Chapter 2

"Oh man, I was so close," said Nick, standing in the break room with Warrick. They both had a mug of coffee in their hand, just passing time until shift started. "All the evidence was pointing towards him. But the DA wouldn't accept it. Said it was all circumstantial."

"Damn," said Warrick. "I hear you."

"Ever happened to you?"

"Yeah. A couple times, actually. Damn DAs can get in the way so much."

"Tell me about it." Nick sat down and picked up a magazine.

"Hey, guys," said Grissom, entering the break room, his crossword puzzle in hand.

"Hey, Gris," said Warrick, refilling his coffee mug. "What's up?"

"Shift started five minutes ago," replied Grissom. "And unless that magazine's got something to do with your case, Nick, I don't think Catherine'll be too pleased to see you reading it."

"I haven't got a case," said Nick. "Went cold yesterday."

"Catherine and I just wrapped ours up," said Warrick.

"Hey, Grissom?" said Sarah, walking up to him in the hallway.

"Hi, Sarah," greeted Grissom, turning around. He looked back at Nick and Warrick for a second. "I'll tell Catherine you guys need something to do."

"Gris, could I talk to you for a second? Alone?"

---

"You're sure that's exactly what the message said?" asked Grissom, ten minutes later in his office. Sarah had just finished explaining the threat she had received on her answering machine.

"I listened to it five times over, and wrote it down," said Sarah, producing a piece of paper with the message written on it.

Grissom took the paper and read it over. "Look, do you know anyone who has a grudge against CSI? "

"Besides everyone who's ever been in or is in state prison?"

Grissom was silent for a moment. "Sarah, I think this is probably just a bluff. There's a moth called the Polyphemus – it's got a pair of markings on its wings that look like eyes, deceiving predators into thinking it's dangerous. This could be just like that."

"If you'd heard it, you'd know. I really think this is serious."

"Alright, I don't have anybody to spare, but I'll talk to Catherine about it. She can get Nick and Warrick to look into it. They don't have anything to do. They'll have to go to your apartment to hear the message."

"Yeah. You know where it is, right?"

"I can find out."

"Okay, thanks." She pulled her key out of her pocket and put it down on Grissom's desk. With that, Sarah left the room and went off to find Greg. Grissom took off his glasses and stared at the floor for a moment, thinking hard. Who would have it in for CSI? Assuming, of course, this wasn't just a prank.

Grissom opened his laptop and went to the CSIs' profiles. He typed in 'Sidle' and waited. Barely a second later, Sarah's page had come up, and Grissom had scribbled down her address. He shut his computer, put his glasses back on, and walked out the door.

---

When she reached the break room, Catherine simply walked in and placed Sarah's address and key on the table (Grissom had delivered them to her along with the full story a few minutes earlier). "I heard you guys need something to do."

Nick took the notepaper that Catherine had put down and read it. "Whose address is this?"

"Sarah's. She got a threat from an unknown caller on her answering machine, saying that whoever it was is hunting CSI."

"Sounds like a hoax to me," said Warrick.

"Yeah, but not to Sarah, apparently. You guys need to go over there and see if you can trace the call."

"Sure." Warrick took his coat from the back of a chair and pulled it over his shoulders. "You've got a truck, right, Nick?"

"Yeah, I can get us there. Let's go."

---

Warrick inserted Sarah's gold key into her apartment door handle and turned it. There was a small click from inside and he opened the door with ease. He pulled the key out and he and Nick entered inside.

"Not too shabby," commented Warrick as he entered.

"Kind of small, though," said Nick, shutting the door behind him. "So, we're just supposed to listen to this threat and trace the call?"

"Guess so," said Warrick. "Not much else we can do." He strode over to the answering machine and pressed the button. The threat repeated itself.

"Hey, darling, hope you're getting this. I always think it's fairer if the game knows they're being hunted. Just know, and tell all your friends back at CSI, you're all marked down. Only a matter of time. I'm going to get you back. All of you."

"Well, he sounds convincing enough."

"D'you think it's real?" asked Nick.

"I dunno. Guy could be an actor. He might be used to doing a threatening sort of voice."

"But why would an actor target CSI? Do we know any?"

"Well, I don't, that's for sure."

"Neither do I. So how are we going to figure out where the call came from? Her machine doesn't have call display."

"She got the call at seven eighteen, right?"

"Right, I see where you're going. Just call up the operator and find out where the call to this apartment at seven eighteen last night came from."

"Exactly." Warrick picked up Sarah's cordless phone and held down the zero button.

"Operator."

"Hi, yes, could you please trace the call received at this apartment at seven eighteen last night?"

"One moment, please." A few seconds later, the female voice said, "The call came from 555-8669, the residence of Tony Sherman."

"Thank you," said Warrick, and hung up. "Tony Sherman, 555-8669."

"Should we call him up?"

"No, then he'll know we're on his trail. Check Sarah's phonebook, then we'll get his address and head back to CSI."

---

Warrick and Nick, accompanied by Captain Brass, walked up Tony Sherman's gravel driveway to his bungalow. His house was located in the Toiyabe forest, at the end of a road which led off the Toiyabe trail.

"Careful," said Brass. "If this guy's serious he might try and take us out."

"Yeah," said Warrick, "I'm ready."

"Man, who the hell lives all the way out here?" said Nick.

"Someone who doesn't want to get caught making threats to the government," said Brass. He reached the white wooden door and knocked on it loudly.

"Who's there?" came a voice from inside.

"Las Vegas Police," answered Brass. "We'd like to talk to you." A few moments later, the door opened and a black man in his mid twenties came into the doorframe.

"Hello, officer, how can I help you?" he asked.

"I'm Captain Jim Brass," he said. "This is Warrick Brown and Nick Stokes, Las Vegas Crime Lab. We're here to ask you a few questions."

"Shoot."

"Did you place a phone call to 555-7272 at about twenty after seven last night?" asked Nick.

"No, I was out to dinner with my fiancée. I've never heard of that number, anyway."

"Did you make any other phone calls last night?" said Warrick.

"My cell phone died on me half way to her house, so no."

"Can anyone confirm you were out last night?" asked Nick.

"Yeah, Liz could tell you all about it. My fiancée," he added, seeing the looks on Brass', Nick's, and Warrick's faces.

"Can we have her address?" asked Warrick.

"Yeah, certainly," said Tony. "It's room eighteen of the Tropicana."

"Thanks," said Nick, writing it down. "Does Liz have a last name?"

"Yeah, it's Liz Novia."

"Okay."

"So, did you notice any disturbances here yesterday?" asked Warrick.

"None at all. People don't come round that often, so I've got a pretty quiet life. Yesterday wasn't any different."

"Is there any damage to your house? Specifically, doors and windows?"

"No. Why, do you think someone broke into my house?"

"We have reason to believe so," said Nick.

"Well, if they did, they didn't steal anything. Nothing in here worth taking, anyway."

Brass was examining Tony's hands intently. "Hey, Mr Sherman, you wouldn't mind holding out your hands for us, would you? Palms up."

Tony put his hands out and flipped them over. The right palm was raw red and shiny. It was burned. Fresh.

"That's a nasty burn you've got there," said Warrick.

"Yeah, I made myself a pizza for dinner last night and put my hand down on the baking sheet."

"Bet that smarts," said Nick.

"Hey, listen, do you mind if we have a look around inside?" said Brass.

Tony's trusting and helpful expression turned to one of suspicion. "Why?"

"We'd just like to poke around a bit," said Brass. "We traced a threatening phone call to this residence, and we'd like to have a look at your phone."

Tony continued to look at the three men suspiciously.

"No, sorry," he said curtly. "Goodbye, officer." With that he shut the door.

"Well, did that look like a guilty conscience to you or what?" said Nick, as they walked back down the gravel driveway.

"He didn't sound anything like the voice on Sarah's machine," said Warrick. "I don't think we've got enough evidence to hold him."

"Maybe not to hold him," said Brass, "but we might be able to get a warrant."

"On the basis of a phone call?" said Nick. "Someone could have broken in to use the phone."

"No, I'm not talking about that," said Brass. "He lied to us. In the same five minutes, he told us that he'd gone out to dinner with his fiancée and that he'd made himself a pizza for dinner last night. He's covering something up. Add that to the threat from that residence, we should be able to get a warrant."

"Let's go sort it out," said Nick.