Chapter Twenty-Five
II
Warrick Brown was furious. Not just angry, no. Anger you had a change of controlling, even if it was a fire in pit of your stomach.
This was a fire storm.
Not Lindsey. Not Catherine. He wouldn't let anyone harm them, not while his body and blood could shield them. No.
He balled his fists as he leaned against the wall, watching people walk past him, some more purposely than others. Like a second vein of blood, this lab, keeping him alive and his heart beating. And somehow living it, he'd found all the things he'd never truly had before. A family. A purpose. His grandmother had tried as well she could to give him all, but there was limited to what one person could do. But she had tried and he had loved her and perhaps now, he finally did understand.
No matter how much you loved, you couldn't shield someone forever. His grandmother hadn't been able to, Catherine couldn't for Lindsey. He couldn't for Lindsey. No safety from killers. No safety from life.
But Warrick still intended to try his best, and he closed his eyes and listened to the rage within. Rage against life, himself, Alan Keyes, even for a brief moment at his own 'father', the man who had just walked away.
Her heard steps approached and opened his eyes to see Catherine stand before him, worry and fear and a mirror of his own rage in her eyes.
"Lindsey recognised a picture of him we found at the Keyes' family home. It was Alan Keyes who gave her that rose."
He let out a painful breath. "He must have found out she was your daughter and followed her."
"Yes," she said, voice tight. "We're all getting 24-hour police protection."
"Swell."
"I told Lindsey the truth," she went on, biting her lip slightly. "I thought maybe she'd understand."
"Did she?"
"I don't know. I don't know anything any more."
He put a hand on her arm, feeling how cold her skin was. "You know yourself. Let's start from there."
She smiled faintly. "Warrick Brown wisdom?"
"Grandma Brown wisdom," he corrected fondly. "Listen Cath, I was thinking... Police protection is well and good, but maybe it would be good for Lindsey to stay somewhere else for a while?"
She shook her head. "Mom's out of town. I don't wanna worry her and Sam... No way in hell will Sam watch my daughter."
"I was thinking of my grandmother, actually. She's great with kids and this guy's shown a fascination with you, not me."
"Would she mind?"
"Nah. She knows a fair bit about you and your daughter from me already. Besides, I kinda ran it by her a bit earlier on the phone."
"Flattery must run in the family," she said affectionately. "I'll talk to Lindsey. And your grandma. She's still got the same number, right?"
"Yeah," he replied and she gave him a smile as she slipped away again, looking slightly more upbeat than a moment ago. It was something, at least. He could settle for making her life a little better, making her burden a little lighter, knowing he couldn't fix it all or heal all. That too was a lesson of his grandmother. You couldn't carry someone's whole house. But you could be a pillar.
'You'll be tall enough for that, Warrick,' she declared in his mind, he smiled at the echo of days past, remembering. Simpler times back then, if they held their own hurts. Grieving his mother, grieving his father, or rather the father he had wanted. Not the gene donor he'd gotten.
Parents and children. Something that should be so simply so often wasn't. His family hadn't been and neither was his second family in this lab.
"Hey, 'Rick!" Brass called out, striding over and tearing Warrick's attention back to the hallway. "A neighbour reported something smelling from an apartment at Chapman Drive. Turns out the apartment is owned by John Keyes and the smell was a dead body. Nick's already on it."
"No wonder we couldn't find him," Warrick sighed, rubbing his temples absentmindedly and feeling the effects of little sleep. "Brother probably offed him days ago."
"Better not let Grissom hear you supply theories without having even looked at the evidence or he'll send you to work for me," Brass replied dryly. "I hear Grissom's on his way home."
"Yeah."
They lapsed into silence for a moment, Warrick letting his thoughts drift. Alan Keyes. Grissom would probably tell him to look at the evidence to make sure, but Warrick could already feel what the evidence was telling him. Alan Keyes. Alan Keyes had killed three women, maybe his own brother, had hurt Catherine and might have planned to hurt Lindsey.
His rage was screaming of deserved death, but he forced that back with a deep breath. Justice. Justice, not revenge. He'd failed Grissom on that once before, he couldn't again. Justice. No matter how loudly his blood pulsated with the desire for revenge, he could not, would not listen.
Not this time. Justice. Justice.
His nails burrowed into his palm and he had to force himself to unclench his fist and breathe calmly.
"Hey, Warrick?" Brass interrupted, giving him an understanding look. "We'll find him. He's not gonna touch Catherine or Lindsey."
'He already did,' Warrick thought, feeling the thought as a burn across his chest. Lindsey would remember. Catherine was still bruised. They had already been touched and touches lingered in memories even as the traces faded on the skin.
"He's probably still in Vegas," he said instead. "Easier to hide in a crowd. And he's not done here yet. He won't be done until we catch him. Signature killers never are."
"Some days, you sound more and more like Grissom," Brass replied, shaking his head lightly. "Try not to start talking to bugs, though."
"I'll try just for you, Brass."
"Oh, I'm sure."
They both chuckled slightly, as Warrick's phone gave an angry ring. With a sigh, he replied, hoping it wasn't yet more bad news.
"Brown."
"Hey, it's me. I'm at the scene," the familiar voice of Nick said, "we'll have to wait for DNA and prints on the body, but it's definitely male and have been dead a few days at least. Signs of struggle. I found some interesting tyre tracks outside. Same as I found while we were searching for you guys, I think. I'll confirm it at the lab."
"Need a hand?"
"Nah. Besides, you guys are still officially off and you know the Sheriff."
"Yeah. Thanks, man. Talk to you later."
"The wife?" Brass asked as Warrick hung up.
"Yeah, always ordering me about," he replied, watching Catherine emerge and come striding towards them. She looked tired and her step had none of her usual energy. "Hey. Nick called. We may have found our missing John Keyes. Dead body at one of his apartments. Been dead a few days."
"Nick's on it?"
"Yep."
She nodded slowly. "Lindsey is willing to go, your grandma is more than willing to watch her, so I guess we'll let her stay there a few days. Brass, could we maybe get some not so obvious cops keeping their dutiful eye on them? One of your guys is taking a statement from her now."
"Anything for you, Catherine," Brass said, giving her arm a pat. "I'll be right back."
As Brass walked away, Catherine looked up at Warrick and he noticed the dark circles under her eyes and glimmer of tears she was fighting back. He wanted to sweep her up in a hug, but restrained himself. Not here, not in a hallway where anyone might see. There was probably enough gossip in the lab already without him adding yet more to it.
"Hey. You okay?"
"Yeah. Lindsey kicked me out. Guess I was being too anxious or hovering." She bit her lip so hard he was surprised it didn't draw blood. "He asked her to go with him, Warrick. She didn't, but... I could have lost her. I could have lost Lindsey."
"Hey, hey," he broke in. "You didn't. You raised her with enough sense not to go with strangers. He obviously didn't dare take her by force with her friend there and he wasn't been given any more opportunities. He won't have any more opportunities. Who knows, maybe he's just trying to rattle us."
"Maybe," she said unconvincingly and rubbed her eyelids. "I just want to get this guy behind bars and sleep for a week."
"After this, I think you've earned a holiday," he said softly and took a strand of her hair between his fingers, looking at it intently before tucking it behind her ear.
"Didn't you promise me one?"
"I always keep my promises."
"That you do," she whispered and he could feel the heat from her body calling to his and her eyes spoke of another warmth altogether.
"You, me and Lindsey on a beach. You can sleep and tan in the sun and I'll be your boy toy," he murmured, daring a brief touch of her check.
"You can be that," she replied and lifted her eyes to meet his. "But I'd prefer it if you were Warrick, long-time friend and currently my live-in boyfriend."
Something he would call joy if it weren't so peaceful and quiet seemed to fill him and he smiled at her. "I think I can do that too."
"Good," she said and stepped back a little reluctantly, probably noticing they were getting some attention. "Let's catch this guy and get to that holiday, huh?"
"Yeah," he agreed, wishing saying it would make it real, would make it over, would make the guy be jailed already. Life was never that simple, never that wish fulfilling. But Grissom was coming home, Sara and Greg were coming home. Together, the lab could catch this guy. His second family and for a moment, he let himself miss them together, working as one.
Family. Catherine, Lindsey and him. And Nick, Greg, Sara and Grissom. Maybe even Brass, the cranky older uncle.
And his blood was still roaring for revenge to the family's threat, but he didn't listen, wouldn't listen. Not this time.
Not this time.
