Laws of Motion – Book 1
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT
Chapter 2
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Catherine's House
10:07 p.m.
As he knocked on Lindsay's bedroom door, Warrick prepared for an icy reception. "I know you don't want to talk but at least it's me knocking, and not your mom."
"You got that right…come in." She didn't budge from her position lying on the bed staring at the ceiling.
He stepped inside the room, leaving the door ajar. "Your mom and I have been discussing you for two hours."
"That has to be a record for my mother," she snipped. "I'm sure it was your idea."
"Linds…" Warrick grabbed her desk chair and rolled it over toward the bed. Taking a seat he sighed, "Drop the 'tude or I'll send in your mom."
She sat up immediately and smiled. "What's up?"
"I know things around here were a little crazy before your mom and I got together and I know you saw stuff you weren't supposed to see but, Linds…you know your mom did a lot of things she doesn't ever want you to do." Leaning forward he lowered his voice to a sympathetic tone. "That doesn't make her a hypocrite, it makes her knowledgeable. She knows the consequences and she doesn't want you to suffer them like she did. She loves you, that's why she goes off when you do crazy things. Are you hearing me?"
"Yeah."
"You're lucky Ryan is a nice boy. You're playing with fire jumpin' guys." Sitting back he crossed his arms. "What if you egged him on and he pushed you further than you were willing to go?"
"I would have kicked him in the nuts."
"You think it's that simple, huh?" He shook his head. "It's not. There are guys who can overpower me so I know there are guys who can overpower you. Ryan could have if he really wanted to. And if a guy happens to have a weapon on him…forget it. Your mom wants to bring home casefiles and show you what a girl who provoked the wrong guy looks like in the morgue. I told her I think you're smart enough to hear what I'm sayin' without the visuals."
Lindsay moved her eyes to the floor.
"Now I've got some news…you're gonna hate it but, you your mom and me both agree on this."
She returned his gaze. "How long am I grounded for?"
"Two weeks, but that's not what I'm talking about." After taking a deep breath he dropped the bomb. "Your mother had filled out an application for a private school at the start of the summer. You got in. She wasn't going to send you but after today…we both think it will be good for you to be in a smaller environment and around some new friends."
"No way!" She never saw it coming and now that it had she was devastated. "You can't!"
"It's a done deal." He stood, figuring she'd need some time alone to cope. "Your mom e-mailed the Principal of Butterfield Academy to confirm you'll be taking the spot. It's an exclusive school with great academic programs…and a very structured, take no-BS environment."
"Anything but this!" she pleaded. "I don't know anyone there!"
"You'll know one person." At the door he smiled. "Apparently Sean Blake got a full scholarship."
"Ugh! That proves it's a school for geeks!" Crashing against the bed Lindsay shut her eyes. "Wake me up from this nightmare!"
Crime Lab
10:21 p.m.
Gil impatiently paced the lobby waiting for Brass to arrive. With his security clearance suspended in the computer system until six the next morning, he couldn't get in so Sara had gone on without him.
"I got here as fast as I could," Jim announced as he rushed over to the security desk. "Dr. Grissom will be accompanying me," he informed the access officer while Gil signed the visitor log and clipped on a guest badge. It was a legal way around the suspension penalty. Slapping his buddy on the back Jim smiled, "Being the Assistant Director has its privileges and I'm always glad to abuse my power for a friend in need."
"I appreciate you putting your neck on the line." Gil followed him through the doors as they buzzed open.
"Do you think it's Rodgers?"
"The wording leads me to believe that, yes. Who else would want to upset her and know details about her birthday last year…particularly that I ignored it?" He cringed at the memory and what happened as a result of his dysfunction with Sara. "Without the malicious intent, my first inclination would be to think it's a joke from Catherine, but clearly it was written to unnerve Sara…which it did."
Heading straight for Trace, they hurried down the hall.
Nick and Carrie's Apartment
10:43 p.m.
Eager to return to Jillian's side, Carrie hustled into the living room with two Tylenol PM and a full glass of water. "Here you go. These will help with the headache and let you get some rest."
For the last two hours Carrie had comforted and counseled her future mother-in-law, tenderly filling in the holes made by Nick's bombshell. She shared everything Nick had relayed to date…Shelly's skilled manipulation and seduction, how his guilt and fear over breaking so many house rules played right into her hands, and why he was too ashamed to tell that night as well as all these years. She took it as well as could be expected.
However, watching a woman as confident and loving as Jillian being ripped apart by the devastating truth, was taking its toll on Carrie.
After finally outing her abuser when she was nine, Carrie had been sheltered from the trauma that ensued. When she told her dark secret to her fifteen year old brother Paul on the way to swim practice one afternoon, he immediately called the police. Shortly thereafter, a social worker had Carrie in protective custody while her parents were informed of the news. At nine she wasn't at ground zero but today she was and watching Jillian she realized the hell her mother must have gone through.
"Thank you," Jillian whispered as she set the half-empty glass of water on the coffee table. "For the water, the pills, and most of all for being so strong for Nicky and me. As painful as this is, I'm glad you got it out of him after all these years. I know this can't be easy for you because of your background and…" Her emotions getting the best of her again she just nodded. Among other things, her son's deep and immediate bond with Carrie now made perfect sense. He could trust Carrie not to hurt him because she had suffered similarly but, unlike him, she had confronted it long ago. "How long have you been helping him deal with this?" she asked in a weak voice.
"Since our first date," She answered warmly while settling back on the couch. "He asked why I chose to work in the Sex Crimes division of the DA's office in Seattle. I told him my story." He was stunned that I flung it right out there." Smiling she said, "Those were his exact words…I can't believe you just flung that out there. I told him I had nothing to be ashamed about because I was the victim. A few minutes later, he shyly admitted he liked doing his job for the same reason…then he told me he didn't want to talk about it." Her smile brightened. "He says that's the moment he fell in love me…when I didn't pressure him but let him know I'd listen if he ever wanted to talk. It's been coming out in dribs and drabs ever since but it wasn't until last week that the flood gates opened and he remembered everything in vivid detail."
Trying to find a happier port in the emotional storm Jillian inquired, "So…he fell in love with you on your first date. When did you fall in love with him?"
Chuckling sweetly she replied, "The next day…"
After flashing the LVPD identification badge around his neck to McCarran Airport security and explaining he was escorting a witness, Nick was able to accompany Carrie to her gate. Until then, they had been passing the time hanging out in the lounge, getting to know each other.
"I'm starting to think you're going to stow away in the plane's luggage compartment," she teased as Nick picked up her bag from the security table.
After slinging her bag over his shoulder he took her hand. "I'm a gentleman from Texas. I have to walk a lady to her door."
Squeezing his hand Carrie sweetly replied, "This girl from Seattle doesn't have a problem with that." Their second date, an early dinner at a casual Italian restaurant and a ride to the airport, had been even more fun than their first venture out together the previous night.
"Since I can't walk you to your real door, will you promise to call me when you get home?"
"Yes, I have your cell number programmed into my phone." She leaned against a pillar in the far corner of the waiting area. "I guess that makes us equally optimistic that this isn't goodbye."
Glancing around at the people bustling about Nick asked, "Would it be really awkward for you if we shared our first real kiss in this crowd?"
"Yes, it would be really awkward!" she giggled as her eyes drifted to his lips. A second later the thump of her heart was as loud as the 737 revving its engine just outside the window and she realized that if she didn't do it now, she wouldn't get to taste those delicious lips for twenty-one long, lonely days. "Well…maybe not that awkward."
Dropping her bag, Nick wrapped his arms around Carrie's waist, pulling her close. Then, with his eyes locked on hers he soulfully whispered, "I'm head over heels, Darlin' and these are going to be the three longest weeks of my life."
"Oh…" before their lips met she melted, and when they did, the velvet kiss released a hundred butterflies in her stomach.
This is the final boarding call for Flight 17 to Seattle
"What? How can that be?" Carrie lamented when they came up for air after their umpteenth kiss. "I had so much time."
"Time flies when you're having fun." He stole one last kiss then picked up her bag. "Remember…call me when you get home." When she didn't answer or move he nudged her. "Sweetheart…you have to go."
"Huh?" She was busy contemplating if she should take a later flight even if it would only prolong her wrapping things up in Washington so she could move to Vegas.
Nick took her hand and led her to the door. "Call me when you land in Seattle."
"I will." Reluctantly, she took the bag from his hand.
"Take this too." After pulling it from his pocket, he extended a pack of bubble gum. "For your ears…in case they pop when you fly."
"They usually do," she dreamily replied.
The flight attendant, Brad, coughed loudly. "Boarding pass?"
"Oh!" Snapping out of her romantic haze, Carrie reached into her purse. "Sorry." After handing it over she halfheartedly waved goodbye and took a few steps back. "I'll call you."
Nick held up his cell. "I'll be waiting." Right before she was about to disappear from view he yelled, "Hey, Carrie!" When she turned he flashed a radiant smile. "Would it be too awkward for you in front of this really annoyed flight attendant who clearly thinks I'm the biggest sap walking the planet if I told you that even though it's only been twenty-four hours, I've fallen madly in love with you and that it's a big deal for me because I've never felt that way or said that to or about anyone in my life?"
"Yes, it would be very awkward!" She covered her mouth so he wouldn't see her outrageous smile.
Laughing he said, "Okay then…I'll keep it to myself."
Carrie sighed with pleasure as she continued recalling the sweet memory. "So, my flight ends up being delayed when it stops in Reno. After a while I go to the bathroom, with plans to call Nick afterwards but…I drop my cell phone with his phone number programmed into it right down the toilet as it's flushing."
Even though an hour ago she thought she'd never smile again, one appeared on Jillian's face. "So you couldn't call."
"By the time I got home, four hours later than planned, Nick had left four messages on my voicemail…one every hour. He had called and found out my flight was delayed on a mechanical and was worried." Her smile was stretched to its maximum. "And while I was giddily listening to the messages for the third time, my neighbor came over with a vase of red and yellow roses from him that had been delivered an hour earlier." Nodding she said, "I was on cloud nine and I really haven't come down since…well I do a little when I smell Nick's shoes or find his boxer briefs on the floor but for the most part, I'm still floating." Taking Jillian's hand she gave it a squeeze. "I have a wonderful man and he's wonderful because of the fantastic job you did raising him. One mistake, one night doesn't erase all the great parenting you did. I know Nick as well as I know myself now…he feels ashamed and guilty about what he said to you, that's why he ran out of here. He had a much gentler way planned."
"It's been hours," Jillian said, worrying about her emotionally distraught son. "I was sure he'd call you by now."
Truthfully, Carrie thought he would have called too. "He didn't take his phone or his wallet. I'm sure he's walking around clearing his head. If you think you'll be okay, I'd like to get in the car and look for him."
"Go ahead, Dear. The Tylenol PM is starting to make me sleepy." She stood and took a deep breath. "I'm going to turn in for the night and pray that Nicky is here in the morning so we can talk this through."
Carrie rose to her feet and gave Jillian a hug. "Don't worry…everything will be all right."
The Townhouse
11:01 p.m.
Talking on the phone with his mother, Greg laughed. "I can't wait to get there either. As you know…I have big plans."
"Hey, Greg…someone who stopped by to drop off donations for the Back to School Book Drive wants to talk to you." Bev giggled uncontrollably after her statement. "Hold on…"
Kicking back on the bed, he enjoyed the music wafting out of the Beosound 9000 music system…Bob Marley's Three Little Birds.
"Hey there, Hojie," The sultry voice on the other end of the phone greeted. "Guess who?"
Stunned, he bolted up in bed. "Becca?"
"Your mom told me you were coming home for Labor Day. I can't wait to see you."
"Uh…" Jumping out of bed he raced to shut the bedroom door so Tawny wouldn't hear who he was talking to and get jealous.
"I wasn't myself the last time you were home. I had some crazy shit going on. I know you've heard Peter and I got divorced. I really need your shoulder, Hojie. Remember all those times I cried on your shoulder in high school? You were the only one who could mend my broken heart."
"Yeah…" Leaning against the wall he rolled his eyes. "So you could turn around and give it to another guy…or back to the same guy you were crying over. Cough…senior prom…cough."
"It's not like you wanted it," she laughed sweetly. "I'm hardly your type…I'm a girl."
"About that…" Clearing his throat he said, "I don't know where you got the idea I'm gay, but I'm not. I'm not even Bi. And I'm not in denial because I tested the waters and the results were positive for heterosexuality."
"But what about the pirate shirts and the eyeliner?"
"I was pissing off my dad, Becs." Lounging comfortably on the bed he laughed. "Sorry to disappoint you."
"Disappoint me? Are you kidding? This is the best news I've had all year. Don't you see? Now that I'm divorced and you're not gay, we can be together."
"Actually…"
"I've had fantasies about you."
"What?" He stammered, "You…had fantasies…about me?" Glancing at his reflection in the closet mirror he found it hard to believe that he was her fantasy man.
"But they always made me feel so naughty because I thought you were gay and I thought lusting after a gay man made me deviant. But now I can be your girl, just like I've always wanted to be. I'm hurting, Hojie…and only you can take away the pain."
"Becca…" Feeling bad that she was so vulnerable he wanted to let her down gently. "I'm with someone…not casually either. I love her. I'm asking her to marry me when I'm out there."
"Break it off with her."
"What?" He couldn't believe his ears. "No can do, she's pregnant with my twins and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. It's too late, Becca." His voice lowered an octave. "I gave you plenty of chances but…you broke my heart every time."
"I don't think you heard me. Break it off with the tramp. Dump her…now!"
"What's gotten into you?" Her voice was so icy he swore the phone felt cold. "I know the divorce was rough but…"
"You know I always get my way. If you bring that bimbo here, there will be hell to pay. I'll see to it personally. Hell! Isn't that what you're scared of Mr. Sanders? Going to hell?"
"Um…" Covering the phone he yelled for Tawny. "Honey!"
"She can't hear you." Becca laughed maniacally. "She can't help you. No one can because you're un-saveable…just ask Mrs. Hughes."
"How do you know about Mrs. Hughes?" His heart started pounding and the phone turned to ice. "Tawny!"
"I told you…she can't help you…no one can…because you're as good as dead."
"Stop it!" Rocking on the bed he shouted, "Stop messing with my head!"
"You tried to kill yourself, Hoj, and everything since…it's been a dream. You've been in a coma, a persistent vegetative state, since you were thirteen and all of this…this sweet life you think you have…the friends, the job, the girl, it's not real. Do you honestly think a girl as gorgeous and fun as Tawny would be interested in you? Right! You're dreaming…literally."
"Stop it! I never told you about my secret. This can't be…" Paralyzed with fear he couldn't leave the bed. "Tawny!"
"Duh!" Becca taunted. "You can't move because you're in a coma."
"Help me!" He begged, "Tawny, please help me…please..."
"You know who Tucker Mifflin really was? He was deathpersonified in your dream. He was supposed to get you that day but your mother wouldn't let the doctors pull the plug. Poor Bev…she can't let you go of you, but that will be changing soon. Your dad is going to file papers. Once you're daddy's boy instead of mommy's…the plug will be pulled and life as you know it will be over. Bev will be devastated, just like she was that day she found you an inch from death's door. It's been a long time coming, Gregory Hojem Sanders, but judgment day is right around the corner."
"Tawny!" Tears and sweat poured down his cheeks. "No! I want to live! Don't…"
"Greg….Greg…" Tawny held him as he thrashed. His screams had woken her and she had been trying desperately to snap him out of this latest night terror. "It's just another nightmare. Just a nightmare…shhh…I've got you." Brushing his sweat-drenched hair off his forehead she smiled into his open eyes. "It's okay. Really. I'm right here."
Reaching up he placed his hand on her cheek, the warmth of her skin immediately relaxing him. "You're real."
"Everything but my boobs." She smiled brighter as she started out of bed. "I'll get you some ice water."
"Don't go." Pulling her down onto his chest he breathed out. "This is all I need."
"Was it really bad?" Tawny softly asked as she snuggled him. "Because it seemed like the worst one yet."
"Yeah…now they even have background mood music…Three Little Birds was playing. I really thought they'd be getting better, not worse, but new stuff keeps popping up and mingling with the old material and…" He clutched her tight and worked to steady his breathing. "I think I'm just going to write Mrs. Hughes a note instead of going to see her tomorrow."
"You write really good notes," she whispered sweetly. "Gil and Sara were so moved by what you wrote about the birdhouse. Yeah…a note is exactly how you should handle it."
Closing his eyes he took a cleansing breath. "That settles it…I'll send Mrs. Hughes a nice card…and some candy…and a little vase of flowers or maybe a plant."
In a parental tone of warning she spoke his name. "Gregory..."
"You're right…just the card."
Crime Lab
11:07 p.m.
Staring at the enhanced image of the hand written message on the large wall screen, Sara, Gil and Jim remained silent. The actual card was in Trace with Hodges.
"I've got his personnel file," Sofia announced as she returned to the room. "Plenty of handwriting samples for Ex-Officer Rodgers."
Even though Gil was certain it would be a dead end he went with protocol. "Scan for comparison, Min." She was the new handwriting expert on staff and came with fantastic credentials.
Sara released a labored sigh. "You don't really think he wrote it in his normal handwriting, do you?"
"Oh, you'd be surprised how people slip up when they're trying to pull something off," Min countered.
Her emotions getting the best of her Sara retorted, "Not this guy. He's gotten away with murder and would have gotten away with…" One word from losing it, she chomped on her bottom lip.
"Hey, Sara…" Jim took her by the arm and hurried her out of the room. "I need your opinion on something in my office."
"Sorry," Min apologized to Gil when she realized why Sara was so edgy. "For a moment I forgot the card was sent to her and thought we were just talking about a case."
Gil nodded. "I'll be back. I'm going to check in with Hodges."
"I'll page you if there's news," Sofia assured him.
Racing down the hall Gil grabbed his cell, quickly punching in Warrick's number.
"Hey, Chief," Warrick answered in a weary tone. "Why are you calling me on your honeymoon? Need some tips?"
"I need you here," he responded in a no-nonsense tone. "Something's come up. Sara received a threatening birthday card in the mail."
"I'm out the door."
"Warrick…"
"Yeah?"
Grissom glanced over his shoulder. "For now…keep this from Nick. Greg too, because he has a big mouth."
"You think it's Rodgers, don't you?"
"Yes," he answered as he stepped into Trace. "But there's no reason to open old wounds until we know for sure."
Stevenson Park
11:10 p.m.
After parking her car on the side of the road, Carrie began walking into the park to check the basketball courts. In the summer, when the raging heat made it too hot to play until well after sundown, the city left the courts lit for pick-up games until eleven-thirty. She knew it was one of the places Nick liked to go when he was tense because he had mentioned it in one of their marathon phone conversations when she was still living in Seattle. He spoke of spending a lot of time there during the Rodgers trial, citing it was healthier than knocking beers back at bars.
Since he had grabbed his sneakers before walking out the door, she was hopeful he was at the park working out his anxiety in a healthy manner. When she was a hundred yards away from the courts she saw Nick making a jump shot and for the first time in hours her body relaxed. Now she knew why he hadn't called…he was absorbed in a game and when that happened he always lost track of time.
Checking her watch she realized the lights would go off in fifteen minutes. Knowing he needed to burn off as much tension as possible, she took a seat against a tree, to watch him play from afar.
Crime Lab
11:12 p.m.
Sitting on a stool Hodges briefed Grissom on what he had so far. "Since there was no DNA, it means saliva wasn't used to seal the envelope." He held up his mug. "It was moistened with coffee…my nose told me that."
"Specifics?"
"I'm working it."
Grissom nodded. "What else?"
"You'll love this…" Hodges shook his head. "About a year ago you and I had this bonding moment when I mentioned that I had a pet iguana. Do you remember, it?"
"No and why are we taking a trip down Insignificant Memory Lane when…"
"A ha!" Hodges grabbed a small plastic envelope filled with two tiny pellets. "That's just it…it's not insignificant. I said I had an iguana and you said…"
"I feed my racing cockroaches pet iguana food," Gil finished the thought as a new one invaded his brain. "You found those pellets of pet iguana food in the envelope."
"Along with traces of roach feces and one more thing used to set the mood." Hodges grabbed the report. "A chemical substance. Care to take a guess?"
"GHB?"
"Ding." Hodges handed over the file. "It was smeared over the pre-printed words 'because I'm always thinking of you'."
Just then Gil's pager went off. "It's Sofia. Don't go anywhere, Hodges. I'll be back in a few." With that he raced out the door.
When he reached Sofia and Min, Gil snapped, "That was fast. Did you find something already?"
"Yep." Sofia shook her head. "But you're not going to like it."
"I think that was a given." He stared at the screen. "Break it to me, Min."
Min sat back in her chair and removed her glasses. "Often, when a person is masking their own handwriting, they get it right with the exception of one or two trouble spots. They slip up. As you know, we have handwriting samples from all CSIs in the computer and I always start out running the sample against what we have."
Grissom's eyes flew to the now jumbo-image of the words Happy Birthday. "Unbelievable…"
"Those two Y's…they're an exact match to yours."
Stevenson Park
11:29 p.m.
For the last twenty minutes, Carrie had watched the ten men playing basketball on Court 1 as if their life depended on it and no guy was more fired up than hers. And even though her future husband was a jock, she knew Nick's competitive nature had little to do with his drive tonight.
"Damn!" Victor yelled as the lights went out, his team losing by two. "Let's hear it, Stokes."
"I don't need to rub it in." Nick laughed, "You'll beat yourself up far worse than I could."
"Don't stay away so long next time," Marty Nunez slapped Nick on the back. "You always bring it."
"Where are we drinking!" Victor yelled. "Stokes should buy."
"Next time for sure," he answered while picking up his discarded shirt. He augmented his reasoning with a lie. "I have to be at work in four hours so I need to pass."
Carrie was amazed and grateful that the three courts were emptying so fast. Staying in her secluded spot she watched curiously to see what her mentally overwhelmed man would do once the last guy left. As she thought he might, Nick rested against a large tree trunk and blew out a sharp breath. Alone at last, he could drop the front.
"Hey there, Slick," Carrie greeted as she emerged from the trees. "And here I thought football was your passion."
Stunned to see his fiancée walking towards him Nick walked to meet her. "What are you doing here? It's late. Are you crazy? You shouldn't be walking through the park at night in the dark."
"I drove." She pointed across the soccer fields. "I didn't realize there was a parking lot so close to the courts." Smiling, she came to rest standing in front of him. "You didn't call. I was worried."
"Sorry, I had no idea what time it was until the lights went out. I thought I had only been here an hour." Thirsty, he smacked his lips. "I was just on my way home."
"Really?"
"No, but I would have called from the pay phone down the street." Looking down at the grass he quietly asked, "How is she?"
"Better than I thought she would be considering…"
"Considering how I blasted her." His eyes remained fixed on the ground. "Damn, I was brutal."
"No, considering how much she loves you and prides herself on being an excellent mother." Reaching out she took his hand. "She understands where the anger was coming from, Nicky. She's not upset with you or hurt by what you said. And frankly…after twenty five years of it building inside you I think you were pretty calm." Smiling, she sweetly brushed her fingertips over his cheek. "You didn't even say any bad words."
"Really?" He found it hard to believe since he was known to toss a few when pissed off.
"Your mom isn't upset with you, Nicky. She's disappointed in herself and ready to exact some revenge on Michelle Anson Travers."
Snapping his head to look at her he gulped. "You got a last name."
"Your mom remembered her last name was Anson and that she went to Southern Methodist University. I went online and found information about her on their alumni pages. Her married named is Travers. She's living in Naperville, Illinois and…" Squeezing his hand she told him, "She's teaching third grade at a private boys school. I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but it doesn't mean…"
"Yes, it does." Shaking loose of her grip he snipped, "Hell, I'm all for optimism but come on, Carrie…she's a pedophile who likes little boys and she took a job that surrounds her with them. I don't think it was because the school offered good health insurance. Shit! This is my worst god damn nightmare come true!" Or so he thought…
The man's voice rang through the night air as he pointed the gun. "Don't move and give me your wallets!" At six foot three and two-hundred fifty pounds he loomed over the horrified couple standing five feet in front of him. "Hands up!"
While Carrie screamed from the terrifying surprise, Nick showed his hands and calmly told the armed man, "Nobody's moving, so stay cool." He hoped Carrie could comply but he didn't want to take his eyes off the gun long enough to check her post-scream mental state. It was all so surreal, seconds earlier he was lamenting about the past and now all he could think about was the future he might never have with Carrie. Shaking off the terror, he fought to stay in the moment.
"Wallets! Now!"
"Nicky…" Carrie stood frozen, the color draining from her face. Staring at the gun aimed directly at her chest she could only pray it wouldn't be fired. "…I don't have my purse. Please don't…" Her shaking intensified as horrific thoughts consumed her mind.
Nick could hear Carrie's breathing speed up but he overrode the instinct to fight and focused on assessing the danger at hand. "Check out what I'm wearing, man. I was here playing ball. I don't have my wallet on me and the lady doesn't have her purse with her. We can't give you what we don't have."
"Back away from your boyfriend." When she didn't comply he accentuated his point by putting a second hand on the pistol. "I said back away!"
"Do what he says, Carrie," Nick advised since the gunman had all the power. "Do it, Honey…right now."
"I…okay." Carrie reluctantly did as requested, having faith in Nick's ability to read the situation.
With every step Carrie took Nick's panic increased. "Look man…there's been no damage done here. Just walk away."
"I want those keys," he barked while pointing the gun at the quivering woman.
"My…"
"The ones in your hand!"
From self-defense training Carrie knew if she were alone getting carjacked she should toss them and run, but this scenario was different because Nick was in the equation and they were standing in a park with no safe place to go to. "Take them! It's the Jetta parked on the street at the other end of the soccer field. My purse is in there too." Fear knotting inside her, she extended her trembling left hand. "I'll toss them to you."
"And I want the ring." He laughed maniacally. "How much did that rock set you back, Loverboy?"
"You can have it." After switching the keys to her right hand, Carrie tugged off her engagement ring.
Instinctively Nick tensed as he struggled to predict what the guy would do next.
"Save the heroics for the basketball court." The gunman moved his aim to the jittery man. "You can buy her a new one."
"I'm not moving," Nick assured him as he stared at the pistol. "Nobody's moving…and we're cooperating." From the gunman's statement about being a hero, Nick decided the guy was most likely just interested in their assets and not taking their lives. "Carrie, give him the keys and the ring so he can go."
She took it to mean that she shouldn't attempt to create a distraction because Nick believed if the guy got what he wanted he wouldn't hurt them. "Here." She held out her open palm to display the keys and the ring. "I'm going to put them on the ground for you and back away.
Nick was thrilled she knew not to hand it him directly and give him a chance to grab her wrist.
"No!" He snarled, "I'm not bending down and giving your boyfriend a chance to jump me. Put them in my hand!"
Every nerve in his body on alert, Nick readied to pounce if the guy made a move. "Nice and slow, Carrie."
Fighting the urge to run, she stepped forward with her hand extended, her eyes fixed on the gun pointed directly at Nick. "Here. Now please just…"
Before his eyes, Nick saw the gunman slap his hand over Carrie's open palm and then yank her close. "No!"
"Nick!" she shrieked as the gun went off and the shooter tightened his grip on her. Panting in terror she helplessly watched her fiancé clutching his chest and then crying out in agony.
"I told you not to play hero!" the gunman screamed as he saw his target collapse and fall to the ground. "I would have given her back after I was done with her."
"Nick! Oh my God!" Carrie fought to break free, but the inches and pounds her captor had on her made it impossible. "No! Please!" In the darkness of the park it only took seconds for the gunman to carry her far enough to lose sight of Nick's slumped body. "I can't leave him! He could bleed to death," she pleaded irrationally to the man who obviously didn't value human life. In between sobs she cried out, "Nicky…I can't get to you…hang on…please hang on."
"Shut up or you'll be bleeding to death with him."
Carrie saw her car in the distance and prayed another would come driving down the desolate dead end street. "You don't need a hostage," she reasoned as her body spasmodically trembled. "There's no one else here. Just take the car and go." Desperately close to hyperventilating, Carrie gulped for air.
"I don't want a hostage," he rasped as she licked her cheek. "I want a playmate."
Determined not to be sexually assaulted again, she was finally able to push past her fear. Hoping to think of an escape solution, she flashed through scenarios. How would he get her inside the car? How would he restrain her? She knew there would have to be a moment of opportunity and she'd take it to save herself and Nick.
Upon slamming Carrie's chest and face against the side of the car, the gunman took the ring and the keys from her hand. "Don't move." Then, stepping back five feet he used the remote to unlock the vehicle. "Okay…open the back door then toss me that lacy bra you're wearing." He planned to use it to bind her hands.
"I'm going to be sick," Carrie announced in between a flurry of coughs as she held onto the open car door and leaned forward. "Oh god…" She moved her hands to her stomach. "I can't..."
"Don't puke in the car!" The gunman blasted as he saw her collapsing toward the backseat.
As she whirled around, Carrie launched the hefty law book she had grabbed from the back seat directly at the man's head. But before she could race forward to disarm her attacker, Nick was already there wrestling for control of the gun. "How…"
"Take cover, Carrie!" Nick yelled as he struggled.
Running around the car to grab her purse from the passenger side, Carrie covered her mouth as a reminder to hold in her screams.
Although it was only a matter of seconds, it seemed like an eternity before she saw Nick in control and the man's hands high in the air. Finally she could peel her eyes away long enough to retrieve her cell. As she was wrapping her hands around the phone, the sound of a gun shot jolted her. "Nick!" Turning, she saw him holding the discharged weapon about ten yards in the distance.
Still in shock, Nick frantically tracked the direction of Carrie's voice and finally saw her by the passenger door of the car. "Are you okay! Did he hurt you? I can't come to you. I need to keep the gun on him because I don't know if he has any other weapons."
"I'm just shaken up." Carrie's breath caught in her throat as she nodded and her tears finally spilled as she hurried towards him. "How bad are you hurt?" For the first time she saw his blood shirt and her heart skipped a beat.
"Stay there!" He cautioned, wanting to spare her from the ugliness. "It's just a flesh wound in my arm. I faked it being serious so I could sneak through the trees and surprise him at the car. He would have shot me dead if I attempted to get up back there." Nick clenched the gun with both hands while trying to get his head together. "There was no way in hell I was letting him drive off with you, Sweetheart. Are you sure you're okay? Please tell me he didn't touch you."
"He only restrained me, he didn't have a chance to..." Frantically shaking, Carrie leaned against her car and raised the phone. "I can't believe that just happened."
"What did you see?" he nervously asked. "Did you see me shoot him?" It was all a blur.
Lowering the phone she answered, "I saw him put up his hands, but then I…" She inhaled sharply and said what she assumed had happened. "…I saw him lunge at you."
Relieved, he gulped down his last duress-induced doubt. "That's what I thought happened but…I was so scared for you…it all happened so fast…I thought maybe I…" When he heard the assailant writhing in pain Nick refocused and directed, "Carrie, make the call."
Sniffling she replied, "Okay."
As soon as he saw her dialing, Nick soberly said to their attacker, "I'm sorry to say you'll bleed out and die from that kill-shot before an ambulance gets here. First Aid won't prevent it and I'm not rendering it anyway because I don't have any gloves. Seeing how you just tried to kill me and rape my fiancée, I feel morally justified in choosing not to risk my life to save yours." He crouched lower and whispered, "Are there any last words you'd like me to pass on to someone?"
"Fuck…you…," the man garbled as the blood pooled in his throat.
"Okay, then." Still operating in a state of shock, Nick reached into the guy's pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Assuming this is yours…let me see if I can find out your name before you die." He pulled out the license. "Glen Montana."
Carrie cautiously approached. "They're on their way." She immediately averted her eyes from the man's blood-soaked body.
When he saw the woman within earshot Glen gasped for air, "I…d…did…"
"Sweetheart…you don't want to see this." Nick calmly pointed toward her Jetta. "Please wait by the car."
Not faking the need to vomit this time, Carrie grabbed her stomach and raced away.
"…d…didn't…"
"Mr. Montana…" Nick returned his gaze to their attacker and solemnly said, "Even though you showed none to my fiancée and me…I hope God has mercy on your soul." With that he hurried off to help Carrie, who he heard getting sick on the side of the road.
As he lay alone in the grass watching the stars blur, Glen Montana, a convicted rapist with a rap sheet as long as his arm, whispered on his dying breath, "…lunge."
Crime Lab
11:49 p.m.
Brass sat with Sara at the small round table in the corner of his office. "Rodgers sent you that card because he wanted to bring you down…make you sweat…get you jumpy."
"He succeeded," she commented while continuing to mindlessly stir her decaf coffee.
"Only because you're letting him," he counseled. "You have a choice here. You can crawl back under the rock you've fought to crawl out from this year, or you can keep moving forward. He only claims a victory if you retreat."
She nodded to acknowledge she heard him, not that she was agreeing.
"He could pull this off from the joint every year for the rest of his life."
"Jim…I realize you're being a logical man but, right now I'm an emotional woman and I'm just not up for it" She glanced over with glassy eyes. "I'm scared he's going to make good on his threat, I'm embarrassed about how stupid I was this time last year, and most of all I'm pissed off that he could ruin what was one of the happiest days…" Her voice cracked. "…of my life."
"Let it out, Sara." Jim scooted his chair closer and slid the box of Kleenex toward her.
She grabbed three tissues at once. "Exactly how many times do I get to be his damn victim? I hate him," she breathed out into the tissues. "Dr. Myers would say it's healthy to acknowledge my anger."
"Is that as angry as you get?" Jim desperately tried to snap her out of the downward spiral. "I've gotten that ticked off at the guy behind the counter at Guido's for getting my sandwich wrong two days in a row. I bet Dr. Myers would only give that a five out of ten."
"Stop it, Jim." Sara shook her head. "You can't joke me out of this."
"Sorry…" He brought his hand to his heart. "I just think you should toss an expletive in there when you think ill of the asshole, that's all." He nudged her. "But I'm from Jersey and a big fan of The Sopranos so, when my temper flares over scumbags, I always feel compelled to…"
"I hate that god damn manipulative, maniacal bastard!" she screamed while throwing the box of tissues at the wall.
"I don't know about you, but I feel better now." Brass flashed a supportive smile.
"I do too," she admitted while crashing against his shoulder. "I really was having the best day…the best year."
When the door opened they both jumped.
"What is it, Judy?" Brass asked, a little put off that she barged in without knocking. "I'm not officially here."
Standing in the doorway she urgently said, "There was a robbery/attempted rape and murder incident at Stevenson Park involving Nick and his fiancée. We just got the call. They need the scene processed."
"What!" Sara flew out of the chair with Jim right behind her.
"They're okay!" She held her hands in front of her. "Stay calm…it's bad for the baby to get too worked up." She knew the tension was high already because news travels fast and she heard about the threatening greeting card. "Nick was shot, but not seriously, and the guy who attacked them is dead, I don't have any specifics on Carrie. They're already in route to the hospital."
This latest news finally tipped Sara over the edge. "Why is this happening? Were we too happy? Why!" Through blurry eyes she saw her husband and Warrick standing behind Judy.
Gil swallowed the lump in his throat and kept his theory to himself. "Jim...as the Master Criminalist I'm officially taking over this case. Warrick…you and Sara head to the hospital. I'm going to take Pete and Sofia to work the scene."
"You got it, Boss." Warrick responded, grateful for the assignment.
Sara gave Gil a quick hug. "Call me if you find anything…" She pulled back and sighed, "…if you find anything that proves it wasn't random."
He nodded before hurrying down the hall.
"I'll go with you to the hospital," Brass announced as he placed his hand on Sara's back. "Come on."
Author's Notes:
Thanks for the review Misty J, especially for letting me know how you felt about my portrayal of the characters! I really appreciate you taking the time.
Some story comments:
The NC 2nd date flashback/story was not in the previous stories in case anyone was wondering, it's new. The intent of course was not only to make Jillian happier but, to show the love between the couple right before they were in a life threatening situation. I hope it worked that way anyway.
For anyone happy to have Mike back…you'll get plenty of him and as you can see…he's up to the same ol' tricks.
I wanted to show the details of a Greg nightmare since he's been having them regularly and there will be some in depth analysis of it with Dr. Myers shortly.
Although Sean didn't have a paragraph in the prologue he is featured in this story quite often so for anyone who missed him and wondered, don't worry. As you can see for starters, he's going to be attending school with Lindsay.
Next chapter will post on Tuesday, 8/23
Thanks for reading and reviewing,
Maggs