Part 6/?
Catherine pulled up the navy SUV beside the first CSI vehicle.
Sara and Grissom had already been at the crime scene for
close on two hours. Although, she knew, they would have
barely scraped the surface. Multiples made their job more
intensive as they needed to not only work out when, where,
what with and why but also the sequence in which the murders
took place. Sometimes working out the sequence would also
prove the why of the tragic deaths.
The street was quiet and there were no onlookers which didn't
surprise Catherine. The night air was beginning to get chilly,
the unusual rain having brought a cooler change to the humid
climate. She had no doubt that the street had been lined with
curious neighbours earlier. A crime scene drew onlookers like
a cadaver attracted flies.
Catherine slipped on a pair of paper booties over her shoes
and pulled out a pair of latex gloves. Holding them in her right
hand, she grabbed her field kit and walked up the path
towards the house.
"Catherine, glad you finally made it," Brass said as he came
out the front door of the house. "Grissom's upstairs. First
room to the right."
"Right. Thanks, Brass," Catherine said over her shoulder as
she entered the house. She ended up having to back track her
steps for a moment while the coroner's office removed a body
from upstairs.
"Is that the last one?" Catherine asked the tousled haired
coroner's assistant as he judiciously stepped backwards down
the front step.
"Nope," John answered with a sharp shake of his head. "Two
to go."
"Busy night, huh?" Catherine commented. It was unusual that
the bodies were still being removed nearly two hours after the
arrival of the CSIs at a crime scene.
"Yeah. Haven't you noticed the full moon?" John indicated
towards the round, full moon shining brightly, peeking out
from behind the clouds filling the night sky.
Catherine followed his gaze. "Always a sure sign of trouble."
"It sure brings out the weirdos. At least we're on this end of it.
Couldn't imagine being a cop or a medic on a night like this."
"I'm sure the people in your bag would prefer not to have
been on their end of the deal," Catherine reminded him grimly.
"I know." John sent her a cheery grin as he continued with his
job.
Catherine carefully made her way into the hallway and took in
the scene. She avoided the evidence trail and went upstairs.
From the amount of blood on and at the top of the stairs,
Catherine realised that the room Grissom was working in
would not be pretty.
"Hey, Gil. You called..." Catherine drawled, as she put down
her field kit beside Grissom's in the girls' bedroom.
"Yeah, we need more hands on deck," he responded,
indicating the crime scene. He was crouched over a pool of
congealing blood, collecting samples for analysis.
"What a mess," Catherine commented, her eyes slowly
absorbing the amount of blood and gore coating the floor and
walls of the room. "What did they use? A shotgun?"
"Something of that magnitude," Grissom said as he sealed the
small vial containing the sample. "Sara has also suggested a
couple of smaller loadings which can produce the same high
velocity trauma."
"She would," Catherine responded, trace of sarcasm lacing her
tone.
Grissom turned his head sharply at the tone. "Where's that
comment come from?"
"Dissecting Sara from her computer is almost like conducting
an amputation," Catherine responded dryly.
A smile tugged at the edges of Grissom's mouth. He had to
agree with Catherine on that point. The amount of information
that Sara managed to scour through her computer searches
was amazing.
"How did she take what you said?" Catherine asked, bending
down beside him.
"We haven't talked yet," Grissom said shortly, avoiding
meeting Catherine's eyes. He spied a hair mixed in with the
blood; it was short, dark and curly, unlike that of the victim.
"What're you waiting for?"
"An appropriate time to discuss it. This," Grissom indicated to
the scene around him with the tweezers in his hand, "is not the
right time."
Catherine didn't bother even to respond to his reasoning.
Instead, she rewarded him with a withering look.
Grissom returned her gaze, his mouth slightly twisted. "I'm
going to speak with Sara. Tonight is not the right time. She is
running on adrenalin alone."
"How's she coping?"
"The usual. It's not the first time Sara has worked like this."
Grissom thought of the occasions when the toll of the extensive
hours she put into an investigation had her falling asleep at her
computer terminal or in the lounge. It was only when she
slowed down for a break that the tiredness seemed to hit her.
He hoped that the pattern would continue with this case.
"It's the first time you have been worried about her though,"
Catherine reminded him quietly.
Grissom couldn't disagree with her there. It had been Sara's
close association with the victim that concerned him. He
should have recognised the signs earlier; he had overheard the
whispered promise in the hospital. The overhelming need to
give the victim an identity, a past before she died, should have
registered with him. He had worked with Sara often enough to
know that this was not how she would react normally.
Something was wrong and he'd ignored all the pointers.
"Anyway, you wanted me on this crime scene. What do you
want me to do?" Catherine knew that this scene was going to
take many more hours of investigation. The fact that the
victims had not all been shot in the one area immediately
making the task more complicated.
"There's the study to still be done. We've only done a
prelim," Grissom told her. "I'd also like you to do an analysis
of the crime scene. Find out the sequence and then we may
know the who and why."
Catherine frowned at his comment, her brow furrowing. "So,
taking a guess, the father in the study with a rifle."
"Father and study correct, 9mm Luger was the weapon of
choice." Grissom informed her succinctly, raising his eyebrows
at her as he labelled another evidence bag.
"But these injuries aren't consistent with a Luger," Catherine
stated, pursing her lips together as she looked around the room
again.
"Begs the question, doesn't it?"
"So it might not be a murder-suicide."
A gunshot resounded in the silence. Grissom paled, instantly
remembering how Holly Gribbs had come to lose her life. His
earlier concern for Sara immediately had him frozen, worried
that Sara had suffered the same fate.
"What the hell?" Catherine turned quickly, drawing her gun
from her holster, trying to determine where the shot had come
from.
Grissom followed her out the door, to the top of the stairs.
Basic training had both Grissom and Catherine cautious in their
movements, despite the fact that they wished to run around the
house to ensure that all their team were okay.
They were on the stairs when they saw Brass entering the front
door, his gun drawn. Behind him were two local police
officers, their eyes anxiously searching the room, guns held
tightly in their hands.
"Where did the shot come from?" Brass asked them in a stage
whisper.
"Down here somewhere," Catherine responded, carefully
moving down the stairs, one step at a time.
"Where's Sara?" Brass asked.
"I had her assessing the scene out the back," Grissom
responded, his voice steady, not revealling the fear that
gripped him.
Brass directed the two officers to check the downstairs area of
the house. "Let's check out back. Stay behind me."
End Part 6/?
Catherine pulled up the navy SUV beside the first CSI vehicle.
Sara and Grissom had already been at the crime scene for
close on two hours. Although, she knew, they would have
barely scraped the surface. Multiples made their job more
intensive as they needed to not only work out when, where,
what with and why but also the sequence in which the murders
took place. Sometimes working out the sequence would also
prove the why of the tragic deaths.
The street was quiet and there were no onlookers which didn't
surprise Catherine. The night air was beginning to get chilly,
the unusual rain having brought a cooler change to the humid
climate. She had no doubt that the street had been lined with
curious neighbours earlier. A crime scene drew onlookers like
a cadaver attracted flies.
Catherine slipped on a pair of paper booties over her shoes
and pulled out a pair of latex gloves. Holding them in her right
hand, she grabbed her field kit and walked up the path
towards the house.
"Catherine, glad you finally made it," Brass said as he came
out the front door of the house. "Grissom's upstairs. First
room to the right."
"Right. Thanks, Brass," Catherine said over her shoulder as
she entered the house. She ended up having to back track her
steps for a moment while the coroner's office removed a body
from upstairs.
"Is that the last one?" Catherine asked the tousled haired
coroner's assistant as he judiciously stepped backwards down
the front step.
"Nope," John answered with a sharp shake of his head. "Two
to go."
"Busy night, huh?" Catherine commented. It was unusual that
the bodies were still being removed nearly two hours after the
arrival of the CSIs at a crime scene.
"Yeah. Haven't you noticed the full moon?" John indicated
towards the round, full moon shining brightly, peeking out
from behind the clouds filling the night sky.
Catherine followed his gaze. "Always a sure sign of trouble."
"It sure brings out the weirdos. At least we're on this end of it.
Couldn't imagine being a cop or a medic on a night like this."
"I'm sure the people in your bag would prefer not to have
been on their end of the deal," Catherine reminded him grimly.
"I know." John sent her a cheery grin as he continued with his
job.
Catherine carefully made her way into the hallway and took in
the scene. She avoided the evidence trail and went upstairs.
From the amount of blood on and at the top of the stairs,
Catherine realised that the room Grissom was working in
would not be pretty.
"Hey, Gil. You called..." Catherine drawled, as she put down
her field kit beside Grissom's in the girls' bedroom.
"Yeah, we need more hands on deck," he responded,
indicating the crime scene. He was crouched over a pool of
congealing blood, collecting samples for analysis.
"What a mess," Catherine commented, her eyes slowly
absorbing the amount of blood and gore coating the floor and
walls of the room. "What did they use? A shotgun?"
"Something of that magnitude," Grissom said as he sealed the
small vial containing the sample. "Sara has also suggested a
couple of smaller loadings which can produce the same high
velocity trauma."
"She would," Catherine responded, trace of sarcasm lacing her
tone.
Grissom turned his head sharply at the tone. "Where's that
comment come from?"
"Dissecting Sara from her computer is almost like conducting
an amputation," Catherine responded dryly.
A smile tugged at the edges of Grissom's mouth. He had to
agree with Catherine on that point. The amount of information
that Sara managed to scour through her computer searches
was amazing.
"How did she take what you said?" Catherine asked, bending
down beside him.
"We haven't talked yet," Grissom said shortly, avoiding
meeting Catherine's eyes. He spied a hair mixed in with the
blood; it was short, dark and curly, unlike that of the victim.
"What're you waiting for?"
"An appropriate time to discuss it. This," Grissom indicated to
the scene around him with the tweezers in his hand, "is not the
right time."
Catherine didn't bother even to respond to his reasoning.
Instead, she rewarded him with a withering look.
Grissom returned her gaze, his mouth slightly twisted. "I'm
going to speak with Sara. Tonight is not the right time. She is
running on adrenalin alone."
"How's she coping?"
"The usual. It's not the first time Sara has worked like this."
Grissom thought of the occasions when the toll of the extensive
hours she put into an investigation had her falling asleep at her
computer terminal or in the lounge. It was only when she
slowed down for a break that the tiredness seemed to hit her.
He hoped that the pattern would continue with this case.
"It's the first time you have been worried about her though,"
Catherine reminded him quietly.
Grissom couldn't disagree with her there. It had been Sara's
close association with the victim that concerned him. He
should have recognised the signs earlier; he had overheard the
whispered promise in the hospital. The overhelming need to
give the victim an identity, a past before she died, should have
registered with him. He had worked with Sara often enough to
know that this was not how she would react normally.
Something was wrong and he'd ignored all the pointers.
"Anyway, you wanted me on this crime scene. What do you
want me to do?" Catherine knew that this scene was going to
take many more hours of investigation. The fact that the
victims had not all been shot in the one area immediately
making the task more complicated.
"There's the study to still be done. We've only done a
prelim," Grissom told her. "I'd also like you to do an analysis
of the crime scene. Find out the sequence and then we may
know the who and why."
Catherine frowned at his comment, her brow furrowing. "So,
taking a guess, the father in the study with a rifle."
"Father and study correct, 9mm Luger was the weapon of
choice." Grissom informed her succinctly, raising his eyebrows
at her as he labelled another evidence bag.
"But these injuries aren't consistent with a Luger," Catherine
stated, pursing her lips together as she looked around the room
again.
"Begs the question, doesn't it?"
"So it might not be a murder-suicide."
A gunshot resounded in the silence. Grissom paled, instantly
remembering how Holly Gribbs had come to lose her life. His
earlier concern for Sara immediately had him frozen, worried
that Sara had suffered the same fate.
"What the hell?" Catherine turned quickly, drawing her gun
from her holster, trying to determine where the shot had come
from.
Grissom followed her out the door, to the top of the stairs.
Basic training had both Grissom and Catherine cautious in their
movements, despite the fact that they wished to run around the
house to ensure that all their team were okay.
They were on the stairs when they saw Brass entering the front
door, his gun drawn. Behind him were two local police
officers, their eyes anxiously searching the room, guns held
tightly in their hands.
"Where did the shot come from?" Brass asked them in a stage
whisper.
"Down here somewhere," Catherine responded, carefully
moving down the stairs, one step at a time.
"Where's Sara?" Brass asked.
"I had her assessing the scene out the back," Grissom
responded, his voice steady, not revealling the fear that
gripped him.
Brass directed the two officers to check the downstairs area of
the house. "Let's check out back. Stay behind me."
End Part 6/?