"She's been in there a long time," Sara said, peering through the glass. "What do you suppose she's thinking about?"
"How not to get hit when she goes home," Grissom said, watching her through the two-way mirror like a zoo. "We need to keep her away from her husband to get a clean statement. I hope Greg finds enough to hold them for a while."
Warrick entered quietly, a scrunched look on his face. "This is the buzz of the shift right now. DeMonte's wife offed a senator?"
"We're not sure, we have yet to take her statement," Grissom said. "Husband has instructed her not to talk."
"Pfft, wife whacks guy, husband covers it up, case closed."
"I still don't think she's gonna give us anything," Nick said as he looked in. "Look at her lip. I noticed it as I was talking to her after she'd changed." He still hadn't divulged to the other two about the interplay between them. "Her lip's been split. She's scared to death."
"Fresh," Grissom said, leaning toward the glass. "She keeps sucking on it, as if it's still bleeding. Must have been some gardening chore."
She was sitting quietly, sipping occasionally from a glass of water; her thumb kept rubbing the edge of glass as she set it down as if wiping away the blood from her lip. She stared at the table, breathing evenly.
"That is not the same woman from the mansion," Sara observed. "She's so calm."
"She knows her husband will protect her to get himself out of trouble. Perhaps her husband is the emotional trigger," Grissom said.
"He needs a trigger all right," Nick's jaw clenched so hard it popped. He then blinked slowly, leaning toward the glass with a seethe through his nose.
"Whoah Nick," Warrick started.
The door knocked once and Greg popped in. "Red splatter cocktail," he quipped, handing off the folder to Grissom. "Guess what kind."
Grissom's brow furled.
"Positive match for red wine, the senator's blood, brain matter, and an unknown blood."
"There is a second victim?" Sara asked.
"Yah, her…" Nick said. "When I was processing the blood splatter on her face, there were scratches on her neck under her hair."
"Nick couldn't get under her shirt?" Greg grinned; then lost the grin under Nick's glare.
"He's right," Grissom said. "We need to get the dna from that glass and a look at her injuries."
"Never going to happen," Sara said. "She's too good at hiding the abuse. Someone that prominent, that social, she's not going to fold because she doesn't want the repercussions that come with it."
"If she's so good at hiding it, then why was all that bloody evidence out in plain sight?" Nick commented, crossing his arms as he leaned back.
"Rushed? Supports the theory that the crime scene was posed," Sara said. "But why then would she leave the door open, when she knew Nick was coming to get her things."
"Maybe she was crying out for help…" Gil said softly, raising an eyebrow.
"You need to see those wounds. She has to consent first," Warrick said. He pursed his lips.
"Then we have to convince her to seek treatment," Grissom said. "You two go in," he gestured to Nick and Sara, handing Sara the file and pictures.
They both nodded and stepped out of the room.
"Are you okay?" Nick asked Sara before they went in.
She nodded, "I was about to ask you the same thing. Are we assuming she is an innocent victim, or the murderer?"
"I really want to nail this guy," Nick said. "After what I saw, we need to nail this guy."
He pushed the door open.
Grissom watched as they entered. Kara barely looked up.
"You think she killed him?" Warrick asked.
"It's quite a puzzle, isn't it?" Gil said thoughtfully.
"We need to get a statement from you, Mrs. DeMonte," Sara said first.
She nodded.
"I was in the garden and broke something, then went to clean-up for the party. We were greeting guests, I heard a ping, my wine glass shattered, then the senator fell."
"Officially?"
She nodded. Her neck was hot, she reached up to pull slightly at her collar.
"Is that what your husband told you to say, in the kitchen?" Sara asked.
"That's what happened."
"We found glass from the back patio door in the trash. Are we going to find your blood on it? Or the senator's?" Nick asked quietly. "Kara, you can talk to us, your husband can't hurt you here."
She watched him for a while, and he kept the stare. Shifting to Sara, her expression changed. Her eyes narrowed, there was something wrong, and she knew when something was wrong. She could feel her cheeks burning, glaring at both of them.
"Are you all right?" Sara asked.
Her eyes lowered slightly, almost as if she was falling asleep.
"Mrs. DeMonte?" she asked again.
Nick noticed a brilliant blossom of scarlet start to stain the shoulder of her blouse as he stood.
"Get a doctor in here now!" he snapped as he hit the mirror with his palm and moved around the table to help her.
The door burst open; Grissom had called in the EMT. Her breathing was erratic, eyes fluttering as she became unresponsive.
They both backed out of the room. Nick's expression was scathing as he glanced at Sara.
Moments blurred, the gurney whisked her to the ambulance and she was gone.