XIX - THE DEATH OF MISS PIGGY
Nancy looked much better than she had yesterday. She had been given a clean prison jumpsuit to wear, and had obviously had a shower. Her hair, which yesterday had been greasy and matted, now shone brightly and hung about her face in soft waves. She still held the picture Grissom had given her tightly in her hands.
Catherine felt her heart twist at the sight of the young girl. Life had treated her badly. "Hi Nancy." she said quietly.
"Hi Ms. Willows. Hi, Mr. Stokes." Nancy smiled shyly at them from behind the bars of her holding cell, before looking back at her picture.
"Nancy, do you feel up to talking to us a bit more about Earl?" Nick's voice was gentle. "We've received some information from Michigan, and we think you might be able to help us."
"Don't like talking about Earl." Nancy whispered softly. "Don't like it all."
"We know you don't Nancy," Catherine's voice was just as gentle as Nick's had been, "but we think you might have information for us that could put Earl away for a long time."
Nancy looked up and smiled again. "Really?" Her voice was tentative, "I can make him go away?"
Nick merely nodded. "We're going to take you back upstairs, and then we'll talk, okay?" He nodded to the police officer standing beside them, watching silently as he unlocked the door to her cell. When he stepped forward to put handcuffs on her, Catherine quickly stopped him.
"Those aren't necessary. She's not a threat." The officer turned to her, one eyebrow raised, but didn't push the issue.
"Fine. But if something happens, it's your responsibility."
* * * * *
Grissom was so pre-occupied with thoughts of Sara and the case they were working on, he didn't see Brass until he'd almost run right in to him.
"Guess what I just found out?" Brass said. "Go on, guess!"
Grissom smiled at his friend. "Are you channeling Greg now, Brass? If I wanted to play guessing games, I'd go talk to him."
Brass smirked. "Grumpy. Our friendly Michigan sheriff just faxed me through Earl's birth certificate, and his wedding certificate."
Grissom looked at Brass, thoughtfully. Brass could almost see the wheels turning in his head. "Okay. Birth certificate and marriage license. I'm listening."
"Here - look at them." Brass handed the documents in question to Grissom. He was enjoying knowing something before Grissom for a change - it didn't happen often, and he wanted to savor it.
Grissom sighed and took the documents. He read the marriage license first. It had been registered over 22 years ago, in Adrian, Michigan. Earl Watson had married Becky Reynolds in a civil ceremony at the court house. Grissom frowned. He looked at the birth certificate, Earl Arnold Watson, born July 27, 1955. "Why didn't any of us see this before?"
Brass shrugged. "I don't think any of us really want to look too closely at the familial relationships here. We just assumed Becky and Emily were sisters, and Earl had married into the family. It was bad enough when we found out Nancy was his daughter - but this? I feel like I'm stuck in a bad country and western song."
Grissom smiled, but his smile held no mirth. "I'm my own Grandpa. But in this case, he's the brother, father, uncle, and grandfather."
"And murderer. Don't forget that."
* * * * *
Nick and Warrick had carefully laid the pictures Brass had given them on the table top, side by side, starting with Rayford Brown, who had been sent to live with the Watson's in 1988, and ending with Fasad Ayat, the last child who had been placed with them in 1997.
Nick said nothing as he placed them, just looked at the grainy black and white pictures, every once in a while shaking his head. He knew, without a doubt, that the names of every single one of these children would be emblazoned in his mind as long as he lived.
Behind the mirror, Nick knew that Grissom and Catherine were waiting patiently for them to start. Sara was talking to Nancy on the other side of the room. He smiled at the sound of their soft murmurs, Sara's gentle agreement with Nancy as she talked about how beautiful Timmy was. Finally finished his task, he interrupted them.
"Nancy - would you mind coming here and looking at these?" He stepped to the side, carefully watching her as she moved towards him.
Her eyes glanced at the photos, and quickly shot to his, her face a mask of pain. "I can't. I can't do it."
Warrick, who up until this point had been silent, offered his support. "You can do it Nancy."
Nancy looked at him, biting her lip uncertainly. "I'm afraid. I can still hear them screaming." She trailed her fingers along the table, picking up a grainy photo of a small dark-haired girl. "Hi Samantha," she crooned, looking at the image in her hand. She looked at Warrick again, tears in her eyes.
"She was like my sister." Her voice was soft, as she sighed. "Earl used her to control me. He used all of them to control me. If I did something really bad; if I argued with him; if I fought with him when he -" she stopped, shaking her head. "He would hurt them. He would hurt me, but he would hurt them more."
She put Samantha's picture down, and picked up one of a little boy. "This is Andy. He was a lot of fun. When Earl was cutting of my - my - left breast, Andy tried to save me. Earl stabbed him."
She was visibly shaking now, tears streaming down her face. "Why would Andy do that? Why would he try to save me? I screamed. I screamed and screamed and screamed, and Earl just laughed. He left me locked in the room with Andy for two days before he took him away and buried him."
Nancy's voice sounded odd and hollow, her eyes were glassy and unfocused. "He threw them all away."
"Do you know where he took them, Nancy. We need to find them; they deserve to be found." Nick's voice was shaky as he spoke to Nancy. Sara looked at him, concern for Nick and horror at what Nancy was saying warring for dominance in her eyes. Without conscious thought, she walked over to Nick and gripped his hand.
"They're in the old well. They're all in the well." Nancy traced her fingers over the photos, her expression far away. "Doug was so scared. Emily - she just wanted her mommy. Audra, Julie, Emily. I tried not to love them because I knew. I knew if I loved them, he would use them to hurt me. And I was right. I loved them and they are all dead. He killed them all." She stopped, picking up the picture of Fayad. "Except Fayad. She was so tiny. So helpless. I set her free the day after Earl brought her home. Earl didn't bring anymore children home after that."
* * * * *
Behind the one-way mirror Grissom leaned forward and rested his head on the glass, hands tightly clenched around the small sill. His entire body was tight with controlled rage. Catherine stood off to the side, tears streaming down her face.
Grissom looked into the interview room. His team - his CSI's - were standing there in shock. Warrick looked like he had been kicked in the stomach and Sara had thrown her arms around Nick's waist and had her head hidden in his chest. Both were shaking.
Gasping with emotion, Grissom violently pushed himself away from the sill he had been gripping, and spun out of the room. He barely had time to register the surprised look on Catherine's face as he pushed by her, and out into the hallway, breaking into a dead run to his office.
He wanted to kill someone. He wanted to kill Earl. Grabbing the first thing in his office he could put his hand on, he focused all his anger and pain and threw it with all his might against the far wall.
The sharp sound of shattering glass, followed by the acrid scent of embalming fluid filled his office. As quickly as Grissom's rage had arrived it dissipated, and he weakly slid to the floor, back against his desk.
He was just sitting there, staring at nothing, when Catherine rushed into his office, her face a mask of concern.
"What the hell was that!" she asked.
Grissom looked up at her and smiled sadly. "I think I just killed Miss Piggy."
_____
Author's note: Okay, I know I said Earl would be making an appearance in this chapter, but I lied. Sorry - he is definitely in the next one though - I promise!
Nancy looked much better than she had yesterday. She had been given a clean prison jumpsuit to wear, and had obviously had a shower. Her hair, which yesterday had been greasy and matted, now shone brightly and hung about her face in soft waves. She still held the picture Grissom had given her tightly in her hands.
Catherine felt her heart twist at the sight of the young girl. Life had treated her badly. "Hi Nancy." she said quietly.
"Hi Ms. Willows. Hi, Mr. Stokes." Nancy smiled shyly at them from behind the bars of her holding cell, before looking back at her picture.
"Nancy, do you feel up to talking to us a bit more about Earl?" Nick's voice was gentle. "We've received some information from Michigan, and we think you might be able to help us."
"Don't like talking about Earl." Nancy whispered softly. "Don't like it all."
"We know you don't Nancy," Catherine's voice was just as gentle as Nick's had been, "but we think you might have information for us that could put Earl away for a long time."
Nancy looked up and smiled again. "Really?" Her voice was tentative, "I can make him go away?"
Nick merely nodded. "We're going to take you back upstairs, and then we'll talk, okay?" He nodded to the police officer standing beside them, watching silently as he unlocked the door to her cell. When he stepped forward to put handcuffs on her, Catherine quickly stopped him.
"Those aren't necessary. She's not a threat." The officer turned to her, one eyebrow raised, but didn't push the issue.
"Fine. But if something happens, it's your responsibility."
* * * * *
Grissom was so pre-occupied with thoughts of Sara and the case they were working on, he didn't see Brass until he'd almost run right in to him.
"Guess what I just found out?" Brass said. "Go on, guess!"
Grissom smiled at his friend. "Are you channeling Greg now, Brass? If I wanted to play guessing games, I'd go talk to him."
Brass smirked. "Grumpy. Our friendly Michigan sheriff just faxed me through Earl's birth certificate, and his wedding certificate."
Grissom looked at Brass, thoughtfully. Brass could almost see the wheels turning in his head. "Okay. Birth certificate and marriage license. I'm listening."
"Here - look at them." Brass handed the documents in question to Grissom. He was enjoying knowing something before Grissom for a change - it didn't happen often, and he wanted to savor it.
Grissom sighed and took the documents. He read the marriage license first. It had been registered over 22 years ago, in Adrian, Michigan. Earl Watson had married Becky Reynolds in a civil ceremony at the court house. Grissom frowned. He looked at the birth certificate, Earl Arnold Watson, born July 27, 1955. "Why didn't any of us see this before?"
Brass shrugged. "I don't think any of us really want to look too closely at the familial relationships here. We just assumed Becky and Emily were sisters, and Earl had married into the family. It was bad enough when we found out Nancy was his daughter - but this? I feel like I'm stuck in a bad country and western song."
Grissom smiled, but his smile held no mirth. "I'm my own Grandpa. But in this case, he's the brother, father, uncle, and grandfather."
"And murderer. Don't forget that."
* * * * *
Nick and Warrick had carefully laid the pictures Brass had given them on the table top, side by side, starting with Rayford Brown, who had been sent to live with the Watson's in 1988, and ending with Fasad Ayat, the last child who had been placed with them in 1997.
Nick said nothing as he placed them, just looked at the grainy black and white pictures, every once in a while shaking his head. He knew, without a doubt, that the names of every single one of these children would be emblazoned in his mind as long as he lived.
Behind the mirror, Nick knew that Grissom and Catherine were waiting patiently for them to start. Sara was talking to Nancy on the other side of the room. He smiled at the sound of their soft murmurs, Sara's gentle agreement with Nancy as she talked about how beautiful Timmy was. Finally finished his task, he interrupted them.
"Nancy - would you mind coming here and looking at these?" He stepped to the side, carefully watching her as she moved towards him.
Her eyes glanced at the photos, and quickly shot to his, her face a mask of pain. "I can't. I can't do it."
Warrick, who up until this point had been silent, offered his support. "You can do it Nancy."
Nancy looked at him, biting her lip uncertainly. "I'm afraid. I can still hear them screaming." She trailed her fingers along the table, picking up a grainy photo of a small dark-haired girl. "Hi Samantha," she crooned, looking at the image in her hand. She looked at Warrick again, tears in her eyes.
"She was like my sister." Her voice was soft, as she sighed. "Earl used her to control me. He used all of them to control me. If I did something really bad; if I argued with him; if I fought with him when he -" she stopped, shaking her head. "He would hurt them. He would hurt me, but he would hurt them more."
She put Samantha's picture down, and picked up one of a little boy. "This is Andy. He was a lot of fun. When Earl was cutting of my - my - left breast, Andy tried to save me. Earl stabbed him."
She was visibly shaking now, tears streaming down her face. "Why would Andy do that? Why would he try to save me? I screamed. I screamed and screamed and screamed, and Earl just laughed. He left me locked in the room with Andy for two days before he took him away and buried him."
Nancy's voice sounded odd and hollow, her eyes were glassy and unfocused. "He threw them all away."
"Do you know where he took them, Nancy. We need to find them; they deserve to be found." Nick's voice was shaky as he spoke to Nancy. Sara looked at him, concern for Nick and horror at what Nancy was saying warring for dominance in her eyes. Without conscious thought, she walked over to Nick and gripped his hand.
"They're in the old well. They're all in the well." Nancy traced her fingers over the photos, her expression far away. "Doug was so scared. Emily - she just wanted her mommy. Audra, Julie, Emily. I tried not to love them because I knew. I knew if I loved them, he would use them to hurt me. And I was right. I loved them and they are all dead. He killed them all." She stopped, picking up the picture of Fayad. "Except Fayad. She was so tiny. So helpless. I set her free the day after Earl brought her home. Earl didn't bring anymore children home after that."
* * * * *
Behind the one-way mirror Grissom leaned forward and rested his head on the glass, hands tightly clenched around the small sill. His entire body was tight with controlled rage. Catherine stood off to the side, tears streaming down her face.
Grissom looked into the interview room. His team - his CSI's - were standing there in shock. Warrick looked like he had been kicked in the stomach and Sara had thrown her arms around Nick's waist and had her head hidden in his chest. Both were shaking.
Gasping with emotion, Grissom violently pushed himself away from the sill he had been gripping, and spun out of the room. He barely had time to register the surprised look on Catherine's face as he pushed by her, and out into the hallway, breaking into a dead run to his office.
He wanted to kill someone. He wanted to kill Earl. Grabbing the first thing in his office he could put his hand on, he focused all his anger and pain and threw it with all his might against the far wall.
The sharp sound of shattering glass, followed by the acrid scent of embalming fluid filled his office. As quickly as Grissom's rage had arrived it dissipated, and he weakly slid to the floor, back against his desk.
He was just sitting there, staring at nothing, when Catherine rushed into his office, her face a mask of concern.
"What the hell was that!" she asked.
Grissom looked up at her and smiled sadly. "I think I just killed Miss Piggy."
_____
Author's note: Okay, I know I said Earl would be making an appearance in this chapter, but I lied. Sorry - he is definitely in the next one though - I promise!
