Chapter 15

The apartment complex loomed over head, blocking the sun from hitting his eyes as Nick exited his department issued SUV. The drive hadn't been a long one, but Nick still stretched his back as he closed the door behind him. He had called Detective Vartann on his way, Brass still being treated at Desert Palms, and the detective had said he would meet Nick there, once he had gotten a warrant to search Lucy Jones' apartment.

Russell was meeting with another detective at Smith's Henderson house.

Not sure what, if anything, he would find, Nick took out his field kit from the boot. Always best to be prepared. It was one of the first things Grissom had taught him, when Nick had started out at the lab. "Even if you're only going to question a witness, always have you kit stocked and ready to go," the supervisor had told him. "You never know when, or where, you might find something."

Ever since that day, whenever he went out to the field, Nick always had his kit case ready. Hit boot also filled with the various field equipment the lab had purchased over the years. Laptop, fingerprint scanner, other portable analysis machines.

Nick took his sunglasses off, placing them in a pocket on his vest. Mond wondering to his ex-boss. He was truly glad to see Grissom again, he had missed him. Missed his encouragement, his eccentricities, his teaching. Russell was a great supervisor, and a brilliant CSI. But he wasn't Grissom. He wasn't the man who made Nick the criminalist he was today. He wasn't the man who first believed in him, who pushed him.

He wasn't the one who held his hand to that glass coffin.

Yes, Russell was great, and he had a lot of respect for the man. But Nick loved Grissom. Like a friend, or a father. Or maybe the quirky uncle. Which made this all the more difficult.

Sara was his friend, one of his best. She and Greg were like the siblings he had left behind in Texas. And Nick could not get the look on her face out of his mind, as she said those words.

The truth is, he's not my husband anymore.

He had no idea. Had no clue as to what was going on. And that one sentence told him all he needed to know. The reason she changed her mind. The reason she threw herself back into her work. The reason why she went up to that hotel room. The reason why she had stopped smiling. Why she withdrawn into a cocoon, of what Nick then realised was grief.

He had berated himself, kicked himself for not noticing earlier. Too, selfishly, happy that she was staying. She had been going through all that alone.

Yes, he loved Grissom. But he was angry. Angry with the older man. So angry that, if he had been able too, he would have hopped onto the next flight to give the entomologist a piece of his mind.

He didn't know what had happened, didn't want to know. It was their business and, unless Sara wanted to confide in him, he wasn't going to pry.

But seeing Grissom in that hospital room. Watching the emotions pass across his face as the man looked at Sara, Nick wasn't sure who he was angrier with: Grissom for leaving, or himself for not pushing. He could see, as time went on, that Sara was struggling. Could see that there was something wrong. But he did nothing.

Greg had tried. So had Russel. But Nick… He should had done more. Should have said something to one, or both of them.

It was clear. So damned obvious, that his two friends still loved one another. They both still wore their rings. They both still gravitated towards the other, like magnets sliding across the floor. Still stood so close, only millimetres separated them. Just minutes after returning to the lab, both Grissom and Sara had fallen back into their old ways of working. No personal space. Reading each other's minds in a way none of the team had ever been able to do.

Nick was pulled from his thoughts as Vartann drew level with him, tires crunching along the tarmac.

"I've got the warrant," the detective said, as he exited his vehicle.

"Great," Nick replied. "I don't know if we'll find anything, but it's worth a look." The two men walked up to the apartment building. "Any news on Brass?" Nick asked.

"He's alright, but they want to keep him in for observation. Should be out tomorrow, or the day after, all going well," Vartann replied.

The CSI nodded, relieved. As they approached the building, Nick was about to press the buzzer when Vartann tapped the window with his knuckle. There was a young man standing by the post boxes. Vartann held up his badge and gestured to the door. With a slight start, the man walked towards them. Hesitantly opening the door. His eyes flicked between the cop and the CSI, as if he was unsure whether or not he should be allowing them access.

"I'm Detective Vartann, and this is Nick Stokes form the Crime Lab. We're here to speak with one of your neighbours."

The young man's eyes widened in surprise, curiosity practically pouring out of him as he stepped back to allow them through.

"Is someone in trouble," he asked, following after them.

"We hope not, sir," Nick replied, keeping his voice natural.

"Do you know this woman?" Vartann asked, holing up a picture of Lucy.

"Yeah," the man replied, squinting a little as he looked. "Lives up on four, I think. Don't know her name though. She seems friendly enough, when I pass her in the hall."

"Thank you." Vartann looked back to Nick, raising an eyebrow, and they made their way to the elevator. They stood in silence as they waited for the doors to open. As soon as they were alone, enclosed in the small lift, Vartann cleared his throat.

"So, um," he said, and Nick could see his shifting, uncomfortably on his feet. "How's Catherine?"

"She's alright, it's Catherine," Nick replied. "Pretty pissed someone blew up her casino." He smiled over at the detective, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Is she… do you know if she's seeing anyone?" His voice was light, airy.

"I dunno, man," he said. "It's been pretty nonstop. We haven't really had time to catch up."

"Right, of course." Vartann nodded his head, not looking at the CSI beside him.

Thankfully, before either of them could say any more, the doors opened. When they arrived at Lucy Jones' apartment, there was the faint sound of music coming from within and Vartann lifted his hand to knock.

The door was opened by a young woman. Short, slightly plump. Her brown hair was pulled back into a scruffy ponytail and her face was flushed. She was wearing grey jogging bottoms and a pink vest top. Pretty, in an understated way. Rounded face, grey eyes, and full lips.

"Can I help you?" She asked, putting a towel to her sweating face. Nick glanced behind and saw a treadmill set up under the window in the living room.

"I'm Detective Vartann and this is Nick Stokes from the Crime Lab. We're looking for Lucy Jones."

"She's not in right now."

"And who are you?"

"Stacey Lewis, I'm her roommate," Stacey replied, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"May we come in?" Nick asked.

"Look, whatever Lucy's gotten herself into, I had nothing to do with it," the woman said, a little defensively.

"I'm sure you didn't," Nick reassured her with a smile. "We just want to take a look around, maybe ask you a few questions, if that's alright?" Stacey hesitated; he could see the reluctance on her face.

"We have a warrant," Vartann said, holding up paper for her to see. Stacey sighed and opened the door wider to let them in. Nick gave her another smile in thanks, before taking in his surroundings. It was a small, open plan room. The kitchen was on his left, with a breakfast bar serving as the divider between it and the living room. The treadmill was opposite, under the window, facing the TV which was tuned to a music channel. A two-seater sofa was pushed up against the right wall and a single seat was behind the breakfast bench. On his right, were two doors he guessed lead to the girl's bedrooms.

"Which one is Lucy's room?" Nick asked and Stacey gestured to the door closest the sofa. Nick instantly walked in. It was small, not much room for furniture. A double bed sat against the far wall, a white bedside table was placed between it and the window. There was a small wardrobe and chest of draws alongside the right wall and a desk opposite the bed.

None of the furniture matched. An assortment of furnishings, most likely purchased from a charity shop, or market. It wasn't an unpleasant arrangement, but it did take a little getting used too. The colourings clashed; the bright orange of the bed spread conflicting with the sky-blue walls.

Nick started at the desk while Vartann questioned the roommate.

"When was the last time you saw Lucy?" He asked her.

"A few days ago."

"Is that common?" Vartann asked.

"I'm her roommate, not her mother. I figured she was staying at her boyfriends," Stacey replied. Nick picked up a diary that was laying on the desk and flicked through it. There wasn't much in it, just dates and times for her shifts at work, but Nick did notice a recurring appointment every Wednesday.

Appt 1pm, Dr Q.

"What's her boyfriend's name?" Vartann asked.

"Lucas Greene."

"Miss Lewis," Nick called as he walked back into the living room. "Was Lucy in therapy?"

Stacy looked between them. "Yes," she replied, a little hesitant. "She's been going for about two years now."

"What's her doctor's name?"

"Quinn, or something like that. Look, what's going on? Is Lucy alright?" Stacy asked, now starting to look a little worried

"And she's been seeing them for two years?" Nick asked, ignoring the question.

"Yes, no. She was seeing someone else first. Keller, or Kessler. Lu said she needed to find someone new a few months back."

"What was she in therapy for?" Vartann asked.

"I'm not saying anything else till you tell me what's going on," Stacy replied, crossing her arms. Her voice wavering a little.

"We can't discuss an ongoing investigation," Vartann replied, not unkindly.

"Is Lucy alright?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Nick replied, gently. "Do you know what she was in therapy for?"

"Lucy was a prude. Something happened to her, and she couldn't let anyone touch her. It was ruining every relationship she had, so she started seeing a shrink. It was helping too; she and Lucas have been together almost a year now."

"So, it was some kind of sex therapy?" Vartann asked.

"I don't know, I didn't really ask her about it."

"What happened when she changed her therapist?" Nick asked.

"Nothing, at first," Stacey replied, dropping her arms.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it all seemed to be going well, but the last couple of months…" she hesitated.

"Yes?"

"She's been acting strange, going out at all hours. And weird phone calls."

"Weird how?" Vartann asked, making a note on his notepad.

"She'd get a call, then go all strange. Like she wasn't in the room. I'd say something, but she'd completely ignore me and walk out the room. Lucas said that he's seen it too. We tried talking to her about it, but it's like she doesn't even remember it happening."

"And, when did this start?"

"A few months ago."

"Ok," Vartann said, closing the pad and putting it back in his pocket. "Thank you for your time. If you hear from Lucy, would you give me a call?" He handed her his card, and she nodded her head. Nick gathered a few bits and pieces from the apartment, including DNA exemplars from the bathroom, and the two men took their leave.

"What do you think?" Vartann asked when they got back to the car.

"I wanna talk to this new shrink. It seems Lucy's behaviour started to change once she stopped seeing Lady Heather."

"I'll get a warrant for her phone records and financials, see if we can find out who this doctor is," Vartann said and walked to his car. As the detective drove away, Nick pulled out his phone and called Russell.

"Russell? Hey, it's Nick. So, I've just spoken to Lucy Jones' roommate. Seems like there was a drastic change in behaviour once she started seeing a new shrink. Roommate said the name was Quinn."

"Yeah," Russell replied. "I've had a similar story here. Spoke to Smith's husband. He started seeing a Dr Quinn after Lady Heather shut her practice. A few months ago, he started getting strange phone calls, started going out and coming back looking like he had been in multiple fights. The husband said Smith was acting strange, like he wasn't really there after the calls."

"Yeah, Lucy's roommate said the same thing about her. Do you reckon they were seeing the same shrink."

"Possibly, what did the roommate say the name was?"

"Quinn, but she couldn't be sure. Vartann's going to run the financials to see if we can get anything from that."

"Good. They both said the behaviour changed a few months ago?" Russell asked, his voice rising slightly at the end of the sentence and Nick knew he was getting to something specific.

"What are you thinking?"

"That would be around the same time we started getting that crime wave, wouldn't it?"

"You think it's connected?" Nick asked. "I don't know if two people would be able to cause that much chaos."

"Well," Russell said, and Nick could picture the older man taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "We know of at least three people who might be involved. Adrian Kelly was also one the patients from the missing tapes. And, if whoever is behind the bombing is also behind the crime wave, they could have gotten more people involved."

"We need to speak to the shrink," Nick said as he put his kit in the boot of his car.

"Yeah, and Kelly's wife. Go back to the lab, see if Henry's gotten anything from the blood in Lady Heathers house, then check in with Archie. I'm heading to the morgue; Doc Robbins wants to see me and Catherine."

"Sure thing." Nick hung up and got back into his car. His mind running through everything Stacy and Russell had just told him.