Oh wow, I haven't updated this story in forever. I am so sorry you guys. I was suffering from a major bout of writer's block, and y'all know how that can be. Anyways, I am totally sorry about taking so long to update. I hope this chapter was worth the wait.

Chapter Three

"And this is all the evidence you've collected so far?" Meg asked as she surveyed the items littering the table.

"This is everything." Nick assured her.

"There's no DNA off the scarf?" She asked, picking up the bagged item.

"None." The CSI shook his head.

"Any DNA at all, aside from the vic's?"

"There was a vaginal contribution," said a tall, black man who had just entered the room. "It was from a hooker. I questioned her earlier and right now she's not a prime suspect."

"You must be Warrick." She said. The man nodded. "I'm Agent Meg Sawyer, I was assigned to this case by the FBI."

"It's nice to meet you." Warrick shook her hand.

"Same here." She smiled. "So," she turned back to the evidence, "this really is everything."

"Yep." Nick sighed.

"It doesn't seem right. Every criminal, even the best ones, leave some trace of themselves behind. It's like an instinct."

"How is that?" Warrick asked.

"Subconsciously, all criminals want to be caught. So, they leave small clues behind without even knowing it."

"And just how do you know all this?" Warrick asked, leaning against the table.

"My dad was profiler for the FBI. That's beside the point though." She shook her head. "What I'm trying to tell you, is that there is something hidden here that you just haven't seen yet. Has anybody gone back to look over the scene?"

"Greg and Sara went earlier." Nick said, "I think they just got back."

"Alrighty then," Meg started towards the door, "let's go see if they found anything."

"Nothing," Greg sighed as he leaned back in a chair and propped his feet up on the table that sat in front of him, "we went over that place twice and still nothing." He looked at Sara. His female companion was engrossed in a file full of photographs that he and Grissom had taken the first time at the crime scene.

"I don't get it." She said after a few moments. Looking at Greg confused, she shut the file, "I just don't get what we're missing."

"May I see those photographs?" A distinctly feminine voice sounded from the doorway. Greg looked up, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the beauty in front of him. Her smile was gentle and sweet as her eyes met his.

"Who's your friend, Nick?" Sara asked the CSI standing just behind the unfamiliar woman.

"This is Meg Sawyer. She's the agent the FBI assigned to work the case with us." Nick said.

"Nice to meet you." Sara nodded her head in greeting. Greg could tell that she wasn't exactly too happy about someone else coming in to work the case. Sara often times got very territorial over cases she was working on. And Greg sensed that she didn't want Agent Sawyer working with them.

Reaching for the file that the man handed her, Meg flipped it open and studied the photos there. The scene was familiar: Dead body, no weapon, a polka-dotted scarf around the eyes. That was the killer's first signature: the scarf. Always the same. Yellow and pink. The second signature was, of course, the ice.

Meg flipped through the pictures, her eyes taking in every detail. She knew what to expect. The murders were always the same. Victim tied to the bed, stripped to their underwear, a scarf tied around their eyes.

Her mind flew to the other victims of the Ice Assassin. There were two men and two women. Each with absolutely nothing to hide. Each with nobody who would so much as wish a cold upon them. So why, then, had somebody killed them?

"But why Daddy?" Meg cried, climbing into her father's lap. "Why would someone want to kill Mommy?" The look in her father's eyes made her tears come faster, harder.

"I don't know, Meg." He shook his head sadly. "I don't know." She looked at him, her large ten-year-old eyes pleading with him to answer her questions in a way that would give her closure and make her understand her mother's murder.

"But this is what you do, Daddy. You find out why people are killed."

"There are just some things no one can understand." He seemed so distant that it scared Meg. Her father was never like this. He was always happy and smiling and teasing her. He didn't pull on her pigtails anymore, he didn't joke with her about school and how all the boys would be falling all over her one day. He wasn't Daddy anymore.

She placed a small arm around his neck and hugged him close. He broke down in tears, gently putting her away from him in his grief. They were both so alike, but opposite in this one way. Meg needed company in her sorrow, she needed comforting. But not Daddy. No, Daddy would rather be alone to cry. She felt hurt knowing that there was nothing she could do to help him.

If only Mommy hadn't died, hadn't been murdered. Why had someone wanted to kill her anyway? She had done nothing wrong. She had only ever cared about all those she came in contact with. So why had someone wanted her dead?

"What?" Meg's eyes snapped up from the photos and her mind moved back to the present. She hadn't anticipated that memory popping up all of a sudden. Why had it come back? She had put that part of her life so far back in her memory that she couldn't have recalled it even if she had wanted to.

"I said, Grissom wants to see you in his office." Nick repeated.

"Oh, okay." With a small smile, Meg placed the file back on the table and headed out of the room.

Returning to her small apartment, she sighed. Another day over with. She had made contact with her newest assignment and was off to a good start in befriending them. Guilt engulfed her. She hated this way of life. She hated the hold that he had over her. Oh how she wished she'd never even met him. Then her life wouldn't be so damn screwed up.

Placing her purse on the small kitchen table, she set about fixing herself a cup of coffee. As the pungent aroma filled the apartment, she remembered all her other assignments.

They'd all been nice people. The very first guy, Todd, had been an architect with a large contracting firm. He had been one of the sweetest guys she'd ever known. And he had been so handsome. His eyes had been such a killer blue that she had often times found herself simply getting lost in his gaze. He had fallen in love with her, and she had felt sick to her stomach when she first plunged the cold icicle into his heart. After leaving their hotel room, she had driven to a gas station not far away and vomited in the dirty, dingy toilet.

Mindy had been her next assignment. An out of work actress in Manhattan who had been renting the second bedroom in her apartment for some extra cash. It had been an easy in, and she had taken it. They developed a friendship, a risky thing to do in her line of work. They had shared an apartment for three months before she finally killed her.

After Mindy there was Lauren. A bartender in Chicago, whose lover had just recently left her. Lauren had been an easy target with her broken heart. Searching for someone to comfort her, she had swooped in and been that comforting shoulder. Only after a few weeks did Lauren trust her enough to divulge the fact that she was a lesbian. That had been bonus number two. They started to see each other, falling into an easy relationship. She had been a bit hesitant at first to enter into a lesbian relationship, but he kept reminding her that this was the job. The night that Lauren asked her to move in with her, that was the night she died.

Alan was a personal trainer in Dayton, Ohio. And, he had been her fourth victim. He was a widower with two kids: twins, a boy and a girl. There names, were Sasha and Holden. They were six-years-old at the time. Alan had just begun to start dating again, and she had been his second attempt at a relationship since his wife's death. The kids loved her, and easily accepted her. And it wasn't too long before Alan was falling for her too. She'd killed him the night he purposed.

The latest victim had been John, a finical advisor to small businesses. He had been shy, geeky, and uncomfortable around women. She called him up, pretending she wanted to open her own bookstore and needed his help. She'd made sure to express her attraction to him and draw him out of his shell enough to ask her out. They dated, and she taught him how to be more confident of himself. She had taken him under her wing so far that he no longer was shy and was comfortable, to the point of arrogance, around women. The night she killed him she had found him with a hooker. Never before had any of her victims cheated on her. Rage had driven the guilt from her as she killed him.

From each victim, she had a token, a keepsake of their time together. From Todd she had his letterman's jacket from his high school glory days. He'd given her the jacket when they first started going "steady". It had been a sweet and innocent gesture that, even now, whenever she looked at the jacket made her stomach twist. Mindy had given her a book of poetry about friends. She read it every night, to punish herself and remind herself what she had done and what she still had to do. Her present from Lauren was a silver bracelet that her mother had given her when she was a little girl. It was a special gift. Lauren's mother had died when she was only eleven. She had kept the engagement ring from Alan, wearing it around her neck so that the reminder of her betrayal was always close. His death had been one of the hardest. It pained her to take the father away from already motherless children. So she kept his token closest to her. John had been a closet artist, and on their one month anniversary he had painted a portrait of her. It now hung on her wall, a constant reminder of who she had become.

Anything else that she had acquired during her time with each victim, had been burned after their death. She wanted no further evidence of their murders than those special gifts they had given her.

A tear slipped down her cheek. With each murder she felt a piece of her soul went missing. Now, she was about to set out upon another assignment and lose yet another piece of her already shattered being.

She pulled out the file of her latest victim and studied the picture there. A sad smile spread across her lips as her finger traced their face. So beautiful. Why did such beauty need to be destroyed? Closing her eyes, she willed herself to become hardened. She would not become close this time. She would only invest enough emotion to become close to the person, but not overly close. She would not mess up again. This time, she was determined to keep from feeling guilty.

A nice long chapter to make up for all the time that it's taken me to update. Please review and tell me what you thought.

TwigStudios1972 and Stableperson: Thank you both so much for taking the time to read and review. It really means a lot to me.