Continued from Chapter Two

Headers, disclaimers in Chapter One

Previous chapters can be found at

http://www.grissomandsara.com/fanfic/dustcoverpages/magic.htm Thanks
to Andi for the great design!

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"Gil Grissom!"

Sara watched as a tall, stocky man with graying blond hair exited the
driver's side door of a white courtesy van parked outside the front
of the resort. He bounded over and immediately shook Grissom's hand
and clapped him on the shoulder. "It's been a long time, man."

"Yeah, what's it been? Six years?" Grissom seemed pleased to see his
old friend, who Sara could only assume was Steve Pewter. As if he had
read her thoughts he turned to introduce her.

"No, let me guess. Sara Sidle." He grasped her hand. "I've heard a
lot about you."

She arched an eyebrow at Grissom and spoke. "You must be Steve
Pewter. I'm pleased to meet you; Grissom speaks very highly of your
work."

Steve laughed, the sound reverberating in the portico. "I find that
hard to believe." He gestured to the van. "Why don't we get in? I can
fill you in on the way."

The followed him to the unmarked vehicle and waited as pulled back
the sliding doors. Sara slid quickly into the back seat, choosing to
let Grissom take the front with his old colleague. They sat in
silence while Steve drove through the large parking lot and onto the
road in front of the hotel. To their left she could see the lighted
red spires of what she recognized from the brochures as the Grand
Floridian. To the north the top of Cinderella Castle was almost
visible; it was cast in an almost eerie blue glow.

"This is World Parkway." Steve began. "It runs the entire length of
Disney property. We're on the very north end of it right now. Walt
Disney wanted to place the Magic Kingdom here so the guests would
have to see the rest of his "world" in order to get to what is
probably still the centerpiece of the resort." They passed some
elaborate topiary as they neared a large white dome. "This is Space
Mountain on your left. We'll be going in there in a bit. It's where
the vic was found."

"I thought he was on the people mover." Grissom interjected.

"Tomorrowland Transit Authority." He corrected. "And yes. During its
route it moves through Space Mountain. The lack of light and the loud
noise from the ride kept anyone from being alerted right away. The
cast member missed it on the video feed. The trains are programmed to
stop if they run into any interference, so the next one to pass
through braked when it hit the body. Fortunately it was empty at the
time."

They drove around a bend in the road and the change was jarring. The
scenery had transitioned from water, intricate landscaping, and
resorts to a series of large, beige warehouses on dusty lots. They
slowed to pass through a security booth. Steve flashed an ID to the
guard and they continued down a smaller, dirt road. They pulled to a
stop in front of a wide, green gate illuminated by flood lamps. A
small sign on both sides read "Gates must remain closed during park
hours. All Cast must be in costume beyond this point."

Steve pulled the van over to the side and turned off the ignition.
They exited and he led them to a rotating steel gate. He handed both
Grissom and Sara blue cards with a magnetic strip on the
back. "These are temporary IDs. They'll get you access to backstage,
the parks, all cast areas, and use of the offstage transportation.
It's the same identification as the salary cast here has. At no point
should you identify yourselves as criminalists, nor should anyone ask
you to do so. Keep those cards around your necks at all times and no
one will question your presence." Grissom and Sara watched as he
swiped his ID through a scanner to the right of the gate. A loud buzz
resonated in the night and he pushed through; they repeated his
actions and were soon inside.

"Well, this is different." Sara commented, blinking from the bright
light that greeted them inside the park.

"Just like home, huh?" Steve responded, his voice echoing off the
steel and concrete that surrounded them.

"Maybe if you were Tron." Grissom said, dryly.

Sara looked confused. "Tron?"

"You don't..." Grissom started, and then changed his mind. "You were
ten."

Sara smiled as they continued walking. She surveyed the area as if it
were any other scene. Unlike most scenes, however, this one was
bathed in a glow of purple and green light; it bounced off the
metallic surfaces that framed the perimeter of what she now knew as
Tomorrowland.

"Why is everything so bright if the park is closed?" She asked. It
was disconcerting.

"It provides light for the custodial and grounds cast. They work all
night. That and it takes less power just to leave most of the
attractions' lighting on rather than powering them up in the morning."

"I can't imagine the power bill." Grissom remarked.

Steve waved his hand in dismissal. "If they had to pay it. Disney
makes its own power. They're completely self-sufficient in that
respect."

They walked about twenty yards across the slate gray pavement; the
only sound came from some low ambient techno music emanating from
somewhere in the vicinity. They approached the base of an attraction;
a sign identified it as the Tomorrowland Transit Authority. They had
reached their destination. Grissom heard Sara laugh softly behind
him. He turned to her. "What?"

She gestured to the barrier to the inclined walkway. A bright graphic
of Mickey Mouse holding a paintbrush accompanied the words: "We are
refurbishing for future magic!" Grissom shook his head as she spoke
again. "It doesn't have the charm of your typical crime scene tape,
but I suppose it works."

Steve stepped over the barrier onto the rubber footing. "Yeah, kinda
morbid, isn't it? Once there was an incident in your hotel. Woman
left her fiancé a Dear John letter on his pillow. He went into the
hall, threw himself over the ledge, and landed on top of the gift
shop. Security threw one of these partitions up around the body,
where it stayed for fifteen hours until they could finally remove it
unnoticed."

"Does that happen a lot?" Grissom asked, intrigued.

"Disney builds their reputation on 'preserving the magical guest
experience.' Last thing they want is to have their cred damaged
because some kid on the monorail sees some guy splatter himself on
top of Kingdom Jewelers, you know?"

Grissom nodded and swung himself over the barrier, offering a hand to
Sara behind him. Both on the platform now, they climbed up to the
loading dock of the ride. Several blue open-air trains sat on the
tracks; doing a quick calculation Grissom saw that they could
probably carry approximately fifty passengers. A bank of monitors and
a computer control panel sat in plain view from their vantage point
on the walkway. "The ride is operated right here? Where anyone can
have access to it?"

Steve shrugged. "A trained monkey could operate this system. Even if
someone had unauthorized access to it they couldn't do anything but
stop the trains. They run on a continuous loop; this walkway we're on
is a moving sidewalk." He jumped across an empty section of
track. "The scene is over near Space Mountain. It's quickest if we
just cut through."

Grissom and Sara followed, strips of lighting along the tracks
illuminating their path. They could barely make out the shadowy
figure of the sheriff in front of them now. His voice bounced off the
walls as he spoke. "Sara, have you ever been to Walt Disney World
before?"

"No, Disneyland, though." She brushed her fingers along the wall in
order to balance herself as they walked along a narrow portion of the
beam.

"Disneyland's cool, but there's really no comparison. Maybe we can
take a day while you're here and I'll show you around." Sara couldn't
tell from his tone whether "you" referred to both her and Grissom or
just her. She just answered with a neutral "Maybe."

The three investigators came to a stop as Steve flipped on a set of
emergency lights. "This is where the vic was found." He pointed to a
section of the track marked by orange traffic cones. It wasn't hard
to tell where the body had rested; the metal rail that powered the
cars was painted crimson-brown with dried blood. Several blue cars
sat derailed to their left.

"Was that where the train stopped after the vic was hit?" Sara asked.
The bloodstain was nearly twenty feet to the right of the tram.

"Unfortunately not. A cast member attempted a rescue and rolled them
backward." Steve responded with a 'what can you do' gesture.

"How many people have had access to this area?" Grissom spoke as he
bent down to examine the metal wheel on the front car, using a gloved
finger to trace the outline of the red spatter pattern.

"Just my team, some officers, and the attractions manager. We've
posted some security personnel at all the entrances to this ride,
both guest and cast. They even closed Space Mountain, which is
another reason they want this cleaned up fast."

"We're not rushing the process, Steve." Grissom said tersely.

Steve lifted a hand in response. "You're preaching to the choir, Gil.
Take as much time as you need. Disney will ride your ass, but they're
not above the law. They know that. Just keep this on the down-low and
everyone will be happy."

Sara was on the tracks now, having taken one of the kits from where
it had rested against the wall. She had taken out one of the tools
and was scraping at the dried blood, depositing what she collected in
the plastic pouch in her other palm. Grissom watched Steve stare at
her intently, his friend's eyes moving up and down her bent
form. "What do you have there, Sara?" Grissom asked, wincing at his
weak attempt at a diversion technique.

She turned her head toward him. "Blood, Grissom. You typically find
it at crime scenes that involve...bleeding." He could almost swear
she winked at him, but chalked it up to the dim light.

"You trained her well. No wonder you called her your best student."

Grissom saw Sara's smile turn into a full grin. Slightly embarrassed,
he stepped down next to her. He took the camera from the black bag at
her side. Turning it in his hands he shouted back to Steve. "You guys
use these old things? They're archaic."

"Not everyone can have your budget."

Sara grabbed the camera from Grissom. "Let me do that; you collect
the samples."

They worked in silence for almost four hours, first collecting the
blood and fiber evidence from the steel, and then mapping out what
had taken place. The spatter was consistent with a low speed impact.
The tram had hit the victim, but it was not clear why or how it
occurred. The few fibers that had been found were consistent with the
clothing that he'd been found in. The only significant find of the
evening had come when Grissom had extracted a long black thread just
inches from where the blood was at its most dense. There was no way
to tell whether it had to do with their case or had come from one of
the nearly five thousand passengers the attraction transported during
an average late summer day.

"I think we've done all we can for tonight. Tomorrow we'll set up a
meeting with the coroner in Osceola County and see if we can find any
other source of trauma." Grissom said, breaking the quiet. He turned
to Steve. "Can we get use of some dummies? Tomorrow I want to do a
reenactment. Something just doesn't seem to add up here. Not to
mention the bugs; I think that's where the focus should be." He wiped
his forehead; the Florida humidity wasn't something he was accustomed
to.

"Sure thing. I'll get you anything you need." Steve said affably.

Grissom nodded and stepped back up onto the platform. He looked down
at Sara who was starting to show her own fatigue. He glanced at his
watch; it was nearing five AM. He reached an arm down to her; she
grabbed his hand gratefully and jumped up next to him. He motioned
her ahead of him down the path and stepped in front of Steve. "
Sorry." Grissom offered as the other man almost stumbled into
him. "It's a little hard to see in here."

"Yeah."

Twenty minutes later they had returned to the hotel. After setting up
arrangements with Steve for the tests they would do the next day,
they left the van and walked through the lobby to the elevator,
enjoying the cool air. They rode up in companionable silence. The
doors slid open and they made their way to the room. Sara searched
her front pockets. "Do you have the key?"

Grissom reached in his back pocket and retrieved the card. Sliding it
into the lock the door opened with a soft snick. Once inside he went
to check messages on the phone while Sara threw herself face down on
the couch.

"No messages." Grissom returned the receiver to its cradle. "I guess
that means we can go to bed."

"I thought you'd never ask" came her muffled reply. She made no
effort to move.

He decided to ignore that. "Get up, Sara. We have a busy day
tomorrow. Meeting with the coroner, I want to review the initial
reports, we have to run the reenact..."

She groaned and slowly got to her feet with a look that he could only
describe as an annoyed blink. He remembered she had taken sleeping
pills for the flight; it was surprising she was still operating at
all. His voice was softer as he continued. "You go to bed. I'll see
you in the morning and we can set up our schedule from there."

"It better involve mouse ears."

"What?" Grissom pretended not to catch that.

"You heard me." She closed the door behind her; he turned and headed
to his own room. If the crime scene had been any indication this case
was only going to get stranger.


TBC