Discretion
By Joan Powers
A/N: I've been sitting on this story for over a year now, it's actually the first CSI piece I ever wrote. It was easy to start but a royal pain in the neck to finish. It's a little different than what I usually write. Believe it or not, this how I think TPTB would show a G/S love story, subtly done as a CSI case file, complete with gory disgusting details. For a change, I'll be posting a short excerpt everyday until the story is competed. Special thanks to smryczko, Ms.Grits, and Eileen for their constructive comments.
Type: Suspense, G/S romance
Summary: The discovery of one of their own in peril prompts an intense investigation, which reveals much more than the CSI team anticipates.
Timeline: Post Bloodlines yet prior to Season 5
Rating: PG-13
Catherine Willows pulled her Denali adjacent to the convenience store and swiftly found a place to park. She muffled a yawn as she stashed her keys in her pocket, clipped her cell phone on to her belt, and then grabbed her equipment from the trunk of her vehicle. She sighed.
It's too damn late for this. It's practically five thirty a.m.
Her shift was supposed to have been over in just thirty minutes. Guiltily, she'd been watching the clock, looking forward to possibly having breakfast with her daughter. But now, it looked as if she was going to be working much longer. Oh well, she could use the overtime pay.
And Lindsay would be okay at the neighbors for breakfast then getting to the school bus. A set of phone calls while driving here had set all that in motion. Childcare was always a hassle for a single mom, and this type of job with its unpredictable hours made it all the more challenging.
Still, she enjoyed what she did. She loved the thrill of solving the crimes and helping to put the bad guys away in jail. She especially liked the feeling that what she did was important and that it made a difference in other people's lives.
Warrick was already at the scene, speaking with some uniformed policeman. When he caught sight of her, he sauntered towards her and smiled warmly as he greeted her. "Good morning sunshine."
Catherine laughed ruefully.
"Tell me, how did we end up getting this call?" Warrick stifled a yawn. He too had been anxious to duck out just a little early. He'd just been dropping off some paperwork at the station when he was paged.
"Just lucky I guess," Catherine shrugged. "It figures that Grissom's on vacation." Occasionally he would switch calls with her so she could better juggle her childcare arrangements.
"Vacation?" Warrick's features registered surprise. " I didn't think he knew what the word meant."
"I didn't think so either."
Back to business, Catherine assessed the crime scene. Yellow tape marked off the convenience store parking lot and adjacent area. "So, where's the body?"
"Behind the store next to the dumpster. The garbage men called it in." The driver of the truck was off to the side of the store, speaking with the uniformed policeman on the scene.
"I'm impressed. They don't come to my neighborhood this early," Catherine joked wryly.
"In this heat? I think that would be a motivating factor." Warrick gestured to the noticeably pale stocky man who'd just emerged from the cluster of police and emergency vehicles. "Can you show us where you found the body?"
The man nodded.
As they walked through the asphalt parking lot, they passed the rest rooms then rounded the corner to the alley at back of the store. A large dumpster overflowing with trash greeted them.
Catherine nearly gagged. "I'm glad I didn't eat before I came here." She'd lost her appetite for breakfast and possibly lunch as well.
"Look at the size of those flies." Warrick swatted some as he took broader steps to approach a heap of trash, which was next to the dumpster. It was partially covered with a ragged blanket. The garbage collector pointed towards human fingers that were peaking past the edge of the blanket.
"Can I go now?" he pleaded. He looked as if he was going to be sick again.
"Did you touch anything?" Warrick asked.
"I might've bumped into 'it' while talking to Frank. I was just tryin' to do my job. Believe me, the minute I saw those fingers, I got the hell away from here," he stammered and swallowed uncomfortably.
"Check in with the uniformed officers out front to see if they need any additional information," Catherine advised him as he bolted. Then she and Warrick focused their attention on the body.
"What do we have here?" He half-whispered. Catherine quickly snapped some pictures of the concealed body as he examined the scene.
"Do you think someone was trying to heave the vic into the dumpster and missed?" he wondered.
Catherine considered it briefly. "No, the dumpster's too full. This baby hasn't been emptied in a long time. And to lift a body that high would've taken a lot of strength. The fact the vic was simply dumped on a pile of trash and only partially covered with a blanket indicates that they did a pretty sloppy job. Guess they were in a hurry."
"Nobody takes pride in their work their work anymore," Warrick mused. He put on his latex gloves and cautiously removed part of the blanket, which covered the victim. The body appeared to belong to a dark haired female possibly in her late twenties or thirties. He tried to wave the flies away from her body; they were attracted to the blood. She was hunched over, lying on her stomach. There was a small pool of blood beneath her face.
This part was never easy. But something didn't seem quite right to him. Wait a minute. Did he just see her back slightly rise then fall?
Warrick froze. "Oh my God, she's still breathing. Get the medics!"
The paramedics quickly raced over.
"Can you help me turn her over?" the EMT asked Warrick. He agreed to assist. "Careful, we don't want to aggravate any internal injuries." The men gently turned the woman onto her back and placed her on to a stretcher. She was taking shallow breaths, obviously in pain.
"Can you hear me?" Warrick futilely asked. He quickly documented her condition as the EMT did what he could. The victim's clothing was intact, though bloody. She was wearing khaki Capri pants and what was once a rose colored tie-dyed T-shirt. With a sickening twist in his stomach, he noted that the pants were noticeably bloody in the crotch.
Most horrifying was her face. It was terribly swollen: her nose was off center. Blood was splattered heavily on her face and T-shirt. Bruises were starting to form on her right check and temple.
"What happened to you?" he thought aloud.
Then his heart nearly skipped a beat as he bent closer to examine her misshapen face.
No, it can't be. It just can't.
He swallowed hard as bile rose in his throat. For the person he was looking at was Sara Sidle.
TBC