Nick sent another round of e-mails to Conrad Ecklie about the progress on the latest cases. Warrick's robbery was a slam dunk, a very sloppy inside job. Sofia's rape suspect was seeking a plea bargain agreement with the D.A., after his lewd video tape collection had been sorted out. The one incriminating tape had been located and the man's lawyer was all ready trying to swindle a deal.

Nick had let Sofia go home. Her shift had ended, and his was now entering into the post twenty-four window. His coworkers were finishing interviews and he was going to make sure they all got to go home. The case was stalled, but Nick knew it was bound to break wide open. There was something in his gut. He asked Jim Brass to pressure some of the out-of-state police departments to send over their case reports on the missing children around the time the family had lived in each city. Maybe if they were able to read over the original investigations, they could find a pattern that the other police didn't know existed. The captain was calling in favors to have those past cases sent to the Lab by tomorrow night. Nick finished up on the computer and headed towards his interview with the coach of the school that Johnny and Jason had attended. He rounded a corner and entered the room, where the man had been waiting on him for the past few minutes.

Nick made formal introductions and sat across from the other man. Brent Nero looked to be in his early thirties, with a crew cut and broad shoulders. He was a cookie cutter description of a sports director, the typical all-American guy. He eyed the criminalist with some interest, his expression serious.

"How can I help you, Mr. Stokes?" he asked.

Nick decided to use a different tactic with this witness. All the others seemed to stonewall them. Perhaps this time, another approach might work. The CSI leaned forward, maintaining eye contact.

"I need your help to find out what happened to Johnny Todd." Nick watched as the coach seemed to take a more energized posture.

His blue eyes sparkled with intensity. "Anything. You name it. I've spent quite a bit of time with Johnny this year. He was an amazing kid, quite talented. I'll do whatever it takes to put the bastard responsible for his death behind bars."

Nick chewed on his lip. "You saw him four times a week. Did he ever confide in you about problems at home, or perhaps something that was bothering him?"

Nick took a long breath for dramatic effect. "I think people have not been been very forthcoming during this investigation. Something's not right, Mr. Nero. I really need your opinion and observations."

The coach stared at Nick and seemed to study him for a moment. "I'm a mentor for kids, sir. But, I don't talk to every one of them as much as I would like to."

Nick smiled. "I played sports all my life, Coach. I know who I could turn to if I needed to talk to anyone outside my family. I won't be breaking any bond you have with your team."

Brent Nero tilted his head to one side. He played with the end of his shirt sleeve, rubbing at the fabric. "I can't come across as playing favorites, but, yeah I hung out with Johnny. He wanted to be better player to impress his dad. He was a star member of my team, so of course I tried to help develop him."

Nick sat back in his chair. His voice light, he shrugged his shoulders. "He didn't say anything odd to you of late?"

"Not really. I mean... I want to help… but he never really spoke about anything other then correcting an issue with his swing."

Nick felt his cheeks burn slightly. Another act. He was really getting tired of the same song and dance. "Doesn't Mr. Todd contribute money to the school sports program?'

Brent Nero stood up, his chair squeaking on the floor. He pointed to the school T-shirt he was wearing. "I'm a proud member of this faculty. My responsibilities are to my school and to the safety of its students. Just because Matt donates a lot of money to the sports program doesn't mean I'd turn my back on any family problems."

Brent rolled up his sleeves, revealing tattoos up and down his arms. He flexed his muscles then slammed a fist into his other palm. "I try to be there for my kids. If I ever got any hint of problems, then I'd help take care of the issue... if you know what I mean."

The coach glared at the investigator. Nick got up as well and went around the table. He stood in the room, his face an open book of his frustration and anger. When he spoke his voice was an octave lower. The cords around his neck stood out beneath the skin.

"I'm trying to find out what happened to an innocent child who was killed and dumped like garbage in an alley. If I have to question your loyalties to do so, then I will. I don't care whose toes I step on in the process," Nick growled, never taking his eyes off the other man.

Coach Nero didn't even seem to blink. He never took his eyes off the criminalist, as he clenched and unclenched his fists that hung to his side. "It's fine, Mr. Stokes. I'm glad there is someone with so much passion behind this case. I want to protect my team from anything, but I can't be there all the time."

He stepped closer to the lead CSI. "I really hope you catch the asshole that did this. Give me just a few minutes in a locked room with him when you do," he snarled.

Nick looked down; the other man's body trembled with anger. The two men were almost feeding off each other's emotions. It was uncomfortable and Nick felt like such an amateur for letting a witness see his unprofessional side.

"Thanks for your time," Nick mentioned softly. Not wanting to continue with eye contact he studied the ink that adorned the coach's arms.

"I thought a school might balk at those tattoos," he said, pointing at them. Nick really wanted to speak about something off topic to settle down nerves.

The criminalist noted the "Victory or Death" printed over a shield on the man's right arm.

The coach chuckled. "You can't say anything about my art when you got as good a winning record as I do," he beamed.

Nick laughed. "I guess not," he said, clearing his throat.

The lead CSI let the coach go, and tried not to bang his head against the wall. Another dead end. This case was slipping away and his criminalist gut told him that the team was missing some link to everything.

He glanced at his watch and groaned. It was time to go home. The CSI prayed that the next shift would yield some better leads.

Nick entered his home and headed for the kitchen. He saw the light to his answering machine blinking and hit the button as he rummaged through his fridge for food.

"Hey Nick, its Lori. Call me."

The criminalist smiled. He had meet Lori at a camera store. His visits there were made on a fairly regular bases, between work and all of his bird watching hobbies. After several months of flirting, they had exchanged phone numbers. Nick wasn't in the mood to go on a date this weekend. The two of them could wait; it wasn't like he had been searching for anyone of late. Nick grabbed a sandwich he had made, and went over to his sofa to veg out on whatever game was on. He may have had good and bad streaks of luck when it came to women, but it wasn't like it was ever hard for him to meet anyone. The problem wasn't with sex- that was something had never had any difficulties with. No, it was finding any kind of meaningful relationship, and with the type of work he was involved in- well, it didn't really leave time for a normal personal life.

Nick sighed. There was nothing on TV, so he found a game that his TiVo had recorded and sat back to watch the Rangers vs. the Braves for an inter-league game. Nick was fast asleep an hour later.

'It's our secret and no one should ever know.'

Nick woke with a start; he felt his heart thunder in his chest as he looked around his living room in confusion. It was nighttime, and the sun no longer drifted into the room. He had fallen asleep on his couch, and groaned when he felt a crick in his neck.

"I don't like keeping secrets, Laura. Why do we have to hide from everyone?"

A male voice raged from his television.

Nick looked over at the night time drama. One of those hunky actors was whining about something to some blonde bimbo. The leggy actress strode over to Ken Doll, placing her fingertips to the man's lips.

"It's better this way. Your father would be very upset if he ever found out about us."

Nick grabbed the remote and quickly turned off the program as a slight tremble made his hand shake slightly. His DVR unit had shut off after the game, leaving on some terrible prime time soap opera. Nick wiped his hand over his clammy face and looked back at his moist hand from his sweat-soaked hair. He shook his head and disgust and went to his bathroom for a shower.

He had a couple of hours before the start of shift and wanted to head to work early.

Once Nick was back at the lab, he was assaulted with the backlog from day shift cases. He sifted through paperwork and tried to prioritize which cases he would hand off to grave, while trying to keep as many people from his team on the current case. He was in the middle of dismissing one of the

CSI's from days, so distracted that he had not noticed Conrad Ecklie standing behind him.

"Stokes."

Nick startled easily sometimes, but he felt like a fool when he did so in from of the Lab Assistant Director. The older man gave him an odd look.

"Where are you getting on this Todd case?"

"It's still ongoing. I sent you---"

Ecklie waved his hand at the younger man cutting him off. "I can read,

Nick," he said, obviously annoyed. "What I want to know is, are you close to a suspect?"

Nick crossed his arms across his chest and in sincere confidence answered, "I believe so."

The Assistant Director didn't look very impressed. "Well, I hope for your sake, it's someone outside the family. Matt Todd has long arms in this community, and whatever you might have on him better be airtight," he said gruffly.

Nick worked his jaw before rebuffing, but didn't have time as Ecklie looked at his watch. "Look, I've got to be at the other side of the city for a dinner with the Mayor, then it's meetings for two days. I'll be staying at the Elicer, but my phone is always on. Try to get something concrete, before this case gets too cold. I want a viable suspect soon."

Conrad Ecklie looked at the CSI. "Grissom left you in charge. Try to keep the solve rate of the lab up to par during his absence."

The director left Nick in the hallway, without any further conversation. The lead criminalist just shook his head in annoyance at the supposed support he was receiving from the half-politician.

"If this is what upper management is all about, I'm not sure if I ever want to get promoted," he mumbled under his breath.

Nick headed for his temporary office when he saw Greg Sanders running down the hallway in his direction. He quickly side-stepped before the rookie CSI could run him over in his excitement.

Greg was breathing hard, his hands clutched at a set of folders. His eyes were beaming and Nick couldn't wait for the man to speak.

"You got something important, G?" he asked, trying to keep his irritation at bay. He just didn't have any patience right now.

Greg was nearly bouncing up and down. "I think I found what you've been looking for."

Nick didn't suppress his annoyance. "Spit it out, man."

Greg's enthusiasm sagged a little, but it didn't keep him from delivering his hot news. "I kept digging and digging like you asked me to."

Nick nodded along, trying to keep the other man talking, and hopefully get to a point.

Greg sensed this and skipped ahead to his news. "I found some old articles from the Arizona Tribune. Apparently there was a scandal involving one of the pastors at his church. Parents of three boys filed charges of sexual molestation by members of the congregation."

Nick looked at the copy of the newspaper that Greg was handing to him. He scanned the item as the other CSI continued to explain some of his other findings. "The charges went unanswered as the church denied the claims. There was a big to do about the grand opening of one of its newest churches, a very large one. In fact Matt Todd was one of the architects in charge. It was one of his first major projects as a partner to a firm."

Nick was busy flipping through some more articles. "It says the case was dismissed after the charges were dropped by the parents. The reporter felt that the families were paid off to keep the church's reputation in tact."

The lead criminalist looked over at the younger man, who was desperately awaiting his reaction. "Good job, Greg."

The rookie eyes lit up, but there was something more to his expression. "There's more."

Nick looked at him expectantly. His cell phone buzzed, but he ignored it.

"One of the articles quotes the lead detective in saying that two of the children claimed that they were molested by more than one member of the church and that there were indications that they included someone from outside the actual clergy."

Nick's eyes grew dark with realization. "Matt Todd."

Greg let his voice quiet down. He was excited about providing a new lead, but also kept in mind the ramifications of the information and the subject matter. "I checked up on some things. Matt Todd did live in Tuscan and attended Mass on a regular basis there. One of the news investigators suspected that Mr. Todd used his money and influence to cover up his involvement. He protected the church and then moved away when the issue became too hot. It was still the early 80's, so things were easier to cover up back then."

"So, he was a suspect in the case." Nick said out loud, his mind going a mile a minute.

Greg stepped closer to him, whispering unnecessarily. "He was never charged. However, I was able to track down one of the police reports that had in the notes that he was under investigation. I didn't get that report till just a few minutes ago and put everything together."

Nick began to walk away and Greg was forced to keep up with him again. There was a fury in his stride and the rookie's eagerness began to wear away. Nick looked down at his phone again, and flipped it open to see he had missed Jim Brass's last call. He was about to dial the Captain's number when heard his name being summoned.

"Hey Nick!" Warrick Brown shouted and chased after the criminalist from another hallway.

The African-American caught up to his partner as Nick stopped to see what was so urgent. Warrick looked worked up and his face clouded over with dread. Nick felt his stomach tighten up for some unknown reason.

Warrick's grim expression darkened. "Brass has been trying to get a hold of ya."

Nick looked down at his phone, then back up. "I just saw that he called. What's going on?"

Both Nick and Greg looked at the lanky man with trepidation. The other criminalist was tense.

"Jason Todd went missing from his house a few hours ago."

Tbc…

Author's notes etc. at my bio page.