Sudsy's Bar
Warrick walked into a dark, smoky bar. When his eyes finally adjusted he saw five older men and one middle-aged woman at the bar. There was an older man-tending bar, he looked at Warrick, then turned his back on him. Warrick knew the only kinds of people who come to a bar like this are lifers. Warrick saw O'Riley and a uniform holding a scruffy looking man in his mid- thirties at the end of the bar. The man was in a dirty shirt, covered with blood. His hair was disheveled. He had cuts on his hand and bruises on his face.
"Hey fella's, what's up?" greeted a grim Warrick.
"A scumbag, woman beater," spat O'Riley. "With blood on his shirt and cuts on his hand. Warrick Brown, meet Roger Hammond."
Warrick brightened a little, blood evidence right out in the open was probably the best news he had all night.
"Cool, easy evidence, I like that."
Warrick set his kit on a table and opened it. He took out some swabs and started with the gash on Roger's hand. Roger kept fidgeting, he didn't like being poked and prodded by a bunch of cops. Even in his drunken stupor made him cocky.
"The blood's mine...well, mine and Andy Daltrey's. What's it to you?"
Warrick looked up at the bloodied man. He was having a hard time keeping his cool. This man was nothing but a hateful drunk.
"What's it to me? I'm a CSI and this is evidence in a homicide and kidnapping."
Roger looked very confused.
"What? What are you talking about?" Roger motioned to his hand. "I got this in a scuffle. Daltrey's nothin' but a damn welcher. He owed me money."
"Yeah, yeah save it." grunted O'Riley. He had no time for this guy's bullshit.
"I wanna know what the hell's going on?" demanded Roger. "Who got killed?"
"You're girlfriend...the one you used as a punching bag. And now her daughter's missing. You know where she is?" answered Warrick. Warrick was more thinking out loud then asking.
"What? Katie's dead? Are you serious? What happened?" Roger sputtered in a shocked voice.
"I'm going to need to take the shirt with me." Warrick said as he got out a large plastic evidence bag.
"You heard him." barked O'Riley. "Give him the shirt."
"Oh man, I can't believe this," Roger whined as he took off the bloodied shirt. Warrick carefully placed it into the bag and labeled it.
Warrick didn't say anything as he packed up his evidence kit. He wasn't buying the shocked act and had to get out of there before he punched the jerk.
"Okay, I got my evidence. You can take him back to the station now. I wanna get this to DNA."
O'Riley nodded and started to lead Roger out after Warrick.
Warrick walked into a dark, smoky bar. When his eyes finally adjusted he saw five older men and one middle-aged woman at the bar. There was an older man-tending bar, he looked at Warrick, then turned his back on him. Warrick knew the only kinds of people who come to a bar like this are lifers. Warrick saw O'Riley and a uniform holding a scruffy looking man in his mid- thirties at the end of the bar. The man was in a dirty shirt, covered with blood. His hair was disheveled. He had cuts on his hand and bruises on his face.
"Hey fella's, what's up?" greeted a grim Warrick.
"A scumbag, woman beater," spat O'Riley. "With blood on his shirt and cuts on his hand. Warrick Brown, meet Roger Hammond."
Warrick brightened a little, blood evidence right out in the open was probably the best news he had all night.
"Cool, easy evidence, I like that."
Warrick set his kit on a table and opened it. He took out some swabs and started with the gash on Roger's hand. Roger kept fidgeting, he didn't like being poked and prodded by a bunch of cops. Even in his drunken stupor made him cocky.
"The blood's mine...well, mine and Andy Daltrey's. What's it to you?"
Warrick looked up at the bloodied man. He was having a hard time keeping his cool. This man was nothing but a hateful drunk.
"What's it to me? I'm a CSI and this is evidence in a homicide and kidnapping."
Roger looked very confused.
"What? What are you talking about?" Roger motioned to his hand. "I got this in a scuffle. Daltrey's nothin' but a damn welcher. He owed me money."
"Yeah, yeah save it." grunted O'Riley. He had no time for this guy's bullshit.
"I wanna know what the hell's going on?" demanded Roger. "Who got killed?"
"You're girlfriend...the one you used as a punching bag. And now her daughter's missing. You know where she is?" answered Warrick. Warrick was more thinking out loud then asking.
"What? Katie's dead? Are you serious? What happened?" Roger sputtered in a shocked voice.
"I'm going to need to take the shirt with me." Warrick said as he got out a large plastic evidence bag.
"You heard him." barked O'Riley. "Give him the shirt."
"Oh man, I can't believe this," Roger whined as he took off the bloodied shirt. Warrick carefully placed it into the bag and labeled it.
Warrick didn't say anything as he packed up his evidence kit. He wasn't buying the shocked act and had to get out of there before he punched the jerk.
"Okay, I got my evidence. You can take him back to the station now. I wanna get this to DNA."
O'Riley nodded and started to lead Roger out after Warrick.
