Chapter 9
Sam Rose was a handsome man in his mid thirties. He and Alex had met a few years ago through a mutual friend at the Bureau who tried to set them up. There were no sparks for either of them, but they had remained good friends ever since, especially since before she'd moved to Vegas, Alex was doing Sam's taxes.
"So, be honest with me, how does the case look?" Alex asked Sam, even though she'd heard it before.
Sam rolled his eyes, repeating himself for the umpteenth time. "It doesn't look very good. They have your DNA, the Valium, your scalpel—"
Alex interrupted him, "But Valium is so common. Plus they didn't find any blood on the scalpel and it's not like it's a rare instrument."
"I know Alex," he replied. "But you have one and you know how to clean it to remove traces of blood. They have footprints, the witness, and let's not forget the storage unit."
Alex's bit her bottom lip, trying to find something in the evidence that didn't add up. "The footprints didn't match exactly! And what about the fact that I was in Virginia at the time of death for Heather James?"
Sam flipped through the file folder until he found what he was looking for. "They have the flight manifestos that prove you flew there and flew back, but no one saw you while you were in Virginia after you checked into your hotel. You didn't contact anyone." He poked her in the arm, jokingly hinting that she hadn't even called him.
"I know," she replied. "I had…stuff to do. I didn't want to be distracted. But, if I flew back I'd be on other flight manifestos. I'd have to show ID. Did they check for them?"
He flipped through some more papers. "Yeah, and your name didn't appear on any of them, but they are checking for possible aliases. But it's not like you have any fake IDs."
A look of guilt crossed over Alex's face. "Well…" she replied.
"What?" Sam asked, concerned.
She sighed and then hesitantly told him, "I do have a fake ID. Government issued, actually, from when I was undercover."
"Oh yeah, I remember that assignment," Sam interjected. "I didn't get to talk to you for like six months. What's the name? Would anyone recognize it?"
She dodged the first question. "I didn't use it! It doesn't matter if anyone does recognize it."
Sam believed Alex. She'd never lied to him. "Alright," he replied, assuring her of his belief. "Still, if it comes up, you may need to produce it."
"It's right he—" she stopped as she opened the box where she kept it. She started to dig through the box.
"Alex?" Sam asked.
"It's gone!"
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"It's right here," Sara said, pointing to a name on the page.
"Where?" Warrick replied, taking the paper from her.
"Lexa Corbett, Flight 4513," Sara replied, pointing out the line.
"How do you know that's her?" Warrick was curious and doubtful.
"I just…know," she told him, not wanting to relay the story of her trip to Mineral. "You know, if you can't separate your personal feelings from this case, you should asked to be reassigned."
Warrick was indignant at her implication. "I've only met her once. I think it's you who are letting feelings cloud judgment in this case."
Now Sara was cross. "What's that supposed to mean?" she grabbed the flight manifesto back from Warrick.
"It's no secret you don't like her. Why do you think Ecklie left you on this case?" he replied.
"I'd like to think it's because I'm a good CSI," she responded curtly.
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Alex was pacing around her apartment. She hadn't been able to settle herself since Sam left. Her ID from her undercover assignment was missing and it bothered her. She thought before maybe everything was a coincidence, but now she was sure she was being set up.
She knew she couldn't just sit around her apartment and remembered there was a band playing she had wanted to see. She decided she would go. Maybe the loud music would drown out her worry.
The club was packed, which was exactly what Alex was looking for. She tried to blend into the crowd, wearing jeans, a black baby tee, her Vans, and her hair in two pigtail braids. The angry grinding of the guitars matched her emotions. And when a mosh pit was started towards the front of the stage, Alex couldn't wait to join in.
After one particularly hard hit, Alex lost her balance and started to fall. Right before she hit the floor someone caught her. She turned to say thank you and paused when she saw whom it was.
Her eyes met Greg's and they both just stood there for a moment. Their stare was broken by the bodies slamming in to each of them. And that's when they started aiming for each other.
In some weird form of an apology, Alex and Greg would purposely run into each other. Trying each time to out do the other one. Until Alex once again lost her balance and fell into Greg, landing chest to chest.
She looked up into his eyes and he into hers. Then he smiled. She hadn't seen him smile in days. They both let out a laugh.
Greg grabbed her hand after she was steady and led her to the rear of the club. It was quieter there and he wanted to talk to her. A lot of his anger had been relieved by their moshing.
As they sat down next to each other, Alex leaned over and spoke in Greg's ear. "I'm sorry I've been a jerk. I should have told you the whole truth from the beginning."
He held her hand in his. "I over reacted," he apologized. "So how've you been?"
She looked into his eyes, wanting to say so much. And she wasn't sure if it was the music, the dancing or the alcohol, but what she wanted right now had nothing to do with words. She grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer and kissed him forcefully.
Greg was stunned, but excited, by the roughness in her usually soft kiss. This was a side of her he'd never seen. But he understood exactly what she was trying to tell him.
After their lips separated, he put his mouth next to her ear and whispered, "My place?"
She nodded and they left, walking so close you'd almost think they were one person.
Greg fumbled for his keys while outside his apartment. He was alternating between kissing Alex and trying to find the right key. He finally found it and opened the door. They nearly toppled each other getting inside. Alex kicked the door shut after they were both inside.
They continued to kiss, both growing more passionate with each exchange. Greg pulled her as close as he could; he had missed feeling her next to him in the last few days.
Greg had just started to untuck her shirt, when her phone rang. He had planned on ignoring it; his only focus was her. She, however, couldn't ignore it and reached for it in her back pocket.
"Don't," he said, putting his hand over hers.
"I have to. It might be Sam," she replied, pulling it out.
"Sam?" he questioned, giving her a playfully suspicious look.
"My lawyer," she laughed and then looked at the called ID. It wasn't Sam.
She hit a button to ignore the call, another to shut it off and slid it back in her pocket. Then she started to kiss him.
Greg stopped her. "Who was it?"
She smiled. She almost said Nick, but thought better of it. "Nnnnnnno one," she replied.
Greg let go of her. "It was Nick, wasn't it?" All his frustrations of the last couple days were coming back to him.
"It was no one," she assured him, putting her arms around his waist.
He removed her arms. He knew who it was; he just wanted her to tell him. "Damn it, Alex! Can't you just be straight with me?"
"Fine," she said in a calm voice, not wanting to add any extra emotion to the conversation. "It was Nick."
Greg rolled his eyes. "I can't believe this!"
"What?" she asked, slowing stroking his arm.
"Alex, he's in love with you. Surely you have to know this!" Greg was not calming down.
"No he's not," she refuted, but didn't even convince herself it was the truth.
He crossed his arms and cut through her with his stare.
She held up her hands in defeat. "Ok, yes, I know how he feels about me."
"When?" was all he said, but she knew what he was asking.
"When he picked me up from the airport," she reluctantly answered. Then, deciding she better tell him the whole truth added, "I accidentally kissed him and his feelings became obvious."
"Accidentally kissed him?" Greg was incredulous.
"Greg," she said softly, trying to remain calm. "I went to give him a peck on the cheek but he turned his head and it became an actual kiss."
Greg gave her a disbelieving look. "Yeah, I'm sure that's they way it happened."
"Come on," Alex responded. "I'm telling you the truth. Please, believe me."
"Alex, I just don't know what to think anymore," he told her, running a hand through his hair.
"You're not the only one," she blurted out, not realizing the implications of her words until after she spoke them.
The anger flared in Greg's eyes. "Get out," he ordered.
"Greg," she tried to clarify. "I didn't mean—"
"I know what you meant," he informed her. "Now get out."
She started to say something else, but knew Greg wasn't listening to her. She walked over to the door and reached for the doorknob. Just as she was about to turn the knob, he touched her shoulder. She hoped he'd reconsidered in the few brief moments that had passed.
"Don't forget this," he said, handing her the key to her apartment.
She looked down at it, then back up at him. "Greg," her lip started to tremble as she tried to hand it back to him.
"Out," he demanded and she obeyed.
The tears were streaming down her cheeks as she walked to her car. After she unlocked it, she dropped into the driver's seat and let loose her tears. After a couple minutes, she calmed herself down enough for her to drive. She started the car and left.
As she drove home, she fumbled with her cell phone. She really shouldn't have shut it off. If Sam needed her and didn't get a hold of her, she'd be in trouble.
As the phone came to life, it beeped, indicating that there was a message. Nick must have left it, she thought, entering in the pass code for her voicemail. She was right.
"Hey Alex, it's Nick. On a break, just wanted to make sure you're ok. I'll talk to you later," Nick's message said.
She erased the message and then, in a fit of anger, threw the phone down unto the passenger side floorboard. She was mad at Nick, Greg, herself. So mad, in fact, that she didn't notice the car following her. So blinded by her sadness, she didn't notice the woman getting out of her car in the parking lot. So oblivious to anything but her own pain, she didn't even see the woman following her to her front door.