"Standard vodka, nothing special about it," Greg said.
Catherine groaned. "Greg, there has to be something in all the crap we've handed over. We need to find this bastard."
"Check this out," Nick said, walking into the room. "The same gag was used for all three states."
Catherine wrinkled her nose. "He never cleaned it?"
"DNA of all three women on it," Greg agreed. "But we've had that information before."
"We're never going to find this bastard," Nick groaned.
"Don't say that,"
Catherine fired back at him. "We're going to find him. We're good
CSI's. I
refuse to let him win."
************************************************************************
After seeing Lauren off to school and after once again refusing the request to take a body part with her, Caroline went and crawled back into bed. Her body clock was haywire and she was exhausted. And something she missed, and yearned for, something that had been lost in this house for a while, was the one thing she was afraid of doing ever since she had taken this case.
She had almost fallen asleep when her husband tapped on her shoulder and smiled down at her.
"Hey. Do you want some breakfast?"
She took his hand
and urged him to sit next to her. "I want something else."
He looked at her questioningly and she moved closer, kissing him gently.
************************************************************************
Catherine opened the bag of forensic evidence and sighed, not enjoying her task one bit. She glanced at the small container that held the fibres. "Nicky, how come these never got analysed?"
Nick ran his eyes over the report. "Forensics expert said there was no need. The victim said she had gone home, had a shower, and then had sex with her husband. It was during that that he found out what happened and took her to the hospital. They reckoned it was the husbands." He frowned slightly. "Why would you go have sex with your husband after you'd been raped?"
Catherine shrugged. "People deal with things in different ways, Nicky. Sex is a good way to help you forget about something bad." She picked the container up. "I think we better go and get this to Greg."
************************************************************************
Her knees drawn up to her chest, Caroline watched as her husband got out of the shower and into some clean clothes.
He sensed her watching him and turned to her. "What?"
"Nothing," she signed back, her gaze falling down to her feet.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, walking out to the bedroom. "You've been acting a bit weird lately. Is work okay?"
She nodded quickly. "Work is fine."
Sam sat beside her on the bed. "It seems a lot of things are fine, lately."
The phone rang then and Caroline snatched it up. "Farrell. Okay. I'm coming." She put the phone down and smiled apologetically at her husband. "I have to go. They need me at the lab."
Sam nodded mutely and watched her go.
************************************************************************
"Miss me too much?" Caroline teased, as she walked into the breakroom where Catherine sat.
Catherine smiled
wanly. "That too." She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "You should sit
down."
Caroline sat down. "What's going on?"
"We were going through some of the old case files. Nicky and me. We found a hair in an evidence container. We took a look under the microscope. It still had a skin tag, which contradicted the original CSI's report that it was from a victim's husband."
Caroline closed her eyes, not willing to get her hopes up. "DNA?"
"We matched DNA to a Thomas Mantle. He's still in Las Vegas."
Fear gripped Caroline's body. "He is?"
"Brass has gone
to his last known address." Catherine looked at her. "Do you remember
anything
at all about it?"
"Everything," Caroline said quietly, looking at her hands. "I remember everything."
"Did you see him at all?"
Caroline shook her head. "No." Her mind seemed to regress. "But I felt him. Everywhere. It hurt so much." Her arms wrapped around herself. "I kept thinking about the baby. The blood, it was everywhere. I could smell him. It was like a heavy cologne." She felt Catherine's hand on her shoulder and she jerked back to reality. "I'm sorry. It's been…getting to me lately."
"You should have said something."
"There's nothing much to say. It's all in the file."
"We have to…we need you to…"
"Identify him? I can't Cath. The only thing I remember about him is his smell."
Catherine nodded
and squeezed her shoulder. "I'll go talk to Brass."
***********************************************************************
"His smell?"
Catherine sighed and flopped into the chair. She wanted nothing more to go home and curl up around Gil's body and sleep for the rest of the night. But this had become a quest for her. "That's all she remembers. Nick is trying to contact the two other women."
"Bust," Nick said, coming in.
"What?" Jim asked him.
"I tried contacting the first woman. She moved and left no forwarding address. The second one committed suicide two years ago."
"Oh geez," Jim said, rubbing his forehead. "Okay, what HAVE we got?"
"Thomas Mantle," Catherine said. "Sitting in an interview room."
"And we have got a victim."
"Who doesn't remember much about the guy except his smell."
"You know," Catherine said, folding her arms, "perhaps it's been blocked out."
"You mean like selective amnesia?" Nick asked.
Catherine nodded. "After a traumatic event, victims sometimes block out parts or all of what happened. Some studies have shown that when confronted with the attacker, the memories return."
Jim raised an eyebrow. "So you're theory is to throw Caroline Farrell into a room with Thomas Mantle and see what happens?"
"Do we have any better ideas?"
"I don't know," Jim said. "But that doesn't seem like a particularly good one."
"Didn't one of those studies mention a visual image of the attacker? Maybe all we need to do is let her see him?" Nick suggested.
Catherine looked at Brass, who shrugged.
***********************************************************************
Part 7