Note: made a little faux pa in my writing...somehow made the jason parks character turn into a james park...i made the necessary adjustments! so here, again is chapter eight!

The interrogation room was only slightly warmer than a meat cooler in a grocery store. The dim light, the dark walls, the cold metal chairs made it one step up from a jail cell. It was meant to cause intimidation. It was meant to get suspects to open up. The presence of the burly detective didn't help matters any.

The squirrelly kid, Don Henson, fidgeted in his seat, his arms still handcuffed behind his back. O'Riley sat in a chair across the table from the kid as Nick Stokes entered the small room.

"Why'd you run?" the detective asked. Nick remained standing just behind the detective's right shoulder.

"Where's my lawyer?" the kid asked. "You're not getting shit from me," he said a scowl making itself known on the kid's face.

"Well, hey," Nick said, a glare in his own eye. "That's fine. You don't have to say a word. The DNA will do the talking for us. Open your mouth."

"Hell, no!"

"You better do what he says," the detective said sliding a piece of paper over the table. "We've got a warrant."

"My client has nothing to say to you," a tall, slender lady said breezing into the room, Don Henson's attorney. Nick was in the middle of procuring an oral swab from the suspect.

"That's okay," the detective shrugged leaning back in his seat. "We've got what we want. You two get comfortable, we'll be back," he said following Nick out of the room and into the busy hallway.

"I'll get this to the lab," Nick said referring to the cotton swab in his hand.

"We can hold him for running. He's ours for twenty-four hours."

"I won't need that long," Nick nodded turning to make his way toward the DNA lab. "I should know something in a few hours."

"Hey," Warrick said glancing up from his papers; he had a highlighter in hand.

"Anything from the rosters?" Nick asked entering the evidence room.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Dave Eubanks is the coach for the local skate chapter; both our guys belong to the team. Dave's son, Chris, is also on the team. He finished second overall yesterday."

"I just got a page from Grissom. He and Brass are with the Eubanks' now," Nick said already heading out the door to another interrogation. This time he remained in the observation room, hidden behind the two-way mirror. Warrick entered the interrogation room only long enough to leave the results from the tournament with Grissom, his notes clearly highlighted for the man to follow.

"You placed second overall at the tournament yesterday," Brass said with a small grin. "Congratulations." Was that sarcasm in his voice?

"It should have been first," the kid said under his breath wiping ink from his fingers. Grissom had just fingerprinted the kid and his father. An intern had rushed the prints to the lab for analysis.

"Shut up," the man told his son between clinched teeth.

"What was that?" Brass asked leaning an ear toward the boy.

"Look, is there some reason you drug us in here?" Dave Eubanks spoke up.

"Yeah, there is," Brass nodded raising his eyebrows. He derived a little too much pleasure from an uncomfortable suspect. "You're Suburban was found, abandoned I might add, out at Lake Mead. Care to explain?" It really wasn't a question.

"My car was stolen two days ago," the man shrugged.

"Did you happen to file a report?" Brass asked leaning over the table, clasping his hands together on the table top.

"I hadn't gotten around to it. I've been busy," the man said. He was getting nervous. "With the tournament and all…" he trailed off.

Nick had a slight glint in his eyes. Brass had a way with suspects, he thought as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"This guy's a punk, too," Warrick said shaking his head.

Archie, the audio visual tech, knocked lightly on the observation room door and let himself in.

"Hey, Nick. I've got that report you wanted," he said handing a file folder over to the CSI.

"Thanks man," Nick nodded as the tech made his way back to his lab. "Look at this," Nick smiled reading quickly over the report.

"What's that?" Warrick asked reading over Nick's shoulder.

"It looks like Chris Eubanks and Christian Shroll were good buddies. There's at least a dozen e-mails leading up to the day of our murder. They go back a good month. Wait a second…" he trailed off.

"What?"

"I'll be right back," Nick said quickly leaving the observation room. Something was off. He quickly made his way to the evidence room. Sara was there sorting through evidence from her current case.

"Hey," she smiled. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah," Nick nodded, a little preoccupied.

"Hot case?"

"You could say that," he nodded taking out a box of evidence he and Grissom had gathered from Christian Shroll's bedroom. He rummaged through the contents until he found what he was looking for. A small envelope containing a piece of paper, the letters and numbers hadn't made any sense, until now. "Sorry, can't talk," he said quickly returning the box to its place on the shelf and hurrying back to interrogation.

"Hey, Archie," Nick said into his cell phone. "I need you to trace that unknown e-mail account, from the Shroll kid's computer, for me. I need to know who sent that e-mail," he said entering the police department rejoining Warrick.

"What's that?" he asked noticing the new evidence envelope in Nick's hand.

"Check this out. There are a good dozen e-mails between the Shroll kid and Eubanks here."

"That makes sense," Warrick shrugged. "They're on the same team."

Nick nodded.

"There are two more e-mails from an unknown sender. I have Archie tracing them now, but get this; we found this piece of paper on Christian Shroll's computer desk."

"J 7, DH 9," Warrick read. "Yeah, so?"

"It didn't mean anything to me, either," Nick shrugged. "But check out this e-mail. The whole thing's been a set up."

"Whoa," Warrick said taking a closer look at the computer records. "Christian Shroll and Chris Eubanks arranged for Jason Parks to be in the park that night?"

Nick only nodded.

"We need to find out who sent that e-mail," he said as his cell phone rang. He answered it on the second ring.

"Nick Stokes...yeah…sweet. Thanks, Mia."

"What have you got?"

"Our fingerprint from the steering wheel is a match to Chris Eubanks," Nick smiled.

"Anything on the partial I lifted off the dash?"

"Yeah," Nick nodded. "Don Henson."

"So where exactly does Christian Shroll play into all of this?" Warrick asked his hands on his hips as he gazed into the interrogation room. It looked like the kid had clammed up.

"That may be our last piece of the puzzle," he shrugged as he peered into the other room. God, he hoped he was right.