Wednesday, July 16th, 2003

5:57 am


Stifling a yawn, a bleary eyed female with kohl-lined eyelids raises her white Styrofoam airline coffee cup and gulps down the remainder of the contents. Shifting in her seat, she adjusts the gun holstered at her left hip. The plane lurches suddenly and the lean, brunette man sitting to her right clutches the metal armrest between them. Forehead beaded with sweat, he tugs at the pristine white collar beneath his light grey suit jacket, loosening his perfectly knotted blue and red striped tie.

I told you not to have that power-shake thing, she says pointedly, motioning to the flight attendant for some more coffee before flipping her wavy auburn hair off her left shoulder.

Give me a break, Dani. I didn't think the flight would be this bumpy. Groaning, he lays a hand over his stomach as his face turns a sickly shade of green.

Brad, we're flying over mountains into the desert in the middle of July. What were you expecting? she asks incredulously. I know Formula One races with less twists and turns. Rolling her eyes, she smoothes out the nonexistent wrinkles in her short- sleeved forest green blouse and blue jeans. A pair of low-heeled black leather boots complete her outfit.

With a wide, practiced smile plastered across her face, the blonde flight attendant refills Dani's coffee cup from a stainless steel carafe.

Miss, how much longer until we land in Las Vegas? Brad asks weakly, eyeing the small white bag tucked in the pocket of the seat in front of him. The idea of throwing up in front of Dani makes his stomach churn even harder. What could be more embarrassing, he wonders silently.

About half an hour, sir, she replies brightly before moving on.

Brad watches Dani add multiple packets of sugar to her coffee, stir and then take a large sip of the steaming hot contents.

How can you drink that sludge? he asks.

Dani stifles another yawn. Are you kidding me? I've had, like, four hours of sleep, it's 6 am and we won't see our hotel rooms for at least another 16 hours. That's if we're lucky.

Thank you Miss Merry Sunshine, Brad fires back sarcastically. I feel better already.

Hey, I'm being realistic. Caffeine is what is going to get me through today, not some chalky tasting power bar.

The plane lurches again and Brad groans, closing his eyes.

Oh, this is going to be a long day, Dani remarks dryly before raising her coffee cup to her mouth and taking another sip. A very long day.

* * *


7:35 am

It's hot. Hades hot.

Las Vegas in July.

Stepping out of McCarren International Airport, Dani grimaces at the heat already radiating from the pavement as she plucks at her blouse, attempting to move the air against her skin. A large Starbucks iced coffee is clutched in her other hand, a laptop case and small purse slung over her shoulder. Black sunglasses shield her eyes from the bright sunlight.

It's gotta be 110 degrees out here, Brad moans. Directing the luggage cart in front of him with his right hand, his left stabilizes the file boxes stacked three high. Two medium sized suitcases, two garment bags and a large plastic toolbox sit in the cart in front of the cardboard boxes.

Tilting her head to one side and pushing her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose, Dani replies, No, I'm guessing about 93, maybe 95. It's gonna be hot though. Triple digits before 10 am I bet.

How would you know?

Living in Las Vegas for six years. Air conditioning is a must.

Coming to a stop in front of parking space 124, Brad digs a set of keys out of his pants pocket and opens the trunk of a mid-sized sedan while Dani produces her own set of keys. Placing her iced coffee on the roof, Dani unlocks the already roasting car. After placing her laptop case and purse in the back seat, she helps Brad load the remaining suitcase and plastic toolbox into the trunk.

I'll drive, Dani says, slamming the metal lid of the trunk closed.

Raising an eyebrow, Brad walks over to the passenger side of the rental car as he straightens his tie. Okay. Why?

Because I know where we're going, she replies before sliding into the driver's seat. Trust me, this is my town.

* * *


8:05 am

So who are we supposed to check in with at Homicide? Dani asks, shifting a file box to her right hip as she and Brad cross the west parking lot of the LVPD and make their way to the entrance. Dani's laptop case and purse are slung over her shoulder and Brad carries the remaining file boxes.

Uh, Brass, Brad replies, screwing up his face in thought. Captain Brass.

Jim Brass? Dani asks, her stomach involuntarily tightening.

Brad arches an eyebrow.

My old boss.





Pulling the glass door open, Dani jerks her head, instructing Brad to enter before her. Setting her box on the counter, she produces a badge from the back pocket of her jeans and shows it to the male officer standing on the other side of the counter. Brad sets his boxes on the floor and pulls out a police badge.

Dani smiles as she hooks her sunglasses in the v-neck of her blouse. Bennett and Carmichael to see Captain Brass, please.

Consulting a clipboard, the officer replies, He's expecting you.

We also have evidence that needs to be checked in, Brad supplies.

The desk clerk points down the hall. Take the first left, then the second right. Evidence office is the third door on the right.

I'll take care of these, Brad says, gesturing to the evidence boxes. I'll call Charlie and check in. You can say hello to your old boss.

Dani growls under her breath.

No, smart. Picking up all three file boxes, Brad grins cheekily and disappears down the hall.

Rolling her eyes, Dani turns back to the desk clerk. Where's Brass?

He points down the opposite hall. Desk Sergeant can direct you.



* * *


8:10 am

After taking a deep breath and pulling her shoulders back, Dani knocks sharply on the frosted glass door bearing her old supervisor's name.

Come in, is the gruff reply.

Pushing the door open, Dani comes face to face with Brass and Grissom.

the scientist says, his eyes not even trying to hide his surprise.

Hey Grissom, Brass. How's it going?

Gil smiles gently. You're the last person I expected to walk through that door.

I'll bet.

What brings you to Las Vegas?

A case. Did you catch the 419 last night? Dani asks hopefully.

As a matter of fact, I did.

Oh thank God, she moans. I was afraid I was going to get stuck with Ecklie.

Grissom chokes back a laugh.

Where is Detective Carmichael? Jim asks after consulting a piece of paper on his desk.

He's checking some boxes into evidence right now. Chain of custody, she explains, adjusting the strap of the laptop case on her shoulder. Brad is my partner.

And you're the CSI who's been investigating the previous cases, Brass adds, his tone rivaling the temperature of an ice cube. The one who's been sent to take over.

Yes, I've been investigating the previous murders. No, I'm not here to take over. We don't even know for sure if the cases are related yet, Dani clarifies, looping a stray lock of red hair behind her left ear. I'm here to take a look and see where we go from here.

Grissom frowns and consults his watch. How did you get here so fast?

Brad and I were in LA, investigating a similar series of murders when someone from this precinct contacted Brad's boss, Captain Charlie Reynolds in D.C., she explains. We caught the first flight out this morning.

The phone on the detective's desk rings and Brass snatches it up. A moment later he covers the mouthpiece. I've got to take this. I'll catch up.

Shall we go to my office? Grissom asks, gesturing towards the door.

Lead the way.

* * *


8:17 am

Grissom closes the door behind him after ushering Dani into his cramped office. Setting her purse and laptop case down, she moves slowly across the room, her eyes wandering over the full, but organized shelves.

I like the scruff, Dani says, glancing over at him and gesturing to the newly grown facial hair. It looks good on you.

I felt like I needed a change, the scientist offers noncommittally, but smiles at the compliment.

Miss Piggy! She laughs, running her index finger along the side of the glass jar containing an irradiated fetal pig preserved in formaldehyde. I almost forgot you had her.

Cracking a smile, Grissom sits down behind his desk and opens a brown file folder.

I read a briefing about the murders on the FBI's NCIC about three months ago, but I don't recall your name being mentioned, he says, looking over the rim of his glasses.

Getting my name on the front page doesn't interest me, Dani replies as she takes a seat across from him. You know that. I do my job, the bad guys go to jail, I go home. That's all I need.

Who's in charge of the D.C. office these days? Grissom asks, curious to know who Dani has been working with.

Dwayne Hicks has been running the show for almost two years now.

Grissom nods in approval. I've heard good things about him.

They're probably true.

So how long have you been on the case?

Dani sighs. Over eleven months.

Angling his head to one side, Grissom asks, And the FBI?

The Washington office lost interest after five months of no leads. Personally I think they were relieved when we had confirmation that the killer had moved on to LA. Dani folds her arms across her chest. It's easier to avoid talking about a problem if it's on the opposite side of the country.

Wordlessly, Grissom nods.

Do you mind if I speculate about your victim?

Be my guest, Grissom invites, leaning back in his chair to listen.

Female, between 28 and 30, 5'8 to 5'11, medium build. Lives alone, no evidence of a boyfriend. Red hair, but it's not natural. Very recent dye job. How am I doing?

So far so good.

She was found in the bedroom. The only point of disturbance was the bed itself. Rest of the room is meticulously neat as is the rest of the dwelling. No personal items were removed, as far you can tell. She was on her back, naked, with her legs open. One stab wound to the torso, but it's not the fatal wound. Signs of cyanosis. Blue face, lips and fingers, but no ligature marks on the neck. Cause of death was suffocation.

When she pauses, Grissom speaks. I've seen the prelim, but Robbins is still in post. He and David had a multiple car pile up to deal with. Quite a few weren't wearing seat belts.

Dani grimaces. Busy night on death row.



Eyes downcast, she softly says, You know what's left.

The details kept from the public; to be sure that the murders are in fact related, and not the work of a copycat, Grissom supplies.

Evidence of an object rape and the words, you're mine whore' carved into her back, inflicted 36 to 48 hours before her death. And last but not least, a letter typed on the victim's own computer, addressed to Looking up, she watches Gil's face darken.

Catching an odd look in her eyes, Grissom leans forward.

You need to know that I'm the Strawberry' he's leaving the letters for.



He must've seen my picture in a newspaper or maybe he was there in the crowd at the first scene. The letters started showing up at the second murder. Exhaling slowly, Dani pushes her bangs off her face and looks up. Grissom, I need your help. You're the best signature guy, not to mention the best crime scene investigator I know.

Thank you. You're very kind.

It's the truth.

So he's in Las Vegas. What else do you know about him? the scientist asks as he picks up a photo of the latest crime scene and passes it across the desk.

Dani grimaces at the glossy photo of the vicious cuts to the back of the victim. Well, if he holds true to pattern, he'll kill two more before he leaves town. Unless we catch him first.

Grissom tilts his head to one side. What do you need from the lab?

Who's on your team?

Catherine, Nick, Warrick and Sara. Sara Sidle.

Dani raises her eyebrows at the ever so slightly softer tone Grissom uses when he says Sara's name. New girl?

He nods. There were some problems replacing you. She came here about a month after you left.

Shifting uncomfortably in the chair, Dani finally looks up and makes eye contact again. Why are you being so nice to me? Brass is obviously still mad at me for leaving.

Grissom shrugs. When you worked here, you never did anything without a good reason. I figured it must've been important. If it was my business, you would've told me.

That's incredibly generous of you, she replies softly.

Well, I wasn't your boss.

Oh yeah, congrats on the promotion, Dani offers sincerely. Do you like it?

I curse more.

Dani laughs lightly and then a comfortable moment of silence passes. Running her fingers through her hair to draw it off her face, she finally says, Well, I suppose we should get to work.

Good idea.

If you don't mind, I'd like you and Catherine to go over everything from the previous six murders.

Sure, but why?

I want people I trust to look over my work. Make sure I didn't miss anything, Dani says, a frown furrowing her brow. This guy is sick, but he's also smart. Damn smart. I haven't been able to find one print, tape lift one hair, roll one fibre out of six different crime scenes.

A knowing look crosses Grissom's face. He knows forensics.

And has a working knowledge of human anatomy, Dani adds, setting the photo back on the desk.

What else do you need?

A locker to store my stuff and one for Brad too. I know he's not CSI, but he's been on this case a long time. He wants to get this guy as bad as I do.

Not a problem. Do you need a kit?

Brought my own, but thanks.

Well, anything you need, just ask and I'll make sure you get it, the scientist promises.

Shifting in her seat, Dani clears her throat. Look, I trust your work implicitly, but I'd like to see the scene here, for myself. I'd like to get a feel for it. Do you mind?

Grissom shakes his head. Not at all.

Can I take Nicky with me?

Absolutely. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you.

Suddenly Dani is overcome by the urge to yawn, but quickly tries to cover it. Sorry about that.

How about we start with some coffee? Grissom suggests, getting to his feet. I know Greg was planning to make a fresh pot a little while ago.

Spectacular idea, she replies, rising and picking up her things.

* * *


8:28 am

Greg, clad in a light blue lab coat, a well worn orange t-shirt and blue jeans, is adding cream to his large mug of coffee when Grissom and Dani enter the break room.

Hi Greg, Dani says casually, a playful smile lingering on her lips.

The spoon in the lab technician's hand drops to the counter and he whirls around to see where the familiar voice is coming from.

Dani! Holy sh-

Grissom's eyes widen and Dani bites back a laugh.

I mean, Hi!

Quickly closing the distance between them, Greg pulls Dani close for a hug that she returns with equal fervor. I can't believe it's you! he says excitedly after releasing her from his embrace. Man, how long has it been? Three years?

Too long. I can't believe your hair isn't blue anymore, Dani teases, ruffling his spikey bleach-blonde locks. She pauses to sniff the air. Do I get a cup of your Blue Hawaiian coffee or do I have to beg?

Of course you get one, Greg exclaims before hurrying over to the counter to pour a cup for her. I just made a fresh pot.

You knew about his stash of Blue Hawaiian coffee? Grissom asks incredulously.

I was sworn to secrecy, Dani reveals. I wasn't about to lose my caffeine supplier.

Perish the thought, Gil offers dryly. C'mon, lets go get you a couple of lockers.

We'll talk later, okay Grego? Dani asks as the lab technician hands her a mug of the aromatic brew.

You know where I am, he replies with a toothy grin.

* * *

8:44 am

It's got to be a rumor, Nick scoffs, his arms crossing over his chest, pulling his black t-shirt snug across the shoulders.

What makes you say that? Sara asks, looking up from the file folder in her hands.

Now? After all this time? he asks. I just don't know.

Why else would we be asked to stay after shift if not for this case? Sara replies.

The door to the layout room swings open and Grissom enters, followed closely by Dani and Brad. Each are carrying one of the file boxes Brad registered earlier with the Evidence Office.

That's twenty bucks you owe me Nicky, Catherine announces as she watches Nick's jaw drop in surprise.

I'm good for it, he replies, eyes wide.

Hey guys, long time no see, Dani says, doing her best to hide her nervousness as she sets her file box on the brightly under-lit table. A half empty cup of coffee is balanced on top of the box.

Catherine walks over to her and pulls her close for a hug. It's good to see you.

Nearly sighing with relief, Dani wraps her arms around the shorter woman. Right back at you. Releasing each other, Dani steps back. Did Lindsey get my present?

She was writing the thank-you card before dinner yesterday, Catherine replies with a smile. The postmark is how I knew you were in LA.

Hey, that's not fair! Nick objects. You had inside information!

Oh, poor Nicky lost a bet, Dani teases. Now c'mere and say hello.

Striding across the room, Nick wraps his arms around Dani's slender waist and sweeps her off the floor in a huge bear hug. Dani gasps in surprise, but doesn't fight him. When he finally puts her down, she playfully slaps at his arm.

I see someone's been hitting the gym, Dani remarks.

And you're still light as a feather, he replies with a grin.

Brad steps close to Dani and whispers, Are you okay?

I'm fine, she hisses. Turning to face the tall, dark-haired female standing beside Grissom, Dani steps forward and offers her hand. You must be Sara.

And you must be Dani Bennett, she replies coolly, shaking Dani's hand.

Right you are, Dani replies, equally as nonchalant. Everyone, this is Detective Brad Carmichael, from Washington, D.C.

Please, call me Brad. After setting his file box down on the table, he waves hello.

Brad, this is Catherine Willows, Nick Stokes and Sara Sidle.

Each CSI offers their hand in greeting as Dani introduces them.

Well, now that everyone has met, shall we get to work? Grissom asks.

A shrill ring has Brad digging in the pocket of his light grey dress pants. Quickly producing a small, silver cell phone, he looks at the caller ID and flips it open.

Hi Captain, he says, giving the person on the other end of the line his full attention. After a moment, he covers the mouthpiece and turns to Dani. I have to take this. You okay?

Dani nods. Go ahead, I'll get everyone up to speed.

Excuse me, Brad says apologetically. Stepping outside the layout room, he closes the door behind him.

So, I guess you're all wondering why I'm here, Dani begins, her hands cradling the coffee mug on the file box. Well, it turns out that a serial killer we've been trying to catch in D.C. and Los Angeles has just moved to Las Vegas.

You're sure it's your guy? Sara asks.

We've reviewed the particulars together, Grissom supplies. They're definitely linked.

Look, I'm not going to bullshit you. This psycho is smart and he's dangerous, Dani warns. I have no jurisdiction in asking for your help. You are not required to work this investigation in any way if you don't want to.

Don't you want our help? Nick asks, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Yes, I want and need your help, but I also want you to know what you're getting into, Dani explains. This isn't your average case.

What do you mean? Catherine asks.

Grissom told me that you were on the scene last night, Dani says to her. You saw the letter addressed to Strawberry?

Yeah, I did, but we don't know who that is yet.

I'll save you some leg work. Dani takes a deep breath. I'm Strawberry.

The Las Vegas CSI's say in unison. Catherine looks at Grissom, who slowly nods.

Setting her coffee cup on the table, Dani opens the file box in front of her and produces six typewritten letters, all encased in individual plastic evidence bags. She lays them out side by side and the rest of the group steps closer to take a look.

They started at the second murder scene, typed and printed out on the victim's computer. He made sure there's no way to track the paper or ink back to him.

No prints on the keyboard? Sara asks.

Only the victims.



As you can see by these letters, he knows a lot about me. I don't know why he focused on me, only that he did. It's possible he could do the same to one of you, Dani continues. I wanted you all to know what could happen.

Evidence found at the previous scenes? Catherine asks.

No prints, no hairs, no fibres.

He's good, Sara comments.

Sick too, Dani adds. Using a concoction of sodium amytal to keep them restrained, he tortures his victims for at least 3 days before raping and then suffocating them.

How many has he killed? Nick asks. That you're sure of.

Last night makes seven, Dani replies darkly. He has two more to go in Las Vegas before he moves on.

I'm in, Nick says firmly. All the way.

Me too, Catherine and Sara say in unison.

Moved by their willingness to put themselves in danger, Dani blinks back the moisture that has begun forming in her eyes. Thanks guys. I really do appreciate it.

Where do we start? Nick asks.

She looks over at Grissom, who gestures for her to continue.

Well, I'd like to see the crime scene. You up for it? Dani asks Nick.



Catherine, I'd like you and Grissom to go over everything from the previous cases. Teresa Rawlings, Danielle Mc Williams, Linda Hemming, Erica Dawson, Jessica Wilson and Barbara Campbell. Dani opens the other two file boxes as she recites the victims names. Maybe a fresh pair of eyes will give us something new to work with.

You got it.

What about me? Sara asks, feeling decidedly left out, but doing her best to cover it.

Dig into Melinda Greenwalt's life. Find out what you can about her, without talking to anyone, Dani specifies. Somehow he gets to know everything about these women before he hunts them down and kills them, but we haven't been able to find one witness who can say that anyone asked about any of them.

He could be using a computer, Sara surmises.

That's what I think. Prove me right or prove me wrong, Dani challenges. Find out what he knew about her.

Anything else?

There is a specific type of woman that he's looking for and I think he finds them through a computer. See if you can find women who fit the profile. Brad can help you and provide background information on the other victims.

I'm on it, Sara replies, picking up the current file and opening it.

Digging into the front pocket of her jeans, Dani produces several business cards and hands one to each of them. Here's my cell number and pager number. Brad's numbers are on the back. Call us if anything develops. We'll do the same.

Everyone nods.

Ready to go? Nick asks Dani, nudging her with his shoulder.

I need to stop in the locker room for a minute and at the car for my kit, Dani replies as the door opens behind them.

Sorry that took so long, Brad apologizes.

Dani opens her mouth to answer him when a familiar figure steps through the door behind her partner.

Sorry I'm late Gris, the D.A. wanted an up- Warrick freezes when his eyes lock with Dani's.

A long moment passes as no one says anything. From her position, Catherine can see both of their faces and watches with great interest.

Swallowing hard, Dani nods. Hi Warrick.

Her eyes drink all of him in, sending a shiver through her lean body. Memories flood her senses, overwhelming them as she struggles to control herself.

Uh, hi, he answers slowly, a whirlwind of emotions passing across his face in a matter of seconds. The final result is one of cool detachment.

I see I'm not the only one who was surprised, Nick jokes, lightly punching the taller CSI on the arm.

Yeah. Apparently.

We better go, Dani says to Nick as she walks past Warrick. Her breath catches in her throat as the faint scent that is uniquely his, washes over her.

Do you want backup? Brad asks, catching up to her and stepping so close that his fingers softly graze her bare arm.

No, we'll be fine, she replies. Can you get us checked into the hotel and whatnot?

Sure. Are you going to call Dwayne?

As soon as I've visited the scene, Dani promises.

Warrick watches the exchange between Dani and Brad, paying close attention to their body language.

Be careful, Brad warns.

I will.

Feeling Warrick's eyes on her, Dani cringes inwardly, but fights to maintain a cool exterior. Grateful to escape his steely glare, she follows Nick down the hall.

* * *


9:35 am



Thanks Nicky, Dani says gratefully as she finishes entering the last phone number of the CSI crew into her cell phone's memory and pushing her sunglasses up on the bridge of her nose. This will definitely save me some time.

Not a problem, he says as he signals to turn left onto a quieter side street.

After hooking her phone back on her black leather belt next to the pager, Dani zips up her police issue utility vest, her fingers smoothing out the nametag above the right chest pocket. A dark spot on the B refuses to come off; no matter how hard she tries. Finally she stops scrubbing and looks closer. It's dried blood.

So where have you been? Nick asks pointedly. I sent you an email about six months ago and it bounced back.

Dani groans. I'm sorry, Nick. I had to move in a hurry and I lost touch with almost everyone. Quickly twisting her long hair up into a tight bun, Dani pulls a brightly colored elastic cord out of a pocket on her vest and wraps it around the mass of auburn curls.

Because of the case?



Pulling his SUV to the curb, Nick cuts the engine and nods at a nearby house. That's the one. Unbuckling his seat belt, he exits the vehicle and zips up his black LVPD vest before slamming the door shut.

Stepping out into the heat, Dani fans her face for a moment, then opens the rear door to retrieve her kit. Holding the large plastic toolbox in her right hand, she nudges the door closed with her hip and begins cautiously walking up the driveway towards the one level house, Nick at her side.

Nice place, quiet street, she remarks.

With people so wrapped up in their own lives that no one noticed a woman being held hostage for days, Nick adds dryly as they arrive at the entrance.

While Nick cuts through the fluorescent orange crime scene sticker on the front door with a pocketknife, Dani takes the Smith & Wesson 9 mm automatic handgun out of its holster at her hip and holds it snugly against her thigh. Her index finger rests on the safety switch, ready to react at a moments notice.

Are you okay? Nick asks when he turns to put his knife away and spots Dani's gun. You seem kinda nervous.

Just being cautious, she replies coolly.

After Nick opens the door and enters, Dani follows, setting her kit down just inside the front door and locking the dead bolt behind her. Looking around, she pushes her sunglasses off her face to rest on the top of her head.

Because signature killers revisit their crimes scenes? Nick prompts, drawing his gun as well.



Is that why you're wearing a metal shield under your vest? Nick asks, nodding to the bulletproof plate strapped snugly to her chest beneath the black utility vest. You've got to be roasting in that.

Dani shrugs noncommittally. I promised my boss.

Wordlessly, the pair sweep the small house, ensuring that they are in fact, alone. Only then does Dani release the breath she's been holding and put her gun back in it's holster. Walking back to the front door, Nick does the same.

You're more intense than you used to be, he remarks casually as he pulls on a pair of latex gloves.

Only when I'm clearing crime scenes, Dani answers with a smile. Opening her kit, she pulls out a pair of clear, vinyl gloves and slips them on.

I almost forgot you're allergic to latex.

That's why I wear this, she says, pointing to the small, silver Medic Alert bracelet on her left wrist. Don't leave home without it.

A slow grin forms on Nick's face. You know, I always wondered about you and latex and, well-

Dani raises her eyebrows in surprise. she supplies with mock innocence. Are you asking about the status of my virtue, Nicky?

Blushing furiously, Nick ducks his head. Never mind, he mutters.

No, I want to know, she presses, smirking a little as she watches him squirm. Are you asking if I found out I was allergic to latex when I had sex for the first time?

I'm sorry, it's really none of my business.

Dani laughs. True, but if you want to know, I'll tell you. It's not that interesting.

What do you mean? Nick asks, raising an eyebrow.

It was my first day on the job at the LA County Morgue. One minute I was working with a coroner on a little old lady, the next I was on a gurney with an IV in my arm. Mild anaphylaxis. That's it.

That's it? he repeats incredulously.

Dani shrugs nonchalantly. I was back at work the next day, with vinyl gloves of course. Turns out there was a coroner with the same allergy. He recognized the symptoms right away.

That was lucky.

And lacking in sexual innuendo, Dani finishes with a grin.

You enjoyed that didn't you? Nick jokingly accuses.

Oh come on, like you wouldn't have done the same thing to me given the opportunity, Dani fires back.



Okay, so what do you say we catch a killer? she asks, pulling out a small flashlight and some cotton swabs from her kit.

Lead the way.

No forced entry. She let him in, Dani says, studying the front door. Fits with the profile.

She knew him?



Brass said there was no boyfriend in the picture.

Dani shrugs. I know lots of guys that I'm not involved with romantically. If they knocked on my door, I'd open it.

Fair enough.

But we know that he was in LA until recently. He could have posed as a deliveryman. FedEx. UPS. Something benign. Turning on her heel, Dani paces the length of the room. Hell, he could have delivered some Chinese food.

He was looking for a way in and found it.



Walking into the bedroom, Dani stares at the stripped mattress for a long moment. Finally she walks to the edge of the bed and kneels down, placing her gloved hands on the surface.

I'm sorry, she whispers. I'm so sorry that he chose you.

Squaring her shoulders, Dani rises and gets to work. Nearly an hour and a half passes with no conversation, Nick hanging back as he observes Dani review the scene. Thin-rimmed glasses cover her face, enlarging her expressive eyes as she slowly walks every inch of the small house, taking dozens of digital photos and swabbing several areas, including the walls above the bathtub. Finally she emerges in the living room where Nick is flipping through some junk mail left in a basket next to the phone.

he asks. Find anything?

Shrugging noncommittally, Dani quickly packs up her evidence kit and removes her glasses.

Can I ask you a personal question? Nick asks suddenly, his head tilted to one side as he studies her.

I can't promise an answer, but go ahead.

How come we were never more than friends? The words spill out of Nick's mouth before he can lose his nerve.

Dani finishes closing up her evidence kit and stands up, her eyes meeting his. She purses her lips and takes a moment to find the right words. Well Nicky, I guess the best way to explain it, is that I gave my heart away a long time ago and I still don't have it back. Ducking her head, Dani blinks rapidly to compose herself. I don't know if this helps, but you mean a lot to me and I'm really glad we're friends.

Me too, Nick replies, nodding slowly, surprised at the emotion Dani has just displayed.

Let's go.

* * *


11:24 am

So how's Vegas? a chipper voice asks as Dani tucks her cell phone between her ear and her shoulder.

Hotter than the surface of the sun, thank you very much, she retorts. But you already knew that.

Well, my trusty computer tells me that the current temperature is 105 and expected to hit 129 by the afternoon, the male voice continues.



Okay, seriously. How are you doing? he asks with genuine concern.

I'm fine, Dwayne. Just a little tired. Reaching across the dashboard, Dani turns up the air conditioning to MAX as Nick takes the onramp to I-15. The flight out was pretty early this morning and The Golden Boy doesn't travel too well.

Dwayne snorts at Dani's description of her detective partner. Do me a favor, Dani. Try and lay off the coffee long enough to grab a nap this afternoon, okay? the CSI supervisor requests gently.

I'll try.

So, what's it like to be back with your old crew again? Dwayne asks carefully.

Dani purses her lips for a moment. she decides.

Dwayne's laughter floats over the airwaves. Is that good or bad?

I'll let you know.

Any problems at the station?

Dani shakes her head. No. Grissom has been great. I've got all the support I need.

The relief is evident in his tone. Have you been to the scene?

On our way back to the lab now.

Find anything new? Dwayne asks hopefully.

No, just a swab from the tub. Going to have Greg run a comparison against the others.

Triple checking as always.

Dani smiles softly. You know me.

Fax me a report when you can, okay?

Home or office?

Either one is fine. I just want to know how you're doing.

Dani rolls her eyes and looks over at Nick, who is doing his best not to appear to be eavesdropping. I'm fine.

Yeah right. Where have I heard that before? Dwayne retorts. I remember sitting on that flight to LA, not knowing what the hell had gone wrong.

I know, she says quietly.

Softening his tone, Dwayne continues. I was more scared than I thought possible, wondering if you were going to be alive when I got there.

Awkwardly, Dani shifts in her seat and clears her throat. I have to go.

Call me if anything happens, Dwayne says, allowing the subject to drop for the moment. And be careful.

You got it.

Closing the small cell phone with a flick of her wrist, Dani slips it back into its holder on her belt.

Your boss? Nick asks.

Reaching under her seatbelt, Dani unzips her vest and then pulls her ID out of the back pocket of her jeans. Looping the metal chain over her head and under her collar, she settles the black leather rectangle against her chest.

Sounds like you two are pretty tight.

Dani replies carefully. But not in that kind of way.



Barely suppressing her laughter, Dani explains. Dwayne is 54, has been happily married to his high school sweetheart, Jenny, for the last 32 years and is the father of four beautiful girls. The oldest is Abby, then there are the twins, Katie and Lily and finally the baby, Barbara.



So no, not in that kind of way.

You know what? I'm going to shut up now because I'm getting tired of putting my foot in my mouth, Nick decides with a firm nod.

Dani laughs. Oh Nicky, I've missed you.

* * *


12:03 pm

Why are there two sets of swabs for the bathtubs? Catherine asks, holding up several sealed plastic evidence bags and peering at the contents. These aren't blood.

Call Dani and ask her if you want, Grissom suggests as he examines and compares crime scene photos.

Ask me what? Dani inquires as she and Nick enter the layout room.

You're back, Catherine says, glancing at her watch.

Traffic was light, Nick supplies.

Dani looks down at several plastic evidence bags clutched in hand. I have to get these to the lab.

I'll do it, Nick offers. Looks like they could use you here.



With a wave, Nick leaves.

Grissom raises an eyebrow. More evidence?

Just a couple of swabs from the bathtub, Dani replies.

Catherine asks, one eyebrow raised as she consults the evidence sheets in front of her. We swabbed the drain and found blood. We figured he made them shower before he killed them.

He wipes down the bathtub and the walls around it with some kind of liquid. A combination of window cleaner and a strawberry scented body oil. It's how we were sure that the first murder was connected to the others, Dani explains. Besides the claim in the letters, of course.

Why didn't you tell us about this? Grissom asks.

I'm sorry, Dani says sincerely. It slipped my mind and I just want to be absolutely sure that it's the same guy.

Catherine opens her mouth to speak, but the steady, insistent sound of a beeper stops her. In unison, the three look at their pagers and the noise stops.

It's mine, Grissom says then looks at Dani. Doc is looking for you.

she repeats, a smile spreading across her face. He knows I'm here?

I told him.

What does he want?

He's done with the body. Wants to know if you're around.

Dani grins. On my way. She hurries to the door, then stops and turns around. If you need any questions answered . . .

We know where to find you, Catherine supplies with a smile.

Almost running out the door, Dani removes her black vest and ducks into the locker room to put it away.

It slipped her mind? That's . . . odd, Catherine remarks.

Grissom replies, nibbling on the arm of his glasses. It is.

* * *


12:06 pm

All of the women seem to be solitary individuals, Brad says, flipping through the file of the most recent case. Melinda Greenwalt is no exception.

That seems to be the case here, Sara agrees. The only purchases on Melinda's credit cards were take-out from a pizza place, occasionally chinese food and habitual video rentals. Her car had pretty low miles on it, considering the age of it.

Maybe he finds a group of women that fit his profile and then decide which one from there is the easiest target, Brad suggests.

It's a place to start, Sara decides. She looks towards the door just as Warrick strides by. Noticing the frosty look in his eyes, she cocks an eyebrow.

the detective asks, following her gaze.

Someone's in a bad mood today, she mutters. Glad I'm not working with him.

Stretching his arms over his head, Brad stifles a yawn. I need some coffee.

Break room is down the hall on the right, she instructs, pointing in the same direction that Warrick went.

You want anything?

Sara shakes her head. Grissom has an experiment in the fridge. I'm not eating or drinking anything from that place.

Brad pales. An experiment?

Don't ask. I'm sure the coffee is safe.

Brad doesn't look entirely convinced, but exhaustion forces him to go in search of caffeine. He finds the break room without any trouble, but he's not alone. Warrick is standing in front of the coffee machine, pouring himself a large cup and looking about as friendly as an electrified barbed wire fence.

the detective says. We didn't get to meet earlier. I'm Brad Carmichael.

The CSI nods curtly. Warrick Brown.

Before Brad can say another word, Warrick turns on his heel and leaves.

Was it something I said? Brad asks the empty room.

* * *


12:08 pm

Pushing open the double doors to the Morgue, Dani looks around. Spotting an older man sitting at a nearby desk, she smiles.

Hey Doc! she calls out.

Quickly looking up from his file folder, Doc Robbins returns her smile.

Dani! Come here. He rises as she draws near and envelops her in a warm hug. It's good to see you.

You too. How are the kids?

Enjoying summer vacation, he replies wryly, removing the glasses perched on the end of his nose.

Dani laughs. Counting the days until school starts already?



Glancing over at a sheet covered body on an examining table, Dani says, So I hear you're finished with my girl.

Together they walk over to the body, Dani pulling on a crisp blue surgical gown as they move, Doc, a pair latex gloves.

Robbins reports. And as you suspected, nothing new to see.

He pulls back the white sheet to reveal the victims face as Dani pulls a pair of vinyl gloves out from her back pocket and slips them on.

Meet Melinda Greenwalt. Age 29. 5'8, 142 pounds.

Shaking her head, Dani crosses her arms over her chest and listens.

You were right about suffocation being the cause of death. Petechial hemorrhaging in the eyes, he says, opening the right eyelid to show the broken blood vessels and the bruising to the surrounding tissue. Classic signs of cyanosis. Blue face, lips and fingers.

Folding back the side of the sheet to reveal the left arm, Dani examines the slender hand. Did you scrape under her nails?

Robbins nods. Tried, but there was nothing there. She'd been cleaned very well.



No ligature of the neck, but as you can see, some bruising at the wrists. I'd say she was restrained somehow. I didn't find any fibres. One stab wound to the torso, but not fatal.

Rape kit? Dani asks, her back stiff with tension.

Evidence of an indeterminate object rape, and of course the mutilation to her back, inflicted 36 to 48 hours before her death, the medical examiner finishes.

Tox screen?

Traces of sodium amytal, as you expected.

He made a hell of a mess, didn't he? she asks rhetorically.

Pulling the sheet back into it's original place, Robbins removes his gloves and drops them in a small metal trash can. Grissom says you've been tracking this guy for a while.

Dani rolls her eyes. Yeah, for all the good it's done. Suddenly she pauses and turns back towards the body. Did you cast the stab wound yet?

Robbins shakes his head. Warrick was going to, but Grissom figured you'd want to do it yourself. Says you're very hands on with this case.

Dani's stomach involuntarily tightens at the mention of Warrick's name. He figured right, she manages to say, silently willing her body to relax.

Warrick left everything over there, the doctor says, gesturing to some packages, a bowl and a large plastic syringe sitting on the countertop a short distance away.



I'd love to stay and visit with you, but it's been a very long night, Robbins says, stifling a yawn.

Oh, absolutely, Dani exclaims. You've been here all night. Get out of here and get some sleep. I'm going to be in Las Vegas for at least a few days so we can catch up another time. Maybe I'll volunteer with you one night.

I'd like that. I've missed seeing your pretty face.

Dani blushes. You're very sweet, Doc. Your wife is a very lucky woman.

No, I'm the lucky one, Robbins corrects as he pulls off his blood-streaked blue gown and tosses it in the medical hazard bin for laundering. I think David is around here somewhere, but I told him you'd probably be in here at some point so you won't have any trouble.

David? Does he ever go home?

My thoughts exactly.

Picking up his things, Doc waves goodbye as Dani sets up a tray next to the body to cast the wound. Waving in return, she then leans over and focuses on the job at hand.

* * *


12:47 pm

The layout room is quiet, as Grissom and Catherine have gone home for some much needed sleep. Sitting on a tall metal stool, Dani pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she reviews the numerous plastic envelopes and paper bags containing evidence and Melinda's personal affects. Picking up a brown paper bag, she unrolls the top removes a small black leather purse with gloved hands. Opening the compact wallet inside, Dani examines it's entire contents before removing three credit card receipts. Upon reviewing them closely, her eyes widen as an idea forms in her mind.



Sliding off her seat, she hurries down the hall in search of the comedic lab technician. Arriving at the DNA lab, she runs into a sandy haired man she doesn't recognize. His ID tag informs her that his name is Larry.

Have you seen Greg? she asks, looking around.

He went home a few hours ago, Larry replies. Something I can help you with?

No, but thanks.

Shrugging, Larry turns back to his microscope. No problem.

Actually, do you know his phone number?

No idea. I work the day shift and I've only been here a few months.



he offers apologetically.

Dani smiles. Not your fault. Thanks anyways.

She turns to leave, but then Larry speaks again. You know . . .

she asks, returning to her original position.

There is a confidential phone list in that drawer over there. It would be faster than going through Human Resources. He grins shyly as Dani's eyes light up.

Thank you! Hurrying over to the desk, she quickly locates Greg's number and punches it into her cell phone. I owe you one Larry, she says as she walks out of the lab and back down to the layout room.

The phone rings several times before Greg's sleepy voice comes on the line.

This better be good, he growls.

Greg? Hey sweetie, it's Dani.

Greg says, ever so slightly more alert.

I'm sorry to wake you up.

What's going on?

Dani nibbles on her lower lip for a moment. I need a favor.

he says, then stifles a yawn.

Are you still friends with the doorman at The Utopian?

Yeah, why?

I need to get in there. Tonight.

You woke me up to tell me you want to go dancing? There is more than a touch of annoyance and disbelief in Greg's tone now.

No, this is all business, Dani clarifies. I just really need to get in there tonight without Brad or anyone else flashing a badge.

Oh, okay.

Can we meet there around 9:30 tonight? Dani requests.

I'll be there.

Thanks Greg, I owe you. Big.

Oh, I'll collect, have no fear.

Go back to sleep, sweetie.

Don't worry, I will.

Hanging up the phone, Dani smiles, then sits back down at the layout table and resumes going through Melinda's things.

* * *


5:37 pm

The heels of Catherine's black boots emit a steady, rhythmic sound as she strides down the hall towards the layout room. At the doorway she pauses, smiling gently when she spots Dani hunched over the table, head resting on the heel of her hand, fast asleep.

Still a workaholic I see, Catherine muses softly.

Walking around the table until she is next to Dani, Catherine places her hand on the younger woman's shoulder. She leans in to whisper in Dani's ear, but has to jump clear when Dani awakens and leaps to her feet, hands going for the gun strapped to her hip.

Catherine cries out, hands raised. It's just me.

Jesus Christ! Dani, chokes out, her heart pounding so hard against her ribcage that it feels like it could burst right out her chest. You scared the shit out of me.



Forcing herself to relax, Dani sits back down on the tall metal stool and removes her glasses. Rubbing her hands over her face, she sighs. I was having this awful nightmare, she says.

I'm sorry to wake you up, Catherine apologizes. I just wanted to see how you were doing and if you wanted to grab some dinner.

Dani repeats. What time is it? She reaches for her discarded watch on the layout table. she curses. It's almost six!

What have you eaten today? Catherine asks pointedly, in full Mom-mode.

Um, coffee? is the sheepish reply.

That's it. We're going to dinner.

I've got too much-

You need to eat, Catherine interrupts, folding her arms across her chest.

I can't-

No excuses.

Dani finally concedes.

I'll help you pack up and get this evidence into lock up.

Less than fifteen minutes later they are in the parking lot, on their way to Catherine's navy blue SUV.

* * *


9:14 pm

Waiting in the safety of the darkness of night, Warrick watches a section of windows on the third floor of the hotel, wondering which one belongs to her. Summoning his resolve, Warrick opens the door of his SUV and begins to step out onto the street when Dani and Brad exit the rear entrance of the hotel.

I don't remember asking for your permission, Dani spits out, obviously irritated at the man at her side.

Retreating back into his vehicle, Warrick shuts the door and watches the pair walk across the parking lot to their rental car.

Explain to me why you have to go out, dressed like that!

Dani puts her hands on her hips as Brad's hand gestures wildly at her provocative attire. A snug fitting shimmery black top, laced up the sides and a pair of hip hugging levi's cover her body while her face and hair have been painted and teased to perfection. In a word, she looks dangerous.

Because when you're going fishing, you need the right bait, she retorts sharply.

You know it's not safe, Brad protests. Are you carrying at least, incase something happens?

That's why they invented the ankle harness, Detective. To illustrate her point, Dani pulls her pant leg up, revealing a small revolver strapped to her left ankle.

I don't like this, the detective objects as they resume walking.

Then go sit in your room and wait, Dani suggests. I'll be back in a couple of hours.

No. I'm not giving this guy an opportunity again. Anger flashes in Brad's eyes. I'm not going to leave you out there alone.

Then lets go. We're going to be late.

Without another word, they climb into the car and leave. Having overheard the entire conversation, Warrick decides to follow them at a safe distance.

* * *


9:37 pm

Strobe lights pulse from all over the club, in time to the heavy bass music pouring out from the large speakers positioned around the large space. Spotlights in a variety of yellows, pinks and blues light up the walls. The air-conditioning is blowing full blast, but can't compete with the raging temperatures outside and heated bodies pouring in. Half a dozen dance platforms are scattered throughout the room, all occupied by beautiful women moving rhythmically to the music.

Pushing through the sea of bodies, Dani and Greg make their way to the polished white, oval shaped bar. Brad is right behind them, looking very out of place and uncomfortable in his shirt and tie. Wasting no time, Dani gets the bartenders attention with a flirty smile and leans in close to talk. A tightly folded fifty dollar bill is slipped into his hand as he nods to her request. He glances at his watch and then leans closer to say something back to her. Blowing a kiss, she steps back and turns to face her male companions.

Ten, maybe fifteen minutes, she says over the music.

Brad rolls his eyes and loosens his tie. What do we do while we wait?

Grinning, Greg points to the dance floor, crowed with over a hundred gyrating bodies. What else? Dance.

I don't dance, Brad replies flatly.

Well, Greg? Dani asks, giving him a wink. Shall we?

The lab technician's eyes light up. Taking Dani's hand, he leads the way onto the kidney shaped dance floor. Hanging back in the shadows by the wall, Warrick watches the two make their way through the crowd and down the few steps to the dance floor. Wanting a better view, he turns left and walks upstairs to the second level.

The dance floor is even more packed than at the bar, sweat-slicked bodies bumping and grinding against one another. A cheer goes up as a new song with a faster beat begins. Recognizing the tune, Dani grins and begins to dance, copying Greg's moves and vice versa. A faint mist of smoke hangs in the air, occasionally being added to by a machine mounted to the ceiling. The energy in the room grows more intense, the sea of bodies moving in frenzied unison.

Having found a seat at a green and blue booth near the bar, Brad watches Dani intently, eyes sweeping over the room at regular intervals. Meanwhile, Warrick stands near the railing on the second level, his jaw clenching when he sees a variety of males getting up close and personal with Dani. Their hands and bodies brush against her, just enough to get her attention. Not interested. she brushes them off, concentrating on Greg and the music. Enjoying every moment, the lab technician is dancing wildly, a grin plastered across his face. At the same time, he's careful not to cross the line and invade Dani's space. A fact of which doesn't go unnoticed by Warrick, whose temper is quickly rising at the idea of drunken, over-sexed, testosterone-ridden males touching her.

Despite outward appearances, Dani is very much aware of the people around her. Her eyes never stop scanning the room, looking for someone whose gaze lingers a moment too long or is too intense. She glances upstairs and her eyes flash wide when she spots a familiar figure. Warrick. Shaking her head, she looks again, but the figure has vanished. Deciding she must have imagined it, she continues dancing and scanning.

When the song ends, Dani and Greg begin making their way over to where Brad is waiting, but a waitress stops Dani to talk and points towards a stairwell leading to the second level. Nodding, she waves to Brad and disappears upstairs.

Making her way past a maze of fluorescent pink booths and chairs, Dani is escorted through an unmarked door and into a private lounge. Warrick watches her from a distance, not sure what she is doing or why.

All of the walls are covered in rich, dark leather paneling, illuminated from above with carefully positioned spot lights. There are several people seated in futuristic chairs at the polished, chrome bar, talking in hushed tones as they sip their drinks and watch the massive exotic fish tank behind the bar.

Dani takes a seat away from the others and orders a bottle of water. Nodding, the blonde female bartender brings her a chilled plastic bottle and a bendy straw. Breaking the seal on the slim bottle, Dani takes a long sip and tries to settle her nerves.

A few minutes later, a bulky man of nearly seven feet taps her on the shoulder.

Mr. Nolasco can see you now.

Nodding, she finishes the last of her bottled water and rises to follow him into a back room. A lone man in a dapper suit with jet black hair sits in a polished, black leather armchair, a highball glass half filled with amber liquid cradled in his left hand. He rises when Dani enters and offers his hand as he introduces himself.

Victor Nolasco. His tone is smooth. Confident. You wanted to speak to me personally?

Chandani Bennett, Dani replies, pulling her badge out of her back pocket. I'm a crime scene investigator working with the Las Vegas police department.

A cop. Annoyed, Victor shakes his head.

No, not a cop. A scientist.

You're the first hot scientist I've ever seen, he remarks, his eyes roving over her body.

Dani flips her hair off her left shoulder and smiles. You need to get out more.

So why are you talking to me? Victor asks cooly, sitting back down in his armchair. No crime has been committed here. He gestures for Dani to take the seat opposite him. She sits.

You're not known for cooperating with local authorities, but I need your help, Dani explains.



A woman was discovered in her home last night. Leaning forward, Dani shows him an autopsy photo of Melinda's face. She'd been murdered.

Victor raises an eyebrow. And that has to do with me because?

Dani then produces a photocopy of a receipt. I found this credit card receipt in her wallet. She was here last week. It looks like it was the last time anyone saw her alive.

And you want me to do what?

Give me access to the security system, specifically, the video tapes of the entrance.

What day was she here? he asks.

Dani points to a section on the piece of paper. Monday, the seventh.

Can't help you, Victor says mildly, leaning back in his chair.

Look. I did this the nice way. Dani's eyes are flat and cold, as is her tone as she leans back and crosses her arms over her chest. I can come back with a warrant and shut you down if that's what it takes, she promises icily.

It won't do you any good. Tapes are recycled every seven days.

Defeated, Dani's gaze drops to the floor.

I'm sorry.

Dani rises and offers her hand to Victor. Thanks for your time.

I hope you'll come back and visit again. You looked good out there, he replies, holding her hand firmly as he maintains eye contact.

You never know. Giving him a mysterious smile, Dani steps back and then leaves without a backward glance.

At the base of the stairs she meets up with Brad and Greg. A brief conversation ensues over the music, then Dani gives Greg a chaste kiss on the cheek before she and Brad leave. Warrick follows a minute later.

* * *


10:31 pm

After hanging the Do Not Disturb' tag on the doorknob, Dani enters her hotel room and closes the door behind her. She pulls the .38 revolver from her ankle and flips the dead bolt. Silently, she sweeps the small seating area, the bedroom and finally, the bathroom. Finally satisfied that she's alone, Dani walks over to her suitcase sitting on the bed and opens it, removing a roll of duct tape. After lining the windows with the grey adhesive, she meticulously secures the door; one strip of duct tape across the top and two down the side, opposite the hinges. No one is coming into her room without her knowledge.

Removing off her boots and ankle holster, Dani walks into the bathroom and turns on the water in the bathtub, taking a moment to adjust the temperature. Laying her gun on the edge of the tub, she strips the clothes off her sweaty body in record speed and steps under the hot spray.

Twenty minutes later she emerges from the steamy room, a towel wrapped snugly around her body and damp hair flowing past her shoulders. The revolver is held loosely in her left hand. Now free of make-up, her face is pale and haunted. Vulnerable. She tosses her club clothes on the bed and removes an oversize t-shirt and a pair of underwear from her suit case. Setting the gun on the bed, she pulls the shirt on over her head and lets the towel drop before sliding on the black bikini briefs. Scooping up the discarded cloth, she hangs it over the back of a chair next to the bed and picks up the gun.

Unzipping her laptop case, she sets up on a small table near the window, the gun less than two feet away. The curtains are already drawn, blocking out the neon glitter of The Strip in the distance as well as unwelcome prying eyes. With practiced ease, she attaches various cables while the laptop boots up. Taking a seat, Dani slips on her glasses and hooks up her digital camera. Opening a new file, she gets to work.

* * *


11:57 pm

Stifling a yawn, Dani finishes creating the digital layout of the crime scene from the pictures she's downloaded into her laptop. After closing the music program and layout files, she removes her glasses and leans back in the chair, arching her back. Rubbing her hands over her face, she runs her fingers through her now dry tresses and stands up from the small table where she's been working.

Walking into the bathroom, she opens two prescription bottles and taps out one pill from each. She places them on her tongue, then fills a glass with water to wash them down. Rolling her shoulders forward, then back, she leans towards the mirror, taking a long, hard look at herself. Almost immediately her eyes fill with tears, but she brushes them away and turns off the bathroom light.

Deciding to focus on something else, Dani opens the closet doors and hangs up an assortment of blouses and dress pants from her garment bag. Blue jeans, t-shirts, socks and under things go in the drawers underneath the television. Dirty laundry is piled on the floor in the corner. Lastly, she places a small snow globe of Las Vegas on the night stand and a small, stuffed dog on the bed.

Exhausted beyond words, she crawls under the covers, switches off the lights and falls asleep, the stuffed dog clutched tightly in her arms.

* * *