Audra flew to Las Vegas the following day. Her flight was supposed to have landed well before Nick's shift began, but it was delayed, so Nick directed her to the lab to pick up his spare house key. When she walked in she recognized Catherine from the last trip she made to see her little brother, which was when he was in the hospital recovering from dehydration and ant bites. She approached.
"Hello . . . it's Catherine, right?" she asked, waving a hand. "Catherine Wilson?"
Catherine turned to face her. "Willows," she corrected. "Can I help you?"
"I don't know if you remember me at all, but we met when my brother was in the hospital."
Catherine knew the lady looked familiar, but couldn't place her. "I'm sorry . . . what's your brother's name?"
Audra blushed a little. "Sorry – you probably meet a lot of people in the hospital. I'm Audra Stokes. My brother is Nick."
"Oh, right – I do remember you," replied Catherine with a smile. "I didn't know Nick was expecting anyone. Let me see if he's available." She invited Audra to follow her down the hall.
Nick's head was buried under the hood of a Grand Am in the garage when Catherine and Audra walked in. Catherine called his name, and he looked up. Wearing coveralls and grease stains on his cheeks, he smiled at them.
"Hey!" he called. "My two favorite redheads." He removed his work gloves and walked over to Audra.
Greg followed him, observing the smile on the face of the redhead he didn't know. "Who's the hot one, Nick?" Catching the withering look Catherine shot him, he made an attempt at correcting himself. "I mean . . . the tall . . . er . . . hot one."
He received another, more murderous look from Nick. "She's my sister," he spat.
Greg smiled. "Ma'am, you are way too good-looking to be related to this guy. It's nice to meet you." Greg was just as filthy as Nick, so instead of offering his hand, he nodded politely. "My name is Greg, and if you need someone to show you around the city, I'm available any time you are."
"Well Greg, my name is Audra, and that's sweet, but I think Nicky'll keep me plenty busy," she replied.
"The offer's open," he replied as he returned to the Grand Am.
Audra shook her head at him as he retreated, and then turned back to her brother. "Hi, Nicky," she said cheerfully, but otherwise didn't move.
Nick smirked. "Too afraid of a little dirt to give your baby brother a hug?"
"No, I just don't want any creepy I-see-dead-people cooties from you," she replied.
"Well I don't want any accounting nerd cooties from you," he shot back. "Catherine, have you met my sister?"
"We met when you were in the hospital," replied Catherine. "Surprise visit?"
"No . . . my flight was very delayed," replied Audra, rolling her eyes.
"Gotta love airline service these days," sympathized Catherine.
Nick turned to Audra. "Listen, I need to be here right now – Sanders needs my guidance, has trouble with hoods." He threw a smirk behind him in Greg's direction and hoped the younger CSI had heard. "Catherine, can you take Miss Audra to my locker and give her my extra house key? It's taped to the inside on the left."
Catherine smirked and shook her head. "Can't tear you boys away from your cars, huh?"
"Not even to take his big sister down the hall," Audra echoed her sentiments, shaking her own head. "Shameful, Nicholas."
Nick merely blew her a kiss and turned back to the garage. Catherine smiled and gestured in the direction of the locker room. "You oughtta tell on him," she joked.
Audra chuckled. "Nah. Cars were the only thing he and Billy ever agreed on – I'm sure there's some kind of nostalgia involved in working on a car with another guy . . . although I'm gonna guess he and that Sanders fella aren't trying to make it run."
"No, they're not," Catherine replied, smiling. They reached the locker room and she pointed out Nick's locker to Audra, who opened it with the combination Nick had given her earlier. Once she had the key and locked the lock, Catherine walked her back to the lobby.
"Catherine, may I ask you something?" she asked as they walked.
"About Nick? Sure."
Audra pondered a moment before she asked simply, "Is he okay? You know, after the . . . the whole box incident?"
Catherine raised her eyebrows. "Officially . . . he's fine. No performance issues, no lapses in judgment . . . not showing any signs of depression or PTSD . . . I'd say he's quote-unquote normal. He's still Pancho the Crimefighter," she smirked.
Audra smiled back, remembering their conversation in the waiting room at Desert Palms. "And . . . unofficially?"
"He's not the happy-go-lucky Nick he used to be," said Catherine, "although this job changes you whether you've been kidnapped and buried alive or not. But, off the record, he still has trouble sleeping. You can see it in his eyes. Things bother him now more than they used to. I think he's haunted, but honestly, Audra . . . I think he always will be, in some ways." She paused to think a moment, and then added, "Although, the last few months, he's been really cheerful. He's got his ways of coping – some must work better than others."
Audra knew exactly what his coping mechanism had been in the last handful of months, but didn't know how much Catherine knew, so she kept quiet. "Well, hopefully I'll hear more about it in the next day or so." She turned toward the door and then stopped, turning back. "Hey – thanks for keeping an eye on him."
"My pleasure," replied Catherine with a smile. "See you later."
Holly Hunter, Nick's realtor, had a list of eight houses for him to look at, but because of Audra's delayed flight the list had been cut to five. When Nick appeared at her office that Saturday morning looking tired with who she assumed was his wife in tow, he handed her an address and said he wanted to add it, if it was in his price range.
"It is, but it's on the higher end," she replied once she had pulled up the listing. "Although it's been on the market for several months, so it's possible they'll accept something lower. I'll need a moment to call the realtor to see if we can get in today, unless you can do it tomorrow."
"I'm going home tomorrow," said Audra, her accent considerably thicker than her brother's. "If we can get in to see it today, that would really be best."
"All right," she conceded. "I'll try to get a hold of the realtor once we get to the first house." They piled into her Expedition and set off for the first house. Once there, she began making phone calls as Nick and Audra looked around.
"You have to start looking at things differently," said his big sister as she began walking through the house. "Think about Cassie living here. She doesn't need a castle, but she does need someplace safe, with enough room – and she's not going to be eleven forever, you know. She's on the cusp of becoming a teenager."
Nick chuckled. "I know." They were looking at one of the bedrooms, and he tried to imagine Cassie in it. As a child, Nick had to share a room with his brother, and his sisters all bunked together – three in one room, two in another. He didn't really remember much about his sisters' rooms, as there was nothing contained therein to draw his interest, but he did remember that they were bright. The room he was standing in was decidedly not bright. He rumpled his brow and exited the room, looking around at the rest of the house. "It's too dark," he said.
"Good enough for me," replied Audra. "It's off the list."
When they arrived at the next house, Nick didn't even want to go inside. "Sorry," he said to Holly from the passenger seat. "I've been in this house."
She looked confused. "Oh," she said, taking her planner in hand and double-checking. "I'm sorry; I thought you hadn't looked at anything yet."
"I haven't," he agreed. "I've worked in this house."
Holly hoisted an eyebrow. "Worked?"
"Double homicide."
"Oh." Holly looked uncomfortable for a moment. "I see. Oh, that's right – you're the crime scene guy. Well . . . let me try that realtor again." She couldn't get her phone in her hand fast enough.
Nick smirked and turned to consider the neighborhood. It really was a shame, because the house was beautiful and the street was quiet, but he knew that every time he'd walk into that house, he'd see a man with a baseball bat laying face-down on the kitchen floor in a pool of his own blood, and in the master bedroom, his cheating wife with a hole in her head.
"We can head over to that house on Walnut Street," said Holly, hanging up her phone. "Apparently there's no lockbox, but I guess if we get there before the realtor does, we can ask the neighbor to let us in."
Nick smiled. "Perfect," he replied.
Unfortunately, the realtor arrived first and was waiting for them when they pulled into the driveway. Disinclined to speak with him as he was not a female district attorney with auburn hair and green eyes, Nick marched up the stairs to investigate the upper floor while Audra and Holly dealt with the realtor.
To his right was the master bedroom, which he entered, looked cursorily around, approved of, and exited. He found the bathroom, which would need a coat of paint (it was pink). The first bedroom to the left of the stairs, which faced the street, was a little on the small side, which he found disappointing. The bedroom to the right, however, was far more promising.
This was a room he could see Cassie in. It occurred to him just then that he'd have to buy furniture for her, which he knew would be an expensive prospect, but he was already thinking that the corner between the closet and the window would be a good place to put a desk for her. The room was bright and open and had a view of the back yard, which he still needed to investigate.
Heading downstairs, he made a pass through the kitchen to make sure the appliances all worked properly, and then stepped outside. There was nothing to the backyard except the patio and the pool, which was a moderate size. On the shallow end, there was a square whirlpool from which the pool extended and became wider as the water became deeper. The patio was covered by an overhang that extended from the house about eight feet and was supported by four square pillars, providing a good amount of shade. Everything appeared to be clean and well-maintained.
Audra stepped out onto the patio, Holly in tow. "What are you thinkin', Nicky?"
"It's nice," he replied. "What do you think?"
She agreed with him. "You could do much worse."
"They just dropped the price by thirty grand this morning," said Holly in a low tone. "For this neighborhood, it's a steal."
"I'll take it," he said.
Holly laughed, turning to Audra. "I assume you want to look at the other houses first?"
"Doesn't matter what I think," replied Audra. "I won't be living here."
Again, Holly became disquieted. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't realize you wouldn't be making this purchase together."
Nick smirked at Holly. "Miss Audra's my sister," he said. "Let's make the guy an offer – I'm done."
"Oh. Are you sure?" asked Holly.
"Yep," said Nick. "Easy morning's work for you."
Holly shrugged. "All right. Let me talk to the realtor and we'll get things settled." She headed back into the house, leaving Audra and Nick on the patio in the back yard.
"So, you'll have to furnish it, but it's a really nice place. If it's been on the market this long, they probably want to close as soon as possible. Depending on when you can get out of your lease-"
Audra was interrupted by a monstrous bark coming from the yard to the left of the house. Nick peered over the fence to see Ginger, who'd just been let out, chase what looked like a little gecko across the patio. He looked up to see Elizabeth in the frame of the patio door and waved with a smile. She waved back; Audra joined him at the fence.
"Holy Hannah, that's a big dog," she cried. Audra herself was not a fan of dogs, but had always had one – first, because of her brothers, and then because Sam was an animal lover. "Is it really necessary to have a dog that big? I mean, look at the thing. It's practically a horse."
"She's some kind of Great Dane mix," commented her brother, watching Ginger run around what was clearly her yard. This was nothing that anyone who'd ever seen a Great Dane couldn't extrapolate, so Audra thought nothing of the comment, and continued to watch the dog.
"So we're gonna go pick up Cassie before lunch, right?"
"Yeah, if they ever get done yappin' in there."
"It's only been ten minutes, Ninny. Hold your horses."
"Did she just call you Ninny?"
He cringed at the voice, throwing his sister a murderous look, which she chose to ignore as she turned around to see a woman in a flirty black skirt and casual white blouse cross the patio toward where they stood at the fence. Audra looked from the woman to her brother and grinned – his cheeks had turned pink.
"Yes, she did," replied Nick. "Thanks, Dadra."
"Oh, introduce me," she said, laughing, "since you obviously know each other."
Nick obliged. "Elizabeth Halles, this is Audra Stokes, my sister. Audra, this is Elizabeth Halles. She'll be my new neighbor."
"Really?" said Elizabeth with a smile as she shook Audra's hand. "You work fast. Did you even look at anything else?"
"One," replied Audra for him. "It was too dark, as I recall."
"You didn't like it either," he retorted in defense of himself.
"So how do you know your new neighbor – and her dog, apparently?"
"We work together," replied her brother.
"Fellow Crimefighter?" joked Audra.
Elizabeth chuckled. "In a way, I suppose. I'm the Clark County District Attorney."
If it were possible, Audra brightened even further. "Really? Our mother was the DA in Houston County for over 20 years."
"That's an impressive run," said Elizabeth. "I'm only on my first term, and I hope to be as fortunate as she was. You never told me your mom was an attorney, Stokes."
Her tone was teasing, lilting enough to make him wish that Audra weren't there. He shook his head and muttered that he didn't think it had come up. After a slightly awkward pause, he asked, "So . . . what are you doing home in the middle of the day?"
She grinned. "It's Saturday, Stokes."
"Oh, right," he said sheepishly as Audra tried to hide a snigger. "Well, I get easily confused." His sister outright laughed, so he gave her shoulder a gentle shove and clarified, "About which day it is!"
"Yeah . . . sure, Nick."
Elizabeth, who had managed to not laugh at Nick but had not been able to suppress her smile, decided to change the subject. "Anyway . . . I was just on my way to meet a girlfriend for lunch and had to let Ginger out before I left."
"She's got one hell of a bark," remarked Audra, still grinning, as she looked in the direction of Elizabeth's yard.
"She must've seen some kind of lizard," said Elizabeth, her tone even and light, but her eyes were locked on Nick, who, in his embarrassment, was looking over the back of the house. Most often when she saw him, he was wearing a suit, but today he was dressed in a pair of nicely fitting dark blue jeans and a red button down shirt. His casual attire and relaxed demeanor with his sister had her thinking that it would be really nice to have him for a neighbor. Not that the Andersens, who were now apparently selling their house to Nick, hadn't been perfectly pleasant, as afraid of her dog as they were, but she would welcome the addition of someone who knew her, who knew what her job was all about, to the gaggle of stay at home mothers who thought she should be married by now and their husbands who wanted to talk politics and secretly assumed she was gay.
Holly stepped out onto the patio then, brimming with the good news that the offer had been accepted and they could close as soon as feasibly possible. Before she could get into details about inspections, Elizabeth excused herself. "I need to get Ginger in the house and meet my friend. But hey – congratulations, and I'll see you soon . . . and it was nice to meet you, Audra." They waved to each other as she entered the house again to pass through and cross the lawn to her own house.
Nick vaguely listened to Holly, preferring instead to watch Elizabeth usher Ginger back inside. In Holly's Expedition on the way back to her office, she promised paperwork by the day's end and constant updates.
Once they had transferred from Holly's vehicle to his, Nick turned the engine over and rolled the windows down to let the air conditioner blow the stale air out of the truck. He then turned to Audra. "I'm waitin', Dadra."
She turned in her seat. "For what, Ninny?"
"For you to tease me."
She couldn't help a slightly wicked grin. "You like that girl."
He laughed and shook his head. "I've worked with her since I moved here," he said, sounding a little confused. "I haven't always liked her."
"Oh, you like everything with a decent set of hooters," she shot back. "Listen, Sicky Nicky . . . I can't explain this for you. As we've discussed many times in the past, love happens when it happens."
"I didn't say I was in l-"
"Fine – like happens when it happens. And as for you waiting for me to tease you . . . I don't know if I can."
"Yes you can," he countered. "Nothin's ever stopped you before."
"I'm serious, Nick," she said, her eyes wide. "You're the baby of the family and I never really expected you to settle down at all. Your head's always been full of pretty redheads, and baseball, and science. Now all of a sudden you're pregnant with an eleven year old, and you like a girl with a career and a house and the ability to cover up her cleavage. It's a lot to take in all at once."
He laughed at her, moving to roll up the windows. He didn't know what to say to her, so he reached across the seat and embraced her.
"I'm proud of you, Nick," she said when he pulled away.
He nodded, looking away to watch the sun-baked parking lot in front of them. "Thanks, Audra."
She slapped his thigh to break the emotional tension in the truck. "Now – take me to my new niece."
He smiled. "Yes, ma'am."
Audra had loved Cassie from the moment she laid eyes on her in Emily Patterson's dusty driveway – secretly, Nick had expected nothing less. Audra didn't have five children by accident – had they come to her one at a time, she still would've had a big family. When she went home he'd called his other four sisters and told them about Cassie. These were exhausting, repetitive conversations, particularly when he talked to Lauren, the psychologist, who had extra questions and explanations for his behavior that he didn't really need. He stalled talking to Billy by waiting to call until he knew Billy wasn't available. This strategy was successful for a handful of days.
The Thursday following Audra's departure, however, his luck ran out, and Billy answered the phone.
"Bill Stokes."
Nick cringed. "Hey, Billy . . . it's Nick."
"Hey, Nick!" said his brother. "How's the grunt work going?"
Nick knit his brows together. "The what?"
"The grunt work – you know, the fingerprints and spit and whatnot."
"Oh . . . you're making fun of my job again. Right – that's original."
"Well, I happen to be doing my job at the moment – you always call at the most inconvenient times," said his brother with humor in his voice. "I'm in the courtroom waiting for a proceeding to begin."
"Yeah . . . I know what those look like. Hey, if you just have a couple of minutes, I have some news for you."
"Are you getting married?"
Nick chuckled humorlessly. "No . . . I'm not getting married."
Billy sounded impatient when he replied, "Then what could it possibly be?"
Taking a deep breath, Nick commenced the short-short version of the Cassie story. "I met a little girl working a case not far from here . . . her parents had been murdered-"
"And what, you're adopting her?"
Nick was quiet a moment. "Well . . . yeah, actually."
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah. Why would I joke about something like that?"
"I don't know. How old is she?"
"She's eleven . . . almost twelve."
Billy paused, for far too long in Nick's opinion. "So . . . you're going to be a dad." There was forced enthusiasm in his voice.
"Yeah," replied Nick, biting his lip. "In a way." He waited nervously for Billy to say something else.
"Well, that's great, Nick. That's . . . really great."
"Thanks, Billy," he replied softly, knowing there was more coming.
"Nick, are you sure you're not gay?"
Nick closed his eyes and pulled his phone away from his ear in disgust – he was so tired of hearing this from his own brother. He vaguely heard phrases like "You're over forty" and "Not married, no girlfriend" and when he put the phone back, it was to hear Billy continue, "Because if you are . . . it's cool, you know? I mean, it'll take some time for Dad to get used to it, but he's getting up there in years-"
"Billy, I am not having this discussion with you."
"I'm just saying-"
Nick decided to change the subject. "Her name is Cassie."
"What?"
"Her name's Cassie. The little girl I'm adopting, her name's Cassie."
"Oh, right. She's eight?"
"Eleven."
"Eleven . . . wow. That's really great. She's probably the only girl you'll ever have in your life. Look, I need to work, okay, because it's ten AM and most people are working right now. But congratulations, Nick – we'll talk more soon." He hung up before Nick could say another word. Growling in anger, Nick chucked his phone onto the couch, off of which it bounced and then landed with a thud on the floor.
He considered calling Audra to vent, but didn't want to talk any more. He went for a run instead. When he got back, he was bright pink with heat and dripping sweat, and stood under a cold shower for fifteen minutes trying to cool off. The run had helped to calm him down, and the icy water had a numbing effect on both his over-heated skin and his anger. He was exhausted by the time he stepped out of the shower, and fell asleep unintentionally on his bed, still wrapped in his wet towel.
At six o'clock he woke to his phone ringing. Shivering and dazed with too much sleep, he answered. "Stokes."
"Pancho, it's your dad."
"Hey Cisco."
"I heard about your phone call to Billy."
"Yeah? Did he tell you what he said to me?"
"No one thinks you're not a man, Pancho," replied Bill in a well-practiced please-stop-having-this-fight-with-Billy tone. "No one thinks you're . . . you know . . . that way. He just thinks you're rubbing it in a little – you gettin' to be a dad to someone."
"One phone call and I'm rubbin' it in? Seriously?"
"C'mon, Pancho . . . you know how much Billy wanted kids."
"It's not my fault that he made a poor choice of wife," replied Nick incredulously. "It's her that doesn't want them – he should dump her and find someone who wants kids."
"It doesn't work that way, Nicholas," said his father, who only ever called his youngest son by his given name if he was annoyed with him. "You're not married; you don't understand. Billy loves Missy."
"I don't think she returns the favor."
"Whatever you may think of her, she's your brother's wife and you'll respect her," said Bill more sharply than he really meant to.
Nick wanted to throw his phone, but years of conditioning made him answer on autopilot with a firmly clenched jaw. "Yes, sir."
"Pancho," said Bill, pleading in his voice, "I know you don't like her, but your persistence in believing that she's somehow doing your brother wrong has got to stop. This has been goin' on for long enough."
Angry with his father, Nick retaliated. "I know what I've seen, sir."
"But you misinterpret things. It's been this way since you started playing baseball, and Nick-" Bill stopped himself with a frustrated sigh. "I don't want to this to go on between you and Billy. You're brothers, for God's sake. You need to let it go."
Nick cleared his throat, clenching his jaw again. "Could you at least say that he was wrong to take his frustration out on me?" He knew he sounded like a little boy pleading for candy, but he couldn't help it.
There was silence on the phone, again for far too long. "Look, Pancho . . . ."
"Never mind."
"It's just that you should've let your mother tell him."
"Yeah . . . I, uh . . . I need to go to work now."
"Work? It's just after six."
Hurt, Nick spit his brother's words back at his father. "Yeah, well . . . lots to do. Lots of fingerprints to dust . . . spit to collect . . . grunt work to do."
Bill sighed. "Pancho . . . ." Nick let the appellation linger in the tension between them. No matter what his father said now, he wouldn't return it. "I guess I'll talk to you later."
"Yeah. Good night, sir."
"Good night, Pancho."
(c) 2008 J. H. Thompson