Yay! I posted Chapter five evil laugh enjoy everybody...

Chapter 5

Everything was quiet, and it was almost 10:00 when they got there. The yellow caution tape was still up, and the other houses were quiet. It could almost be described as calm, though Catherine seriously doubted there was such thing as calm in Las Vegas. "Did anyone talk to the neighbors?" she wondered aloud as she took out her kit.

"I think Sara did." Nick replied. "They said they didn't hear anything."

"So our killer knows how to work quietly also. Great." Catherine grinned at him. "I got upstairs. You can check downstairs."

Nick ducked under the caution tape. "Why do I always get the boring jobs?"

She chuckled. "See you in a bit," She said, as she climbed the stairs to the dark upstairs level. If there was one thing to be said about this house, it was that it was dark, quiet, and big. Lindsey would definitely not like it. To tell the truth, neither did Catherine. Cases like this scared her. They always made her think what she would do if it happened to Lindsey. Her daughter was so young, just like the four victims of this monster. She always chose to avoid talking to the parents of young rape victims. They frightened her. She never wanted to be in the kind of emotional pain they were in. Her daughter was her life, and she would do anything for her.

She pushed open the girl's bedroom door and stepped inside, closing the door behind her, though not quite knowing why she did it. The girl's room was also dark. It was no wonder that the girl did not notice her attacker. On the right wall was the closet, on the left, a big window with thick shades that blocked out any light from the distant Strip or other houses. Catherine surveyed the scene for a moment, not being able to stop herself from thinking that going over this again was pointless. She finally decided to start with the bed. As expected, she didn't find anything, no semen, no fibers, nothing. Sighing, she knelt down and lifted up the bottom of the covers to look under the bed and shone her flashlight around. It looked just like it had looke the first time they processed the scene. The first cursory sweep of her flashlight yeilded nothing, but upon closer inspection of the leg closest to the bedside table, she thought she could make out a small box. Stretching her hand out, she took it and stood up. It was a tape recorder. How could they have missed that? She was quite sure there was nothing there last time, then again, it had looked almost as if it was part of the leg.

Almost apprehensively, she pressed the rewind button. Part of her feared to hear what was on the tape. Was it a suicide note the killer made her do? Or had the killer taped the whole thing to mock them? Or had the girl pressed record without the killer knowing? It clicked, and she pressed play.

A whimper and a scared sounding female voice. "Who are you?" Catherine grimaced in pity for the girl. Her thoughts wandered to Lindsey and she shook her head angrily to get them out. She would never let such a thing happen to Lindsey, but she couldn't help thinking about how she was never home at night.

The killer did not answer the girl's question, but Catherine heard a gasp followed the sound of fabric tearing and a scream that was quickly cut off by a slapping sound. Catherine looked at the cieling, biting her lip to keep images of Lindsey from flashing through her mind.

Suddenly, she felt metal against the back of her neck. "Push stop and put it down," Came an unfamiliar male voice. Catherine was jerked away from her musings, but fear registered slowly. It was only when he pressed harder against the nape of her neck that she complied. Trying to stop herself from shaking, she did the only thing that made sense and set it down on the bedside table before her.

Nick surveyed the living room, slightly put out. Nothing seemed out of order, Nick noted, eyes scanning the black leather couches and the expensive plasma screen TV. He sighed inwardly, doubting very much that there would be anything interesting here. The killer probably didn't even come into the living room. Most likely, they didn't even go downstairs. But he was not one to question protocol. A little annoyed, he knelt down and shone his flashlight along the couch and underneath. Nothing. The kitchen was next. Once again, he found nothing.

Yawning, he made his way up the stairs. He'd gotten the sleep he wanted, but that didn't prevent him from being tired. Back in the lab it had seemed a good idea to come back and have another look around, but now he doubted they would find anything. If the other murders were anything to go by, all they would find in the course of thier investigation was the girl's body. He wanted very much to catch the killer, but he was frustrated, along with the rest of the team. Yawning again, he forced away thoughts of dispair and focused on climbing the stairs, automatically listening for anything that might help. It was too quiet in this neighborhood. How could the neighbors not have noticed something? This house was too dark and big. Bad combination. It was also very quiet. There was no bubble of a fish tank, the hum of the refrigerator was muted, and the fans were probably just as silent. Why did he hear voices then?

It was true. He thought he could hear the murmur of voices from the girl's bedroom, and it did not sound like Catherine. He stopped his musings and pressed himself against the hallway wall. There were definitely people speaking in the girl's bedroom. Heart pounding, he drew his gun and listened. He could not make out the words they were saying, but he heard Catherine's voice, and it sounded scared. The door was right next to him, and he inched towards it before leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes for a moment. Going in probably wasn't the best decision, but if they were meaning to kill her, they would have done it already, and he had no idea how long it would take Grissom to get there. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and kicked the door open, swinging around and pointing his gun into the room.

He froze. Catherine stood by the girl's bedside table, a gun to her head and a dark figure standing directly behind her with one hand across her chest. The worst part was when he heard the door close behind him and felt a second gun being put up to his temple. "Drop the gun," The man standing behind Catherine said to him in a threatening hiss.

TBC... Everyone loves reviews...