Spoilers: “Crash and Burn”

Rated: PG-13 because it's CSI. There's gonna be some violence.

Thanks to: Chris, Amy, Larry, J-Low, Tiff

Wax Museum
by hotdawg220

Prologue

Awesome! 7-year-old Melody Peddigrew-Alcott thought as she stood with her mother in a crowd full of excited people eagerly awaiting to enter the newly built Nova Wax Museum. The large two-story circular building, a few blocks away from the Strip, was covered with flashing lights and large signs announcing its grand opening. Melody had always been a fan of wax museums. She once spent hours in a smaller museum at the Venetian pretending she was actually meeting real celebrities. Now with her mother's new job as a secretary at this wax museum, she could visit one whenever she liked.

The joy that she felt tonight was a relief after a hectic past year. Her mother had been unemployed for a few months. Her father was barely home because of his demanding job. Whenever her parents were together they would argue and Melody would have to sit in the corner and listen. They were so busy dealing with their own problems that they had completely ignored their daughter's wants and needs. After the divorce, Melody began living with her mother who became overprotective. This wasn't a bad thing. It just annoyed her to have everyone see her holding her mother's hand all the time.

Tonight, her mother held it extremely tight. It was the first time she had brought her daughter to her new workplace. Melody could feel her mother's fear through slightly sweaty palms.

The crowd quieted down as the owner of the museum walked up to the front doors of the building. He cleared his throat and announced, “It is with my pride and honor that I present to you the Nova!” Everyone cheered. Two security guards opened the front doors leading into the building and the large group of photographers, newspaper writers, TV crews, and other VIP guests rushed through the opening.

“C'mon mom! Let's go! Hurry up!,” Melody cried.
“Okay, okay! Hold on! I can't walk that fast.,” her mother responded, struggling to catch up with her daughter.
Melody felt her hand almost being crushed by her mother's tight grip.
“Mom, you're hurting me!”
“Sorry honey!”
Annoyed, Melody pulled her hand away from her mother's and joined the group of people pushing their way in.
Her mother screamed with terror. “Stop! Melody! Melody!”

The crowd was fanatic. Melody soon became trapped in a flood of people. “Ow!,” she cried as feet kicked and stepped on her foot. She was barely able to look back because her head was stuck between the arms of some impatient cameramen rushing forward. When she was finally able to turn her head, her mother was not there. She became worried. “Mommy!,” she yelled. Without the strength to push back, she calmed herself thinking, Mom knows this place well. She'll find me.

Melody proceeded through a long, narrow corridor leading to the center of the building. The crimson walls were beautifully decorated with photos of the museum's main attractions. As an Elvis fan, she jumped with delight seeing that there was a special Elvis exhibit featuring authentic clothing the King once wore. She decided this was the first thing she'd see.

The pushing and shoving stopped as everyone reached the main hall and went their separate directions. It was a large, circular room with a high ceiling. All around her were different doors leading to different exhibits. There were stairs leading to the second level with even more rooms to see. She waited a while in the lobby for her mother to appear through the corridor. Soon, the last visitors had entered the museum and Melody stared at the security guards closing the doors to the entrance. Mom must've come in and didn't see me, Melody thought to herself. Mom knows I'm an Elvis fan, she'll find me at the Elvis Exhibit. The main hall was practically empty. Most of the people had already found a room to go into. She examined each door around her and found one with a sign labeled, “Elvis Exhibit: Coming Soon.” This was a disappointment but of course there were other doors to open so she turned around in circles to find another room that would interest her. With another glance at the door of the Elvis room, she saw that the “Coming Soon” sign had disappeared. A surge of curiosity invaded her mind. Did they just open the exhibit? She couldn't help but open the door and enter.

She found herself standing in an empty room with a single Elvis wax figure standing at the far corner. Her footsteps on the hardwood floor echoed from the walls as she walked closer to the statue. She stopped in front of Elvis and stared. It was a bad replication. She had seen many pictures the King in several books she had read and this replica's entire facial complexion was wrong. She stared closer and found the figure vaguely familiar as if she had seen him before. A gust of wind blew through her long brown hair. Melody twisted her head and saw the single window in the room, broken. Something was wrong. She quickly walked to the door she entered from. Along the way, a faint creak on the wood flooring behind her stopped her in her footsteps. Melody looked back. She saw no one but the statue. Then, Elvis did the most unbelievable thing: he blinked. Melody froze in fear. The statue blinked again and started moving, advancing towards her. Melody wanted to run but she was petrified with fear. She started to scream but Elvis covered her mouth, grabbed her and took her away.

Holding her mail, Sara Sidle opened the door to her apartment at 8 am in the morning. She had just come back from solving a murder case involving a partly decomposed body. Exhausted and smelling awful, she quickly headed for the shower. On her way she flipped through the papers in her hand and found a letter sent from Hank Peddigrew, her ex-boyfriend. She stopped, put the other papers aside, and opened the letter. It read:

Dear Sara,
Remember me? It's Hank. Its been years since we've talked. I know our relationship didn't turn out very well. Maybe some time apart was good for us. I've been thinking about you and I don't know why I let someone like you slip through my fingers. If you're up to it, maybe we should get together again, start over, and see what happens. Call me: (702) 547-8343.
Love, Hank

Sara furiously ripped the letter into pieces. She would always remember how he had broken her heart. With her steadfast-workaholic demeanor, it was difficult to find or have time for love. Hank was the only one who managed to not be bothered by her disposition. She had been madly in love with the man and frequently got into trouble while flirting with him on the job. Her affection for him ended the day she stumbled across Hank's other girlfriend. It was that day that she decided she would never be truly loved by another man. Even a person as amazing as Hank, nurtured by Sara's care and compassion could turn out rotten.

Sara walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She disrobed and quickly stepped in. The small bathroom made her stench even more noticeable and noxious. A bottle of lemon juice was kept in the bathroom especially for occasions like these where she had been dealing with dead corpses. The persistent scrubbing and washing succeeded in removing most of the odor from her body. Sara thought about a time Hank asked her out on a date. She had, like today, just dealt with a rotten corpse and smelled horrible, yet Hank persisted in trying to talk to her until he couldn't stand it anymore and had to vomit. She smiled remembering how flattered and embarrassed she was. Maybe Hank is being honest this time, she thought, lathering her hair with lemon juice. Maybe I could give him another chance. Her thoughts were interrupted by the cell phone ringing in the kitchen. She quickly got out of the shower wet and dripping, put on a towel and ran out to answer.

“CSI Sidle,” she responded.
A familiar voice answered. “Sara, it's Grissom. Day shift doesn't have enough CSI's today, so we'll have to work today.”
Sara sighed in disappointment. “Why is it that when we don't have enough CSI's, day shift is never there, and when they need help, we have to be there?”
After a pause, Grissom answered, “Because they're day shift. They sleep at night. We're expected to not sleep at all.”
Sara thought about the validity of Grissom's statement. “Ok...”
“Do you know that new wax museum just opened?”
“Yea, I know where that is.”
“We'll meet you there in fifteen minutes. We have 2 people. One is missing. One is dead.”