Note: so sorry for the delay in updating. between helping out with the family business everyday and then my parents deciding to do all their Christmas shopping online this year...the computer has become prime real estate in my house. so without further delay...here is chapter seven! hope y'all enjoy. i'll try (now that all Christmas shopping is done) to update more frequently...perhaps having chapter eight up by Wednesday latest! thanks for all the reviews...they make me smile!
Sunday 8:00 a.m.
Brass was waiting in his car outside the McCallum family home. He could have been sleeping from the reaction he gave as Nick tapped on the driver side window. The detective nearly jumped through the roof.
"Shit, Nicky!" he said climbing out of the Taurus. "You almost gave me a heart attack."
"Sorry, man," the CSI smiled patting the man on the shoulder.
"You sleepin' on the job?" Warrick laughed as the men congregated at the rear of the car, just in front of the walkway leading to the house.
"Had a long night," the detective shrugged.
"Preaching to the choir," Nick nodded. "You been here long?"
"Just got here. I was waiting for you guys to show up. You said the lady owns a Colt .45?"
"Yeah, it's the same kind of gun used in all four grocery store robberies," Nick nodded, his hands on his hips. He gave the house a good once over. It was a typical Vegas home, a two floor white stucco with a one two garage. From the looks of things it had been a while since the house had last been painted.
"Well let's get this over with," Brass sighed leading the way up the front walk. "If all goes well I'll buy you breakfast," he said ringing the doorbell.
A couple minutes past before Mrs. McCallum opened the front door. She was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved tee shirt sporting the UNLV logo. She had aged considerably since the last time Nick and Warrick had seen her. Losing a son could do that to a person, Warrick thought as he removed his sun glasses.
"Mrs. McCallum, I'm Detective Jim Brass. This is Warrick Brown and Nick Stokes of the Crime Lab," he said displaying his badge. "May we come in?"
"Oh my God," she said brining her hand to her mouth. "Please don't tell me…Kevin…" she trailed off.
"Ma'am, we just want to talk with you," Brass said raising a hand to calm the lady. The three men huddled on the small front porch must have been a sight for the neighbors to see.
"So Kevin's okay?" she asked slowly opening the screen door to allow the detective and CSIs access to her home. "Wait a minute," she started as the men entered the front vestibule, "I remember you guys," she said getting a better look at the two criminalists.
"Mrs. McCallum, we understand you own a Colt .45," Nick said with a nod of acknowledgement yet getting right down to business. The sooner this was done the better. He remembered the case from a few years back. It wasn't a pretty one; a dead kid never was. This particular case had proven just how reckless and irresponsible kids could be. For kicks, the kids had attempted several stunts like those done on the MTV show "Jackass." Videotape had caught them all on tape. As a result, a kid ended up dead, Timmy McCallum.
"Yes," she nodded crossing her arms across her chest as if to ward off the cold. She didn't welcome them any further than the front foyer. "Why?"
"We're following all possible leads in a chain of grocery store robberies," Brass said. "We'd like to see the gun."
"Do you have a warrant?" she asked. The air in the house suddenly grew twenty degrees colder.
"Do we need one?" Brass asked.
"I haven't had the gun out since my husband bought it over twenty years ago," she shrugged not ready to help them out. "I don't even know where it is."
"Do you mind if we have a look around?" Warrick asked.
"Yes, I do mind," she said the chill now in her voice. "You guys ripped my life apart three years ago; I'm not going to let you rip my home apart as well. If you want to look through my things you come back with a court order," she said opening the front door. It was their cue to leave.
"Just one more question," Nick stopped on the front porch. "How's Kevin doing?"
"I haven't talked to him in a month," she shrugged. "He's a senior at UNLV," she said ending the conversation as she shut the door.
Things hadn't gone as smoothly as the criminalists had hoped. In fact they were no where nearer a solid lead than they were before their trip to the McCallum homestead. Frustration was mounting. Nick pinched the bridge of his nose hoping to ward off the headache he felt starting behind his eyes. He put on his sunglasses to ward off the glare of the early morning sun.
"Damn," Warrick said leaning against the detective's car. "There was a fire in her eyes."
"But it felt as cold as January in Michigan," Brass said.
"We need to get that gun," Nick said pulling out the keys to the SUV he and Warrick had used to get to the house.
"I'll call Judge Harwell," the man said pulling out his cell phone. "We'll have that warrant in five minutes tops," he smiled punching in the necessary numbers.
Within fifteen minutes the detective and two criminalists, field kits in hand, were back on the McCallum front porch.
"Knock, knock," the detective smiled waving a piece of paper in front of Mrs. McCallum's screen door. "How's this for service?" he asked practically letting himself in the front door. "Why don't we chat while these guys do their jobs?" he said leading the lady outside. It was still quite warm for late November; it was already nearing 60 degrees.
Nick pulled on a pair of latex gloves as he headed upstairs. Warrick stayed downstairs and covered the kitchen and living room. It was a three bedroom house. The first room was Mrs. McCallum's. It was fairly tidy, though the bed remained unmade. There was no obvious sign of a gun or a lock box. Nick proceeded to search the connected bathroom as well as the remaining two bedrooms and additional bathroom.
It had been three years since the death of her youngest son, yet the boy's bedroom remained as though the boy had just gone to school for the day. Nick shook his head as he entered the boy's room and continued his work. He hadn't found much thus far.
Entering the final bedroom, Kevin's room, he smiled. "Hadn't talked to him in a month, huh?" Nick said to himself noting the well lived in room. The bed was left unmade; clothes lay over the chair next to the desk; on the desk lay a laptop computer. Taking a quick cruise through the most recently visited websites, he continued his search. Lifting the sheets to peer under the bed, Nick smiled to himself.
"Jackpot!" he said pulling out a metal lock box. It was empty of a gun, though a few empty shell casings remained.
Nick finished his search in the second bathroom. Finding a dripping faucet, a wet bar of soap and a pile of dirty clothes he made his way back down to the front entrance. Warrick was there waiting with Brass and Mrs. McCallum.
"I thought you said you hadn't talked to Kevin in a month?" he asked pointing his thumb over his shoulder up the stairs.
"I…haven't," she shrugged, her gaze becoming slightly shifty.
"It looks to me that someone's been using his room and bathroom recently. You want to tell me you're renting out?" Nick asked.
"So, Kevin came home last night," she shrugged. "So what?"
"So what?" Nick asked. "So, I found this under Kevin's bed," he held up the lock box he had sealed in a clear plastic bag. "You want to explain this?"
"It's a lock box," she shrugged.
"You don't know anything about this?" Nick asked. "How about the shell casings I found inside it? Or how about the Cold .45 I didn't find in it?"
"I told you, I haven't seen or thought about the gun since my husband bought it twenty years ago."
"You see," Nick nodded, "that doesn't make much since either, 'cause the gun is registered in your name."
"My husband bought it for me," she sighed with a roll or her eyes. "He worked nights when the boys were small. He thought it'd be good protection. I never used it, never had it out of its box."
"So where's the gun now?" Brass asked.
"I don't know," she said with another dramatic sigh.
"And Kevin?" Nick asked.
"We'll need to talk to him," Brass nodded. "Do you know where we can find him?"
"He lives on campus," she said still not wanting to cooperate. "You should be able to find him in his dorm," she said reluctantly writing his address on a scrap piece of paper.
"Thank you," Brass said taking the piece of paper and leading the CSIs outside. "We'll be in touch."
"Detective," Mrs. McCallum stopped the men halfway down the front walk, "Kevin's a good boy."
"I'm sure he is," the detective nodded as the CSIs continued to their Denali.
"So…" Warrick said as he and Nick loaded their gear into the back of the SUV.
"We've got nothin'," Nick shook his head shutting the car door.
"We've had less," Warrick shrugged.
"Yeah and we've had a hell of a lot more," he said tossing his friend the keys. "You drive. Hey Brass, we'll see you back at the lab," he called across the street as Brass was getting into his car. The man nodded with a wave as they climbed into their respective vehicles and drove back to PD.