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: Well, I still haven't had a chance to see last night's episode. Have to wait until tomorrow night! That's so far away. But I did learn that two of the stories I've written have been nominated for fiction awards at csifanficawards on live journal. That was kind of cool. I just happened to look at the nominees and had to do a double take when I saw two of mine. Always thought the author had to be notified for such things, guess not. But still, pretty cool. Don't see me winning, not against the other awesome authors and their stories. Though, someone out their liked them well enough and I'd like to say thanks to whoever nominated both or either of them. And special thanks to my loyal reviewers on the last chapter. You guys are the best and I dedicate this chapter to the six of you! So, go on and read now that I've bored you all to death. Until next time.
Chapter 23:
You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what's a life, anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die. A spider's life can't help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone's life can stand a little of that.
-Charlotte, "Charlotte's Web"
Catherine took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her head was beginning to hurt. She wanted nothing more than to hole up with a bottle of ibuprofen and a good book. But there was no way she was going to leave this case fully in the hands of someone else. She was going to get her guys back.
The two detectives were following behind her, talking to each other. Catherine could hear pieces of what they were saying, but overall it was completely uninteresting to her. She didn't care how they were going to break up shifts to make sure the CSI's were being watched at all times. It was something she didn't really feel she needed to worry about. There was no need for her to follow after someone as a babysitter.
Passing by Grissom's office, she found that it was bare. Frustration flared as she stopped directly in front of his door, hands on her hips. She glanced around through the large glass windows that made up the lab's walls. All the technicians were busy doing their work. Hodges even appeared to be hard at working on his trace, not on annoying the life out of a CSI.
But she didn't see any of the people she was looking for. Her eyes narrowed a little, her shoes clacking against the tile as she picked up her pace once more. Several of the off center offices and lab rooms were dark, no one moving around inside. Even the break room had its lights off. Guess no one was allowed a few minutes for mediocre coffee on that day.
Catherine's steps became more of a march as she drew closer to the conference room. It was one of the last possibilities on this floor level. Lights were on, no one home.
"Where is everyone?"
Vega stepped up to her right side, "We could just call them and see. Can't be too far. With all this glass in this place, you'd think they'd be no problem to locate."
"Well, CSI's do have a good tendency to disappear when they aren't supposed to," Sophia remarked dryly, taking position on Catherine's left side.
"Funny guys," Catherine deadpanned, "Let's look a little longer."
She didn't wait for another snippy remark from either of them. Both had gotten on her nerves in a very short time. They were acting like everything bad that was happening in the world right at the moment was the fault of graveyard. Heaven forbid the cops take the blame for anything bad that might happen in such situations. Catherine could think of a few things she would love to say to the two of them, but bit her tongue and kept on walking.
They were coming up to the area closest to Ecklie's office and she was really hoping the lab director wasn't hanging around in it. Glancing down at her watch on her left wrist, it was hard to say. The day shift would be coming in soon to take over the lab. And sometimes the director would be there early. With this stuff going on, Catherine was sure he was here annoying everyone as much as he could.
But all her thoughts were cut off as she noticed the head of gray hair in the audio lab. Catherine changed her direction sharply and walked into the room. She didn't bother thinking of the detectives when she swung the door shut behind her. It stayed quiet. Neither of them followed her in the room.
"What's going on here! Why is everyone hiding away somewhere?"
Grissom didn't even move in her direction. He was sitting on the tall, black stool, back hunched over slightly so his elbows rested on the steel table in front of him. His eyes were locked on the main screen out of the five to choose from. Both his ears were covered with thick headphones.
Groaning to herself, Catherine reached forward and grabbed the black padding of the left muff, pulling it slightly away from the man's ear, "Grissom!"
For his efforts, Grissom didn't appear physically rattled by the sudden sound behind him. But when he turned around, no matter how high he raised his eyebrow, Catherine could see the surprise in his eyes. He was just a better poker player than she was.
"You're back. Just get here?" Grissom removed the head set and placed it gently down on the table, slightly off to his left.
"Yeah. What's with everyone hiding around here? It took me forever to find you holed up over here. What's going on?"
Reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose, Grissom nodded for the blonde woman to take a seat, "I have Sara and Greg working on the evidence they found at the parking garage. Just need to make sure there isn't something we need from there to find out where Warrick and Nick might be. As for where those two might be doing it? I have no idea. Jim is with them though."
"How come you get to be free from the police escort?" Catherine demanded.
"I had to promise Jim I wouldn't move." At the questioning look her received, Grissom cleared his throat, "Had to swear on my fetal pig."
Catherine rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Figures."
A small smiled appeared on Grissom's lips and he turned back to face the monitors in front of him. All trace of the smile disappeared within an instance. He was pretty sure on what he had heard no questions about what was going on from those tapes found in the victim's briefcase.
"What are you doing in here? Where's Archie?"
"He had to run a quick errand to the police station. Brass has him helping locating any information about what Tenner might be up to now that he appears to be back in Vegas."
Hard silence filled the room. Grissom's face scrunched up a little and he turned only his head to look over at Catherine. Her face was pale and clashed oddly with the brightness of her hair. But he didn't understand the reaction from the CSI. "Catherine?"
She swallowed harshly and managed to croak out some resemblance to her voice, "Tenner's back? How?"
"You didn't know?" Grissom was suddenly confused. He had thought everyone knew what they had come up with as their case hypothesis. But reality soon slammed into his brain, "You were at the hospital."
"Yeah. I must have missed that memo," Catherine sat up straight on her stool, hands clenched together in her lap, "Tell me."
"It appears that Tenner is back. After talking with Vartann, we have concluded that the man that grabbed Warrick was involved in the last situation. And from what I've found off these tapes from the parking garage, Kelly Gordon killed Silvia Mullins. She was a patient of the doctor. As was Jacob Tenner, about four years ago."
"So, they might know each other. But why kill the doctor? Was she going to the police?"
"Well, it's possible. From what Jim and I talked about, Tenner is behind these killings. He has his members going out to kill these young women and leave them for us to find."
"But why? You think they might be actual members that they turn against?"
Grissom looked down at the steel table top, "I don't know. We really don't have a lot to work with on any of the girls. Vartann is the detective in charge of them now and he has talked with the families of most of them. No one has said anything involving their daughter's involvement in a cult or odd changes in their behavior. I think they're just random girls they pick off the streets."
Neither said anything for a moment. Catherine had to digest the new information. Her lips twisted up, pursing outward. She let her gaze shift to the main screen that Grissom had been studying when she walked into the room. The name caught her attention the most.
"You're looking at Nick's victim file? Why?"
"Voice comparison."
Catherine didn't bother to hide her confusion, "Voice comparison? Using what?'
Moving his right hand towards the mouse, Grissom looked anywhere, but at Catherine. The arrow rolled over the button and the screen that Grissom had been using. It was one of the moments that Grissom wished the audio room didn't have a surround sound system.
"Hi CSI guy. I bet you're wondering why you're here. Because you followed the evidence. Because that's what CSI's do. Breathe quick, breathe slow. Put your gun in your mouth and pull the trigger. Any way you like, you're going to die here…..Perfect."
"We know that's Gordon. Nick said he left a tape in there with him telling him about how he was going to die. We know that. What are you comparing?"
"You didn't hear it? At the end. There's another voice on the tape. I heard it last time, but didn't think anything of it. Now, I understood. It was a female voice."
"Wait," Catherine held up her right hand, suddenly wondering how it was possible that she was even hearing something that should have been blown up, "You heard it last time? What do you mean? How did you get this?"
"It was brought to me as evidence. Day shift found the remains of a tape recorder from the box. Archie was able to fix it up and restore the data recorded on it. I had it placed onto the file as extra evidence and it paid off."
"Did you tell anyone about that? Least of all Nick?" Catherine was on her feet; head tall over the man still on his stool.
Grissom rolled the mouse under his hand across the padding underneath it. This was the moment he had been dreaded for awhile. Wrong, this was one of the many moments that he had been worried about. "No, I only had Archie work with it and he told no one that it was recovered. I didn't want anyone to know. It was over and there was no need to bring it back up."
"Until now," Catherine snapped at him, "Now it's needed. And none of us would have known it because you hid it from us. I thought we were a team again! Seems to me you need to re-look up the definition in the dictionary Gil."
"But it paid off. I was able to identify the voice at the end. It belongs to Silvia Mullins. I took clips from her therapy tapes and used them to compare the octaves. It's a perfect match. She also worked with Walter Gordon."
"So, she killed Mullins. But what does that tell us about the reason behind it?"
"I listened to what was available from the therapy tapes of Kelly Gordon. There was no information or threats to what was going to happen. But according to some tests that Archie ran, Kelly did have agitation and anger pitches in her tone. But, we may never know the real reason for the killing."
"But at least it's some sort of connection between it all," Catherine sat back down. Her body was feeling heavy and her eyes were beginning to hurt. All she wanted to was to take a warm shower now to remove the phantom chills that had taken over.
"And we can add it to the evidence that Kelly was the main participant in the murder and her own suicide. We should have beyond a reasonable doubt now."
"We didn't before?"
The lead CSI actually looked her in the eyes for his answer, "Someone thought we didn't. They had Doc Robbins make a hundred percent sure that Nick didn't possibly pull the trigger and kill Kelly."
Catherine cocked her head to the said, wheels cranking, "But who…"
The light bulb came on and Grissom could do nothing more than stare after the blonde CSI as she stormed off from the room. He watched Vega scramble after her, pushing off the wall he had been leaning on. Sophia walked towards his with questions in his eyes. Grissom shook his head and turned back to the computers.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Vartann walked with his head downward. It was an odd sight to most of the cops on the scene. They weren't used to seeing one of their top detectives walking so dejected. Some of the newer officers tried not to stare at the man, tried to give him something.
Thoughts were warring with themselves in his head. Vartann felt guilty, felt behind in everything. He had been the one at the scene where Warrick had been taken. Something could have been done, something could have been said. He also blamed himself for the loss of Nick. Now, he was second guessing everything he was doing.
He wanted nothing more than to be at the lab with the other three detectives solving the problems to where the two CSI's were taken to. But he had to deal with the serial murders that were still going on around the city. It didn't seem like there was an end coming to any of it.
David had already come and collected the body. Two members of the swing shift were walking around, trying to figure out what had happened. Vartann wanted to tell them they weren't going to get anywhere. If graveyard was in the dark on what was going on, there was no way the new swing shift was going to be able to figure it out.
She had been shot in the lower back, the back of the neck. It was the same as before. And her shoes were taken off her feet. They were tied together by the laces and flung to the side of the body, about four feet away. Vartann really didn't get the shoe thing, other than it could prove the same person did most of these killings.
Shaking his head, Vartann huffed a breath and stopped in his tracks. He could hear the radios crackling behind him from the different police cars. No one was running to get the full story on any of the gibberish, so no good news. And no bad news either than.
The sun was going to come up soon. He looked up to the sky and almost cursed the warm rays of pinks, oranges, and reds coming across through the darkness. Soon people would be waking up from their beds and not even be aware of all that had happened while they slept in their warm beds. None would know the new fears consuming the city of sin.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Nick blinked his eyes quickly. He had been sure he had been knocked unconscious, but he was still on his feet, still aware of what was going on around him. The breath, the hand…they were gone. Went off into nothing.
He pinched his lips together, brown eyes locked forward on the brighter door in front of him. Shadows began to move in his perception vision. A chill of fear shot through his body, but Nick was determined to play this stronger than he had before. He would show them little to no fear for as long as humanly possible.
Something shifted close to his back. Nick could literally feel the heat from the object. And from the way it was equally spread from his calves to the back of his shoulders, Nick was pretty certain it was a person. And a large one at that. Tenner wasn't behind him anymore.
His hands automatically formed fists and his body tensed up for a fight. If he could take some of these assholes out now, he was going to go for it. Nick noticed the shadows were beginning to take shapes, human shapes as they came closer. And he noticed the damn back cloaks.
"I don't think so," Nick mumbled under his breath as he brought his arms up, elbows bending.
The body directly behind him must have been anticipating the move because two large, bear sized around wrapped themselves around Nick from behind. Nick didn't have time to move his arms up any further, hands trapped down by his hips. But the CSI wasn't going to just sit there and take it.
Nick moved his head forward quickly, chin touching his chest. Exhaling, he threw his head back as hard as he could. The back of his skull connected with a bright flash of lights and cursing. Both arms let go of his body and Nick stumbled forward.
He didn't bother looking back at the man behind him, but turned to the next quickest advancing body. The cloak bellowed out from the figure and Nick had a hard time trying to figure out how big the person really was. For all he knew, this could be a woman. But he wasn't about to pay too much attention. His and Warrick's lives were at stake in this one.
Pulling his arm back tight against his body, Nick shot his fist out hard and fast. The bones of his knuckles collided with what felt to be a cheek bone underneath the black cloth. And it seemed to be enough as that person dropped backwards like a stone.
A pale hand gripped hard around his upper, right arm. Nick made a quick turn, using his body weight to pull the person in closer. His left fist was waiting and slammed hard into the unprotected abdomen of whoever it was. From the deep moan, the guy wasn't appreciative of the hit. Nick gave him another one, this time with his right fist in the side.
Nick had a couple of quick flashes back to when Warrick and he had fought off a bunch of these goons back in his house. He kept his eyes peeled for anything shiny in the little amounts of light. And Nick kept his body moving so it would be harder for someone to come up behind him in a sneak attack.
Two of the cloaks finally decided it might be a good idea to try rushing the CSI at once. One came in from the front, the other from the far left. Nick shifted his weight and prayed his flexibility hadn't gotten too bad. He hadn't done this kind of things since back when he had been in the police academy. The sole of his right boot stopped the front incomer up short and hard, his right fist smashing into the other.
But he had left himself wide open with his offensive attack. Large Arms was back and Nick had a feeling he was extremely pissed. A massive arm swept down over his face when Nick was still trying to recover his balance from the kick. It locked hard around his neck. Both his hands instinctively when up to grip at it. Large Arms wasn't taking it nice and easy this time.
The choke hold was getting tighter. Nick couldn't work any of his fingers between the flesh of the arm and his throat. He could feel the sensitive tube in his throat getting pinched off. His Adam's apple was slammed backwards. Tiny yellow spots began to appear in front of his eyes, shooting off against the blackness of the room.
"Don't kill him. Or knock him out for that matter. I want him awake for this."
Through the haze that began to take over his brain, Nick barely made out the words. The arm was removed and his legs let go like jelly. Nick fell forward, landing hard on his knees. His lungs worked hard to pull in as much oxygen as they could through the dusty air. He was roughly pulled upward, hacking coughs erupting from his chest.
Nick's eyes watered and made things blurry. A figure was no directly in front of him. Large Arms had to be the one right behind him, holding him in a locking grip. Two meaty hands held his upper arms tightly against his torso. Nick didn't have a lot of squirming room.
The sweet breath was back, "Now Nick. You should know what happens when you try to fight me. You always get hurt in some form. That's not what I'm here to do, you know."
"Could'a fooled…me," Nick barked out around his coughing and gasping.
Tenner reached up and placed a cool hand against Nick's left cheek, "Come. We have much to discuss and go over. You can get some water for your throat as well then."
Confusion swarmed in with his other emotions as Nick was pushed forward. He scrambled to keep his feet under him for a couple of steps before figuring out how to walk the best in such a hold. The man behind him would often catch his boot heels as they walked, which Nick was sure was on purpose.
He could make out the door frame as they walked through it, but like the room they had just left, there was no strong light form. Nick squinted his eyes a little, but it didn't do much for helping. His throat burned, but he was able to breath closer to normal now. It was easier just to let Large Arms lead him along.
Nick observed the back of Tenner's head, to the best of his ability. The hair seemed to be as gray as before and the man was still smaller than him. It was no problem coming to the conclusion that Nick could crush the guy in a one-on-one.
They came up to another door frame, but this one actually had a closed door to it. Nick looked down and could see light from underneath this one. And when Tenner threw it open, Nick had to close his eyes against the brightness of it. He was still pushed forward, but Nick wanted to allow his eyes the most time to adjust to the new conditions.
A strained mumbling was enough to force him to open his eyes, "Warrick!"
Now Nick threw his weight against the hands holding him. He couldn't still see the best, but there was no mistaking his best friend sitting tied up in front of three large lamps. The other CSI was gagged with a white cloth wrapped around his head. And there were several loops of rope wrapped around his middle section.
"Yes, your precious friend is here. And not too badly hurt at that," Tenner remarked as he walked over to the first lamp, flipping it off.
With his eyes more clearly adjusted, Nick could make out the bruises and cuts on Warrick face. Anger swelled up in his body and he threw his weight against the hands again. They slipped a little so Nick tried it again. One hand let go. But Nick's victory was cut short. A fist landed hard against his spine, just below his neck.
The blow was enough to slam the Texan back down on already sore knees. A wheeze escaped his lips and he could just make out the sounds of Warrick fighting against his bonds some more. Nick pushed himself up so his weight was resting on his lower legs in his kneeling position, his hand coming up to wipe at his mouth.
"You have me now. You can let him go."
Tenner smiled at the fallen man, "You'd like that wouldn't you. But I don't seem to remember that being part of our agreement. You both can stay. Friends should always be there to help the other out in such situations. Wouldn't you agree?"
"But you told me it was me you wanted. Not Warrick. Let him go."
"And what?" Tenner stomped over to Nick, "And let him go back to Vegas and tell everyone where we are? I think not. You both are going to die here. Whether you like it or not."
"But why? You lost before. Let it go," Nick said.
"I lost twice, not once. And I refuse to lose for a third time. The number three is bad luck to me in too many ways. I refuse to let it win on this occasion."
Nick shook his head, clearing it for what he thought to be bad hearing, "Two times?"
Another lamp was switched off in front of Warrick. Nick could see him blinking against the different changes in lighting. The other man's lips were pulled back hard by the cloth. There was a large bruise forming around Warrick's left eye.
"Yes. Well, only one that I did on my own. The second, I put too much trust into him. He should have gotten the job done. It was luck and he let it all go. Fool he was. But he will suffer through all eternity."
"I don't understand," Nick looked down at the floor, sounding like a young, lost child.
He could see Tenner's dark pants when the man kneeled in front of him. The hands were still cool when they reached up and cradled his face between them. Nick tried to react, but as soon as his hands moved, they were wrapped up in coils of rough rope. And there was no pulling his face away. Both thumbs stroked over his cheek bones, a soft look coming over Tenner's face.
"I wouldn't expect you to. It was pure luck he got you and no one else. There was no real way to plan it to get someone specific. All I could offer was finance and some friendly advice. But he took it all into the personal range. It's what ended it all and let you live."
Nick's eyes widened and he breathed out, "No."
"Yes. Walter Gordon wasn't supposed to blow only himself up. And you weren't supposed to live once he put you in that box. I watched the whole thing as well. Both scenes. You were supposed to die that day, in that underground hell. Now, it's my turn again to make sure it happens for real this time."
TBC…