Chapter Six

Intentions

As the rest of the week and the beginning of the next came along, Eric was starting to adapt to Calleigh's absence. He still missed terribly, however he wasn't "moping on the job" anymore and grown accustomed to the fact she wasn't a lab away. He came out of his slump at seemingly the perfect time, seeing as Natalia needed her friends for a certain task.

Her furniture was pushed to the center of the living room and draped in plastic while old sheets covered the floor.

"I really appreciate this, guys," she sighed as she came in, her hair pulled back in a braid and paint brushes in hand.

"What are friends for?" Eric grinned as he poured the pale green paint into the tray.

"Apparently, manual labor," Walter mumbled to Ryan, who snickered.

"Hey, I'm feeding you guys later; it's not like you're working for free," Natalia pointed out. "And the sooner we get this done, the sooner I'll order food."

"Then let's get working," Ryan suggested; Natalia rolled her eyes with a sigh as she shook her head.

"Okay, here's the game plan," Natalia started. "Eric, you take care of this wall. I'll take the front wall, Walter, take the back and Rye, you take the other. Sound good?"

"Yes, ma'am," they all chorused.

Natalia rolled her eyes again as she grabbed the paint roller and pushed it in the tray before applying it to the wall. The others followed suit and began to cover the beige walls with the verdant color.

"So, Delko, how's your lady friend doing in Missouri?" Walter asked with a tone that was almost teasing.

"She's fine," Eric replied. "Apparently they've got a crew in to start remodeling."

"Remodeling?" Natalia asked.

"Yeah, they have to make the lab bigger to accommodate the ranges," he explained.

"Wow," Natalia said, impressed. "She must be having a blast."

"Yeah," Eric nodded being able to clearly see Calleigh overseeing and possibly taking part of the destruction of the lab.

"I just had a vision of Calleigh using a sledge hammer for deconstruction," Walter informed them, and then he shuddered. "I'm scared for those guys."

The others laughed at that as they continued to paint the walls. Slowly the walls began to transform as the dull green paint began to devour the living room.

"Hey, Walter," Ryan said at one point. "You've got some paint on your face."

In fact, he did, a singular green droplet rested just below his eye, but Walter didn't believe him.

"Nice try, Wolfe," Walter said. "But this trick is way too old."

"Trick?" Ryan asked, innocently.

"Yeah, I'll try to wipe away the 'paint' that's supposedly on my face and then the real paint on my hands will smear on my face. Mm-mm," he shook his head. "Not falling for it."

"Okay," Ryan shrugged. "Just thought you'd like to know."

"But, hey, buddy," Walter said as he approached Ryan. "You have some on your face."

Ryan rolled his eyes suspiciously and then, before he could dodge, Walter ran his paint brush across Ryan's cheek. Ryan stood there in a silent fury as Walter, with a satisfied smirk, returned to his wall. Ryan grabbed the paint roller, approached Walter from behind and ran the roller up his back, covering the once clean T-shirt with green paint. Walter gritted his teeth and turned to face his opponent.

"Now, it's on," he warned, flinging more paint at Ryan.

Natalia groaned. "Seriously, guys, this is juvenile."

"Come on, Natalia," Eric smirked. "Live a little."

Natalia pursed the lips; taking that as a challenge, she turned on her heel to face Eric, who was having difficulty trying to contain his laughter.

"Live a little?" she repeated. "Okay." She bent down to pick up a tray in which only a miniscule amount of paint remained. She raised it over Eric's head and emptied the contents; it began to trickle a little down his face and the back of his neck.

Eric sighed. "You realize now I have to get you back?"


Calleigh was cursing under her breath as she washed a gash she got on her hand, which she caught on a jagged piece of metal. The water ran red in the restroom sink and she could feel the pulse beating in her wound.

She turned off the water and gathered some paper towel in her hand to press against the injured hand. She stepped out of the restroom and Steve stood out there, a first aid kit in hand.

"Dr. O'Malley at your service," he said in his usual monotone voice. "How's the hand?"

"It's fine," she shrugged.

"We'd better wrap it up," Steve said as they sat on the bench along the wall. He dug out a bandage wrap and gauze as Calleigh lifted the paper towel.

"Ouch," he commented as he applied the gauze and began to wrap the bandage around her hand. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Calleigh nodded as he tightly wrapped the white material around her hand.

"Looks like hell."

"I've had worse. Thanks," she added when he finished. She got to her feet and they headed down back towards the lab. Her cell phone began to ring and filled the hall; she awkwardly dug it out of her pocket and glanced at the screen.

"I'll be right there," she said to Steve, who nodded and stepped in the lab as she pressed "accept." "Hey."

"Hi," he said; Calleigh was surprised that he sounded breathless.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah," he promised.

"Are you sure? How's painting going?"

"Gr-Great," he stuttered as though he were trying to contain laughter. "Except we all look like-."

"You guys got into a paint battle, didn't you?" Calleigh assumed; she had known the incident Natalia informed her of enlisting help from her friends that some immaturity would emerge from the grown men.

Eric let out a bark of laughter. "Maybe."

"Put me on speaker," she sighed, knowing she should be getting back to work soon, but the temptation of entering this conversation was too much to resist.

"Okay," there was a pause then he said to the others, "guys, it's Calleigh."

"Hey, Calleigh," they chorused.

"Hey, guys," she smiled. "So, who started it?"

"Walter," Ryan, Eric and Natalia replied instantly.

"No, it was Wolfe," Walter insisted. "See, he tried to trick me into getting paint on my face-."

"But you put the brush on me first," Ryan pointed out.

Calleigh rolled her eyes and laughed. "Did your walls get any paint, Nat?"

"Um, well, the majority of the area did. But I think we painted each other better."

"We're walking pieces of art," Walter declared.

"Send me a picture of this; I need a visual aid," Calleigh smiled.

"Okay, but just so you know, Eric looks better when you can't see his face because of the paint," Ryan joked.

"And no amount of paint could make you look better, Wolfe," Eric playfully retorted. "Did you get it, Cal?"

Calleigh opened the message the picture had been sent in. The four sat there, all in old clothes and were severely drenched in a thick green liquid. Ryan had streaks of paint along his cheeks, Walter had a series of blotches over his forehead and Calleigh had a hard time deciding that his T-shirt was originally white. The braid in Natalia's hair had been completely covered and the splotches on her arms popped away from her tanned skin.

She saved Eric for last and she couldn't believe how completely absurd he looked. Streaks of green paint appeared to run down his caramel colored cheeks and stuck in his stubble. His shoulders, revealed by his tank top, looked as though someone had literally tried to paint him instead of the wall.

Calleigh put her phone back to her ear. "You guys look like you were attacked by the Wicked Witch of the West."

"Don't be jealous, Cal," Walter said. "Unlike us, green is not your color."

"Funny," she rolled her eyes.

"So, how are things going?" Ryan asked.

"Good, well except for the fact my hand was attacked by metal," she shrugged.

"Are you okay?" Eric immediately asked with concern.

"Yeah, it's just a scratch," she replied in a nonchalant manner. "This guy I work with patched me up, so no big deal."

"A guy?" Ryan asked in a teasing voice; Natalia elbowed him in the ribs.

"Shut up, Ryan," Calleigh smiled. "Well, I've gotta get back to work."

"I'll call you later," Eric promised.

"Okay," she grinned. "Bye."

"Bye," he replied before he ended the call.

"We just gave her blackmail material for the next decade," Ryan sighed.

"Yeah," Eric nodded, briefly glancing at his cell phone wall paper. It was of Calleigh when they took a jog along the beach. At one point they decided to slow down and, with her face flushed and hair scrunched in a sloppy ponytail, Eric took the picture. Eric smiled at the wall paper for a minute before sliding the phone away.

"Well, except for the hand she seems okay," Natalia said.

"Yeah," Eric nodded.

"But you still miss her like crazy," Walter teased. "And it kills you that someone is there, wrapping her hand and it's not you."

Eric had grown used to the playful badgering of his colleagues and he merely narrowed his eyes as he grabbed the paint brush. "Walter, I think you missed a spot."

"No more paint war, boys," Natalia warned in a firm voice. "I would actually like to get these walls done."


"What are you guys doing out here?" asked Serena Flat a few days later when she and Thomas McArb entered the SLPD break room where Calleigh, Steve, Ross, and Dan stood.

"We have our own personal Geek Squad in to assemble the computers," Dan sighed. "It'll take them at least two days."

"And they don't want you guys in there or something," she raised an eyebrow as she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

"They apparently work better and faster with no one watching," Ross rolled his eyes.

"And we're trusting their guys to hook up our computers?" Thomas demanded incredulously.

"I know, but we don't have much of a choice," Calleigh said. "And at least now we can get a head start on ordering."

"That's what these are for?" Serena gestured to the pile of Firearms catalogs on the island.

"Yeah," Steve sighed, obviously less than thrilled it.

"Better you than me," she shrugged. "Have fun."

"Oh, yeah," Steve rolled his eyes.

"Good luck," Thomas said before he and Serena left.

Dan flipped through one of the catalogs and shook his head. "This is going to take forever."

"So we'd better get started," Calleigh said, pulling one of the books toward her.

"How much do we have left in the budget?" Ross asked, taking a seat.

"Depends on how much time it takes them to hook up the system," Calleigh replied

"So, we're supposed to order without a budget?" Dan questioned in disbelief.

"We can get an idea of what we want to order and work from there when we get the budget balanced," Ross sensibly suggested.

"I just hope these clowns don't purposely work overschedule just to get a bigger pay-up," he groaned.

Calleigh rolled her eyes, getting frustrated with all the negativity and moans; on a daily basis, the guys seemed to feel the need to complain about one thing or another and, in her eyes, that never accomplished anything. She excused herself to go into the hall, pulling out a crisp one dollar bill for the vending machine. She smoothed the wrinkled paper against the corner of the vending machine and inserted it into the slot.

She called for a bag of M&Ms and collected them as well as her change.

"Kind of early to be hitting the chocolate, isn't it?" Ricky asked as he approached her.

"No such thing," Calleigh shook her head. "Especially on days like today."

"Meaning?" he raised a confused eyebrow.

"Apparently, people hate ordering."

"Ordering?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Can't say I blame them."

"Sounds like someone's sick of the lab," he smirked.

"What was your first clue?"

Ricky laughed. "Well, we can always use a fresh set of eyes on an investigation. What do you say? Want to come see how St. Louis handles a crime scene?"

Calleigh looked back at the break room and said, "Let me get back to you on that."


After a brief conversation and compromise with the rest of her colleagues, Calleigh was permitted (under the promised she wouldn't collect any evidence) to go on the crime scene the CSIs were working. There was a rural patch of land just outside city limits and this was where the team at SLPD had to travel to find their dead body.

"Nice to see you out of the lab, Duquesne," Serena said with a smile as she snapped a shot of the slain biker, his motorcycle a short distance from his contorted body. Blood poured from the compression of his skull and his limbs were twisted in awkward positions.

"See, this is why we wear helmets," the Medical Examiner said as he worked over the body. The M.E had to be barely thirty with his hair was pulled back into a short blonde ponytail and appeared comfortable in his jeans/shirt ensemble. "Looks like blunt force trauma, broken neck and probably internal organ damage. I'll have to get him open to determine true COD."

"Check out these tires," Thomas called over from the motorcycle.

"What've you got?" Captain Sinise asked, looking over his team with his arms crossed.

"Punctures in the tires."

"Spike strip?" Calleigh suggested.

"More than likely," he nodded. Ricky had already started inspecting the road for the nearby strip before letting them travel to the side of the road. He pushed aside a nearby bush and shouted over, "Found it!"

"Bag it," Sinise said. Ricky photographed it before snapping on his gloves and collecting the evidence.

"Looks new," Ricky observed. "It couldn't have been there by mistake."

"Okay, get it back to the lab, start printing. Thomas, get the Harley to the garage. Serena, you and Jay look for more evidence," Captain Sinise ordered. Jay Clarkson was the detective of the team, Calleigh learned he was silent as far as socializing, but whenever giving orders and needing to make his position known, he could potentially break the sound barrier.

Calleigh lingered at the scene with Serena and Jay as they searched within the crime scene tape for further evidence. Jay stayed more to the side to search while Serena stood closer to her. Calleigh was secretly itching to snap on a pair of latex gloves and gather the evidence they found; one such piece was a gun just a little ways from where Ricky had found the spike strip, it was a nine-mil Kimber and the safety was off, something Serena quickly remedied.

"It's missing a round," Serena said, checking the magazine and the chamber. "Jay!" she called over to the detective. "I'm going to get Rick to print this then we need to get it to Jefferson."

Jay nodded, not speaking a word as he continued to look for any remaining evidence.

"Jefferson?" Calleigh asked.

"Neighboring county," she explained, placing the gun in an evidence container. "It's where we are getting our ballistics evidence tested."

"Right," Calleigh nodded, remembering how the firearms evidence had to be transported to a different lab for analysis.

"So we probably won't get results back for a few weeks," Serena mumbled, straightening up. "Our cases aren't exactly their priority."

"That's gotta be frustrating," Calleigh commented sympathetically.

"Well," she sighed. "It'll be worth it when that lab gets done."

Calleigh nodded.

"Maybe once it's done we'll be able to-." Serena caught herself, cleared her throat and recovered with, "maybe we'll get ahead in our cases."

Though Calleigh was certain that wasn't what she had been about to say.


"Okay, I managed to get one print from the strip," Ricky said, handing a printout of the AFIS hit to Captain Sinise while Calleigh observed.

"Peter Fox," Captain Sinise read.

"Yeah, in the system for petty theft he committed eight years ago," Ricky said.

Sinise turned to Calleigh. "You said Serena found a gun at the scene?"

"Yeah, a nine-mil with one round missing," Calleigh replied.

"I've got it right here, Cap," Ricky said, opening the evidence box. "This is what I don't get, this guy lays down a spike strip to assumingly kill the guy, so why bring a gun?"

"Well, assuming it's his gun, I'm more interested where that round ended up," Sinise said. "It wasn't in his body or the bike."

"I'll tell you what was found on his body," Thomas said as he entered the lab. "That compression from his head, it wasn't from the wreck."

"Then how'd it get there?"

"Don't know, but check this out," he said, holding up an X-ray. "See how the bone fractures in a curve that goes down at the same time on both sides? Wouldn't have that symmetry if he hit the direct ground head first."

"So something with that pattern hit him in the head and the blunt force trauma is what finished him off?" Ricky assumed; Thomas nodded.

"You know, a motorcycle helmet might have caused that compression," Calleigh unthinkingly interjected.

Captain Sinise took the scan of the head from Thomas and held it up to the light.

"Yeah, I see what you mean," he nodded.

"That could explain why there weren't any scrapes on his face," Thomas said. "He hits the strip and goes flying off his bike. It breaks his neck and limbs, but it doesn't kill him. So the killer decides to finish off the guy by taking the victim's helmet and bashing it against his head."

"Whoa, whoa," Captain Sinise stopped him. "Why go through all that trouble when he has a gun with him?"

"I think I have an idea," Ricky said as he took a part the gun. "Calleigh, you might want to take a look at this."

Ricky shined the light down the barrel of the gun and Calleigh leaned over to look inside; there were bulges of residue buildup down the tunnel that was the barrel.

"It's sinful for a gun to be this dirty," she shook her head sadly. "The gun could have misfired after the first round."

"Which brings us back to the question: where's the first round?" Thomas asked.

"Okay, get that gun printed and then have Jay get it to Jefferson. Thomas, go pick up our new friend, Fox," Captain Sinise ordered.


Thomas invited Calleigh to come with him to collect their suspect under the condition she remained in the passenger seat.

"It may not be an action packed adventure, but it's got to be better than doing ordering all day," Thomas said as they drove up to Peter Fox's house.

"True," Calleigh nodded.

"Be right back," he said, stepping out of the car and heading towards the house. Calleigh watched as he knocked on the front door and addressed himself as a police officer. He stood there before traveling to the garage on the side of the house; Thomas stepped into the garage and out of her line of vision.

There was a moment of silence, the sounds of cars, birds and people were eerily absent and it made her skin crawl. Then came the echoing sound Calleigh was all too familiar with; the bang of a gun being fired.

That's when her police officer instincts took over and she unthinkingly rushed out of the car pulling out the gun she had been permitted to carry as a precaution. She began to approach the garage when a figure darted out, a gun was in his hand.

"Stop right there!" Calleigh shouted. "Put that gun down!"

The man smirked and raised his hands above his head, but kept the gun in his hand.

"Slowly put that gun on the ground!" she commanded.

He simpered and began to place the gun on the ground, only to pivot and take off at a sprint in the other direction. Knowing she wouldn't be able to get a decent shot at the speed he was running there was no other choice to pursue the suspect and she bolted after him.

He came to a wooden fence that was taller than him and he would be forced to climb; he jumped to get a grip on the edge, splinters instantly penetrated his skin but he ignored the burn, knowing the woman behind him was right on his tail. He pulled himself up with difficulty, he felt the gun sliding from his hand and his arms shaking as he heaved himself up; clearly his upper body strength wasn't that of Superman

He thought he would be able to swing his leg over, but a pair of hands grasped his jacket and he was jerked down, his mouth becoming full of dirt and grass when he hit the ground.

Calleigh pulled the man's hands behind his back to restrain him as Thomas, to Calleigh's relief, limped toward her. One hand clutched his leg; Calleigh noticed he managed to create a tourniquet from his belt that halted most of the bleeding. In that moment as he approached her, they exchanged a look and something in Calleigh's eye told her this wasn't going to go over too well at PD.


"What the hell were you thinking?" Captain Sinise bellowed in his office when he got wind of what happened.

"I heard a shot and reacted on instinct," Calleigh calmly defended herself.

"Instinct?" he scoffed.

"You know when you're on the force for a while you develop certain instincts you just act on in certain situations," Calleigh replied.

"No, this is what I know," he said furiously, his arms crossed. "You were sent here to improve our Firearm facility, not chasing down our suspects."

An angry silence settled between the two; Captain Sinise ran a hand over the bald patch of his head, his eyes aflame.

"Listen, I'll clean this mess up; I know what was running through your mind when this when down. But I don't want you anywhere else but that lab from this point on. Are we clear?"

Calleigh narrowed her eyes. "Crystal," she replied icily before turning on her heel, exited his office and made a beeline for the Firearm lab; any place associated with guns would automatically bring her some form of peace and the ability to clear her mind.

Calleigh pulled opened the door and found to her surprise, and mild relief, was empty; the computer techs apparently decided to take their lunch break. She took a seat beside one of the partially assembled computers, still fuming from their conversation with Captain Sinise and needed a moment to gather her thoughts.

Very early on in her law enforcement career, Calleigh learned that instinct was one of the few allies one had in this line of work and it was essential to trust them and that was what she had done.

Calleigh realized this wasn't her jurisdiction and perhaps she was a little out of line pursuing Fox, but all she could think was that a killer was escaping from the grip of the law and she had the ability to stop him. The problem was manageable, fixable, and Calleigh accepted the fact she had broken the rules and there would be consequences. But Captain Sinise stood there and spoke to her as though she were a rooky just off Patrol who couldn't comprehend the rules and regulations of the department and that greatly frustrated the CSI of fifteen years.

The door opened and Calleigh turned to see Ricky stepping inside.

"I heard what happened, you okay?" he asked, his usual cocky tone dismantled to make way for authentic concern.

"Yeah," she nodded. "How's Thomas?"

"They stitched him up and gave him some painkillers; he'll be fine," Ricky assured.

"That's good," Calleigh grinned.

"Listen," Ricky sighed as he sat in a chair himself. "Sinise knows you were just doing what was best. If the situation was reversed, he would have done the same thing, so don't let him get to you."

"I'm not, it's just…frustrating, you know?"

"Yeah," Ricky nodded. "But the important thing is we got Fox alive and we can place the gun in his hands."

"His prints were on the gun from the scene?" she asked.

"Yeah, and we found the missing helmet from his house; there was a bullet lodged in it," he said. "Once we get a match on ballistics, he's not going anywhere for a long time."

Calleigh was comforted by the thought, but there was still something bothering her. There was an anxiety that lived in every member of the team and it always surrounded the Firearms lab; it had been something she was determined to find out and Ricky was her ticket.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked.

"Shoot," he said with a shrug of a shoulder.

"What's the big secret behind this?" Calleigh gestured to the room around her. "I mean, there seems to be more to this story than just wanting an improved lab."

Ricky licked his lips apprehensively and rubbed his palms together. "Well, I guess you should know," he sighed. "Okay, not too long ago, the captain had a wife, two sons, and a daughter. It was his second marriage and the two boys weren't his, but he loved them like his own. Then about two years ago, his daughter was a victim in a drive-by. She took a bullet to the spine; she was paralyzed and hasn't moved since."

"Oh my God," Calleigh shook her head in disbelief.

"Yeah," Ricky nodded. "We worked the case, but the bullet wasn't in IBIS, but we had a bunch of confiscated guns that could have been used in the shooting. Everything was so disorganized they didn't get test fired and compared to her case. By the time someone got around to it, the perp had vanished and Sinise's marriage had crumbled."

Calleigh nodded, starting to understand the passion the team felt about this lab. Calleigh had witnessed teammates of her own suffer traumatic experiences and then have a determination and a fire that hadn't existed prior to that event.

Suddenly, it all made sense.