Chapter Three



"So, what did Susanne say?" She leaned against the counter and watched him as he carefully put the freshly washed breakfast dishes away.


Closing the cabinet door, he turned around and folded his arms across his chest. "Well...she explained Peter's vampirism...and the fact that he had gone against the advice of his...mentor, for a lack of a better word..."


She cocked an eyebrow at him and silently urged him to continue.


"Lucas Franklin advised him to keep his...condition...quiet. For safety reasons." He slowly walked past her and took hold of her hand, leading her into the living room.


"And...he didn't..."


He shook his head slowly. "Now, he's dead."


He sat down on the brown leather sofa and pulled her down beside of him before reaching for the file that she had brought along with her. Pulling the photographs out, he carefully spread them across the coffee table in front of them.


"So, have you talked to this Lucas?"


With another shake of his head, he lifted a photograph to better examine it. "Killed in a car accident three weeks ago."


She was silent for a moment as she looked over the pictures. "How many people had he told?"


"No idea. She said that Peter didn't want to hide who he was."


"Hate crime of a different genre..."


He turned to look at her, a silent question in his eyes.


"Well, I've handled cases dealing with racial prejudice, violence against homosexuals, hate based on religious backgrounds...but...this...Grissom, this is definitely...different..."


"I believe her." His eyes never left hers, searching them for acceptance of his statement.


She nodded in agreement and pulled out another folder from her bag and handed it to him. "So do I."


He opened the folder and smiled as he looked through the numerous articles. "Someone's been researching..."


"Have to know what we're dealing with...right?"


"Okay...theory?" He looked at her, his blue eyes sparkling in the light.


"He knew the person well. It wasn't merely an acquaintance."


He grinned and looked back at the pictures. "Nothing was moved, nothing was taken. Respect for the residents, perhaps...respect for Susanne?"


She nodded and continued with her thoughts. "I don't think it was pre-meditated. In all likelihood, the person had just found out...and...snapped."


"Neither Peter nor Susanne had a gun in the house."


"Used his own gun...gang banger, drug dealer...carried it for his own protection..."


He picked up a picture of Peter and studied it carefully. "The Marsdens don't strike me as the type of people to consort with gang bangers or drug dealers..."


She nodded in agreement. "By all accounts, he was a good kid." She thought for a moment and turned to look at him. "Where did he work?"


He pulled out the file and read quickly. "B'More Security, 1928 Western Avenue...he worked in the office."


"That would explain why HE didn't have a gun...but, the guards there do..."


He looked at her and nodded. "Are you tired?"


She shook her head and smiled.


"Want to go find out who he talked to at work?"


She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips and reached across him, grabbing the keys to his Tahoe from the end table. "I'll drive..."


~~~~~~~~~~~~


After a brief detour to pick up Brass, they were quickly on their way.


"God, don't you CSI's ever sleep?"


Grissom glanced at Sara before turning to look in the back seat. "Did you when you were one of us?"


"Actually...yes, I did..."


Pulling into the parking lot and shutting off the engine, Sara looked at Brass. "Well, I don't...and...we're here. Let's go."


"Demanding, isn't she?"


Grissom grinned as he climbed out of the Tahoe. "Yeah, she can be..."


Brass shook his head as he followed Grissom closely. "And, that's possibly more than I need to know..."


The three walked into the building and Brass walked up to the window, flashing his credentials. "Captain Jim Brass, Las Vegas PD...I need to speak with the person in charge around here, please..."


The receptionist looked up at him and nodded quickly, giving Grissom and Sara a quick glance. "Yes, sir..."


As the woman behind the glass picked up the phone, Brass turned to Grissom with a smile on his face. "You know...sometimes, I just feel so powerful..."


Sara rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall. Grissom gave him a small smile. "Amazing what a badge can do..."


Brass chuckled and then turned his attention back to the blonde who was hanging up the phone. "Mr. Thiery will be right out, sir."


"Thank you."


A moment later, the door opened and a tall dark-haired man walked into the lobby. "Captain Brass?"


Brass extended his hand towards the gentleman. "That would be me..."


"I'm Mike Thiery, can I help you?"


"Well, I hope so." Gesturing to the two standing behind him, he continued. "This is Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle from Criminalistics. They're investigating the homicide of one of your employees."


"Peter..." The man's face dropped. "Come in my office, please..."


The followed Mr. Thiery through the halls, Grissom and Sara taking in everyone's reaction to their presence. One certain individual seemed particularly nervous. Grissom glanced at Sara to see if she had noticed it as well. She returned his glance quickly, giving him his answer. Of course, she did...did you think she wouldn't?


As they entered his office, Mr. Thiery closed the door behind them. "Please...have a seat." Waiting until all three individuals had been seated, he sat down behind his desk. "How can I help you?"


Grissom watched the man closely as Sara began to question him. "Mr. Thiery, had Peter been experiencing any problems lately at work?"


He shook his head slowly. "No...no, Peter was an exemplary employee. Extremely punctual, effective in his work...personally, I wish I had more employees like him. He was a very eager young man. Always wanting to help others. Everyone liked him..."


Grissom narrowed his eyes slightly and then relaxed. "Not everyone, Mr. Thiery. Someone murdered him."


Thiery looked at Grissom cautiously as Sara asked him another question. "When was the last time you saw him?"


"About 5:30 last night. He was getting ready to leave and had stopped in the parking lot to talk to Ben."


"Ben?"


"Yes. Ben Garrett. He's one of the guards here."


Grissom looked at Brass quickly. Knowing full well what Grissom was thinking, Brass directed his attention towards the man behind the desk. "Mr. Thiery, we're going to need to speak with Mr. Garrett."


The man nodded. "Of course." He pulled up the work schedule on his computer and scanned it quickly. "He's currently on the grounds. I'll have him paged."