Feasibility Study
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT
Chapter 71: Wake Up Calls – Part 2
August 21, 2005 (Day 121)
Greg's Apartment
10:00 a.m.
With a vice grip on Greg's left hand, Tawny nervously waited for him to open the front door.
"Dad!" Greg excitedly greeted his father who was wearing, not surprisingly, a pair of crisp khakis and a polo…pale yellow was today's color of choice. He also noted the large white shopping bag and a bouquet of daffodils in his hands. "This is great. So glad you could stop by while you're in town." Almost immediately his stomach started to churn.
"You look great, son," Scott remarked and really meant it. Greg was dressed normally, his hair styled with a modicum of gel, and best of all, he looked happy. "And this must be Tawny." It was immediately apparent to him that his wife had downplayed the girl's beauty and most definitely the size of her chest. "These are for you, Dear." Handing her the flowers he smiled, quite impressed with his son's taste in women…and relieved once more that it was a woman, and not a man, holding his son's hand.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Sanders." Taking the flowers she paused to sniff them. "Thank you, they're beautiful." She didn't know what shocked her more, how much he really did look like Dennis Quaid's slightly older brother, or that he didn't give off the scary, intimidating vibe Greg foreshadowed, but rather a very personable one.
"No need for the formality," He warmly replied. "Just call me Scott."
"Okay." Releasing her grip on Greg's hand she strolled toward the kitchen. "I'll put these in some water."
"Come on in, Dad." Greg moved to the side so his father could enter. One step into the apartment and he noticed a distinct increase in his body's tension. "What's in the bag?"
"Two things from your mother; a bag of your favorite coffee…Kona Diamond Reserve, and…" Reaching in, he pulled out a box. "Krispy Kremes!" He laughed. "She wanted me to prove to Tawny that I could promote tooth decay just as well as the next guy."
Taking the box Greg laughed, "Yeah…gotta love mom…." When you don't want to strangle her! "…for always adding her special touch." He put the box on the counter.
In the kitchen, Tawny giggled, never quite comprehending why Greg was so upset with himself over the donuts. Watching TV and munching on Krispy Kremes in bed after the lovin' was exactly the kind of relaxed intimacy she always craved, but never had from a guy. "There." She set the vase on the counter and started to unpack the grocery bags Greg had left strewn there. "Would you like something to drink, Scott?" She sweetly inquired while Greg escorted his dad to the tidy living room devoid of all things baby-related or frivolous.
"I'd love a glass of ice water because damn it's hot out there." Taking a seat he inquired, "Have you ever been to California in September, Tawny? Because I think you'll enjoy the change in weather when you come to visit."
"I've never been there actually," She answered while pouring water over a tall glass of ice. "Originally that's where I was supposed to go when I…" A nervous smile twittered across her lips. "…moved from Kansas after high school, but driving through, I liked Vegas so much I stayed."
"I bet my son is grateful you did."
Standing in the living room waiting for her Greg nodded. "You bet." When Tawny arrived he kissed her cheek. "Right from our first date we had special something cooking, and shortly thereafter I knew we'd be in it for the long haul."
She smiled at the veiled baby reference while handing Greg's dad the glass.
Scott couldn't help himself. "You have a gorgeous smile, Tawny. Do you whiten regularly?"
"Yep! You get bigger tips when you have a million watt smile."
"Tips? Oh, right, Bev did say you're waiting tables while going to college." Scott paused for a sip then asked, "So…tell me everything. How did you two meet? Your mother has been so busy lately prepping for the new school year she's barely told me anything."
That's when they realized they should have spent less time cleaning the apartment and more time formulating a story.
Greg jumped in with a variation on the truth, substituting Tawny's day job for Tweeters. "We met at The Cheesecake Factory, where she works. Grissom took me there and we bumped into her."
Tawny taunted her donut-bringing lover. "The second he saw me at work, even though I was dressed in my uniform, he was enamored, isn't that right, Greggy? And when he spoke, I was instantly attracted to him."
Wrapping his arms around her from behind he sighed, "Luckily, for once in my life I knew exactly the right thing to say…"
After completing their business at Tweeter's, Grissom pulled Greg aside. "Okay…like I said earlier, because you saved Sara's life last week, and because you're so pent up you're giving me a headache, I'll give you five minutes to talk to her while I pack up the truck." Eyeing the salivating lad cautiously Grissom added, "Remember…don't touch her or give her money because you're on the clock."
"Noted." Chomping at the bit Greg asked, "And you're sure the lines you told me to say will work, because they sound really stupid to me."
"But you're not the audience." Grissom cracked a knowing smile. "Based on my experience with her at The Cheesecake Factory, I'll stake my professional reputation as a profiler on it. If you don't think it's enough then use your wounded puppy-dog look that gets Catherine to give into you when you need something, because Tawny strikes me as a dog lover…definitely not cats."
"Of course not…she's a bird." Greg laughed along with his boss for a moment. "Okay." One giant inhale and exhale later Greg announced, "I'm going in." Jonesin' for a female fix, he really hoped Grissom was right.
When he approached the buxom blonde covered in metallic glitter and dressed only in a g-string made of gold feathers he felt his pulse rise along with his desire. After just completing a lap dance, she was strutting through the room toward the locker room. "Uh…excuse me…Miss…Tawny, right?"
"Is there something you'd like, Cutie?" She postured boldly in front of him. "Because any friend of Gil Grissom's is a friend of mine, just name it."
In wounded puppy mode, he quietly replied, "No, I just wanted to thank you on behalf of LVPD for your cooperation in our investigation. That's all."
"Why so glum, Chum?" Dropping her bravado, she sweetly asked while reading his name off the ID badge around his neck, "Somethin' got you down, Greg Sanders? You looked a lot happier when you came in here earlier. It usually works the other way around."
"Uh…well… yeah." He shifted nervously while dropping Grissom's lines with a few add-ins of his own. "My ex-girlfriend was a stripper so being here is kinda rough." Looking at Tawny he let the desperation build in his eyes. "I loved her something awful, but she dumped me because she thought I was too sensitive. You know...I liked watching romantic movies…like Pretty Woman. I thought my generous trust fund would have been enough to keep her around, but I guess money doesn't matter to some women." And with a puppy-dog expression that would have made Catherine fall to her knees, he delivered the last part. "I've been really lonely and being here isn't helping."
"Awww, your Ex sounds like a first class bitch. A sweet guy like you doesn't need an insensitive chick like that in his life. You should be happy she hit the road." Tawny flashed a friendly smile. "You're way too cute to have to settle or be lonely, Greggy. What time do you finish your shift?"
"Seven," He replied optimistically.
Grabbing a cocktail napkin she asked, "Got a pen?"
"Yeah." Reaching inside his eggplant-colored jacket he grabbed one and handed it over.
"Only because you're with LVPD and a friend of Gil Grissom's do I trust you enough to give you my address." She jotted it quickly along with her cellphone number. "If you want someone to talk to or watch a movie with later, come on over after your shift." Smiling brightly she handed it over. "I hope you will, because I could use a little company too."
Accepting the napkin and the offer he beamed. "I'll bring breakfast. What are your favorite breakfast items?"
"Krispy Kremes…only glazed original though, and an iced mocha latte."
"The girl has good taste." He gushed, happy that things had worked out as Grissom predicted. "So, I'll see you around eight?"
After a quick wink she purred, "Eight it is. Somethin' tells me I've been waiting my whole life to meet you, Greg Sanders, and I doubt either one of us will ever be the same after we spend some quality time together."
Flustered by the knowledge she would be his for the taking he stammered, "Uh…I'm sure…is it eight yet?"
"GREGGO!" Grissom called from across the floor. "We have to roll. I'll meet you outside in sixty seconds."
"Sorry, the boss man beckons." Tucking the napkin in his pocket he started walking backwards. "See you at…"
"OH!" Tawny shrieked as Greg bumped into a waitress causing the woman to spill her tray of drinks on a Japanese businessman's lap.
"Whoa…I'm really sorry. Sorry, Sir. I didn't see the waitress. Sorry!" While the gentleman was cursing at him in Japanese, Greg reached for his wallet. "Do you want me to pay for that?"
The bouncer bounded over and announced, "Put your wallet away, the club will take care of it. You just scurry out of here and get back to your lab, rat."
Greg was bent down picking up the tray when he heard Tawny giggling hysterically. "Lost some cool points for that I bet. Uh oh…you're staring at me funny. You want your napkin back, don't you?" Reaching into his pocket he sighed, "I knew it was too good to be true."
"No, that's not what I was thinking," She sweetly replied. "I was wishing it was eight already."
"Really?" Standing up he returned the note to its place in his jacket and smiled. "I…"
"SANDERS!" Grissom's voice boomed.
"You better go because he's getting really Alpha. Watch where you're walking this time!" Tawny giggled. "And don't forget the donuts! Original for me!"
"I won't!"
Witnessing the affection between them made Scott's lips curve up higher and higher. After watching his son pine for Becca for years, it was nice to see him finally have a girl who appreciated him.
"Greg…" Tawny grabbed his hand. "You have that special surprise to show your dad, remember? The thing you got in the mail. I'll show you where I put it." Tugging her significant other towards the bedroom she said, "We'll be right back."
Once inside the bedroom, Tawny shut the door and threw her arms around Greg's neck. "All that talk about how we met got me remembering how we met!"
"Me too! You know what we had from the moment we met?" Filled with excitement he asked, "What was my major in college?"
"Chemistry!" She shrilled. "And we were oozing it like lava!"
"At the time I was too horny to notice and then later I felt too guilty about feeding you those lines to think about that night, but now that I think about it…I wasn't really lying about much. Except about having an ex-stripper girlfriend who I loved…or a generous trust fund…."
But you have a generous mom with a large checkbook so that's close enough!" Brimming with enthusiasm she told him, "And you really are sensitive, and you really do like watching romantic movies and you really were lonely for someone to share your life with you."
His happiness growing he said, "And you really did want someone to hang out with at home and snuggle while watching TV and…"
"Bring me Krispy Kremes!"
Their mouths met in an urgent kiss as they celebrated the knowledge that they always had something more than a booty call going on.
"Greg!" As things were getting out of hand, Tawny heatedly whispered, "Your dad, remember?"
Laughing he joked, "I'll think of it as payback…he and my mom had sex all the time when I was home in another room, and they were loud. Those two are like rabbits, even now." He grinned. "I'm hoping to emulate that aspect of their marriage in mine one day. Now if only I could find a girl who felt the same."
"Good to know the requirements, in case I'm ever offered the position." Pulling away she retrieved the large white envelope with his good news. "Now, how about I give you a few minutes to bond with your dad over this?"
"Thanks." After stealing one more kiss he took the envelope from her hand and headed for the door.
"Wait!" He had lipstick on his mouth. "Nevermind."
With his envelope of pride in hand Greg sailed into the living room. "Sorry…we were…"
"You have lipstick on your mouth," Scott chuckled. "Your mother and I used to pull that 'we need something in another room' stunt when we were around our folks. Your girlfriend is as sweet and lovely as your mother said, she also said Tawny has excellent fashion sense and I couldn't agree more, that outfit is adorable on her. I'm thrilled to see you so happy in a relationship, Greg."
Wiping away the lipstick Greg realized what Tawny was going to say and why she didn't…she was setting him up for some cool points with his dad. "Happy is an understatement." Then he did a little set-up of his own. "She's the one, Dad. I'm psyched you and mom both like her because she'll be part of the family..."
"I'm not being a kill-joy when I say this." Losing a little levity in his tone Scott cautioned, "It's still very early in the relationship. You're both young, her especially, there's no rush. Take your time and make sure, that way neither one of you end up hurt. Because…"
"Dad…"
"Let me explain where I'm coming from before you jump down my throat." Scott turned to face his son on the couch. "I'm fifty-eight years old. I've seen far too many marriages break up due to incompatibility. I've seen friends rip each other apart in custody battles and almost kill each other trying to sort out who gets the prime timeshare week in Maui. It's horrible. Now, your mother and I really took our time and made sure we were compatible, and look how it's worked out. Sure we have our differences and I know you're painfully aware we've even had a few serious blow ups along the way."
"Over me exclusively, every time." Greg sat deeper against the couch cushions.
"I'm not talking perfection, Greg. I'm talking about the kind of compatibility and respect that will weather the bumps and blow ups. That's what I want for you…a marriage that will last, not one that burns bright for a few years and then burns out. Look at Becca…divorced at twenty-nine after six years of marriage. You won't believe the difference in her when you see her Labor Day weekend. She's turned into a very bitter person."
Recalling how vivacious she always was Greg responded in a deflated tone, "I'm really sorry to hear that."
Scott sighed, "I know I've always had the job of being the heavy when it comes to parenting you, but really, I'm only saying these things because I want you to be happy…not just for a year or six…but to the very end. It's a comforting feeling knowing your mother and I will be there for each other in the golden years." After taking a deep breath he pushed out a smile. "Okay, lecture over. I promise no more for the rest of the visit. And for the record, I'm all for Tawny being the one. Your mother's ringing endorsement is enough for me to give mine. And you know your mother…she's already over the top talking about how you two look so good together, you're bound to produce a beautiful grandchild one day."
"Yeah…um…" Digging deep for the courage to break the news, Greg readied to burst his dad's bubble.
"So what's in the envelope?" Scott prodded. "Looks very official."
"Oh…uh…see, I really did need something in the other room. The kissing was just a perk." Anxious to impress the man, Greg retrieved the contents from the envelope and delayed breaking the pregnancy news. "My first paper is getting published next month. It's about using PCR DNA technology to solve cold cases when evidence is degraded. It's cutting edge; before it was impossible and even now it's having some problems standing up in court. That's why they were so interested in publishing my piece. I used the Rodgers case as my example. You remember me telling you about that one, right?"
"Yes," Scott affirmed while he read the confirmation letter. "Congratulations! I'm very proud of you son." Patting him on the shoulder he said, "We're two cutting edge guys…you're publishing on breakthrough technology and I'm lecturing on a state of the art technology tomorrow."
"Finally we have something in common." Basking in his father's approval felt fantastic and Greg's eyes lit with excitement.
Scott's gaze narrowed. "You really think that we don't have anything else in common? Come on, son..."
"Right…there's more…we both love mom and like her fajitas." He laughed. "And…wait, I'm sure something else will come to me."
"We both like oysters," He joined in the laughter. "As a matter of fact, I made a reservation at the hotel to eat at r.bar.cafe. You mother said she tried their oysters when she stayed at the Mandalay and they were very good."
"Great." On a positive roll, Greg decided to broach the baby topic later.
Chock full of pride Scott said, "So tell me more about this paper so I can brag about my published son at the club next week."
Flying high from his dad's enthusiasm, Greg gladly obliged. "When evidence has been compromised because of inadequate preservation, or like in the Rodgers case, discovered unpreserved years after the crime…"
Jim's Apartment
10:25 a.m.
Standing in front of the stove, Jim busied himself mindlessly scrambling eggs and ham in a pan while Heather finished up her phone call in the living room.
They both fell asleep on the couch the previous night and only woke when Zoe called her mother's cell phone. Once awake he noted three things…a severe headache, a grumbling stomach and an intense appreciation for his lobster.
"Smells delicious," Heather declared when she breezed into the kitchen in her red silk robe. "I'm starving."
"How's your daughter?"
Sighing, she took a seat at the table. "Split with her girlfriend last night. They were together nearly a year. She's okay though. It was mutual. With the new semester starting she'll keep busy and move on."
Sprinkling cheese into the egg mixture, Jim curiously asked, "Do you ever wonder if your frequently verbalized disdain for the weaker male species has anything to do with your daughter being a lesbian?"
Heather chuckled at the amusing thought. "Hell no, if a lack of respect for ninety nine percent of the male population was the determining factor, I would have signed up long ago…and I think we both know I enjoy snuggling up to a man. It's nature, not nurture."
"And not a lack of nurture, which can definitely influence other behaviors."
"No word from Ellie?"
He shook his head as he carried over the pan. "I left her another message last night." He forced a smile. "She's young, she's busy. Why the hell would she want to talk to her boring old man?" He divided the eggs between the two plates on the table. "Enough about that though, I'm too hung-over to want to feel…or think." After returning the pan to the stove, he went to the toaster and snatched the two slices he had browned.
"I'm lucid and have been thinking." Picking up her fork she smiled. "I think it would be best for me to apologize to Sara before you speak with her. If she doesn't have that baggage, I think it will make things easier for you." She watched his reaction as he took a seat. "I meant what I said last night. You're hurting me every day you keep this ruse going, but I take the blame for why it hasn't been easy for you to tell her. Like your drunken friend who hurled on my boots said last night…I was a colossal bitch to Sara. She'll think you insane for wanting anything to do with me."
After swallowing his bite he replied, "Therein lies a healthy chunk of my hesitation."
Resting her fork she adamantly spoke, "I know I have a problem with her, but it's not what you think. I'm not jealous that she has Gil and I don't. Gil and I would never have been compatible over time. It was a pleasant dalliance with no future. And while I think he handled the situation with me shabbily, my animosity toward Sara has nothing to do with his behavior. It's what Sara represents. She's that girl I've known my whole life…the one who instantly has men protecting her and believing in her. Like she's inherently more worthy than me…like my parents felt my sister was so much more deserving of respect than me. I know it's irrational, especially coming from me, someone who proclaims not to need a man…which I don't. It just might be nice to, for once in my life, have a man look at me that way, and be compelled to protect me instead of assuming the worst…even if I would turn around and say thank you, but I can handle this on my own."
In a tender tone he asked, "What makes you think you don't have that now?"
"Lack of opportunity to prove it either way so far?" She tilted her head. "Time will tell I suppose." It was time for deflection. "We've veered from the original topic…your dilemma with Sara."
"Look…I know you want to help, but…" Appreciating the offer he explained, "…I can't honestly imagine Sara giving you the time of day no less five minutes to speak your peace."
"Then I'll write it out and have my written apology couriered to her." Smiling she said, "She's a scientist, her curious mind will force her to read it."
Reaching across the table, Jim gently placed his hand over Heather's. "Thank you. It can't hurt. In return, how about I take you boot shopping later? I'm afraid the tequila infused spew did indeed ruin your best pair. And really, even if they weren't ruined…who wants to be anywhere near Greg's DNA? Speaking of which…" He unfurled a riotous grin. "Now that you've seen Greggo at his best, don't you owe me for denying him tea with you, when you were out to prove something to Sara that night at the dominion? Because I think we both know you weren't going to put him on a leash, but rather leave your bite marks all over him for him to brag about and Sara to see the next day. I had no problem joining the party after Gil, but after Sanders…not a chance in hell."
"When you put it that way, yes, I do owe you." Hiding behind her toast she laughed, "I'll add it to the list."
Mandalay Bay Hotel
Presidential Suite A
10:56 a.m.
"Here you are, Sir." The young man with a nametag that said Wayne announced when they arrived at the 38th floor. "Mr. Grissom is in Suite A. There's no need to tip me, he's taken care of me for the week up front."
"Oh…okay…thank you." As Gil exited the private elevator for the Four Seasons Hotel, which occupied floors 35-39 in the Mandalay Bay's tower, he felt his pulse notch up. Last time his father had a regular suite in the main part of the hotel so the jump to the Presidential was a bit of a shock. It had to be at least $2500 a night. While Gil had an inkling his dad was quite well off, he never suspected that he was this well off. Not that he couldn't have easily looked up the information…he just never wanted to know…until now.
At the door, he decided to pause for a minute and collect his thoughts, but before he could wrestle with the first one, the door to the suite flew open. "Gil!" Angelina exclaimed with excitement. "I'm so happy to meet you. Your father has told me all about you. He's on a business call." Shifting her weight to one hip she rolled her eyes. "I know, it's Sunday and he's retired so how can that be? I'll tell you how…because he has an incompetent man running the show for him in Atlanta, when he should have promoted Darlene Reynolds. If Darlene was running the show your father could play a lot more golf."
"I'm sorry…" Gil gaped at the spirited woman who he guessed was in her late 50's, with her black hair piled whimsically on top of her head, wearing a loud flowery blouse, a white skirt, modest heels and a lot of gold jewelry. "…who are you?"
As she huffed she turned to shoot Ron a look. "Guero! You didn't tell him about me?" When she saw he had just ended his call she continued her tirade. "Nice going old man! Your son probably thinks I'm La Puta Nueva!" She returned her irritated brown eyes to Gil's confused blue ones. "I'm not young enough or blonde enough to fill that role…and I'm much too smart." Extending her hand she introduced herself properly. "I'm Angelina Maria Cruz Valera, your father's savior…also known as the head housekeeper and chef. I keep his world running and remind him to tie his shoes. Please…come inside."
"Oh…" Gil processed the information quickly. "Nice to meet you. He did mention you in several conversations, but not your name or description."
Ron hurried over to meet them in the center of the living room. "Sorry I couldn't provide a proper introduction. Angelina will be relocating with me to Vegas. That's why I got the Presidential Suite this time…so she could have her own wing, just like at home in Boca."
Stepping inside the six-thousand square foot suite Gil marveled at the décor. "Sara would love this," He remarked as he took it all in. "Rich wood, warm tones…overstuffed sofa and chairs. It's her cup of tea."
"Then you should bring her by soon." Ron grinned excessively. "Ready to go see my future digs? Lina, would you…"
"Already did." She headed for the bar. "The limo driver is waiting downstairs." At the bar she grabbed two bottles of cold water. "Drink these on the way down in the elevator, it's hot out there."
"We don't need to take your limo, Dad," Gil countered. "I can drive."
"The limo isn't mine. The realtor sent it. She'll be offended if we don't arrive in it." He gently slapped his boy on the back. "Relax…a little indulgence doesn't hurt."
Angelina choked on her laughter as she handed over the bottles of water. "But a lot of indulgence gets you a foot long scar on your chest eh, Guero?" She knew her eyes were showing more than she wanted a smart man like Gil to see, and yet she couldn't help herself.
His eyes bright, Ron looked at Gil. "I love how she keeps me grounded in reality. Not a day goes without her reminding me of my previous life as a raging asshole. You should see what she says to me when a young buxom blonde walks by…Lina didn't care much for the third Mrs. Grissom. She has a special term of endearment for her as a matter of fact."
"Speaking of walking." Angelina strolled over to get the door. "Tick tock. You have to view the property and get back here for lunch. You don't want to eat too late because Gil has an appointment to keep at two, remember? I'll have a nice light meal waiting for you. Have a nice time."
In a deep observation mode Gil quietly followed his father to the door and once they were alone and halfway down the hall his curiosity got the best of him. "Are the two of you a couple? Because it seemed rather…"
"What? Lina and me?" Ron shook his head vehemently. "Unfortunately no. She's way too smart, and knows far too many horrible and ridiculous things about me to ever be interested. Besides…she works for me. That's never a good idea."
Gil's face exploded into a smile. "Sometimes it works out."
At the elevator Ron asked, "What did you think of her?"
"Honestly?" He chuckled heartily. "The knowledge that she calls you out daily for being a raging asshole in your previous life made me an instant fan."
"I had a feeling you'd find that her most endearing quality."
Desert Springs Church
11:10 a.m.
Standing on the field outside the church, Carrie and Catherine watched their guys, who were now wearing their picnic clothes, playing volleyball with Ryan and Lindsay as well as a bunch of other church members. "So Catherine…" Carrie felt it was time to drop the bomb. "In a drunken confession, Greg told me it was you who ratted out Nick and me about the pool house."
"Fornicator," She snapped before laughing. "Maybe you could have stayed awake in church if you weren't going at it all night."
Leaning over, Carrie happily informed her nemesis, "We found evidence of another incident in the pool house that night. We swabbed it, we're testing it…and you're going down. Nicky and I only took out a couch cushion. Your evidence was found on the carpeting. Our germphobe friend Sara will probably want it replaced."
Hands on her hips Cath squawked, "What, did you go out there with the ALS and scan the area?"
"Yep." She cackled.
"First time I've really liked you, Blake." Catherine eyed her with pride. "You've always been a little too stiff for my taste, but now that I know you like a good romp in the pool house as much as the next girl, and that you're capable of taking and giving shit, I think we have a brighter future." Softening her expression she added, "Plus it's blatantly obvious that you're making Nick happier than he's ever been so…I'm glad you're around."
"Good, because I'm not going anywhere."
"Did I ever tell you I made a bet with Sanders that day in the courthouse when you and Nick met? Yeah, the second I heard the part about you getting death threats in relation to your prosecution of that case in Seattle cracking down on some wacko church group molesting kids, I bet Greg a hundred bucks you'd be engaged to Nick by Christmas. I never thanked you for that. I bought a blouse with it."
"You had inside information about Nick that Greg didn't," Carrie informed her through a smile. "Not exactly a fair bet."
"I'm old-time Vegas…I'm not too proud to stack the deck."
"I'd be more willing to turn the other cheek if you had bought shoes instead of a blouse."
Just then McKenna approached sniffling and wiping her tears.
"What's wrong, Sweetie?" Carrie knelt down to look her in the eyes.
"Uncle Nick forgot all about me."
Catherine gave the girl a sympathetic nod. "You're not the first girl to shed a tear after being forgotten by your Uncle Nick, I'm sure of it."
Shaking her head at the joke, Carrie took her niece's hand and stood. "Where's Sean? I thought he said he'd play catch with you?"
"He's tied up in the park across the street." She sniffled harder.
"That's not nice. What's he busy doing?"
Staring at her aunt she explained it again. "Nothing, because he's playing with some boys and they tied him to a tree and he can't move."
"Nick!" Carrie shouted in a frantic tone. "I need you!"
Warrick turned to his pal and said under his breath, "Whatcha gonna do, man? This place doesn't have a pool house."
Laughing, he gave his buddy a shove. "You're standing on church grounds, 'Rick. Watch your mouth." Jogging away he joked, "There's always the bathroom at the convenience store across the street! Do you think that's out of lightning bolt range?"
Lindsay glared at Warrick who was still laughing at his friend's dirty joke. "I heard that." Then she screamed. "OW!"
Having watched her get nailed in the head with the volleyball, Warrick teased, "Thou shalt not eavesdrop! That ball was a wake up call from above." Giving her a playful shove he laughed. "Now, Linds…how many times do I have to tell you to keep your eye on the ball at all times? Hey…look who's laughing at you on the other side of the net." Feigning his best teen girl shriek he yelled, "Oh my gosh, it's JAKE!"
Turning red she groaned, "Pops…you're on my last nerve today."
"You reminded me of your mother just now. You're turning into mini-Cath."
"Don't you dare say that!" She shrieked, horrified by the thought that she was anything like her mom.
Across the field, Nick approached smiling. "Hey, Kenna Girl." He scooped her up. "I told you I'd be back after the game."
Catherine snarked, "Yeah well, maybe she heard about your reputation on the street and didn't put much stock in it." Then she felt Carrie's glare. "Bad time for a joke. Sorry, it's my coping mechanism."
"It's not McKenna, it's Sean I'm worried about," Carrie informed him. "She says he's tied up in the park across the street. Can you go check it out? Paul is inside the church with the pastor getting stuff ready for lunch and Wendy is busy changing Ashley."
Instantly concerned he said, "Take Kenna and I'm there."
Snatching the girl out of her fiancé's arms she hugged her tight while watching Nick dart toward the busy street. "I can't believe you crossed that street and walked over here alone. What did I tell you about wandering off? A stranger could take you and hurt you. Promise me you won't do that again. Promise me!"
Catherine placed a hand on Carrie's back. "Hey, now…go easy. I know where you're coming from, but you're scaring her."
When she realized her niece was sobbing she soothed, "Sorry, Sweetie. Aunt Carrie is scared, not mad." Gently she kissed the top of her head. "Sorry."
Meanwhile, across the street Nick spotted Sean on the ground in a remote area roped to a tree. "What happened?" He asked while rapidly scanning the area. "Who did this? Are they still here?" Bending down he worked quickly to undo the knots. "Was it someone from youth group?"
"No," He groaned as his head hung in embarrassment. "Jocks from school came by and started razzing me. I didn't even say anything to annoy them this time." Free from the ropes he shook out his hands. "Hey…you did that fast."
As he uncoiled the rope from around Sean's body Nick explained, "My big brother had a wicked sense of humor. When I was seven, he and his buddies used to tie me up and leave me in different places on my parents' ranch. Then they'd leave a note for the housekeeper sayin' they'd tell her where I was only if she made them cookies and left them in the tree house. Unfortunately for me, the housekeeper was the youngest of nine kids growing up and she thought it was hilarious too…like she was getting some kind of vicarious payback. The best part…sometimes she baked the cookies, and sometimes she wouldn't."
"She doesn't sound like a very responsible employee."
"Yeah, well…I never had a lot of luck with people my parents hired to watch over me. Housekeepers, babysitters…but it was a different time back then, people trusted others a lot more. Now though, forget it. When your aunt and I have kids I'm running background checks worthy of the CIA, let me tell you. Full psychological profiles, the works. Wackjobs need not apply."
"Mean people suck." Sean leaned against the tree. "I know that's a bad word, but right now I don't care."
"I won't tell."
"So that's how you learned how to untie knots so fast?"
With the rope gathered in his hands he affirmed, "It happened enough that I had plenty of practice trying to free myself. Turns out most people who aren't sailors or devout boy scouts can't tie a good knot…not one that lasts if you know what you're doing to break out. Here's how I got their little game to stop." A smirk jumped up on his face. "One day I freed myself and left a note saying I'd been kidnapped…left it right where my brother had left me. Then I hid so I could watch for him." He started laughing at the happy memory. "So my brother eventually comes looking for me and sees the note. He freaks out…totally flips. Because even though he was an ass to me ninety-nine percent of the time, he loved me. So he's screaming and his friends beat it home knowing the shit's gonna hit the fan…sorry, bad word."
"I won't tell," Sean quipped, finally feeling a little better.
"Thanks." Grinning, Nick continued the story. "My brother rushes into the house and I'm trailing him real stealthily. The unscrupulous housekeeper starts having a nervous breakdown because she has to call my mom at work and tell her what happened. After they confess on the phone to my mom, I pop up and yell…that'll teach ya! Then I grab the phone and tell my mom what's been goin' on."
A slight smile appeared on Sean's face. "So what happened to the housekeeper and your brother after that?"
"The housekeeper was given her walking papers ASAP, and my brother was grounded for a month including no sports, which just about killed him. Later of course he beat the crap out of me, but it was worth it because he missed qualifying for the state championship little league game and his team ended up winning." Grabbing his cell phone he announced, "Let me call Carrie real quick because she was worried." When she answered he said, "Everything's fine and, Honey, let's keep it quiet over there. We'll be back soon." Then he tucked the phone away.
"Thanks for telling her to keep it quiet."
Taking a seat next to the embarrassed boy Nick empathized, "I know you think I'm a jock…" He saw the boy's eyeroll. "Rephrasing…okay, I am a jock, and yes, I watch Sportscenter…but I watch the Discovery Channel too, just so you know. Being a jock doesn't define me. Do you really believe your aunt would marry a guy who had nothing else going other than sports? And what about Grissom? You think he'd promote me to supervisor if I was just the brainless jock you seem to think I am?" He shook his head. "Sean, you only see me when I'm decompressing from my job. After a long week I tool around because my mind needs a break. And I'm sorry, I know I'm guilty of spending a lot of time with your brother, but you have to meet me half way. Every time I'm around, you hole up with a book. It's been easier for me to connect with Ryan because he…"
"Never thinks and loves tossing balls." Sean covered his mouth. "Sorry."
"Yeah…I know you like learning about bugs from Grissom, but I gotta tell you, there's a lot of other stuff you should learn from him too. He's taught me so much over the years and I'm not much of a bug guy. For instance, he's the least judgmental person I've ever met and in that respect I wish I could be more like him." Nick calmly pointed out, "You don't like people pegging you as a geek because you like to read a lot, right? Well then, you shouldn't go around thinking a guy who loves sports isn't anything more than a vapid jock. Even in your brother's case where all outward evidence points to that conclusion." He grinned. "By the way, I tossed vapid in there because I thought it would impress you that I knew the word."
Sean smiled, enjoying the first bonding moment he ever shared with his future-uncle, compared to his brother who had dozens already. Making sure he included the authoritative nod he announced, "Got it."
"Nice." Pleased with the comfort level building between them Nick continued, "Anyway, my point was, I'm a jock now, but, I know what's it's like to be the picked on kid. I know what it's like to feel bullied by someone bigger and stronger than you, trust me, I can empathize. It sucks…to use your foul mouth language. So you can come to me with this stuff without feeling embarrassed, okay?"
"Okay." Sean, finally getting past the rope incident, chuckled. "Think you can show me how to undo knots in case I'm ever in this position again? Maybe give me lessons on…wait, just so we're clear…only if you won't tell my dad about it. He has enough to worry about with his new promotion and taking care of mom and us kids. With all the business travel, he's really stressed out. And what's the point, he'll just feel bad and overcompensate and then my brother will get jealous and take it out on me…well, you know all about what brothers can do to you, so let's keep this between you and me."
"Sure, that's cool." Nick grinned when Sean did the same. "And yeah, I'll bestow all my knot knowledge on you, as well as a few more tricks…some easy self-defense stuff that doesn't take two-hundred pounds of ripping muscle to pull off." Placing a hand on his shoulder he continued, "But not right now, because your aunt is waitin' and worrying." As they stood he commented, "This part of your life, although it's as annoying as hell when it's happening, it's just a drop in the bucket. It'll pass. My friend Warrick had a rough time of it when he was your age and look at him now. You think a lot of people give him crap?"
"Not too many, no." Sean grumbled, "See…sometimes I wish I could disappear and come back when I'm grown up…preferably at a height of six four, with shoulders and biceps worthy of intimidating most people."
"All in good time." Nick threw his arm around the boy's shoulders. "Besides, if you disappear, you might blow your shot with Lindsay."
"She hates me," He grumped. "Mr. Grissom told me I should come to you for advice on girls, but when I listened to you it didn't go so well."
"First off, don't worry about the hate thing…that's often an excellent place to start." Nick chuckled. "I'm sure you've heard the phrase, there's a fine line between love and hate." As they headed out of the park he began a new lesson. "I think I gave you just enough information to be dangerous earlier, so now I'll start at the beginning. And I'm giving you Nick Stokes version 2005, in case anyone, like my friend Catherine, tries to point out prior deficits in my relationships with women."
Hoping all hope wasn't lost with Lindsay, Sean was all ears.
"Rule number one…respect girls at all times. You have two sisters. You wouldn't want them treated badly by a guy, so why treat someone else's sister badly? Besides…you never know if the girl has a brother who could pound you into the ground."
"Did that ever happen to you?"
"Coincidently, right before I came up with rule number one."
Elite Properties Limousine
11:18 a.m.
When the limo pulled up in front of the magnificent four million dollar estate, Gil stared at his father. "This is what you call a house?" The Presidential Suite was jarring, but this was a wake up call of epic proportion.
"It's smaller than my one in Boca," He rationalized before laughing. "I have to keep Lina in the style she's accustomed to or she might leave me."
When the driver opened the door Gil followed his father out while trying to shake the surreal feeling of the situation.
"Mr. Grissom." The realtor, Ann Peters, a vivacious blonde sixty-two year old, rushed over with a cheery smile and an outstretched hand. "So glad you decided to take a second look. And is this handsome man the son you were going about?"
"Yes, my son, Gil."
"I recognize you from the news," Ann recounted. "You're with the crime lab, right?"
"Yes." Gil shook her hand while staring at the large ceramic lions guarding the entrance to the property. "Nice to meet you."
Waving the men to follow she said, "Gil, since you're with LVPD, you should be intrigued by two features of the home…it has a hidden panic room as well as an indoor armor plated rifle range."
Glancing at his father Gil sarcastically remarked, "Gee…I wonder who owned this house? And I wonder why he pulled up stakes so fast he's selling it furnished?"
Ron weighed in with his theory. "I bet the owner was a raging asshole his whole life but suddenly reconnected with his estranged son and now that he's been graciously given a second chance to be a part of his boy's life, he's selling this estate to relocate closer to his son and daughter-in-law."
Gil rolled his eyes. "Sounds a little far-fetched. I would think he'd at least wait and see if things worked out before making such a permanent change."
Ron smiled. "Don't read anything into this but, I'm not selling my Boca property. It's not that I'm planning for failure, the accountant said I needed to hold onto it for tax purposes. I figure I'll use it as a vacation home and leave it in trust to my grandkid or grandkids, depending how many Sara eventually gets out of you."
Just as Gil was about to blow, the realtor announced in a sunny tone, "I'll wait in the kitchen for the two of you. If you have any questions, just use the intercom that's wired throughout the house."
"Thank you," Ron nodded. "Come on, Gil…I can't wait to show you the lagoon pool."
Once outside Gil voiced his concern. "What do you mean you'll leave it in trust for your grandkid or grandkids? I don't want my kids given this place. Do you have any idea what becomes of kids who are spoiled with this level of wealth? I've seen enough of them dead from OD'ing in penthouse parties…no thanks."
"You think every child of privilege fills their nose with coke and sleeps until sunset?" Ron chuckled, "You're stereotyping. Anyway…like I said, I'll leave it in trust. The terms are negotiable. I can make them earn their Master's first, whatever you want. Or I can leave it all to you and you can do what you do best…give my money to the charity of your choice. I'm not going to push this on your or your children if that's what you're concerned about. Okay? So can we relax and just look at the place? Come on…I'll show you the game room."
"This is insane." Gil muttered as he entered the marble foyer and took in the opulence. Overwhelmed, he looked for some humor in the situation and much to his relief he quickly found something. "I can't wait to rub it in Catherine's nose that my daddy is richer than hers. She'll hate that."
As Ron led the way he mused, "Great party house. If you ever want to have your friends over, just say the word."
While trying to comprehend the enormity of his father's fortune he joked, "I don't know, they're kind of picky. Does it have a pool house?"
Big Bill's Grill
12:22 p.m.
Standing at the counter waiting their turn, Sara and Jas perused the menu on the wall.
"What are you getting?" Jas asked since she was torn between the vegetarian grilled sandwich and the Caesar salad.
Salivating, Sara answered in a dreamy tone, "Santa Fe Chicken sandwich."
"Chicken?" The answer shocked the fellow vegetarian. "But…"
"I started eating it last week." She beamed. "Out of the blue."
"Could you be pregnant?" Jas inquired.
"What makes you think that?" Sara hoped the answer would fuel her suspicions.
"Because my vegetarian cousin started craving beef for the first time in her life right after she conceived. And you know cows are off limits in my culture. When my uncle busted her sneaking a burger, my relatives sleeping half way across the world in Bombay woke up from his scream."
"Whoa."
"Then she told him she was carrying his first grandchild and it was a boy." Jas shook her head, "The hypocrite took her out for a steak dinner that night citing it was necessary to preserve the future generation."
"Next," The clerk shouted.
Grinning, Sara gleefully placed her poultry order. "Santa Fe chicken sandwich combo, please. Oh…and a pickle."
Next Series Installment: Losing It
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Maggs