Laws of Motion – Book 3
Written by: Ms. Maggs/Edited by: KJT
Chapter 3
Sunday, September 25, 2006
The Campbell Residence
3:21 p.m.
"All clear, Gris!" Nick announced from Celine's bathroom. "The closet too. What about you?"
"No shoe, but I just found condoms, edible body mousse, an assortment of thongs, and a dozen Xanax."
"Just what every fourteen year old girl needs." When Nick entered the bedroom he asked in amazement, "You mean she wasn't even hidin' that stuff? You found it right in her dresser drawers?"
"I take it you didn't stow your porn in your dresser when you were a teen?"
"Are you kiddin', I was too chicken to keep it in the house. I had this great place in the barn. It was the perfect study environment, real quiet except for the occasional whiney." Smiling at the memory he said, "To this day the smell of horse shit gets me randy."
"You had to hide your porn because you knew your parents would check your room. It's become abundantly clear that Bruce Campbell didn't care what his daughters were doing."
"Why the hell do people have kids if they don't have time for them?"
"Propagation of the species?" Gil opened the last drawer to be searched. "Maybe Mr. Campbell had children out of expectation, or to carry on the bloodline, or fill a societal norm. He probably thinks he's a terrific parent, sending them to an expensive school and providing for their every need."
"Every need except safety, which is a big one in my book. At least my folks hired someone to watch me and actually believed I was in good hands the night they left me with Shelly. Bruce Campbell left his daughters alone and according to Nina's friend Greer, he wouldn't even check-in. The drill was…'you have my cell if you need to reach me and it better be important if you interrupt me'. Hell, even Andy checked on the kids when he was havin' an affair with Tawny and he knew they were safe at home with Lissa." When he saw Grissom staring at him, Nick said, "Sorry if I sound too judgmental, but this scenario triggers one of my hot buttons and the more shit we find here, like the Xanax and the condoms, the more patience I lose."
"We all have our triggers." Pulling off his gloves Grissom said, "One of my triggers just bought the house across the street from me."
"I decided not to call Greg and tell him where Marlene moved or that Mike Rodgers is now officially his father-in-law. I figured, why ruin their good time, they'll find out soon enough."
"I agree." Walking out of the room Grissom grabbed his cell. "I'll check in with Archie, while you speak with Talia regarding Celine."
"If Celine's in shock now, I wonder how she's gonna cope when she goes into the foster care system." Nick followed Grissom down the hall. "Talia said even with Campbell's money, there's no way he'll get to keep custody until he demonstrates due diligence. According to Greer, there aren't any other relatives. Can you imagine goin' from all this with no supervision, to livin' with rules in a meager home? Talk about culture shock."
The Vartanns – San Diego
3:40 p.m.
"This is it," Tony declared as he parked the Ferrari in front of his brother's humble eleven hundred square foot home. "How cute, it looks like a cheery dollhouse." Grabbing her Prada bag, Becca exited the vehicle. "I've always wanted to go inside one of these."
"I think you'll be pleasantly surprised." Taking his wife's hand, he strolled her up to the picket fence. "It was a serious fixer-upper, but Reg and Gina have done a ton of work on it." They were meeting his folks to help cook meals that would be frozen for the new parents to have on hand during the exhaustive first weeks baby care. "About the house, try not to sound…"
"Snobby?"
"Shocked." Walking her up to the door he whispered, "And try not to mention that your house in San Marino is literally five times bigger."
"I promise." She pecked his cheek while thinking, 'I can't believe two adults, a baby, and a Golden Retriever share a house that's smaller than my master bedroom suite!'
"We're here!" Tony yelled through the screen door.
Dennis eagerly greeted them wearing an apron that read 'I don't need a recipe, I'm Italian!' "You're just in time for the lasagna assembly line."
"Great!" Becca enthused as much as the Xanax would permit. "Wow! This place is fabulous! Gina has a terrific sense of color, and how cool will it be for little Sierra to grow up only blocks from beach? I would have loved that. Hell, I would have settled for having two parents who actually made time to take me to the beach."
Tony winked, signaling he thought she had done a good job pretending it would be fun to live in what had to feel like a shack to her.
Taking her daughter-in-law's hand, Marge whisked her into the kitchen. "Look here, Honey. Since you have such a flair for fashion, when we went to the store, I bought you the cutest retro apron."
"Thanks, Mrs. V, it's very chic, but why would I need it?" Why would anyone?
Staring at the well-dressed young lady, the mother chuckled, "So you wouldn't mess up your pretty outfit when we're cooking, dear." After handing it over, she donned her apron that said 'This Is What a Cool Grandma Looks Like'.
Becca started laughing. "I'm sorry, but if Reggie and Gina really love this house, then it's best that I stay out of the kitchen. It would be a shame for the place to burn down before Sierra even spends a night here."
"She's never cooked, Ma."
"Never?" Marge laughed in her son's direction. "You can't be serious."
"He's exaggerating." Becca rolled her eyes. "I've made coffee, sliced fruits and vegetables, and toasted things."
Stunned by the reply, Marge stood, clutching the fridge's handle. "But cooking is a joy."
"I think you've been hoodwinked, Mrs. V. Think about it…if it's such a joy, then why over the entire course of history have servants done the cooking instead of the rich?"
"Here." The ever-optimistic woman placed the apron over Becca's head. "By the time I'm through with you, you'll want your own set of Calphalon."
"And what would that be exactly?"
"I'll translate, Mom." Tony tied his wife's apron strings and explained, "Calphalon is the Versace of pots and pans, Becks."
"Right!" Putting on her best smile, Becca said, "I can't guarantee I'll enjoy it, but since I'm part of Team Vartann, I'm willing to take my place in the lasagna assembly line."
"That's the spirit, Honey!" Tony kissed her cheek before pulling on his brother's apron, which was decorated with flames and the words 'Firemen never let dinner burn'. "Baby, do you think this makes me look hot?"
"Actually, another word comes to mind…flaming."
Nick and Carrie's
3:53 p.m.
Ringing the doorbell, Jillian Stokes took a deep breath in preparation for facing her lesbian daughter for the first time since the shocking revelation.
"Jillian!" Carrie welcomed her future mother-in-law with a loving hug. "I've been really worried about you. Andy told us that you've been keeping to yourself since…the incident."
"Thank you for the warm welcome, Sugar." Jillian savored the embrace. "Are Nicky and Katie here?"
"Nicky's working, and Katie is walking Binda in the park with Jean. Do you want to come in and chat?"
"I'd love that, thank you."
Carrie led the way to the family room. "Excuse all the shoes. I'm auctioning them on Ebay to raise money for BPAC."
"What made you go and do that?"
"It's a long story actually, but the short of it is, I realized there are far better things to do with my money than drop seven hundred dollars on shoes I may only wear once a year."
Jillian bit her tongue to stop herself from exclaiming 'Hallelujah! She's seen the light!'
"Would you like some ice water or tea?"
"Your ear and shoulder are what I truly need…and your experience with families in crisis." Taking a seat on the couch the exhausted mother sighed. "Andrew thinks I've been holed up in the guestroom because I'm embarrassed about Katie. He's only half right. I'm embarrassed, but not about Katie. Until recently I was very proud of the job I did raising my children, but in this last month I've come to realize I was far from perfect. Nicky's abuse, Andy's issues, and now Katie hiding her sexual orientation, I'm afraid I wasn't the mother I thought I was."
"I think you're being way too hard on yourself," Carrie soothed.
"I left my youngest child in the care of a pedophile. I ignored the signs that my eldest son was having problems in his marriage when I knew in my gut something was wrong, and how good of a mother could I be if my daughter had to live a lie for fear of how I'd treat her? As Nicky would say, the evidence doesn't lie and it's all pointing to the conclusion that I'm sub par."
"Jillian." Carrie reached for her hand. "I know it seems that way because you're learning about all of these things at the same time, but you have to look at the big picture and see how terrific you truly are. I know it's not easy. It took my mom a while to shift her focus from the bad to the good. You should know, even though what happened to me was horrific, I never hated my mother for it. I loved her for getting me the help I needed when the time came and for the million other things she did right, from little things like cutting the crusts off my PB&J sandwich and making me Halloween costumes, to the big stuff."
"How can I focus on the big picture when I'm scared to death thinkin' there are more mistakes I've made that I haven't figured out yet?" Dabbing her eyes Jillian cried as her heart grew heavier. "I already know about three, how many more of my children did I fail in some capacity?"
The Campbell Residence
4:06 p.m.
"Celine!" Bruce Campbell screamed as officers escorted him into his palatial home. "Celine!" Grief-stricken over the death of his eldest daughter, who he had just viewed at the morgue, he raced for the stairs. "Where is she!"
"Sir!" Officer Suarez blocked the frantic man at. "To protect the crime scene, the officers need to escort you."
"This is my home!" At six foot five, the forty-four year old former athlete towered over the cop. "I want…"
"Mr. Campbell!" Grissom walked forward to meet him. "I'm Gil Grissom, the Master Criminalist for the Las Vegas Police Department and the lead on the investigation. I'm very sorry for your loss. If you'll come with me I'll take you to Celine."
"Thank you." The panting man ran his palm over his disheveled blond hair. "Is she alright?"
"She's not injured," Grissom calmly replied as he led the way down the hall. "The officers responding to the 911 call found her hiding under her bed exhibiting classic symptoms of shock." Turning the corner he pointed. "Second door."
Standing in the doorway, he watched his daughter rocking in an armchair as she clutched the grey blanket around her shoulders. "Princess…"
The distant sound of her father's voice caught Celine's ear. "Daddy…"
"I'm home." If only it had been twenty-four hours earlier. "I'm so sorry, Princess." Tears formed in his eyes for the second time in decades, the first had been an hour before when the coroner pulled back a cheap white sheet to reveal his daughter's colorless face.
"Daddy." The haze lifted and suddenly he materialized before her eyes. "Daddy!" She rushed into his arms. "Nina's dead! He killed her! She's dead!"
"Who killed her?" he cried, gripping her tight.
Panting in fear, tears spilled down her cheeks. "Tag Heuer."
From the hallway, Gil observed the emotional interaction with a keen eye. Much to his surprise, it wasn't the scene he had envisioned. Bruce Campbell didn't appear to be a heartless, inattentive parent. Clutching his terrified daughter and sobbing, he seemed to be a loving, heartbroken father. Then he remembered the overwhelming evidence of neglect and his disgust returned.
"Gris…" Before Nick could finish, Gil brought a finger to his lips, prompting silence.
Peering into the room, Nick saw who he recognized from photos as Bruce Campbell. Bawling his eyes out, the man didn't look anything like the hardass casino owner he was reputed to be. "Sorry," he whispered to Grissom. "When you have a sec, I have an update from Archie." He couldn't peel his eyes off the grieving father and for a moment he felt bad for all the bashing of the man he had done since arriving. Then he remembered Nina's blood-drained body and the illicit items found in a fourteen year old's bedroom and he loathed the negligent man all over again. Too little too late, Mr. Campbell.
"That's Ryan's uncle," Celine cried against her father's chest. "Over there." With a shaky finger she pointed. "I think he tried to help me."
Bruce followed his daughter's direction. "Thank you."
"Nick Stokes." He stepped forward nodding. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Sir." Looking to Celine he quietly asked, "Are you up to answering a few questions now?" When she nodded he stepped forward. "I'll make this as quick as possible."
Gil followed and made himself invisible in the corner of the room.
"Celine, you keep sayin' 'Tag Heuer'. Why is that?"
The memory of the guy pawing Nina on the couch flashed in her head. "He has a Tag Heuer watch."
"Who?"
In between tears she replied, "The guy who killed my sister…Charlie."
"Did you see him kill her?"
Wiping her tears, she shook her head. "Nina was…already dead when I went into her room this morning, but I heard him in the bathroom. I heard him say, 'Hey, Baby! Charlie needs some TLC." If only she hadn't gone back to pick the lock so she could swipe the Tag Heuer. "Do you think he was going to…even after she was dead?"
"Who is Charlie?" Bruce demanded, his tears halting as rage welled within.
"Her date, Daddy…she met him at the Royale. He's staying there."
Stepping out of the corner, Gil held up his hand. "We don't know who killed your daughter yet, Mr. Campbell. Charlie Dwyer is…"
"Where is this bastard!" Bruce snarled. The look on the investigator's face gave away the answer. "He's here. Where!"
"I'm afraid you can't converse with…sir!" Watching the outraged man walk out of the room he yelled, "Mr. Campbell! You could compromise the investigation if…Officers!"
Gil and Nick rushed after the father, who was no doubt on a mission to confront who he thought was his daughter's killer.
"Stop him!" Gil ordered the cops.
"Where is he!" With three uniformed men trying to restrain him Bruce fought back. "I want to look him in the eyes and…"
"Mr. Campbell!" Gil shouted. "Celine needs you! And you're not going to be able to help her from behind bars!" When the man yielded, he added, "Let's do our jobs…you comfort your daughter, and let me find your daughter's killer."
Looking down the hall Bruce saw Celine was gripping the investigator who had introduced himself as Nick Stokes. "It's okay, Princess. We'll get our chance." If not here, or in the courts, we'll get it on the streets, the old fashioned way. "You can let go of me now, Officer. I promise to take my daughter and not return until you're through."
"Uh…" Nick was grateful Talia was at his side to do the explaining.
"Mr. Campbell, I'm Talia Brooks from Child Protective Services. Due to the circumstances, Celine has been placed in protective custody on the grounds of child endangerment. Also, there is another issue, your daughter had approximately fifteen thousand dollars worth of cash and jewelry in her room when we found her, all of which was reported stolen from her sister's party guests."
"What the hell are you talking about!" Bruce shouted. "How would I possibly endanger my daughter! And why on Earth would she need to steal anything! She has the world at her fingertips!"
Oh, now you're worried about your daughter's safety! Nick bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. And you can't imagine how you could you endanger her? Give me a friggin' break! Look at the house you left her in for the weekend! Drugs, booze, and sleazy guys are everywhere! Which one of those things do you think is good for your fourteen year old daughter, you ignorant shithead! What you need is…deep breath, Stokes…deep breath…ten, nine…
"Sir!" Keeping her cool, Talia reiterated, "I'm sorry, but you will not be permitted to take her anywhere. You will be able to visit with her as long I or another member of the CPS team is present and…"
"Bullshit!" Bruce grabbed his cell to phone his attorney. "If you think I'm going to let you take my daughter out of my sight, you're insane! Celine!"
"Daddy!" She ran forward, but was stopped by the officers. "Get out of my way! I want to go with my father!"
"I'm sorry." Talia took her by the elbow. "Not right now, dear." Before she knew what hit her, the teen had decked her square in the jaw.
"Don't touch me again, Lady!" Celine started kicking the frumpy old woman. "Get out of my house! All of you! Do you hear me! Get the hell out!"
As six more officers whizzed by to help restrain Celine and Bruce, Nick hurried to help the social worker off the floor. "Talia…is anything broken?"
"My…" The woman grabbed her abdomen. "She knocked out my insulin pump."
"Daddy! Don't let them take me!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Gil saw Sara was standing at the end of the hall watching the drama with a vacant look on her face and a single tear slipping down her cheek. He had no doubt she was reliving the memory of her mother being hauled away as she was handed over to social services.
"Don't worry, Princess!" Bruce screamed as four cops pinned him to the wall. "I'll have you back in no time and we'll sue every god damn one of these bastards for police brutality!"
The Vartanns – San Diego
4:17 p.m.
"Ma'am." Tony tipped his non-existent police hat at his wife. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to arrest you for murder." He pointed to the onion she was chopping. "Your technique is killing me."
After checking to make sure his parents were still outside talking to the group of firefighters' wives who had dropped off an array of baked goods, she set down the knife and thrust her hands in the air. "I surrender, but you better frisk me just to make sure I'm not packing heat."
"Oh, you're packing heat alright."
In a Lolita tone, she replied, "Whatever do you mean, Officer?" For the past hour, she had been having the time of her life. Hanging out with Tony's parents reminded her of the fun she used to have at Greg's house when she'd join in family time and temporarily block out that Bev only allowed her to participate because she was using her.
Once he was certain his parents were still occupied, Tony ordered, "Turn around and put your hands on the wall, Ma'am." Like an adorable, needy puppy, Becca was incredibly easy to love, not that he was willing to admit he had been actively loving her for the last hour. "Keep your hands where I can see them," he growled in her ear.
"I have a record, Officer…a really bad one."
Gliding his hands over his wife's silky camisole Tony breathed in her perfume. "What kind of record?"
"I'm 'o' and 'two hundred' when it comes to relationships."
"I believe people can change." Pressing his body against her back, he closed his eyes. "If you need help, I know this wonderful rehabilitation program. The guy who runs it…he's very committed to his work." Grazing her ear lobe with his lips Tony assured, "He won't give up on you."
Relaxing against his broad shoulders, Becca sighed, "Sign me up."
"The program only works if you really want to change."
"I do…I really, really do."
"Why?" He knew the question would result in an answer he was scared to hear.
Ignoring her husband's ban on the 'l' word, she replied, "Because I'm madly in love with a man and I don't want the relationship to end in disaster like all the rest."
"What do you love about him?" he asked, plunging into an emotional danger zone.
"The way he looks at me when he comes home from work." Afraid he'd retreat, she placed her hands over his arms, which were looped around her waist. "I realized I loved him when he didn't walk out on me even though I begged him to go."
"Why do you think he didn't yell?"
"Because he figured out I was only saying it because I was scared. He's a detective, so he's very intuitive, which is nice for a change because my ex was nothing of the sort. Tony…that's my guy's name by the way, he's a renaissance man. He cooks, does laundry…reads in the bathroom." Smiling she added, "And he's romantic. He brings me roses and carries me to the bedroom, albeit banging my head on the doorframe, but it's the thought that counts, and once there…oh, sorry, it wouldn't be appropriate to tell a stranger how mind-blowing the sex is."
"How does he feel about you?" Tony asked through a smile, knowing he was treading into dangerous territory.
"He'll never admit it, but he fell in love with me earlier today while we were making lasagna." When she heard a faint gulp, Becca knew she'd guessed right. "But that's okay, he can take his own sweet time telling me because I'm not going anywhere. Especially not after meeting his family, because I've never had one of those and his is sitcom funny and they give the best hugs, just like him." When he turned her around, Becca met his eyes. "Are you going to arrest me for illegal use of the 'l' word, Officer?"
"I think I'll kiss you instead."
Their lips brushing, she whispered, "I'm having the best time."
"I didn't think you'd fit it, but you do." When their lips parted he murmured, "I…"
"Tony!" Dennis called from the front door. "Reggie's buddy needs help carrying in some boxes!"
Becca gripped her hair. "Finish your thought!"
"I'm really psyched you're fitting in with my family."
"Liar!" Shoving him away, she scolded, "You started with 'I', not "I'm'. You were going to say it!"
"I have to help my dad," he stated, before breaking into a wild grin.
"The moment was perfect!" Becca stomped her foot.
"It was!" Tony laughed as he headed for the door. "Then, just like in high school with Mary Jo Pinella, my dad interrupted my good time!"
Lady Heather's Dominion
4:25 p.m.
"Dad! Stop it!" Laughing her ass off, Ellie switched on the TV monitor he had just turned off. "I have to see what happens to the little piggy!" When her father came to pick her up, she was in the middle of watching a man wearing a pig outfit walking on all fours squealing 'I'm swine!' while one of Lady Heather's senior girls walked him on a leash. "Can you believe this loser is paying five hundred bucks for this! I don't know how she keeps a straight face."
"Botox?" Jim laughed.
"Huh?"
"Nevermind." Jim checked his watch. "It's quittin' time! I thought I'd take you to dinner before the Sheriff calls to scream at me again."
She patted the chair next to her. "Let's order pizza and watch Swine TV."
Happy that his daughter was into voyeurism instead of crystal meth, Jim took a seat and grabbed his cell phone. "What do you want on it?"
"Bacon!" Ellie joked.
"Of course."
"Now there's a sweet father-daughter moment you never see depicted on TV." Heather kissed Jim's cheek before walking to her desk.
"I'm sure Mike Brady and Marcia did this all the time." He pointed to the phone. "I'm calling for pizza from Vinnie's. Do you want me to order you a Chef Salad?"
"Please." Typing at the computer, she smiled, "We booked three dozen conventioneers for next weekend. God, I love it when the NRA comes to town."
Ellie smiled at her father. "She's way too cool to be dating you."
Before he could retort, the pizzeria worker answered his call. "Delivery, please."
The Campbell Residence
4:30 p.m.
"Thank you." Sara wrapped her fingers around the cold bottle of water her husband had delivered to her where she was sitting on the back patio.
"They've removed both Celine and her father from the house."
"Are they taking her to the crisis center?" When her husband nodded, Sara pushed out a breath. "That's the worst part." She had spent twenty-three hours at one, waiting for the outcome of her case hearing and subsequent foster placement. "The girl wakes up and finds her sister drained of blood and now she's ripped out of her father's arms and taken from her extravagant home to sit in a stark room with strangers doting on her in that 'Disneyesque' voice they use… 'are you doing okay, Sara?'." After a quick sip of water she said, "As if the answer could really be 'yes, I'm doing great' eight hours after watching my mother slice open my father's throat."
Gil felt for the social workers, because it was impossible to find the right thing to say under duress. "Have you eaten today?" he asked, proving his point.
"I had some crackers after puking earlier."
"Do you want me to…"
"They try to stuff your face at the crisis center." Staring at the trees blowing in the afternoon breeze she explained, "They have this massive fridge with every kind of juice and they have chocolate milk, not just regular. Donut holes…cookies…even Twinkies, but not the actual Twinkie kind, the knock offs. You know what I had when I was there? Licorice."
"You hate licorice."
"Exactly." She lifted the bottle and closed her eyes, wishing for a moment it was vodka.
"Sara…"
"I'm fine." She filled her lungs with air. "Just had to get that out."
"You could…"
"No, I need to see this through."
"Okay." With his hands in his pockets, Gil told her, "Vega is bringing a guy ID'd off the surveillance. I'm meeting him at the station. Call if you…"
"I'm fine."
The tone of her voice told him she was anything but and he couldn't blame her. The events that Sara witnessed here would have stressed her out normally, but coming on the same days as Mrs. Mike Rodgers moving in across the street, she was maxed.
Without moving her eyes from the horizon Sara called out, "Good luck with the suspect."
"Thanks." Fearing he'd overtalk, Gil opted to leave.
Nick and Carrie's
4:37 p.m.
"Guess who's here?" Carrie asked her future sister-in-law when Nick stopped home on a late lunch break. Hugging him she revealed, "Your mom, and she's in the family room with Katie and Jean. They're okay."
"No." The news was far too good for a bad day. "Really?"
"Come on."
"Wait." Even though he was thrilled by the development and couldn't wait to see the relief in his sister's eyes, he wasn't ready to let go. "This case is a freakin' family nightmare. I take back every bad thing I ever said about my dad." Breathing in her soothing scent, he hugged her tighter. "I wanted to strangle the father at the scene. I had to count backwards from ten twice." After another five seconds of affection he relented. "I guess we better get in there."
"What time do you think you'll be home tonight?"
"Who the hell knows?" Taking her hand, he led the way. "Just promise me you're good for a snuggle when I get in."
"I'll even throw in a massage to work out those knots I felt when you were hugging me."
"You could always beat them out with one of your old shoes." That triggered his memory and he stopped their stroll to the family room. "That's what I couldn't wait to tell you! The murder weapon is a designer shoe."
"You're making that up!"
"I'm not." He reached into his pocket. "I even wrote down the name to show it to you. Here."
"Ooh! These sandals are over eight-hundred."
"There was one on the vic and the other is MIA. The pointed heel ripped open the vic's jugular."
Carrie's hand flew to her neck. "Good thing we didn't throw any shoes at each other when we were arguing yesterday."
"It took more than throwin' it, the killer had to be swingin' hard according to the experiments we ran." After stealing a kiss he whispered, "But I'm with you…I'm glad we didn't throw anything at each other. It was ugly enough as it was."
"Nicky, I…" Katie's words cut her off.
"For Pete's sake! Would you two stop smoochin' and get the hell in here already!"
"She sounds happy," Nick remarked with relief in his voice.
"You should have been here when the tears were flying…"
"I wish you had told me when you were in high school," Jillian cried as she hugged her daughter. "The thought of you watching your brothers and sisters live their lives while you hid yours all these years breaks my heart."
"I tried to work up the nerve so many times, but then I'd hear Daddy make a comment or Andy and his friends tell a gay joke and…I'd lose my nerve."
"I'm sorry I didn't figure it out on my own. I've spent hours reviewing memories and it seems that there were so many signs…was it denial, or did I just never fathom the possibility?" Wiping her eyes, Jillian smiled at her daughter. "You went to the prom with Carl Jorgensen…that boy was a looker."
"I know," Katie released her first laugh since the crisis broke. "The hetero girls were so jealous. I laughed my ass off and poor Carl didn't get anythin' but a good night kiss." After laughing with the women, she turned serious. "What about Daddy? He was freaked when the scandal broke about Nicky."
Smoothing her daughter's hair, Jillian soothed, "I think it best if I handle it with him first. If that's okay with you, Sugar?"
"It's fine by me, I'm scared as hell."
"Okay, then. I'll gather my thoughts and talk it through with Judge Stokes. I have some leverage since he's recently learned he's not perfect. I'll call you when it's time for you to come over for a sit down." Hugging her again, "Jillian whispered, "I love you, Katie. If Nicky can forgive me for what happened to him, I can certainly forgive you for gettin' married in the Lord's house under false pretenses and makin' your father and me pay for rather garish weddin' you insisted on."
"It was my way of copin'."
Jillian chuckled, "Your sisters may not forgive you for makin' them wear those hideous hot pink dresses."
Katie glanced over at Carrie, who was the only one out of the know. "My weddin' looked like it had been planned when I was trippin' on LSD."
The Campbell Residence
4:45 p.m.
"GHB." Sara showed Charlie the tox report. "We analyzed the urine you deposited on, around and behind the toilet seat this morning."
"I didn't take GHB." He read the report in disbelief. "The last thing I wanted to do was pass out. I wanted to party."
"Maybe someone wanted you out so he or she could have Nina."
"But when?" Thinking back, he couldn't recall anyone giving him a drink. "I'm drawing a blank."
"You're lucky you didn't die," Sara coolly informed the party boy. "One of these days your luck's gonna run out." She personally felt the same way.
"Uh…I'm seriously thinking it ran out this morning." Running his fingers through his hair, he nervously asked, "How many other suspects do you have?"
LVPD Crime Lab
4:48 p.m.
"Señor Orlando…" Sam Vega took a seat at the interrogation table with Gil and cracked a fake smile at the twenty-two year old scumbag dressed in a designer suit. "Que pasò?" It wasn't his first time interacting with the dealer to the rich and stupid. "What were you doing at the Campbell residence last night?" The guy knew they had him on tape, so he didn't expect him to lie about being there.
After straightening his Armani jacket, Luis answered, "You saw the place, Señor Vega…I was enjoying the party."
"Did the deceased, Nina Campbell, personally invite you?"
"How'd she die?" he smirked.
"Why don't you tell us?"
"No, she didn't invite me to the party. I heard about it from a friend who she told could invite a few friends. I didn't see or hear anything unusual, but then again, I was too busy working things out in one of the bedrooms with a new acquaintance."
"Let me guess," Vega smiled, "you didn't bother asking her name."
"I knew you'd think that." With pride in his voice Luis Orlando said, "Valerie Frost, but she wasn't cold if you get my drift."
Vega looked to Gil who nodded, indicating there was a guest by that name.
"Aww, you didn't believe me." Laughing, the man who was no stranger to interrogation said, "Ask the bitch…she'll remember me, they always do."
"What time did you and Miss Frost call it a night?"
"That I don't know. Your wife can probably set her watch the way you work it out in the bedroom, but me…it's always an adventure and we lose track of time. We got it on twice…which probably seems shocking to you Viagra guys, but if you check the trash, you'll find evidence…I know how much you people love DNA." After cooperating for his customary five minutes, Luis checked his watch and sighed, "Damn…I have to get home. My abuela is making the family's Sunday dinner." He winked at Vega. "She makes killer tamales. So, unless you have something to charge me with, I'm gone."
"Thank you for coming to chat with us," Vega groaned, dreaming of the day he could finally nail the bastard's ass to the wall for something. "Enjoy the tamales, Señor Orlando, because you never know which supper might be your last."
Willows/Brown Household
4:55 p.m.
With everything ready for their first official family meal together, Lindsay grabbed her grandfather's hand, pulling him towards the front door. "On the count of three. One…two…three!" The teen threw open the front door just as her parents reached it. "Surprise!"
When Warrick saw Sam standing behind Lindsay wearing a white chef's apron he replied, "You can say that again. What's going on here?"
"We made our first Sunday Family Dinner together to surprise you."
Removing her sunglasses, Catherine stepped forward and gave her daughter a hug. "Thank you. I'm surprised and I'm starving, so this is perfect."
"I want a hug too." Sam opened his arms. "How was the honeymoon with Warren?"
After looking at her husband, she laughed, "We fell asleep and didn't get frisky until morning. It's been one hell of a week and we were beat."
Warrick shut the door behind him. "Those beds at The Tempest are great."
Sam lowered his scotch. "I chintz on a lot of things in my hotels, but never the mattresses. It kills repeat business if guests have a shitty night sleep."
"Watch the mouth in front of the impressionable teen, Dad!" Catherine tossed her sandals and plopped on the couch. "Where's the cocktail waitress? I'd love a glass of Pinot Grigio."
"Coming right up!" Lindsay zipped into the kitchen.
"Mugs!" Sam pointed to the kitchen door. "I can't say 'shit' in front of the teen, but you make her serve you booze when she's underage. Talk about double standards."
Warrick yelled out, "Hey, Linds! Would you grab me a beer too! Thanks!" Taking a seat next to his wife, he kissed her cheek. "This is nice. You, me, the kid and Pops here. Just like I always dreamed."
"Right." Catherine rolled her eyes. "So, Dad, what's the latest in your world? How's the new club venture you were telling us about coming along?"
"Forget about that, did you hear the big news?" Sam queried. "I figure one of your CSI friends had to call you."
"No. Well…we didn't check messages."
"What's goin' on?" Warrick asked when curiosity got the best of him.
"You know my nemesis, Bruce Campbell, right?"
"I thought he was just one of many," Catherine clarified.
"True." Sam set down his empty tumbler. "Campbell's daughter was brutally murdered in his house during a wild party she was throwing. The bastard was in New York City and got the call."
"What!" Catherine's weariness faded upon hearing the news. Fully alert, she asked, "Celine?"
"No, not that piece of work that mad my granddaughter's life hell, the older one, Nina. She's…I don't know, sixteen, maybe seventeen."
"Wow." Warrick shook off the thought of Lindsay falling to that kind of horrific fate. "See…I told you hangin' out with that Celine chick was a disaster waiting to happen."
"Thank God we pulled her out of Butterfield." Catherine shivered from the thought of her daughter being tragically killed at such a young age. "Not that the kids at Trinity don't party, I'm sure they do, it's just…why up the chance with the monied Butterfield crew always throwing wild bashes with unlimited cash?"
"Cash to spend on booze and dope." When Warrick saw Lindsay coming he cleared his throat hard. "So, Stan, things are goin' great with the club?"
"Yeah."
Lindsay handed her parents their drinks. "I love the Warren and Stan nicknames…very cute."
"So, what did you make your old man for dinner, Linds?"
"I made spaghetti with meat sauce and grandpa made the salad and garlic bread."
"Sounds great. Smells good too." Warrick raised his beer. "To our Sunday dinner with the family."
Thrilled beyond words, Lindsay tapped her Diet Coke can against her mother's wine glass. "To Sunday dinner with the family!"
Mondo Taco
5:15 p.m.
Standing at the counter with his arms around Carrie from behind, Nick asked, "What are you and the baby cravin' for dinner?" After talking with his mom and sister, they had decided to go out for a bite and give them some privacy.
"Combo three," she answered after much deliberation.
"Hi there," Nick smiled at the counter girl. "We'll have a number three, a number seven without the tortillas, and two drinks, thanks."
"And sopapillas!" Carrie added, craving the fried dough covered in powdered sugar. "Oh, but they'll get cold by the time we're done, so never mind."
Handing over two drink cups, the counter girl suggested, "You can pay for them now and I'll note on your receipt that you didn't get them, so when you're ready, just bring it up and we'll make your order."
"Awesome!" Carrie laughed when she saw her carb-hating man shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, I know…it's like seven-thousand carbs, but I need the energy, because I'm going shopping after dinner."
"For what?" he asked, in a grumpier tone than expected.
With a grin on her face she shoved him. "Ye of little faith! For a wedding gift for the Vartanns, remember? You said last night that we needed to get them something."
"Sorry."
"Fill my cup with Sprite while I find us a table, and I'll forgive you."
"I'm on it." He snatched the cups and a kiss before strolling away.
After surveying the restaurant, Carrie saw a table in front of one of the large picture windows. It was perfect for people watching and a little game they first played in Flagstaff called 'what's the story there?' They'd pick a person to observe and then take turns telling that person's story, trying to outdo each other with outlandish detail based on nothing but a hunch.
"One Sprite and an order of chips and salsa to keep you happy until the food arrives." Nick slid into the booth across from Carrie, sipping his iced tea.
"Let's play our game."
"Hell, I've been tryin' to figure out people's stories all day," he chuckled. "But yeah, why not? Maybe it will get my creative juices flowin'." He turned his gaze to the window. "Who's it gonna be?"
"Aww, there's a bag lady…well a shopping cart lady actually. I always feel so sad when I see them."
"The city has plenty of 'em. I think the last stat I saw estimated our homeless population around nine thousand." He studied the woman's face to determine if he had interacted with her before. Because homeless people were often out and about at odd hours, they witnessed a lot of crime. "Let's go with her. She looks about sixty, maybe sixty-five."
"Shhh…I'm thinking about my story. I have to warn you…it's going to be a little depressing since she looks so down. When I go up to get my sopapillas later, I'll order her a meal if she's still there. Maybe the gringo burger and fries in case she doesn't like Mexican."
Nick's smile unfurled as he sat watching Carrie look out the window. In less than twenty four hours he had gone from being unsure she was the right girl to thinking she was way too good for him. "Taking my break with you was a fantastic idea. I'm gonna go back refreshed and ready for another eight hours."
Lifting her Sprite, Carrie watched the woman push her cart to a shadier spot under the restaurant's canopy. "Oh! Oh my God!"
Nick grabbed a bunch of napkins from the dispenser when he saw his fiancée spit out her soda. "What's wrong with the drink?"
"No!" Breathless from the shock, she jumped up from the table and pointed out the window. "In her cart! The shoe!"
"Damn, are you havin' withdrawals already?" he asked half-joking.
"No! It's not just any shoe, Nicky!" Grabbing his hand, she yanked him out of the booth. "It's the same type of shoe you're looking for as the murder weapon!"
"Are you serious!"
"Yes!" she squealed. "I know shoes!"
Nick raced for the door, grabbing his cell phone to snap a picture in lieu of his digital, which was in his truck. "Ma'am!" He pulled out his ID to show the old woman. "I'm Nick Stokes with the Las Vegas Crime Lab." Holy shit, it is the same shoe! His eagle-eye immediately picked up the traces of dried blood.
"I didn't do nothin'." Delores Koontz gripped the handle of her cart tighter. "You can ask the manager at Big Lots, he let me have this cart 'cause it was broken. His name's Eddie. Tall black fella. He gives me old food too."
"Please relax, I'm not accusin' you of anything." When Carrie joined his side, he explained, "I was inside the restaurant havin' dinner when I noticed that shoe in your cart. Is it a recent find?"
"About two hours ago, but I only got one, so if you were thinkin' of buying it off me for your woman, you're outta luck."
"That's okay, I only need that one." Nick crouched down so he was eye level with the lethal weapon. "Where'd you find it? I'm sorry…what's your name, Ma'am?"
"Delores. I found it in a dumpster behind The Toy Store."
Nick snapped two photos of the shoe in the cart and then punched Grissom's number in his cell phone. "That's the adult store on Grenada, right?" He smiled when he saw Carrie roll her eyes upon being reminded of his vast knowledge of the city's porn shops.
"Yeah." Delores showed off her new tote bag. "It's real ugly on the outside, but I like it 'cause it has lots of secret compartments inside."
Eyeing her clutching the kate spade bag like a prize, the CSI sighed, "I'm afraid we're going to have to take the shoe and the bag, Delores, because they're evidence in a murder investigation."
"You can have the shoe, but this bag's the nicest thing I've got!"
"I'll take you shopping!" Carrie sweetly offered. "How about you let my fiancé guard your cart and do what he needs with the police, while we go down the block to Target? I'll get you a whole new outfit and a tote bag that isn't quite as ugly on the outside with even more compartments inside."
"A whole new outfit, huh?" Delores looked down at her aching feet. "Sneakers too?"
"Definitely." Carrie beamed a smile in Nick's direction. "That is, if it's okay with my fiancé that I buy shoes."
"Hell, yeah!" Nick merrily exclaimed right before the Master Criminalist answered, "Gris! You're not gonna believe this…"
Author's Notes:
A little homage to The Hunger Artist episode of finding something in a shopping cart! "I have a girl name Sara who would love that scarf!"
Sadly that statistic Nick mentioned on the homeless is NOT fiction for Vegas
I used the Vartanns, Lindsay & family, and Ellie as comic relief in between the angst, hopefully that's helping you not get bummed out. And of course Jillian came around! That winds up that storyline for a while.
Thanks to KJT for her editing and plotting services!
Next Chapter: Find out exactly what happened to Nina Campbell; Becca continues to wow her new in-laws; Mike's lawyer can't wait for Monday; The gang celebrates cracking the case as Nick, Carrie, Ellie, Jim, Gris and Sara go out to dinner (and have some fun conversations LOL)…and more! Posting: Holiday delay – posting Thursday, July 6th
Thanks!
Maggs