Chapter 29 : Present – 10:45 AM

EMT Casey Thompson watched Grissom and Brass walk in. Brass stopped, leaning on the chair at the end of the table. Grissom took a seat across from Casey. He opened the file folder and sorted through the items to find the one he wanted to start with. Casey looked from Brass to Grissom and back.

"Is it true?" Casey asked.

Brass and Grissom both looked at him.

"Is what true?" Grissom asked.

"Was Greg really engaged to that girl?"

"Yes. Casey, we subpoenaed your fingerprints that you gave when you began working at Life Shield. They matched the fingerprints on the tubing used to strangle Capri, and--"

"I heard that Greg is a suspect. Is he?"

Grissom hesitated a moment. "We aren't talking about Greg."

"Is he or not?"

"I can't answer that."

"He is, isn't he?"

Grissom didn't confirm or deny the question. Casey leaned on the table.

"Why would he get involved with her? She led my partner and me right into a shootout. He died because of her. And then there were those three firefighters trying to find a place in a hail storm, and drove right off an unfinished overpass because of her directions. She nearly got Catherine and Greg killed by stranding them in the desert. Why would he want to marry her?"

"Casey, the firefighter's never received directions from Capri. They were using their GPS which had been tampered with. The shootout happened because of the CSI vehicle, not because you were in the wrong place. The gang members were following Nick. Catherine decided not to turn back when she realized the directions were wrong."

"She still couldn't get the directions right!"

"Casey, your thumbprint--"

"And then I found out she was re-hired. They were going to put her back on the radio! Dispatch didn't figure out a year ago that she was a danger to everyone?"

"You believed she was rehired as a dispatcher?"

"Yes!"

"Is that why you killed her?" Grissom asked. Casey seemed all too willing to talk.

"I have to know if Greg is a suspect. Is he?"

"Why would that matter?"

Casey hesitated. Grissom leaned forward.

"Casey, did you kill Capri?"

Casey looked down at his hands. "Greg didn't hurt her. I saw him leave her place, saw them kiss. He deserved better than that tramp. I saved him from a dangerous woman."

"Did you kill her?"

"Yes."

"For Greg or your partner?"

"For everyone!" Casey looked up at him. "For every EMS out there. For every CSI. She was coming back! She was going to get more people killed. More victims would die because we couldn't get to them in time. I saved more lives by killing one."

Grissom sighed. "I'm afraid, Casey, utilitarianism doesn't clear you of murder charges."

"You're under arrest, Casey. Come on," Brass said as he took his arm and pulled him to his feet to handcuff him.

"I saved Greg, Doctor Grissom."

"Greg was in love, Casey. He didn't need a savior. And Capri had been hired as a receptionist, not as a dispatcher."

Casey stared at Grissom as if what Grissom had just said cut him to the bone. Grissom wasn't sure if it was finding out what job Capri really had been given, or something much deeper, that caused Casey's pain.

#

Behind the one-way mirror, Greg had watched and listened to the interview. Internally he rushed into the room and threw Casey out of the chair. He ripped his limbs off and scratched out the EMT's eyes. He strung him up from the beam overhead with a noose and with a cold, hateful glare, watched the man asphyxiate. It made him smile when Casey stopped twitching.

But in the real world, Greg did nothing. He watched the man led out of the room in silence. His hands, clammy and limp, hung motionless at his sides. The door closed, shutting Casey from his view. Grissom gathered up his case file, also leaving. Greg stared at the empty room.

"I'm sorry, Greg," a soft voice said.

Was it Capri? Was she really alive? Greg's heart leapt as he turned his head. Then it sunk back into his black depression when he found Grissom standing there. Greg looked away.

"Is there anything I can do?" Grissom asked.

Greg didn't answer.

"Do you need me to call anyone? Did she have family?"

Greg slowly shook his head.

"None?"

"I was it."

Grissom walked up to Greg, reaching out a hand. Greg dodged it, turning to face Grissom. The thought of any human touching him made Greg's rage flare. He didn't want human contact. He didn't want anyone near him. Grissom seemed to sense it and didn't try again.

"How long do you want for bereavement?" Grissom asked.

Greg didn't answer.

Grissom nodded, adding as if Greg had said something, "Two weeks is okay. If you need longer or less, you can call me. I'll make it happen."

Greg didn't speak.

Grissom turned and left. Greg sank to the floor and hugged his knees. He couldn't cry, even though he felt the need. His scream was stuck like sticky dough in his chest. Greg closed his eyes. The adrenaline that had been coursing through him all night slowly let go of him, and he slipped into sleep. Relaxing, his body slid to the floor, leaving him in deep sleep.

That was where Nick found him when he came looking for him. He left and came back with a blanket, a handful of case files, and a soda. He covered Greg, sat down next to him, and started writing reports he'd been procrastinating on for weeks.