(disclaimers et all in first chapter)
Chapter Five
---------------------
The soft music in the elevator did nothing to alleviate the anger that wafted through the air in the tight space. Gil silently counted the floors without looking at the dial located on top of the doors, while Catherine stared straight ahead, observing his form through the reflective surface.
The doors opened and they both stepped off, coming face to face with another set of double-plated golden doors. Gil snapped on a pair of latex gloves and gently glided his hand across the sculptural engravings that stood proud, boasting fame and fortune. His fingers traced the lion's head before skirting across the eagle's face on the other side. "Both powerful symbols." He muttered to himself, afraid that if he spoke directly to her, she would either ignore him, or he would end up expressing another regretful thought.
Catherine bent down on one knee, her eyes squinting as she studied the bloody mark that was slightly camouflaged by the golden shine. "Hand print." She took out her camera and snapped a few pictures, her eyes already trailing up the door's splendour.
Gil tensed visibly as she braced a hand on his thigh, allowing her easier access to reach the awkwardly placed print. "Second print." She called out, snapping another picture. "...kind of a weird place to put your hand - " she stopped herself as her eyes fell on her own hand, still resting against him. She withdrew it quickly, exhaling an apology before chancing to meet his eyes.
Gil kept his eyes closed as he clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to calm himself down. Her touch had been unexpected, and he was already wound up that a mere pressure was enough to whisk control away.
Catherine let out a sigh, her eyes still assessing his reaction. She gently pushed him out of the way and allowed her hands to hover over both hand prints, one on each door. The irregular placement caused her body to bend, offering Gil an unobstructed view of her rear. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing his stare. "What are you thinking?"
He blinked away, letting out a controlled breath. "That I think whoever killed Samantha Hamilton had to catch their breath after doing so."
"Are you sure? Maybe the door was locked and they had to force their way in..." She offered, eyes challenging his.
"Look around - there's no forced entry. Besides, if you want to break down a door, you either kick it down or use your body weight." He stepped behind her, his arms going around each side of her until they mirrored her position. "Look at the hand prints, the body weight isn't distributed forwards, it's downwards. That position either leads me to believe that whoever was leaning against this door was either extremely tired or slightly injured."
Catherine straightened up, her back brushing against his chest. She closed her eyes as shallow staccato breaths emerged, trying to fight off the tingling sensations that occurred whenever his body was in close proximity. "Want to print it, or..." She asked tightly, breathing deeply through her nose.
Gil took a step back, thought more of it and took two extra steps away from her form. "You go ahead." He mumbled, his eyes automatically searching elsewhere to look. He glanced around him, noticing a smidgen of blood on the elevator button. "Cath, did you see any blood inside the elevator?"Gil called over his shoulder, as he busied himself opening his kit.
"Nope." Catherine finished retrieving a copy of the first hand print and moved on to the second. "Why?"
"Blood on the button here, which proves my theory that this was post murder."
She rolled her eyes, hissing under her breath. "Always have to be right."
Gil jerked his head up and turned it, glaring at her back. After taking a picture, he labelled the print he snagged, and filed it in his kit. "I'm guessing the killer must have wiped his hands on his clothes, before punching the lobby button." Using the end of a pencil, he managed to press the elevator buttons without touching the blood. He observed the edge of the doors, looking for fibres or hairs, or anything else that might have gotten caught. "Tweezers." Spying a green fibre, loosely attached to the side of the door, he held out his hand absently, all the while keeping an eye on the item. "Cath, you yourself insinuated on a professional environment, so would you kindly stop brooding and just hand me the damn tweezers?"
She bit her lip, ire burning bright and rising up to flush her cheeks. Digging in his kit, she extracted the tweezers and slapped them into his hand, turning immediately away from him.
He cringed slightly, but kept his eye on the green string. After plucking it, he placed it in a small bag and held it up to the light. "A sweater, or a wool hat maybe?"
Catherine shrugged and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "Whatever the hell it is, can we go in now?" She watched him pack up his kit and join her in front of the doors. Watching him examine both handles, she sighed aloud, wanting to get this day over with. Being away from him was always a painful endeavour as her yearning thoughts did nothing to alleviate the stress on her heart, but their current friendship, seemingly destroyed, caused and even more painful stab.
Still crouched down, he gently opened the door, letting it softly swing open. He watched as she pushed her way through, his eyes on her form as she approached the crime's scene. He glanced from her to the dead body, the uncommon positioning grabbing his attention. "This too seems awkward." He pushed himself up, observing the body over her shoulder.
"Please Gil, everything about this has been awkward."
His eyes snapped to hers, knowing that their strained friendship was underlined in said passage. He sighed and placed his kit down beside the body, while his eyes took in the lavish environment in which she lived. The entrance was large, opening up to a grand living room complete with billiard table as well as a wide-screen LCD television mounted on to the wall. The white plush carpeting blanketed the whole floor, stopping only at the entrance of the kitchen that was located to the left. Gil's eyes travelled up the carpeted staircase and he tilted his head back, looking up at the open-air second level, noticing the rope-like fence that sealed off the edge. "All the things you could possibly want, yet don't need."
"Well if you have the means..."
"...or access to someone else's means..." Gil added, his eyes briefly meeting hers.
She pressed her lips together as a sarcastic smile drew upon her lips. "Nice." She paused, eyes disbelievingly taken in his form. "You're sizing me up to her, aren't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." He succumbed to her intimidation and he averted his gaze elsewhere, bending down beside the body and observing her on a superficial level.
"I'm her, in your eyes...aren't I?" Catherine pushed, aghast at the underlining meaning in his words. "I might as well be lying here - "
" - Catherine, that's enough!" Gil yelled, confronting her over the body that lay deathly still between them. This time, he didn't cower under her stare, but met it with a warning of his own, hoping that ire would mask the fear that her words spawned.
Teeth clenched, lips sealed, Catherine breathed deeply through her nose, not willing to back off from any truths that might be revealed. "Daddy is well off, why should she feel guilty for taking a gift offered - one that could help secure her and her daughter financially?"
"Samantha didn't have a daughter." Gil countered reasonably, though understanding where her frustrations were stemming from.
"But she still has needs." Catherine argued, her voice raising in matching increments as her body temperature did. "At least she was out there, meeting people and living a little -"
" - until one of those people came and took away that life she wanted so desperately to live!"
"Well I think that it's better to live and die than be alive without living." She walked to foot of the body, watching as he followed her movements. "You may be walking around and breathing, but you're dead on the inside." She gritted out, eyes shining with emotion she fought hard to keep at bay.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to play off the hurtful words as a moment's ire, but somewhere deep inside feared that her words were laced with a truth she kept hidden throughout their friendship. His eyes fell to her left shoulder and he stared intently at the red stain that seconds ago had not been present. Reaching his gloved hand over, he dabbed his finger and brought it close to his face. Digit still close to his face, he glanced back to her shoulder where another drop of the red liquid had presented itself. His eyes slowly drifted upwards, glancing at the ceiling. His mouth opened slightly as he saw an arm, hanging down, courtesy of gravity's pull and a hole in the second storey's floor. Blood dripped off the hand's fingertips, and another splattered against Catherine's shoulder.
She glanced over at her shoulder, her brow furrowing with confusion. Just as she was about to comment, a large crack was heard in the wooden roofing above, causing her gaze to snap upwards, as the wood began to splinter and cave in. The last thing she saw was the fear in Gil's eyes before she was jerked forward, as wood and furniture came careening down from above.
–TBC–