Laws of Motion – Book 3
Written by: Ms. Maggs/Edited by: KJT
Chapter 4
Sunday, September 25, 2006
Target – Las Vegas
5:45 p.m.
"What size shoe do you wear, Delores?" Carrie inspected the sneakers on the rack, looking for the most durable.
"Whatever size is in the trash can."
"Oh." They had been having such a normal conversation, for a moment Carrie had forgotten the woman's circumstances.
"Eight if I can get it."
"Okay, let's try these."
"Just in case you were wondering, I wasn't always like this." Taking a seat on the bench provided to try-on shoes, the old woman kicked off her dirty Keds. "I was a nurse back in the day. I had some money saved up too, but my son took it all and gambled it away."
"That's awful."
"He'll burn in hell for sure, don't you think?"
"I can't really say what God would…"
"I don't believe in God."
"Oh." Not sure how the woman could believe in hell but not God, Carrie changed the subject. "What kind of nurse were you?" She knelt before her, inhaling shallowly to avoid the aroma of smelly socks.
"ER and then pediatrics, because I did well with kids." Delores slipped her foot into the sneaker. "One day I shot a little boy's IV full of the wrong drug by accident. I lost my job, rightly so, and the boy died a few days later. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about him and his family. I hope I burn in hell for that. Kinda feels like I'm there already on the hot days."
"I don't believe you'll burn in hell for something that was beyond your control." Unable to cope with the thought of an innocent child dying, Carrie focused on the weather. "This was my first summer here and I actually went out and fried an egg on the sidewalk just to see if it would work. It did. I know Vegas in August is the closest to hell I ever want to get."
"Don't worry, Honey, you won't ever see the eternal hellfire, not when you do stuff like buying an old homeless woman new shoes."
"Aww, thank you, Delores." The comment made the sock stench disappear and Carrie happily helped the woman into the left shoe.
"Killing the boy by accident was the start of my mind going. Sometimes I can go a week or two, other times, I can't remember a thing but my name for days…or so I'm told. I get confused. That's how my son got the money from me. He had power of attorney and cleaned me out when I didn't know what was going on."
"Have you been diagnosed with Alzheimer's?" Carrie asked while lacing up the sneakers just right.
Delores nodded. "I tried a few other jobs, but no one has much patience for an old broad who forgets she's cooking on an open flame and can't count change fast. I don't get government checks, because the IRS…ooh." Standing up, a smile erupted on her face. "Ooh, these are nice, real nice. I feel like I'm walking on pillows."
"Excellent." Carrie stood and grabbed the box. "Let's get you a six-pack of socks too."
"Are we still gettin' the bag with the compartments?"
"You bet." Watching the woman switch back to her old shoes, Carrie asked, "Do you have a specific place where you sleep at night? Or do you move around?"
"The Safe Haven shelter when it's hot. That's where I get my medication too. I have a few spots around town when the weather's good."
"And what about food? Do you know where all the programs are?"
"Oh yeah, and I have a few restaurants that give me leftovers…on the days I can remember where they are. On the other days, my street friends help me out and make sure I eat."
"Good." Carrie placed the shoe box in their shopping cart along with the two outfits they had picked out. "Do you want to push or…"
"Go ahead, Honey, I get to do it all the time." Delores walked on, enjoying her new sneakers and the aroma filling her nose. "I smell grilled hot dogs. Think we could get one of those from the snack bar before we go? You don't get them at the shelter."
"Definitely, because I'm hungry too."
The Willows/Brown Household
6:01 p.m.
"I'm stuffed to the gills." Sam patted his bulging abdomen. "My granddaughter is an excellent cook."
"Thanks, Grandpa." Lindsay stood to clear the table.
"I'll get that, Linds." Warrick wanted to give Catherine a chance to break the news. He wasn't sure how Lindsay would take it because teens are funny about death sometimes. He figured, whatever her feelings, she'd probably clam up and keep them to herself for a while.
"Sweetie…something happened yesterday, and I'd rather you hear it coming from me than see it on the news tonight." Catherine took her daughter's hand. "Celine's sister, Nina, was found murdered in her bedroom."
Although Lindsay had known the girl to be snobby and vicious, she felt an overwhelming sadness. "H…how?"
"We can't discuss the details of a pending investigation."
"Was Celine home when it happened? Was she hurt?"
"She was home, but she's unharmed."
"She wanted me to sleep over there, remember?" The idea of something brutal happening where she had almost slept freaked her out. Her overactive imagination kicked into gear and she thought of the mansion and all its windows and doors, of running through it trying to escape a psycho just like in the horror movies she loved to watch with friends. "That's so…" After shivering, Lindsay said, "Is Celine okay? I mean, I know she's like my mortal enemy, but…that has to be the worst, finding out your sister is dead and being there when it happened."
"She's in protective custody, because her father was out of town at the time and she was left home without a guardian."
Sam tossed his napkin on the table, "Friggin' Bruce Campbell…leavin' the kids alone like that when he has plenty of money to hire someone qualified to look out for them. Makes me sick. I thought he was a rat bastard before, but now…"
"Dad…" Catherine shook her head. "Not a good time."
Sam finally realized Lindsay was unnerved. "Sorry." He checked his watch. "I really need to get going anyway. I told Monica I would be in the wings to watch her dance tonight."
"Tell the bimbo I said hi." Catherine replied on purpose. "Oops, did I say that out loud?"
"That's it, I'm gonna marry her just to piss you off, Mugs. I'll call my lawyer from the limo and have him start drafting the pre-nup." Sam stood and winked at his granddaughter. "Maybe I'll leave her all my casinos and money instead of you and Lindsay."
"I'm getting your casinos?" Lindsay blurted, snapping out of her funk over Nina Campbell's demise. "Seriously?"
"Who the hell else am I gonna to leave it to?" Bending over he kissed his granddaughter's cheek. "One day you'll rule this city, Sweetheart, and I bet you'll do a much better job than me. Your mother should be working with learning the business right now, but instead she's running around saving the city from scum."
"I'll walk you out, Dad." Catherine took his arm, leading him out of the kitchen and away from her daughter as fast as she could.
"Did you hear that, Pops!" Lindsay sat in her chair trying to absorb the news. "I'm the heir to the Braun fortune."
"Assuming your grandfather doesn't get nailed by the IRS or a RICO violation before he turns over the keys to the kingdom." Warrick flipped on the hot water to rinse the plates he collected. "I love the irony though. A recovering gambling addict just adopted the heir to a slew of casinos. Some people might think I had ulterior motives."
"But you didn't, right?"
"No," he laughed. "And I'd think twice about being a casino mogul when you grow up. Talk about a high-stress job."
"Your job is high-stress."
"Yeah, but I'm helpin' people, so it's worth it, like an ER doctor works long hours, but it's cool because he's saving lives. Casinos don't help people, except people like your grandfather, they help him get richer."
"They help people have a good time and if people are stressed, they need to have a good time once in a while."
"Until the good time ends and they realize they're broke."
"Not everybody gambles until they're broke like you." She immediately felt bad. "Sorry."
"No, it's true." One day, when she was older, he'd tell her about Holly, and how he learned his lesson the hard way after an innocent girl lost her life.
"The casinos are the largest employer in the city. Where would all those people work, if there weren't casinos?"
Warrick grabbed the soap laughing, "If you decide not to be a casino mogul, you should definitely be a lawyer."
The Vartanns – San Diego
6:10 p.m.
"Where did you go to law school, Becca?" Reggie inquired while grabbing another piece of garlic bread from the basket in front of him. Home from the hospital for thirty minutes, his wife was in the master bedroom getting her first rest in twenty four hours while everyone else enjoyed a home cooked meal.
"Stanford."
"Ooh." Dennis winked at his son. "How'd an Arizona State jock like you get a gorgeous Stanford woman to marry you?"
"Like any respectable Sun Devil frat boy gets a girl, Pop…booze, lots of it."
"I thought you said you don't drink, Becca?" Reggie asked after clanking his beer bottle against his brother's in a show of ASU pride.
"I don't drink now." Grinning at her husband she answered, "It was only when I woke up hung-over and married to Tony, that I realized I had a serious drinking problem."
"Ha!" Dennis raised his beer. "I really like this girl!"
"Thanks, Mr. V, I really like you too…all of you. Thank you for welcoming me with open arms, to say I'm not used to that is a huge understatement." The feel of her husband's arm slipping around her shoulders gave her a rush. "I keep waiting to wake up."
The sound of newborn Sierra stirring in the bassinet caught everyone's ear, and Reggie hurried over to quiet the baby before his wife heard. "Speaking of waking up. Shhh…shhh, Sierra. Mommy needs her rest." He plucked the infant from her bed. "After years of trying, I still can't believe we have one of these."
"We have a rat," Becca proudly announced. "She's less than a pound, and she's twelve inches long if you include her hideous tail. She's white, with evil red eyes and freakish feet. We named her Lady Godiva. She's part of my rehabilitation program."
"What kind of rehabilitation program is that, dear?" Marge queried.
"Tony and my childhood friend, Hoj…that's short for Hojem, it's a Norwegian name, anyway, they concocted this plan to humanize me. They're tag teaming it."
Grabbing his beer, Tony chuckled, "Aww, Becks, we were so close to convincing them we were normal." Squeezing her shoulders, he explained, "She was kind of like the Grinch…raised without love and sealed off from the real world, she didn't know how to feel or interact with the masses. But, since I've met her, her heart's thawed and grown ten sizes." He kissed her cheek. "I never thought I'd fall for a Grinch, but here I am…head over heels." In love.
Reggie laughed as he rocked his daughter. "She's a hell of a lot hotter than a Grinch, Ton." Not to mention richer. I still can't believe my brother is a friggin' millionaire, the lucky bastard.
"That's definitely a perk."
"Yeah." Becca playfully shoved her husband away. "That first night, he didn't fall for my heart or my Stanford mind. He fell for my body in a sinful Versace dress and then two hours later, my prowess in bed."
"Not in front of my mommy, Becks."
"Is she lying, Anthony?" Marge teased. "Not honoring your mother and father is a sin too you know."
"Okay, okay." Tony lifted his hand. "Guilty."
LVPD – Interrogation Room
6:17 p.m.
"Señor Orlando!" Detective Vega walked in with Gil and Nick to question the suspect who had been picked up at his mother's house eating dinner just like he had told them he would be. "How were the tamales?"
"Not as good as the ones your wife made for me when you were working late the other night."
"Ha Ha, you got me." Vega took a seat. "Now we're gonna get you." He motioned to the CSIs. "Have at it, Gentlemen."
As planned, Nick opened up a paper evidence bag and placed a Rene Caovilla coil sandal on the table. Then, he took a seat next to Grissom who was watching for the suspect's reaction.
"Mr. Orlando…" Gil threw on his glasses and opened his file. "Since our last meeting, we confirmed the details of your story. Valerie Frost verified she did indeed spend roughly ninety minutes with you in one of the guest bedrooms of the Campbell residence."
"Roughly." Luis snickered. "Yeah, that sounds about right."
Gil pointed to the shoe. "Does that look familiar?"
"I think I saw a one-legged 'ho on Fremont street wearing it as I was drivin' home from Señor Vega's house the other night."
"It's a Rene Caovilla coil sandal, and Nina Campbell had a pair. Do you recall seeing her wearing them last night?"
"You may have a shoe fetish, but me…the only things I check out are a chick's tits and ass. Nina had a bony ass and her rack was pathetic."
Nick groaned, "How about showin' a little respect for the dead?"
"Sorry." Luis nodded and changed to a somber tone, "Her tits were tiny…may she rest in peace."
Anxious to nail the bastard, Gil forged on, "Mr. Orlando, can you explain how your prints were found on Nina Campbell's sandal?"
Luis reached forward and handled the shoe, coating it with his prints and then placed it on the table grinning. "'Cause I touched it just now."
"This isn't the evidence, ya moron." Nick grabbed it and handled it too. "It's the same type of shoe, not Nina's shoe. It's the one we used to run tests for blood spatter comparisons."
"Oh."
Removing his glasses, Gil narrowed his gaze. "Think about it for a minute, Luis. Maybe the answer will come to you."
The investigator's eyes burning into him, Luis stared at the ceiling. "Oh! Yeah, I remember now. Nina was showing off those shoes to her friend and I was sitting on the couch next to her. She put it in my face and I batted it away with my hand."
"Would you show me how you did that, please?" Nick placed his hand inside the shoe and extended it in front of the suspect's face.
"Like this."
"Thank you." Nick removed his hand from the shoe and explained, "The thing is, we didn't find your prints on the outside of the shoe where you just had your hand. We found them on the inside. Like you were holding it when her foot wasn't in it." He took the shoe, placing his fingers exactly where the prints had been found. "Based on blood spatter patterns, I think you were holdin' it like this when you swung at her and ripped open her jugular."
"I want a lawyer."
Vega nodded. "Let the record show that Luis Orlando has asked for legal counsel and questioning has ceased."
Gil glanced over at his co-worker. "I think you got it right. Look at him. You can tell. He's starting to sweat and he can't stop thinking about it…all the blood…the way she gasped and gurgled as she was dying. Seeing someone bleed out isn't easily forgotten." He returned his gaze to the guilty man. "Don't worry, Nicky. He doesn't have to confess. The evidence will be more than enough. We have him at the location at the time of death, the murder weapon with his prints on it, and two witnesses who positively ID'd him walking upstairs with Nina. As for motive…"
"I didn't do it!" Luis snarled, while the scene played in his head like a bad movie.
Peering into the Nina's bathroom, Luis gave a hearty laugh. "I don't think a couple of lines is gonna wake up Prince Charming. He's down for the count, Sweetheart."
"Damn." The room already spinning from the booze she had consumed before and after doing coke, Nina stuffed her wallet back in her purse and threw it on the dresser. "Nevermind."
"Nevermind? The night's still young, Baby." Luis shut the bathroom door and walked over salivating. "Come over here. I'll let you party with me."
"Let me? As if," she guffawed. "You're so not my type. I only date cultured men."
"Yeah, Mr. Hollywood looks real cultured drooling on your bathroom floor with his ass in the air and since when is banging a guy you just met called 'dating'?" Reaching out for her hand, Luis growled, "Trust me, once you've been with me, you won't..."
"Give it up, jerk! I'm not sleeping with you! Don't you get it! You're not in my social circle. You're not even on the same planet." Nina pointed to the door and then walked around to the other side of the bed. "Out! Now! Go screw the housekeeper, she's Mexican too."
"Look who thinks her shit doesn't stink? You can't call me fast enough when you've got a craving…two, three o'clock in the morning, meeting you in your daddy's limo to give you your fix, but now you're acting like you're too good to be seen with me. Give me a break, bitch. You're the skank with the nasty drug habit. I'm the genius making money off dumbasses like you." Laughing he said, "You know the only difference between you and a crack whore on Fremont? Location and the cost of your trampy clothes. At least the girls on Fremont make money, you just gave it away for free to that asshole in the bathroom who was already downstairs telling guys you're an easy lay."
"Get out!" she screamed as tears formed in her eyes. "Charlie didn't say that about me! He's taking me to the Oscars!"
"Yeah, right, and I'm takin' J Lo." Luis waved. "I'm goin', but the next time you want candy, don't call me unless you're ready to drop to your knees for me. I'm through bein' Mr. Nice Guy with you, I don't care how much you pay me. I don't need you, you need me."
"Go to hell!" Snatching a sandal from her foot she flung it at his head.
Picking up the shoe that nailed him in the skull, Luis rushed forward. "Let's see if Mr. Hollywood wants to screw you when your face is messed up." When he missed her cheek and saw the tip of the shoe's heel had ripped a hole in the girl's neck, he jumped back. "Oh shit."
Nina gasped and fell to the ground clutching her neck.
Luis' eyes frantically searched the area, and when they landed on a plaid tote bag, he grabbed it and shoved the shoe inside. Then, after placing the folded up bag under his coat, he went to the bedroom door and opened it, using the tail of his button down shirt instead of his hand. Once he saw the coast was clear, he used his shirt to twist the door lock on the knob and shut it behind him so party guests wouldn't be able to open it if they were searching for a bed.
"Mr. Orlando." Sam motioned to the officer. "Take him away. Gil…Nick…always a pleasure."
"Same here," Gil confirmed while Nick hurried out the door to get behind the glass where Brass was waiting with Sara and Carrie, who was there on a visitor's pass courtesy of Uncle Jimmy.
"Yessssssss!" Carrie cheered when her man bolted into the room with Gil following behind and shutting the door. "That was such a rush! I didn't realize how much I miss being in the courtroom until I watched that. You guys were awesome!"
Wrapping his arms around his giddy fiancée, Nick lifted her off her feet. "But it was you who cracked the case, Darlin'!"
"I want to be a CSI!" Carrie exclaimed as Nick spun her. "One of my undergraduate degrees is in Criminal Justice and with all my years working as a prosecutor, I'm highly qualified."
Returning his fiancée to her feet, he laughed, "As if I want my pregnant wife being a CSI. No thank you, call me old fashioned, but I'd rather have you and my unborn child be safe than..." Then he saw Grissom, a man with a pregnant CSI for a wife. "What I meant was…"
Jim interrupted before Nick could dig himself a deeper hole, "Stokes, Sidle, your shift is up in ten minutes. We need to celebrate Carrie's first cracked case. Drinks on me! Virgin drinks for the pregnant guests of course. But first I have to call the Sheriff and tell him we have Nina Campbell's killer. I'm thinking Club Cue? We'll pretend the ladies are our Fag Hags."
Carrie laughed, "I'm game!"
"But I'm starving," Nick announced. "And since the food at Club Cue sucks, how about steak 'n eggs at Charlie's instead? It'll be cheaper for you too, Boss."
"Count me in." Gil smiled approvingly. "Best three dollar steak 'n eggs in town."
"Seems fitting since Good Time Charlie's ass was just saved." Winking at Carrie, Sara added, "I'll bring a CSI job application." When Nick cringed she broke out laughing.
"Do you mind if I bring a date?" Jim asked from the doorway, happy to be getting food since he was summoned to the station before his bacon pizza had arrived at The Dominion. When he saw Sara's smile fade, he clarified, "My daughter, not Heather. I'll swing by to pick her up and meet you there."
"Jim…" Sara took a deep breath and said, "If you want to bring Heather, I'm fine, more than fine."
"Thanks, but she has to work. There's a client coming in with an elaborate request to…" Jim belly laughed. "Let's just say they're trying out synthetic rat shit for the first time. See ya there!"
The foursome exchanged looks, each trying to imagine exactly how synthetic rat shit could be utilized.
The Vartanns – San Diego
7:22 p.m.
"Who cleans up the rat shit?" Reggie needled his brother while they walked Hydro, his golden retriever, down to the beach. "I can't visualize your high society wife doing it."
"She wears latex gloves."
"Ah." Breathing in the salt air, Reggie said, "On paper your union sounds stranger than shit, but after watching the two of you together, it works."
"We get that a lot," Tony laughed. "Oh, and don't feel bad about the Godmother thing, Becca knows it's not allowed because she isn't Catholic."
"You know you're going to have to lie to Father Denelli and say you go to mass and would raise Sierra in the church."
"I'll risk lying in a church for you, Bro." Stopping to let the dog pee, Tony laughed again. "But if I get struck down by a bolt, it's blood on your hands."
"You may be a lapsed Catholic, but you're still good at laying on the guilt."
LVPD – Holding Cells
7:30 p.m.
"Charles Dwyer." The officer waited for the cell door to open, then waved the young man over. "You've been cleared and you're free to go."
"Really?" Charlie rushed for the door, thanking God for saving his ass…again.
"Yep."
"Yessssssssssss!" The first thing he planned to do was call his father to tell him he learned his lesson once and for all. From now on, no more illicit drugs and wild partying! Just booze, prescription meds, and kinky sex with legal girls. "I'm free! I really thought I was going to die for this. Nevada has the death penalty, right?"
"Yep." Officer Dougall led the way. "I guess it's your lucky day."
Arizona Charlie's
7:53 p.m.
Jim raised the Sprite he was drinking in deference to his recovering alcoholic daughter, "To our lucky break and Miss Blake's keen eye and knowledge of silly overpriced shoes."
"To Carrie!" Sara, Nick, Gil and Ellie cheered.
The guest of honor proudly said, "I knew my shoe addiction would come in handy one day! Thank you for the celebration, Jim."
"Maybe Whispering Pines will start a Shoe Addiction program just for you," Ellie commented. "Then you'd get to spend quality time with your pal, Ren. He talked about you a bunch and told me to say 'howdy'."
"He did?" Nick replied in surprise. I knew that guy had a thing for Carrie!
"Nicky got soooooo jealous when I danced with him in Flagstaff." She elbowed her fiancé in the ribs. "Admit it."
"Huh? What was that, Darlin?"
Ellie droned, "I can't believe you chose to dance with that man without a revolver being held to your head."
"That guy's gonna be my son-in-law one day." Jim waited for his daughter to hit him over the head with a chair.
"You wish, Daddy."
Sara grabbed a handful of chips from the basket. "I really want to meet this cowboy y'all keep talking about."
"That sounds so wrong on you, Sara," Nick laughed. "There's not an ounce of cowgirl in you."
Gil tossed his arm around his wife's shoulder, "He's never seen you in action with a lasso."
"Oh!" Nick covered his ears. "Too much information!"
"Speaking of information," Carrie said in between nibbling on nacho chips. "Tell us about your first day on the job, Ellie. What was the weirdest thing you saw?"
Sara and Nick exchanged glances and then he asked, "Hey, Mrs. Grissom, how about you and me head to the jukebox and pick a few?"
"I thought you'd never ask." She slid out of the booth and elbowed her pal. "But none of that country crap, okay?"
"Oh!" His hand went to his chest. "That hurt."
Overwhelmed with curiosity, Carrie reiterated her question, "Tell me something weird!" She couldn't explain the fascination.
"This guy paid five hundred bucks to dress up like a pig and crawl around in a pen snorting 'I'm swine' while this chick cracked a whip and yelled 'I can't hear you, piggy!'."
After sipping the Shirley Temple Nick had ordered for her as a joke, Carrie posited, "Why would anyone spend their time and money at The Dominion?"
Jim happily fielded the question. "Because everyone needs a hobby. Some freaks play with bugs, others go to Lady Heather's." Raising his glass in Gil's direction he added, "Some people do both."
His retort not appropriate for mixed company, Gil rolled his eyes at the snark while Ellie continued talking.
"If you think that's weird, when I was leaving, this guy who cheated on his wife was coming in to dress as a rat while the missus threw fake rake shit at him and chewed his ass out. They're video taping it, so I'll get to watch it tomorrow."
Carrie whipped out her wallet. "That's twenty I owe you Gil." They had placed bets on how the synthetic rat poop was to be used.
"Easy money." He snatched the bill and tucked it in his shirt pocket.
Meanwhile, at the jukebox, Sara commented to her buddy, "So, everything seems good between you and Carrie."
"Better than good, it's great." He was searching the song choices to find the silliest country one. "It's funny how it seems like the world is endin' one day and then the next you're closer than ever."
"Been there, done that."
"What about you?" His lips spread when he saw John Denver's Grandma's Feather Bed. "How are you doin' after findin' out about your new neighbor?"
"Still pretty flipped out, but as long as Mike is in Ely, what's the worst that can happen, right?"
Dropping in his quarters, Nick shuddered, "You shouldn't tempt fate by askin' that out loud."
"I'm not superstitious like you." He was always going on about that kind of stuff. "It's Mrs. Rodgers who should be worried. She has a neon sign above her head flashing the words 'Future Dead Woman' and she's the only one who can't read it."
"Because it's above her head."
Sara cracked up at the literal interpretation.
"What? It's true! You can't read a sign that's above your head, unless you look in a mirror and read backwards. That reminds me of the movie The Shining, the freaky part where the kid writes 'redrum' in red lipstick on the door and the mom's trying to figure it out and then she sees it in the mirror and it spells murder. I told Sean about a scene in that movie, the one at the end where the kid retraces his footprints in the snow to escape his psycho father, only I didn't tell him it was the kid's father that was psycho because I didn't want to freak him out, not that it mattered because the goofball went and snuck watchin' the movie anyway. Holy hell, it scared the piss out of him for days. I laughed my ass off when I found that out. It's somethin' I woulda done if Andy told me about a scary movie. That's how I ended up watchin' The Exorcist the first time. Holy hell, I didn't sleep well for a month after that."
"Are you done?" Sara laughed. "Because you had just asked me how I was."
"Oh, yeah, right." Walking back to their table he said, "You were sayin'?"
"Marlene Cooper is a dead woman walking."
"No doubt, but we won't convince her otherwise. That woman makes an old mule on a hot summer day look cooperative."
"You're such a hick, Stokes." Sara slid into the curved booth next to her husband. "Get ready, I saw the look on his face, a stupid country song is imminent."
"I think I'll sing it for you too."
"Why punish the innocent patrons?" Jim remarked. "My ears are still recovering from your performance at Greg and Tawny's wedding."
Twenty minutes later, Jim's nightmare came true…
While his tablemates pretended they didn't know him, Nick continued to croon, "It was nine feet high, six feet wide and soft as a downy chick! It was made from the feathers of forty-'leven geese. Took a whole bolt of cloth for the tick. It'd hold eight kids, four hound dogs and a piggy we stole from the shed. We didn't get much sleep but we had a lot of fun on Grandma's feather bed!"
"Gross!" Ellie exclaimed. "This is the most perverted song I've ever heard. Eight kids and a bunch of animals having 'fun' in their grandmother's big ass bed. Hello! And if the kids all had the same grandmother that makes it incestuous too."
"Don't go tryin' to make a wholesome classic, nasty, Missy." Nick grabbed his beer and scolded, "See what happens, one day workin' at Lady Heather's and you think everything's twisted. The kids were just jumpin' on the bed with their pets, is all. When you live on a farm, hound dogs and baby pigs are what you have. Didn't you ever go to your grandma's house and play on her bed? We did that all the time as kids, then she'd run in and shoo us away."
"I tried to play on my grandmother's bed," Ellie replied, "but there were too many empty liquor bottles in it."
Jim nodded, "The Ex's mother was a drunk."
"I got my granny's nose and her dependence problems," the rehab graduate announced. "A predisposition for alcoholism is heredity."
Sara stared at her Sprite thinking, wishing she hadn't been reminded of that or the empty bottles she used to find in her mother's bed and closet.
Carrie kissed her man's cheek. "Don't worry, I loved sneaking into my grandma's room when I was little. You're normal, Nicky."
"Heather doesn't think so, she thinks you're secretly twisted." Ellie knew her father would be ticked and that only encouraged her. "She told me she thinks you're mastermind when it comes to controlling women and you have Carrie so expertly wrapped around your finger that she doesn't even realize you've manipulated her."
Nick laughed at the notion. "Right…and she knows this how? From watchin' Carrie and me together twice at parties? If she spent a day livin' with us, she'd realize she was dead wrong. You tell her, Carr."
"Do you always order her around like that?" Ellie snickered.
"Forgive my daughter." Brass pinched her thigh.
"Ow!" Ellie laughed in her father's face. "Is pinching me under the table supposed to be a hint telling me to shut up because Nicky's getting upset?"
"We were apart for her teen years, so we're making up for lost time." Jim made a note to strangle her later. "Heather likes to analyze people, but she's not always right."
Gil recalled the woman being dead-on about him in a matter of minutes.
Curiosity getting the best of her, Sara asked, "Has she said anything about me?"
"Oh, yeah. Tons. Your husband too. Personally, I think it's kinda squicky that she boffed him before getting it on with my dad. I always thought guys had a thing about not doing their friend's ex's." Knowing it would drive the woman crazy, Ellie didn't say anything specific. "My dad's right…I should keep my trap shut. I've said way too much already."
Gil silently praised the decision, while knowing he'd hear all about the topic from his Heather-hating wife on the drive home.
Still bugged, Nick turned to his fiancée. "Why didn't you tell her I'm not controlling? C'mon, Carr, tell her!"
Ellie laughed into her palm as the man who was trying to prove he wasn't controlling, was controlling the words his fiancée uttered. "He's totally trying to control you! Don't you see?"
"That's not what's happening," Carrie countered, wishing the girl would can it already. "He's just panicked that he looks bad in front of all of you and he wants me to help correct the misperception."
"Yeah," Nick concurred. "So why haven't you?"
"I had food in my mouth."
"No, you didn't," Ellie pointed out, "You put your fork down right before I asked the question and it's still there."
"I'm a slow chewer! In any case, the answer is…we're equally controlling of each other. We're both type-A control freaks and we not only try to control each other, but everything around us, and the future. It's a common personality characteristic of adults who were sexually abused as children, like Nick and me, or for kids who grew up in abusive homes, like Sara. Having lost control of their lives and environment at one time, they're determined not to let it happen again. They overcompensate and work very hard to control everything that's controllable. Sometimes it's school-based, like always striving to get A's, as the three of us did. Another example is body image issues, like developing anorexia, because what goes into your body is one of the few things you can absolutely control. I was starting to head down that road, but my mother recognized the signs and got me help before it got serious. Some girls go in the opposite direction, purposely making themselves overweight thinking that they won't be attractive to rapists, which of course is a fallacy since rape is about control, not sexual attraction."
Nick fixated on the body image comment, wondering if that's why he was always so obsessive about what he ate and how much he worked out. Great, yet another way I'm a freak! I bet Carrie figured this out on day two and has been waiting for a good time to broach the subject. Yeah, that's what all those comments about me watching her eat carbs were about. Duh, way to be observant, Stokes.
"In any case," Carrie put forth a smile, "that's probably what Heather has picked up on when she's observed us. Without knowing a person's background and life experiences, it's hard to know what makes them tick and it's dangerous to make assumptions without knowing the whole story, just ask any CSI at this table."
"You're pretty smart, huh?" Ellie commented.
Gil answered for her, "Yes, she's a triple threat…well educated, naturally intelligent, and keenly observant."
Carrie shied away from the compliment. "I think you're talking about your wife."
"It applies to her too." Gil winked at Sara.
While Nick continued to obsess about his newly realized body image issue, Ellie refocused on the controversial discussion topic, "Lady Heather also said you both seem to be living up to a societal norm, rather than just being yourselves."
Jim tossed his hat in the analysis game, "I think they play things by the book because they're both honest, good-hearted people who were raised right and consequently, they carry themselves in public the way they were brought up to do. They don't want to offend anyone or break any rules…getting busted at Gil's and at Wendy's being the exception." He winked. "As for who is more controlling...all I know is, on the day he met Ms. Blake, Nick lost all control over his heart and mind…and another body part I won't mention specifically. Even though you're not directly calling all the shots, Carrie, this guy doesn't do anything without thinking of you first. Will it impact you? Would you like it? Would it be good for your family's future?" Watching her set her head on Nick's shoulder, Jim added, "Heather likes to think she knows everything about someone in five minutes, but I've known you for almost a decade, Nicholas, and you are a stand up guy, which is why you're the perfect partner for a compassionate woman like Carrie."
"Thanks, Jim." Nick nodded in appreciation. "I feel like I just heard your Best Man toast."
"Ooh! Good idea." Jim grabbed a pen from his jacket. "Who remembers what I said?"
Carrie, Gil and Sara all raised their hands.
"It pays to have observant friends." Jim clicked open his pen. "Okay, shoot!"
The Vartanns – San Diego
8:30 p.m.
Changing Sierra's diaper, Gina asked her new sister-in-law, "How are you handling being a policeman's wife? I was real freaked out when I first started dating Reggie."
"What do you mean?" Becca queried as she watched the woman effortlessly care for the baby as if she'd been doing it her whole life.
"I'm talking about the danger cops and smoke eaters face every day compared to white collar guys behind a desk…getting shot, or dying in a fire." Cradling Sierra the veteran wife said, "About a week after Reggie and I got serious, two guys from his ladder company died in a roof collapse. I didn't sleep well for months after that, especially on the nights he was gone."
"Where would he go?"
"Fire shifts aren't like police shifts. They work twenty-four on, living at the station, then they get forty-eight off."
"That sucks."
"Yeah, at night I'd keep the scanner on to see if his truck was dispatched. I got used to it after a while and managed to sleep. Then 9-11 happened, which was a real wake up call for all of us." She shivered from the memory. "Three hundred and forty-three fire personnel gone in a matter of hours. My husband swore when I got pregnant, he'd transfer to the Fire Marshall's office. Because he has a Criminal Justice degree as well as fire experience, he'd be perfect working arson investigation and I think he'd really like it." Sighing, she lamented, "Instead, he came home with an application for Smoke Jumper certification because, I quote…'the only way fighting fires could be more fun, would be to jump out of a plane to get to one'. I'd kill the asshole if I didn't love him so much."
"Why are you trying to scare the shit out of me?" Becca snapped, having experienced enough catty women in her life to recognize one trying to spook her.
"No, I swear, I'm just commiserating with a sister, because I can't do it with Reggie." Gina snuggled Sierra tighter. "I don't want her to grow up without her daddy." Her hormonally-charged tears activated. "Sorry, I really didn't mean to scare you. I'm not thinking straight so soon after delivery I guess."
Realizing her sister-in-law wasn't being a bitch, Becca made a peace offering, "Want a Xanax? I know I'm taking one after that reality check you just gave me." She headed for the door of the nursery.
"Thanks, but I'm breast feeding, so I can't. Just to be safe, I'm not even taking the Vicodin they gave me."
Her hand on the doorknob, Becca softly said, "Every guy I've ever loved has walked out on me. I can't lose Tony."
"It's not walking out on you if your husband dies in the line of duty," Gina sniffled, "it's an honor...at least that's what we're expected to say." Feeling sorry for the despondent woman, she said, "Between sisters…Tony drove here right after he caught Amy cheating on him. Reggie was at work, so it was just me and him, and he fell apart. Vartann men never cry, but Tony was sitting on my couch bawling his eyes out. His brother has no idea how bad it was because by the time he got off shift and came home ten hours later, he had switched to anger. The times I've seen him since, he was miserable. Some people just aren't meant to be alone, and he's one of them. If you treat Tony right, he'll never walk out on you."
"But he could die."
"Everybody does." Gina kissed the top of Sierra's downy soft head. "Life is short, that's why we have to treasure every minute we have with our loved ones." She rolled her eyes. "That was the buzz phrase we walked around saying like zombies after 9-11."
"Hey, thanks for the pep talk, Sis." Her breathing erratic, Becca opened the door for air. "I'll be in the kitchen swallowing that Xanax now." On the way, she saw her husband walking through the door with his brother, and even though his parents were sitting in the living room watching Jeopardy, she yelled, "I don't care if you don't want to hear it, I'm saying it! I love you! So what if it's only been a few weeks, I know I love you! Life is short, that's why we have to treasure every minute we have with our loved ones! So, get your shit together and love me back before you take a bullet in the line of duty and die on me! I want all twelve roses to be red, dammit!" After a jagged breath she asked in a shaky voice, "What's it gonna take to make them all red?"
Marge muted Alex Trebek so she could hear her stunned son's reply.
When he remained silent, Reggie poked his brother, "I'm pretty sure she was talking to you, dude, not me."
"Uh…" Tony pointed to the front door. "Let's talk about this outside, Becca."
"No!" Becca and everyone else in the room replied.
Bouncing Sierra in her arms, Gina explained as tears slipped down her cheeks, "This is my fault, I freaked her out talking about being married to guys who put their life on the line at work."
"Way to go, Honey," Reggie sarcastically cheered. "She told you she's a head case, taking Zoloft and Xanax, what made you think it was a good idea to scare the crap out of her with your 'he could die at any moment' morbidity? And about that…would you drop it already, Gina! You knew what I did for a living when you asked you to marry me and I made it crystal clear I never wanted to do anything but fight fires. When you said you could deal, you were lying, you've admitted that, you thought you could change me. Jesus Christ, how many times are we going to have this argument! For the last time, no, I'm not pussing out and taking a job with the Fire Marshall. I never said I would! Every guy in my company has a wife and kids and you promised…"
"Hey!" Dennis scolded his boy from across the room. "I know the history here, and I know you're right, Reggie, but back the hell off before I smack you to the ground! She just had your baby twenty-four hours ago and she's dripping hormones. Show a little respect! After all, the only reason she's worried and crying is because she loves your sorry ass."
Becca held out her pill bottle. "Have you ever considered, Xanax, Reggie?"
"I'll pass, thanks." After a deep breath in and out, he walked over and took Gina in his arms. "I'm sorry, Baby."
"I'm sorry for bringing it up again when I promised to drop it."
As the couple embraced in the middle of the room, Becca said, "At the risk of sounding self-centered, which I am…what about me, Pop? I know I'm the new chick, but why aren't you yelling at Tony to answer my question? Is it an 'ignoring the middle child thing' or what?"
Dennis smiled at his middle son, "For Christ's sake, Anthony, answer your wife's question already."
"Thank you." Becca smiled at her father-in-law. "That's more than my own father has done for me in decades."
"You're welcome, Sweetheart." It had become abundantly clear why his son adored the young woman…she was incredibly needy, which meant the probability of her walking out of his son's life was slim to none.
"What!" Tony threw his hands in the air. "You expect me to tell her I love her for the first time while Jeopardy is on and you're all staring at me like I'm a circus sideshow freak? That's not special or romantic!" Grabbing the doorknob, he flung open the door. "Yo, Becks! If you would have listened to me before when I asked you to step outside, we would already be on the beach, under the moonlight, but nooooooo, you…" Before he could finish his statement, his wife whizzed by him and ran out the front door.
The Grissoms
9:45 p.m.
After walking into the house, Sara watched Gil set the alarm as she crouched beside Flash, scratching his head. "At least we didn't run into Mrs. Rodgers tonight."
Gil checked his watch to see how long his wife had gone without bringing up the new neighbor. Ten minutes, longer than I expected. "Feel like taking a swim?" Because you really could use a little relaxation.
"From the look of the sky when we were driving home, I think we're going to get more rain tonight. Besides, I'm beat." She yawned. "All I want to do is sleep in your arms."
"I'm all for that," he replied on the way to kiss her cheek. "You're hitting that stage of pregnancy. From now until a few weeks into the second trimester, you could tire quite easily."
"I'll be fine as long as I get to bed early every night." Walking down the hall with Flash at her heels Sara said, "I don't want to look tired during our big meeting with the Sheriff tomorrow. I can't believe how secretive he's being with Jim. Nick thinks we're getting some kind of award because Carrie was asked to attend with us and the Sheriff's only comment to Jim was 'it's in Stokes' best interest to have her there'."
"He's an optimist," Gil chortled. "I think we're getting our asses chewed out about something. I'm so confident, I bet him twenty bucks."
"So did I."
"Then Nick will be forty dollars lighter this time tomorrow and doubly pissed off. When will that boy learn to think the worst so he's not disappointed?"
"Maybe we're all getting fired?" Sara laughed while peeling off her clothes to switch to pajamas. "After a day like today, I'm not sure I'd mind. I'm getting a little tired of seeing dead teenagers…dead people of any age." Except Mike, she dreamt of the day he showed up in the morgue on a marble slab.
Tossing everything but his boxers, Gil followed his wife into their bathroom for their usual 'brush and floss bedtime routine'. "At least we caught the bastard who killed her…and quickly I might add." Grabbing the toothpaste, he squeezed a dollop on Sara's toothbrush, then his.
"Thanks." Handing her husband a paper cup of water she droned, "Now we have to wait and see if his sleazy lawyer gets him out of it."
Don Schultz's Residence
10:01 p.m.
Sitting at his desk, staring at the white board full of bullet points, Don knew he wouldn't sleep a wink that night. Not because he was worried, his restlessness was solely attributed to his excitement over the meeting.
One by one, he read the points listed, enjoying each one more than the next. It was all good, fantastic actually. Where to start had been the only hard part, but ultimately he went with his client's suggestion: 'Attack Nicky first. He'll break the quickest and once the others see him crumble, they'll all jump to soothe him, and when they're busy thinking 'poor Nicky, how could he do this to him?' do it to them. They'll never know what hit them.'
"Yep, we're doing it your way, Michael. First and foremost, I'll tear Stokes to shreds. After that, I'll make Greg Sanders miserable."
The Four Seasons Maui
7:09 p.m. HST
"That was the worst sex ever!" Greg declared before puking into the toilet a second time.
They had left the luau early after feeling a mutual romantic urge, but five minutes into the loving the room started spinning and shortly after that, Greg clutched his stomach and made a dash for the bathroom. "You can't help being sick, Sweetie." Tawny dampened a washcloth. "You have food poisoning."
"Are you sure you're not nauseous? Food poisoning when you're preg…"
She turned away while he was in progress. "Thankfully pregnant women are advised not to eat shrimp."
"Right." Panting from the strenuous hurling, he took a seat against the wall, enjoying its coolness. "I'm so sorry."
"Would you stop! It's not your fault! You didn't ruin anything!"
"Why wasn't this on the itinerary? I wouldn't have gone there if this was on the itinerary."
"Carrie's an obsessive planner, not a fortune teller."
"I'm never eating shrimp again. I'm lobbying Congress to get it banned."
"Here." She placed a fresh wash cloth on his head.
"Thanks." He held it in place with a trembling hand. "We have the waterfall hike tomorrow morning." Gulping air he said, "I think this is karma. I'm being punished for playing hooky. I'm supposed to be at that big meeting with the Sheriff tomorrow. Nick's covering for me."
"Yeah, okay, the karmic gods made you sick because you're missing a stupid meeting. I'm going with the luau place didn't refrigerate their shrimp properly. I'm gonna get Carrie to sue their pants off." After kissing his clammy forehead, she walked toward the door. "I'll get you some Sprite from the mini bar."
"Hey…you didn't get sick…when I got sick."
"Hey!" She smiled excitedly. "The morning sickness stage is over! I've got my iron stomach back. Yay!"
"Always a silver living," he whispered as his eyes shut. "See, I'm learning to be a more positive person just like you, Princess. Hey! Do you think my mother poisoned me at breakfast? Maybe she put something in my juice when we went back to the buffet. Now that I think about it, it tasted kinda funny. We should take a blood sample just in case I die."
"Is that your idea of being positive, Chuckles?" Tawny asked from the doorway. "We're out of Sprite, so I'm going to run to the bar and get some ginger ale. That's better for this anyway. Be right back."
"Okay." He winced as his stomach cramped. "Maybe the first activity at the rehabilitation center was making voo doo dolls and my Mommy Dearest has one of me with a giant pin through the stomach, because that's what this feels like. Uh…I…I just have this feeling..." The room started spinning out of control again. "This feeling, that…something bad…is gonna happen." He fumbled for the toilet. "Taw…" Instead of vomiting, he passed out, hitting his head on the marble tub in the process.
Author's Notes:
Uh oh…I sure hope Greg doesn't get amnesia! "Tawny? Who's Tawny? Can someone call my Mom and tell her I had an accident." HA! Wouldn't Bev love that!
This was my favorite chapter of the 4 so far and I really like what's ahead and hope you do too. I feel like I have all the characters fleshed out and now I can take them and have fun writing them now because they're so familiar. I hope it's reading that way.
My husband loved the scene at the Vartanns when Becca had her meltdown. He said "It was fun watching the family dysfunction of regular people as opposed to freaks like Gil and Sara, and it was nice to give the Stokes family a break." LOL I hope you liked it too. If only Becca had gotten her ass out the door when Tony asked!
I think Carrie's dealings with Delores enough to forgive her for her shopping faux-pas. LOL
Having dinner with the gang was fun to write. I wanted Ellie to show her mischievous personality while still following the rules of recovery. Like Lady Heather, she likes to push people out of their comfort zones. I think they'll work well together. She also has her daddy's sense of humor.
The Gil and Sara toothbrush scene is just how I picture them now…very calm night's unwinding in the comfort of routine and easing into the loving. :D
Although we know who killed Nina, the drama isn't over yet!
Thanks to:
KJT for pointing out what should be obvious to me by now LOL
Next Chapter: Night turns into morning and finally…it's meeting time! Oh, and someone dies. Posting: Late Saturday/Early Sunday
Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts! I hope everyone is having a GREAT summer!
Maggs