The gates to the controlled access community stood open in the entrance
from Paradise Road, allowing Sara to maneuver the SUV past the fountain and
into the maze of connecting thoroughfares surrounding the apartment
buildings. The sun was bright now at 9:18am, and Grissom thought the three
story buildings shone almost like alabaster from the reflection of light
off the cream stucco exteriors. It had taken a silent twenty minutes to
reach the complex, and Grissom guided Sara through the maze using his
earlier notes from Brass. His mind was beginning to clear, yet he knew he
did not possess his sharp CSI eyesight, which he might need on the this
visit.
Sara parked the SUV behind a cluster of law enforcement vehicles, shifting the engine into park and shutting it off with a quick turn of the key. She reached for the door handle, her swift movements belying her irritation. Grissom cleared his throat. "Sara, wait a moment."
Sara kept her hand on the handle of the door, looking past the steering wheel to the vehicles ahead. "What?"
"I'm sorry. I'm not myself this morning."
"OK."
"No, it's not. I need you to be lead because I'm not focused enough to do it. I'm here because I have to be."
Sara gave him a cool look, measuring his expression and his sincerity. "All right. As lead, I think you can be here." She pulled the handle to open the door and stepped outside the Tahoe, then regarded Grissom with another glance. "Just don't fuck up my crime scene." She slammed the door with force, causing Grissom to wince. He watched her in the sideview mirror as she walked to the back of the vehicle to retrieve her kit. Sighing, he reached for the handle of his door to let himself out into bright morning.
Several officers already stood in the parking lot, milling around and waiting for a sign from someone to work to move to another location. Brass appeared from the group and walked toward Sara and Grissom. "OK, here's what we have—"
"Talk to me, Brass. I'm lead."
Brass raised an eyebrow at Grissom, who raised an eyebrow in response. Brass turned to address Sara. "Colleen Mandel, age 35, gave an ID for the kid. Joey Zucker, 11 years old, foster son. She and her husband Oscar, 37, have another foster kid, Darrell Wilson, age 16."
"Did she notice the younger one missing?" Sara asked, her face somewhat grimaced. Grissom surmised she was already running possible answers through her mind for possible motives, and glanced down at the asphalt beneath his feet. He noticed rubber marks, black, red, and blue, forming lines at various intervals across the sealed gravel.
"She thought Joey was staying with a friend. Says Darrell told her. She works midshift at a hospital as a lab tech. She called the friend's house this morning, found out he wasn't there, and called to file a Missing Persons report."
"Warrick or Nick find the report?"
"No, they went home earlier. One of my guys called me with it."
Sara furrowed her brows, focusing her sight on Brass' lapel. "Anyone talking? Anything suspicious?"
Brass shrugged. "The older kid's nervous, but who knows? We haven't looked around at all. We were waiting for you."
Sara sneaked a glance at Grissom while chewing on her lower lip. "OK. Let's get statements from Mom, Dad, and the kid on whereabouts, the usual. Gris and I will take a look inside and see what we can find." Brass nodded and headed back to the group of officers to hand out assignments for the statements. Sara turned to Grissom, "Let's see if anything sticks out at us. If so, we get all hands on deck. I want this done." She turned her back to Grissom again and began her way to the stairs leading to the second story apartment held by the Mandels. Grissom picked up his kit and followed closely behind her.
Grissom slowly picked his way through the hallway into the small room off the right side. The apartment was a standard two-bedroom, with this room being the smaller of the two. The floor was covered with clothing; the walls were plastered with movie and music posters, torn magazine artwork, and the occasional awkward drawing. A set of oak bunkbeds, the bottom bed full size and the top one twin size, were pushed against the far wall between the window and the closet. Grissom began snapping photos of the room from his vantagepoint in the doorway. A pair of rollerblades were tossed into the open closet, among a jumble of sneakers and a couple pair of Sunday loafers. A desk stood near the door, covered with a few glasses, a crumb-filled plate, a framed picture, and some school papers. Amid the snaps of the camera and the whir of spooling film, Grissom could hear the voices of Sara, Brass, and Mrs. Mandel, as the woman was questioned about her younger foster son's disappearance. He continued taking photos of the items in the room, trying to find any clues to what may have happened to the boy.
Sara completed her talk with Mrs. Mandel, leaving the woman with Brass to finish giving her statement. She turned to the hallway, where she could see Grissom's form in the doorway of the children's bedroom, the flashes of the camera providing backlight into the darkness of the hall. As she began to turn back to Brass, Grissom called out for her.
"Yeah, Gris?"
"I think I see something here."
Sara reached the bedroom and stood on tiptoe to peer over Grissom's shoulder. She was taken aback by the disarray of clothing on the floor, wondering what Grissom could possibly see. "What is it?"
Stepping aside to give Sara a better view, Grissom pointed at the floor near the bottom of the full size bunk bed. "Does that look like a towel to you?"
Sara looked at the direction in which Grissom was pointing, and could see the corner of a white piece of fabric poking out from underneath the bed. Without responding, she deftly crossed the debris and kneeled in front of the piece of fabric in view. "Did you get a picture of this?"
"Yes."
She began to pull the fabric out from under the bed, using her other hand to pick up the slack as the item began to billow out from its crumpled form.
It was a white bath towel, stained with blood.
Sara looked up at Grissom, who holding his breath. "You must be feeling better if you were able to catch this."
"A little bit."
"Let Brass know that I want to take Darrell in for questioning. Have Children's Services meet us at the lab. Let's page everyone and get this room processed. I think we've almost got it."
Grissom nodded wordlessly, and disappeared down the hall.
Sara studied the towel again, letting her shoulders slump as her exhaustion began to take over. She placed the towel into a brown paper bag, a sticker reading EVIDENCE in bright red letters securing the fold. Standing, she surveyed the room once again, straightening her shoulders.
It was time to obtain a warrant and close this case.
Sara parked the SUV behind a cluster of law enforcement vehicles, shifting the engine into park and shutting it off with a quick turn of the key. She reached for the door handle, her swift movements belying her irritation. Grissom cleared his throat. "Sara, wait a moment."
Sara kept her hand on the handle of the door, looking past the steering wheel to the vehicles ahead. "What?"
"I'm sorry. I'm not myself this morning."
"OK."
"No, it's not. I need you to be lead because I'm not focused enough to do it. I'm here because I have to be."
Sara gave him a cool look, measuring his expression and his sincerity. "All right. As lead, I think you can be here." She pulled the handle to open the door and stepped outside the Tahoe, then regarded Grissom with another glance. "Just don't fuck up my crime scene." She slammed the door with force, causing Grissom to wince. He watched her in the sideview mirror as she walked to the back of the vehicle to retrieve her kit. Sighing, he reached for the handle of his door to let himself out into bright morning.
Several officers already stood in the parking lot, milling around and waiting for a sign from someone to work to move to another location. Brass appeared from the group and walked toward Sara and Grissom. "OK, here's what we have—"
"Talk to me, Brass. I'm lead."
Brass raised an eyebrow at Grissom, who raised an eyebrow in response. Brass turned to address Sara. "Colleen Mandel, age 35, gave an ID for the kid. Joey Zucker, 11 years old, foster son. She and her husband Oscar, 37, have another foster kid, Darrell Wilson, age 16."
"Did she notice the younger one missing?" Sara asked, her face somewhat grimaced. Grissom surmised she was already running possible answers through her mind for possible motives, and glanced down at the asphalt beneath his feet. He noticed rubber marks, black, red, and blue, forming lines at various intervals across the sealed gravel.
"She thought Joey was staying with a friend. Says Darrell told her. She works midshift at a hospital as a lab tech. She called the friend's house this morning, found out he wasn't there, and called to file a Missing Persons report."
"Warrick or Nick find the report?"
"No, they went home earlier. One of my guys called me with it."
Sara furrowed her brows, focusing her sight on Brass' lapel. "Anyone talking? Anything suspicious?"
Brass shrugged. "The older kid's nervous, but who knows? We haven't looked around at all. We were waiting for you."
Sara sneaked a glance at Grissom while chewing on her lower lip. "OK. Let's get statements from Mom, Dad, and the kid on whereabouts, the usual. Gris and I will take a look inside and see what we can find." Brass nodded and headed back to the group of officers to hand out assignments for the statements. Sara turned to Grissom, "Let's see if anything sticks out at us. If so, we get all hands on deck. I want this done." She turned her back to Grissom again and began her way to the stairs leading to the second story apartment held by the Mandels. Grissom picked up his kit and followed closely behind her.
Grissom slowly picked his way through the hallway into the small room off the right side. The apartment was a standard two-bedroom, with this room being the smaller of the two. The floor was covered with clothing; the walls were plastered with movie and music posters, torn magazine artwork, and the occasional awkward drawing. A set of oak bunkbeds, the bottom bed full size and the top one twin size, were pushed against the far wall between the window and the closet. Grissom began snapping photos of the room from his vantagepoint in the doorway. A pair of rollerblades were tossed into the open closet, among a jumble of sneakers and a couple pair of Sunday loafers. A desk stood near the door, covered with a few glasses, a crumb-filled plate, a framed picture, and some school papers. Amid the snaps of the camera and the whir of spooling film, Grissom could hear the voices of Sara, Brass, and Mrs. Mandel, as the woman was questioned about her younger foster son's disappearance. He continued taking photos of the items in the room, trying to find any clues to what may have happened to the boy.
Sara completed her talk with Mrs. Mandel, leaving the woman with Brass to finish giving her statement. She turned to the hallway, where she could see Grissom's form in the doorway of the children's bedroom, the flashes of the camera providing backlight into the darkness of the hall. As she began to turn back to Brass, Grissom called out for her.
"Yeah, Gris?"
"I think I see something here."
Sara reached the bedroom and stood on tiptoe to peer over Grissom's shoulder. She was taken aback by the disarray of clothing on the floor, wondering what Grissom could possibly see. "What is it?"
Stepping aside to give Sara a better view, Grissom pointed at the floor near the bottom of the full size bunk bed. "Does that look like a towel to you?"
Sara looked at the direction in which Grissom was pointing, and could see the corner of a white piece of fabric poking out from underneath the bed. Without responding, she deftly crossed the debris and kneeled in front of the piece of fabric in view. "Did you get a picture of this?"
"Yes."
She began to pull the fabric out from under the bed, using her other hand to pick up the slack as the item began to billow out from its crumpled form.
It was a white bath towel, stained with blood.
Sara looked up at Grissom, who holding his breath. "You must be feeling better if you were able to catch this."
"A little bit."
"Let Brass know that I want to take Darrell in for questioning. Have Children's Services meet us at the lab. Let's page everyone and get this room processed. I think we've almost got it."
Grissom nodded wordlessly, and disappeared down the hall.
Sara studied the towel again, letting her shoulders slump as her exhaustion began to take over. She placed the towel into a brown paper bag, a sticker reading EVIDENCE in bright red letters securing the fold. Standing, she surveyed the room once again, straightening her shoulders.
It was time to obtain a warrant and close this case.