Title: Boundaries
Author: Evidence
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Thanks to D. Imagine it's still season 2 and nothing bad has happened to the GSR *G*. This is a WIP with a case file and some Geek moments.
The heat sauntered off of the cracked cement walk. The dog's howling like a wolf at the moon echoed through the still night. The animal control van pulled to a stop in front of 420 Beckworth Street. Chris Van Huesan stepped out of the van adjusting the belt that held his gun, mace and walkie-talkie. He fixed the baseball cap on his head and walked up to the front door of 420 Beckworth Street. The howling was insistent; Chris could see why the neighbors had called to complain.
He knocked loudly on the door but doubted if anyone could hear him. He tried the doorbell but it didn't light up making him feel like no buzzing was echoing through the fairly large house. There was one light inside and Chris tried to take a peak to see if anyone was home. The light was in the living room right off the front door where Chris could see a flowered couch, the lamp, which housed the light, and a bookcase filled with volumes.
He ventured around back pinpointing the howling in that area. That was when he saw the blood droplets. A nice red line of drops leading to the back door. The screen was a jar. Chris called out but there was no reply. His hand gripped the door handle and it easily gave way. He was in the kitchen. White walls and title floor. A wooden table in the middle with a blue rug underneath. On the blue rug laid a man, his eyes wide-open, blood coming from his lips, one hand in a fist.
"Mister, can you hear me?" Chris was checking for a pulse but found none. There was a small wound in his neck by his jugular vein. He now could see the mound of blood that must have come from the neck wound as it littered the floor.
The dog continued to howl and Chris realized he was behind a door that led to the kitchen. Carefully opening the door Chris muttered words of comfort but the dog still leaped out of a small downstairs bathroom grabbing Chris's arm.
Chris had always dealt with animals even long before he had taken his current job. He had been bitten numerous times. The dog's teeth clenched slightly but did not break the skin. Instead the dog, a large German Shepard, let him go and walked over to his master. The dog licked the man's face and nestled his nose in his fisted hand but the man didn't move. Laying down beside his master the dog began howling again.
Chris picked up his walkie talkie and yelling over the noise said. "This is Van Huesan. Send the coroner to 420 Beckworth Street. Someone was murdered here."
****
The Tahoe pulled to a stop a few inches from Jim Brass.
"Hell Gil, watch it! You almost hit me."
"I had plenty of room," Gil Grissom responded taking out his field kit, "at least 4 and a half inches."
"Oh yeah that's a LOT," Brass said with a roll of his eyes.
"In mathematical probability it is because the context of..."
"Grissom! Good, I need you," Sara Sidle's voice echoed a few feet from Brass and Grissom.
Grissom followed the voice, Brass right behind him.
Sara was crouched next to an animal control van petting a large German Shepard. The dog began growling when he saw the two men approaching but Sara rubbed his ears and told him they were friends.
"This is your witness to the crime," Brass said.
"Oh..." Grissom responded. Animals usually were the worst witnesses. First of all they didn't talk and secondly they really couldn't be put on the stand in court.
A young man appeared around the corner of the van very close to Sara. "Hello, you must be Mr. Grissom. I'm Chris Van Huesan, Animal Control Officer for Henderson. I found the dead man and the dog locked up in a downstairs bathroom."
"Was the backdoor open?" Grissom asked.
"Yes, I tried it and it opened right up," Chris paused and looked down at Sara and the dog. "You have a way with animals Ms. Sidle."
"Call me Sara," she responded with a smile.
"Sara it is."
Grissom's stomach clenched. "Captain Brass would you continue interviewing Officer Van Huesan? Sara and I have a crime scene to process."
"Um...sure," Brass responded catching Grissom's sudden change in mood.
Grissom proceeded off to the back of the house Sara hot on his trail.
"Competing in a race?" Sara asked as she caught up to him.
"No, I just want to get the scene secured."
Grissom stopped suddenly and Sara, following Newton's theory of a body in motion tends to stay in motion, collided her shoulder into his.
"Ouch," she said rubbing the injured area.
"You okay?" Grissom asked.
"Yeah just hurt for a second." There was a slight grimace on her face.
Grissom put down his kit and touched tenderly her shoulder. Their eyes met briefly and Grissom quickly receded into his unemotional mode.
"Just a bruise, put some ice on it when you get home." He picked up his kit and turned on his flashlight. The drops of blood that had made him stop glistened under the white light. "Sara, swap the blood drops...please," he added, "I'll lift fingerprints off the door."
They worked in silence for a few minutes and then with a nod of their heads slowly proceeded into the kitchen. Grissom scanned the entire room with his flashlight looking for any other pieces of evidence that might not be obvious. Sara took a few pictures of the room, the blood, the dead man and the bathroom where the dog was put.
"I think whomever did this knew the victim," Sara said looking at a calendar of dogs that hung in the bathroom.
"We have no evidence of that yet."
"Then explain how a stranger got a dog into the bathroom without losing half of his face." Sara gave Grissom a look.
"Maybe he was strong enough to subdue the dog or friendly so that the dog didn't realize there was danger."
"You may know bugs but you don't know dogs"
Grissom looked hurt but Sara grinned. "The dog bit Chris, didn't break the skin but bit him. By instinct a dog knows how to fight and can sense when something is wrong. The only way a dog wouldn't attack was if it knew the person. It would get confused sensing the danger but thinking it could trust the person. So the dog ends up in the bathroom as his master lies dying out here."
Grissom was impressed. "I didn't know you knew so much about canines."
"I had a couple of dogs growing up."
"So you have first hand knowledge of them," Grissom said finishing off his swabbing of the man's fist.
Sara moved on to print the bathroom door. "Yeah when I was born my parents had a black lab."
"Nice breed."
"Yes they are. Blackie..."
"That's certainly original," Grissom said with a small laugh.
"I didn't name the dog. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted- Blackie was so gentle but a good protector. When I was eight a kid knocked me off my bike in front of my house. Blackie came running around and nearly killed the kid. He didn't bite just was growling like crazy."
"He wasn't leashed?"
"Well...no."
"Then you were lucky you weren't sued. Didn't you hear about the case where..."
Sara audibly sighed.
"Never mind then." He turned back to his work.
"I'm sorry," Sara said trying to make amends, "just when you start to ramble..."
"Oh I was rambling?"
"Well not yet..."
"Sara, why don't you go and process the dog see if there are any clues on it."
"But I'm not done in here."
"You are the dog expert and you can visit with your new friend." Grissom gritted this teeth.
"Fine," she said with a huff and left with her kit.
David walked in a few moments later ready to secure the body for transport back to the morgue. He swallowed but asked the question that was nagging at him, "Sir?"
Grissom raised his head. "David I could you just call me Grissom like everyone else."
"Yes sir...um...what's up with Sara?" David pulled open the fist but no item was clenched in it.
Grissom took a photo. "What do you mean?"
"She seemed upset outside."
Now it was Grissom's turn to sigh. "I'm afraid we had an argument."
"Oh," David said, turning the body over and sticking the liver temp thermometer in the cold body. "That would explain why she looked like she was crying."
"Sara's crying?"
"Her eyes are all wet and her voice is slightly cracking."
"I can't believe that is crying because of an argument."
David swallowed again but continued. "You are the only one that can truly hurt her....sir."
Grissom mulled this over as he helped strap the body to the stretcher. He would have to make this up to Sara...somehow.
To be continued...
Author: Evidence
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Thanks to D. Imagine it's still season 2 and nothing bad has happened to the GSR *G*. This is a WIP with a case file and some Geek moments.
The heat sauntered off of the cracked cement walk. The dog's howling like a wolf at the moon echoed through the still night. The animal control van pulled to a stop in front of 420 Beckworth Street. Chris Van Huesan stepped out of the van adjusting the belt that held his gun, mace and walkie-talkie. He fixed the baseball cap on his head and walked up to the front door of 420 Beckworth Street. The howling was insistent; Chris could see why the neighbors had called to complain.
He knocked loudly on the door but doubted if anyone could hear him. He tried the doorbell but it didn't light up making him feel like no buzzing was echoing through the fairly large house. There was one light inside and Chris tried to take a peak to see if anyone was home. The light was in the living room right off the front door where Chris could see a flowered couch, the lamp, which housed the light, and a bookcase filled with volumes.
He ventured around back pinpointing the howling in that area. That was when he saw the blood droplets. A nice red line of drops leading to the back door. The screen was a jar. Chris called out but there was no reply. His hand gripped the door handle and it easily gave way. He was in the kitchen. White walls and title floor. A wooden table in the middle with a blue rug underneath. On the blue rug laid a man, his eyes wide-open, blood coming from his lips, one hand in a fist.
"Mister, can you hear me?" Chris was checking for a pulse but found none. There was a small wound in his neck by his jugular vein. He now could see the mound of blood that must have come from the neck wound as it littered the floor.
The dog continued to howl and Chris realized he was behind a door that led to the kitchen. Carefully opening the door Chris muttered words of comfort but the dog still leaped out of a small downstairs bathroom grabbing Chris's arm.
Chris had always dealt with animals even long before he had taken his current job. He had been bitten numerous times. The dog's teeth clenched slightly but did not break the skin. Instead the dog, a large German Shepard, let him go and walked over to his master. The dog licked the man's face and nestled his nose in his fisted hand but the man didn't move. Laying down beside his master the dog began howling again.
Chris picked up his walkie talkie and yelling over the noise said. "This is Van Huesan. Send the coroner to 420 Beckworth Street. Someone was murdered here."
****
The Tahoe pulled to a stop a few inches from Jim Brass.
"Hell Gil, watch it! You almost hit me."
"I had plenty of room," Gil Grissom responded taking out his field kit, "at least 4 and a half inches."
"Oh yeah that's a LOT," Brass said with a roll of his eyes.
"In mathematical probability it is because the context of..."
"Grissom! Good, I need you," Sara Sidle's voice echoed a few feet from Brass and Grissom.
Grissom followed the voice, Brass right behind him.
Sara was crouched next to an animal control van petting a large German Shepard. The dog began growling when he saw the two men approaching but Sara rubbed his ears and told him they were friends.
"This is your witness to the crime," Brass said.
"Oh..." Grissom responded. Animals usually were the worst witnesses. First of all they didn't talk and secondly they really couldn't be put on the stand in court.
A young man appeared around the corner of the van very close to Sara. "Hello, you must be Mr. Grissom. I'm Chris Van Huesan, Animal Control Officer for Henderson. I found the dead man and the dog locked up in a downstairs bathroom."
"Was the backdoor open?" Grissom asked.
"Yes, I tried it and it opened right up," Chris paused and looked down at Sara and the dog. "You have a way with animals Ms. Sidle."
"Call me Sara," she responded with a smile.
"Sara it is."
Grissom's stomach clenched. "Captain Brass would you continue interviewing Officer Van Huesan? Sara and I have a crime scene to process."
"Um...sure," Brass responded catching Grissom's sudden change in mood.
Grissom proceeded off to the back of the house Sara hot on his trail.
"Competing in a race?" Sara asked as she caught up to him.
"No, I just want to get the scene secured."
Grissom stopped suddenly and Sara, following Newton's theory of a body in motion tends to stay in motion, collided her shoulder into his.
"Ouch," she said rubbing the injured area.
"You okay?" Grissom asked.
"Yeah just hurt for a second." There was a slight grimace on her face.
Grissom put down his kit and touched tenderly her shoulder. Their eyes met briefly and Grissom quickly receded into his unemotional mode.
"Just a bruise, put some ice on it when you get home." He picked up his kit and turned on his flashlight. The drops of blood that had made him stop glistened under the white light. "Sara, swap the blood drops...please," he added, "I'll lift fingerprints off the door."
They worked in silence for a few minutes and then with a nod of their heads slowly proceeded into the kitchen. Grissom scanned the entire room with his flashlight looking for any other pieces of evidence that might not be obvious. Sara took a few pictures of the room, the blood, the dead man and the bathroom where the dog was put.
"I think whomever did this knew the victim," Sara said looking at a calendar of dogs that hung in the bathroom.
"We have no evidence of that yet."
"Then explain how a stranger got a dog into the bathroom without losing half of his face." Sara gave Grissom a look.
"Maybe he was strong enough to subdue the dog or friendly so that the dog didn't realize there was danger."
"You may know bugs but you don't know dogs"
Grissom looked hurt but Sara grinned. "The dog bit Chris, didn't break the skin but bit him. By instinct a dog knows how to fight and can sense when something is wrong. The only way a dog wouldn't attack was if it knew the person. It would get confused sensing the danger but thinking it could trust the person. So the dog ends up in the bathroom as his master lies dying out here."
Grissom was impressed. "I didn't know you knew so much about canines."
"I had a couple of dogs growing up."
"So you have first hand knowledge of them," Grissom said finishing off his swabbing of the man's fist.
Sara moved on to print the bathroom door. "Yeah when I was born my parents had a black lab."
"Nice breed."
"Yes they are. Blackie..."
"That's certainly original," Grissom said with a small laugh.
"I didn't name the dog. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted- Blackie was so gentle but a good protector. When I was eight a kid knocked me off my bike in front of my house. Blackie came running around and nearly killed the kid. He didn't bite just was growling like crazy."
"He wasn't leashed?"
"Well...no."
"Then you were lucky you weren't sued. Didn't you hear about the case where..."
Sara audibly sighed.
"Never mind then." He turned back to his work.
"I'm sorry," Sara said trying to make amends, "just when you start to ramble..."
"Oh I was rambling?"
"Well not yet..."
"Sara, why don't you go and process the dog see if there are any clues on it."
"But I'm not done in here."
"You are the dog expert and you can visit with your new friend." Grissom gritted this teeth.
"Fine," she said with a huff and left with her kit.
David walked in a few moments later ready to secure the body for transport back to the morgue. He swallowed but asked the question that was nagging at him, "Sir?"
Grissom raised his head. "David I could you just call me Grissom like everyone else."
"Yes sir...um...what's up with Sara?" David pulled open the fist but no item was clenched in it.
Grissom took a photo. "What do you mean?"
"She seemed upset outside."
Now it was Grissom's turn to sigh. "I'm afraid we had an argument."
"Oh," David said, turning the body over and sticking the liver temp thermometer in the cold body. "That would explain why she looked like she was crying."
"Sara's crying?"
"Her eyes are all wet and her voice is slightly cracking."
"I can't believe that is crying because of an argument."
David swallowed again but continued. "You are the only one that can truly hurt her....sir."
Grissom mulled this over as he helped strap the body to the stretcher. He would have to make this up to Sara...somehow.
To be continued...