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: It's snowing! Man, I love that stuff! Oh yeah…fan fiction…new chapter! Wanted to get something out since it will be Tues otherwise. Didn't want to hold out on y'all too long. Hope this one answers some of those questions I know everyone seems to have. We are getting to the good stuff now. Enough of the case file…let's get to the stuff I know you all want! Starts now! Let's go for a ride! Until Tues people! Adios!
Title: Poisonous Fear
By: duffshel
#14
The body of the Mexican woman was lying face down on the off white tile of the kitchen. Greg coughed to cover the choking that rose up in his throat. The newer CSI had seen plenty of blood since he started at Level 1, but this was a lot, all in one place. Catherine looked like she was right at home, but he had a feeling he was looking kind of green.
David Phillips had arrived almost the same time they did since the paramedics had called in an examiner when they were leaving. The man was currently kneeling by the body, trying to avoid as much of the blood as possible. It was spattered everywhere. Greg could have sworn there was some on the ceiling.
"Catherine, what should we start with?"
The supervising CSI looked at her partner, "Pictures, pictures, and some more pictures. We need to document everything and where everything is located. And then swab down all the samples. Need to make sure that no one else bled here."
Greg nodded and reached into his kit for the camera waiting for him. He never would have thought he would ever use one as much as he had the best few months. His mother had always said he could never take a clear picture, it was always fuzzy. But this job was like photography magic. Greg learned more about the lenses, the films, densities, and settings than he ever wanted to.
"Catherine, I have to say the body fell in this position. None of the blood seems smeared, just dropped. And the way her upper body is compared to the lower, no one touched her."
She nodded at the announcement from David, "Any preliminary cause of death?"
"Well, without moving the body and disturbing everything, I cannot be sure. But with this amount of blood and where it is pooling the most, throat slashed, and possible stabbing in chest. I'll make sure once you give me the go."
The man stepped back out of the way and let Greg get in to get some pictures of the position of Mrs. Johnson. David could tell by looking at the coloring of her skin and the way the blood was still wet in many areas, the woman had not been dead long. He would learn more back in his office.
Catherine got to work quickly on swabbing the blood around the body. She wanted to make sure David would be able to get his work done swiftly and as accurately as possible. This murder was connected to the others, Catherine could taste it. If they could get something from this one, they might be able to fill in the holes they had.
"Okay David. I'm done here," Catherine moved away from the body to allow the man to work.
Flashes of light filled the room as Greg collected his pictures of all the blood and its spatters. From the positioning of the stronger spatters, Catherine could tell the slash was made from left to right. She walked carefully and placed herself where she thought Mrs. Johnson had been standing when she was murdered. It would fit if that was determined to be cause of death.
Officer Kehls stood in the doorway to the backyard and looked out towards the desolate landscape. The air inside was too much and he asked to be placed out back. He could hear the others talking behind him, but didn't dare to turn around. The wheels of the gurney told him the body was leaving to its latest appointment along with Phillips. This was not the reason he wanted this job. But it wasn't these thoughts keeping him so jumpy either. Something about that man at the station was still driving him nuts.
"Hey Catherine, I may have a partial footprint here. Looks to be leading outside, over by Andrew."
Upon hearing his name, Kehls automatically turned to face Greg, "Sorry, should I move?"
"Nah, just tell me where you have walked and if anything looked odd to you," Greg walked over to the slightly taller man.
"I only walked along the edge of the house and stopped once I got here. I might have shifted around once I was here, but I didn't touch any of the areas right off the cement."
Greg nodded and took some pictures of the ground right outside the door. Nothing caught his eyes, but he would go over it later with a fine toothed comb. It the killer or killers left through this doorway and took the kid with them, something would be off. He could only hope he could find drag marks like the ones back at the White's house.
"Thanks Andrew. I'll take a look at all of this in a little bit. Need to finish up helping Catherine inside."
The officer nodded his head and tried to hold himself as still as possible. But as predicted, once he started making a conscious effort to hold still, his body began to sway more and more. He had to get his mind off of his feet. Kehls immediately went back to thinking about the man in the station. Then, as if someone struck him, it came. He had interviewed the man outside the White's house when it was on fire. It was the classic case of worried neighbor. Andrew wanted to slap himself in the forehead.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Grissom tried to get a hold of Nick once again, but the other man didn't seem to know how to answer his phone any more. He held in his slight anger as he walked into the police station. Detective Vega had asked him to come in to work with Mr. Brain Dubois since Catherine and Greg headed over to the Johnson household.
He held the results of the paint tests that Hodges had in his hand. It was enough to get a warrant and do a full search of the house if Mr. Dubois decided he didn't feel like talking. The meeting was to take place in room two and he stopped at the doorway to observe the man inside.
Dubois was sitting slouched over in his chair, his eyes locked on something he found interesting in the table top. His large hands were clasped together in his lap. Grissom could tell that the man would stand over him if they stood side by side. The man was screaming guilt and worry.
Vega was already in the room when the door opened to reveal the CSI. The man in front of him had said nothing to him the entire time and ignored all his questions. Something Vega had always prided himself in was his patience with suspects, but this guy was beginning to grade on his nerves big time. He only hoped Grissom had something to help get the man to talk.
"Mr. Brian Dubois, this is CSI Gil Grissom and he will be sitting in on our discussion," Sam then turned to address Grissom, "He has declined counsel. His lawyer friend is away on vacation."
"Alright. I just want to get right to the point. Mr. Dubois, the paint found in and around your pool is consistent with the paint one Mr. Brett Mueller was drowned in. You have anything to say about that?"
Dubois took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Sweat broke out all over his face and he began to work his hands together. This was way over his head and he didn't have to ability to work out of the hole he was now in. Not even his master would be able to help in this situation.
"He…died in my pool. It's where the paint was dumped to kill him."
"Why?"
"They ordered it."
Grissom's eyebrow rose at those words, "They? Someone else told you to do it?"
"I didn't actually do it. I was just the one with the pool. They did the work, brought the paint after they mixed it. It was determined Brett was to be sacrificed for our cause. He needed to relive his fears."
"Who are these people?"
"Friends. People like me. People with respect for things that people have forgotten they needed to respect. It will get everyone before too long. No one is safe," the man began to rock back and forth, "That is why Veronica is next."
Vega moved to the edge of the table, "How do you know about that?"
The man shrugged, "It's what happens. No one is to help or speak to outsiders when it comes to our work. It is forbidden."
"Mr. Dubois, who are you working with? What is your work," Grissom asked softly.
It was already too much though. Dubois began to shake and his head whipped from side to side. He was not going to give them any more. It was complete silence for him for the rest of his days. There was no way he was going to let them get him. He didn't want to die by his greatest fear.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
The only thing he enjoyed about working in the lab, it was easier to get out on time than when working out in the field. Mia had everything under control and a few more hours to put in so she told Warrick to take off. She could tell how much the man wanted to check on Nick anyways.
Warrick practically ran to his truck and dropped his keys twice as he tried to work the door open. He climbed in, slapped his belt on, and started the ignition. The traffic shouldn't be too bad at this hour. It should only take fifteen minutes to make it to Nick's townhouse. Then he could yell.
There was only one car that made his blood boil and the lights played nice for once. Nick's SUV was sitting all the way up in the driveway. Warrick pulled his up behind it and got out. As he headed to the door, he noticed there were two newspapers on the mat. He scooped them both up and rang the doorbell.
"Come on man. Open the damn door."
After almost a full minute, Warrick used the key Nick had given him and let himself into the house. There was no noise, the television was off. Warrick couldn't make out anything as he walked into the living room. The main rooms were clear so he headed to down the hallway.
The bedroom door was closed. He only hesitated for a heart beat before he turned the knob and opened the door. Nick was sitting on the floor by the bed, completely asleep. His head was tilted back at an odd angle and his right leg was tucked under his body. Warrick cringed at the sight and felt pity for how he knew the Texan was going to feel when he woke.
With a deep breath and a small smile, Warrick knelt next to his friend and put his hand on Nick's shoulder. The other man didn't even shift. Warrick had a feeling he had taken some of his pills and wouldn't be waking on his own. He stood and stretched his back out slightly. It didn't take much before he had Nick onto of the bed, legs out straight.
Warrick looked around the room and frowned. Dirty clothes were thrown all over the floor, a shoe was on top of the dresser, and his CSI identification was sticking out from under the bed. This was not normal for the other man. It had always been a joke between the two that Nick was too neat and tidy. This was not a good sign.
The taller man walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. It looked a little better than the bedroom, but there were still plenty of damp towels bunched up around the small room. And it looked like Nick couldn't remember how to clean out his sink any more.
"Shit man. What are you trying to do here?"
And now that he actually looked, the kitchen looked the worst. There were plates with dried up food on them, the sink was filled with all sorts of dishes, and something living on the stove. It gave Warrick a slight chill. Well, since Nick was sleeping and Warrick had nothing else to do at that moment, he bent down and reached under the sink. The cleaning supplies looked welcoming.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Conrad Ecklie sat in his office and was signing off on a bunch of files that the day staff had finished up on last shift. Graveyard was still on the odd murders happening and it just came to his attention that they acquired another one. It was getting to be too much. Day shift was not as well off as the night and they were beginning to suffer because of it. Not that he would mention of word of it to Gil Grissom.
Several of the day CSI's had come to his office complaining of the lack of interest the other shift was showing in other cases around the lab. They took what they wanted and left everything else for the others to figure out. It was not right and Conrad should do something about it. But in all honesty, he didn't want to pull any of the graveyard off their mess. It would result in disaster.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on the door, "Come in."
A beautiful blonde haired woman opened the door and shyly let herself in, "Are you Conrad Ecklie, director of the CSI lab?"
"That would be me. How can I help you?"
"I am here from the mayor's office. He is concerned about the spending on the law enforcement for the next term and is looking into all areas of the security department. I am here to look over you staffing needs and evaluate the usage of your personal."
Conrad frowned, "I wasn't informed about this check."
"Well, the mayor was worried that if people were informed about it, then they would have a chance to hide anything that wouldn't look good. We need to know exactly what is going on, good and bad," the smile was sweet and flirtatious.
"What are you going to need from me?"
"I need access to personal files and all evaluations, as well as pay roll information. I need to make sure everyone that works here is qualified for their job and their pay."
Conrad sat taller in his seat, "This means people could be fired or get a pay cut?"
"Not likely. The lab is vital to law enforcement, the mayor knows this. It would be unfair of use to investigate the police station and not the lab. Most of the cuts will be made to the other group most likely. This will only take me a few hours and I will be on my way."
"Of course," Ecklie nodded, "I'll just need to see your identification so I can get you a pass filled out so you have access."
The woman smiled and pulled out a small wallet from her purse. She handed over the plastic card with her picture and the mayor's symbol. Ms. Sharon Walker was only twenty six. Ecklie quickly filled out the forms needed and handed everything she would need back to her.
"If you would follow me, I'll take you to filing and personal. You will have full access there."
They both walked down the hallways, no one even looked at them. Ecklie showed her to a large room with filed cabinets and one large table, "Personal is on the left, pay roll on the right. If you have any questions, Mrs. Swallow is right outside. This is her area and she will know anything you might need. Have a nice day and I hope you look kindly upon my department."
Ms. Walker smiled sweetly again and waited until the older man left. Once he was gone and the door closed, she opened the black briefcase she had and took out the supplies she would need. After a glance around the room, she noticed the copy machine. She placed the camera and the recorder on the table and walked over to the personal cabinets.
Everyone was alphabetized by their last name it seemed. She went straight for the names asked for: Brown, Grissom, and Stokes. All three men had fairly large files and Ms. Walker shuffled through them quickly. It wasn't until she reached the last file that a large, genuine smile reached her eyes. She would have enough and would not have to worry about letting her master down.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
There was an odd noise in his house. Nick couldn't place anything to the sound, but it was one he knew he shouldn't be hearing at that moment. He pulled himself from his deep sleep and stared at his ceiling as he tried to get his bearings back. Those pills sure knocked him on his ass. Maybe he should stop taking so many at once.
Someone was in his house. He knew he hadn't left the television on when he went to bed and for sure the vacuum cleaner had still been in his closet. Nick groaned as he got out of bed, hugging his arm cast close to his chest. He felt around underneath his feet for the baseball bat he knew was under the bed. It was the one his father had given him when he was twelve and it had many home runs indented within its wooden body.
Once the sturdy weight was in his good hand, Nick walked out into his hallway. Whoever was in his house was in the living room. His mind was still too foggy on the pain killing drugs for his arm that it didn't register that a killer wouldn't vacuum his carpet before killing him. All he knew was someone was in his house and he didn't know who.
Nick walked slowly, back pressed against the wall as he went. The light on the front of the cleaner was visible, whoever was here was facing in his direction. Nick hide the bat along side his leg and walked out into the open.
"Warrick? What the hell?"
"Nice to see you too, man," the taller man turned off the cleaner and released it.
"Why are you vacuuming my living room?"
Warrick chuckled, "Your place was getting kinda gross, bro. And I was bored waiting for you to wake up so I thought I would kill everything you were letting set up residence in here. Your thanks is appreciated."
Nick took a deep breath and walked over to his couch. He had forgotten about that bat in his hand when he saw his best friend in his living room. It clanked as he set it on the coffee table. His arm was sore and he wished for his sling.
"What's with the bat? Going to home run my head or something?"
"I didn't know who was in my house. Sorry."
"Eh, no biggie. I'd have grabbed a gun first though," Warrick sat next to the Texan, "So, any plans for the day? No one can get a hold of you. Everyone is worried."
Nick rubbed at his face, "I turned off my cell. Didn't want to talk to anyone. Been sleeping too much, I think. All I have been doing since I have been sent home by Grissom."
It was not easy to miss, the depression and sadness in Nick's voice. Warrick didn't like hearing it and didn't really know how to get rid of it. He knew he might make it worst if he didn't think about what he said first.
"Well, since I'm stuck in the lab, I have a few more hours than normal. We could go to a movie or something?"
"No man, I don't want to take away thing from your down time. The case is a tough one and you need to be fresh. Why don't you just head home? I can finish what you started."
"Nah, too far a drive. I'll just take over your bed," Warrick got off the couch before Nick could say a word, "Cleaning supplies are out on the counter. I want to see my face in the tile when you're done!"
Nick simply sat with his mouth open as he watched Warrick walk down the hallway and into his bedroom. The other man shut the door and Nick could hear the lock being turned. He snorted to himself as he shook his head and looked around the room. Warrick had gotten a good start on the mess he had been slowly making. He would start later. Right now, he needed to get something to eat.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
The black cloak hung nicely on the hook by the door. His body ached and his head was pounding. This job was getting to be too much for him. There would need to be more to succeed him in the future. More training would be needed, at a younger age.
"Master?"
One of his followers was waiting for him, next to the window, "What is it Sharon?"
The petite woman with white blonde hair shifted her feet causing the fabric of her dress to swish with her. He recognized the fearful look in her eyes. Most had it when they were in his office, well, if they knew him that was. That cop had showed nothing, but disrespect in this room. He would soon learn like all the rest.
"Sir, we have the information you have requested. I printed it up and put it in that folder on your desk."
Sure enough, there was a yellow folder in the center of his desk. It looked to be thick with papers. He reached out with one shaky hand and opened it to look at the top paper. It contained three photographs of three different men. Two of them he had seen before, the third was a new one.
"These are the three men that Veronica talked about?"
"Yes and no, sir. Grissom is the lead CSI for the lab, he was here the day the cops came, but Veronica never met him. Her husband talked about him. And the black man is Brown. He went to her house with the other one, the new one."
"And the new one?"
Sharon smiled, "The cute one? He is the Texas CSI. It seems he has been suspended right now and has a broken arm. Such a pity. That would be the reason he wasn't here that day."
"We have enough?"
"Yeah, we should. Once we have them, we should learn more so it is effective. Use them against the other."
He nodded and sat in his chair. Some of the wrinkles disappeared when he tried to smile. People within the group were always easy to get rid of. It was the people outside their world that were a challenge. And these three law men would be the biggest they had ever faced. If they were successful in breaking each of them, their gods would be very pleased. Then they could go after the rest.
TBC…raise your hand if you think Ecklie made a mistake...(jumps up and down, hand high in the air)...