Summary: Strange events in the form of murder leave nothing, but trouble and confusion. Nick and Warrick are pulled into a world they were not ready for. It threatens not only their lives, but their sanity.
Disclaimer: This is all written in fun and trial for something new. Everything CSI is not mine and never will be. It belongs to the creative talent of the actors, the writers, the directors, and producers. I am not making any money off of this. Only meant to offer something new on something already so great. No reason to sue.
Author's Note: Hey, hey! Can we just say wow for last night's episode! But Nicky! Not liking that thing on your upper lip! Some scruff would be fine, but that thing just makes him look funny, and older. Maybe it is just me! But anyways, here is a new addition to my little tale. Hope you enjoy. Things are building nicely I think. Can't wait to show you all where it is going. But, well, give me a little more time for that to happen. Thanks for sticking it out with me! Have a great weekend all!
Title: Poisonous Fear
By: duffshel
#4
The three kids were nervous. Both the taller boys kept shifting from foot to foot as they stood in the hallway. Their parents were being held in another room to get papers filled and signed. An officer as squatting down in front of them and informing them about what was going on. Once their parents got through to the new room, they would all be interviewed about what happened and what they saw.
Nick leaned back against the wall as he took in the scene. He had been assigned to do the interviews with Vega by Grissom. The senior CSI thought it would be best for him to talk with the kids since the younger population didn't seem afraid of the Texan. Nick hadn't informed the older man that it wasn't a matter of fear, but of patience and compassion.
There was commotion over at the entrance way and several names shouted out in a thick, Mexican accent. Nick turned to see Vega trying to herd the parents in the hallway without a big fuss, but the mothers all took off running for their child as soon as they saw them. The fathers were more composed, but even they walked quickly to their families.
Sam Vega shook his head and walked over to Nick, offering him his hand, "Hey. You get to do this with me?"
"Yeah. Do you think we should take them all in at once or split them up?"
"It might be best to keep them together for now. We can talk with each one separately if we need something cleared up. I don't want them freezing up on us in the room."
Nick nodded and walked into the interviewing room. There would be enough room for everyone to fit. He wanted to stand anyways. Vega usually did as well during this sort of thing. He stayed quiet and studied the kids as they were brought into the room. Only one parent was allowed in with them. Two fathers and one mother walked in and sat beside their child.
"My name is Sam Vega and this is CSI Nick Stokes. We are going to ask you a few questions about what happened tonight. But first I would like to confirm who is who."
The detective flipped through several papers he was holding and pulled out a single sheet with blocks of information on it. He turned to the first boy. This one was tall and lanky with a dark mop of hair on his head. His clothes were old and the jeans had several holes in them. The sneakers looked to be brand new, but Nick couldn't see what the brand was on them.
"You are…Roberto Molina Sanchez, correct? Age twelve."
The boy addressed nodded and at a prod from his father, he replied, "Yes sir."
"And you are Carlos Cruz-Venzula? Age eleven" this time addressing a short, pudgy boy with cropped black hair. This boy was nicely dressed in what almost looked like a school uniform. His shoes were black and shiny.
"Yes sir, that is me. And this is my mother, Rebecca."
Vega didn't bother addressing the mother, but gave her a nod of acknowledgement. He wanted to get to the questions, "And last, but not least, you are Miguel Johnson? Only eight?"
This boy was quiet and didn't even bothering looking up. His eyes were blank under the bangs of light brown hair. The red t-shit was crumbled and he wore jean shorts. His left knee was scrapped up and there were many scars littering his legs.
"Okay, good. Now, I would like all of you to answer to the best of your abilities. Don't hold anything back. We need to know what happened and how you came across the victim."
The detective nodded to Nick and the Texan took a deep breath, "Hey guys. I want to just start with all of you telling me what you doing at that park at that hour."
None of the boys jumped out with an answer. They exchanged looks with each other and shifted repeatedly within their chairs. Nick breathed slow and calm. He kept his face neutral. This was not going to be easy.
"Were you walking home or to someone's house? How about skating after hours?"
Carlos looked up at those questions, "No, we weren't skating. We cut through the park to get home. It was late and we didn't think there would be any cops around."
"Where were you coming from?"
"Um…we were at a friend's house."
"That late at night? Why didn't you have someone drive you?"
"No one owns a car from our hood, a'right. We didn't do anything, this is not us," Roberto spoke loudly as he moved to the front of his seat, "We just poor Mexican kids and we were out having fun. No one to get us home after it so we walked. The park is safe. Never had issues before. Body just come up out of no wheres man."
Vega looked over the sheets in his hands again. Once he found one he likes, he passed it on to Nick. Sure enough, two of the kids lived two streets away from the skating park, the other, about four. They probably cut through it to get to school as well since it was on the other side of the thing.
Miguel's father coughed to gain attention, "Are the kids at fault for anything Mr. Stokes? If they are, I would appreciate being told so. I would need my lawyer at that point."
Nick looked over at the taller man. The white skin was tanned, whether by booth or lotion Nick couldn't tell. His blonde hair was light and shaggy. Mr. Johnson was a couple sized bigger than Nick as well. He knew his rights. He was going to cause trouble if something were to continue on with the kids.
"That will be unnecessary sir. I just needed to know that your children came across the body in the park and didn't do anything with it."
Carlos shook his head quickly, "No, no. We didn't touch it. Miguel made us call from the pay phone in the park. He said we couldn't leave the person there with no one coming to get it. I called 911 and we waited."
"So Miguel, what made you think to call the police?"
The quiet boy slowly looked up and met Nick's eyes. His voice was timid and quiet. Nothing like his father standing over him, looking madder by the second. Neither of the other parents were saying a thing. Nick felt bad for thinking it, but he had a feeling they might not know English well enough to follow the entire conversation.
"My grandmamma always tells me to get help for others when they need it. Not to be like others that come from the South and ignore people in need. Get whatever possible."
Nick smiled at the boy, "That is good advice. She is a wise woman. And I was wondering, what happened to your leg Miguel?"
"Fell, at school. I was playing soccer," it was whispered.
The CSI took a deep breath and looked up at Vega. It was late and these kids needed to get to home and into bed. The detective nodded and stepped forward once again.
"We are going to let all of you go home now, but I would like everyone to stay home throughout the day. We might need to get a hold of all of you again and ask a few more questions. Thank you for all of this and I apologize for getting you all out of bed to come down here."
Vega stood at the doorway as the kids and their parents filtered out of the room. Nick rubbed his forehead and let his thoughts wonder. There wouldn't be much from any of these kids. They just happened to come across a body in a park. He felt bad that they were allowed to be in that situation in the first place. But that wasn't his job. That was someone's place to take care of.
"The kids didn't see anything. We don't have much more than we did before."
"Nope. Guess we are going to have to hope we get enough from the evidence to put something together. I highly doubt anyone saw anything with this. From what I hear, the parking lot is on the opposite side as all the houses. No one would be sitting at their windows anyways."
Sam smiled and grabbed Nick's shoulder, "I think I like the positive Stokes better."
"Yeah…me too."
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Catherine sat at her desk, the phone next to the stack of papers she was looking through. Grissom had been kind enough to give her Nick's work on the White case while he went off to talk with the three kids.
She was trying to figure out where Mr. White could possible be. It was confirmed that it was Sherie White in the house. Her husband should know why, but Brass couldn't find anything on the man. There was a trace out on his car and his credit cards, but nothing was coming up. There were still a few officers searching the city, but it seemed to be pointless at that point.
There was no reason for murdering his wife that was jumping out at the blonde woman as she scanned through the information she had managed to get a hold of on him. He was an accountant and made most of the income. The house was primarily under his name and he was the sole name on both cars they owned. Sherie White didn't seem to have anything he would want. His death was worth more in insurance as well,
A message was left for the man's boss so that when the firm opened for the day, it should be played right away. Catherine had given her cell number as the contact name. Someone from his job might know of something going on. They might know where he was hiding.
Hodges had filled her in on the igniter fluid used in the murder, but there would be no way to track the bottles. The database gave over ten thousand stores that sell that brand. Mr. White could have even been holding onto it for sometime waiting for the right moment to use it. It was a dead-end.
The photos of the tracks and treads from around the house were interesting. Greg was currently working on identifying the possible vehicles that could have been used. It was possible that the husband would have called in help for this. He could have gotten a couple of friends together and came in someone else's truck or van to the house. From the amount of foot tracks, as few as three people to as many as seven were possible.
It was the damn frog toxin that kept messing up any leads she produced in her head. It was odd that an accountant would know enough about exotic frogs to keep one at a poisonous level. And the extraction of the toxins was not an easy task to achieve. One would have to stress the frog and the gather the poison that it leaked out through its skin. It was tedious and hard work to do.
Her head was beginning to hurt to extreme levels. They needed to find the husband. Nothing was left at the house. It had been swept and nothing turned up. Clothes were destroyed, all personal products melted; even the television was nothing more than a black pile. She and Grissom had found nothing on their second run though. Something was not clicking.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Brass and Vega sat together in the department break room. Both detectives were stretched out to new limits. Nothing was coming up on either of their searches. The dog owners were all compliant and allowed the officers and vet to look at the animals, even at such an odd times at night. Everyone wanted to have their pets cleared from the label of murderer. None were missing a tooth or hair clumps. And as for the burning house owner, missing.
"There are days that I really hate this job. I swear, something is against us tonight."
Sam looked over at his colleague, "What makes you say that Jim?"
Brass dropped both his hands hard on the wooden table, "We have had some weird shit in our days, but this is new for me. I mean, damn, poison from frogs, house fires, and dog mauling? Makes me glad I no longer do work for CSI."
"What do you think is going on with all of this?"
"I'm unsure. I mean, the husband is the main suspect with his wife, but why would he kill the boy as well? There is no reason for anything like that."
Sam Vega took a sip of his coffee he held in his right hand. It was getting cold and the taste was bitter. He was glad that Jim was the other detective on this case. The older man knew his stuff and worked well with the entire CSI team. Sam was becoming good friends with most of them, but he was no where near the other cop.
"So Jim, what do you suggest we do from this point? We can have cops checking over this entire city, but I think we have hit a dead end. I talked with the kids that found the boy, but none of them saw anything with the actual drop. They just happened to be in the wrong place. And you have nothing from that house."
"Nope. We have nothing other than the bodies. Let us just hope that…."
The cell phone ringing broke both men's thoughts and conversation. Brass looked stunned at the intrusion and took a moment to reach for the small machine. His hands fumbled with it for a moment as he flipped it open and raised the antenna.
"Brass."
Vega watched the frown lines grow deeper and more pronounced. The younger man would have never thought such a frown was possible. His face would never be able to pull it off. But he kept his face neutral and uninterested as Brass snapped his phone shut with a growl.
"Well, Mr. White is accounted for."
"I would have thought that was good news."
"It would have been if the man had been found alive."
TBC…people just can't seem to stay alive, now can they!