Nick had to admit, it did feel really good to get out of the house...both his and Warrick's. He and his friend had left the lab and gone to eat at a nearby burger place and were now sitting at a table outside with their food. For all his protesting about not being hungry, Nick seemed to be enjoying the large sized value meal he had ordered.
"Told ya you were hungry," Warrick mumbled through a mouthful of his own sandwich. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he swallowed. "You need to listen to me more often."
Nick gave him the finger as he drained the last of his drink from the cup, the straw making a loud sucking sound.
"What do you want to do tonight? Just hang out at my place?"
"That sounds good." Nick sat up straighter in his chair with a sigh and a slight grimace.
"You okay?"
"Yeah..." Nick put his left hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it. "Just tired."
Warrick looked at his friend's other hand, still covered with the splint. "How's that wrist doin'?"
"Hurts," Nick said simply. "Like everything else."
"Didn't take anything for it today, did you?"
Nick shook his head. He was glad when Warrick did not press the issue, so he said, "I'll use 'em when we get back...take the edge off."
That seemed to satisfy Warrick. But he had something else he needed to say. After leaving the lab, he had been reluctant to give Nick the new information he had received from Mandy about the print results. His friend still seemed in shock from all that they had discovered at his house earlier, and Warrick didn't want to pile anything else on top of it. But he was going to have to tell him eventually, and he knew Nick would appreciate him being upfront about it. "So, uh...I ran into Mandy while I was at the lab."
"Yeah?" Nick wiped his mouth with a napkin.
"Yeah. She asked about you...said a bunch of other people were wondering...hope you're doing okay."
"Shit...I forgot. I had some messages on my phone the other day."
Warrick waved him off. "It's cool. They know you've got a lot going on. So anyway, she had some print results from the house."
At that, Nick perked up. "And?" Warrick didn't look or sound very enthusiastic, so Nick didn't have his hopes up very high. His suspicion proved correct when Warrick continued speaking.
"The place was clean, man. His prints were found around where he'd be installing the cable, including the attic window where he went in and out and the panel in the closet, but nowhere else."
Nick gave him a hard stare. "Then he wiped the place," he said evenly. "Or he wore gloves. Like the ones he wore at Jane's. The ones I found at his apartment." The ones that weren't there when Catherine and Grissom went back to look for them, he thought ruefully.
"He probably did," agreed Warrick. "Look, let's wait and see what she gets off the stuff I just gave her before we get too worked up over it, okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah…sure," Nick said hesitantly as he stood up. "You ready?"
Warrick sighed, wishing he could have told Nick some better news instead. "Yeah. Let's go."
That evening the two men stayed up later than usual just talking about anything except the case and watching movies. Warrick had to work the next night so he wanted to stay up late enough so that he could sleep well into the next afternoon. And Nick…well, Nick was just plain tired of sleeping all of the time. He knew part of it was the concussion and part of it was the medication, but he still felt like he should be feeling better by now. When they were finally ready to retire for the night, Nick took the couch, insisting that Warrick use the bedroom to get some much needed rest before his shift.
Two days later Warrick came home from work in the morning to find Nick sitting on the couch flipping channels on the television, the same as he'd found him the previous couple of mornings. He shut the front door behind him and sighed. "Mornin'."
"Hey," Nick answered without looking up.
"How long you been up?" Warrick plopped himself down in the chair next to the couch.
"I dunno...couple hours?" He turned the TV off and threw the remote onto the coffee table.
"I'm sorry, man. I know you must be bored out of your skull here."
"Yeah." Nick yawned and stretched his arms over his head.
Warrick noticed something. "You're not wearin' the splint on your wrist. Feelin' better?"
Nick shrugged and looked at his arm. He would have thought it impossible, but somehow it looked even worse than it had a few days ago...still swollen and covered in a variety of colors and shades. "It's all right. I just got tired of that thing." It was quiet for a moment between the two of them before Nick spoke again. "I talked to Grissom last night."
"You did?" Warrick raised his eyebrows in surprise. "He didn't say anything to me."
"You aren't even working on this case anymore, are you?"
"No, but..." It was true. Since that fateful night at Nick's house there had already been two homicides, an arson, and numerous assaults added to the crime lab's work list. The CSIs had all moved on to other cases already. "Still...I figured he'd keep me posted on it. What'd he say?"
"He said I could go back home now."
Warrick let out a laugh before he even had time to think about it. "He what? Is he crazy or somethin'? He saw your place. Even if the scene's been released..."
"It has."
"Even then...you can't go back there while it's all messed up like that. Do you even want to?"
"I got a guy...friend of mine..." Nick said, avoiding the question. "He does drywall and stuff...said he could get that hole patched up in a couple of hours. He's gonna come by later today and take a look."
"Come by? So you're going over there?"
Nick nodded. "I'm feeling better, and I've been here long enough."
"Nick..."
"I have to." Nick sat up straighter on the couch and shook his head. "That little psycho piece of shit cable guy is not keeping me out of my house."
"Nick...you don't have to prove anything to anybody. Nobody would blame you if you didn't feel comfortable there anymore."
"I'm not gonna know unless I try."
Warrick knew he wasn't going to be able to change his mind. It was Nick's decision to make, and he knew he had to let him make it and do this on his own, for better or for worse. He sighed. "All right, man. Whatever you wanna do. You know I got your back, right?"
Nick smiled and laughed a little. "Yeah. Thanks, man. For everything."
"No problem. So...what else did Grissom say?"
"Said he wanted to talk to me. In person." Nick grew a little more somber now.
"You goin' down there?"
"Yeah...tonight I guess...after I check out my house."
The light knock on the door frame drew Grissom's attention up from the paperwork he was reading, and he saw Catherine standing in the doorway.
"Got a minute?" she asked.
"Sure." He took off his reading glasses and motioned for her to take a seat across the desk. "Did Greg get anything off of the hair you collected for the Baxter case?"
"A couple of them had tags, but the DNA was compromised by the bleach. He's kicked them over to trace to see if we can get a fix on the product used on it."
"Good. Make sure they cross-reference it with the residue we got off of the seat cushion," he said, putting his glasses back on and turning back to his papers.
"I will. So...we got some more print results from Nick's case."
Grissom raised his eyes from the desk to look at her over his glasses. "I thought everything had already been processed. All clean. No prints."
"Well, yeah..." she said. "The stuff webrought in. But Warrick dropped some more stuff off the other day.
"Catherine, I thought we'd finished that investigation. The D.A. has already determined what charges he's going to file based on the evidence we've given him."
"It's nothing probative to the murders. It's related to the stalking. Warrick and Nick went back in there to have a look...more for Nick's piece of mind than anything."
"It's a good thing it's not related to the murders," Grissom said, obviously upset. "I hadn't even released the scene yet, Catherine...and Nick wasn't officially on duty...this could have compromised the whole case."
"Look, Gil...if you want to get mad over it, get mad at me, not them. I'm the one that told Warrick he could keep looking around...see if we missed anything."
"And Nick?"
"He's the only one who could tell if anything was out of place...not you, not me. I thought maybe if there was something else there...it might be something only Nick would notice."
Grissom sighed and took off his glasses again. "What did they find?"
"A stash of stuff in a box in the closet." Catherine was beginning to regret her decision to talk to him at all. First he had seemed annoyed that they had continued looking into the case without his knowledge, then angry, and now he seemed indifferent. "Stuff we missed," she added to emphasize her earlier argument about why Nick and Warrick should have been allowed in the house to look.
Now he appeared to be more interested as he raised his eyebrows at her statement. "Like what?"
"Random, weird stuff," she answered. "There was a cup with a bunch of Nick's stuff in it. An old toothbrush, grocery receipt, dental appointment card, bottle opener…stuff Nick probably wouldn't really have missed."
"Is he sure it's not just stuff he put away and forgot?"
"Yes, he's sure. And it's creepy as hell, Gil. There was even a ticket stub from when he went to a movie the other night…and a second stub. Crane followed him there and went to the same movie. That's just…" She visibly shuddered.
"You said you got some print results from this stuff?"
"Well…sort of. All of these things were clean too," she sighed. "…except for Nick's prints."
Grissom stared at her and waited for her to add something else, but she didn't. "That's it? Some more items with no prints on them?"
"Still…it shows Crane was definitely stalking Nick…more than just being there the night Pearson died, and more than just hacking into his computer."
"Catherine, there's no proof that Crane took that stuff and stashed it there. None."
Exasperated, she rolled her eyes at him. "You know he did it."
"Knowing it and proving it are two different things. It's a good thing the D.A. isn't pressing charges on the stalking, because Crane would walk for sure." He put his glasses back on and leaned back in his chair. "What about the computer? Has Archie finished processing it yet? We need to get the information from that email with the photo…the one Crane used to pose Jane's body."
Catherine shook her head. "He's still working on the videos from Crane's house. He's going to do the computer next."
"Good. Anything else?"
"No." She stood up and headed for the door but stopped and turned to look at him. "But, Gil…"
He looked up at her. "Yes?"
"I heard you called Nick to come in later to talk to him."
"I did."
"Do me a favor. Try acting a little more concerned about this with him than you did with me. Okay?" She turned and left the room without waiting for an answer.
"That sucks, man. Sure you don't want to tell me how it happened?"
Nick looked on as his friend stared up at the hole in the ceiling and then back at the broken front door frame. Nick had been glad to see him waiting outside when he pulled up to the house, because it meant he wouldn't have to go inside by himself. "It's kind of personal, Andy. Sorry."
"No problem," the affable man answered, eyeing Nick's bruised arm as he did. "Well…" He looked up at the ceiling again. "I've got the stuff out in the truck…enough to patch that hole up. I'll have to come back a few more times to get the texture on it done though."
"That's fine. Thanks, man…I really appreciate it."
"Not sure I can get the door all the way done today, but I can nail some two-by-fours up there and put a deadbolt on for now. That ought to hold you 'til I can get the frame fixed."
Nick nodded and took a sideways glance at the door. He didn't want to appear overly concerned about it, but he knew he wasn't going to let his friend leave until he was satisfied that the door was sturdy enough and locked completely. "Yeah, that'll be good."
Nick sat down on the couch and talked to Andy as he worked, catching up on things that had happened in their lives since the last time they'd seen each other. Nick conveniently left out some of the things that had happened to him recently…the things that had been the reason for having to call his friend for help in the first place. But it was a good diversion from thinking about those things, and he actually felt good for the couple of hours it took Andy to finish patching up the ceiling and another half an hour to fix the door. But now he was packing up his things to leave.
"The ceiling's gonna need a while to dry completely, and I've got some other jobs I'm working on, so how about if I come back next Saturday and finish the texture? I can probably get the door done then too."
Nick followed him to the door. "Yeah, that'll work. Thanks again."
Andy grinned and shook his hand. "Anytime, man. Hey, maybe you'll go a little easier on me next time we play hoops."
"Dream on," Nick laughed. He stood in the open doorway and watched as Andy got into his truck and backed out of the driveway. Once the vehicle was out of sight, Nick stepped back into the house and closed the door, sliding the new deadbolt shut.
"My name is Pearson…Morris Pearson!"
He shook off the déjà vu feeling and walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. His eyes wandered upward, and he breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the freshly repaired ceiling. It was still obvious that some work had been done, but at least the damn hole was gone. He looked at the floor next. Andy had been nice enough to clean up the mess there too. There was no trace left to signify that something awful had happened there. Except one.
Nick stood up from the couch and went to the middle of the room before getting down on one knee. Just as he had when he and Warrick were there, he ran his hand across the carpet, passing over the green hue of the large letter "T". He sighed and stood up again, moving to the edge of the carpet where he bent over and grasped the edge of it with both hands. Working quickly, he rolled the carpet up, moving swiftly across the floor until the farthest edge was pulled up and over the rest of the rug. He lifted the roll up and onto his shoulder, then carried it out the front door and dropped it unceremoniously onto the curb by the mailbox. The next day was trash pick-up day. He stood there for a moment and looked up one side of the street and then down the other, then turned and went back into the house.
Apologies for the length of time between updates. If you've been wondering when Crane will appear again, stay tuned. We're about to get into the meat of this story. I hope you'll stick with it, and please leave a note to let me know you're reading and what you think. I really appreciate it! :-) Thanks!
ADDITIONAL NOTE 8-6-12: I added some more to this chapter after publishing. I had neglected to include repairing Nick's front door, so that has been added. I'm a stickler for details, so there you go. ;-)
