Chapter Six
Fresh from their shower after five hours of sleep, he sat on the bed and watched her get dressed as he buttoned his shirt. He silently wished that he could just take her back to bed and...
"Gil?"
His eyes refocused on her face and he returned her smile. "Yeah?"
"Didn't hear a word I said, did you?"
He chuckled softly and shook his head. "No, but...my hearing's fine...I was just...thinking."
"And...not about the case, I take it..." She walked slowly to him and ran her fingers through his drying curls.
"No...what were you saying?" His hands fought the urge to grab her hips and pull her down. Instead, he made himself stand beside of her.
She placed a soft kiss on his lips before she turned and walked to the nightstand, picking up her cellphone and sliding it into her jacket pocket. "What do you think about Carl Garrett?"
He mimicked her movements and slid his own phone into his pocket and turned to look at her. "Guilty."
She nodded slowly in agreement. "He had a broken tooth..."
"Yeah, I noticed." He followed her out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the living room. "Slightly swollen lip...no bruising..."
She shrugged as she picked up the keys to the Tahoe and tossed them to him. "Could be slow to bruise...like someone else I know..."
He grinned and opened the door for her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
They walked up the walkway to the door of the duplex and stood there for a moment. Clearing his thoughts, Grissom broke the seal on the door and held it open for Sara. They walked slowly through the hall, pausing briefly to look into the kitchen.
Sara took a deep breath and continued down the hall, coming to a stop in the middle of the living room. Grissom walked to the mantle and turned to look at Sara.
"So, Sidle..."
She nodded slowly. "Okay...let's do it..."
He smiled as they began to piece the puzzle together.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ben glanced at the clock on the wall and stood up quickly. "Dammit!"
Peter smiled at his friend and set his can of Coke on the coffee table. "You're late, buddy..."
"I know!" He hurriedly grabbed his belongings and turned to his brother. "You coming?"
Carl shook his head with a grin. "No...I thought I'd hang around for a bit...I'll see if Susanne will give me a ride home when she gets here."
Ben nodded quickly and said his goodbyes before rushing out the door.
Peter made idle small talk with the young man sitting in the chair across from him. He didn't really know Carl that well. He seemed like a good enough guy...
Peter stood and walked towards the hall. Turning back, he glanced at Carl once more before making his way to the kitchen. His sneakers squeaked lightly against the linoleum as he pivoted around the bar.
Opening the cabinet, he pulled out a shot glass and placed it on the marbelized countertop. Kneeling down, he jerked open a drawer and pulled out one of the vials that Susanne had left for him. He popped the seal and poured the contents into the glass. He stood staring at the dark fluid, his mouth almost watering in anticipation. His body craving, aching to be fed.
"What the hell?!"
Peter's eyes shot up from the glass to meet the bewildered stare of Carl. "Uh..."
Carl's eyes shifted to the empty vial resting on the counter and back to the glass before meeting Peter's again. "What the hell is that?"
"Look...Carl...there's something you should know..."
"Tell me that's wine...just...thick wine...packaged..." He shook his head, trying to make sense of the scene in front of him.
"Carl...it's not wine, it's...well, it's blood..."
Carl stared at Peter. "Blood? Why...what..."
Peter smiled shyly and shifted his weight nervously. "I...uh...there's really no easy way to say this..."
"Say what?"
"Well...I'm..." He looked into Carl's eyes. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I'm...a vampire..."
He watched Carl carefully. He watched as the confusion spread across his features. He listened as Carl began to chuckle softly. He listened as the chuckle grew into laughter. "Okay..."
He shook his head slowly. "No, Carl...I'm serious..."
Carl stared into Peter's eyes, searching for the joke. Seeing only the reality of Peter's confession, he took a step back.
Peter began to walk around the counter towards him. "Carl...listen..."
"No...man...stay away from me..."
Carl found himself backing away, his fear consuming him. Peter continued to walk towards him. Carl's fear was quickly nearing panic as he re-entered the living room. He stumbled over the ottoman and fought to keep his balance. Peter grabbed his arm to keep him from falling.
Panic coursed through Carl's body, quickly turning to anger. His right fist swung out and caught Peter in the jaw. The surprise of the action caused him to release Carl's arm. His balance lost, he fell over the ottoman, his mouth colliding with the coffee table.
Peter stood there, dazed and wiping the blood from his mouth. Carl found his footing quicker than he expected and glanced at the mantle. Seeing Ben's gun lying there, he grabbed it and spun around. Glaring at the man in front of him, he took a step forward.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Peter's eyes widened and he took a step backwards. "I was just...I was just trying to help you..."
Carl pointed the gun in Peter's direction. "Help me what? Give you my blood? You're a freak...a fucking freak!"
Peter continued to move backwards down the hall, talking calmly. "Carl, no...I just didn't want you to get hurt."
"You broke my fucking tooth!"
Peter's fear settled in the pit of his stomach when he realized he was standing in the kitchen. With Carl in front of him. Waving a gun at him. And...he had no way out.
He began talking again, trying to assure Carl that he meant no harm. "It was an accident...I was just trying to keep you from falling..."
"You PUSHED me!"
"No...no, Carl...I didn't..."
"Now, I'm a liar? The freak is calling me a liar?!"
"I'm not a freak, Carl..." Peter took a step forward.
"Don't come near me!"
Another step forward. "Carl, listen to me..."
"STOP!"
"Carl..." One more step.
The gunshot echoed throughout the house.
Carl stood in shock as he watched Peter's body crumple to the floor. His face. Dear God. What did I do?
He stood motionless for what seemed to be an eternity. His mind was racing. Wait...he deserved it. He tried to...he was...he was coming after me. He was a freak.
He shoved the gun into the waistband of his jeans and looked around the room. He watched the blood spread out around Peter's body. He glanced back towards the living room. I can't clean it up. There's too much. He looked back at the lifeless body on the floor and kicked the leg with the toe of his boot. Fucking freak.
His mind began to slow down, to formulate an idea. If he told me...he's told other people. He was a freak...people don't like freaks...people hurt freaks...
He glanced at the counter and grabbed the dishtowel that was lying there. Kneeling beside of Peter, he dipped the towel into the warm blood and smiled. Running back down the hall, he made his way to the wall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Grissom and Sara stood before the wall staring at the offending word written in blood.
Sara turned to Grissom and sighed. "So...we need to search his residence for Ben's gun..."
"And we have prints, impressions, a tooth fragment...if they match Carl Garrett..."
Sara nodded slowly. "Evidence never lies."