Disclaimer: CSI not mine. Story of my life :(
Grissom knocked on the door and waited. He was prepared to wait a while, seeing as it was barely dawn. He squinted through his sunglasses as the door of the Evelyn home. Behind him, Nick and Sara also wore their glasses. One of the downsides of working the graveyard shift, Grissom mused wryly, was a development of an aversion to sunlight.
"The cops called ahead, right?" Jackie asked Sara. The model had insisted on coming along, and had brought the bear with her. Grissom suspected it was her own version of guilt therapy.
Sara nodded at the woman. "But no-one picked up the phone. They might not even be here."
"Oh, they're here." Jackie looked up at the house, shading her eyes against the glare of the rising sun. "She's probably watching us now."
"If I were her, I'd take off. I wouldn't stick around here just waiting for someone to come looking for me."
Jackie looked witheringly at Nick. "First of all, you're not a girl. Second of all, you're not a model. Third of all, you're not Tina."
Grissom knocked again. "Las Vegas Crime Lab!" He called.
The door opened slowly, then stopped. A chain barred the way. Through the gap in the door, a man built like a brick outhouse glowered.
"Whaddyawan'?"
Grissom tried to be polite. "Sir, we'd like to speak to Tina…"
"She ain't here." The man scowled. "She's at some modelling thing."
"Sir," Grissom said civilly, "We're just investigating her disappearance…"
"Well if she's gone, I got no clue where she is." The man scowled, then gave Grissom a couple of flowery words to describe exactly where he and his partners should go.
"It's okay, dad," a soft voice said from behind the behemoth of a man, "Jackie's with them."
The man's eyes flickered up, narrowed in suspicion. Jackie stepped forward, and waved the bear at him. The door closed, and there was the sound of the chain sliding across.
The door opened, and this time it wasn't Tina's dad standing in the doorway. It was Tina.
She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. Tall, slim, and gloriously blonde, she naturally had the body many girls around the world would kill themselves to try to attain. A heart-shaped face framed perfectly-proportioned, perfectly-aligned features, and eyes of the most alluring shade of blue took the world in and analysed it. She looked over Grissom, Sara, and Nick, before turning slowly to face her old friend.
"Hey, Tina," Jackie said, not even bothering to use the baby-voice. "How are ya, chicka?"
Tina blinked slowly, but otherwise didn't seem very surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to tell you that it's over," Jackie said quietly. "Marcus is going away. We just need you to come to court and tell everyone what that assholes been doing to you."
Tina tilted her head slightly, then turned to face Grissom. "You're serious? He's going to prison?"
"For the use and possession of cocaine," Grissom affirmed, "And for abuse."
"It never stopped him before," Tina said, barely batting an eyelid. Jackie squirmed slightly, almost unnoticeably.
"Well, we got him this time, ma'am." Nick said politely. "And he's going away for a long time."
Tina Evelyn, the most beautiful supermodel from Marcus Vincent's group of six, slowly began to smile. She hadn't had a reason to smile in a long time. Her smile, showing perfectly straight teeth, was infectious, and soon Jackie, Nick and Sara were grinning. Tina stepped outside and quietly shut the door behind her.
"Sure," she said, a Southern twang in her voice now that her good humour had returned, "I'll testify. Put that bastard behind bars for a good long time." She smiled at Jackie. "What took you so long, sugar? You should'a come t' me and told me much sooner that this is what you were plannin'!"
Then there was the squeal of tires, and Tina's smile vanished. Jackie's face grew white, and she quickly hugged her teddy-bear to her chest again, resuming the child-like persona. Grissom turned. There was no mistaking that car - he'd seem it next to Marcus's trailer, behind Caesar's Palace. Tina opened the door again and ran inside her house, calling for her father.
"She's here!" Marcus bellowed, launching himself from the driver's seat of his Cadillac, "That little whore was here all along!"
The cops outside the Evelyn place tried to stop him, but it was like trying to stop a bulldozer with a feather duster. He just pushed them aside and kept striding towards the house. There was murder in his eyes.
"Move." He hissed at the CSI's. Nick, Sara and Grissom stood firm, all three of them reaching for their guns. "I said move, dammit! Get the hell out of my way!" When the three CSI's didn't budge, Marcus stepped back… and drew a gun of his own. Sara tightened the grip on her trigger, but didn't dare fire. She was the only CSI who kept her gun in her hands.
Marcus aimed his pistol at Jackie, who was to his left, and too far away for the CSI's to help her. "Move," Marcus hissed, "Or I blow her brains to hell." Jackie muffled a cry in her bear's head - she wasn't faking this time.
The cops came running up behind the mad manager with their clubs at the ready. But Tina's father got there first.
The manager stared at the muzzle of the shotgun aimed at his nose, almost going cross-eyed. For a man nearly seven feet tall, Mr Evelyn was very fast. He'd slipped from behind Nick, Grissom and Sara and gotten in Marcus's face before Marcus had even finished saying 'blow her brains to hell'.
"You little piece of…" Mr Evelyn remembered his manners, seeing as there were ladies present. "If it were up to me, I'd shoot you here and now for what you did to Tina." Mr Evelyn smiled, looking somehow more dangerous with the smile than he did with the gun. "But then, I think we outta do this the proper way, by the book. I'm pretty sure you'll get a fair trial…" He smiled. "I mean, you can afford a lawyer, right? Or did you spend everything on drugs, Mr Vee?"
Marcus dropped his pistol and put his hands in the air, whimpering and babbling. The cops stood back, gaping, eyes wide. Nick, Sara and Grissom also stood back. This was an extremely unexpected turn of events.
"Y'all gonna arrest him?" Mr Evelyn asked the crowd dryly, "Or am I going to have to get all Rambo on his ass?"
The police slapped handcuffs on Marcus Vincent and dragged him away.
Tina ran out of the house and hugged her father around the waist. The man grinned, lowered his shotgun, and ruffled his daughter's hair. "S'okay, honey. You're safe now." He glanced up at Grissom and his team. "We'll see that little prick… I mean, that little twerp, in court." Grissom and Nick managed feeble smiles
Sara went over to Jackie and put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
Jackie took a steadying breath, then nodded. "Almost, anyway." She looked at Sara, then jerked her head in the direction that Marcus was being dragged. "Come with me? I need some kind of moral support here."
For a moment, Sara considered saying 'no'. Jackie had played her emotions, fooled Sara into believing that Jackie was something when she wasn't. But then, there was the fact that Marcus was her father. She had every reason to do what she did.
"Sure." Sara said, putting her gun away. The pair of them headed down to the cruiser where Marcus was being shoved, unceremoniously, in the back seat. He'd already seemingly recovered, and was heaping abuse and threats on the police who were trying to put him in the car. The manager caught sight of Jackie coming towards him, and sneered. A blank-faced arrogant sneer.
"What the hell are you looking at?" He barked.
Jackie lifted her head from the bear and stared him down. Then, without a word, she handed the bear to Sara and went towards him.
"Good luck," she said simply. Marcus stared at her, uncomprehending. Then Jackie smirked, just like her father did, and dropped the baby-act. "You're gonna need it… sweetie," she said, her voice with that same New-York twang.
Marcus' jaw dropped. He continued to stare back at his daughter even as he was driven away.
"You know," Jackie said thoughtfully, as she headed back up towards the Evelyn home, "I thought about giving him a speech. Y'know, something like 'Listen, you overgrown parasite: I've put up with your bull for years. You have no idea how gratifying this is, to finally see you going away', but somehow this was much more satisfying."
Sara said nothing, but held the bear out to Jackie again. After a moment's hesitation, the model took it, and held it tightly in her arms.
"You know," Sara said, forcing herself to speak, "Now that Marcus is behind bars, everything he owns goes to his heirs."
Jackie snorted. "Oh yay, I inherit a drug dependence." She rolled her eyes.
"What about the company he made, Jackie?"
Jackie's eyes widened. "I hadn't thought of that." She stared at Sara. "You're serious? It all belongs to me?" When Sara nodded, Jackie stared into nothing, her eyes huge. "Wow."
"So," Sara smiled, "What are you going to do?"
Jackie suddenly became very businesslike. "Well, seeing as we've already been sponsored, all the clothes are there, and the place is all set up, why shouldn't the show go on? Nothing will have changed… except the management techniques." Jackie grinned. "This should be interesting." She sobered, and sighed. "But then, I've got a lot of explaining to do. To Dana especially. She trusted me, and she's going to have kittens when she finds out I lied to her. That I only pretended to be a little kid."
"Was it worth it?" Sara asked.
Jackie looked up at Sara, frowning… then, with a sigh, she shook her head.
"I don't think so." The supermodel looked wistfully up at Tina and her father, who were talking to Nick and Grissom. Both Evelyns wore grins on their faces. An aura of family togetherness surrounded them both.
Sara recognised that wistful look. She'd seen Val use it when Warrick, Nick and Sara had been talking in the lab together the previous night. She'd seen that look on the faces of children who saw an ice-cream truck drive past on a hot day. She'd seen it often enough in the mirror every time she thought of everything she'd lost… and of everything that she could never have.
"I don't think it was worth it," Jackie repeated softly. "After all my acting, after everything I did to become stronger, after everything I did to put him away, where he belongs… All I did was… become him." She sighed again, then managed a sad smile. "But then, like your friend up there said, I'm a survivor. I'll deal."
Sara smiled, and watched as Jackie headed up towards the house. Tina saw Jackie, and ran towards her. The two girls embraced, as good friends would. Jackie began to speak, as though to explain, but Tina just laughed and tossed her head. She was just glad to see her friend alive and well.
Nick and Grissom came down the lawn towards Sara. "You ready to go?" Grissom asked her. Grissom…
Sara smiled. "Sure." She was glad she had her sunglasses on, so Grissom couldn't see the look in her eyes as she climbed in the SUV.
-
Val and Warrick paced quietly through the house, both glad for and cursing the carpet - it hid the sounds of their footfalls, but whoever this guy was he was armed, and he knew the house better than they did. He could sneak up on them without them even knowing. Both CSI's were torn between the decision to stay in the building and catch the criminal before he escaped, or waiting outside for the cops to arrive. Whoever was impersonating Mr Westwood wasn't one to mess around with.
"We should try and get outside," Warrick suggested.
Val seemed to teeter on indecision. "He could get away, though."
"He has a knife," Warrick reminded her.
"We have guns," Val countered. She looked around the house again. "He couldn't have gone far. What rooms are connected to the kitchen?"
"Getting a little gung-ho, aren't we?"
She gave him a withering look, but it was tinged with worry. "Warrick, we are the only ones here. The police aren't coming for another twenty minutes because of Grissom's supermodel case. We have to do this."
Warrick sighed, but was forced to agree. "You sure you're up to it?"
Val looked at him strangely. "Why wouldn't I be?" She slid sideways along a wall, and peered through a half-open door. Warrick stood on the other side, his gun held at the ready. On the count of three, they burst into the room.
Nothing. The room was empty - tastefully decorated, but empty.
"You always hold your gun like that?" Warrick asked.
Val held her gun in her left hand, down at waist level, angled upwards. Val looked up at Warrick. "It feels better that way," she said simply.
Warrick smiled slightly, then turned and padded silently across the living room, thinking Val would follow right behind him. But Val went into the room, and looked around, as though suspecting that the ersatz Mr Westwood was hiding behind the drapes, or a chair, or something. She moved forward, her hands by her side, her gun angled up. With her free hand, she pulled back the curtains. Nothing. Slowly, warily, she scanned the whole room, her eyes as fierce as they had been the day she was at Julia Westwood's home. This room was empty…
The light suddenly went out. Val whirled, but not fast enough. The door slammed, and she was plunged into darkness.
Warrick heard the door slam, and winced. He turned… and found he was alone. "Val?" There was no-one there. Come on, Val, this isn't the time to be playing around… "Val?"
Out the window, Warrick saw two cruisers pull up in the driveway. Brass was one of the officers who climbed out. He looked in a hurry.
Maybe if Warrick had been paying more attention to the room he might've seen the criminal creeping up behind him.
The blade passed within inches of his neck. "Aah!" Warrick leapt back, and lifted his gun to fire. The man launched himself at Warrick again, and the knife flashed silver in the post-dawn sunlight. The gun dropped from Warrick's hand, and the CSI saw blood spurt from his hand. He cradled it to his stomach, not knowing how serious the wound was, and not willing to take any chances. Blood smeared on his shirt.
The police began to hammer away at the door. Warrick heard Brass bellow something, but was more intent of staying out of reach of the man's kitchen knife.
There was the sound of a shot. The man with the knife staggered, hit from behind. Val came powering down the living room, gun held high this time, aimed at the victim. She saw the blood on Warrick's shirt and her eyes widened.
The man with the knife turned his attention to Val, and she fired twice more. The man buckled, then fell to the floor, groaning. Val waited until the man had stopped moving before lowering her gun and running to Warrick's side.
"I'm okay," Warrick said, before she asked any frantic questions. "He just nicked my hand, is all." The relief on Valerie's face was immense. Warrick held his hand up for both their inspections. It didn't even look that serious. Probably wouldn't need any stiches - just a bandaid.
Brass and his troop came barrelling in, guns drawn. They saw the man on the floor, immobile, the knife lax in his grip. They saw Warrick, his hand cut and bleeding, and Val with a gun in her hand.
"Well," Brass said dryly, putting away his pistol, "I guess you won't need us then."
Val cleared her throat, "Um, aren't you going to arrest him? He's not dead." As though to illustrate this point, the man on the floor gave a feeble groan, and his fingers flexed as he searched for the knife.
Warrick looked to Val, incredulous. "No way. You hit him right in the kill zone. Three times. You can't be that bad a shot."
Val rolled her eyes, then opened up the ammunition case of her gun. She held up one of the bullets. "Rubber-tipped. Painful, but not lethal." Her eyes dimmed, and her fingers strayed to her scar. "I know how easy it is to kill someone."
"Well," Brass smiled, as the police pulled the groaning man to his feet and cuffed him, "You made our job a whole lot easier. Next time, though, leave the bad guys to us. You should stick to your DNA and your fingerprints and your little…"
"DNA." Warrick looked up. "Brass, get this guy's DNA and compare it to the serial killer case we were investigating."
Brass raised an eyebrow. "Okay, sure. He's already going in for assault on an officer, so why shouldn't we get his DNA?" With a roll of his eyes, Brass strode out, followed the handcuffed assailant.
Val watched them go, then turned back to Warrick. "You sure you're okay?"
Warrick grinned. "Nothing I can't handle. And it's not that serious, Val, okay? So don't get all nurse-y on me now. If you want serious, talk to Nick. He got thrown out of a window once."
Val maintained a pleasant smile, but said nothing.
With a grin, Warrick headed for the door. "Come on, let's get back to the lab and see if we can solve this case."
A/N: Don't worry, it's not over yet. Review? Thankye. And to those who ask, do you know how HARD it is to find your way out of a dark room? That's what kept Val. Okay? Sheesh.
Oh yeah, and WELCOME BACK NERWEN AND TINUVIEL! I missed you guys so much! n-nv