STANDARD PROCEDURE

Catherine wound up back in the audio visual lab with Warrick and Archie ten minutes later. All of them were armed with extremely leaded coffee and the same surveillance footage from Phoebe's apartment. But this time; instead of looking at the video from the alley; they were looking at the video from the front entrance. There were only two ways out of Phoebe's apartment and the only people exiting the building from the back way were Nigel and Phoebe. So they were scanning the front entrance footage for anyone wearing similar shoes to the print they found in the photograph. So far, after searching an hours worth of footage, they hadn't found anyone.

"Maybe we should widen the search parameters." Archie suggested.

"Arch; we haven't seen anyone even remotely close to who we're looking for; just heels and slippers." Catherine told him; rubbing her temple.

"So maybe we're looking at this the wrong way." Warrick spoke up. "Maybe the guy didn't leave. What if he lives in Phoebe's apartment?"

xxx

Nick clicked enter on the computer screen to print out his results. Well, technically they were Phoebe's results. He didn't regret using his break to help her out; not one bit. In the two years she'd worked in Vegas he'd felt he'd gotten to know her well enough that she wouldn't manipulate him into helping her. He also knew that she would do the same for him if he asked. Plus; he wanted to make her happy; where was the harm in that?

"Nicky; give me good news, man." Phoebe said pleadingly as she came into the lab.

Nick proudly handed her the printout. "Blood tests show that DNA does not match the father." Nick told her. "Brother did it; just like you thought."

"Son of a bitch, Nick." Phoebe muttered as she glanced over the results. Then she looked up at Nick. "You just solved my case." She grabbed his chin and kissed him firmly on the mouth. "Thank you." She patted his cheek and exited the lab; results in hand, leaving Nick with a stunned look on his face.

A sharp knock at his door awoke Nick from his peaceful dream. He realized he'd fallen asleep on the couch and vaguely remembered saying goodnight to Jack and Penny a few hours before. He checked his watch and realized it hadn't been that long ago. It was early afternoon but Nick hadn't been asleep more then two hours. He rubbed his hands over his face and got to his feet.

He thought of his dream as he went to answer the door, which was the first time Phoebe had kissed him. It had been two years ago when they were still just friends. Nick had a feeling Phoebe probably didn't even remember that day; but it had stuck in Nick's mind for two years and counting.

Checking his peephole before he opened it; Nick's heart leapt nervously as he saw Brass and Sara standing on his front step. He pulled open the door a little faster then he would've liked. "Jim? What happened? Did you find her?"

Brass shook his head. "Can we come in?" he asked.

Nick's heart dropped back down as he moved aside and let Jim and Sara in. He noticed Sara had her kit but didn't ask why. He folded his arms across his chest as he stood in front of his friends. "What's going on?"

"How you doing, Nick?" Brass asked.

"What's going on, Jim?" Nick asked again; more firmly this time.

Brass sighed. "Day shift crew found a footprint on a photo of you and Phoebe at her apartment." He said slowly.

"Nigel's?" Nick asked.

"Well, that's what I thought. But the print was bigger then his shoe size. Nigel's a nine, the print was an eleven." Sara told him sorrowfully.

"So…?" Nick wasn't sure where they were going with this.

"It's standard procedure in cases like this, Nick." Brass said holding up his hands. "We gotta go by the book. You were in that apartment."

Anger and astonishment rose in Nick's heart. "You think I'm a suspect?!" he yelled.

"Nick; your work profile says you're an 11, you were in the crime scene. This is just how it has to go." Brass told him.

Nick shook his head violently. "No."

"Nick; I know you didn't do this but if it was any other case-"

"It's not any other case!" Nick cut in. "This is Phoebe! She's…you can't…" he didn't know how to finish his sentence.

"What the hell is going on out here?" Jack stormed out of the spare bedroom looking tired and confused. He recognized Brass and Sara. "What are you doing here? Have you found my girl?"

"They wanna take my shoe prints." Nick told Jack while staring menacingly at Brass. The more reasonable side of his brain told him that his friends were just doing there job; they didn't really think of him as a suspect. But the side of his brain that had taken of Nick's body was condeming his colleagues for even having thought he had anything to do with Phoebe's kidnapping.

"What? That's insane!" Jack snapped at Jim as he came to Nick's side. "This boy loves my daughter; how could you think he had anything to do with it?"

"Sir; calm down." Brass told him. "We all wanna find Phoebe but I was just telling Nick; this has to be done by the book or we won't get anywhere."

"It's a formality, Nick." Sara told her friend. "You know that. I'll be done as quick as I can."

Nick relented and nodded his head. It was just easier to agree at this point.

xxx

"Ok, so Phoebe's earring definitely puts her in that ally." Greg told Grissom as they walked towards the lab. "Like the footage of Nigel hauling her outta there wasn't enough."

"What about the metal shavings?" Grissom asked.

"My theory panned out; they were from a police badge." Greg opened the file he was carrying and showed his results to Grissom. "And we lucked out; there was trihexamine in the metal shavings."

"They stopped using that in police badges years ago." Grissom told Greg.

Greg nodded. "Found to cause skin discoloration; I know. But that means that Nigel didn't get a knock off, he got an old officers police badge. Probably from a garage sale or police auction or something."

Grissom considered this. "Any luck on the car?"

"Well, Archie's 99 sure its an SUV; dark colour. Nothing concrete yet." Greg pulled out a still photo he'd received from Archie barely five minutes ago. "But he did get this." He pointed to an enhanced sticker on the back of the car.

Grissom squinted through his glasses to read the sticked. "Vegas Rentals." He read.

"Car rental company." Greg informed him. "Sent a picture of Nigel along with Detective Vega and Warrick to check it out.

"Nice, Greg." Grissom smiled. "Very nice."

xxx

Warrick and Detective Vega pulled up to Vegas Rentals at about four in the afternoon. After barely two hours sleep; Warrick was groggy but determined to chase this lead down. He was armed with a warrant to search the company's records and the photo of Nigel to show around. Vega flashed his badge to a few salesmen who directed them to the office of Fred Carrington; owner and manager of Vegas Rentals.

After a quick briefing of why they were there, Warrick handed the photo to Fred. "This is the man we're looking for. He rented a dark car from you; possibly an SUV, sometime in the last week."

"Oh…yeah." Fred nodded. "Yeah; I remember him. Bob and I served him; he was giving Davy a hard time." Fred nodded to a young salesman outside who was talking with prospective customers. "Bob's been here awhile now."

"Hard time?" Vega asked.

"Well, he wasn't rude or anything, just very specific in what he wanted." Fred started looking through a filing cabinet under his desk. "Dark green SUV."

"Did he appear agitated to you?" Vega asked.

"Actually, yeah. Now that you mention it." Fred nodded. "He didn't…didn't seem quite right. Kept saying 'dark green SUV; just like his. Just like his.'" The man shrugged as he reappeared from underneath his desk. " I asked him who he was talking about but he just ignored me. Rented him a car and sent him on his way." He handed the papers he'd retrieved to Vega who handed them to Warrick. "I have three SUV's, all dark green. Got two left; no one really likes renting 'em."

"Did he say anything about why he needed the car?" Vega continued.

"Well; its part of our policy to ask as many questions as we can before we rent a car to people." Fred told him. "We found way to many of our cars sold for parts; y'know? But this guy…he just said it was for a friend. He wanted his friend to see."

"Sir, forgive me for saying, but if you saw this guy was not all there; why would you rent him a $25000 vehicle?" Warrick asked.

"Mr Brown; I'll level with you. Business has been slow this year. I mean, including this guy, I've rented out five vehicles this month. Five! For a whole month!" Fred shook his head. "The SUV is pretty much the most expensive one we rent out. I'm behind in bills, gotta three kids to send to college and grand-baby on the way. I needed the cash."

"How did he pay?" Warrick asked.

"Cash." Fred answered immediately. "I remember 'cos it was all in fifties; the whole deposit."

"He say when he'd return the car?" Warrick asked as he made some notes.

"He rented it for two weeks." Fred told them. "Seemed like he was really eager to get somewhere though."

"Any chance we can speak to Bob?" Vega asked.

"Yeah; you bet. He's in the lunch room; taking a break." Fred pointed them to a small room behind them.

"Thank you, sir." Detective Vega told Fred as he and Warrick headed to talk to Bob.

They found Bob Giles drinking a can of coke and watching a soap on TV. He was wearing dirty jeans and a faded white shirt and had his dark boots up on the desk beside him. He didn't look up at Warrick and Vega when they entered.

"Bob Giles?" Vega asked him.

"Whose askin'?" He still didn't look at them.

"I'm Detective Vega with LVPD; this is Warrick Brown; CSI. We wanna talk to you about a customer you served a couple of days ago; Nigel Crane?" Vega told the man.

"Never heard of him." Bob answered.

"Well, you're boss told us you served him personally." Warrick said as he showed Bob the picture. "Surely you remember him a little bit?"

Bob sighed and snatched the picture out of Warrick's hand. He glanced at it and handed it back. "Yeah; I rented him a car, so what?"

"He's an escaped criminal." Vega told him as Warrick walked around to stand between Bob and the TV.

"You sayin' he took off with our car?" Bob asked as Warrick crossed his view. "Hey; do you mind, buddy? I'm watchin' that!"

Warrick eyed the soles of Bob's boots. "This is some nice footwear, buddy." He told him. "What are you, a ten?"

"Eleven." Bob replied proudly.

"They Jefferson's?" Warrick nodded at the boots.

"Hell yeah; they are." Bob answered again. "Why?"

"Just noticed you have a lotta glass in them." Warrick glared at the man. It was glass from the photo frame in Phoebe's apartment; Warrick knew it was. This man had something to do with Phoebe's abduction.