XXVI - CONSPIRACIES
"Greggo - coffee," Nick grinned as the young lab tech jumped. "Not that you need any more caffeine tonight, judging from your jittery response."
Greg rolled his eyes at Nick, but smiled in appreciation as he saw the large cup Nick was holding out to him. "I'd tell you where to shove your comments, but since I don't have the coffee yet -"
"Sara said you're running a DNA comparison?"
"Yeah - the unknown blonde hair against the flattened cat burglar. Catherine has a hunch."
"She's turning into Grissom," Nick remarked good-naturedly. "The evidence is 'talking' to her. How far are you on the comparison?"
Greg shrugged, "Actually, it's pretty much done. We had the DNA already for both samples, and I just hadn't gotten around to comparing the markers yet for similarities. Vincent's the one who told me the blonde hair from the duct wasn't our dead guy's, but I wanted to look at it myself anyway. Not that I don't trust Vincent, but he only looks for the obvious."
Greg grinned slyly at Nick as he tapped his keyboard and turned to the printer. "Myself, I like to look under the surface. Because, you know, if I looked for the obvious I'd think you and Sara were maybe an item. But I know you're not."
Nick's mouth dropped for a moment before snapping shut with an audible click. "What the hell are you talking about Greg?"
"You and Sara. The sudden increase in flirting. Dancing in the break room. Phone calls during office hours that veer somewhat away from professional. I'm not stupid, Nick."
Nick didn't say anything. Greg smirked at him. "Actually, I'm a lot smarter than people give me credit for. Take, for instance, the comment you made in the cage at Icarus the other night, about Sara flirting with Grissom. At the time, I thought you were joking. But then - you know, you only really start flirting with her when Grissom is around. And that entire 'dancing after shift' thing earlier - entirely for Grissom's benefit. She's not going dancing with you, but the look on Grissom's face when she said yes - makes me think something is up. And that whole conversation the other day about older men and younger women? Il - lum -in -at - ing!" Greg drawled the last word. "So, you're trying to make Grissom jealous?"
Nick shrugged and didn't respond, but he looked a little tense. Greg started laughing, "Relax, man. I think it's funny. I just can't believe you're the one trying to shake Grissom up like this. You worship the guy! Don't you think he's going to be a little pissed at you when he finds out you've been screwing with him?"
"I don't worship him," Nick muttered, "and I'm doing it for his own good."
Greg grinned, "You do worship him - we all do. But I happen to agree with you - Sara would be good for him. So, how can I help?"
* * * * *
"Thank God Lockwood was available to take Miles in," Catherine muttered. She was sitting tiredly in the Tahoe besides Warrick, "That man is a weasel."
"We don't know he was involved yet, Cath," Warrick's tone was gentle as he smiled at the woman beside him. Catherine snorted inelegantly.
"If he had nothing to hide, he wouldn't be clamoring for a lawyer," she retorted. "And did you see his face when we asked him if they kept employee fingerprints on file? I thought he was going to bust a vein right there. Hello, aneurysm!"
Warrick shrugged, "It doesn't look good, that's for sure. Still - let's not jump to conclusions. Do you really think if he was working or related to our pancake, he would be so calm about his death? Just because he's blonde and slightly built like our jumping John Doe doesn't mean they're related."
"I know," she was interrupted from further response by the ringing of her cell phone. "Willows. Yeah -yeah, Brass. No - we just left. Two blocks, maybe? Uh huh - so soon? Okay, we'll meet you there in 20 minutes." She sighed as she hung up the phone, looking at Warrick, "That was Brass."
"No kidding," Warrick grinned, "what's up?"
"He got a warrant for all the employee records - including the fingerprints taken for criminal checks. Miles' own fingerprints should be on file. We're meeting him back at the hotel. I'll call Grissom and let him know. He should be back at the lab by now."
"Call him after we get the prints," Warrick interrupted. "We have twenty minutes before Brass will arrive at the Icarus. Think we could get something to eat real quick? We just passed a Subway place. Besides, we didn't really have any dinner and lunch was just a grilled cheese sandwich at your place. I'm hungry."
Catherine grinned at this, "I suppose we should eat. Food will energize us; help us keep up our stamina."
Warrick rolled his eyes, "Must you always flirt?" he teased.
Catherine laughed softly, "Hey - you were the one that suggested Subway sandwiches."
"And how's that flirting?" Warrick retorted.
Catherine just grinned and licked her lips devilishly, blue eyes snapping as she teased, "You obviously want to see me wrap my mouth around something that's eight inches long."
* * * * *
Sara was chewing the end of her pen. It was a habit she thought she had broken after that weird case with the antique books, but apparently not. Sighing in agitation, she took the pen out of her mouth and frowned at the tattered end, trying not to look at Grissom.
He had been sitting silently in the break room since Nick had left to take Greg his coffee. Hardly 2 words had passed his lips as he had reached for the legal pad Sara had been making notes on.
"That it?" he had asked, pointing at the pad. Sara had known exactly what he meant, and had slid it over.
"Yeah - most of these are Greg's notes - I've added a few of my own a page or two in. All the insurance information is outlined. Policy numbers, value, payouts -" she stopped talking when she realized Grissom wasn't paying any attention. She desperately wanted to find out what - if anything - Mr. van der Brucke had said to Grissom and Nick, but there was no way she was going to beg him for information.
Instead, sighing angrily, she had grabbed her pen and turned back to the maintenance logs, shoving her pen into her mouth and chewing the end to pieces.
"This is thorough," Grissom finally commented as he looked at Sara and smiled, waiting for a response. Sara gritted her teeth and continued pretending to read the maintenance logs. She felt Grissom's eyes drilling a hole through her, and fought the sudden urge to grin.
"Sara," Grissom's tone was slightly peevish, "what are your thoughts on the insurance. Do you think it's a viable motive?"
Sara wondered briefly if she could get away with ignoring him again, before deciding not to push her luck. Arching an eyebrow at him, she straightened her shoulders and looked at him. "No, I don't think it's a viable motive."
"Why not?"
"Because the van der Brucke's had more jewelry with them then they had insured for out of country travel. If you're going to pull an insurance scam, you make damn sure the insurance will cover what gets 'stolen'."
"But what if you just want to murder your wife because it's cheaper than divorcing her, and a robbery-gone-wrong is your camouflage?"
Sara frowned, "Since I wasn't with you and Nick when you spoke with Willem van der Brucke, I'm really in no position to comment on that." Her response was slightly less icy than the Arctic Circle, "However, if murdering you're wife is cheaper than divorcing her, I doubt he would want to lose a few million dollars in insurance money on the heist. He would have insured everything - and he didn't."
Grissom smiled slightly at this, "True. What if she was planning on leaving him, and arranged for the robbery to line her purse, so to speak? Maybe she was double-dealt."
"And you base this on what?" Sara retorted, "That fact that she was so much younger than her husband? Age is not a motive, Grissom."
"You really don't find the age difference - that doesn't bother you?"
Sara suddenly looked up at him, eyes blazing. "No," she snapped, "Why would it? Age is irrelevant when you love someone. I think she was surprised by a cat-burglar."
* * * * *
"Not a match," Greg muttered, as he quickly scanned the print-out. "No markers in common; nothing. Catherine's hunch was wrong."
Nick looked over the younger man's shoulder and looked at the report, sighing. "What if you run the jumper against the woman's hair. Maybe they're related?"
Greg shook his head, "No. Did that earlier. Nada." He sighed again, and took a large swig of his coffee, wincing at the slightly tepid heat of it. "You see, that's the only drawback to these super-sized coffees. Unless you shoot them back, they start cooling down before you're even close to finishing them." He glanced balefully at his cup, "It's the microwave for you, baby."
Nick had taken the print-out from Greg, and was looking at it intently. "Did you compare the hairs found in the vents against each other?" Greg shook his head and pushed his chair to the other side of the lab, reaching into a file and pulling out the report he had done earlier.
"No, actually, I hadn't done that yet. Here."
Nick took the proffered report and quickly layered it over the print-out he was holding, blocking off the dead cat burglar's DNA. He grinned suddenly. "Greggo - look at his. The hairs Cath and Warrick found in the venting? Siblings."
Greg looked at the DNA markers, before grinning widely, "Brother and sister. This is getting interesting."
_________________________________
Author's Notes: Sorry - shorter chapter than normal. I've been having computer problems, and have managed to lose three chapters of this story - I know I saved them to my hard drive, but can't find them anywhere. So - rewriting them as best I can. Will try to get caught up as quickly as possible, thanks for your patience, and please R & R - I always enjoy everyone's opinions!
"Greggo - coffee," Nick grinned as the young lab tech jumped. "Not that you need any more caffeine tonight, judging from your jittery response."
Greg rolled his eyes at Nick, but smiled in appreciation as he saw the large cup Nick was holding out to him. "I'd tell you where to shove your comments, but since I don't have the coffee yet -"
"Sara said you're running a DNA comparison?"
"Yeah - the unknown blonde hair against the flattened cat burglar. Catherine has a hunch."
"She's turning into Grissom," Nick remarked good-naturedly. "The evidence is 'talking' to her. How far are you on the comparison?"
Greg shrugged, "Actually, it's pretty much done. We had the DNA already for both samples, and I just hadn't gotten around to comparing the markers yet for similarities. Vincent's the one who told me the blonde hair from the duct wasn't our dead guy's, but I wanted to look at it myself anyway. Not that I don't trust Vincent, but he only looks for the obvious."
Greg grinned slyly at Nick as he tapped his keyboard and turned to the printer. "Myself, I like to look under the surface. Because, you know, if I looked for the obvious I'd think you and Sara were maybe an item. But I know you're not."
Nick's mouth dropped for a moment before snapping shut with an audible click. "What the hell are you talking about Greg?"
"You and Sara. The sudden increase in flirting. Dancing in the break room. Phone calls during office hours that veer somewhat away from professional. I'm not stupid, Nick."
Nick didn't say anything. Greg smirked at him. "Actually, I'm a lot smarter than people give me credit for. Take, for instance, the comment you made in the cage at Icarus the other night, about Sara flirting with Grissom. At the time, I thought you were joking. But then - you know, you only really start flirting with her when Grissom is around. And that entire 'dancing after shift' thing earlier - entirely for Grissom's benefit. She's not going dancing with you, but the look on Grissom's face when she said yes - makes me think something is up. And that whole conversation the other day about older men and younger women? Il - lum -in -at - ing!" Greg drawled the last word. "So, you're trying to make Grissom jealous?"
Nick shrugged and didn't respond, but he looked a little tense. Greg started laughing, "Relax, man. I think it's funny. I just can't believe you're the one trying to shake Grissom up like this. You worship the guy! Don't you think he's going to be a little pissed at you when he finds out you've been screwing with him?"
"I don't worship him," Nick muttered, "and I'm doing it for his own good."
Greg grinned, "You do worship him - we all do. But I happen to agree with you - Sara would be good for him. So, how can I help?"
* * * * *
"Thank God Lockwood was available to take Miles in," Catherine muttered. She was sitting tiredly in the Tahoe besides Warrick, "That man is a weasel."
"We don't know he was involved yet, Cath," Warrick's tone was gentle as he smiled at the woman beside him. Catherine snorted inelegantly.
"If he had nothing to hide, he wouldn't be clamoring for a lawyer," she retorted. "And did you see his face when we asked him if they kept employee fingerprints on file? I thought he was going to bust a vein right there. Hello, aneurysm!"
Warrick shrugged, "It doesn't look good, that's for sure. Still - let's not jump to conclusions. Do you really think if he was working or related to our pancake, he would be so calm about his death? Just because he's blonde and slightly built like our jumping John Doe doesn't mean they're related."
"I know," she was interrupted from further response by the ringing of her cell phone. "Willows. Yeah -yeah, Brass. No - we just left. Two blocks, maybe? Uh huh - so soon? Okay, we'll meet you there in 20 minutes." She sighed as she hung up the phone, looking at Warrick, "That was Brass."
"No kidding," Warrick grinned, "what's up?"
"He got a warrant for all the employee records - including the fingerprints taken for criminal checks. Miles' own fingerprints should be on file. We're meeting him back at the hotel. I'll call Grissom and let him know. He should be back at the lab by now."
"Call him after we get the prints," Warrick interrupted. "We have twenty minutes before Brass will arrive at the Icarus. Think we could get something to eat real quick? We just passed a Subway place. Besides, we didn't really have any dinner and lunch was just a grilled cheese sandwich at your place. I'm hungry."
Catherine grinned at this, "I suppose we should eat. Food will energize us; help us keep up our stamina."
Warrick rolled his eyes, "Must you always flirt?" he teased.
Catherine laughed softly, "Hey - you were the one that suggested Subway sandwiches."
"And how's that flirting?" Warrick retorted.
Catherine just grinned and licked her lips devilishly, blue eyes snapping as she teased, "You obviously want to see me wrap my mouth around something that's eight inches long."
* * * * *
Sara was chewing the end of her pen. It was a habit she thought she had broken after that weird case with the antique books, but apparently not. Sighing in agitation, she took the pen out of her mouth and frowned at the tattered end, trying not to look at Grissom.
He had been sitting silently in the break room since Nick had left to take Greg his coffee. Hardly 2 words had passed his lips as he had reached for the legal pad Sara had been making notes on.
"That it?" he had asked, pointing at the pad. Sara had known exactly what he meant, and had slid it over.
"Yeah - most of these are Greg's notes - I've added a few of my own a page or two in. All the insurance information is outlined. Policy numbers, value, payouts -" she stopped talking when she realized Grissom wasn't paying any attention. She desperately wanted to find out what - if anything - Mr. van der Brucke had said to Grissom and Nick, but there was no way she was going to beg him for information.
Instead, sighing angrily, she had grabbed her pen and turned back to the maintenance logs, shoving her pen into her mouth and chewing the end to pieces.
"This is thorough," Grissom finally commented as he looked at Sara and smiled, waiting for a response. Sara gritted her teeth and continued pretending to read the maintenance logs. She felt Grissom's eyes drilling a hole through her, and fought the sudden urge to grin.
"Sara," Grissom's tone was slightly peevish, "what are your thoughts on the insurance. Do you think it's a viable motive?"
Sara wondered briefly if she could get away with ignoring him again, before deciding not to push her luck. Arching an eyebrow at him, she straightened her shoulders and looked at him. "No, I don't think it's a viable motive."
"Why not?"
"Because the van der Brucke's had more jewelry with them then they had insured for out of country travel. If you're going to pull an insurance scam, you make damn sure the insurance will cover what gets 'stolen'."
"But what if you just want to murder your wife because it's cheaper than divorcing her, and a robbery-gone-wrong is your camouflage?"
Sara frowned, "Since I wasn't with you and Nick when you spoke with Willem van der Brucke, I'm really in no position to comment on that." Her response was slightly less icy than the Arctic Circle, "However, if murdering you're wife is cheaper than divorcing her, I doubt he would want to lose a few million dollars in insurance money on the heist. He would have insured everything - and he didn't."
Grissom smiled slightly at this, "True. What if she was planning on leaving him, and arranged for the robbery to line her purse, so to speak? Maybe she was double-dealt."
"And you base this on what?" Sara retorted, "That fact that she was so much younger than her husband? Age is not a motive, Grissom."
"You really don't find the age difference - that doesn't bother you?"
Sara suddenly looked up at him, eyes blazing. "No," she snapped, "Why would it? Age is irrelevant when you love someone. I think she was surprised by a cat-burglar."
* * * * *
"Not a match," Greg muttered, as he quickly scanned the print-out. "No markers in common; nothing. Catherine's hunch was wrong."
Nick looked over the younger man's shoulder and looked at the report, sighing. "What if you run the jumper against the woman's hair. Maybe they're related?"
Greg shook his head, "No. Did that earlier. Nada." He sighed again, and took a large swig of his coffee, wincing at the slightly tepid heat of it. "You see, that's the only drawback to these super-sized coffees. Unless you shoot them back, they start cooling down before you're even close to finishing them." He glanced balefully at his cup, "It's the microwave for you, baby."
Nick had taken the print-out from Greg, and was looking at it intently. "Did you compare the hairs found in the vents against each other?" Greg shook his head and pushed his chair to the other side of the lab, reaching into a file and pulling out the report he had done earlier.
"No, actually, I hadn't done that yet. Here."
Nick took the proffered report and quickly layered it over the print-out he was holding, blocking off the dead cat burglar's DNA. He grinned suddenly. "Greggo - look at his. The hairs Cath and Warrick found in the venting? Siblings."
Greg looked at the DNA markers, before grinning widely, "Brother and sister. This is getting interesting."
_________________________________
Author's Notes: Sorry - shorter chapter than normal. I've been having computer problems, and have managed to lose three chapters of this story - I know I saved them to my hard drive, but can't find them anywhere. So - rewriting them as best I can. Will try to get caught up as quickly as possible, thanks for your patience, and please R & R - I always enjoy everyone's opinions!