Disclaimer: The characters in CSI belong to.someone rich. Not me.
Chasing Rabbits
Chapter Four
Aside from the obvious carpet dents one would expect to find when a piece of furniture has remained in the same position for any length of time, Brass had immediately spotted an oversized set of body restraints lying in the space where the sofa had once been.
Switching on the light to get a better look, Sara, Gil and Brass crowded around the torture instruments and stared at them blankly. "What do you think," Jim asked eventually, "his or hers?"
"I guess there's only one way to find out," Gil replied, reaching for his cell. Hitting the speed dial button he held the phone to his ear for a few seconds, waiting for an answer. "Greg?" he said suddenly, "Can you get over to the Grand and bring a couple of guys to help you?" There was a pause, then, "That's fine. Go to the desk and get the keys to a Tahoe. Make sure you've got enough space in the back for some large evidence we need transported." There was another, shorter pause, and then Gil rung off.
Turning to his two colleagues, Gil glanced at their new find once again before giving out the new orders. "Sara can you finish off processing here?" he asked and was rewarded with a slight nod. "Brass, let's go see the manager again. No way they could get something this size past the front desk without someone noticing."
"My thoughts exactly," Brass replied. "I'll go ask reception to beep him." Jim left the room once more and Gil began to meticulously collect the contents of his kit together and place them carefully back in their allotted places. Sara watched him for a moment, remaining silent and thoughtful right up until the moment she realized he was going to leave without saying a word about what had happened.
"Griss..." Sara murmured, and Gil stopped, his hand tightening reflexively on the door handle. Turning to look at her, he closed his eyes for a moment, trying desperately to gather his thoughts.
"Sara, I..." he began, then sighed impatiently at his lack of articulation. "I don't think, I mean, it's not...my timing..." Sara smiled sympathetically. He really was trying and it was obviously painful for him to express himself like this.
"How about we talk later?" she asked and Gil nodded both in agreement and gratitude. But Sara wasn't done. She knew this man of old and she knew how good he was at avoidance. "Promise?" she said gravely and once again he nodded in response. Only this time, it was entirely serious. "I promise," he replied, rewarding her with one of his rare smiles, then he left to find Brass, leaving Sara to stare questioningly at a closed door.
~*~ The sudden sting of the older woman's palm making contact with her cheek had the blonde ceasing her hysterical screams and instead standing frozen in front of the dead man like a mannequin in a shop window.
Wordlessly, the older woman walked into the bathroom and grabbed the brunette by the shoulders, hauling her to her feet and marching her back into the motel bedroom to stand limply beside her colleague. Quickly and efficiently she dragged a black backpack out from under the bed and began to fill it with the dead mans sadomasochistic paraphernalia. Finally, she bent down and unlocked the manacles around the man's wrists, allowing his naked, lifeless body to fall to the ground with a dull thud. She then placed the manacles and keys in the bag.
"Help me dress him," she ordered the two girls and began to gather his strewn clothing together. Still in shock, and not entirely sure of their own actions, the prostitutes began the robotic process of redressing the dead man, working quickly and silently until their arduous task was done.
Placing the man gently, almost reverently back on the floor the older woman regarded the two girls coldly for a moment. "You killed him," she said simply and the girls stared at each other in absolute horror. Still the woman continued. "You were the one with your hands around his throat," she pointed at the blonde. "It may have been what he wanted, but nevertheless, you killed him."
Panic overwhelmed the young woman and she stared at the other girl, her eyes burning with fear. "If they find out I'll tell them you were there too!" she blurted out, causing the petite brunette to blanche. "That's what I figured," the third woman stated. "But I'm going to help you."
Both girls turned to the older woman and nodded to her gratefully. "What should we do?" the brunette asked quietly.
~*~
"So what you're saying is that some old lady managed to carry a five foot Iron Maiden straight through reception and up in the lift to the Penthouse suite with help only from one person, and no one noticed anything slightly odd?" Brass sat forward slightly in his chair and leaned his elbows on the table. "I'm thinking we may need to see your surveillance cameras."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Mr. Patterson replied stoically as he smoothed the sleeve of his business suite. "And from what you've said, I hardly think it would be an Iron Maiden."
"We could get a warrant," Gil warned, ignoring the manager's obvious facetiousness. But Mr. Patterson just shook his head. "It won't do you any good. One of my security staff accidentally recorded over the day of Ms Winchester's arrival."
Jim glared at the Manager. "Well now, isn't that unfortunate."
"Most," agreed Mr. Patterson amiably. "Now unless there is anything else I can do for you, I have a hotel to run. Good day gentlemen." Without waiting for a response, the Manager rose from his seat and left the room.
Gil glanced around the hotel lobby where the unofficial interview had taken place. "You know," he said quietly so only Brass could hear, "I'm starting to think there's something a little kooky going on here."
"You mean aside from the dead body, the missing person and the torture chamber?" Brass replied humorlessly.
Gil stood up slowly. "I'm going to find out if Greg's arrived," he said and picked up his case.
"I'll see if there's any news on our Mister Cardinal," Brass replied with a nod. "Oh, and by the way," Gil turned to face his friend questioningly. "Did you really just say 'kooky'?"
Grissom smiled. "Blame Sara." He replied and walked towards the elevator. "Oh I do," Jim murmured as he watched his friend step gracelessly into the lift car, "Remind me to thank her some day."
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Thank you all so much for the feedback! I've already written the next chapter, but I like to keep you waiting.
Chasing Rabbits
Chapter Four
Aside from the obvious carpet dents one would expect to find when a piece of furniture has remained in the same position for any length of time, Brass had immediately spotted an oversized set of body restraints lying in the space where the sofa had once been.
Switching on the light to get a better look, Sara, Gil and Brass crowded around the torture instruments and stared at them blankly. "What do you think," Jim asked eventually, "his or hers?"
"I guess there's only one way to find out," Gil replied, reaching for his cell. Hitting the speed dial button he held the phone to his ear for a few seconds, waiting for an answer. "Greg?" he said suddenly, "Can you get over to the Grand and bring a couple of guys to help you?" There was a pause, then, "That's fine. Go to the desk and get the keys to a Tahoe. Make sure you've got enough space in the back for some large evidence we need transported." There was another, shorter pause, and then Gil rung off.
Turning to his two colleagues, Gil glanced at their new find once again before giving out the new orders. "Sara can you finish off processing here?" he asked and was rewarded with a slight nod. "Brass, let's go see the manager again. No way they could get something this size past the front desk without someone noticing."
"My thoughts exactly," Brass replied. "I'll go ask reception to beep him." Jim left the room once more and Gil began to meticulously collect the contents of his kit together and place them carefully back in their allotted places. Sara watched him for a moment, remaining silent and thoughtful right up until the moment she realized he was going to leave without saying a word about what had happened.
"Griss..." Sara murmured, and Gil stopped, his hand tightening reflexively on the door handle. Turning to look at her, he closed his eyes for a moment, trying desperately to gather his thoughts.
"Sara, I..." he began, then sighed impatiently at his lack of articulation. "I don't think, I mean, it's not...my timing..." Sara smiled sympathetically. He really was trying and it was obviously painful for him to express himself like this.
"How about we talk later?" she asked and Gil nodded both in agreement and gratitude. But Sara wasn't done. She knew this man of old and she knew how good he was at avoidance. "Promise?" she said gravely and once again he nodded in response. Only this time, it was entirely serious. "I promise," he replied, rewarding her with one of his rare smiles, then he left to find Brass, leaving Sara to stare questioningly at a closed door.
~*~ The sudden sting of the older woman's palm making contact with her cheek had the blonde ceasing her hysterical screams and instead standing frozen in front of the dead man like a mannequin in a shop window.
Wordlessly, the older woman walked into the bathroom and grabbed the brunette by the shoulders, hauling her to her feet and marching her back into the motel bedroom to stand limply beside her colleague. Quickly and efficiently she dragged a black backpack out from under the bed and began to fill it with the dead mans sadomasochistic paraphernalia. Finally, she bent down and unlocked the manacles around the man's wrists, allowing his naked, lifeless body to fall to the ground with a dull thud. She then placed the manacles and keys in the bag.
"Help me dress him," she ordered the two girls and began to gather his strewn clothing together. Still in shock, and not entirely sure of their own actions, the prostitutes began the robotic process of redressing the dead man, working quickly and silently until their arduous task was done.
Placing the man gently, almost reverently back on the floor the older woman regarded the two girls coldly for a moment. "You killed him," she said simply and the girls stared at each other in absolute horror. Still the woman continued. "You were the one with your hands around his throat," she pointed at the blonde. "It may have been what he wanted, but nevertheless, you killed him."
Panic overwhelmed the young woman and she stared at the other girl, her eyes burning with fear. "If they find out I'll tell them you were there too!" she blurted out, causing the petite brunette to blanche. "That's what I figured," the third woman stated. "But I'm going to help you."
Both girls turned to the older woman and nodded to her gratefully. "What should we do?" the brunette asked quietly.
~*~
"So what you're saying is that some old lady managed to carry a five foot Iron Maiden straight through reception and up in the lift to the Penthouse suite with help only from one person, and no one noticed anything slightly odd?" Brass sat forward slightly in his chair and leaned his elbows on the table. "I'm thinking we may need to see your surveillance cameras."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Mr. Patterson replied stoically as he smoothed the sleeve of his business suite. "And from what you've said, I hardly think it would be an Iron Maiden."
"We could get a warrant," Gil warned, ignoring the manager's obvious facetiousness. But Mr. Patterson just shook his head. "It won't do you any good. One of my security staff accidentally recorded over the day of Ms Winchester's arrival."
Jim glared at the Manager. "Well now, isn't that unfortunate."
"Most," agreed Mr. Patterson amiably. "Now unless there is anything else I can do for you, I have a hotel to run. Good day gentlemen." Without waiting for a response, the Manager rose from his seat and left the room.
Gil glanced around the hotel lobby where the unofficial interview had taken place. "You know," he said quietly so only Brass could hear, "I'm starting to think there's something a little kooky going on here."
"You mean aside from the dead body, the missing person and the torture chamber?" Brass replied humorlessly.
Gil stood up slowly. "I'm going to find out if Greg's arrived," he said and picked up his case.
"I'll see if there's any news on our Mister Cardinal," Brass replied with a nod. "Oh, and by the way," Gil turned to face his friend questioningly. "Did you really just say 'kooky'?"
Grissom smiled. "Blame Sara." He replied and walked towards the elevator. "Oh I do," Jim murmured as he watched his friend step gracelessly into the lift car, "Remind me to thank her some day."
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Thank you all so much for the feedback! I've already written the next chapter, but I like to keep you waiting.