**********************************************************************
Warrick slipped quietly through the morgue doors just as Al Robbins was finishing up the autopsy on the teenage victim and he cleared his throat gently to let Al know he was there.
"Hey, Al. It's been one hell of a night," he remarked, shaking his head in sadness as he approached the table and viewed the body of the fifteen-year old; Al appeared as if he hadn't slept for a few days with the heavy, dark circles visible under his eyes.
"Tell me about it; there's nothing worse than doing an autopsy on a young person dead way before his time or someone you know, and tonight, I've had both. Hold on a moment, I need to get a cup of coffee before I start on the last victim." He walked across the room to his machine, poured himself some coffee and offered Warrick a cup, which he accepted gratefully after all the work he had done at the restaurant.
"How does it look so far?" Warrick inquired. "Did you get any more slugs out of the other victims?"
"I removed a few bullet fragments from the woman and the teenager. I'll give them over to you for further examination by ballistics. These two victims were both shot numerous times and a few of the bullets hit major organs and blood vessels. The woman bled to death, and the young man who I believe was her son, died from a gunshot wound to the heart. Teri, however, was shot only once, through the back of her neck which severed her spinal cord. She died almost instantly, Warrick, and Grissom will be relieved to know she didn't suffer. It appears from the exit wound that whoever shot her was standing about five to six feet away from her. Did you find the bullet that killed her on the scene?"
"Yeah, Catherine picked up a fragment on the floor near her body. I just got back from ballistics and they identified it as a thirty-two millimeter; the only thirty-two that we got from the scene. The two witnesses at the restaurant described only one shooter and they said he only pulled one gun. I'm starting to think there had to be another shooter. I need to recreate the crime scene on the computer so we can get these trajectory patterns in order."
"I think it sounds pretty plausible that there might have been a second shooter. I'm going to start the procedure on the fourth victim, the man found at the scene. You don't have to stay for this if you're not comfortable, Warrick."
"No, I've been here for autopsies worse than this; I think I can handle it, but thanks for the consideration." Just as Warrick finished speaking, Nick came through the door.
"Hey, we just got done logging in most of the other evidence from the restaurant. I came by to find out what the status is on the victims," he said.
Warrick filled him in on what he had learned so far and Nick was intrigued on the theory that there might have been a second shooter. He grimaced as he and Warrick watched Robbins pull three bullet fragments from out of the man's chest.
"You see this hole here," Robbins said, pointing to an area near the man's heart. "The bullet went through a major artery. This man bled to death internally, much like his wife. It's so terrible to see an entire family come through here at the same time." He sighed at the senselessness of this complete misfortune and removed his rubber gloves.
"I'm going to take a much needed break for a few minutes; if you need me, I'll be in the break room." Robbins, carrying his coffee, exited the morgue and Warrick handed Nick the fragments that Al had given him.
"Can you take these over to ballistics? I'm going take the pictures from the scene and put the coordinates of the bullet fragments and casings into the computer to try to figure out the path that each bullet took. I'll be in the lab, let me know if you find out anything about the bullets." Nick nodded in confirmation.
Nick glanced down at the plastic bags knowing there was not much ballistics could do with them at this point, especially without a murder weapon to check them against, but he was still hoping that the bullets could help lead the team to some information about the gun or anything that could be useful in the investigation. He didn't want the killer to get away with this horrible crime.
**************************************************
Sara tried not to glance into Grissom's office as she headed toward the lab; she had just gotten finished logging in all the other evidence with Nick when Catherine stopped her with surprising news.
"Sara, we have to go, I just got a call. You're not going to believe this; we've got another shooting in the parking lot of the Luxor Hotel and Casino. Apparently, it's only a single female victim this time. Come on, you can ride with me; we don't need the guys. We're big girls, we can handle this alone."
Sara followed Catherine out to her car and climbed into the passenger seat, noticing the smell of greasy potatoes in the air and trying not to step on the fast food bag lying on the floor near her feet. She grinned and peeked over at Catherine who was busy putting on her seatbelt.
"I'm glad to know I'm not the only one with a penchant for junk food," she said, laughing. "I'm jealous, how do you keep your figure eating that stuff? I have to work out like crazy if I just eat one french fry!"
"Ah, but you forget, my dear, I was an exotic dancer and we have trade secrets, which just means that I have to exercise like crazy, too." She grinned back at Sara, put the car in drive and began the drive to the casino.
They drove in silence for a few moments until Sara finally spoke; there was something that had been on her mind for a large amount of the night.
"Um, Catherine? I have a question for you, but I don't want to you to think anything weird about it, I mean, I'm just curious, you know?" She ran through this sentence very quickly with perceptive nervousness and glimpsed down at her hands, trying to summon enough courage to ask the question.
Catherine looked at her briefly, picking up on the anxiety, before returning her blue eyes to the road. "O.k., go ahead."
Sara continued talking rapidly. "I know that this probably isn't the best time, I mean, with everything that happened tonight, but I was just wondering, um, how close was Grissom with Teri? I mean, if you don't want to talk about it, I completely understand. Really, it's none of my business, but I just, you know, wondered about it. I know he's not taking this well at all."
Catherine took a moment to prepare her answer. She wasn't comfortable about revealing really personal details to Sara even though she liked her very much; she and Grissom had an understanding about each other that extended past professional courtesy. They had worked together for a long time and had been through a lot of difficult things, during their jobs and their private lives. Grissom had been there for her more than anyone else during her tumultuous mess with Eddie; she had confided in him plenty of things that she wouldn't want broadcast around the lab, but she knew that he was very discreet and was sure that he would expect the same consideration from her. On the other hand, she was a very perceptive person and she knew this inquiry from Sara was arising from the fact that Sara had more than a professional interest in Grissom; Catherine wondered briefly if Sara's attraction to their boss was obvious to anyone else on their team other than herself. She also knew that this magnetism between he and Sara was mutual, whether Grissom was aware of it or not; she was a woman, how could she not notice when two people had the hots for each other? However, she needed to tread carefully here, no matter how much she wanted to push the two into each other's arms.
"Well, they worked together a few times on different cases and developed a friendship. Teri was a very intelligent and pleasant woman. She was the top forensic anthropologist in the country. I don't really know much else about their relationship, but, I can understand why he would be upset about her death; I knew her also, and she was a very special person." It was very difficult for Catherine to refer to Teri in the past tense.
"I saw the work she did on that woman's face, it's so terrible that this happened to her," Sara answered, becoming somewhat quieter. Catherine noticed the change in her demeanor and looked over at her. Oh, the heck with subtlety, it's such an overrated concept, anyway, she thought.
"You know, you could just tell him how you feel." The expression upon Sara's face like she was about to choke from shock almost caused Catherine to burst out giggling like a schoolgirl.
"W-what?" she stammered, turning a quite blazing shade of scarlet. "I mean, what makes you think."
"Oh, come on, Sara, we're both adults here. I see how you look at him sometimes; there's more than just respect for a co-worker in those eyes." She gave Sara a wise and omnipotent gaze.
Sara's look of surprise slowly became a smile of embarrassment and she covered her face with her hands. "Oh, God. Is it that obvious?"
"Well, to be honest, no. When you've dealt with a lot of people in your life and lived through a lot of experiences, not to infer that I'm old or anything, but, you learn to see signs and the fact that I'm female probably helps. Most of us women have a lust radar that can detect sexual attraction from a mile away."
Sara really started laughing at that idea, but after a few moments, she sobered up a bit. She knew intrinsically that the reality of a romantic relationship with her boss would be extremely inappropriate in the work setting.
"I," she began and sighed heavily. "I can't, Catherine. I can't tell him how I feel, he's my superior; I don't just work with him, I work for him. Nothing good can come from something like that." She averted her eyes out the passenger window, watching the street lamps drift past, feeling a depression settle over her once again. "And, you know, what if.never mind."
"What if, what?" Catherine pressed, with some exasperation.
"What if he doesn't feel the same, I'll feel like a total jerk and I'll have to quit, I mean, I wouldn't be able to look him in the face again, right?"
"I don't think you have to worry about that," Catherine remarked, with the tone of a smirk evident in her voice.
"What?" Sara turned to face her, suddenly excited. "What do you know? Tell me!"
"I don't know anything," she replied, with mock innocence. "Sara, the best thing I can tell you is to follow your heart. I know that sounds incredibly corny, and to tell you the truth, I can't believe that just came out of my mouth, but is it better to suffer in silence and think about what might have been? Isn't it better to just know the truth? I mean, why fantasize when you might actually be able to have what you desire, you know what I mean?"
Sara sat back down against the seat. "Yeah, but, it's just really risky, that's all. Mixing my job with my personal life, I'll have to think about that."
"Well, that's a good idea, and don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Catherine winked at her and patted her on the arm. Sara smiled to herself; it actually felt good to have someone else know about this huge emotion that she had been carrying around concealed for months; it took a large weight off her shoulders. They continued driving in silence for a few more minutes until they reached the Luxor Hotel and Casino on Las Vegas Boulevard. Flashing emergency vehicle lights were visible as they turned into the parking lot.
Catherine parked her car and unlocked the back seat where she kept her evidence kit. Sara took it out and both women headed over to Captain Brass, who appeared even more exhausted than he had earlier in the evening.
"Oh, great," Catherine commented in jest. "Not you again. I'm starting to think you're the only homicide detective in Las Vegas. I need a change of scenery."
"Hello, once again, ladies," he said, with a grin. "I'm sorry we keep meeting under such poor circumstances."
"To tell you the truth, I've met men under stranger circumstances than this," she continued, walking past Brass's confused look and toward the yellow tape; she figured she'd just let him stew on that one for awhile.
"Her name is Maggie Peterson. A security guard called 911 after he heard a single gunshot from the parking lot. She hasn't been dead longer than half an hour," Brass explained.
The woman was lying in a prone position next to a gray or silver car; it was difficult to tell the true color in the darkness. Sara put down the investigation equipment, took out two pairs of rubber gloves, and handed one set to Catherine. She took a flashlight out of her pocket and followed her colleague over to the body; Catherine was surprised by what she found upon a closer examination.
"Sara, look at this," she said, indicating an exit wound a few inches from the base of the victim's throat. "One gunshot wound, it's almost identical in placement to the one on Teri. Warrick let me know that the fragment at the restaurant was a thirty-two. I wonder if we'll find any thirty-two fragments lying around here."
Sara moved in nearer to the woman and made an astute observation. "You know, Catherine, she has very similar characteristics to Teri; long blonde hair, body type and height. In fact, if seen from the back, she'd probably be mistaken for her." This investigation was becoming more interesting by the second. Sara took a camera out of the bag.
Catherine stared down at the body, her analytical mind playing with the pieces of the puzzle thus far and repeating the phrase "mistaken for her" over and over. Sara shined the flashlight around the scene until it glinted off a piece of metal in the space about five feet behind the body.
"I think we just got it," she announced. She photographed and marked the spot, then took a plastic bag out of her pocket and picked up the bullet casing very carefully. She placed it in the sack and, after calculating where the woman might have been standing from her position on the ground and the location of the casing, she poked around the area until she found the bullet fragment that had exited the body and had embedded itself near the license plate of a car. "Looks like a thirty-two; it's stamped clearly on the casing."
"We didn't find a casing for a thirty-two at the restaurant, just the remains of the bullet," Catherine remarked, partly to herself.
"Warrick was working on the trajectory pattern of the bullets when we left; he thinks there might have been a second shooter."
"Let's finish up here and get back to the lab. I want to see what Warrick's found out."
*******************************************************
Warrick slipped quietly through the morgue doors just as Al Robbins was finishing up the autopsy on the teenage victim and he cleared his throat gently to let Al know he was there.
"Hey, Al. It's been one hell of a night," he remarked, shaking his head in sadness as he approached the table and viewed the body of the fifteen-year old; Al appeared as if he hadn't slept for a few days with the heavy, dark circles visible under his eyes.
"Tell me about it; there's nothing worse than doing an autopsy on a young person dead way before his time or someone you know, and tonight, I've had both. Hold on a moment, I need to get a cup of coffee before I start on the last victim." He walked across the room to his machine, poured himself some coffee and offered Warrick a cup, which he accepted gratefully after all the work he had done at the restaurant.
"How does it look so far?" Warrick inquired. "Did you get any more slugs out of the other victims?"
"I removed a few bullet fragments from the woman and the teenager. I'll give them over to you for further examination by ballistics. These two victims were both shot numerous times and a few of the bullets hit major organs and blood vessels. The woman bled to death, and the young man who I believe was her son, died from a gunshot wound to the heart. Teri, however, was shot only once, through the back of her neck which severed her spinal cord. She died almost instantly, Warrick, and Grissom will be relieved to know she didn't suffer. It appears from the exit wound that whoever shot her was standing about five to six feet away from her. Did you find the bullet that killed her on the scene?"
"Yeah, Catherine picked up a fragment on the floor near her body. I just got back from ballistics and they identified it as a thirty-two millimeter; the only thirty-two that we got from the scene. The two witnesses at the restaurant described only one shooter and they said he only pulled one gun. I'm starting to think there had to be another shooter. I need to recreate the crime scene on the computer so we can get these trajectory patterns in order."
"I think it sounds pretty plausible that there might have been a second shooter. I'm going to start the procedure on the fourth victim, the man found at the scene. You don't have to stay for this if you're not comfortable, Warrick."
"No, I've been here for autopsies worse than this; I think I can handle it, but thanks for the consideration." Just as Warrick finished speaking, Nick came through the door.
"Hey, we just got done logging in most of the other evidence from the restaurant. I came by to find out what the status is on the victims," he said.
Warrick filled him in on what he had learned so far and Nick was intrigued on the theory that there might have been a second shooter. He grimaced as he and Warrick watched Robbins pull three bullet fragments from out of the man's chest.
"You see this hole here," Robbins said, pointing to an area near the man's heart. "The bullet went through a major artery. This man bled to death internally, much like his wife. It's so terrible to see an entire family come through here at the same time." He sighed at the senselessness of this complete misfortune and removed his rubber gloves.
"I'm going to take a much needed break for a few minutes; if you need me, I'll be in the break room." Robbins, carrying his coffee, exited the morgue and Warrick handed Nick the fragments that Al had given him.
"Can you take these over to ballistics? I'm going take the pictures from the scene and put the coordinates of the bullet fragments and casings into the computer to try to figure out the path that each bullet took. I'll be in the lab, let me know if you find out anything about the bullets." Nick nodded in confirmation.
Nick glanced down at the plastic bags knowing there was not much ballistics could do with them at this point, especially without a murder weapon to check them against, but he was still hoping that the bullets could help lead the team to some information about the gun or anything that could be useful in the investigation. He didn't want the killer to get away with this horrible crime.
**************************************************
Sara tried not to glance into Grissom's office as she headed toward the lab; she had just gotten finished logging in all the other evidence with Nick when Catherine stopped her with surprising news.
"Sara, we have to go, I just got a call. You're not going to believe this; we've got another shooting in the parking lot of the Luxor Hotel and Casino. Apparently, it's only a single female victim this time. Come on, you can ride with me; we don't need the guys. We're big girls, we can handle this alone."
Sara followed Catherine out to her car and climbed into the passenger seat, noticing the smell of greasy potatoes in the air and trying not to step on the fast food bag lying on the floor near her feet. She grinned and peeked over at Catherine who was busy putting on her seatbelt.
"I'm glad to know I'm not the only one with a penchant for junk food," she said, laughing. "I'm jealous, how do you keep your figure eating that stuff? I have to work out like crazy if I just eat one french fry!"
"Ah, but you forget, my dear, I was an exotic dancer and we have trade secrets, which just means that I have to exercise like crazy, too." She grinned back at Sara, put the car in drive and began the drive to the casino.
They drove in silence for a few moments until Sara finally spoke; there was something that had been on her mind for a large amount of the night.
"Um, Catherine? I have a question for you, but I don't want to you to think anything weird about it, I mean, I'm just curious, you know?" She ran through this sentence very quickly with perceptive nervousness and glimpsed down at her hands, trying to summon enough courage to ask the question.
Catherine looked at her briefly, picking up on the anxiety, before returning her blue eyes to the road. "O.k., go ahead."
Sara continued talking rapidly. "I know that this probably isn't the best time, I mean, with everything that happened tonight, but I was just wondering, um, how close was Grissom with Teri? I mean, if you don't want to talk about it, I completely understand. Really, it's none of my business, but I just, you know, wondered about it. I know he's not taking this well at all."
Catherine took a moment to prepare her answer. She wasn't comfortable about revealing really personal details to Sara even though she liked her very much; she and Grissom had an understanding about each other that extended past professional courtesy. They had worked together for a long time and had been through a lot of difficult things, during their jobs and their private lives. Grissom had been there for her more than anyone else during her tumultuous mess with Eddie; she had confided in him plenty of things that she wouldn't want broadcast around the lab, but she knew that he was very discreet and was sure that he would expect the same consideration from her. On the other hand, she was a very perceptive person and she knew this inquiry from Sara was arising from the fact that Sara had more than a professional interest in Grissom; Catherine wondered briefly if Sara's attraction to their boss was obvious to anyone else on their team other than herself. She also knew that this magnetism between he and Sara was mutual, whether Grissom was aware of it or not; she was a woman, how could she not notice when two people had the hots for each other? However, she needed to tread carefully here, no matter how much she wanted to push the two into each other's arms.
"Well, they worked together a few times on different cases and developed a friendship. Teri was a very intelligent and pleasant woman. She was the top forensic anthropologist in the country. I don't really know much else about their relationship, but, I can understand why he would be upset about her death; I knew her also, and she was a very special person." It was very difficult for Catherine to refer to Teri in the past tense.
"I saw the work she did on that woman's face, it's so terrible that this happened to her," Sara answered, becoming somewhat quieter. Catherine noticed the change in her demeanor and looked over at her. Oh, the heck with subtlety, it's such an overrated concept, anyway, she thought.
"You know, you could just tell him how you feel." The expression upon Sara's face like she was about to choke from shock almost caused Catherine to burst out giggling like a schoolgirl.
"W-what?" she stammered, turning a quite blazing shade of scarlet. "I mean, what makes you think."
"Oh, come on, Sara, we're both adults here. I see how you look at him sometimes; there's more than just respect for a co-worker in those eyes." She gave Sara a wise and omnipotent gaze.
Sara's look of surprise slowly became a smile of embarrassment and she covered her face with her hands. "Oh, God. Is it that obvious?"
"Well, to be honest, no. When you've dealt with a lot of people in your life and lived through a lot of experiences, not to infer that I'm old or anything, but, you learn to see signs and the fact that I'm female probably helps. Most of us women have a lust radar that can detect sexual attraction from a mile away."
Sara really started laughing at that idea, but after a few moments, she sobered up a bit. She knew intrinsically that the reality of a romantic relationship with her boss would be extremely inappropriate in the work setting.
"I," she began and sighed heavily. "I can't, Catherine. I can't tell him how I feel, he's my superior; I don't just work with him, I work for him. Nothing good can come from something like that." She averted her eyes out the passenger window, watching the street lamps drift past, feeling a depression settle over her once again. "And, you know, what if.never mind."
"What if, what?" Catherine pressed, with some exasperation.
"What if he doesn't feel the same, I'll feel like a total jerk and I'll have to quit, I mean, I wouldn't be able to look him in the face again, right?"
"I don't think you have to worry about that," Catherine remarked, with the tone of a smirk evident in her voice.
"What?" Sara turned to face her, suddenly excited. "What do you know? Tell me!"
"I don't know anything," she replied, with mock innocence. "Sara, the best thing I can tell you is to follow your heart. I know that sounds incredibly corny, and to tell you the truth, I can't believe that just came out of my mouth, but is it better to suffer in silence and think about what might have been? Isn't it better to just know the truth? I mean, why fantasize when you might actually be able to have what you desire, you know what I mean?"
Sara sat back down against the seat. "Yeah, but, it's just really risky, that's all. Mixing my job with my personal life, I'll have to think about that."
"Well, that's a good idea, and don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Catherine winked at her and patted her on the arm. Sara smiled to herself; it actually felt good to have someone else know about this huge emotion that she had been carrying around concealed for months; it took a large weight off her shoulders. They continued driving in silence for a few more minutes until they reached the Luxor Hotel and Casino on Las Vegas Boulevard. Flashing emergency vehicle lights were visible as they turned into the parking lot.
Catherine parked her car and unlocked the back seat where she kept her evidence kit. Sara took it out and both women headed over to Captain Brass, who appeared even more exhausted than he had earlier in the evening.
"Oh, great," Catherine commented in jest. "Not you again. I'm starting to think you're the only homicide detective in Las Vegas. I need a change of scenery."
"Hello, once again, ladies," he said, with a grin. "I'm sorry we keep meeting under such poor circumstances."
"To tell you the truth, I've met men under stranger circumstances than this," she continued, walking past Brass's confused look and toward the yellow tape; she figured she'd just let him stew on that one for awhile.
"Her name is Maggie Peterson. A security guard called 911 after he heard a single gunshot from the parking lot. She hasn't been dead longer than half an hour," Brass explained.
The woman was lying in a prone position next to a gray or silver car; it was difficult to tell the true color in the darkness. Sara put down the investigation equipment, took out two pairs of rubber gloves, and handed one set to Catherine. She took a flashlight out of her pocket and followed her colleague over to the body; Catherine was surprised by what she found upon a closer examination.
"Sara, look at this," she said, indicating an exit wound a few inches from the base of the victim's throat. "One gunshot wound, it's almost identical in placement to the one on Teri. Warrick let me know that the fragment at the restaurant was a thirty-two. I wonder if we'll find any thirty-two fragments lying around here."
Sara moved in nearer to the woman and made an astute observation. "You know, Catherine, she has very similar characteristics to Teri; long blonde hair, body type and height. In fact, if seen from the back, she'd probably be mistaken for her." This investigation was becoming more interesting by the second. Sara took a camera out of the bag.
Catherine stared down at the body, her analytical mind playing with the pieces of the puzzle thus far and repeating the phrase "mistaken for her" over and over. Sara shined the flashlight around the scene until it glinted off a piece of metal in the space about five feet behind the body.
"I think we just got it," she announced. She photographed and marked the spot, then took a plastic bag out of her pocket and picked up the bullet casing very carefully. She placed it in the sack and, after calculating where the woman might have been standing from her position on the ground and the location of the casing, she poked around the area until she found the bullet fragment that had exited the body and had embedded itself near the license plate of a car. "Looks like a thirty-two; it's stamped clearly on the casing."
"We didn't find a casing for a thirty-two at the restaurant, just the remains of the bullet," Catherine remarked, partly to herself.
"Warrick was working on the trajectory pattern of the bullets when we left; he thinks there might have been a second shooter."
"Let's finish up here and get back to the lab. I want to see what Warrick's found out."
*******************************************************