A Shoulder to Lean On

Part Three

Notes and disclaimers in part one

Warrick didn't go straight to PD, checking in with Nick first, gleaning from him that Greg had identified some of the DNA from the crime scene; that one of the samples collected belonged to a brother of Timmy McCallum. So he was interested when sitting beside his mother was Kevin McCallum, older brother of Timmy, who admitted not to being at the warehouse, but to dropping Timmy off, having bought beer for him earlier that night. From the appalled look on Mrs McCallum's face, Warrick believed that she knew nothing about her sons' arrangement, but her words stayed with him for an entirely different reason.

"Mr. Brown, I don't know what to say.  I'm a single mother ... I work nights, and you can't keep your eyes on your kids all the time.  At a certain age, you just have to trust them."

It was a familiar enough line; he'd heard it, or variations thereof, innumerable times in his work as a CSI, or even outside that. About how hard it was for a single mother to balance caring for her kids and providing for her kids, of how there weren't enough hours in the day, of what a struggle it was. Catherine had given him chapter and verse on that often enough, but he knew that it was slightly different for Catherine. At least until recently, Eddie had been around, and while he'd been a faithless husband, he'd worshipped Lindsey, had done his share in helping to raise her. Catherine had a sister too, and friends who were willing to help out with Lindsey if work got in the way, as it so often did.

But Warrick wasn't thinking of Catherine, or even Mrs McCallum.

As for so much of that day, he was thinking of Sara, and he was thinking of how much harder it was going to be for her. She didn't have a family to help her out, didn't even have that many friends, and he was reasonably sure that those she did have came from work, none of whom would be exactly able, even if they were willing, to step in with childcare duties. And there was a world of difference too, he knew, between being a single mom of a grade schooler and a newborn infant. Especially for someone like Sara, whose work was her life, her life her work, with little or nothing outside that.

Keeping his mind on the case was difficult, but he managed to do it, just enough to sympathise with Mrs McCallum. "I understand.  We are going to need to keep Kevin here to ask him some more questions about that night.  Do you object?"

When Mrs McCallum stuttered out, "No," Warrick nodded, standing up and leaving the room, going back to the lab, looking around for Sara, to see if she'd found out anything. He couldn't find her anywhere, until he walked into Jackie, who, for some reason that escaped him, was wearing Greg's swami hat. "Hey Jackie," he said. "Love the-"

He stopped talking when she levelled him with a glare that Sara would have been proud of. "Mention it, and you'll go to the bottom of my list every time you leave evidence in."

From the tone of her voice, she wasn't lying, and he held up both hands, leaving well enough alone. "You seen Sara?"

Jackie's face went from irritation to concern in the blink of an eye. "Everything ok with her?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Warrick was all innocence, and he only hoped that he could pull it off.

Jackie shrugged. "I dunno… she just seems off lately. As if something's bugging her."  She shook her head. "I met her in the hall wearing this thing; she didn't even blink." Reaching up, she adjusted the hat, with an expression on her face that screamed loud and clear she'd like to do a hell of a lot more than that. "That's just not normal."

More innocence from Warrick, and he hoped that Jackie wasn't as perceptive as Nick. "I haven't noticed anything." A pause, then, "She say where she was going?"

"Trace lab." Jackie replied, snickering suddenly. "That'll really help her mood."

Warrick grinned, already moving past her. "Thanks." He made his way down the hall to Trace, where he could hear Hodges's voice from the hall. "What do you think I am, a miracle worker?" he asked, and Warrick rolled his eyes, knowing that the answer to that was definitely in the negative. If Hodges were a miracle worker, he could make people actually like him.

"Well, that's obvious Hodges." Warrick blinked when he heard Sara's voice, because she sounded more like her old self than she had all day, and he knew he'd been right, that working, keeping her mind off things, had done her some good. "If you were a miracle worker, you wouldn't be rude."

Warrick bit back a grin. "That's my girl," he thought.

Anyone else would have stopped after that smackdown, but not Hodges. "I wasn't being rude, I was being curt.  Rude would be, 'When I know, you'll know'." He took a beat then, and Warrick could only imagine the look that Sara was giving Hodges. "Friends?"

"No," Sara replied, her tone matching the look that Warrick imagined perfectly, and that was when he decided that he'd better go inside, lest someone see him standing around and wonder what he was doing, or why. Especially since he couldn't answer either question himself.

"Hodges, how's it coming with that glass?' he said. Hodges tapped the microscope near to Sara, and as invited, Warrick leaned down, checking out the glass. What he saw there surprised him. "Looks like there's some kind of coating on it."

Hodges sounded like the supreme know-it-all he was when he replied, "More specifically, crystallized calcium fluoride."

Warrick stepped back, allowing Sara to look into the scope, and she had a question of her own for Hodges. "You ran it through the I.R.?"

"Please," Hodges scoffed. "I.R. says "fluorspar".  I say "high-end optics"."

"Camera lens," Sara decided instantly, taking the words right out of Warrick's mouth, leaving Warrick to ponder the next question.

"You think someone has this murder on tape?"

Sara shrugged, then, glancing at Hodges, tilted her head in the direction of the door. It was an unmistakeable suggestion, and Warrick nodded silently. They didn't speak again until they were in the hallway. "Murder on tape?" Sara asked, and Warrick lifted one eyebrow, letting out a long breath.

"Could be… it's another thing to ask Kevin when we talk to him again."

"He's still here?"

Warrick nodded. "Mother said it was ok for us to keep him… he's cooling his heels in the interrogation room. See if that does anything to make him talk. Meanwhile, I get to check their car… see if the tyre treads match first."

Sara nodded. "You want a hand with that?" Warrick gave her a look, because the first thought that came to his mind was that maybe crawling around and underneath a car wouldn't be the best thing for her to do. His face must have shown what he was thinking, because she narrowed her eyes. Her lips turned up in a smile though, so he took heart at that. He knew what a really angry Sara looked like, and this wasn't it. "Don't even think about saying it."

Warrick chuckled. "I wouldn't."

"But you'd think it." It was nowhere near a question and he shrugged.

"Can't arrest me for my thoughts." By this time, they were at the break room, and he stopped walking, tilting his head, then checking his watch. "We're about due to go off shift you know."

She stopped too, crossed her arms over her chest, lifting an eyebrow. "You're driving me crazy," she informed him flatly.

"It's a short trip." He didn't even think about his response, and he had to dodge a sharp slap to his upper arm. "Hey!" he protested laughingly, taking a step back, just in case. "So, if you're done assaulting me, you want to grab something to eat?"

Sara considered it for a moment, but only a moment. "The usual place?" she suggested, and he nodded. "You're on."

***

The usual place was an open all hours coffee shop five minutes walk from the lab, a place that served good food cheap, a place that offered the choice of takeout or eat in. Usually, their preferred choice was takeout, food carried back to the lab and eaten in the layout room while they reviewed files, or sometimes, in the lab, over Grissom's strong protests. Today, takeout would have been Sara's choice, and as they walked, she gave Warrick what she evidently considered to be a very good reason for it, that she had to start cataloguing the bullet trajectories. Warrick however, wasn't going to let her away with that. "You have to input data into a computer," he reminded her flatly. "And if you don't watch yourself, you'll end up maxing out on overtime."

Sara tilted her head, considering his point. "Again," she muttered, and he bit his tongue, because he'd been thinking it, even if he hadn't said it.

"The bullets will wait Sara," he said gently, knowing that he was walking a fine line, knowing that he was an inch away from toppling over. "You need to take better care of yourself."

She narrowed her eyes. "Because of…" Her voice trailed off and she looked around furtively, as if she was afraid that someone was around who could overhear them.

"Because you've not been doing it for months," Warrick countered, and when Sara looked down, he knew that she was taking his point on board. "Look, let's compromise." She looked up at that, a hint of a smile in her eyes. "You and me, sit down here, have something to eat, kick back a little. After that, you decide you want to go back to the lab, I won't stop you."

She was silent for a moment, running the proposition through her head, as if looking for hidden catches. "You mean that?"

Her scepticism was palpable, and Warrick grinned, raising his fingers in a time-honoured salute. "Scout's honour," he said, and she burst out laughing.

"You're telling me you were a boy scout?"

"No," he replied, opening the door of the coffee shop for her, letting her go through ahead of him. "But it's the thought that counts."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't otherwise say anything, and they sat down at a booth at the window, ordered their usual choices, though Sara opted to forgo her usual cup of coffee, instead settling for orange juice. Warrick noticed, but didn't say anything, instead turning the conversation to the case and to the many things that might have happened, and what they could do to further the case. By the time their plates were clean, they had several questions for Kevin McCallum, as well as a couple of suggestions for O'Riley. Warrick was feeling pretty ok, the meal having done him the world of good, and he was all ready to go another couple of hours in the lab, despite his earlier words that they were ready to go off shift. Sara though, he couldn't help but notice, looked ready to fall asleep.

"You ok over there?" he asked, more in amusement than worry, and she might have been about to reply, were it not for the fact that a huge yawn cut off any words she might have been preparing.

"Sorry." A slight tinge of pink spread across her cheeks, her lips curling up in a sheepish smile. "I guess it's the food… made me sleepy."

His own lips twitched, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep a full-blown grin from appearing. "Yeah," he said. "The food. That's what it is."

A trademark Sidle-glare was sent in his direction. "Mockery isn't nice Warrick."

"But it's so much fun."

She threw her balled up napkin at him, but she laughed, and he laughed too, before fixing her with a serious look. "So," he said, and she must have heard something in his voice, because her smile faded slightly. "You still feel like going and cataloguing those bullet trajectories?"

Her answer didn't need words, because she actually groaned at the thought. "I think I might head home for a couple hours," she said, and while he might have responded with something along the "I told you so" lines, he didn't even think about doing so. Well, not much anyway.

Instead, he asked her another question, and he didn't really care if she gave him hell for it. "You gonna be ok getting home?"

She gave him a tired smile, nodding. "I'll be fine. All of a sudden, all I want is my bed." She wrinkled her nose, something he couldn't ever remember seeing Sara do before, something that struck him as adorable. "Which is odd. I don't get tired."

"Maybe someone else does." The second the words were out there, he wanted to take them back, but much to his surprise, she just smiled, the type of smile that he never would have associated with Sara Sidle. Moreover, her right hand moved to her abdomen, rubbing there absently.

"Maybe so." They were silent for a moment, her lost in thought, him looking at her. The moment was broken when her eyes met his, and he saw a flicker of doubt there. "Am I doing the right thing Warrick?" she asked, and he didn't hesitate in his answer.

"You're going to be fine Sara. I have no doubts."

Earlier in the day, he might have. But sitting there, with her, he had none. And when he saw her smile, he was even more sure.

***

After he and Sara walked back to the lab, and he made sure that she was in her car and safely on her way home – just short of making her promise to call him when she got home so that he'd know she got there ok – he decided to take his own advice. Heading home, he sacked out the second his head hit the pillow, and it seemed like no time at all until his alarm was blaring and it was time to go back to the lab.

His first stop was the garage, where he checked the tyre treads from the crime scene against the mini-van. On visual observation alone, he knew that they were onto something, but he covered all his bases anyway, hunkering down and putting the clear plastic sheets over the tired treads, proving beyond doubt what he already knew. "Venus and Serena," he murmured. "Perfect match."

That much done, he got down to the serious business of searching the car, and it didn't take him long to hit pay dirt. There, clear as day, was a torn beer carton that bore the price tag of Jenko's Liquor Store, and upon checking the door, he noticed several dark spots. A spray of phenothaline later, those dark spots were bright pink, and he was reaching for his cell phone to call O'Riley, tell him that they were ready to talk to Kevin McCallum.

He was on his way down the hall when he saw Sara coming in the other direction, and he slowed down, giving her a smile. "Hey." Then he looked at his watch. "You just get in?"

Sara nodded, looking abashed. "I overslept," she said, making it sound like a four-letter word, and her cheeks darkened when he laughed. "Don't tell anyone?"

"My lips are sealed," he promised. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask how she was, to point out that she must have been tired if she was sleeping late, but he resisted temptation, instead asking, "So, you're on bullet trajectories?"

Sara nodded. "You want to help?"

He snickered. "Picture that," and Sara shrugged, as if to say that you couldn't blame a girl for trying. "I gotta go over to PD, talk to Kevin McCallum. Blood in the van, and part of a beer carton from Jenko Liquor."

From the look on Sara's face, Warrick wasn't sure whether she was surprised or impressed, and her tone didn't do anything to help. "He was there," she said, and he nodded.

"Looks like. So O'Riley's starting him off, and we'll see what we can get." He checked his watch. "I should be back in an hour, hour and a half? I'll meet you then."

"Great." Sara was already walking past him, but after a couple of steps she turned, grinning at him. "I'll save you some bullets."

"Music to my ears," he quipped, walking backwards down the hallway, not turning until she'd turned the corner.

Warrick went straight to PD, and to his surprise, found Nick there already, standing on the other side of the two-way mirror, watching O'Riley interrogate Kevin McCallum.

"Just talked to Bobby Dawson," Nick said. "All the bullets came from the same gun. 

Nine-millimetre semi-automatic.  How's this going?"

"I found a twelve pack container in the McCallum minivan," Warrick replied. "Sales slip said 'Jenko Liquors'."

Nick nodded. "I'll check the surveillance, see if we can get some footage of this guy." As they watched Kevin McCallum shifted in his seat, uncomfortable under the weight of O'Riley's stare, and when his left arm moved, Warrick noticed something odd on his shirt. For a split-second, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, that he was seeing what he wanted to see, but then Nick spoke, proving that he'd seen the same thing. "What is that on his elbow?"

There was only one person who could answer that, and without further ado, they went into the interrogation room, nodding to O'Riley, Nick asking the detective with a raised eyebrow if they could step in. O'Riley moved his chair back slightly, stretched out one arm to show his approval, and Warrick inclined his head towards Nick, indicating that he should take the lead.

"What's that on your arm?" he demanded, in a voice that didn't allow for argument, but Kevin tried to stonewall anyway.

"It's just a scab," he replied. "Got it skateboarding."

Warrick didn't believe that for a second, but this was Nick's thing, so he let him take the lead. "Can we see it?"

Kevin sighed, but didn't look disposed to move, so Warrick put on his most serious countenance, counting that his frown would intimidate the kid. "Peel it back," he ordered.

Kevin might have been trying to be brave, but with Warrick, Nick and O'Riley all staring daggers at him, he knew when he was beaten. Slowly, he removed the bandage, exposing his cut to their eyes, and Warrick kept his face neutral with difficulty. He didn't pretend to be an expert on abrasions and injuries, had no formal medical training, but he knew a gunshot wound when he saw one.

"Skateboarding?" he asked. "Why don't you stand up and take off your shirt?"

His bravado vanishing by the second, Kevin tried one last feint. "Don't you guys need a warrant for that?"

That was a question that O'Riley chose to deal with, the burly detective managing to insert more threat into a few simple words than Warrick or Nick would ever have been able to accomplish. "We get a warrant, and we're going to strip you down to nothing, then ask you to bend over." He left a slight pause, just long enough to let those words sink in. "Choose."

Kevin let out a long breath, but then he stood up, taking off his shirt, exposing his chest to their gaze. Warrick wasn't the least bit surprised to see that his body was covered in cuts and bruises, almost the same as those that they'd found on Timmy. "Geez, man, what happened to you?" he asked. "Turn around." There were more marks on Kevin's back. "Those are the same markings your brother had.  You want to tell us what went down here?"

He'd thought that they were getting somewhere, but Kevin's next words put paid to that notion. "I can't talk about it.  I'm sorry."

Warrick couldn't help but note that he really did sound it, and maybe Nick heard that too, because he played good cop, saying, "Hey, listen, if you're the victim here, you can tell us. OK?"

Seeing perhaps a slight flicker in Kevin's face, Warrick pressed on with, "Kevin, who did this to you man?"

Kevin looked at him for a long moment and didn't say anything. Then he sat back down again, silent.

End part three