A/N: Just wanted to thank for all the reviews:-) and I hope you´ll like this chapter.

Deceptive Intentions

by Nicol Leoraine

Chapter 12

He was still smiling when he opened the door to the shop, but there his smile froze and he instinctively grabbed for his gun.

Nick tensed, his eyes scanning the shop, finally turning back to the pool of red between the shelves of canned dog food and corn flakes. There were several cans and some broken glass laying on the floor, all splattered in red. For a moment, Nick´s stomach churned at the sight, but he didn´t feel the coppery smell of the blood and that made him move closer, his gun still poised.

He looked around, trying to find someone - anyone, who worked in the shop, but it looked empty. He felt the goosebumps on his back as he knelt down, careful so as not to damage the evidence in case it was really needed. Now he was sure it wasn´t blood, because it was not the right texture or color. Sniffing in the air, Nick shook his head and snorted. Lucky there wasn´t anyone else, otherwise he would´ve made a pretty fool of himself. He put back his gun and stood up from the pool of ketchup mixed with tomato paste from the broken jar.

"Hello?" Nick shouted, thinking that perhaps whoever made that mess was trying to find something to clean it up with. But then he spotted the red print on the wall and this time he was sure it wasn´t ketchup. Nick gulped and pulled out his gun, this time slowly walking towards the shop counter. He glanced behind it, the gun ready for use. But there was no one. The case was closed and he could see the gun still on the inner side of the counter, just within reach of the cashier. Nick blinked inconfusion and turned, looking for some movement, listening for a sound. There wasn´t any, only his heart beating faster and faster. Keeping his back to the walls, he took his steps toward the door leading to the stockroom.

With each step, Nick´s breathing became harder and he felt the sweat trickling down his forehead. He knew this was absurd. He should just walk out and call the cops. But hell, he had enough of just standing behind, to let the bad guys run away. He wanted to do something right, to help the living, not the dead. He stepped into the stockroom and stood, frozen in place.

If he thought of the little puddle in the shop as a mess, he didn´t think so now. The stockroom looked as if it had been in the way of a hurricane. Nick remembered seeing the images from the inside of a shop after an earthquake and this was a similar view. True, the walls were still in one piece and the floor wasn´t at a weird angle, but everything else was. All the shelves were laying on the floor along with the material that was on them. And from beneath it all, there was a handsticking out.

"Oh God," Nick hissed, breaking through the shock. He fell to his knees and started pushing off the shelves, digging between the supplies and trying to find a pulse on that lonely hand. His fingers found the slight trembling and he hardened his effort, not caring about the evidence, about leaving his fingerprints everywhere. He just wanted to save the live of whoever was lying there.

Finally, pushing away the last of the shelves, he discovered the bloody and battered face. It was a young man, and even though he hadn´t seen him before, Nick knew who it was.

"Brandon?" he asked, touching the face, checking the pulse on the neck. The man moaned and it was the first sound Nick heard from him. Nick sighed out in relief.

"Brandon! Wake up. I need to know who did this to you."

No answer, not that Nick could´ve waited for one. Brandon looked almost dead, and if not for the pulse, he would already call the coroner, instead of the ambulance. But Brandon was still alive. Just like the person that did this to him.

While Nick called the ambullance, he carefully checked the boy. Hearing the raspy breaths, he knew the boy had probably broken a few ribs, one of them puncturing the lung. It would be easier for him to be sitting up a little, but Nick didn´t want to move him, from fear of aggravating his other injuries. So he just checked his airways and tried to wake him up, while he waited for the paramedics.

"Come on, Brandon. I need to know where Brenda is. Wake up," pleaded Nick, his hand laying on the battered face, as if to assure himself the boy was still alive. He didn´t hear the door opening, nor did he notice the surprised and rather angry yelp as someone discovered the mess in the shop. But he quickly swirled around and aimed his gun as aloud curse sounded behind him.

He met with the horrified stare of an older man. There was no gun in his hand and Nick relaxed a little, but he didn´t put down his own gun.

"Who are you?"

"D-dutch Jennigen. T-that´s my s-shop," the man stuttered, considerably paler every second. "T-take the money, just... l-lea-ve us," Jennigen said in a thick voice, and held his hands above his head. Nick blinked.

"What? No damn, I am not a thief!" he barked and lowered the gun. "I'm Nick Stokes, from the criminalists. I just wanted to talk with Brandon, but it looks like someone did it first."

The owner gulped, visibly relaxing when Nick wasn´t aiming at him anymore, but still scared.

"I-is he dead?" he asked, nodding at Brandon.

"No. But he´s bad. Do you know what happened?"

Jennigen shook his head.

"I was out for lunch."

"You don´t have any other employees?"

"Only Brenda, but... I don´t know where she is now. Did you... did you come because of her?"

"Yes. Look, I don´t have much time. Whoever did this to the boy, I think was after Brenda. Could he know where she is?"

Jennigen frowned, but ever so slowly, he gave a nod.

"He and Brenda were good friends. I think he´s in love with her, though she never reciprocated that feeling. But yeah, he would do anything for her."

Nick guessed so, seeing that Brandon lied to the cops for her sake.

"Where?"

"I don´t know, really," Jennigen shook his head.

"Does he have any place where he brings girls? An apartment? Is he living with his parents? Come on, you have to know at least something," Nick asked, getting more impatient with every passing minute.

"There is one place," Jennigen said, hesitantly and Nick looked at him.

"Where?"

xxxxxx

He knew he should´ve waited for the ambulance. Hell, Nick knew he would haveproblems just because he left the crime scene, plus, he didn´t stay there and wait for the cops. But these weren´t normal circumstances and Nick didn´t felt like waiting - on anyone. As soon as Jennigan told him the address, he left Brandon in his care with a warning that he shouldn´t allow any customers to get into the shop. Jennigan simply nodded and put out the Closed sign, then returned to the unconscious victim.

Nick rushed toward his car, turned on the ignition and stomped on the gas. It was a stupid thing to do, Nick realised, five minutes later. But one he needed. So driving as fast as he was allowed without being stopped by the cops, he was heading out of the city, only hoping that he wouldn´t be too late. He was a mile away from the shop when he realised he should call someone. He didn´t stop the car, nor did he slow down, but he knew that if he didn´t succeed, they would need to know what happened and where to look for him. So he put the phone into the car set and punched out the speed dial.

"Grissom? I think I need some help," Nick started.

"Where are you, Nick?" Grissom asked, sounding alert.

"I thought Brandon could help us. I went to the shop where Brenda worked, but I found it trashed. Someone beat the crap out of the boy, and I have a feeling it was Dummont. He was unconscious the whole time, I couldn´t get out of him where Brenda is, but the owner gave me an address. I'm on my way there."

"Wait!" Grissom all but shouted to the phone and Nick jerked. "What the hell are you doing Nick?"

"I am on my way there. If you want to help, Iadvise you get into the car and speed up, cause I don´t see Brenda has too much time. Or call the cops, I don´t care," Nick couldn´t believe he just spoke this way to Grissom, and apparrently Grissom couldn´t either.

"Stop the car, Nick. Gave me the address and stop that car, you understand?"

Nick gave him the address, but didn´t stop the car.

"It´s out of town, Gris. I'm already on my way. The cops won´t be quicker."

"I am not debating on this one, Nick," Grissom growled.

"Neither am I," Nick said and simply turned off his phone. "Neither am I," Nick repeated in whisper, knowing well enough there would be consquences. But he wasn´t afraid of them. As long as nobody elsegot killed today, he didn´t care about much more.

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A/N: Liked it? Hated it? Waiting for the next chapter? Next update at Monday, until then, your comments are very much welcome.