Summary: There's evil once again in the city of sin. Whatever happens in Vegas…might just kill ya.

Timeline: Sequel to Poisonous Fear (recommended that one is read first), Early/Mid Season Six

Spoilers: Grave Danger, Bodies in Motion, Daddy's Little Girl, several references to other episodes

Disclaimer: This is all written in fun. Everything CSI is not mine and never will be. It belongs to the creative talent of the actors, the writers, the directors, and the producers. I am not making any money off of this. Only meant to offer something new on something already so great. No reason to sue.

Title: To Whom It May Concern

By: duffshel

Author's Note: Thanks for the support from you, the readers! Means a lot as always hearing from you on how you think this story is going. It's still soon enough that I can change some things if they seem to not be working. Just let me know! Alright, off you go! Bye!

Chapter 3:

At first cock-crow the ghosts must go
Back to their quiet graves below.

Theodosia Garrison

seventy two days earlier, across town…

"So how come we all got pulled into this one? Does Grissom hate me?"

Warrick Brown arched an eyebrow at the complaint from his passenger, "Shit Greg. What's got into your head tonight? Does he hate you?"

"Yeah, well, he sends Nick off to meet up with Catherine, pulling the rest of us with him," Greg Sanders slouched down into the SUV's seat even more, arms crossed over his chest.

The two CSI's were alone in the truck. Warrick had taken the keys, therefore winning the right to follow Grissom's truck to the crime scene. He was the alpha male of this duo and made it clear right from the get go. It was habit he had from the many years of partnering up with Nick. Now it seemed, Greg was an unwilling player.

"So, cuz he pulled most of the team to work on a double, he hates you? Man, ya just get crazier each day I work with ya."

"Yeah, but I don't think he likes me as a CSI. Not that much solo work yet, or small group cases. Always stuck with everyone else."

The taller man shook his head and snorted, "Man, if ya got a problem with the boss, take it up with him. I'm the last person to ask on the workings of Gris' mind."

Silence broke over the two. Lights from the street posts decorated the vehicle with repeated flashes of yellow light. Warrick kept his eyes tight on the bumper of the truck in front of him, unwilling to lag too far behind. He knew most areas of Vegas from growing up there and running bets around in college, but there were even parts he wasn't too sure about. Even a man of his past couldn't hit every spot.

There was a double homicide in an alleyway, off Charleston Ave., by the tracks. It was called into the lab by Detective Curtis. She was waiting their arrival. Vega was off at the other scene with Catherine and Nick.

"So, you don't think he hates me? Regrets putting me in the field?"

Warrick hit his hand down onto the steering wheel, exasperated, "No Greg. If he did, you'd be sitting pretty back in the lab right now. Just give it a damn rest, man."

The younger man took to starring back out the window, taking in the aging buildings around them. It wasn't a long drive from the lab, but there was enough to catch his attention. People were still out and about, even at this time of night. It was a dark night, a slight overcast in the sky covering any help the moon would be able to offer.

He didn't really know how to explain why he was so anxious about Grissom that night. There really wasn't a real reason for his to be. It was just that he didn't think Nick was ready to go out solo or with only one other CSI yet. And he felt he should be the one to take his place. That's if, Grissom felt he was ready for it.

Suddenly, the red tail-lights in front of them made a sharp turn right. Greg had to grip the hand railing on the door in order to not fly right into Warrick's lap as the other man made the same movement using his own steering wheel. He was jerked again as the vehicle was braked hard in order not to slam into the other truck.

"Where did you guys learn how to drive?" Greg shook the kink out of his shoulder as he straightened himself.

"Just doing it like a true CSI man. You'll get the hang of it sometime."

"Oh joys."

Warrick merely smiled as he opened his door and jumped out into the night. He automatically searched the area around him as he reached into the backseat to grab his kit. The other side opened and he watched Greg peel his bag up from off the floor. Warrick had to smirk as Greg made a face at the wrapper that wouldn't let go. It was cleaner at least. The cowboy would even approve this time around.

His back cracked slightly as he raised his shoulders upward, green eyes tight on the movement in front of them. Right now all he had to take in was a couple more CSI's, but he could see the lights just beyond them. The crime scene was waiting for them. No holds barred on this one.

"Come on Greg. Quit draggin'."

Greg had the nerve, and the guts, to stick his tongue out at the older CSI, "I ain't the one staring off at nothing."

"No, but I'm not the one making Grissom mad…" he let it trail off slightly, voice lowering almost to a secretive level. Warrick almost laughed outright at the way Greg's eyes grew large at the idea. It was enough to jump start the former lab technician into moving more than his mouth.

"Oh man. I knew it! What should I do?"

Now Warrick had no choice, but to laugh, "Dude, you're way too easy. Shouldn't let yourself get played, boy. Get shoved right off the court."

Their footsteps were quieted by the movement around them as then went under the yellow tape. Lights swirled reds and blues off the walls, bathing them in odd shadows. A few officers milled off to the right, trying not to move around too much. Grissom and Sara had already moved in onto the bodies, setting their gear down to get ready.

They had taken the girl farthest up. Warrick tapped Greg on the arm, directing him to the other girl. His heart got heavy as he took in the youthfulness of her features, the innocence he could still see remaining in the sunken, shallow cheeks. Her gray flesh took everything away. He just got a glimpse of her glossy eyes as they were closed by the corner.

"Hey Doc. What're you doing here?"

Albert Robbins sniffed in slight annoyance, looking upward from his awkward crouch, "I'm not a permanent fixture in the morgue you know. Besides, David was busy and the other guy has off. Decided to get some fresher air."

The man didn't spare another look at the two younger men standing over him. He was agile in his own way, his cane no hindrance at all in his movement in the examining of the body.

"How long you been here?" Greg asked as he set his kit onto the ground, reaching to find a pair of gloves he was sure he had stuffed into one of his pockets, somewhere.

"About fifteen minutes. I was able to find a better way through traffic it looks like. Always knew you guys needed better ways to get directions."

Warrick smiled and shook his head slightly, "Hey, you probably got the call sooner. You seem to get those always sooner. And besides, Gris drove. Take it up with him about how we get from the lab to the scenes."

"Man could find his way through the innards of the common Periplaneta americana Blattidae without batting an eyelash, but ask him to traverse the roads of Vegas and we'd all be in trouble."

"What?"

Robbins looked over at Greg, taking in the confused face of the CSI. He simply smiled, reached out to pat the man on the arm. But he didn't bother to say anything more on the subject of Grissom and his driving. There was a dead girl in front of him and she needed to get back to the lab.

"Anyways, I have done the preliminary work on our D.B. here. Single gun shot wound to the lower back region, another to the back of the neck. Same with the other. Looks to be close ranged due to the ridging of the wound. But neither is through and through. Stopped somewhere in the body, most likely a small bullet, weak weapon."

"Time?" Warrick crouched himself down, camera already taking photos.

"Due to the liver temp I took, I'd have to say she's been dead for at least four hours. The other girl, only about three."

Looking over his shoulder, Warrick frowned, "They weren't killed together?"

It was an open question and they all knew it. Greg busied himself with looking over the girl. She was on her back, possibly from having been moved by paramedics or the corner himself. Her clothes were rumpled, dirty. Blonde hair was splayed out over the gray cement, looking limp and tired. One thing did catch his attention though, her shoes were untied.

"Hey, you take off her shoes for anything?"

"Now Greg," Robbins turned his upper body completely towards the other, "Why in the world would I do something like that out here? That is saved for the lab for a reason."

Trying to ignore the fact that his ears were heating up very quickly, Greg nodded and barely spared a moment to take in Warrick's pinched look of holding in even more laughter at the former lab technician's expense. He sighed as he pushed himself upright and took a couple of steps away from the body. The murmurs from the two living bodies over the dead one drowned out to white noise as he looked around.

His flashlight lit up only a small chunk at a time, but it was perfect for taking it all in slowly. Learning from those embarrassing earlier days, Greg knew he didn't want to rush the parameter search. If he had have had his choice with those first couple of cases, he could have had flood lights and flares lighting everything up. Greg had come to appreciate the preciseness that came from the smaller, compact flashlight in his hand.

It lit up the tire treads just fine, "Hey Warrick, you think these are fresh?"

Warrick looked over to where Greg was standing, following his gaze, "This is an alleyway between two warehouses. Possible, but treads aren't going to give us too much on this one. Document it though."

The younger man nodded and went to work marking the area. Like everything else in the field, it had taken him some time to get used to a camera in this line of use. Normally, a camera was nothing more than a way to capture moments in life, freeze them in time to share with other people for years. Becoming a CSI, he had learned the importance to having good skills with a camera and focusing on those things most people would squirm about if they were put into an ordinary family photo album.

Greg looked over his shoulder at the odd sound coming from the area. There were several people assisting Robbins to gather up the bodies and place them on their respective gurneys. He shrugged it off. Warrick would be able to worry about that, he had to finish this before he lost anything. A hand on his shoulder almost made him jump out of his skin.

"Hey, calm down Greg."

He could just hear the smile in Sara's voice as she moved her hand away from him, "What was the reason for that? Man!"

"What? Scared ya?"

If he had been a peacock, his feathers would have ruffled quite well in the lack of wind in the alley way. But Greg only had his human chest to puff out and attempt to keep his face clear of all emotions other than the glare he sent to the brown haired woman.

"No, of course not. You just caught me off guard when I was trying to concentrate on the case."

"In other words," Sara pointed at him with her right index finger, "You were scared. What's with men not being able to admit that someone spooked them? Not in your DNA or something?"

"No, I've looked at plenty of people's DNA and there is nothing that is assigned for that trait. You just didn't scare me. So how can I admit to something that's not even there? Huh?"

"Whatever. I didn't come over here to argue with you on this one. Grissom wants the two of us to take the outer areas. Him and Warrick will take the inner circle."

Greg nodded, running a hand over his neck, "Already started here. Found a tire tread."

"Busy area. Might not be new. Could be from some delivery a couple days ago," Sara frowned to herself as she thought all the possibilities through in her head.

"Yeah, thought of that, but figured better to be safe than sorry. Got photos and markers of it. Just about to move on when you showed up."

"Good. Let's work on an opposite pattern. I'll head up that direction, you cover here and down. Work sideways at the ends. Remember to check the building walls for any possible misfires."

They nodded at each other and Sara turned her back to Greg as she started along in that manner of hers. Greg shook his head, his hair dancing off his scalp. He looked over to where Grissom was standing, hands on his hips. There was no envy for Warrick having to over there with him.

Greg had always prided himself on his reputation with the ladies and not having to look at any men, but he had taken notice of that look Grissom could get. The one where his lips got all bunched up together and his nostrils flared a little. He saw that face and always knew to turn the other way.

!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+

He kept his chin tucked downward, letting his eyes roam over the area. Three members of his team were working well around him, but he wasn't watching them. No, Gil Grissom was trying to play out what had happened, what had lead to the events in which two women were murdered and left in this alley. Sometimes, he felt if he looked hard enough, he could see into the past. It was like a window would open and pull him straight to the glass.

Nothing was coming to him now. Some of his gift had been lost due to recent events, to his person and others close to him. Grissom had trouble speaking and showing his emotions, but they were always there. Always right under the surface waiting for that moment to break free. He had to fight hard against them.

Shuffling sounded next to him, a sniffle of resignation. He turned his head a little, taking in the form of Warrick in his peripheral vision. The other man was larger than him. It had never bothered him. Just another observation.

"Odd or what?"

Grissom reached up a hand, rubbed at his scalp with short fingernails, "Always go with the 'what' during a scene, Warrick. It's our job to figure out what 'what' is."

"Uh huh, right boss," Warrick responded, green eyes rolling.

"I'll talk with Robbins back at the lab. I want you to process the clothes, shoes. Have Sara and Greg continue looking over the parameter."

"You leaving already?"

The supervising CSI allowed his eyebrows to rise at the question, "You three have it here. I want to get to work with the bodies. We lose something every minute we wait around. Besides, you need to work quickly, going to rain soon."

"Sure, sure. I'll get on top of it."

Grissom left without another word. He trusted his CSI to walk the other two through this. And, he really didn't want to have to deal with Sara and the temper he knew this order would bring out. There would have to be some messy deals with his own emotions at the conflict that would happen. He needed the safety of the lab, his office, to deal with something like that.

But Warrick had been right, it was odd. The whole night was odd. Something was in the air, something he couldn't put a finger on. And it was enough to bother the seasoned entomologist.

His feet carried him back towards the truck that had brought him here. It would be a tight fit to get out, but it wasn't impossible. Logic would have him wait, leave with the others. But he hadn't been lying. He wanted to get back to the lab and work on the bodies.

Several officers hailed him as he passed. Grissom responded to each with a nod, a tight lipped smile. His faith in normal police officers had been diminished a little. The keys were heavy in his hand as he fished them out of his pocket. And the seat was suddenly hard against his back, his thighs.

Looking through the glass, back out into the night on the other side, Grissom's brow furrowed downward. He really couldn't figure out what was bothering him. Something had been distracting him, causing him to be almost edgy, jumpy. Both were things he was unfamiliar with.

Grissom studied the cars, the people, and the shadows around him. Nothing was there that shouldn't be at that moment. He was simply being paranoid. It wasn't a good thing to be at a crime scene. Grissom needed to get away and clear his head.

The truck shifted with a thunk into reverse and he carefully moved the large steel beast through the others around him. It backed into the road, lined up with the yellow, and he slammed it into drive. He would never admit that he almost floored it to get away from that spot.

TBC…