Stalking
Chapter 2
A/N: Sorry it's been so long since the first chapter (which actually needed to be reposted). I was having a lot of computer problems, but now I have a wonderful, brand new desktop delivered by the lovely people at Dell. So I will definitely have more updates, more frequently. Please read and review!
Nick followed Emma into the kitchen of her townhouse, exactly similar in layout to his. Gotta love cookie cutter subdivisions…
Hers, however, was much more like a home, with pictures and toys all over, slightly messy – lived in. His wouldn't look like that even after he was all unpacked. You needed a family to have a home like that.
He leaned against the door, watching her open the fridge, feeling a pang of longing he didn't want to analyze too closely.
She pulled out the pitcher and reached into the dishwasher for freshly clean glasses. When she turned and saw him still standing there, she smiled, laughing nervously, knowing he had been watching her.
A shy smile graced Nick's mouth as he glanced down, hiding the slight blush at being caught.
"So, since you have co-workers to help you move, I take it you're not new to Vegas?"
"No, I moved here a couple years ago."
"From Texas, based on the accent."
"Dallas. And you're from out East."
"Originally. Most recently, Lisa and I lived in Los Angeles. We moved here just a couple weeks ago."
"How do you like Vegas so far?" Nick asked as he reached for his glass of lemonade, draining it three-quarters of the way.
Emma smiled and poured him some more.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. You must be thirsty," she took a sip from her own glass. "Uh. I don't know. The neighborhood's okay, and Lisa's school is great, but I still feel guilty for bringing my daughter to a place like this."
"If you stay away from the strip, it's not that bad of a place."
"I know – it's irrational."
Nick chuckled. "You know, before I came here, I didn't think people actually lived in Las Vegas.
"I know!" They both laughed, caught each other's eyes, looked quickly away and took sips to cover up the confusion.
"So did you come to America's Playground for a job or…?"
"Yep. I work for the LVPD."
"A cop?" Nick was a little confused about the undertone of fear in her voice at that word. He knew that most people were uncomfortable around police officers, but her fear had a different ring to it.
"Kind of. I'm in criminalistics – I collect and analyze evidence."
"Like all those Discovery Channel shows?"
Nick laughed and nodded.
"I used to be a cop, back in Texas. But I just needed a change."
"I can relate to that."
"Oh? What did you do before coming here?"
"Uh…" Emma cleared her throat, standing up to put her cup in the sink. "I worked in the business/ accounting office of my friend's company. Here, I'm doing basically the same thing for Caesar's Palace."
"So I guess my earlier advice to stay away from the Strip is going to be kind of hard to follow."
"Yeah…oh, well."
They fell silent for a few seconds, unsure of what to say next. Nick picked up the cup and drank slowly, wanting to have an excuse to stay, even for a few more minutes.
"Uh…. Other than lemonade, there's not really anything else I can offer you. Have you eaten yet?"
"No, actually."
"I told Lisa we could order pizza since I haven't gone grocery shopping. You're welcome to join us."
"Sure…thanks." Nick flashed his trademark grin at Emma, who felt a rush go through her that she hadn't felt for a long, long time. And it scared her….for more than one reason.
Nick could hardly concentrate on the scene the next afternoon – not because he was tired, which he was, but because he kept laughing or smiling, depending on which memory from the night before crossed his mind. He, Emma and Lisa had finished Aladdin over Pizza Hut delivery and then started playing Clue until Lisa could hardly keep her eyes open.
The entire game Emma had been teasing him, saying he should be able to guess who the "killer" was right away – after all a board game couldn't be as hard as a real crime. So, in an effort to "preserve his pride," he took to describing what he would do if he was the one investigating Miss Scarlet, Professor Plum and the rest. How he would bag the bloody knife, how he would dust the candlestick for prints. Lisa was rolling around on the floor laughing, and Nick himself hadn't laughed that much in a long time. He even was able to spend a whole night without once thinking about Nigel Crane.
After Lisa was tucked in and sound asleep, Nick and Emma plugged in an adult movie but instead spent the next two hours talking. Never about anything big or serious, just some of his interesting case, some of her stories of Lisa's childhood, some of their stories about their own childhoods.
All in all, it was an amazing night, and Nick knew he was more than a little falling for the girl next door. The only problem was, her stories – except for those about Lisa - were just a little too…emotionless. Like she was talking about the highlights of a stranger's life.
Or, thought the CSI part of Nick's brain, like she was lying.
Nick shook his head, clearing from it such a stupid thought. Why would someone lie about stuff like that? And why would he think, if anyone could, that person would be Emma? He wondered if it wasn't some sort of defense mechanism his mind was orchestrating, thinking it would be better and easier to remain alone rather than subject someone else to his problems.
Maybe he had just seen too much in his job to believe that anyone actually still told the truth.
"Ni-ick?"
He jerked his head toward Catherine, nearly dropping his flashlight in the process."
"What's up? I called your name about three times."
"Uh, sorry, Cath. Just thinking about things."
She furrowed her brow at him, obviously trying to decide if she should push it. Although she didn't shrug, Nick could tell she did the mental equivalent but only answered with an "okay."
"You got anything interesting?"
"Not really… this scene is clean."
"I know. Hardly any obvious evidence, shooter kills the guy straight in the forehead without appearing to hesitate. Not to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but doesn't this seem almost like a professional job?"
Nick laughed and glanced over at her. "I was actually thinking the same thing."
"Good, maybe the D.A. won't laugh us out of his office if that's what we both think."
"Cath, we're a long ways away from the D.A. on this one. He doesn't exactly prosecute crimes with no suspects."
"Nick, there are always suspects – you just have to know where to look."
"Okay, thanks Grissom."
"Please, it's sensei."
Nick chuckled, his mind already drifting away from the conversation as a flash of color caught his eye. Stepping carefully toward the object, he knelt down to pick it up. A bright yellow index card, completely blank.
"Well, Cath. If this was a professional hit, I might have just found the calling card … literally."
Nick sat at the computer, skimming through federal reports of similar M.O.s. One grabbed his interest and he read more thoroughly, highlighting it as a possibility. He was just about to start searching again when a knock on the door interrupted him. Catherine was standing there with a bemused expression on her face, next to what was obviously a Fed, complete with dark suit, white shirt, sunglasses – even indoors – and the cookie cutter haircut.
"No need to look for the Feds, Nicky, the Feds found us. Agent Joe Henner, this is Nick Stokes. Nick, Agent Henner heard through the grapevine about our calling card guy and thinks he knows who did it."
The agent stepped forward to shake Nick's hand, then turned to address both of them. "It is probably the work of a relatively new hired killer, out trying to make a name for herself."
"Herself?"
"Unusual, I know. But we do think it's a woman based on profiling and an eyewitness at the last murder – who was fortunately not discovered by the assassin. This killer has already hit a Boston man, leaving his wife and child alone in the world, and more recently a police officer in Los Angeles. I'm hoping we'll be able to help each other out on this one."
Nick and Catherine shared an amused glance – they knew what that meant when a Fed said it: they'd do all the work, he'd take all the glory.
"To start off with, here's a sketch described by the eye witness."
Catherine leaned over to look at the drawing Agent Henner held out.
"Hmmm…"
Nick held out his hand to grab the sketch from the agent, turning it right side up before fully glancing at it. But when he did, his stomach plummeted.
Emma…
A/N Part 2: I know, really short chapter – but that's a good place to stop it, don't you think? MWA HA HA HA HA