Title: And the Thunder Rolls
By: duffshel
Author's Note: Well, thanks for the warm welcome back with this story. Glad to see people are intrigued by it. As for what's up with the guys…something in some part of this story at sometime in the near future will explain all. Promise! Hope that helps! Enjoy this next addition. Let me know what you think of how it played out with…well, you'll see. Tried to make it as real as words on paper would let me. See y'all sometime in the middle of next week. Bye!
#2: Prayin' it's the weather…
Greg couldn't help, but to hop from one foot to the other. It had been awhile since he had been around so many high school students. It was kind of weird, and not in a good way. Something about these kids was off. He shook his head harshly.
'They just were in the same room as a murder. What do you expect Sanders!'
Brass had wanted to start in here first since these were the primary witnesses. He didn't want them to forget anything. Something about the youth attention span being worse than a jellyfish's now. Greg really hadn't been paying attention.
There were three girls and five boys. They were all huddled together in the corner. Some on chairs, others on the floor. None were talking. In fact, there wasn't a single sound coming from them other than the occasional sniffling.
All their belongings were piled up on the floor over by the left wall. There were backpacks, coats, and what looked to be the ugliest red purse Greg had ever seen. He took a step closer to Brass and lowered his voice, "Have they been searched? Their stuff?"
"One of the B.C.'s told me they did it. Same with the adults," Brass matched his tone as he took his own time to look over the pile. There was a lot of stuff, but kids always thought they needed more than what was completely necessary. His daughter had been the same way when she was still at home.
"Well, we should get started. Have to get them home sometime," Brass stated as he moved further into the room, "Okay. I'm Detective Jim Brass with the L.V.P.D. and this is CSI Sanders with the lab. We're going to be asking you questions about what happened today."
A tall boy with dark brown hair shook his head, "But we already told stuff to that other cop."
"That may be, but I have my own questions for you. Now, I just need you guys to calm down and think about this. Anything you can remember may help. And I would appreciate it if you cooperated with Greg here. He is going to be taking finger prints and examining your hands."
Several feet shuffled along the ground. Hands wrung the other. Teeth gnawed on cuticles. But no one said anything. Still only sniffles.
"First off, I need to know who we have here. Please state your name and age."
The tall boy rolled his eyes, "Derek Richards, 16."
Brass looked expectantly towards the small, blonde girl huddled up on her chair, "Susie Kenneth…17."
"Natalie Mueller, 15," the taller blonde stated from Susie's left.
The group of the remaining four males simply rattled off their names without looking up, "Kyle Peters, 17...Sam Abraham, 16...Kevin Nash, 17...Jack Christensen, 16."
"Amber Scott, 15," the red headed girl squirmed under Brass' intense stare and his waiting pen.
All this information was written quickly. Greg watched the group, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. They all looked like simply high schools students who didn't really understand what was happening. None would say it, but he was sure they all wanted to go home to their parents.
Without thinking too much more on it, he grabbed up his kit and set it on the nearest table. Greg nodded at Natalie. She winked and held out her hands. It was an odd reaction to have when you were about to be fingerprinted as a possible suspect in a murder.
"Good. Now, let's see if we can put a picture together. Let's start with our saxophone players."
Susie shifted, "That would be me and Amber. We hadn't been in the room all that long. Hadn't even really had any time to warm up or anything. Just happened, then we were all running from the room."
"Amber?" Brass asked as he looked right at the young girl's face.
"Yeah…I didn't know what happened. All I heard was a scream, then I was being pulled…I've never heard a gun shot before."
"Who pulled you? Anyone in this room?"
Simple shrug of the shoulders. Eyes darted towards the floor. Her shoes took over her sole attention now.
Greg took a deep breath and sighed. At this rate, there would be nothing to use. These kids didn't see a thing. None one had a face to go with the crime. Hell, no one had a t-shirt for that matter. He could tell Brass had the same feeling. Susie held her hands out and didn't pay any attention to the CSI as he did his tests. It was no time before he was turning towards Derek. No luck for gun residue.
"Alright, did any of you see someone with a gun? Someone standing behind Kayla? Did any of you even see Kayla?"
There was the shuffling of feet, glances at each other. No one jumped up with any information. They all looked completely scared. And the storm looked to be getting worse through the windows. World of gray matched the thoughts of gray in the room. Thunder rumbled, but it was ignored for the more important matters. Like that brown spot on the tiles.
"Anyone that didn't belong in the room? Someone that looked…off? Doing something weird, odd?"
Greg quickly grabbed up Amber's, Kyle's, and Sam's prints. The GSR test was negative so far on all the kids. There hands were clear of gun residue. Only two more to go.
"Where were the other members of the band? Seems there were a lot of people missing for a practice that was supposed to start very soon."
Derek sat up a little, "Waiting outside. Don't always want to get in too quickly. Only get yelled at more if you walk in too soon. We hang out outside the door until the last possible minute on most days."
"You went in early today. Why?"
The boy only shrugged, didn't say another word. Brass looked over the other kids, but none of them offered anything, again. Silence seemed to be the way they would go for all of this. 'Maybe if I took them to the mall they would suddenly be able to talk again.'
Brass rubbed at the back of his neck, face in full frown mode now. These kids were going to kill him at this rate. But none of them were showing signs of murder. Just a lot of that damn silence and hesitation. After all these years on the force, it was almost like a sixth sense. The detective checked over Greg and took note that he was finishing up with the last kid now.
"Okay, we're going to go over and talk with your teachers now. These cards," he flashed several yellow index cards, "Are to be filled out to the letter. Don't leave anything off. Once we are done talking with everyone and have all your information, you will be free to go."
Only silence was his answer. No one even glanced in his direction. But Greg got a couple of his own. Those kids must not have known what to make of the younger man. But the CSI didn't have any time to think about it any more. His arm was in a vice grip.
"Get the lead out kid. Have some more people to not have a conversation with."
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Nick sat back on his heels and rubbed his palms over his eyes. They had both searched for anything and everything that might be relevant, but nothing was jumping out. He had collected good sources of DNA, but would need to get samples from everyone that was in the building for comparison. Though, it was most likely to turn out non-exciting. Lots of kids, lots of samples.
And the GSR that Warrick found on the plastic chair was consistent with the shooter standing behind the girl. Testing back at the lab, and the murder weapon, would prove how close the killer had actually stood to the victim. It wasn't anything unexpected. One wanted to find GSR in a shooting crime. They just wanted to really know how they moved through all those chairs and stands without alerting the girl.
"Looks like we got a bust in here. What ya say to going in and checking up with Greg?" Warrick questioned as he shuffled over to his partner.
"Might as well. I want to get back to the lab as soon as possible. Going to be a lot of work to do."
Warrick held up and rubbed at his forehead, "Where would you ditch the gun in a situation like this?"
"I dunno man. Nothing found anywhere in this room. I moved everything around up here, looked behind everything that I could."
"Yeah, the office doors were locked, dark. There has to be a weapon. I mean, damn, we got a gun wound."
"Think they still have it on them?" Nick looked up, lips twisted in question. This look made his dimples stand out a little. Nothing like when he was smiling, but it was enough to force them out.
"Nah, that would be suicide. 'Specially with Brass sniffing around."
"Lots of other rooms around. Think they threw it?"
Warrick sighed, "First Greg, then we'll all check around for it."
Nick nodded, but didn't say a word. His back was straight and tight in his restraint from blowing up at his partner. This was another blow off in the making. He knew his eyes told Warrick exactly what he didn't dare at this moment. They could argue in the car, again. 'Damn that man and his great ideas!'
Both men began to collect their supplies and replace them into their black kit bags. Nick stood and stretched his back. Something down by the victim's chair caught his eye. He squinted and shifted forward.
"You forgot your brush, man. Getting kinda sloppy."
Warrick shook his head, allowing for a small twitch in the sides of his lips, "Yeah well, go pick it for me. Help a guy out."
They laughed slightly, but Nick did as he was asked. The finger print brush rested on the floor close to the edge of the stair. Nick bent over and scooped it up. He was distracted from turning by another loud crash from outside the door.
Nick couldn't help the curiosity that swarmed up through his system. It sounded like the world was coming to an end outside that door. And like any normal person, he wanted to play witness to it.
"Hey, Nicky. Nick? What ya doing? Ya know it's storming, man."
The taller CSI watched the Texan walk slowly towards the door that led to the outside. His feet began to move his body forward without much thought. All he knew was Nick was walking towards something that was making his stomach twirl and churn. Nothing good could come from this. Nothing ever did when he got this feeling.
As he got closer to where Nick was reaching out to the door, the noises outside took on a new song. Everything had become a simple rumble. The walls almost seemed to shake with the sound. But Warrick knew there was no train around this area. So, it wasn't a train. 'It wasn't a train!'
"Nick…" his voice drifted off as he watched Nick push on the door's release. His feet rooted to the floor for a split moment.
He could hear his friend behind him, but the continuous grumble of the beast outside had much more a pull. The metal bar was cold under the flesh of his hand. It moved forward with ease. The entire door was ripped from his hand. But the impact against the brick was completely washed out by the intense storm right in front of his eyes.
Wind ripped in and lifted his shaggy hair. The whistling filled his ear drums. Chills ran up and down his spine like marathon runners. But it was the sight of things that took Nick's breath away.
The rain was moving almost completely horizontal. It seemed to scream to the ground. Large hail balls slammed into the ground along side the free water. Some looked to be the size of baseballs. They shattered on the cement just inches from here he was standing in the open doorway. Ice shards covered his boots.
It was completely gray, with slashes of white throughout the clouds. A hand touched his shoulder and Nick took his eyes away for a second to glance back at Warrick. The other man's mouth was slightly open as he took in the sight that had captivated Nick so completely. But the sudden panic and fear that forced those green eyes to widen got Nick to twirl his head around.
Lightening ripped across the sky almost continually. The streaks of grayish white were hypnotizing. The rumble now became a complete roar. It seemed to shake the entire world now. Clouds began to spin and swirl around each other. It was the tornado that dropped from the sky that took Nick's breath away.
From what Nick could make out of it, it was pretty wide. This wasn't one of those tiny ones that were in all the twister movies. It was hard to make out every part of it since it was just several gray shades on top of the other. But it was clear where the base struck with solid ground. The world was whipped up around it.
"Holy shit!"
"You can say that again," Nick nodded, eyes wide.
The two men were frozen in place. This was a rare sight in Nevada. Tornados were more prone to the Midwest or the Southern states. Nick had heard plenty of warning and sirens around his home in Dallas. But this was the first one he had ever seen.
So intent was their attention on the one, they completely missed the second one dropping only twenty feet from where they stood. This was even larger that the other one. And it was taking a fast direction, towards the school.
Warrick felt the air being wrestled from his lungs. Several trees were ripped up and thrown like they were simple twigs. It was the Ford truck that was picked up that scared him the most.
"Nick, we gotta move!" he shouted over the noise while grabbing hard onto Nick's shoulder.
At first, the Texan didn't understand, but he glanced off to his left, "Oh my god."
The truck spun in circle. It's hood spun almost fast enough after the tail gate that it almost seemed to run together. It was lifted higher into the air as the twister kicked up more sand as it moved. Nick could taste the sand on the air now. And feel his hair almost rising completely out of his skin.
Without thinking, Nick jumped out of Warrick's grasp and scrambled for the door. It was almost glued onto the brick wall. Two arms wrapped around his waist stopped his wrestle match with the immoveable object. The truck was coming right at them.
Warrick threw his body back and grabbed hard onto Nick's arm. His knuckles were white as he pulled the shorter man back with him. They reached the second tier of stairs when the truck slammed into the open doorway.
The force of the hit was enough to crack the bricks and shove the wall into the room. But the tornado was right behind it and helped push it into the room even more. And it was enough to send Warrick and Nick to their knees. Then to their faces.
Nick peeked under his arm that he had thrown over his head and saw the wall begin to give even more. It crumbled and bricks were spit inward. A larger body slammed into his to force him to move from his prone position. His feet scrambled for purchase on the carpet, fingers digging in. Nick didn't make it far. And from the grunt by his side, neither had Warrick.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Moving across the hallway to the other room, Greg was taken back at how dark everything seemed to have gotten. Even with all the lights on, it seemed almost a yellow haze, it was so dim. But he didn't have time to think it over since he once again had to keep up with Brass. That seemed to be his main goal in everything with this case. Keep up and on top of it.
The detective was on a war path it seemed. He barely nodded at Andrew as he walked into the room, "Go watch the kids. We got in here. No one leaves. And make sure they are working on those cards."
Andrew nodded his head and walked out. Greg watched him go, but didn't say a word. He redirected his attention to the people in the room. They all looked pissed, and worried. Two of the women were sitting at the table on the far wall, full attention turned to the outside. The rapid lightening strikes lit up their faces with an eerie glow.
"Okay. I want to go home and I'm sure you all want to as well. Let's make this quick and painless. What did anyone see?"
A tall main with thinning brown hair stood and adjusted his suit, "I'm Principal Tom Stalling. I was in my office when I heard the screams. None one told me a thing and then next thing I knew, I was in here. But something happened in my school. And I want answers!"
"You and me both, buddy," Brass smirked a little, "But mine are a lot more important right now. Did anyone see someone leave the band room? Prior to the kids running out? Someone that shouldn't have been with the kids?"
One of the women looking out the window turned, "I was locking my class room door when they came running out. I'm the calculus teacher, my room is the door to the right of this one. The students were all screaming…no one, but the students."
"Anyone with a gun?"
The brown hair rustled as she shook her head, "No, just terrified children. What happened?"
"Did you know these kids?"
"Some. Had them for class."
"Any of them look off about anything?"
These adults quickly became like the kids across the hall. Faces became blank, eyes shut a little. Shoes and the floor in this room suddenly became their Disney World.
"The music director in here?" Brass looked over all the faces.
The other well dressed man raised his left hand slightly. His gray hair looked thin and limp. There were thick glasses perched on his nose, dark in color. His shoulders were hunched over, "I was preparing in in the other room. We have a concert coming up."
"So you didn't see any of the students?"
"Never do until right before rehearsal. I let them collect as they will. Then once it is time to begin, then they have to sit and listen," he dropped his head as he trailed off. This man had seen nothing about what occurred in his classroom.
Greg watched the other four people in the room, but none of them came forward with any information. They were more collected than the students, but not by much. From what the Boulder cops had said, none of these teachers had been in the room, only in the building. The janitors had begun cleaning for the day in the bathrooms in this area. It seemed unlikely that any of them would have shot the girl.
Brass turned back towards Greg, "Alright, we get their information as well."
Any further comments from the older man were cut off. The world around them dissolved into a steady rumble. Sand storms whipped harshly outside the window. Everyone turned to look outside. The window shattered and sent people to their knees.
TBC…