Chapter 5
Grissom walked into the room that acted as the team's common room, to find Sara, Nick and Warrick sitting at the large, central table, paper and files covering the pitted surface, discarded coffee mugs littering the sides.
'Have any of you seen officer Simone?' Grissom stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
'Yeah, she's gone out for a while.' Nick turned his face up to Grissom.
Gill raised an eyebrow, pressing his glasses further up his nose.
'Gone out?'
Nick shifted slightly, laying his large hands out on the table.
'Yeah, she got a call through from Brass. Turns out the guy she shot died on the operating table about 20 minutes ago.'
Nick turned strangely defiant eyes up to Grissom's, as if daring the older man to question Jo's reason for leaving, her need to take some time out.
Stepping further into the room, smoothly avoiding any kind of confrontation, Grissom poured himself some coffee and seated himself at the table next to Sara.
'So what have we got?'
Every pair of eyes turned to the files laid out before them, and the team applied their considerable brainpower to unravelling the clues, so they could file it away as yet another 'case closed'.
By the time I walked through the glass doors of the large crime unit building, I felt marginally better, but completely in control. An icy cold had settled around me, the frosty wind that bit into my body as I had sped along the highway had seeped into my very core.
But beneath the ice were emotions and questions I wasn't quite ready to face yet. Now wasn't the time. I knew I was angry at both myself for being so weak, and the people who forced others to hurt them; the kind of no good, sons of bitches who made good cops agonise over their actions.
And I was upset; really upset. I hadn't killed a man before today, last night, and I was finding it hard to reconcile this with the image of the fierce, yet morally sound woman I thought myself to be.
Worst of all I felt stupid, ignorant, naïve even. I had known for a very long time that I was one of those people who could kill if the situation came down to my survival or another's. I had known this one fact for a very long time, and it had been the deciding factor that made me take the leap to join the force.
Yet now, here I was, my discharged weapon sitting in a plastic bag somewhere ready to be examined, one of my bullets lodged in a dead man's body, and my hands shaking with fear, nerves and uncertainty. This wasn't the woman I knew, or even wanted to know.
The problem with walls, that sage voice whispered in my head, is that when they come down, they're always notoriously hard to rebuild.
I shook the hair out of my eyes, squared my shoulders, took a deep breath of the crisp air so that it burned all down my throat, and then I headed for the lab.
I could see through the glass walls as I approached that Greg, Grissom and a woman in beautiful clothes were standing in the lab, huddled in a group and talking freely.
I knocked gently on the door before I entered, knowing as I took off my sunglasses that my eyes were slightly red from crying, my skin too pale and the bruises livid and ugly in their colour. I pushed this all from my mind, pretending I couldn't feel the force of Grissom's gaze on my face, and forced a smile onto my lips.
'Catherine Willows?' I stuck out a hand to the woman, admiring the cut of her trousers and the beautiful red of her shirt.
'Officer Simone.' Well, she knew who I was. 'It's a pleasure.'
'Thank you.' I smiled into her blue eyes, taking in the carefully applied eyeliner, the coral-pink lipstick. Jeez this woman spent a lot of time on herself, but she does look good from it.
Suddenly I felt embarrassed, bumbling. Dear Lord woman! I practically screamed in my head. Get a grip.
'Grissom. Can I have a word? Are you done here?'
He pinned me with his gaze and for once I looked away first, feeling too exposed, like just another specimen to be dissected.
'Yes. I'll want an update later, Catherine.' She nodded, her auburn-blonde bob swinging and catching the light. Such a fetching woman.
I followed Grissom from the room, glancing every now and then at his profile, noting the soft hair that curled over the top of his ear. He needed a haircut.
With a jolt I realised we had stopped walking and he was now watching me watch him. Smiling to hide how flustered I felt, I reached out a hand and brushed the hair away from his ear. 'You need a haircut.'
He just stared at me levelly for a while, and I hoped this wouldn't turn into one of those embarrassing moments, but then he smiled slightly and I felt a wash of relief flow over me. My fingertips tingled ever so slightly from where they had brushed against his skin.
Entering Grissom's office, he gestured for me to take a seat, shrugging a lab coat from off his shoulders. I noticed that he had changed his jumper, so that he was now wearing a soft looking black polo neck. It made his shoulders look wider, his waist trimmer and I had a sudden desire to run my hands along his sides so I could feel the soft rib of the top. Instead I sat on my hands, and told myself the stress was getting to me.
He pulled his chair around the desk so he could face me without any obstacles in the way. I noticed the little frown of concentration on his forehead as he focused on manoeuvring the chair carefully around the desk corner. How could he manage to look so adult and yet so childlike at the same time?
I turned my face away briefly, pretending to look at the leaflets tacked to the wall, whilst I swallowed the lump in my throat and fought back the prick of tears from my eyes.
'Jo. . .' He started and something in his voice made me unwilling to hear this conversation, so I interrupted.
'Any new developments since I left?'
Again he pinned me with his gaze, and again I wanted to run away from it, because I knew that this was a man I could not fool with false bravado. Thankfully he replied, accepting my change of conversation.
'Yes. We were able to identify victim one.' Reaching behind him, he pulled a brown file from off the desk, passing it to me.
'James Tyler.' I read from the top of the file, quickly taking in his previous offences and then staring at the photo neatly clipped at the top. I recognised him immediately of course, it's not often you press your hand over the hot, squirting blood of a severed jugular in a desperate attempt to keep someone alive. But he looked younger in this picture, more vital and alive. I closed the file carefully and handed it back to Grissom.
'So you've tracked down the sister?' I worked at keeping my voice even, focussing on the case not the people. Or at least I was trying to.
Gill nodded. 'Indeed. She's in custody at the moment.'
I snapped my head up, pinning him with my eyes. 'Really?' I wondered why I hadn't been paged.
'I want to be in there.'
Grissom folded his hands over, linking his fingers and I couldn't help but stare at the grace in which those long, tapered digits moved.
'That isn't entirely up to me.'
'Then I'll clear it with Brass.'
I stood up, brooking no argument. I wanted to be in there, I wanted to hear what this woman had to say.
'What's her name?' I asked, pushing my hair back and tilting my head in Gill's direction.
'Felicity Tyler. Jo, maybe you should consider watching from the booth. It might not be a good idea having you inside.'
I turned so I was looking him full in the face. Noticing the fine lines around his eyes, I wondered how old he was. I glanced briefly at his lips, before returning my gaze to his eyes. I let out a breath.
'Ok. Sure. That will be fine.'
And then I turned and left the room, leaving Grissom to stare after my retreating back.
Grissom walked into the room that acted as the team's common room, to find Sara, Nick and Warrick sitting at the large, central table, paper and files covering the pitted surface, discarded coffee mugs littering the sides.
'Have any of you seen officer Simone?' Grissom stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
'Yeah, she's gone out for a while.' Nick turned his face up to Grissom.
Gill raised an eyebrow, pressing his glasses further up his nose.
'Gone out?'
Nick shifted slightly, laying his large hands out on the table.
'Yeah, she got a call through from Brass. Turns out the guy she shot died on the operating table about 20 minutes ago.'
Nick turned strangely defiant eyes up to Grissom's, as if daring the older man to question Jo's reason for leaving, her need to take some time out.
Stepping further into the room, smoothly avoiding any kind of confrontation, Grissom poured himself some coffee and seated himself at the table next to Sara.
'So what have we got?'
Every pair of eyes turned to the files laid out before them, and the team applied their considerable brainpower to unravelling the clues, so they could file it away as yet another 'case closed'.
By the time I walked through the glass doors of the large crime unit building, I felt marginally better, but completely in control. An icy cold had settled around me, the frosty wind that bit into my body as I had sped along the highway had seeped into my very core.
But beneath the ice were emotions and questions I wasn't quite ready to face yet. Now wasn't the time. I knew I was angry at both myself for being so weak, and the people who forced others to hurt them; the kind of no good, sons of bitches who made good cops agonise over their actions.
And I was upset; really upset. I hadn't killed a man before today, last night, and I was finding it hard to reconcile this with the image of the fierce, yet morally sound woman I thought myself to be.
Worst of all I felt stupid, ignorant, naïve even. I had known for a very long time that I was one of those people who could kill if the situation came down to my survival or another's. I had known this one fact for a very long time, and it had been the deciding factor that made me take the leap to join the force.
Yet now, here I was, my discharged weapon sitting in a plastic bag somewhere ready to be examined, one of my bullets lodged in a dead man's body, and my hands shaking with fear, nerves and uncertainty. This wasn't the woman I knew, or even wanted to know.
The problem with walls, that sage voice whispered in my head, is that when they come down, they're always notoriously hard to rebuild.
I shook the hair out of my eyes, squared my shoulders, took a deep breath of the crisp air so that it burned all down my throat, and then I headed for the lab.
I could see through the glass walls as I approached that Greg, Grissom and a woman in beautiful clothes were standing in the lab, huddled in a group and talking freely.
I knocked gently on the door before I entered, knowing as I took off my sunglasses that my eyes were slightly red from crying, my skin too pale and the bruises livid and ugly in their colour. I pushed this all from my mind, pretending I couldn't feel the force of Grissom's gaze on my face, and forced a smile onto my lips.
'Catherine Willows?' I stuck out a hand to the woman, admiring the cut of her trousers and the beautiful red of her shirt.
'Officer Simone.' Well, she knew who I was. 'It's a pleasure.'
'Thank you.' I smiled into her blue eyes, taking in the carefully applied eyeliner, the coral-pink lipstick. Jeez this woman spent a lot of time on herself, but she does look good from it.
Suddenly I felt embarrassed, bumbling. Dear Lord woman! I practically screamed in my head. Get a grip.
'Grissom. Can I have a word? Are you done here?'
He pinned me with his gaze and for once I looked away first, feeling too exposed, like just another specimen to be dissected.
'Yes. I'll want an update later, Catherine.' She nodded, her auburn-blonde bob swinging and catching the light. Such a fetching woman.
I followed Grissom from the room, glancing every now and then at his profile, noting the soft hair that curled over the top of his ear. He needed a haircut.
With a jolt I realised we had stopped walking and he was now watching me watch him. Smiling to hide how flustered I felt, I reached out a hand and brushed the hair away from his ear. 'You need a haircut.'
He just stared at me levelly for a while, and I hoped this wouldn't turn into one of those embarrassing moments, but then he smiled slightly and I felt a wash of relief flow over me. My fingertips tingled ever so slightly from where they had brushed against his skin.
Entering Grissom's office, he gestured for me to take a seat, shrugging a lab coat from off his shoulders. I noticed that he had changed his jumper, so that he was now wearing a soft looking black polo neck. It made his shoulders look wider, his waist trimmer and I had a sudden desire to run my hands along his sides so I could feel the soft rib of the top. Instead I sat on my hands, and told myself the stress was getting to me.
He pulled his chair around the desk so he could face me without any obstacles in the way. I noticed the little frown of concentration on his forehead as he focused on manoeuvring the chair carefully around the desk corner. How could he manage to look so adult and yet so childlike at the same time?
I turned my face away briefly, pretending to look at the leaflets tacked to the wall, whilst I swallowed the lump in my throat and fought back the prick of tears from my eyes.
'Jo. . .' He started and something in his voice made me unwilling to hear this conversation, so I interrupted.
'Any new developments since I left?'
Again he pinned me with his gaze, and again I wanted to run away from it, because I knew that this was a man I could not fool with false bravado. Thankfully he replied, accepting my change of conversation.
'Yes. We were able to identify victim one.' Reaching behind him, he pulled a brown file from off the desk, passing it to me.
'James Tyler.' I read from the top of the file, quickly taking in his previous offences and then staring at the photo neatly clipped at the top. I recognised him immediately of course, it's not often you press your hand over the hot, squirting blood of a severed jugular in a desperate attempt to keep someone alive. But he looked younger in this picture, more vital and alive. I closed the file carefully and handed it back to Grissom.
'So you've tracked down the sister?' I worked at keeping my voice even, focussing on the case not the people. Or at least I was trying to.
Gill nodded. 'Indeed. She's in custody at the moment.'
I snapped my head up, pinning him with my eyes. 'Really?' I wondered why I hadn't been paged.
'I want to be in there.'
Grissom folded his hands over, linking his fingers and I couldn't help but stare at the grace in which those long, tapered digits moved.
'That isn't entirely up to me.'
'Then I'll clear it with Brass.'
I stood up, brooking no argument. I wanted to be in there, I wanted to hear what this woman had to say.
'What's her name?' I asked, pushing my hair back and tilting my head in Gill's direction.
'Felicity Tyler. Jo, maybe you should consider watching from the booth. It might not be a good idea having you inside.'
I turned so I was looking him full in the face. Noticing the fine lines around his eyes, I wondered how old he was. I glanced briefly at his lips, before returning my gaze to his eyes. I let out a breath.
'Ok. Sure. That will be fine.'
And then I turned and left the room, leaving Grissom to stare after my retreating back.