A/N: Again thanks to my betas – Fwe and Shea

Lins – Thanks! As my first reviewer, chapter two is dedicated to you!

Annibal - Glomps Anni Thanks for stopping by to read it! I hope I can reel you in with a couple more chapters!

Emmithar – You know it put a lot of pressure on me to have one of my favorite authors asking me to write more, I'll certainly try to keep you entertained ;)

Chrissy8 – As you wish – more!

Loozy – Since you asked so nicely here's another chapter!

Sins of Commission

Chapter 3 – Invisible Ties

Grissom was all business when they arrived at the complex. "Sara, you and Warrick take Greg's car. Nick, Catherine and I will do the apartment."

Greg's car was unlocked, parked in the assigned space. There wasn't much to check in it.

"I'm not finding any foreign hairs or fibers. You get anything?" Sara asked.

"Complete print on the roof and a partial palm on the top edge of the door." Warrick put the evidence in an envelope. "Did you check under the seat?"

"Got something." Sara said, pulling an oblong plastic object out from between the seats.

"What is it?"

"Ugly."

Warrick frowned. "Do you think you could give me a little better description than that?"

"I think it's a stun gun." Sara explained.

"Greg's?"

"Oh please." Sara laughed, "our Greg with a stun gun?"

"Right. 'Make no assumptions', as Grissom would say." Warrick held out an evidence bag and Sara dropped the gun in.

The apartment was clean and neat. In the living room, a large rack of CDs and DVDs took up most of one wall. There was a brown suede sofa and matching chair near

the entertainment center and on the other side, an aquarium.

Grissom watched the fish for a few minutes. He picked up a can of food and opened the top. A slender hand covered his, stopping him. Grissom turned to see a young girl beside him.

"It's my turn." Her voice was firm.

"Excuse me?"

"Today is Friday, it's my turn to feed Felix and Oscar." She explained.

"The fish?"

"Felix is an orange Lamprologus leleupi. Oscar is a black and white marbled Cyrtocara livingstoni."

"You're a very smart girl. My name is Gil Grissom, what's yours?"

"Rochelle Marcum." She sprinkled a few flakes on the water in the tank, then closed the lid and looked at Grissom, frowning. "Did something bad happen to Greg?"

"We don't know. Have you seen Greg, Rochelle?"

"Greg does laundry at 6:40 on Wednesdays," she said in a sing-song voice, "Takes out the garbage every night at nine."

"There you are Rochelle," Mrs. Marcum scolded, "I thought I told you not to come over here."

"I had to feed Felix and Oscar." Rochelle rolled her eyes. "They're hungry, no food since Monday."

"Officer, I'm very sorry, I told her to stay away but she's a stubborn girl sometimes."

"She's not a problem, Mrs. Marcum. In fact I think she might be able to help us."

"She'll probably be more of a hindrance than a help."

"Thank you Mrs. Marcum. Nick, would you take Mrs. Marcum to the kitchen please and interview her?"

"Sure Grissom."

"Rochelle how do you know Greg?"

"Greg is my brother."

"Not that Greg, Rochelle." Mrs. Marcum interrupted, "He means the Greg that lives here."

"Yes Mom." Rochelle smiled at Grissom and leaned close to him. "Want to know a secret?" she whispered.

"Yes."

"Greg can see me." She nodded.

He looked askance at her, "I don't think I understand what you mean Rochelle."

"Greg can see me, he talks to me." She frowned, "No one else does."

"Yes, now I understand." He nodded sympathetically, "Rochelle when was the last

time you saw Greg?"

"Monday, 7:52 a.m. Liquid silver, 2.5 litre engine Nissan Maxima, space 12, lot 4."

"You have an impressive memory for details."

"I like things."

"Did Greg go inside?"

"No, Greg was sleepy and his friend let him lay down in a red Yukon."

"His girlfriend?"

"No. That's Maggie Wilmer, 1226 West Lone Pine, 555-8962 drives a yellow 2002 Ford Mustang. It was a man friend."

"Do you know this man?"

"Nope." She picked up a white animal and began stroking it.

"What do you have there?" Grissom asked.

"My cat Princess. You can pet her if you want to."

Grissom stroked the synthetic fur, "She's very soft."

"I brush her and give her baths with baby wipes." She looked earnestly at Grissom, "Who will take care of Felix and Oscar? Greg will be sad if they die."

"Do you think your mom would let you come over and feed them?"

Rochelle shook her head. "Greg said on Friday it's my turn."

"Would your mom let you feed them every day until Greg gets back? Then you can go back to just Fridays." Grissom assured her, "Can you do that?"

Rochelle smiled, hugging the stuffed cat to the side of her face. "I will do a very good job taking care of Felix and Oscar, I will!"

Catherine was pleasantly surprised at how neat Greg kept his apartment. His bed was made, a few dirty clothes were in the hamper and the towels in the bathroom were hung on a rack behind the door. The bathroom vanity was cluttered with various hair styling products in odd shaped bottles and colors that boggled the mind. His closet was a riot of colorful shirts, idly she wondered where he got them from. But hey, this was Vegas, land of flashy duds after all.

In the kitchen she stepped around Nick and the landlady to open the refrigerator. She hoped that they didn't hear the laugh that bubbled up when she saw the only three items the unit contained. Catherine looked over the door and met Nick's eyes, apparently he had heard her and she grinned at his puzzled look, "Tell you later."

"Greg is a good boy, very quiet, no trouble at all." Mrs. Marcum continued. "He's watched Rochelle for me a couple of times."

"Rochelle?" Nick smiled. "Is that your little girl?"

Mrs. Marcum's laugh was short and humorless. "Rochelle is eighteen. Three years ago she and her brother were on their way home from a school dance when a drunk

driver hit them. My son Greg died and Rochelle's never been right in the head since."

"I'm very sorry Ma'am."

"Thank you. Anyway, Greg's a good tenant. I've never had any trouble from him, always pays his rent on time, no wild parties, his music gets a little loud sometimes," she smiled, "but boys will be boys and he always turns it down if someone complains."

"Yeah, he likes his music." Nick laughed, "He plays it loud at work sometimes too." Nick's expression was melancholy, he'd never admit it, but he missed Greg's music rattling the glass in the labs.