XVIII - SHOT THROUGH THE HEART
The silence in the lounge was broken only by the rustling of papers and the occasional sigh of disgust. Nick had talked Greg into letting him use his laptop computer with the remote web set-up, and was sitting next to Sara on the two-seater in the lounge.
He had given Greg the fingerprints that had been included in the file Brass had handed him, and Greg was running them, but Nick was pretty confident that nothing would turn up. He sighed in frustration and anger as he looked at the grainy photographs that had been supplied with the information Brass had given him.
"You okay?" Sara had leaned in closer to him, her head practically on his shoulder.
"Yeah, I suppose." Nick shrugged, rolling his shoulders to relieve some of his tension.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm running the names of the children and their parents through different internet phone books, starting in Michigan. I'm starting with the most recent child and working my way backwards; and I'm focusing for the time being on unusual names. If I can pull up any likely hits, I'll call and see what I can find out. If I'm lucky, I might find someone related."
Nick's dry tone clearly suggested he didn't expect to be lucky. He tapped in another name, and looked at Sara. "It's like these children were disposable. Lost in the shuffle or - hell - who knows? All these files just seem to stop. Where were the case workers for these kids? The reports from the home visitations? It's like once they were given over to Earl, they cease to exist."
Sara picked up one of the photos Nick had arrayed across his lap. "Fasat Ayad - 8 years old, placed with Earl and Becky in 1997. Checked her yet?"
Nick grunted. "Yeah. Couldn't pull her mother or father, but managed to find 3 numbers, last name Ayad, in Michigan."
Warrick's voice piped up from the table. "When did you say she was sent to Earl?"
Sara glanced at the form in her hand. "1997. Why?"
"Shit. Of course!" Nick stood suddenly, grinning at Warrick. "Why didn't I think of that before?"
"Think of what?" Sara's voice was honestly confused. She looked at Catherine to see if she knew what was going on, but Catherine merely shrugged.
Nick and Warrick looked at each other and grinned. "I have one word for you, Sara," Warrick teased. "Symbiotics!"
Sara laughed. "C'mon, I'm lost here. Maybe it's lack of sleep -" Sara blushed as Catherine started giggling. "I mean - oh - you know what I mean!"
"Yeah, no need to elaborate." Warrick snickered, grinning at her. "Think, Sara. 1997 - that was five years ago."
"Thanks for the math lesson, Warrick. I still don't see where this is going."
"Nancy was still living there." Nick supplied, reaching down and squeezing Sara's shoulder. "We should talk to her."
* * * * *
Grissom was studying his computer screen intently. The email he had received from the coroner in Michigan had been - interesting - to say the least. The report itself was fairly standard, although the notes on the supposed 'self-mutilation' would have made Grissom laugh if the accompanying photos weren't so grisly. The coroner obviously had viewed himself as a pop psychologist, and had self-importantly inserted comments about mental disease and the supposed reasons Emily mutilated herself. Grissom wondered what the odds were that the slugs and gun were still floating around somewhere, and then realized they would never have been taken into evidence because Emily's death hadn't been 'suspicious' enough to warrant it. He sighed in disgust.
"That didn't sound good!" Sara's bright voice preceded her into his office. "How's the migraine?"
Grissom didn't want to look at her, so he kept his eyes on his computer screen and tried to read the fairly extensive list of scars the coroner had noted on the body. "Better, thank-you."
Sara walked over and leaned over Grissom's shoulder, reading as she talked. "Nick asked me to let you know we're going to re-interview Nancy - she would have known all the children that Earl and Becky fostered over the years. We're hoping she can point us in the right direction."
She was so close; Grissom could feel the heat of her body burning him through the back of his shirt. Her hair smelled spicier than usual, and Grissom realized that Sara had showered at Nick's house. A hot spurt of agonized awareness enveloped him. Somehow, Sara using Nick's shampoo seemed much more intimate to him than Sara wearing Nick's shirt. He closed his eyes.
Grissom's non-response to Sara's comments didn't seem to bother her. "Who the hell does this guy think he is? A latter-day Freud?" She read off the screen. "subject's ability to mutilate herself reveals her deep-seated need for self-immolation. One can only wonder what demons would drive a young girl to sexually mutilate herself. Perhaps her father didn't love her enough when she was a child, perhaps the onset of adolescence and the changes occurring to her body was too much for her young psyche to absorb." Sara rolled her eyes in disgust. "This guy's a quack."
Grissom grunted in agreement, mentally exhorting himself to think about the case, and not about Sara. Now was not the time, and he was still coming to grips with his discussion with Catherine earlier. "Apparently, he's a guest lecturer at a couple of local colleges and universities. Look at this-" he pointed to the list of scars, "- female circumcision. How anyone could think a woman could do something like that - to herself - is beyond me."
Sara met Grissom's eyes in the reflection of the computer screen. "Anything we can use to prove that Earl killed her?"
"Uh - no, not yet, but I've just started. His prints were found on the gun, so we know he handled it. But he was never tested for powder residue. No one ever questioned his whereabouts because his wife said they had been out, and returned to find Emily dead. The coroner, the police - everyone - just accepted she had killed herself because of the so called 'evidence' in medical records that she had mental problems."
Grissom clicked the mouse on another file, opening up photos from the autopsy. He and Sara studied them silently. "Grissom -" Sara's voice was low, and she reached over his shoulder and pointed at the screen. Out of his peripheral vision, Grissom saw the small Texas flag embroidered on her sleeve and he frowned. "All these scars, and yet her face is flawless. I thought the coroner told you she had been shot in the head, but she shot herself in the heart? And it looks like the bullet tracked downwards. Was she right or left handed?"
Grissom sighed. "Left. And from the look of that wound, the gun wasn't pressed against her chest when the trigger was pulled - no scorch marks, and not clean enough."
"So," Sara interrupted excitedly, "she takes the gun in her left hand, stretches her arms out and up like so," Grissom swiveled slightly in his seat, watching Sara as she reenacted the coroners report, "twists her hands inward and shots herself clean through the heart?"
She smiled at Grissom. Grissom smiled back. "I don't think so."
__________
Author's note: Just to let you all know, Earl will be making an appearance in the next chapter.
The silence in the lounge was broken only by the rustling of papers and the occasional sigh of disgust. Nick had talked Greg into letting him use his laptop computer with the remote web set-up, and was sitting next to Sara on the two-seater in the lounge.
He had given Greg the fingerprints that had been included in the file Brass had handed him, and Greg was running them, but Nick was pretty confident that nothing would turn up. He sighed in frustration and anger as he looked at the grainy photographs that had been supplied with the information Brass had given him.
"You okay?" Sara had leaned in closer to him, her head practically on his shoulder.
"Yeah, I suppose." Nick shrugged, rolling his shoulders to relieve some of his tension.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm running the names of the children and their parents through different internet phone books, starting in Michigan. I'm starting with the most recent child and working my way backwards; and I'm focusing for the time being on unusual names. If I can pull up any likely hits, I'll call and see what I can find out. If I'm lucky, I might find someone related."
Nick's dry tone clearly suggested he didn't expect to be lucky. He tapped in another name, and looked at Sara. "It's like these children were disposable. Lost in the shuffle or - hell - who knows? All these files just seem to stop. Where were the case workers for these kids? The reports from the home visitations? It's like once they were given over to Earl, they cease to exist."
Sara picked up one of the photos Nick had arrayed across his lap. "Fasat Ayad - 8 years old, placed with Earl and Becky in 1997. Checked her yet?"
Nick grunted. "Yeah. Couldn't pull her mother or father, but managed to find 3 numbers, last name Ayad, in Michigan."
Warrick's voice piped up from the table. "When did you say she was sent to Earl?"
Sara glanced at the form in her hand. "1997. Why?"
"Shit. Of course!" Nick stood suddenly, grinning at Warrick. "Why didn't I think of that before?"
"Think of what?" Sara's voice was honestly confused. She looked at Catherine to see if she knew what was going on, but Catherine merely shrugged.
Nick and Warrick looked at each other and grinned. "I have one word for you, Sara," Warrick teased. "Symbiotics!"
Sara laughed. "C'mon, I'm lost here. Maybe it's lack of sleep -" Sara blushed as Catherine started giggling. "I mean - oh - you know what I mean!"
"Yeah, no need to elaborate." Warrick snickered, grinning at her. "Think, Sara. 1997 - that was five years ago."
"Thanks for the math lesson, Warrick. I still don't see where this is going."
"Nancy was still living there." Nick supplied, reaching down and squeezing Sara's shoulder. "We should talk to her."
* * * * *
Grissom was studying his computer screen intently. The email he had received from the coroner in Michigan had been - interesting - to say the least. The report itself was fairly standard, although the notes on the supposed 'self-mutilation' would have made Grissom laugh if the accompanying photos weren't so grisly. The coroner obviously had viewed himself as a pop psychologist, and had self-importantly inserted comments about mental disease and the supposed reasons Emily mutilated herself. Grissom wondered what the odds were that the slugs and gun were still floating around somewhere, and then realized they would never have been taken into evidence because Emily's death hadn't been 'suspicious' enough to warrant it. He sighed in disgust.
"That didn't sound good!" Sara's bright voice preceded her into his office. "How's the migraine?"
Grissom didn't want to look at her, so he kept his eyes on his computer screen and tried to read the fairly extensive list of scars the coroner had noted on the body. "Better, thank-you."
Sara walked over and leaned over Grissom's shoulder, reading as she talked. "Nick asked me to let you know we're going to re-interview Nancy - she would have known all the children that Earl and Becky fostered over the years. We're hoping she can point us in the right direction."
She was so close; Grissom could feel the heat of her body burning him through the back of his shirt. Her hair smelled spicier than usual, and Grissom realized that Sara had showered at Nick's house. A hot spurt of agonized awareness enveloped him. Somehow, Sara using Nick's shampoo seemed much more intimate to him than Sara wearing Nick's shirt. He closed his eyes.
Grissom's non-response to Sara's comments didn't seem to bother her. "Who the hell does this guy think he is? A latter-day Freud?" She read off the screen. "subject's ability to mutilate herself reveals her deep-seated need for self-immolation. One can only wonder what demons would drive a young girl to sexually mutilate herself. Perhaps her father didn't love her enough when she was a child, perhaps the onset of adolescence and the changes occurring to her body was too much for her young psyche to absorb." Sara rolled her eyes in disgust. "This guy's a quack."
Grissom grunted in agreement, mentally exhorting himself to think about the case, and not about Sara. Now was not the time, and he was still coming to grips with his discussion with Catherine earlier. "Apparently, he's a guest lecturer at a couple of local colleges and universities. Look at this-" he pointed to the list of scars, "- female circumcision. How anyone could think a woman could do something like that - to herself - is beyond me."
Sara met Grissom's eyes in the reflection of the computer screen. "Anything we can use to prove that Earl killed her?"
"Uh - no, not yet, but I've just started. His prints were found on the gun, so we know he handled it. But he was never tested for powder residue. No one ever questioned his whereabouts because his wife said they had been out, and returned to find Emily dead. The coroner, the police - everyone - just accepted she had killed herself because of the so called 'evidence' in medical records that she had mental problems."
Grissom clicked the mouse on another file, opening up photos from the autopsy. He and Sara studied them silently. "Grissom -" Sara's voice was low, and she reached over his shoulder and pointed at the screen. Out of his peripheral vision, Grissom saw the small Texas flag embroidered on her sleeve and he frowned. "All these scars, and yet her face is flawless. I thought the coroner told you she had been shot in the head, but she shot herself in the heart? And it looks like the bullet tracked downwards. Was she right or left handed?"
Grissom sighed. "Left. And from the look of that wound, the gun wasn't pressed against her chest when the trigger was pulled - no scorch marks, and not clean enough."
"So," Sara interrupted excitedly, "she takes the gun in her left hand, stretches her arms out and up like so," Grissom swiveled slightly in his seat, watching Sara as she reenacted the coroners report, "twists her hands inward and shots herself clean through the heart?"
She smiled at Grissom. Grissom smiled back. "I don't think so."
__________
Author's note: Just to let you all know, Earl will be making an appearance in the next chapter.
