Warning: This portion of the story contains graphic material/difficult subject matter.

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

Remuneration, Part 37
by Cheers

Nick Stokes pulled up his Tahoe in front of a very modest single-story house. Gil Grissom got out of the passenger side immediately. Carl Paulson and Ray O'Riley were already there. A police cruiser was parked around the corner and down a few doors.

Parked in the driveway of the home was a 1998 Ford Explorer. O'Riley was looking through the front window of the driver's side. Nick moved to the passenger side and turned his flashlight on to look through the window on that side. The interior was tan.

"Find anything yet?" Nick asked the sergeant.

"Just got here," O'Riley told him.

On the floorboard of the Explorer, Nick spotted a kid's meal box from a local fast food restaurant. "There's a happy meal box in there," he said. "Do we know if this guy has any kids?"

"According to his records, he's never been married," Paulson informed him. "No mention of dependents either."

"These are brand new tires," Grissom said. He had been inspecting the rear of the vehicle and was crouched down at the driver's side rear bumper. He stood and moved to look at the tires on the passenger side. "All the way 'round."

"Getting rid of evidence?" Nick offered.

"Maybe," Gil said as he moved to stand next to Nick and look through the passenger windows. There wasn't much more to be seen from outside the vehicle. "And maybe he'll be willing to let us have a look inside."

"Don't hold your breath," O'Riley said dryly.

After the uniform had joined them, the group of men split up with O'Riley and the uniform moving to the side of the house while Grissom, Paulson, and Nick headed for the front door. Nick carried his field kit. He noticed that Grissom was conspicuously without his.


Taking her had been exhilarating. His preparations had paid off and she now lay quiet but breathing. The softest of whimpers had been the only sound she made. He had climaxed and the thrill of the memory of that moment still filled him when he heard the doorbell.

At the sound of the bell his dog began to bark. Looking to make sure she had not regained consciousness, he rose quickly and closed the door to the room. He followed the dog to the front door.


The front door opened fully to reveal a man and a large black lab.

"Hello," the man said, looking down at his dog who barked once more and then simply stood at the man's side and wagged his tail enthusiastically.

"Ben Curtis?" Paulson asked.

"Yes," Curtis said. "That's my name."

"I'm Detective Paulson, Las Vegas Police and this is Dr. Grissom and Nick Stokes. They're with Criminalistics. Do you own the Ford Explorer in the driveway?"

Curtis hesitated for a moment. The arrival of the police had not been a part of his plan for the day. He was even more surprised to be face-to-face with the man reporters had been saying for days was guilty of the death. Resisting the urge to look over his shoulder and make sure the door to the back bedroom was shut, Ben bent down to pet his dog. "Yes, it's mine."

"Do you mind if we take a look inside it?" Nick asked.

Gil Grissom looked past the man in front of him to the portion of the house he could see from the front stoop. The interior of this particular house was as modest as the exterior. Simple furnishings sat in predictable places in the living room. The carpet was beige in color. In the middle of a hallway that led from the front living area to the back of the house, Gil spotted something.

"What's this about?" Curtis was asking.

"What's that?" Grissom asked.

Everyone looked at him. Grissom paid no attention to any of them. His eyes were fixed on the item he saw in the hallway. Without looking away, Gil pulled a plastic evidence bag out of his jacket pocket and held it up. He looked from the plastic barrette in the bag to what looked like an identical barrette lying on the floor.

Ben Curtis followed the criminalist's gaze and saw the barrette as well. He went pale.

"She's here," Grissom said.

Curtis moved to close the door on the men but Grissom was too fast. With a speed that surprised everyone, Gil reached forward and pulled Curtis out of the door and backed him into the wall on the side of the front porch.

"You have her here don't you!" Grissom nearly snarled.

Curtis stared at Grissom with stunned eyes.

"What have you done with her?" Gil demanded, slamming the man's shoulders against the wall again.

Carl Paulson spotted the barrette as soon as Grissom pulled Curtis out of the doorway. Curtis' dog began to bark again, excited by the sudden commotion. Stepping through the doorway into the house, Paulson began to call, "Robin? Are you in here? Robin!"

Nick followed Paulson into the house and moved to the barrette. It was an identical match to the plastic barrette that had been found in the park. Careful not to disturb it, he moved up the hall and looked through the opened door on the right-hand side. It was an empty bathroom.

Paulson moved into the kitchen. He was talking on his phone to O'Riley who was still outside with the uniform. "We're inside," Paulson informed the sergeant. "Grissom has the suspect at the front."

"Got it," O'Riley said. He headed back to the front of the house with the uniform in tow.

"She better be unharmed," Gil hissed dangerously, his anger taking almost complete control now. His grip on Curtis' shirt was so tight that the man had to push himself up on tiptoes to keep from be choked by his own clothing.

Nick reached the open door to the front bedroom and looked inside. The room appeared to be empty as well. Moving quickly, he stepped up to the closed door of the back bedroom. Setting his kit down on the floor, he turned the knob on the door and pushed the door open.

Paulson continued through the kitchen and opened the door to the attached garage. Just as he was about to step through he heard the shout.

"I'VE GOT HER!" Nick yelled.

"You son of a bitch," Gil told Curtis. Filled with rage, he pulled his arm back to hit him when Ray O'Riley grabbed it. The sergeant outweighed Grissom by at least fifty pounds and was able to keep the blow from landing. Nothing less would have spared Ben Curtis.

Robin Freeman lay nude and unconscious on the bed. She was gagged. Her hands were bound and she was bleeding vaginally as well as from a small cut on her left cheek. Checking for a pulse, Nick held his own breath until he felt the faint pounding of the little girl's pulse against the fingers he pressed to her neck. She was breathing.

"SHE'S ALIVE!" Nick shouted. "CALL E-M-S!"

Paulson was already talking with dispatch as he ran into the room. Nick pulled his jacket off and covered Robin with it. He began to work at loosening the gag that filled the little girl's mouth.

"She's breathing," Paulson was saying into his cell phone.

Ben Curtis was cuffed by the uniformed officer while O'Riley kept guard over the enraged CSI. Ray could never remember a time when he had seen Grissom lose control that way. He was fairly certain no one had.