Author's Notes: Thanks everyone, for all the kind support!
Jewels
by Kristen Elizabeth
Regan had replaced her black overcoat with a brown one, just as shapeless and nondescript. She'd pulled her dark hair back at the base of her neck, taking ten years off her face, which bore no trace of makeup.
Greg thought of the clothes they'd found in Maia's closet. Strapless tops, leather skirts, high heels. How could one twin put herself on display, while the other did everything possible to hide?
The interrogation room looked so big around her as she sat across the table from him and Brass. She probably had no idea that she was even further on display, as Sara and Grissom were watching from the other side of the one-way glass.
Regan reached for the cup of water she'd requested and took a sip. "My so-called family emergency was just a way to get back to town quickly. My boss…he's not a bad guy, but when he drinks, he'll make a pass at anything. Even me." She shrugged. "I admit. I got back earlier than I claimed."
"Then why did you lie about it?" Greg jumped in, cutting off Brass who was about to ask the same thing. "You were back in town before your sister was murdered. That's a pretty big discrepancy."
"And what would you have thought of someone who didn't realize her sister was missing for over a week?" Regan looked away for a long moment. "Maybe if I'd called her when I got back…"
Brass shot Greg his patented skeptical look. Greg cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Did you ever fight with your twin, Ms. Mays?"
"We were sisters. Of course we fought," she replied softly.
"Did you kill her?" Brass asked point-blank.
Regan slowly turned her head, but instead of looking at the detective, her stare settled on Greg. "If you really think I'm capable of killing my twin…you're not the man I thought you were."
Greg knew that Brass was watching him, and that Grissom and Sara were doing the same, but he couldn't look away from Regan. Her eyes were clear, hazel, unwavering.
"Okay, why don't we take this back a step," Brass suggested. "Tell us what you and Maia fought about."
Finally, she blinked. "We were very different people, no matter what we looked like on the outside. And we led very different lives."
"She was a party girl," the detective supplied. "You weren't."
"Maia knew how to have a good time."
"Did she have a boyfriend?" Greg asked, surprised at the hoarseness in his voice. "We found…evidence that she might have had one."
Regan rubbed the pad of her index finger in circles over her temple. "I'm sure she had more than just one." There was a pause. "Look, I shouldn't have lied about when I got back into town. But I swear, the last time I saw Maia was two days before I left. And she was alive. It's hard enough knowing that I was here when someone…did that to her, but being accused of having been the one to do it is too much." She pushed away from the table. "Can I go now? My parents are a wreck; I'm having to handle everything to do with my sister's burial."
"The coroner hasn't released the body yet," Greg said.
"Yeah." She slung her purse over her shoulder. "I know."
They ordered dinner from his favorite Chinese take-out, but Greg wasn't all that hungry. He picked at his sweet and sour shrimp as Sara and Grissom reviewed the evidence thus far.
"We went over every inch of that apartment with ALS and luminol," Sara noted. "No blood. She wasn't killed at home."
Grissom chewed thoughtfully before adding, "Have we accounted for her whereabouts up until her time of death?"
"Brass went to all the bars and clubs within five blocks of the scene. No one remembers seeing Maia Mays on the night she died." With her chopsticks, Sara snuck a water chestnut from Grissom's plate and popped it into her mouth. "I collected a journal and a day planner from her place. I'll start going through them, see if we can find any of her friends."
"Maybe they'll know what she had planned for the last night of her life," Grissom said, using his own chopsticks to fend off Sara's attempt to steal another bite. "Since the sister's not being cooperative."
"We accused her of murdering her twin," Greg blurted out, seizing the couple's attention. He stuck his fork in his carton and pushed it aside. "Can you blame her?
Grissom glanced at Sara. "Greg, if you've got some personal issue with this case, now is the time to tell us. Your behavior recently has been…uncharacteristic."
He glared at Sara. "You talked to Grissom about me?"
"Not the way you're thinking," she defended herself. "But you haven't been yourself lately. And I was worried about you. I think you're getting too involved."
"And I agree," Grissom added. "What we saw today in the interrogation room…"
"Look, normally I don't care what you two do on your free time." Greg shot to his feet and threw down his crumpled napkin. "But keep me out of your pillow talk."
He regretted his words all the way to the locker room. Banging his forehead against the cold metal, Greg waited for his breathing to steady. The problem was not that he'd been discussed.
The problem was…they weren't wrong.
Greg got home, put on a movie and fell asleep before the South Park kids started singing. His phone woke him up hours later; the DVD had cycled back to the menu. Peeling himself off his couch, he answered it without checking the caller ID.
"Hello?"
It took a moment for the caller to whisper, "Greg?"
Suddenly, he was fully awake. "Regan?"
"I'm sorry to bother you." He heard a soft sniffling sound on the other end. "I just didn't have anyone else to talk to."
Greg ran a hand down the length of his face, feeling a light layer of stubble. There were a million reasons why he should have hung up, not the least of which was that he could be taken off the case. But she could have some new information about her sister's death. Or life.
I think you're getting too involved.
Maybe Sara was right. But he was past the point where he could stop himself. If he'd even wanted to.
"It's okay," he said, settling back into the couch. "You can talk to me."
To Be Continued