Keats bit her lip and waited in line at the baggage claim. She hated flying all by herself. It seemed to reinforce the fact that she was still just a little girl in a big world that seemed to be getting bigger by the minute.
"We'll miss ya, kiddo." Harvey said, putting her in a half-nelson choke hold. Keats bent her knees and twisted out of his grip.
"Sure, Harv. Do me a favor, make sure Glenn doesn't start a war with Dad while I'm gone." She hugged him, doing her level best not to cry. Tomboy Keats does NOT cry in front of her brothers.
"Send me a hooker, Kit. Or at least gamble for me while you're there." Miles grinned. He grabbed her hand and they did their secret handshake from their favorite movie "Animal House." He ended the shake by pulling her close and patting her back several times.
"My turn, I guess…Let me know if anybody gives you shit in Vegas. I'll swing by and pummel 'em for you." Glenn cleared his throat and embraced her awkwardly. Glenn had never been one for goodbyes, but his effort truly touched Keats. The tears she had been holding back began to fall freely down her cheeks.
"Don't cry, Keats…you'll make me cry too!" Sloane whispered. Harvey and Miles rolled their eyes and began imitating them good-naturedly.
Keats checked her baggage and was about to go through the security point. Or as Aunt Roe called it, 'the point of farewell.' She looked around as though expecting something she knew would never happen. Ryan didn't even know she was leaving.
I left without saying goodbye to anyone except Horatio. I feel like such a rat. I'm sneaking away like some criminal. I'm running away…Why? Why am I running?
After saying goodbye one last time, she promised she'd be back in a week for the wedding. With that, she picked up her bags and went through the security check.
The taxi pulled up in front of Miami International Airport and Ryan threw open the door, racing to get to the baggage claim before she checked in.
He stood in front of the wall of flight schedules, scouring the board for Las Vegas. There was only one, he noticed. And it had taken off nearly fifteen minutes ago.
"Damn." He muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
Calleigh Duquesne observed the body of the young woman floating in the bathtub. The Ladykiller was still at large and the loss of their newest member had been severely detrimental.
"Damn good waste of the Honeymoon Suite, huh?" Detective Tripp said as he watched a few of his own gently lift the body onto a stretcher. They placed her in a long, black bag and zipped her up without fanfare.
"Another girl and we are nowhere close to a conviction." Calleigh said.
"We may have to put this case on the backburner." Tripp muttered reluctantly.
"Or…we can double our efforts." Horatio said, slipping on his sunglasses as they exited the premises.
"How, Caine? I thought things were going full speed ahead already." Tripp asked belligerently. No one wanted to give up on a case, but there had to be a line drawn somewhere.
"I'll give you another week, Horatio. But after that we've got to shut it down." Tripp said after a time. Calleigh nodded, trying to accept the implications of failure. The team at Miami Dade rarely let a case go by unsolved.
Ryan sat gazing into his microscope, examining every cell of fabric from the exhausted bikini that had seen every scientific test known to man. He sighed and felt someone standing behind him.
"Natalia? What are you doing here?" He asked, ill-enthused at the sight of her.
"Ryan…I have a confession to make. Keats left because of me." She took a deep breath, trying to get it all out before she lost her nerve.
"What did you say to her?" Ryan stood and edged closer to Natalia.
"I…I told her it wasn't a good idea to see anyone at work…I said that she was throwing away her career on you when all you wanted was…" Natalia stopped, the ruthless echo of her own words leaving her cold.
"When all I wanted was what?" Ryan asked angrily. Instead of waiting for an answer, however, he walked past her and headed toward the computer lab.
"Cooper…book me a flight to Las Vegas. I'm taking a few days off work." He said, standing behind him. He was impatient to get moving and Cooper noted this with uneasiness. He printed out a flight itinerary and handed it to Wolfe soundlessly.
Keats gazed out of her window and bid a fond farewell to the bright Miami sunshine. I should have at least made a formal announcement to my colleagues. It would have been more professional of me, and…nicer. We were more than colleagues. We were friends. How will I ever be able to live with myself after what I did?
"Agent Remington?" A handsome salt-and-pepper haired gentleman emerged from the crowd at the gate and motioned to her. Keats gave a friendly smile and waltzed up to him excitedly.
"Dr. Grissom?" She asked hopefully. The man known as Gil Grissom nodded and shook her hand graciously.
"Gilbert Grissom, L.V.P.D. Wonderful to meet you, Ms. Remington. We'll take a tour of the Lab first, then we'll take you to the hotel where you'll be staying until we can make other, more permanent arrangements. Welcome to Las Vegas." He said, taking her suitcase. She carried her two totebags and followed him outside, suddenly assaulted by the dry heat.
Miami had been swelteringly hot, but Vegas was an arid jungle. She climbed into his SUV and they drove past miles of sand, palm trees, and wedding chapels.
"There are palm trees here? Just like in Florida?" Keats asked. She was already quite homesick and any semblance of her past life was greatly appreciated.
"Yep. Just like in Florida. You know, Caine bragged about you when he gave me the details of this arrangement. I wasn't sure I wanted to take on an undergrad. But he said you were well worth it and that I'd be impressed." Grissom said, giving Keats sideways glances.
"Oh, I'm not as good as all that…" Keats replied modestly. Grissom smiled.
"We could go through all the formalities like I told you we would…or we could go straight to work on our most recent case. Which would you rather do, Remington?" Grissom asked. Keats knew immediately that she liked Dr. Grissom.
"I'd rather get to work, if you don't mind." Keats said. Grissom was taken with her gentle charm and was well aware that she had the makings of a pro.
It was the most brutal crime scene Keats had ever witnessed. The victim was hanging from a tiny wooden cage in his basement, his blood spilling out on all sides. Interestingly enough, there was only a tiny amount of blood on the basement floor.
Keats tried to hold her breath as she assisted Grissom and CSI Catherine Willows in processing the scene. The smell was nauseating and the view was even worse.
"Upside down crosses…burnt appendages…the slightest hint of a pentagram directly below the cage…looks like a satanic ritual." Willows said, shining her flashlight on the ashes of what appeared to be human fingers. Keats turned away and suppressed the urge to vomit.
The body was turned over to the coroner and on immediate inspection, the corpse was said to be completely devoid of blood.
"I don't think we're dealing with Satanists, here." Grissom said after initial feedback from the Dr. Robbins.
"Vampires." Keats murmured with a shudder. It was a tale she was quite familiar with. Her step-sister, Simone, had told her the story when she was young enough to be frightened by it.
Elizabeth Bathory had been searching for a serum that would reverse the look of aging. High and low she searched. Nothing seemed to work. Until one day when she slapped one of her maids and caused her poor nose to bleed. The blood fell on her hand and she swore that where the blood had fallen, newer, prettier skin had emerged.
She began drinking and bathing in the blood of young girls in an effort to keep herself looking young. Keats had listened attentively, especially when Simone had warned her that her followers were still around in present day. Keats hadn't realized she was dead serious.
Within a few hours of settling in with the team at Las Vegas P.D. Keats noticed a definite change in the atmosphere from that of Miami Dade. There was something more sinister in the air. It had nothing to do with the people, but more to do with the cases.
Keats desperately missed the cases back in Miami. Something about the way this one was forming made her think she didn't belong. Things didn't seem quite so sick and twisted back in Miami.
After looking over several blown up photographs of the crime scene and the body in the cage, Keats ran to the bathroom and heaved up the entire contents of her stomach.