XIV - HANDS OF RIGHTEOUSNESS
"Excuse me?" A soft voice broke into Greg's thoughts as he stared at the computer, waiting to see if he could match any of the fingerprints from the three crimes.
"I'm looking for Dr. Robbins? Do you know where he might be?"
Greg turned from the screen, taking in the young woman standing in the door of his lab. She was petite - no more than 5' 3, with long brown hair and brown eyes. Cute - not stunningly gorgeous, but pretty in a unique way all her own. Greg smiled at her.
"I think he's probably down in autopsy. Follow me - I'll show you the way." He approached her and held out his hand. "I'm Greg."
"Hi Greg." Her handshake was firm, and Greg marveled at how such a tiny hand could hold such strength. "I'm Alli - Dr. Robbins niece."
"Is he expecting you?"
"Eventually - probably not today, though. I'm moving in with him and Aunt Judy and the girls until I find an apartment here, and it didn't take me as long to drive here from Buffalo as I thought it would." She smiled at him as they headed down the hallway.
"You're moving to Las Vegas?"
Alli nodded. "Yeah - I'm an art teacher, and I was hired to replace a teacher that's leaving Cook High School. I start next week."
"You're a teacher?" Greg looked at her askance. "You don't look old enough to be teaching high school kids."
"I'm 27 - it's the height. Makes me look like a little girl." Alli laughed. "I get that all the time."
They paused in front of the door leading into autopsy. "He's probably in here. Let me get him for you - who knows what he's working on in there." Greg smiled at her again. "Be right back." Stepping into autopsy, he shook his head to clear his thoughts. So, Dr. Robbins had a cute niece - huh. Big deal. Greg wasn't interested - he had too many other things to worry about. Besides, who would want him anyway - not even two weeks out of heart surgery. Frowning to himself, he walked over to Dr. Robbins. As Greg had suspected, Robbins was in the middle of an autopsy.
"Hey Doc. That one of ours?"
"No - day shift. Drug overdose." Robbins looked up from the body, and smiled at Greg. "What can I do for you, Greg?"
"You have a visitor. I left her in the hallway. She says she's your niece - Alli."
Robbins grinned. "She's early! I wonder how here drive was? Listen, will you take her to the break room for me? I'll just clean up here."
Greg nodded. "I can do that - but don't be long. Grissom has me trying to match prints, and he wants it done ASAP." He paused for a second. "Why don't I take her back to the lab? That way, I can still work while she waits."
Robbins nodded his agreement, and Greg walked from the autopsy room. "He just wants to clean up. Why don't you come back to the lab with me, and he'll meet you there?"
"Sure." They started walking back down the hallway, chatting amiably about Las Vegas and Alli's new job. Once back in the lab, Greg quickly grabbed a couple of the footprints from the various crime scenes and started comparing.
"So, what do you do, Greg?" Alli was sitting on a rotating stool, looking around the lab with interest.
"I'm a lab tech here. Have a B.S. in chemistry." Greg responded. He was trying not to allow himself to get to drawn in by Alli's charming smile, and was keeping his reponses brief.
"Wow! That's great. I sucked at chemistry. My lab partner and I managed to blow up a bunsen burner in high school once." She grinned at him. "So, what are you doing right now?"
"I'm trying to match prints from several different crime scenes. We think there's a tie to them all, and we're trying to prove that the same people were involved. Right now, I have our system comparing the fingerprints we took, and I'm doing a manual scan on the footprints."
A prolonged silence fell, and Greg looked up when he heard Alli sigh. "What?"
"I can wait somewhere else, if you want. You don't need to keep me entertained."
Greg immediately felt guilty. "Sorry - I'm just not feeling too talkative right now." He grinned suddenly at Alli. "So, you're an art teacher. Does that mean you're an artist?"
Alli shrugged. "I paint - mostly oils. I really love sculpting - I've done some bronzes. Teaching just pays the bills until I can strike out on my own as an artist." Alli was studying Greg intently as he worked. When she had first spotted him in the lab, and he had turned the full force of his grin on her, she had felt an immediate attraction to him. The feelings of attraction hadn't dissipated in the few moments they had so far spent together. Alli was debating asking him to show her around Las Vegas when Uncle Al walked in.
"Alli! How's my girl?"
"Uncle Al!" She launched himself into his arms, feeling the familiar comfort of his big hug envelope her.
"You're early, sweetheart. We weren't expecting you until sometime tomorrow!"
"I couldn't wait. I woke up this morning at 3:00, and knew I wouldn't sleep anymore so I started driving, and here I am!"
Dr. Robbins slung an arm affectionately over the young girls shoulder, squeezing it. "And I see you met Greg here. I hope he's been keeping you entertained."
Greg looked uncomfortably at the footprints on the table and shrugged self- consciously. "I was trying."
Dr. Robbins grinned at his niece again. "I called Aunt Judy to tell her you were here - she's so happy you've arrived safely, and she's coming down to meet you. You can follow her home and get settled. Tomorrow, she's planning a barbeque in your honor." He looked at Greg. "I've been told to invite everyone - so Greg, consider yourself invited. I've got to go hunt up Grissom and the rest of them. I hope you can all make it. Come with me, sweetheart - I'll give you a tour while we wait for Judy."
* * * * *
Warrick was sitting at Grissom's desk, computer open, searching the archives of the local newspapers on-line. He had found several articles pertaining to the permit dispute between the commune and the city, and was just downloading the files now. In Catherine's office, Warrick knew Nick was doing the same thing - pulling up letters to the editor and any other archived story he could find pertaining to threats or hate crimes in the last year or so in the Las Vegas area.
Sighing in disgust, he pushed himself away from the computer, staring blankly at the door way in front of him. Sometimes he wondered if his job meant anything. Most of the time, he loved it. The thrill of following the evidence until they could piece together a crime and put criminals in jail - well, the feeling was wonderful, knowing he'd helped the victims of violent crime find justice.
He thought back to what his Grams had told him earlier that day, about forgiveness, and he thought about Delia. Tomorrow would be twelve years since her murder, in a foreign country, away from the people that loved her. She had died surrounded by strangers, and in the uproar that followed the man who had shot her had disappeared. For months after her murder, there had been no closure for him or his grandmother, just the constant aching pain of loss.
When they had finally been called by the South African embassy and informed that Delia's killer had been caught and was awaiting trial, it had been one of the happiest days of his life. That feeling of euphoria - of absolute closure - had been what prompted him into becoming a CSI. He wanted to bring the same happiness and closure to the families of the victims he processed, and sometimes he was able to.
He sighed as the downloads finished, quickly hitting print. When he closed his eyes, he could see Delia's face as clearly as his own - her bright happy grin, her big brown eyes. She had been such a beautiful girl. He hoped that she hadn't been scared when she had died. He hoped it had been quick and painless. He thought of Scott King and Megan Carmichael - two young kids murdered in the desert, and he knew they had suffered. He just hoped they would catch the bastards who had killed them before they struck again.
* * * * *
Sara strode into the lab, her boots taping loudly on the linoleum as she walked over to Greg and peered over his shoulder.
"Hey Greggo! What's up? Find anything?"
Greg slid a couple of footprints her way. "I've found matching footprints from Magikal and the desert murders." He grinned at Sara's soft whoop.
"Conclusive match?"
Greg nodded. "Same boot - Kodiak's, size 11 ½ . We've got a clear print from Magikal - left boot, and a clear partial left and full right boot print from the desert. I've also found two comparable fingerprints from Lifestyles and the car at the last crime scene - plus a palm print from the car that matches a palm print you pulled at Magikal. These cases are definitely tied together."
Sara smiled. "Good work, Greg! Grissom'll be thrilled." She leaned into him, giving him a quick hug. "We're not working you too hard, are we?"
"No way. This is easy stuff. I wish I could go out to a crime scene with you. Did you find anything?"
"Nick's pulled a ton of stuff off the net - several letters to the editor from a 'Brother Enoch' writing about the general degradation of God's law, and railing against the proliferation and acceptance of the homosexual lifestyle in Las Vegas - among other choice complaints." Sara grimaced in distaste and shook her head. "Grissom is talking to Brass, but he wants us to meet in the layout room in five minutes, just to update."
Greg nodded. "Sure thing. Let me just pull this together."
Sara walked to the door and paused. "What did you think of Dr. Robbins niece?"
Greg shrugged. "Seems nice enough."
"She's cute. She mentioned she met you." Sara's tone was teasing. "I think she might like you."
Greg shot her an irritated look. "I doubt it."
Sara looked taken aback at his surly tone. "Why do you doubt it?"
"She doesn't know me."
"Maybe she'll get to know you better at Dr. Robbins tomorrow. The barbeque sounds fun."
Nick just shrugged. "Maybe."
* * * * *
Brass and Grissom were already in the layout room when the rest of the team started drifting in. Nick had a small file of computer printouts in his hand, and he grinned at Greg when the young lab tech sat down beside him.
"Greggo! Leave it to you to meet all the cute girls first." His tone was teasing, but the smile quickly left his face when Greg just glared at him. "What? What did I say?" Greg ignored him, and turned to face Grissom.
Catherine and Sara walked in together, smiling about something, quickly followed by Warrick, who strode in like Mr. Cool, smiling at Grissom as he took his seat.
"Okay, people. What do we know. Greg - you go first."
Greg quickly filled everyone in on the matching palm prints and foot prints, conclusively tying the three crime scenes together. Grissom was rubbing his hands, nodding his head as Greg finished.
"Good - good. That's important - Mobley will be happy we've got that far, at least. Nick, what about you?"
"I've got several letters to the editor, pulled from various local papers. There's at least four from a man calling himself 'Brother Enoch'. The letters are basically diatribes against 'Sin City' - he complains about the proliferation of gay bars, the general lack of God's true religion within the city. There's also some letters by other people regarding the same basic things." Nick looked at everyone and grinned. "I called the papers in question, and got an address for Enoch and the other letters that struck me as over the top. They all live at commune."
Grissom cocked an eyebrow at that. "Interesting. Warrick?"
"Not much information in the papers on the commune, other than they built without proper permits, and were charged a hefty fine. But I did find some interesting pictures." He slid the file he had been folding across to Grissom, his expression grim.
"There were over 25 people living there last spring when this was all going down. The people not directly involved in the court case would sit outside the courthouse and protest. They call themselves the Hands of Righteousness. If you look at the top picture, you might recognize the guy I've circled."
Grissom looked at picture, before quickly passing it to Catherine. "It's the unknown victim from Lifestyles."
Brass was looking at the photo now, shaking his head. "Isn't this interesting? Okay - so, I guess I'll get to work on warrants."
Grissom nodded. "See if we can get permission to bring them all in for questioning."
______
Author's notes: Okay - things are percolating along nicely. I hope you are all finding this case interesting - FYI - the two murders in the desert are loosely based on a couple of murders that happened over 15 years ago in Germany. Please R & R - let me know what you think.
"Excuse me?" A soft voice broke into Greg's thoughts as he stared at the computer, waiting to see if he could match any of the fingerprints from the three crimes.
"I'm looking for Dr. Robbins? Do you know where he might be?"
Greg turned from the screen, taking in the young woman standing in the door of his lab. She was petite - no more than 5' 3, with long brown hair and brown eyes. Cute - not stunningly gorgeous, but pretty in a unique way all her own. Greg smiled at her.
"I think he's probably down in autopsy. Follow me - I'll show you the way." He approached her and held out his hand. "I'm Greg."
"Hi Greg." Her handshake was firm, and Greg marveled at how such a tiny hand could hold such strength. "I'm Alli - Dr. Robbins niece."
"Is he expecting you?"
"Eventually - probably not today, though. I'm moving in with him and Aunt Judy and the girls until I find an apartment here, and it didn't take me as long to drive here from Buffalo as I thought it would." She smiled at him as they headed down the hallway.
"You're moving to Las Vegas?"
Alli nodded. "Yeah - I'm an art teacher, and I was hired to replace a teacher that's leaving Cook High School. I start next week."
"You're a teacher?" Greg looked at her askance. "You don't look old enough to be teaching high school kids."
"I'm 27 - it's the height. Makes me look like a little girl." Alli laughed. "I get that all the time."
They paused in front of the door leading into autopsy. "He's probably in here. Let me get him for you - who knows what he's working on in there." Greg smiled at her again. "Be right back." Stepping into autopsy, he shook his head to clear his thoughts. So, Dr. Robbins had a cute niece - huh. Big deal. Greg wasn't interested - he had too many other things to worry about. Besides, who would want him anyway - not even two weeks out of heart surgery. Frowning to himself, he walked over to Dr. Robbins. As Greg had suspected, Robbins was in the middle of an autopsy.
"Hey Doc. That one of ours?"
"No - day shift. Drug overdose." Robbins looked up from the body, and smiled at Greg. "What can I do for you, Greg?"
"You have a visitor. I left her in the hallway. She says she's your niece - Alli."
Robbins grinned. "She's early! I wonder how here drive was? Listen, will you take her to the break room for me? I'll just clean up here."
Greg nodded. "I can do that - but don't be long. Grissom has me trying to match prints, and he wants it done ASAP." He paused for a second. "Why don't I take her back to the lab? That way, I can still work while she waits."
Robbins nodded his agreement, and Greg walked from the autopsy room. "He just wants to clean up. Why don't you come back to the lab with me, and he'll meet you there?"
"Sure." They started walking back down the hallway, chatting amiably about Las Vegas and Alli's new job. Once back in the lab, Greg quickly grabbed a couple of the footprints from the various crime scenes and started comparing.
"So, what do you do, Greg?" Alli was sitting on a rotating stool, looking around the lab with interest.
"I'm a lab tech here. Have a B.S. in chemistry." Greg responded. He was trying not to allow himself to get to drawn in by Alli's charming smile, and was keeping his reponses brief.
"Wow! That's great. I sucked at chemistry. My lab partner and I managed to blow up a bunsen burner in high school once." She grinned at him. "So, what are you doing right now?"
"I'm trying to match prints from several different crime scenes. We think there's a tie to them all, and we're trying to prove that the same people were involved. Right now, I have our system comparing the fingerprints we took, and I'm doing a manual scan on the footprints."
A prolonged silence fell, and Greg looked up when he heard Alli sigh. "What?"
"I can wait somewhere else, if you want. You don't need to keep me entertained."
Greg immediately felt guilty. "Sorry - I'm just not feeling too talkative right now." He grinned suddenly at Alli. "So, you're an art teacher. Does that mean you're an artist?"
Alli shrugged. "I paint - mostly oils. I really love sculpting - I've done some bronzes. Teaching just pays the bills until I can strike out on my own as an artist." Alli was studying Greg intently as he worked. When she had first spotted him in the lab, and he had turned the full force of his grin on her, she had felt an immediate attraction to him. The feelings of attraction hadn't dissipated in the few moments they had so far spent together. Alli was debating asking him to show her around Las Vegas when Uncle Al walked in.
"Alli! How's my girl?"
"Uncle Al!" She launched himself into his arms, feeling the familiar comfort of his big hug envelope her.
"You're early, sweetheart. We weren't expecting you until sometime tomorrow!"
"I couldn't wait. I woke up this morning at 3:00, and knew I wouldn't sleep anymore so I started driving, and here I am!"
Dr. Robbins slung an arm affectionately over the young girls shoulder, squeezing it. "And I see you met Greg here. I hope he's been keeping you entertained."
Greg looked uncomfortably at the footprints on the table and shrugged self- consciously. "I was trying."
Dr. Robbins grinned at his niece again. "I called Aunt Judy to tell her you were here - she's so happy you've arrived safely, and she's coming down to meet you. You can follow her home and get settled. Tomorrow, she's planning a barbeque in your honor." He looked at Greg. "I've been told to invite everyone - so Greg, consider yourself invited. I've got to go hunt up Grissom and the rest of them. I hope you can all make it. Come with me, sweetheart - I'll give you a tour while we wait for Judy."
* * * * *
Warrick was sitting at Grissom's desk, computer open, searching the archives of the local newspapers on-line. He had found several articles pertaining to the permit dispute between the commune and the city, and was just downloading the files now. In Catherine's office, Warrick knew Nick was doing the same thing - pulling up letters to the editor and any other archived story he could find pertaining to threats or hate crimes in the last year or so in the Las Vegas area.
Sighing in disgust, he pushed himself away from the computer, staring blankly at the door way in front of him. Sometimes he wondered if his job meant anything. Most of the time, he loved it. The thrill of following the evidence until they could piece together a crime and put criminals in jail - well, the feeling was wonderful, knowing he'd helped the victims of violent crime find justice.
He thought back to what his Grams had told him earlier that day, about forgiveness, and he thought about Delia. Tomorrow would be twelve years since her murder, in a foreign country, away from the people that loved her. She had died surrounded by strangers, and in the uproar that followed the man who had shot her had disappeared. For months after her murder, there had been no closure for him or his grandmother, just the constant aching pain of loss.
When they had finally been called by the South African embassy and informed that Delia's killer had been caught and was awaiting trial, it had been one of the happiest days of his life. That feeling of euphoria - of absolute closure - had been what prompted him into becoming a CSI. He wanted to bring the same happiness and closure to the families of the victims he processed, and sometimes he was able to.
He sighed as the downloads finished, quickly hitting print. When he closed his eyes, he could see Delia's face as clearly as his own - her bright happy grin, her big brown eyes. She had been such a beautiful girl. He hoped that she hadn't been scared when she had died. He hoped it had been quick and painless. He thought of Scott King and Megan Carmichael - two young kids murdered in the desert, and he knew they had suffered. He just hoped they would catch the bastards who had killed them before they struck again.
* * * * *
Sara strode into the lab, her boots taping loudly on the linoleum as she walked over to Greg and peered over his shoulder.
"Hey Greggo! What's up? Find anything?"
Greg slid a couple of footprints her way. "I've found matching footprints from Magikal and the desert murders." He grinned at Sara's soft whoop.
"Conclusive match?"
Greg nodded. "Same boot - Kodiak's, size 11 ½ . We've got a clear print from Magikal - left boot, and a clear partial left and full right boot print from the desert. I've also found two comparable fingerprints from Lifestyles and the car at the last crime scene - plus a palm print from the car that matches a palm print you pulled at Magikal. These cases are definitely tied together."
Sara smiled. "Good work, Greg! Grissom'll be thrilled." She leaned into him, giving him a quick hug. "We're not working you too hard, are we?"
"No way. This is easy stuff. I wish I could go out to a crime scene with you. Did you find anything?"
"Nick's pulled a ton of stuff off the net - several letters to the editor from a 'Brother Enoch' writing about the general degradation of God's law, and railing against the proliferation and acceptance of the homosexual lifestyle in Las Vegas - among other choice complaints." Sara grimaced in distaste and shook her head. "Grissom is talking to Brass, but he wants us to meet in the layout room in five minutes, just to update."
Greg nodded. "Sure thing. Let me just pull this together."
Sara walked to the door and paused. "What did you think of Dr. Robbins niece?"
Greg shrugged. "Seems nice enough."
"She's cute. She mentioned she met you." Sara's tone was teasing. "I think she might like you."
Greg shot her an irritated look. "I doubt it."
Sara looked taken aback at his surly tone. "Why do you doubt it?"
"She doesn't know me."
"Maybe she'll get to know you better at Dr. Robbins tomorrow. The barbeque sounds fun."
Nick just shrugged. "Maybe."
* * * * *
Brass and Grissom were already in the layout room when the rest of the team started drifting in. Nick had a small file of computer printouts in his hand, and he grinned at Greg when the young lab tech sat down beside him.
"Greggo! Leave it to you to meet all the cute girls first." His tone was teasing, but the smile quickly left his face when Greg just glared at him. "What? What did I say?" Greg ignored him, and turned to face Grissom.
Catherine and Sara walked in together, smiling about something, quickly followed by Warrick, who strode in like Mr. Cool, smiling at Grissom as he took his seat.
"Okay, people. What do we know. Greg - you go first."
Greg quickly filled everyone in on the matching palm prints and foot prints, conclusively tying the three crime scenes together. Grissom was rubbing his hands, nodding his head as Greg finished.
"Good - good. That's important - Mobley will be happy we've got that far, at least. Nick, what about you?"
"I've got several letters to the editor, pulled from various local papers. There's at least four from a man calling himself 'Brother Enoch'. The letters are basically diatribes against 'Sin City' - he complains about the proliferation of gay bars, the general lack of God's true religion within the city. There's also some letters by other people regarding the same basic things." Nick looked at everyone and grinned. "I called the papers in question, and got an address for Enoch and the other letters that struck me as over the top. They all live at commune."
Grissom cocked an eyebrow at that. "Interesting. Warrick?"
"Not much information in the papers on the commune, other than they built without proper permits, and were charged a hefty fine. But I did find some interesting pictures." He slid the file he had been folding across to Grissom, his expression grim.
"There were over 25 people living there last spring when this was all going down. The people not directly involved in the court case would sit outside the courthouse and protest. They call themselves the Hands of Righteousness. If you look at the top picture, you might recognize the guy I've circled."
Grissom looked at picture, before quickly passing it to Catherine. "It's the unknown victim from Lifestyles."
Brass was looking at the photo now, shaking his head. "Isn't this interesting? Okay - so, I guess I'll get to work on warrants."
Grissom nodded. "See if we can get permission to bring them all in for questioning."
______
Author's notes: Okay - things are percolating along nicely. I hope you are all finding this case interesting - FYI - the two murders in the desert are loosely based on a couple of murders that happened over 15 years ago in Germany. Please R & R - let me know what you think.