***1. I don't own these characters, this show, or CBS (obviously, or
Season 3 would have been very different). 2. I'm not making any cash at
all out of this. 3. Word to all the UtB people (especially
freak_of_nature who was SOOOO nice to beta this for me weeks ago!! Thanks
so much!!) Also, any references to other persons/or places in Nevada are
completely contrived and have no basis in reality!***
Chapter 6:
The canyon was barren of life but haunted by its evidence. The eerie cry of a hawk. An occasional bleached snakeskin or rodent skull. Even stranger were the petroglyphs. The cryptic images were carefully chiseled, stronger than rock, older than time.
"This place is beautiful," Sara said, staring at every petroglyph they passed with interest.
"The Anasazi used this place for ceremonies," Thomas said, "Those glyphs tell about important beliefs and occurrences. The Anasazi tried very hard to leave their world and their truths behind."
When they reached the crime scene, Sara instantly changed modes. She took a few gulps of Grissom's water before slipping on a pair of latex gloves. The body was prone, face down, hands balled into fists. There was no bleeding and no compound fractures.
"Grissom," she said, glancing up from the body with a question. His cobalt gaze met her and he leaned forward, intoxicating her with the clean smell of soap.
"He didn't fall," she said and he nodded, pursing his lips pensively.
"What made you think this body fell?" Grissom asked the officer, who had introduced himself as Stan Collins.
"Well, he doesn't have any snake bites that I could see....and he is laying face down." Thomas said.
"I don't think he fell," the officer answered, "I told Thomas as much."
"Did you touch anything?" Sara asked suspiciously.
"No, but I noticed a pile of clothes and a gym bag about ten feet from him." He pointed to the pile and Grissom went to investigate. Sara took several pictures of the boy. He was dark skinned, dark haired. He had an angle to his closed eyes and high round cheekbones.
"Is this boy a Native American?"
"More than that," the officer answered, "He's local. This boy is my kind," the ranger said, removing his hat to reveal his own black eyes and cinnamon skin.
"Do you know him?" Sara asked, and the man shook his head.
"No, but he is Pueblo.not sure which tribe, but Pueblo Indian like me."
Sara turned the victim's head after the pictures were complete. His lips were red rimmed and bubbles had formed at the corners of his mouth.
"David?" she called and he was at her side still wheezing as he bent over the body.
"What do you think of this?" she asked, showing the victim's lips.
"Could be due to drug overdose or possibly poison."
The coroner leaned in, and pried open the victim's mouth with his thumb and forefinger.
"I'd be willing to bet poison," he said as the tongue emerged from behind the victim's teeth. It was hugely swollen.
"Chemical or natural?" she asked.
"I'm not sure yet, we'll need to run a tox," David said with interest.
Half an hour later, her minor evidence collection was complete. Sara rose and approached Grissom who was reading a tag on the bag as she approached. Several samples of dirt and leaves were bagged and noted in his kit.
"I can tell you that the ground is trampled around the body. It looks like the boy marched around in circles before dying."
"Possible suicide," he said, "but possible and actual are a long ways apart."
"That depends on what you have here," she said with a nod towards the duffel bag.
"I think that is Halian Nash," he said, "And when he arrived, I believe he was fully clothed," he added pointing to the now bagged red shirt and jeans.
"He also had some interesting plants on him," he added.
"Not recreational, I'd bet. Possibly the poison," Sara said. "How about shoes?"
"No shoes," he said, "Looks like he wore the moccasins."
"Then I don't think we have a suicide," she said with a smirk.
His eyebrow arched and he stood up, following her back towards the body.
"You see that?" she asked, pointing at a trail of footprints that led away from the boy.
"Yes I do," he said, his brows furrowing in interest.
"We approached from the east. Those are about the same size as his, so I thought maybe he had changed into the moccasins."
"But since I didn't find any." Grissom said.
"Exactly," she said with a smirk, "It's still a possibility, but not a probability."
"How long since death?" Grissom asked David.
"The conditions make it difficult to determine. I would estimate 14-16 hours ago."
"That would be the middle of the night," Grissom said pensively.
"Do you have the boy's name?" the officer asked.
"Our best guess is Halian Nash."
"Halian is a Zuni name," Officer Collins said. "A boy with a Zuni name might know something of his ancestors. That might be why he's here."
"A lot of Natives visit this park," Thomas said, "Some consider it a holy ground. A place where their oldest ancestors walked."
"I think it's a poison suicide," Stan said.
"Or maybe someone forced him to take it," the ranger said sorrowfully.
"Or perhaps something completely different. We won't know until we start an autopsy," David added.
Chapter 6:
The canyon was barren of life but haunted by its evidence. The eerie cry of a hawk. An occasional bleached snakeskin or rodent skull. Even stranger were the petroglyphs. The cryptic images were carefully chiseled, stronger than rock, older than time.
"This place is beautiful," Sara said, staring at every petroglyph they passed with interest.
"The Anasazi used this place for ceremonies," Thomas said, "Those glyphs tell about important beliefs and occurrences. The Anasazi tried very hard to leave their world and their truths behind."
When they reached the crime scene, Sara instantly changed modes. She took a few gulps of Grissom's water before slipping on a pair of latex gloves. The body was prone, face down, hands balled into fists. There was no bleeding and no compound fractures.
"Grissom," she said, glancing up from the body with a question. His cobalt gaze met her and he leaned forward, intoxicating her with the clean smell of soap.
"He didn't fall," she said and he nodded, pursing his lips pensively.
"What made you think this body fell?" Grissom asked the officer, who had introduced himself as Stan Collins.
"Well, he doesn't have any snake bites that I could see....and he is laying face down." Thomas said.
"I don't think he fell," the officer answered, "I told Thomas as much."
"Did you touch anything?" Sara asked suspiciously.
"No, but I noticed a pile of clothes and a gym bag about ten feet from him." He pointed to the pile and Grissom went to investigate. Sara took several pictures of the boy. He was dark skinned, dark haired. He had an angle to his closed eyes and high round cheekbones.
"Is this boy a Native American?"
"More than that," the officer answered, "He's local. This boy is my kind," the ranger said, removing his hat to reveal his own black eyes and cinnamon skin.
"Do you know him?" Sara asked, and the man shook his head.
"No, but he is Pueblo.not sure which tribe, but Pueblo Indian like me."
Sara turned the victim's head after the pictures were complete. His lips were red rimmed and bubbles had formed at the corners of his mouth.
"David?" she called and he was at her side still wheezing as he bent over the body.
"What do you think of this?" she asked, showing the victim's lips.
"Could be due to drug overdose or possibly poison."
The coroner leaned in, and pried open the victim's mouth with his thumb and forefinger.
"I'd be willing to bet poison," he said as the tongue emerged from behind the victim's teeth. It was hugely swollen.
"Chemical or natural?" she asked.
"I'm not sure yet, we'll need to run a tox," David said with interest.
Half an hour later, her minor evidence collection was complete. Sara rose and approached Grissom who was reading a tag on the bag as she approached. Several samples of dirt and leaves were bagged and noted in his kit.
"I can tell you that the ground is trampled around the body. It looks like the boy marched around in circles before dying."
"Possible suicide," he said, "but possible and actual are a long ways apart."
"That depends on what you have here," she said with a nod towards the duffel bag.
"I think that is Halian Nash," he said, "And when he arrived, I believe he was fully clothed," he added pointing to the now bagged red shirt and jeans.
"He also had some interesting plants on him," he added.
"Not recreational, I'd bet. Possibly the poison," Sara said. "How about shoes?"
"No shoes," he said, "Looks like he wore the moccasins."
"Then I don't think we have a suicide," she said with a smirk.
His eyebrow arched and he stood up, following her back towards the body.
"You see that?" she asked, pointing at a trail of footprints that led away from the boy.
"Yes I do," he said, his brows furrowing in interest.
"We approached from the east. Those are about the same size as his, so I thought maybe he had changed into the moccasins."
"But since I didn't find any." Grissom said.
"Exactly," she said with a smirk, "It's still a possibility, but not a probability."
"How long since death?" Grissom asked David.
"The conditions make it difficult to determine. I would estimate 14-16 hours ago."
"That would be the middle of the night," Grissom said pensively.
"Do you have the boy's name?" the officer asked.
"Our best guess is Halian Nash."
"Halian is a Zuni name," Officer Collins said. "A boy with a Zuni name might know something of his ancestors. That might be why he's here."
"A lot of Natives visit this park," Thomas said, "Some consider it a holy ground. A place where their oldest ancestors walked."
"I think it's a poison suicide," Stan said.
"Or maybe someone forced him to take it," the ranger said sorrowfully.
"Or perhaps something completely different. We won't know until we start an autopsy," David added.