III- LITTLE BOY BLUE

Nick was sitting on Grissom's Tahoe, out in the parking lot. He had been sitting there for about 30 minutes, his back against the windshield, staring at the night sky. He closed his eyes tightly, and heard Warrick's voice repeating in his head: "Someone glued that kids' eyes shut.glued his eyes shut.eyes shut."

He ran his hand roughly over his face, and looked up at the stars. "Poor kid."

"Hey, Nicky." Sara's soft voice came out of nowhere. "Mind if I join you?"

Nick silently slid across the top of the Tahoe, and indicated with a shrug the he had just vacated. He felt the vehicle shift a little as Sara's slight weight pressed down on the bumper as she climbed up, and settled comfortably beside him.

"We have a name now," she offered tentatively. "Timmy. Timmy Watson. Just turned three last week. He was reported missing by his foster mother almost three weeks ago. He was abducted from her home in Michigan. Brass is calling the local police chief there to see what information they can send us on their case - whether they have any leads or not, that kind of thing."

"Any new information from Robbins? Anything found on his pj's, or his elephant and blanket that might help us find who did this to him?"

Sara sighed. "Uhm, yeah. Robbins said that there were indications - internal scarring and such - uhm, he thinks Timmy has been sexually abused. Not recently, but definitely in the past." She rolled unto her side, and looked at Nick with concern, propping her head on her elbow.

"Yeah. That figures." Nick's sad voice spoke volumes. He rubbed his hand across his face again, and twisted his head to look at her. "Don't worry. I'll be alright."

"I know you will be, Nicky. You're strong. But if you want to talk.."

"I know where you to find you," he reached out, and gently brushed her hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. "You're a good friend Sara."

"You are too, Nicky." They smiled at each other in the dark, before Sara sat up and pushed herself off the Tahoe. "We should go back in, Nicky. See what Brass has managed to find out from Michigan. Besides, we're denting Grissom's Tahoe, lying on it like this."

Nick slid to his feet beside her, and turned to look at the hood they had just recently vacated. A couple of small dents marred the polished service. Nick smiled. "Those dents will pop out on their own. I hope."

****** Sara and Nick walked into the lounge together, and found the others waiting there for them.

"Found him!" Sara smiled cheerfully. "Told him what I knew. Hey Griss! Did Brass get any new info for us?"

"They're faxing him the case file as we speak. He said he'd come down here when he got it all. In the meantime, we got the toxology reports back. Timmy had anti-freeze in his system. Ingested. From his stomach contents, looks like it was mixed into his milk. Robbins found some half digested blue cornflakes, and his stomach lining and a large portion of his upper and lower intestines, as well as his throat and esophagus, were dyed blue. Robbins places the time of death at about 4:30 pm - about an hour before he was found. He says there was enough antifreeze in his system to do serious damage to his internal organs. He died pretty quickly."

"Jesus." Nick's one word spoke volumes. Sara reached out, and gave his hand a quick squeeze. Nick didn't let it go.

Grissom narrowed his eyes and looked at their clasped hands, before continuing. "Greg ran a thorough analysis on the clothing, and the other personal effects found with the child. The stuffed elephant can only be linked to the boy. The blanket has a few nylon fibers on it off unknown origin - probably carpeting, but we're not sure yet. The pajamas were clean."

"Why would anyone in Vegas have anti-freeze?" Greg asked.

"'Cuz they're not from Vegas. Timmy was abducted in Michigan. It's January there - cold, probably lots of snow. Hence the antifreeze." Sara broke it down for Greg before Gris could respond.

"Right. Michigan. And based on that, it's probably a safe bet to assume that Timothy and his abductor drove here. I mean, if they came by public transit, why would they bring antifreeze with them?" Nick was speaking quietly, almost to himself, but Gris saw where he was heading.

"As soon as Brass arrives, we'll see if we can get our guys on the lookout for vehicles with Michigan plates. Good thinking, Nick."

"Yeah. Good thinking. And we do have a suspect - the boys' mother." Brass walked through the doorway into the office lounge, and laid several fax pages on the table. "The chief up in Michigan told me the mother was trying to get her son back from Children's Services, and wasn't having much luck. Her name is Nancy Elizabeth Watson. Nineteen years old, 110 lbs., 5' 5 ½' - brown eyes, blonde hair. I have a photocopy of her driver's license here. We can run it through the DMV and see if we can find out what type of car she may be driving."