Chapter Sixteen: Doors
"Catherine? What is it?" Grissom asked.
"I.um, er.nothing! I. I." Catherine's eyes flittered from one person to another. "I have to talk to Warrick," she said, pulling him out into the hallway.
Nick raised his eyebrow slightly and Sara opened her mouth, but no one followed Catherine and Warrick.
Out in the hall, Catherine hissed at Warrick, "She's dead!"
"Excuse me?" Warrick said, taken aback. "Who?"
"Rivers! Jillian Rivers! The owner!"
"Catherine."
"In her office.a chair. A chair that.and the smell! The smell!"
Warrick's eyes widened; he knew the smell, too.
"We've got to get her! Let's call Brass and go - "
"No!" Catherine hissed, grabbing Warrick's arm. "We went into her private office illegally and we can't just admit it!"
"What are we going to do then?" Warrick demanded. "We cant' just leave her there!"
"We - we." Catherine stopped and took a breath, trying to calm herself down. "We have to find a way to get someone into her office."
"Well," Warrick began thoughtfully, "she is missing, right?"
"Right." said Catherine, not sure what he was proposing.
"We could search her office in an attempt to locate her or figure out where she might have gone."
"Alright, but do you think the manager will go for that?"
"Sure," Warrick replied gravely. "When we tell him the Rivers fits the profile."
They glanced into the break room. Three pairs of eyes were staring intently at them, trying to follow the conversation. Catherine met Warrick's eyes and walked back into the room. The three colleagues they had left looked at them expectantly.
"We should begin a search for Rivers," Warrick said after a moment of uncomfortable silence.
"She fits the profile and she's missing."
"Care to enlighten us as to the nature of your private conversation?" asked Nick.
"No," answered Catherine shortly.
"Alright," Grissom said. "We'll look for her. What do you suggest, Catherine?"
"Well, we could search her home and her office for any clue as to where she went prior to her flight."
"Fine," said Grissom, and he picked up his cell phone. Brass arrived in ten minutes.
"The manager, Blaine, agreed to file a missing persons report."
"Shouldn't someone close to her do that?" Nick asked.
"Yes, but she doesn't have any family and there are no friends we know of," Brass said.
"Blaine told us that Rivers worked the night before and that's the last time he saw her. He left before she did; she was doing some paperwork - bills or something, he's unsure. No one saw her after nine o'clock that night, and she was never at the airport," Grissom informed the group. "We're going to her office first."
Blaine was in the hotel lobby waiting for them, along with Conner, the security guard. "I'll let you in," Conner said, holding up a large key ring.
"You must be able to open every door in this place with all those keys," Catherine commented.
"Yup," Conner confirmed. "Only use about three though. They're mostly for emergencies - a safety net of sorts."
"Of course," said Catherine as they approached the 'Employees Only' door.
"Here we are," said Conner, pushing through the door. He reached out with a key to unlock the office, but the door was already slightly ajar.
"That's odd," Conner said. "She keeps this office locked up tight."
"Don't touch anything," Grissom said quickly. "This might turn into a crime scene pretty fast."
Slipping into the room, the three CSIs all stopped suddenly. The smell. Grissom flicked on the lights. The office looked normal enough, but.
Everyone's attention was on the chair. They all had a pretty good idea what was there, but no one wanted to see it. Brass stepped forward first and went around the desk to see if anything - anyone - was in the chair. He slowly walked over to the chair. He let out his breath.
"Nope," he said simply.
"No?" Catherine asked, aghast. I know she's here! The smell! She has to be here!
"Good," Blaine said. "What a relief! I was so worried about her! I mean, sometimes she can be so." Blaine kept chattering on, but Warrick was looking past him, into the hall.
"Conner, what's behind the rest of these doors?"
"The two manager's offices and a supply closet. Not much."
"We'll need to see them," Warrick said.
"Okay." Conner backed out into the hallway and unlocked the next door. "Megan Conroy's office. She's in charge of the staff. She's out of town this week too."
"A manager and the owner out of town at the same time?" Grissom asked.
"Megan had a death in the family and Ms. Rivers couldn't change her plans. We don't normally do things this way," Blaine explained quickly.
Warrick had slipped into the office and he reappeared in the hallway. "Nothing out of the ordinary," he reported.
"Supply closet," Conner said, unlocking the next door.
Catherine went in. "Nope," she said from inside. "Nothing." She reappeared in the hallway.
"Mr. Blaine's office," announced Conner, unlocking and opening the last door.
Grissom slipped into the room quietly and the rest of the group remained silent in the hallway. Several minutes later, Grissom appeared. "Mr. Blaine," he began, "how much time do you spend in your office?"
Blaine blushed slightly. "I don't use it much. My home office is much - for lack of a better descriptor - homier, and I prefer to work there. Plus, I'm usually very busy during the day and I don't like to stay late like Ms. Rivers. I'd rather go home. I haven't been in my office for months now."
"I hope you can back that statement up," Grissom said.
"What? Why?"
"Ms. Rivers is dead. She is seated in your office chair."
"Mr. Jones," Sara said, "what is your first name?"
"Excuse me?"
"What is your first name?" Sara repeated slowly, as if talking to a very young child.
"Edward.I'm sure you knew that."
"Do you have your birth certificate?"
"No.I've never had my birth certificate. I had a bad family life."
"Right." Sara said skeptically. She knew you needed your birth certificate as proof of identity for just about everything. "But, for the sake of argument, if you did have your birth certificate, what would it say?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand the relevance."
"Let me put it this way, Mr. Jones. Did you ever change your name?"
"Yes."
"What was your birth name, Mr. Jones?"
"I only changed my name to separate myself from my family! I've done nothing wrong! I don't even know why I'm here!"
"You didn't answer the question," Sara pointed out.
"I demand a lawyer."
"Fine," Sara said, exasperated. She looked at the mirrored window, which she knew hid Nick as well as Elisabeth and Kyle. "Mr. Jones," she began, "would you consider talking to someone else before your lawyer arrives?"
Mr. Jones just looked at her.
"Like, for instance, one of your siblings?"
"What?"
"You do have siblings, don't you?" Sara asked.
"I - "
"Would you like to speak with them?"
"I - "
"They would like to speak with you."
"I - "
"Mr. Jones, could you please answer my question?"
"I - "
"Mr. Jones."
He nodded his head slowly. Sara gestured for Nick to bring Elisabeth and Kyle in. The door opened and they walked in quietly. Mr. Jones just stared at them with a kind of dull awe.
"Hello, James," said Elisabeth.
"Isabelle?" he whispered. He turned to his brother. "Kyle?"
"Yep," Kyle said. "I can't believe it! After all these years! I thought you were dead!" He smiled at Edward, who just looked at them both blankly.
"How long have you worked at the hotel?" Kyle asked.
"Um, ten years," Edward mumbled.
"Is it nice? I've never been there. Heard a lot about the place recently though."
"It's a good working environment. Nice people."
"Good, good. So, do you know anything about the murders?"
"Sure, it's all over the news."
"Doesn't it make you nervous to go to work?" Elisabeth asked.
"Not really. I'm not in any danger, plus this is Vegas. There's always some psycho waiting in the shadows. I don't let it bother me any more."
"It bothers me," Elisabeth mumbled.
"They think the murderer works at the hotel. Does that bother you?" Kyle asked.
"A little. I mean, I don't really know that many of the people who work at the hotel. I just know my boss, you know? I'm not very social."
"Right."
Sara and Nick both got up and left the room, leaving the three to talk among themselves.
"I don't think he knows anymore than he's telling us," Sara said. "I'll go do a background check."
Nick nodded and went to watch the Fieldings through the mirror.
"I didn't kill her! I didn't do it! Please don't arrest me! I swear, I'm innocent!" Blaine screeched.
"Calm down," Catherine spat, fed up.
"We don't have evidence against you, Blaine. We can't hold you," Brass explained.
"I didn't kill anyone!"
"So you've said."
"Brass, the lights?" Grissom called from the interior of Blaine's small office.
The blood stains that were revealed showed plainly that the body had been dragged into the office. Following the patterns of blood out into the hall, Grissom found that the body had been dragged from Rivers' office into Blaine's.
"Alright, Blaine," Warrick said as Catherine and Grissom looked for more evidence. "Who has access to your office?"
"Um, well.I have a key, and security and janitorial staff members have a key. and Ms. Rivers did too. But that's all."
"Mm," said Warrick, and he turned away from Blaine and went into Rivers' office. Carefully he dug through her desk drawers until he found what he was looking for - a key. The label was a small piece of masking tape that said, in red marker, 'Blaine.' The key shone as if it had just be polished, and it probably had, Warrick reasoned, if the killer had used it to gain access to Blaine's office.
"What - what's going on? What will happen to the hotel?!" Blaine cried.
"I assume it will be temporarily closed so you can sort out the legal issues at hand," Grissom said.
"C-closed?"
"Yes."
"Closed!" Blaine moaned, cradling his head in his hands.
"Every room?" Sara asked in disbelief.
"Yes," Grissom said firmly. "Now that the hotel is closed, we can search every room efficiently. If the murderer works at the hotel, it may be where he disposes of the evidence. Start with the offices. Guest rooms last."
They went to work. They were determined to find something - anything - that would lead them to the killer. Sara was searching Blaine's office again and found a short black hair under the desk. Nick examined the carpet in Ms. Rivers' office. Warrick found a pink thread stuck in the doorjamb to Blaine's office. Grissom looked around the laundry room and found towels that had been soaked in blood before they were washed clean. Catherine checked the security room. She found wires that had been tampered with, as they suspected, and decided to check for fingerprints. Working carefully, Catherine gasped when she found a print near the wires. She'd hadn't been expecting anything because the killer usually wiped everything clean. Could it be? she thought. Is this him? The killer?
"Catherine? What is it?" Grissom asked.
"I.um, er.nothing! I. I." Catherine's eyes flittered from one person to another. "I have to talk to Warrick," she said, pulling him out into the hallway.
Nick raised his eyebrow slightly and Sara opened her mouth, but no one followed Catherine and Warrick.
Out in the hall, Catherine hissed at Warrick, "She's dead!"
"Excuse me?" Warrick said, taken aback. "Who?"
"Rivers! Jillian Rivers! The owner!"
"Catherine."
"In her office.a chair. A chair that.and the smell! The smell!"
Warrick's eyes widened; he knew the smell, too.
"We've got to get her! Let's call Brass and go - "
"No!" Catherine hissed, grabbing Warrick's arm. "We went into her private office illegally and we can't just admit it!"
"What are we going to do then?" Warrick demanded. "We cant' just leave her there!"
"We - we." Catherine stopped and took a breath, trying to calm herself down. "We have to find a way to get someone into her office."
"Well," Warrick began thoughtfully, "she is missing, right?"
"Right." said Catherine, not sure what he was proposing.
"We could search her office in an attempt to locate her or figure out where she might have gone."
"Alright, but do you think the manager will go for that?"
"Sure," Warrick replied gravely. "When we tell him the Rivers fits the profile."
They glanced into the break room. Three pairs of eyes were staring intently at them, trying to follow the conversation. Catherine met Warrick's eyes and walked back into the room. The three colleagues they had left looked at them expectantly.
"We should begin a search for Rivers," Warrick said after a moment of uncomfortable silence.
"She fits the profile and she's missing."
"Care to enlighten us as to the nature of your private conversation?" asked Nick.
"No," answered Catherine shortly.
"Alright," Grissom said. "We'll look for her. What do you suggest, Catherine?"
"Well, we could search her home and her office for any clue as to where she went prior to her flight."
"Fine," said Grissom, and he picked up his cell phone. Brass arrived in ten minutes.
"The manager, Blaine, agreed to file a missing persons report."
"Shouldn't someone close to her do that?" Nick asked.
"Yes, but she doesn't have any family and there are no friends we know of," Brass said.
"Blaine told us that Rivers worked the night before and that's the last time he saw her. He left before she did; she was doing some paperwork - bills or something, he's unsure. No one saw her after nine o'clock that night, and she was never at the airport," Grissom informed the group. "We're going to her office first."
Blaine was in the hotel lobby waiting for them, along with Conner, the security guard. "I'll let you in," Conner said, holding up a large key ring.
"You must be able to open every door in this place with all those keys," Catherine commented.
"Yup," Conner confirmed. "Only use about three though. They're mostly for emergencies - a safety net of sorts."
"Of course," said Catherine as they approached the 'Employees Only' door.
"Here we are," said Conner, pushing through the door. He reached out with a key to unlock the office, but the door was already slightly ajar.
"That's odd," Conner said. "She keeps this office locked up tight."
"Don't touch anything," Grissom said quickly. "This might turn into a crime scene pretty fast."
Slipping into the room, the three CSIs all stopped suddenly. The smell. Grissom flicked on the lights. The office looked normal enough, but.
Everyone's attention was on the chair. They all had a pretty good idea what was there, but no one wanted to see it. Brass stepped forward first and went around the desk to see if anything - anyone - was in the chair. He slowly walked over to the chair. He let out his breath.
"Nope," he said simply.
"No?" Catherine asked, aghast. I know she's here! The smell! She has to be here!
"Good," Blaine said. "What a relief! I was so worried about her! I mean, sometimes she can be so." Blaine kept chattering on, but Warrick was looking past him, into the hall.
"Conner, what's behind the rest of these doors?"
"The two manager's offices and a supply closet. Not much."
"We'll need to see them," Warrick said.
"Okay." Conner backed out into the hallway and unlocked the next door. "Megan Conroy's office. She's in charge of the staff. She's out of town this week too."
"A manager and the owner out of town at the same time?" Grissom asked.
"Megan had a death in the family and Ms. Rivers couldn't change her plans. We don't normally do things this way," Blaine explained quickly.
Warrick had slipped into the office and he reappeared in the hallway. "Nothing out of the ordinary," he reported.
"Supply closet," Conner said, unlocking the next door.
Catherine went in. "Nope," she said from inside. "Nothing." She reappeared in the hallway.
"Mr. Blaine's office," announced Conner, unlocking and opening the last door.
Grissom slipped into the room quietly and the rest of the group remained silent in the hallway. Several minutes later, Grissom appeared. "Mr. Blaine," he began, "how much time do you spend in your office?"
Blaine blushed slightly. "I don't use it much. My home office is much - for lack of a better descriptor - homier, and I prefer to work there. Plus, I'm usually very busy during the day and I don't like to stay late like Ms. Rivers. I'd rather go home. I haven't been in my office for months now."
"I hope you can back that statement up," Grissom said.
"What? Why?"
"Ms. Rivers is dead. She is seated in your office chair."
"Mr. Jones," Sara said, "what is your first name?"
"Excuse me?"
"What is your first name?" Sara repeated slowly, as if talking to a very young child.
"Edward.I'm sure you knew that."
"Do you have your birth certificate?"
"No.I've never had my birth certificate. I had a bad family life."
"Right." Sara said skeptically. She knew you needed your birth certificate as proof of identity for just about everything. "But, for the sake of argument, if you did have your birth certificate, what would it say?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand the relevance."
"Let me put it this way, Mr. Jones. Did you ever change your name?"
"Yes."
"What was your birth name, Mr. Jones?"
"I only changed my name to separate myself from my family! I've done nothing wrong! I don't even know why I'm here!"
"You didn't answer the question," Sara pointed out.
"I demand a lawyer."
"Fine," Sara said, exasperated. She looked at the mirrored window, which she knew hid Nick as well as Elisabeth and Kyle. "Mr. Jones," she began, "would you consider talking to someone else before your lawyer arrives?"
Mr. Jones just looked at her.
"Like, for instance, one of your siblings?"
"What?"
"You do have siblings, don't you?" Sara asked.
"I - "
"Would you like to speak with them?"
"I - "
"They would like to speak with you."
"I - "
"Mr. Jones, could you please answer my question?"
"I - "
"Mr. Jones."
He nodded his head slowly. Sara gestured for Nick to bring Elisabeth and Kyle in. The door opened and they walked in quietly. Mr. Jones just stared at them with a kind of dull awe.
"Hello, James," said Elisabeth.
"Isabelle?" he whispered. He turned to his brother. "Kyle?"
"Yep," Kyle said. "I can't believe it! After all these years! I thought you were dead!" He smiled at Edward, who just looked at them both blankly.
"How long have you worked at the hotel?" Kyle asked.
"Um, ten years," Edward mumbled.
"Is it nice? I've never been there. Heard a lot about the place recently though."
"It's a good working environment. Nice people."
"Good, good. So, do you know anything about the murders?"
"Sure, it's all over the news."
"Doesn't it make you nervous to go to work?" Elisabeth asked.
"Not really. I'm not in any danger, plus this is Vegas. There's always some psycho waiting in the shadows. I don't let it bother me any more."
"It bothers me," Elisabeth mumbled.
"They think the murderer works at the hotel. Does that bother you?" Kyle asked.
"A little. I mean, I don't really know that many of the people who work at the hotel. I just know my boss, you know? I'm not very social."
"Right."
Sara and Nick both got up and left the room, leaving the three to talk among themselves.
"I don't think he knows anymore than he's telling us," Sara said. "I'll go do a background check."
Nick nodded and went to watch the Fieldings through the mirror.
"I didn't kill her! I didn't do it! Please don't arrest me! I swear, I'm innocent!" Blaine screeched.
"Calm down," Catherine spat, fed up.
"We don't have evidence against you, Blaine. We can't hold you," Brass explained.
"I didn't kill anyone!"
"So you've said."
"Brass, the lights?" Grissom called from the interior of Blaine's small office.
The blood stains that were revealed showed plainly that the body had been dragged into the office. Following the patterns of blood out into the hall, Grissom found that the body had been dragged from Rivers' office into Blaine's.
"Alright, Blaine," Warrick said as Catherine and Grissom looked for more evidence. "Who has access to your office?"
"Um, well.I have a key, and security and janitorial staff members have a key. and Ms. Rivers did too. But that's all."
"Mm," said Warrick, and he turned away from Blaine and went into Rivers' office. Carefully he dug through her desk drawers until he found what he was looking for - a key. The label was a small piece of masking tape that said, in red marker, 'Blaine.' The key shone as if it had just be polished, and it probably had, Warrick reasoned, if the killer had used it to gain access to Blaine's office.
"What - what's going on? What will happen to the hotel?!" Blaine cried.
"I assume it will be temporarily closed so you can sort out the legal issues at hand," Grissom said.
"C-closed?"
"Yes."
"Closed!" Blaine moaned, cradling his head in his hands.
"Every room?" Sara asked in disbelief.
"Yes," Grissom said firmly. "Now that the hotel is closed, we can search every room efficiently. If the murderer works at the hotel, it may be where he disposes of the evidence. Start with the offices. Guest rooms last."
They went to work. They were determined to find something - anything - that would lead them to the killer. Sara was searching Blaine's office again and found a short black hair under the desk. Nick examined the carpet in Ms. Rivers' office. Warrick found a pink thread stuck in the doorjamb to Blaine's office. Grissom looked around the laundry room and found towels that had been soaked in blood before they were washed clean. Catherine checked the security room. She found wires that had been tampered with, as they suspected, and decided to check for fingerprints. Working carefully, Catherine gasped when she found a print near the wires. She'd hadn't been expecting anything because the killer usually wiped everything clean. Could it be? she thought. Is this him? The killer?