Catherine Willows pulled up in the driveway where Nick would normally have
parked. From there, the house looked relatively untouched – not even the
yellow crime scene tape was visible from this angle. She looked at the
woman seated next to her. "You ready?"
Sara nodded as she opened her door and slid out. "Let's get this done. When is the insurance guy coming to inspect the damage?"
"Not for a couple of hours. I called a friend in construction to come out and take a look first. I want to have a better idea about what kind of repairs we're looking at before the adjuster gets here."
"Is he still as cute as ever?" It was the worst kept secret at CSI that Catherine had started dating the district engineer – as soon as she stopped butting heads with him.
"I hadn't noticed. You'll have to ask his new girlfriend." As they walked up the sidewalk, she handed Sara a clipboard before slipping on a pair of gloves. "Here, why don't you write down all the damage we notice as we do our walk-through."
Sara gave a grim smile. "Gee, thanks."
"You're welcome." Catherine smiled at Sara's tone. "First item of damage, this lawn's been all torn up. It's probably going to need to be patched."
"Won't it grow back?" Sara nudged at the deep gouges with the toe of her shoe.
Catherine shook her head. "That would take months. Nick shouldn't have to have any visible reminders of what happened."
"Front door's trashed." Sara spoke as she took notes. "Looks like the door frame and trim is shot too." Behind her, Catherine began snapping pictures of the damage. "Didn't we get all the pictures we needed of the crime scene that night?" There was a pause; the Sara answered her own question. "We didn't take pictures of the door."
"That's right, but why didn't we?"
"It wasn't part of the evidence. Nigel Crane didn't use the front door. Brass and the uniforms broke it down to get in. We didn't give it a second thought at the time."
"No we didn't." Catherine fumbled with the hasp lock that was temporarily holding the door shut. "We've always looked at a scene for the evidence. Now we need to look at it from the victim's standpoint. We need to look at the damage done by everybody that night."
It took over an hour and many rolls of film to record all the damage one night of terror had done. When she was finished, Catherine looked around to find Sara. The younger woman was in the kitchen, mesmerized by the contents of the open refrigerator.
"Sara?"
"Nick was right. That sick bastard had his hands on everything, look." Sara's gloved finger touched a carton of milk, shadowed with various forensic powders. "He even drank out of the carton. Crane is one creepy weirdo."
Behind her, Catherine studied the refrigerator door, then pulled a stack of lab notes out of her case. "The refrigerator door handle tested positive for saliva, too.
Sara pulled back and stared at her latex covered hands. "That is so gross. Does Nick know about that?"
"He's the one that ran the tests." As upset as Catherine was, she was glad that Sara was finally seeing the scene through the eyes of the victim. "No wonder he worked himself into such a state of exhaustion." Sara nodded, but never took her eyes off her gloved hands. Catherine had to smile. "Would you like another pair of gloves, Sara?"
"Yeah." She couldn't strip them off fast enough.
Both women jumped when a loud voice rang out. "Hey, anybody here?" Paul Newsome stood, examining the shattered doorframe, unaware of the effect his yell had had.
"Paul, umm, we're in the kitchen." Catherine turned her back on her grinning companion and walked around the counter to greet him in the living room. "Thanks for coming. We really want to make sure that everything is as perfect as we can get it before Nick moves back in.
"Nick, huh, should I be jealous?"
"He's the closest thing I have to a little brother in Vegas. By the way, how is Bambi, or was it Bunny?
"Actually, it was Becky, and we're not seeing each other any more. Just because I was stupid enough to let the best thing I've ever had get away from me, doesn't mean that I'm always an idiot. He looked flushed and Sara decided it was time for a little diversion.
"As fascinating as it is to rehash ancient history, we don't have that much time before the insurance adjuster arrives.
"You're right." Paul gave his most winning smile, hoping it had the same affect on Catherine as it had during the last investigation they had worked together.
Willows didn't return the smile, but she didn't seem as grim as she had a few moments earlier. "Why don't we start in the attic. You go on up, the access panel is in the back hallway closet. I need to get the ALS."
Paul watched the retreating figure before turning back to Sara. "ALS?"
"Alternative Light Source. It shows things that aren't visible to the naked eye." She reached into her case and pulled out another pair of gloves.
"What kind of things?"
"Mostly, body fluid residue. Here, I think you'll want these." She held the gloves up and waited for him to take them. He looked rather green as he slipped them on.
"I'll wait for Catherine up there." He was still staring at his hands as he walked down the hall.
Did Paul already go up?" Catherine elbowed her way through the door with the ALS. When no answer was forthcoming, she found Sara back in the kitchen, her head in the refrigerator. "Sara?"
"Oh, yeah. He's waiting for you up there." She turned around, keeping the refrigerator door open. "What do we do with all this food that Nigel's slobbered on?"
Catherine shifted the strap on her shoulder as she set the colored glasses on the top of her head. "Would you want to eat it?" She didn't wait for an answer, instead moving into the hallway. Behind her she could head the sound of items being dropped in the garbage.
"Cath?" Paul's voice sounded a bit shaky to her ears as she climbed through the small access panel. "This weirdo is in jail, right? I mean, we don't have to worry about him coming back to the scene of the crime, right?"
"With any luck he won't be out for a very long time." Catherine pulled her glasses down onto her face before handing the spare pair to Newsome.
"What do you mean, with any luck?" Paul pointed to one of the nearby peepholes. "This guy is seriously nuts."
"Hopefully, the courts won't find him too nuts." She turned on the light, and waited for the obvious question. When he just stared at her, slack- jawed, she took pity on him. "If he's found incompetent to stand trial, then he'll be sent to a mental hospital instead of prison."
"Then what? Convince some doctor that he's cured, and be released?"
"Stranger things have happened." Catherine swept the blue light in a controlled pattern around the peephole near Newsome. Multiple large splatters were apparent. "Oh, God."
"What?" He looked around, not seeing anything, before realizing that the glasses were still in his hand. Once he put them on, what Catherine had been upset about became visible to him. "Is that urine?"
Willows bit back a smile. "Wrong body fluid. This peephole was Nigel's view into Nick's bedroom. That one," she paused as she moved the light to a different area, "is the one over the bathroom." The second area glowed just as much as the first.
"Wrong body fluid? What…you mean…Oh my God…are you sure?" The green tint on Newsome's face wasn't entirely from the reflection of the ALS.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Now that you've seen it, if this were your house, how would you want it fixed, Paul? She took pity on the man and turned off the light, hiding the revolting evidence. Below them the phone rang twice before Sara's voice softly filtered through, but they both ignored the intrusion.
He didn't have to think about the question. "If this were my house, I'd want every bit of insulation yanked out and replaced. I'd want big sections of the ceiling replaced, not just the peepholes patched, and…" he turned and pointed at the ventilation duct that Nigel had broken loose and used as his entrance. "I'd want that vent rebuilt so nothing and no one could ever get through it."
For the first time since she had pulled into the driveway Catherine allowed herself to truly smile. "Now we just have to convince the insurance adjuster of that."
"Leave that to me." Paul relaxed enough to return the smile. "That is why you asked me to join you, isn't it?"
"Catherine!" The moment was ended when Sara scrambled through the opening into the attic. "That phone call…"
Willows put her hands out, protecting herself from the fast moving Sidle. "Whoa, Sara, what happened? Who was on the phone?"
Sara took a deep breath and composed herself. "That was Rocky Mountain Kennels. They were concerned because Nick hasn't picked up his dog yet."
"Nick doesn't have a dog." Catherine seemed puzzled by this turn of events.
"No, but Jane Gallaway did."
Sara nodded as she opened her door and slid out. "Let's get this done. When is the insurance guy coming to inspect the damage?"
"Not for a couple of hours. I called a friend in construction to come out and take a look first. I want to have a better idea about what kind of repairs we're looking at before the adjuster gets here."
"Is he still as cute as ever?" It was the worst kept secret at CSI that Catherine had started dating the district engineer – as soon as she stopped butting heads with him.
"I hadn't noticed. You'll have to ask his new girlfriend." As they walked up the sidewalk, she handed Sara a clipboard before slipping on a pair of gloves. "Here, why don't you write down all the damage we notice as we do our walk-through."
Sara gave a grim smile. "Gee, thanks."
"You're welcome." Catherine smiled at Sara's tone. "First item of damage, this lawn's been all torn up. It's probably going to need to be patched."
"Won't it grow back?" Sara nudged at the deep gouges with the toe of her shoe.
Catherine shook her head. "That would take months. Nick shouldn't have to have any visible reminders of what happened."
"Front door's trashed." Sara spoke as she took notes. "Looks like the door frame and trim is shot too." Behind her, Catherine began snapping pictures of the damage. "Didn't we get all the pictures we needed of the crime scene that night?" There was a pause; the Sara answered her own question. "We didn't take pictures of the door."
"That's right, but why didn't we?"
"It wasn't part of the evidence. Nigel Crane didn't use the front door. Brass and the uniforms broke it down to get in. We didn't give it a second thought at the time."
"No we didn't." Catherine fumbled with the hasp lock that was temporarily holding the door shut. "We've always looked at a scene for the evidence. Now we need to look at it from the victim's standpoint. We need to look at the damage done by everybody that night."
It took over an hour and many rolls of film to record all the damage one night of terror had done. When she was finished, Catherine looked around to find Sara. The younger woman was in the kitchen, mesmerized by the contents of the open refrigerator.
"Sara?"
"Nick was right. That sick bastard had his hands on everything, look." Sara's gloved finger touched a carton of milk, shadowed with various forensic powders. "He even drank out of the carton. Crane is one creepy weirdo."
Behind her, Catherine studied the refrigerator door, then pulled a stack of lab notes out of her case. "The refrigerator door handle tested positive for saliva, too.
Sara pulled back and stared at her latex covered hands. "That is so gross. Does Nick know about that?"
"He's the one that ran the tests." As upset as Catherine was, she was glad that Sara was finally seeing the scene through the eyes of the victim. "No wonder he worked himself into such a state of exhaustion." Sara nodded, but never took her eyes off her gloved hands. Catherine had to smile. "Would you like another pair of gloves, Sara?"
"Yeah." She couldn't strip them off fast enough.
Both women jumped when a loud voice rang out. "Hey, anybody here?" Paul Newsome stood, examining the shattered doorframe, unaware of the effect his yell had had.
"Paul, umm, we're in the kitchen." Catherine turned her back on her grinning companion and walked around the counter to greet him in the living room. "Thanks for coming. We really want to make sure that everything is as perfect as we can get it before Nick moves back in.
"Nick, huh, should I be jealous?"
"He's the closest thing I have to a little brother in Vegas. By the way, how is Bambi, or was it Bunny?
"Actually, it was Becky, and we're not seeing each other any more. Just because I was stupid enough to let the best thing I've ever had get away from me, doesn't mean that I'm always an idiot. He looked flushed and Sara decided it was time for a little diversion.
"As fascinating as it is to rehash ancient history, we don't have that much time before the insurance adjuster arrives.
"You're right." Paul gave his most winning smile, hoping it had the same affect on Catherine as it had during the last investigation they had worked together.
Willows didn't return the smile, but she didn't seem as grim as she had a few moments earlier. "Why don't we start in the attic. You go on up, the access panel is in the back hallway closet. I need to get the ALS."
Paul watched the retreating figure before turning back to Sara. "ALS?"
"Alternative Light Source. It shows things that aren't visible to the naked eye." She reached into her case and pulled out another pair of gloves.
"What kind of things?"
"Mostly, body fluid residue. Here, I think you'll want these." She held the gloves up and waited for him to take them. He looked rather green as he slipped them on.
"I'll wait for Catherine up there." He was still staring at his hands as he walked down the hall.
Did Paul already go up?" Catherine elbowed her way through the door with the ALS. When no answer was forthcoming, she found Sara back in the kitchen, her head in the refrigerator. "Sara?"
"Oh, yeah. He's waiting for you up there." She turned around, keeping the refrigerator door open. "What do we do with all this food that Nigel's slobbered on?"
Catherine shifted the strap on her shoulder as she set the colored glasses on the top of her head. "Would you want to eat it?" She didn't wait for an answer, instead moving into the hallway. Behind her she could head the sound of items being dropped in the garbage.
"Cath?" Paul's voice sounded a bit shaky to her ears as she climbed through the small access panel. "This weirdo is in jail, right? I mean, we don't have to worry about him coming back to the scene of the crime, right?"
"With any luck he won't be out for a very long time." Catherine pulled her glasses down onto her face before handing the spare pair to Newsome.
"What do you mean, with any luck?" Paul pointed to one of the nearby peepholes. "This guy is seriously nuts."
"Hopefully, the courts won't find him too nuts." She turned on the light, and waited for the obvious question. When he just stared at her, slack- jawed, she took pity on him. "If he's found incompetent to stand trial, then he'll be sent to a mental hospital instead of prison."
"Then what? Convince some doctor that he's cured, and be released?"
"Stranger things have happened." Catherine swept the blue light in a controlled pattern around the peephole near Newsome. Multiple large splatters were apparent. "Oh, God."
"What?" He looked around, not seeing anything, before realizing that the glasses were still in his hand. Once he put them on, what Catherine had been upset about became visible to him. "Is that urine?"
Willows bit back a smile. "Wrong body fluid. This peephole was Nigel's view into Nick's bedroom. That one," she paused as she moved the light to a different area, "is the one over the bathroom." The second area glowed just as much as the first.
"Wrong body fluid? What…you mean…Oh my God…are you sure?" The green tint on Newsome's face wasn't entirely from the reflection of the ALS.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Now that you've seen it, if this were your house, how would you want it fixed, Paul? She took pity on the man and turned off the light, hiding the revolting evidence. Below them the phone rang twice before Sara's voice softly filtered through, but they both ignored the intrusion.
He didn't have to think about the question. "If this were my house, I'd want every bit of insulation yanked out and replaced. I'd want big sections of the ceiling replaced, not just the peepholes patched, and…" he turned and pointed at the ventilation duct that Nigel had broken loose and used as his entrance. "I'd want that vent rebuilt so nothing and no one could ever get through it."
For the first time since she had pulled into the driveway Catherine allowed herself to truly smile. "Now we just have to convince the insurance adjuster of that."
"Leave that to me." Paul relaxed enough to return the smile. "That is why you asked me to join you, isn't it?"
"Catherine!" The moment was ended when Sara scrambled through the opening into the attic. "That phone call…"
Willows put her hands out, protecting herself from the fast moving Sidle. "Whoa, Sara, what happened? Who was on the phone?"
Sara took a deep breath and composed herself. "That was Rocky Mountain Kennels. They were concerned because Nick hasn't picked up his dog yet."
"Nick doesn't have a dog." Catherine seemed puzzled by this turn of events.
"No, but Jane Gallaway did."