Disclaimer: Do not now, nor have I ever owned anything to do with CSI. Only thing I do own are the original characters, cases etc. These are not to be used without my permission. I do this for love, not money, so please don't sue; make me write scripts as punishment instead lol

Author's Notes: OK, been a while since I worked with this fic. Please bear with me if I'm not fully up to date with the current series, it's only just started over here lol
Not sure where I'm going with this one yet, guess I'll see where my muse takes me...

Been asked for a longer chapter, so here it is :-)

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#3 – Ally

Droplets of rain splashed against the windscreen as Grissom and Sara headed over to their crime scene. Turning into Nightingale Street, Gil slowed their speed and pulled in behind the police cruiser parked to one side of the road. As he slowly climbed out of the vehicle, he watched heads turn in their direction; curious neighbours wanting to know what was happening on their quiet street. Gil walked up the short path to the front door, stopping a few feet from Catherine, who stood at the base of the steps to the porch.

"What have you got?" He followed her line of sight when she didn't answer and saw what had drawn her attention. The bulb of the porch light was broken, small slivers of glass littering the wooden porch beneath it.

"Bulb was broken, smashed. I'll lay bets that was deliberate."

"Looks like it. Without the light, this house and the path are pretty dark. Perfect cover for someone laying in wait for their victim." Kneeling down, the graveyard supervisor slipped on a pair of latex gloves and collected samples of the glass as evidence.

"So you thinking maybe our victim and her kidnapper knew each other?"

"I don't think so. I think the kidnapper almost certainly knew his victim, but I don't think she knew him."

"How do you know?" Curious, she followed him as he stood up and moved up onto the porch.

"Look here," he told her, pointing to the small black marks on the polished wood. "These look like scuff marks, probably made when the kidnapper grabbed Ms. Freeman from behind and incapacitated her. I'm guessing she struggled with her attacker, which means she probably didn't know him."

"Oh?"

"If you know someone, you'd come up to them openly, not lay in wait for them, hidden from sight."

"Yeah, offer to go for a drink and then disappear somewhere on route right? If our vic lived alone, first anyone would know was when she didn't show up for work on Monday..."

"And by then it would be too late to follow the trail." Gil concluded for her, both scientists following the same line of reasoning.

"So he knew her but she didn't know him? You think he stalked her?" As she spoke, Catherine scraped small samples of the material from the porch. A glint of liquid caught her attention and she looked to her left, spotting a single droplet of clear liquid on the polished wood of the porch. Taking a swab from her kit, she collected a sample of the unknown substance, sealing ready to pass to trace when they got back to the lab.

"Probably."

"Do we know anything else about the victim?" Taking the camera from her pack, she snapped a couple of shots of the fluid and scuff marks before glancing at Captain Brass.

"Andi Freeman, 27 years old, works for a law firm about 10 miles from here. Drives the same route to and from work every day. Neighbours," he told them, waving his hand towards the worried faces on the other side of the police tape. "say she keeps pretty much to herself, not many visitors. Lives alone, no recent boyfriend that they know of. Work colleagues say she's a bright, bubbly woman. No problems at work and, as far as they knew, none outside work either."

"So an ordinary woman, with an ordinary life. Why her?" Cath's curiosity was piqued.

"I don't know, but I'm sure we'll find out." Breathing a small sigh, Gil turned his attention back to the evidence around them, putting his faith in its ability to tell them the story of Ms Freeman's disappearance.

~~~~~~

"Well, our vic is no longer a Jane Doe. Her name is Ally Farmer." Nick strode into the DNA lab, surprising Greg, who was busy drooling over yet another pretty girl in a teen magazine. Nick hid his amusement as the lab tech stashed the evidence of his little obsession, handing the younger man the case file he carried.

"So AFFIS found a match to our vic then?"

"Yeah, turns out she was a cop. Officer Ally Jane Farmer, 27 years old. Signed off on medical grounds after she got shot in the line of duty. She was due back to work yesterday. Brass said they sent a unit to her house when she didn't show up for duty, but the officer found no sign of her. They left messages on her machine but no-one has seen her for several weeks. Everyone thought she'd gone to see her mom in Canada."

"And no-one thought to investigate?"

"Apparently they called her mom's house and that's when they found out her parents hadn't seen her for months. There's a missing persons report filed."

"I guess we go check out her house then huh?" The younger man looked more than a little excited at the prospect of getting away from his 'normal' job.

"Yeah. Got the address from Brass. She lived at 106 Nightwish Street. Get yer coat, we're going for a ride." Slipping on his own coat, Nick walked towards the car park, ignoring the uneasy feeling that was beginning to form in his gut.



Nick stopped his Tahoe in front of Ally Farmer's house and turned off the engine. Greg hopped out of the vehicle but the CSI 3 made no move to join him. His gaze was fixed on the empty house, the feeling of unease growing with each passing second. Something felt wrong, he just couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was. Following Greg, he slipped under the police tape and carefully studied the scene in front of him. The lab tech knew enough to let the more experienced CSI lead the way, photographing the things Nick pointed out. Samples of broken glass were collected from the grass beside the porch steps; photographs were taken of the broken bulb. The two men searched inside the house, and around its perimeter, but knew the evidence they collected might not be enough to help them solve the case, given the age of the crime scene.

"Come on Grego, lets get this stuff back to the lab," Nick said, heading back towards their vehicle. As the Tahoe pulled out of Nightwish Street, the CSI suppressed the feeling of unease he still felt.

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OK, that asks more questions than it answers doesn't it? LOL

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