Heroes and Villains: Chapter one
Sara thought it strange that suburbia could look so normal in Las Vegas.
She gazed out the window as the trees lining the street rushed past, evenly spaced above symmetrical modern white houses that could have been in the middle of California, not on the outskirts of illustrious Sin City.
She rotated her sunglasses vaguely in her hand as she observed the neighbourhood with feigned indifference, inwardly fascinated by the human need for normalcy, even in a city that thrived on its eccentricities.
She glanced at her quiet companion, Gil Grissom, who unlike her other colleagues, felt no need to broach the silence with attempts at conversation. And though a year ago the silence might have been awkward, they had now regained some semblance of their previous friendship, and Sara felt comfortable enough to study their surroundings without speaking.
Their crime scene was a neat, modest house identical to its neighbours. Police vehicles already interrupted the symmetry of the other homes, scattered unevenly in front of the curb, and the dark black coroner's van stood out in stark contrast with the blinding white of the house and flawless green lawn where it was parked in the driveway.
Grissom steered the Tahoe to a space behind Brass' sleek black Denali, and Grissom rounded the driver's side as Brass stopped near Sara.
"Hey", she greeted politely.
Brass nodded. "Hey guys".
"What've we got?" Grissom asked, straight to business, gesturing towards the house behind them.
Brass frowned at them, not answering directly. "Is it just you two?"
Sara shook her head, sliding her sunglasses on her head. "We're shorthanded. Nick's coming over to help us when he can get here."
Brass nodded. "That's probably a good thing. You're going to need it".
At their impatient, unappreciative looks, he sighed deeply. "Victims are two males, one mid-fifties, other in his twenties. So far unidentified. According to the couple who own the house they came home from vacation, and found them in the living room."
Grissom tilted an eyebrow, obviously intrigued. "Home robbery gone wrong?"
Brass looked at him wryly. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But there's nothing missing, and if you'll forgive me, these two guys don't exactly look like your typical thugs."
"There's such a thing?" Sara said jokingly.
He allowed her a brief, tired smile. "Anyway, the killer didn't go easy on them. It's pretty messy in there. And there's something that doesn't quite mesh with the couple's story".
Grissom frowned. "You think they might have had something to do with it?"
Brass shrugged. "I wouldn't rule it out. They don't exactly look like your typical suburban family. I'm guessing they came into some money. But you better check out the bodies before you make any assumptions."
Grissom gave him a look. "I never do".
Grissom and Sara followed Brass up the neatly paved path into the house, which was just as pristine on the inside as it was on the outside. White walls, white tiles, delicate mahogany furniture that looked quite expensive.
Sara slanted an eyebrow, resting her kit against her leg as she glanced around thoughtfully.
There was an almost… too perfect look to the place. A fakeness that somehow managed to make her skin crawl.
The entrance hall led into the living room, where the scene of carnage was unmistakable. Unlike the rest of the house, the sofa was overturned, a lamp was smashed and broken, and the white carpet held obvious patches of blood.
Sara's eyebrows lifted as she took in the scene. The younger man was slumped by the fallen sofa, arms spread out above his head. The back of his head was caked with blood and a dark pool was stained in the carpet in a circle under his skull. The older victim, who bore a vague resemblance to the other, lay on his side near the door on the other side of the room. He was hunched almost in a fetal position. Sara's gaze was immediately drawn to the fire poker protruding from the centre of his stomach, and she could see why.
"Damn", she muttered softly.
Brass nodded grimly. "Yeah, looks like things got pretty rough".
David hovered in the corner of the room, obviously waiting for them. "David", Grissom greeted briskly. "Have you done the liver temps yet?"
The coroner nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. Both died approximately eighteen hours ago".
"They look related", Sara observed, to no one in particular.
Brass was right. They didn't look like criminals.
The detective nodded. "That's what I thought".
Sara and Grissom got to work, quietly opening their kits to collect trace evidence from the bodies so David could take them back to the morgue. Methodically, they started to process the scene.
Sara briefly studied Grissom as she dusted the fallen lamp for prints. He looked unaffected by the carnage around him, but he usually did. She could never tell how he dealt with these cases. Whether he really could remain detached from it all, or whether it was just an act. She knew all of them had at one time or another accused him of being unfeeling, but if there was one insight she had gained from the Debbie Marlin case last year, it was that it certainly wasn't the case.
She sighed, realising that for the first time she had been making a conscious effort to get past him this year. Which wasn't to say it was working.
She glanced at him again as he placed some fibres in an evidence bag, and this time he glanced up, meeting her gaze across the room. She swallowed, wondering what he was thinking now he had caught her staring at him, but he just cleared his throat, replacing the bags in his kit.
"I think its time we talk to the owners."
Sara nodded, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed at his easy dismissal. "Yeah. There's definitely something wrong going on here."
They both strode back out into the blinding sun, weaving through several vehicles as they made their way towards Brass and the couple in question, standing across the street.
Sara stepped out in front of their Tahoe when she was afforded with her first view of the pair with Brass and she stopped abruptly.
Grissom thudded into her from behind, and he stepped back, frowning as she whirled to face him.
"Sara!"
She was blind to the look of irritation on his face, and the fact that she had turned just a little too close to him, heart suddenly thundering wildly in her chest.
"I-uh, I can't go over there".
She swallowed, eyes wavering over his unsteadily, as he gazed down at her in confusion. "What?"
She fumbled for an excuse, feeling shakes run through her as she braced herself against the car unevenly. "I… I really don't feel very well, Grissom. I think I need to sit down". Quiet desperation tinged her voice. "Please. I can't go over there."
He stared at her. She thought she probably really didn't look so well at that moment, but she couldn't quite tell if he believed her.
"Okay", he said softly, unreadable expression apparent in his eyes. "Of course I won't make you go over there. Why don't you sit in the car for a while, and I'll get Nick to help me when he arrives?"
She nodded, grateful beyond belief that he didn't question her sudden bout of 'illness'. "Thanks."
"Sure".
He looked uncertain, but she also detected a hint of dubiousness in his gaze, and patted her gently on the arm as he finally passed, continuing on his way to do the questioning.
Sara slumped weakly in the passenger's side of the car, leaning her head back against the seat as she struggled to get her breathing back to normal.
She ran her hands over her face as she felt her heart rate slow to a regular pace, realising that if her nightmares really hadn't just developed into full-fledged hallucinations, then she had just glimpsed the face from most of them.
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Grissom approached Brass; uncomfortable with the thought that Sara had just lied to him, and the homicide captain gestured to the couple with obvious distaste. "This is Gil Grissom from the crimelab. He'll have a few more questions to ask you. Gil, Clark Jenson and Louise Sutton."
Gil lifted an eyebrow, noting their non-married status. Not that that was unusual these days. But considering the neighbourhood, he thought Brass' earlier remark about the basis of their wealth might have some level of truth.
"You found the bodies?" he inquired politely.
Clark nodded slowly. "Yeah. We've been in Bermuda for the last week. We just got home this morning, and there they were. Scared the hell out of us".
Grissom pursed his lips musingly. "Did either of you know the two men?"
Both shook their heads, but there was a certain level of tension in the air that Grissom found interesting.
"Okay", he said calmly. "Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to get a sample of your DNA. To rule you out as suspects".
Clark stiffened, rising to his full height. "Just wait a minute, Mr. Grissom", he said angrily. "Me and Louise already told you we were on vacation. We had nothing to do with this."
Grissom met his resistance with a cool exterior. "Yes. And if we have your DNA, it will verify that."
Brass loudly cleared his throat. "It's just procedure, Mr. Jenson", he said evenly. "If you don't volunteer it, we'll just be forced to get a warrant."
Clark looked like he was going to protest further, but Louise quietly put a hand on his arm, gently calming him. He sagged against the contact, sighing deeply. "Fine", he said tightly.
Grissom studied the woman briefly. She exuded a quiet confidence that seemed to ground her partner. She met his gaze easily. "We'd like to help, Mr. Grissom", she said quietly.
He nodded, retrieving a swab to collect the samples. "Thank you".
After he was done, Brass excused the pair, glancing at Grissom questioningly. "What do you think?"
Grissom pressed his lips together slightly. "I think there's something they're not telling us".
Brass nodded. "No kidding", he said shortly. He glanced around, closing his notepad with fluid precision. "Where's Sara?" he added as an afterthought, noticing the brunette's absence for the first time.
Grissom was reminded of her strange behaviour and a deep frown crinkled his brow. "She, uh, said she felt sick. I told her to sit in the car".
Brass gave him a look, slowly shaking his head. "You told her to sit in the car? Wow, how considerate of you, Gil. Did you give her any water? Aspirin?"
Grissom was silently annoyed by Brass' immediate certainty that he was so insensitive. "I'll go check on her", he said curtly, firmly ignoring his comments.
Brass rolled his eyes. "Good idea."
Grissom strode slowly towards the car, scowling slightly. He didn't want to voice his doubts about Sara's sincerity to Jim, knowing they would make him appear even less sympathetic than his friend already thought he was. Jim had been oddly protective of Sara since the DUI incident. His concern for Sara was almost paternal. Grissom knew his relationship with his own daughter was very strained. Sara was like a substitute in some ways.
He took the time to wonder what Sara's relationship was like with her own father. It occurred to him that he didn't know much about the personal lives of each of his CSIs, even Sara, who had been his friend before Vegas, if you could call exchanging emails and the odd phone call over long distance a friendship.
And whose fault is that? he reminded himself wearily.
Sara sat in the passenger side, staring blankly at some spot on the dashboard. He stopped beside the open door hesitantly. "Sara?"
She blinked, quickly glancing at him. She did look sort of ill. But she had been fine earlier inside, and he knew nothing triggered a nauseous stomach like a particularly gruesome crime scene.
"Are you okay?"
She straightened in her seat, glancing at him briefly. "Yeah", she said, avoiding his gaze for too long. "I think I just got a patch of heatstroke there", she continued, smile a little too forced. "Mind if I take everything back to the lab when Nick arrives?"
He nodded slowly, wondering why she found it so necessary to lie to him. But he knew if he called her on it and he was wrong, it would only make the void in their friendship more pronounced by suggesting he didn't trust her.
"Of course."
She nodded as well, offering him a small, less artificial smile of gratitude. "Thanks." She paused, eyeing him uncertainly. "Did you get their statements?"
He frowned, deciding he would ignore the unease in his gut for now. "Yeah."
"Good". Her eyes focused on something ahead. "Nick's here."
He didn't follow her gaze, instead taking the moment to study her. She looked considerably better now she had an excuse to go back to the lab. He couldn't remember the last time Sara forwent fieldwork in favour of the lab.
He was becoming increasingly worried about her. He knew the shift changes had made it difficult for him to observe her the last couple of months, but the last conversation they had had still rested uneasy with him.
He still didn't know whether she had said those things to him because she was trying to move on, or because she needed to get them out there. He was still dissatisfied with his own attempt at a response, but when wasn't that the case?
Still, they didn't seem to have liberated her of anything. And he got the feeling there was something much heavier weighing her down, which had nothing to do with him, or their complicated relationship – something that was becoming progressively more difficult for her to ignore.
But then he was forced to step back so she could move into the driver's seat, and he handed her the keys, wondering if he was really just offering her another way to escape whatever was chasing her.
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Grissom was staring at his desk, debating which mound of paperwork to tackle first, when someone rapped on his door.
He glanced up, just as Catherine confidently sauntered into his office, and slumped casually on the chair opposite him.
He was glad to see her. Since her promotion, they didn't see nearly as much of each other as they once might have, and he knew he wasn't the only one who missed it. Lately Catherine had taken to dropping by his office for impromptu chats, and he welcomed the interruption.
She stretched, eyeing his desk in dry amusement. "Have you ever thought of taking a time management course?"
He gave her a depreciating scowl, amending that last thought. Well, usually. "I'll put it on my list of priorities", he said irritably.
She gave him a patient smile. "I heard about your case", she said thoughtfully. "Do you think they were robbing the place?"
He removed his glasses, touching the tip to his chin thoughtfully. "I've thought about it. It seems unlikely. Nothing was missing. And there are no signs of a third party."
"Do you have any ID's yet?"
He shook his head. "I haven't talked to Al yet", he admitted. "We're pretty shorthanded right now. I had to get some of this done before I give Ecklie even more ammunition to use against me."
Catherine sighed unhappily. "Yeah, I know the feeling. You're lucky we're having a good week, or there's no way I'd be giving you Nick".
He glanced at her, noticing she looked a bit haggard herself. Her new job had to be taking its toll on her. It was a big shift from CSI to supervisor.
"How's your caseload going?"
She shrugged idly. "Warrick and I are on the only case. It's pretty cut and dry. Convenience store robbery. The perp was the owner's brother, looking for his cut on the profits. Warrick's finishing it up now."
Footsteps sounded at the door, and they both glanced around as Nick stopped at the threshold, holding a thin wad of papers in his fist. He looked slightly pale, and frowned as he looked at them.
"Hey Nicky, what's up?" Catherine asked, looking slightly concerned.
Nick pursed his lips, glancing down at the file again. "I uh, did a background check on both of the owners of the house in our case", he said reluctantly.
Grissom stared at him strangely, and Catherine took it upon herself to speak up. "So what did you turn up?" she prompted receptively.
Nick licked his lips, seemingly uncharacteristically surprised by what he had uncovered. He sighed. "Okay, well, Louise Sutton? She changed her name".
They both looked at him blankly. Hardly the significant admission they had been expecting.
"So?" Grissom said, unimpressed.
Nick met his gaze head on. "So", he said emphatically. "Her real name… is Laura Sidle".
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