The only source of light was the fireplace, the flames flickering as the wood slowly deteriorated from the heat. Not necessarily from the fire, sweat beads clung to his muscular body as he laid in bed, thoroughly exhausted but extremely happy at the same time. He looked up at the white ceiling, his mind wandering until he felt a soft hand run up his chest.
"Warrick."
His eyes snapped open and he almost fell of the couch when he saw Catherine staring down at him, smirking.
Standing up, he smoothed out his wrinkled clothes, then looked at the white Styrofoam boxes she held in her hands. Pointing the boxes with high hopes, he asked "What's in there?"
"Dinner," she said, setting the boxes down on the table. "I got you the Teriyaki steak, I forgot what you liked," she said apologetically as she handed him the box.
He loved the Teriyaki steak. It was his favorite meal, but he just nodded and took the box. "Thanks, Cath," he said, silently chiding himself about his dream.
"I smell food," Nick said, walking in. He took a box Catherine handed him, sitting down next to Warrick and opening the plastic bag that held the silverware. "So what's new?" Nick said, his mouth half full with food.
"Still on the Melissa Jones case," Catherine replied, setting the remaining boxes in front of the three remaining seats. She took one of those seats, sitting on Warrick's other side and opening her box to look at the small salad she had ordered.
Sara was the next to walk in. "Thanks Cath," she said, sitting down after Catherine motioned to what box was her's. Sara took a bite of her salad, thankful that Catherine had found a restaurant that had salad without meat.
"Did you already close your case?" Catherine asked, looking at Nick and Sara.
They both nodded, but it was Nick who answered. "Yeah. The guy was in the system and he left his fingerprints all over the place. I think it's a new record, actually," Nick said, glancing at Warrick with a smirk. "Took us two days to get the guy."
Catherine smiled. The competitiveness between the two guys was what made their friendship so strong. Exchanging an amused glance with Sara, they looked on as Nick and Warrick made a $15 bet on who would win the baseball game tonight.
"Nick, Sara, you've got another homicide. Home invasion gone bad," Grissom said the moment he walked into the break room.
"Good evening to you too," Nick said, taking the folder Grissom held out. He opened it and took a look at it, Sara leaning over so she could see also.
Turning to Catherine and Warrick, he pointed at them. "You're still on the Jones case?" he asked, as if too make sure that he was still on the same page as everyone else.
"Yeah," they said, nodding their heads.
"Okay. Then I'll take this case," he said, bringing the last folder he held to his chest.
Warrick glanced at the clock, slapped his hands on the table, and stood up. "Here we go again," he said, meaning their shift had started.
Nick and Sara headed out first, and Warrick held the door open for Catherine as they headed back into tears, grief, and just flat out chaos.
"So I took a look at her phone records," Warrick said as they entered a room where all the things of Melissa's were located. Along with the phone records, which he had moved into this room before he had fallen asleep. "And there's a consistent pattern of phone calls almost once a week, and sometimes everyday," he said, pointing to the numbers he highlighted in pink. "It's not Mr. Beam's number," he said, motioning to the other, less frequent numbers that he highlighted in yellow. "But those are."
"Okay," Catherine said slowly, thinking aloud. "So someone who's not Nicholas calls her more frequently than he does. Did you check up on the number?" she asked, looking up at him.
He shook his head. "But Hodges told me that the skin under the vic's fingernails was a female's," he said, letting it sink in.
"Nothing like a cat fight, but over what?" Catherine said, looking at the pictures of Melissa from autopsy.
"How long does it take to refuse a date to the bar?" Warrick asked, looking closer at the phone records.
Catherine leaned over, resting a hand on his shoulder so she could get a closer look. "Thirty minutes tops," she said, realizing where Warrick was going with this. "An hour and a half is pushing it."
"Let's get Mr. Beam in here," Warrick said, turning to find Brass. But he didn't need too, because the Captain walked in right then.
"There'll be no need, Mr. Beam is already here," he said, then looked at Catherine. "And he's looking for you."
Catherine raised her eyebrows, exchanging looks with Warrick. Nonetheless, she followed Brass to the interrogation room, stepping inside and nodding to Mr. Beam.
He stood up impatiently, looking very flustered. "My ex-wife has contacted me," he said. "She's demanding to see Jason."
"Mr. Beam, what were you talking to Melissa about for an hour and a half the night of her death?" Catherine asked, sitting down.
"What?" he said breathlessly, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. We talked about a lot of things," he said, slamming his hand on the table. "But my son needs protection from that crazy bitch!" he said.
"What did your ex-wife say to you?" Catherine said, folding her hands on the table.
Sitting down impatiently, he sighed heavily. "She said she was in town and that she wanted to see Jason," he said calmly, but then started sounding frantic again. "Jason needs to be moved to somewhere el-"
"Are you sure your wife's just not bluffing?" Catherine asked. She had heard of mothers who had wanted back in their child's life after they had abandoned them.
"She knew the layout of my house," he said, sounding frightened. "And we've moved since she left, and we aren't listed in the phone book."
The door opened, and Warrick walked in. He had the phone listings in his hand. Setting them in front of Mr. Beam, he pointed to the number highlighted in pink. "Mr. Beam, do you have caller i.d.?"
"Yeah," he said, sound skeptical. "But what does that have to do with-"
"Do you recognize this number?" Warrick said, motioning to the phone number in pink.
"Yeah. That's the number my ex-wife called me on!" he said frantically, standing up. "Did she contact Melissa. Did she hurt her?!"
Warrick and Catherine exchanged frantic glances. Catherine leaned forward. "Mr. Beam, are you sure this is the number your ex called you on?" she asked, she didn't want to make some arrests unless he was absolutely certain.
"I'm positive!" he exclaimed, standing up again. "I know because I blocked her number after I hung up on her!"
Catherine stood up, and Warrick left the room quickly. "We'll get your ex-wife, Mr. Beam, where's Jason now?" she asked, leading Mr. Beam out of the room.
"He's...He's at home with a babysitter," he said, sighing heavily. "I can't believe this. Did she hurt Melissa?" he asked frantically as they walked out into the parking lot.
"That's what we're going to find out, Mr. Beam," she said as he got into his car. But then he started to sob, and a pang of sympathy hit Catherine. "I'll drive you home," she said, motioning for him to get into the passenger's seat. "I'll have a co-worker pick me up at your house."
"Thank. You." he said in between sobs, getting out of the driver's seat and walking around the car to get in the passenger's seat.
Catherine got in, then called Warrick and told him to pick her up at the Beam household in about fifteen minutes. As she pulled out of the drive, she glanced at Mr. Beam. "Everything will be okay, Mr. Beam," she said, smiling weakly.
He nodded profusely, as if it took a lot of effort to believe it.
A few minutes later they arrived at his home, and Catherine's heart sunk as she stared at his home. The front door was wide open.
"Jason!" Mr. Beam yelled, getting out of the car and running into the house. "Jason!"
"Mr. Beam!" Catherine called, pulling out her gun and following him inside the house. Everything was silent. She no longer heard Mr. Beam, or even footsteps against the wooden floors. She cleared the kitchen and the bathroom and made her way down the hallway.
She saw a few drops of blood on the floor. She pulled out her cell phone, dialing a number and holding the phone to her ear.
"Drop it!"
The firm command made Catherine twirl around, seeing a woman standing in the middle of the hallway, a gun held to Jason's head. The boy was sobbing heavily, saying something that Catherine couldn't hear.
She dropped the gun, listening to it rattle on the wooden floor with a sort of despair overwhelming her. Dammit.
"Drop the phone too!" the woman yelled, and Catherine did so.
Catherine held her hands up, shifting her position slightly. "Are you Jason's mother?" she asked calmly, trying not to look at the crying child.
"Yeah. And he's going with me!" she said, holding him tighter.
"Jason is Nicholas Beam's son now," she said loudly, glancing down at the items she had been forced to drop.
"No!" she said, pointing the gun at Catherine. "He's my son! Mine!" She sounded desperate, and Catherine could tell the woman herself was on the brink of tears. Glancing down at her son, she cooed to him. "Shh, it's okay hunny, don't cry." This didn't seem to help, as the boy only cried louder.
"Look. Mrs...Beam," she said, walking a few steps to the right. "My name is Catherine Willows, I'm with the-"
"I don't give a fuck who you are!" she screamed, a tear rolling down her cheek. "This is my son. And he's coming with me and you're not going to stop me!" she yelled, flailing her gun around. "That little bitch tried to take my place, but I took care of her!" she said, cackling.
"Freeze!" Warrick now entered the house, facing Mrs. Beam's back. "Put down your weapon now!"
She pushed her son down to the ground, then turned around quickly and shot at Warrick. Luckily she missed, but it distracted him long enough that she charged down the hallway, pushing down Catherine and busting out the back door and into the night.
"Cath!" Warrick said, rushing over to her after he checked out the kid. "You alright?"
"I'm fine," she said, accepting the hand Warrick offered and being hauled to her feet. She went over to Jason and gathered him in her arms, cooing to him and hugging him tightly.
Warrick disappeared into the other room, then came back out with the cell phone glued to his ear. "This is CSI Brown, I need a bus immediately," he said. When Catherine looked up at him quizzically, he motioned to the room he had entered moments before. "Mr. Beam is knocked out cold, he'll be alright though."
"Thank God," Catherine said, still holding the sobbing child tight.