Horatio walked over to his CSIs less than half an hour later. People were still milling around outside, but inside, all that were left were a few members of staff… and four dead bodies.

Horatio looked over at his crew, then at the club, and then at the bodies, before looking straight back at them, 'you guys just don't have any luck when it comes to going out, do you.'

Cheryl finally managed to get back to the others. 'Remind me never to come out with you guys again.' She told them, having heard what Horatio had just said. 'Paramedics have just taken away four people, two shot and two trampled, all in critical conditions. The police are taking the statements outside.'

'Speed, get to the hospital, we need the evidence off them. You're all working now. I need the best on this.' Horatio told them. Speed nodded and left the building, his car keys swinging in his hand. 'How much have you had to drink?'

'Enough to be able to work,' said Eric. Calleigh nodded in agreement.

'Two mouthfuls,' said Cheryl. She was looking down at one of the bodies lying off in the corner of the room. 'Guys, I think we have a separate case here.'

'What makes you say that?' Asked Eric, looking at Cheryl.

'She's been strangled,' she told them, pointing at the woman on the floor, 'there are handprints on her neck.'

'And that means she's been dead longer than the shooting.' Commented Horatio.

'Well how come nobody noticed?' Asked Calleigh.

'That is what we're going to answer.' Replied Horatio. 'Cheryl, you noticed her, you follow with that. Eric, Calleigh, we're going for the shooter.'

'I have my kit in my car, with plenty of spares, guys,' said Cheryl, as she headed for the door. The others followed her to her Hummer. She opened the back door and pulled out a spare overall, before starting to pull it on.

'Wow, Cheryl. You have enough to kit out the entire shift in here.' Exclaimed Eric, as he pulled out some gloves and a camera.

'There's not that much.' She protested.

'You have three cameras in here!'

She sighed, 'I didn't want to be in a situation like this, without being prepared. Besides, when I was warned about a certain someone "borrowing" things from my kit, I didn't want to get caught short. And trust me, that guy has borrowed enough things off me in the past couple of weeks, I wasn't going to take the risk.'

Eric looked at her, 'you mean Speed?'

'Yeah.'

'But he's not been at work.' Said Calleigh.

As they had all pulled out what they needed, Cheryl shut the door and started walking to back to the club. 'The guy keeps raiding my fridge, and he never puts the hairdryer away.'

Calleigh and Eric looked at each other, neither of them following her.

Cheryl stopped and turned around. She burst out laughing at the expression on their faces. 'Come on, we have a crime scene to process.' She told them, instead of telling them she'd been joking. Speed had never been to hers. She been to his a few times after he'd gotten out of hospital, but normally, they'd meet up at the beach. And there was definitely nothing going on between them. She wasn't sure why she'd said it, but it was worth it for the expressions on their faces.

When she got back in the club, she was met by Alexx who was processing the woman, softly talking to her as if she were still alive. That's what Cheryl liked most about Alexx, but what most people found eerie. She spoke to them as if she were helping them on. 'Hey sweetie,' she greeted Cheryl as she knelt down beside her, 'you look pretty. Shame you had to look so pretty for this.'

'Hey Alexx, what can you tell me about the vic?' She smiled sadly at her.

'No ID on her. She doesn't have a purse, but looking at the face, she's younger than you.' She reached down and opened her mouth, 'she doesn't have all her wisdom teeth yet.' She shut her mouth and stroked the girl's face, 'poor baby, you weren't old enough to be here, were you.'

Cheryl sighed. She hated cases involving minors. 'Anything else, Alexx?'

'She has fresh abrasions on the palms of her hands, defensive wounds,' she said, holding out the girl's palms, 'but she also has abrasions on the back of her hands. You fought back, didn't you baby.' She said, addressing the body, rather than Cheryl. Cheryl reached into her kit and began scraping underneath the nails.

Alexx moved onto her eyes, shining a torch into them, 'petechial haemorrhaging. Preliminarily, I'd say she died from asphyxiation, but I'll know more when we get back to the morgue. And she didn't die here. She was moved.'

Cheryl sealed an evidence bag with a hair in it. 'Thanks Alexx. I'll see you later.' She got up, picked up her torch and camera, and started to look around for the scene of the murder. She was about to walk away, when Alexx called her back, 'hey Cheryl, I don't know if this will help, but there is a red sticky substance on her leg.'

Cheryl bent down and grabbed a swab from her kit and wiped the stain, before checking it for blood. It tested negative. She brought it to her nose and gave it a sniff, 'alcohol of some description?' She put the swab in a bag and put it with her other evidence. 'Thanks Alexx.'

She got back to her feet and shined her torch at the floor. There was a trail of liquid leading away from the body. Admittedly, with amount of alcohol in the building, the trail could have come from anywhere, but she decided to see if led to anything. It did, as it happened; to the corridor she had accidentally walked into earlier. She pointed her torch in the direction of the argument she had earlier.

On a ledge of an alcove was a glass half full of a red cocktail like the one she had been given earlier. She walked over to it and picked it up, shining her torch over it. It had both a lip print and several partial finger prints. Cheryl reached down to her kit and pulled out a container to pour the liquid into, before collecting the glass as evidence. As she put the evidence into her kit, she noticed something else.

She picked up her torch and shined it further down the corridor. The light bounced back off something big and sparkly. She walked over to it to find it was a purse, the ID inside belonging to a 'Martha Stewart.' Cheryl had to smile. She may have been English, but she had been in America long enough to know a fake ID when she saw one. But how whoever it was had gotten away with that was incredible.

She pulled out a wad of notes, somewhere in the region of thirty, mostly ones, and a credit card belonging to 'Melizza Grant.' Also, in the bag, was a tube of lip gloss, and a phone. She put them all into evidence, and wandered back to her kit. As she was putting her new evidence with the others she had collected, she stopped, and stared at the drink.

Taking a deep breath, she wandered back into the club, where they had been seated earlier and stared at the drink that had been bought for her earlier by Mark. She poured the drink into another evidence jar, and collected the glass into evidence. Then she set the right foot, of her still heeled feet on a chair and rolled up her trouser leg of the overall, staring at the red stain on her leg.'

'What have you got?' Asked Horatio, as he walked over and joined her.

'I'm not sure, yet. Hopefully nothing,' she told him, as she took a swab of her leg. 'Where's Calleigh?'

'Outside, taking fingerprints and pictures of everyone who was here.'

'Hey H, I've just looked at the security pictures of outside the club,' said Eric, as he came over and joined them, staring at Cheryl's leg. 'They've got nothing on the car the shooter got away in.'

'It was a '03 Mazda Miata MX5, with a 1.8L 16v engine.' Said Cheryl, rolling down her trouser leg.

'Colour?'

'I don't know. I didn't see it.'

'Then how do you know what it is?'

'My specialty is vehicles. Check the street cameras for one heading down Washington.'

Eric glanced at Horatio, before staring at Cheryl in disbelief. 'Yeah, whatever,' he muttered to himself, as he watched her wander off.

Cheryl found Calleigh outside surrounded by quite a lot of people, in various stages of drunkenness, all complaining about being held there. 'Hey, Calleigh, have you printed that Mark guy yet?'

'No, not yet. Why?'

'I'm not sure yet. It doesn't matter too much anyway. Well, I'm going back to the lab to process this. Good luck with this lot. Laters.'

Cheryl headed back to her Hummer and drove to the Crime Lab. Once there, she went straight to work processing the evidence, sticking her headphones firmly in her ears and turning up the volume. Tonight was a night for some RnB… Destiny's Child. She was busy singing out loud to their Survivor when someone tapped her on the shoulder. Standing behind her were Calleigh, Speed and Eric, all with slightly amused expressions on their faces.

Cheryl turned bright red and dropped Martha Stewarts ID on the table in front of her. 'Quit creeping up on me,' she exclaimed as she pulled the headphones out.

'Turn your music down.' Said Calleigh.

'Or stop singing so loud. The whole lab can hear you.' Said Eric.

Cheryl was about to say something back when one of the computers behind her started beeping. 'A hit already?' She headed over to it and sat down, as the others started processing whatever evidence they had.

The fingerprints of the dead girl had kicked out a match to a Melizza Grant… the owner of the purse. 'So, my dead body is Martha Stewart.'

'Martha Stewart?' Repeated Eric, looking over from the pile of videotapes he had begun pulling out of a box.

'Yeah, it would appear so. I found her purse, with a credit card belonging to Melizza Grant and an ID for Martha Stewart. The prints off the body match to Melizza Grant, who is in the system for underage drinking. She got busted by ABC a couple of months ago.' She told them.

'Interesting,' said Speed, 'because one of the victims in intensive care is Louise Ciccone.'

'Madonna?"

'So it would appear.'

'Well, I had a Shaquille O'Neal try to give me his prints earlier.' Chuckled Calleigh.

'Okay, so there is a splurge of really bad fake IDs going around. Jeeze, what is happening with the youth of today, that they can't even create a decent fake ID,' muttered Cheryl, reaching for the Martha Stewart card.

'The youth of today?' Repeated Speed, 'are you serious?'

'I was a thirteen years old, surrounded by eighteen years olds when I did my first degree. By the time I was doing my second degree over here, and the drinking age was twenty-one instead of eighteen, and I was still only sixteen, I needed a fake ID. I made it myself. I still have it somewhere. And I was clever enough to use my real details, other than my year of birth. And when you hang around with people older than yourself, you tend to act older than you are.'

The others looked at her. 'Okay then, break the law then.'

'Well stripping didn't pay enough.' Cheryl burst out laughing at their faces, 'come on guys, I am not serious!'

'I'm glad to hear it.' Cheryl whirled around to find Alexx, Horatio and Yelina standing behind her.

'Hey H, I think we have another problem,' said Eric, quickly changing the subject, 'we have a new breakout of fake IDs.'

'Celebrity IDs,' confirmed Yelina, pulling out a notebook. 'Several clubs have reported this, this week.'

'Where are we on IDing the girl?' Horatio asked Cheryl.

'Melizza Grant, age seventeen,' she told them, giving the address to Yelina, who walked off, to inform the parents.

'I sent some blood to Tox,' said Alexx, 'the results have just gotten in,' she told them, handing a folder over to Cheryl.

'Blood alcohol was 1.02. She was over the limit, no surprises there, I guess… traces of flunitrazepam… rohypnol.' Cheryl looked over at Alexx. She was nodding.

'SAE came back positive for rape. No trace of the rapist on her.' She told her, before leaving.

Cheryl sighed. This case just kept getting worse. 'I'll be in trace,' she muttered, before leaving the lab with a few items of evidence.

Speed found her staring at the printer, a while later. 'What? No music?' He asked her.

Cheryl ignored him, instead jumping up and grabbing the printout. She swore softly.

'And are you going to explain what's getting you all jumpy?'

Cheryl sighed, 'the sticky substance found on Melizza was sambuca, cranberry juice, lemon and lime… a "Cranberry Kisses" also with traces of the rohypnol.'

'And?'

'And, I found a drink, with Melizza's prints on the glass… the same drink… with rohypnol.'

'The rapist's prints?'

'Nothing… but,' she sighed again, 'on my way back from the bathroom, someone spilt a drink down me. I ran it because it looked like the other, and that had traces of rohypnol in it too. The drink that was bought for me had rohypnol in it as well.'

Speed swore loudly.

'It turns out, that you're not the only one who was pissed off at that result,' said Calleigh. She was standing in the doorway, peering in. 'Yall need to come take a look at this.'

The two followed Calleigh from trace, back to the other lab, to a computer. On it was a computer simulation of the directions and points of impacts of the shooting. 'They were all aimed at us?' Asked Speed.

'Or Mark.' Said Cheryl. She looked at Calleigh.

'No,' said Calleigh, before Cheryl could ask, 'his prints were never collected. Speed, we're going back to the crime scene.' Speed nodded and the two of them headed out.

Cheryl followed a little while later, heading for the AV lab. Sat in front of the monitors were Eric and Dan Cooper, the AV geek. Eric was sat staring at one of the screens with his mouth flapping about like a fish.

'03 Mazda Miata MX5?' She asked him.

'How did you know that?'

'I told you, vehicles are my thing. I like cars.'

'But you're a girl.'

'Eric, I am going to pretend you did not just say that.'

'Sorry, but you could tell what car it was from the engine.'

Cheryl shook her head, 'maybe one day, I will let you see what I did to my Hummer. Or maybe even the other cars.'

'You have more than one car?'

'Have you run the licence through the DMV yet?'

'No, on my way now.'

Cheryl turned to leave, but found Horatio stood in the doorway, 'I heard about the rohypnol.'

'I didn't drink any, if that's what you're asking.'

'Good. I just needed to check.' He told her, moving aside to let Eric and Dan leave.

'Don't worry; I would have removed myself from the case, if I thought I was going to compromise it.'

'I wasn't asking through concern of the case. I was asking through concern of my niece.' He told her, staring at her through his bright blue eyes, before turning and starting to leave.

'Horatio.'

He stopped and turned around.

'Thanks.'

He smiled at her, and then left.