Catherine had her mouth open in shock at the outburst from someone she had pegged as timid. She glanced at Nick, who shot her his own confused, almost amused expression. Bob Fulton for his part was wringing his hands in front of him, the color in his face changing from red to white.

"I-I'm so sorry. I'm just very nervous," Bob fumbled with his words.

Nick smiled, "It's all right, Mr. Fulton. We want to thank you for your time."

The three shook hands all around and Bob exited the interview room. Nick looked at Catherine with an innocent expression on his face. "Don't even say it."

Catherine smiled. "You've got a way with these people, Nicky. Must be all that ex-jock charisma."


Back at the lab both CSI's headed towards the break room. Catherine went to one of the cabinets and grabbed a bottle of aspirin and two tablets. She then filled up a cup of water and went over to Nick who was slouching in one of the empty couches, his eyes closed.

"Take these," Catherine commanded, and the other CSI accepted the offered items.

"Thanks." He replied, draining half of the water and swallowing the medicine.

Catherine was about to make another comment when David came bounding into the room. "Hey guys, I've been looking for you."

David handed Catherine a sheet of paper he was carrying. "I've got your tox screen back on Walter Davis."

Catherine looked at the offered report. "Yeah, David. Anything interesting?" She didn't have to ask the assistant coroner, he wouldn't be searching for them if it wasn't important to the case.

David smiled. "Yeah, he tested positive for androgenic steroids."

Nick walked over to the duo, finishing the rest of his glass of water. " David, that's not abnormal. A lot of these muscle men like to improve their performance. Build up mass and all that."

David looked at the CSI. "Yeah, I know that. But this guy was taking something like 200 times more than the normal dose."

Nick looked shocked. "What?" He retrieved the report out of Catherine's hands and scanned the results. "According to this he had 2000 milligrams of Parabolan." Nick shot Catherine an astonished expression, shaking his head.

Catherine folded her arms across her chest. "OK, that sounds like a lot. You want to clue me in some more?"

Nick nodded, knowing he was carrying on with a subject that his boss was unfamiliar with. "Androgenic steroids are prescription only. Athletes use them to stimulate higher levels of blood so they can increase output of the liver, lungs and kidneys. Stuff like that."

Catherine nodded.

Nick continued with his lesson. "The results from taking steroids in cycles is increased muscle mass and higher levels of energy when needed. At the levels he was taking he must have been trying to muscle up very quickly or was pumping himself up almost on a daily basis. Then you also risk serious damage to your body. Decreased sex drive, liver, kidney damage, insomnia, mood swings, so called 'roid rage', nose bleeds, muscle tears."

Catherine tried to digest all the new information. "You said this stuff is only by prescription. Who would have access to large amounts of steroids?"

Nick clicked his lower jaw. "And who would benefit? The gym would be a perfect source of people who would want some of this stuff."

Catherine arched an eyebrow. "You know Roger Sikes is a very big boy. Could be the type of guy to be using this stuff heavily. He's short tempered and oversees all the operations of the gym."

"He'd be the perfect dealer," Nick summed up.

Catherine shook her head, speaking sarcastically. "Who would have thought we'd find a connection between a gym and steroids. It might not have anything to do with the case, but it's an interesting lead."

David, who had remained to listen in on the discussion, laughed. "Steroids do have some useful medical applications. They help put muscle mass back on AIDS patients, and even the protein power shakes Nick here drinks are a form of steroids."

Nick rolled his eyes. "I also follow a healthy diet with those, mind you."

Catherine snickered. "Please Nick. None of us eat right around here." She held out her hand to cut his protest off. "When's the last good meal you ate this week?"

Defeated, Nick tilted his head to his side in acquiescence. During their discussion Jim Brass walked into the break room.

The Detective held out a file as if it held some secret contents as he rocked back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet. He had that playful look about him, which only meant he had interesting news.

"What's up, Jim?" Catherine asked him, intrigued by his arrival.

Jim fiddled with his own set of files, "I did a little digging in all the employee files that were provided to us, and then I hit the phones and some of the newspapers."

"And..." Catherine asked.

"It would seem that almost everyone who works at Gold's Gym all went to the same high school. Michelle Wilson was head cheerleader; Brian Olsen and Walter Davis were on the baseball team." Jim looked over at Nick. "Your buddy Roger Sikes was head of the football team, and it goes on and on."

"One little happy family," Nick said, glancing on the files. "We're talking about personnel that have known each other for a long time. Interesting."

"What's interesting is that a few months ago a Mike Ross was killed in a car accident a few miles form the Gym; and he was not only co-captain of the same football team of Roger Sikes, but he was the first member of the gym."

"You got the autopsy report on Ross?" Catherine asked, her mind racing in several directions.

"Sure do." Jim handed another folder to Catherine as Nick continued scavenging the rest of the staff reports from the gym.

Catherine read over the details. According to the report, Mike Ross had been driving his Lexus back home after working out. It had been very rainy, and there were reports of flashfloods. It was concluded that Mike loss control of his car and crashed into a telephone pole. Catherine skimmed through the autopsy results: typical head trauma, but with any case dealing with a fatality during a car accident, a tox screen had been run. Mike Ross had tested positive for androgenic steroids.

Catherine traded reports with Nick and he read over the results. Mike Ross showed early signs of liver damage from the results of long term use of steroids. He had close to 1000 milligrams in his system, and the coroner had discovered track marks from injection sites.

"Something is definitely going on other than exercising at that place," Nick said, shaking his head.

"Yeah. Well..." Jim was about to add some additional insight when his cell phone rang. He answered it and walked to the other side of the room to get a little privacy while the others continued talking.

Catherine sat down on the couch that Nick had vacated and started running through things they needed to get done. She'd go over dayshift's reports and speak to whomever had worked on Mike Ross's case to see if there was any hint of foul play. She'd have Jim and Nick interview Roger Sikes about the improbability that he could've been swimming during the time that Walter Davis was killed.

Nick was still studying the results of the tox screen. He began wondering where the steroid sales and use fit into this puzzle. Maybe the tension between Walter Davis and Roger Sikes had nothing to do with the dating habits of Michelle Wilson. Nick decided that he should focus on the steroid use. Maybe one of the employees had access to a pharmacy; or even better, one of their clients could be a doctor.

Both CSI s were deep in thought when Jim returned from his phone call. "Now talk about interesting. That was Nancy Brookes, the receptionist that I interviewed. She really wants to talk to me about something pertaining to the case, but she can't come in till she gets off work."

"When is that?" Catherine asked.

"She said she'd be over around 11 p.m.," Jim replied, staring at his watch. "I spoke with the owner of the gym and she's sending Roger Sikes over here for his interview."

"I want in on that one," Nick spoke up.

Catherine gave him a warning look. "No more macho head butting."

Nick gave her an offended expression. "Now why would I be involved in anything like that?"


Nick and Jim sat across from Roger Sikes. The CSI was feeling a little better, as his headache seemed to have subsided with the copious amounts of aspirin he had taken. Hopefully after the interview he'd be able to grab a few minutes in an empty office to lay down. He couldn't remember this week when he had strung together more than three hours of sleep at a time. Maybe Catherine was right: he shouldn't have gone over to his gym to observe the swimmers at the pool. But then he wouldn't have any data to bunk Sikes' alibi.

Roger was wearing another pair of sweat pants and was sporting a long sleeved T-shirt. His muscles bulged under the tight cotton, but then again it was probably the point of wearing such a garment. Nick noticed that the man's eyes and skin color had a slight yellow tint. He hadn't observed this before, but then again they were in a well lit room now and Nick was looking for tale tell signs of steroid abuse.

Roger Sikes gave both men a smug smile. "You know, Stokes, I may have been wrong about you the other day. Maybe you could benefit from some of our faculties. I'd be glad to give you tips to improve your size. Maybe even bulk you up a bit more."

Nick sensed this new tact, and decided to follow along for a while, just to set the mood. Then he'd hit Ox-man with some serious questions. "Yeah, well, I think I do all right for myself."

Roger laughed as if they were having a casual conversation over dinner. "So, I take it you played ball in college?"

"Yeah, fourth string linebacker for Texas A&M."

"Hmmm, I'm guessing your glory days were mainly in high school, I'd imagine. You're a little too short to handle yourself in college."

Jim Brass for his part kept quiet, and let Nick and the muscle man trade verbal jabs for a while. He knew that Sikes was just trying to get a rise out of the CSI under the pretense of talking sports.

"I was busy playing on the baseball team, rushing for a fraternity and graduating at the top of my class for any serious time on the field," Nick shot back with a smirk.

"I guess not everyone can ride on a full sports scholarship like I did, I suppose," Sikes retorted with a thinly veiled sneer.

"But you're here and not on a pro team. What happened, Roger, couldn't reach your full potential?" Nick asked in a lower voice, his Texan accent a bit thicker.

Sikes laid his massive hands on the desk and tensed the muscles in his arms. "I'm in better shape now than I ever was. My full potential has been reached, while you continue to be an ex-jock wannabe."

Nick shook his head and decided it was time to steer the conversation back to the case. He leaned towards the suspect, his voice stern. "I know you're in excellent physical shape, but Roger. No one can swim 20 laps in under 60 minutes. Even Olympic swimmers can't keep that pace."

Roger Sikes seemed slightly taken aback from that statement. He straightened his massive frame till he was sitting perfectly upright in his chair. "I was swimming from 11 to midnight."

"You got anyone who can verify you were in the pool during that time?" Nick asked, not taking his eyes off the suspect.

Sikes leaned back in his chair. "Nope."

"But it's impossible for anyone to swim the amount of laps you claim you did," Nick pressed on.

"What we're saying here, just in case you can't connect the dots, is that you're lying, Mr. Sikes. You weren't in that pool during the time you claim you were," Jim chimed in, participating with his "bad cop" routine.

"Maybe I didn't take as many laps, as I said. Doesn't mean anything," Roger back-pedaled.

"Maybe? If I recall, you said you swim 20 laps every time you enter the pool. Which is it? Are you lying about being in the pool, or are you lying right now?" Nick asked, pressing his hands down on the desk as he stared Sikes down.

Roger leaned forward, matching the CSI's stare. "I don't recall. You can't prove it either way. Not that it matters; I had nothing to do with Walter's death."

"Maybe you don't. Do you by chance have anything to do with all the steroid use going on in the gym?" Nick asked, now inches away from the jock's face.

Roger Sikes was breathing heavily now; it looked all the world like he was actually trying to reign in his temper. "No, I don't have anything to do with steroids. What the hell does that have to do with Walter's death?"

Jim decided to start pushing his own buttons. He laid out tox screen reports on the table. "Maybe it's because Walter Davis tested positive for heavy amounts of steroids, and showed signs of chronic use. He's an employee of yours. What, you keep finger prints but don't run drug tests?"

Roger Sikes scrunched up his face, his eyes narrowed at both men. He remained quiet.

Jim decided to ante up. "We also know one of your ex-football buddies from high school was killed in a car accident a few months ago; he also tested positive for heavy steroid use. You know, it's illegal to be distributing or possess such things without a prescription."

"I don't touch that shit."

Brass looked at him pointedly. "Really? Never?"

Nick seemed to drag himself back into the conversation. "Would you volunteer to a blood test? Of course to verify your claim?"

Roger Sikes got up, pushing his chair out of the way. He seemed to tower above both investigators. "No, I won't."

Nick slowly rose from his seat. "Why's that?"

Roger placed his hands on the desk. "Because you want it. This has nothing to do with Walter's death. You're just fishing."

Nick tilted his head to the side and slowly nodded. "You're right, we can't make you give us a sample. But Michelle Wilson can."

Roger Sikes looked confused for a moment, and he bit down on his bottom lip. "What are you talking about?"

Nick gave him one of his million dollar smiles, knowing it would unnerve the guy. "She's the owner of the gym. And as one of her employees, you have to consent to a drug test whenever she requests it. Since I talked to her in advance, she agreed to signing a document ordering you to comply."

Roger Sikes walked around the table to where Nick stood, staring at the man coldly. Jim Brass got out of his chair as a precaution. The tension in the room was just a little too high for his comfort.

Nick however, continued to push the mammoth man's buttons. "So, what will it be? You going to pee in a cup here? Or should we wait for Michelle to come over with a signed document and you can do it for her instead?"

Roger Sike's face was grim, his squared jaw set. He looked down at the floor, as if he was weighing his options. Nick glanced over at Brass to gave him a nod, knowing they would get exactly what they wanted tonight. The Ox-man raised his head and shook it.

He looked at the CSI. "You're a real sonofabitch, you know?" Then he reared back his left fist and swung it at Nick's face.

Nick had quick reflexes and stepped away from the powerful swing. He then used the muscled man's own momentum to push him towards the wall, grabbed his right hand and yanked behind the jock's massive back. Nick kept Sike's arm pinned behind him as Jim rushed over to lend a hand as the tired CSI struggled to keep the brawnier man still. Two uniforms rushed into the room at the sound of the commotion.

Brass and the other officers had Roger Sikes handcuffed before Jim turned the man around and stared at him. "I warned you buddy. At least you saved your self a trip in the car. You're under arrest for attempted assault."

Nick watched Jim read the ape man his rights as Sikes cursed at both of them and demanded to see a lawyer. Nick watched this from the corner of the room, until he saw Catherine's serious expression staring at him from out in the hall. Knowing he was going to get lectured for egging the suspect on, Nick braced himself for a confrontation.

Catherine Willows did not seem happy. Nick was going to apologize but she cut him off with a deadly look. "We'll talk about this in a while. Right now we have another DB at Gold's gym."

Nick wasn't expecting that kind of news, and looked at his boss with a confused expression. "What? Who?"

Catherine crossed her arms in front of her. "It's Nancy Brookes, the receptionist who was coming down here later."

TBC...


Thanks to everyone that left me comments and feedback. Its a joy to know that people enjoy your work. I appreciate it very much!

Designation

I love your writing as well! You're very insightful and have that wonderful psychological edge to your work. Thanks for your comments, and the updates will always been regular

Cuddy Cabin

Thanks for your uplifting comments! There will be lots of chapter, about twice as many as Walk in the Woods. As far as Cath and Nick..well this is a friendship story. However, I've never rule out future story ideas. I'm thinking of tacking a little romance sometime soon.

sokerfreek922

Hehe, I can't give you any clues about the story, however I write angst, so no one is safe including out favorite CSI!

c1

Its good to see you again! As always I appreciate your feedback. I'm glad to know that my character interaction is realistic in this. As a writer my main goal is to be as true as possible. I tried a certain grouping of characters in my last fic and I wanted to try to give Cath a whirl in this one. I also enjoyed writing Brass in this.

mudhousejunkie

Thanks for your support. I hope this story meets your expeactions. There is more build up and I tired a little more complex plot. Hope you enjoy it.

P.L. Wynter

Hey again! Yes, Nick is my fav as well. Can you tell? There just not enough Nick centered stories, I'll try to help in that area!