Deceptive Intentions
by Nicol Leoraine
Chapter 4
"Catherine - what are you doing here?" Sara asked, surprised to find the older woman walking out from Dr. Robbins workroom. She thought the mother was already home with her daughter.
"My car crash victim. Who would say that a forty-five year old man would start with drugs."
"Maybe an old habit?"
Catherine wearily shook her head.
"No, he was clear up till yesterday. Then he won two thousand dollars and somewhere bought a pill. Guess nobody told him not to drive in drugged state."
Sara clicked her tongue.
"You going home?"
"Yeah, there´s nothing more to do for now. Detective Francis has some suspects - but they´re available only by midnight. What about you?"
"I´m just gonna look at our victim, then I´m outta here. Hope I can catch a little shut-eye."
"Did you see Nick?"
"Yeah, stopped by the way to the lab. He was groggy though. Looked troubled, too. But didn´t want to talk about it, so I rather left. Maybe when they release him he´ll be in better mood." Sara wasn´t sure of it, but she had a feeling Nick´s problem was somehow related to Grissom.
"I think I will stop by on my way home," Catherine thought out loud.
"Just be carefull, so he won´t bite off your head."
Catherine smiled at the comment, knowing well enough how moody Nick could be when incapacitated. Lindsay wasn´t an angel too, when she hurt.
"I´ll manage. What about the case? Do you have a clue as to who attacked Nick?"
"Still working on it," Sara said and they parted, Catherine heading for the lockers and Sara to the morgue. Dr. Al Robbins was changing his gloves and covering the body of the car crash victim. On the other table lie Paul Mason.
For a thirty-one year old man, he looked younger. Thick, black hair was cut short, almost army like. He was tall and even though probably wasn´t making out in the gym every day, had a good figure. Paul Mason was a man that girl might have liked.
"I heard you have a suspect - it´s a woman?" Al Robbins started, looking up at Sara from behind the mask.
"Yes. Did you find anything that would indicate it could be her?"
"Well, I doubt it, but lets first look at the body." Dr. Robbins pulled down the blanket but left it covering the vaist of the corpse.
"We have a caucasian male, thirty one year old. Height 5ft'10, 162 lb. Up till the time of death he was in good health. An older fracture of the tibia on the right leg, healed up nicely. Now for the cause of death.
There are several stab wounds. One hit the liver, second broke through the sternum and damaged the heart. The third one caught him in the stomach, this one was the most harmless, as it didn´t hit any internal organs, 'only' nicked an artery. All in all... the man died from heavy blood loss and shock. It was a quick and brutal assault."
"Would he´d had a chance if an ambulance was called in time?"
Dr. Robbins shook his head.
"No, even if they were there in the moment he fell to the floor, they could´ve done nothing to save him. Every one of the three wounds was fatal."
Sara took in a breath, trying to concentrate on Dr. Robbins, rather than the lifeless body. How easily could it be one of them...
"Why did you ask if our suspect is a woman?" she suddenly asked.
"You see, the force and violence of the attack... also the height of the kille - just doesn´t fit a woman. To broke through the sternum, it takes much strength. And even if I heard of very brutal attacks by woman who were abused, or murders in affect, I doubt she would be capable of it. Of course, I don´t know how big or strong your suspect is."
"Maybe 5foot '5, not more. And she is lean. Not to mention there was no blood on her clothes, though she had a time to change."
"Anyway, I assume from the trajectory of the wounds that the attacker was taller than the victim. Also he was right handed."
"Brenda is a leftie," Sara sighed as she remembered her scribbling down her signature on the statement.
"I would look for another suspect, if I were you." Dr. Robbins said and covered up the corpse.
xxxx
It was on the next shift that things started to move. After several hours of rest - which most of the team members were practically forced to take, they returned to work. They counted it lucky that there wasn´t any new case and they all could concentrate on Paul Mason and the related attack on Nick.
Grissom was leaning over the microscope, studying the fibers they found near the body.
"This looks like terry cloth," he mumbled and frowned. The fibers were originally white, but now stained with red.
"Maybe towell?" suggested Warrick and leaned closer to the microscope. Grissom shrugged.
"Or a terry bathrobe."
"Which you found in the bedroom. Okay, what does it tell us?"
"It could´ve been there before the murder happened. Or - she wore it when coming out of the bathroom. She was near the body, then took her clothes from the bed, leaving the bathrobe there."
"But the bathrobe was in the bathroom and there are no blood stains on the robe."
"Maybe we should´ve asked if Mason hadn´t asked for another bathrobe." Warrick said. Grissom shot him a look and after a thought nodded.
"She could´ve taken her´s and dispose of it while she was gone. We know she didn´t kill him - but she´s lying to us, either way."
"Yeah. If she had the bathrobe, she probably wasn´t afraid to go into the room. But if the killer saw her..."
"He didn´t. If the killer wasn´t her complice - which I don´t believe is true, because then they could´ve taken whatever they wanted from the scene - no reason to attack Nick."
"So what are you suggesting, Grissom? That we´re dealing with two different things? One is the murder, second is the attack on Nick?" Warrick didn´t believe that those two things were not related.
"They are. We just don´t know how, yet."
With a frustrated sigh, Warrick turned back to the meticulous job of taking fingerprints from every object they collected, while Grissom silently watched him. He knew Warrick was angry at him because of what happened to Nick, but he also knew it has more to do with Warrick´s earlier mishaps then anything else. Though he didn´t blame the young man for it - he knew the best just what could´ve happened.
He never again wanted to see one of his people down, hurt or dead. He didn´t want to feel that cold pain that filled him the moment he thought Nick was dead.
But Grissom knew he couldn´t quit with the job, just like Nick won´t quit. Because even if there were risks, it was deep inside all of them. Maybe one time they´ll burn out like candles, but till then, this job was all they had.
Sara cleared her throat and both men looked at her. Grissom frowned, seeing the snug grin on her face.
"Okay, folks... I have two files. You can choose."
"Two files?" Warrick repeated, not knowing what she´s talking about. Grissom raised his eyebrows, curious.
"The footage from the garages. I have two suspicious men, each one left the hotel in the time Nick was attacked. None of them had a room in the hotel, both wore dark clothes." Sara already put the tape into the video. They saw a man with a bag getting into a blue Isuzu and making a hasty retreat. The licence plate on the car was from California. The second film showed them a hispanic man, getting into a yellow van. There was a huge sign on the side of the van stating that the car belongs to the LV Nonstop Towing & Repair.
"The van is registered under Mitch Kaslinsky, an owner of the service station. It wasn´t reported as stolen. But I can tell you for sure that man wasn´t Mitch Kaslinsky. He´s at least ten years older and caucasian."
Grissom twitched his lips, watching as the yellow van rode out of the parking lot.
"Which floor was this taken at?" Warrick asked.
"The first, Nick was attacked on the third. I have also the video from the elevators, but the man used the stairs. He was in hurry, though."
"He had a reason, too." Greg Sanders stood in the door, grinning like an idiot. His smile faltered a little when he saw Grissom, but he had results and that was all that mattered.
"What did you find, Greg?" Grissom asked, cocking his head at the young lab tech.
"You remember the stains on Nick´s shirt? And the stains on the blouse of that girl? Well, they´re identical. Wanna guess what they were from?"
No one said anything.
"Motor oil. And before you ask, Grissom - it´s the most used type in U.S."
Grissom frowned, looking back at the paused video, then at Sara.
"Service station?"
Sara grinned.
"Get the adress, I´m calling Brass. I think I need to check out my car."
xxxx
Mitch Kaslinsky wasn´t very surprised by the unexpected visit of several police officers and the two CSI´s. Brass sent the cops to look around for their suspect, then along with Grissom and Sara followed Kaslinsky into his office.
"What did he do?" asked Kaslinsky, when Sara showed him the photo of the hispanic man, getting into the van.
"Do you know him?"
"Of course," Kaslinsky replied, then frowned, thinking if he should speak to them at all. "Well..." he stuttered, clearly uncertain what to do.
"Who is it? And don´t try to cover for him - or you´ll get charged with accomplice in the attack on an officer. Well?" Brass raised his eyebrows, dearing the man to lying.
"I didn´t do anything!" Kaslinsky replied, offended by the false accusation. "You can ask anyone here - I won´t hurt a fly! What the hell did the man get himself into!"
"The name," Brass hissed and Kaslinsky paused his tirade, as if just now realizing those people meant trouble.
"Okay, okay. No rush there. That´s Pete Gonzales. He worked for me more than a year now."
"Worked?" Sara asked, curious.
"Yeah well, whatever he did this time, I won´t tolerate it anymore. I don´t need to have cops breathing at my neck because of that scum."
"Where is he now?" Grissom spoke for the first time. Until then he was looking out of the office, at the service bay. There were several cars with open hoods and two man in yellow overals were quietly conversating, while changing pneumatics. Grissom saw as the third man pulled himself out from under a red Camaro, and wiped his hands against his overall, leaving dark, oily stains.
"I don´t know," Kaslinsky replied to the question. Before Brass had a chance to open his mouth, he added: "He was here just an hour ago, but his shift ended."
"When will he return?"
"He took a day off, so probably the day after tomorrow."
"So he was working yesterday?"
"Yeah, from eight at night to six in the morning."
"It is normal for him to work the night shifts?"
"Yeah, he does it quite often. I pay better at night shifts, but you should know that, huh?" Kaslinsky grinned, but his smile faltered as no one returned it. He coughed and nervously looked out of the window, watching as two cops started talking with his mechanics. They showed them the photo and Grissom saw them nod. He looked back at Kaslinsky.
"Was he there yesterday between two and three in the morning?"
Kaslinsky blinked, then brushed a stray hair from his face.
"I think he was, but I need to look into the logs."
"Before you do so, can you give us his adress?"
Kaslinsky nodded and walked up to the registry, searching through the files. He pulled out the file with the name of Peter Miguel Gonzales, then listed in it.
"There it is," he said the adress and pulled out another book, looking at the logs.
"What was the time you said?"
"Between two and three a.m." Sara repeated.
"Uhm, yeah. He was there all right. He worked on that blue Ford Taurus, there."
"Were you there?"
"Yes. Look, I don´t know what Pete did, but I can tell you he was here at the time you said. Sure, a hour later someone called him and he had to go, but-"
"Who called him?" Grissom asked.
"I don´t know. I´m not his mother. He just told me some friend is in trouble and that he needs to take the car. He returned it all right two hours later, so I didn´t ask him for details."
"He took your van. You often loan your car to your employees?"
"If they ask, yes. I don´t see anything wrong about it. Pete loaned the car several times before and there was no problem with that. What the hell did he do, anyway?"
"He attacked one of my people, and he´s also a suspect in a case of murder," Grissom said harshly. Mitch Kaslinsky gulped and took a step back.
"I´m sorry. But I have nothing to do with it. Why don´t you go and talk with Pete? I´m sure you´re wrong. The guy is a little impertinent, and he has his own troubles, but he won´t kill anyone, that I know."
"You better be right," Brass muttered. "Don´t leave the city, and definitely don´t warn Gonzales. Or you´ll get a pretty vacation in the state prison."
As the trio left the office, Kaslinsky shook his head and wearily sat down. He just wasn´t lucky in choosing his personnel.
xxxx
Nick Stokes wasn´t a happy camper. He thought at least in hospital he could get some rest, but no - the nurses woke him every two hours and asked silly questions. He had just enough of it - what he wanted was his own bed, drawn shades and quiet. Not the constant mill of people.
At least, after the morning exam the doctor gave him thumbs up. That meant strict orders, recommendation of not staying alone which Nick waved off, stating he´ll crash at his friends. The doctor frowned, doubting his words, but nevermind filled the discharge papers. He slowly dressed, thankful that Warrick stopped at his house earlier and brought some clothes with him, because Grissom took his as an evidence. Nick grimaced at the thought. Even though he felt better then the day before, he was still upset by what happened.The attack replayed itself in his dreams, so the nurses weren´t the only ones waking him up. Worst thing though was that Grissom was a part of his nightmare too. Nick shook off the depressive images, and concentrated on the simple act of walking straight. His side still hurt like hell and he supressed the urge to bend a little. Nick paused by the reception, ready to ask for change into the automat, so he could call a cab, when he spotted the dark head of his friend.
"Hey, man! Hope you wasn´t waiting too long?" Warrick asked with a smile.
"Waiting for you my whole life, man." Nick replied with a weary grin. Warrick grabbed him by the arm and led the way out of the hospital.
"How the hell did you know I´m getting out?" Nick asked, surprised by his friends presence, but also slightly annoyed. Under any other circumstance, Nick would take it like something nice, like a proof that they care. But now it was just another sign that they were thinking he needed help.
"I called in and the doc said he´s releasing you. I thought you´ll need a ride..." Warrick looked at Nick and saw the tight set of jaws. "Hope you don´t mind."
"Nah, it´s cool."
But Nick´s voice was all but cool and Warrick got a feeling something troubles his friend more than just a headache. The silence in the car was an evidence to this and Warrick watched his friend closely. Nick leaned against the side door, looking out of the window. After a while though he straightened up a bit, the passing view making him slightly nauseous. Warrick rather slowed down, not wanting to clean his car if not necessary.
"What´s going on in the lab?" Nick asked, knowing that keeping silent would only alert his friend that something´s amiss.
"You know, the usual. Sara kissed Hodges and Sanders got that girl from the lab he´s drooling over for the last two months." Warrick said, his tone all but serious. He waited for a grin to appear on Nick´s face, but the other CSI didn´t even listen to him. Warrick let out a sigh.
"Look Nick, I´m sorry for what happened-"
"Why? It wasn´t you messing up this time." Nick replied instantly and Warrick frowned at the tone.
"Yeah, I know. I am angry at him too..."
This time Nick looked at Warrick, surprised.
"What?"
Warrick blinked, assessing the tone of Nick´s voice with frown.
"Grissom, man. He shouldn´t have left you there all alone-"
"Just why the hell not!" Nick hissed and Warrick almost hit the back of another car - he looked at Nick, then back at the road. He slowed down, and found a place to park, turning off the engine.
"Okay, spill it. What´s the matter with you?"
"Nothing. I am fine. Why don´t you just ride?" Nick grumbled.
"I don´t want to get us killed. Come on, man. What´s going on in that thick head of yours?"
"I want to go home, ´Rick. I don´t feel up for a session with Mr. Favorite." His words stung and he knew that, but he really didn´t want to have this talk with Warrick, not here, not now. Maybe not ever.
Warrick clenched his teeth and was about to bit back some equally hurting words, when he realized that it wasn´t right. He thought about Nick´s behavior earlier in the hospital, and suddenly it made sense.
"You´re not mad at Grissom, huh?" Warrick asked, and watched as Nick looked away. "You´re angry at yourself. I just don´t get why. It could´ve been any one of us."
"But it was me," Nick said through clenched teeth. "And it´s always me, because I am always the stupid one. You know how many times it happened in the last year?" Nick showed three fingers in the air and shook his head, disgusted.
"Hendler, Crane and now this.. "I always stay behind and there´s always someone else to feel responsible. As if I couldn´t do my mistakes. Damn it, 'Rick, I am a grown man. Why the hell is everyone treating me like a stupid kid? I messed up the case, evidence was stolen. But it´s okay, because I always screw up. Why, I shouldn´t even wonder it took Grissom so long to let me investigate a case alone." Nick suddenly stopped, trying to catch his breath.
Warrick only watched him, surprised by the outburst. Nick shook his head and let out a deep sigh, wincing as his ribs protested.
"Everytime something happens, I-I never react how I should! And it´s really annoying, man." As if the speech robbed him of his energy, Nick wearily looked at Warrick, fearing to see disappointment or anger in his eyes. But there was only surprise and maybe a little understanding.
"Nick, what happened wasn´t your fault. Not now, not in the past. You hadn´t got a chance to defend yourself. And if you did - who´s to say you wouldn´t be dead right now?"
Nick gulped, unprepared for the question.
"Our job is hard as it is, Nick. We have to process scenes, see all the death. We´re here to deal with them, to try and find the culprit. Not to fight with them, but to bring them before the justice and prove them guilty with evidence. Not fists or guns. You´re a CSI - a good one. You help people with what you do - and you do it great. The rest is for the police."
Hearing those words meant a world to Nick. He felt partial relief that Warrick wasn´t blaming him, but he still needed to say something.
"I just don´t want to be the victim anymore."
There was no way to answer that and Warrick didn´t get the chance to try, because his phone rang. He shot Nick an apologetic look, which Nick repayed by a slight grin.
"Brown," Warrick said and listened for a moment, then turned at Nick.
"Yeah, Brass... I will be there, I just need to drive Nicky home." He finished the call and started the car.
"What´s up?"
Warrick hesitated.
"Come on, ´Rick. What´s going on?"
"We just caught the guy that attacked you. Brass and Grissom are about to start the interrogation."
Nick didn´t even think it through, when he said:
"I am coming with you."
"No way, man. You´re on medical leave and-"
"And I could probably identify him. Hey, I won´t meat with him - I just want to listen. No harm done."
"Then I´ll drive you straight home, okay? And I am staying there."
Nick was about to protest, but he thought better of it, and simply nodded.
Warrick sighed and turned the car back to the lab.
xxxx
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, folks. Hope this chapter was good enough for you, and that the case didn´t get too confusing. There will be more coming. Uh, this one was chapter was longer, because I don´t know when will I post the next one. I´ll try by Monday, but there´s some family issues I need to deal with first, so it can take a while. But I´ll be working on the update and post as soon as I can. Meanwhile, please review.