Chapter 5: LAWYER UP


After ten minutes into the interrogation, Brass steps outside the room, peering through the two-way glass and watches as Larry nervously paces back and forth the perimeter. The convenience store owner refused to speak with the authorities until his lawyer was present. Larry had Brass call his lawyer, who informed him that they would be there in half an hour. Sometime later, officer Sanchez joins Brass, handing him a bottle of water while they wait for Larry's lawyer to arrive.

"Thanks," said Brass taking the bottle from Sanchez. Brass uncaps it and takes a swig.

"He still isn't talking?" asked Sanchez.

Brass finished swallowing then re-capped the bottle before replying. "Nope, not without his lawyer. I asked Larry if he knew his rights, to which he replied, "I know I have the right to an attorney," so he lawyered up, and my hands are tied until he shows up."

"She," said a voice from behind.

Brass and officer Sanchez turn around simultaneously. Standing before then is a woman wearing an eggplant-colored pantsuit and a chocolate-colored briefcase in tow. Her brown wavy hair is pulled back in a large, claw hair clip.

"I'm defense attorney Colleen Atwood. You claim that my client threatened to assault someone. Where is he?"

"In there," said Brass, thumbing over his shoulder. Colleen took it upon herself to enter the interrogation room.

Larry quit pacing, then looked up. "Thank God you're here!" he exclaims in a relieved tone. "There seems to be some confusion..."

"I'm glad we can agree on that, mister Waters. As far as I'm concerned, you are innocent," said Colleen. "They have no definitive evidence to prove that you threatened to assault anyone. Shall we?" she asks, motioning towards the door to leave.

"Hold up!" announces Brass as he enters then closes the door to the interrogation room. "Why don't you both take a seat?" He gestures to the chairs provided before seating himself. Brass looks in Colleen's direction before continuing. "As a matter of fact, we do have definitive if not damning evidence to support the fact that your client," he turns to look at Larry, "did threaten to assault not one but two guys with... a crowbar I believe it was?"

Colleen rolls her eyes impatiently. "Well, where's this so-called damning evidence?"

"Cool your jets, lady," advised Brass. "A CSI is on their way now. Let's just give 'em the benefit of the doubt."

Larry is unable to meet Brass's gaze. He seems nervous and fidgety, unable to sit still as he bounces his left leg. Nick enters the interrogation room. He wheels a TV cart equipped with all they will need to review the tapes from the security footage.

"Sorry it took so long," says Nick. "I had to borrow this TV cart from the lab. You'd think being a police station that you guys would have one of these."

It takes a moment or two for him to set up the equipment, and Larry feels he can't wait any longer. The convenience store owner leans over to whisper something in confidence to his lawyer.

"I don't like secrets," quips Brass leaning forward with his hands clasped. "Is there something that you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"

Colleen advises Larry that he doesn't have to respond. Instead, he tries to get up from his seat, but Brass refuses to let Larry leave.

"Please be seated, mister Waters. My associate, "Brass says, referring to Nick," will have our little feature presentation-ready in a moment. Trust me; you won't wanna miss it. I haven't even seen it yet myself."

"All righty, I think I've finally got everything set up..." says Nick. He begins scrunching his nose from the unpleasant smell that has filled the room. "Does it smell like... urine to anyone else?"

"See, this is why we don't keep secrets," says Brass to Larry. "If you had to go to the bathroom, all you had to do was ask."

"I'm sorry," is all Larry can say as he looks down at his lap. The convenience store owner appears more relaxed but embarrassed. His bouncing leg was the only thing that kept his mind off of how badly he had to go to the bathroom. As a result, Larry relieved himself onto the chair.

"Obviously, my client isn't familiar with the procedure of being interrogated," says Colleen. "Otherwise, he could have known he could have left the room at any given time to use the facilities." She insists that Brass allow her client to take a break from being interrogated so he can clean himself up.

"I'll allow it," agrees Brass.

They all leave the interrogation room. Nick stands outside of the room, Brass notifies a custodian to clean up the mess, Larry goes to the bathroom, and Colleen fetches a pair of clean pants for her client to wear. Sanchez stands outside the door of the entrance to the Men's room. He's waiting for Larry to finish doing his business. Larry checks under the stall door to see if he's alone.

Once he's done checking for clearance, Larry takes off his pants. He pumps a couple of dollops of hand soap from the dispenser into the stained area of his pants, places them in the sink, runs the water then attempts to scrub the smell out of them. Using the hand dryer, Larry tries to dry his pants. A sudden knock at the door startles him.

"Mister Waters?" Sanchez calls out through the bathroom door. "Are you about done in there?"

Larry straightens his glasses. "Uh... just a moment!" Using the unoccupied sink next to him, Larry splashes cold water on himself. He leans over the sink, placing either hand on both sides, attempting to get a grip on his nerves. "Easy, everything's going to be fine, even though that cop is intimidating. You have nothing to fear."

Larry frantically slips his pants back on, placing one leg in then the other before zipping, then buttoning them up and re-buckling his belt. The stain is mostly dry, but there's still a hint of urine smell to his pants. A second knock on the door causes him to grow impatient.

"Would you please..." says Larry, who feels rushed but his tone changes once he realizes who's knocking.

"Larry, it's Colleen," she announces through the door. "I got you a clean pair of pants. They're not exactly what you asked for, but if you open the door, I'll hand them to you."

Larry unlocks the door but only cracks it open far enough to see through. He spots his attorney standing in front of the door and officer Sanchez with his back turned.

"Those aren't the pants that I asked for; I told you I'm a thirty-six waist," explains Larry opening the door a little further.

"These are a thirty-six," replies Colleen, unfolding the pants holding them up for Larry to see.

He argues with her. "No, those are sweat pants; I wanted khaki pants like the ones I was wearing earlier." Larry reluctantly takes them from her then notices that they don't have a tag. "Where did you get these?"

"The lost and found," Colleen admits. Larry shoots her a look of disgust. Colleen rolls her eyes. "What do you expect? I'm an attorney, not a personal shopper. I did the best I could on short notice."

"Thanks, Alan," says Brass to the custodian as he wheels his mop and bucket out of the interrogation room. "Now that Larry is all cleaned up, shall we?" he says, gesturing for Larry and Colleen to re-enter the room. Nick files in after them.

Once everyone is seated, Nick pops the tape into the VCR, and they all watch as it plays. It shows Larry standing behind the counter at the cash register. Miles and Matt enter the convenience store right around 9:00 PM. Larry greets them. Miles makes his way to the storefront approaching the counter. He points to the cigarettes behind Larry to distract him. As Larry's back is turned, Matt moseys down the aisles to the liquor shelf, swiping a six-pack under his arm. Larry rings up Miles's cigarettes but becomes furious as he realizes Matt is trying to head out of the sore without paying for the six-pack. Larry steps out from behind the counter. An argument ensues between the three men. The footage shows Larry leaving, stepping off the screen and out of frame.

"Where'd you go?" asks Brass to Larry.

Larry turns to look away. He can't bear to look in Brass's direction or watch the footage any further, which shows him returning with a crowbar. He violently swings it above his head, chasing Matt and Miles out of the store. The tape ends.

Colleen sighs in disbelief and disappointment in her client. "We're prepared to make a deal."

"Okay, how's this... what size shoe do you wear?" asks Brass.

"Excuse me?" replies Colleen.

"Not you," says Brass, "your client. Eh, Larry, what's your shoe size?"

Colleen turns to look at her client. "You don't have to answer..." she begins but is cut off.

"NO!" yells Larry in a stern voice startling his attorney, who jumps a little in her seat. "I'd rather cooperate and do as they ask than listen to you and go to jail. I wear a size ten and a half." He leans down and begins to untie his shoes.

"That won't be necessary," says Nick.

"Then why'd you ask?" inquires Colleen. Her curiosity had peaked.

"I'm glad you asked," replies Brass. "Here's our theory on your client. Larry had enough of local teenage sleuths terrorizing his store, and out-of-town rednecks are where he decided to draw the line." A tap on the glass causes Brass to pause his storytelling. "Excuse me," he says, scooting out of the chair to answer the door.

It's Catherine who hands over a manila-colored file folder. Brass flips it open, glances at it, and gives a complacent smile.

"Thank you." Brass closes the door, re-seats himself, and places the file folder in the center of the table.

"What's that?" asks Larry.

His attorney insists on seeing whatever is in the folder. Brass slides it closer for her to take a look. Colleen looks through, noting they are phone records of Larry's 9-1-1 distress calls to local law enforcement. They date back as far as two weeks ago. As she goes over them, Brass continues his theory.

"Knowing local law enforcement was doing nothing to help you. You had your son Adam install security cameras in your store, hoping to be taken a bit more seriously. You felt ignored and finally decided you've reached your breaking point. So you take justice into your own hands because you weren't about to let Matt and Miles go back on your deal."

"Wait? What deal?" wondered Larry in confusion.

"The one the three of you made when Matt and Miles won big at Tangiers, remember?" asks Brass. "Miles told us that the deal was simple $1K up front for as much beer as they wanted. Did you decide that wasn't enough?"

"No!" said Larry.

"Stop talking," Colleen advises.

"I'll bet you, you did," says Brass. "Which is why you took it out on Matt. You followed them to Miles's cousin's place. You stake the place out. But Miles is picked up by a friend leaving Matt by himself. You decide revenge on one of them is better than none. You meant to kill him and Miles but settled for the guy who was home alone. You kicked down the screen door and killed Matt."

"NO! No! I didn't kill anybody!" screams Larry as panic rises in his voice. He looks at his attorney with pleading eyes.

"Easy, mister Waters!" says Colleen trying to keep her client calm.

"I'd believe you," says Brass. "If we didn't have your shoe print on Miles's cousin's screen door."

Brass hopes they don't call his bluff. So far, Larry's was looking like their prime suspect in the case, but only if they can match his shoe print. Larry leans down to take off his shoes. This time he doesn't even bother untying them. Larry slips them off willingly, handing them over. Nick collects Larry's shoes as evidence and leaves the interrogation room.

"Do you really think that's what happened?" asked Catherine to Nick.

"I won't know until I make the comparison," Nick replies.


Catherine returns from the police station to the lab. She crosses paths with Grissom.

"Have you seen Hodges?" asks her supervisor.

"No, why?" she replies, but Grissom doesn't answer Catherine. Instead, he continues on his way.

Grissom walks past two workrooms and the break room before he comes across Hodges. He finds him flirting with a female lab technician in the hallway. Grissom stands just behind them, clearing his throat to make his presence known. The lab technician leaves. Hodges wonders why until he sees Grissom standing behind him. His confident grin fades to a look of embarrassment for having been caught flirting instead of working.

"I wanted to know more about that yellow bottle," says Grissom.

"Right the empty bottle of Antifreeze. What more is there to tell?" asks Hodges.

"Were there any fingerprints?"

"Uh, that's not my job," replies Hodges, who can tell from the look Grissom is giving him is not the answer he was expecting. "I mean, it is my job but Sara..."

"Thank you," says Grissom continuing on his way in search of her.

Being around Sara is the last thing Grissom needs right now, but if he and his team are going to get a lead in this investigation, she's the one to see. Grissom finds her analyzing fingerprints in the date base for comparison. Sara's sitting on a stool, resting her head on one hand while watching the computer compare prints. Her supervisor stands just outside of the doorway, unable to allow himself to approach her. Sara gets the feeling she is being watched, but by the time she turns around to see if someone's there, Grissom's gone. He felt light-headed and retreating to his office, closing the door behind him and leaning up against it.

Grissom closes his eyes, but they fly open at the sound of a voice.

"Hiding out, are we?"

It's Catherine. She steps out from the corner.

"Not you too," says Grissom, unable and unwilling to look in her direction for fear he's hallucinating her as well.

"Not me too?" Catherine repeats. "Are you feeling all right?" She steps closer towards her supervisor, who backs away from her. Catherine can tell he's on edge, so she stays where she is. "All right, I'll stay where I am." She speaks calmly and softly to Grissom. "Greg told me I might find you in here. He said you've been hiding out for the past couple of days."

"I trust that's not the only reason you're in my office," says Grissom, cautiously walking around Catherine making his way to his desk.

"Being out in the heat-affected you did it?" asks Catherine with concern in her voice.

Grissom doesn't respond. He takes off his glasses but just misses placing them on the edge of the desk. His head starts throbbing as Catherine continues talking.

"I knew it!" Catherine exclaims. Grissom feels like his head is pulsating on one side. "The heat, the migraines," she adds. "The combination of the two can't have been good for you; you should have the doc take a look at you," Catherine suggests.

"Catherine..." Grissom says as the room begins to spin. He collapses to the floor.

"GIL!" Catherine shouts, rushing over to him. Her supervisor lay passed out.


Grissom's team sat in the waiting room of the hospital. They were all hoping for an update on the supervisor's current condition. Nick, Warrick, Greg, and Sara were all seated in chairs, but Catherine was pacing back and forth.

"You've been doing that for the past two hours. Would you please stop!" said Sara.

"Sorry, I'm nervous," replies Catherine.

Nick grabs Catherine's hand when she passes by him. He flashes her a small smile. "We all are."

Catherine lets go of Nick's hand when she spots the doctor. He flips through his paperwork before speaking. "I'm doctor Lyle Wexler, a neurologist specialist. Your... supervisor is going to be fine. His condition is stable. He's resting.

"What happened?" inquired Sara.

"From the tests that we ran, it appears your boss suffered from a Chronic Migraine Attack," explained doctor Wexler. "In general, migraines can follow an aura of sensory disturbances followed by a severe headache that often appears on one side of the head. It can cause severe throbbing pain or pulsing sensation. The pain can be so excruciating that it interferes with daily activities, which is what appears to have happened to Mr. Grissom. Nausea, vomiting, and extreme sensitivity to light and sound often accompany Chronic Migraine Attacks. They can last for hours to days, typically 72-hours. Though it is rare, some people do suffer from hallucinations."

"What brought it on?" asks Nick.

"Hard to say," replies doctor Wexler. "The cause of migraines is not yet known. It could be associated with a number of things. If your boss has been under a great deal of pressure lately, it could be stress-related. Tiredness and insufficient sleep, shoulder or neck tension, poor posture, and physical overexertion have all been connected to migraines. Dehydration has also been named as a potential trigger. Flickering screens, strong smells, second-hand smoke, and loud noises can set off a migraine. Stuffy rooms, temperature changes, and bright lights are also attributed."

Catherine processes the doctor's explanation. It all made sense to her now. Grissom was experiencing most if not all of those things. The signs and symptoms were all there. He had been under a great deal of stress lately, working longer and later hours than usual, resulting in overexertion. It caused Grissom to become rundown, and the more that Catherine thought about it, he did appear tired from insufficient sleep.

"Why did I notice it before?" she asks, thinking out loud.

"Catherine," says Nick. "Don't beat yourself up over this."

"Can we see him?" asks Catherine.

"Yes," replies doctor Wexler. "But only one of you. We don't want to overwhelm him."

"How do we decide who..." says Greg, but the choice is obvious as Sara steps forward.

"Follow me," says doctor Wexler. He leads her through the double doors and out of the waiting room. The doctor presses the button to call the elevator.


As he regains consciousness Grissom's eyes begin to focus, looking at her. Oh, no, he thinks. There she is, Sara, leaning on the windowsill, looking angelic from the sunlight shining through. She turns to look at him. Grissom's first instinct is to panic, afraid that he's still hallucinating, and he debates calling out for help or a nurse as she approaches.

"You're awake," Sara says, grinning. She reaches for his hand, their fingers interlock. "I'm glad that you're all right."

"I am," replies Grissom. "But you're not what's wrong?"

A moment of silence passes between them before Sara decides to speak again. "How hard is it to tell someone else how you really feel?"

Grissom sighs, letting go of Sara's hand.

"I'm asking because apparently, it's very hard for you."

Grissom feels tired and frustrated. He decides to get to the bottom of this once and for all, flat-out asking Sara. "You're not really, are you?"

Sara smiles at him before replying. "I am in a sense. I'm the version of her you wish you could be honest with."

Grissom feels hurt by what she implied. "I'm honest with her; I've never lied."

Sara looks away from him knowingly. "I wouldn't still be here if that were the case. You know, it's just as difficult for you as it is me ⏤ her. She heard you both times. Once through the two-way glass and again through the door to your office."

Grissom lays there speechless but listens intently at what his hallucination of Sara has to say. "What do I do?"

"Be honest with her and yourself. Tell her."

Grissom's hallucination of Sara disappears before his eyes in the ray of sunlight through the window. Doctor Wexler shows Sara to Grissom's room. A nurse finishes checking his vitals.

The nurse spots Sara standing in the doorway, encouraging her to enter. "It's all right. You can come in if you'd like." The nurse smiles at her on her way out, leaving Sara and Grissom alone.

Overcome with emotion, Sara begins to cry. She felt a mixture of emotions, including sadness, anger, and hurt all at the same time. She's sad to see Grissom in his current condition, angry with him for not telling her, at herself for not noticing sooner, and hurt from the emotional conflict within.

Grissom watches as Sara musters the courage to approach his bedside. One thing he's learned from hallucinating Sara is that actions speak louder than words. If that's the case, he didn't want to bother trying to tell the real Sara how he felt a third time. Grissom chooses to show her how he feels. As Sara leans down, he cal tell her intention is to kiss him on the forehead. Instead, Grissom captures his lips with hers. Overall, Sara is shocked by his sudden display of affection, but she doesn't break the kiss. They pull away from each other, and Sara feels Grissom wipe away a tear she shed with his thumb.

Grissom begins to speak. "Listen, I..." He wants to tell her that he loves her, but there's no need for him to explain himself. The look conveyed in his eyes says it all to Sara.

"I know," she replies.


Accompanied by officer Sanchez Nick heads back out to Goodsprings Valley. He wants to compare Larry's shoes to the shoe impression left on Miles's cousin's screen door.

"Thanks for taking me back out here," says Nick.

"No problem," replies Sanchez.

Nick was in such a rush to leave the property from the foul smell that he forgot to lift the impression the last time he was out there. They near the end of the block, pull into the drive and immediately see something is amiss. Before exiting the vehicle, Nick points out to Sanchez through the windshield that the screen door is missing, no longer propped up against the handrail.

"I know I'm not crazy," comments Nick getting out of the police cruiser. "There was a screen door propped up against this railing."

"Yeah, I know, so where did it go?" asks Sanchez.

"Beats me," replies Nick.

They look around the yard and observe the carport. Officer Sanchez's attention is directed to the backyard. He spots a suspicious character through the slits in the wooden fence. He decides to pursue them, drawing his weapon from his holster and advises Nick to stay near the car while he investigates.

Sanchez unlatches the gate, cautiously sweeping the backyard and loudly announcing his presence on the scene. "LVPD, I'm Officer Sanchez. Come out where ever you are. I don't want any trouble. I just want to talk."

As he approaches the end of the outside of the house, Sanchez is rendered helpless before he can react. In one swift swing, the assailant attempts to knock him out with a shovel. The officer cries out in pain, alerting the CSI, who runs to his aide. Nick spots Sanchez on the ground and rushes over to help.

"Are you all right?" asks Nick, shocked to find Sanchez with a bloodied nose.

"AH! I ⏤ I think he broke my nose!" replies the officer.

Nick pulls out a rag from his back pocket to give to Sanchez in hopes it will stop the bleeding. "Where'd he go?"

Sanchez tries to speak. But the rag muffles his explanation, and Nick can't understand him. The cop points in the direction of the shed. Nick races over, noting the door is wide open, but no one's inside.

"Unless this guy is Houdini, I don't see how he escaped," says Nick returning to the officer.

Sanchez sniffles a couple of times. He pulls the rage away from his face to speak. "Not the shed. The fence. He went over."

Nick jumps the fence realizing the assailant didn't make it very far. He sees them being attacked by the neighbor's dog.

"AH! Get this thing off of me! It's gonna tear off my leg," says Miles.

"Miles Gardner, why am I not surprised?" says Nick. He stands there watching as the large dog chews up Miles's pant leg. "Nonsense, he's just playing." Nick whistles for the dog, who obediently stops and comes right to him. "Good boy, who's a good boy?"

Sanchez joins them, whipping out and slapping on a pair of handcuffs while reading Miles his Miranda Rights. Nick lovingly pets the dog as it licks his face. "Good, bad dog." Nick learned from the neighbors that the screen door was put out with the trash. Luckily the local sanitation department hadn't collected it yet, and he is able to compare the shoe impressions.


Larry can't bring himself to use the bathroom while in his temporary holding cell at the precinct.

"You've got to be kidding me."

The toilet is overflowing with un-flushed toilet paper, urine, and feces. The smell is enough to make anyone gag. Larry tries to persuade one of the officers to allow him to use the other facilities, but they ignore him.

"Typical. Why did I think you would treat me any different being behind bars?"

In attempts at picturing life in prison, Larry wraps his fingers around the cold metal of his cell bars. He figures he may as well get used to the feeling. He rests his head on the bars looking down at the ground and notices a pair of feet wearing women's shoes. Larry drags his eyes up, meeting the gaze of the person they belong to. It's Catherine.

"I know that I'm probably one of the last people you want to talk to," she begins.

Larry steps away from the bars. "If you know that, then why are you here?" he asks, seating himself on the bed. "I already told you what I know."

Catherine is reminded that Larry isn't wearing any shoes once she spots his stocking feet.

"What more could you people want from me?" asks Larry.

"How about your fingerprints?" she replies.

"Oh no," he says firmly. "I'm probably breaking the rules enough as it is by talking to you without my lawyer present."

"Mister Waters, I assure you you're doing no such thing."

"Wait a second... aren't you the one who knocked my son unconscious with a fire extinguisher?"

Catherine fears if she answers honestly, Larry could refuse to speak with her any further. After a moment of contemplation, she decides to tell him the truth.

"Yes, but..."

"How is he?"

Larry's response throws Catherine off guard. He searches her face for a reaction but can't read her.

"Do you have any kids?"

Catherine doesn't answer, but Larry can tell from the look on her face that she does.

"From one parent to another. Please, I want to know if he's okay."

Catherine sees the look of dread in Larry's eyes.

"In all honesty, I can't tell you how he is even if I wanted to because your son's being held in Goodsprings Valley police custody. I want to help you. If you cooperate..."

Larry gets up from the edge of the bed. He walks over to Catherine, fury rising in his voice.

"You asked for my statement; I gave it to you. You wanted the security tapes from my store you took them. You wanted my shoes; I handed them over. I've been cooperating!"

"I think I can prove your innocence, but only if you let me take your prints for comparison," explains Catherine.

Larry feels tired and defeated. He figures his situation can't get any worse than what it already is. He gives his consent to allow Catherine to take his prints. As she collects her kit to leave, Larry calls out to her.

"Hey!" She turns to look at him. "Thank you."

Catherine smiles at Larry before heading back to the lab with her newfound evidence. The officers who ignored Larry bring in a rather obnoxious and loud perpetrator. Larry listens and recognizes the perps voice as they come closer. It's Miles Gardner. He fights the officers every step of the way as they remove his cuffs. To Larry's dismay, they place Miles in the temporary holding cell next to his.

"Hey! Hey! C'mon, now!" says Miles. The officers walk away. Miles doesn't like being ignored. "Is ⏤ is this about me breaking that guy's nose? I didn't mean it. I didn't mean anything by it. IT WAS SELF DEFENSE!" he yells while climbing the bars.

Larry covers his ears with both hands to block out Miles's yelling. To distract himself, Larry looks around the interior of his cell. The floor was concrete while the walls were covered with obscenities, some carved by foreign objects and one written in... blood from the previous cell occupants. Larry wondered if all the cells look the same or not. He hears Miles speaking, assuming it's out loud to himself. It isn't until Miles bangs on their shared wall that Larry realizes he's trying to get his attention.

"Hey! Who's in there?" Miles cackles.

Luckily, Larry doesn't have to answer. An officer comes to keep Miles in check. He bangs on the bars of Miles' cell with his nightstick.

"Pipe down in there! I won't let you out if you don't cooperate."

Miles backs away from the bars. He puts his hands up defensively as if to surrender. "I'll be good."

Larry thinks that morning can't come fast enough.