Laws of Motion – Book 3
Written by: Ms. Maggs/Edited by: KJT
Chapter 8
Monday, September 26, 2005
Sheriff Burdick's Office
4:59 p.m.
Now that he had the group sufficiently off balance, Don began the third, and what he hoped would be the most intense, segment of his meeting. "Dr. Grissom, thank you for waiting so patiently for your turn." His mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Where did you first meet your wife?"
"Berkeley." Gil wasn't about to give the man more than required.
"How did you meet her?"
"She attended one of my guest lectures."
"How old was she?"
"Twenty-three."
"And how old were you?"
"Are you that bad at math?" Gil snarked. "You already made a big deal out of me being fourteen years older, fourteen plus twenty-three…"
"Thirty-seven."
"Correct." Gil gave a professorial nod of approval.
"When did you and Ms. Sidle have your first date? And who did the asking?"
Gil paused, wondering if the truth would work against him. Ultimately he concluded that Don already knew the answer and if he lied, the cad would only open a nastier can of worms. "I'm a gentleman, Mr. Shultz…I did the asking." Smiling at Sara, he knew her mind was in the same place…
In her ear, he asked in a husky whisper, "Tomorrow is my night off…yours too. How about dinner at my place? Seven o'clock?"
Delighted by the invitation into his inner sanctum she eagerly offered, "What can I bring?"
His honesty catching up with him, Grissom blurted his answer, "Pajamas."
Cracking up, Sara said, "Okay, I'm retracting my gentleman comment but you get bonus points for honesty."
Peeling himself away, Grissom shook his head. "I really said that out loud? And you wonder why I kept my mouth shut for so long."
"I'm saying goodnight now." Still laughing, Sara opened her door and stepped inside. "I need my rest…big date tomorrow."
Falling faster with each passing minute, he reluctantly replied, "Have a good evening, Sara."
"How could I not?" Knowing they were both mentally and physically exhausted from the stress of the last week, she lovingly said, "Try to get some sleep before shift, okay?"
Nodding, he watched her disappear behind the door.
"The date was September 28th, 2004 and we had a wonderful time, thank you for asking."
Ready to move in for the kill, Don pulled up a chair in front of Grissom. "So, Sara's plan to get your attention and make you finally care about her was a smashing success. Wait…I should backtrack for a moment." Counting off on his fingers, he stated, "The first time she tried was at Berkeley. Perhaps you remember Professor Antrim? You should, you slept with her on two occasions when you were there lecturing. Anyway, when we showed her a photo of Sara, she remembered her desperately trying to get your attention. Then, some years later, you asked Ms. Sidle to come to Vegas and work on the Holly Gribbs murder. I'm sure she thought 'this is it! He wants me!'" Shaking his head, Don heaved a dramatic sigh. "Alas, you only wanted her professionally, not personally."
Sitting across from her husband, Sara remembered how disappointed she was when she figured that out.
"According to the news report by the dearly departed Ana Silva, it took five years for you to give Ms. Sidle the relationship she had been longing for, but the question is…what was she doing all those years to get your attention?" Don chuckled hard. "According to co-workers, she wasn't wearing low cut shirts and throwing herself at you. That's Catherine's style, not Sara's."
"Aww, thanks, Don," Catherine tossed him a facetious wink and a smile. "I was feeling left out ever since you diss'd my ass."
"You're very welcome." Grinning, the anxious lawyer returned to his agenda. "Instead of acting like a tramp or a bitch around you, Sara was an obedient puppy. She followed you around, did everything she was told, and jumped through progressively higher hoops. For all that effort, you rewarded her by passing her over for promotions and dating classy women like Lady Heather. But she didn't give up, did she Gil? Noooo, she decided to play the jealousy card and she went out and found Hank the Hunky EMT, thinking he would do the job nicely."
"I wasn't trying to make him jealous," Sara corrected. "Ask Nick, he was there when I met Hank. We hit it off and started seeing each other shortly after that."
Nick was happy to pitch in. "Yep, the second they met, it was like I was invisible. Unfortunately, the guy was a lyin' pig who was engaged to another women and too chicken to break it off before Sara found out. It had nothin' to do with makin' Grissom jealous, she was totally bummed out when she broke up with Hank."
"I agree," Catherine interjected. "I took her out for a drink afterwards and she was really disappointed."
"Yeah," Don nodded, "I agree she was disappointed things didn't work out…with her plan to make Gil jealous, and when they didn't, she returned to puppy mode for a while. Maybe she even felt a little encouraged because you weren't dating anyone, Gil, but then her thirty-fourth birthday rolled around and she realized she wasn't any closer to snagging her dream man. Later that night she was in the field and according to several officers on the scene, she lost it. Do you remember that, Mrs. Grissom?"
Sara very calmly answered "I remember getting pissed at a rookie cop because he almost ruined the evidence that I needed to nail the animal who raped and killed an innocent teenage girl."
"Who was first on the scene?" Sara shouted out to the uniforms. "I want an answer now! Who was first in that room!"
"I…I was ma'am." The rookie cop stepped forward, a blond All-American type who barely looked old enough to gamble on The Strip. "I'm Officer Barnes. I was…uh…I was the first one in the room."
"Did you place a blanket over the victim?"
"I…"
Blood pressure rising, she got in his face. "Answer my question, dammit!"
"I couldn't just leave her…"
"Didn't they teach you anything at the academy? You don't tamper with the crime scene EVER! No matter what you see or how you feel!"
Nick rushed over, "Sara, calm down."
"No, I won't calm down!" Without thinking, she batted him away like a fly.
I'm really sorry," the cop pleaded, "She reminded me of my kid sister and I couldn't stand to…"
Raging, she continued to make her point. "What if that was your sister in there? What if an asinine move by a rookie cop destroyed critical evidence and her killer was never caught because of it? How would you like THAT! That body and that crime scene is that girl's last chance for justice. They need to talk to me and I can't help her if you screw up!"
"Sara was right to be pissed, because several pieces of key evidence had to be thrown out because of the Officer Barnes's move," Jim stated in her defense. "Barnes was reprimanded for it."
"Because my client took his job very seriously and made sure the rookie under his command was written up and punished accordingly…as he promised you he would, Mrs. Grissom."
Sara hated the reminder, because it was Mike's empathy that night that drew her to him.
For the millionth time, Nick cursed himself for making the ill-fated introduction.
"Hey, Sara! Over here!" With a silly smile on his face, Nick motioned for her to join him. "I want to introduce you to Lt. Mike Rodgers, a buddy of mine and…Officer Barnes's supervisor."
Sara flashed to anger, "I hope you got that punk's badge, because no one messes with my crime scene and gets away with it!"
Nick lowered his gaze thinking…what a way to make a first impression…bite the guy's head off. Much to his surprise though, Mike remained calm.
"Ms. Sidle," the officer warmly greeted the outraged CSI. "I completely understand your frustration and you have my word that Officer Barnes will be reprimanded. We'll put him back behind a desk until he can comprehend the serious nature of your work." Softly, he smiled, "I, on the other hand, do understand the importance of your job and thank you for your dedication. Without people like you nailing the bad guys, there would be a lot more creeps out there for us to catch."
His sensitivity diffusing her anger, Sara relaxed her stance. "Thanks."
Mike slipped a little closer. "I was wondering…you see I'm still pretty new in town …maybe you'd like to grab a cup of coffee and talk about the job some time? It's hard not having anyone to discuss things with after a long night at work and… " Shaking his head he lightly laughed, "I'm a little rusty at this forgive me. My wife…she died a little over a year ago and I haven't really asked anyone out in a while."
Staring into his empathetic brown eyes she replied, "Sure, I'll have coffee with you." She couldn't believe the words were coming from her mouth. Her head throbbed and her stomach churned, all she wanted to do was work the case until the sick bastard responsible for Jane Doe's death was hauled in. If she could have taken back the words…but it was too late. "Uh…how about 9 a.m. at the breakfast shop around the corner from the station? I'll just be taking a break though, so I won't be able to stay very long."
"No problem." Pleased with his success, Mike winked. "I'll see you then. Good luck with the case."
If only I hadn't done that, Nick thought as he realized all the suffering they were enduring led back to that one moment. A few seconds…a handful of words…and their lives had been changed forever. If Lt. Mike Rodgers had been assigned to a different case…if he had been off that day…if he had called in sick with a cold that night, all of them would have been spared this trauma.
Just as he was about to curse himself once more, Nick saw Carrie and remembered, if he hadn't introduced Sara to Mike, they wouldn't have met. Suddenly, a barrage of questions popped into his head. 'Was she worth it? Was Carrie worth Sara almost dying? Was she worth this exercise in frustration? Is she worth losing your job?' Yes! In his heart, he believed Sara's answer would be the same, because Carrie was her first real friend. Definitely. The next questions were tougher. 'Is Carrie worth Mike getting out of prison an exonerated man?' Yes! 'Even if he kills another innocent woman upon getting out?' He wanted to be a saint. He wanted to say No, then it wouldn't be worth it. I'd rather never have met her than see an innocent woman be killed at Mike's hands, but that answer never came. His pulse notching, Nick wished he could turn off his paranoid brain. 'Even if Mike's next victim ends up being Sara? Or Tawny? Or Wendy? Or little McKenna. How about then, Nicky? Would Carrie still be worth it then? What if his next victim is Carrie?' "No!"
All eyes darted to Nick, who quickly covered, "Sorry, I was snappin' at myself, because I just remembered I was supposed to call in on somethin' important for the Campbell case and forgot."
"Let's take a break then, Nicky." Don stood, stretching his legs. "I'm sure the pregnant ladies need a restroom break anyway." The frequent breaks were part of the plan to get the group to splinter and to catch some of them alone and needled them one on one.
"Thanks." Nick was thrilled to have a break and wished his overactive mind would take one too. "Would Carrie still be worth it if your first child ended up being Mike's victim? Sure it's an illogical question, because without Carrie, you wouldn't be having a baby with her, but what would you do?' Simple…if he murders my child, I kill him.
Outside Perry and Sons Mortuary
5:31 p.m.
"This is Dr. Michael Dwyer," Vega pointed to one of two DBs on the sidewalk as CSI Brown snapped photos. "My guess is he thought Campbell popped his kid, so he took him out."
"Cool, now I don't have to do my job," Warrick cracked, knowing how much Grissom hates Vega's tendency to give his opinion at the scene. "What are two of you here anyway?" he queried, wondering why both Vartann and Vega had been dispatched.
"I'm not working," Tony explained as he checked his watch and wondered how much time he should give Becca to recover from the shock over Charlie before telling her about this next drama. "I heard this call come in when I was at the station looking into this case because Becca and Greg were friends of Charlie Dwyer, this guy's son. Crouching down next to the grieving father turned murderer he quietly admitted, "I just talked to this guy on the phone a couple of hours ago. He called to tell my wife that Charlie had been killed."
"What did you tell him?" Vega pressed, worried that something his co-worker had divulged had incited the man to kill. "Because if you…"
"Hey! Back the hell off," Vartann snapped as he stood up. "I've been doing this friggin' job longer than you, remember? First of all, I know better than to share details of a pending investigation, and second…I didn't have anything to tell him, because Becca and I had only been back from California a few minutes when he called."
"Sorry," Vega flashed a friendly smile. "My cholesterol is through the roof and my wife has me on this diet from hell. I'm starving, and it's making me crabby as shit."
Warrick snickered as he crouched down to get a close up of Michael Dwyer's splattered brain matter, "I just had this big-ass burrito on the way over…extra guac. I think I'll get another one on the way back to the lab."
"That new place over on Stuyvesant? It's good, huh?" Tony nodded. "Fantastic, I think I'll grab a couple of overstuffed burritos from there before I go home to my hot tamale. Extra rice and beans and nachos with lots of high-fat cheese."
"Screw both of you." Sam grabbed another piece of sugar-free gum to shove in his deprived mouth.
"So, what did Dwyer tell you, Vartann?" Warrick lowered his camera. "Because, when we check phone records, you may be the last person to speak with him before he did this."
"Shit." A cop talking to a guy right before he went nuts and started shooting people was the stuff Internal Affairs loved to delve into on slow days. "Becca was talking to the guy until she got hysterical and dropped the phone. I grabbed her and it, then introduced myself."
"You tell him you were a cop?"
Vartann groaned, "Yeah, and then of course he wanted information, but I explained we had been out of town and I hadn't been to work since Friday and before I could tell him that I couldn't discuss a case with a civilian, he hung up." Staring at Campbell, who had bled out from what looked like four bullet wounds to the chest and gut, Tony shook his head. "Dwyer didn't sound like he was going to run out and do this. He sounded heartbroken, not violent or suicidal."
"Apparently something tweaked him." Chomping his gum, Vega wished it was an overstuffed burrito.
Sheriff Burdick's Office
5:35 p.m.
"I'm starving," Carrie informed her fiancé as they approached the vending machine at the end of the hall. "How long do you think he's going to talk?"
"Don't blame me," Don replied as he surprised the couple from behind. "I gave Ms. Sidle a shortcut, but she opted not to take it."
Dropping quarters into the vending machine, Nick laughed, "I don't expect that she will at any point either."
"Then maybe you will, Mr. Stokes."
"Come again?" Nick replied as he looked at Carrie.
"All you have to do is agree to tell the judge your friends conspired and we're done. Your fiancée can supervise the arrangements, so you feel comfortable that you're not getting hoodwinked."
"You want me to sell out my friends when they're not even wrong in the first place?"
"To save your own ass?" Don laughed. "Hell, yeah. People do it all the time."
"Fat chance." Turning his back, Nick returned to dropping change into the machine.
"Very well." With a devilish grin plastered on his face, Don walked away. "Oh…by the way…I've already been to Ely to see Jack Willman. I even have the paperwork filled out to request an appeal. Guess who would have to testify?" When he heard Nick's fist punching the vending machine, he cackled, "There's that temper I was talking about. Just imagine what I could do to you on the witness stand, Stokes. You'd crack faster than your brother at a whore convention!"
Carrie covered her fiancé's mouth and whispered, "Don't. It's what he wants." With her free hand, Carrie selected 'B9'. "Eat some Cheetos, the crunching will relieve your tension."
"Cheetos." Nick breathed out and smiled. "I remember that."
"Look what I have for you, Darlin'," Nick cheerily announced upon returning from the ball park snack bar. "You've only dreamed of them until now." When they were showering earlier she had given him a quick overview of her crazy Cheetos dream where he was too busy snacking on the forbidden carb to have sex with her…and then he wouldn't share the snack either.
Glancing up, Carrie saw her man dangling a bag of crunchy Cheetos. "HA!" Snatching the bag, she opened them like a giddy school girl. "Mmm…I've been craving these since my dream."
"I wish this damn meeting was just a crazy dream," Nick grumbled as he grabbed two bags of Cheetos from the machine's dispenser.
"Here's the plan." Carrie snatched her bag. "We take these back into the room and munch one every time we need to chill."
"I would have needed ten bags to get through that bastard rakin' me over the coals." Retrieving the two bags of M&Ms he just paid for, Nick said, "I hope these are enough for Sara, 'cause I'm outta change."
"It takes dollar bills."
"Oh, yeah," Nick rolled his eyes while grabbing his wallet. "I guess Schultz was right, I am a little slow on the uptake. Hopefully our kid will have your brain, Sweetheart."
"You're smart, Nicky."
"You think so?" He shot her a sideways glance, hoping she wasn't being sarcastic.
"Hell, yeah!" she replied in his customary accent and tone. Bringing a Cheeto to his mouth she winked. "You were smart enough to pick me, weren't ya?"
"Best damn decision I ever made," he sweetly answered before letting him feed her the cheesy treat. "Mmm. This was…"
"Recess is over, kids!" Don yelled from down the hall. "I bet you were always making out with a chick at your locker when the bell rang, right, Stokes!"
"Yeah!" Nick took Carrie's hand. "And I bet you're still a virgin, Schultz, because only a lifetime's worth of DSB could make a guy as nasty as you."
Don laughed at the retort. "Maybe I should ask you for the name of a good hooker to bang!"
Outside Perry and Sons Mortuary
5:40 p.m.
"He fired two shots," the shaken twenty-one year old girl who had been waiting for a city bus to get to her job at The Tropicana told the detectives. "Right after he yelled 'This is for Charlie'. I don't know what they were saying before that because I had my Ipod on. My mom's always yelling at me that I play it too loud and I'm going to damage my hearing, but I heard that loud and clear, and then I saw him pull out a gun. I was totally freaked, I still am."
"You're doing great, Miss," Vega encouraged.
Closing his cell phone, Vartann announced, "Don't worry about work, Andrea, I explained everything to your boss and he understands why you won't be coming in." On top of everything else, the poor girl was sure she would be fired if she had to stay and answer questions instead of catching her bus. She had explained that she already missed a day that week when her dog got hit by a car and had to be rushed to the vet.
"Thanks. Um…okay, after I heard the shots, I ran and hid behind that car." With a trembling finger Andrea pointed to an old battered station wagon. "He yelled a bunch of stuff, about his son dying, that I don't remember exactly. Then he yelled, 'I don't need your money!' and 'The cop at the hotel told me it was a hit!"
Vega and Vartann exchanged looks and then Sam said, "I'll check to see which cop is assigned to guard Charlie's room at The Royale as soon as we're done here."
Sheriff Burdick's Office
5:44 p.m.
"Sara went to your office and said she was done chasing you, right, Gil?" Don sat in the chair he had left in front of Grissom. "Then she asked you for vacation time, which she intended to use to go away with Mike to Tahoe. During the course of that meeting, you were interrupted by your former boss, Conrad Ecklie, who was forced to retire after being caught in a compromising position by Mr. Stokes and Mr. Brass."
Jim smiled, remembering the shining moment of his career.
Brass, finally getting over his speechlessness, exclaimed, "Who says you can't hit the jackpot in Vegas, Nicky?" Lowering his gun he cracked a sunny smile. "A guy could wait his whole career and never get a bust this good. This is better than Wendy Blake's banana bread fresh out of the oven." Right in front of them, in the skanky double bed of room 214, was none other than Conrad Ecklie.
Squirming like a trout on a line, Ecklie tried to break free, but since his hands and feet were bound to the mattress handles with leather straps, he didn't make much progress. Talking was also out of the question since he was expertly gagged with a black silk scarf. On top of the Assistant Director, was a very perturbed naked lady, who, with a wild mane of magenta hair and a Tijuana boob job, bore little resemblance to the conservative Mrs. Barbara Ecklie.
"Cops!" Flying high from the coke she just snorted off her john's chest, the hooker screamed, "Not what I friggin' needed tonight! Are you going to haul me in or can we work out a deal!"
Nick shook his head. "This can NOT be happening! I know I'm dreaming."
"You're not dreaming." Brass slapped his stunned co-worker on the back. "You have something you want to say to the big boss man who gave you shit for sleeping with a prostitute a few years back?"
Grinning, Nick asked, "What's her name? Candy or Brandy?"
The bodacious bondage babe answered on behalf of the gagged man flailing beneath her. "My name is Lucky."
"Mine too! Nick guffawed. "By any chance is your last name, Break?"
Don looked up from his notes and very casually asked, "Does anyone know what Ecklie's doing now?"
Gil was the first to reply, "Last I heard he was in Ohio working for a security firm and he was assigned to work at a mall."
Don nodded, "When I spoke with him last week he had just taken a new position as head of security for a University. Ecklie doesn't like you very much, does he, Dr. Grissom?"
"No." Gil shuddered to think of the lies Conrad had probably spewed.
"You know what I spoke to him about, don't you?"
Sara knew. Closing her eyes, she remembered Ecklie's glee as he busted her.
Narrowing his weasel eyes, Ecklie said, "Vegas seems larger than life but really it's pretty small…so small that when someone gets pulled into a police station on a DUI, even if she doesn't get booked, word gets around eventually. You got off lucky that night, Ms. Sidle and coincidentally who came to your rescue? Who came and took you by the hand and escorted you out of the station? What is it that you do around here to deserve such special treatment?"
Blindsided by his intimate knowledge of her failure as well as his veiled accusation, Sara stared at the floor.
"It was the Officer's decision to extend a professional courtesy!" Grissom blasted. "Sara's record is spotless. That night she was exhausted from busting her ass for the County. She barely blew over the new legal limit. She deserved the break. I'm her supervisor so I was the one they had to call and that's why I was the one to escort her out of the station and drive her home. Afterwards, the issue was discussed and the appropriate action advised…there wasn't a problem…there isn't a problem. Her work is outstanding..."
"Except when she loses a vial of GHB!" Ecklie steamed. "Let's cut to the chase. You both had your hands on the evidence so it could have been either of you who lost it. I can't suspend both of you because you're so backlogged already it would just make matters worse." Turning to Sara he coldly said, "Ms. Sidle, since you are worth less around here you'll be the one suspended….six days, unpaid, starting now."
Closing her eyes she focused on his words…worth less…and couldn't help but run them together.
"No!" Grissom jumped from his chair. "I'm not going to let your power trip back up things here. Everyone is already pulling doubles; do you really think cutting our resources is going to help our accuracy! She's needed here!"
"And you need to remember your place on the food chain!" Ecklie seethed. "Quit while you're ahead or I'll keep probing and if I do, I'm sure I'll find something to bring you both down…permanently."
"Give me a break," Catherine huffed, "You don't really think people would care what Ecklie has to say after he was busted with a hooker in a no-tell motel." When she saw Carrie's eyes bulge wide, she knew she blew it.
"Excellent point, Ms. Willows." Don nodded enthusiastically. "Makes me wonder why a jury believed Nick when he testified against my client. Then again, Mike's first attorney failed to point out all of Nick's credibility issues, like being caught with a hooker. Look at your reaction regarding Ecklie, and at least the hooker he banged that night didn't die. Mr. Stokes can't say the same."
Catherine understood Carrie's look of horror much better now and promptly shut up. Dammit!
"Let's talk about the GHB, Dr. Grissom." Don relaxed in his chair. "A vial of GHB found at the Brianna Ellers crime scene was taken into evidence. Ms. Sidle was handling that evidence in one of the processing rooms when my client showed up. Why don't you tell us exactly what happened, Ms. Sidle."
"Sara…aren't you supposed to be somewhere else?" Mike sweetly asked from his position in the doorway.
When Sara heard her date's voice she jumped off her stool. "I am so sorry!" Checking the clock she realized she was supposed to meet him downstairs. There he was, nicely outfitted in stylish dress clothes with a black leather jacket draped over his arm, while she wore a grungy lab coat over the rank outfit she had been wearing for almost a day. "I'm not even dressed yet and I have to get this report in!" Tearing off her lab coat she grabbed the Brianna Ellers report. "Can you wait here while I run this over to Grissom?"
"Sure." When she walked through the door he winked. "By the way, you look real cute in a lab coat."
Uncomfortable with the flirtatious comment she shyly averted her eyes. "Why don't you take a seat and I'll be right back."
Sara finished by saying, "When I was in Gil's office, your client pocketed the GHB."
"That's your theory, mine is that you pocketed it to take to Tahoe to pull your 'attention getting maneuver'. You had both opportunity and motive."
"So did your client," Carrie reminded the lawyer. "Sara didn't want to sleep with Mike, so he drugged her."
"According to him, the date was going great and he was in no rush to sleep with her, because they had just met. But let's call that a draw, Ms. Blake. What I care about is what happened after the GHB incident, specifically about Mr. Brass throwing his weight around in Tahoe and getting the cops to look the other way about Sara's GHB drugging."
In silence, Jim and Gil recalled how they decided to spare Sara's career.
Furious, Grissom gripped the edge of the table. "We have to drop the drug charges."
"That bad huh?" From the request and the look on Grissom's face, Jim knew Mike had found a way to screw Sara after all.
Falling into a chair, Grissom reluctantly explained, "Sara left the vial unattended, we can't deny that. If we checked, we'd find Sara's prints on the jacket because Mike left his leather jacket at the lab and I had Catherine take it and put it in Sara's locker. Obviously, Sara returned the jacket to him and she would have touched it in the process." Exasperated, Grissom lowered his gaze to the floor. "Not that it matters. He has a story and no matter how erroneous it is, if he tells it he'll ruin Sara. She'd be thrown out of the lab. We have no choice; we have to drop the charges. That son of a bitch is going to get away with it." At the mercy of his friend, Grissom asked, "Can you make it happen?"
"I'll talk to Bryant." Brass took a seat at the table. "Although the GHB was found in Tahoe it was stolen in Vegas, so jurisdiction shouldn't be a problem. Actually, I'm sure they'll be happy to send us on our merry way and restore the peace and tranquility of this lovely mountain community."
"Will word get back to Ecklie?"
Brass confidently replied, "No. Trust me. I'll handle it with Bryant…cop to cop. So, don't worry. Besides, haven't you heard the new promo for Tahoe?" Playing on the current Vegas motto, he said, "What happens in Tahoe stays in Tahoe."
"I spoke with Detective Bryant," Don anxiously informed the group. "Since he's running for Sheriff now, the last thing he wanted was a scandal, so he was quite open with me in exchange for my discretion." Locking eyes with Brass, he asked, "Do you want to tell them what you told him, or should I?"
While he sincerely hoped Bryant hadn't told the truth, in his gut Jim knew it was wishful thinking because he figured Schultz had presented a 'compelling reason' for the Tahoe cop to cooperate. "Go ahead," he replied, in the tone of a dare.
"I should warn everyone…what Jim said was shocking, because he decided to tell the truth." Walking over to Sara, Don said, "Your buddy Jim told Bryant, and I quote, 'Sidle is a basket case. She's already seeing a PEAP Counselor. There's a good chance she gave herself the GHB as a cry for help, so I think it best we don't make a big deal out of this, don't you? I'm hoping you'll agree that sweeping this under the rug is the best thing for all parties in involved.'"
Jim averted his eyes. It was true. It had been the easiest and most effective way to get the job done, and since it had been a private arrangement, he never thought Sara would find out.
"Were you lying, Mr. Brass?" Don prodded, "Or were you telling the truth? One answer makes you look bad and proves just what I've been saying about you…you manipulate evidence and participate in conspiracies. The other answer makes Ms. Sidle look bad and proves what I've been saying about her…she's mentally unstable and pulls 'attention getting maneuvers when she's desperate'. Which one is it?" Now that he was done giving choices he hummed the Final Jeopardy theme music.
"Hmm…I don't recall having a conversation about GHB with Bryant," Jim responded, knowing the answer would suffice for the moment.
"Nice." Don clapped. "I'm sure your answer would change if Bryant was in the room though, because cops don't betray one another…oh wait…actually you did rat out brethren cops in New Jersey. I stand corrected."
"Dirty cops, not cops," Jim clarified, "there's a big difference." Finally making eye contact with Sara, he saw her eating M&Ms and trying not to well up. Later he'd clear things up. He'd tell her that it was something he said to save her ass, not because he believed it…or at least not all of it. After all, how could she deny having mental issues when she had a nervous breakdown at a crime scene a month after he spoke to Bryant? Plus, she had been under a Psychiatrist's care ever since. So, he believed she couldn't be upset with him…hoped, would be more accurate.
"I can tell by the look on Ms. Sidle's face that she didn't know about that part." In a sympathetic voice Don said, "I imagine it's difficult finding out that your friends think you're a nutjob, huh? Think how this story would sound to a jury? They'd think you're nuts. If you don't believe me, look over at Carrie, even she looks like she's wondering if it's all true."
Sara continued to pop M&Ms in her mouth and ignore the scum.
"Wrong." Carrie chuckled, "I was wondering how long you were going to drone on because I have a puppy at home and she really needs dinner and a walk."
"How about it, Mrs. Grissom?" Don smiled at the emotionally fragile pregnant woman. "Ready to concede you framed my client and had your man Gil send him up the river? Because I'm sure that sweet Basset Hound you have needs dinner too?"
Sara calmly responded, "Flash has water, biscuits and a doggie door, he can wait."
Don shrugged in Carrie's direction. "Poor Binda will have to wait too then. Hey…is Binda a combination of your old poodle's name 'Glinda' and the old Stokes family retriever, 'Buck'?" When he saw her surprise Don laughed, "We got your dog's name from the librarian in your childhood hometown. Mrs. Landon, very sweet lady. We said we were featuring you in a book about sexually abused children who had gone on to become very successful prosecutors of sex crimes. I've left no stone unturned and if I go public, every piece of dirt I found under those stones goes with me."
Jim overdramatically shivered. "Oooh, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm scared." They didn't laugh as he had hoped.
"Aww, look at the tension I've caused in the room." Don hurried to the whiteboard. "Let's relieve some anxiety with a fun little game."
"What are we gonna play, Don?" Nick feigned excitement.
"Hangman."
Nick laughed, "Are you the one in the noose? 'Cause then I really would be excited."
The Royale
6:15 p.m.
"He's a rookie with a big mouth who got a little too excited," Officer Patterson informed detectives Vartann and Vega. "You know how this works…the cops assigned to babysit low-risk crime scenes are wet behind the ears. He was stationed here to sit in a chair outside a taped door and say 'you can't go in', unfortunately he said a little more than that."
"Are you kidding me?" Losing his patience, Vartann snapped, "The idiot told the father of the victim that Bruce Campbell ordered the kid to be whacked, when he had nothing to substantiate the statement and shouldn't have been flapping his gums to a civilian in the first place! That's pretty god damn serious in my opinion."
"Mine too," Vega concurred while eyeing the rookie pacing the hall just out of earshot. "His ass needs to be chewed to a pulp. Get a replacement out here and bring him back to the station for a little quality time in the interrogation room." Walking away with Vartann at his side, he grumbled, "Are you planning on shadowing me all day?"
"I wanted answers before I went home, but then even more shit happened, so I'm still here. This case went from messy to FUBAR in less than a day." Pressing the VIP elevator button, Vartann said, "Tell me if I've got this straight…Campbell's daughter bumps into Charlie here at The Royale and throws a big house party to show him off to her friends. At the party, while Charlie is out cold in the bathroom, she gets iced by her dealer. Bruce Campbell thinks Charlie killed Nina because his surviving daughter told him so, and suddenly Charlie is dead in Campbell's hotel with all the signs pointing to a professional hit. Then, Charlie's father shows up and kills Campbell for killing his son, who was killed because Campbell thought he killed his daughter."
"Yep, it reminds me of dominos."
"That's so screwed up."
Vega grabbed a fresh piece of sugar-free gum. "Hey, maybe Campbell's wife will shoot Dwyer's wife to avenge her husband's death. She'll have the opportunity, Mrs. Dwyer has been notified of her husband's demise and is flying into town as we speak."
"Don't even joke about that." Walking off the elevator, Vartann grabbed his ringing cell phone. "Just to be safe though, let's have someone meet Mrs. Dwyer at the airport and order protection for her while she's in town, because..."
Vega seized the opportunity to get back at his co-worker, "Don't tell me how to do my job, asshole."
"I deserved that," Vartann laughed before answering the phone. "Hey, Honey. How are you doing? Oh, hi, Mr. Sanders. Is Becca okay?"
"She's sound asleep on the couch, but I'm losing it. I just got a call from Katie Dwyer, she said an officer just called to report her husband shot a man and then turned the gun on himself. She's on her way out here. Michael Dwyer was one of my golf buddies; please tell me that it's a case of mistaken identity."
"I could, but I'd be lying. Sorry about your buddy," Vartann sighed into the phone. "For some unknown reason, Dr. Dwyer believed that Bruce Campbell killed Charlie or had him killed and he confronted and shot the guy." When he saw Vega mouthing 'Talking to a civilian' he gave him the finger. "I'm sorry, but beyond that, I can't go into the specifics of a pending investigation."
Sheriff Burdick's Office
6:40 p.m.
"The answer is Evidence Tampering!" Jim shouted out like an excited schoolboy while raising his hand. "I wonder where you're going with something so vague?"
"I bet Nick is clueless too since we've established he was Special Ed." Don left the game of Hangman on the whiteboard and returned to the center of the room. "Dr. Grissom why did you end up at Wendy Blake's residence? I can't quite visualize it. You're sitting in your office and then what? You suddenly think, 'Hey! I think I'll open the Samantha Hatcher case from twenty years ago? Why?"
"I had a hunch your client was a liar and decided to check him out."
"I think it was because he was dating Sara and you were jealous as hell."
"No, it was because I saw him eating a hot dog after he told Sara he was a vegetarian. When I realized he had lied to her, I did a little checking into his background. I saw that he went to UNLV. I found an article about Samantha's death and I called Wendy Blake, the remaining survivor of the Hatcher family, to ask her a few questions."
"So, you called Wendy, but then you ended up going to her home and finding Samantha's old bloody jacket that was in a box of items returned to her mother because the case was immediately ruled accidental and therefore the jacket wasn't needed as evidence."
"That's correct."
"How long from the phone call until you arrived at Wendy's home?"
Gil shrugged. "About thirty minutes."
"I want to speak with Ms. Blake alone."
The request left everyone stunned.
"Why?" Nick asked, not wanting his fiancée alone with the pig for even a second.
"I'll be fine," Carrie assured while holding up a Cheeto and smiling.
"I'm not going to touch her, don't worry." Don laughed, "I know she enjoys kickboxing and could kick my ass."
"Damn straight," Carrie sat a little taller in her chair. "Seriously, Nicky, I'm fine."
"We need to have a little lawyer to lawyer conversation to expedite matters that's all. Take your belongings, because you may not be returning."
Catherine grabbed her purse muttering, "This feels just like the boardroom scene in The Apprentice."
"I was thinking Survivor Tribal Council," Jim countered. "I think the rest of us blew the Immunity Challenge."
Reluctantly, everyone filed out of the room with Nick going last and staring down Schultz. "I'll be right outside this door, Carr."
"I can see why you adore him, Ms. Blake. He's very protective, which has to be a nice feeling for a girl who was hurt so badly."
Ignoring the statement, Carrie stuck to business, "You have at least four different ways to get your client exonerated already, so why are you even holding this meeting?"
"Because Mike wanted me to and he's paying me a fortune, therefore I do what he wants me to do." Don opened the can of Pepsi he had purchased earlier. "Plus it's a nice warm up for me before going to the judge…or the cameras if necessary. Lastly, I needed the Sheriff to see how truly bad his situation is."
"Mike is paying you with the money he received from the insurance company after he killed his wife and got away with it." Staring down the man, she sighed, "How do you sleep at night?"
"Very well, thank you. Okay, poor Binda's starving, so let's cut to the chase, Ms. Blake. There's one way to get the exoneration without bringing down anyone attending the meeting today and preserving the lab's integrity. The last thing my client wants is to bring down good lawmen and women, because he's dedicated his life to crime fighting. He'd prefer everyone to keep their jobs and not see vicious criminals returned to the streets where he'll only have to work to incarcerate them again. Have you thought of the way yet?"
"Yes," Carrie replied, grateful it existed, but saddened to know how hard it would be…not that the idea of Mike being a free man could ever be easy on the mind or heart. She also couldn't imagine telling her sister-in-law that her rapist would be walking the streets in the near future.
After a sip of soda, Schultz said, "Yes, since she started the mess, I think it's only fitting that Mike's life is restored by the original liar herself…Wendy Blake."
The Blakes
6:45 p.m.
"Dinner!" Wendy called from the kitchen, feeling badly that it was forty-five minutes later than usual. The news of Celine's sister's death had spurred her to a baking a frenzy and it had taken an hour to dig herself out of the mess.
"Meat!" Ryan exclaimed as he flew into the kitchen and spied burgers on buns.
"They're black bean burgers, Sweetie." Wendy flitted around the kitchen grabbing condiments and serving spoons like a Stepford Wife.
"I knew it was too good to be true," the jock grumbled as he took his usual seat at the table. "Where's Dad?"
"He'll be here any minute. He was tied up in a meeting all day." She hadn't had a chance to speak with him because the only time he had been free was in the car and she didn't like him to talk on his cell while driving.
"Are you okay, Mom?" Sean asked when he saw her place Organic Sugar-Free Maple Syrup on the table when they were having burgers, sweet potato 'steak fries' and salad.
"Where's your sister?"
"Washing her hands."
"I'm home!" Paul cheerily announced as he burst through the kitchen door. "Hey, Wen…did you hear Celine's sister was murdered in her home and now some nutjob apparently just shot her father as he was coming out of the mortuary from planning her funeral! Just took him out right on the sidewalk Sopranos style and then blew his brains out like he was a Kamikaze or…"
Wendy shot her husband a death stare and pointed to the kitchen table.
"Huh?" Doh! Shoulda made sure the kids weren't here first! When Paul saw his sons' shocked expressions he felt horrible. "Uh…" And tongue-tied.
"What about Celine?" Ryan asked in a jittery voice. "Is she okay?"
"Uh…they didn't say anything about her, but…"
"She's in protective custody," Wendy clarified. "I was planning on telling you both after dinner in a much nicer way."
"Sorry, Wen." Paul hugged her tight. The smell of an assortment of fresh baked goods should have clued him in that she was stressed, but he had become complacent since the Rodgers trial concluded, ending her tension-filled days.
"Can we talk to Celine?" Ryan asked in a voice much weaker than usual. "I mean…'cause she has to be freaked."
"Because," Sean corrected out of habit in a nervous reaction.
"Shut up!" Ryan threw a burger directly at his brother's face and jumped up from the table. "I'm sitting here worried about a girl whose whole family was killed and the only thing you can do is correct my grammar! How would you feel if Lindsay was worried about her friend's grammar on the day someone killed mom and dad, huh!"
"Sorry," Sean managed to squeak.
"May I be excused!" Ryan asked his father. "I need a walk."
"Sure, Son, just be back before dark or if it starts raining again."
Sheriff Burdick's Office
7:28 p.m.
As the rain outside grew heavier, Nick checked his watch. "I'm givin' it 'til seven-thirty then I'm checkin' on her," he told the group sitting in the Sheriff's private office with him. This waiting is…" The sound of the conference room door opening brought him to his feet and when he saw Carrie walking out unharmed he breathed deep for the first time since the exile. "You okay?"
Carrie nodded and stepped into his open arms. "It's over."
"Good."
"Not really," she exhaled into his chest. Then, she removed herself from the embrace, stood tall and broke the devastating news, "He has more than enough to get Mike Rodgers out of prison. We can choose the hard way or the easy way, but if we choose the hard way, every one of you will go down and lose your jobs…taking the lab's reputation with you. Like I said before the meeting, when the cops and criminalists are implicated, every case they've worked on can come under scrutiny. You heard what he has, and that was just the tip of the iceberg. You have a choice to make…you either go down fighting, or let it happen quietly and keep your jobs, the lab's reputation and the criminals behind bars."
Grissom was the only one coherent enough to speak, "What's to prevent him from sharing all this and bringing us down after Rodgers gets out?"
A nervous smile twittered across Carrie's face. "I was told that Mike doesn't want to bring you down, because after working hard as a cop catching bad guys all these years, he doesn't want them to have an excuse to get out of jail free. The sarcasm in her voice strengthened, "All Saint Mike wants is to be a productive member of society, a loving husband to his new wife, and a caring stepfather to Tawny. The last thing he wants is for all of you to lose your jobs."
"Why?" Sara asked in disbelief.
Looking her friend in the eyes, Carrie sadly replied, "Because he can't wait to be a cop again…and work with all of you."
Author's Notes:
Thanks for reading!
Chapter 9 is up...
Maggs