Don't Be a Bad Boy

Chapter Five

5 - A NEW PREY

Carl saw the man out of the corner of his eye. Maybe it was the brightly coloured shirt, something of a Hawaiian castoff or something. His head spun around, his curiosity taken the better of him. He stared open mouthed as the young man bounced and jiggled around the stands, some books under his arm. His hair was gelled and spiked like some kind of electric storm was happening in his body causing him to vibrate like he was doing.
He forgot his reason for being in the bookstore and just stared as the young man continued hopping down the aisle and disappeared from sight. Moving a few steps, Carl found him again crouched before a display, hands and fingers roaming over books like he was reading them from the tips of his fingers. Even in this crouched position, his body continued to move to some unheard tempo only the young man seemed to hear. His lips were moving, humming some tune or other. Having found his desired book, the young man jumped back and tucked it under his arm and skipped to another part of the store.
Just the man's energy would have been enough for anyone to follow out of sheer curiosity, but to Carl there was something else. The young man's obvious exuberance and constant motion stroked something in Carl that he'd thought was long dead.
Beneath the kaleidoscopic shirt, the young man wore some non-descript pair jeans that hung loosely from his hips along with a pair of sneakers. There was no telling his age from his clothes or his behavior, but Carl would have guessed early twenties, a recent addition to the student core that always came to Vegas in between bouts of demanding school work.
He dropped his own books on an empty shelf and followed the young man outside, keeping a discreet distance. No use spooking him until he could find out more. And he would. The urging in his loins told him so.
Fuck him!
Shut up.
Fuck him! Fuck him now! Drag him behind those bushes and fuck him!
I said shut up.
Fuck you then.
The bushes went past him and the young man continue down toward another shop. It was one of those shops that Carl would never have dared enter. It was too gaudy for his tastes, so he stayed outside and sat on a bench, picking up a discarded newspaper and waited.
It didn't take long, perhaps the young man hadn't found something to his tastes. He came out a few minutes later, still with his book bag in hand and nothing else.
Carl kept his eyes on him until he felt it was safe to get up.
He lost him around a corner and felt a moment of panic, like finding oneself suddenly in a strange and alien world. But then he got sight of him again as he stood by a car. He was clapping someone's outstretched hand, a tall dark-haired man with a striking smile. But this one did nothing for Carl. He was too male. The two men chatted for a short time and then they both got into the car and it disappeared.
Carl leaned against the wall, a mewling sound squeaking through his lips. Maybe that was his lover, he thought. A sinking, dragging feeling came over him in his chest and he had to force the breath in and to keep the sob in as well. He stared in the direction the car had disappeared, willing for it to return and the young man to get out and come to him. Or at least to see him again. In a city the size of Vegas, what were the chances of him seeing such perfection again?
He sighed, pushed himself away from the wall and disappeared into the crowd.

"So what'dya find?" Nick asked as they pulled into the parking lot at CSI Headquarters.
Greg held up a magazine, Journal of DNA. "Just the latest issue. There's a series I'm following. Oh, and this too," he pulled out the book, Blood Spatter Analysis.
"Blood spatter? Since when do you work on that?"
"When I'm a CSI, I will," Greg said, with a lilt in his voice.
Nick laughed. "Right. When you're a CSI. Tell me, Greg, what would we do without your music blaring all night long. It'd be boring without you."
"Yeah, well. Get used to it. As much as I love the lab, I am going to get out of it someday. Do you know how boring it is to just press buttons all shift long? I want to do something that requires at bit more of my massive intelligence."
" Massive'," Nick guffawed. "Yeah, we'll see."
"Oh, you will, Nick my boy. You will."
"We're here. Get back into your lab, Greggy boy."
"My lab, Nick. Remember that. I am master of my lab. So says Grissom."
Nick just smiled as the young man got out and practically skipped into the building. He followed behind as soon as he'd retrieved his own case from his trunk.

"So, what's on the plate tonight, boss?" Warrick asked.
"Quiet night actually," Grissom answered, his hands empty.
"What?" asked Nick.
"I'm scared," Sara said, smiling.
"Yeah," Catherine said. "Just wait though, at about midnight, it's all gonna come crashing down and we won't know what hit us."
Warrick harumphed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You know what this means right?"
Everybody including Grissom looked at Warrick.
"Paperwork."
There were moans and groans throughout the group as Grissom looked from one to the other, a small smile on his face. "Paperwork," he said.
"Oh joy," Catherine commented, rising from her seat, grabbing her coffee and leaving the room to find her own pile.
"Ditto," Warrick said, following closely behind.
Nick sat back, arms over his chest, a broad smile on his face.
"What's that for?" Sara demanded.
"I'm finished all mine," Nick announced smugly.
Sara sneered and threw a coffee lid at him.
"Hey, can I help it if I like to stay on track?"
Sara mumbled something under her breath. "Yeah, well, we still have that triple homicide case open. Why don't you go rifle through that?"
Nick sighed, sitting forward. "We've been through it all a dozen times. There's barely anything to go on. No DNA, no hairs, no fingerprints, nothing. The guy's cleaner than my mother!"
Grissom glanced up just as Sara turned her head. They both looked at Nick.
"There's always something, Nick," Grissom said in his quintessential staid voice, his eyes staring but a moment on the Texan before returning to the examination of his folded hands.
"Not in this one, Grissom. The guy's clean."
"No one's clean."
Nick sighed, rubbed his face, got and disappeared in the hallway.
"What about you?" Grissom asked Sara.
"Me? I've got paperwork, sure."
Grissom looked at her above the rim of his glasses, his eyebrows raised in silent question.
"I'm getting to it," she said. "It's not going to go away. I'd just like to enjoy my coffee in peace."
"Time, Sara. Time is always of the essence."
"Nick's right, Grissom. This guy's good. We've been through the stuff a dozen times and we still come up empty handed."
Grissom sighed and sat back, keeping his eyes on Sara. "There has to be something."
"I'm telling you Grissom. You've been through it just like the rest of us. There is nothing there." She enunciated the last words carefully, making her point.
"No one is that good, Sara. People forget, people make mistakes."
"Well apparently, not this one."
Grissom was silent as his mind tackled the very real possibility that there would probably be another murder before they caught him. The status of second best lab in the country came to mind and its probably slipping in ratings if they didn't catch this guy. But that thought was secondary to the fact that people were being murdered and he and his team were unable to catch him. Three murders. There ought to be something by now.
"He'll get lazy," Sara said. "They usually do."
"I know. I just don't want to think about how many people have to die before he gets lazy enough to leave us a clue."
Sara stared at Grissom. His voice had changed. Perhaps his wall was cracking, she thought. "We'll catch him, Grissom. He won't get away."
Grissom only stared at her and said nothing. But they both knew the words that went unsaid. Maybe this time, this case, would be filed as unsolved'.

~*~

Copyright © 2003 Anansay