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, Shooting Stars, Gum Drops, 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: Only got a couple of guesses on the name, two which were right. I went with the collie mascot for Texas A&M on that one. Thought it worked… Ah well. Anyways, off to another tangent. I must admit, I don't really like this chapter. I don't know why, but I do. But thanks for reading and please review. Always is nice to hear from the readers. Until next time…
Chapter 13:
Bang, bang!
Could a body close the mind out
Stitch a seam across the eye
If you can be good, you'll live forever
If you're bad, you'll die when you die
Hearing only one true note
On the one and only sound
Unzip my body
Take my heart out
'Cause I need a beat to give this tune
Ramalama (Bang Bang)-Roisin Murphy lyrics
Sixty three days earlier…
Nick couldn't help, but to rub at his eyes. He didn't know whether he was trying to fight off exhaustion or tears. Both were equally annoying. And it made it harder to drive back home to Vegas. To his home and his family.
The blue hooded sweatshirt was warm, but he was still covered in a cold sweat. Nick's hands would twitch against the steering wheel every once in awhile, fingers flexing and relaxing. He could almost still feel her small, delicate hands within his larger, stronger ones. There was a chill buried in the innocent flesh and it transferred into him. He wanted to give her something to hold onto, but was short on options. All he had were words and kindness. It was almost laughable.
He had stayed an extra day back in Pioche, even after talking to Cassie about what had happened. Everyone had called him wondering where he was, what he was doing. It had taken a few minutes extra to convince Warrick not to come and drag him back home. But his friend understood when Nick finally relented and mumbled out his reason over the phone. All he needed was one more day to be a friend to a lost little girl.
Bright, colored lights shined on the horizon. Nick couldn't stop a smile from rising on his lips at the sight. Vegas was a city he had always dreamed about, heard about as a kid. It still amazed him that he lived here, worked here. Had family here. It caused a small burst of warmth to shot through his heart.
The traffic was light during this part of the evening. Rush hour was past. Now it was simply tourists and late night people wandering to and from different corners. Nick relaxed a little more in his seat as he cruised the familiar roads, turning in the direction of the crime lab.
Several police units were at hand in the lab's parking lot. Nick didn't think much of it. It wasn't something new. And he would recognize Brass' Magnum anywhere. The detectives were in the house. Along with the rest of his coworkers.
Nick pulled into his spot and put the truck into park. Looking once down at his quarter tank meter, Nick leaned his head back against the rest and closed his eyes. He wanted to go home and get some rest. The motel bed hadn't been the best and he missed his box spring.
Coughing a little, Nick forced his body into motion and moved out into the night air. There was a slight breeze, lifting and shifting his short hair around his forehead. Rubbing at his right eye like a five year old that had just woken up; he walked towards the entrance to his work place.
People were moving around quickly, never stopping. The cops avoided his questioning gaze. Panic, tension was thick in the air. Nick frowned and looked around without moving his head, just his eyes. His lips pursed outwards a little, tongue tight against the roof of his mouth against the front teeth. The receptionist saw him and almost seemed to faint from some sort of relief.
"Mr. Stokes! Oh, I'm so glad you're back. Everyone has been wondering where you were. Detective Brass almost went out to find you himself tonight. And Mr. Grissom has locked himself up in his office, only to be retrieved when you arrived. I can call him right away and let him know. Mr. Brown will be happy to see you. He was the most worried after all. Called you his brother more times than I could count when they were all talking..."
Nick listened to her ramble, her words getting faster as she tried to get every thought out to him as quickly as possible. And it did nothing, but confuse him even more. He held up a hand and cleared his throat, bringing the young brunette to a halt.
"But I was working a case. Up in Pioche. Everyone knew I was staying there."
Her head bobbed, "Yes! They knew, but everyone was expecting you this morning. And then she came and everyone got all panicked. Mr. Brown talked with her, sent her away, but then they got worried when you hadn't come yet. They had all been here working the case and wanted to find you, but couldn't leave."
"What? Who?" Nick shook his head, both hands coming up now.
"Kelly Gordon. She came to the lab to speak with you about something. Left a note."
Nick's mouth went into full blown cotton mode. Hell, his entire body felt like it filled with cotton in that very moment. He couldn't believe that Kelly would come to the crime lab looking for him. As far as he knew, she was still locked up in jail for another year or more. But she was looking for him, here of all places.
"Where's the note?"
"Mr. Grissom took it. Said he wanted to be alerted when you got back. I should really call him," the receptionist's hand reached for the phone to punch in the correct numbers.
But Nick didn't really connect to what she was doing right away. Anger and frustration took over and made him think about how Grissom was babying him again. Thinking he couldn't handle something as simple as Kelly showing up at the crime lab when she was supposed to be in lock up. The anger won out and he stopped the woman from contacting his boss. His face took on a look the woman had never seen from the easy going Texan.
"Don't bother. I'll just go there right away myself," Nick forced a grin and nodded at her, "Thanks for letting me know."
She bought it, "Oh, no problem Mr. Stokes. Hope everything is alright."
He had to turn away from her smile before it threatened to blind him. And it seemed everyone in the lab knew that she had been there. Smiles were given, people moved far out of his way. It was more than a little irritating. He could also swim through the amount of pity they were laying on.
The door to Grissom's office was closed, the blinds shut against the hallway. Nick stopped in front of the wooded barrier, unsure with how he wanted to proceed. Part of him, the good CSI, wanted to knock and wait for permission to enter. The other side, well, it wanted to forget all about manners and demand what the hell was going on. Bad Nicky won out.
With uncharacteristic roughness, Nick threw the door open hard enough that it bounced hard off the wall. His hand stayed out to catch it so it wouldn't slam him in the face. And Nick took large steps into the room, smoke almost filtering from his nostrils.
Grissom was sitting in his chair behind the desk. A look of surprise and uncertainty stained his entire face. It would be something Nick should gloat and relish in, but anger was still running the show. His voice came out in a deep growl.
"You have a letter that belongs to me I hear."
His eyes gave away the location of such a letter as Grissom glanced to the side of the desk. It was in a plain white envelope and from the looks of it, unopened. Nick still didn't stop his eyes from narrowing as he waited from some words from the older man.
"Yes, it was dropped off at the front desk. I asked to hold onto it for you. And I was to be told when you arrived…" Grissom almost finished to himself.
"Oh you were, but I thought this would be so much more fun. Why isn't she still behind bars?"
The tone, the words, Nick couldn't seem to be able to control them anymore. They almost had minds of their own and it almost felt good. Something uncurled in the corner of his mind and smiled at the treatment of someone whose opinion meant so much to him. It was a surge of power that Nick couldn't name. And he really, really liked it.
Grissom removed the glasses from his nose and placed them on the desk. He tried to keep his face as blank as possible, "She was up for parole and they felt she had served the sentence to the term that was satisfactory. According to her parole officer, she has been out for five days. And it was the first time she came here for anything."
"She served her term? But I thought she had a year left?" Nick's voice was thick with confusion.
"Yes, but remember, she really didn't have anything to do with the murder herself. According to her statement, she was only there for a time, then ran when her boyfriend killed the other man."
Nick scrunched up his face, "Why wasn't I told about this earlier? I would have liked to have gone."
"I didn't allow it. Besides, I wasn't here when Conrad was contacted about it. I had that class at the body farm."
That was the last straw and it took all Nick's strength to wait for the other man to stop talking before exploding, "You didn't allow it! And how in the hell is that your decision in any way? Huh? You ever think I wanted to be there? No! Because you don't care. Or don't listen, either one works for me."
Grissom lost every once of control he had and slammed his hands on his desk as he pushed himself to his feet, "That wasn't something you needed to go through, Nick. It wasn't important and I didn't think it would come to this."
"Not important!" Nick took a step closer to the desk, hands curling into fists, "How in the hell could you think this wasn't important? I mean, shit, her father put me in the god-damned ground!"
"Yes, but she didn't have anything to do with it. You only saw her that one time. She had no reason to come here and see you. And this letter needed to be kept away…" Grissom's tone dropped as his thoughts caught up with his mouth.
"Kept away…from me, that is. Why do you think I can't deal with something like this?"
The older man took a deep breath and counted backwards slowly in his head. He needed to get it together or this conversation was going to go no where quickly. Grissom took a second to look at Nick and wasn't happy with what he saw. Under all that anger, exhaustion and pain was clearly present. This wasn't something the other man needed right now.
"It's not that at all."
The quiet response brought Nick up short, "What is it then?"
"You've been through a lot the past few days, with that case. I talked with Catherine and Sara. I know what happened. And I didn't want to top it all off with this until I felt you were ready for it. I wasn't going to keep it from you."
Everything slipped away from Nick with the deep sigh that resonated through the office. Suddenly he felt lost and confused. This wasn't him, this wasn't what he did. Nick turned his head a little to the right, eyes moving away from his boss. Seems he couldn't run forever from things, they always caught up.
"Can I have it?"
Grissom tried to study Nick the best he could from his spot, standing behind his desk. The CSI was hiding his eyes, but the posture was enough. Nick was at his breaking point. It was all going to come down soon.
"Nick…I don't know if it's such a good idea."
"Just, Gris, let me have it. I'll take it and read it somewhere else."
"Alright," Grissom relented, "But that somewhere else will be at home. You are off for two days."
Nick's jaw dropped and he turned his gaze back at Grissom, "Two days? Why?"
"You need a break. I will expect you back at the regular shift when you're time's up. Get some rest, some closure. What happened in Pioche was not easy and I know you need to think about it all."
They stood, looking at each other. For what, neither quite knew anymore. This conversation at taken too many 180 degree turns into too little time. And it all made Nick feel even more tired.
"The letter?"
Clenching his teeth together, Nick held out his hand. He kept his eyes hard, no wavering there. This was something he was going to win. No one, especially Grissom, was going to keep this from him.
Without looking down, Grissom grabbed the white envelope and pointed it straight at his CSI. There was a moment of hesitation before Nick pulled it from his grasp. It felt heavy and loaded for as thin as it looked.
Nick simply nodded and left without speaking another word. He missed Grissom literally collapsing back into his chair, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. All he wanted to do was get to the locker room and leave as quickly as he could.
People still avoided him, shot his nervous smiles. He didn't know if anyone had heard what had taken back in that office, but he found he didn't really care. Maybe it was time for people to see Nick Stokes as someone other than the Southern gentleman.
He pushed into the locker room, head kept down. None of the other graveyard CSI's or detectives had been milling around on either of his treks to and from that office. Nick had no idea where they were and didn't really want to see any of them.
Greg and Warrick were standing, waiting for him, "Hey bro. How ya doing?"
It was clear as day the worry and relief in Warrick's voice. Nick remembered the receptionist saying something about everyone worrying when he didn't show after Kelly had left. Everyone thought he must have not been able to handle himself and got kidnapped again. Great.
"Fine. Going home."
Moving out of his way, Greg noticed the white paper held in his right hand, "What's that? The note? I still can't believe she had the nerve to leave something."
"Just drop it Greg," Nick muttered as he unlocked his gray coated locker. He threw the door back and quickly began to gather up his personal effects that had been left before that lovely trip to the prison.
"But Nick, she shouldn't be here. I mean, she's his daughter."
Nick slammed the locker door shut, "I know! I know…"
Warrick moved closer to his friend and placed his hand on the tense shoulder. He was worried about what all this was doing to his friend. Nick was reacting way off the charts. He knew it had to do with everything, the serial, the missing girl, Kelly. It wasn't long before they would have to put him back together after he fell off his wall.
"You need a lift home?"
Shrugging off the hand, Nick walked away from the two towards the door, sarcasm and a sneer evident, "No thanks. I think I can handle this one on my own. I promise to not let her get me."
And he was gone.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Greg sat uneasy in the passenger seat while Warrick drove the way through the city. Another body had been found. And the same meaning of death according to the on-scene officer.
While they had been away, Catherine had dealt with one all on her own. Whoever was doing this was obviously not too affected by the loss of Caleb Johnson. But it did confirm there was more than one party involved in this mess.
"Greg, man, stop moving around so damn much. Getting annoying."
"Sorry, just uncomfortable," Greg mumbled to Warrick as he stared out the windshield.
"What's up?"
"I dunno. Just surprised with everything, I guess. And kinda worried about Nick."
Warrick sighed and readjusted his grip on the wheel, "Yeah, but my boy'll pull through. He's a tough one. Just been a rough week."
"Yeah, but even after everything else, I've never seen Nick like this. And from listening to Sara, he attacked that boy in the interrogating room. That isn't something he does."
"Let me tell ya from experience, Nick has a temper, just like everyone. He's directed it at me a couple of times and it ain't pretty. It's normal for him to lose it. And if he hadn't right now, I would be even more worried. Stress can kill a man."
"But you are worried, right?"
"Of course, Greg," Warrick shook his head, "But I'll wait it out. Nick will talk about it when he's ready. I'll probably head over there after shift to check on him, drug him if need be so he gets some sleep. Dude needs to get some deep sleep."
Greg shifted again, looking out the window to his right. The area they were in was dark, farther away from the lights of the main attractions. This was a part of Vegas that was always missed on the tours.
He was about to ask another question when a police sedan pulled out of nowhere, sirens blaring into the night sky. Warrick had to shift a little to let the other guy get past. Both CSI's watched, moving at their same speed. The car turned down they street they were heading to.
"What the hell?" Warrick asked, not expecting a response.
The truck jerked forward as he applied more pressure, surging more gasoline through the engine. Another sedan was heading towards then, from some side street in front of them. It too swerved down the street they were destined to go down.
"Something's wrong."
Nodding to Greg's observation, Warrick turned the truck down the street and looked at the cop cars lined up, zigzagged. The officers were all out of their cars, guns at the ready. Warrick pulled over to the side of the street, close to the farthest sedan. He didn't get out of the car, but his hand strayed towards the heat he carried on his hip.
Greg rolled down his window, wanting to hear what was going on. He could see two officers signaling for someone to drop something, but couldn't make out a person past the half circle of steel. But now he could hear things better.
"Drop the gun!
"Move away from the girl!
"Hands in the air!"
"Drop the gun now! Drop it!"
"Step away!"
Somehow the lights seemed to shift together at the same time, igniting the entire area in flashed of red and blue. Standing in the middle of the circle was a tall, brick wall of a man. And when his eyes were lit up, Warrick felt all the blood draining from his body, dripping slowly into the upholstery.
"Oh fuck."
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Nick threw his cell phone onto his couch, making sure to turn off the ringer in the process. A weight settled down onto his body, pressing his shoulders down to the ground. He kept yawning, fighting it, but never winning.
He stood for a moment, looking around. It looked the same as always, but Nick was just confused on where he should go first. Another yawn split his face and he decided the bedroom would make the most sense.
Stepping into his personal chambers, Nick quickly pulled his sweatshirt off, along with the white t-shirt underneath. A layer of sweat glistened on his pecs, his abs as he worked at his belt buckle. The jeans fell to the floor, feet stepping away from them.
Nick stretched his arms over his head as he walked away from his bed, into his bathroom. He answered each of his body's needs and brushed his teethe from longer than was probably really necessary. Taking a good look in the mirror, Nick was shocked with how much older he appeared at that moment.
Spitting into the sink, Nick grabbed the blue towel and wiped down his face. He tried to hand it, but it fell to the ground despite his best efforts. After staring at it for a moment, Nick decided he really didn't care about it all that much right at that moment.
He shuffled back into his bedroom, limbs getting heavier with each step. Kicking at his pants, Nick finally noticed the white paper. Frowning, Nick reached down for it and wrestled it out of his pocket. It was the envelope with the note. Nick had forgotten about it on the way home.
Nick sat hard down onto his mattress, trying to see through the envelope with x-ray vision he knew he didn't have. But it was worth a shot, and a waste of a little time. Nothing liked stalling for a moment to catch back up.
The seal wasn't tight and Nick ripped the top flap off quickly. He opened it with pressure on each side, revealing the single piece of paper inside. It was small and square, plain white. Except for the marks made by a blue pen.
It pulled out with ease, but Nick kept himself from focusing on the words. He could see the note, see something was there, but kept it fuzzy. It was light, crisp in his hand.
Taking a deep breath, Nick focused his vision and read the short note, 'Nick, I didn't take it with me. Just thought you might like to know.'
"What?" Nick said loudly into the quiet of his bedroom. That was not what he was expecting. All the big deal and worry over that? It was almost ludicrous. And it was enough to get Nick to start laughing.
He dropped back onto his bed, note falling to the floor. Laugher ran free from his, shaking his entire body. It felt good and helped to clear his mind. But not enough to notice the bottom of the note had signs of being torn. Something was missing, but he was too wrapped up in other thoughts to notice it.
TBC…