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: Still on my high from last night! Went to see Bon Jovi in Madison! Has to be the best concert I have ever seen! Thought I would share the love with a new chapter. This one is a lot of our odd ball case, but we get a new clue! Thanks for all the kind words on the last chapter. Mucho appreciated! Talk to you next time! Your love is like bad medicine….
Title: Poisonous Fear
By: duffshel
#7
Jim Brass was pissed off. The hysterical woman that found the car with the body was still crying and yelling about death and how cruel it all was. It was always something that working its way under the detective's skin and made him want to crawl away from it. He wished Sam would move her farther away from him and the car.
The body was sitting upright in the driver's seat of the car, the head tilted to the right slightly. There was no sign of red amongst the yellow paint covering the victim and parts of the car. The paramedics had opened the door to check to make sure the victim was dead. Brass knew as soon as he saw the body that it was. No one would just take a nap covered in that shit.
He stepped closer and took a good look at the body. It was a young man, age undeterminable with the paint. Brass didn't want to touch anything until Grissom showed up so he didn't go hunting for a wallet. Officer Kehls was working on the plates and model of the car to see if they could come up with anything that way.
The sound of a new vehicle on the scene made Jim turn. Catherine climbed out of the passenger side first and already had her camera and kit in hand. The senior CSI was a little slower in his exit from the SUV. But both were by Brass' side soon enough.
"So, anyone hate yellow as much as I do?"
Grissom quirked an eyebrow, "Yellow is said to be a soothing color. Many people associate it with happiness and joy since it is bright and vibrant."
"I would have to say this yellow looks like dog vomit to me, no sunshine here," Catherine stated.
The yellow wasn't one of the more attractive shades possible. It looked almost to have touches of brown and green tones throughout it. And the paint looked thick.
"Anyone disturb anything?"
"Paramedics opened the door and checked the vitals. Otherwise, no one."
The two CSI's moved forward. Catherine began taking her photos as Gil examined the open door of the car. The paint covered the entire inside of it. The body might have rested against it at one point. He pulled on his gloves and swiped a finger into the paint. It was thick. He couldn't decide what official color to even begin to call the mess.
Once Catherine got enough of the body in the car, Gil carefully removed the man and laid him out on the cement right by the door. He moved slightly so that Catherine could continue her snapshots. The man's eyes were closed, but his mouth was open slightly. Grissom worked an index finger in between the teeth and opened the lips wider. Yellow paint coated the tongue and teeth.
"I think we may have suffocation here."
Catherine stopped and looked down at her boss, "What?"
"There's paint in his mouth and nostrils."
"Weird."
The graying haired man nodded his head and continued to look at the body. There really wasn't much to see at that point. All of the paint had to go. Robbins was going to love this one. Grissom grabbed a swab and gathered up a sample of the paint for Hodges to process. He moved away and began to look over the car more closely.
As with the body, yellow covered the entire driver's seat and the bottom of the steering wheel. He would have to have to flatbed come and haul the car into the lab. This paint was going to have to be removed carefully to see if they could get anything about what happened.
David Phillips walked slowly over, pulling his gurney with him. He could see the yellow blob lying on the cement and was completely baffled. There was no way he was going to keep from losing any of it in transfer. He could only hope Gil and Catherine got everything they could for now.
"Hey, I am here for the pick up," he nodded to the two CSI's as he set his bag down. He pulled out his kit and began his initial scene work. The pen flew over the paper as he took his notes on temperatures and other observations.
Once the body was gone, Catherine walked back over to Grissom, "What are we going to do now?"
"There's nothing really here other than the car. I'll have it towed in and we can work on it there. Maybe I can get a hold of one of the guys as well. You get the truck set, I'll talk to Brass."
She watched the man walk away and sighed. Sleep was calling to her, but the day was in its peak now. Graveyard was full on day now.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
The morgue was once again the hot spot of the lab. Doc Robbins almost thought he should start a party service out of the room. Yellow paint was everywhere and he couldn't really say he was too upset about it. A little sunshine amongst the gray clouds was never a bad thing.
It had been easy on this body. The wallet with full identification and credit cards was found in the back pocket of the once blue jeans. Mr. Brett Mueller was only twenty three years old. He had drowned in yellow paint. The entire track of his respiratory system was coated, as well as his stomach. The man had been alive when he met his bright colored ending.
Grissom and Catherine were standing by the other steel table going through the man's property. The clothes were being searched for hair or fibers that didn't belong. Catherine was going through the papers they found in the main pocket of the wallet along with the cash. They were in their own world, away from Doc and Brett.
The needle entered the arm easily and the blood spilled into the vial. Mia was going to love having to pull more overtime to work on this new victim. A sample of the paint had already been dropped off with Hodges to determine if there was anything special to follow with it. Robbins smiled to himself. As weird as it was this last shift, he was looking forward to this new shift.
"I have the blood sample for you to send up. There really isn't much more for me to do unless you can think of something else. I have found no signs of trauma on the upper body, but there were some ligature marks on the wrists. I would say he was tied to keep from getting away. We know the COD and the time was about six hours ago."
Grissom lifted his head to look at the other man, "Not yet. Just don't release the body quite yet. We may need something else later."
The coroner nodded his head and grabbed his cane. He walked over to the phone and dialed the number for David. As strong as he was, he was not going to get Mr. Mueller into a cabinet without some help. The CSI's were too busy to bother with it.
"Hey Gil, take a look at these. I found them in the vic's wallet," Catherine called out.
The supervisor walked over and took the sheets of folded paper in his gloved hand. They were hand written, possibly by the deceased. One was nothing important that Grissom could see, some random numbers. Some were crossed out, others circled. The other had names and a phone number. It looked promising.
"What do you say about making a call?"
Catherine cocked her head in question, "Mine or yours?"
"My honors."
1!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Something was ringing. But what would possibly be ringing in the middle of the desert. Green eyes studied the sand trying to find the source. Warrick took a few steps forward and looked down upon a cactus. The green stalks sticking from the dry ground were shaking with each ring that rang through under the bright sun. He reached down and grabbed at one, but pulled his hand back as it bit into the flesh of his hand. The pain wasn't there and his blood shouldn't be pink. Sand swirled up around him and the ringing got louder.
Warrick jumped up and almost fell from the couch. His eyes were sore and had that crap from sleeping making them feel sticky. The ringing was his cell phone sitting on the wooden table. Moving in almost slow motion, he reached over and grabbed it up.
"Warrick," it was thick, like he had been smoking non-stop.
"It is about damn time you pick up! I have been calling you for awhile now. What is going on?"
Catherine's voice was in full mother mode over the phone and it made Warrick's head hurt a little more. His neck was sore enough as it was, he didn't need any more pain at the moment. He took a moment to collect himself before he made to answer the woman on the other end.
"Hey Cath. Sorry, I fell asleep and didn't hear the phone. I'm crashing on Nick's couch."
"How is he?"
"Broken wrist. Has the whole cast and sling thing going on."
"Shit. What did you tell Grissom?"
Warrick winced, "Nothing yet. I totally didn't think about it."
"Well, that one is all yours. We need you to head back in. I finally got a hold of Greg and he is on his way. Don't wake Nick. Keep him home."
"Easier said than done."
"Just do it. See you soon."
The phone went dead from the other end and Warrick flipped it shut. He stretched out his spine and sat fully upright. The townhouse was quiet so Nick still had to be asleep. Carefully, Warrick stood and found the shoes he had kicked off. Once he was put back together, he crept down the hallway to the bedroom. The floor creaked only once.
Nick looked like he had tried to roll over, but the pillows helped to hold him into place. The other man's face only held a little bit of tension. His brow was crinkled up slightly from pain, but he looked to be resting well. Warrick pulled the door shut as he turned to head to the bathroom. He was going to clean up a little before heading in. Nick was never upset when Warrick or Greg took advantage of his stuff before a new shift.
The water he splashed onto his face helped to wake him even more. He reached up into to the mirror and pulled open the door. Inside sat a toothbrush case. It was his. All three men kept toothbrushes at the other places just in case there would be a late game night or a night like this one. None of them were about having grimy teeth for god only knows how many more hours.
He quickly washed out his mouth and grabbed the spray deodorant. It was only a shame that he would have to wear the same clothes for the new shift. Everyone would think he had a hot date or something. At least Greg wouldn't give him shit for it for once.
His keys were where he left them. Everything was where it should be. The door closed quietly behind him and he walked quickly to his truck. He was probably being timed. A lecture was waiting for him. There always was one when you neglected to answer your phone on the first call.
Traffic was thankfully light and the trip was easy. The receptionist nodded a hello to him since she was busy trying to talk someone down over the phone. Day shift was currently running around, but Warrick ignored them all. He was used to coming in early enough to have to put up with them so it wasn't anything new.
Conrad Ecklie simply glanced at him when he passed the other man. Warrick didn't go out of his way to acknowledge him either. His main focus and goal was finding Catherine and Grissom. Loud footsteps behind him did cause his attention to get sidetracked for a minute.
Greg came running down the hallway right behind him. The new CSI stopped about a foot away and bent forward slightly trying to catch the breath he had lost in his dash. Warrick took in the red face and the heaving body.
"Did you run from home or something?"
"No…just from…my car. Didn't want…to be too…late," it was barely clear between gulps of air.
"So I take it you didn't answer your phone quickly either. We will get reamed out together then man. How bad could it be?"
The two began walking again and it was no time at all before they found themselves in the doorway for the large conference room. Warrick felt a slight chill run down his spine when the two leaning over the table turned to face the new arrivals. Their expressions were blank and unclear.
"It is nice of the two of you to finally join us. We have some big news."
Catherine remained quiet as she watched the two younger men squirm under Grissom's gaze. She never enjoyed it, but she knew it was better than just yelling. Grissom had a way of making you punish yourself so he never really had to. Not that he never did, it was just rare.
"Sorry, I crashed at Nick's and didn't hear my phone."
"He okay? What is the official verdict?" Catherine questioned at once, tone full of motherly concern, but so Grissom would hear as well.
Warrick rubbed his left hand down his face, "Broken bones in his left wrist. Cast with a sling. Doctor wants him out for a week. He was out cold when I left."
"Then we are one man short," Grissom took it in stride, "But let's not worry about that right now. We have a case to discuss."
Greg starred at the floor. He didn't know what to say. Guilt about not answering his phone was pulsing through his entire being and he never had the time to learn to block it down. It took a minute for him to realize Grissom was talking about what had happened since he had left to go visit Nick in the hospital.
"…We found him in his car. Doc confirmed that he drowned in the paint. The time of death places him on our timeline with the other victims. And right before you both arrived, I received the call from Mia. Blood was a match with the toxin. But it was what Catherine found in his wallet that was most interesting."
Catherine nodded her head, "I found some pieces of paper, one with a phone number. It appears that Mr. Mueller is part of some religious group called the Church of Gods, according to the message you get when calling the number."
"Brass is checking it out now as we speak. And Sam in looking into Mr. White's office as well. It seemed odd that his boss never called us back after the message we left so Vega decided to take a trip over there. We are simply waiting on calls from both of them."
"Do we know where the paint came from?"
"Hodges is still working on it as we speak. From the consistency, he believes it was mixed at home. But he will let us know as soon as he has something."
The four stood in silence for a minute. Their minds were wheeling about what might be going on. The only connection they had so far between all of their bazaar murders was the frog toxin. Warrick only hoped that something came down from the detective's searches. He jumped when a cell phone went off.
Grissom grabbed his, "Grissom…Jim, what did you get?"
Catherine rubbed her hands together in anticipation as she waited for her boss to fill them in. The few word answers were not enough to give her context to follow the conversation. Greg had taken a seat and was watching as well. Warrick still stood tall.
Once Grissom hung up the phone, he turned to face his team, "Well, Jim thinks we need to go have a look at this church. I'll drive."
No one dared to argue with their supervisor. They left in silence. Only sounds in the hallway were the rhythmic slapping of their shoes on the tiles.
TBC…