CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

Ben and Jerry's

Chapter 3-

"There you are, Nick" Grissom said spotting the younger CSI, "I have a suicide case for you."

"Could you assign someone else?" Nick asked, "I was sort of helping Warrick and Sara on theirs and it turned out to be a triple homicide instead of a double. They're short of help."

"Well, I suppose I could send Catherine," He said, "It's not high priority, but when you finish, you need to help her."

"Sounds okay." Nick said, "Oh and one more thing, we need someone to reconstruct the face of two of the bodies."

"You found a skeleton?" Grissom asked.

"Well, 3 skeletons, but the face of one was destroyed. We got a freezer filled with evidence I'm going to go through that right now." He said.

"Lucky you. Hold on a minute and I'll get you Teri Miller's number." Grissom said leading the way back to his office. Walking in the dimly lit room, Nick was careful not to lean anywhere. The shelves were full of various animal organs, a two-headed pig and all sorts of books and periodicals. His pet tarantula was asleep in it's home on Grissom's desk which was cluttered with papers, files, and a phone.

Grissom flipped through his phone records and after a few minutes found Teri's number. He handed it to Nick who quickly left his office.

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Sara was looking up the records on Alexandria Matthews and finding a surprising amount. The picture showed a little girl with brown hair and an innocent pout on her lips. She looked maybe 8 or 9, the same age as the girl in their morgue, possibly the same person.

In appearance, she seemed like the sweet little neighbour girl, but reading down, Sara realized this was far from true. The girl had been involved in multiple thefts like robbing local grocery stores. She was even arrested, but never convicted, for bookie work. Sara frowned. That would explain the lack of equipment for an ice cream parlour. The place must've been a bookie house. But what would an eight-year-old girl be doing there, much less having the lot owned in her name? She thought that it might've been her mother, but there was no record of anyone else by that name.

But after the age of 17, Sara couldn't find so much as a parking ticket. The girl had simply ceased to exist, which was never a good thing in Las Vegas. Sara had a horrible feeling that she might've been their girl in the morgue.

Sara studied the girl's picture again. Now, if she was alive, she would be around her age. The feeling was creepy, but she felt some kind connection to Alexandria. The possibility that some sick, twisted serial killer from 15 years ago had been preying on little kids was enough to make her stomach churn.

She found no missing person's reports under that name. That was what puzzled her. It occurred to Sara that the older woman in the morgue could be Alexandria's mother, and if so couldn't have filed a missing person's report for her daughter.

Or, she could have absolutely nothing to do with their case. It was possible that the information was outdated and that another Matthews had owned the place. With the exact same name? It seemed too much of a coincidence. Sara checked to see if it was possible that she had changed her name and finally, she found something.

The records showed that Alexandria M. Matthews had legally changed her name to Miranda Jacobs in July of 1999. So, she had been in the city for at almost 5 years, if she had ever left. That was Sara's guess anyway. No one goes without so much as paying a bill in Las Vegas for 10 years so it was likely that she had left when she was around 18. Moved away with her family perhaps? If she had had any.

She checked the local foster home and again found nothing. She took down the number of the place and called. She decided to check around the time she first made her mark on Las Vegas in 1981. After apologizing for calling at the late hour, she inquired about any runaways from 20- 25 years ago. She heard the line go silent as the person on the other end shuffled through filing cabinets. After a few minutes she returned with her findings. They had had numerous attempts and some successful. She faxed the names and pictures of the 9 children from that time period to her.

Sara refilled her coffee cup and sat back to read. She immediately discarded the ones that were boys, which left her with 5 girls. The photos were black and white but the children themselves were fascinating. The first two she could definitely rule out being that they were at least 16 or 17. She was positive that they weren't them. The next she looked at and nearly dropped her cup.

Staring back at her were the light eyes and curly blonde hair of the girl. She matched the age profile. She had a gay little smile on her face and her curls were held loosely in a ribbon, which threatened to fall out.  The sheet informed her that this was Lindsay Wilcox. Her parents were both deceased and no additional siblings. That would mean there would be no missing person's report. No one had missed this girl at all.

Sara put this down and moved on to the next sheet, another one that was too old to fit the profile and then came who she had been looking for. Alexandria Matthews, well, not exactly. Her name was actually Paris Montana, but the picture was identical. Sara doubted if that was her real name.

The girl seemed to have gone through aliases faster than anyone she'd ever heard of. Already, Sara was taking an immediate dislike to her. In her photo she was blowing a kiss to the camera in a sign of innocence, but the expression in her eyes trumped this. It was a strange expression, which Sara couldn't quite place. It looked like she was planning something, her escape maybe? She seemed cocky and over-confident. She'd seen that look in many guilty people. Was it possible that she and Lindsey had had a fight and Lindsay had ended up dead? What about the other two? Witnesses? Loose ends? She would have to find out and she would start by interrogating Miranda Jacobs.

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 After getting the bullets to ballistics, Warrick had lugged the cash register to the garage and was in the process of trying to pry it open. The stupid thing was stuck and he didn't want to damage whatever was inside. The crowbar had only managed to scrape off a bit of the paint on it. He had punched any combination of numbers he could think of with no luck. If someone had tried to rob this place, they certainly weren't successful. Again, he tried clamping it to the desk and using the crowbar. This time, the metal at the bottom snapped and he was able to pull it out.

Choking on dust from the inside, he pulled out all the money that lay inside. At first, he couldn't believe his eyes at the amount, but it was real enough. It was all in large bills, no coins. Unusual for an ice cream parlour. But that wasn't the half of it. Counting it out, he realized there was over fifteen thousand dollars in the register

"I found something really interesting you might want to have a look at." Sara said walking into the garage and handing him the pictures. He looked them over.

"A foster home? So there isn't any relation between the victims?" He asked.

"No, both parents dead. No existing relatives."

"What about the other girl? Why did you give me this one?" he asked.

"Alexandria Matthews.  She owns our crime scene." Sara said.

"She's seven, Sara. She can't own property."

"Well, she does. The deed is in her name." Sara said taking a seat.

Warrick continued reading, "In and out of foster homes, in the care of 4 different relatives, then breaks out with the this Lindsay Wilcox 9 years before her death." Warrick sighed, "You think that's our body?"

Sara shook her head, "No, I think you're looking at our killer. She steals and does bookie work, she has changed her name two times at least, this girl is major trouble. She disappeared from Vegas right after her friend's death, that's too coincidental. And, she's alive."

"Planning on getting in touch with her?" Warrick asked.

"I think so. What've you found?" Sara asked.

"I finally got the register open." He said. Sara eyed the broken box with a smirk.

"I see. What was in it?"

"Money, what else? But there was an excessive amount of it." He handed it to her, "fifteen grand."

She looked surprised for a moment then frowned, "This is strange."

"I don't think they were selling frozen treats with those bills. The smallest I can find is a ten." He said and then paused thoughtfully, "Phones, televisions . . . you mentioned bookie work?"

Sara nodded.

"Well, my guess is that that was her place of business, but only for making transactions. No records were found. Old way of doing it, before computers and cell phones." He said.

"The question is; why did she suddenly vanish all those years ago." Sara wondered aloud.

A/n: Please review.