Title: Last Chance - Chapter 4
Disclaimer: Four chapters later and they are still not mine. I am hoping someone will give me Grissom for my birthday next month but unfortunatly I don't forsee that happening. So no, still no profit being made and I am getting nothing out of this except for my own personal enjoyment. However, if you don't recognize a character then most likely he/she is mine, and I'd appreciate it if you'd ask before you took them out to play.
Authors Notes: This is a really short chapter again. Once again all mistakes are mine and only mine. Well, mine and my spell and grammar checker. So please forgive me. This is where we start realizing that I should probably seriously brush up on my forensics and crime scene investigating skills before writing . . . sorry. Please R&R. Even if you feel like flaming me. All feedback is positive to me! Thanks for reading!
It was rare that Grissom felt real disgust at a crime scene anymore. He'd lived to long and saw to many horrors to be shocked. Or so he thought. He heard the horror is Sara's voice and mentally shook himself clear. "A crime, Sara, that's why we're here."
"Yeah . . . " Sara mumbled.
Grissom looked around, taking in everything. The floor around the table was covered in partially congealed blood. In the center of the pool sat a beautifully decorated dinner table set for three. "Or," Grissom mused "It was beautiful until someone decided it needed a splash of color."
Dark blood covered the entire top of the table. The two bodies were seated on either side of the table, and both victims were covered from head to toe in blood. Both bodies were positioned the same way, their hands were clasped on the table over their plates as if in prayer - their foreheads pressed to their fists, hunching them over the table. A spot was set at the head of the table which, Grissom assumed, was for the child. He couldn't help but wonder where the girl had been while this animal did this to her parents.
"Sara? I need you to photograph the prints in the hall." Grissom looked at her. "Ok?"
"Yeah Griss, ok." Sara turned around and headed toward the doorway.
"Warrick? Can you do the perimeter? And please get some more crowd shots. But don't look to obvious doing it. We don't need a shot of the top of his head."
"Yeah Grissom, I'll get right on it." Warrick left the room leaving Grissom alone with the young coroner.
Grissom turned around to face David. "David?" He got as close to the bodies as he could.
"Yes, sir?"
Grissom snapped off multiple pictures of multiple angles. "Can we move her? Her hands are covering something."
"Yeah, sure . . . " David gently moved the body of Delanea Fina, the female victim. As he moved the hands, Grissom grimaced, underneath was a heart.
"David, are there any signs she's had her heart removed?"
"No sir, not that I see, but . . . " He trailed off while Grissom took more shots.
"But what, David?"
David made to touch it, glancing in Grissom's direction. At Grissom's short nod, he turned it over. "I'm pretty sure it's not human - I'll know for sure after some tests, but I'm 98 percent sure it's canine."
"Ninety Eight, huh?"
David blushed. He pointed to the body of Andrew Fina, the male victim. "Shall we see what's under door number two?"
Grissom nodded and followed him around to the other side of the table. After following the earlier actions the discovered another heart under Andrew's hands. And again David gave the assumption that it was canine.
David made a face at Grissom. "Mind if I take these two?"
"Yeah, David, go ahead. Sooner we figure out what happened, the sooner we'll have something to lead us to the little girl. Just try not to disturb anything." He stared taking swabs of the blood. "Oh, and David, call me when you have COD - I want to know where all this blood came from. And how they were both overtook without," he gestured toward the table, "disturbing anything." Even the wine in the glasses next to their plates hadn't been spilled. It was - perfect.
He turned from David just to catch Sara returning to the room after photographing the footprints in the hall. Like a radar, he always seemed to know when she entered a room. He walked over to her, "Looks like a man - size 11 boots - and unless they were wearing identical boots, down to the wear and one small mark on the heel - I'd say only one." She reported. "How does one man overtake two grown people, kill them without making a mess, and kidnap their child?"
He pursed his lips, "That's what I'd like to know."
To Be Continued...