Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Contains minor spoilers for Blood Brothers and Hell Night


Chapter 12—The Evidence Speaks

Eric and Ryan stood in the lab side by side at the lighted layout table, studying the photos.

"Okay. Twin Cities Crime Lab sent us these this morning" Delko said, motioning with his hand across the table. "These are the rest of the original photos from the fire, digitally enhanced." He then pointed to the next row. "Just got these about an hour ago. These are the excavation step by step. They're still sifting. Lot of stuff got lost when the structure got bulldozed, and neighbors said souvenir hunters came poking around."

Ryan nodded. "Yeah. And then you got the decomp and all the vegetation."

Delko held one photo up to the magnifier light. "So the fire started right here. The chimney was double-walled. Two layers of brick and then the insulation. While the rest of the living room had wood paneling, the wall with the fireplace had gypsum wallboard. "

Ryan's eyes fell on a small semicircle. "What's left of the mortar looks like somebody pounded something through it, like a nail. See this void here?"

Delko held out a printed sheet. "Twin Cities was thinking the same thing. They ran a trace on it. Haven't found anything in the property that matches it yet."

Ryan furrowed his eyebrows and then looked at Delko. "Tungsten. Same kind they use in light bulbs."

Delko nodded. "Yeah. Looked like a spike about half an inch in diameter. You figure the inside of that chimney got to about two thousand degrees. That tungsten probably heated up and lit up that wall. And since tungsten doesn't melt or warp easily…."

"Perfect for conducting that kind of heat right into the wall. But Twin Cities said this spike probably didn't reach the inside wall. In fact, because the chimney was double-walled, it didn't even reach far enough through the insulation." He picked up another photo. "But then we found this."

The charred wall had a faint pattern with a circle, a post, and then a rectangle. "Got a distinct pattern. Like…."

"A circle with something on top of it. Almost like a globe."

"Or a trophy."

"Problem is, how did it get that high up in the wall? And take a look at that. Sideways."

Ryan turned and faced Delko. "Hold your arms up."

"Why?"

"You're about six feet tall. I want to see how far up you can reach."

Delko stood against the glass wall and held his arm up. Ryan handed him the end of a tape measure. "Hold that. Your fingers reach seven feet eight inches. Just two inches shy."

Delko then patted the glass with his hand. "And even if I could reach that high, I couldn't hit that wall with enough force to make a mark like this. And I couldn't make that pattern in that angle."

"Guess we'll have to find out what did."

"Yep." Delko had his boyish grin again as he scanned the photos. "Wow. 1986. Were you out of diapers by then, Wolfe?"

The younger CSI smirked. "Yeah. Were you?"


The second those elevator doors parted, the memories flowed like a Florida canal. In her white sundress and heels, Yelina took a deep breath as she tapped up to reception desk, wondering whether anyone would recognize her. So many things happened here, she thought. Horatio stood here and watched her while she talked on the phone. The same day Rick Stetler first said hello.

As Horatio came around the corner, that same smile crossed his face. The rest of the world just seemed to dissolve when she wore that sleeveless white sundress. "Yelina. I was just leaving. You really didn't have to come all the way up here."

She smiled coyly and let her hair fall around her face. "I just thought I'd save you the trouble. Lot of memories here."

He nodded, never taking his eyes off her. "Good ones, I hope."

"Most of them have to do with you."

Horatio's blue eyes glanced up and down the hallway. No telling when Rick Stetler might come around to stir things up. "So it looks like you found some things we could use in the Johannsen case. Why don't we go someplace where we can talk more privately?"

Horatio closed the door and pulled up a chair next to his. Yelina sat just inches from him and spread out papers. He watched those beautiful hands move.

"Okay. In the 1986 Minnesota senatorial race, Steven Johannsen worked ran against Wallace Grier, the incumbent. Steven took seventy-two percent of the vote."

"So where might we find Senator Grier?"

"Died of a heart attack in 2002. He was indicted for using money from his campaign fund to pay for his girlfriend's apartment in Washington. Steven Johannsen ran against him on family values and his 'America Works' campaign. He promised to cut taxes and ease regulations to create more jobs."

"Cal Barber said he was young, fresh and popular with average Minnesotans, so the party nominated him. Somebody like that is bound to have some enemies going into Washington."

Yelina flipped more pages. "He did have a lot of enemies. His 'America Works' campaign upset a lot of the local labor unions who backed his opponent. I've been tracking down some contacts and talking to Twin Cities Crime Lab."

"Anybody we should be concerned about?"

"Him." She laid a photo on the table. Staring back at them was a heavy man with baby-fine brown hair and rough skin. Though the man smiled in his picture, one couldn't help but feel as though he were hiding something.

"His name is Bill Whitesides. His colleagues call him 'The Shark.' When he smells blood he attacks. He's currently a managing partner with Meyer and Whitesides, a corporate litigation firm in Minneapolis. Local police are questioning him. He has a reputation for finding dirt on his opponents."

"Sort of like Chuck Colson, Richard Nixon's 'Hatchet Man'?"

"Exactly. Both Cal's father and Bill Whitesides worked on the campaign. Mr. Whitesides was sure he'd get a senior staffing position in Washington, but Mr. Barber got the job instead. Everybody knew Bill Whitesides' reputation for finding information and using it against his opponents. It looks like this Bill Whitesides is addicted to power. Steven Johannsen was afraid somehow Bill might turn on him."

"Anybody else?"

"Still waiting for the Minnesota PD to call. And I have more information at home."

Horatio glanced at his watch and then looked into those beautiful brown eyes. "I'm thinking maybe we can talk about this more at your place. Isn't it my night to take Ray Jr. out for burgers?"

Yelina gave him a knowing smile as she gathered the papers back into their folders. "Actually that was last week, but I don't think he'd mind going again."

IAB agent Rick Stetler paced the hall, on the lookout for Horatio-again. He rounded the corner and stiffened up when he came almost nose to nose with the Lieutenant.

Horatio stopped suddenly and gathered himself. "Rick."

Rick gave him the usual scowl. "Got Twin Cities PD and the Feds crawling up my keester, Horatio. You're making a lot of higher-ups nervous with the Johannsen—

Rick lost his train of thought when she came around the corner. "Yelina?"

Adrenaline shot through through her as she found herself just inches from him. "Stetler."

"Rick, Miss Salas and I were actually going to work on the case at her house. I'll call you if we find out anything important."

The IAB agent tightened his lips. "Right."

As the elevator doors parted, Horatio was sure to hold Yelina's hand. He couldn't forget that night when Rick took possession of Yelina and Ray Jr, walking them into the elevator, while he could do nothing more than to watch from a distance. Now he would turn the tables.

"Actually, Yelina, I was thinking just order in some nice dinner at your place" he said very loudly.

Just before the doors closed, he leaned forward, pulling her body close to his and gave her a long, slow kiss where he knew Rick could see.

Yelina giggled into his lips. As the elevator sank, she found herself wrapping her arms around him as well, her fingers in his soft red hair as she savored his kiss. Finally he let her go and looked into her eyes.

"You did that on purpose" she said gleefully.

He glanced upward with a satisfied smile. "I did."

"Well, let's go home. There's more where that came from."

"I counted on that."