From Fever To Death
By: Anti Darth Ani
Based on the TV series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Author's Note:
Try to listen to Justin Guarini while reading this chapter. It really adds something to it. Or at least I think it does. Maybe I'm just crazy. Another new chapter, just for all my readers and reviewers. Without you, I'm just a weirdo writing stuff to myself. J
Synopsis:
Sara, Nick, and Warrick investigate the death of a ten-year-old girl who suddenly died in her kitchen while her parents were at a dinner party. But with the pressure of the case, Sara can't help having bad memories brought back up about her past. Emotions are heightened and things start to change with a few of the co-workers.
Action/Mystery/Suspense/Romance
PG-13 - For violence, language, and some sexuality.
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CHAPTER THREE
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"So what do you have for me tonight?" Spiky haired Greg Sanders asked, looking over the top of his celebrity gossip magazine. Nick sat down on the edge of the long, metal table. He set the tube with the cotton swab, the plastic bag with the small piece of glass, and the fingerprint paper on the table in front of the young DNA personnel. "It's you're lucky day, Greg-o," Nick assured him. "Now, how soon are you going to be able to get all these processed for me?" Nick asked.
"Well, believe it or not, I'm actually finally caught up. And with Catherine and Grissom not on a case, you'll on the front burner. Actually," he paused, thinking, "You'll be on the only burner. How often is that?"
"Rare. Very rare," Nick told him, pushing the evidence closer. "Work before pleasure while you're in the lab, Sanders. You'd better get started. I want at least the substance on the swab by the time I get back from watching Warrick and Brass interview who may be our only witness."
Without waiting for a response from Greg, Nick pushed his way through the double glass doors. He made his way down the sterile white hallway to the interrogation rooms. Sara was already looking in on a room where Nick saw Detective Brass, Warrick, and a lady would could have been well into her sixties. Nick walked up and stood next to Sara. They were looking through a tinted window that appeared to be a mirror on the other side of it. "You're just in time," Sara told him. "They're just about to start with her. They already got her name, but like our wonderful McAllisters, she isn't a big talker."
Nick didn't say a single word, but he did nod his head to let Sara know that he had heard her. He didn't want to seem rude. Crossing his arms across his chest, Nick stared hard at the old woman, trying to pick up a sense on what type of woman she was. Her hair was gray with aged and her skin sagged under her eyes. Her forehead was creased. She didn't seem like the best person for a witness. Of course, they didn't even know if she knew anything in the first place.
Sara rested a hand on his shoulder softly. Nick was startled by the contact. He had totally forgotten that she was even in the room with him. "Are you okay?" Sara asked him, glancing at him sideways before pulling her hand back. Nick nodded and then they both became quite when Brass started to talk again. Warrick had sat down across the table from the lady, but Brass remained standing.
"Mrs. Johnson, how well do you know Emily McAllister and her parents?" Warrick asked calmly. He believed by his own gut that the old woman was harmless. But a crime was a crime and it wasn't as if senior citizens were incapable of killing. It was far from the truth.
Mrs. Johnson looked at him nervously. Her voice trembled while she talked, "Emily is, or was, such a dear. She always helped me in my garden on the weekends. I always made her chocolate chip cookies when she came over. I never really talked to her parents too much. I used to, but since Fred got the promotion and Marge got a second job, I haven't seen much of either of them. Recently, they have been calling more frequently to see if I could check up on Emily every once in a while. I always offer to her parents that she could come over to my house, but they never liked that idea. I still can't believe anything bad would happen to such a sweet, little girl." she wrung her fingers nervously. Her hand went and clutched her silver cross around her neck, "God had better plans for her."
Brass rested a hand on the metal table, "Do you think that her parents ever abused her or mistreated her?" he asked seriously.
Mrs. Johnson studied her hands. "I don't think they ever physically abused her. But they were never home and I could tell that she was almost always lonely. Ever time she came over to help in my garden, she would tell me how much she loved visiting me. I truly believe that she just needed to be around people more often. She always commented on how much she loved school and her friends."
Warrick glanced at the mirror. Nick and Sara both noticed this. They were uneasy with the situation. They, like Warrick, didn't believe that the seemingly sweet, old lady would have hurt Emily. She almost sounded like Emily's guardian angel. Of course, if this was true, then they were back to the parents as being suspects. They hadn't been able to get in touch with the boss yet. They had left a few messages with his secretary, but he hadn't called back yet.
"Can you walk us through what happened earlier tonight, before you called 911 to report Emily's death?" Brass asked patiently. Warrick could tell Brass wanted to crack this lady soon if there was anything to crack. Warrick decided to keep his mouth shut.
Mrs. Johnson nodded slowly, her head moving with effort. "Marge and Fred called me at the last moment, as always. They said they had a dinner party to attend. They told me that Emily had planned on spending the night at a friend's house, but she hadn't been feeling well, so they made her stay home. I told them that of course I would check in on Emily for them. I always check up on her every half an hour. I knock on the front door and she usually comes and answers the door and assures me that she is ok.
"On the rare occasion that she doesn't open the door, like if she's in the shower or on the phone, I have a spare key to their house. I go in through the living room and find her, make sure she is okay, and then lock up after myself. Tonight, she answered the door the first four times I checked up on her. The fifth time, I figured she might have gone to bed early, so I let myself in and went up to her room. I didn't see her, so I checked the entire house. I found her on the kitchen floor. She looked as if she had passed out. I panicked and tried to wake her up, but she didn't stir.
"So I called 911 and told them it was an emergency. After I hung up, I prayed for her to join God and then I remembered that I had left the stove on. I went home to turn it off. By the time I had that done, I heard the ambulances and I didn't think I was needed. I would have just been in the way."
"Sara?" Nick asked when he glanced over at her once Mrs. Johnson had finished speaking. Sara had unconscientiously pressed one hand up against the glass. She stared into the room without even blinking. After a minute, she hadn't answered him. Nick took a step toward her and reached out to pull her arm away. As soon as his hand touched the skin on her arm, Sara jolted, her hand going to her heart. "God, Nick. You scared the crap out of me!" she gasped, but she was actually smiling. "I totally spaced out for a minute."
"Yeah, you did. Are you okay, Sara? You've seemed a little off ever since we started this case," Nick observed, concerned.
"I'm just a little tired," Sara lied. "I didn't get much sleep last night," she told him, turning her attention back to the glass, only to discover that Warrick had stood up and was holding the door open for Mrs. Johnson. Brass stayed in the room for a few more moments before following out after Warrick.
"So what do you guys think about our Christian, old Mrs. Johnson?" Warrick asked, walking up to Nick and Sara.
"I don't think she's ever hurt a fly in her life. It does seem odd that she would leave her house with the stove on in the first place, but she's odd and elderly people often forget about things like that," Nick enlightened Warrick. "Did you get any fingerprints off the front door handle?" he asked Warrick.
Warrick nodded, "Now what kind of CSI would I be if I didn't even lift fingerprints off the main entrances and exits. What do you think, Sara?"
Sara shrugged at Warrick, "I'm undecided. She may be old, but that doesn't mean she's innocent. I've seen a lot of these crimes before. I suggest we let the evidence do the talking."
Warrick turned to Nick, "Doesn't that sound familiar? I thought we'd gotten rid of that kind of talk while Grissom was gone." He wrapped an arm around Sara's shoulder. "You're not turning on us, are you?" he kidding. Sara sighed and shook her head, but she couldn't help smiling.
By: Anti Darth Ani
Based on the TV series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Author's Note:
Try to listen to Justin Guarini while reading this chapter. It really adds something to it. Or at least I think it does. Maybe I'm just crazy. Another new chapter, just for all my readers and reviewers. Without you, I'm just a weirdo writing stuff to myself. J
Synopsis:
Sara, Nick, and Warrick investigate the death of a ten-year-old girl who suddenly died in her kitchen while her parents were at a dinner party. But with the pressure of the case, Sara can't help having bad memories brought back up about her past. Emotions are heightened and things start to change with a few of the co-workers.
Action/Mystery/Suspense/Romance
PG-13 - For violence, language, and some sexuality.
----------
CHAPTER THREE
----------
"So what do you have for me tonight?" Spiky haired Greg Sanders asked, looking over the top of his celebrity gossip magazine. Nick sat down on the edge of the long, metal table. He set the tube with the cotton swab, the plastic bag with the small piece of glass, and the fingerprint paper on the table in front of the young DNA personnel. "It's you're lucky day, Greg-o," Nick assured him. "Now, how soon are you going to be able to get all these processed for me?" Nick asked.
"Well, believe it or not, I'm actually finally caught up. And with Catherine and Grissom not on a case, you'll on the front burner. Actually," he paused, thinking, "You'll be on the only burner. How often is that?"
"Rare. Very rare," Nick told him, pushing the evidence closer. "Work before pleasure while you're in the lab, Sanders. You'd better get started. I want at least the substance on the swab by the time I get back from watching Warrick and Brass interview who may be our only witness."
Without waiting for a response from Greg, Nick pushed his way through the double glass doors. He made his way down the sterile white hallway to the interrogation rooms. Sara was already looking in on a room where Nick saw Detective Brass, Warrick, and a lady would could have been well into her sixties. Nick walked up and stood next to Sara. They were looking through a tinted window that appeared to be a mirror on the other side of it. "You're just in time," Sara told him. "They're just about to start with her. They already got her name, but like our wonderful McAllisters, she isn't a big talker."
Nick didn't say a single word, but he did nod his head to let Sara know that he had heard her. He didn't want to seem rude. Crossing his arms across his chest, Nick stared hard at the old woman, trying to pick up a sense on what type of woman she was. Her hair was gray with aged and her skin sagged under her eyes. Her forehead was creased. She didn't seem like the best person for a witness. Of course, they didn't even know if she knew anything in the first place.
Sara rested a hand on his shoulder softly. Nick was startled by the contact. He had totally forgotten that she was even in the room with him. "Are you okay?" Sara asked him, glancing at him sideways before pulling her hand back. Nick nodded and then they both became quite when Brass started to talk again. Warrick had sat down across the table from the lady, but Brass remained standing.
"Mrs. Johnson, how well do you know Emily McAllister and her parents?" Warrick asked calmly. He believed by his own gut that the old woman was harmless. But a crime was a crime and it wasn't as if senior citizens were incapable of killing. It was far from the truth.
Mrs. Johnson looked at him nervously. Her voice trembled while she talked, "Emily is, or was, such a dear. She always helped me in my garden on the weekends. I always made her chocolate chip cookies when she came over. I never really talked to her parents too much. I used to, but since Fred got the promotion and Marge got a second job, I haven't seen much of either of them. Recently, they have been calling more frequently to see if I could check up on Emily every once in a while. I always offer to her parents that she could come over to my house, but they never liked that idea. I still can't believe anything bad would happen to such a sweet, little girl." she wrung her fingers nervously. Her hand went and clutched her silver cross around her neck, "God had better plans for her."
Brass rested a hand on the metal table, "Do you think that her parents ever abused her or mistreated her?" he asked seriously.
Mrs. Johnson studied her hands. "I don't think they ever physically abused her. But they were never home and I could tell that she was almost always lonely. Ever time she came over to help in my garden, she would tell me how much she loved visiting me. I truly believe that she just needed to be around people more often. She always commented on how much she loved school and her friends."
Warrick glanced at the mirror. Nick and Sara both noticed this. They were uneasy with the situation. They, like Warrick, didn't believe that the seemingly sweet, old lady would have hurt Emily. She almost sounded like Emily's guardian angel. Of course, if this was true, then they were back to the parents as being suspects. They hadn't been able to get in touch with the boss yet. They had left a few messages with his secretary, but he hadn't called back yet.
"Can you walk us through what happened earlier tonight, before you called 911 to report Emily's death?" Brass asked patiently. Warrick could tell Brass wanted to crack this lady soon if there was anything to crack. Warrick decided to keep his mouth shut.
Mrs. Johnson nodded slowly, her head moving with effort. "Marge and Fred called me at the last moment, as always. They said they had a dinner party to attend. They told me that Emily had planned on spending the night at a friend's house, but she hadn't been feeling well, so they made her stay home. I told them that of course I would check in on Emily for them. I always check up on her every half an hour. I knock on the front door and she usually comes and answers the door and assures me that she is ok.
"On the rare occasion that she doesn't open the door, like if she's in the shower or on the phone, I have a spare key to their house. I go in through the living room and find her, make sure she is okay, and then lock up after myself. Tonight, she answered the door the first four times I checked up on her. The fifth time, I figured she might have gone to bed early, so I let myself in and went up to her room. I didn't see her, so I checked the entire house. I found her on the kitchen floor. She looked as if she had passed out. I panicked and tried to wake her up, but she didn't stir.
"So I called 911 and told them it was an emergency. After I hung up, I prayed for her to join God and then I remembered that I had left the stove on. I went home to turn it off. By the time I had that done, I heard the ambulances and I didn't think I was needed. I would have just been in the way."
"Sara?" Nick asked when he glanced over at her once Mrs. Johnson had finished speaking. Sara had unconscientiously pressed one hand up against the glass. She stared into the room without even blinking. After a minute, she hadn't answered him. Nick took a step toward her and reached out to pull her arm away. As soon as his hand touched the skin on her arm, Sara jolted, her hand going to her heart. "God, Nick. You scared the crap out of me!" she gasped, but she was actually smiling. "I totally spaced out for a minute."
"Yeah, you did. Are you okay, Sara? You've seemed a little off ever since we started this case," Nick observed, concerned.
"I'm just a little tired," Sara lied. "I didn't get much sleep last night," she told him, turning her attention back to the glass, only to discover that Warrick had stood up and was holding the door open for Mrs. Johnson. Brass stayed in the room for a few more moments before following out after Warrick.
"So what do you guys think about our Christian, old Mrs. Johnson?" Warrick asked, walking up to Nick and Sara.
"I don't think she's ever hurt a fly in her life. It does seem odd that she would leave her house with the stove on in the first place, but she's odd and elderly people often forget about things like that," Nick enlightened Warrick. "Did you get any fingerprints off the front door handle?" he asked Warrick.
Warrick nodded, "Now what kind of CSI would I be if I didn't even lift fingerprints off the main entrances and exits. What do you think, Sara?"
Sara shrugged at Warrick, "I'm undecided. She may be old, but that doesn't mean she's innocent. I've seen a lot of these crimes before. I suggest we let the evidence do the talking."
Warrick turned to Nick, "Doesn't that sound familiar? I thought we'd gotten rid of that kind of talk while Grissom was gone." He wrapped an arm around Sara's shoulder. "You're not turning on us, are you?" he kidding. Sara sighed and shook her head, but she couldn't help smiling.