who tried to frame him, but it wasn't enough.
He would've been great to have on his side, but Brown was straight laced. Sure, he broke a few rules sometimes, but it was nothing big. Nothing that said "I'm ready to get paid off to break rules". And that pissed off the Undersheriff. He had warned him by killing that girl. But, did he get the message? No. And then, he had him framed for murder.
Grissom and his team had gotten in the way of that. They had to go and ruin all his plans by figuring it out. Wait… That's it! The team! He smiled viciously. There had to be someone on the team that he was particularly close to. He could use their well being against Brown. It could make him forget who had shot him. Carlson looked up and his smile widened. There had to be somebody who he could ask subtly.
This could actually work out for him. He could frame someone else with the attempted murder of Brown. And Brown would back him up on it! Maybe things weren't so bad after all.
CSICSICSICSI
Sara and Grissom picked Lindsey up right after school. She jumped into the back of their car, wasting no time talking to friends. "Have you heard more about Warrick?" she asked immediately.
"No, but he's still stable," Sara answered.
Lindsey breathed a sigh of relief. She had been worrying all day about Warrick. They drove back to the hospital and arrived at 3:55. The same stony eyed nurse that Lindsey had talked to early that morning sat at the desk. She looked the three of them over and said, "Visiting hours aren't until four."
Lindsey resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They sat in the hard plastic chairs of the waiting room. Greg entered a minute or so later looking tired.
"Greg!" Lindsey jumped up and hugged the youngest CSI.
"Hey, Lindsey!" he said with just as much enthusiasm. Greg acted like a teenager most of the time, so they got along well. Lindsey had always thought of Greg as the "cool uncle" she never had. He hugged her tightly, picking her up and spinning her. They both laughed.
Sara watched them, amused. Grissom just glanced at his watch. Finally, it was four o'clock. Lindsey was the first down the hallway. She dashed to Warrick's room and almost crashed into Nick. Nick smiled broadly at the four of them. "He's awake," he told them.
Smiles spread through the group. All of them were happy that their friend—no, he wasn't a friend, he was family—was okay. While the adults talked about Warrick's condition, Lindsey slipped past them. She walked to Warrick's door just in time to see her mother kiss him.
Her smile, if possible, got even bigger. About time, Mom.
A/N: Okay, this chapter is kind of short, but I couldn't think of anything else to put in it… So, that's what everyone else was doing while the last chapter took place. See, I even remembered Greg this time! Oh, and who can tell that I hate Ecklie? He makes me cringe every time he comes on screen… I must admit that for a LONG time, I didn't know that "Conrad" was his first name. I thought it was his like… title. Like, Lieutenant or something. So, I felt really stupid when I realized it was his first name because it sounds so… awkward. I hope he was made fun of as a child for it! (not really…)
REVIEW!! Please? Reviews make me smile…