Hey everybody. Thanks for reviewing! Glad you like my story. Also glad everyone's so enthusiastic about having Archie as a CSI.
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B U Chapter 3 /B /U
A black CSI Tahoe rumbled into the parking lot of the Tropicana hotel. After spending about five minutes searching for an empty space, it pulled into one furthest away from the door. The engine died down, and from the vehicle disembarked Brass, Nick, and Warrick.
"Which room was it?" said Warrick, shutting the passenger door.
"Eighteen," said Brass. He pressed the rubber bottom on his remote and the truck lock with a small beep.
"Liz Novia," finished Nick. "We're not going to need our kits, are we?"
"No, we're just talking to her," said Brass. "We have to see if her fiancé's alibi checks out."
"Then we head back over to his place?" said Nick.
"Exactly," confirmed Brass.
Ten minutes later, they had reached Room Eighteen. Brass knocked on the wooden door. A few seconds later, it swung open to reveal an attractive Hispanic woman standing in the frame. She had dark, shoulder-length hair with almond-coloured streaks, and was wearing a blue tank-top and tight black shorts.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"I'm Captain Jim Brass, from the LVPD," said Brass.
"Nick Stokes, Warrick Brown, crime lab," said Nick.
"Can I help you with anything, officer?" she asked, then turned her eyes on Nick. "Or I you /I with anything?" she flirted. Nick simply smiled back.
"Hey, don't you have a fiancé?" asked Warrick, somewhat impatiently.
"Oh come on, Hendrix, I'm just kidding," she said friendlily.
"Yeah well, don't; crime's no joke," said Warrick.
"So, what's this all about?" she asked Brass.
"We'd like to ask you a couple questions about your fiancé, actually," said Brass.
"Sure."
"Okay. First question: did you and your fiancé go out for dinner together the night before last? Somewhere around 7.00?"
"Yeah, he picked me up at around ten after seven. I don't know what time he actually left, though. I'm not sure how long it takes to get from his place to here."
"Thanks. Second question: where did you lovebirds go?"
She uttered a little giggle at Brass's remark. "We went to the Buccaneer Bay Restaurant. It's a favourite of ours. We go there lots. I don't know how Tony manages to afford it all the time."
"Do you know what Tony does for a living?"
"Of course. He's a used car salesman."
"How often does he take you out to this place?"
"Around twice a week or so."
"Thanks. Might be seeing you later," said Brass, putting away his pen and notebook.
"I hope so," she said, giving Nick a coy look. She shut the door and the three men began to walk down the hallway.
"I like her," said Nick as they reached the elevator.
"That was obvious," said Warrick. "You couldn't take your eyes off her. She didn't seem to be able to take her eyes off I you /I , either. Kept glancing back at you the entire conversation."
"Man, what's wrong with you?" said Nick incredulously, as the doors opened, though it was clear. Warrick just couldn't stand that Nick seemed to attract so many women.
"Alright, stop fighting, children," said Brass, stepping between them. "Right, now we're going back to Tony Sherman's."
"His alibi checked out, though," said Warrick.
"Yes, but we have our warrant now," Brass pointed out, "so we can have a look at his phone. And he's obviously hiding something, if he lied to us about how he burned his hand."
"Right, good thought," said Nick.
With that, they all loaded into the Tahoe and drove off to Tony Sherman's house.
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I Knock knock /I . Brass rapped his knuckles on Tony's front door. As if on cue, the door flew open and there stood Tony, brandishing a baseball bat.
"Whoa, whoa, take it easy," said Brass, ducking in spite of him not actually taking a swing.
"Oh, it's you guys again," said Tony, lowering the bat. "What do you want?"
The cordial manner with which he had greeted them yesterday had completely vanished. He now looked upon them with a wary eye and a frown.
"Hey, Mr Sherman, we were wondering if we could possibly talk to you inside," said Nick.
"I told you no yesterday, and I'm telling you no again," said Tony. "Good afternoon."
Brass stuck his foot out so that Tony could not shut the door. "Well, that's too bad, because we have a warrant," he said, holding up the official sheet of paper. "We can do this here, or downtown." Tony snatched it from him and read it, before conceding defeat and opening the door wide. Brass, Warrick, and Nick all welcomed themselves in.
"Right, where shall we do this?" said Brass. "Living room looks good."
As they all walked towards the living room, Warrick sniffed at the air. Something smelled really funny in there...
Once they reached the living room, they all took separate seats (except Brass, who remained standing). Warrick and Nick sat on suede armchairs on either side of the sofa, and Tony sat down on the sofa himself.
"I'm going to cut to the chase, Mr Sherman," said Brass. "What are you hiding?"
Tony was dumbfounded. He said nothing.
"I'm not hiding anything," he said.
"Come on. You refused us entry twice. You don't refuse the police entry unless you're hiding something."
"What would I have to hide?"
"You tell me." He looked at Tony warningly for a few moments before saying, "Does anyone else use your phone?"
"No. I hardly ever have visitors."
"I'll print it," said Nick, getting up. "Where's the phone?"
Tony pointed to the kitchen. "Just don't make any long-distance calls."
Nick left.
"Hey, Mr Sherman, do you mind me asking what that smell is?" asked Warrick after a few seconds.
"I don't know what that is," said Tony. "It only started this morning."
"Smells like ammonia," said Warrick. "Did you spill any recently?"
At that moment, Nick returned. "Guys, you might want to see this."
Nick led Brass and Warrick into the kitchen, but instead of showing them the phone, led them down the hall to the left. The smell was getting stronger and stronger.
"Where are we – " started Warrick, but it was soon very clear. Nick opened the second door on the right in the hallway, and a blast of the headache-inducing odour greeted them from the entrance to the basement. Nick led them down the steps and they found out what was making the smell.
"A meth lab," said Brass. Workbenches lined the walls, the tops of which held all sorts of contraptions obviously devoted to making crystal meth. Nothing was switched on, but the smell still lingered.
"If we can't get him for stalking Sara, we can get him for this," said Warrick. Tony chose that moment to walk down into the basement behind them, and leaned up against the concrete wall in acceptance of his fate.
"Nick, d'you want to go finish printing the phone?" As Nick left, Brass turned to face Tony. "Well, Mr Sherman, stand up."
As though just not caring anymore, Tony stood and put his hands behind his back. Brass extracted a set of handcuffs from his coat and slapped them on Tony's wrists.
"Mr Sherman, you are under arrest."
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Back at CSI, Grissom sat in the break room, enjoying a nice lunch of Chinese food. He was flipping through an insect encyclopedia, reading up on the family I Hymenoptera /I . He had just turned to the page on the Thread-Waisted Wasp, when Nick and Warrick entered. They were carrying Subway bags.
"Hey, Gris," said Warrick, sitting down and opening his doggy bag.
"Hey guys," said Grissom. "What's the news?"
"Well, we haven't got Mr Sherman for stalking Sara," said Nick, "but we found a meth lab in his house. He's in lockup now. I also discovered a little bit of something in his phone, but there were no prints on it."
"What was it?"
"I think it's potato chip," said Nick. "I sent it to Hodges to see if he can get DNA off it."
"Good work," said Grissom. "Sara'll be pleased."
"Just don't let Sara get near the guy if we find him," said Warrick.