Hi ya!
Sorry it's taken so long to update! My sister wouldn't leave me alone about wanting to type this chapter, so I finally let her. And it took her awhile to type! But here I am!
Let's make these reviews quick before you all kill me:
Rehgai: Thanks! Can't wait for you to update too!
tria246815: Thanks for the review! I'm getting closer!
Stormchilde: Geez, you are too smart for your own good! J/K. I guess I'm not all that great at writing mysterious cliffies huh?
combatcrazy: (Types feverishly) I'm given her all she's got capin! I'm doin my best! I won't let my sis type the next one so maybe it'll go faster.
James' Grl: Cool! I've never had a major kick butt story before! I'm glad you like it!
: I still haven't given up! I'm just movin VERY SLOW!
angw: Don't worry. I'll have all the main characters in here, starting this chappie! I'm still thinking about if I should add Archie and some of the others too.
Thanx to all of you! I didn't talk to anyone last time cuz I was in a hurry, but I will try from now on.
Oh, and if anyone was wondering why toxicat was being so creepy in her reviews to me; don't worry; it's just my weird little sister. She thought it would be funny to make up a name and try to scare me. Well, it doesn't work when I walk downstairs while she's writing the review huh?
KK, nuff talk. Here we go!
Disclaimer: All I own, is the plot of the story, the chaotic mess I lovingly call my bedroom, and (digs in pockets) 37 cents! Do you think that's enough to buy CSI from CBS? Guess not. I'll keep saving though!
A Clue Found
XxX
"Tyler Mitchell, first victim. 32, Caucasian. Worked for the LVPD." Grissom placed a photo on the table of a brown haired male; lying straight on the ground with his hands at his sides and a wallet on his chest.
"Katie Peters," Catherine began in the same matter with a picture of a red head, "40, Hispanic. Part of Ballistics in the Day Shift."
Warrick sighed as he took his turn. "Mike Stevens. 64, African American. Head of the SWAT team until his retirement."
"And Debbie Thompson," Sara concluded. "27, Caucasian. LVPD Evidence Department."
The group looked over the four photos lying on the table. The silence in the room was almost unnerving, and no one seemed to want to break it first. Finally, Greg became too anxious to sit quietly any longer.
"Well," he started awkwardly, "I'm guessing it's safe to say that this is the same killer? All killed by a blunt object to the head, causing major blood loss. Fingers rubbed down to the bone. And the position they were all found in."
Grissom nodded. "No real connections between any of them except for their jobs in the police force."
"You think this is a random hit? Just taking out cops?" Nick asked, the fear barely visible in his Texan drawl.
Grissom shook his head. "No, they want us to know who they are; hence the ID and wallet left in plain view. There must be a common link between the four."
Sara examined the pictures closely. "All of them have filed down fingers. It can't be to stop identification. You think they were locked up somewhere, and tried to scratch their way out?"
Catherine shrugged. "It's happened before, so it's not impossible. The problem is, where were they trying to escape from?"
"We're getting nowhere with this," Warrick yelled out, throwing his hands up in frustration, "We have all six of us on the case and we still haven't caught a lead. We know how each of them were killed and the wounds they received, but we don't even know if they were hit in the back of the head before or after filing their fingers away!"
Grissom looked up at the clock. "All right, shift ended an hour ago. Everyone go home and get some sleep. Come back with fresh eyes and minds tonight." Everyone muttered their approval and filed out of the room. Grissom waited until he and Greg were the only two left before he spoke. "Greg. I need to speak to you."
The young, spiky-haired CSI turned back to his boss in slight confusion, then walked fully back into the room. "What's up boss?"
Grissom smiled slightly at the perkiness of his young friend, but he knew the news he was about to give would shatter Greg's mood. "I've been having a very bad feeling about this case from the start, Greg, and it's only gotten worse. So, I want you to stay in the lab until this case is closed. No field work until this is solved."
The smile had immediately dropped from Greg's face, being replaced by a look of anger and shock. "You can't be serious Grissom. I've been working this case from the field since the beginning, way before Nick, Sara and Warrick were brought in. You can't pull me off just because of a feeling."
Grissom shook his head. "I'm sorry Greg. You're still new at this. And as long as this guy is attacking PD officials, I want to know where you are at all times."
Greg listened in disbelief, slowly becoming hysterical. "Then why not pull Catherine and the others off? They are in as much danger as I am Grissom, and that includes you too!"
"My decision is final Greg. As of right now, you are not allowed out of the lab with any info pertaining to this case."
Greg shook his head in disbelief before quietly making his way out the door. Grissom thought he had made the right choice and gotten through to Greg; until a few hours later when Greg got the call from Catherine.
XxX
The factory district was completely empty, save for the black Tahoe speeding toward the main building. Slamming the brakes, the driver ran out of the car, soon followed by the passenger.
"It's supposed to be next to the light post," Grissom said as he ran, Catherine close behind. The only post near the building was sitting out in front of the main entrance.
Catherine trained her eyes on the fixture and saw the small outline. "There it is!"
They both dropped to their knees next to the small box and, using a flashlight, saw what was written on the top:
I see you came. Greg would be so happy.
Grissom quickly dawned a pair of gloves and lifted the box, then turned back toward the car. Catherine watched him for a minute before yelling back. "What are you doing! We need to see if anything in there can help us!"
Grissom didn't stop as his voice drifted back to her. "I know. We are getting the whole team on this. They deserve to know."
Catherine was crying now, but she knew he was right. The more people on the case, the faster they could think up a way to find Greg. Standing quickly, she ran to catch up with Grissom's retreating form.
XxX
Running through the front doors, Nick Stokes looked at his watch in worry. "Oh man, Gris is gonna kill me!" Rounding the corner, he came to a screeching halt in front of the break room. "I'm really sorry I'm late! There was a huge traffic jam and-"
"Save it cowboy, Grissom isn't here."
Nick had dropped his hands to his knees and was trying to catch his breath, but he snapped his head up to see only two of his teammates occupying the room. Sara Sidle was smirking slightly from her spot on the couch, a cup of coffee in one hand and a magazine in her lap. Warrick Brown was leaning against the counter across the room, drinking his own coffee.
Nick was fully confused now. He looked in every direction, making sure that his supervisor wasn't hiding in the shadows, ready to knock down on him for being late. "Where's he at? And Catherine and Greg too?"
Warrick shrugged. "Gris and Cath haven't been around for awhile. And judging by this sludge Day Shift calls coffee, Greg hasn't been here yet either."
Sara looked at her watch. "Shift started over an hour ago. Where could they be?"
Nick shrugged, and then noticed the evil little glare coming from Warrick's direction. "What?" He asked slowly, but with a smile creeping onto his face.
Warrick returned the smile. "There isn't a traffic jam anywhere near here. Did you just forget to set your alarm, or, did someone get lucky this morning?"
Sara looked up from her magazine and walked the Texan in interest. Nick glared at his friend as he leaned against the door. "For your information, I did set my alarm this morning, I just kinda kept pushing the snooze for another hour."
"Right," Warrick said slowly, but was cut off as loud footsteps could be heard running toward them.
Nick barely got out of the way before Grissom and Catherine shot into the room. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where's the fire?"
Both of the senior officers ignored Nick's comment and went straight to the table. "Everyone get over here, now." Grissom left no room for objection as the younger three walked quietly up to the table.
Grissom had put a small box on the table so they could read what was written on top.
I see you came. Greg would be so happy.
"What's going on?" Sara asked, starting to get worried, "Where's Greg?"
Grissom kept his gaze locked on the box. No one could read his expression as he spoke clearly. "Greg has been kidnapped. We are starting to believe it was our serial killer."
Nick and Warrick's eyes grew wide as Sara covered her mouth to muffle a gasp. Grissom took a knife from the counter and carefully broke the tape around the box. Inside were a walkie-talkie and an envelope. Setting the talkie to the side for the moment, he turned over the envelope and noticed it had been sealed.
"Maybe there's some DNA on it from licking the seal," Catherine said hopefully.
Warrick shook his head. "Doubt it. This plan looks too well planned out to pull some rookie mistake like that."
Grissom didn't answer as he took the knife again and cut down the side to preserve the seal. Out fell a letter and a picture. The letter was very short.
Say hello to your friend.
Lifting up the picture, everyone gasped. There was Greg, lying in an open coffin. Wire ties tied his hand and legs together and slight signs of blood could be seen underneath his head.
"Oh my God no," Nick whispered, "Please no."
"He can't be dead, he just can't." Sara was mumbling to herself over and over again.
Catherine looked at Grissom with pure rage in her tear-streaked eyes. "He said he wouldn't kill Greg if we did as he said! What do we do now!"
Grissom seemed too lost in his thoughts to hear her. His gaze was shifting between the picture and the letter. Then, one look at the walkie-talkie and it suddenly snapped. "It has two meanings."
Warrick looked at his boss in complete confusion, and put to words what everyone else was thinking. "What?"
Grissom emphasized. "The letter means two things. 'Say hello to your friend' in the picture, and in the literal way!"
Grissom grabbed the talkie and yelled clearly into it. "Greg. Can you hear me? Greg!"
For several long moments everything was quiet, except for the static of the walkie-talkie. Then-
"KCHHH…Grissom?..KCHHH"
XxX
Woohoo! There's chappie three! I think it's my longest one yet!
I just want to point out again that I DID NOT write this story as a spin off type thing from "Grave Danger". I have had this idea for a long time, and I wanted to read through other peoples' stories first to make sure the idea hadn't been used already. Than, when I saw that CSI was airing a plot pretty much exactly like my story, I wanted to get my first chappie out before the episode aired. I wrote it the day before the show aired, so it was very spur of the moment. I went back through my first 2 chappies and fixed miniscule things, but everything should be good now. Just please don't think I only wrote this because of that episode. Ok, I'm done now!
Now we know what happened to poor Greggo and the rest of the team has found a way to maybe communicate with him. What will the conversation be like? Found out soon!
Still working on my 51-review goal! You guys are the best!
C ya!
Kittyluv