Chapter XVI

WHAT!

Sara was analyzing the fibers while Warrick talked to Hodges about the trace evidence they'd recovered at the scene. If one looked in the dictionary for misplaced arrogance, David Hodges' picture was right there, in the dictionary. If you cross-referenced, he'd also be under utterly annoying and petty...but the man knew his stuff. "The sample you brought me was Drum rolling tobacco. Someone was rolling their own cigarettes out there." Warrick nodded, "I wonder how many people use Drum in the city..."


His pager went off. He headed to the lay out room. The faces of the four victims were there, pale and very dead. He had the reports in his hand. Sofia was staring at the board, mumbling to herself, Greg looked very uncomfortable...but if if Warrick was in the same position, between two seething women who looked like they were about to kill each other, he wouldn't look too happy either. "Hodges analyzed that trace we found. Drum tobacco, roll your own cigarettes." Sara nodded, "Fibers are polyester, a little aged, dyed sienna brown."
Sofia looked from Melody Wendell to Gene Taylor and then Horace Kent, finally the latest victim. Elizabeth Monroe, a widow who'd been the pillar of the First Vegas Baptist Church...She'd been the stand-in Grandmother for her entire neighborhood... She hadn't deserved to die.. Sofia tilted her head, something was nagging at her...Something... "Oh. My. God." She whirled around. "Warrick, Elizabeth Monroe...we were right there and we didn't see it." Greg blinked. "Uuum...is that supposed to make sense?" Warrick shrugged, he wasn't quite sure what Sofia was getting at either. The detective ran her hand through her hair. "She's that old woman, from the gift shop, the one who thought we were married!"

Catherine and Sara's mutual "WHAT!" echoed down the halls. Greg, seeing their shocked faces, wished he had a camera...he'd have to settle for laughter. He looked at Warrick and Sofia, both were blushing. "You two married..." Greg stopped talking because he was laughing to hard. Sara and Catherine looked from Sofia to Warrick. Sofia rubbed the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. "Anyway..."

She started to pace. "After that we went in and saw the curator..." Now she wasn't really talking to them at all. Sofia was in her own little crime-solving world, she just happened to be speaking aloud. "The curator who wears a hideous polyester jacket and smokes his own home-rolled smokes." She looked at the CSIs, "That's our suspect." She checked her watch, "And I know an ADA who would love to get a warrant for me...a good friend of Horace Kent."


Sara nodded, "Greg and I will head out to the Freemont Street Office, if you can get a warrant for their files, especially neon supplies...and for his house..." Sofia was already half way out the door. "We'll have a warrant for his baby pictures when I'm done."

The CSIs watched Sofia swagger out towards the door, more then one set of eyes followed the seductive sway of her hips.

Catherine looked at Sara and Warrick, they were looking down at a file together. His hand was resting on her shoulder...

When had they gotten so close?

"Hey Sara." Greg's voice cut through Catherine's thoughts. "I'm going to go check out suspect by the database, page me when you're ready to leave."

Sara nodded absently, then bent back down to what she was examining. She was like a blood-hound on the hunt, perfectly focused and utterly determined to close the case.

Author's Note: That was fun...Jealousy much? I meant to have these chapters up earlier...but I was busy...drinking...