Part 7
Back at the lab, Warrick was hovering around Jacqui Franco like a hawk entrapping a mouse as she pulled up the print information on the case. Jacqui didn't mind; she'd missed her chocolate bear switching off from graveyard to swing shift yet again.
"I ran the ten cards against the vic's toothbrush and hairbrush, Claudia's prints were a match to the latter."
Warrick nodded. That made sense, given what Sara had told him came out of the sit-down with her. "What about the table knife?"
"Only one set of prints and they're not your vic's. But I did notice something else. Fingerprints left behind a very unique signature of oils, so I ran a sample." Jacqui handed him the print-out. "The keto acid levels were off the charts. I'd suggest going back and talking to your suspects again, and pay special attention to anyone with the sugar shakes."
"Sugar shakes?" Warrick repeated.
Jacqui nodded. "You know, headaches, shaking hands, extreme thirst, the works. The killer's a hyperglycaemic."
The following morning, Catherine and Brass found April making short work of the buffet in the MGM restaurant. They slid into the booth across from the cheerleader who appeared to have a ravenous appetite: her plate was piled high with bacon, fruits, fresh mini Danish, and Catherine counted three kinds of cheese, all washed down with a generous pitcher of fresh squeezed orange juice. Somehow, even with her fork working double time, April managed to answer Brass' questions.
"Yeah, Claudia went back upstairs. Said she forgot her ID."
"When did you see her again?"
April shrugged, dragged a strip of bacon through a pool of ketchup. "Look, I was already half drunk, and I didn't happen to have a Felix the Cat handy."
"Give me a guess." Catherine fought hard not to roll her eyes.
"Around ten thirty, I think."
"Miranda Simpson died at ten-twenty. Ten minutes is more then enough time to clean up and head back downstairs." Brass paused, hoping his words would sink in. "And there is no footage of Claudia returning via the elevator."
"Our room was down by the stairs."
"That's a long hike. I saw the shoes you ladies were wearing, and if you're half as a drunk as you claim you were, she'd have a broken ankle walking down eight flights of stairs."
"So what? Claude's a cheap date; she probably thought walking would help slow her down some," April replied, finishing off her fourth glass of orange juice, something that made Catherine focus a little more. "Look, are we done here? I have to go make some calls to people back in Miami."
"One more thing," Catherine said, "Last summer, who told you the rumour about Miranda?"
April's voice was flat and cool. "Claudia. The girl's a gossip factory, so half the time I don't even listen to her."
"So Claudia admits she was with Miranda that night, but we've got no conclusive prints to suggest anything beyond a tryst," Sara said as she and Warrick walked through the halls of the lab, on their way to meet up with Catherine, she if she had found out anything useful. "Plus, hotel surveillance showed she used the lobby ATM at 10:18. No way can you make it down eight flights of stairs half plastered, across the lobby to an ATM in less then one minute.
"Plus, we've got nothing in the room to suggest anyone forced their way in," Warrick added.
Sara could feel the chill settling in on the case. "Did we look at the room service guy?"
"Elevator surveillance shows him back on the elevator at ten-fourteen, and he key-coded back into the kitchen at ten twenty-one. No prints matching his except on the room service tray."
They stopped when Catherine approached them. "Question," she asked rhetorically, "what's blond, weighs one hundred and twenty pounds and goes haywire when it has too much sugar?"
"Greg on Hallowe'en?" Warrick deadpanned.
"A diabetic. Our killer is with Brass right now, if you'd care to watch."
Inside the interrogation room, Brass stared April Winchester down. The blond was just as cool and composed as she'd been at breakfast.
"Look, I already told you I was downstairs waiting for Claudia."
"Strike one. You were downstairs together the first time. We have footage of the group of girls from the lobby and at ten-twelve, you took off upstairs."
"So what? Like I said, we'd had a few drinks. It's possible I went back upstairs, but my memory's a little hazy."
Brass stood, turned to face the one way glass, where he knew that the team and Greg's sister would be watching. "Here's what I'm thinking. You were suspicious of Claudia and April. Claudia had told you the rumour herself, so who's to say she wasn't the other party in Miranda's alternative lifestyle? You went back upstairs using the service stairs, watched as Claudia instead went into her own room." Brass turned back to April, rested his fists on the table. "But the hunch was too strong, and so you confronted Miranda, who told you Claudia's little secret. Unable to deal with the fact that your best friend would keep something like that from you, you attacked her with the first handy thing – the room service table knife – but you were so freaked out by what you'd done to her, you just carried on like nothing happened."
April did her best to give the veteran cop a withering stare. "It's a nice plot line for ABC, Detective. But this is not about Claudia and Miranda."
"No, this time it's about oranges."
Brass and April looked over to see Catherine walking in the room, a dossier in hand. "We found liquid insulin on Miranda's bedside table. You're a hyperglycaemic, so you'd need to be sure you kept that stuff handy in case you were going into shock. If you don't, the three best things after that are chocolate, honey, and orange juice. I noticed how you were guzzling it this morning at breakfast when we spoke to you. You'd missed your morning shot so you needed a booster."
April shrugged, though her bowels had gone icy. "I'm a diabetic. Me and how many other Americans?"
"But yours were the only unaccounted-for prints we found on the knife."
April's breath caught in her chest. There was no way out of this except for one very consequential option: the truth. Sighing only a little, she folded her hands on the table. "Have you ever been cheated on, Miss Willows?"
"Yes I have."
"So you can understand the shock and the humiliation of finding out your lover has not only a full meal in you but a side dish as well." April dragged a hand through her dishevelled hair. "I told her I'd only get involved if she could give me one hundred percent."
"So why take it out on Claudia's lover?" Brass asked. "You figure you'd silence her, and since she didn't want anyone knowing her secret, she was stuck with you?"
April gave him a look that was an odd combination of loathing and patronization. "Of course you'd see it backwards. You're a male." She turned back to Catherine. "I'd had my suspicions about Miranda and Claudia for awhile. But when she didn't come back right away when Renee left, I knew something was up. I was getting some ice down the hall and I saw her come out of Renee and Miranda's room. Then when Claudia came back to our room, I could smell that hideous smell of Miranda's mineral oil on her hands. I'd begged Mir to throw it out, but she claimed it was good for her skin, and she wouldn't part with it."
April sighed, slightly relieved but mostly scared to death. "When I saw her leave to go back up to the room, she knew I knew something was going on. So when I went to confront Miranda, and I saw that look on her face, my worst fear had been confirmed."
April squeezed her eyes shut. She could still remember the feel of Miranda's skin as they'd fought the mad grab at the knife on the table, the quick shaking drag around Miranda's throat. "Claudia and Miranda were two of the most connected people on campus. If it got around that I…"
"But it doesn't end there." Catherine shook her head. "You'd missed your nightly dose, which you'd set on the table, and you needed a fix. So you went for the first thing you saw, the fruit salad on the room service tray."
"Then you went right back downstairs and joined the party like nothing had ever happened." The thought of it made Brass sick. "Why did you come back early?"
"Claudia was sick, couldn't hold her liquor, probably worried I'd done something, so we came back to the hotel, and that's when I knew she'd been found." Satisfied she'd done the best she could do, April turned to stare at Catherine. "You know, this makes us like sisters, almost. Think back, Ms. Willows, to when you were cheated on. Weren't you ready to kill him? Or her? They used our love as a weapon against us, until we're left with nothing."
Catherine stood up to leave. "Except the difference between you and me is I walked away."
Outside, on the other side of the one-way glass, Renee stood shaking as she listened to April's chilling confession, surrounded by the CSIs. Beside her, Nick stood stoically, not touching her, understanding her need for space.
"There's going to be paperwork and jurisdictional things to sort out. But you'll be able to head home as planned tomorrow afternoon," Warrick reassured her.
The shrink in Renee threatened to take over. "Is it strange that I sympathize with both Miranda and April?"
"They're your friends Renee," Sara said. "What you feel about it is your business."
Just then, a small cough sounded behind them. All four turned to see Greg standing awkwardly, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.
"Are you allowed to be here?" Renee asked her older brother.
"Grissom called said I'm off suspension."
Nodding, Renee rushed over to Greg, nearly lifting him off his feet as she hugged him fiercely. He was a special breed of knucklehead, but he was her big brother, and she'd known all along, he'd see the error of his ways.
"I'm so sorry Greg."
"No it's okay, you were right."
"Well of course I was right, you pinhead," Renee said into his shoulder. "I'm a woman, I'm always right."
Greg laughed, then looked at Nick, his face full of apology. "I got your message last night."
Nick folded his arms across his chest. Greg was not the sort of person to admit fault easily, and it was as close to a confession of wrong-doing as he'd come. Then Renee took a step back, looked at her brother.
"So, do you want to come out tonight? Nick's taking me to this Chinese place."
Though it cost him a small fracture on his heart, Greg shook his head. "No, it's okay, you guys…do your thing."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, you're a big girl, you don't need me babysitting. Besides, I have a lot of work to catch up on here."
With that, Renee and Nick left, and as Greg watched them go, he realized with some trepidation that little Gizmo had somehow grown up on him. Turning back to Warrick, he adopted a more serious look.
"I want the case with the goldfish."
Warrick grinned; Greggo was back. "Too late, you're stuck with the poisoning."
"Well, I suppose I deserve that. Karmic payback and all," Greg conceded.
Sara grinned now too. "You don't know what payback is. It's only the first hour."