"Nick, you can't let it get to you." I hoped my voice was gentle.
Nick just looked at me with a hint of disbelief. "You're one to talk, Sara." A tear slid down his cheek and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"I know." I'm not particularly comfortable admitting my own weaknesses, but he was right, I'd been falling apart on a regular basis lately, and he'd been witness to quite a bit of it.
He looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Sara." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and tried to put on a brave face. "It just pisses me off when a kid doesn't get the chance to grow up. What kind of sick bastard does this kind of thing to a pregnant woman?"
I could feel my own courage failing. I steeled myself against the emotions that threatened to spill to the surface. "That's why we do what we do, Nick. You know that. We've got to figure this out and find out who did this to her, to them."
"I don't think it was the grandfather." Nick began to sink back into work mode.
"I agree." I didn't see how a decorated war veteran could do something as horrendous as this.
We had discovered a bit about Mr. Alexander Williams as we went through the house. He had entered the Navy in 1940 at age 18 against the wishes of his family. But he wanted to see the world and wanted to get out of Iowa. He was stationed in Pearl Harbor aboard the USS Arizona. The morning of December 7, 1941, he had been on shore leave, the second day of a three day pass. By the time he'd heard the attack begin and tried to make his way back to the ship, it was already sinking in the harbor. So he'd watched in horror at the carnage before him, not able to do anything to help his shipmates. He went on to serve in the Pacific theater for the rest of the war, finally retiring from the Navy in 1963, having attained the rank of Commander.
His granddaughter had come to stay with him six months previously after her husband, a naval officer, had shipped out aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln for the Persian Gulf. He had been notified and was scheduled to fly back to Vegas within the next seventy-two hours. In the meantime, the CSIs hoped to discover as much as they could about their victim and how she came to be in the circumstances they found her in.
I regarded Nick thoughtfully for a moment. "Do you want to go back out to the scene?"
There was a hint of a serious smile that flickered across Nick's face. "Yeah."
"Let's go get our gear and let Grissom know." I suggested as I moved to go back into the building.
Nick fell in step behind me and we informed Grissom of our intentions before heading to the locker room to collect our gear. Neither of us spoke much as we drove back out to the crime scene. Stepping under the tape, we broke the seal on the door and began to give the house another once over.
We headed straight back to the bedroom the woman had been found in and got down on our hands and knees with our mini maglites looking for any miniscule trace evidence that we might have missed. Fortunately, the chemical that had been on the floor had been cleaned up sufficiently to not pose a health threat any longer. I was about ready to give up when Nick let out a curse under his breath. "Son of a bitch."
My eyebrows immediately shot up and I glanced at him. "What do you have?"
In a pair of tweezers, Nick held up a small bright pink disk approximately a quarter of an inch in diameter. "It's from a tazer cartridge."
I handed Nick a bindle so he could put the evidence into it. "That might explain how she was restrained."
"We should have Doc Robbins look for any small puncture wounds on her skin, the barbs on the darts that come out of those things are about a quarter of an inch long." Nick recounted. He studied me. "You've been tazed haven't you, Sara?"
I nodded. "Part of the requirement to get through the academy. Hurts like hell. I'm just glad they don't actually shoot us with the damn things in training. I hurts enough just having it taped to your skin. I don't understand how anyone can be shot with one of those things and not give up."
Nick nodded. "Drugs alter things a bit though. When I was still working as an officer in Dallas, I remember one suspect we had to taze three times. He was high as a kite and couldn't feel a thing."
I just shook my head and then froze. My head popped up and I glanced at Nick. "Do you think that's why the grandfather had a heart attack?"
Nick shook his head. "It's unlikely. The voltage is pretty high on these things. 50,000 volts, but the wattage is extremely low and it's the wattage that can be deadly. It's even lower than what a pacemaker is. It might have triggered her going into labor, since it can cause muscles to contract, but I doubt that was the reason for his heart attack, but we can have Doc Robbins check him for any small puncture wounds."
I nodded. "I'm going to go check the area Mr. Williams was found anyway, just to be on the safe side." I went out to the living room where he had been found and began searching the chair, the floor, under the area rug, and under the couch for any evidence that he had been shot with a tazer gun.
A few moments later, Nick returned to the living room. "Find anything?"
I glanced up and shook my head. "Nothing. He probably had a heart attack from the shock of finding his granddaughter like that."
Nick nodded. "He was about 80 years old. That a hell of a thing to have to see, even after witnessing Pearl Harbor."
I nodded silently. "Want to head back to the lab?"
Nick smiled at me. "Yeah."
As we drove back, I glanced over at my friend. I was glad he and I were working this case. We didn't have to talk much to communicate and sometimes, that was best. Cases could affect you and Nick was pretty sensitive. Whether I wanted to admit it most of the time, Nick could read me like a book and knew when I needed to step back. He wasn't arrogant about it though, and I appreciated that. I think that's probably why he could say things to me that most people couldn't and get by with it. And that's probably why he let me say things to him. I knew we'd get to the bottom of this case and I knew that neither of us would be willing to quit until we'd exhausted every option.
We pulled into the parking lot and walked into the building, stopping by to check in this new piece of evidence before striding into the break room where the rest of the team was waiting for assignments. Shift was about to begin and it was going to be a long night.
Nick just looked at me with a hint of disbelief. "You're one to talk, Sara." A tear slid down his cheek and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"I know." I'm not particularly comfortable admitting my own weaknesses, but he was right, I'd been falling apart on a regular basis lately, and he'd been witness to quite a bit of it.
He looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Sara." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and tried to put on a brave face. "It just pisses me off when a kid doesn't get the chance to grow up. What kind of sick bastard does this kind of thing to a pregnant woman?"
I could feel my own courage failing. I steeled myself against the emotions that threatened to spill to the surface. "That's why we do what we do, Nick. You know that. We've got to figure this out and find out who did this to her, to them."
"I don't think it was the grandfather." Nick began to sink back into work mode.
"I agree." I didn't see how a decorated war veteran could do something as horrendous as this.
We had discovered a bit about Mr. Alexander Williams as we went through the house. He had entered the Navy in 1940 at age 18 against the wishes of his family. But he wanted to see the world and wanted to get out of Iowa. He was stationed in Pearl Harbor aboard the USS Arizona. The morning of December 7, 1941, he had been on shore leave, the second day of a three day pass. By the time he'd heard the attack begin and tried to make his way back to the ship, it was already sinking in the harbor. So he'd watched in horror at the carnage before him, not able to do anything to help his shipmates. He went on to serve in the Pacific theater for the rest of the war, finally retiring from the Navy in 1963, having attained the rank of Commander.
His granddaughter had come to stay with him six months previously after her husband, a naval officer, had shipped out aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln for the Persian Gulf. He had been notified and was scheduled to fly back to Vegas within the next seventy-two hours. In the meantime, the CSIs hoped to discover as much as they could about their victim and how she came to be in the circumstances they found her in.
I regarded Nick thoughtfully for a moment. "Do you want to go back out to the scene?"
There was a hint of a serious smile that flickered across Nick's face. "Yeah."
"Let's go get our gear and let Grissom know." I suggested as I moved to go back into the building.
Nick fell in step behind me and we informed Grissom of our intentions before heading to the locker room to collect our gear. Neither of us spoke much as we drove back out to the crime scene. Stepping under the tape, we broke the seal on the door and began to give the house another once over.
We headed straight back to the bedroom the woman had been found in and got down on our hands and knees with our mini maglites looking for any miniscule trace evidence that we might have missed. Fortunately, the chemical that had been on the floor had been cleaned up sufficiently to not pose a health threat any longer. I was about ready to give up when Nick let out a curse under his breath. "Son of a bitch."
My eyebrows immediately shot up and I glanced at him. "What do you have?"
In a pair of tweezers, Nick held up a small bright pink disk approximately a quarter of an inch in diameter. "It's from a tazer cartridge."
I handed Nick a bindle so he could put the evidence into it. "That might explain how she was restrained."
"We should have Doc Robbins look for any small puncture wounds on her skin, the barbs on the darts that come out of those things are about a quarter of an inch long." Nick recounted. He studied me. "You've been tazed haven't you, Sara?"
I nodded. "Part of the requirement to get through the academy. Hurts like hell. I'm just glad they don't actually shoot us with the damn things in training. I hurts enough just having it taped to your skin. I don't understand how anyone can be shot with one of those things and not give up."
Nick nodded. "Drugs alter things a bit though. When I was still working as an officer in Dallas, I remember one suspect we had to taze three times. He was high as a kite and couldn't feel a thing."
I just shook my head and then froze. My head popped up and I glanced at Nick. "Do you think that's why the grandfather had a heart attack?"
Nick shook his head. "It's unlikely. The voltage is pretty high on these things. 50,000 volts, but the wattage is extremely low and it's the wattage that can be deadly. It's even lower than what a pacemaker is. It might have triggered her going into labor, since it can cause muscles to contract, but I doubt that was the reason for his heart attack, but we can have Doc Robbins check him for any small puncture wounds."
I nodded. "I'm going to go check the area Mr. Williams was found anyway, just to be on the safe side." I went out to the living room where he had been found and began searching the chair, the floor, under the area rug, and under the couch for any evidence that he had been shot with a tazer gun.
A few moments later, Nick returned to the living room. "Find anything?"
I glanced up and shook my head. "Nothing. He probably had a heart attack from the shock of finding his granddaughter like that."
Nick nodded. "He was about 80 years old. That a hell of a thing to have to see, even after witnessing Pearl Harbor."
I nodded silently. "Want to head back to the lab?"
Nick smiled at me. "Yeah."
As we drove back, I glanced over at my friend. I was glad he and I were working this case. We didn't have to talk much to communicate and sometimes, that was best. Cases could affect you and Nick was pretty sensitive. Whether I wanted to admit it most of the time, Nick could read me like a book and knew when I needed to step back. He wasn't arrogant about it though, and I appreciated that. I think that's probably why he could say things to me that most people couldn't and get by with it. And that's probably why he let me say things to him. I knew we'd get to the bottom of this case and I knew that neither of us would be willing to quit until we'd exhausted every option.
We pulled into the parking lot and walked into the building, stopping by to check in this new piece of evidence before striding into the break room where the rest of the team was waiting for assignments. Shift was about to begin and it was going to be a long night.