Ok, previous chapter more sappy than really intended. But things will soon brighten.
Nick marched down the hallway with the list of patients hospitalized due to the blast. He slowed down as his full focus was on the papers rather where he was walking.
"Anything?" asked Sara as she passed him.
"Third degree burns, it was a tiny hole in a oxygen tank. All it took was a tiny spark."
"Who would do such a thing? In a hospital?"
Nick didn't answer, instead his eyes darted down the list. "Hey, take a look at this. Do you see what I see?"
She looked at the list. "We have to tell Grissom."
"How are you doing?"
"Leave me alone" Greg practically snapped back.
"Come on, Greg. I'm only trying to reach out here."
"Please leave me alone" he said with the last air of dignity he could find. He was ashamed of the way he had acted, he wasn't the kind to fall apart like that. He only hoped that he could find a rational explanation for all of it.
She sighed. Ok, no one could say that she hadn't tried. She was about to go when her cell phone rung.
It was Grissom, from the hospital.
"What have you found?" Pause. Catherine stared at Greg. "Could you run that by me again?" She was out of there before Greg got a chance to ask what was going on.
Grissom and Brass looked down at the young woman in the hospital bed, a woman with long wavy copper hair and covered in plasters. A woman they had first thought dead.
"Care to tell me how your wallet ended up on a dead person?" asked Brass.
She locked eyes with him. "First I want to tell you why the lab blew up." She took a deep breath. "Several people have died in what the police has classified as unfortunate accidents." She spat out the word like it was venom. "But all these people are connected."
"How?" asked Grissom.
"The tontine."
"What tontine?"
"Two weeks ago a man was wheeled in, a dying man. He started pointing out people to this tontine. At first we have no idea what the devil was going on until he died and his lawyer gathered all the people he had pointed out and congratulated us. My deepest regret is that I left the lab that day. All in all there were ten of us and the last one standing will get the money."
"Why a tontine? Did he know any of you?"
She frowned. "That's the odd part, he didn't." She looked up at Brass again. "His lawyer said that this man wanted to prove that given the right motives people would start killing each other off. I hate to say that the man was right."
This was a bit hard to swallow for both Grissom and Brass.
"Do you have any evidence?"
She shook her head. "That is why I told doctor Owen to call you guys as soon as I came to. There are several doctors who think that this is more than a chain of really bad accidents."
"What kind of accidents?" Grissom's interest was triggered.
"One was killed by lifting weights, the balance-lever cut off his air supply. Apparently it was a bit too heavy for him. Another one fell down the stairs, broke her neck and died instantly. I assume that Tracy is the one in your morgue."
"Tracy who?"
"Tracy Summers. We work the lab together. The reason why she was found with my wallet was probably because she had left hers at home and I told that I could lend her some money."
"Do you often hand out your wallet to co-workers?"
"Only those I trust with my life. And if you think that I'm behind it I would more than want to know what motive I possibly could have? My father left me over six million dollars after his death. If you don't trust me, I welcome you to ask Greg Sanders, I believe he works at your lab?" She raised her eyebrows.
"Yes, and he thinks you are dead" said Grissom.
"I believe he has taken it with composure. But I'll let him know as soon as I get out of this bed that I'm not dead."
"You'd better tell him now, he is pretty... broken."
Grissom returned to the crime lab and put his team to work instantly. Then he went over to Greg. "Someone is waiting for you in my office." With these words he walked off.
Greg stood there like a dumbstruck fool for a bit before he muttered something that didn't even make sense to him and headed for Grissom's office.
He opened the office door and his heart nearly caught in his throat at the sight of the woman who slowly turned around. About a hundred different feelings and thoughts rushed through him. This couldn't be right, he had to be dreaming. But there she was. "Savannah?" His grip around the handle tightened and his knuckles turned white.
She just stood there for a few heartbeats before she threw out her arms. "Surprise?"
He snorted. "Surprise?" Within seconds he was over by her side, hugging her.
"Hey, tiger, careful, temporary broken."
He let go of her and looked at her. "I thought you were dead."
She pushed her hair away from her face. "So I've heard."
The following seconds he truly hoped that he didn't blush. "Shut up." He smiled.
"But I found it really sweet that you wept for me."
He stared at her. "I still can't believe that you..." He pointed at the door. "Then who's in the morgue?"
"I'm pretty sure it's Tracy Summers." She sighed. "Thanks to her no one else were killed. She took most of the blast."
"She is burnt beyond recognition."
"In lack of a better place to put the oxygen tanks they were placed in the lab. There must have been a leak or something." She shook her head. "It really kills me that Tracy has to die because some sleazeball wants money."
"Money?" He sat down on the edge of Grissom's desk, knowing that was strictly prohibited but the man in question wasn't there.
"As I told Brass and Grissom; a week ago this old dying man was rolled in, a mean, old, cheap bastard. Just for fun he pointed out ten people to this tontine."
"Tontine?"
"Yes, after this Italian Tonti. It's a form of hereditary share, only that the last survivor is the only one who will get the money. He picked out ten people at random just to prove that humans are really greedy, savage beasts. He wanted to prove that honest people would started killing each other over nickels."
Greg frowned. "Didn't he have any relatives?"
"Someone in New Jersey, but he would rather have a bit of fun. Too bad it will be after his death. Bet he sits in some level of hell, looking upon this with a huge grin."
"He just picked ten random people? All doctors?"
She shook her head. "The janitor. No problem there, a juicy cold will be the end of him, two students and of course Chris."
"Your ex?"
"Yeah, he died on his table." She took a deep breath and it looked like she needed to say something, but didn't know how.
"You need a place to stay?"
She nodded.
He put an arm around her. "You can stay at my place if you don't want to be alone."
"It's vital that no one knows I'm still alive. If they knew... well... That blast was meant for me."
End sappy, from here on end the story will take a rather different turn.
Nick marched down the hallway with the list of patients hospitalized due to the blast. He slowed down as his full focus was on the papers rather where he was walking.
"Anything?" asked Sara as she passed him.
"Third degree burns, it was a tiny hole in a oxygen tank. All it took was a tiny spark."
"Who would do such a thing? In a hospital?"
Nick didn't answer, instead his eyes darted down the list. "Hey, take a look at this. Do you see what I see?"
She looked at the list. "We have to tell Grissom."
"How are you doing?"
"Leave me alone" Greg practically snapped back.
"Come on, Greg. I'm only trying to reach out here."
"Please leave me alone" he said with the last air of dignity he could find. He was ashamed of the way he had acted, he wasn't the kind to fall apart like that. He only hoped that he could find a rational explanation for all of it.
She sighed. Ok, no one could say that she hadn't tried. She was about to go when her cell phone rung.
It was Grissom, from the hospital.
"What have you found?" Pause. Catherine stared at Greg. "Could you run that by me again?" She was out of there before Greg got a chance to ask what was going on.
Grissom and Brass looked down at the young woman in the hospital bed, a woman with long wavy copper hair and covered in plasters. A woman they had first thought dead.
"Care to tell me how your wallet ended up on a dead person?" asked Brass.
She locked eyes with him. "First I want to tell you why the lab blew up." She took a deep breath. "Several people have died in what the police has classified as unfortunate accidents." She spat out the word like it was venom. "But all these people are connected."
"How?" asked Grissom.
"The tontine."
"What tontine?"
"Two weeks ago a man was wheeled in, a dying man. He started pointing out people to this tontine. At first we have no idea what the devil was going on until he died and his lawyer gathered all the people he had pointed out and congratulated us. My deepest regret is that I left the lab that day. All in all there were ten of us and the last one standing will get the money."
"Why a tontine? Did he know any of you?"
She frowned. "That's the odd part, he didn't." She looked up at Brass again. "His lawyer said that this man wanted to prove that given the right motives people would start killing each other off. I hate to say that the man was right."
This was a bit hard to swallow for both Grissom and Brass.
"Do you have any evidence?"
She shook her head. "That is why I told doctor Owen to call you guys as soon as I came to. There are several doctors who think that this is more than a chain of really bad accidents."
"What kind of accidents?" Grissom's interest was triggered.
"One was killed by lifting weights, the balance-lever cut off his air supply. Apparently it was a bit too heavy for him. Another one fell down the stairs, broke her neck and died instantly. I assume that Tracy is the one in your morgue."
"Tracy who?"
"Tracy Summers. We work the lab together. The reason why she was found with my wallet was probably because she had left hers at home and I told that I could lend her some money."
"Do you often hand out your wallet to co-workers?"
"Only those I trust with my life. And if you think that I'm behind it I would more than want to know what motive I possibly could have? My father left me over six million dollars after his death. If you don't trust me, I welcome you to ask Greg Sanders, I believe he works at your lab?" She raised her eyebrows.
"Yes, and he thinks you are dead" said Grissom.
"I believe he has taken it with composure. But I'll let him know as soon as I get out of this bed that I'm not dead."
"You'd better tell him now, he is pretty... broken."
Grissom returned to the crime lab and put his team to work instantly. Then he went over to Greg. "Someone is waiting for you in my office." With these words he walked off.
Greg stood there like a dumbstruck fool for a bit before he muttered something that didn't even make sense to him and headed for Grissom's office.
He opened the office door and his heart nearly caught in his throat at the sight of the woman who slowly turned around. About a hundred different feelings and thoughts rushed through him. This couldn't be right, he had to be dreaming. But there she was. "Savannah?" His grip around the handle tightened and his knuckles turned white.
She just stood there for a few heartbeats before she threw out her arms. "Surprise?"
He snorted. "Surprise?" Within seconds he was over by her side, hugging her.
"Hey, tiger, careful, temporary broken."
He let go of her and looked at her. "I thought you were dead."
She pushed her hair away from her face. "So I've heard."
The following seconds he truly hoped that he didn't blush. "Shut up." He smiled.
"But I found it really sweet that you wept for me."
He stared at her. "I still can't believe that you..." He pointed at the door. "Then who's in the morgue?"
"I'm pretty sure it's Tracy Summers." She sighed. "Thanks to her no one else were killed. She took most of the blast."
"She is burnt beyond recognition."
"In lack of a better place to put the oxygen tanks they were placed in the lab. There must have been a leak or something." She shook her head. "It really kills me that Tracy has to die because some sleazeball wants money."
"Money?" He sat down on the edge of Grissom's desk, knowing that was strictly prohibited but the man in question wasn't there.
"As I told Brass and Grissom; a week ago this old dying man was rolled in, a mean, old, cheap bastard. Just for fun he pointed out ten people to this tontine."
"Tontine?"
"Yes, after this Italian Tonti. It's a form of hereditary share, only that the last survivor is the only one who will get the money. He picked out ten people at random just to prove that humans are really greedy, savage beasts. He wanted to prove that honest people would started killing each other over nickels."
Greg frowned. "Didn't he have any relatives?"
"Someone in New Jersey, but he would rather have a bit of fun. Too bad it will be after his death. Bet he sits in some level of hell, looking upon this with a huge grin."
"He just picked ten random people? All doctors?"
She shook her head. "The janitor. No problem there, a juicy cold will be the end of him, two students and of course Chris."
"Your ex?"
"Yeah, he died on his table." She took a deep breath and it looked like she needed to say something, but didn't know how.
"You need a place to stay?"
She nodded.
He put an arm around her. "You can stay at my place if you don't want to be alone."
"It's vital that no one knows I'm still alive. If they knew... well... That blast was meant for me."
End sappy, from here on end the story will take a rather different turn.