West Las Vegas High School was quiet. The students had mostly left for the day, and any staying after school were outside enjoying the warm spring weather. The soccer team was just beginning its warm up laps around the track, and the drama club was in the parking lot painting sets for the upcoming musical.
He sat in the classroom, buried in the pile quizzes that he had to grade. It had been a long afternoon so far, and he was glad to be finally getting down to work while he waited for her. The eerie silence that filled the school didn't bother him, he was glad to finally have some peace and quiet to help him concentrate. Concentration was all it took to get through the stack of papers in front of him. He picked up his red pen and began to mark the papers, carefully examining each answer and recording the final grades in his disorganized grade book.
Halfway through first period's papers, he realized how warm the room was. The nice day outside let the sunlight pour into the room, and the temperature had risen to the point where he was rather uncomfortable. He rose from the desk and went to open the classroom door, letting in the breeze from the hallway.
"I wish this damn place had windows that you could actually open," he muttered. In his desire to avoid getting back to grading the papers, he noticed that his whiteboard needed to be erased. So he picked up the eraser and began pushing it back and forth across the board, watching the algebra problems from that morning disappear.
He heard a rustle behind him and felt the bullet pierce through his back. Crying out, he dropped to the floor. Blood pooled around him. Everything went black.
Sara Sidle and Gil Grissom walked into the classroom at West Las Vegas High School, and immediately saw a sandy-haired man lying on his back in a pool of blood. He was a medium build and was dressed in a jacket and tie, which were covered in the burgundy liquid.
Lieutenant Brass gave them the basic details: "His name is Robert Mason, thirty-seven years old. Suffered from a gunshot wound to the back, and he was dead on arrival. The principal noticed him when she came in to check his lesson plans for the week, and she's says she turned him over to check his vitals. Then she called 911."
"Where is the principal now?" asked Grissom.
"She's in the hallway giving her statement to my guys," Brass answered, "And none of my men touched anything on the scene, so don't worry. You can take it from here, I assume?"
"Yes, as soon as Greg gets here we'll start processing the scene. Thank you, Brass." Brass walked out of the classroom, nodding.
"Sara, why don't you go talk to that principal while I get started in here and wait for Greg," Grissom directed.
"Sure, I'll be back in a bit."
She was glad to avoid Greg as much as possible, even if it was just temporarily while she questioned the witness. Avoiding him was tough in her situation, since they worked together so often. Their bad date just kept playing in her head, and she had no clue how she was going to get things back to normal with him again.
Two of Brass's policemen were just thanking the principal for her statement when Sara stepped into the hallway. The woman looked to be in her late forties. She had dark brown hair streaked with gray, and was wearing grey pantsuit with black pumps. The pantsuit was stained with blood, likely the victim's. Sara noted that she had the typical "principal" look, with oversized glasses attached to a beaded chain that dangled by her ears.
"She's all yours," said the female officer, winking at Sara while snapping her gum. Sara hated people who winked, it was strange and unprofessional.
"Hello, ma'am, my name is Sara Sidle and I'm from the Las Vegas crime lab. Can I have you name, please?" Sara got out her tape recorder and began recording the conversation.
"My name is Janine Pritchard. I've been the principal here at WLVHS for twenty-two years, and I've never had anything like this happen here before! This is crazy! That this would happen at MY school! Who would want to do this to Robert? He was such a good teacher! All the students were crazy about –"
Sara cut her off, "Ms. Pritchard, let's start from the beginning. What happened when you found the body?"
"Okay, well, I was going from room to room checking the teachers' lesson plans like I always do on Monday afternoons. I walked into Robert's room and I just saw him lying there in a huge pool of blood! I've taken First Aid training over and over, so I knew to check his pulse to see if he was still alive or if he needed help. Oh, it was so scary! In all my years, I've never had to actually use that training! I was so scared! I wasn't sure if I was doing it right, because I couldn't get a pulse at all and I didn't want him to be dead! I kept shaking his body hoping he'd wake up, but I finally noticed that he definitely wasn't breathing. So I used the classroom phone to call 911."
"Alright, Ms. Prichard. How was the victim when you found him?"
"He was in front of the whiteboard, on his stomach with blood all around him. So much blood!"
"And was there anything unusual about the room when you went in? Was the door to the room open or closed?"
"The door was wide open, but I didn't really notice anything unusual about the room. It looked like someone had just walked in, shot him, and walked back out."
"Okay, did you hear anything or see anyone suspicious while you were checking lesson plans?"
"I didn't hear anything at all, that's the strange thing. Everyone was outside, the building was surprisingly empty because it's such a nice day outside. I only saw a few people around, but not anyone suspicious."
"Who did you see?"
"Well, I saw Danielle Taylor in the upstairs hallway; she was headed out of the restroom. She said she was staying after for some extra help. I also saw her mother, Mrs. Taylor, in the office lobby on her cell phone. I assume she was looking for Danielle. Mrs. Umberto and Mrs. Kelley were the only other teachers that we still left in the classrooms, all of the others had split early for a conference across town. All of the other students were outside with their club advisors and coaches, who gave a statement to the police saying that all of their students were accounted for."
"Thank you for your time, Ms. Pritchard. You are free to go." Ms. Pritchard nodded and walked down the hall to the front office.
Sara had heard Greg come in while she was giving the interview, and she dreaded going back in that room. Normally she loved working with Grissom and Greg, but today it wasn't going to be much fun. Well, working with Grissom would still be great. She smiled thinking about Grissom, and how he would always have a bug fact or two to share with the team. However, she caught herself as she walked in the door. She didn't want Greg to think the smile was for him.
"Hey guys," she said, walking into the room.
"What'd you find out from the principal?" Grissom pondered.
"Not much, just that there were very few people in the building during the time of the murder. There were two teachers on the second floor, but police said that they checked out there's a security camera on the second floor that showed both of them working on a bulletin board for the past two hours. There was also a mother and daughter, neither of whom was in the main hallway, so they didn't get caught on the security cameras. So our killer is either one of those two or someone who came in from outside."
"Is there a security camera on this hallway?"
"No, it's been broken for some time and the school system hasn't had the money to fix it."
"Well it was likely someone he knew. People don't just walk into a school and kill someone, there's too high a risk of being caught. This guy must have an enemy, that's for sure."
Sara noticed Greg staring at her. They hadn't spoken a word to each other yet, and that was no accident. She was directing all of her knowledge to Grissom and desperately trying to avoid Greg's gaze.
"So, umm, what's going on in here?" she asked.
Greg perked up, "There's nothing very exciting yet, we were looking for any evidence that the shooter even went beyond the doorway. But it's tough in a room like this, because there are prints everywhere. There's no way to narrow down if they are the prints of students or of a killer "
"Or both," Grissom added in, "There are going to be hundreds of prints on this room, and the only prints that we can use are the ones on the doorknob. They'll probably come back as the vic's, though. Nothing else in this room is unusual or can be used as evidence."
"It looks like he was in the middle of erasing the board. He was shot in the back by surprise!" Sara noticed.
"That's my assumption as well," Grissom agreed.
"Mine too," Greg chimed in. Grissom and Sara both looked at him.
"I guess there's not much we can do here. We've documented the scene, let's go down to the lab to see about these fingerprints, test the distance the bullet was shot from, and have a talk with our mother and daughter to see if they know anything."
"Sounds good to me, boss," cheered Greg.
