Chapter 3
Grissom was awakened by the sound of the door shutting. He opened his eyes to see Catherine sitting down at the table, eyeing a laminated piece of paper. "Who was that?," he said sitting up, pulling the covers off of his body, and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. ~She must have covered me up.~ He grinned.
"One of the inn's employees. Seems there's a big snowstorm moving in, and they assumed we would just be eating here at the hotel. I was informed that we get free dinner nightly anyway--it comes with the...honeymoon suite." She raised her eyebrow at him, quizically.
He stepped up from the bed and smiled lightly at her. "Brass made the reservations."
"Of course. CSI's money. Who am I to complain?" She held up the menu. "So, what do you want to order?"
"Whatever. You know what I like." He was going through the papers that she had apparently removed from the bed earlier and had stacked neatly next to his glasses on the table.
"You're making a mess, Grissom. I just organized those from the mess you made earlier!"
"Me? I seem to recall someone else throwing papers across the bed, too. That is, before she fell asleep on me and left me to sort through evidence by myself."
Catherine smiled at him to hide her embarassment. She had wondered how long she had been asleep before he followed suit. "I was tired. Sue me."
"Obviously, we both were." He sighed and ran his fingers through the slightly touseled curls on his head. "I'm just not sure how much we're going to find by going through these papers. We need to get to those crime scenes. But we can't do that in a blizzard. Even now, who knows how much hasn't been destroyed already? I mean, the first murder was almost six weeks ago. We're probably going to have to rely on the more recent ones to catch our guy and just hope that some of that evidence links us to the previous victims. We'll make a chart of victims, locations, and timelines tonight. I'll also call Brass and see if he's got anything new for us."
"Are you expecting something new?"
"Well, they've been shipping the bodies to a medical examiner about an hour away. They don't have the manpower or equipment to do anything here. Dr. Haysbert--I think it is--is then sending all pictures of the victims and any other pertinent evidence to Doc Robins, who is then keeping Brass in the loop."
"Why through so many hands? You know as well as I do that the evidence diminishes little by little the more people it has to go through. Why don't we just go to the medical examiner's office ourselves?"
"Yes, I know, that sounds the most logical. You know me, Cat--you know I would much rather have my own hands on that evidence. Especially now that we're not even able to process the actual crime scenes like we should. But, Brass wants us to be as discreet as we can about this--he thinks that somebody local did this--somebody that is still very much around. And I'm sure that he's right. I just feel like we're working this case from afar."
"We are. This is going to be tough, Gris--we both know that. We've got next to nothing to work with. But, I couldn't have asked for a better partner."
"You mean husband." He wasn't quite sure why he said it outloud--he was thinking it, and it just slipped from his lips. He winked at her to alleviate his own tension and lighten the mood.
"Probably couldn't ask for a better one of those either." And with that, she winked back at him and walked towards the door. "I'm going to go down and order us something to eat. Maybe talk to some of the 'town folk' while I'm down there. I'll be back in a bit."
The door was already shut, when "Okay" slipped through his lips. "Does she even have a clue what she does to me?" "No, because you won't tell her." He let out a cynical laugh and shook his head, wondering why he was carrying on a full conversation with himself.
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It had been well over an hour since Catherine had left to go to the lobby to get their dinner. Grissom was pacing the room nervously, wondering what was taking her so long. His fears were alleviated somewhat when he looked out the window and saw the rental car resting in it's same parking space, collecting mounds of snow on top of it. ~At least she didn't venture off in this weather. She has to be in the building somewhere.~ He slipped on his shoes, grabbed the door key off of the desk and exited the room, determined to find out what could be holding her up.
The elevator doors opened and he stepped out into the small lobby. Several small corridors branched out from the room. He wasn't quite sure where to start looking for Catherine.
"Can I help you sir?" Grissom noticed that a different young lady was now positioned behind the counter. She must have noticed him looking around, confused as to where he was headed.
"Restaurant?"
"Yes sir." She pointed to her left. "If you take this hallway all the way down, you'll see it on the right."
"Thanks." He was already walking when he spoke. When he had almost reached the end of the hallway, he could hear the music before he could actually see the restaurant. The windows were tinted black and an open sign hung on the door. He peered through his cupped hands, trying to see inside of the dark glass. Realizing that this was getting him nowhere--he couldn't see a thing--he opened the door and walked in hesitantly.
It looked more like a bar than the quaint restaurant he was expecting. There were people everywhere--young and old. He mused to himself that half of the town's population must be residing there at this very moment. Some were playing pool, some crowded at small tables, and a few more were sitting at the bar. That's when he saw her.
Catherine was on a bar stool, next to a man whose hand was resting on her back. Grissom's jaw tightened as he watched the man's fingers play about her spine. She swiveled in her seat, but the man didn't remove his hand-- he only repositioned it. It was now resting on her hip. ~Why is she letting a stranger touch her?~ Grissom wasn't sure whether he wanted to turn and run out the door, or whether he wanted to knock the ever-present silly grin off of the man's face. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and walked forward until he was directly behind where Catherine was sitting. He was just out of her vision when he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "Hello Catherine
Grissom was awakened by the sound of the door shutting. He opened his eyes to see Catherine sitting down at the table, eyeing a laminated piece of paper. "Who was that?," he said sitting up, pulling the covers off of his body, and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. ~She must have covered me up.~ He grinned.
"One of the inn's employees. Seems there's a big snowstorm moving in, and they assumed we would just be eating here at the hotel. I was informed that we get free dinner nightly anyway--it comes with the...honeymoon suite." She raised her eyebrow at him, quizically.
He stepped up from the bed and smiled lightly at her. "Brass made the reservations."
"Of course. CSI's money. Who am I to complain?" She held up the menu. "So, what do you want to order?"
"Whatever. You know what I like." He was going through the papers that she had apparently removed from the bed earlier and had stacked neatly next to his glasses on the table.
"You're making a mess, Grissom. I just organized those from the mess you made earlier!"
"Me? I seem to recall someone else throwing papers across the bed, too. That is, before she fell asleep on me and left me to sort through evidence by myself."
Catherine smiled at him to hide her embarassment. She had wondered how long she had been asleep before he followed suit. "I was tired. Sue me."
"Obviously, we both were." He sighed and ran his fingers through the slightly touseled curls on his head. "I'm just not sure how much we're going to find by going through these papers. We need to get to those crime scenes. But we can't do that in a blizzard. Even now, who knows how much hasn't been destroyed already? I mean, the first murder was almost six weeks ago. We're probably going to have to rely on the more recent ones to catch our guy and just hope that some of that evidence links us to the previous victims. We'll make a chart of victims, locations, and timelines tonight. I'll also call Brass and see if he's got anything new for us."
"Are you expecting something new?"
"Well, they've been shipping the bodies to a medical examiner about an hour away. They don't have the manpower or equipment to do anything here. Dr. Haysbert--I think it is--is then sending all pictures of the victims and any other pertinent evidence to Doc Robins, who is then keeping Brass in the loop."
"Why through so many hands? You know as well as I do that the evidence diminishes little by little the more people it has to go through. Why don't we just go to the medical examiner's office ourselves?"
"Yes, I know, that sounds the most logical. You know me, Cat--you know I would much rather have my own hands on that evidence. Especially now that we're not even able to process the actual crime scenes like we should. But, Brass wants us to be as discreet as we can about this--he thinks that somebody local did this--somebody that is still very much around. And I'm sure that he's right. I just feel like we're working this case from afar."
"We are. This is going to be tough, Gris--we both know that. We've got next to nothing to work with. But, I couldn't have asked for a better partner."
"You mean husband." He wasn't quite sure why he said it outloud--he was thinking it, and it just slipped from his lips. He winked at her to alleviate his own tension and lighten the mood.
"Probably couldn't ask for a better one of those either." And with that, she winked back at him and walked towards the door. "I'm going to go down and order us something to eat. Maybe talk to some of the 'town folk' while I'm down there. I'll be back in a bit."
The door was already shut, when "Okay" slipped through his lips. "Does she even have a clue what she does to me?" "No, because you won't tell her." He let out a cynical laugh and shook his head, wondering why he was carrying on a full conversation with himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had been well over an hour since Catherine had left to go to the lobby to get their dinner. Grissom was pacing the room nervously, wondering what was taking her so long. His fears were alleviated somewhat when he looked out the window and saw the rental car resting in it's same parking space, collecting mounds of snow on top of it. ~At least she didn't venture off in this weather. She has to be in the building somewhere.~ He slipped on his shoes, grabbed the door key off of the desk and exited the room, determined to find out what could be holding her up.
The elevator doors opened and he stepped out into the small lobby. Several small corridors branched out from the room. He wasn't quite sure where to start looking for Catherine.
"Can I help you sir?" Grissom noticed that a different young lady was now positioned behind the counter. She must have noticed him looking around, confused as to where he was headed.
"Restaurant?"
"Yes sir." She pointed to her left. "If you take this hallway all the way down, you'll see it on the right."
"Thanks." He was already walking when he spoke. When he had almost reached the end of the hallway, he could hear the music before he could actually see the restaurant. The windows were tinted black and an open sign hung on the door. He peered through his cupped hands, trying to see inside of the dark glass. Realizing that this was getting him nowhere--he couldn't see a thing--he opened the door and walked in hesitantly.
It looked more like a bar than the quaint restaurant he was expecting. There were people everywhere--young and old. He mused to himself that half of the town's population must be residing there at this very moment. Some were playing pool, some crowded at small tables, and a few more were sitting at the bar. That's when he saw her.
Catherine was on a bar stool, next to a man whose hand was resting on her back. Grissom's jaw tightened as he watched the man's fingers play about her spine. She swiveled in her seat, but the man didn't remove his hand-- he only repositioned it. It was now resting on her hip. ~Why is she letting a stranger touch her?~ Grissom wasn't sure whether he wanted to turn and run out the door, or whether he wanted to knock the ever-present silly grin off of the man's face. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and walked forward until he was directly behind where Catherine was sitting. He was just out of her vision when he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "Hello Catherine