HERE KITTY

Phoebe and Warrick took their break together when they were paged by Greg. On the way to the lab, they discussed the tiger hair. "How many places can you find a tiger in Vegas?" Phoebe asked Warrick.

"You'd be surprised. They're frequently used in stage shows and zoos." Warrick told her. "Then there are you're run-a-the-mill crazies who collect rare animals."

"I'll test if for dyes and concealants." Phoebe said. "That should tell us if it came off a live animal or a mounted centerpiece." Warrick nodded in reply as they entered the lab.

"What've you got for us, buddy?" Warrick asked.

"Results." Greg said, handing Phoebe a clipboard with some papers attached. "You had three different minerals on that guy's shoe. Sand, earth and powdered clay."

"Weird combination." Phoebe mused, looking over the results.

"Even weirder when you add in the fact that the sand was chemically died blue." Greg told her.

"Like those bottles of sand with all the colours?" Warrick asked.

"Exactly." Greg nodded. "The sand is dyed and then sealed to hold the colour."

"Anything else?" asked Warrick.

"The clay is store bought." Greg told them. "Expensive, too. Had all these chemicals in it to keep it from crumbling when it's moulded."

"Doesn't explain what its doing on this guy's shoe, though." Phoebe brought up.

"Anything on the bullet?" Warrick continued.

"Ah yeah." Greg said, turning and retrieving another sheet of paper. "Came from a handgun registered to a Michael White. No photo ID but he fits the description of your vic." He handed the printout to Warrick.

Warrick scanned it over. "Thanks, Greg."

Greg nodded. "You're welcome." Then he watched them both leave the lab.

"Here." Warrick handed the information on Michael White to Phoebe. "Why don't you go downtown and get Brass onto this? He might be able to locate the guy. I'll do that test on the tiger hair."

"By myself?" Phoebe asked quizzically. "Really?"

"Yeah." He patted her shoulder. "You'll be fine."

Phoebe managed to find her way to the police station without getting lost. She walked straight to Captain Brass's office, knocking on the door as she walked in. "Hello, hello!" She said brightly.

"Ah, Miss. Parker." Brass said with a smile. "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to run a search on this fellow." Phoebe said handing him the printout with of Michael's information. "We just pulled a bullet from his gun out of the marina body."

Brass nodded and started inputting the information into his laptop. "I'll see what I can find, but these things can take awhile."

They were interrupted by Phoebe's phone ringing. "Sorry." She checked the caller ID and say that it was Warrick. "I'll be right back." She said to Brass, exiting his office and going out into the hall. She answered her phone. "Yeah, Warrick?"

"You want the good news or the great news?" Warrick answered.

"Either or; take your pick." Phoebe replied.

"Good news; I tested the cat hair. Found traces of concealant. You were right; there's a stuffed tiger somewhere in Vegas missing a hair." Warrick said.

"How many taxidermists are there in Vegas that specialize in tigers?" Phoebe put to him.

"That's my next project." Warrick told her. "Okay, the great news? You ID'd our victim."

"I did?" Phoebe asked, confused. "Wait, what?"

"Your search on the DNA came up with a hit." Warrick told her.

"Really? I set that up hours ago; I gave up on it." Phoebe told him.

"Let that be a lesson to you." Warrick continued. "Anyway, our victim is a Mr. Harrison Jones. Some big shot business tycoon. The wife is on her way to ID the body so get back here as soon as you can."

"I will; thanks." Phoebe hung up the phone and went back into Brass. He was collecting a printout. He turned and handed it to her. It was a copy of a weapons license for Michael White; complete with photo ID.

"You're vic?" he asked.

"No." Phoebe told him. "But maybe our killer. Thanks."

Warrick had given up searching for taxidermists on the CSI database and had gone for the old-fashioned way instead; the Yellow Pages. He'd called six different places already but none of them had ever stuffed a tiger. He was called away from his searching when Mrs. Amanda Jones had come up from the morgue. She was waiting in the interview room when Warrick entered.

"Mrs. James? My name is Warrick Brown. I'm very sorry for your loss." Warrick told her as he sat down.

Mrs. Jones merely nodded. She was wearing a light blue, tailored pants-suit and her hair was pulled tightly back into a bun. She didn't look sad or traumatized. In fact, her face was expressionless. "What happens to my husband's body now?"

"Well, we can't release it until tomorrow." Warrick told her. "There's a lot of paperwork involved."

"Spare me the formalities, Mr. Brown." Amanda told him. "I'm a lawyer; I know the routine. All I want is to be able to bury my husband."

"Of course; I understand." Warrick told her. "But I need to ask you a few questions first."

"Fine." Amanda agreed.

Warrick continued. "Did your husband own a gun?"

Amanda nodded. "Yes. He kept it in an ankle holster or his desk in his office. He loved that thing."

"Did he have any enemies that you know of?" Warrick asked.

Amanda laughed dryly. "Mr. Brown, my husband was a very influential man. There was always someone trying to steal his thunder." She sighed. "But I can't name a specific person, no."

"Do you and your husband own any stuffed wild animals?" Warrick asked.

"You mean like a moose head? No." Amanda shook her head. "Harry found that kind of thing vulgar." A loud beeping sound went off and Amanda reached for her pager. "That's my office." She said, getting to her feet. "Are we done here?"

"One more thing, actually, Mrs. Jones." Warrick said, standing to stop her. "Do you know if your husband knew a man named Michael White?"

"I've never heard of him, sorry." Amanda replied as she dug around in her handbag for her cell phone. She was already yelling at someone on the other end of the line before she'd left the interview room.

Warrick sighed and went out into the hall. Phoebe was coming in his direction, but was looking at Mrs. Jones walk by. She turned to Warrick and pointed at Amanda. "Was that the wife?"

"Yeah." Warrick nodded.

"She looked...not sad." Phoebe looked back at her again.

"People deal with death in different ways." Warrick told her.

"Michael White is unavailable. His office claims he's not in, there's no answer at his home number and his cell goes straight to voicemail." Phoebe informed Warrick.

Warrick sighed. "So we got nothing?"

"Well, his secretary wouldn't give too much away but when I asked to speak with his wife, she told me he wasn't married." Phoebe said. "Other than that she was a total bitch."

"Alright, calm it down over there." Warrick told her. "Let Brass know; he might be able to grease the wheels."

"I already did, he's gonna call me if he gets anywhere." Phoebe told Warrick. "Did Mrs. Jones mention anything about a big-ass tiger?"

"No, she claims her husband found that kind of thing 'vulgar'." Warrick said. "And I haven't found anywhere in Vegas that stuffs tigers."

Phoebe closed her eyes in frustration. "Alright so we have a bullet and no gun, a hair with no body and our only lead is missing in action."

"Alright, let's just keep moving." Warrick said as they walked down the hall. "I'll keep searching for taxidermists. You go get us some coffee. It's gonna be a long night."

"Alright." Phoebe agreed. The pair of them parted ways. Warrick head for the lab while Phoebe went into the break room.

Nick was on his way out for the night as he passed the break room and saw Phoebe inside. He stopped to chat to her. "Hey." He said, sticking his head in the door.

Phoebe turned around. "Hey. Wow, you solved your case?" Phoebe asked.

"Yeah, the jeweler had everything in his store replaced by knock offs to fake a robbery and collect the insurance." Nick told her. "How's yours going?"

"Brick wall." She told him.

"Ah, sorry." He sympathized.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know of anywhere in Vegas that stuffs tigers, would you?" Phoebe asked on a whim.

"No, sorry." Nick said. "But, hey, there's a club downtown that has all these animal heads on the wall. Wild Hunt, I think it's called."

Phoebe raised her eyebrows. "Really? How'd you know that?"

"Well, they have this great lobster ravioli." Nick told her. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure." Phoebe waved him off. It was only when she took a drink of coffee that she realized what Nick had just said may have broken her case.