Part 5

Warrick ran a hand through his hair, studied the photos of the case, not bothering to look up when Sara walked in, papers in hand.

"So the only people who were in that room were Renee, Miranda, April and Claudia; which pretty much gives us nothing, since according to April's statement they were in their earlier that night."

Warrick squinted at the pictures. "Something's off. Her throat was cut right to left, right?"

"Right, with the knife we found on the room service tray. Right to left would mean that her attacker came at her from the front."

"And if she was incapacitated instantly, then how do you explain this?" Warrick passed her a photo.

Sara examined the shot. It was an indentation on the wall, about eight inches above the bed. She tried to puzzle it out. "Maybe when the killer repositioned her, he bumped her head against the wall."

"And the fact that it's eight inches above her head?"

Sara cocked her head to the side, scanning a glance over the other photos. "What if we're looking at it the wrong way? What if the killer made the indentation with his own head, during a struggle?"

"That's assuming a lot."

As he glanced up quickly, Warrick did a double take, as he saw Nick's retreating back on the other side of the glass, in the hallway. He couldn't see who he was with, but it was quite obvious that whoever it was, he had his arm around her – and Warrick was one hundred percent certain it was a her – and they were moving quickly through the lab.

Renee had faced death before. She'd lost a good friend to a car crash in her senior year of high school, and had been present when one of her grandparents had passed on, but that was completely different then the chilly doom-like wash that came over her as Nick escorted her into Robbins' workplace. She felt his hand slid down her elbow, to grip her hand strongly as Robbins opened the refrigerated door and pulled back the sheet.

Renee felt the breath catch in her chest as she stared down as Miranda's chilled body. The impossibility of it reared up and grabbed her by the throat. She pressed a hand to her mouth as the tears she didn't even realize she was trying to holdback escaped out of the corners of her eyes. Nick immediately stepped up, wrapped an arm around her shaking shoulders, a move that didn't go unnoticed by Robbins. Without another word, he shoved Miranda back into the cold unit.

"I'm sorry Ms. Sanders."

Renee and Nick both turned to see Brass standing behind them. He'd come in like a ghost. He held out his arm, in a silent gesture to lead them away from the cold sterile smell of death. Once outside, Renee was able to pull it together, to answer questions she knew would be coming as soon as Greg told what had happened.

"Are you up to answering some questions?"

Renee nodded, then looked at Nick. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I'll just be a few minutes."

Nick looked at her calmly. Right then and there he knew there was more to this woman then cheerleading and pizza. She had guts and more importantly she had strength. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Renee watched him walk down the hall, then turned her attention back to Brass, who'd pulled out his pocket notebook. "I last saw Miranda before I went to see Greg. I left around 9:45 and Miranda was watching TV in our room with Claudia."

"And had Miranda confessed anything…personal to you recently?"

Renee licked her lips, hoped it would ease the dryness. "If you mean did I know she was gay, then yes I did. I was one of the few people who actually knew. Many of the girls on the team had come to me and asked me if she was, but I respected Miranda's privacy." Renee twisted the chains on her neck around her fingers, an old nervous habit. "They assumed she'd come to me as an athlete, not as a counselling patient. We spoke about it in session at the student centre where I do some clinical work."

Brass just continued to make notes. "So as her shrink, you couldn't tell them no matter how hard they pressed."

"I told Claudia and April that it was Miranda's decision whether or not she would tell them, not mine. I couldn't betray her trust, as her counsellor, and more importantly as her friend. But some how, it got out. How I don't know, but after last summer, the entire team started calling her Lesbo, and other stuff."

"Did she have problems with Claudia or April?"

"They were the closest thing she had to friends on the team." Renee shook her head. "They were the only ones who didn't ostracize her."

Greg had been sequestered – partly by his own accord, partly by Catherine's – into a quiet section of the lab, working on swabs they collected from the scene. Then when he was glancing up from the microscope, he saw Nick go walking past, and his temper boiled over. Snapping off his latex gloves, he went to confront this man, whom he had trusted with all his life. There was more then a little hell to pay.

Back in the work room, Warrick and Sara had finally vetoed out nearly all possible scenarios, leaving themselves with only a few plausible options. Sara braced her hands against the table as she recapped the one on the top of the list.

"So if I have this right, the assailant was a lover and this was a rendezvous gone badly?"

"How else would you explain the—"

Warrick was cut off by a sudden violent crash of metal on tile and Greg's raised voice. Rushing out of the work room, with Sara hot on his heels, he found something he never thought he'd see in his life: Greg Sanders, fit to pound in Nick Stokes' face. The two men were toe-to-toe, with Greg becoming more and more agitated by the microsecond.

"You got some nerve, man, doing that to me. You think I wouldn't figure it out? You think I wouldn't know?" Why don't you try thinking above your belt for once?"

Before Greg could pop Nick right in the nose, Warrick stepped between them, placing a hand on Greg's chest to try and get him to back off.

"Hey, come on man," he placated, "what's Nicky ever done to you?"

Greg slipped past Warrick's guard, and shoved Nick back a full step. "Bet you had a good laugh over it too, when you found out you she was my sister. Just something else to hold over my head; make me look even more like an idiot?"

Nick was trying to keep his cool, vowing to not fight back, since Greg was obviously not thinking straight. "The only person doing that here is you, and you're embarrassing Renee on top of it. Renee had to come in and identify Miranda's body. I came with her for emotional support," he started to explain as calmly and rationally as possible.

This was enough for Greg to see red, literally. He flew at Nick, lunging like a wrestler, wanting to break every bone in the Texan's smug face. Warrick managed to get a hold of him, leaving Nick room to back up a few steps. Voices flew, shouting accusations, lies and half-truths.

Thankfully, by this time, Grissom and Catherine had also come running at the sound of the commotion, shouting for the men to break it up. It took both Warrick and Grissom to restrain Greg; he was a wiry little dude when he was fired up. Grissom stepped in as the voice of reason.

"We were all worried about your sister, Greg, but that is no reason to attack Nick," he said with some strain, as he concentrated his efforts on keeping Greg held back. Finally, Greg stopped wrestling; they loosened their grip on his clothes. He looked around, nostrils flaring when Renee appeared between Catherine and Nick. Going with his emotions, angry as a stomped-on frog, Greg saw the only way to justify his actions was by punishing his sister at the same time. Wiggling loose, he adjusted his coat.

"Easy for you to say, Gris, when it's not…"

Renee and Catherine exchanged a quick glance. Greg wouldn't dare say it…would he? They couldn't risk it, so they spoke at the same time, hoping it would prevent him from saying a thing.

"Greg I am warning you."

"Don you even think about it."

"Your sister Nick Stokes has been sticking it to all night," Greg finished on a heaving breath.