This story is based on characters created by Anthony E. Zuiker for the television series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.

Remuneration, Part 34
by Cheers

He had thought about how it would feel. How it would make him feel. How excited he would be - emotionally, physically, sexually. The warmth of the body next to his, the tightness, the promised release all tumbled through his thoughts. Would it be like before? As welcomed? As freeing? The anticipation caused his mouth to literally water and his heart to beat faster. He tapped the steering wheel with his fingers in nervous repetition.

Thinking about it consumed him as he drove. The small whimpers from the back seat didn't bother him. The sound of his dog panting didn't bother him. The seemingly endless red lights along Industrial Road didn't bother him. His mind was simply somewhere else.


"Sure, I knew Durant," Christopher DiMarco told Jim Brass in response to the detective's question. While Brass and Catherine sat with the suspect at the dining table, Warrick, Sara, and Officer Nobilo searched the apartment.

"Knew?" Brass said suspiciously. Catherine noticed as well, and met the detective's gaze. "How, exactly, did you know Mr. Durant?" Jim continued.

DiMarco shrugged. "I'm a dealer. Joe was a regular."

Catherine was again struck by the use of the past tense. "A dealer," she said, "at the Monaco."

"Used to work there, yeah," DiMarco said.

Brass nodded. "That's right. You were fired a few months back. Cheating the house I think your boss told us."

Chris looked a bit startled by this last revelation. Catherine noticed and said, "We've already talked to the pit bosses at the Monaco, Mr. DiMarco. We know about the scam you and Mr. Durant were running."

In the living room, Warrick was searching through and under the furniture. DiMarco had placed a fitted cover over the sofa. The CSI laughed to himself. Why bother buying a new one when a cover would do? The charcoal fabric of the sofa cover went all the way to the floor. Pulling the fabric back, Warrick noticed the original patterned upholstery of the sofa. It was Golden Heartland, a perfect match to the recliner in which the victim was found.

As Sara looked through the clothing hanging in the bedroom closet, Officer Nobilo was busy looking through the drawers of a dresser. There was nothing of obvious importance noticeable about the garments in the closet, so Sara began to inspect the walls and floor. Working methodically, she swept her flashlight beam over the surfaces looking for irregularities. She found none. Looking up, Sara aimed the beam of her flashlight at the ceiling.

"Huh," Sara said to herself.


"There isn't an on-line searchable database," Carl Paulson explained to Grissom. "I have a uniform assigned to pick up the list once it's compiled by the city clerk from the records she keeps on file."

Gil looked at Paulson. "And you think that by cross-checking the list of matching vehicle owners with the list of dog licenses paid for this past year we might find our guy." The two men were seated at Gil's dining table with files opened on the surface. Nick had stepped away from the table a few paces and was checking in with Conrad Ecklie via cell phone and updating the day shift CSI supervisor about the new developments in the case since, technically, Ecklie was still in charge of the investigation.

"I do," the detective said. "I know it's a long shot," Carl contended, "but short of doing a door-to-door inquiry for a male that fits our criteria, I couldn't think of a better place to start."

Nodding his approval, Gil told Carl, "That's good thinking. He may be on the list. If he's not, though…."

"Right," Nick said into his cell phone as he moved back to the table. Both Grissom and Paulson looked up at the junior CSI. "I'll tell him." Shutting off his phone and sitting back down, Nick met Grissom's expectant gaze.

"So what wisdom did Conrad have to offer?" Gil asked.

"Nothing about our case," Nick informed Grissom. "He's a little pissed that we had Mrs. Danbridge and Ms. McCallister listen to the tape without him here."

Gil grinned slightly, "I don't doubt it."

"He'll get over it," Nick replied, only half as derisively as he felt. "He does think having Ms. McCallister look through the mug shots of known sex offenders is a good idea," he continued. "He's promised to go over and see how she's doing. O'Riley is helping with that at the station as well."

Again Gil nodded. "So, where does that leave us?"

Just as Grissom asked the question, Paulson's cell phone began to ring. "Excuse me," he told the other two men as he reached into his coat pocket to retrieve it.

"Paulson," he said into the phone. The two crime scene investigators waited. "When?" Carl asked, a grave tone in his voice and a facial expression that was pure business. Grissom knew the look and the tone all too well. The initial question was followed by "Where?" and "APB?" as Paulson scrawled notes on his pocket pad. "Fine," the detective said after another few moments. "We'll be right there."

Nick and Grissom exchanged brief looks as Paulson closed his phone. "That was O'Riley," Carl told the investigators. "We've got another missing child."

"What?" Nick said, shocked and alarmed by the news.

"A seven-year-old girl," Paulson repeated the facts. "She was last seen in the park across the street from her home. She was with a man who neighbors say was walking a large black dog."