Chapter Four
Working the shift and a half really did keep Nick's mind occupied, and he was even seen laughing with Warrick and Greg in the halls of the lab. He caught a few hours of decent sleep without the aid of a sleep agent and woke around eleven, actually feeling refreshed. The past few days had passed without incident, and no one was talking about it, and Nick was immensely grateful that this wasn't throwing him completely out of whack. He had put the flashlight away, not giving more than another minute of thought to what may or may not be in his attic.
Nick checked his watch. He was due in court at one, so he was going to have to rush to pick up his suit and make it to the courthouse in time.
Gil was not good at the paperwork part of the supervisor job, almost as bad as he was at the political part. He favored the field work, the science. Paper was not his forte.
Gil sighed and pushed the stack of files away. There would be plenty of time to finish it later. The sound of thudding footsteps drew his eyes up and he looked to the door to his office. He actually sat back in his chair as Nick barreled into the office, as he rushed right up to Gil's desk and laid his palms on the desktop.
"Nick, what – "
"It's him, Grissom. Crane. He's doing it again," Nick said in a rush, his voice low but slightly crazed.
Gil's mouth hung open. Nick's eyes were wide and his face seemed paler than normal. "Nick, slow down, what are you – "
"My dry cleaning, Gris. I went to pick up my suit for court today and it's gone, they gave it to some guy, it's him, Gris." Nick was talking a mile a minute. He straightened and began to pace in front of Gil's desk.
Gil slowly stood himself. He remembered the first time around, when Crane had started picking up Nick's clothes from the dry cleaners and wearing them. Nick's words were putting him on edge but it was his demeanor that was actually starting to frighten him.
Nick was still walking frantically back and forth in front of Gil's desk. It was a completely different Nick than the man who'd been in the lab just the day before.
"It's him, Gris," Nick whispered.
Gil reached out and placed a hand on Nick's arm. The man startled and jumped just enough to be concerning and paused in his pacing.
"Nick, calm down. It's not him. It's just a mix-up."
Nick laughed lightly and shook his head. He looked like there was something more he was going to say but was interrupted by a ring from the phone on Gil's desk.
Keeping an eye on Nick, Gil brought the receiver up to his ear. "Grissom. Yes, actually he is. He's right here." Gil held out the phone to Nick. "You have a call on line four," he said.
Nick swallowed unnecessarily and grasped the phone. "This is Nick Stokes," he said after pressing the button for the line.
Gil watched as Nick's face took on a confused expression, and then one that was slightly relieved.
"Okay, great. Thanks." His tone was anything but grateful, was embarrassed. He handed the phone back to Gil and started moving backwards, towards the door.
"Nick?"
Nick swallowed again and avoided making eye contact. "It was the, uh, the dry cleaners. Guy brought back the suit, got it by mistake." Nick continued to back out of the office. "Sorry, Gris. I'm sorry."
Gil began to shake his head, opened his mouth to tell him that there was no reason to be, but Nick was already gone.
Shadows in the night were easy to hide in. Shadows in the day were a challenge, but he still knew how to work them. He'd found a perfectly secluded spot around the corner of the deli from which he could clearly see the entrance to the dry cleaners. He had it timed perfectly, as well.
He brought the suit back in, and God, it had been hard to keep from laughing. And he waited. They would call Nick, and then he would come. He had to be in court at one, after all. He'd had Nick's schedule committed to memory for days.
Nigel smiled.
There he was. So predictable. The SUV pulled into the spot closest to the glass doors and Nick hopped out. He didn't remove his sunglasses as he went in the door, a sign that he was either embarrassed or unsure of himself, or both.
He had done that, had been the one to cause that look. And it wasn't even hard.
For the next few days, every time Nick saw Gil in the hallway of the crime lab he would either walk past quickly with his head down, avoiding eye contact, or simply turn and go back from where he came from. Gil hadn't even had the chance to talk to him.
Gil hadn't told anyone about Nick's near freak-out over the dry cleaning mix-up. He figured Nick wouldn't appreciate everyone focusing their attention on him, constantly inquiring as to how he was doing, if he needed anything…that was the last thing that Nick needed right now. It didn't stop people from doing it, but it was a less often occurrence than if the events of the other day were public knowledge. Nick just needed to get his head on right and relax. What he really needed was a day where no one would pay any attention to him, and he wasn't going to get that this day.
Knowing how Nick was still coming in unnecessarily early every day, the team had to gather in the break room extra early to beat him there for a little surprise birthday gathering they were sure he already knew about. Every year, for every one of them, they did the same thing. It was always a thoughtful and appreciated gesture, but no one was surprised anymore.
Nick held up the colorful tee and suppressed a laugh. It was definitely not a shirt that he would ever pick out for himself.
"Well…thanks, Greg," he said. He stuffed the shirt quickly back into the box.
Warrick and Sara laughed good-naturedly and even Greg cracked a smile. Gil sat back in the corner of the room and took a sip from his coffee cup. It was nice to see everyone laughing. No one had said the words "Nigel Crane" in a few days, and though he knew that the whole thing was still bothering Nick, the younger man was doing a good job hiding it. Distractions such as this were helping a lot.
Sara shook her head and started cleaning up the ripped pieces of wrapping paper that littered the table. "You're getting so old," she said in a joking tone.
Nick smiled. "Yeah, laugh it up. You're right behind me."
A light knock on the open door made everyone look up. The front desk receptionist stood there, smiling uneasily as six sets of eyes stared at her. It certainly wasn't their break room, but when the team was gathered, it sure seemed that way to others in the lab.
She held out a small, wrapped box. "This came to the front desk for you, Nick."
Nick gave her an easy grin and went over to take the gift. He thanked her and returned to the table. He studied the box, which wasn't small but wasn't necessarily large, and frowned.
"What is it?" Warrick asked, jerking his head towards the present.
Nick shrugged. "There's no tag."
Greg smirked. "Ooh. Secret admirer."
Nick rolled his eyes. "Nah, I doubt that."
"Well, open it," Catherine smiled and bumped him with her elbow.
Gil saw Nick's eyes flicker his way; it was like he was asking for permission, but didn't wait for any show of acknowledgement from his boss. He ripped open the paper along the side and balled it up, tossing it at Sara without looking at her. She glared and stuffed the wad of paper into the trash bag she was still holding.
Gil frowned at Nick's reaction as he stared into the box. It was as if he'd lost the ability to make any kind of facial expression. His face fell completely slack and his eyes were unblinking. One at a time, the others in the room noticed his somewhat vacant stare as well.
Catherine was watching his face with a frown matching Gil's own, and Sara had started coming around from the other side of the table.
"What's up?" Warrick asked, frowning and leaning over the tabletop.
Nick didn't seem to hear him, and Gil was growing concerned, especially when Nick's rate of breathing increased. He leaned forward in his chair and put down his coffee cup. He could have been moving more quickly, maybe should have been, but his instinct was to study whatever specimen may be before him.
Catherine reached out a hand to Nick's arm. "Nick?"
Judging from his reaction to her touch, you would think her fingers had shocked him. He jumped and the box fell from his hands, thudding to the table. Out of the open top rolled a plain white coffee mug, nearly identical to the one the Gil had just placed in front of him.
Nick continued to stare at the cup while the others in the room exchanged confused looks.
"I don't get it," Greg said slowly.
That was when Gil noticed the slip of paper that had fallen out with the cup. He reached out and picked it up, his hand passing through Nick's line of sight, seeming to snap him out of it. Nick looked up, not meeting the eyes of anyone else in the room, and shook his head.
Gil turned his attention to the piece of paper in his hands. I know you're short one...Happy Birthday. He had to agree with Greg; he didn't get it, either.
"Nick?" he asked. "What is this?"
Nick shook his head again. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and shaky. "A few days ago, I broke a coffee cup." He looked around at them. "I was home. Alone." He looked back down.
Gil laid the paper out on the table.
"Nick…" Catherine frowned.
This time, when Nick looked up, he was angry, his face set. "Print it," he said.
Warrick made to say something, but Nick didn't give him the chance. "Print the damned cup," he gritted out.
Catherine was closest, using a piece of wrapping paper to keep her fingers from touching the surface of the mug. She hurriedly left the room, Greg leaving with her, and Nick sunk into his chair. Sara sat down next to him and rubbed his shoulder. He visibly tensed at the touch.
Warrick shook his head. "It's not him, man."
"Then what is it?" Nick asked, practically yelling. "What is that about?" He gestured to the paper Gil was studying. "Who would know that?"
The last question was asked in a much quieter tone, and no one left in the room had an answer for him.
Catherine rushed straight to Jacqui's workstation and thrust the coffee cup at her.
Jacqui looked up at the two wide-eyed CSIs and sat back in her chair. "What's going on, guys?"
Catherine didn't know what to say. She just held the cup out. Thank God for Greg, because he seemed to be much calmer.
"We need to see if there are any prints on this cup, Jacqui," Catherine heard him say from somewhere on her left.
Jacqui took the cup and started to set it aside. "I'll get to it when I can, guys, but I've got a ton of stuff to print for Swing…they've really got a hell of a case – "
"Jacqui." Catherine had to dig deep down inside herself to find her voice. "Please."
There was something in her tone that concerned the lab tech. Jacqui immediately pushed aside what she was working on and examined the cup. "I'll get it back to you as soon as I can," she said.
"Thank you," both Catherine and Greg said.
The two CSIs started back for the break room. Catherine was anxious to get back to Nick, but Greg seemed to be lagging behind. She turned and glanced back at him.
Greg stopped walking and crossed his arms. "Do you think…" it was as if he couldn't even voice the concerns they were all having.
Catherine shook her head. "I want to say 'no,' but…"
Greg nodded in understanding. He shook his head and stared at his feet. "God, the guy can't even catch a break on his birth – "
He was cut off by yells coming from the break room. They exchanged looks and rushed down the hall, coming to a sudden stop in the doorway.
"This is bullshit, Grissom!"
Nick was yelling at Grissom, who was holding his cell phone to his ear. Sara had a hand on his arm, trying to calm him, and Warrick was staring at Grissom with an expression much like Nick's.
"He's positive?" Warrick asked angrily.
Grissom nodded his head calmly. "Brass had someone sitting on the apartment all day, Nick. He never left."
"It was him!" Nick yelled and slammed his hand onto the table. They all watched him.
"Thanks, Jim," Grissom said and closed his phone. "He's going to go over there right now and talk to him, okay?"
Nick laughed uneasily. "Yeah, yeah, this is all okay."
"Nicky, why don't you take the rest of night off? You're not going to be able to work like this."
Nick looked over at Catherine as she spoke. His face retained its angry expression for just a moment before fading away, his shoulders sagging. He simply shrugged, and looked away.
Catherine knew it wasn't something he really wanted to do, but Nick wasn't going to be able to concentrate on any case this worked up. Besides, they could work on this easier without him in the lab, as well.
Nick started to say something, and Catherine knew what he was going to say before he spoke. Thankfully, so did Warrick.
"You don't have to go home, man. Tina's off tonight, you can stay at our place, if you want."
Nick nodded after a moment. "Okay. Thanks."
"You want me to drive you?"
"No. Nah, I think I can handle that." It wasn't said sarcastically, but flatly. Nick looked around at the forgotten pile of gifts. He rubbed his face and gestured to the table. "Thanks for this, guys." It seemed hollow, now.
Everyone nodded and Sara gave him a quick half-hug.
"I'll call Tina and tell her that you're on your way over," Warrick said.
Nick nodded.
"We'll figure this out," Grissom said.
Again, Nick nodded, but it was half-hearted, like he didn't believe him. He left the room a few minutes later, looking somewhat lost, and the rest of the CSIs were left staring at each other.
The hidden microphones were really starting to pay off. So much so that he didn't even mind how expensive they'd been. He still had some money saved up from before his little hospital stay, and had already blown nearly all of it in only a few days.
It was worth it.
"You don't have to go home, man. Tina's off tonight, you can stay at our place, if you want."
That was all Nigel needed to know. In his ventures the past few days, he had seen the Brown house, the recently acquired Mrs. Warrick Brown. She wasn't a tall woman, and would be easy to subdue.
It wouldn't be long, now.
To be continued...