A/N: I'd like to say a quick thank you to the people who have taken the time to review my story! I thrive on reviews, they make my world spin round!
This chapter is a bit on the long side. Had to let everyone know that the team is trying to find the boys. But will they succeed... Guess you'll have to keep reading to find out. evil grin
Chapter 12
Detective Vartann greeted Catherine Willows and Gil Grissom as they walked up the steps to the second story apartment of what had once been a warehouse.
"What have we got, Detective?" Grissom asked, looking past the detective at the door behind him.
"On the surface, not a lot. Neighbors heard some shouts around four p.m. They didn't think much of it, as it didn't last long, until they discovered the door opened around eleven. No real signs of a struggle. Bed's unmade in the bedroom."
"Do we have a name for the tenet?" Catherine asked.
"The mortgage is in the name of a Greg Sanders," Vartann replied, referring to his notebook.
Grissom and Catherine looked at each other, eyes going wide.
"What?" Vartann asked, confused.
"Greg's the new DNA tech at the lab, and he hasn't shown up for work tonight," Grissom explained.
Stepping past Vartann, into the doorway, Catherine shown her tactical flashlight around the entryway. It shown off of something silvery on the floor, catching Catherine's eye.
"Gil, Nick didn't show up for work tonight, either, did he," it was more a statement than a question, as she already knew the answer to that.
Stepping up beside Catherine, Grissom added his flashlight's beam to the spot Catherine's illuminated, and slowly said, "No..."
"That's Nick's kit," Catherine said softly, fear for her co-workers clenching her heart.
Grissom's flashlight continued to move across the entryway, stopping on two pairs of shoes – one a pair of heavy work boots, the others a pair of Convers. The Convers were set neatly side by side against the wall. The work boots had been discarded where they'd been removed. Near the work boots was a dark colored duffle bag.
Pulling on a pair of gloves, Grissom knelt down next to the duffle bag and unzipped it. Clothing and toiletries were packed neatly inside.
"Those are Nick's clothes," Catherine remarked from over Grissom's shoulder, as she recognized several of the Texan's favorite shirts.
"Sleepover?" Grissom postulated with a raised eyebrow.
Straightening up again, Grissom shown his light around the dark apartment. The space was so large, the flashlight couldn't fully penetrate the darkness.
"Let's take a look around, then we'll pull out the ALS. Vartann said there was nothing visible to the naked eye, that doesn't mean there's nothing here." Grissom suited actions to words, moving a few more steps into the apartment.
As he moved through the large space, Grissom thought to himself that the apartment suited the charismatic young DNA tech. With the wide open layout, there was plenty of room for the energetic, high strung man to move around in.
"Vartann's right, nothing visibly out of place or disturbed," Catherine reported several minutes later, after completing her half of the circuit. "I'll go get the ALS units. You want to start out here and I'll start in the bedroom?"
"Sure," Grissom replied absently, pulling his radio from his vest. "Any sign of Nick's or Greg's vehicles in the parking lot, Vartann?"
"Hmm... Not sure. Can you have Archie pull make and model from their PD parking permit applications?" Vartann responded a moment later.
"I'll radio in and have him get right on it."
Grissom was finishing up on the radio with Archie as Catherine came in carrying the portable, yet still bulky, ALS machines.
Handing one of the machines to Grissom, Catherine picked her kit up and lugged the other ALS to Greg's bedroom. Putting on the amber colored glasses, she switched the machine on and began to methodically sweep it across the room.
She'd known the DNA tech for a little over a week at this point, and she thought the bedroom's decor seemed to fit the wacky young man.
Several glowing splotches on the dark carpet near the corner of the bed caught her eye.
Pulling a swab from her vest, she swirled the tip through the largest of the splotches, then switched off the ALS for a moment so she could test the swab for blood.
Her fears were confirmed a moment later when the tip of the swab turned purple after she applied the chemical. With a sigh, she closed the swab's end cap, put it in a box, and labeled it. Either day or swing shifts' DNA tech would have to find out who the blood belonged to.
Picking up the ALS again, Catherine continued her search of the room.
The bed showed evidence of sexual activity, so she took several swabs from that, as well.
Once she'd processed the bathroom and closet, she headed back to the main part of the apartment to help Grissom.
Grissom looked up from the sectional, "Find anything?"
"Evidence of blood on the bedroom floor, and sexual activity in the bed. That's it, though," Catherine sighed. "How about you?"
"Evidence of sexual activity on the couch, too, but nothing else."
Vartann stuck his head in the doorway, "Archie just got back to me on make and model for Nick's truck and Greg's SUV. They're both in the lot outside."
Catherine looked to Grissom with wide, frightened eyes. "What's happened to them, Gil?"
Pulling his radio out, Grissom called Warrick.
"Yo, Griss, what's up?" came the near instantaneous response.
"Warrick, Nick and Greg are missing. I need you to come process their cars," he finished by rattling off Greg's address.
Worry coloring his tone, Warrick replied, "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
Grissom, curious at Warrick's lack of comment on the fact that Nick had been with Greg, resolved to ask him about it later. Putting his radio away again, he looked at Catherine. "Let's finish with the ALS, then we're going to dust every inch of this place for prints. We'll find them!"
Grissom and Catherine were printing the apartment when Warrick arrived.
"Griss, Cath. Anything?" Warrick worriedly asked.
Grissom straightened from his hunched position in front of the entertainment center and moved over to Warrick.
"Warrick, do you know why Nick was here? You didn't sound surprised when I mentioned Nick's truck was here," Grissom asked the younger CSI quietly.
Warrick fiddled with the keys to Nick's truck, which sat at the end of the long breakfast bar next to Greg's keys. "I promised him I wouldn't say anything to anyone," he started, meeting Grissom's gaze momentarily before dropping his eyes to the keys again. "Under the circumstances, though..." he trailed off for a moment. "He and Greg are involved."
"Involved... You mean romantically," it wasn't a question, but Warrick nodded his head anyway. "It can't have been going on long. Greg's only been with the lab for a little over a week."
"A few days," Warrick confirmed. "They hooked up on their last days off."
"Okay. Thank you for telling me this. Go start processing their vehicles. We need to create a time line of their movements for the last few days. Whatever happened may stem from something that happened a few days ago."
"I'll get right on it," Warrick assured the older CSI, scooping up the two sets of keys and heading for the parking lot. He prayed this his best friend and the young DNA tech were okay.
Warrick decided to start with Nick's Chevy 1500, mostly because he knew it was Nick's and he wasn't sure what Greg drove.
The black extended cab truck had a hard top cover on the back, enclosing the truck's bed. The usually immaculate truck had a thin layer of dust turning the black paint to more of a dark gray.
Remembering what Grissom had said about establishing a time line of where Nick and Greg had been, Warrick took a sample of the dust. Perhaps trace could find some distinguishing characteristic that would tell them where the two men had been. He also looked over the tires, to see if there might be any rocks, or other large detritus stuck in the treads, that might narrow their search.
Finally unlocking the truck, Warrick shown his tactical flashlight around the interior. He noticed more of the same dust, and a piece of paper on the floor boards. Picking up the paper in a glove encased hand, he turned it to study. It was a receipt for gas, dated two days ago, at a gas station on Alamo Road.
