Author's Note: I'm going away for the weekend, but I wanted to leave you with this little gift.

Chapter Seven

When a suicide has been discovered, everything becomes so still. There's no squawking of police radios, no flashing red and blue lights, no need for a large police presence as the murderer and the victim is the same person. Such a contrast as to when a homicide has been discovered.

After Linton's body had been found, Nick called the coroner while Warrick began to photograph the body.

"So Freddie was right about Linton. He couldn't stand living in the shadow of his cousin so he killed him." Warrick said between shots.

"Seems to be the case." Nick admitted.

"What is it?" Warrick asked. He could sense his partner was a bit melancholy.

Nick sighed. "I don't like this."

"What's to like? The guy killed his cousin and then offed himself. Any way you look at it, it's not a pretty picture." Warrick said, bringing the camera up to his face again. He zoomed in on the noose and snapped a photo.

Warrick turned to look at Nick, who had remained silent and staring at the floor. In an attempt to lighten his partner's mood, he said with a smile, "Oh I get it. You just don't like that I was right all along about our boy over here. Aren't you glad we didn't make a wager on this case?"

Nick pulled a face before exhaling.

"You know Nick, not everyone is a saint." Warrick told his friend quietly.

"Preaching to the choir, bro." Nick spread his hands with a smile. It faded slightly as he said, "I guess deep down I was kinda hoping this guy was different."

"Hey fellas." David greeted as he entered the room.

"Super Dave!" Nick said renewing his smile. "Wanna take a look at Mr. Elwell here?"

The coroner walked over to the body, which was still hanging from the rafters and peered up at it. "Hmm. Looks like a suicide. Death by asphyxiation I'd wager."

"Very astute." Warrick teased.

"That's why they pay me the big bucks." David returned with that small smile of his.

Both of the CSIs really liked David. The young coroner had a unique sense of humor that was hidden under his somewhat nerdy appearance. He had a very calming presence and no one could doubt that he was good at his job.

"Hey, I'm gonna step outside and check with Brass." Nick told his partner as he left the room.

When he arrived outside, the CSI found Brass talking to a very flustered Rebekah Prescott.

She rushed forward when she saw Nick. She immediately began to bombard him with questions. "He won't well me anything. What's going on in there? Is Linny alright?"

Nick swallowed. This was the part of his job that he hated most. "Miss Prescott, there's no easy way to tell you this, but Mr. Elwell's dead."

Rebekah's face blanched. "What? How?"

"He committed suicide." Nick told her quietly. He offered her a sympathetic smile.

"What? No! Why would he do that?" Rebekah was beside herself. Her green eyes were wide with disbelief.

Nick didn't answer her immediately. He was trying to think of the best way to answer her question. How could he just tell her that her friend had killed the man she loved? It turned out he didn't need to.

Rebekah put a hand over her mouth. "You think he committed suicide because he killed Jack."

"That's what it said in his note." Nick nodded glumly.

Rebekah's face hardened. "No. You're wrong. Linton would never, ever, hurt Jack."

"That's not what the evidence is telling us." Nick said quietly but firmly. He felt sorry for her. Things like this were so hard for the people left behind.

"Well then it's wrong! I know Linton! The man you're describing is not him! He was a good man with a kind heart. He may not have been a brave man, but he would never do such a cowardly thing like committing a murder. Trust me. I knew him. You didn't. Someone set him up." Rebekah's eyes blazed with an intensity that Nick hadn't known she was capable of possessing.

Nick hesitated. He understood her frustration. "Miss Prescott..."

"Tell me, if Linny was planning to kill himself, why would he call me and beg me to come over here? He said that he needed to talk - that it was urgent." The red-head gave Nick a defiant look, daring him to offer an explanation contrary to the one she was holding to.

"It's possible that he wanted you to be the one to find his body, trusting that you would take care of the situation." Nick said.

At this, she hung her head, shaking it slowly. When she raised her head, Rebekah's anger had faded and had been replaced by such an intense grief that it nearly broke Nick's heart. "Mr. Stokes, I just lost two of my closest friends. Please tell me that you'll examine every piece of evidence. I know there's more going on here. I know this man. Promise me that you won't write his death off without a thorough investigation."

Her plea tugged at his heart and he nodded solemnly. "We will examine every piece of evidence. That's our job, but I can't promise you the answer you want to hear."

Though far from being reassured, Rebekah accepted his answer. "Thank you. I know you'll do your best."

"Tell me why we're doing this again?" Warrick asked, giving Nick a look. He stood over the body of Linton Elwell with a swab in his hand.

Doc Robbins had examined the body, telling them that the cause of death had been asphyxiation. The only ligature mark had been the one created by the rope so that ruled out the possibility that Linton had been strangled by another means and then his body posed to look like a suicide. Warrick wanted to be done with it and call the case closed, but Nick had not been willing to do so just yet.

"I made a promise to a lady." Nick sighed. He grabbed one of Linton's hands and began to scrape under his nails. Flecks of skin began to come out from under them. More than what was usual.

Nick looked up at Warrick. "I got skin. Lots of it."

Warrick leaned down to examine what Nick had collected.

"Could indicate a possible sign of struggle." he admitted. "But there are no other wounds on his body - defensive or offensive."

"Maybe someone surprised him, threw the rope around his neck, and strangled him. He could have reached back and scratched the hands of the person killing him in an effort to try and free himself. We should swab the rope for epithelials." Nick said.

"We got a suicide note, Nick. How do you explain that? You think the killer told Linton Elwell to write his own suicide note and he did it without question? Come on, man! No one's that dumb." Warrick's voice had a touch of exasperation in it.

Nick's eyes hardened in determination. "That's why I think we should take the note to QD for a handwriting comparison analysis."

Warrick sighed in defeat. If Nick wanted to go the distance, he'd be right there alongside him. "Okay. Let's see what Ronnie can tell us."

The two men opted to divide and conquer. Warrick took the rope and swabbed it, recovering some epithelials, which he gave to Greg so he could compare them with the samples collected from under Linton's nails. He also dusted the suicide note while Nick went back to Linton's home to collect a sample of his handwriting for comparison. Warrick pulled a few partials from the note and gave them to Jacqui.

Upon returning to the lab, Nick took the note and the sample he had collected to the Questionable Documents lab.

"Hey Ronnie, I need you to do a comparison for me. I need to know if this suicide note was actually written by our victim." Nick told the tech as he handed him the documents.

"Sounds interesting. Let me guess. Mysterious circumstances surrounding your apparent suicide, huh?" Ronnie asked with interest.

Nick nodded. "Something like that."

Ronnie set both documents in front of him and studied them carefully. He mumbled something under his breath and whipped out a magnifying glass.

Nick stood silently with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for Ronnie's final verdict. While he was waiting, Warrick sidled up next to him. Nick could tell by the look on his face that Warrick had big news.

"What'cha got?" he asked.

"Greg confirmed that the skin samples found under Linton's finger nails are a match to the epithelials that I recovered from the rope. The DNA belongs to a male." Warrick said with half smile.

"Hmm. That narrows down our list of suspects considerably." Nick said, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Warrick allowed his smile to get wider. "It gets even better. Jacqui matched one of the partials I lifted from the suicide note to Freddie McFarlane. Linton Elwell did not commit suicide. He was murdered by Freddie and the whole thing was staged. Freddie must have forged the note. I can hardly believe it, but Rebekah was right."

"Not so fast, guys." Ronnie broke in, looking up from his work. "This note is not a forgery."

Both CSIs whipped their heads around to stare at Ronnie in amazement.

"What? Are you sure?" Nick asked incredulously.

"Most definitely. Take a look at this." Ronnie gestured for the men to come closer.

"Look at the way the defining characteristics of the letters such as the loops and the way the t's are crossed. They're the same on both documents. The writing on the suicide note is sloppier but emotional distress can wreak havoc on a person's penmanship. Sorry guys, but your victim wrote this note." Ronnie said simply.

Disenchanted, Nick and Warrick left the QD lab. They walked the length of the hallway in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts.

"This case is giving me headache. Nothing makes sense. You got any ideas?" Nick asked as he rubbed his forehead.

"Yeah, try this on for size. Based on what we've uncovered so far, I think Linton Elwell killed his cousin. We knew from our conversation with Freddie that he was suspicious of Linton. I think he either pieced together what happened or managed to get Linton to confess what he did and then Freddie killed him. He was motivated by revenge. You heard how close he and Jack were." Warrick theorized.

Nick digested this slowly. It seemed a plausible explanation.

"Maybe Linton wanted to be found out, but couldn't quite bring himself to the point where he was willing to turn himself in. Perhaps that's why he left the gun on my doorstep. The man was an emotional wreck, plagued by his guilt." Nick said, building on Warrick's theory.

He continued. "That could explain why he wrote the note. He could have been contemplating suicide or fleeing the city or just leaving it somewhere for someone to find. Perhaps Freddie found it and decided to put it to good use. You know, the note never actually referenced Linton's intent to kill himself."

"That's true. Perhaps Freddie can fill in the blanks." Warrick said.

Warrick had called the Tropicana and been informed that Freddie had already left for the day, but that he almost always went to the same bar before going home. After hearing this, the two CSIs got into their vehicle and took off for Joe's Bar.

Warrick had toyed briefly with the idea of calling Brass so that he could meet them at the bar, but after one look at his partner, he decided not to. Nick had channeled all of the frustration this case had created for him into the task of apprehending Freddie and Warrick knew that the mere mention of calling for backup would just annoy him. Besides, he figured that he and Nick were more than a match for Freddie, who by now had probably knocked back a couple of drinks, if he tried to do something rash.

"How do you wanna play this?" Warrick asked, shifting his eyes to his partner, who was drumming his fingers anxiously on the armrest. He could sense that Nick was ready for action and he could feel the same excitement building up inside of himself, which made it even more critical that they were on the same page before talking to Freddie.

"Let's ease into it. Pretend like we're just there to let him know about Linton's confession and then let him have it. Just follow my lead." Nick turned to look at Warrick, allowing the other man to glimpse the fire in his eyes.
There was something infuriating about people who took the law into their own hands. On one level, Nick could understand what Freddie did. He had wanted to avenge his friend - the man who had been like a brother to him. But nothing gave a person the license to kill. It was not Freddie's right to decide whether Linton should live or die. It was not his right to deal out death and judgement. Society could not allow men to take matters like this into their own hands. That would just lead to chaos.

Pressing his lips into a thin line of determination, Nick exited the vehicle with Warrick in tow. They made their way towards the bar in silence. Nick pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The bar was relatively empty with only a few patrons scattered around the room. Nick's eyes quickly spotted Freddie, who was drinking alone at the counter. The CSIs sidled up next to him and sat down on either side of Freddie, who made no notice of the two men but continued to drink steadily from his glass. The bartender seemed to get the vibe that they were not here to drink and so did not approach them. Instead, he moved towards the end of the counter and began to start wiping down some glasses, stealing a look at the three men every so often.

"I thought you might like to know that we know who killed Jack. Linton Elwell confessed to his murder." Nick said, turning his head slightly to the left to look at Freddie. He tried to keep his tone even which was difficult considering the emotions he was feeling.

Freddie didn't bother to turn his head. "Must have been easy to get a confession out of him. Linny was never able to withstand a lot of pressure."

Nick hardened his gaze. "Actually, he wrote it in a suicide note. We were going to go speak to him and we found him hanging from a beam in his home."

Freddie gave a small chuckle. "Why does that not surprise me? Sounds like something he'd do."

"In his note, he apologized for killing Jack and for being weak." Nick's voice began to rise slightly but not to the level that would warrant stares from the other bar patrons.

"Definitely sounds like Linny. He was always sorry for something." Freddie took another drink from his glass and continued to stare straight ahead. On his left, Warrick watched the man in amazement. Sometimes, he didn't understand how people could be so cold-hearted.

"I bet you'll be more sorry when you find out that you left your DNA all over the rope that killed Linton and your skin under his fingernails. Not to mention your prints on the suicide note." Nick's voice dropped to a deadly level.

Freddie turned his head slowly and let his eyes connect with Nick's steely gaze. The truth of Nick's words sunk in immediately.

Without warning, Freddie kicked Nick's stool out from under him while simultaneously twisting his body around to grab Warrick's gun. With his left hand, he grabbed Warrick around the neck and used his combined weight and strength to push both of them away from the counter.

By the time Nick had gotten to his feet and drawn his own gun, Freddie was using Warrick's body as a shield and had the gun pointing at Warrick's temple. Freddie clearly had not lost any of his athletic abilities over the years nor had his senses been dulled by the alcohol he had been consuming. In fact, his eyes were alert and a fierce determination was etched on his face.

Tightening his grip on Warrick's neck, Freddie snarled, "Lower your gun or your buddy's gonna die."