NOTICE: I own nothing here. Please don't sue me.
CH.3-
Sara sat in the driver's seat of the Tahoe waiting for Grissom and Bob to get in. Didn't this guy realize he was messing with the best CSI's in the country? She knew hundreds of ways to make him disappear without a trace. At least ten of them had already gone through her mind, when Grissom finally buckled up.
"Hungry?" Bob noted they had stopped at IHOP, and stuck his maniacally grinning head up into the front seat between Grissom and Sara.
"Uh, no. This is the crime scene." Grissom pointed out the police cruisers, and crime scene tape as he got out, and retrieved his and Sara's kits from the back.
"Dude." Bob's solemn tone brought an inquisitive look to Grissom's face.
"Here. Put these on, hold this, and do NOT touch anything." Sara handed Bob a pair of rubber gloves, then had him carry her kit for her.
"Play nice." Grissom chided her quietly.
Sara followed Grissom to the back of the restaurant towards the now open freezer.
"Sara? Take photos. I'll start dusting." Grissom opened his kit, and pulled out a bottle of printing dust and a brush, and went to work. Bob stood back, still holding Sara's kit obediently. He watched their every move intently. Sara snapped off photos of the trash can that had hours before been smoldering. She moved carefully into the freezer, and took pictures of the victim who was still duct-taped to a chair in the center of the huge walk-in freezer. After she was satisfied that she had photographed everything pertinent to the case, she rejoined Grissom near the body.
"That's weird." Sara looked at the bindings curiously.
"You see it too?" Grissom smiled to her as their gaze went from the girl to the freezer door. "Run it through for me."
Sara walked over to the freezer door, and looked back.
"This door wasn't locked. She's duct-taped to the chair, sure, but look at her bindings. A weakling could've broken free. She could've just broken the tape, and walked out alive." Sara cocked her head to one side, and studied the body again. "Head trauma maybe?"
Grissom shook his head.
"Not that's obvious. Maybe she was drugged. We won't know for sure until after the autopsy. What'd you see out front?" Grissom stood, and closed his kit back up. Bob took it all in with interest as Sara went back to playing out the evidence.
"The fire in the trash can was deliberately set from what I could tell. . .So, somebody barely tapes her to the chair, leaves her in an unlocked freezer, steals the money from the safe -which, by the way shows no signs of forced entry- and then sets the trashcan on fire before they leave? Why?" Sara shook her head. Grissom gave her a 'think harder and you'll see it' look that she both hated and loved. "Ah!"
"Yes." Grissom nodded.
"So maybe this was a set-up. Fake robbery/arson. The fire was meant to attract the fire department to come 'rescue' our victim here."
"But, apparently, our arsonist wasn't very adept at setting fires. The trash can is metal, and didn't have much paper in it so it contained the fire. It was also close to the grills, so the smoke ventilator took care of the smoke before it had a chance to reach the detectors." Grissom looked down at the bluish face of the worker. "She could have just got up, and walked out, but she allowed herself to freeze to death." He shook his head in disgust. "People amaze me."
"I'll drop the evidence off at trace when we get back. My guess is she had a helper." Sara snapped off her rubber gloves, and walked out towards the parking lot. Bob followed like a puppy dog. Grissom watched their guest with interest. Al was the writer/producer. Theresa was a writer, the other fella was a special affects wizard. What did Bob do in the motley crew?"
TBC
CH.3-
Sara sat in the driver's seat of the Tahoe waiting for Grissom and Bob to get in. Didn't this guy realize he was messing with the best CSI's in the country? She knew hundreds of ways to make him disappear without a trace. At least ten of them had already gone through her mind, when Grissom finally buckled up.
"Hungry?" Bob noted they had stopped at IHOP, and stuck his maniacally grinning head up into the front seat between Grissom and Sara.
"Uh, no. This is the crime scene." Grissom pointed out the police cruisers, and crime scene tape as he got out, and retrieved his and Sara's kits from the back.
"Dude." Bob's solemn tone brought an inquisitive look to Grissom's face.
"Here. Put these on, hold this, and do NOT touch anything." Sara handed Bob a pair of rubber gloves, then had him carry her kit for her.
"Play nice." Grissom chided her quietly.
Sara followed Grissom to the back of the restaurant towards the now open freezer.
"Sara? Take photos. I'll start dusting." Grissom opened his kit, and pulled out a bottle of printing dust and a brush, and went to work. Bob stood back, still holding Sara's kit obediently. He watched their every move intently. Sara snapped off photos of the trash can that had hours before been smoldering. She moved carefully into the freezer, and took pictures of the victim who was still duct-taped to a chair in the center of the huge walk-in freezer. After she was satisfied that she had photographed everything pertinent to the case, she rejoined Grissom near the body.
"That's weird." Sara looked at the bindings curiously.
"You see it too?" Grissom smiled to her as their gaze went from the girl to the freezer door. "Run it through for me."
Sara walked over to the freezer door, and looked back.
"This door wasn't locked. She's duct-taped to the chair, sure, but look at her bindings. A weakling could've broken free. She could've just broken the tape, and walked out alive." Sara cocked her head to one side, and studied the body again. "Head trauma maybe?"
Grissom shook his head.
"Not that's obvious. Maybe she was drugged. We won't know for sure until after the autopsy. What'd you see out front?" Grissom stood, and closed his kit back up. Bob took it all in with interest as Sara went back to playing out the evidence.
"The fire in the trash can was deliberately set from what I could tell. . .So, somebody barely tapes her to the chair, leaves her in an unlocked freezer, steals the money from the safe -which, by the way shows no signs of forced entry- and then sets the trashcan on fire before they leave? Why?" Sara shook her head. Grissom gave her a 'think harder and you'll see it' look that she both hated and loved. "Ah!"
"Yes." Grissom nodded.
"So maybe this was a set-up. Fake robbery/arson. The fire was meant to attract the fire department to come 'rescue' our victim here."
"But, apparently, our arsonist wasn't very adept at setting fires. The trash can is metal, and didn't have much paper in it so it contained the fire. It was also close to the grills, so the smoke ventilator took care of the smoke before it had a chance to reach the detectors." Grissom looked down at the bluish face of the worker. "She could have just got up, and walked out, but she allowed herself to freeze to death." He shook his head in disgust. "People amaze me."
"I'll drop the evidence off at trace when we get back. My guess is she had a helper." Sara snapped off her rubber gloves, and walked out towards the parking lot. Bob followed like a puppy dog. Grissom watched their guest with interest. Al was the writer/producer. Theresa was a writer, the other fella was a special affects wizard. What did Bob do in the motley crew?"
TBC