CSI: Lonely Soldier Boy

An original Fan Fiction based on TV series "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation" and it's characters. CSI and it's characters are owned by CBS Television and Alliance Atlantis. Produced by Jerry Bruckheimer

This is primarily a Nick/Sara fic.

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

Lonely Soldier Boy

–1–

It was a rainy night in Las Vegas. Nick Stokes and Sara Sidle pulled their Chevy Tahoe into the parking lot of Lucky 13 Motel. Nick had let Sara drive, he had figured it wasn't worth an irritable partner this early in the shift, besides it was going to be a long night.

Detective Jim Brass stood in the rain waiting for the two CSIs. "Hey Brass, anybody ever tell you you're all wet" Nick asked? Brass gave a scowl as the CSIs unloaded their equipment under the shelter of the hotels second floor walkway.

He spoke as the CSI's followed him upstairs. "You're still wet behind the ears, Stokes. We got a nice dead body up here for you, a real challenge. Luckily, ID isn't a mystery."

Sara perked up. "Really?"

Brass arched his bushy eyebrows, "Yeah, we got lucky on this one. Got an ID card." He led them into room 227.

Nick took it all in. Off to his right, there was a single queen size bed. On the wall just to his left, was the action. The body of what looked like a healthy, 20 something male lay at his feet, on its side. A blood trail led down the wall, where a cheap looking particle board dresser sat. A TV sat on top, along with a wallet, keys, and a large drink from a local convenience store.

Nick spoke up. "Man this is one clean crime scene, please tell me the maids haven't been here!"

Brass sounded annoyed when he answered. "Hey, don't look at me. I haven't dressed as a french maid since last Halloween. Besides, owner showed me the maids time sheet, nobody has touched this place."

Sara chuckled at the thought of big bad Brass in black lace costume. "Well Jim, Nick's right, it is pretty clean. Looks like some blood spatter on the bottom of the dresser though." She made her way around the body and the obvious blood trail, and knelt at the foot of the dresser. She turned on her mini-mag flashlight and examined the reddish brown, circular stain on the dresser. "Weird spot for blood. Who's our vic, Brass?"

"Private Jeremy Lampley, US Army. We found his military ID, among other things in his wallet. He's from out of town, Montana."

Nick asked, "any cash?"

"Yeah, about 250 dollars worth. Two credit cards also. He used one of them to reserve this room for tonight and tomorrow night."

"Did he register alone?"

"Funny you should ask Nick, he sure did."

"Figures."

"Aw come on, you up to a challenge tonight?"

"Boys," Sara said annoyingly. "We have a scene here, you can play Alpha Male later."

Both Nick and Brass chuckled as Nick pulled out his camera. "I'll get some photos."

–2–

A couple hours later, Nick and Sara paused to ponder what they had learned about the scene. David, the assistant Coroner, had been by and collected the body. After they picked him up, it was a bloody mess. Still, no stab wounds or gunshots. David had guessed blunt force trauma as cause of death, due to extensive facial injury.

"I'll tell you what, Nick," Sara said, "I don't even know if we have a crime here. Look at the blood pool next to the bed." The CSIs walked over and peered at the dried puddle on the ground, between the bed and the window. "Here's my guess. Guy got a bloody nose, got up, went to the bathroom and cleaned up. After that he came over to the dresser, maybe to get a drink out of his cup there, and fainted. Then he fell forward, hitting his face on the dresser. Then he tried to crawl over to the door to call for help, he just never made it."

"Ha, being in this hotel room alone with me must be getting to you there Sara. That little scenario doesn't account for the blood spatter on the bottom face of the dresser."

Sara wrinkled her nose. "Maybe it was spatter caused by his head hitting the floor?"

"Man Sara, you can do better than that."

"Okay big shot, what's your theory?"

"I'm like Griss, I don't have theories."

"Cop out."

"Alright, I think somebody busted the guy in the chops."

"Who? Who got the drop on our big, burly, army guy?"

"I don't know, blood in the bathroom sink, blood by the bed, blood leading from the dresser to the door. Maybe it's not all his."

"Yeah, who's reaching now? Let's go back to the lab and see what Greggo has to say." With that, Sara led the way out to the Tahoe.

–3–

A little while later, Nick and Sara found themselves back at the crime lab, gathered around a table in the layout room. On the table were the victims clothes, the cup from the store, his wallet and effects, and a bad containing the contents of his trash can. "Hmm...where to start?" Nick asked aloud.

"How about the clothes?" Sara said. As she did, she spread them out across the table. A red University of Montana T-Shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of boxer shorts. "Well, the shirt is really bloody, but mainly on the front. No holes or rips of any kind. Looks like it was almost brand new.

Nick leaned over the table and peered at the boxers. "I bet maybe we have a semen stain here. I'll swab it."

"Yay," Sara said, "maybe there's a female donor as well?"

"We'll find out." Nick took a swab of the stained area, and packaged it. "Not a lot of blood on the jeans. This guys blood stayed up top. What else do we have?"

Sara reached over and grabbed the drink cup. Nick almost couldn't help but stare at his partner sometimes. Sure, he and Sara had their ups and downs over the last 4 years, but Nick always found something intriguing about her. Sure, she wasn't as a classic a beauty as Catherine Willows, and she had a reputation for being more than a bit irritable at times, but weren't they all? As far as Catherine was concerned, Nick liked her a lot, but there was something different about Sara.

"Hey, day-dreamer," Sara barked at him. "Do I have coffee stains on my shirt or something?"

"Oh, uh...sorry," Nick stammered, "I was just thinking." "I wonder which 24/7 store he got that drink from. There's several within walking distance of his motel."

"Well, the cup was still wet when we got there, and had left a ring on the dresser. He probably hadn't had the drink for very long."

"Right, Sara. Plus, it was still like half full too."

"So you're thinking we can round up a clerk who recognized him."

"Exactly."

"Alright Nick, why don't you run that swab to Greggo, and I'll call Brass and fill him in?"

"Alright, sounds good." As Nick left, he couldn't help but look back over his shoulder at Sara. She was talking on her cell, and shot Nick a smile as he exited.

–4–

Nick sat in the DNA lab, waiting for Greg Sanders to finish his work. The quirky, rock music loving DNA tech was one of the best in the business, so Nick didn't mind the wait. Currently, he was flipping through one of Greg's issues of "Sand and Surf" magazine. He remembered scolding Greg for reading this mag one time. How far were they from the nearest beach?

"I love the army," Sanders said. "They have everybody in their system!" They probably have the pope in their database."

"Talk to me, Greg." Nick put the magazine aside.

"Well, DNA confirms your ID. Private Jeremy Lampley, US Army."

"Yeah, we knew that. Help me out here. Was the blood all his?"

"Affirmative, general. All blood swabs that you gave me belong to him. No other DNA present."

"What about the last swab, from the boxers?"

"Definitely semen, definitely his." No other contributions, vaginal or otherwise. Seems the private couldn't find a date."

"Aw come on Greg, this is Vegas! Even YOU can find a date."

"Yes Mr. Stokes, I can. Now, not that I'm counting, but I've had four dates since your last one. Unless you count breakfast with Sara, which I doubt you do."

Nick paused and wondered. Should he count that? "Is that all you got Greg?"

"No, as usual, I'm going to break your case for you." As he said that, he handed Nick a final report. "I swabbed the rim of the cup you sent me. Wanted to make sure it was his."

"And it wasn't?"

"Well, it wasn't all his. I found his DNA, but I also found some of the XX variety. Running it through CODIS as we speak."

"Nice job Greg."

"I have some news too." Nick and Greg whirled to find Sara entering the DNA lab. "I checked out his trash. Dirty job, but somebody's gotta do it. I have an unopened box of condoms and a beer can."

"Beer can huh?" Greg asked.

"I got some prints, and ran them through AFIS, but they all came back to the vic."

"Well that's ok Sara, maybe Greg can get a DNA hit for us."

"Yeah I heard that coming in. Unopened box of condoms. Maybe he had a hooker with him, and her pimp had other ideas or something. I mean, 250 bucks left in the wallet. They didn't rob him."

Just as Sara finished, her phone rang. Nick watched her lips move as she answered it. When she hung up, she flashed her familiar gap-toothed smile. "Let us know about CODIS, Greg. Nick and I have to go see Brass."

–5–

Nick pulled the CSI Tahoe up in front of a "24/7" store about a block south of the Lucky 13 motel. They recognized Jim Brass's unmarked car already there. Nick and Sara ambled in the front door, and saw Brass talking to a clerk. "Nick Stokes, Sara Sidle, this is Marty. Marty works swing shift here."

"Hey Marty, we're with the Crime Lab, what have you got for us.?"

The timid, rail thin clerk paused a moment before he answered. "Well, the detective here brought in a photo for all of us to look at. I was pulling a double shift cuz my friend Charlie is sick. Anyway, I recognize the guy in the photo."

Nick looked over at Brass, "The vic?"

Brass nodded.

Sara spoke up. "That's great Marty. Tell us what you know about him."

"Well, I'd never seen him before last night. He came in about midnight. Bought himself a drink, and a box of condoms. He had a young lady with him, I figured he was gonna have a good time tonight."

"A good time huh? So I guess they weren't fighting or anything." Nick continued, "do you think the young lady might have been a prostitute?"

"No, she didn't strike as me as that. Really good looking. I thought it might be his sister, till he bought the condoms."

"Now that's interesting," Brass piped up. "You have security footage?"

"Sure I do."

"Mind if we take a look?"

"No, follow me."

Marty led the 3 officers around the counter into a tiny office. "I'll just need to cue it up." A couple of minutes later, Brass and the CSIs were staring at Jeremy Lampley, wearing the same clothes he was found in, and a young woman. She was wearing a tight red blouse, tan slacks, and had short blonde hair.

Brass asked Marty, "Have you seen her before?"

"Yeah, she comes in a couple times a week. Usually buys soda, magazine, bag of chips. That sort of thing."

"Don't know who she is though huh?"

"No, never asked."

"Okay Marty, here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna borrow your tape, and if you see her again, will you call me and let me know?"

"Uh yeah sure detective. Can I get that tape back sometime though?"

"Oh yeah, don't worry about it Marty." Nick said. "We'll make a copy and get it back to you within 24 hours."

The CSIs met up with Brass again outside the store. "Well brainiacs, what's your theory now?"

"I'm lost," Sara admitted. "I doubt a that petite girl could have pulverized that soldier like that."

"Me too," Nick agreed. "Sara and I will get Archie to make us some stills from this video, and we'll check with Doc Robbins on the autopsy. Jim, why don't you head back to the hotel, talk to the folks, and we'll get back to you?"

"Aw gee Nicky, good plan. You know, I was boss of CSI once."

Nick and Sara chuckled as they got back in their Tahoe and headed back to the lab.

–6–

Back at the lab, Nick and Sara found themselves in the morbid domain of Doc Robbins, the Coroner for the Las Vegas Sheriffs department. On the table before him them, lay the body of Pvt Jeremy Lampley.

"Hi folks. I was wondering when you were going to get to me."

"Sorry Doc, we had to go watch Brass come up with a witness out of thin-air."

"Yes Sara, Jim has that talent."

"So what can you tell us?"

"Well, blunt force trauma is what killed him. I believe he was stepped on, multiple times."

"Stepped on?" Nick asked curiously.

"Well, maybe stomped on would be the more appropriate term. Look at these X-Rays. You can see the fractures around the face, even up in the occular area. What does that look like to you, Nick?"

"A shoe?"

"Yes, a very distinct shape. Not a good way to go."

"Anything else probative Doc?"

"Yes, besides being stomped on. He was bitten."

"Bitten?" Sara asked.

"Yes. His face was badly damaged, obviously, but look at his nose. Someone bit it, and pulled. Hard."

"I bet it would have drawn blood, right doc?"

"Definitely, Sara. Maybe a little more than a bloody nose."

"Okay," Sara said, "I think I can call this now...."

The Soldier and the young lady return from the store. They've been together most of the night. Partying, maybe. At the store, they bought condoms. Already under the influence of alcohol, they hit the bed. However, it gets too rough too fast. He hits her, or maybe she decides better and doesn't want to go all the way. He won't get off her. Desperate to get the big soldier off of her, she bites into nose. He screams, pushing her off and running to the bathroom to clean up the blood. Cursing her all the way.

After he cleans up, he comes out and sees the lights off, and the door open. Figuring that she's gone, he goes to the dresser to empty his wallet and keys from his pocket. He turns on the lamp. In the dresser mirror, he sees her hiding in the shadows behind him. He tries to turn around, but it's too late. With the element of surprise, she runs up behind him. She incapacitates him somehow, maybe she kicks him in the groin. He falls to the floor. Once prone, she stomps on his face multiple times, causing blood to splatter on the face of the dresser. Satisfied at the revenge she's exacted she leaves, closing the door on her way out. A few minutes later, the soldier wakes up, and crawls to the door, trailing blood as he goes, intending to seek help. However, just as he reaches the door, he passes out, falling down and later dying in a pool of his own blood.

"Kicked him in the groin huh, Sara? This is a soldier. A big, burly, guy. I don't think she could have gotten him on the ground by herself," Nick critiqued.

"You have a better idea?"

"Well, no."

"I didn't think so. Thanks Doc, Nick and I have to go see what CODIS came up with."

-7-

"No dice," Greg said. "CODIS came up empty."

"Well, that figures," Nick said. "If she's a minor or early 20s, doubtful she's gonna be in a DNA database,"

"So we're left with a really big question. How in the world does a military guy from Montana meet up with a high school or college coed in Las Vegas?"

Nick answered, "Good question, Sara. Right now we're getting more questions than answers. Maybe we should get those stills from Archie and go meet Brass."

About a half hour later, Nick and Sara found themselves back at the Lucky 13 motel. Brass had been interviewing the motel employees.

"Its about time you two showed up. Got Pictures?"

"We sure do." Nick handed Brass a couple of stills from the video. "We're gonna go have another look at the room."

Sara followed Nick up the stairs to the same room they had left hours earlier. Nick slit the Crime Scene Seal on the door, and they entered. They turned on their flashlights.

"What could we have missed, Nick?"

"I don't know, but there's gotta be something to connect the soldier and the Co-Ed. Let's have another look around."

The CSIs spent the next hour or so going over the room again with a fine tooth comb. They came up empty. Brass soon dawned the door of the room as well.

"You guys find anything else?"

"Nope, we got nothing," Sara answered, "you?"

"Well, not much. One of the maids saw the vic and our young lady enter the room, but that's about it."

Just then, Nick's cell phone rang.

He answered, "Stokes!"

-8-

The voice on the other end belonged to Warrick Brown. "You're slipping, Nick. I don't know how you EVER got to be a CSI 3!"

"What you got man?"

"I found a receipt tucked in between two credit cards in the vic's wallet. Seems our vic bought some drinks at Club Nightline a few hours before he died."

"Drinks huh?"

"Yeah, Vodka Collins and two shots of something called 'Silk Panties'."

"Silk panties, that sounds like a chick drink."

"Sure does."

"Thanks Warrick, I owe you one."

"You owe me like 20, but whose counting? Later."

They hung up. Nick called out, "Hey Sara, wanna go on a date to the trendiest club in town?"

"Was that Warrick? I'd rather go with him."

"Hey, what's he got that I don't?"

She walked up to him an elbowed him just a little. "A sense of humor. Don't get all wounded on me big boy!"

Nick could only smirk as they returned to the Tahoe, Brass in tow.

-9-

Club Nightline. It was one of the newest and trendiest clubs that were springing up all over Vegas. Brass lead the way inside, followed by Nick and Sara.

"Covers 20 bucks," a skinheaded, large, young man in a torn shirt and sunglasses said.

"Wow, seems like I did this with Grissom and Warrick once. Uh, look pal, I got a badge that says me and these two fine CSIs get in free tonight. We ain't here for the party, we're here to talk to the boss of the party."

"Got a warrant?"

"That's a big word for you. No, just let me talk to your supervisor, or better yet, whoever was guard-dogging this door last night."

"You're two for two," a voice said from behind Brass. The CSIs turned to see another young man. This one was well dressed, and had hair, but he was just as big as the skinhead at the door now. "I'm Derrick Doliver, owner and operator." He reached out and shook Brass's hand.

"You guard your own doors too, huh?" Brass said.

"Well, we were busy last night, so I had to help where I was needed."

Nick held up a still photo of the vic and young girl. "Do you recognize either of these two individuals?"

"Yeah, the guy was in here last night, and the gal is Linda, she's one of my waitresses."

Now Brass took over in full interrogation mode. "Did they leave together?"

"I don't think so."

"Why not?

"I don't see why they would."

"What time did Linda get off last night?"

"About 11PM. Is there a problem?"

"Maybe. Was this guy here after she left?"

"Honestly officer, I have no idea."

"Tell me more about Linda, is she here now?"

"No, her boyfriend Ted usually picks her up after work, and takes her home. She's a student at the college. Lives in the dorms."

"You have footage from the doors here last night?"

"We do, but you'll need a warrant to see them, I have the right to protect the privacy of these guests."

"Look, someone in your club last night was murdered, and we have a very strong suspicion your employee was involved. Now, we can play nice, or I can call in some back up and we're gonna go through this place and catch every under-age individual in here. Are we gonna find enough of them to shut you down?"

"Fine. Follow me."

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Brass retorted.

Brass and the CSIs followed Doliver through the club, back to his security office. "Just a second, I'll need to get the footage from last night. Where do you want to look?"

"How about the main door between 10:55PM and 11:55PM?" Sara asked.

"Okay, hold on..." Doliver played with some buttons on his computer keyboard. "Here you go."

The four began to watch the footage in real time. The time stamp progressed slowly, until 11:16 PM, at which point Brass told Doliver to stop. "There she is, our lady and our vic." They were clearly visible, walking arm and arm out the door.

"I don't believe it," Doliver said. I would never think Linda would go off with another guy."

"Well, believe it." Brass said.

-10-

A little while later, the CSIs stood outside the dorm room of Linda Bailey, 21 year old college student. Brass had a warrant in his hand obtained by virtue of the multiple video footage of Linda with the victim, and the presence of female DNA on the drink cup.

Sara and Nick placed their kits on the ground, and put their hands on their guns.

Brass knocked on the door and said out loud, "Las Vegas Police, Search Warrant, open the door!"

A minute later they heard the latch come undone inside the door. It opened slightly, and a female face peeked through. "Uh....I'm not dressed." The voice said.

The CSIs heard a crash in the room behind her.

"Get back!" Brass yelled. The woman jumped out of his way as Brass forced his way through the door. Nick and Sara came barging in behind him, guns drawn.

The woman was indeed not dressed. She had a towel wrapped around her and a bathrobe over her shoulders.

The sound of the crash was obvious. In the middle of the room, a young man lay in the middle of the floor, pants around his ankles. He had fallen over into a coffee table. "Well, you didn't have to dress up on my account," Brass said. He turned to the woman. "Linda Bailey?"

"Yes?"

"As I mentioned, I'm from the Las Vegas police. These folks are with the crime lab. They're going to execute this warrant, which means we're gonna need a DNA sample, and all the shoes on the premises."

"What's this about?"

"Do you know a Jeremy Lampley?"

"No."

"So you didn't leave Club Nightline with him last night?"

"No. My boyfriend here, this guy on the floor, Ted, picked me up and brought me home."

Sara looked down at the half-naked man on the floor. "Hi Ted! Did you know your girlfriend was a liar?" As she said this, she removed a new DNA swab.

"What the hell are you talking about, lady?" Ted asked gruffly.

Brass answered as Sara approached Linda Bailey and collected her DNA with a buccal swab. "Well, Ted, you see we have a photo of her leaving the club with this Jeremy Lampley last night. That makes her a liar. Unfortunately, Mr. Lampley is now dead, and we have reason to believe that your girlfriend might be worse than a liar."

"Not unless she wears Nike size 13's," Nick said, as he held up a pair of shoes.

-11-

Linda had called Ted, telling him that she was going to work late. Ted was aggravated, they were supposed to go to go to a late night Noir Movie at the local Art House. Feeling down, Ted drove to the club, hoping to change her mind. As he got out of the car, he was appalled to see her leaving with another man. What in the world was going on here?

Linda and the man got into her car and drove off. Ted followed them, keeping his distance. His heart sank as they pulled into the parking lot of the Lucky 13 motel. The two got out of her car, and started up a flight of stairs. Then Linda stopped. He could see they were arguing. This was getting weirder all the time. They walked back down the stairs, and headed down the street on foot.

Ted sat in his car fuming. He couldn't imagine why Linda would cheat on him. Was it something else? Was she buying drugs? What could possibly be going on?

A few minutes later, he noticed the couple return. He prayed Linda would get in her car and drive off, but she didn't. They went upstairs, entered a room, and closed the door.

He had to stop it. Now. If there was anything he could do! His sullenness turned to rage. What had he done to deserve this? Had he not treated her right? He got out, and slammed the car door. He quickly made his way up the stairs.

Just as he got to the top, Linda burst out of the door, drops of blood on her blouse. She froze when she saw Ted, than ran towards him, pushed her way by him, and down to her car.

Ted approached the room, the lights were off. What had this guy done to Linda? He must have forced her to go with him. It all made sense now. It wasn't his fault, or Linda's. It was this strangers. This stranger was trying to ruin Linda's life. Well, he would make sure that didn't happen.

Full of adrenaline, Ted snuck into the room. Condoms on the bed! He grabbed them and tossed them in the waste basket. He hid in a dark corner and waited. A minute or so later, the man emerged from the bathroom. He walked over to the dresser and turned on the lamp. Ted knew the man would see him in the mirror, it was now or never.

The stranger never saw it coming.

Ted ran up behind him and grabbed the back of the mans head. With all his might, he slammed the mans face into the top of the dresser. The man crumpled, and lay on the ground. Ted looked down at that face. The mans eyes opened, the eyes that had been undressing his Linda.....

Ted stomped.

Again...

Again....

and again.....

–12–

Nick and Sara stood by her car. It had been a long day, a double shift. At least in the end, they knew they had solved the case, and that they had been the voice of the victim, yet again. The DNA that Sara had taken matched the female DNA found on the drink cup, proving Linda was in the room, or at least with Jeremy for part of the night.

Ted was in a state of undress when Brass had barged in to Linda's dorm room. Apparently, they had been making up, physically speaking. Nick had found Ted's shoes on the floor. On the shoes was blood matching the victims. More evidence was forthcoming as well. Grissom had printed the condom box, and the prints matched those of Ted. Nick and Sara had also found Linda's blouse, with the victims blood on it. A further search of Ted Stafford's apartment had yielded a pair of jeans, with the victim's blood on the leg as well as a pair of socks, sporting the victim's blood on the top cuff.

Faced with the amount of evidence, Ted confessed. The DA was working on a plea deal.

"One thing I don't get," Nick said. "How in the world did Linda meet our soldier boy? Just at the club?"

"Internet." Sara said. "She met him in a chat room. She said in her interview that she had been 'exploring' and had met Jeremy in a chat room. After some 'cyber-sex' and eventually some phone calls, they decided to take the next step, and he came to Vegas to meet her. Supposedly, she got cold feet, and he wouldn't stop."

"Well, maybe they had phone sex after he got to Vegas, accounting for the semen on his boxers. Do you think she's lying?"

"I don't know. Tough to say. Blood on Ted's shoes, socks, and pants is defintely the vic's. No bloodon the top of the dresser because the first hit is always free. We can't prove that she actually had a part in the murder, and Ted is willing to take the fall, so she gets to go home. I think we can assume her life will never be the same. I'll never understand, Nick, why people have to the internet for meaningful relationships. That's just weird."

"I don't know either, Sara."

"Well, I'm going to go home and get some sleep. See you later Nick." She got into her car.

"Sara, wait....." Nick called.

"What?"

"Oh, uh, never mind. I was going to ask you about some paper work, but we'll get it later."

"Oh, ok. Well, have a good night Nick."

"Yeah, you too." Paperwork? What? Nick wondered to himself as Sara drove off, what was it about her?

–END–

Original Story–Brandon aka GrissomJam, October 2004.