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Chapter Five

Sheriff Doublon and Grissom sat in the sheriff's office. The sheriff had pulled a bottle of Gentleman Jack out of his desk. He set two jelly jar glasses in front of the Vegas visitor and poured two fingers of the smooth, brown liquor in each.

"Sheriff," Gil said in respect and raised his glass in a salute. He felt a little odd drinking liquor out of a small glass that was labeled "Bama Grape Jelly" and had an illustration of a dinosaur on the back. It was labeled as 2 of 6 in the collection. "Collect all 6!"

"Please, call me Jimmy," the sheriff said, raising his own glass, number 5 of the collection. Gil briefly wondered if the other jelly jars were at the sheriff's home.

"You know, back in Las Vegas I often have drinks with another Jim. I believe you would have a lot in common," Gil said.

"I'll take that as a compliment. I really appreciate your help in this matter. Though I can't help but think that it might have been easier all around if we had just continued thinking this was a case of allergic reaction to yellow jackets. Once Mel noticed the lividity was off, we couldn't ignore it." He looked at the clock and sighed, pouring himself another two fingers of whiskey.

"She's very smart. Whether I had come up here to identify the ant or not, she would have figured this out," Gil said. "I could use someone like her in Vegas."

"Yeah, Mel's a pit bull when it comes to this stuff. She's always coming to me with seminars or journals. She has a lot of good ideas. If I could get it into the budget, would you mind if she came out to Vegas sometime? Rode with your crew and learned more about what true CSI's do?" Jimmy asked. Gil nodded.

"I would be glad to let her come out. It is not unheard of for us to bring CSI from other areas into our lab," he said, thinking particularly of one who had come and stayed. "She's very young, isn't she? She tries hard to be thought of as older and one of the deputies, but in the end, she is very young and very alone." The sheriff looked chagrinned at Gil's words.

"Mel went into the Marines right out of high school. By the time the Iraqi war rolled around, she went as part of Logistics. Now, officially, women in the Army and Marines are not in combat, but the Marines started using females to help put the Iraqi women at ease. Mel and the company she was with got attacked. She took a bullet in the thigh. Didn't know if she would walk again." Gil was clearly surprised by all of this. Jimmy poured more whiskey in both the glasses and continued.

"Mel comes stateside and works until she does walk again. She even took up bodybuilding for a while. By this time, she was out of the Marines. She applied for a deputy position. We don't usually take kids right into riding the roads. Most of my boys have already been city cops in one of the small towns in the county. So I took Mel because she had been a Marine, and she had been in combat. But I put her on dispatch at first."

"I can imagine she didn't take that too well," Gil said.

"Hell no. Bristled every time I walked by - she was always respectful, but like I said, Mel is a pit bull, and she has that same feel, like domestication is just a facade. So I finally let her ride with some of the other deputies after she finished the academy.

"One case I let her ride out with me. Small boy had been killed in his own yard. It looked like the family pet, a Rottweiler, had attacked him. Tore his throat out. But the detective kept coming back to the fact that there was no blood on the ground. On the boy, yes. On the dog, yes, but no blood on the ground. And the dog was chained up. Detective wanted to haul the parents in for questioning, especially since the mother had found the child, got a shotgun, and killed the dog.

"While I talked to the detective, she started walking the scene, checked out everything. She went over to the child's body, and she squats down, and I could swear she was talking to herself. The detective sees this and freaks out. Tells her to get her punk, dike bitch out of his crime scene. I told him to watch his mouth. He's a good detective, but he had been investigating the child abuse cases for a while. Gets to you. I transferred him shortly after that. So I walk over to Mel, and I say, 'If you puke on his crime scene, you will never live it down, and I won't give you a month of this bunch before you quit.' She looked at me real thoughtful and said, 'Autopsy the dog.' I just looked at her. 'The dog licked up the blood,' she said." Jimmy shook his head in remembrance.

"She was right," said Gil.

"Became the first female to work solo," Jimmy said.

"So what now Sheriff? Jimmy. What are you going to do about Tern Fowler?" Gil asked. Jimmy scowled.

"That's something I'm going to pray about. I don't think the DA would even prosecute, so why arrest him? That's why I sent him home with the deputy escort. I don't know what I am going to do yet."

"But the truth," protested Gil.

"The truth?" said Jimmy. "You ever watch Kurosawa's 'Ramadan'? Don't look so surprised. Even hicks get the Independent Film Channel," the sheriff grinned. Gil tried to look abashed at being so surprised with the sheriff's reference to Kurosawa. He barely succeeded

"Yes. I've seen it."

"Then you know, even the dead do not tell an undeniable truth. It's always subjective, and that is something that 35 years in this uniform have proven."

"I am a scientist, Jimmy. My only faith is that the truth trumps all."

"Well, Gil, Faith is for religion. Faith is believing truth with no evidence," Jimmy said. Gil wondered if it was the Gentleman Jack, but he couldn't quite refute the man's words.

At the same time, Catherine was chatting with Mel in the younger woman's small trailer. She was in good spirits, though her arm was hurting her fiercely.

"I do appreciate you and Dr. Grissom coming up here," Mel said again, for what must have been the thirtieth time. Catherine rolled her eyes.

"I have confidence you would have figured it out. You seem to be pretty sharp, Mel Lawrence." Catherine's eye was drawn to Mel's arm. The girl's bicep was impressive, even with the sting location wrapped by the ER personnel. Right above the bandage was a small tattoo that read "Semper Fi". "You were a Marine?" Cat asked.

"Not were. Am. You know, 'Once a Marine, Always a Marine.' I've been out about two years. Been a deputy for a year."

"How long you been body building?"

"About three years. Almost went competitive, but I like eating too much. And I have way to much in the way of ass and boobs," Mel said. Catherine laughed out loud. "May I ask how you got into investigating?" she asked Catherine.

"Well, I was a stripper. Really." Mel eyes were wide in surprise. "Believe it or not, it's a fairly respectable business in Las Vegas, at least, where I worked. Anyway, one of the regulars was a CSI. He was in love with my best friend, another girl there. He used to quiz me with riddles from his cases. He said I had a knack. So, when that same best friend was killed near the club, I decided a change was in order. He got me set up with a job in the lab, and I worked my way into being a CSI."

"Sounds like a degree from the school of hard knocks," Mel said.

"You sound like you might be a fellow graduate. I must warn you though, I have the doctoral degree, especially when it comes to men," Catherine said, and laughed it off. Lately though, she had been in a bit of a dry spell. She was getting older, and the idea of being alone once Lindsey was grown and off to college scared her. She wouldn't admit it to anyone. Ever since she and Nick had investigated the doctor who advised women to drink their own urine as the fountain of youth, she had been well aware of the lines that were accumulating on her face. Sara had once accused her of overusing her sexuality. What if it were true? And what if she couldn't rely on her looks any more?

"I don't have a degree in men. But career wise, I am working towards it." Mel said, and Catherine thought she was a little wistful.

"Mel, take my advice. Don't become the job. I have a friend who is missing out on what could be the love of a lifetime because of career. In the end, you will retire, and you'll find you have nothing left."

"Nothing but a lifetime of knowing you did what was right," Mel returned. "Sorry Catherine, but when it comes to risking being the job, or being some goober head's good time, I think I'll choose the job. I just, I don't relate well to people," she continued. "I can look at evidence and analyze, but when it comes to dealing with others, I am lacking. So maybe it is better that I don't risk what I know I am good at."

Catherine had never thought of it that way.

"I am glad we came here Mel. You need to make a trip out to Vegas some time. I am sure you would find it informative," Catherine said, gathering her things to go pick up Gil.

The next day both Gil and Catherine were quiet during the ride back to Atlanta. Gil was thinking about the colony of ants, and how one man's quest to end his own loneliness ended another man's life. He wondered what decision Jimmy would make.

Catherine was thinking about how well the lab seemed to have gotten along without her. What was next for her? What was next for Gil? All of them?

"You should just bite the bullet," she said.

"What are you talking about?" Gil asked. Sometimes Catherine finished her internal conversations aloud.

"You should bite the bullet and go out with Sara. Before it's too late," she said, turning to look at him and evaluate the effect her words had on him.

"It may already be too late. Besides, I am not brave like you," Gil said. "I can't risk everything for something that might not be."

"I don't risk everything. How big of a risk is it, really?" Catherine said. Gil was incredulous.

"When are you going to realize that all actions have consequences, whether they are personal or professional? And to mix the two is dangerous," Gil huffed.

"When are you going to realize that you are going to end up like Tern Fowler, with nothing but bugs, and at least he has memories of his Sarah." Catherine immediately regretted what she said.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, she couldn't stand it.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? You said what you meant. And it's not the first time. You are never afraid to bite the bullet Catherine. But sometimes it will explode in your mouth," Gil answered. He was still pissed. He had that tone that Catherine thought of as "Gil's pissy old woman voice".

"Truce. I won't hassle you about Sara. I just want to see you happy," she said, because it was true.

"Yeah, and your love life has made you so happy, I know." It was Gil's turn to be hurtful. "That came out different than I intended," he apologized.

"So let's change the subject," she offered. Gil took her offering, and they moved to different subjects for the rest of the trip to Vegas. They had quarreled before, but they had always been OK afterwards. This time, it felt a little forced, and they were worried.

It was with relief that they reached the lab. Gil helped Catherine place her luggage into her own vehicle.

"So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," she said, still wishing for everything to be OK. He was her oldest friend.

"Yeah. Thanks again for going with me to Cherastowee," he said, and he meant it. He could always count on Catherine in a pinch.

"Well, I was going to surprise you, but I got a copy of that Hummingbird cake recipe from the sheriff before we left. So if you are really good, I might find the time to make it." She got into her SUV and drove off. Gil waved belatedly.

"I hope she lets her sister bake it," Gil thought to himself, and walked into the lab, not quite ready to face his empty house. To his surprise, Sara was in the break room, drinking coffee and looking over a case file. "Bite the bullet," he murmured to himself. His legs felt like lead and he seemed rooted to the spot.

"Hey Grissom. How was Atlanta?" Sophia said behind him. The moment gone, Gil turned and spoke with her for a moment. When he turned, Sara was talking animatedly with Greg. She looked up and waved lightly. Greg did the same. Grissom nodded his head, and turned towards his office.

He wanted to make some calls and find out whether the Vegas zoo would take a bullet ant colony that was in need of a new home.