Thicker Than Water
C/C
By Bexster
I would just like to add that as much as I'd like to be one, I'm not a forensic scientist, I get all my information from my own head influenced by tv. I apologise if it seems lame or is wrong.
I would like to at this point make a thank you to the Graveyard gang, although I haven't been there very long, I feel very inspired by all of you!
Disclaimer – Not mine, CBS, although I would be grateful if they'd let me have Grissom once a week to come stand in my lounge…
3
After Grissom left, Nick began to search the house for clues as to where the suspect may be, and had worked his way up to the main bedroom. It was a mess, and he sighed as he walked in through the door, knowing that his day was continually getting longer. "So much for a late breakfast," he lamented to himself and started to go through the room.
He had not gone much past the first chest of drawers when his cell phone rang. He was grateful for the interruption and quickly pulled it from his pocket.
"Stokes."
"It's Warrick," came the voice from the man standing in the other crime scene.
"Hey man, how are you doing?"
"Not too good. The suspect is nowhere to be found."
"Same here. I'm searching this house from top to bottom and I can't find any clues as to where this guy's gone."
"You know what this means don't you." Warrick sounded annoyed.
"Manhunt," they exclaimed in unison.
"Man I hate those things," Nick said, shaking his head.
"Right. Brass has gone back to HQ to organise one. Anything we find we have to relay directly to him."
"Does Grissom know?"
"Brass is telling the rest of the teams himself. He muttered something about trying to find someone he didn't like to tell Gris."
"Well I sure wouldn't want to be the one to tell him. Not today."
"Me neither. Listen I got to finish up here and go back to the lab and process. I'll catch you back there."
"Sure. See you there."
Nick hung up dropped his head down in despair. The day just got even longer.
Grissom sat in the bar with Maggie happily chewing a piece of pancake for his breakfast. He had been plying her with questions since they left the crime scene, amazed that she had got them all right.
"The professor tried to trick us in the final test. Gave us a hang glider that had supposedly fallen from his harness and dropped several thousand feet and been killed on impact. Initial autopsy report showed he had died from oxygen starvation and just dropped, and he recommended to the coroner a verdict of misadventure."
"Is that what happened?"
"No. He'd fallen into a field, which was plausible enough, and although there wasn't enough blood splatter, it was consistent with the fact he may not have fallen on his head."
"But…" Gil was waiting for the answer.
"He was placed at the top end of an incline. If he'd landed there from a height, he wouldn't have fallen exactly straight down, and he would have rolled to the bottom of the incline, which he hadn't. So I figured he'd been placed there."
"What about the evidence, Maggie? It's the most important part."
"Uncle Gil, if there was only one thing that I would remember you telling me, is that it's all about the evidence."
"Well done. I'm glad to have taught you something you'll remember."
Maggie grinned her response. "I got autopsy to re-examine the head wound, and I took swabs from under the fingernails to check that the blue tinge from oxygen deprivation was just that. Which it wasn't."
"Let me guess, blue food dye?" He watched as she looked at him, stunned.
"Yeah. How'd you know?"
"I guess they don't change the test criteria that often. I did that one."
"Did you solve it?"
"It hurts me that you have to even ask." He paused and took another mouthful of pancake. "Did you?"
"Of course I did. Once I'd worked out the hill thing, it wasn't that difficult."
"Life isn't a test though. It has the ability to throw things at you that can knock you sideways."
"Then it's not an accurate test."
"Not completely, no."
His cell phone rang, and he frowned, annoyed by the interruption as he answered.
"Grissom."
"It's Brass. Got some bad news for you pal."
"What?" He sat up in his chair.
"The suspects are clean away with no leads. Manhunt time." Grissom's sigh was quite clearly audible to the detective down the phone.
"Alright, I'm on my way to the lab."
"See you there."
He turned back to Maggie and shrugged apologetically. "Work."
"Can I come?"
"Sure, why not. You'll have to stay either in the break room or my office."
"Ok," she agreed as they stood to leave.
"And you have to phone your Mom as soon as we get there to let her know."
"I will." They made their way out to the car.
"I want to make sure you do as I say, Maggie," he informed her as he fastened his seat belt.
"Come on Uncle Gil! I'm not a kid anymore. You say stay, I will."
He looked across at her.
"You've grown up way too fast." He watched as she rolled her eyes before driving to work.
Warrick was in the break room waiting for Brass to come and start his briefing when Grissom and Maggie walked in. He instantly stood and walked over to them.
"Maggie!" he exclaimed and quickly wrapped his arms around her. "Man, look at you."
"Seems like years," she replied, and he leant down to give her a quick kiss, looking up slightly worried when her heard Grissom very loudly clear his throat from the other side of the room.
"He's just playing up now," she smiled as she informed Warrick.
"I heard that," Grissom replied, a less than pleased look on his face. Despite her expression, Maggie hoped that she hadn't annoyed him too much. With much regret, she let Warrick go and walked over to the counter where Grissom had carried a pile of folders.
"Maggie, you know how…"
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry Uncle Gil, its just, well, it's just."
"I know, but I don't approve." He watched as she shook her head, but she let him nag her like that. He'd given her a lecture the last time she'd visited because she and Warrick had spent too much time together for his liking, but whatever she wanted, she had always respected his words, and she wasn't about to cause a scene in front of anyone else. "How about you go sit in my office for a bit, read a book."
"Play with a bug?"
He sent an exasperated expression in her direction, remembering again how young she really was.
"Sorry."
"I know. Go on. I'll be along soon."
She gave him a quick hug before leaving the break room, waving to Warrick as she left. Grissom went and sat down at the table ready for Brass, noting with amusement that the younger CSI was looking everywhere but in his direction and looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"Did you two have any success on your scenes?" he asked, as soon as Nick had entered and sat down at the table."
"Nothing," Nick replied. "I searched everywhere, and nothing. Just have to wait and see what the search teams throw up for us now."
"And fast," Warrick added, "Before they kill again."
Brass picked his moment and walked into the room, Sara and Catherine in tow. They took their places at the table and waited.
"Right, people. I have teams out all over the city looking for clues, sightings, gum wrappers, anything we can link to our suspects. You know the rules. Manhunts mean that you are all on call until we find something, so I'll be getting in contact with you if I need. Other than that, you get to do whatever you want. Just leave your pagers on." He looked across at Grissom who nodded his understanding. It was just procedure, but it was important. Brass turned and headed for the door. "I'll see you later. Time to go catch some bad guys."
