Title: Las Vegas Knights
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. These character's are owned by some ridiculously rich people who think that character development means that you turn one of your best characters into an alcoholic.
Chapter Six:
Grissom paged Sara to his office that night when she didn't show up for assignments. He was feeling a bit annoyed with her until she bounded in his office wearing a toothy grin upon her face.
"Okay Grissom get this. The armor that kid was wearing cost a hefty three grand. Jack Roberts instantly recognized the set and told me he only sells about six or seven of those a year. By the way you were right about that German Gothic style thing," she said excitedly.
Grissom was pleased to note that Sara seemed to be in a much better mood this evening than she had been when she left his office the previous shift.
"So do we have the name of the person who bought it?"
"Actually it was a couple who bought it and no we don't have their names. Apparently they paid by cash."
Grissom shook his head with a baffled expression upon his face. "Cash? Who would pay cash for a transaction that large?"
Sara sighed. "I asked that question too. Apparently Mr. Roberts' credit card machine was down for about a week and he doesn't accept checks. He told me that the couple seemed highly irritated, but they went to the bank and got the cash for the set. They apparently didn't say what they were buying the suit for."
Grissom sat back in his chair and chewed on the end of his pen. "So how does he know that this is the set he sold them?"
"Well Mr. Roberts explained that each set he designs is completely unique from any other set."
Grissom sat quietly for a moment considering the things she said.
She continued speaking before he could form a question. "Don't worry I know what you are thinking. If he sells six or seven of these sets a year then what are they used for right? Well I found out that this guy actually sells several different types of armor for sci-if/fantasy conventions and LARPers. Roberts told me that if our vic was wearing it then that is probably what it was used for," she explained with a happy smile.
Grissom cocked his head and frowned. "What is a LARPer?" he asked confused.
As if it were possible, Sara's grin grew even wider. "I knew that would be your next question! LARP stands for 'Live Action Role Playing'. Apparently once a month a bunch of people get together and pretend to fight each other with swords and stuff like that. Jack Roberts explained to me that these people take their LARPing quite seriously and all participants are required to dress in fantasy garments. Like, for instance, a suit of armor."
"So you are thinking that our victim's parents bought this armor for their son to participate in this LARPing event?"
"Yes. And now get this. Jack Roberts told me that there are two different LARPing games that occur in this area. Each game takes place once a month from a Friday evening to a Sunday evening. All weekend. 'Ruins' takes place two weeks from now, but 'Talisman' is a game that just finished this past weekend."
"And we found our vic's body in the early hours of Monday morning."
"It gets better than that. 'Talisman' takes place at Lake Mead."
Grissom smiled pleased with her progress. "I take it you have already been out to Lake Mead?"
"Yep. I had a look around but couldn't figure out where these people were. So I spoke to the PR people at Lake Mead and they gave me this 'Talisman' game owner's name. The 'Talisman' game is run by someone named Scott Lansmier. He is supposed to meet me at the 'Talisman' camp site in a few hours."
"Sara have you slept?" Grissom asked frowning.
"No not yet. I've been working on this all day. I'll catch a nap in the morning."
Grissom sighed knowing it was pointless to argue with her. "Okay, lets head out to Lake Mead and see if we can find anything. Its going to be dark, but hopefully we will find a few clues. Hopefully this Lansmier will know our vic."
"Well I asked him about that on the phone and he is going to bring a list of all the players. He has emergency contact info for all of them as well. Hopefully our vic is on that list," she said enthusiastically.
"You're in a good mood today," Grissom noted.
"This case is finally starting to make sense. That makes me happy."
"I had a headache yesterday," he said changing the subject.
"Huh?" she asked confused.
"I had a headache when you stopped by my office last shift. I'm sorry if I said anything to offend you," he explained.
"I...uh. Wow. Did you just apologize to me?"
Grissom frowned. "Its not unheard of."
Sara coughed into one of her hands. "No of course not. Perhaps we should get going before you try to shock me again," she said smiling.
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When they arrived at Lake Mead, Scott Lansmier sat on the hood of his Chevy Silverado waiting for them. When he saw them exit Sara's Tahoe he jumped down and approached them smiling. Reaching out a hand he politely shook each of their hands. Sara guessed his age to be in the mid-twenties. He had sandy blond hair and was more attractive than she would have expected.
"Hi I am Sara Sidle and this is Gil Grissom. You are Scott Lansmier I presume?" she asked courteously.
"Yes ma'am, Miss Sidle. Your even more beautiful than your voice had me believe," he said with a roguish grin and a wink.
Sara almost smiled until she glanced over and saw Grissom openly frowning at the man. Instead she took a photo of the victim out and handed it to Scott who took it graciously. He stared at the photo for a few moments before handing it back to her.
This time when he spoke his tone was very serious. "I don't know him. If he played my game then he has to be very new. Probably joined within the last couple of months."
"How many people play your 'game' Mr. Lansmier?" Grissom asked with a raised eyebrow.
Scott crunched his face in concentration. "I would guess about two hundred and fifty to three hundred show up each month."
"And you own this 'game'?"
This time Scott smiled openly with pride. "Yes sir I surely do. It was an idea I thought up a few years ago and it has taken off successfully. I usually take the time to get to know each of the new players within their first few months, which is why I know that your guy must be new. Hold on I have something that might help you out," he said as he returned to his truck. When he returned he was carrying a bundle of papers. "Now I photo copied all of my documents for you folks. I want to help in any way possible."
"What is all of this?" Sara asked as she took the bundle from him.
"The list on top has the names of all the players who attend the Talisman events. New players within the last three months will have an dash by their names. That should narrow your search a bit. The rest is a personal in-game and out-of-game information sheet for each player that signs up for Talisman."
"Mr. Lansmier can you show us your 'game' site?" Grissom asked.
"Yes sir. Follow me. I don't think you will find anything there though. We don't leave much of a mess. All of our players have to volunteer four hours of their time each event for various projects. Some players get to play monsters, some get to run the pubs and some are asked to clean up at the end of events."
"Scott do your players use real weapons?" Sara inquired as they walked along.
"Oh no!" he exclaimed. "Nobody gets hurt playing. We use fake weapons that are wrapped in foam and then taped up. You would have a hard time bruising someone with one of our weapons."
"Why would our victim have been carrying a real sword then?" she asked perplexed.
"Some players like to carry real weapons for an authentic look. Swords, daggers and what not are all tied to the player's scabbards however. No one is allowed to draw a real weapon and if they did they would be expelled from the game. To date no one has been seriously injured in my game."
"Until now," Grissom replied evenly.
Scott Lansmier frowned at the older man, but didn't say anything in response.
Once they reached the camp site Sara and Grissom realized quickly that they wouldn't be able to find any evidence to assist in their investigation. The site had been picked clean of trash and stretched for about two miles. Scott stood beside them wearing a grim look on his face.
"I don't think you folks are going to find anything here. But you are welcome to look. My people clean up pretty good."
Sara turned to him and smiled. "Scott you've been a big help so far. You can head out if you like, I'll call you if I need anything else."
Scott nodded and grinned. "Please do."
Once he was out of ear shot Sara turned to Grissom. "I don't think he is involved. Just a hunch."
"We'll see. In the meantime lets get back to the lab and see if we can determine who our vic is from the files that Lansmier gave us."
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Grissom insisted on driving back to the lab, but found it difficult to keep his eyes on the road. He spent most of the drive casting furtive glances in Sara's direction. She pretended not to notice as she read through the information that Scott Lansmier gave her, but eventually she grew irritated.
"Grissom do I have something hanging out of my nose?" she asked annoyed.
"No."
"Then why do you keep looking at me?"
He sighed deeply. "I've been doing some thinking."
She pursed her lips. "Okay," she replied returning to her reading.
"Don't you want to know what about?"
"I admit I am curious, but I really am not in the mood for another dose of bad news from you."
Grissom blinked. "Is that all you expect from me? Bad news?"
Sara sighed and set her papers down again. She turned the overhead car light off and sat back in her seat. "No, but that is usually what you give me. Actually now that I think about it, this is the most you have said to me in months without me approaching you first. If this turns out to be a positive conversation, I imagine I'll develop a complex of some sort."
"Catherine drove me home yesterday morning because I had a horrible migraine. When I was in the tub I..."
"You were in the tub with CATHERINE?!" Sara shouted. "So much for this being a positive conversation," she muttered.
"What? No. Sara calm down. She was already gone when I took a bath," Grissom explained as he did his best to hold back a smile.
"Geez Grissom. Why did you mention her then?" Sara asked disgruntled.
"No reason," he sighed. "As I was elucidating before you interrupted me, I had been thinking about...the past," he said significantly.
"Oh. Oh. Ohhhh," Sara breathed as comprehension dawned upon her. "Ummmm you said you didn't want to talk about that. Ever again. Grissom I am sooo not ready for this conversation," Sara stammered.
"Sara I would like to hear the truth from you. I thought that I had long ago grown past it, but sometimes, sometimes it bothers me," he admitted.
Sara turned away from him and looked out of the passenger side window. "I don't know what to say Grissom. I was young and stupid. I've been trying to correct that mistake for four years now," she replied in a soft voice.
"You hurt me," Grissom said as he stared straight ahead at the road.
"You've been hurting me for quite awhile now. Are we even?"
He frowned. "Its not a competition Sara."
"I didn't say it was Grissom, but I don't know what you want from me. I can't take back what happened, and I've spent the past four years hoping you would give us another chance. Is anything I say now going to make that happen?" she asked with despondence.
"Probably not."
"Then why bother?"
He shrugged. "Closure, I suppose."
Sara scoffed. "Closure? Personally I would rather be happy."
To be continued...