ACID BATH

CHAPTER 2

He sat in the back of his work van, his eyes trained on the computer monitor in front of him. Waiting was tough, but he had waited 10 years, a few more moments wouldn't hurt.

"There she is," he whispered, eyes glued to the screen. She was a picture in her robe. Watching was more enjoyable than just doing it. He would soon have satisfaction.

She slowly took off her robe, stepping gingerly into the water she had tested for temperature with her hand. "She's quite a picture," he thought. "Wonder what she would be like?" A shrug barely moved his shoulders.

She slowly moved herself into the steam of the shower, taking time to allow the water to soak her body first, then her hair, then turning slowly to let it rush over her face. "That's it, baby," he whispered. "Enjoy it." As she moved her face into the full stream, an eerie grin passed over his face. "Love it." He pressed the Enter key.

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Brass stood at the door of the bathroom. The stench of acid filled his nostrils. He could barely keep from choking. He was trying to decide what he should and shouldn't do. He had to stanch the flow of blood coming from multiple wounds on her arms and face, yet he needed to preserve the crime scene. It wouldn't be long before the paramedics arrived, but he had to act fast. Bree's screams of pain were ripping down his spine. Agony gripped his heart as he realized he couldn't stop them.

Janna rushed to his side. "Captain," she began.

"Here, Janna," he handed her his keys. "Get in my trunk and bring me a mask and some gloves."

"Yes, sir."

Tears filled his eyes as he kneeled down to aid his friend. "Jim…", she gasped. "It burns…"

"I know. The paramedics are on their way. Hold on, Bree." He took a towel to stop the blood flow from an especially deep cut as he investigated the shower with his eyes. The glass shower door was completely broken, and some of the blood probably came from that, but Bree had tiny slices all up and down her torso and face, from what he couldn't tell.

Then there were the burns. Third degree blisters had already started to form on her arms, neck, face and torso along with swelling and necrosis. He barely recognized her. She writhed in agony, making him feel all the more helpless. He reached over to the spigot with a washcloth and turned off the water. Couldn't risk losing valuable trace evidence down the drain.

Janna rushed back to the door, holding the items in her hands. "Good," he walked to receive them. "Stay out of here. There is some kind of chemical in the air and it could hurt you. Go watch for the paramedics."

She paused, concerned for her employer, then nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Jim…" Bree reached up for him when he returned to her side.

"You'll be all right, Bree. The ambulance is on its way."

She coughed deeply. Her breathing was becoming labored. He feared she had inhaled too many fumes. He yearned to help her breath. "Come on guys," he thought. "Hurry up. She can't last long like this." His worry shown through his eyes, but he tried a confident smile for her sake.

"It's not working," she whispered.

"What?"

"That cocky…smile of yours." She blinked. "It's really bad, isn't it?"

"We'll take it from here, Captain," the paramedic stated before he could answer. A wave of relief came over him as he stepped aside to let them do their work.

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Grissom sat at his kitchen table, a cup of coffee steaming in his hand, listening to the Police scanner. He had just finished a double only four hours earlier and had gotten about two hours sleep. Soon, he'd be back on duty for the night. He knew he couldn't keep up this pace, but the workload was tremendous this time of year and he had to be there. With a sigh, he started working the newspaper crossword in front of him. At least he could take a few more moments of relaxation before he had to jump into his truck and run. "Let's see," he thought. "A five-letter name for a male goat. Billy." As he placed the letters in order, a voice crackled over the scanner.

"…222 Windham Place. Officer needs assistance. CSI report." Gil shot up from his seat.

"Windham Place?" he thought. What could have gone wrong? Brass was there. He pulled on his coat, grabbed his case and rushed out the door, slamming it firmly behind him.

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Catherine pulled to a stop outside Bree's house as Brass came out to greet her. "What happened, Jim?"

"Don't know yet. Looks like some kind of acid attack, but I'm not sure."

"Gil…"

"Isn't here, yet. I'll get him, don't worry. You and Sara get in there and start processing the scene. Find out all you can as fast as you can."

"Don't worry," Sara said. "We'll be thorough." He nodded as the paramedics came through the door, Bree on the stretcher with IV's dripping and a tube down her throat.

"She was having trouble breathing," Brass explained to the astonished women. "Hopefully, we aren't too late. It was fast acting, whatever it was." The ladies nodded and went inside silently.

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Catherine walked the perimeter of the living room, trying to get a feel of the house and check for any trace of the invader. She walked past the bookcase, smiling at the choice of material that was available. She noticed a book out of place. "Better dust that," she thought. "Turow. Good choice." She knelt down to dust it.

"You'll get my prints off that," Brass informed. "I was browsing her library while she showered."

Catherine nodded as she bagged the book and went on. A picture lay on the floor, its frame broken. "I dropped that when she screamed," he informed. Again she nodded, picking up the picture.

"I'll take it from here, Brass. Go outside and wait for Gil. You can't be involved in this. You're too close to this."

"I know, but…"

She raised an eyebrow and he sighed, turning on his heel to leave the house. Catherine looked down at the picture, astonished at what she saw. She flipped open her phone and dialed.

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He sat at the wheel of the work van, watching the excitement across the street. It was gratifying to see what his work had accomplished. He knew he would be well-known for his prowess, now. The only thing he still hadn't seen was the final result of his handiwork. He couldn't see much from this distance, especially with the media humming about, but he would see the final report tonight on every station available in Las Vegas and probably on the national news stations as well.

One more person to see, and then…

Ah, here he comes, now. He grinned slyly as he started the ignition and slowly moved out from his parking place.

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"Okay, guys, get going. I'll be right behind you." Brass shut the ambulance door behind the paramedic working on Bree, trying to hold back the tears. How could this be happening to such a wonderful woman? To think, he had thought the threat was probably a joke. She did, too, but that didn't make it any easier on him. He turned toward the house to leave last minute instructions for the police officers on the scene.

The media were hollering at him from behind the yellow crime scene tape, but he didn't really hear them. The commissioner would be all over him for not talking to them, but he just couldn't bring himself to face that frenzy right now. This wasn't any average case. It was one of his best friends in that ambulance and that changed everything. The ambulance took off, sirens blaring. He only hoped they could find this creep in record time, before anybody else got hurt, if that was his game.

As he lowered himself to the porch step, he heard the screech of brakes.

TBC