A/N: I know you guys are pissed because I killed Grissom but I thrive on reviews and when you don't leave me any, it hurts. It really does. Please find it in your hearts to help a first-time CSI writer continue on!
Marlena checked her messages on her cell phone, which she had turned off during Layla Feldman's interview. There were three: one from her mother, saying:
"Mara, it's your mommy. Dinner at my house tonight, whether you like it or not. Seven o'clock sharp, missy scientist. Tah-tah, darling."
In the course of less than a minute, her mother had called her three named she despised. Mara had been her nickname since her little sister, just learning to talk, had mispronounced her true name and "missy scientist" was one her father had given her at the age of thirteen. Darling she never liked. She had dumped a past boyfriend because he insisted on calling her darling, like he was on Hart to Hart or something.
The next was from Breeze. She sounded tired.
"I'm waiting outside the castle of Gentileschi for your call about the warrant. Hit me back before I die of heatstroke."
The warrant. Marlena quickly checked her third message and with a sigh of relief, it was the judge. The warrant was granted and they were free to search for strychnine at the Gentileschi place.
Marlena quickly dialed Breeze's cell and prepared to tell her partner that they were going to have a long night.
Brass had left. Breeze was sitting in the Tahoe in the back, the hatch up, playing Snood on her cell phone, avoiding the heat. Her cell all of a sudden vibrated and rang her favorite ring tone she had Greg download for her: the Austin Powers theme song. She quickly exited Snood, sacrificing her chance at a new high score.
"Hamelin," she said as she answered.
"Hey, bacon in the sun. I got the warrant."
"I hope you mean the paper and not the eighties hair band."
"It was as easy as cherry pie," Marlena said. "I'll be over there as soon as I can. Sean Gentileschi doesn't finish work till what, eight? Nine? I promise I'll try to make the drive as fast as my Dodge will go. My mother wants me over for dinner."
"Yikes. Reagan family get-together."
"No kidding. So, relax, head back to HQ and I'll give you a call when Fright Fest is over. Get yourself out of the heat, get some dinner…I know I will."
"Gotcha. You want me to pick up the warrant anywhere?"
"Catherine should have it. That would be great, Breeze. Thanks a lot."
"No, Marlena, thank you," Breeze said in her sickly sweet voice used for suspects, "you've been very helpful."
Marlena got her broad shoulders, thick blonde hair and quick wit from her father Roosevelt Reagan, known as Roo to family and friends. But her stubborn curls, dark brown eyes and well-toned calves were from her mother Jane, called Janey. Marlena was not slow to admit that she wished she'd gotten her parents' "better" qualities, such as her father's elegant hands and crystal-clear blue eyes or her mother's culinary talent and melodic voice. Those features and others she had always considered "better" were peppered between her younger sister Marilyn and her older brother Mark.
Marlena tried to sneak into her parents house in Paradise, Nevada a little after seven-twenty, more than unfashionably late for her mother's taste. But though she impressed herself with her stealth entrance, she was quickly thwarted by her three mischievous nephews who were running amok about the house.
"AUNT MARA!" exclaimed thee simultaneous voices. Immediately Marlena was bombarded by three simultaneous hugging boys: her nephews Riley, Dominic and Shannon.
"Ow! You guys—Riley, not so hard—totally ruined my chances of making a quiet entrance," Marlena smiled. "C'mon I was trying to make a quick getaway."
"Will you play soccer with us, Aunt Mara?" Shannon, age ten, asked.
"If I have time," she promised. "I might have to leave early."
"You always say that," pouted a frowning six-year-old Dominic.
"So have Katresa play," Marlena replied, referring to her six-year-old niece and the sister of Riley and Shannon.
"No," Riley, an eight year old who knew what he wanted, said firmly. "No girls allowed."
"What am I, a duck?"
"Marlena!" exclaimed a new voice, somewhat exasperated. Jane Reagan, her mother, came into the foyer scowling.
"Hi, Mom," Marlena greeted as she unwound Dominic from her waist.
"Late again. I knew you would come late, no matter what time I said."
"I got caught up with a very important investigation—"
"More important than your family?"
"…I had to wait for a warrant to come through and—"
"Ah, well that can't be helped," Jane sighed, feigning interest. "Come on, everyone's outside. And you three," Jane turned to her three impish grandsons, "were told to stay outside!"
"Aw Gram," frowned Shannon. "We jus' heard a car pull up and we was making sure it wasn't robbers."
"Well, it wasn't. It's Aunt Mara, so now you can go back out. C'mon squirts…Gramps is setting up croquet."
"Croquet bites," mumbled Shannon as he stomped out of the foyer.
"Yeah, croquet bites," repeated Dominic.
"Bites," echoed Riley.
"I don't know how Julie handles those boys," Jane shook her head in sympathy for her daughter in law, mother of Riley, Shannon and Katresa. "Well, Marlena, let's go. Now that you're here, Dad can put the steak on the grill."
"Oh, good. I'm starved. I've been working nonstop for more than forty-eight hours with nothing more than Red Bull and burritos from In-and-Out."
"Tsk," Jane sighed. "Nasty stuff. Nothing even remotely healthy?"
"Does coffee count?"
"Oh, Marlena…"
"But coffee's healthy! It's a bean!" she protested as she followed her mother to the backyard.
"Look who's here!" Jane exclaimed as she opened the sliding door to the rear patio for Marlena. "Fresh off the work line!"
"Well, not that fresh," Marlena corrected with a small yawn.
The boys were playing on the giant swing-set Roo had constructed for them three years ago. Katresa, Marlena's oldest niece, was quietly relaxing with a book on a picnic blanket.
The first one to greet her was her brother.
"Hey there, little sister," Mark got up from his lawn chair and hugged Marlena closely. He was tall, but not as tall as Sasha, with dark hair that he kept long. It had grown into an unruly feathered-like mane. "Want a beer? Julie and I brought a few cases of Rolling Rock."
"Sure," Marlena smiled. "Cold, right?"
"But of course," Mark returned the grin. "Jules?"
Julie, Mark's wife, who had been sitting on a plainchant with sunglasses over her pretty gray eyes and a Pirates baseball cap over her red hair, reached into the cooler beside her and pulled out the friendly green-tinted bottle of beer. "How are you, Marlena?"
"Better now," Marlena laughed as she leaned over to hug Julie and take the bottle.
Mark and Julie owned a bar in North Las Vegas that they bought twelve years ago as the Electric Dolphin. It was known for being a sleazy dump, but a year and a half of hard work, they had de-sleazed it and cleaned it up real nice, transforming it into a classy bar and renaming it Galileo's Tavern. It was considered very posh now, not at all like the Electric Dolphin's former reputation. Mark, Julie and the kids lived in the one-story house adjoining the bar that had once been, for no particular reason, a chiropractor's.
"Let me guess," said Marlena's sister Marilyn from a picnic bench. "It's the first thing you've had that isn't coffee in at least a year." She was smiling, her lap holding her two-year-old daughter Janelle and her right hand holing a beer.
Marlena couldn't help but laugh, "You're almost right. Where's Ryan?"
"He went out for ice," Marilyn made a face. "Mom still hasn't fixed her machine. How did my husband become the family gopher?"
"Just lucky I guess," Marlena giggled as she kissed her sister on the cheek, getting a whiff of her lilac perfume.
Marilyn was known for being the prettiest child in the Reagan family and lived up as a namesake to Miss Monroe. She was blond, like Marlena, but her coloring was lighter and her curls were softer: less harsh and wavier. She was the only child that had gotten Roo's coveted blue eyes by a stroke of luck. She was also the only one who had a tattoo: a small strawberry just above her right ankle. She and her husband Ryan, along being the parents of Dominic and Janelle, held interesting careers.
Marilyn, a talented dancer from a very young age, was a choreographer. She'd worked with some very famous musicians in the past and was right now concentrating on training new recruits for another teenaged pop group. Such a dedicated performer was she that she worked and danced while she was pregnant with both her children until her third trimester.
Ryan was a make-up artist, but concentrated mostly on creature features and special effects, like the illusion of gouged-out eyeballs and crossing ethnic barriers. Medical oddities were his favorite—Marlena would bring him her medical books from her forensics classes. Ryan was also quite skilled in medieval make=up and a lot of his work was featured in Shakespearean productions. The kids, especially Dominic, got a kick out of all the scary and funny things their dad could do on Halloween, around which time it was not unusual to open the refrigerator and find a bucket of homemade blood in there.
"How've you been?" Marlena asked, sitting across from her sister, straddling the picnic bench.
"Tired," sighed Marilyn. "But I guess I have nothing to complain about. You're a graveyard shifter."
"Yeah, but you dance eight hours a day and have two kids. I think it's safe to say that you have plenty to complain about."
"You're both wrong," laughed the voice of their father. "I have the most to complain about—I live with your mother!"
Marlena, Mark and Marilyn laughed while Jane groaned.
"Dad, you're awful!" Marlena kissed her dad in greeting on the cheek.
"No, you're awful, missy scientist," Roo playfully poked Marlena on her sides. "You don't come around enough."
"And when she does come around," Jane butted in, "she's late!"
"A bad habit I picked up from Sara, I guess," Marlena shrugged.
"Sara who?"
"Oh…Sidle. Sara Sidle. I work with her in the graveyard shift? I was tailing her when I was a rookie?"
"Is she the brunette with the teeth?" Mark asked.
Annoyed, Marlena replied, "Why is it whenever I bring up Sara, someone mentions the gap in her teeth? It's not all that noticeable."
"It's just a memorable trait," Jane said, carrying a bowl of salad to the picnic table, in a voice that sounded as if one sentence explained everything. "Like your sister and her awful tattoo."
Marilyn frowned, "Hey. If my tattoo was of a naked woman saying 'lick me' then it would be awful."
"Marilyn!"
"Hey, Marlena," Roo said quickly. "I heard from my friend Tom that your boss passed away."
There was a silence around the yard. Even the neighbor's dog had stopped barking.
"I didn't hear that," Jane said softly.
"Was he old?" Julie asked.
"No," Marlena said. "I think in his early fifties. His age was always hard to place."
"Heart attack? Stroke?" Mark asked.
"We don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I'm investigating his case…I'm not really at liberty to discuss it…"
Marilyn sighed, "I don't know what I'd do without Amy. She gets me all my gigs. Since forever."
"Well, Grissom's job has been filled right away. It was too important of a position to be empty."
"Already?" Roo inquired. "So soon?"
"As soon as word got out, the promoted Catherine Willows. She was Grissom's second-in-command, so it was only natural…"
"That poor man," sighed Jane. "So you don't know what killed him?"
"We have a pretty good idea."
"That's a shame," Roo shook his head. "Cut down in the prime of his life."
Marlena's cell phone rang. Jane gave her an icy stare but Marlena ignored it. She excused herself from the table and answered it with a business like, "Reagan."
"Marlena, I've been trying to reach you for an hour!" Sasha's irritated voice came out harsh and tired.
"I'm at dinner with my family."
"Peachy keen, jelly bean. I have big, big evidence. You should come down here. Breeze already is."
"Now?"
"I think it might lead to Grissom's murderer's motive."
Marlena looked over her shoulder. Her family was sitting around the picnic table. The smell of steak grilling was in the air and there was a gentle buzz of the bug zapper. It was very peaceful. But she heaved a great sigh and said firmly to Sasha, "I'll be right there."