Disclaimer: Don't Own. Don't Sue. Do Review.
A/N: Wow! Thanks so much for the reviews. A Bloom, Sara Sidle Stokes, Melindotty, The Madhatter, MissyJane, me and Pagan, you guys rock! Sorry about any mistakes in this chapter. I don't have a degree in forensics and I haven't been to Las Vegas. I have tried to find out as much as possible over the internet and from books. I also don't know what degrees you can study over there or the lengths, so sorry if I've got them wrong. Oh, this might sound a bit stupid, but does anyone know how to get italics and bold to work on this? Well R&R and enjoy - Bex
The sun still shone as Gil Grissom removed his sunglasses, as he stepped into the house. All ready prepared with his latex gloves he walked down the corridor to the crime scene. As he approached the study, he could hear the faint clicking of a camera. He stood in the doorframe and watched as Sara took the last pictures of the body and the glass lying next to it. Sensing his presences, she looked up and gave him a warm smile.
"I'm almost done here. They can remove the body in a moment," Sara pause. "Tell me again Gris why I got drag out of bed to a crime scene that should belong to the dayshift?"
"Because, my dear Miss Sidle, the Sinclairs have a lot of power and they want their son's death investigated thoroughly. So that means they want the best. And we are the best," He dragged at the last few words to emphasise his point.
"Bet Ecklie isn't happy to hear that," She smiled.
Grissom smiled slightly back at her in response. It was true, Ecklie was fuming when he found out and despised Grissom even more for it.
'It's so hard being at the top,' He thought happily to himself.
He walked into the room. Slowly and carefully he circled the body, taking in the first details. In front of him was the body of Ethan Sinclair. He was a Caucasian male, around 6 foot and well built. His hair was a sandy blond, which was in a smart, trim cut. Grissom couldn't tell what his eyes colour was, because his eyes lids were shut, but from a photo he saw in the room, they were a mix of blue and green. He also knew that most women would consider him to be very good looking.
He stared at the photo for a couple of minutes. It was from Ethan's wedding day. Him and his wife stood there wrapped in each other's arms. He was dressed in a traditional tux. Jennifer Sinclair was wearing a delicate, white lace dress. She had mahogany coloured hair, which looked quite red in some lights and emerald eyes. She was undeniably beautiful. They held each other tightly, hopelessly in love. Their hands entwined so much that it muddled up their new wedding rings. They looked so happy. They looked life a perfect couple.
'But looks can be deceptive,' Grissom though gravely.
He was too lost in his own thoughts to realise that Sara had finished. She crossed the room and stood just outside the door.
"I'm done. You can removed the body now," She called down the hall.
Two men entered, they placed Ethan Sinclair into a body bag, and then lifted him onto a stretcher, before carrying him out. Grissom watched them briefly then turned his attention to something else, the suicide letter. He read it once and then reread it.
"What is it about this letter that has the maid so convinced it's a fake?" Grissom asked Sara and no one in particular at the same time.
"Well if you compare it to one of those documents on the desk, you can see that they don't quite match. They're similar, but not written by the same person."
Sara handed him one of the documents off the desk so he could compare the signatures. Grissom studied them both carefully. The one on the document flowed perfectly, where as the letter was more jerky and unsure. A sort of stop and start effect. Also Ethan Sinclair's 'S's seemed to have a natural swirl to them, but the one on the letter seemed forced. It was a very good forgery, but not perfect. Not foolproof. Grissom looked up at Sara.
"So if a letter by a body is trying to convince us it's suicide, turns out to be a fake..."
"It looks like it was probably murder," Sara finished.
Grissom smiled; "Exactly. I think we should get a document expert in to see if they can find anything else about this, which might help us catch out our killer," He mused as he bagged the letter and a document to compare the handwriting with.
"I've already done it. They're going to be arriving at HQ around 2.15," Sara replied.
'Two steps ahead as usual,' Grissom thought proudly.
"You took a swab of the liquid inside the glass?'
"Yep and checked it for finger prints. No clear ones, most of them are smeared."
'Damn,' Grissom swore silently.
"Do you know what was in the glass?"
"It smelt like bourbon, so I took a sample of the open bottle from the liquor cabinet to compare," Sara informed, pointing at the cabinet.
Grissom nodded.
"Well if you bag it, we'll see if our murderer was kind enough to leave us a clue to their identity," Grissom suggested as he took out his ALS.
Sara bagged the evidence and did the same. They started from opposite ends of the room and slowly walked the grid, shinning the blue light at the floor, as they searched for footprints.
"Errr!" Sara moaned in frustration, "The only prints here belong to the maid. The only other thing I found was brush strokes."
"Which means Mr Sinclair either kindly swept up after dying or the killer's covering their tracks," Gris concluded.
"I'm going with option number two," a voice piped in from the door.
He turned to face the door, though he already knew whom it was. Standing there in a red shirt, top buttons undone, and black slacks, blue eyes twinkling with thought and a pair of shades perched on top of her blond hair, was Catherine Willows. She smiled at Sara in greeting and flashed an even more brilliant one at Grissom.
'How is it that every time I see her, she seems to look even more incredible then the last?' Grissom wondered, but quickly pushed those thoughts aside.
"Hey, sorry I interrupted your day with Lindsey, but..." Grissom started to apologise, but Catherine cut him off.
"It's no biggy. She met up with a friend and is going to sleep over her house," Catherine shrugged it off. "You know Lindsey, the social butterfly."
They caught each other's gaze, their eyes locking into place. Grissom could tell she was upset. She didn't spend as much time with her daughter as she would like to and he felt guilty for it.
Sara looked from one to the other. They were rapped up with staring at each other, that they had forgotten she was there. She cleared her throat to remind them.
"Sara would you take the evidence we've bagged to be transported with the body. Oh and give Greg a ring to warn him it's coming. Make sure you stress that it's his priority. I want to know what's in the glass," Grissom instructed.
"Sure thing boss," Sara replied dryly.
She collected the bagged evidence and left the room. Not once while Grissom was speaking to her did he look at her. Not once did he break his eye contact with Catherine. She sighed. She doubted that they had realised that she'd left.
'They've got it bad for each other. Everyone else can see it, so why can't they?" She mused as she walked outside.
After a few moments, Grissom reluctantly broke eye.
"Found anything?" Cath asked.
"No. The murderer's been covering their tracks," He paused. "What can you tell me about our victim?"
He nodded at the documents in Catherine's hand.
"Ethan Sinclair was 28. Parents were Robert Sinclair owner of Oasis Casino and Hotel, and Paula Sinclair, maiden name Geller. Mother is deceased. He worked for his father, though own a few properties of his own. Recently brought an apartment block. Has one sibling, a brother, Julian Sinclair. Ethan married Jennifer Stone about 4 years ago. Wasn't approved of by his family. One of his best friends, Melissa Lukas, died of an heroin O.D seven months ago," Catherine answered half by memory and half by reading.
"The one mentioned in the 'suicide letter'? The person who it said he couldn't live with out?"
Cath nodded.
"But he showed no signs of depression or of being suicidal."
"Humm.... Tell me about the father."
"Robert Sinclair is 57. He's a very rich and powerful man, as I'm sure you know. Remarried to a woman called Tiffany Olsen, 21 years his junior. She strongly disapproved of Ethan marrying Ms Stone, because of she came from a poor background. Warrick and Nick are talking to them now."
She paused and waited for Grissom to tell her who he wanted to hear about next. But he didn't make a sound. He was too busy looking around at the crime scene, completely absorbed in his own thoughts. Catherine decided to move on and choose the next person herself.
"Julian Sinclair is 30. Also works for their father. He's not married..."
"Tell me about the wife, Jenny," He cut her off.
Catherine raised an eyebrow at the fact that he had used Jenny instead of Mrs Sinclair or Jennifer Sinclair or Jennifer for that matter. But Grissom didn't notice this look.
"Jennifer Sinclair, maiden name Stone. She's 25. She's got a degree in Basic Psychology and, get this, is studying Forensic Science at UNVL. Almost completed her degree as well. Her father was Mathew Stone, an English professor. He was murdered when she was 12, street mugging, perp never found," She read off the file, "Mother is Rachel Farrell, shop assistant, estranged from her daughter. Jennifer met Ethan when she was 19 and they got married a while after she turned 21."
Catherine noticed that Grissom was staring at the picture of the couple. More importantly his eyes were fixed on Jennifer.
"Forensics eh..." Grissom muttered to himself, "Anybody been able to contact her?"
Catherine shook her head, "Nope. We couldn't find out where she is from the maid, Rosa Walker, because she's too hysterical to speak. But we think that she might have had a class this morning. Gris?"
"Yeah?" He answered, eyes not leaving the photo.
She was thinking about approaching this carefully, but the words just blurted out; "Why are you so interested in her?"
His head snapped around to face her, his eyes locking once more into her steady gaze. He thought about denying it, but he knew she would be able tell that he was lying. Sometimes he hated how she could read him like an open book.
"It's nothing...it's just..." He started and sighed, "It's just that she seems familiar that's all," He shrugged, "Maybe it'll come to me."
"Good news guys," Sara announced as she re-entered the room, "Evidence is on its way back to the labs and I've talked to Greg, but that's not it. The good news is that Rosa Walker has calmed down, so we might be able to talk to her."
"Good," Cath commented.
Gris only raised an eyebrow. He didn't trust witnesses, only the evidence. Though he did wonder if Mrs Walker could give them any ideas about what happened.
"Still haven't been able to contact the wife?" He asked.
Sara shook her head. Gris sighed slightly and turned to Catherine.
"Any other bits of information you know that might be important?"
"Not really. But you might be interested to know that unofficially the wife is being taught and is a sort of protégé of Brit Warner."
"Brit Warner?" Gris repeated surprised.
"Who's Brit Warner?" Sara asked.
"Brit Warner is a retired criminologist. The best Las Vegas policing have known. Probably one of the best in the country," Gris filled her in.
"What does he do now?" Sara inquired.
"Stays at home as far as I know. He retired, because he got a bullet in his leg which left him crippled. Also he was going to quit anyway, after his wife and daughter were kidnapped and then murdered," Catherine answered this time.
"Poor guy. You worked with him?"
Both of the CSIs nodded. Grissom saw Catherine looking suspiciously around the room. He could hear the clogs turning as she was piecing something together. He realised what after a few moments.
"You think the wife did it."
It was more of a statement then a question. Catherine looked up in surprise, but nodded.
"She seems like a likely suspect. She has access to get in here and she knows how forensics works. So far our killer's been doing a good job covering their tracks."
"True," He agreed, "But you can learn how to cover basic forensics from book or T.V. What do you think Sara?"
Both sets of eyes were fixed on her now as they waited for an answer.
'As usual, when mum and dad can't agree they stick the child in the middle,' She though grimly.
"I agree with Cath," She answered carefully, "The wife does seem the most likely suspect at the moment."
Catherine smiled triumphantly, but Grissom didn't notice. He was distracted by something on the desk. He walked over and pointed at the answering machine.
"There're two unheard messages here," He informed the others, "I think we should find out what they say, maybe they'll give us some clues."
He pressed the button and Ethan Sinclair's voice filled the room; "Hi, you've reached the home of Ethan and Jenny Sinclair. We're unable to get to the phone right now, but if you just leave a message after the tone we'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks. 'BEEEP!'"
The first message was left by a man, who's voice was slightly raspy from years of smoking; "Hello Ethan. It's your father here. Where are you son? It's 11.30, you were meant to be here an hour ago. This isn't like you. If you're sick just give me a buzz. Call me son. Bye."
'BEEEP!'
"Hey Ethan," A female voice, smooth and gentle, now filled the quite room, "I'm on my mobile and my battery is almost out. I'm guessing Rosa isn't here yet. First class was a bitch, but I'll tell you more when I get back. I'm going to be doing some work and studying in the library before my next class at 2. I'll try and be home in between 1.30 and 2. Oh and I'm meant to be seeing Brit later as well. I've got to go. Sorry. I love you Ethan and I'll be seeing you soon."
'Except you won't," Gris thought, 'You'll be seeing us.'
A/N: What do you think? Feedback is much appreciated, so hit that button now! Lol!
A/N: Wow! Thanks so much for the reviews. A Bloom, Sara Sidle Stokes, Melindotty, The Madhatter, MissyJane, me and Pagan, you guys rock! Sorry about any mistakes in this chapter. I don't have a degree in forensics and I haven't been to Las Vegas. I have tried to find out as much as possible over the internet and from books. I also don't know what degrees you can study over there or the lengths, so sorry if I've got them wrong. Oh, this might sound a bit stupid, but does anyone know how to get italics and bold to work on this? Well R&R and enjoy - Bex
The sun still shone as Gil Grissom removed his sunglasses, as he stepped into the house. All ready prepared with his latex gloves he walked down the corridor to the crime scene. As he approached the study, he could hear the faint clicking of a camera. He stood in the doorframe and watched as Sara took the last pictures of the body and the glass lying next to it. Sensing his presences, she looked up and gave him a warm smile.
"I'm almost done here. They can remove the body in a moment," Sara pause. "Tell me again Gris why I got drag out of bed to a crime scene that should belong to the dayshift?"
"Because, my dear Miss Sidle, the Sinclairs have a lot of power and they want their son's death investigated thoroughly. So that means they want the best. And we are the best," He dragged at the last few words to emphasise his point.
"Bet Ecklie isn't happy to hear that," She smiled.
Grissom smiled slightly back at her in response. It was true, Ecklie was fuming when he found out and despised Grissom even more for it.
'It's so hard being at the top,' He thought happily to himself.
He walked into the room. Slowly and carefully he circled the body, taking in the first details. In front of him was the body of Ethan Sinclair. He was a Caucasian male, around 6 foot and well built. His hair was a sandy blond, which was in a smart, trim cut. Grissom couldn't tell what his eyes colour was, because his eyes lids were shut, but from a photo he saw in the room, they were a mix of blue and green. He also knew that most women would consider him to be very good looking.
He stared at the photo for a couple of minutes. It was from Ethan's wedding day. Him and his wife stood there wrapped in each other's arms. He was dressed in a traditional tux. Jennifer Sinclair was wearing a delicate, white lace dress. She had mahogany coloured hair, which looked quite red in some lights and emerald eyes. She was undeniably beautiful. They held each other tightly, hopelessly in love. Their hands entwined so much that it muddled up their new wedding rings. They looked so happy. They looked life a perfect couple.
'But looks can be deceptive,' Grissom though gravely.
He was too lost in his own thoughts to realise that Sara had finished. She crossed the room and stood just outside the door.
"I'm done. You can removed the body now," She called down the hall.
Two men entered, they placed Ethan Sinclair into a body bag, and then lifted him onto a stretcher, before carrying him out. Grissom watched them briefly then turned his attention to something else, the suicide letter. He read it once and then reread it.
"What is it about this letter that has the maid so convinced it's a fake?" Grissom asked Sara and no one in particular at the same time.
"Well if you compare it to one of those documents on the desk, you can see that they don't quite match. They're similar, but not written by the same person."
Sara handed him one of the documents off the desk so he could compare the signatures. Grissom studied them both carefully. The one on the document flowed perfectly, where as the letter was more jerky and unsure. A sort of stop and start effect. Also Ethan Sinclair's 'S's seemed to have a natural swirl to them, but the one on the letter seemed forced. It was a very good forgery, but not perfect. Not foolproof. Grissom looked up at Sara.
"So if a letter by a body is trying to convince us it's suicide, turns out to be a fake..."
"It looks like it was probably murder," Sara finished.
Grissom smiled; "Exactly. I think we should get a document expert in to see if they can find anything else about this, which might help us catch out our killer," He mused as he bagged the letter and a document to compare the handwriting with.
"I've already done it. They're going to be arriving at HQ around 2.15," Sara replied.
'Two steps ahead as usual,' Grissom thought proudly.
"You took a swab of the liquid inside the glass?'
"Yep and checked it for finger prints. No clear ones, most of them are smeared."
'Damn,' Grissom swore silently.
"Do you know what was in the glass?"
"It smelt like bourbon, so I took a sample of the open bottle from the liquor cabinet to compare," Sara informed, pointing at the cabinet.
Grissom nodded.
"Well if you bag it, we'll see if our murderer was kind enough to leave us a clue to their identity," Grissom suggested as he took out his ALS.
Sara bagged the evidence and did the same. They started from opposite ends of the room and slowly walked the grid, shinning the blue light at the floor, as they searched for footprints.
"Errr!" Sara moaned in frustration, "The only prints here belong to the maid. The only other thing I found was brush strokes."
"Which means Mr Sinclair either kindly swept up after dying or the killer's covering their tracks," Gris concluded.
"I'm going with option number two," a voice piped in from the door.
He turned to face the door, though he already knew whom it was. Standing there in a red shirt, top buttons undone, and black slacks, blue eyes twinkling with thought and a pair of shades perched on top of her blond hair, was Catherine Willows. She smiled at Sara in greeting and flashed an even more brilliant one at Grissom.
'How is it that every time I see her, she seems to look even more incredible then the last?' Grissom wondered, but quickly pushed those thoughts aside.
"Hey, sorry I interrupted your day with Lindsey, but..." Grissom started to apologise, but Catherine cut him off.
"It's no biggy. She met up with a friend and is going to sleep over her house," Catherine shrugged it off. "You know Lindsey, the social butterfly."
They caught each other's gaze, their eyes locking into place. Grissom could tell she was upset. She didn't spend as much time with her daughter as she would like to and he felt guilty for it.
Sara looked from one to the other. They were rapped up with staring at each other, that they had forgotten she was there. She cleared her throat to remind them.
"Sara would you take the evidence we've bagged to be transported with the body. Oh and give Greg a ring to warn him it's coming. Make sure you stress that it's his priority. I want to know what's in the glass," Grissom instructed.
"Sure thing boss," Sara replied dryly.
She collected the bagged evidence and left the room. Not once while Grissom was speaking to her did he look at her. Not once did he break his eye contact with Catherine. She sighed. She doubted that they had realised that she'd left.
'They've got it bad for each other. Everyone else can see it, so why can't they?" She mused as she walked outside.
After a few moments, Grissom reluctantly broke eye.
"Found anything?" Cath asked.
"No. The murderer's been covering their tracks," He paused. "What can you tell me about our victim?"
He nodded at the documents in Catherine's hand.
"Ethan Sinclair was 28. Parents were Robert Sinclair owner of Oasis Casino and Hotel, and Paula Sinclair, maiden name Geller. Mother is deceased. He worked for his father, though own a few properties of his own. Recently brought an apartment block. Has one sibling, a brother, Julian Sinclair. Ethan married Jennifer Stone about 4 years ago. Wasn't approved of by his family. One of his best friends, Melissa Lukas, died of an heroin O.D seven months ago," Catherine answered half by memory and half by reading.
"The one mentioned in the 'suicide letter'? The person who it said he couldn't live with out?"
Cath nodded.
"But he showed no signs of depression or of being suicidal."
"Humm.... Tell me about the father."
"Robert Sinclair is 57. He's a very rich and powerful man, as I'm sure you know. Remarried to a woman called Tiffany Olsen, 21 years his junior. She strongly disapproved of Ethan marrying Ms Stone, because of she came from a poor background. Warrick and Nick are talking to them now."
She paused and waited for Grissom to tell her who he wanted to hear about next. But he didn't make a sound. He was too busy looking around at the crime scene, completely absorbed in his own thoughts. Catherine decided to move on and choose the next person herself.
"Julian Sinclair is 30. Also works for their father. He's not married..."
"Tell me about the wife, Jenny," He cut her off.
Catherine raised an eyebrow at the fact that he had used Jenny instead of Mrs Sinclair or Jennifer Sinclair or Jennifer for that matter. But Grissom didn't notice this look.
"Jennifer Sinclair, maiden name Stone. She's 25. She's got a degree in Basic Psychology and, get this, is studying Forensic Science at UNVL. Almost completed her degree as well. Her father was Mathew Stone, an English professor. He was murdered when she was 12, street mugging, perp never found," She read off the file, "Mother is Rachel Farrell, shop assistant, estranged from her daughter. Jennifer met Ethan when she was 19 and they got married a while after she turned 21."
Catherine noticed that Grissom was staring at the picture of the couple. More importantly his eyes were fixed on Jennifer.
"Forensics eh..." Grissom muttered to himself, "Anybody been able to contact her?"
Catherine shook her head, "Nope. We couldn't find out where she is from the maid, Rosa Walker, because she's too hysterical to speak. But we think that she might have had a class this morning. Gris?"
"Yeah?" He answered, eyes not leaving the photo.
She was thinking about approaching this carefully, but the words just blurted out; "Why are you so interested in her?"
His head snapped around to face her, his eyes locking once more into her steady gaze. He thought about denying it, but he knew she would be able tell that he was lying. Sometimes he hated how she could read him like an open book.
"It's nothing...it's just..." He started and sighed, "It's just that she seems familiar that's all," He shrugged, "Maybe it'll come to me."
"Good news guys," Sara announced as she re-entered the room, "Evidence is on its way back to the labs and I've talked to Greg, but that's not it. The good news is that Rosa Walker has calmed down, so we might be able to talk to her."
"Good," Cath commented.
Gris only raised an eyebrow. He didn't trust witnesses, only the evidence. Though he did wonder if Mrs Walker could give them any ideas about what happened.
"Still haven't been able to contact the wife?" He asked.
Sara shook her head. Gris sighed slightly and turned to Catherine.
"Any other bits of information you know that might be important?"
"Not really. But you might be interested to know that unofficially the wife is being taught and is a sort of protégé of Brit Warner."
"Brit Warner?" Gris repeated surprised.
"Who's Brit Warner?" Sara asked.
"Brit Warner is a retired criminologist. The best Las Vegas policing have known. Probably one of the best in the country," Gris filled her in.
"What does he do now?" Sara inquired.
"Stays at home as far as I know. He retired, because he got a bullet in his leg which left him crippled. Also he was going to quit anyway, after his wife and daughter were kidnapped and then murdered," Catherine answered this time.
"Poor guy. You worked with him?"
Both of the CSIs nodded. Grissom saw Catherine looking suspiciously around the room. He could hear the clogs turning as she was piecing something together. He realised what after a few moments.
"You think the wife did it."
It was more of a statement then a question. Catherine looked up in surprise, but nodded.
"She seems like a likely suspect. She has access to get in here and she knows how forensics works. So far our killer's been doing a good job covering their tracks."
"True," He agreed, "But you can learn how to cover basic forensics from book or T.V. What do you think Sara?"
Both sets of eyes were fixed on her now as they waited for an answer.
'As usual, when mum and dad can't agree they stick the child in the middle,' She though grimly.
"I agree with Cath," She answered carefully, "The wife does seem the most likely suspect at the moment."
Catherine smiled triumphantly, but Grissom didn't notice. He was distracted by something on the desk. He walked over and pointed at the answering machine.
"There're two unheard messages here," He informed the others, "I think we should find out what they say, maybe they'll give us some clues."
He pressed the button and Ethan Sinclair's voice filled the room; "Hi, you've reached the home of Ethan and Jenny Sinclair. We're unable to get to the phone right now, but if you just leave a message after the tone we'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks. 'BEEEP!'"
The first message was left by a man, who's voice was slightly raspy from years of smoking; "Hello Ethan. It's your father here. Where are you son? It's 11.30, you were meant to be here an hour ago. This isn't like you. If you're sick just give me a buzz. Call me son. Bye."
'BEEEP!'
"Hey Ethan," A female voice, smooth and gentle, now filled the quite room, "I'm on my mobile and my battery is almost out. I'm guessing Rosa isn't here yet. First class was a bitch, but I'll tell you more when I get back. I'm going to be doing some work and studying in the library before my next class at 2. I'll try and be home in between 1.30 and 2. Oh and I'm meant to be seeing Brit later as well. I've got to go. Sorry. I love you Ethan and I'll be seeing you soon."
'Except you won't," Gris thought, 'You'll be seeing us.'
A/N: What do you think? Feedback is much appreciated, so hit that button now! Lol!