Chapter 12

"Hey, Yelina, I had a really good time last night. Thanks."

"I did too, Ryan. That's a good place to eat, too."

"Maybe the company had something to do with it."

They ended their conversation as they walked into the evidence room where Horatio, Calleigh, Walter, and Eric had already gathered for the morning meeting.

Calleigh began with summarizing what she had assigned them to do the day before. Then she asked everyone to say what they had come up with.

Walter started with the little he had gotten out of Mr. Hennessy besides belligerence. "When I asked him who, besides family might have been in the RV in the last few days, all he could say was 'a lot of different people.'"

Eric came in with his part. "I had the prints from the RV and the wigs running all night and have still come up with nothing."

"So, what do you think the connection might be?"

Eric shrugged while he examined his shoes, and shook his head slowly. "Probably none."

"I'm going to see if Nikki is any more forthcoming after a night in jail. Maybe she'll be able to say who the visitors were."

Walter was slouched against one of the counters. "I'm still trying to run down these people's activities in the last few weeks. If we can find where they were and when, we might have a better idea of how this all goes together."

"Yelina and I may have done a little better. We went to the place the magic shop guy's wig came from and barely caught the manager before she was locking up. Two people were involved in making the wigs and both were gone home. One only comes in part time for specialty work. I took prints from the main worker's table and some from the back door and the two windows in the workroom. One of the windows looked like it might have been jimmied at some time but it was repaired and repainted."

"What did the manager have to say about that?"

"Just that the area where the shop is located is a place where there are a lot of homeless people looking for places to sleep at night. When they noticed the damage, they did a quick inventory and found nothing missing so just got it repaired and put in an insurance claim.

We'll go back and interview the second one at the shop today and hopefully the boss. He only comes in once in a while. Then we'll go to the home address of the other guy and see what we get."

"Who made the wig?" Calleigh was making notes as everyone spoke.

Yelina referred to her notes. "Molly Sugden."

"And who is the boss you'll be talking to?"

"Dickensian Barton."

Eric's head rose with a jerk. "Barton? As in the guy who owns the fancy toupee shop that made our first vic's piece?"

"You mean he owns both places?"

Horatio smiled. "It would make sense, don't you think?"

Eric asked the next logical question. "Who was the specialist who also worked on the wig?"

When he heard the name, he looked at Horatio. "That's the guy who gave me such a hard time at Barton's Toupee shop."

Horatio looked up at Eric and smiled as he whispered, "Well, this just gets more interesting, doesn't it? Why don't we go pay Mr. Thibodaux a visit and see who gives who a hard time."

He turned to Yelina and smiled. Both knew they had an important date that night. Then his gaze widened as he also looked at Ryan.

"You two interview Ms. Sugden and see if she remembers anything about the magician's wig before she handed it over for delivery. If Barton is there, well and good. Talk to him about why anyone would target his clients. If he doesn't show up, head to his toupee shop."

Pushing his bulk off from the counter, Walter's boyish voice declared, "I'll see who Hennessy was visiting while he left his daughter alone. Maybe these cousins could give us a lead on who might have visited the RV long enough to have left prints that casual cleaning didn't get."

Calleigh chirruped, "I'll see if there's anything yet on our garden guy. I know Tom found bella donna in the stomach. Maybe there's more the body itself can tell. Then I'll talk with Nikki." She almost turned away when she paused, snapping her fingers. "Eric, before you leave, check in with Valera to see what she got on the biologicals on Dowd's sheets."

Letting Eric go on, Horatio remained with Calleigh for a moment. "Thank you for taking over on such short notice."

"I was worried about you."

In anticipation of going outside, Horatio had already pulled out his glasses. He toyed with the ear pieces as he smiled. "I decided to have my back tended to before I had to be put in traction."

Calleigh smiled familiarly. "Massage?"

The skin around Horatio's sky-blue eyes crinkled as he looked at the blonde seated on the stool in front of him. "One of Natalia's cousins is a massage therapist and very good too."

Calleigh guffawed, apparently disturbing the infants inside her. She rubbed her growing middle as she said, "That girl has a relative for every purpose.

"So, did she do the trick?"

"I think so. I'm going to take it easy for another day or two."

Calleigh didn't say what she was thinking which was 'fat chance.'

Horatio didn't say what had passed through his mind either which was the memory of warm comforting hands, not only on his lower back but nearly his entire body. And, not one bit of it had been sensual. How strange was that?"

"Calleigh, Horatio, nothing but Dowd's remains on the sheets." Eric was hanging on the door frame as he spoke. "In fact, she says that from the amount, it's doubtful he had much of a sex life."

Horatio stood quietly for a moment, his head slightly turned as he reviewed what he knew about sexual assaulters and his own personal experiences with them for over thirty years. Coming out of his trance, he said softly, "Apparently Mr. Dowd kept his assaults outside of his home."

He turned to Calleigh. "I know you have a full plate here but I'm going to have to add to it. Please look up any criminal record that Crowley might have. Maybe there's a connection between Dowd's sexual assault charges and Crowley."

Anyone made of less fine metal than this woman would have slumped under the extra load. This one, the most petite of the CSI team, simply brightened at the challenge. "I'll call as soon as I find anything."

Now striding purposefully out of the second-in-command's lab-office area, Horatio pulled out his cell. "Frank, I'm going to need a warrant for a Hermes Thibodaux's fingerprints. Thanks." He gave the police detective the particulars and hung up.

Before replacing the phone he called Ryan. "Yelina should have a list of names of women who filed complaints against Dowd. Once you're done with Ms. Sugden and Mr. Barton, please start interviewing them. Keep me posted."

In the speeding hummer, to pass the time, Eric commented on his boss' absence.

Horatio framed his words carefully. "Eric, it's hard getting to be my age in our line of work. Just remember, that as you do, do it carefully."

Knowing that was the only reply he was going to get, Eric propped his elbow on the car's window ledge and leaned his chin against his knuckles. He stared out the window watching the scenery go by.

At the second floor apartment, they heard Hermes Thibodeaux growl before he answered the loud knock, "I'm coming, dammit! Hold on!"

The man's face turned from a frown to a snarl as he looked up at Eric and then Horatio. "What the hell do you want? And who're you?"

"Mr. Thibodeaux, I need to get your fingerprints and to ask you a few questions." Eric showed his badge more as a formality than to indicate the man might not remember who he was.

"And what are you here for Red? Laughs?"

Brushing the skirts of his jacket back, showing his gold badge and his pistol, Horatio identified himself. "As to what I'm here for, let's just say backup."

The little man raised his hands out from his side and turned slowly around. His t-shirt was tucked neatly into his shorts which were held up with a belt around his ample middle. Below the ragged cutoff level of the shorts were stocky bare legs ending in bare feet. "Uh, let's see if I have this right. I'm five feet two and three quarters inches tall and if I'm right, you are each six feet tall. You outreach and outweigh me as well. Now, what's this about backup?"

"Would you like us to take the fingerprints here where everyone can see or inside?" Eric's straightforward attitude carried a no nonsense tone.

"By the way, have you got a warrant?"

Eric showed him the electronic version on his phone. "We could wait an hour or so for someone to deliver the paper version if you want."

Thibodaux made a face like he had just gotten a whiff of decomp. "Like you wouldn't think of some reason to haul me downtown if I don't."

Neither Horatio or Eric said anything, allowing Thibodeaux come to his own conclusions.

The scruffily bearded man sighed and stood aside to allow the two admittance into his apartment. Standing in the middle of the sun bright room he put out his hands. "Alright, ink me up and let's get this over with."

Eric let his mouth spread in a smile as he set his case down on the floor and opened it. "We do better than that now." He reached into the case and pulled out a SmartPad. "Sit down." He turned on the device and poked his finger at the screen a couple of times.

Once Thibodeaux was seated on the well worn couch, Eric put the electronic pad on his lap and ordered, "Put your right palm on the pad making sure the tips of your fingers are pressed firmly." The screen blinked and then Eric said, "Now put just your thumb, print down, onto the pad." Again the screen blinked. He then had Thibodeaux repeat the actions using his left hand.

Watching Eric retrieve the pad and put it back into his case and close it up, Thibodaux stood and asked, "Okay, I'll bite, what did that do?"

"I was using a print program on the pad. It photographed your prints and they were just sent, using Wi-Fi, to our lab where they were automatically entered into our database and run against some prints we picked up at Barton's Toupee and on the wig that killed Dowd."

Thibodeaux scowled up through his eyebrows. "Is that it?"

Horatio had been looking around, hoping to see something that looked out of place. "No, Mr. Thibodaux, it isn't. We found you had something to do with a second victim who died under exactly the same circumstances as Mr. Dowd. This wig was created at your second place of work."

"Oh, you mean Wigs and More? So who bought the farm now?"

"A certain Marvin Crowley."

The man shook his head. "Don't know him. You sure I did a wig for him?"

Horatio described the wig and named the shop.

"Oh yeah, come to think of it, I do know him. He's another escapee from the carnies."

"Excuse me?"

"People who used to work the traveling carnival shows like I did. For me, being a kid with a record, it was one of the few businesses that would hire me."

A faraway look of fond memories entered the gray green eyes. "Yeah, I started out doing the setup work, moved to running the booths and then went into doing costumes and wigs for clowns. I did one of the last ones Dowd used as a balloon clown."

"So, you knew him too?"

"Just in the business sense. That story about him being a circus clown was a lie. Still, he was a good guy. He's the one who thought I'd do okay in the real toupee business so he sent me to Barton. The rest, as they say, is history."

"You realize, of course, that you made two wigs and both killed people."

"I've made lots of wigs and most are still floating around town on their owner's heads, both whole and happy."

"Do you have any idea why anyone would have anything against Barton's customers?"

"Not inside of either of Barton's shops. But then, Barton doesn't like us talking about customers among ourselves so who knows what anyone thought? All I know is, I don't have nothing against any of them."

"Well, thank you for your time. We'll get back to you if we need anything more."

"Yeah, yeah, and don't leave town, I know. Good bye and don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out."

Both men held their silence on their way down the stairs. Many doors and windows were open to catch the morning breeze and what they thought was of no concern to any who might hear.

This was just as well for Horatio. Climbing the stairs to get to Thibodeaux' apartment had been no problem but even using the decorative bannister rails for support on the way down, he could feel his back muscles straining to the limit.

"Now what?" asked Eric.

"Back to the lab. I need to pick something up and you can check on Thibodeaux' prints."

The something the head CSI wanted to pick up was a heating patch that he could apply to his back. He hoped the heat the thing would exude would offer some relief before he had to holler 'uncle' and go see a doctor.

TBC