This story is based on characters created by Anthony E. Zuiker for the television series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.

Ghost (Part 21/26)

by Cheers

Monday Afternoon 03:43 PM

Sara stood with her arms crossed and her jaw clenched, looking through the one-way glass into the interrogation room. She had wanted to see the man, to look at his face. Catherine had joined Brass at the table. O'Riley stood with his back to the door. Paul Stankowski slouched in a chair, drawing invisible designs on the tabletop and ignoring the questions Brass was asking.

"We have your prints in two stolen vehicles and on the front door of Gil Grissom's house," Brass told Stankowski. "You want to tell me how they got there?"

Stankowski switched the digit he was using to draw on the tabletop from his index finger to his middle finger. The gesture wasn't lost on Jim or Catherine.

"Miss Sidle."

Sara turned to find that the Sheriff had joined her in the observation room. He was holding a file folder. "Sheriff," she said.

"I brought the file from the Los Angeles Coroner's office. I thought you might want to see it as soon as you got back," Mobley offered her the file.

She frowned slightly. The Sheriff seemed an unlikely delivery person, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "I do. Thanks," she said taking the file from him.

"So this is Mr. Stankowski?" the Sheriff asked.

"That's him," she replied.

Inside the interrogation room, very little progress was being made. "We have enough to convict you of felony assault, grand theft auto in two states, possession of an illegal weapon, and possibly murder," Jim Brass was informing Stankowski. "I guess you really missed prison, huh."

"Fuck you," Stankowski muttered.

"I hope you find what you need in those notes," Mobley told Sara. "I don't think Mr. Stankowski is going to be at all helpful to our investigation."

He looked at the young CSI and saw the anger and fear on her face. This was what being involved with the criminal element was like. The information needed to solve crimes was often held by those who were least willing to offer it. The challenge had always been to be smarter than the bad guys. Sometimes smart wasn't enough. Sometimes there was no substitute for luck. If Grissom were in the room with them, he would probably argue about that. Brian suspected that Gil didn't believe in luck. Right now, staring at the face of the man who was probably responsible for killing Grissom, Brian prayed that he was wrong. Luck might be all they had left unless the information in the file he had just given Sara was pure gold.

Sara inspected the face of the Sheriff closely. She was sure there was a genuine sadness there. Maybe even regret. She guessed there were a lot of people feeling that way right about now. Sometimes it takes missing someone to realize how they've impacted your life. And Grissom was missing. Not dead, Sara told herself. He can't be. She couldn't think that.

She took a deep breath and looked back down at the file. "I'll let you know," she told the Sheriff and headed toward the conference room. With luck, Grissom would be able to tell them what Stankowski wouldn't. Grissom just might be the only one with the clue to where he could be found.

Monday Evening 04:09 PM

The Cal Neri Mining Company just outside Searchlight, Nevada was still in business, but on a very small scale. Their processing plant was efficiently run and employed a single shift year round. Sometimes, during the summer months, they ran two shifts. Warrick and Nick had no problem with the plant manager when they asked to take a look around the small building complex. They were joined by another State Trooper, Steve Allan. This complex was smaller and more streamlined than the Crystal Gorge Mine Company had been.

No one who worked at the plant remembered seeing the Toyota or an unfamiliar face in the past week. For that matter, no one could remember seeing anyone unusual in months. Searchlight wasn't exactly a tourist destination.

A search of the grounds around the plant building yielded them nothing. There was no indication that anyone who didn't belong at the plant had been there. The fence surrounding the complex was in good repair. The security guard on duty searched the logs for the past two weeks for any indications of the unusual. As far as the company's records were concerned, nothing untoward had happened.

Nick had thanked the plant manager and joined Warrick and Trooper Allan at their vehicles. "Well this was a strike out," he said.

Warrick shook his head. "Not entirely. At least we can be reasonably sure Stankowski wasn't here."

Nick took a deep breath and nodded. Damn, he was tired. This had been one long-ass day and there didn't seem to be an end in sight. "Yeah," he said as he pulled out the list the State Mining Commission had faxed to him. "That leaves us with one more processing plant within a hundred miles of Vegas."

"Where's that?" Trooper Allan asked.

Nick consulted the list. "Panaca."

Warrick whistled. "Man, that's got to be eighty, ninety miles from here."

"More like a hundred," Allan told them. "That's way outside my patrol area. I'll try to find out who's patrolling out there this afternoon."

"Hey, thanks man," Nick said as the Trooper moved off to place the call to dispatch.

Warrick turned to his partner. "I think you'd better drive."

It was Nick's turn to shake his head. "I was about to say the same thing to you. "

Before they resorted to a game of rock-paper-scissors to determine which of them would drive, Nick's cellphone rang.

Monday Evening 04:53 PM

Sara tapped the eraser of a pencil impatiently on the pad of paper she had been taking notes on. She listened as Nick's cellphone rang a second time.

"Stokes."

"Nick, Sara," she began. "Where are you guys?"

"Just finishing up in Searchlight," Nick's voice said. "We were thinking about heading up to Panaca. That's where the last processing plant on the list is located."

"You better put off that trip," Sara told him. "Catherine wants you both back here ASAP."

"What's up?"

"Well, Stankowski isn't talking but Grissom might be."