Author's Notes: Guys, I know I have it where anonymous people can post, but I only have that on so people who want to flame me can be pussies and not post under their name; I really like it when people who have good and constructive things to say put their names so I can personally thank them. So, whoever posted under the ellipses, I'm glad you like it, but I wish I knew your name, lol
dakFinv: Yep, I'm in Tisch. I'm glad you like it; thanx for reviewing! What are you majoring in at CAS?
Anyways, come hither, children, and let me continue the tale…
KAPITEL DREI
Faraday didn't like the way she'd left things at Blake's. Because Mr. Van Horn, their Chemistry teacher, preferred to seat people in alphabetical order, they were on opposite sides of the room from each other (Blake's last name being Abraham and Faraday's being Sanders), so they couldn't talk about what went down last night. She should probably be glad that she wasn't able to sit next to Blake because Mr. Van Horn would probably yell at her more than he already did. His favorite thing to tell her was, "You have been bequeathed the names of two famous chemists, yet you fail to possess or even learn the science of chemistry." Yeah, and he'd been "bequeathed" the personality of a jackass.
She hastily wrote a note and stuck it in her pocket to give to Blake after class. They didn't have time to talk after class because Faraday had to get to her English class which was all the way at the opposite end of the school upstairs. She and Blake didn't have any other classes together. Blake was in all of the upper level honors classes, and the only reason why she was in regular Chemistry was because she couldn't fit an honors level Chemistry into her schedule.
Mr. Van Horn began to pass out their chemical compound tests.
"I'm interested in what your answers are going to be on this test," he told Faraday as he gave her a test packet.
"With any luck, I'll get a hundred and you'll get a coronary," she muttered under her breath.
After fifty minutes of pencil tapping and erasures, it was time to hand in her test. She knew HCl was hydrochloric acid, and that H2SO4 was not sugar, but was it sulfuric acid or hydrosulfuric acid? To compensate, she wrote "sulfuric" and then penciled in "hydro" very lightly in front of it; that way, if he marked it wrong because it wasn't hydrosulfuric acid then, she could say she erased it, and if it was hydrosulfuric acid and he marked it wrong, she could say she'd written it down.
As the bell rang, she noticed how Blake tried to rush out of the classroom before Faraday could get to her, but the girl caught her friend by the arm.
"Wait," Faraday said handing her the note.
"Thanks," Blake said as she turned and walked away.
Faraday sighed and headed for her next class. Had she blown the only friendship she had?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Gil Grissom stood outside of the Abraham's residence, the blue and red lights of the surrounding police cars creating a strobe light effect on the fresh crime scene. Warrick Brown was carefully going over the front yard, the edges of the house, and the front porch, Catherine Willows was in the teenager's bedroom, Nick Stokes and Sara Sidle were combing the backyard, and he was sitting in the Tahoe with Blair Abraham, Blake's twelve-year-old sister.
Grissom had taken her to the Tahoe because it was a cold night, and all the girl was wearing were light pajama pants and a T-shirt, so the two now sat with the heater blasting.
"Can you tell me what you saw tonight?" he asked notepad and pen ready.
"I-I got up to go to the bathroom, and when I opened the door to the hall, I saw this guy heading into my sister's room. I screamed, and he went into Blake's room and the next thing I know, she's gone," the preteen explained shakily.
"Did he come after you after you screamed?"
"No, he just kind of glanced at me and went into my sister's room."
Grissom found that extremely odd. Wouldn't a kidnapper try and shut up a screaming girl?
"Did you try and go after the kidnapper?"
Blair gave him a look that told him she thought that was a stupid question.
"No, this guy was huge. Tall and wide. Looked like a walking refrigerator."
"Do you know anybody who would want to harm your sister?"
"No," Blair said shaking her head. "I mean, she's not Ms. Popular over at the high school, but she wouldn't piss anyone off so much that they'd want to kidnap her," Blair told him as tears rolled down her face leaving trails that glinted in the flashing lights
"Where are your parents?" Grissom asked.
"Our mom passed away three years ago, and our dad is on a business trip. I called him and told him what happened; he's catching the next flight in from Chicago."
"Ok, thank you," Grissom told her in a soft voice. "You've been a big help."
Warrick Brown shone his flashlight around looking for anything that seemed remotely out of place. He looked closely at the jamb of the front door. It wasn't a forced entry, so either the intruder had a key or was let in by somebody. He photographed it and then began to dust for prints on the doorknob. He lifted some, but if his gut feeling was correct, they were just the fingerprints of Mr. Abraham, Blair, and Blake.
He hadn't seen any shoeprints in the yard. His guess was the kidnapper walked directly up the stone path leading to the front door. He'd heard from Grissom that there was no ransom note, which was a bad sign. That usually meant the kidnapper had something more sinister in mind for his victim. Warrick had lifted some shoeprints from the linoleum floor of the kitchen; he matched all but two to the shoes in the closets of the three family members, so that, at least, gave him a lead. He decided to see how Catherine was doing in her territory.
"Hey," he called from the door. "Got anything?"
"Prints from the doorknob, but they could just be the girl's, a piece of cloth caught on the windowsill, looks like it came from a shirt or pajama pants maybe, and a piece of blue fuzz. What about you?"
"Got a bunch of prints off the front door, but I doubt if we can get anything from them. Even if we could, they're probably all from the Abrahams. I lifted several shoeprints from the kitchen floor, and two don't match. The front door wasn't forced open."
"Interesting," Catherine said raising her eyebrows.
"Start climbing up into that tree house," Nick Stokes told his teammate Sara Sidle.
"Why don't you do it?"
"Those boards would never hold me."
"Looks like somebody too heavy already tried to make their way up there," Sara told him looking at a place where one of the boards had broken off.
"Could've been just a weak piece of wood," Nick said.
Sara photographed it. "Maybe; maybe not."
"Look at those boards carefully before you start touching and stepping all over them," Nick commanded.
"Thanks for telling me because I was born yesterday," Sara quipped before she started her ascent. Nick gave her a small smile.
Sara got up to the entrance.
"Man, you've got to be pretty thin to get into this thing…and not very well endowed, either, if you know what I mean," she called as she wriggled her way into the tree house. Once inside she shone her flashlight around; she noticed there was no roof to the tree house.
"I've got blood," she shouted down to Nick. "And fingerprints."
Sara guided her flashlight over the wooden floor.
"And a blue fuzzy thing," she called as she collected it with tweezers and bagged it.
Once the five criminalists had gone over the crime scene thoroughly, they congregated near the two Tahoes they'd driven in. Each one in turn reported on their findings, and Grissom reiterated what Blair had told him.
"As soon as we get back, Warrick, I want you on those shoeprints and fingerprints. Sara, give the blood to Greg for analysis, the fingerprints to Mandy, and you and Catherine figure out where that blue fuzz is from. Nick, help Warrick out with the shoeprints and fingerprints he collected. I'm going to inform Brass about the case. The lack of a ransom letter could mean we have a homicide on our hands."
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Finally, the game's afoot! I feel better now that I've got everybody in the picture. I know that the whole team probably wouldn't work a kidnapping, but I couldn't think of another casefile to put in here. I promise my next fic will be more thought out. But I'd like to think the team would all help out on the case since it's Greg's sister's best friend, and so forth. Also, I apologize for any factual errors, like the types of tools they use, or procedures they go through. I'm going to try and look stuff up on the internet in the future.