XX - EARL IS IN THE BUILDING
It was 3:45 pm. Nick knew this because he kept looking at his watch. In 15 minutes or so, Brass would be escorting Earl and his wife into the building, and Nick had never felt so sick in his whole entire life.
Just over 30 minutes earlier, Nancy had been escorted by Sara and Warrick into a second smaller interrogation room, just in case they needed to ask her to confirm anything. She was sitting there with O'Reilly now, lost in her own little world of make-believe and denial.
Nick grimaced. He honestly did not know what to feel about Nancy. Normally, he would view the murderer of a little child as a piece of dirt, lower than scum, not worthy of the oxygen it took to keep them alive, but he couldn't feel this way about Nancy. There was something about her that was so fragile. Nick closed his eyes and sighed again.
Nancy reminded him of a mourning dove he had once found as a little boy. It had been shot through the wing with a bb pellet and he had found it, fluttering and lame, on the side of the road. He remembered how gently he had picked it up, crooning softly as he wrapped it in his sweater before running home to show his mother. He had wanted so hard for that dove to be whole and fly again, but it never had. Despite his best intentions, it had died within two days. He remembered crying in his mother's arms, asking her how God could let something so beautiful be hurt, and his mother had replied in her soft Texan drawl that beautiful things were hurt every day, and that the dove wasn't suffering anymore.
Nancy was like his dove, broken and lame, irrevocably damaged by the evil that men do every day. In her mind, killing Timmy and Fayad had been a perfectly logical thing to do - she had honestly thought she was freeing them from Earl.
Warrick had been great with Nancy, patient and understanding, asking her questions about the children, how they had died. Nick had admired him for it. He and Sara had been so shaken by Nancy's revelations, they could hardly think. Nancy had told them her Aunt Becky was the sister of the area's regional director for Children's Services, and that's why no flags were ever raised when these kids went missing. Earl was always very careful to take children where parental rights had been rescinded, and with the amount of needy children flooding the system, it was easy for them to slip through the cracks.
Whenever a child was killed, Becky would simply call her sister and get another one. No one asked questions, and no one did home visits. Brass had called Davis, the sheriff in Michigan, told him where to find the missing children, and told him about Becky's sister. Hopefully, arrests were being made this second.
Obviously Becky Reynolds had been very involved in procuring children for her husband to abuse, torture and murder. Nancy said Becky had also been abused by Earl and had the scars to prove it. She said Becky was so scared of Earl, she did everything he told her too. And if that meant providing kids for Earl to kill, so be it.
When they had finally finished the interview, Nancy had been moved down the hall, and Nick had found himself crying in Sara's arms for the second time in two days.
* * * * *
It was 3:50 pm. Grissom knew this, because he kept looking at his watch. In 10 minutes or so, Brass would be escorting Earl and his wife into the building, and Grissom - for the first time in his life - had no idea how he was going to react.
He smiled as he remembered the look on Catherine's face as she had surveyed the damage he had caused his office after Nancy's revelations. She had taken in the shattered glass, the blue stain the embalming fluid had left on the wall and the pig fetus on the floor, and merely raised an eyebrow at him. "Feel better?"
Oddly enough he had felt better, and when Catherine had gingerly stepped over the glass shards, nudging Miss Piggy out of the way with the toe of her high-heeled shoe before sliding down to sit beside him on the floor, he had admitted as much.
She had nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, an arch little smile on her lips, as she nodded at a new specimen he had recently added to his office - a large American Bullfrog with four back legs, perfectly preserved and floating in a jar on his shelving unit. "Sure you don't want to throw Kermit too? I wouldn't mind."
Grissom, who rarely smiled, had broken into great bellowing peals of laughter, and he and Catherine had tried to clean up the mess. Now, forty minutes later, despite his anxiety about this case and the entire situation with Earl, Grissom was - inexplicably - happy.
* * * * *
Sara was emotionally drained. Standing at the vending machine, she realized she didn't have the energy or the desire to actually feed it quarters until it gave her food. She wished she was back at her place with Nick, listening to music, cooking breakfast - dancing. She grinned at that last thought, even as she felt a slow blush creep up her neck. Damn! This sudden propensity for blushing, even when no one else was around to see it, was getting tedious.
Pumping quarters into the machine, she quickly retrieved a roast beef sandwich for Nick and an egg-salad sandwich for herself, before heading back towards the lounge, where Nick was waiting. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was 3:55 - Brass should be arriving with Earl and Becky any minute.
Rushing down the hallway, she stopped and stuck her head into Grissom's office to see if he was aware of the time. As she had suspected, Grissom was studying the case file.
"No rest for the weary, eh?" She commented, as she stepped into the room.
Grissom looked up at her question, shaking his head. "Actually, I'm trying to keep myself occupied until Brass arrives with our special guest." He looked at his watch. "Only five more minutes or so to go."
Sara smiled. "Just wanted to make sure you weren't absorbed in Entomology Weekly." She teased, glancing around his office. "Hey, where's the little piggy?"
"Gone to market?" Catherine responded, sticking her head in the doorway. "Warrick's down in the lounge with Nicky, who's complaining about dying of starvation." Catherine grinned at Sara, looking pointedly at the sandwiches in her hands. "Brass called me on his cell - he's just parking. Time to put on our game faces, everyone. Earl is in the building."
* * * * *
Earl Watson was not a big man, but he was not small either. Standing roughly 5'10", and weighing about 180 lbs., his upper body was muscular. He was wearing a pair of perfectly creased casual pants and a collarless black cashmere knit shirt. His hair was a dirty blond, graying at the sides, and cut army short. Reaching forward and shake Grissom's hand, he reminded Grissom of his next door neighbor. Grissom, his face carefully school to hide his revulsion, tried not to shudder.
"Mr. Watson. Thank you so much for coming all the way out here." He turned, extending his hand to Becky, who avoided looking at anything other than her shoes. Grissom's hand hung there, awkwardly in mid-air, before lowering to his side.
"Pardon my wife, Mr. Grissom." Earl said. "She's distraught, and hasn't been herself since we found out about Timmy." Earl's voice was deep, and well-modulated. He smiled at Grissom as he shrugged his shoulders. Grissom noted the smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Perfectly understandable, Mr. Watson." Catherine's glance flicked to Earl, before landing on Nancy. Although attractive and well-groomed, she appeared to be nothing more than a shadow.
Earl ignored her, instead addressing Grissom in the manner that implied they were the last two bastions of masculinity in a feminine world run amuck. "You know how emotional the ladies can get. If we didn't need them for survival of the species." he shrugged.
Catherine felt her teeth clench, and the angry heat that had been pooling in her stomach for the last two days started bubbling. Grissom felt her tense-up beside him, and shot her a warning glance.
"Why don't you follow me, Mr. Watson, Mrs. Watson." Grissom turned and started walking down the hallway. "We just have a few formalities, papers to sign, that sort of thing. We'll be much more comfortable in our interview room."
* * * * *
Looking at Earl from behind the one way mirror, Sara sighed in disgust. "He looks so - normal. I don't know why that surprises me."
Earl was asking Grissom about the murder, pumping him for details on how Timmy had died, how he had been found.
"Bastards loving this." Nick remarked, flicking his hand in Earl's direction. "He's getting a rush from this. Look at him, he's practically on the edge of his seat!" His voice was seething with rage.
"Easy Nick." Warrick warned. "Remember what Grissom said - we have to stay cool. We know he's a bastard, but he doesn't know we know. And it's going to be worth it when he realizes he's caught. Grissom's just reeling him in here."
Nick smiled tightly, and took a deep breath. "I know. Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything stupid." His gaze traveled to Becky, dismissively. "I don't even think she's paying attention. She hasn't said one word since they arrived."
It was 3:45 pm. Nick knew this because he kept looking at his watch. In 15 minutes or so, Brass would be escorting Earl and his wife into the building, and Nick had never felt so sick in his whole entire life.
Just over 30 minutes earlier, Nancy had been escorted by Sara and Warrick into a second smaller interrogation room, just in case they needed to ask her to confirm anything. She was sitting there with O'Reilly now, lost in her own little world of make-believe and denial.
Nick grimaced. He honestly did not know what to feel about Nancy. Normally, he would view the murderer of a little child as a piece of dirt, lower than scum, not worthy of the oxygen it took to keep them alive, but he couldn't feel this way about Nancy. There was something about her that was so fragile. Nick closed his eyes and sighed again.
Nancy reminded him of a mourning dove he had once found as a little boy. It had been shot through the wing with a bb pellet and he had found it, fluttering and lame, on the side of the road. He remembered how gently he had picked it up, crooning softly as he wrapped it in his sweater before running home to show his mother. He had wanted so hard for that dove to be whole and fly again, but it never had. Despite his best intentions, it had died within two days. He remembered crying in his mother's arms, asking her how God could let something so beautiful be hurt, and his mother had replied in her soft Texan drawl that beautiful things were hurt every day, and that the dove wasn't suffering anymore.
Nancy was like his dove, broken and lame, irrevocably damaged by the evil that men do every day. In her mind, killing Timmy and Fayad had been a perfectly logical thing to do - she had honestly thought she was freeing them from Earl.
Warrick had been great with Nancy, patient and understanding, asking her questions about the children, how they had died. Nick had admired him for it. He and Sara had been so shaken by Nancy's revelations, they could hardly think. Nancy had told them her Aunt Becky was the sister of the area's regional director for Children's Services, and that's why no flags were ever raised when these kids went missing. Earl was always very careful to take children where parental rights had been rescinded, and with the amount of needy children flooding the system, it was easy for them to slip through the cracks.
Whenever a child was killed, Becky would simply call her sister and get another one. No one asked questions, and no one did home visits. Brass had called Davis, the sheriff in Michigan, told him where to find the missing children, and told him about Becky's sister. Hopefully, arrests were being made this second.
Obviously Becky Reynolds had been very involved in procuring children for her husband to abuse, torture and murder. Nancy said Becky had also been abused by Earl and had the scars to prove it. She said Becky was so scared of Earl, she did everything he told her too. And if that meant providing kids for Earl to kill, so be it.
When they had finally finished the interview, Nancy had been moved down the hall, and Nick had found himself crying in Sara's arms for the second time in two days.
* * * * *
It was 3:50 pm. Grissom knew this, because he kept looking at his watch. In 10 minutes or so, Brass would be escorting Earl and his wife into the building, and Grissom - for the first time in his life - had no idea how he was going to react.
He smiled as he remembered the look on Catherine's face as she had surveyed the damage he had caused his office after Nancy's revelations. She had taken in the shattered glass, the blue stain the embalming fluid had left on the wall and the pig fetus on the floor, and merely raised an eyebrow at him. "Feel better?"
Oddly enough he had felt better, and when Catherine had gingerly stepped over the glass shards, nudging Miss Piggy out of the way with the toe of her high-heeled shoe before sliding down to sit beside him on the floor, he had admitted as much.
She had nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, an arch little smile on her lips, as she nodded at a new specimen he had recently added to his office - a large American Bullfrog with four back legs, perfectly preserved and floating in a jar on his shelving unit. "Sure you don't want to throw Kermit too? I wouldn't mind."
Grissom, who rarely smiled, had broken into great bellowing peals of laughter, and he and Catherine had tried to clean up the mess. Now, forty minutes later, despite his anxiety about this case and the entire situation with Earl, Grissom was - inexplicably - happy.
* * * * *
Sara was emotionally drained. Standing at the vending machine, she realized she didn't have the energy or the desire to actually feed it quarters until it gave her food. She wished she was back at her place with Nick, listening to music, cooking breakfast - dancing. She grinned at that last thought, even as she felt a slow blush creep up her neck. Damn! This sudden propensity for blushing, even when no one else was around to see it, was getting tedious.
Pumping quarters into the machine, she quickly retrieved a roast beef sandwich for Nick and an egg-salad sandwich for herself, before heading back towards the lounge, where Nick was waiting. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was 3:55 - Brass should be arriving with Earl and Becky any minute.
Rushing down the hallway, she stopped and stuck her head into Grissom's office to see if he was aware of the time. As she had suspected, Grissom was studying the case file.
"No rest for the weary, eh?" She commented, as she stepped into the room.
Grissom looked up at her question, shaking his head. "Actually, I'm trying to keep myself occupied until Brass arrives with our special guest." He looked at his watch. "Only five more minutes or so to go."
Sara smiled. "Just wanted to make sure you weren't absorbed in Entomology Weekly." She teased, glancing around his office. "Hey, where's the little piggy?"
"Gone to market?" Catherine responded, sticking her head in the doorway. "Warrick's down in the lounge with Nicky, who's complaining about dying of starvation." Catherine grinned at Sara, looking pointedly at the sandwiches in her hands. "Brass called me on his cell - he's just parking. Time to put on our game faces, everyone. Earl is in the building."
* * * * *
Earl Watson was not a big man, but he was not small either. Standing roughly 5'10", and weighing about 180 lbs., his upper body was muscular. He was wearing a pair of perfectly creased casual pants and a collarless black cashmere knit shirt. His hair was a dirty blond, graying at the sides, and cut army short. Reaching forward and shake Grissom's hand, he reminded Grissom of his next door neighbor. Grissom, his face carefully school to hide his revulsion, tried not to shudder.
"Mr. Watson. Thank you so much for coming all the way out here." He turned, extending his hand to Becky, who avoided looking at anything other than her shoes. Grissom's hand hung there, awkwardly in mid-air, before lowering to his side.
"Pardon my wife, Mr. Grissom." Earl said. "She's distraught, and hasn't been herself since we found out about Timmy." Earl's voice was deep, and well-modulated. He smiled at Grissom as he shrugged his shoulders. Grissom noted the smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Perfectly understandable, Mr. Watson." Catherine's glance flicked to Earl, before landing on Nancy. Although attractive and well-groomed, she appeared to be nothing more than a shadow.
Earl ignored her, instead addressing Grissom in the manner that implied they were the last two bastions of masculinity in a feminine world run amuck. "You know how emotional the ladies can get. If we didn't need them for survival of the species." he shrugged.
Catherine felt her teeth clench, and the angry heat that had been pooling in her stomach for the last two days started bubbling. Grissom felt her tense-up beside him, and shot her a warning glance.
"Why don't you follow me, Mr. Watson, Mrs. Watson." Grissom turned and started walking down the hallway. "We just have a few formalities, papers to sign, that sort of thing. We'll be much more comfortable in our interview room."
* * * * *
Looking at Earl from behind the one way mirror, Sara sighed in disgust. "He looks so - normal. I don't know why that surprises me."
Earl was asking Grissom about the murder, pumping him for details on how Timmy had died, how he had been found.
"Bastards loving this." Nick remarked, flicking his hand in Earl's direction. "He's getting a rush from this. Look at him, he's practically on the edge of his seat!" His voice was seething with rage.
"Easy Nick." Warrick warned. "Remember what Grissom said - we have to stay cool. We know he's a bastard, but he doesn't know we know. And it's going to be worth it when he realizes he's caught. Grissom's just reeling him in here."
Nick smiled tightly, and took a deep breath. "I know. Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything stupid." His gaze traveled to Becky, dismissively. "I don't even think she's paying attention. She hasn't said one word since they arrived."
