Disclaimer is back in Chapter One, but I'll reiterate that I don't own any character from the show "CSI."
Thank you all for reading! Please review! I'm almost done—two or three more chapters to write, and about five to post. Please stick with me!
Sara yawned as she schlumped into the house at 10 AM. She had called ahead, said she was staying to wait for test results from a hot case. Early into her first shift back from her break, they had received a call from the Las Vegas Metropolitan Sports Complex. There was a dead body in the pool, an apparent drowning. Brass had wryly told Grissom to, "Bring anyone you can find. This is hotter than porn."
Grissom had gathered Nick, Sofia, Sara, and Greg—Nick had been hanging around the lab talking with Sara and Greg when the call came in. It was only after they arrived at the pool that they learned the dead person was Skylar Westborough, a seventeen-year-old swimming star who was in town for the Sin City Swim Classic. Sara had spent over an hour combing a bare locker room with Sofia, finding only the girl's belongings; then Brass, after having deemed Sara the lab's new expert on teenaged girls, insisted that she be the one to the tell the dead girl's sister and best friend, also swimmers in town for the week. Grissom had handled the autopsy but Sara had clocked out, desperate for sleep and waffles, before hearing the results.
Sara was contemplating adding chocolate chips to the batter—the case had been that sad and the shift that hard—when Jules walked in to the kitchen. "Hey," Sara said, "Is Grace still asleep?" She knew that Lilly was at Grace House already; this was the first she'd seen the girls.
"She's waking up. Slowly." Jules said. After a slight hesitation, she said, "Is it true?"
"What?" Sara said, chewing a handful of chocolate chips.
"Skylar Westborough died last night. I heard it on the news."
"It got out already?" Sara was astonished.
"So it's true?" Jules sounded scandalized—interested and scandalized. "Are you on the case? What happened? Who are the suspects?"
"I can't tell you that. Want a waffle?"
"No, thanks, I'm more yogurt-and-cereal. Why can't you tell me? Come on." Jules begged.
"Jules, no, I can't, it's an active case. I'm not allowed to say anything."
"Are you investigating it?" She was thrilled.
"Yeah. It's me, Nick, Greg, Sofia, and Grissom."
"I haven't met Sofia and Grissom. I think I should come in to the lab tonight. You know, to meet them. And Brass and that David and Hodges and Archie and Jackie that Greg was talking about."
"Fine. But Grissom, Sofia, Hodges, David, Archie, and Jackie won't tell you anything either. There are legal ramifications."
"Her sisters swim. Did you get to meet them?"
"I only met one of them."
"Which one?"
"Caden. Cameron is apparently sick."
"Caden's better, anyways. That must suck. It's already tough being a twin, since you're always compared to each other, but to be the 'other' twin when you're still at the national level? Damn, that would suck. They have two younger sisters that are twins, too; half-sisters, really. Their names are Evan and Eden."
"Their mother had a crazy naming scheme going on."
"Does it matter? Those four-year-olds are probably better swimmers than ninety percent of the adult population. Are there any other swimmers in town for the meet?"
"Yeah. I also had to talk to a girl named Helen—Nellie, really—Van Heelen, they were rooming together. There were a couple of other girls, Sofia handled that one."
"So you got the girls closest to Skylar? She and Nellie Van Heelen have been training together for six or so years—Nellie lives with the Westboroughs because her parents moved back to Seattle. I saw it on ESPN. They did a whole program on Skylar. She went to the Olympic trials at age eleven, in the 100M Free. She's psychotically amazing."
"What else do you know about her?"
"Um….Her coach, Max Armstrong, has this amazing thing going in San Francisco. My coach in Sacramento knew him, and she brought him up one for a clinic. He's amazing. He coaches the Westborough girls, Nellie Van Heelen, and two other girls, and that's it. He just works with them. He whole program is amazing—he monitors everything; they work out like four hours a day. She's only done half-days at school since seventh grade—she'll take math, English, a science class, a history class, and leave. No electives. Then they've said she's dating this one guy who's a swimmer, Nate Danskeep. He's based in Texas, so I don't know how they date, or whatever, since she's in San Francisco. He's about twenty, and, my God, he is hot. Sara!" her eyes got wide. "Tell me you get to interview him. He's flipping amazing looking! Please tell me that! Get a picture or something! Have you met him yet?"
There was an expectant silence. The case could very well hinge on Nate Danskeep—both Nellie Van Heelen and Caden Westborough said the last time they'd seen Skylar was when she was planning to go out with Nate for the evening. "No. Not yet. We have to find him, first."
"He's missing?" Jules practically shouted with glee. "Damn, this is cool! Do you think there will be a police chase or anything?"
Sara raised an eyebrow. "No," she said succinctly. "It's not as melodramatic as you'd like it to be." She pressed the batter into the waffle oven.
Grace stumbled down into the kitchen. "That smells good," she said, crossing to
the bread drawer and getting a bran muffin.
"Want one?" Sara volunteered, pulling the top of the press off with a warm hss.
"No, thanks." She said. "This is plenty."
"Want to go to the lab tonight?" Jules said eagerly.
"Yeah, sure. We should just get home before Mom goes to bed and all."
"Awesome. I can't wait."
"Why?" Grace said quizzically. "On Friday night when Warrick, Greg, and Nick invited you to the lab you said that you'd rather meet them over pizza."
"I've changed my mind," Jules said airily. Then she caved, "I'm just really interested in this case. Skylar Westborough died."
"The swimmer?" Grace said interestedly, grabbing a banana.
"Yeah. She died. And Sara's got the case."
"Really?" Grace smiled. "That's awesome."
"Not really." Sara said. She buttered her waffle, and then rolled it so that she could eat it more quickly. "Usually, we stay at the lab. I need to sleep a little. I just came home to make sure everything was fine; I'm going back as soon as I take a nap."
"Can we come with?" Grace said suddenly, in a rush of words. There was a difference between joking about going to the lab and actually going, and it made Grace a little nervous.
Sara turned slightly and smiled tentatively. She, too, knew that it was some sort of invisible line being crossed, an outstretched hand, a potential bond. It implied comfort and security in a relationship that nobody in the triumvirate really felt quite yet. "Yeah. Sure. I'm going to go sleep now."