***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 7:
Grissom tilted his head upwards and tried to control his irritation. He needed less input and more silence. He exhaled and ran his hand through his hair. Sara slipped the nearly empty bottle of his water into his free hand. He flinched slightly but nodded gratefully before taking a drink.
She said nothing. God, he appreciated that right now.
"Mr. Grissom, it's getting fairly late," Thomas added and Sara checked her watch. 4:30. The sun would set in two and a half hours. They had to get the body out of there fast.
"Yes, it is," he snapped, "But Ms. Sidle and I will not be leaving until we have processed all of the evidence."
"What about me?" the officer asked.
"I need you to call this boy's name in and find out if he's missing. Make sure that no one gives information to the media. And under no circumstances is anyone to get into this canyon until we're through."
Officer Collins called his partner. He would watch the canyon entrance and his partner would contact another deputy at the station to find the family.
"Are you finished with the body?" he asked and Sara nodded.
He sighed and walked to the coroners, "David, you and Gary can bag the body and get moving. You don't have too much daylight, and we don't want you carrying down a body bag in the dark."
The officer and the ranger were now both chattering into their two way radios. The noise was blurring together in his mind. It was his hearing again, not gone this time, but confused. He needed silence.
Be careful what you wish for.
Grissom called Brass and asked him to come down to the park for possible interviews. Brass let him know that Warrick and Nick were tied up with a hold up at one of the small off-strip casinos. That was fine. There wasn't enough time to get a third CSI up in this canyon anyway.
Ranger Rhonesby brushed off his sinewy arms and approached Grissom, "We have a few hikers at the station, but there is someone in trouble east of here."
"More dehydration?" Grissom asked, incredulous at the number of inexperienced hikers out in this weather.
"Nope, this time it's a regular. Someone took a tumble and might have a fractured leg. His partner went to the station for help.
"So, who's the help?" Grissom asked, "You seem a bit short staffed for crisis day."
Thomas raised his hand with an apologetic smile. "He's closer to me than the station and his buddy is on his way back with a two way. I'll pick him up on my way down and my partner will head up to get you when I reach the station. Do you feel alright with that?"
Grissom nodded, "That's fine. Detective Brass will be there shortly. He has our number."
Before he knew it they were gone. Their scuffling shoes, hissing radios and jingling keys were marching further and further away until at last, they were out of sight.
Alone at last.
But he wasn't supposed to be alone. Suddenly he realized that Sara was not with him. He spun around and found her crouched dutifully near the crime scene. She had already cast one of the footprints.
"Where did you get the water for the plaster?" he asked as he approached.
"There are four liters in that pack. I think Ranger Rhonesby was a little too prepared."
She leaned back to squat on her heels and smiled up at him. His stomach did a nose dive for his knees and he felt like smacking himself. This was no California seminar, and she could not be the teacher's pet anymore.
Get a grip, Gil.
"We should photograph these footprints," he said coolly.
"Done," she said and her grin spread even wider, as if his tone wasn't rigid in the least, "While you were busy delegating to the good old boys, I took care of our crime scene."
She was being playful. It was like a reminder of old times, days that seemed faded at the edges like a favorite photograph. His lips curved upward of their own will.
"Since you appear to be in control, what's next?"
"Follow," she commanded pointing up the canyon where the footprints led.
They walked along in the heat, enjoying the silence and marking and photographing the footprints along the way. The prints followed a steady line. Slowly the steps pulled them towards the canyon wall and Sara noticed more petroglyphs.
She paused and snapped a picture.
"What do you suppose they're for?" she asked, studying the strange bowed figure and curved lines.
"No one knows for sure," he said, his face very close to her own.
"I think these people were committed to making things known," she said.
They moved along the path while the shadows grew long and dark in the canyon. The day was wearing into dusk.
Chapter 7:
Grissom tilted his head upwards and tried to control his irritation. He needed less input and more silence. He exhaled and ran his hand through his hair. Sara slipped the nearly empty bottle of his water into his free hand. He flinched slightly but nodded gratefully before taking a drink.
She said nothing. God, he appreciated that right now.
"Mr. Grissom, it's getting fairly late," Thomas added and Sara checked her watch. 4:30. The sun would set in two and a half hours. They had to get the body out of there fast.
"Yes, it is," he snapped, "But Ms. Sidle and I will not be leaving until we have processed all of the evidence."
"What about me?" the officer asked.
"I need you to call this boy's name in and find out if he's missing. Make sure that no one gives information to the media. And under no circumstances is anyone to get into this canyon until we're through."
Officer Collins called his partner. He would watch the canyon entrance and his partner would contact another deputy at the station to find the family.
"Are you finished with the body?" he asked and Sara nodded.
He sighed and walked to the coroners, "David, you and Gary can bag the body and get moving. You don't have too much daylight, and we don't want you carrying down a body bag in the dark."
The officer and the ranger were now both chattering into their two way radios. The noise was blurring together in his mind. It was his hearing again, not gone this time, but confused. He needed silence.
Be careful what you wish for.
Grissom called Brass and asked him to come down to the park for possible interviews. Brass let him know that Warrick and Nick were tied up with a hold up at one of the small off-strip casinos. That was fine. There wasn't enough time to get a third CSI up in this canyon anyway.
Ranger Rhonesby brushed off his sinewy arms and approached Grissom, "We have a few hikers at the station, but there is someone in trouble east of here."
"More dehydration?" Grissom asked, incredulous at the number of inexperienced hikers out in this weather.
"Nope, this time it's a regular. Someone took a tumble and might have a fractured leg. His partner went to the station for help.
"So, who's the help?" Grissom asked, "You seem a bit short staffed for crisis day."
Thomas raised his hand with an apologetic smile. "He's closer to me than the station and his buddy is on his way back with a two way. I'll pick him up on my way down and my partner will head up to get you when I reach the station. Do you feel alright with that?"
Grissom nodded, "That's fine. Detective Brass will be there shortly. He has our number."
Before he knew it they were gone. Their scuffling shoes, hissing radios and jingling keys were marching further and further away until at last, they were out of sight.
Alone at last.
But he wasn't supposed to be alone. Suddenly he realized that Sara was not with him. He spun around and found her crouched dutifully near the crime scene. She had already cast one of the footprints.
"Where did you get the water for the plaster?" he asked as he approached.
"There are four liters in that pack. I think Ranger Rhonesby was a little too prepared."
She leaned back to squat on her heels and smiled up at him. His stomach did a nose dive for his knees and he felt like smacking himself. This was no California seminar, and she could not be the teacher's pet anymore.
Get a grip, Gil.
"We should photograph these footprints," he said coolly.
"Done," she said and her grin spread even wider, as if his tone wasn't rigid in the least, "While you were busy delegating to the good old boys, I took care of our crime scene."
She was being playful. It was like a reminder of old times, days that seemed faded at the edges like a favorite photograph. His lips curved upward of their own will.
"Since you appear to be in control, what's next?"
"Follow," she commanded pointing up the canyon where the footprints led.
They walked along in the heat, enjoying the silence and marking and photographing the footprints along the way. The prints followed a steady line. Slowly the steps pulled them towards the canyon wall and Sara noticed more petroglyphs.
She paused and snapped a picture.
"What do you suppose they're for?" she asked, studying the strange bowed figure and curved lines.
"No one knows for sure," he said, his face very close to her own.
"I think these people were committed to making things known," she said.
They moved along the path while the shadows grew long and dark in the canyon. The day was wearing into dusk.