Grissom was sitting at his desk, his back to the door......
Was it possible he thought, had the killer been right in front of them all along. The very man who claimed to try and save Debra Farmer. He was the one who told them about Vince Francis, could this have been a ploy to throw them off, to set Francis up for the crime he committed. But so far we don't have any evidence to point directly to him or anyone else yet, all we have is two men, married men, who were having or had had an affair with the victim.
Sara walked in, "Grissom."
He didn't respond and continued deep in his thoughts........
There's something we're missing, some piece of evidence we haven't found.
Sara reached out a touched Grissom on the shoulder, "Grissom."
Startled more by her touch more than by the sound of her voice, Grissom looked up.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
He turned to face her, "That's okay."
"You're thinking about the case aren't you?"
"Am I that obvious?"
"You, obvious?" Sara smiled, "never."
Before Grissom could respond there was a tentative knock on the door, "Come in Greg," he sighed.
"Hi Sara," he almost couldn't contain himself as he handed Grissom the files he was carrying. "I'll think you'll find this interesting."
He fidgeted while Grissom read the contents. "Are you sure about these results?"
"You doubt me?" he started to say but as Grissom looked up from the results over his glasses he sheepishly replied, "I ran the tests twice."
"Good job Greg."
Greg left and shut the door behind him. "Yes, I rock!" he smiled and headed back to the lab.
"What'd we get?" Sara pulled a chair up to the desk.
"Some very interesting results. According to this, from the time the fire started to the time it was put out by the firefighters, couldn't have been more than thirty minutes. And the report from the first firefighters on the scene concur with Greg's tests of the burnt materials."
"Thirty minutes? The time of death was established as midnight. So that means.....what, some kind of timing device?" Sara leaned in for a closer look.
"Except we didn't find one."
"Then that would mean whoever did it killed her at midnight, then came back later to start the fire. So where do we go from here?" Sara said as she leaned back in her chair.
"Well, Vince Francis has an alibi, flimsy as we may think it is, it's still an alibi for now. So we start with the person who found her."
"Brad Henderson," Sara shook her head in disbelief. "He got off duty at 3 A.M. There couldn't have been enough time for him to get there and start the fire. Besides, he was on duty when she died."
"As to the question of time," Grissom searched through the reports on his desk, "his call reporting the fire was received at 3:25 A.M. and the fire was reported out at 3:45."
"That gives him only fifteen minutes to get from his precinct office to her house, start the fire and call it in. I don't think it would've been enough time."
"There's one way to find out," Grissom stood up and started for the door.
"Where are you going?" Sara followed him out the door and towards the parking lot.
"To the victim's house."
"You're going by way of his precinct aren't you? You're going to time it to see if it's possible to get there in time." She opened the door to the Tahoe and climbed in beside him. "You not going without me."
"I didn't think you would let me go alone," Grissom looked over at Sara. She smiled and looked away as she pulled a strand of hair from her face.
****
"First National Bank."
"Huh, what?" Grissom's words had startled Sara. He had been silent since they left the crime lab parking lot.
"First National Bank," he repeated as he checked for traffic at a four way stop. "They have an ATM out front."
"Soooooo....., you need to stop on the way back or something?"
They pulled in the driveway at the crime scene and exited the Tahoe. "Twenty minutes," Grissom looked at his watch.
"Grissom....., the ATM, why is it so important?"
"There was a security camera out front pointed at the street. We just took the most direct route here, and it took twenty minutes driving the speed limit. If Henderson used the same route that just leaves him five minutes once he got here and since we can't prove if he was speeding or not, there just might be a picture of him going by with the time established."
"Do you ever miss anything Grissom?" she asked with a slight giggle.
"Hello." A voice came from behind them. They turned to see an elderly man of seventy-five walking a dog coming up the drive-way.
"Hello." He approached with a wide smile on his face and extended his hand to Grissom. "Jim Bishop, are you friends of Debra's?"
Grissom grasped his hand and noted his firm handshake. "Gil Grissom....., Sara Sidle, we're from the crime lab."
"Oh.....," the smile quickly dissappeared from his face and was replaced with sadness. "Such a terrible thing that happened. She seemed such a sweet girl."
"Did you know Debra well?" Sara stepped forward and took the man's hand.
"She hadn't lived here very long. We only spoke a few times. Lillian though spoke with her quite often."
"Lillian?"
"My wife," he turned and pointed towards his home down the street. "You should really talk to her."
****
Lillian smiled sweetly at them as they entered the front door. "Can I get you something to drink? Some iced tea perhaps? I just brewed it."
"No thank you," replied Sara. "We just need some information about Debra."
Lillian sat down on the flower print couch next Sara and put her hand on her knee. "I can't believe what I read in the paper about her. The terrible things some people are saying about her and all those men. Mr. Francis and that nice young officer were the only ones I knew about."
Sara and Grissom exchanged glances with her answer.
"Lillian, did you or Jim see or hear anything the night Debra was killed," Sara gently squeezed the woman's hand and looked at her face as she noticed a tear roll down her face.
"No, I wasn't feeling very well that night and had went to bed early." The tears began to flow more freely now, her husband sat next to her and took her in his arms.
"How about you Jim," she continued. "Did you see or hear anything?"
"I wish I had. I went to bed at 11:30. I was asleep until Coco woke me up." The small dog jumped in his lap.
"What time was that?" Grissom asked.
"It was after three. We walked down the street." He lighlty stroked Coco's head who was beginning to fall asleep.
"Did you smell any smoke while you were outside." Grissom hoped the elderly man could offer them more.
"No..., no, I didn't. The only thing that happened was we were almost run down by some sports car."
"A sports car? Can you describe it?"
"A red, late model Mustang. Had one just like it when I was younger." A look came over his face that suggested he was remembering driving the car.
Sara jumped from the couch and grabbed Grissom's arm. "There was a red Mustang parked out front when we were here the night of the fire."
"I think we should find out what Henderson drives." He turned towards the couple still sitting on the couch, "Jim..., Lillian, thank you.
****
"I got it." Warrick tossed the file on the table in front of Grissom. Inside was a copy ofan auto registration for one late model, red Mustang belonging to Brad Henderson and a photo from the bank security camera of the same car passing by, time stamped 3:10 A.M.
Grissom picked up the picture, "Hmmm, 3:10."
"Yea, I guess we can add speeding to the charge of murder." Warrick said matter of factly as he sat down across from Grissom.
"He had time." Sara burst through the door. "Dispatch records show he was unaccounted for between 11:30 and 12:30."
"Let's bring him in for questioning."
Was it possible he thought, had the killer been right in front of them all along. The very man who claimed to try and save Debra Farmer. He was the one who told them about Vince Francis, could this have been a ploy to throw them off, to set Francis up for the crime he committed. But so far we don't have any evidence to point directly to him or anyone else yet, all we have is two men, married men, who were having or had had an affair with the victim.
Sara walked in, "Grissom."
He didn't respond and continued deep in his thoughts........
There's something we're missing, some piece of evidence we haven't found.
Sara reached out a touched Grissom on the shoulder, "Grissom."
Startled more by her touch more than by the sound of her voice, Grissom looked up.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
He turned to face her, "That's okay."
"You're thinking about the case aren't you?"
"Am I that obvious?"
"You, obvious?" Sara smiled, "never."
Before Grissom could respond there was a tentative knock on the door, "Come in Greg," he sighed.
"Hi Sara," he almost couldn't contain himself as he handed Grissom the files he was carrying. "I'll think you'll find this interesting."
He fidgeted while Grissom read the contents. "Are you sure about these results?"
"You doubt me?" he started to say but as Grissom looked up from the results over his glasses he sheepishly replied, "I ran the tests twice."
"Good job Greg."
Greg left and shut the door behind him. "Yes, I rock!" he smiled and headed back to the lab.
"What'd we get?" Sara pulled a chair up to the desk.
"Some very interesting results. According to this, from the time the fire started to the time it was put out by the firefighters, couldn't have been more than thirty minutes. And the report from the first firefighters on the scene concur with Greg's tests of the burnt materials."
"Thirty minutes? The time of death was established as midnight. So that means.....what, some kind of timing device?" Sara leaned in for a closer look.
"Except we didn't find one."
"Then that would mean whoever did it killed her at midnight, then came back later to start the fire. So where do we go from here?" Sara said as she leaned back in her chair.
"Well, Vince Francis has an alibi, flimsy as we may think it is, it's still an alibi for now. So we start with the person who found her."
"Brad Henderson," Sara shook her head in disbelief. "He got off duty at 3 A.M. There couldn't have been enough time for him to get there and start the fire. Besides, he was on duty when she died."
"As to the question of time," Grissom searched through the reports on his desk, "his call reporting the fire was received at 3:25 A.M. and the fire was reported out at 3:45."
"That gives him only fifteen minutes to get from his precinct office to her house, start the fire and call it in. I don't think it would've been enough time."
"There's one way to find out," Grissom stood up and started for the door.
"Where are you going?" Sara followed him out the door and towards the parking lot.
"To the victim's house."
"You're going by way of his precinct aren't you? You're going to time it to see if it's possible to get there in time." She opened the door to the Tahoe and climbed in beside him. "You not going without me."
"I didn't think you would let me go alone," Grissom looked over at Sara. She smiled and looked away as she pulled a strand of hair from her face.
****
"First National Bank."
"Huh, what?" Grissom's words had startled Sara. He had been silent since they left the crime lab parking lot.
"First National Bank," he repeated as he checked for traffic at a four way stop. "They have an ATM out front."
"Soooooo....., you need to stop on the way back or something?"
They pulled in the driveway at the crime scene and exited the Tahoe. "Twenty minutes," Grissom looked at his watch.
"Grissom....., the ATM, why is it so important?"
"There was a security camera out front pointed at the street. We just took the most direct route here, and it took twenty minutes driving the speed limit. If Henderson used the same route that just leaves him five minutes once he got here and since we can't prove if he was speeding or not, there just might be a picture of him going by with the time established."
"Do you ever miss anything Grissom?" she asked with a slight giggle.
"Hello." A voice came from behind them. They turned to see an elderly man of seventy-five walking a dog coming up the drive-way.
"Hello." He approached with a wide smile on his face and extended his hand to Grissom. "Jim Bishop, are you friends of Debra's?"
Grissom grasped his hand and noted his firm handshake. "Gil Grissom....., Sara Sidle, we're from the crime lab."
"Oh.....," the smile quickly dissappeared from his face and was replaced with sadness. "Such a terrible thing that happened. She seemed such a sweet girl."
"Did you know Debra well?" Sara stepped forward and took the man's hand.
"She hadn't lived here very long. We only spoke a few times. Lillian though spoke with her quite often."
"Lillian?"
"My wife," he turned and pointed towards his home down the street. "You should really talk to her."
****
Lillian smiled sweetly at them as they entered the front door. "Can I get you something to drink? Some iced tea perhaps? I just brewed it."
"No thank you," replied Sara. "We just need some information about Debra."
Lillian sat down on the flower print couch next Sara and put her hand on her knee. "I can't believe what I read in the paper about her. The terrible things some people are saying about her and all those men. Mr. Francis and that nice young officer were the only ones I knew about."
Sara and Grissom exchanged glances with her answer.
"Lillian, did you or Jim see or hear anything the night Debra was killed," Sara gently squeezed the woman's hand and looked at her face as she noticed a tear roll down her face.
"No, I wasn't feeling very well that night and had went to bed early." The tears began to flow more freely now, her husband sat next to her and took her in his arms.
"How about you Jim," she continued. "Did you see or hear anything?"
"I wish I had. I went to bed at 11:30. I was asleep until Coco woke me up." The small dog jumped in his lap.
"What time was that?" Grissom asked.
"It was after three. We walked down the street." He lighlty stroked Coco's head who was beginning to fall asleep.
"Did you smell any smoke while you were outside." Grissom hoped the elderly man could offer them more.
"No..., no, I didn't. The only thing that happened was we were almost run down by some sports car."
"A sports car? Can you describe it?"
"A red, late model Mustang. Had one just like it when I was younger." A look came over his face that suggested he was remembering driving the car.
Sara jumped from the couch and grabbed Grissom's arm. "There was a red Mustang parked out front when we were here the night of the fire."
"I think we should find out what Henderson drives." He turned towards the couple still sitting on the couch, "Jim..., Lillian, thank you.
****
"I got it." Warrick tossed the file on the table in front of Grissom. Inside was a copy ofan auto registration for one late model, red Mustang belonging to Brad Henderson and a photo from the bank security camera of the same car passing by, time stamped 3:10 A.M.
Grissom picked up the picture, "Hmmm, 3:10."
"Yea, I guess we can add speeding to the charge of murder." Warrick said matter of factly as he sat down across from Grissom.
"He had time." Sara burst through the door. "Dispatch records show he was unaccounted for between 11:30 and 12:30."
"Let's bring him in for questioning."
