Title: By Design, Chapter 29

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 29 --- Fresh Perspective

-----

"I spoke with my neighbor this morning," Sam began, pulling out a chair at the table across from Brass in the EOC kitchen Casey had commandeered to feed 'the troops'. "Tommy works for Tru-Blue Security. They're a national firm with a big operation here in the Vegas area."

"Yeah?" Brass replied, extending the coffeepot to refill the mug the other detective was carrying. "Was he able to help nail down an angle on how Keyser's avoiding security cameras… maybe where's he getting his hi-tech gadgets?"

Sighing, Vega nodded. "He says the parking lot part is pretty simple to explain if you know what to look for. The red light on the front of the camera blinks when the camera is still getting juice, but not a feed. No light, no juice… no nothing."

"So a quick canvas of a parking lot tells him all he needs to know," Jim summarized. "Doesn't help us find him, but it's still good to know. Send an email to all briefing officers to add that to the daily. I'd like them to have our patrols start a list of lots that don't have functioning cameras… and, yeah, I know it will be a long list. Anything that narrows the field can only help at this point."

"Yeah, I guess. It does explain his catching the video cameras we planted… his knowing where they are on the buses," Vega observed, relieved to see the usual steady focus normal to his CO reasserting itself. The entire task force had been worried by the reckless anger that had been evident in his mood the day before… but then they had all been reeling in response to what they had found at the Nichols Ranch.

/I guess the rumors about the gym… I so didn't need that mental image!/ Sam silently moaned.

Refocusing on their conversation, he added, "It also explains why he feels comfortable coming back for their rides… he knows no one's watching."

A sudden sickening thought hit Jim like a blow to his gut. In a low voice that wouldn't travel across the kitchen, he murmured, "Is it possible he was… the cameras weren't transmitting in that parking lot where he grabbed Valerie. If he was following Case…"

"Did he plan to grab her that day… got distracted by Valerie and took her instead?" Sam completed. "It's possible… or it may be proof that he has his game wired so tight, the situation fit his parameters for an impulse grab. Valerie was a beautiful woman. He saw her, he wanted her… she was vulnerable and never knew it. No way to know, boss… only thing I'm sure about is Casey's safe and we'll keep her that way."

"Assuming he doesn't skip town and wait for us to drop our guard," Jim mused. "If we miss him now… we'll be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives."

"We're not going to let that happen," Vega declared, the hard edge of his voice underscoring that commitment. "He's in our sights and we'll get him."

"Right… this stops here," Brass agreed, mentally repeating his mantra.

The woman in question flipped the last of the pancakes onto the top of a tall stack before turning to face the two men. The soft 'cat with a full bowl of cream' smile her face caused Vega to discretely study his CO as she asked, "Did I hear you mention Tru-Blue Security, Sam? They're one of the best firms around."

Stifling a laugh as he noted the smug expression on Brass's face, Vega managed, "Yeah, I did. How do you know them?"

"I've worked with them on a number of projects… they have offices across the country," she supplied, placing the platter in front of the two men. After taking the seat next to her fiancé, she continued. "Banks, casinos… actually most businesses these days have IT and security systems designed into the building, hardwired from the beginning. Some even have us drop empty PVC into the walls and floors to use as conduit for new wiring if the need arises. That's a hell of a lot cheaper and less disruptive to day-to-day operations long-term than a retrofit… though the wireless technology is changing that."

"And you work directly with Tru-Blue on those designs?" Sam asked as he shifted a third of the stack of hotcakes to his plate. "I'm glad I timed this right. I haven't eaten since yesterday."

Pleased to have something to contribute to the effort, she ordered, "There's more batter if those run out, so eat up."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Sam promised, refusing to become distracted by guilt over the number of breakfasts he's missed with his family over the years… the number of cold pancakes his wife had thrown out because he hadn't made it home in time to join them.

Accepting the lightened patter, Casey answered his question. "I work with Tru-Blue fairly frequently… they're usually my first choice. Most GC's have a security firm as a sub… use their designers to price a system as part of their bid packages the same as they would for HVAC or IT. For bigger projects, I work with them directly… especially if there are vaults or monitoring rooms in the building. Technology changes too fast for me to do otherwise."

Trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible, Jim pressed, "Have you used them here in Vegas?"

Focused on filling their plates, Casey nodded. "Yeah, on several projects… the Dreamweaver complex… a bank down in Henderson… a couple of medical offices… most of the buildings at Celebration. We had them lined up to do The Eclipse and the McGregor hi-rise… still will if they ever get going again. Why?"

"Just nice to talk about something besides the case," Jim offered as he accepted his plate.

Dousing his stack in a flood of sticky syrup, Sam admitted, "When I was a kid, becoming an architect was sort of a dream of mine… that or being a cop. Building design still interests me."

"The design world's loss is LVPD's gain," she proposed, amused by the boyish grin on her lover's face as he similarly smothered his breakfast in the sugary condiment.

Her observation made Sam chuckle. "You've never seen me try to draw that little turtle on the back of the matchbook. If Tippy was beyond me, I somehow doubt I'd be able to manage a house."

"Well, they didn't let me start designing houses the first day I turned up either," she retorted. "That's kind of the reason you have to actually attend the classes."

A forkful of food paused halfway to his mouth as Sam offered, "I'm a damned good cop, but the world wasn't deprived of a great architect by that choice. So… with security systems you what… design for the wiring… equipment?"

"Mostly… locating the lines so they don't get interference from the electric or other services is vital… like, you don't want to install plumbing in the ceiling over a server room. A pipe breaks and it could be an expensive disaster," she explained. "Depending on the system we're installing, there may be equipment rooms or security centers for monitors, as well as, wiring for cameras, pass-card readers… call boxes. The specialized needs of a casino, especially the vault, are mind-blowing."

"Tru Blue is big enough to handle something like that?" Vega pressed, pausing to sip his coffee. "I didn't realize they were that big."

"One of the biggest," Casey supplied. "They sell everything from home security setups to top-of-the-line commercial systems. They even offer monitoring services and rent-a-cops for construction sites… from the basics to bleeding edge technology worthy of James Bond."

"Rent-a-cops? They have security details?" Jim interjected. "I'm familiar with crews from DeWitt and Continental… a few others. I thought they had a corner on the market."

"They do, but it's waning," she responded. "Tru-Blue's offered staffing and monitoring for years… and they were gearing up to expand when the economy tanked. Tru-Blue has effectively used their position in the technology field to build relationships with various builders. That gives them an in on onsite security gigs… which gives them an excellent shot at getting the tenants to hire them once they occupy."

Pausing to take a bite of her breakfast, she added, "From what I've been told, they've become a real threat to the old-line security firms in recent years. A lot of on-site security services have been outsourced over the last ten years… apparently insurance and workers comp costs are making it increasingly cost prohibitive for anyone but the biggest companies to maintain their own crews. Tru-Blue saw the potential and caught the wave."

"OK… good to know. Am I wrong that I've always assumed the rent-a-cops at construction projects were employed by the construction firms to keep an eye on their equipment as much as the site?" Jim observed.

"Some do," she agreed, "…most of the crew employed at Celebration are employed by Greenley. Alan Greenley wants his own men looking after things. Tru-Blue handles the installation and monitoring of the security systems, but the guards are his."

Sipping her coffee, Casey casually recalled, "Come to think of it… I was at a meeting a few years ago about the Eclipse… not long before Mr. Braun died actually, and he made the comment he'd never outsource security. One of his number crunchers told him he was being 'old-school'. He laughed and told her, old-school or not, he wanted the men with the guns to be on his payroll… made it easier to assure their loyalty."

"Sounds like Sam," a voice from the doorway offered. "He didn't like sharing control with anyone."

Looking over her shoulder, Casey gave Catherine an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I didn't…"

Sliding into the chair next to Vega, Catherine reassured, "Nothing to apologize for. Sam was a complete original and I loved him for all his faults… and God knows he had a lot of those."

"Nice way of putting it," Jim muttered, flinching as a foot connecting with his shin. "Hey… no kicking! I calls them as I sees them."

"I can't argue… I have no delusions about him. Vegas was a different town when he made his fortune. He never managed to leave it behind… a shark in a tux is still a shark," the CSI observed, a sad smile on her face. "I didn't realize you knew him, Casey."

"I met him a few times... mostly at meetings on The Eclipse," the architect offered, smiling as Jim covered her hand. "One of the senior partners in my firm was principle on the project. I was still living in Miami at the time, but I was frequently in and out of town working on plans for Celebration. I sat in when their meetings fit my schedule so Larry had a backup should the need arise."

"You mean Larry Ware?" Catherine responded, smiling her thanks as Vega passed her the coffeepot. "He could give Sam a run for his money any day when it came to being a character."

"You know Larry?"

Nodding, Catherine poured herself a cup as she recalled, "I met him years ago… he was having lunch with Sam at a diner down the street from the Rampart… your old haunt, Jim… The Ace."

"Oh, man, I miss their country fried steak and apple pie," Jim sighed. "That place was torn down, what… eight, nine years ago?"

"Probably longer ago that that," Catherine mused. "I was addicted to their meatloaf and mashed potatoes… and their burgers."

"Just walking in the door was enough to get my mouth watering," Jim agreed. "So… you know this guy…"

"Larry? Yeah. Sam introduced us when I stopped by their table to say hello. Larry took my hand… took forever letting it go, then he showed up that night at the club where I was dancing… became a regular…" she recalled, "more like a regular pest. He kept sending me flowers… proposed at least a dozen times over the years. I was married with a small child at the time, but he kept offering to 'take me away from it all'."

Wide blue eyes stared in shock at the smirking strawberry blond. "Larry?? Larry Ware at a…??"

Chuckling, Catherine finished, "…a strip club. If he was in town, I could count on him showing up before the first show and staying half the night… front row, center. Man was a good tipper if nothing else."

"Larry Ware???"

Looking back and forth between the two women, Brass prompted, "OK… why is it so hard for you to believe he had a thing for Cath?"

"It's not that… I can't imagine any straight man not having a thing for her," Casey insisted, "but…"

"So, you thought he was gay?"

"No… frankly, I've always thought he was the most sexless person I've ever met," she admitted, watching in amazement as Catherine began to laugh. "Milk-toast seems spicy next to him. Eunuchs seem like randy frat-boys next to him. Old maid, spinster schoolmarms would seem like wanton tramps…"

A smug smile settled on Catherine's face as she finally controlled her laughter. "You'd be surprised…"

Quickly plugging her ears with her fingers, Casey insisted, "I so don't want to hear he was a tiger in bed!! That could put me off sex for years!!"

"Heaven forbid! Jim would never forgive me… and neither would the entire night shift if that satisfied smirk on his face is any clue," the scientist asserted, her smug expression turning evil as she watched the blushes bloom across the faces of all three of her companions. "He was a snarling bear yesterday but he's a happy lamb now, so…"

"Catherine… please…"

Taking pity on Vega, she continued, "As for Larry, I had no interest in finding out but I heard a few of the other dancers talk… still waters and all that. I stayed as far from him as I could most of the time, but… the man had quite a rep. In fact… a few said he was a little freaky-deeky… liked to…"

"Sorry, babe, but that did it!" Casey moaned. "I'm donning a habit and becoming a None Nun. Larry Ware and freaky-deeky so don't belong in the same sentence!"

Shaking his head at their combined teasing, Jim warned, "Payback is hell."

"I'll live in dread. Are those pancakes still warm?" the smirking CSI asked, the tense set of her shoulders easing as she enjoyed the moment.

Catherine had come looking for a chance to hassle her friend and escape the somber gloom of the lab as much as for a warm breakfast. The rumors about the couple's 'alone time' in the gym had begun swirling before they left to make their way back to the bunkroom. Intended or not, speculating about the 'possibilities' had given the entire force a much needed diversion… even if the thought of Brass having a love life was more than a little disconcerting to a few of the rookies. If she managed to score a stack of hot pancakes in the bargain, her day was off to a manageable start.

"If you promise not to tell me any more about Larry, I'll make you a fresh batch," Casey offered, giving a mock shudder. "I won't be able to keep a straight face at the next partner's meeting. Who knew!"

"So, you were on The Eclipse design team?" Catherine asked, discretely leading the conversation back to the path it had been following when she arrived. "Besides, Larry and Sam who else do you know that I might?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Casey focused on the griddle, missing the meaningful looks being exchanged by her companions. "The cast of characters changed from meeting to meeting. A few of his investors… I can't remember their names. Bill Curris… Bart Aiello were usually there. Donna… I don't remember her last name. I'm pretty sure she was an accountant. Doug… Schwartz maybe. A few others, but I'm bad with names."

"Yeah, Doug Schwartz," Catherine confirmed. "I've known him and Bart for years… Bill's family. He worked for Sam from the start… was one of only a handful of people he really trusted."

"I always enjoyed his stories of old Vegas… more than a few meetings got started late because listening to him was more fun than work," Casey recalled. "I got the feeling he knew where all the bodies were buried."

"Literally and figuratively," the other woman confirmed. "Donna… was it Donna Abrams?

"Could be… knockout brunette with impressive… assets if that helps," Casey supplied. "Now that I think about it… Larry did give her the eye. Then, I didn't pay it much attention, but now that I know… I so didn't need to know he followed the Vegas rule!"

Mentally connecting another of their victims to Casey, Jim forced himself to ask, "Vegas rule… as in 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas'?"

Chuckling, Casey flipped the last of the pancakes onto a clean plate as she turned to face the table. "Yeah. On behalf of the entire Miami office, ignorance is bliss in the case of Larry 'the stud' Ware!"

-----

"The FBI sent us the information on Woods' tractor-trailer rig… a 1996 Kenworth T600… medium blue cab with a white trailer," Nick supplied, as he dropped a file onto the stack in the middle of his supervisor's desk. "He was an independent long-haul trucker… owned his cab and a refrigeration trailer."

"OK," Gil acknowledged. "Are they thinking Keyser has it… is possibly using it?"

Nodding, the younger CSI added, "It's passed through a couple of weight stations on I-15 in the past year… long after we believe Woods was murdered."

"Well… he could have sold it before he died?"

"It's still registered in Missouri… Woods is the RO according to their records," Nick countered. "The taxes and insurance are current… last payment was made two months ago using the bogus account in the Caymans."

"Now, that's harder to explain unless it's Keyser," Grissom admitted. "We need to issue an APB on the rig. Since he knows we've made the connection to Woods, my guess is he's already disposed of it... sold it hopefully, but he may try to ditch it out in the desert."

Nodding, Nick observed, "Maybe, but the cab has a sleeper compartment. He could be living out of the cab since we've run him out of both the house on Cobalt and the ranch. He may need a place to crash while he regroups. As for the trailer… hell, who knows what he might be storing in there."

"OK. I'll…"

"There's more… may be big," Nick interjected, reaching out to tap the file. "The Woods had three children. In the '80's, they were living in St. Louis area…. in Tilden, the home of Carl Johansson, van thief and junkie… site of the house fire that nearly killed Patrick McMullen."

The cup of coffee Grissom was lifting froze midway to his mouth. "Tilden? They're sure?"

"Yeah, they are."

"Well… that's a huge piece of the puzzle," the senior CSI observed. "Have our friends been able to find a link that connects all three?"

"Actually… it looks like Keyser's the link. Agent Coleman's sending me a full report, but I got the highlights from him when we talked," Nick supplied. "Apparently, St. Louis really is the gateway to the west."

"OK… start filling in the gaps."

"Well… the Woods' daughter's name is Suzanne Roselyn. Their two sons were almost grown when she was born. Henry, Jr., is in the Air Force… currently stationed in Germany. The other son… Jack, lives in Cleveland… manages a fast food restaurant," the younger man outlined.

"After their mother's death, their father sold the house in Tilden and started living on the road in his truck cab… kept in infrequent contact with both of them… a few phone calls and the odd email or letter. It had been a couple of years since he'd last made contact… they'd filed missing person reports across the country looking for him," Nick reported. "Jack saw the report of our search at their grandparent's ranch on CNN and contacted the FBI."

Frowning, Grissom questioned, "Why hadn't they contacted Nye since Woods was telling people he planned to move there?"

Sighing, Nick reported, "They thought the ranch had been sold to pay for their mom's medical expenses. Apparently, Woods hadn't mentioned the ranch to either of his sons in years, so… they didn't think to look there."

"Hell of a way to find him," Gil mused. "And… the daughter's name is Suzanne Roselyn?"

"Yeah."

Pursing his lips as he let the new information filter through his agile mind, Gil observed, "Sue… and Rose would be the diminutives of her name. Rose Joyner used the name Sue when she was staying at CASA shelter. Is it possible they're the same woman?"

"It's more than possible. An old Minneapolis driver's license for a Sue McGovern was among the ones we found in the stash at Cobalt… it was one of the ones we sent them to ID since her name wasn't on the list of known victims from the region."

"The FBI used it to make the final link. Coleman emailed me a picture… her wedding portrait. She's wearing the same necklace as the one Rose Joyner left at the shelter. The neighbor down in Henderson told them Rose said was a gift from her grandmother," Nick replied. "Jack Woods confirmed Mrs. Nichols gave his sister the necklace on her wedding day… it's a family heirloom. It all fits."

"Well… that does fill in quite a few gaps," his boss acknowledged. "Do we know how she ended up in Henderson married to Keyser? Run the known timeline on her."

"Sue met Eric McGovern in college… they married in 1994 and moved to Minneapolis that summer when he took a job working for a bank," the younger man replied resuming his report.

"Minneapolis? You mentioned the driver's license…"

"Yeah… Tilden to the Twin Cities. Jack Woods told Agent Coleman that Eric was bored to tears working at the bank… that he was obsessed with computer games… started designing some on his own. Apparently, he was a natural… began selling them for some serious money," Stokes reported. "By 2000, his days at the bank were behind him and he had a freelance gig with a software gaming company… Metalworks. Between his games and her job as a school teacher, they were doing pretty well."

"Metalworks? That's the name of the company where Eric Joyner was supposed to be working, right?"

"Right," Nick confirmed.

After mulling over the new information for several seconds, Grissom asked, "Did Woods tell him why his brother-in-law started using the name Joyner? And… does it explain why Keyser ended up in Minneapolis? Was Eric his partner in crime?"

Shaking his head, Nick countered, "Not likely from what they've uncovered. It looks like the link isn't to Eric; it's to Rose… well, Sue actually."

Rubbing wearily at his eyes, Gil prompted, "OK. What was the link to Sue?"

"Apparently, she was nearly abducted on two occasions in 2000. The McGoverns took off in September… left everything they owned behind and just split," Nick supplied. "That was during the time the Lakeland Killer's crimes were gaining serious attention. After the second attempt, they ran hoping to protect her."

"So… the FBI thinks Keyser took his killings on the road from St. Louis to Minneapolis because he was after Suzanne Woods… a woman we now believe died at his hands here in Nevada?" Gil questioned.

"Beginning to look that way." Sighing, Nick added, "Until now, we didn't know why he moved up there. All of his other moves appear to be related to tracking his father."

"What else have they uncovered?"

"According to Jack Woods, neither family knew where they had gone for several years… then a letter arrived at his aunt's home in Norman, Oklahoma letting them know they were safe… had settled in Texas and changed their names to Joyner," Nick continued. "A few more letters… then nothing. Neither family has heard from either of them since."

"He found them."

Nodding, Nick concluded, "I'd put money on it. Since Sue ended up here, the FBI is looking into any unsolved murders fitting Eric McGovern's description between here and Texas. Metalworks hasn't heard from him in almost four years… some promised updates to one of his games were never delivered, so odds are he's dead."

"I wouldn't hold my breath that his remains will ever be found," Grissom observed. "Keyser was feeding his kills to the alligators along the Gulf Coast during that period."

"Did Brass get anything from that address Sofia got for Joyner in Austin, Texas?" Nick asked.

"Address was for a boarded up house, been vacant for years," the older man supplied. "From what Austin PD told him, the house is tied up in litigation stemming from a failed land development. Developers bought up several blocks of older homes with plans to tear them down to make way for a new subdivision. Front man for the development disappeared with all the money… no trace of him has surfaced since he crossed the Mexican border. The FBI's still digging for a connection to Keyser… local FBI's in the mix."

"Sounds familiar," Nick observed, "…man disappears along with his money."

"Yeah, it does."

Sighing, the younger CSI summarized, "Bottom line… it looks like Keyser was the man living in Henderson using Eric's name, probably keeping Sue prisoner… his slave. She escaped and he tracked her down… killed her. The only other option is McGovern became an abuser and was knocking Sue around. Jack Woods is certain that's completely out of character for the man he knew, so… I'm betting it was Keyser."

"Henderson had him and never knew who he was," Grissom sighed.

"They also think he's stealing the royalty payments on McGovern's games," Stokes supplied. "All trace of those funds has disappeared. Metalworks's depositing all future payments in an escrow account while the FBI looks for Eric, so he won't get anymore. If he's still alive, he'll contact them pretty quickly to find out what's happened."

"But Keyser isn't likely to run that risk. Insult to injury… he kills someone and steals their identity, siphoning off as much of their estate as he can before someone gets wise to his game," the scientist summarized. "This information also explains how he knew about Henry Woods and the ranch over in Nye County."

"Jack told the FBI agent that his dad was spending all of his time looking for Sue… working only sporadically to pay the bills so he could devote 24/7 to finding her," Nick offered. "He promised his wife on her deathbed to bring her home, so… He would call when he thought about it, but… finding Sue consumed him. The last time he called, he told Jack he had a fresh lead… said he was meeting another trucker that had been helping him look for Sue."

"A lead that probably got him killed," Gil muttered. "When was that call? Do we have a name of the man he was meeting?"

"That call was a little over two years ago… around the time we think Sue and her father both died," Nick replied. "The FBI traced it to a payphone at a diner in T or C, New Mexico. Nobody remembered seeing or talking to him. Not surprising given how long it's been. Jack wasn't sure of the other trucker's name… Ernie… Arnie, maybe."

Frowning, Gil asked, "T or C?"

"Yeah… Truth or Consequences… small town off I-25 in southwestern New Mexico. Town changed its name to win a contest sponsored by that old game show," Nick supplied, a faint smile easing the exhausted lines on his face. It wasn't often he bested his boss with a bit of obscure trivia. "Feds are following up hoping to figure out what happened to Woods… but…"

"We have three unidentified men from the graves at the ranch," Gil inserted.

Nodding, his subordinate agreed. "I reminded Agent Coleman of that, but… without a name, no way to find DNA or dental records to match to one of those bodies."

"Yeah," Grissom agreed. "I'll get Brass to give Austin a call… see if we can get something from the missing developer to run against what we have. May be a long-shot, but… if he crossed paths with Keyser…"

"… he may be dead," Nick completed. "Sue McGovern seems to be the only person to have survived more than a few weeks after coming into contact with Keyser. Henderson needs to reopen the investigation into the death of the neighbor. He killed her too… I don't have any doubts. He just did a better job of hiding his crime that time."

"I'll talk to Sofia… get her to call Platner. It's clear he wants Casey to take Sue's place as he live-in slave," Gil agreed. "He told her nobody gets away from him, no matter how long they hide. We know that was true in the case of the McGoverns."

"Yeah."

"The daily briefing is in two hours. We can update the rest of the task force then," Grissom instructed. "Ask the FBI to send us a DNA sample from Jack Woods so we can conclusively establish the familial link to his father and sister… give her back her real name. At least, her brothers can give them both a proper burial… best we can offer until we find this bastard."

-----

"Keller… we have you surrounded," Vartann called. "This doesn't have to end ugly. Let the woman go and give yourself up."

"I didn't mean to hurt her! You got to believe that. I loved her!"

Trading a look with the uniformed officer crouching next to him behind the door of his car, the detective tried again. "Look… you can explain all of that to me at the station… I'll listen, but not while you have a gun to a woman's head. She didn't do anything, so let her go… now!"

"I don't want to get shot!" Keller's voice whined. "You got to promise me…"

"Let her go, then throw out your weapon… nobody is going to shoot you if you give yourself up," Vartann insisted. "You keep this up and someone is going to get antsy… make a mistake. We don't want that to happen… so be smart about this. Let her go and give yourself up."

"If I do it… you promise me I won't get shot?"

"Yeah… I have your back, OK? Just tell us she's coming out and this can end peacefully," Lew ordered. "Once she's safe, all you have to do is follow my instructions and you'll be fine. Now… are you letting her go?"

Two minutes passed with agonizing slowness… then, "OK… I'm sending her out."

Vartann shouted so everyone in the area could hear his orders. "The hostage is coming out. Everybody hold your fire and do not… I repeat, do not fire at anything."

Seeing nods from the other officers ringing the scene, the homicide detective instructed, "OK, Keller… send her out. Once we have her safely out of the way, I want you to toss your weapon out into the open so we can all see it. Understood?"

A few seconds passed before they heard their suspect agree. "OK… here she comes."

The words had barely left his mouth when a young woman stumbled into view, then ran toward him, her eyes wild with fear. A tangle of bright red hair all but obscured most of her face, but what was visible was covered by a large purpling bruise. Mitch Mitchell sprang forward to wrap his arm protectively around her waist and pull her behind the safety of the line of police cars blocking the parking lot.

"OK… we have her," Lew announced, relieved to have the hostage safely out of the line of fire. "Slide out your weapon… make sure it gets out far enough so we can all see it. Do it NOW!"

A handgun skittered into view as all of the officers tensed for the final act. "OK, Tom… lace your fingers together behind your head and walk out slowly… no sudden movements. Walk until I tell you to stop… then drop to your knees with your hands still behind your head. Understood?"

"OK… I'm coming out. Don't shoot!"

Two minutes later, Vartann watched as his suspect was shoved into the back of a patrol car. Brass and Ecklie appeared to his right, both having elected to stay behind the lines while the younger man handled the scene. "Well… is it him?"

Looking over to meet his superior's gaze, he shook his head. "No. Nothing wrong with his hand that I saw… and he's right handed. Big tiger tattoo on his upper body's too noticeable for our witnesses to have missed even with the burn scars. None of it adds up to him being Keyser."

"So…" Ecklie began, "why did he run… grab a hostage?"

"I don't know yet, but I plan to find out," Vartann growled. "He said… 'I didn't mean to hurt her'. I'll put money on there being a body out there with his name on it."

Sighing, Jim ordered, "Keep me posted."

-----

"I just spoke to Robbins," Gil began. "He got a familial match on the DNA sample we got from Connor Edward's brother to one of the bodies in the graves at the Nichols Ranch. A comparison to dental records confirms the ID… the body that had been in the ground for less than two months was Edwards."

Nodding, Jim offered, "I was expecting that. Harris and Sanders are piecing together the last knowns on Edwards… beginning with the apartment he was renting over on Tropicana. Since he's been dead for only two months, maybe the trail isn't completely cold."

"We can only hope," Gil agreed. "No pops on the APB on his Accord?"

"Not yet," Brass sighed. "I have patrol pulling over any 2003 in case he's changed out the tag… maybe painted it. I'll let you know if they find anything. Since the Sheriff released the surveillance footage Dempseys gave us, wouldn't surprise me if he's ditched it too."

-----

"Remember Elizabeth Eller… the dancer from the Acid Drop?"

Looking up to study the exhausted look on the younger man's face, Jim motioned toward the chair across from him. "Yeah… she went missing after finishing her shift… never made it home… didn't pick up her son from the sitter. We've had her on the possibles list for months. Is that who Keller was apologizing for hurting?"

"Yeah," Vartann confirmed. "He was waiting for her outside the club… said he planned to ask her out. She said no… it went downhill rapidly from there. He dumped the body out in the desert. The case was originally Holstein's so he plans to take him out there once it gets light and try to recover the remains. "

"Good work. I'll talk to Zek… hook him up with a CSI from one of the other shifts to help process whatever they find." Jim praised.

"Wrong guy."

"He killed a woman on our watch… a single mother whose son will grow up without her," Brass replied. "From all we know about him, my guess is it was only a matter of time before he killed again. You got the bad guy… that's the job."

Noting the weary quality to the nod he received, Jim ordered, "Grab a few hours sleep, then you need to crawl up Auto Detail's backside and camp out until they find the chop shop where he's fencing the stolen vehicles. The lab thinks they have the CAT stop ID'ed where Keyser caught the bus back to the shopping center after he got rid of Valerie Davis' SUV."

Pushing himself to his feet, Lew nodded. "Right. One bad guy down, but no end in sight."

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4-6-2010