XXV - CLOSING IN
"Doesn't this constitute harassment?" Enoch was staring grimly at Grissom and Brass, beefy arms crossed, a huge scowl on his face. He was glaring at the warrants in Brass' hand almost as if he expected them to disappear in a puff of smoke. Behind Brass, O'Reilly pointedly shifted his bulk, and he shot a look at the other officers arrayed behind him.
"The judge who signed these warrants didn't seem to think so," Brass responded, expression neutral, "but you can always take it up with your lawyer when we finally arrest your ass."
Enoch grinned at this. "Arrest me? For what - I am merely a messenger. I don't control the people who live here."
"You tell them who to hate," Grissom's tone was sour. "You target the groups they go after with your pamphlets and your preachings."
"I target no one. I only show them what's clearly stated in the Bible. You ever hear about Sodom and Gomorrah?"
"You ever hear that Jesus said to 'Love one another'?" Grissom responded.
Enoch shrugged, "I cannot love what God clearly states is wrong. My people may have acted inappropriately in the eyes of the law; God's law is different. The people who died were sinners."
"We're all sinners - such is the nature of man. I know you're not without sin, Mr. Winters, so I'm surprised you can justify throwing stones. Besides which, doesn't God state 'Vengeance is mine?'"
Enoch smiled condescendingly at Grissom. "Who's to say what form God's vengeance will take?"
Grissom merely cocked an eyebrow at him, "Listen, Mr. Winters - I'm not going to get into a big theological debate with you. I'm a criminalist, not a preacher. But I do know this - if God would send his son here in order to cleanse humanity of our sins, I sincerely doubt he would turn around 2000 years later and appoint a man like you to act as his arbiter of justice. I would suggest you go back and read the New Testament - especially Jesus' teachings - the ones about love, and forgiveness. And then read the Ten Commandments again - and tell me where, in all that, you can justify murder."
* * * * *
"This is where the window was," Nick stated the obvious, smiling when Warrick snorted at him and rolled his eyes. "What - just talking it out, man. So, window here. First shot came from the outside, 14 ½ inches up, 16 ½ inches in from the right side. Second shot goes out 22 ¾ inches up from the bottom, at a 40 degree angle and 2 ½ feet in from the left side -" as he talked, he quickly measured the distances, marking the spots in black market against the plastic covering the hole where the glass once stood, "right here."
He smiled at the satisfying whir the measuring tape made as he released it, tucking into his pocket after it had closed. Warrick was eyeballing the area indicated, flashlight refracting eerily against the plastic. "I know this isn't a busy area - no casinos or shopping, just this place and a coffee shop down the street, and I know the crime took place later in the evening, but no one heard anything? No one saw anything? I find that hard to believe."
The men did a quick scan of the interior of the room, grimacing in distaste at the bloodstains still covering the floor, the words painted on the wall. "The initial bullet coming in would have ended up over here - and yes, this looks like a bullet hole in the wall."
Warrick nodded, "Bullet is gone. Must have been retrieved already by Sara and Grissom - we'll check the crime scene photos when we get back to the lab. Care to step outside?"
Nick nodded grimly. Together, they quickly found the marker indications on the plastic, turning to look into the street, flashlights shining at a slight upward angle, across two lanes of a one-way road, into the brick of an old brownstone that had recently been converted into a clothing boutique. "Assuming there was nothing here to obstruct the bullet; it would have ended up in the wall there."
He held his flashlight steady as Warrick crossed the road, inspecting the area illuminated by Nick's light. After a few moments of study, he flashed Nick a thumbs up sign, "Found it man. Right in the wall. It's gonna be pretty trashed, but ballistics can do amazing things. Just linking it to the type of guns we know were used is one more pro for the case."
Nick joined Warrick, grinning, "The more t's we cross man, the happier I am."
* * * * *
Grissom had sent Sara and Catherine to get the DNA samples from the rest of the ladies at the commune, and he and Brass were in the back on the barn, in the slaughter house with Officer Langdon. Brass had O'Reilly establish his officers around the perimeter of the barn to keep curious or angry residents from intruding, and O'Reilly was now standing just off to the side, Enoch stewing beside him.
Grissom was carefully boxing several blades when his cell phone rang. The shrillness of it in the relative silence of the room made them all jump.
"Grissom."
He smiled slightly when he heard Greg's voice on the other end, "You have something for me Greg?" He listened intently, nodding as he turned and smiled at Brass. Greg had found something, alright.
"You're sure? DNA confirms all this - everything matches. Great - good job, Greg. Good job."
"You sounded pleased," Brass remarked as Grissom hung up, "what did you get?"
"Greg was running some tests on blood found soaked in the dirt that was caked in shoes we can link to the desert crime scene. He found three different blood types - the blood of our victims, and pig blood. The pig blood is a perfect match for the pig blood used at Lifestyles - Greg ran the DNA - sow blood. And the shoes belong to the commune's resident butcher, Brother Michael."
Brass smiled at this announcement, and turned to face Enoch. "I saw some piglets in the barn when we walked through it earlier, but no mother. We'll make sure to take blood samples before we leave - just in case the blood from our slaughtered pig can be linked through her progeny."
* * * * *
Catherine and Sara had set up a small lab of sorts in the kitchen, and two of the officers that had arrived with O'Reilly had gone to the trouble of gathering the women and the few remaining men just outside. One at a time, Officer Green - fresh to the force - would lead someone into the kitchen. Sara would take their information, ignoring the scowls and sarcastic remarks, and Catherine would swab them. In short order, they were finished.
"That went remarkably smoothly," Catherine remarked to Sara as she loaded the last of her swabs into her field kit. "I don't know why I was expecting otherwise, but this place gives me the creeps."
Sara grinned at the older woman, "I know what you mean. So - what now? Did Grissom want us to take these back to the lab, or shall we join him and Brass?"
Catherine grimaced, "They're in the slaughter house - you really want to join them?"
"Right. Let's call Grissom, and see what he wants us to do."
* * * * *
"I heard Brass was going to be taking Katie and Nancy to a safe house," Nick cast a sideways glance at Warrick as they climbed into the Tahoe. Warrick didn't respond. "C'mon, man. Comment."
"What do you want me to say? They'll be leaving tomorrow."
"Do they know yet?" Nick sounded concerned, and Warrick smiled slightly.
"You care about everyone, don't you man. Katie knows a safe house is in her future - she just doesn't know when. I want to tell her personally."
"Understandable. So - how do you think Nancy's going to react?"
"I don't know. Not good," Warrick frowned as he drove, thinking of the young girl. "She's already told me she wants to stay with me forever."
"Would that be so bad?" Nick grinned. "She's a cute kid with a cute sister - both of whom obviously like you. You like them - so what's the big deal?"
Warrick shrugged. "Not my idea to send them away - Grissom's. He thinks my integrity will be compromised on the case if they're staying with me, and he wants to prevent problems come court time. He's right, of course. Any lawyer with half a brain could twist Katie and Nancy staying with me, and use it to taint the evidence we've collected."
"Never looked at it that way," Nick sighed. "That would be a problem."
The two men drove in silence for a few moments, before Nick pulled out his cell phone. "I'll call Gris and let him know what we found. I don't think there's a big rush to get this to ballistics - Grissom may want us to join them at the commune."
Warrick frowned, "Just what I want to do. That place is like Disney World to me." His tone was very dry, and Nick grinned at him in commiseration.
"Maybe Gris will just tell us to go back to the lab."
Warrick rolled his eyes at Nick, "and if you believe that, I got some nice swamp land in Florida to sell you."
* * * * *
Doctor Robbins watched Greg thoughtfully as he pushed himself around the lab on his wheeled stool. The young man seemed almost back to his old self - he even had some god awful music playing in the lab, and two times in the last four minutes he had actually played air drums. Robbins wondered how much of this was natural youthful exuberance and Greg bouncing back from his near miss; half wondered how much of it was because of Alli. One thing for certain, he couldn't stand in the hallway watching Greg forever.
"Greg!"
Greg spun towards Robbins upon hearing his name, a slightly trepidatious smile on his face.
"Dr. Robbins! What can I do for you?" He turned down the small CD player until the music was just an underlying hum, and pushed his legs lightly against a filing cabinet, shooting himself across the room. Robbins couldn't help comparing this visit to Greg's lab to his last one, when the young man had been so startled his defibrillator had kicked in.
"You're looking better."
Greg nodded, "Feeling better. I'm starting to believe what everyone else keeps telling me - I will survive."
Robbins nodded, "No one ever said it would be easy, but you seem happier. Alli told me she's renting your apartment?"
"Uh - yeah. I hope you don't mind," Greg was suddenly flustered, "She told me you weren't too happy about it."
Robbins sighed, "Nothing against you, Greg, but she just got here. I was hoping we'd have her with us for a while longer yet. But I understand why she wants a place of her own - we really don't have enough room and she needs her space."
"She wants to get Goliath out of the garage."
"That too," Robbins smiled at the young man. "She told me what you're charging her. You could get more than that from someone else if you looked around."
Greg waved his hand, "I don't want to look around. Besides which, she's giving me one of her paintings, so I think it's a fair trade."
"What happens when you get the go ahead to move back to your place? What does she do then?"
"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."
Robbins sighed, "Fair enough. I think you're a good guy, Greg. But I would be remiss in my duties as an uncle if I didn't warn you not to trifle with her. You're the first person she met here, so she might be feeling comfortable with you - don't take advantage."
Greg could feel his face heat, but he smiled at Robbins with genuine understanding, "I respect you too much to try to uh - screw around with you niece."
"She likes you, you know. I know the signs."
"I like her."
"Okay." Robbins sighed, "Try not to hurt her - my wife and sister-in-law would kill me."
"And who's going to warn her not to hurt me?" Greg whispered, half to himself, not really expecting an answer.
"I've already told her Greg," Robbins smiled at the young man's shocked expression, "and you're right to be worried. If she's anything like my wife and her sister, you're won't know what hit you until it's too late."
___________
Author's Notes: Okay - I had three chapters almost completely finished, just minor tweaking, and I somehow managed to delete them or lose them or something. So, sorry this is a day later than originally planned, but what's a girl to do? I can't write 24/7. Hope you all like this chapter.
"Doesn't this constitute harassment?" Enoch was staring grimly at Grissom and Brass, beefy arms crossed, a huge scowl on his face. He was glaring at the warrants in Brass' hand almost as if he expected them to disappear in a puff of smoke. Behind Brass, O'Reilly pointedly shifted his bulk, and he shot a look at the other officers arrayed behind him.
"The judge who signed these warrants didn't seem to think so," Brass responded, expression neutral, "but you can always take it up with your lawyer when we finally arrest your ass."
Enoch grinned at this. "Arrest me? For what - I am merely a messenger. I don't control the people who live here."
"You tell them who to hate," Grissom's tone was sour. "You target the groups they go after with your pamphlets and your preachings."
"I target no one. I only show them what's clearly stated in the Bible. You ever hear about Sodom and Gomorrah?"
"You ever hear that Jesus said to 'Love one another'?" Grissom responded.
Enoch shrugged, "I cannot love what God clearly states is wrong. My people may have acted inappropriately in the eyes of the law; God's law is different. The people who died were sinners."
"We're all sinners - such is the nature of man. I know you're not without sin, Mr. Winters, so I'm surprised you can justify throwing stones. Besides which, doesn't God state 'Vengeance is mine?'"
Enoch smiled condescendingly at Grissom. "Who's to say what form God's vengeance will take?"
Grissom merely cocked an eyebrow at him, "Listen, Mr. Winters - I'm not going to get into a big theological debate with you. I'm a criminalist, not a preacher. But I do know this - if God would send his son here in order to cleanse humanity of our sins, I sincerely doubt he would turn around 2000 years later and appoint a man like you to act as his arbiter of justice. I would suggest you go back and read the New Testament - especially Jesus' teachings - the ones about love, and forgiveness. And then read the Ten Commandments again - and tell me where, in all that, you can justify murder."
* * * * *
"This is where the window was," Nick stated the obvious, smiling when Warrick snorted at him and rolled his eyes. "What - just talking it out, man. So, window here. First shot came from the outside, 14 ½ inches up, 16 ½ inches in from the right side. Second shot goes out 22 ¾ inches up from the bottom, at a 40 degree angle and 2 ½ feet in from the left side -" as he talked, he quickly measured the distances, marking the spots in black market against the plastic covering the hole where the glass once stood, "right here."
He smiled at the satisfying whir the measuring tape made as he released it, tucking into his pocket after it had closed. Warrick was eyeballing the area indicated, flashlight refracting eerily against the plastic. "I know this isn't a busy area - no casinos or shopping, just this place and a coffee shop down the street, and I know the crime took place later in the evening, but no one heard anything? No one saw anything? I find that hard to believe."
The men did a quick scan of the interior of the room, grimacing in distaste at the bloodstains still covering the floor, the words painted on the wall. "The initial bullet coming in would have ended up over here - and yes, this looks like a bullet hole in the wall."
Warrick nodded, "Bullet is gone. Must have been retrieved already by Sara and Grissom - we'll check the crime scene photos when we get back to the lab. Care to step outside?"
Nick nodded grimly. Together, they quickly found the marker indications on the plastic, turning to look into the street, flashlights shining at a slight upward angle, across two lanes of a one-way road, into the brick of an old brownstone that had recently been converted into a clothing boutique. "Assuming there was nothing here to obstruct the bullet; it would have ended up in the wall there."
He held his flashlight steady as Warrick crossed the road, inspecting the area illuminated by Nick's light. After a few moments of study, he flashed Nick a thumbs up sign, "Found it man. Right in the wall. It's gonna be pretty trashed, but ballistics can do amazing things. Just linking it to the type of guns we know were used is one more pro for the case."
Nick joined Warrick, grinning, "The more t's we cross man, the happier I am."
* * * * *
Grissom had sent Sara and Catherine to get the DNA samples from the rest of the ladies at the commune, and he and Brass were in the back on the barn, in the slaughter house with Officer Langdon. Brass had O'Reilly establish his officers around the perimeter of the barn to keep curious or angry residents from intruding, and O'Reilly was now standing just off to the side, Enoch stewing beside him.
Grissom was carefully boxing several blades when his cell phone rang. The shrillness of it in the relative silence of the room made them all jump.
"Grissom."
He smiled slightly when he heard Greg's voice on the other end, "You have something for me Greg?" He listened intently, nodding as he turned and smiled at Brass. Greg had found something, alright.
"You're sure? DNA confirms all this - everything matches. Great - good job, Greg. Good job."
"You sounded pleased," Brass remarked as Grissom hung up, "what did you get?"
"Greg was running some tests on blood found soaked in the dirt that was caked in shoes we can link to the desert crime scene. He found three different blood types - the blood of our victims, and pig blood. The pig blood is a perfect match for the pig blood used at Lifestyles - Greg ran the DNA - sow blood. And the shoes belong to the commune's resident butcher, Brother Michael."
Brass smiled at this announcement, and turned to face Enoch. "I saw some piglets in the barn when we walked through it earlier, but no mother. We'll make sure to take blood samples before we leave - just in case the blood from our slaughtered pig can be linked through her progeny."
* * * * *
Catherine and Sara had set up a small lab of sorts in the kitchen, and two of the officers that had arrived with O'Reilly had gone to the trouble of gathering the women and the few remaining men just outside. One at a time, Officer Green - fresh to the force - would lead someone into the kitchen. Sara would take their information, ignoring the scowls and sarcastic remarks, and Catherine would swab them. In short order, they were finished.
"That went remarkably smoothly," Catherine remarked to Sara as she loaded the last of her swabs into her field kit. "I don't know why I was expecting otherwise, but this place gives me the creeps."
Sara grinned at the older woman, "I know what you mean. So - what now? Did Grissom want us to take these back to the lab, or shall we join him and Brass?"
Catherine grimaced, "They're in the slaughter house - you really want to join them?"
"Right. Let's call Grissom, and see what he wants us to do."
* * * * *
"I heard Brass was going to be taking Katie and Nancy to a safe house," Nick cast a sideways glance at Warrick as they climbed into the Tahoe. Warrick didn't respond. "C'mon, man. Comment."
"What do you want me to say? They'll be leaving tomorrow."
"Do they know yet?" Nick sounded concerned, and Warrick smiled slightly.
"You care about everyone, don't you man. Katie knows a safe house is in her future - she just doesn't know when. I want to tell her personally."
"Understandable. So - how do you think Nancy's going to react?"
"I don't know. Not good," Warrick frowned as he drove, thinking of the young girl. "She's already told me she wants to stay with me forever."
"Would that be so bad?" Nick grinned. "She's a cute kid with a cute sister - both of whom obviously like you. You like them - so what's the big deal?"
Warrick shrugged. "Not my idea to send them away - Grissom's. He thinks my integrity will be compromised on the case if they're staying with me, and he wants to prevent problems come court time. He's right, of course. Any lawyer with half a brain could twist Katie and Nancy staying with me, and use it to taint the evidence we've collected."
"Never looked at it that way," Nick sighed. "That would be a problem."
The two men drove in silence for a few moments, before Nick pulled out his cell phone. "I'll call Gris and let him know what we found. I don't think there's a big rush to get this to ballistics - Grissom may want us to join them at the commune."
Warrick frowned, "Just what I want to do. That place is like Disney World to me." His tone was very dry, and Nick grinned at him in commiseration.
"Maybe Gris will just tell us to go back to the lab."
Warrick rolled his eyes at Nick, "and if you believe that, I got some nice swamp land in Florida to sell you."
* * * * *
Doctor Robbins watched Greg thoughtfully as he pushed himself around the lab on his wheeled stool. The young man seemed almost back to his old self - he even had some god awful music playing in the lab, and two times in the last four minutes he had actually played air drums. Robbins wondered how much of this was natural youthful exuberance and Greg bouncing back from his near miss; half wondered how much of it was because of Alli. One thing for certain, he couldn't stand in the hallway watching Greg forever.
"Greg!"
Greg spun towards Robbins upon hearing his name, a slightly trepidatious smile on his face.
"Dr. Robbins! What can I do for you?" He turned down the small CD player until the music was just an underlying hum, and pushed his legs lightly against a filing cabinet, shooting himself across the room. Robbins couldn't help comparing this visit to Greg's lab to his last one, when the young man had been so startled his defibrillator had kicked in.
"You're looking better."
Greg nodded, "Feeling better. I'm starting to believe what everyone else keeps telling me - I will survive."
Robbins nodded, "No one ever said it would be easy, but you seem happier. Alli told me she's renting your apartment?"
"Uh - yeah. I hope you don't mind," Greg was suddenly flustered, "She told me you weren't too happy about it."
Robbins sighed, "Nothing against you, Greg, but she just got here. I was hoping we'd have her with us for a while longer yet. But I understand why she wants a place of her own - we really don't have enough room and she needs her space."
"She wants to get Goliath out of the garage."
"That too," Robbins smiled at the young man. "She told me what you're charging her. You could get more than that from someone else if you looked around."
Greg waved his hand, "I don't want to look around. Besides which, she's giving me one of her paintings, so I think it's a fair trade."
"What happens when you get the go ahead to move back to your place? What does she do then?"
"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."
Robbins sighed, "Fair enough. I think you're a good guy, Greg. But I would be remiss in my duties as an uncle if I didn't warn you not to trifle with her. You're the first person she met here, so she might be feeling comfortable with you - don't take advantage."
Greg could feel his face heat, but he smiled at Robbins with genuine understanding, "I respect you too much to try to uh - screw around with you niece."
"She likes you, you know. I know the signs."
"I like her."
"Okay." Robbins sighed, "Try not to hurt her - my wife and sister-in-law would kill me."
"And who's going to warn her not to hurt me?" Greg whispered, half to himself, not really expecting an answer.
"I've already told her Greg," Robbins smiled at the young man's shocked expression, "and you're right to be worried. If she's anything like my wife and her sister, you're won't know what hit you until it's too late."
___________
Author's Notes: Okay - I had three chapters almost completely finished, just minor tweaking, and I somehow managed to delete them or lose them or something. So, sorry this is a day later than originally planned, but what's a girl to do? I can't write 24/7. Hope you all like this chapter.