Disclaimer: We don't own...yet. So, you don't sue yet either. :p
Chapter 2
Jim Brass was already standing on the house's tiny porch as the four criminalists approached. His face, not exactly a cheerful-looking one at the best of times, was looking even more serious than usual. He didn't even bother with pleasantries as Grissom, Warrick, Sara and Nick drew up in front of him.
"Vic's a young Chinese woman," Brass said. "Shot four times. Twice in the chest, twice in the head. Somebody wanted her to go down and stay down." He paused, looking at Grissom dolefully. "I found this." He handed Grissom a worn, dog-eared photograph. Grissom looked down at it.
The photograph was of a young woman, presumably the vic because of her race, and a younger, beardless but unmistakably Gil Grissom.
Peering over his shoulder, Sara gave an exclamation and stated the obvious. "Grissom, that's you!"
"You think?" Warrick shot at her, his green eyes widening a little as he stared at the picture.
Sara glared at him. "Well, what's Grissom doing in that picture, Warrick?"
Warrick struggled for a witty comeback as Grissom, oblivious to their banter, stared at the picture as if he'd seen a ghost. Only Nick seemed to notice how rattled his boss was. "Grissom? You okay?"
"Grissom is being photographed in that picture," Warrick managed finally as Grissom finally seemed to come back to himself.
"Yes Nick, I'm fine," he answered Nick's question.
Grissom looked up at Brass. "Where is she? I need to see her." Brass jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the open door. Heedless of his colleagues, Grissom made his way over the threshold. The woman from the picture was lying on the ground some three or four feet away from the front door - it looked as if the lock had been forced, Grissom noticed in the back of his mind - ugly gunshot wounds marring her forehead and chest.
But even with the GSWs, Grissom still recognized her. He would have recognized her if she had been dressed in clown's clothing with a purple wig and make-up. It was Lee Nha. The CSI supervisor stood looking at the corpse of the woman he had once loved, fighting the urge to get down next to her and contaminate the evidence by holding her in his arms.
For yes, even the great Gil Grissom was human, shocking as it was for his three younger colleagues to find out.
It was too much. Grissom stunned his co-workers further by doing a sharp about-face and barreling outside to throw up into the bushes.
His colleagues looked at each other. Sara was the first to leave the group, approaching the gasping Grissom as one might approach a dangerous wild animal. "Grissom," she said softly. "What happened in there?"
"I knew her, Sara," Grissom said, leaning over with his hands on his knees, fighting back the gag reflex. That was the first time he could remember - in over twenty years - that he'd felt like that. He suspected he'd feel the same way if he saw one of his CSIs like that. They were his family.
"How about you take the perimeter with Warrick," Sara said kindly, sensing that she shouldn't push the issue. Grissom was an intensely proud, private person - and that little lapse in the impenetrable facade of his would no doubt leave him not wanting to be faced with a barrage of questions. "Me and Nick can take the inside."
Grissom nodded gratefully, straightening up. "Yeah. Thanks, Sara."
She gave him a thoughtful look before turning and heading back to the house.
The CSI supervisor took a moment to compose himself, before taking a deep breath and nodding to Warrick as they moved to do their jobs.
Inside, Sara was photographing Lee Nha's body, while Nick headed upstairs to examine the bedroom, though from the open account books on the table in the hall, Sara didn't think he would find anything there. Still, Grissom always said to assume nothing. Sara sighed to herself, wondering vaguely what it would be like to work with a guy who didn't think opinions were a contagious disease.
Upstairs, Lee Nha's bedroom was neat, tidy and spotless, compared to the scene downstairs. Nick went over everything with a fine tooth comb, but found nothing - nothing that was relevant to their case, that is. He did find something he thought Grissom might be interested in, though, even though now might not be the best time to show it to him. Lee Nha had kept a small diary, from the day she first left China for Vegas, apparently. Nick didn't read it, both out of respect to the dead victim and also to his boss' privacy.
Nick left that room, and headed next for the room next to it. He was surprised to find kids' toys and books scattered all over this room, and he called down to Brass, "Hey Captain? Did anyone mention Lee Nha had a kid?"
"A kid? No," Brass called back. Footsteps sounded on the stairs as the heavy-footed Captain made his way to where Nick was. "What'd you find?"
"This is a child's room," said Nick, flatly motioning with his hand. He stooped to pick up a yo-yo off the floor. "From the mess, I'd say it belongs to a boy."
Brass raised an eyebrow at Nick. "My daughter's room was only clean at the start of each year after spring cleaning. After that, no one could find anything in that room except her. I'd swear she had a map of all the muck."
The CSI shrugged. Kicked at a toy soccer ball. "Well, I thought girls preferred dolls to sports."
"Nicky, what you know about girls could be written on a piece of paper the size of my thumbnail," said Brass acerbically. He paused. "Hey - did you hear that?"
Nick had heard it, too. It sounded like a child crying. He frowned and looked around the room, his eyes finally falling on the bed pushed up against the wall. It was small enough for someone - say, a kid - to crawl underneath. Nick picked his way gingerly over the mess on the floor and crouched by the bed, switching on his flashlight and pointing it underneath the bed...
To illuminate the small, huddled shape of a little boy.
Brass blinked at Nick's back. "What have you got?"
"A live one," Nick replied. "I think." He reached out with a gloved hand and touched the miniature shoulder. It was unmistakably a boy - the hair was short, and he wore baggy shorts and what looked like a Transformers t-shirt. Matches the room, Nick thought, noting the ancient spaghetti stains on the shirt. "Hey," he said gently. "You wanna come out of there, kiddo? It's safe now."
The kid flinched at Nick's touch, but he raised his head, treating Nick to a pair of terrified blue eyes, and features not unlike the vic's, even though Nick noted the chinese features were softer in him. Meaning, he was only half-chinese.
"Is he hurt?" asked Brass, moving forward to see.
Nick was not a stupid man. Far from it, in fact - stupid people wouldn't get anywhere as a CSI, and Nick hadn't got to this point by being lucky. He was able to put two and two together and make four. In this case, he took the picture of Grissom and the victim, Grissom's reaction to the body, and this little boy with distinctly un-Chinese features and came up with...
"Nick? Is the kid okay?" Brass repeated. Nick shook himself.
"I think so. Pretty freaked out, though." He returned his wandering gaze to the child. "Come on, kiddo. Let's get you out of here."
The little boy looked up at Nick, sniffling, and suddenly threw himself at the startled CSI.
"Whoa, okay," soothed Nick, rubbing the kid's back.
Blue eyes looked into his, Nick noting that he was not much more than five-years old as he asked, "My mom's dead, isn't she?"
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Hah! Two chapters for the price of one review!
Side note: Rhi isn't feeling too good, so Jason: Reloaded will not go on until she's better. Deal with it. (a beat...bursts into tears)
Poor Rhi! (sniffles)
Be kind to her guys, make her happy...review!