By the time Sara and Grissom reached the Gate of Heaven complex on Klordaalva Highway, Sara had changed out of her concert blacks and into knit black pants, a blue sweater, and a forensics windbreaker. She was in the process of changing her shoes when Grissom and Brass walked up. "What've we got?"
Brass looked at Grissom, then said, "Bodies. Lots of bodies."
"Cult ritual suicide?" Grissom asked.
"That's probably what they wanted us to think. No. Too many bullets, too much blood spatter," Brass said.
"How many are we talking?" Sara asked.
"I lost count."
They stepped inside the house. It appeared to be the main building in the complex, tall, painted white like the other ten or so buildings. A sign over the door read: "Eating Hall."
"Grissom, what's the deal with the Gate of Heaven cult?" Sara asked, following behind Brass.
"They are a doomsday cult... or... were..."
They stopped short in the doorway.
"Meet the members of the Gate of Heaven cult... all fifty-one of them," Brass said.
Sara gagged, looking at the bodies. "What... in hell... happened?"
"Anyone hear anything, see anything?" Grissom asked, kneeling down next to a woman's body. "Sara, you okay?"
Sara swallowed hard. "Yep, I'm good."
"What do you think, out here on the lonesome highway? No. Nobody's here, Grissom. Nobody saw anything. Nobody here would have said anything anyway," Brass replied. "Nobody anymore."
There was blood everywhere. Bodies lay on the floor in no particular arrangement. Women, men, children. Many were dressed casually in what seemed to be the cult's "uniform," navy pants and shirt for men, navy skirt and blouse for women. No one wore any shoes. All the shoes were lined up in a row next to one wall. "Did they do that, or did our perp do that?" Sara asked.
"Perp. These people were dead when their shoes were removed," Grissom replied. "Sara, check over there by the door to see if you can get any footprints."
Sara stepped over the bodies, closer to the door. As she stepped over what appeared to be the body of a young woman, a white face peered up. Sara shrieked. So did the face.
"Sara? What is it?"
"A... a girl."
A girl, nine or ten, maybe, pulled herself up out of the blood she'd been lying in next to the body of the young woman. She was coated in blood – her skirt, shirt, hair, hands, bare legs, and everything but most of her face. She attempted to wipe some of the blood our of her nose, mouth, and ears, but her bloody shirt only made it worse.
"Hey," Sara said cautiously. "Hey, I'm Sara. What's your name?"
The girl looked up at Sara with deep indigo eyes, but said nothing. Grissom came over, and repeated, "Can you tell us what your name is?"
The girl didn't seem to notice. Nor did she seem to understand what they were saying. She stared off into space.
"Tell Brass we've only got fifty victims," Grissom said. "Let's also try to get an ID on all the vics; maybe they've got a list of members around here. The one who isn't accounted for is the girl."