Before I forget HAPPY CHRISTMAS! although I'm not english I'll say happy instead of merry cause it pisses people off. And have a great new year.
Now that that is out of the way, sorry it took so long, but I was having fun torturing people. Mwhahaha.
Thanks of the reviews:
Simply Crisis: Well thankyou, I'malso doing thiswriting stuff from school, thank god for lunch breaks. I got another person inthe 'shave the mustache group' yeah! But Nick(George) already shavedit, so I'm happy.
Please review soon and I'll be getting my new computer on Boxing Day so mwhahaha!
Secret Whispers: Chapter Fourteen Blazing Inferno
Nick stepped carefully over the broken glass and wove his way around the familiar rooms to the back where the patio was, he took all the broken vases and smashed paintings in and bent down next to what use to be Tina. Death did her no justice, her face was smashed in like Nicholas the 2 the last czar of Russia. A hank of curly brown hair laid about 5 feet away from the body. Nick sighed and felt his head drop; he looked up as a commotion sounded at the door…
He recognized Warrick's voice, loudly demanding to know what was going on, he heard a softer murmur of Greg's voice, trying unsuccessfully to calm Rick down. "What is going on!" Warrick practically screamed.
Nick got up and walked mindful of the glass shards to the door, "Nick." Warrick said relieved, "Why is there crime scene tape all around the house and-and uniforms stationed here? Is this some kind of joke?"
"No Warrick. I think you should sit down before you hear this."
"No, I will not sit down, just-just tell me what this is."
"Warrick I'm sorry to inform you that your wife, Tina Brown, has been murdered."
"No-no." Warrick cried after a moment of silence before crumbling into Nick and Greg's arms, "This can't be true, you're lying. All of you are lying." He tore himself from their grasps and bolted down the street.
"I'll go." Said Nick quietly, "You hurry up and process the crime scene and call somebody, call Catherine."
"Okay." Greg said glancing forebodingly towards the smashed open door.
"Be careful of the glass shards, you don't want to cut yourself up." Nick said over his shoulder.
"Yeah." Greg reluctantly dragged his feet towards the open doorway.
Nick got into his Tahoe and drove slowly down the street, searching every dark nook and cranny just in case Warrick hadn't gone and broken down in one. Nick found him an hour later, clutching drunkenly at the neck of a bottle of half empty Vodka and tears leaking down his face. Nick got out and knelt down beside Warrick, "I think that's enough, don't you?"
Warrick grabbed Nick's shirt, "She's dead." And he started sobbing.
Nick patted his back awkwardly, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
Nick helped him into the passenger side of his Tahoe and drove him down to the lab to hopefully get the grieving Warrick to a much more sober state.
Greg winced as he stepped on another couple shards of glass and hoped to god that he would be done clearing the pathway to Tina in a couple of hours. Greg swore he was seeing double where little itty-bitty were not suppose to be there. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and shook his head trying to clear his head. It did not help one bit, Greg started as somebody stepped on a patch of glass he had missed, his hand strayed down to the gun he had been issued when he had taken and passed the firearms test just hours before.
"Sorry." Said Sara with a sad smile, "I didn't know you hadn't cleared this path yet."
"Oh." Greg said obviously relieved for the extra help with the crime scene, "It should be cleared, but I'm kind of seeing double here so I'm not sure if I processed everything…"
"That's okay, I have better vision anyways." Sara said and kneeled, instantly taking out her camera and snapping shots.
Greg gazed at the battered body of what use to be Warrick's wife and sighed, "Tina was nice."
Sara looked over, "Yeah."
They finished processing the scene in silence.
Catherine rushed to the entrance of the crime lab; she had just received a call from Greg detailing the bad news. She wanted to be there to comfort Warrick, chase all his tremors away with a simple warm hug. But she had to be patient; she didn't think the ghost of Tina would like her husband necking with another woman so soon after her death and Catherine was sure Warrick wouldn't appreciate it either.
She blinked as the bright sunlight struck her eyes and she saw Nick half carrying half dragging a sobbing Warrick to the door. Catherine rushed over and took a half of Warrick's weight; she made soothing sounds to Warrick. She and Nick helped him into a comfortable chair in the conference room, where Warrick curled up and cried for all he was worth. Catherine got up and poured a cup of lukewarm water for Warrick, she considered tranquilizing it, but that was a bit under the law so she slipped sleeping pills in it instead.
Catherine wiggled her eyebrows at Nick and Nick understood perfectly what she intended to do, it was either that or putting a guard on him all day and everybody was going to be too god damn busy with trying to catch the Death Artist then keeping an eye on him. Nick forced Warrick's mouth open as Catherine poured it down his throat, they both stood by and watched as Warrick's green eyes flickered once, twice, then closed. Nick immediately left and Catherine ran her hand through the tangled mess that Warrick called hair and tucked him in. She then hurried out to catch the Death Artist and she hoped whoever he was he would suffer a horrible death.
Greg stared at the bloody mess upon Tina's back, "What the heck is that?"
Sara came over and stared at the girl inscribed there, "I think it's like that one movie um…. what was it? Girl With a Pearl Earring, I think. It was such a beautiful movie."
"Okay…" Greg turned away, "Just don't drift off into la la land okay?"
"Am not."
"You so are."
"Whatever. Hey where the heck is David? He should've been here a couple of hours ago." Sara asked glancing at the ruined door.
"Probably held up." Greg mumbled snapping a picture and then picking up the stray hank of hair, he gave it a sniff, "Wow, smells like…like candle wax or something. I'll send it to Hodges when we get back to the lab. Maybe he'll be able to track it down to a certain brand."
Sara nodded vaguely and printed the windows and the broken door, she held up what seemed to be a piece of doorframe, "Wow." She ran a hand in a deep gouge in it, "This must've been made by somebody with something sharp and a lot of strength."
"Really? Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Sara." Greg said sarcastically.
"Yeah well it's our job to point out the obvious if you don't know." Sara shot back.
"Sorry." Greg said, "Just having a stressful time here."
"Well we all need to buck up, can't fail the victims now can we?" Sara asked half to herself and half to Greg.
"Yeah."
A small explosion ripped through the air and a burst of hot gas blew into their faces. They were both knocked backwards into pieces of furniture; they acquired a new set of bruises and scratches. Sara stared in the direction of the kitchen where the blast had come from and she moved, "Grab everything and get the hell out of here, fire!"
Greg stayed still for a minute in shock and grabbed his kit and pieces of evidence that had already been bagged. Sara grabbed Tina around the bloody waist and preceded to drag her out the door, the fire had now become a raging inferno. It steadily engulfed the roof, everything it ate turned a black, and the smell reminded Greg of the one time he went camping and a tree caught fire. The air was turning grey and smoky and he could hardly breath, he thought he heard Sara shouting at him, but he wasn't really sure. He shook his head and grabbed the camera, but his legs didn't seem to be working, he struggled for a few minutes and the roof came down in a fiery blaze of glory. Greg stumbled back from the burning wood, his vision swam, and he collapsed his legs unable to support him.
Fresh, clean air flowed into his raw lungs; he slowly opened his eyes, which seemed to be glued shut. At first everything was blurred, but gradually his vision cleared. He recognized the sterile white walls and the annoyingly loud beep of a heart monitor; he was in a hospital room. He smelled antiseptic and other not so pleasant smells, his nose itched and his breathing hitched. Greg couldn't be sure but he was sure he tasted a bit of blood down in his throat where the raw place was.
Greg heard a shuffling sound, he slowly sat up. All his muscles were aching and screaming at him. His stomach rolled twice before settling down where it was suppose to be. A bright pair of eyes peeked up from a pile of blankets, "Greg!" Sara said excitedly, "You're awake."
"Sara." His voice sounded strangled, dry. It hurt to talk, really it did.
"Wait, don't talk." She hurried from his line of sight and returned a moment later clutching a paper cup.
She poured the cool liquid down his throat and Greg closed his raw eyes in bliss, "So." His throat was better now but his voice was still scratchy "Did I save anything?"
Sara decked him, "You almost roast to death and all you think about is the evidence!"
"Well, I'm that way, so did I?"
"Yes, you did. You idiot." Sara said with a watery smile.
"Oh no, don't you dare go all weeping baby on me." Greg said mightily alarmed.
Sara threw herself on his chest and wept slightly, "Is this some weird declaration of love?" Greg wondered out loud.
"No." Sara sniffed and hugged him, "Well maybe. Since you almost burned to death in that house."
"Yeah, I'm wondering what caused it?" Greg asked.
Sara's eyes hardened, "The killer is trying to claim more lives."