Chapter 18
Greg stared, unable to think of what to do or say next. David was dead? How was that possible? And...Roger did it? How as that possible? The man was not a killer - three times, he had failed in killing someone because of his meek nature. Could fear and desperation be motive enough to turn him? Or was it something else? Or...was he not the culprit?
Sara frowned at Greg's expression. "Hello!" she called, waving a hand in front of his face. "David's dead. Aren't you happy? I've wanted to do something about that bastard for a while, and hey, the deed's done already."
"But Roger's going to get the blame for it!" Greg gasped, finding his voice. "Possibly even the death penalty."
"Yeah, well, serves him right for killing his brother," Sara said slowly. "Although I would've done it, too."
"Wait," Greg said, covering his face with a hand. "You're not saying you honestly believe Roger is the one who did it?"
"Come on, Greg," she scoffed. "Who else would it be? All the immediate evidence points to him. He was the only one there. He's got motive. Victim. Suspect. Crime Scene." She counted off the last three on her fingers.
In doing this, Greg realized that she was right. Who else could have done it? That guard wouldn't let anyone in to see them, let alone murder one of them. And Roger has all the motive in the world. For years, as he put it, he had been the victim of his brother's unceasing rage. But now, he had turned the tables - David was the victim. The only thing he couldn't quite put his finger on was how Roger got the weapon. The police hadn't found the murder weapon yet, and there certainly wasn't a lot of space to hide it in. So...was there a possibility he was innocent?
"Hang on," said Greg, smiling. "You said- crime scene."
Sara nodded. "Yeah."
"So..." Greg continued as though this were very obvious. "Is someone working the scene? You know...collecting evidence and such."
Sara realized where he was going with this, and shook her head. "No way, Greg. You wouldn't be allowed. You're not even a CSI yet, don't even think about taking this case-"
"I'm not," answered Greg slyly. "I know I'm not allowed to work the scene...but you are."
"I can't just go process a random crime scene, Greg!" Sara cried, outraged. "Especially a case that I was involved with!"
"Have Grissom process it with you," said Greg. "He won't say no. I'm sure of it."
That was a ridiculous request, and they both knew it. Processing a crime scene where there was cold, clear evidence that Roger did it was just plain desperate. Greg didn't even know if he believed it himself, just sure that he didn't want to believe that the man he had helped in court - after all he had done to him - would kill his brother. No, he wouldn't believe that! It couldn't be! But a someone was nagging at the back of his mind, a voice that sounded kind of like Grissom's. "People lie," it said. "The evidence doesn't."
"We haven't actually found any evidence," said Greg, obeying the voice. "All we have is a testimony."
"You don't need evidence, Greg, all you need is a sense of logic!" cried Sara. "Two men in a locked room, one of them ends up murdered. It's obvious to even someone in grade school who the culprit is!"
"But it wasn't a locked room," said Greg, taking out his cell phone to call Grissom. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing or why he was doing it. Selfish reasons, probably. But it was automatic and in a slight panic, and so he didn't want to stop himself. If he was wrong about this, the lab might not let him live it down, but if he was right...he would be praised for all eternity.
"It was a locked room, Greg," said Sara, annoyed, as she tried to take away the cell phone and stop him before he made a fool of himself.
"But there weren't only two people in it!" he cried suddenly, and dialed the number. He smiled. That had to be the answer. He knew who it wasn't; so who else could it be? He lowered his voice and hissed, "The cop!"
"The cop," Sara repeated monotonously. "The cop. Of course, the cop! The cop did it! Are you insane?" She had been being sarcastic and her tone changed drastically during the last sentence. "The cop did it? Think of what you're saying!" Greg shushed her, pressing his ear to the earpiece of the phone. She continued talking to him a low whisper as he waited for their boss to answer. "You're letting Roger get to your head. So he didn't kill you. Guess what? He didn't kill me either! But what reason did he have to kill us, he barely knew us? This is a man who had been abusing him for years, hell, for all we know, his whole life! Wouldn't you kill him?"
"This isn't about me or you," lied Greg. "This is about Roger. Do you want him to die?"
"He's going to die even with your consent!" said Sara. "You can't let yourself get attached like this!"
"Look who's talking!" Greg snapped back. Oops. He took a step back, and hung up. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean that. You're right. It's bad for the case to get attached."
"No," muttered Sara. "You're right. I have no right telling you not to get attached. But-" she added, "-you should think about it first, then take action. Give it time."
Time. It was something they had very little of, and yet Sara suggested he use it to think about things. During the time he was thinking, a man's life could be put to an early end. But...maybe it was supposed to be that way. As the day wore on and Greg went back to his job, the idea that he was wrong began to dwell on him. With every new case brought before him, every DNA sample he checked out, it brought him to realize that this DNA evidence could be all over the crime scene, that it probably was all over the crime scene. By the end of the day, and with all the talk around him that Roger was guilty, he thought the same. He knew in his heart from the beginning that he wasn't innocent this time, but his guilty conscience had overridden it.
At the break, Greg walked out of the building (his cell phone safely in his pocket) to find Nick and Warrick standing outside a black SUV, Warrick's car. They waved as he passed, and he waved back, wondering why the hell they were standing out in the heat.
"Locked out?" Greg called across the parking lot.
"Naw, we were waiting for you," said Nick. "We're supposed to invite you along on our case."
"Oh?" he said, only slightly interested. "Where are you going?"
"You might be familiar with it," said Warrick, smiling. "You were there three times this week. And here's a hint: it's not 711."
"What?" asked Greg. They were taking the case at the courthouse? "It's a waste of time."
"Well, we're taking the case," said Nick. "And there's nothing you can do to stop us."