Laws of Motion – Book 3
Written by: Ms. Maggs/Edited by: KJT
Chapter 6
Monday, September 26, 2005
Sheriff Burdick's Office
2:12 p.m.
"I apologize, Mr. Schultz," Burdick groveled, "CSI Sanders is out on emergency medical leave and can't be with us today."
"Really? Is that what you were told?" Don walked over and stood in front of the ignorant man. "Greg Sanders is in Maui staying at The Four Seasons Hotel with his incredibly sexy ex-stripper wife who is pregnant with his twins because he was stupid enough not to wear a condom on their first date. While in Maui, he's taken a helicopter tour and dined at Spago, specifically loving the Crème Brulee. Last night he went to a luau and unfortunately came down with food poisoning after eating some bad shrimp. Good news though, after a stint in the ER, he's on the road to recovery."
Oh my God, we are so screwed! Nick thought as he gaped at the weasel laughing in the center of the room. "I didn't even know he got food poisoning and he's one of my best friends," he muttered without thinking.
"Ever since my client married Marlene Cooper, he's asked me to keep tabs on his stepdaughter and son-in-law. Don't feel bad, Mr. Stokes, I'm sure Greg just didn't want to worry you when you were already overtaxed and covering for him at work."
"Yeah."
Anger filling her, Sara tossed out a question, "Did your client send Greg a Hallmark Get Well card?"
"No, he asked me to send a cookie and cracker basket." Don smirked, "What made you think he'd send a Hallmark card?"
"Do you have a written agenda for this meeting?" Carrie pointedly asked in an attempt to get things moving. Lord knows you have a hidden one.
"No, Ms. Blake, but I do have a theme." Moving over to the white board in front of the room, he picked up a red marker and wrote 'Truth vs. Perception'. "Sorry I don't have handouts. I'm sure if you were running this meeting, we'd have a very nice binder of information because you're an extremely detail-oriented and organized person, Ms. Blake." Smiling warmly he said, "I did my research on you and I'm in awe of your accomplishments."
"Thank you," she warily replied, hating to say something nice to the man who was planning to rip them to pieces.
Ready to launch his first guided missile, Don approached the table. Like the quickest way to get from Point A to Point B is a straight line, the quickest way to get Nicky pissed is to go after you, my dear. "You were homeschooled and started college level work when you were fourteen, is that right?"
"Yes."
He took a seat on the edge of the table in front of her. "Finished law school at the top of your class and were the youngest prosecutor in Seattle history."
"That's correct." She knew a hit was coming next and shot Nick a smile that said, 'I'm okay'.
"Was it your horrific childhood sexual abuse that motivated you to dedicate your career to prosecuting sex offenders?"
"Absolutely."
"This swim coach who molested you repeatedly over the course of a year when you were an innocent and no doubt, terrified little girl, he died in prison shortly after his sentence, didn't he?"
In that moment, only minutes after the meeting had begun, Nick already felt the urge to tear the bastard's head off his scrawny shoulders. Then he saw Jim snap his rubber band and did the same.
"Yes, he did," Carrie casually replied as if the man was inquiring about the weather.
"Do you think your father had your abuser executed?"
"No."
"A bunch of people in California did at the time though, didn't they?"
Instead of reacting, she sipped from her bottle of water.
"Do you think it's odd that the woman who brutally tortured and raped your fiancé when he was nine was also executed in prison shortly after she arrived?"
While Nick tensed, Carrie relaxed in her chair. "No, I don't think it's odd, because a significant number of violent acts occur in the prison system daily, especially to pedophiles."
"Very true." Getting up from the table, Don returned to the middle of the room. "I'm glad you were able to bounce back from such a devastating experience and draw from it to help others, Ms. Blake."
"Thank you."
Don glanced around, briefly making eye contact with each person. "Do you know what makes Ms. Blake unique from all of you? Aside from her being a lawyer that is? She's the only one in this room that isn't hiding a skeleton, or a bunch of skeletons…like Mr. Stokes and Mrs. Grissom for example."
Sara's heart rate soared as she wondered to which skeletons he was referring. One has to be the almost-DUI, because Mike threw that in Gil's face in Tahoe. The only solace she had was the knowledge that her observant husband was silently sizing up the rat bastard for a future rebuttal.
"Ms. Blake is what she is…an honest, compassionate, hard working attorney who has never committed a crime or injured another person in any way. Just yesterday, she was seen helping a homeless woman for goodness sake." Don quickly walked to the white board and pointed to his theme. "When it comes to truth and perception, they are one and the same for Ms. Blake. I wanted her here today for several reasons, one of which was to be a representative of that concept."
Jim wished he could tell Don Schultz his perception of him and the shit meeting, but he followed Carrie's suggestion and kept his trap shut.
Pretending he just thought of it, the attorney walked over and apologized to Nick. "I'm sorry for being so casual about something as painful as your childhood abuse, Mr. Stokes, or your fiancée's for that matter. Forgive me."
"Sure, not a problem," Nick lied, hating everything about the man.
"Like Ms. Blake's abuse fueled her to be a top notch prosecutor, do you think it was your abuse and distrust of women that prompted you be a ladies man, sleeping with scads of women without committing yourself to one until you met a saint like Carrie, who is actually very much like your mother. Hmm…what would Freud say about that?" he snickered.
"What does my sex life have to do with your client?"
"Funny you should ask." Don pointed to the words on the board. "Is it the truth that you slept with a prostitute named Kristy Hopkins on the night she was murdered in her home?"
Not again. Will this ever stop following me! "Yes, but as her friend, not a client."
"Did you murder her that night?"
Screw you! "No, her murderer is behind bars."
"But at first, it looked pretty bad for you didn't it? With your semen-filled condom found at the scene and signs of you being all over Ms. Hopkins, her bed, and her home, everyone's perception was that you were guilty even though you maintained you didn't kill her."
"Not everyone thought I was guilty." Nick looked over at Carrie, proud that he was staying calm and answering the questions properly.
"Do you agree that sometimes people can look very guilty, like you certainly did that morning, when in fact they are innocent?"
Nick replied with an answer he knew Grissom would love, "Absolutely, that's why as CSIs, we never presume guilt, we wait for the evidence."
"In 1981, when Samantha Hatcher died in a tragic hiking accident, the perception was that Mike Rodgers was innocent, just as he claimed to be. He said he tried to save his fiancée when she slipped off the edge of the mountain they were hiking on, but unfortunately, she fell to her untimely death. He called the police, and after an investigation, the authorities ruled Samantha's death as accidental." Don pointed to the board, "Truth and Perception matched, and it stayed that way until September of 2004, when Dr. Grissom decided to re-open the Hatcher case, for reasons we'll delve into later."
It came as no surprise to Gil, who had figured that was on the man's hidden agenda. He knew what his reasoning would be too…jealousy over Sara dating Mike.
Sighing, Don said, "Mr. Stokes, imagine twenty years from now, after decades of clean living and hard work as a CSI protecting and serving the people, you were suddenly charged with Kristy's murder. That's exactly what happened to my client. He was working hard as a police officer one day and the next day, he found himself under arrest."
Nick was too terrified by the concept to try to imagine it in detail.
"In the time preceding Mike's unjust arrest, you and he were buddies and you had gotten to know each other pretty well…well enough for you to introduce Ms. Sidle to him and encourage her to date him. Do you always introduce your friends and co-workers to people you think are capable of murder?"
"I didn't know Mike was a murderer when I introduced him to Sara."
"But aren't you a perceptive guy? You have to be to do your job, right? How could you be so off the mark about Mike?"
It was a question that Nick had asked himself a million times. "Because your client is a master of deception."
"So, after thinking Mike was a terrific guy worthy of dating one of your closest friends, you now honestly believe that he killed his first love, Samantha?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because the evidence proved he was."
"You're referring to the evidence handled by Mr. Grissom and Ms. Willows…wait." Don looked over at Catherine. "Are you keeping Willows, or are you changing to Brown now that you married your co-worker on Saturday night?"
"Wow, good news travels fast," Catherine smiled. "Willows professionally, Brown personally."
"Thanks for clearing that up for me."
As he watched the lawyer's wheels turn, Gil's mind was working overtime imagining horrible outcomes of the meeting. Mike's freedom was only one of many possibilities.
"We'll get back to Mike soon, but let's talk about you for a while, Mr. Stokes." Don waited for Nick to finish gulping water, and then asked, "When you were about to be charged with murder, it was Ms. Willows who found the evidence to clear you, correct?"
"Yes."
"Refresh my memory, Ms. Willows. How did you manage that?"
After clearing her throat, she gladly explained, "I returned to the crime scene with fresh eyes and I noticed a cord, the type used to tie back curtains. I had a copy of Kristy's autopsy photo with me and observed that the pattern of the cord matched the markings found on her neck. I brought the cord back to the lab and requested that it be checked for epithelials. They were found and they matched to Jack Willman's DNA, which we had on record because he had a prior for sexual assault." She smiled at Nick. "With a murder weapon, a DNA match and a motive, Mr.Willman was charged and Nick cleared."
Don glanced over at Carrie. "As a skilled attorney, what would you have done if you found out that the investigator who handled the evidence that ultimately cleared Mr. Stokes was also an extremely close friend of his?" He admired her poker face. "That's okay, I can understand why it's awkward for you to field that question truthfully, so I'll say what I think. Jack Willman had a court-appointed defense attorney who got his degree in a Cracker Jacks box. If you had been his defense attorney, Ms. Blake, there's no way he'd be serving twenty-five years for murdering Kristy."
Nick's breathing quickened. I can't believe he's going where he's going!
Too excited to sit still, Don jumped up from the table and hurried over to the future Mrs. Stokes. "I'm right, aren't I? Ms. Blake, you would have had that cord with the epithelials thown out. Without it, there wouldn't have been a case against him. Come on…what's the point of denying it?"
"It's an interesting scenario," was all she conceded, while agreeing strongly.
"It is, but it gets better. I know you weren't around back then, but did Nick tell you who the DNA Tech was who tested the epithelials for Ms. Willows?"
Fronting to hide her panic over Nick being painted as a murder suspect, Carrie calmly replied, "No, he's never mentioned it." But I think I can guess who it was.
Don strolled over to Sofia. "You were the Quality Control Officer on the case, Ms. Curtis. Would you tell Ms. Blake who it was?"
Hating where the nasty little man was going with his line of questioning, Sofia took a deep breath, and then answered what she figured the jerk already knew, "Greg Sanders."
"Can you believe that, Ms. Blake!" Don rushed back to the woman who was finally starting to squirm. "Only minutes ago, your fiancé said he was Greg's best friend, right? Not that it wasn't obvious, since he was just the Best Man at Greg's wedding. Can you imagine being given a case where the suspect's good friend found the previously missed evidence and then his best friend produced the DNA test results that ultimately saved his ass? Talk about a gift. Even if it was the truth, and Mr. Willman's DNA was really on the cord, my perception is 'well now, wasn't that all very convenient in the eleventh hour!' There's no way in hell that cord and DNA evidence would have stayed in play on my watch, which would have meant that your fiancé would have remained the one and only suspect. Hell, he might even be serving time in Ely today."
Nick corrected the man's perception, "That was years ago. Greg wasn't my best friend then, like he is now."
Carrie cringed and waited for the obvious retort.
"Yeah, I'm sure his status soared after he got your ass out of a murder rap." Leaving Carrie, Don retuned to his original spot sitting in front of Nick. "You better hope a skilled attorney doesn't offer to help Mr. Willman, because if he were to be freed, the DAs office could choose to go after you instead. You never stood trial for murder, Mr. Stokes, so double jeopardy isn't an issue."
"I didn't kill Kristy," Nick informed the asshole through gritted teeth. Then, just as he was about to pop, he felt Sofia's hand squeeze his under the table and he remembered to breathe.
Sitting directly across the way from her man, Carrie could see he was clutching Sofia's hand under the table. Instead of being jealous, she was grateful and she prayed the quick gesture would calm him down.
Lifting her water bottle with a shaky hand, Sara attempted to quench her thirst and stave off her panic which was growing exponentially as she watched her friends being slayed.
"Excuse me, Mr. Schultz…" In an effort to not look like he was being blackmailed into silence, the Sheriff felt compelled to say something positive. "At the risk of sounding biased, these are good people you're talking about, not ethically and morally corrupt liars." Like you, or me for that matter.
The comment was so perfect Don could barely stop his squeal of delight. If he had given the dolt a script, it wouldn't have been that well written. "You think so, huh?"
"Yes."
"Let's focus on morals then, shall we?" Sticking with the plan, Don continued focusing on Nick. "Mr. Stokes, you said you slept with Kristy as a friend, not a client, which I take to mean you didn't pay her for the sex you had that night?"
"That's correct."
"Have you ever paid for sex?"
"No."
"Have you ever gone to the Cottontail Ranch, a legal brothel just outside of Clark County?"
Dammit! I forgot I told Mike that story! Unable to look at Carrie, he replied, "Once. One of my good buddies from A&M was gettin' married and his best man had the bachelor party there."
"And you partied with a girl named Copper, correct?"
"I think that was her name, yeah," Nick droned while staring at the table top in front of him. He couldn't believe Carrie was being subjected to hearing this crap.
"I called and verified that the working girls at the Cottontail Ranch don't work for free, and they never have."
Ready to shut him down, Nick huffed, "You asked me if I ever paid for sex and my answer was 'no' and it's still 'no', because the Best Man footed the bill that night."
"Ha! You got me! That's good, because it's not fun for me unless there's some chance I can be wrong." Don clapped as he walked over to Carrie. "You should be proud of your fiancé, Ms. Blake, for his legalistic reply, not the fact that he went around the world with a whore-for-hire. Sorry, I'm sure a nice girl like you doesn't even know what 'around the world' means, but itwould be rather awkward for me to explain it in great detail. With his penchant for bedding ladies of ill repute, I do hope you had him checked for diseases before letting him impregnate you."
Her cheeks blushing, Carrie sipped from her water bottle, wishing the liquid was colder and that this meeting from hell was only a nightmare from which she'd soon wake.
Catherine checked her watch. "How much longer are we going to be here? Because I have this thing with my daughter this afternoon."
"Sorry, I've only begun." The collective groan in the room thrilled him. "Ms. Curtis, you're a Quality Control Officer, tell me…how is the quality of Mr. Stokes' control?"
"His casefiles are..."
"No, no, not in the lab, I was referring to his performance in bed. The two of you dated, did you not?"
Nick remembered Mike asking about Sofia at a bar one night and being a drunk idiot, he spilled personal details, even embellishing at times.
He'd be so easy to kill, Sofia silently declared. "We dated for a brief period, but it's not against department policy unless one person is in a supervisory role, so we weren't breaking any rules."
"Oh!" Don cocked his head and pretended to think about the point. "Let me see if I've got this department policy straight, Ms. Curtis. You could get drunk at bars and have wild sex with Mr. Stokes because he wasn't your supervisor at the time, but let's say…hmm…if Dr. Grissom, for example, had wanted to shack up and have sex with Ms. Sidle back when she reported to him, are you saying they would have been violating department policy?" Winking at Sara he said, "Yeah, I'm planning on addressing that later."
Gil checked that one off his list of bad possibilities.
"Ms. Curtis, were you sleeping with Mr. Stokes during the Kristy Hopkins case?"
"No, I barely knew him back then."
"Okay, thank you. You're right, I don't see much of a problem there." Don moved on like he was done with her.
Carrie knew he wasn't done with Sofia, something more was coming and she wished Nick would make eye contact with her.
"To recap, Mr. Stokes," Don took a seat in front of him again. "We've established that you enjoy the company of prostitutes and you've managed to have lots of sex with at least two of them without paying…which is really a nice deal if a guy can get it. But the problem is…" He reached into his briefcase and pulled out an affidavit for him to see. "I have a signed statement from a cute little red head named Tisha who said she met you at a dive bar named Sonny's and then had sex with you for money. Sorry, that's not quite correct…Ms. Curtis was also there with you. Right here on this page, Tisha said she was hired to engage in a variety of kinky sexual activities with both of you
Catherine's eyes popped wider. Whoa.
In seconds, Carrie was replaying a conversation she had with her fiancé during which he told her threesomes were just an old college thing. He lied. Suddenly it was crystal clear why she had been told to sit directly across from her fiancé and Sofia. She was supposed to visualize them together as Don shared disgusting details of their past.
Watching her friends suffer, Sara considered leaving the room for the first time. There are other jobs, but I really don't want this bastard to win.
"She wasn't a prostitute, she was an exotic dancer," Sofia snapped, losing her patience for the first time.
Don countered, "According to Tisha's statement, the first time the two of you came into the bar, you got loaded and then Mr. Stokes paid her to give you a lap dance. Is that correct?"
"That's not illegal."
"That's a yes," Don snickered. "This next part is most definitely illegal activity though. Tisha states that during the dance, Mr. Stokes offered to pay her if she would come home with the two of you and participate in a variety of sexual activities. After her shift was over, the three of you took a cab, because you were all too drunk to drive…it's nice to know some people actually are careful about that sort of thing."
Sara winced at the comment and saw Jim and Gil both take their eyes off Sofia, to look at her. Yeah, I know, he's talking about me.
"When the three of you arrived at your apartment, Mr. Stokes said he wanted to watch for a while before joining in. Tisha recalls the experience being very amusing, Ms. Curtis, because it was your first time with a woman and Mr. Stokes was very sweetly coaching you from the sidelines before he joined in to provide hands-on guidance. Apparently the whole reason the two of you went out that night was to find a woman to party with, because you had expressed disappointment that you never experimented in college because you were too shy."
That's when Carrie knew it was true, because she knew first hand how patiently Nick could coach a girl through a new experience.
Sofia sat speechless, as the man kept stunning her with pathetically accurate details. I can't believe we have to sit here and take this bullshit!
"To summarize, Ms. Curtis, I don't care if her W-2 said she danced for a living. When Tisha was being compensated for getting it on with the two of you, she was a prostitute and you were engaging in illegal activity. Call me crazy, but I really don't think CSIs should break the law at night and help enforce it by day."
"What part of 'we didn't pay her' don't you understand!" Nick boomed, making everyone in the room jump. He was nauseous knowing Carrie was across the way feeling mortified and he couldn't bear to look at her. "Yes, we met Tisha at the bar, I bought Sofia a dance, and there was talk of partying together, but it was for kicks, not cash. I don't care what the bitch signed her name to in that statement, because I'm sure you paid her to do it. If you want to haul my ass into court and say all that bullshit, go ahead!"
Don couldn't have been more pleased with the emotional reaction. "Mr. Stokes, do you also think I paid Ms. Curtis's neighbor, who signed this statement attesting that your little dancer pal was seen leaving the apartment counting cash just as Tisha said she did? The neighbor's perception is that the two of you were highly inconsiderate, filthy-mouthed, loud lovers who liked to bang each other the second you stumbled into the apartment drunk off your asses. Consequently, she could hear everything without even trying to eavesdrop. She goes on to say that most of the time you just did each other, but on occasion you'd bring home a girl for hire, one of whom she identified from a photograph of Tisha." Watching them steam, Don politely asked, "Are you saying that's not the truth even though the evidence shows it is and witnesses substantiate it? Or is this just another one of those things that looks bad for you, Mr. Stokes, but really isn't?"
Choking on the smell of his dirty laundry, Nick did what little he could to preserve the ounce of pride he had left. "Tisha stole that cash from Sofia's wallet, that's why she had all that money. Sofia told her to take twenty bucks for cab fare and she helped herself to the two hundred instead. I even went to Sonny's and confronted her the next day." He felt everyone, especially Carrie, gaping at him in disgust.
"Where were you and Ms. Curtis when this alleged robbery was happening? Too occupied in the bedroom to notice?"
"Yes."
"Did you report the robbery?"
"No."
"Because you didn't want to be discovered having sex with a prostitute again, right?"
"Give it up," Nick snarled.
"Come on, Stokes!" Schultz leaned in to get directly into the angry man's face. "Why the hell should I believe you, when I have evidence that points to the contrary? Talk about a double standard! Does everyone here see how this works with him? Give me a break! When it's his ass on the line and the evidence makes him look guilty as sin, it doesn't matter, but if it's someone else, like my client for example, then the evidence counts!"
"I've had enough." Nick bolted for the door to end the humiliation his innocent fiancée was enduring. "I don't need this shit or my job."
Don took a seat and waited for everyone to comfort and persuade their wounded comrade.
Just as Sara was about to join Nick, and bolt, she heard Carrie yell.
"Nicky! Don't!" the frantic fiancée pleaded, nearly in tears. "Please, look at me! I'm not going anywhere, and I don't just mean that in the context of this meeting. You can't let him win. That's exactly what Rodgers wants. He's trying to make you quit…to make us break up. Look at me, nothing's changed. Sure, this stinks and it's embarrassing, but it's not even close to some of the other things we've endured and survived, right? I know you want to leave so I don't have to listen to this anymore, but don't worry about me, I'm tough, remember? Listen to me, I know who you really are. You're a great guy who is working at the lab and at BPAC, trying to make this city a better place, and come November, I'll proudly walk down that aisle and become your wife. Don't open that door!"
Releasing the doorknob, Nick looked at his fiancée for the first time since things got ugly. "Thank you, Sweetheart."
"And if that mush isn't enough to sway you," Catherine pointed to the empty seat across the way, "get your ass back in that chair, because I'm not covering your shift if you get fired."
Nodding, Jim urged, "If you leave now, you'll miss hearing what he says about me and I've got some really good skeletons. One time, when I was five, I stole a candy necklace from the five and dime. How friggin' pathetic is that? It should have been something much tougher like candy cigarettes or a BB gun."
"Thanks, guys." Nick took his seat and swallowed his pride.
From his position at the front of the room, Don explained, "I really don't get the animosity. Here I am sharing information with you and giving you an opportunity to explain your perspective instead of being a prick and just giving the sordid details to a reporter and letting the public form their own opinions about law enforcement officials and cover ups in this town. I think you owe me an apology, Mr. Stokes."
Switching to a snarkier tone, Nick sarcastically replied, "I'm very sorry, Mr. Schultz, please continue humiliating me in front of my fiancée, my boss and my friends." Grabbing his cell phone, he asked, "How about I call my mom on her cell and conference her in?"
"Much better, Mr. Stokes. I'm sure your arrogant big brother would be very proud of you for returning to the game with the proper cocky attitude. As far as the humiliation, now you know how Mike felt when Dr. Grissom decided to drag his good name through the mud."
"The difference is, Mike was guilty, while I'm not."
"That's your perception, Mr. Stokes, I don't believe it to be the truth." Don grabbed a marker and drew a chart. "Let's do this to keep track of everything as we go along, because there's so much."
To keep up the spirits of the group while the sleazebag drew on the board, Jim whistled the theme from Titanic.
"Ms. Blake gets the first column." Don scribbled the words 'Good Girl'. "Mr. Stokes is next." Grinning, he jotted 'Bad Boy', 'Solicited a prostitute on multiple occasions', 'Former murder suspect – cleared when friends conveniently 'found evidence and DNA', 'Fornicated with the lab's Quality Control Officer', 'Has a bad temper'.
When Catherine read the last item she remarked, "Come on, who wouldn't have a bad temper when they're being raked over the coals by you?"
"Oh, that's not in reference to today." Don pointed to his briefcase. "I have fourteen statements attesting to the fact that Mr. Stokes has anger-management issues."
Nick didn't even bother refuting that one.
Walking over to Catherine, Don said, "That really shouldn't be a surprise to you, Ms. Willows. After all, Mr. Stokes and his brother busted up one of your father's hotel rooms when they were beating the crap out of each other, did they not? And wasn't your husband present when Nick punched Wendy Blake's neighbor for calling Carrie a bitch when she was lecturing the jerk about his Peeping Tom son? If you don't believe me, there were a couple of officers on the scene responding to Ms. Blake's Peeping Tom 911 call."
Catherine glanced over at the other lawyer in the room who was rubbing her temples. "Sorry, Carrie, going forward, I promise to keep my mouth shut unless I'm asked a question."
"Okay, round two." Don rubbed his hands together before pulling up a chair in front of the agitated cowboy. "Are you gay, Mr. Stokes? Ever had gay sex? That is, when you weren't screwing prostitutes, dancers, Ms. Curtis, or the legion of other women you bedded in this town before getting engaged? I guess what I really meant to ask is, are you bisexual?"
Not the gay crap again. Nick shook his head. "No. Not currently, not ever."
Carrie felt very confident that her man wasn't hiding anything in regards to that topic.
Don relaxed in his chair, "So, you're not getting it on with your best buddy Greg, even though you were seen at Club Cue together and photographed looking very queer with him?"
"The answer is still no, and it won't be changing."
"You looked so gay it made the news in Dallas." Actually, that was thanks to me and my connections at Channel 3, but I won't be telling you that. "I bet your neo-con father loved that, huh? Hey, with a father like Judge William Stokes, I could certainly understand why you'd hide your bisexuality."
Nick huffed a laugh. "Come on, Donny, you just got done provin' that I'm a red blooded American male who used to love havin' two ladies in my bed at the same time, remember? I'm not gay or bi, I like women and I love my fiancée."
"Sooooo, this is another example of the evidence pointing in the wrong direction? Wow! That happens to you a lot, huh?" Although he had been initially pissed that Greg wasn't there, Don now realized it meant that he wasn't there to defend himself or set the record 'straight'. "You said Greg is one of your best friend's, how much do you know about his past?"
"Plenty."
"Would a red-blooded Texan like you still be comfortable being best friend's with Greg if you knew that he had homosexual encounters in his past?"
Not sure how to respond, Nick looked around the room for guidance and was happy when Grissom fielded the question.
"Greg's not here to explain his position, so…"
"I'll tell you his position," Don interrupted. "Sitting on the edge of his dorm room bed, with his roommate, an openly gay male, on his knees in front of him."
Jim shrugged, "So his roommate liked to pray, big deal, Greg said he was a religious guy."
Catherine didn't attempt to hide her laughter.
"To answer your question," Nick took a deep breath and defended his buddy, "no, it wouldn't matter to me, Greg would still be my friend, but I don't believe what you're sayin' is true because I've talked to him about college and he was infatuated with a girl, not a boy."
"Are you referring to Rebecca Turnbull, who coincidentally married your buddy Detective Vartann recently?"
"Yes."
"You people really do help each other out in that regard. Wendy Blake thanked you for helping lock Mike away by introducing you to Carrie. Dr. Grissom introduced Tawny to Greg. Greg introduced Sofia to Irving Jones, and your brother introduced Becca to Detective Vartann."
Sara sat there mouthing her thoughts to her lip-reading husband. How the hell does he know all that?
"Mr. Stokes, did you know Becca spent time in a Psych Ward during her junior year at Stanford?"
"No."
"She attempted suicide a few days after having an abortion in her ninth week of pregnancy. Here's a little more information…Greg Sanders drove her to the abortion clinic, but the baby wasn't his, it belonged to some filthy rich guy who didn't give a shit about her, much like her family from what I've heard."
Shaking his head, Nick reiterated, "No, I didn't know that, but so what?"
"Here's what…your good buddy Greg didn't tell you everything that happened when he was in college. My guess is, he left out that story because you were raised in a conservative, Christian household and he thought you'd be offended by the subject of abortion. Maybe that's why he didn't tell you about the homosexual activity he engaged in either, huh? And it wasn't just with his roommate, he'd go to gay bars and be openly flirtatious with men."
"What's your point?"
Don leaned in, "My point is, that even though Greg Sanders is your best friend, he keeps secrets from you, Mr. Stokes, and maybe, just maybe…so do some other people in this room."
Jim raised his hand. "Guilty! I didn't tell Nicky about the time I bet against Texas A&M in a bowl game because it would have broken his heart."
Catherine followed the lead. "I didn't tell him I think his head looked like a penis after he shaved his hair."
Much to his surprise, Nick found himself laughing. "Good to know, Cath, and I forgive you, Jim."
Don laughed along with the group. "Humor is an excellent coping mechanism, I'm all for it." A few seconds later he re-directed. "Here's the thing, Mr. Stokes…you were good friends with Mike until Gil Grissom convinced you to hate him."
"Gris didn't convince me, the evidence did."
"Ah ha!" Don rose from his seat. "But how do you know the evidence wasn't tampered with? Were you there when Dr. Grissom found Samantha Hatcher's bloody jacket at Wendy Blake's home? How do you know, you're nothing more than Gil Grissom's puppet?"
Gil's pulse soared. It's over. Unless we get a miracle, Mike will be moving in across the street by Christmas.
"I'll answer for you. No, you weren't there. As a matter of fact, the only two people who were there were Gil Grissom and Wendy Blake." Don snickered in the Master Criminalist's direction but said nothing. "Ms. Blake, remember how I told you that Jack Willman's defense attorney was a nimrod? Remember Mike's defense attorney during the trial? Brendan Louis? Same nimrod. After leaving the court-appointed defense attorney pool in 2003, the nimrod opened a private practice. Mike was experiencing cash flow problems at the time of his trial and Attorney Louis was the best he could afford." Don tossed up his hands. "You get what you pay for, right? Ms. Blake, if you had been hired to defend Mike, what would you have said about that bloody jacket?"
Hearing the last nail in the coffin being hammered, Carrie realized Mike would be walking out of prison an exonerated man. "I can't say, as I wouldn't have been able to take his case in the first place since he was charged with murdering my sister-in-law's sister."
Don turned to Nick. "What your fiancée is thinking is…the jacket would have been tossed out of evidence because Dr. Grissom and/or Wendy Blake had ample opportunity to tamper with the evidence before they called for backup. Backup who coincidentally turned out to be none other than Catherine Willows and Jim Brass…Dr. Grissom's closest friends." After a laugh he added, "And of course, it was everyone's favorite DNA Tech, Greg Sanders, who was called in to process the blood on the jacket."
His patience running out, Gil loudly commented, "Greg was called in because he was the top DNA Tech at the time and the only one trained and qualified to conduct PCR Analysis on highly degraded material. He was so good at it, he wrote a paper on the subject and was published. Greg analyzed Samantha Hatcher's jacket using cutting edge technology and the results proved that Mike's blood was on the jacket."
"You must have been very proud of your protégé."
"Yes, I was," Gil answered as his frustration mounted. "I still am."
After a steadying breath to temper his excitement, Don calmly asked, "Is that why you let him live in your old townhome rent free, because you're proud of him, or is it because he tampers with the evidence for you when you ask?" He chuckled, "Or do you swing both ways too and wanted to thank him for showing you a good time? Maybe it's a combo of all three. What about his wedding being held at your father's estate? That was awfully nice of you."
Sara jumped to defend her husband, "Sorry to disappoint you, but it was my idea to let him live in the townhouse. Greg was broke and living in a one bedroom apartment when Tawny got pregnant with twins. They're good friends of mine, and I wanted to take care of them, because I spent half of my childhood in foster care and know what it feels like to be cramped and uncomfortable. The townhouse was sitting empty and we don't need the money, so we let them live there for free. Same with the wedding. They needed a nice place and Gil's father is a generous man."
Turning on a dime, Don headed for Nick again.
"Miss me?"
"Yes. Your pal Sara just reminded me that I forgot to ask you something." Pulling up his chair, Don queried, "How did you afford that lovely new house and truck you bought this month?"
"The house was purchased with money that had been in trust for Carrie. Twenty years ago her father wisely invested the settlement money received from her abuser, and it grew into a small fortune. We opened a joint bank account and put the money in it." Since the details of the Sam Braun settlement included a confidentially clause, that was the official line Carrie had come up with for them to use when asked how their standard of living improved overnight. "We used the money to pay off bills, set things up for our family, and buy a few indulgences like big screen TVs and designer shoes. Then we focused on expanding BPAC, the charity I started with Sara."
"Nice memorizing."
Nick winked, "Thanks."
Don strolled to the white board whistling. "Let's make a 'new house' column. Who has found a nicer place to live since my client's trial? Nick and Carrie, Sara and Gil, Catherine and Warrick, Greg and Tawny, Jim…you just purchased a new home two weeks ago too. Hmm…" With the marker in his hand, he asked Sofia, "Are you going to move now that you know your neighbor is a snoop who ratted you out? Hey…did you know she was watching out her window the night you and Mr. Stokes broke up?"
Nick felt another stab of humiliation. Oh God, not that.
Sighing, Don approached Carrie. "If these revelations lead you to break off your engagement, you should know something, Ms. Blake." And I certainly do hope you break it off because that's one of the reasons Mike asked me to invite you here today. "You should call it quits with someone around to protect you, because Nick gets very angry when a woman pisses him off. He was screaming all sorts of unpleasant things at Ms. Curtis, who was in the hallway wearing only naughty black undergarments calling him a control freak because he didn't want to participate in some sort of kinky bondage game. The neighbor said Ms. Curtis screamed 'I slept with a woman for you, how dare you not do this for me! It's only handcuffs and hot wax!' I don't know about you, but my guess is that Nick doesn't like to be restrained while a woman hurts him, because it reminds him of being viciously violated as a child."
Sofia's hands covered her bright red face. In sixty seconds, I'm going to fake a seizure to get out of here. In sixty-one seconds I won't have to fake it.
"The nasty altercation finally ended when Sofia bared her soul telling your fiancé she cared about him and your man very bluntly informed her she was just someone he liked to screw. Apparently that revelation cut her deep, because she told him to die, and as soon as he was gone, she burst into tears. According to the nosy neighbor, she then proceeded to sob and throw things in her apartment for the next hour while cursing Nick's name. If that's not a sign of a broken heart, I don't know what is." Glancing over his shoulder, Don queried, "Did you know you hurt her that badly, Mr. Stokes?"
When she saw her fiancé was shell-shocked, Carrie answered for him, "Break-ups are emotional events for all parties involved, Mr. Schultz…and they're also very private."
"Only if you choose not to break up in a public place. Ding! I won that round! I feel so honored." Without warning, Don abruptly changed directions. "Who here hasn't received a promotion since my client was convicted? By show of hands." When Sofia was the only one he laughed, "I guess you were sleeping with the wrong guy. You should have been romping with Dr. Grissom. He's the one who makes promotions happen. Thanks to him, Mr. Stokes, Mr. Brown and Ms. Willows have all become supervisors. Also, when Dr. Grissom turned down the Director job he stipulated that Jim Brass must get it or he'd leave the lab…isn't that right, Sheriff?" The man knew the right answer to give.
Burdick droned, "Yes."
Don fought the urge to shout out 'Good Boy! For your treat, I won't take out my photo collection!' "Dr. Grissom also gave Greg his dream job as a CSI."
"I didn't give him anything," Gil snapped. "He worked hard, passed the required tests, and therefore deserved the promotion."
"I have no doubt all of the people promoted worked hard…doing your bidding. What about Tawny Sanders though? What did she do for you or your father to 'earn' her corporate position at BPAC? A pregnant twenty-one year old ex-stripper and waitress with a GED working for a corporation like IHMD makes me get curious. According to my sources, she didn't do much there, but got a nice paycheck just the same."
Knowing the job had been a joke and his father only hired her because he felt sorry for her , Gil curtly retorted, "You'd have to ask my father, as I had nothing to do with her being hired."
Don had a reply ready to go, "Then I think I know the answer. Your father has a reputation for liking the company of big-chested blondes, doesn't he? I'm sure he hired her to improve the view from his office…or Drew Stokes' for that matter. Ron Grissom also has a reputation for being very shrewd. I guess the apple didn't fall far from the tree, since you were able to manipulate evidence and convince people my client was guilty when really he was innocent!"
"Excuse me!" Knowing her friends needed a break, Catherine raised her hand, "I know we're not allowed to leave until you finish your act, but I need to use the Ladies Room. Is there a trashcan or a bucket I'm supposed to use, or do I just drop trou and pee on the floor?"
"While I'm sure an uninhibited ex-stripper like you wouldn't be embarrassed to show her ass…at your age, I'd rather not see that piece of ancient history."
"Hey! There's nothing wrong with my ass!"
Don laughed as he checked his watch. "Let's take a twenty minute break, because I need another triple shot and a slice of carrot cake from Starbucks." Holding his briefcase, he headed for the door. "Hey! Just in case anyone was thinking of using the opportunity to leave and not return…if you're not all here when I get back, the meeting will be over and I'll share my information with local news reporters instead." Then he pointed to Sara. "Can I bring you something from the liquor store across the street, or did you stop drinking for the sake of the baby?"
"Go to hell," Sara replied while hoping the man choked on his food.
"I'm sure I will." Don winked. "I'll be sure to say hi to your parents when I get there."
When the door shut behind the evil man, Sara stood and launched her water bottle at it. "Damn you!" Then, just as she was ready to burst into tears, everyone else in the room followed suit and hurled their bottles at the door in a show of support and frustration. "Thanks, guys." She hadn't been able to imagine how she'd get through her time in the hot seat, but suddenly it felt like there was a slight chance she'd make it.
"Oh, well," Jim sighed as he stood at the window while the couples in the room embraced. "Schultz made it across the street without getting killed. I guess we'll have to sit through more of this after all."
The Vartanns – Las Vegas
3:09 p.m.
After sitting in the car for hours, Tony was happy to be walking to the mailbox.
"I'll check Lady Godiva," Becca called from the garage, waiting for him so she could close the door.
With the mail in hand, Tony laughed, "Aww…hanging out with a baby made you go all maternal on me!" Maybe my mother was right, and there is a chance Becca would want to have a baby one day when she's stable.
"No, hanging out with a baby, made me appreciate my rat."
Or not. Tony unlocked the door leading from the garage into the house. "Home sweet home." He laughed when he saw his wife hurrying to the family room to check on the rodent. "She'll be fine. When I was a kid, we used to leave our rodents for a week with bowls of food and multiple water bottles."
"Yeah, but everyone bails on me!" she reminded him before seeing Lady Godiva alive and well. "Maybe my luck is changing."
Right as Tony was about to speak, Becca's cell phone rang in the purse she had over her shoulder.
"That's odd," Becca remarked when she saw Charlie's father's name in the display window. "Ugh! I know what this means. He only calls me to bitch about his son messing up." Flipping open the phone she grumbled, "What the hell did your irresponsible son go and do this time, Mr. D!"
"Die."
Watching the color drain out of his wife's face, Tony tossed the rat back in the cage and hurried over. "Becca?"
"H…how?" she squeaked while grabbing her husband's arm.
"Last night, he was shot in his hotel room," the devastated father replied in a quivering voice. "I just identified him at the morgue. There was…a bullet hole right between his eyes…my Charlie…he's dead…someone murdered him."
"No."
Clark County Crisis Center
3:13 p.m.
"No!" Celine screamed as the social worker introduced her to her foster care mother, Mrs. Grant, a fifty-eight year old Mormon mother of eight grown children. "This isn't happening! I'm not going anywhere with her! I want to go home! I want my father!" Tears pouring from her eyes like rain from a cloudburst, she pleaded, "I'll do anything. I'll give back everything I've ever taken! Please! Let me go home!"
"I'm sorry, Celine, it's just not possible." Talia gulped down the lump in her throat. "Aside from what we discussed yesterday, now your father has new problems with the law." She couldn't say specifically that he was suspected of calling in a hit on her sister's date, Charlie. "Living with Mrs. Grant is only temporary." It was the truth, because it was a bridge home, until other arrangements were made.
Mrs. Grant flashed her warmest smile. "Do you like Jell-o, Sweetie? I've got green and orange at home."
"Jell-o!" Celine fell to her knees sobbing. "No one really eats Jell-o! Oh my God! It's like one of those movies. I'm dead, only I haven't realized it yet. I'm dead just like Nina, and this is hell."
Author's Notes
I hope that was enough angst for the angst lovers, if not…there's more. :D It's Sara's turn in the hot seat next, although Don gets a few jabs in at everyone.
Yes, Celine…people really do eat Jell-o. They actually do laundry and cook too.
Becca's happiness streak just ran out, but at least she has a man with broad shoulders to lean on!
Thanks:
KJT for not catching that the year was wrong in every chapter of Book 3! LOL I feel so much better about my 50 typos per chapter now.
Next Chapter: The meeting continues while Warrick, Vega and Vartann work the case ofCharlie Dwyer. Posting: Late Monday/Early Tuesday.
Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts,
Maggs