Heyla, as you can tell I finally got my new computer and my internet. And to console you for the long wait and abscenses in between I wrote two chappies for ya all. Yeah! Anyways I have strayed so far from my original plot line that I have no clue, what's going on and that's kinda bad. Anyways I still hope these are to your liking.

Plz review.

Secret Whispers: Chapter Fifteen Guilty Until Proven Innocent

Grissom sat down and slapped his files onto the table, effectively startling everybody from their dismal state of mind. He looked at his team; Greg was in the hospital with multiply burns, Warrick was sleeping off the pills Catherine had given him a few hours ago, Nick was staring deeply into his cup of coffee, Sara's eyes were closed, and Catherine was rubbing her eyes tiredly. Grissom looked down at the table and then looked up, he could feel the effects of too much caffiene working on him. "Okay team, we need to put together a profile on this serial killer." Grissom sounded defeated.

"Well." Catherine intertwined her fingers, "He or she has a routine, the killings first started on the third of march at a fancy apartment building. Three days later he struck at a public park just a few miles away from the first murder site here." she said unrolling a map and marking the places in, "The third murder took place in the middle class district, seven days after the second. Notice anything?"

"They're all magic numbers?" Nick asked shrugging.

"Bingo." Catherine said, "So he either believes in good thing happens when you believe in magic or it's completely coincidential."

"Yeah." Sara said, "Look at this." she pointed to the X's on the map, "They make a perfect triangle."

"Mhmm." Grissom said frowning over the map, "But what about the carving's on the victims backs?"

Catherine inhaled sharply, "I'm thinking he has some connection to old art, especially the well known ones like the Mona Lisa. An art fanatic? Maybe. But if he's so into art why doesn't he do his own pieces? Why does he copy other people's work? Impulsion to bow down to the greater artists? Or does he do it to screw us over?"

"Probably to screw us over." Nick said leaning back, "But he would still have to be a good copy artist and have a good stomach for murder. I mean would any normal person bear spending minutes with a body, carving it perfectly like this or that? Let alone hours? Jesus I wouldn't be able to stand the smell of blood or watch it..." Nick gave a shiver.

"So maybe he's done it before." Sara said, "Practiced on animals, dead animals. Or he could just be one of those people who can't smell properly."

"Doubt it." Grissom said, "Only a very small percentage of people would fit the killer's description who has no nose that can smell properly."

"Since when did he have a description?" Catherine asked.

"Well, number one he has to be pretty strong. To hack somebody's head off in one stroke, it takes a lot of power."

"Unless you have the right tool then just a little flick of the wrist could do the job." Sara said, "Like, oh I don't know some sort of machine or a katana."

"Katana?" Nick asked.

"You know. Japanese swords made stronger by the sword makers folding the steel many times and just the right amount of weight behind the sword could cut through a tree. Besides there were no hesitation marks so he definitely used something sharp or he is a muscle man."

"That did not make sense." Nick said.

"You're just tired."

"We all are." said Andrea from the doorway, "I'm not like interrupting or anything am I?"

"Oh no. Carry on." Grissom said.

"Well since Ryan is such a lazy ass I took the liberty to take this down here for you. The traces you found in that lock of hair is wax."

"Wax? What kind?"

Andrea smiled brightly, "Ryan's working on it, he'll be finished within oh I don't know a couple of hours."

"Why?" Grissom asked curiously.

"You'll just have to wait and find out." Andrea skipped away singing joyfully.

Grissom furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, "Anyways back to my description; he's either got a lot of muscle or he's very practiced with some sort of sharp instrument, the art connection especially the traditional and well known pieces, the belief in magic or a strong attachment to the belief of luck, a strong stomach as Nick said, a well organized plan of who to kill and when, probably does surveillance of the victim's before hand to learn the person's every move, and he use to be meticulous of leaving nothing behind for us to follow. But now he's slipping. A sign of arrogance? I think so. However his MO is changing, or was it just an accident that the gas main blew up?"

"You have great powers of deduction, what's your secret Obi Wan Kanobi?" Nick asked.

"My brain." Grissom answered.

Nick didn't know what to feel; like an idiot or to feel insulted. "What the hell are you doing here then? Why don't you be one of those fancy psychologists?"

"Well I feel very naseous after spending more then a few minutes with insane people, like I'm doing now." Grissom said.

"Okay. I think we need a white board." said Catherine and stood up to get it.

Hours later Sara walked into the Trace lab, the first thing Ryan said to her was, "They really need a database for wax."

"Why?" Sara asked.

"Why? Why!" Ryan said just a bit to hysterically, "I'll tell you why. All the wax products have only one, ONE! molecule difference. You know how tiny one molecule is?"

"I'm pretty sure I do." Sara said.

"I want to strangle something." Ryan said making the gesture in the air.

"I think you need to hold on that. So what have you got?"

Ryan let out a disgruntled sigh, "After hours of tedious and pointless work. I pinpointed the wax's donor. This." he held up a round container, "Yes, it is bikini wax."

"So we're most likely looking for a she." Sara said.

"Or somebody heavily into kink." Ryan said tossing the container down in disgust, "If you're looking for a she then that'll probably cut down about half the population of Las Vegas. Then you have to consider foreign models, people with pools, people on holidays. Blah, blah, blah."

"The victims most likely knew their killer. Whether it was intimate or from a far."

"That's still a lot of people." Ryan said stripping off his sticky gloves and throwing them in the garbage, "And this time you can't prove it's me."

"What do you mean?" Sara asked puzzled.

"Me. Main suspect. Me in the lab slaving away all afternoon, night, and most of the morning." Ryan glanced at his watch, "Well hell I missed med school again."

"You looking to be a doctor?" Sara asked.

"Nope, my mother's dieing wish." he sighed, "But at this rate I'd probably become a doctor when I'm old and crippled."

"Oh don't say that." Sara said and couldn't help but wondering if this was a coincidence.

"If I miss too many classes then I'm out." Ryan said looking through a case file from the day shift. "Oh this is a good one."

"What?"

"Guy jumps out of the window and they're wondering if he had too much Viagra." Ryan snorted, "Poor dude, probably did it out in sexual frustration. This should be in Tox not here."

Sara smiled, "Want me to take it?"

"I owe you." said Ryan bowing low, "Now I'm gonna hightail it out of here and see if I can be on time for my french class for once. By the way Hodges should have showed up by now, but he's late."

"Weird." Sara said.

"Don't need to tell me. He's got this thing for trying to impress his superiors, that means he's either stuck in traffic or home with the flu that's going around. See ya later." Ryan said waltzing out of the lab.

"Hmm" Sara said to herself and went back to the conference room.

Minutes later Nick and Sara were arguing and Nick was sarcastically denying everything, "A coincidence? Sara he did it."

"How could he have done it? The logs don't have him checking out of the lab at any time near the murder."

"Anytime near? Sara the temperature has an affect on the body temp, she could've been dead for hours and the temperature would say different. Or he could've just slipped out from under the desk people's noses."

"So you're saying Robbins findings are wrong? Or that the red head is blind?" Sara asked heatedly.

"I'm starting to think you have a thing for him."

"So? He didn't do it." Sara said, "And before you say my feelings are on the way, they're not. He didn't do it and we all know it. We just want a scape goat so the feds won't come down on us."

"Sara you are so short sighted. He knew these people. Michaels and him had a fight days before the murder. He worked for Angelina at her...club. Tina was his doctor ever since he's been in Vegas. He's got a degree in art. Medical training."

"I'm short sighted? You should listen to yourself. You've already got your mind set on the fact that he's guilty. But the evidence says he's not." Sara said.

"Now I know that you've got something for him. What evidence? The bikini wax could just be a cover up like the fire. He wanted to kill you and Greg and nearly accomplished it." Nick retorted.

"Why? What's his motive?"

"How am I suppose to know? He's a psycopath and you just walked into his trap."

"Not good enough Nick and you know it. You're only going after him because Warner's son is untouchable without damage to this department and Ryan has a mysterious past."

"Ohh you're making this sound like some kind of mystery story." Nick said.

"It is. Now if you don't mind I'm going to visit Greg. At least he's better company, even if he's unconsious." Sara grabbed her cup of water and left.

Nick made a helpless gesture, "Sara...Sara I-I'm sorry."

But Sara was already too far to hear Nick's cry of despair. Outside she glanced at the heavily rain laden sky and knew it was gonna start raining in a few minutes, she crossed her arms and hugged her coat close to her body. A shadow flashed in the corner, Sara froze. Then chided herself as a black cat appeared from behind the sign claiming that this was the crime lab and should uncleared people pass they would be arrested and indicted and possibly prosecuted. Sara smiled, they were all too paranoid for their own good. Sara frowned as she stepped in front of the car to what she thought was Hodges car, she leaned in close to see through the tinted glass. She uttered a short scream as a open hand slammed into the window. Grissom and Catherine all rushed out from the building, Catherine grabbed Sara's shoulders, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Sara answered out of breath.

Grissom opened the car door and Hodges spilled from the driver's seat, unconsious. He was bound up with a multi coloured scarf and gagged. Grissom checked his pulse, "He's okay, but he's breathed in chloroform. He'll be awake in a few hours."

"I wonder who did it." Sara said.

"We won't know till he wakes up, will we?" Catherine said.