Disclaimer: Insert something humorous here about how I don't own CSI.

Sara ran her flashlight over the car. Prints on the doorhandle were the victim's, there was no doubt about that. Passenger door was the same. Sara found the evidence agreeing with Grissom's theory - if he was being blackmailed, he should have had some sort of bag to hold money for a payoff. With the passenger window up, a blackmailer would have had to open the door, not only to get the money, but to shoot John Doe. If the blackmailer wore gloves, then the fingerprints on either of the doors would have been smudged. They weren't.

Sara frowned as she climbed into the passenger side of the land rover. Grissom was still hiding something. Why did he have to be so difficult? He could just share what he knew, and the case would be solved much faster... It was so typical of him, keeping to himself, not sharing anything, not even...

Mobile phone, hidden under passenger seat.

Sara reached under and picked it up. An earlier Nokia version, nothing too flash. She turned it on. The batteries were full. Sara smiled. The last calls had been made within an hour of the man's death. Prime evidence. All she needed to do was trace the calls and find out exactly what John was up to in his last few hours and she'd have the case in the bag.

Sara shone her flashlight around the car's interior one more time. She saw the bullet hole in the roof of the car, where one of the bullets had pierced John Doe's skull. Idly, she wondered if Grissom had discovered anything new in the autopsy room.

Grissom sneezed. Dr Robbins looked up.

"Sorry," Grissom apologised.

Dr Robbins shook his head. "At least you covered your mouth."

Grissom sighed, then focused on the body on the table in front of him. "So, doc, what do we know?"

The coroner shrugged. "Two bullets, four holes. They came in, went out. Shredded his brain, severed his trachea, opened up his jugular and both his carotids, and barely missed his spine." Dr Robbins shook his head. "Though it wouldn't matter, because he was dead within minutes."

"'Shredded his brain'?"

"Yeah," Dr Robbins hobbled over to an x-ray of the dead man's skull. "Bullet entered here," he pointed just below the man's jaw-line, "And came up through here." He pointed to a noticeable hole in the man's skull on the right side.

The bullet tore through the man's neck and up through the roof of his mouth. Without losing momentum, the bullet ripped though the top of his skull. Brain matter splattered everywhere, reduced to jell-o in seconds, both in and out of the skull.

"But for some reason, the bit of his brain controlling the heart was left intact, so it kept beating."

Grissom frowned. "Violently brain-dead yet still alive?"

"Ain't that something."

"That would explain all the blood," Grissom shrugged. "Anything else?"

"He was high."

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "He was on drugs?"

"I found small injection wounds in his arms, both old and new," Dr Robbins hobbled back to the dead man's body. "Ran a tox-screen. Came back positive for heroin." The undersides of the man's elbows looked like pincushions.

"Paranoid and expecting someone." Grissom said thoughtfully. "An interesting mix." He looked down at the pale cold body of the unknown man. "Do we have enough for identification yet?"

"Ran his dental records. Luckily there were still enough teeth in his mouth for that. Came back Damien Peterson, 29, has a history of drug use and a couple of fines and jail terms for possession. His bank account is very, very red." Dr Robbins shook his head. "His whole life story told by the money he doesn't have."

Grissom sighed. "Thanks, doc."

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It's got to be Mrs Carson, Warrick thought darkly as he drove back to the lab. She wanted me out of her house ASAP, and according to the kids, didn't want to call the police. She's got something she's not sharing'. I can just tell.

A sudden shrill alarm made Warrick nearly swerve into the next lane.

"What the...!"

Cars beeped their horns as Warrick brought his Tahoe back out of incoming traffic. What the hell was that? Nearly gave me a heart attack!

The shrill beeping continued until Warrick realised it was the clock he had brought from the Carson's house. He pulled into a side road and rifled around in his evidence case until he found the clock. Through the plastic of the back it was in, Warrick pressed the button on the clock. The silence after the alarm was turned off was a major relief... but also strangely deafening.

"I thought you were supposed to only go off every four hours," Warrick glowered at the clock accusingly. The clock didn't answer, but started counting up from zero again.

Warrick frowned, an idea slowly coming to him. He headed back to the lab, a theory already buzzing around in his head.

A/N: Nick has not yet been recommended as Lead CSI, Greg's only outing was on 'Chasing the Bus' and Sara and Grissom still can't get it together. Grissom also doesn't have that weird beard and Nick hasn't shaved his head. A season two-based fanfic with a great many salutes to seasons three and four.

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