Title: By Design, Chapter 10

Author: Sorsha_711
Fandom/Pairing: CSI; Brass/OCF
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult situations
Disclaimer: A quick check of my bank account should prove I'm not making anything off of writing my stories. Sigh! Anything you recognize belongs to the good people that bring us CSI.
Summary: A serial killer is stalking the streets of Vegas… hell of a time for Brass to meet the woman of his dreams.

By Design, Chapter 10 --- The Captain and the Naughty Delivery Girl

-----

"If he's a customer of their employers… or has a business connection that brought him in contact with his victims, it's possible he's still going to the places where they worked. He may even get a perverse thrill out of going back… remembering what he did to them," Vartann speculated. "Maybe we need to cross-reference client lists."

The investigation into the Roadside Stranger case had entered its fourth month without any significant break. The team of detectives working the case met each morning as the graveyard shift yielded the watch to days to discuss tactics and update each other of new information. Answering Brass's list of unanswered questions had become their primary focus.

"I doubt the dentist is going to share his patient list without a court order," Jim observed, "and a deli isn't likely to have one."

"Yeah, same with the dry cleaner," Joe grumbled, before adding, "but they would have regular suppliers… deliveries, that sort of thing. I know we've been down that road, but we need to go back and cross-check the list against companies that we can link to the other places this guy has hit now that we have the files from the Gulf. Some of these companies are national. Killer could be a transfer."

"Good point."

"A real estate company isn't likely to do business with a restaurant supplier," Sam pointed out. "We've tried to pin down the services they would all use… UPS, Fed-X… an accountant… nothing popped."

"Since the killer is wearing heavy-duty work clothes… and he's driving a utility style of van, we need to see if any of these businesses had any repair work done before the victim was grabbed… maybe HVAC or plumbing… electrical… remodeling work. Add in work at their homes… hell adjacent businesses if they're close enough for someone to spot one of our vics," Jim ordered. "We need to look at utility crews… include city work crews in the area."

"The dentist's office where Cecelia Chambers worked was in a new strip mall," Sam offered, flipping through his notes. Tapping the pad to underscore he had found what he was looking for, he added, "They moved into their suite of offices less than two months before Cecelia was killed. Part of that complex was still under construction… a few of the units were being remodeled for the tenants, so there were plenty of work crews in the area."

"The insurance agency where Angie worked is in an older part of town," Sofia mused. "I don't recall seeing much construction activity in the area when I did the canvas, but I do remember there was a street crew working down the street… repairing a water or sewer line. The traffic was snarled and I had to cut down an alley to get to the scene… wasted a lot of the morning waiting for people stuck in traffic. Anyway, I'll double-check… I can't remember the details."

"Tina was in real estate so she was in and out of a lot of places where construction was occurring," Jim added. "The house she was supposed to show the day she disappeared was next door to a construction site. I talked to the foreman… got a list of the workers on his crew, but nothing popped. I followed-up on the subcontractors… nothing, but I have all those names for comparison."

"Utilities?"

"No, but that shouldn't be too hard to nail down," he observed, adding the utilities angle to his list of follow-ups. "I talked to the pool man and the landscaping firm that takes care of the lawn; anybody I found associated with either house had alibis."

Looking up to fix them each with a stern stare, he ordered, "Let's follow this angle hard. I want each of you to shake the trees, beat the bushes, whatever it takes… see what pops. We'll compare notes in a few days and look for anything in common."

"If it would help, I can following up on Sam's idea about the client list angle for the ones that would have one… the dentist, the insurance agency, the cleaning company," Sofia offered, knowing from experience that type of inquiry was easier for someone working days. "If we can find names they all of them have in common… it's more than we have now."

"Thanks. I'll talk to the DA and see what he can come up with to help you get those lists. I'll call you once I have a warrant," Brass agreed, jotting down notes on their discussion. "What else?"

"Sanders and I followed up the possibility the killer's sabotaging their cars to give him an opening to get close and grab them," Sam offered. "Both Cecelia Chambers' car, a '02 red Corolla, and Lindsey Plano's… a '94 blue Wrangler, had broken rear headlights. No broken glass was recovered near either car, so we initially assumed the damage wasn't relevant to their disappearance."

"What about the other cars?" Brass demanded, his pulse jumping at the news they may have their first real clue of how the killer managed to grab his victims.

"Well, we don't have that many to work with, but Jackie Miley's '02 Escort had been keyed along the entire driver's side," he offered. "Donna Paulson drove a '06 Honda Civic. It had a dead battery… lights left on in the employee parking lot at the Bellagio. Leann Sullivan drove a'98 Pontiac Grand Prix… it had a dent on the rear driver's side door. There wasn't any sign of rust or oxidation on the metal around the dent, so Sanders says it hadn't been there too long before her death."

Looking up to meet his supervisor's gaze, Vega concluded, "All of these cars are older models… this type of damage is pretty common, but I think it's a strong likelihood the damage is tied to their abductions."

"Yeah," Brass agreed, "…that's not a coincidence that I'm not willing to ignore. Check for incident reports involving women… late teen's to early 30's with complaints of minor vandalism to their cars. Maybe someone got a bad vibe… had a close encounter of the creepy type with our killer and filled a report."

"Creepy guys hitting on pretty women… that could be a long list," Sam observed, as he made a note to follow-up on those reports, "…this is Vegas."

"That's a safe bet," Jim agreed. "Let me know what you get. We can refine the search if we have to, but let's leave it wide open for now. Once you have a list, I'll find you some help running down the women that filed the reports. This gets priority since its one of the best leads we've got."

Seeing his detective nod, Jim prompted, "Other ideas?"

"Maybe we can set-up surveillance… get a line on patrons frequenting some of the businesses that get a lot of walk-in trade," Sofia mused. "The deli and the coffee shop would be the best since they are the most likely places for him to go regularly and they aren't close enough to get a lot of cross traffic. If we can get a camera in place at both, we might get lucky."

"Good idea," Brass agreed. "I'll talk to Grissom and see what he can arrange."

-----

"Capt. Brass?"

Looking over at the intercom on his desk, Jim frowned as his concentration was broken. "Yes?"

"There's a lady at the front desk to see you… a Ms. Edgers," the front desk receptionist replied, curiosity clearly coloring her voice. "She says she brought you lunch."

A grin transformed his tired continence at this bit of unexpected news. "Send her back, Alice."

Rising to walk down the hall to meet her, Jim felt some of the strain and stress of orchestrating the activities of the growing investigation ease at the news of her unexpected visit. Several cold cases in other jurisdictions had also been linked to their investigation, verification pending further review. The Sheriff had established a task force to track their killer with Brass as the lead detective. Since they were working the most recent murders, the other jurisdictions had agreed to accept his leadership. That didn't mean there hadn't been turf issues and personality clashes. He had worked more than a few doubles recently trying to keep all of the members of the task force moving in the right direction.

Sadly, he had also been forced to cancel several dates with Casey over the past couple of weeks. Between his schedule and hers, he had more than met her original 'date quota' without breakfast being on the agenda… breakfast after a night spent in one of their beds, not when they met before she went to work and he went home to crash for a few hours. Make-out sessions in the front seat of his car were hardly satisfying at this point in his life.

Her surprising him with 'lunch' at 3 in the morning meant a lot. The early hour on Saturday morning meant she would be sleeping well into the afternoon once she got home. That was her cleaning the house and running errands time each week, so he knew she would be scrambling for the rest of the weekend. /I've never met anyone as organized and efficient as she is!/

A smile warmed his face as he saw her round the corner and walk toward him, smirking at the curious looks being turned in her direction. The kiss he greeted her with no doubt answered some of those silent questions… then, raised twice as many. He could hear the gossip starting… /That's Brass' woman??? She's a total babe!!! How did he snag her?/

Once he had reluctantly released her lips, she grinned. "I thought you might be hungry since you missed dinner."

"Oh, I'm hungry… but the break room may not be the best place to discuss all of those appetites," he whispered against her ear.

"Behave, Captain. You need to set a good example," she teased, before walking past him down the hall.

His amused laughter followed her progress… causing her to come to an abrupt halt as the fact that she didn't know the way to the break room suddenly occurred to her. Looking back, she demanded, "Well… little help here."

Still laughing, he moved to her side and took the bags from her hand. "This way, Beauty."

Curling her hands into the curve of his arm… making no effort to hide the possessive quality of her touch, she purred, "Oh, I love a man that takes charge."

"Glad to hear it," he responded, energized by her touch and the proprietary attitude it conveyed. Hefting the bags, Jim asked, "How much food did you bring?"

Smiling she offered, "I didn't know who might be around and hungry, so I brought extra. I didn't want to get sent to the Captain's office for not bringing enough for everybody. Delivery girls have to be careful about things like that."

Tilting his head to catch her gaze, he complained, "The Captain might have enjoyed dealing with a trouble making delivery girl."

"Maybe, but the Captain has an office surrounded by glass walls," Casey observed. "Delivery girls are modest and don't like an audience."

"Neither does the Captain," he agreed, with a sigh.

Her soft, "Maybe it's time for the Captain and the delivery girl to discuss doing something about that… running off somewhere without windows, watchers, or work," teased at his ears, causing a rush of arousal to flow through his veins.

Clearing his throat… then clearing it again, he murmured, "Does the delivery girl have any suggestions for the details… you know the where, when… can they leave right now?"

"Sorry… the LVPD frowns on its officers leaving mid-shift looking for a windowless room for a little personal time. That's not what they mean by public service." Squeezing his arm, she offered, "Let's fix our lunch and then we can make some plans, Captain. I think a weekend trip so you can rest and relax is in order. You've been working too hard lately and need some down time."

"Works for me… although resting and relaxing aren't at the top of my 'things to do' list."

"Umm… tell me more…"

-----

"I heard from my buddy over at the Cyber-Crimes Task Force," Jim announced, as he took a seat at the conference table. "They found several auction lots on various online auction sites that fit our list of missing personal effects."

Grissom opened the folder Brass slid in his direction. "Can we tie those sales to our crime scenes?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he hedged, "I'm feeling optimistic but we still need you to work your magic. I've made a couple of calls to the police in the jurisdictions where the items were sent asking their help in recovering them for us. I told them we would return any item cleared from involvement in our case at our expense."

"They need to try and get the buyers not to report our investigation to the auction sites until we track our guy down," Gil urged. "Last thing we need is for someone to tip him off we're on to his selling the stolen items."

"I made that point as strongly as I could," Brass confirmed. "The Sheriff and DA are making some calls to their counterparts asking for their help in reinforcing the message."

Leaning over to look at the list, Catherine asked, "What do we have to work with? Anything we that give us a print or a DNA sample?"

"Couple of the missing pieces of jewelry… one that's got to be Cecelia's cross from the inscription… ring that sounds like the one Angie Simmons was wearing," Gil listed. "A Zune… a couple of laptops… Coach handbag. Three sellers, all with Vegas addresses selling this exact list if goods… sounds promising. Do we have a lead on the seller?"

"The Cybercops tried to trace the seller using his account info," Jim offered. "He's using email addresses from sites like Yahoo and Hotmail, so we can't tie him to a physical address. IP traces on those accounts show he accessed the web from cyber cafes and library terminals. Nothing so far that helps us find him, but they're still looking."

"Some of those places should have surveillance cameras," Gil suggested.

"I've already requested the tapes. Given how long its been since the last time he used those accounts, not likely they'd still have the footage," Brass complained, "but, still worth the effort. Maybe we'll finally get lucky."

"We're definitely overdue for a few breaks," the CSI agreed.

Looking up from the report, Catherine noted, "It looks like he used private mailbox services rather than the Post Office for his transactions… only accepted money orders. Do any of the three vendors have any more items up for sale? If they do, maybe we can stake-out the mail box around the time he'd be picking up a payment… better yet, make a buy and trace the transaction."

"Sorry, no," Brass replied. "It looks like he posts an auction lot to end the same day under one vendor name and never uses that ID a second time. Until we find an open sale that fits our missing items, nothing to watch… but they are still looking… maybe we'll have something in a day or two. I'll keep you posted. Bill Griggs is my contact, so he may give you a call once he gets a line on where the money orders were cashed."

"We need to print those mailboxes even if he's closed the account," Gil added. "We might find a print. I doubt he wore gloves… too likely to call unwanted attention his way. Nobody wears gloves in Vegas this time of year."

"Right… I'll get a warrant."

Pointing to the list, Catherine asked, "Will the recovered items be sent directly to us or to you?"

"I gave them your address… no need to slow things up. Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing how many people have handled them since they were taken from the victims, so why risk adding any further contamination to the mix." Sipping from his coffee cup, Jim asked, "You think we'll get anything useable?"

Shrugging his shoulders, it was Gil's turn to hedge. "Depends on how good a job the killer and the purchaser did in wiping down the surfaces whether we'll find anything. DNA is our best shot… but getting a match to even one of our victims is probably the best we can hope for."

"At this point, I'd be happy to get that. You think our guy's too smart to have left us anything to tie him to the stolen items?" Jim asked, leaning back in his chair.

"I'm not prepared to rule that out, but I'm more concerned with the buyer innocently destroying evidence trying to sterilize their purchase… you buy used jewelry you're going to clean it before you wear it," Grissom qualified. "I don't want to raise the bar too high until we see what we get."

"Archie and Greg finished installing the last of the surveillance equipment this morning," Catherine inserted into the sudden silence. "They have cameras set up inside the deli and the coffee shop, as well as at all entrances. We decided to add the dry cleaner… the cameras set at the front entrance and the door into a rear alley angled to catch the foot traffic at a whole-in-the-wall burger joint next door. Maybe our guy saw Libby on a burger run. We thought it was worth the effort."

"How are they going to check the videos?"

"Archie has the video feeds filtering through photo-recognition software that will… hopefully, spot common faces, as well as, possible matches to known felons," she replied. "Keep your fingers crossed we get something."

"And get it soon. Based on the time between kills, time is running out for his next victim and we have no idea who this bastard is or where he'll strike next."

-----

"What we got?"

Looking up, Sofia nodded in greeting to Brass as she flipped open her pad to run though the information she had compiled on their latest case. "I got the call just after mid-day… DB in a ditch off a dirt road north of the City… female, early 30's… obvious signs of torture… vic appears to have been manually strangled… severe trauma to her head and face."

"Damn!"

Sighing, Sofia nodded in agreement as she completed her report. "She was nude… stripped of all personal effects… appears to have been raped. Results from the SAE are still pending. Based on what we've determined at this point, I think we have another Strangler victim."

Moving closer to get a better look at the body of a young woman with long brunette hair lying on the prep table at the Coroner's Office, Brass prompted, "We got a name yet?"

"Robin Gifford… she has a tattoo of a Celtic knot on her right ankle. That matched a detail in a missing persons report filed by her husband last Thursday," the younger detective replied. "He just left after making the ID… brought us her hair and tooth brushes so we can run DNA to verify. Her face is a mess, but he says it's her. Pretty broken up… she was three months pregnant."

"Damn!" he repeated, struggling to contain his growing frustration and focus on the case.

"Yeah."

Running a stiff hand across his face in a manner that betrayed his frustration, he pressed, "What do we know about her… age, profession…? Was he able to give you much?"

"Like I said, he's pretty broken up, so it wasn't much beyond the basics." Looking back at her notes, Sofia supplied, "She was 33… a graphic designer at a local advertising firm. Her husband's name is Cory, also 33. He's a pilot for Southwestern Air. He was out of town on a three day haul to the east coast when she disappeared."

"You had a chance to confirm his story?"

"I talked to the detective that took the missing persons report last week; he'd verified his story," she recounted. "According to Alvarez, Robin dropped their son off at a birthday party around 3. The other boy's mother called Cory… he was in Atlanta at the time, when Robin didn't come back to pick their son up by 6:30. Robin was supposed to have been there by 5:30 when the party ended… she wasn't answering her phone."

"Repeated calls to her cell phone and to their home went unanswered. Cory called a neighbor around 7 who checked the house… he didn't see anything to suggest Robin was home… her car wasn't in the drive, she didn't come to the door," the female detective listed, flipping ahead in her notes. "Nobody remembered seeing or talking to her after 4:15, maybe 4:30 that afternoon. A couple of people remembered seeing her running errands a little earlier… drugstore, art supply store… bank, then nothing. Cory called in the report just before 8 that night… flew back the next morning."

"So, he has a solid alibi?"

"I haven't had time to double-check his story, but Alvarez seems to have verified a lot of this within the first 24 hours… witness statements, copies of his flight logs, copies of phone and bank records," she replied. "There wasn't any sign of a struggle at the home; her car is still missing… a white Volvo station wagon. BOLA was issued on the car last Friday by missing persons."

Flipping a page, she continued. "No out-going activity on her cell after 3:53… she called to her office to talk with her boss, then nothing. The last call she took was at 4:03 from her doctor's office to confirm an appointment the next day… then, a bunch of incoming beginning at 4:46 that went unanswered, including over twenty from her husband and parents. Cory was in Atlanta and they live in Seattle. The notes indicate the messages became increasingly frantic as the night went on."

"Yeah… I can imagine."

"There hasn't been any activity on her bank or credit card accounts since she made a deposit at 4:17… the bank was the last confirmed sighting," she concluded. "I'll let you know if anything changes the timeline, but it looks like she was grabbed sometime between 4:17 and 4:50. With that short a window, I'm hoping someone saw something."

Sighing, Brass turned to leave as the day shift coroner arrived to begin the post. The last thing he needed was to witness another autopsy. "Who's processing the evidence?"

"I called Gil as soon as I got to the dump sight and realized she was probably tied to the Strangler," Sofia answered. "He cleared it with Conrad… processed the scene with Catherine and Greg. They may have something before you got off in the morning."

Pushing open the door to the hall, he took a deep breath to clear his lungs of the smell of death. "Keep me posted. I'll head over to the lab and see if they have anything."

-----

Another three weeks passed without any new cases in the Roadside Strangler case, although cases in several other Nevada counties and one across the state line in Arizona had been tied to the monster they were tracking. Grissom's team had been able to link Robin Gifford to the killer through several key pieces of evidence. The parallel investigation along the Gulf Coast had turned up three more possibles that fit the killer's MO, but they lacked the physical evidence to make a conclusive link possible. Even if he excluded them from the tally, their body count was now well into double digits.

The task force had been working long hours, but Brass knew they weren't any closer to finding the killer than they had been a month earlier. He hadn't managed more than a few hours of sleep strung together for weeks, the knowledge that it was only a matter of time before the Strangler struck again kept his mind churning even as his body demanded rest.

The strain had only been exacerbated by a couple of unrelated murders consuming far too much of his time. After the third one fell into his lap in less than a week, he gave orders that he wasn't in the rotation for new cases until they found their killer. Brass needed to focus all of his attention on the Strangler investigation.

The Sheriff had agreed, but with one condition. He had ordered Jim to take a few days off at the first opportunity and get some rest. Burdette had made it clear; he wanted results and he wanted them fast which meant his lead detective needed to be clear-headed and focused. A cop working past the point of exhaustion was a liability, not an asset.

/First he orders me to focus exclusively on this case, then he orders me to take some time off… get out of town, completely away from the PD,/ he silently ranted, knowing the Sheriff was right but he too frustrated to be reasonable. /How the hell do I find this bastard sipping Mai Tai's on a beach somewhere?/

That thought inspired another… Casey in a bikini, lounging next to him. Their romantic evening the previous evening had been spoiled by a call from Sam Vega. While he had been relieved to hear that the suspect in his latest case had been arrested getting off of a bus in Bakersfield, the timing of the call had royally sucked. That memory underscored a fact he hadn't been ready to admit before that moment… his frustration and inability to sleep wasn't all about their lack of progress in the investigation.

/Meeting Casey has given me a whole new perspective on the phrase 'falling hard'! I'm nuts about her… I'd just like the opportunity to show her how much./

He felt a small smile tweak the corners of his lips as he admitted he needed more than rest if he truly wanted to regroup. He needed a lot of things, chiefly the time to concentrate on her… them, and he wasn't going to get that if he stayed in Vegas. He was way too accessible for the other members of the task force. As long as they could reach him on his cell, they knew he would drop what he was doing and report for duty.

Besides, they both deserved better. It might sound sappy to some of his colleagues, but he'd waited a long time to find someone like Casey and the thought of their first time being reduced to hurried sex fumbled through when he could find a few minutes in between murders just wasn't right.

/I'll never hear the end of it if they find out I'm a closet romantic! I wonder if Casey can get away for a short trip…/ he mused as he tried to refocus on the report in front of him.

Forcing his mind back to the business at hand, he reread his final report on his latest case. With a satisfied grunt, he hit send to email it to the DA handing the prosecution. For the first time in months, he was as close to being caught up as he had been in… /a long damned time/. The only current cases on his desk were those from the Strangler investigation. Unless another case hit them, he was at as good a place as he was likely to find to take a few days off.

Glancing at the clock, he noted that it was just after 9 in the morning. Once he'd attended the task force's daily briefing, he planned to go home and get some sleep. He and Casey had plans for dinner later that day, so he mentally added a discussion of a short vacation to the evening's agenda. /I hope she can take the time. We both need a little R&R… or is that R&S?/

Grinning at his own joke, Jim planted his palms on the edge of his desk so that he could push back his chair. The sound of a new message pinging into his Inbox caused him to pause. Seeing Casey's name flash briefly in the new mail notification window, he quickly clicked to open her message.

Is now a good time to call?

Shaking his head at her timing… /how does she do that?/, Jim pulled out his cell phone and entered her number. "Your timing is perfect, babe. I just wrapped up a case and was fixing to call it a day. So… what's up?"

"Well… I knew the answer to that question last night," her soft voice teased. "That would have been you… but that phone call kind of got in the way of that."

Groaning slightly at the memory she had evoked, he complained, "I nearly took poor Sam's head off when I got to the station. Romantic dinner, candlelight, and you. It was perfect except for the fact I forgot to turn off my phone. This is getting old fast, baby."

"I so agree… that's why I emailed."

"OK… so…?"

"I know you said the Sheriff is pushing you to take a few days off, so… still interested in a trip to the Grand Canyon?"

"Interested? Hell yes, I'm interested," he agreed, his tired senses beginning to tingle at the prospect of having her all to himself several hundred miles from the demands of their jobs. Her call seemed to confirm to old adage good things come to those that wait. "What do you have in mind… besides luring me away from Vegas so you can have you way with me?"

"Like you've been guarding your virtue," she scoffed. "You'd have rolled over and given it up…"

"…whenever you asked beginning the day we met… damned straight," he chuckled. "OK, since we both agree I'm easy, what's the plan?"

-----

Thanks for reading!!! Feedback is greatly appreciated!!

3-29-2009