Feasibility Study
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT
Chapter 76: Losing It – Part 5
August 22, 2005 (Day 122)
Crime Lab
2:29 p.m.
When Sara saw Sofia in the break room filling a mug with coffee she entered the room. "What are you still doing here?" She knew Sofia didn't pull doubles often. Gil had shared with her that Sofia made it clear to him on her first night working Graveyard that she had a four hour overtime limit per shift. Her reason…having a life outside of work was important to her.
"I left at seven and came back at nine." Grabbing the cream she poured a dash into the black liquid. "Greg called me in to do the SAE on the little girl from the Dollhouse Murder. Now that I've done it, I wish I hadn't answered my phone."
"Dollhouse Murder? Is that what they're calling the case they went out on this morning? Gil must hate that. I've been gone most of the day. I had some follow-up interviews from a case, and then an appointment, so I'm out of the loop." Sara cocked her head. "Why didn't Greg call me to do the SAE?"
"That's what I said," She lifted her mug.
"Is the autopsy complete?"
"Just the preliminary. The father is coming in to ID, that's why I'm here." Clutching her mug she crossed the room to sit on the couch. "It's the only part I can't stomach…watching the loved ones ID the deceased."
It was the first time Sara could ever recall Sofia looking vulnerable.
Just then Jas walked in the room. "Sara! Have you heard from Nick yet? Is he okay?"
Sara turned towards Jas. "What happened to Nick?"
Sofia harrumphed, "Do the words complete mental snap color you a clear enough picture? He flipped out in the field and would have destroyed the scene if some burly boys in blue hadn't tackled Mr. Tough Guy when he was hysterical."
"What!" Sara tensed. "What do you mean complete mental snap?" Clearly Sofia was over her vulnerable stage and back to her cold, unfeeling self. Suddenly Sara felt completely lost and wondered why Gil hadn't called and told her any of this.
Jas jumped in, defending her boss. "Sofia's excluding relevant information. Nick mistook the dead little girl for his niece...or future niece, I've heard it both ways. Once he knew it wasn't her, he was fine."
Grabbing her cellphone, Sara punched in her husband's number as she headed out the door on her way to the morgue.
Crime Lab - Morgue
2:33 p.m.
Upon returning to the lab, Nick and Greg went directly to the morgue to get an update. After gloving up they approached David, who was standing on the far side of the slab on which the girl's body was presented. They were both grateful her tiny body was covered up to her neck with a white sheet.
"I'm in a holding pattern waiting for the next of kin to ID," David informed them as he led them over to the little girl's body. "From the preliminary I can tell you some good news; she was asphyxiated by the trash bag before anything else happened to her."
Upon seeing the face of the little girl for the first time, Nick's hand flew to his mouth. Although the deceased and McKenna were hardly twins, the resemblance was close enough to give him another severe dose of fright. The hair was identical as was the shape of her angelic face.
"You okay, Nick?" David inquired, a little leery of letting him in there in the first place after what he had witnessed earlier.
"Yeah." Nick lowered his hand and continued to stare at the sweet little girl whose life ended much too soon. "Always stuns me when they look this peaceful." He felt his body shake and hoped it wasn't noticeable.
In a distant voice Greg remarked, "She looks like a porcelain doll." With her hair splayed out, her eyes closed, and her undamaged face drained of color it was the first thought that popped into his mind. Then he thought of the dollhouse. "Maybe the killer wanted her to look like a doll? That's why he suffocated her and didn't touch her face while he um…" He struggled with the horrific image etched in his head from earlier. "…while he had no problem damaging other parts of her body. It's a sick thought, but obviously the person who did this crime is one sick bastard. Maybe he um…wanted to rape a doll?" Saying it out loud made him shiver. "Maybe blow up dolls weren't enough anymore so he escalated to creating a real one?"
Nick crossed his arms tight across his body, hoping the measure would alleviate the trembling while trying not to think that this could have been McKenna, or that it happened to any little girl…or that it could happen to another innocent child before the animal was caught. These thoughts always invaded his mind when it came to kids, but this one, because of the personal connection, was ripping him apart and minute after minute he fought to hold it together.
Speaking to Greg's theory, David replied, "Sofia completed the SAE so we'll have to wait for the results, but she didn't find any seminal fluid. Could have used a condom. Maybe it wasn't him, but an object. With a body this small the damage…" Glancing over he curtly said, "Nick? Are you with us here?" He was ready to ask him to step out.
Opening his eyes he replied, "Just considering Greg's theory." He cleared his throat. "So um…she died from the bag being placed over her head. Any signs of struggle? Any markings to indicate she was bound? Did Sofia find anything under the fingernails?"
"No signs or struggle or restraint," David confirmed. "Nothing from the fingernails that looked promising either, but we'll see. I'll be interested to review what we get from Tox because it does appear that she didn't put up a fight."
Greg winced at the thought of the child sitting still while a trash bag was placed over her head. "Even if she knew the person, or thought it was a game, when she started to…um…get scared because she couldn't breathe, she had to resist. Even a small child has the innate desire to survive and struggle when they're uh…dying." The last word resonated in his head and suddenly the scenario was playing out like a movie in his mind…the little girl playing with the dollhouse and then the bag going over her head…her scream…a scream that haunted him until he heard Nick's voice.
"Maybe…" His eyes fixed on the girl's cherubic face, Nick quietly said, "…she was drugged before she was suffocated. Maybe she never saw anything coming. One minute she was happily playing with the dollhouse and then she passes out." Reaching out he gently laid his hand on the girl's head, careful to touch only her hair so he wouldn't feel the chill or the rigor. "For her sake, I'm really hoping I'm right."
Greg glanced over at his boss. "A gentle and considerate psychopathic beast?"
"Yeah…but not out of concern for her." Removing his hand from the girl's head, Nick augmented Greg's theory. "If he wanted his doll pristine, he would ensure she wouldn't struggle, right?"
"Ahh." He nodded. "That makes sense…I mean, none of this makes sense because it's pure evil, but…you know what I'm saying."
The sound of the door opening had all three men craning their necks.
"We're ready to bring in the father," Donna, the coordinator for the Medical Examiner's office, stated.
Nick gave Greg a little push. "We need to clear the room." And he was thankful it was a requirement so he wouldn't have to come up with an excuse.
When they stepped into the hall they saw an emotionally broken man being held up by two slightly calmer people, presumably friends or family. Both men quickly averted their eyes to the floor.
A second later Nick shivered when heard the preparation words he had heard many times before…
Now, when you see her, she'll look very pale because blood drains from the face. She'll look like she's sleeping...
Leaning against the wall, Greg realized that in the next sixty seconds, that man was going to look at his dead little girl for the first time. His thoughts turned to his overprotective mother and how impossible this scenario would have been for her if he had died during one of several close calls in his life. He tried not to look at the man, but out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse and it ripped him apart as he wondered if that's how his mom had looked when she thought he might be dead.
While the father of the murdered girl was being escorted inside the morgue by a police officer, Vartann appeared from around the corner and joined Nick and Greg. "I'm not sure we'll get much out of the father after this, but he said he would talk because obviously, he wants the killer caught ASAP."
Greg couldn't lift his head for fear Vartann would catch the emotion building inside him.
Nick focused on a spot on the floor. Just an hour before he was lamenting about the pressure of responsibility and now his heart went out to the father who had to handle the toughest moment a man could ever face…acknowledging the death of his child. It was another scenario to add to the list of potential stressors of adulthood. "I guess we'll have to wait and see if…"
That's when they heard it.
The heart wrenching wail straight from the father's soul, out of his mouth and reverberating within the four walls of the morgue.
Without a word Nick calmly walked down the hall.
His head still down, Greg hustled off in the opposite direction.
Vartann stuffed his hands in his pockets and spoke to Donna, who was sitting behind her desk shuffling papers. "They're only tough when they're dealing with the dead. Yeah, give them a rotting corpse covered in thousands of bugs, they're fine, but when the living are suffering…they can't handle it."
Donna grabbed her half-eaten sandwich that she had stowed when the next of kin were due to arrive, and readied it for a bite. "It's amazing what you can get desensitized to over the years when you're forced to deal with it every day." Then she chomped and proceeded to chew her lunch, as if she couldn't hear the excruciating cries from across the hall.
Alone in a supply room down the hall from the morgue, Nick leaned against the door and closed his eyes. As he had done many times in the past, he attempted to pull himself together by replaying various motivational speeches he had received from his brother and several football coaches. Don't be such a wuss! Pull your shit together and get back out there! You're letting everybody down, you need to turn it around ASAP! I don't care how you feel, suck it up and do what you need to do! Push through the pain dammit, and finish what you started, Stokes! Then he added a few oldies but goodies from his father for good measure. Don't start something you can't finish, son. Failure is not an option. Never let them see you sweat. Project confidence and strength even in the face of adversity and you will be respected.
It worked like a charm and with his emotion shoved deep down inside, Nick grabbed the doorknob and bolted into the hall ready to face the case head on. Unfortunately, he didn't look where he was going and crashed right into Sara, almost knocking her off her feet.
"Hey!" She shrieked, unaware of who had just slammed into her
"Sorry, Sara!" Holding her shoulders, he steadied her. "Hell, that's all I need today is to jeopardize the bambino you might be carrying."
"Now I know what it would have been like to play football against you." She checked his eyes, but didn't see any signs of duress. "I heard what happened. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." He flashed a confident smile. "Hell of a scare thinking it was McKenna, but as soon as I heard she was okay, I was good to go. Have been ever since."
Still not totally convinced, she prodded, "What were you doing in the supply room?"
"Oh…I needed to check my voicemail and it was quiet in there." He flashed another smile. "You look happy today, Sara. Have some news?" He praised himself for deflecting the attention to her.
"No, nothing official." She shyly glanced away for a second and then returned her gaze. "I had a great therapy session. I even talked about you."
"Me?" He was taken aback. "I swear there's nothing wrong with me, Sara. And I don't need any vicarious therapy if that's what you think you're…"
"Jeez…defensive much?" She chuckled. "Dr. Myers asked me if I thought everyone had a good time at my party and I mentioned that some people had a real good time in my pool house."
"Oh…that."
"Stokes!" Vartann called from down the hall. "Conference room C. Bring whatever supplies you need."
"I've got an interview with the victim's father. He just finished ID'ing the body." Nick turned and started walking. "If I don't see you, enjoy your day off tomorrow. Have some fun for me."
Sara watched him disappear around the corner with Vartann and then headed into the morgue to see the victim. "Hey, David."
"Hey, Sara," He replied while taking a swig from his water bottle.
"Tough one?" She inquired as she walked over to examine the body.
"Yeah."
Only the little girl's face was exposed, but it was uncanny that she also looked to be exactly the same size as McKenna. "Whoa…she really does remind me of McKenna. I can definitely see why Nick flipped out."
"News travels fast around here."
"Tell me about it." She would never forget all the post-wedding gossip.
David finished dressing for his procedure. "Are you sticking around for the autopsy? I'd rather have you in here than Nick."
"Okay." She walked over and grabbed a lab coat from the wall and gloved up. "So, what do you have…" She froze. With the top sheet removed, Sara's eyes focused on the dress covered in ladybugs and blood. Suddenly she knew why Gil didn't want her involved in the case and hadn't returned her calls…the ladybugs on the dress matched one of the nursery decorating themes she had picked. In a flash Sara thought…we're bringing a baby into a world where psychopaths lie in wait to kill innocent little girls.
"Sara?" David couldn't believe how off everyone was today. "You're giving me a Nick vibe."
Tugging off the lab coat she backed away from the table. "On second thought, I'll just wait for your report. Actually, I'm not even working this case. I should be up in Trace checking on results from my case." Then she hurried out of the room.
"Sara!" Gil yelled from down the hall when he saw his wife rushing out of the morgue.
When she heard his voice she stopped in her tracks and waited for him to catch up. "It would have been better if you were honest with me instead of avoiding the issue."
"You saw the dress?"
"Look…I appreciate the concern, but I'm a big girl and a professional on the job. I don't need to be sheltered." Her voice was edgy. "You know how I feel about shelters. Shelters leave you unprepared for the real world and you end up blindsided and shocked. That's what happened to me in there."
"I'm sorry." Taking her by the arm he led her around the corner, away from Donna's desk. "It was so unnerving in the field with Nick this morning I wasn't thinking straight. Yes, my intentions were protective, but not because I don't respect your professionalism or ability to cope." Softening his expression and lowering his voice to a tender whisper, he admitted, "You're on cloud nine about the potential pregnancy, Sara. I didn't want this case…that dress…to ruin it for you."
"Has it ruined it for you? "She asked with trepidation.
He gave an honest answer. "It's tempered my unbridled enthusiasm, but I'm not changing my mind."
"I believe it's too late for that anyway." Their eyes locked. "You're right. I don't want to work this case because it will bring me down. The old Sara would have welcomed the invitation to severe depression, but the new one…she's going to take the pass she was offered and work on something else." Finally relaxing she wished she could have a hug, but since anyone could step around the corner without warning she kept her emotions in check. "Sorry for jumping down your throat." In lieu of the hug she playfully punched his shoulder. "I'm guessing you'll pull a double shift today."
"Definitely." The smile on his wife's face coaxed one out of him. "So, you'll go to your class as planned, keep your day off tomorrow and stay away from the case?"
"Yes, Master," She winked. "That sounds so I Dream of Jeannie, doesn't it?"
He chuckled. "Thanks for cheering me up before I head into autopsy. I'll see you at home tonight."
"Okay." Watching him walk away, she hoped the case wouldn't temper his unbridled enthusiasm for their future baby too much.
Trace
3:10 p.m.
Greg carried the box containing the dollhouse and all its parts into the lab, setting it on the table. "Hey there," He greeted Mabel and started unpacking the box.
Without lifting her head from her microscope she returned the greeting. "Hey."
Much to his dismay, Greg saw Hodges enter the room, but chose to ignore him. "Mabel, did you get the official memo yet? The new Master Criminalist is exercising his authority to reprioritize work. The Dollhouse Murder case gets the fast track. And I've got the dollhouse and all its pieces right here for you."
"Great," Mabel whined. "Good thing you're covering for Raj today, David, or I'd be screwed. Give it all to him, Greg."
The two locked eyes and Greg inquired, "Why are you covering for Raj?"
In a voice overflowing with irritation he replied, "Because he worked my hours when I was recovering from my broken nose."
"Oh." Now Greg really wished he had kept his mouth shut.
Mabel started laughing. "I forgot for a minute you two were arch enemies. If you're gonna brawl, at least give me a few minutes to gather a crowd and start a betting pool."
"Let's focus on the business at hand, shall we?" Unpacking the rest of the box's contents Greg directed, "Grissom was particularly interested in knowing if there is anything special about the paint."
Mabel walked over to the table to take a look. "So, Greg…when I was in the break room earlier I heard that that Stokes really flew off the deep end at this dollhouse scene. They said you were the one who chased him down, how bad was it? Give us some details."
"I'd love to," Greg happily announced to Mabel. Then he turned to look at Hodges before completing his thought. "I'd love to, if I was the kind of guy who gets off exploiting people when they're vulnerable, but since I'm not…" He glanced back at Mabel. "…I won't be discussing the details of anyone's personal crisis with you or anyone else, ever. So let's drop it and get back to work."
Hodges rolled his eyes, "Nice speech, Sanders."
"Whatever."
LVPD
Conference Room C
3:35 p.m.
Opting not to sit around the large table, Brad Thomas, the victim's father, sat in a chair in the corner of the room with his brother-in-law Carl and his sister Jen flanking him in chairs. Nick had pulled up a chair in front of them and Vartann was sitting off to the side observing.
"How many more questions?" Brad asked out of mental exhaustion. "I need to get to the hospital and check on my wife."
Sniffling, Jen pleaded, "I really think we should go."
"I know this is difficult." Sensing the man couldn't handle much more Nick offered, "I do have a few more questions, but if you'd rather, we could speak later."
"No." Brad was adamant. "I want my daughter's killer caught and I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen. I was just trying to estimate how much longer until I can check on my wife."
The pain in the man's eyes was overwhelming as Nick gently proceeded. "Do you have any dollhouses in your home? And if so, would you describe them."
"Yes…two." Brad gripped his sister's hand tighter, asking in a shaky voice, "Can you tell him for me?"
"One is the Barbie Talking Townhouse. I just gave it to her for her birthday last week…" She reached for another wad of tissues. "The other is a pink plastic Fisher Price one that she's had since she was three."
"Thank you," Nick nodded as he jotted some notes. "Did Brittany ever play outside with the dollhouses? Like in the front yard or in the park?"
Brad shook his head. "No, they were inside toys."
"Do you recall ever seeing her play with a dollhouse in public? Like at a toy shop where they have them on display?"
"No, but my wife is the one who takes her shopping. They…" His breath caught in his throat as he realized those happy trips would never be happening again.
Jen insisted once more, "We really need to get him out of here."
"Dammit, Jen!" Brad screamed through his tears. "I need to do this for my little girl! I'm staying here and answering whatever I have to! If you can't handle it, wait outside!"
Vartann stood up. "Jen, maybe I could take you and your husband for a cup of coffee?"
Carl jumped at the chance. "I think that's a good idea. Come on, Jen."
Alone in the room with the father, Nick remarked, "You're doing great, Mr. Thomas. You're right…you're doing this for your daughter; you're not letting her down. Just keep focusing on that."
"How can you say I'm not letting her down? Don't you dare say that to me," He replied with a heavy heart. "As her father I was supposed to keep her safe. It was my job to protect Brittany and my wife. That's what a husband and a father does. Now my daughter is dead and my wife is lying in a hospital room drugged out of her mind because she can't cope with the pain. Brittany was our only child. She was our miracle baby. Six years of fertility treatments to get her to come into this world. What the hell was I thinking? I spent all that time and energy trying to create her and didn't spend any time securing her bedroom window better to protect her. I failed, Mr. Stokes…I failed my daughter and my wife."
Hearing these new details, Nick felt a series of chips in his renewed calm. One of his biggest fears in life was being played out before his eyes and everything he thought he would feel if in a similar position was being confirmed by the shattered man in front of him.
Brad's voice cracked sharply, "I was asleep in the house when that monster took her from her bedroom. She went to sleep thinking she was safe that night because her father was home. Do you still think I didn't let her down?" Tears poured down his cheeks once more. "Do you think she asked, 'Where's my daddy?' when the killer had her? Do you think she screamed for me to help her? Do you!"
Flustered by the realization he had said something grossly inappropriate, Nick stammered as the chips in his armor turned to cracks, "I…I really…"
"Are you a father, Mr. Stokes?"
He choked out the answer to the factual question. "No."
"Do you have a wife?"
"A fiancée." He gripped his pen hard enough to feel it dig into his flesh.
Breathing deep Brad said, "How would you feel if she vanished on your watch? Do you think you could say you didn't let her down? Do you think it would make you feel better that you stuck around to answer an investigator's questions after the fact?"
Swallowing hard Nick apologized, "Please forgive my insensitive statement earlier."
Brad closed his eyes and exhaled. "What's your next question?"
"Uh…" Nick glanced at his notebook, pretending the question was there while he struggled to regroup from his professional faux pas as well as terrifying scenario the man presented about Carrie. "Right…um…the dress your daughter was wearing…do you recall where it was purchased?"
"My wife bought it for a two Sundays ago, to wear at her birthday party last week." Brad fought not to remember the joyous celebration. "She got it at that big craft market at the convention center."
"Okay…yes…I've seen it advertised." Having forced every ounce of emotion back down, Nick asked, "Do you remember the name of the vendor?"
"Yes…Daisy's Dresses. It was on the bag. I remember because…" After a jagged inhale, he finished, "…they're my daughter's favorite flowers."
Nick wrote quickly and stood. "There's only one more thing right now. As Detective Vartann informed you, we'll be processing your daughter's bedroom and your home. In order to expedite matters we need DNA samples from you and your wife so we can compare them to any samples we may find. That way we can easily determine if samples found were occupants of the home or not. I can take your sample here. As for your wife, I can send someone from the lab to the hospital, but if that will be too upsetting for her, we may be able to obtain one from an item in your home."
"My wife is so drugged right now she's practically a vegetable. You can send someone."
"Thank you, Mr. Thomas." Nick headed for the door and once there he said something he usually didn't guarantee. "We'll get Brittany justice."
The Morgue
3:51 p.m.
If someone were to ask Gil Grissom how many autopsies he'd attended in his life he wouldn't be able to provide an exact number, but he would guess it to be in the thousands. However, all those autopsies combined weren't affecting him as greatly as the one he was attending that day…the first autopsy on a child since believing would soon be a father.
"David, when you…" Grissom quickly paused, shocked that he was about to ask such a personal question.
Looking up from the scale holding the victim's liver he prodded, "What?"
"I'm sorry…I was going to ask a personal question and then I realized it was inappropriate." He busied himself reading the girl's file. "Forgive me."
"You were going to ask a personal question? You never do that." That brought a smile to David's face for the first time this day. "Please do…because I'm curious now."
"Alright." He set the file down and took a seat on a stool. "Assuming that you and your wife planned the pregnancy…"
"Oh it was planned, let me tell you." David's lips spread into a wider smile. "My wife is a planning fanatic and she wanted to be pregnant at the same time as her sister. She was charting her temperature and had me on a schedule for three months in a row. The day that we saw the blue line on the home pregnancy test I was crying for two distinct reasons…that we were having a baby and that I had control over my body parts again, because coming home after a tough day at work, and being forced into bed, I tell you…I had a whole new appreciation for celibacy." Suddenly he realized what he was saying. "Sorry for the overshare. You said personal and I got carried away. Forgive me, I'm still traumatized by the process."
Grissom felt his mouth curving up as he related in silence.
Noting the weight of the liver he prompted, "So what's your question? You shouldn't feel too awkward sharing after what I just blabbered."
After a quick smile he posited, "When you were making the decision to have kids, did you filter out what you see here everyday in order to go through with it, or did you decide to have kids even though you know predators, like the animal who killed this little girl, exist?"
He answered without hesitation, "Never factored in. Having kids is something I always wanted. I'm one of five and my wife is one of six. And if all the normal people stopped having kids because of the psychos out there, then eventually the psychos would have the upper hand."
Nodding, Grissom remarked, "Very true."
"With that said though…" David moved on to the next step in the procedure while continuing his thought. "…after seeing Mr. Thomas ID his little girl, and knowing she was snatched from her bedroom, I think it's safe to say I'll be putting in a state of the art security system in my home and sleeping with one eye open for the rest of my life."
"So your knowledge didn't prevent you from bringing children into this world, it will just make you a neurotic parent?"
"Spoken like a man without children of his own…yet." Chuckling, David retorted, "Neurosis is a given when you become a parent. Especially as the father of a girl."
"I suppose so." Grissom noted David's latest findings. "Because man living in fear for his offspring has been around since prehistoric times."
"Right…back then it was a brontosaurus."
"Actually, they weren't carnivores," Grissom corrected. "The T-Rex would be a better analogy."
"Not really though…" David countered as he worked. "…dinosaurs were nabbing children for food the same as I grab a steak from the store. It wasn't pathological, it was biological."
Grissom casually replied, "What makes you think this girl's killer was feeding his hunger?"
David shuddered, "Hearing stuff like that will make me sleep with both eyes open."
"You and me both." Grissom removed his lab coat. "Because if my child was ever snatched, I'm quite certain I'd lose my mind."
Nick Stokes' Office
4:03 p.m.
With Jas and Pete processing the Thomas house, Nick returned to his office to make a few phone calls. The first to Wendy Blake.
"How are you doing, Nick?" Wendy asked as soon as she answered the phone.
"I'm fine." He added the habitual 'don't you worry about me' smile even though she couldn't see it. "Sorry to bring this up again, but I have a question about McKenna's ladybug dress. Where did you buy it?"
"From a booth at the craft market. The monthly one at the convention center."
A shiver ran up his spine. "Do you remember the name of the vendor?"
"Um…I don't, but I have the receipt at my desk. I'm not on the cordless so hang on a minute and I'll grab it."
He heard her put the phone down, but then pick it up quickly. "I'm sorry to do this to you, but…McKenna heard me say your name when I answered. Are you up to speaking with her?"
"Sure." Spinning his chair he faced the back wall of his office. As soon as he heard her sweet little voice he was thrust back in time to the crime scene when he first heard her voice and knew she was really okay.
"Hi, Uncle Nicky!"
"Hey, Kenna Girl."
"Mommy says you're coming over to play with me tonight because Aunt Carrie can't play with you, because she has a playdate with her friends."
"That's right." Just like before, her lively voice was bringing him peace of mind. "What do you want to play when I'm there?"
"First I want to have a tea party and then we can color and then we can play house. You can be the daddy and we'll make Sean be our doggie."
"Are you sure Sean wants to be the doggie? Maybe we should ask him what he wants to be."
"My mommy is back now so I have to say bye. BYE!"
"Bye."
"Okay…I have the receipt. The vendor was Daisy's Dresses."
The coincidences kept mounting in sync with his anxiety. "Do you remember any vendors at the craft market selling dollhouses?"
"Yes. Handcrafted ones, you could bring in a photo of your house and get one made just like it. They caught McKenna's eye right away, but they were really pricey so we kept on walking."
His heart racing he asked, "Do you remember the name of that vendor."
"Sorry…the price was all I needed to know that I didn't need anymore information. Nick…your tone is giving me the willies."
"Wendy…" He gulped the lump in his throat. "Please be extra vigilant with McKenna until we nail this guy. I can't disclose any specifics on the case, but suffice it to say I'm concerned about something."
"I'm really getting scared, Nick." Wendy's voice shook. "After looking over my shoulder for Mike Rodgers my whole life I've finally been able to relax this year with him behind bars. After knowing what it's like first hand to be held against your will and attacked, if that happened to one of my kids I'd lose my mind."
Now he felt bad for reinstating that fear. "I'm sorry, but…I'd rather err on the side of caution. With Paul out of town on business I feel it's my responsibility to look out for you and the kids."
"Thank you, Nick." She breathed a sigh of relief. "It really does make me feel better knowing you're a phone call away when Paul's gone. So I'll still see you around seven?"
"You tell Kenna that I'll be ready to tea party. See ya."
When he hung up the phone he immediately dialed information and waited impatiently for the automated operator.
What city? What listing?
"Las Vegas, Daisy's Dresses."
Crime Lab
Break Room
4:12 p.m.
Sitting on the couch sipping coffee, Greg held his cellphone to his ear waiting for Tawny to pick up.
"Hey, Chuckles. When are coming home to give me some jollies?"
Hearing her voice was a bright spot in a dreary day. "Unfortunately, I won't be home before you head out for dance class. We're working a huge case and Master Criminalist Grissom has commandeered me to be his right hand man after my shift is over. That's what I was calling to tell you."
"Bummer."
He spoke proudly. "Actually, it's a high profile case, so it's a good thing for me. Don't be bummed."
"When you put it like that, I have to say, way to go!" Then she heaved a sigh. "The overtime is good too, because, Honey…I had to quit my job a little earlier than planned…like today. I kept hurling from all the intermingling food smells and the restaurant manager said it was bad for business. Sorry. But at least we have money in the bank and I have a new job waiting for me after Labor Day. Hopefully by then I won't be feeling so queasy."
"Don't worry about it." Suddenly Greg recalled part of Nick's ulcer-inducing lecture…
What if Carrie gets pregnant and can't work due to complications. That happened to my sister Barbara. Or what if she decides after giving birth that she doesn't want to work anymore? If that happens, then I become the sole breadwinner. Or what if I get hurt on the job and can't work? Or God forbid I bite it, and leave my wife and kids behind to fend for themselves. I have to think of extra disability policies, life insurance, mortgage insurance.
"Greg?" Tawny shouted through the phone.
"Huh? Sorry." Crushed under the weight of impending responsibility he stammered, "I…someone was giving me some information about the case…I need to go. I'll see you later tonight. Love you. Bye." He hung up without giving her a chance to talk and remained in a trance until he felt a tap on the shoulder.
Sara gawked at her co-worker. "You okay?"
"I don't have mortgage insurance," He mumbled.
"Probably because you don't have a house." Laughing, she headed for the fridge.
"Oh god…Nick was right." Gripping his forehead he leaned over. "There's so much I haven't considered. My dad's right too."
"Clue me in here." Holding her Tupperware of tuna fish she grinned, "Getting cold feet about being a daddy? Too late, my friend!"
"Nick was just lecturing me about responsibility."
"I have some Maalox in my locker if you need it." She sat at the table and cracked open the lid on her snack.
"Between this case and…"
"It's a really twisted one, isn't it?" As she grabbed her fork she sighed, "I saw the little girl in the morgue."
"Me too…" Shivering he informed her, "Then I saw her dad. All I kept thinking was…this is what my mom must have felt like worrying that I was dead."
"From the lab explosion?" Sara knitted her brow. "But Gil told her immediately that you were in no danger and would make a full recovery."
"Oh…" He embellished, "You know…my mom, she's an over-worrier."
"Greg…" Sara curiously stared at him. "When you saw the girl in the morgue and then her father, the only thoughts you had were about you being the child and how your mom would cope with the news of your death?"
After pondering for a moment he answered, "Yeah. Why?" He polished off his coffee in one last gulp.
"Because Gil and I discussed it and we both saw it from the parental perspective...how we would feel if it were our daughter and attributed those feelings to becoming parents soon ourselves. So it's a little surprising to me that you didn't think of that at all now that you're about to become a father." She raised a brow. "You're still visualizing yourself as a child, not a parent." Grinning she surmised, "I guess Chuckles isn't ready to grow up yet."
Standing up he huffed in a caffeine-fused rant, "What, did you and Nick decide to double-team me today playing Responsibility Twins 1 and 2? I get it, okay! Obviously I haven't been the most responsible guy in the past and I have a ways to go. The idea of having a baby is still really new to me, and unlike you…it's not something I planned in advance. I'm dealing with it as fast and as well as I can, but I guess my subconscious didn't get the memo. I'll be sure to add that to the list of things I need to work on, but for now, can you cut me some slack?"
"Jeez, I'm really sorry, Greg." She lowered her fork, realizing she hit a nerve. "I didn't mean…I was just having some fun with you."
His irritation only escalated from her statement. "Right…everyone thinks I'm here for their amusement."
"Seriously…can you take a seat and talk to me about this? I feel really bad."
"I can't." He glanced at his watch and made a beeline for the door. "I'm working and I wouldn't want to be accused of being a slacker on top of everything else."
"Greg! Come back here!" Sara was about to go after him when her phone rang.
Nick Stokes' Office
4:19 p.m.
After hanging up with Sara, Nick sat in his office holding his desk phone to his ear waiting for someone to pick up when finally a friendly woman's voice soared through the phone. "Daisy's Dresses."
He turned on the charm. "Hi there, my name is Nick Stokes and I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab, with whom am I speaking?"
"Daisy Lewis. What's this call about?"
"In a recent investigation, we discovered a piece of evidence…a white dress embroidered with red and black ladybugs that was purchased from your booth at the Convention Center craft market two weeks ago. I was hoping you might have the time to answer a few questions."
"Um…sure."
He noted her wary tone. "Do you know the name of the custom dollhouse vendor who was at the same event?"
"Yes, she's a friend of mine. Tina Sommerset. Tina's Tiny Houses. Are you going to tell me what this is about?"
"I'm sorry, I can't tell you the specifics of the investigation, ma'am. Right now I'm just following up on some items." He jotted down the information. "Would you feel comfortable giving me a number for Tina? If not, I can look it up."
"She has a website with her contact information, Tinas Tinies dot com."
"Thank you." He turned to pull it up on the computer while he was talking. "Do you recall anything unusual about the craft market on Sunday, August 7th?"
"Yes!"
He perked up.
"Someone stole my mailing list notebook right from my display table. It had all my customer information."
"Information such as telephone numbers and addresses?" The hairs on his neck stood at alert as he grabbed his cellphone.
"Yes! Man was I ticked. I don't have a copy or anything."
"Did you report it to anyone?"
"No, I figured it was some kid and since it had no monetary value who was going to care?"
"Oh, I definitely care. Could I send an officer out to take an official statement?"
"Sure."
"Thank you, you've been a big help, Ms. Lewis. Expect an officer within the next hour."
As soon as he hung up his desk phone he hit the send button on his cellphone and bolted from his office.
Wendy answered the phone on the first ring. "More questions, Nick?"
Hurrying towards Grissom's office he asked, "Wendy, when you were at the craft market buying that ladybug dress, did you happen to add your information to a mailing list notebook for Daisy's Dresses?"
"Yes."
"Listen to me, Wendy. Do not let McKenna out of your sight and make sure all your windows and doors are locked up tight." He checked his watch.
"Now you're really freaking me out, Nick!"
Speaking quietly he informed her, "I'm sorry. Between you and me, I have reason to suspect the notebook with your address information is in the wrong hands because it's no longer in the right hands."
"You mean it could be in the hands of the…"
"There's no way of knowing, but like I said before…we err on the side of caution, okay?" When he reached Grissom's door he told her, "Hang tight. Before I swing by later I'll grab some stuff and plan on spending the night. I'll call Carrie and let her know to do the same."
"Okay."
"This type of freak won't do anything out in the open. So you just keep her in sight and everything will be fine. I'll call you back soon. Bye."
When he stepped inside Grissom's office Nick announced, "I think I've got something."
Trace
4:25 p.m.
"Got anything?" Greg inquired of Hodges as he stepped inside the room.
"Disdain for you," He quipped.
"Where's Mabel?"
"Left for the day. Had to take her kid to the orthodontist" He moved over to the printer to grab a fresh report. "I bet you like hearing that, youson of a…dentist."
"I'm telling you up front, I'm not in the mood."
Sarcasm dripping from every word, Hodges retorted, "Since when did you start being so upfront about your mood? Since the stripper?"
"My report." He extended his hand.
Slapping the report in Greg's hand Hodges told him, "Nothing special about the paint. Could buy it at any decent paint shop or mega home store. The only interesting thing is it's heavy duty outdoor paint which seemed odd to me since nice wooden dollhouses usually don't see a lot of snow and hail action."
"Thank you." Greg proceeded to glove up then box up the dollhouse and its parts.
"Going back to your cubby to play dolls?"
"Ignoring you." He kept boxing.
"If you're ignoring me, shouldn't you be stuffing your fingers in your ears and chanting while stomping your feet?
The ring of Greg's cellphone caught both their ears.
Grabbing it he snipped, "Sanders."
"Hi, Greggy. I didn't get to tell you something earlier because you hung up so fast. Is this a better time?"
"Yes." He made a point of smiling at Hodges before turning his back on the pest. Then Greg sweetly said, "What is it, Honey?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, Tawny. I'm looking forward to some serious snuggle time tonight."
"Me too. Okay…get back to work, Assistant to the Master! Bye."
When he heard the click from her hanging up, he kept talking. "That sounds fantastic, Princess. Uh huh…" He giggled deviously. "If you're up for it I know I am. Hell yeah. Sure I can stop at the store on the way home and buy whipped cream. Anything else? Cherries? What for? OH! You wanna do that! Then I'd like some hot fudge too because you know how I like it….the hot-ter the bet-ter BABY!"
"Greg!" Grissom's voice boomed into the room. "What the hell? You're supposed to be working a case, not having phone sex!"
"Gris!" He glanced around and saw no sign of Hodges. "I swear…there's no one on the phone. Listen! It's not even connected." He handed it over.
Grissom confirmed there was no one there. "You were having self-stimulating phone sex? And this is supposed to make me feel better?"
"Uh…I was practicing? Letting off some steam? Um…" Stowing the phone he opted to switch subjects. "I have the paint analysis!"
Sunrise Medical Center
Las Vegas
4:47 p.m.
Nurse Sharon Pulaski escorted Sara into Denise Thomas's hospital room stating, "She's heavily sedated."
Aside from the woman asleep in the bed, Sara noted a younger woman sitting in a chair.
The heartbroken woman stood and introduced herself. "I'm Denise's sister, Monica. You're here for my sister's DNA sample?"
"Yes." She stepped forward and showed her ID. "I'm Sara Sidle from the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I know this is a difficult time for you. I promise this will just take a minute."
While snapping on a pair of gloves and readying a collection envelope, Sara nervously watched the woman sleeping in bed.
Denise spoke quietly. "I'm still in shock."
"Understandably so," Sara empathized. "It will take a while."
"You sound like you know what it's like to lose a loved one."
Sara removed her tweezers from her kit. "My parents…I was pretty young."
"Ah." Denise returned to her chair. "I miscarried a baby at nine weeks last year and I thought that was the end of the world. But to see my sister lose Brittany after six years…" Tears started to flow. "I just found out yesterday that I'm pregnant again. I was so happy. Now I can't imagine telling my sister. I can't imagine enjoying any of it in front of her. It should be a happy time and now we're all devastated."
With a lump the size of a grapefruit in her throat, Sara approached the patient. "I'll be pulling a couple of strands of your sister's hair by the root. That's how we acquire the sample." She forced herself to focus on the task at hand and not the woman's story.
Holding several tissues to her face, Denise nodded. "Okay."
McGuire Residence
4:54 p.m.
Grissom and Nick, each with their kits in hand, walked behind Vartann as they approached the home of Tina McGuire, the owner of Tina's Tiny Houses.
As they strolled to the front door, Vartann, in a cocky tone, cautioned, "Hey, I'm not expecting any problems, but Grissom you stay to the side just in case, and Nick…look like you're staying to the side, but have my back."
Nick handed Grissom his kit, preparing to look like he wasn't covering Vartann, while silently cursing the detective for adding yet another stressor to his already overwhelming day…if you thought there might be a problem then why didn't you bring back up? And if you really don't think there will be a problem, why the hell did you have to say that? Oh, I know…you're messin' with my head because you think I'm a basket case. Thanks, pal…for nothing! Yeah, you know who I really need to thank…Keanu Reeves…because if I hadn't watched that coma-inducing Cloud movie of his last night, I wouldn't have passed out from boredom and had the 15 hours of Z's I needed in order to survive this hellacious day. Thanks, Keanu…for being such a grape stompin' wuss boy in that flick, because if I only had 5 hours in me, I doubt I'd still be standing.
Sunrise Medical Center
Las Vegas
4:56 p.m.
As Sara was exiting the hospital, she saw a sign that she took as a sign…
Walk-In Clinic
Immunizations
Pregnancy Testing
Confidential HIV Testing
The middle offer jumped out at her and her mind raced with questions. Just how sensitive are their pregnancy tests? Could they detect hCG nine days post ovulation? Wouldn't some positive baby news on a day fraught with sadness be wonderful? How could Gil be disappointed?
Unable to stop herself, Sara marched straight toward the clinic's door.
Next Chapter: Losing It - Part 5
Teaser: The anxiety will continue to rise for the CSIs and their mates as the case and their personal lives progress. Many characters will be shocked when they're faced with unexpected information/situations.
Posting: Skipping the weekend due to Mother's Day. So the next chapter will postTuesday morning.
Thanks for reading and commenting!
Maggs