Laws of Motion – Book 3
Written by: Ms. Maggs/Edited by: KJT
Chapter 9
Monday, September 26, 2005
Sheriff Burdick's Office
7:35 p.m.
Finally able to stop gaping at his fiancée, Nick parroted, "Rodgers wants to be a cop again and work with all of us."
"He can't be a cop again, because he had charges pressed against him and stood trial," Catherine stated, certain she was correct. "Right?"
Sara tightly clung to the hope-filled statement.
"I'm sorry." While she agreed it absurd, Carrie had to burst their bubble. "If he's exonerated and his record expunged, that means he's back to where he was prior to being charged. Also, since it would be up to the Sheriff to decide whether or not he could be reinstated, my guess is Mike will be wearing a badge shortly after he gets out."
As he had many times before, Grissom took the lead, "Then we have from now until he's released to find a way to bring Rodgers down for good…regardless if it saves our asses or not, at least we'll know we kept a murderer behind bars."
LVPD – Interrogation Room A
7:42 p.m.
Standing behind the glass with Warrick and Vartann, Vega said, "His name is Ivan Radko. He's Bruce Campbell's bodyguard."
"He's a pretty crappy bodyguard if you ask me," Warrick grumbled as he sized up the burly man. "The guy he was guarding is dead."
"What'd you haul him in for?" Vartann queried. He was halfway home when Vega called him to return.
"Nothin'." Sam started for the door. "He asked to talk to the people in charge of the investigation. That's me and Brown, but I thought you'd want to listen in for kicks."
"Thanks." Vartann leaned against the glass and checked his watch, anxious to get home and check on his wife.
When Vega walked into the room, he greeted the agitated man, "Mr. Radko…what brings you by the station today?"
"Who are you guys?" The thirty-eight year old bodyguard queried, wanting to make sure the right people were in the room.
"I'm Detective Vega, and this is CSI Brown, we're the investigative leads assigned to the Bruce Campbell murder."
"What the hell is there to investigate?" Always one to talk with his hands, Ivan tossed them in the air. "He was shot to death in broad daylight and the killer did you the favor of blowing his brains out right next to the guy he off'd. I only have a GED, but I figured out whodunit in two seconds."
Warrick nodded, "Yeah, if every killer did us the favor of staying at the scene of the crime…dead or alive, I'd never have to clock overtime. Tell me, Mr. Radko, where were you when the guy you were hired to guard took four bullets? Because rumor has it, you always had Bruce's back and changes in routine leave me curious."
"What? You think I made myself scarce on purpose? You think maybe I took a payoff, so this Dwyer guy could pop Bruce?"
"Stranger things have happened."
Ivan chuckled at the idea. "I owe Bruce Campbell my life, literally. I ran into some trouble back in Jersey and he bailed out my ass and brought me to Vegas around the time he bought The Royale. I've been with him ever since. I woulda been with him this afternoon if he hadn't asked me to check on Celine. The poor man was worried sick about her ever since you assholes took her away. I called for backup, but the idiot got into an accident on his way to the mortuary and never showed."
Warrick and Vega exchanged glances and shrugs, and then Vega informed the guest, "Look, if you're here to bitch about Social Services putting a thirteen year old into protective custody when she was found unsupervised in a house full of older guys, booze, drugs and violence…you've got the wrong guys."
"That's not why I'm here."
"Then humor us and tell us why you are here," Warrick huffed, anxious to get back to his office and check in with his wife.
"You guys think Bruce had the Dwyer kid iced."
"He was a person of interest in the investigation," Vega officially replied.
"I came here to tell you he didn't do it."
"And you know this how?" Warrick quizzed, hoping the guy had proof, but knowing it was a long shot.
After a hefty breath in and out, Ivan did what he had come to do…confess. "I know, because I shot the kid, and before you ask, it wasn't an order from Bruce, it was all my idea. I only told him when we were on the way to the mortuary today."
Stunned by the declaration, Vega confirmed, "Mr. Radko, are you confessing to the murder of Charles Dwyer?"
"Yes." The guilt off his shoulders, Ivan relaxed in his chair. "Bruce was outraged over Nina's death and then losing Celine. He felt like a wimp. I mean…how the hell can a guy look tough when he can't even protect his little girls, right? Then, the damn news stations showed shots of him crying. Guys like Braun eat that shit up."
Sam Braun's Estate
7:51 p.m.
"Dom Perignon for two, Mr. Braun." Virgil, the butler, presented the bottle to his long-time employer who was poised in front of the plasma TV grinning like an excited little boy. Ever since the news of Bruce Campbell's death hit the airwaves the casino tycoon had been plotting to buy the dead man's properties. "Where would you and your lady like to enjoy it?"
"Right here, Virg!" Grabbing the flutes, Sam lowered one and cheered, "Say hi to the devil for me, you son of a bitch!"
"Go, Sammy!" Monica tapped her glass of bubbly against her Sugar Daddy's. "You're da bomb!"
"That's groovy to you and me, Virgil." Sixty-nine year old Sam slapped his playgirl on the ass. "How about you and me get hitched, tonight, Sweetheart! Provided you sign the pre-nup of course."
"Really!" The twenty-one year old shrilled in anticipation of an enormous diamond and new car, just like Sam's fourth wife had received. "Sure, I'll sign anything you put in front of me, Sammy!"
Sammy? Ugh. Walking out of the study, Virgil shielded his ears from the bimbo's shrieks of glee. "Why did he have to go and do that?"
LVPD – Interrogation Room A
7:54 p.m
"I thought poppin' the kid would help Bruce's image." Wishing he had a cigarette, Ivan tapped his fingers on the table. "The idiot was stupid enough to stay the night in the hotel owned by the father of the girl he screwed and didn't protect. Hello!" Ivan broke into a maniacal laugh. "Easiest job I ever did! I slipped into his room with my security pass and took him out in his sleep." He casually added, "There was a bottle of Valium on the bathroom counter, which I figured he probably used to knock himself out for the night. That made it pleasant for him too. The kid went from La-La Land to the great beyond without ever opening his eyes. There are a lot worse ways to go, trust me. Back in Jersey, I watched a wide-awake guy get stuffed feet first in a wood chipper, now that's nasty."
Outraged by the flippant attitude, Warrick blasted, "Charlie didn't kill Nina. We have her killer behind bars. You took out the wrong guy."
"That don't matter," Ivan proudly replied, "the message I sent, worked. The right people knew the score."
"What message?" Vega prodded.
"You screw with Bruce Campbell's family, you wind up dead." At peace with his decision, Ivan breathed easy, "I confessed because I was worried it would tie up the execution of the will if you guys thought Bruce pulled the trigger. I want Celine to be taken care of for the rest of her life."
Warrick snarled his reply, "Yeah, you're a real thoughtful guy."
"I took an oath to give my life for Bruce." Ivan placed his palm on his chest. "I preserved his reputation and I'm making sure his daughter doesn't suffer now that he's gone. Don't you see? I kept my promise."
"Way to go!" Vega applauded the effort. "Yeah, I'm sure when you croak, Saint Peter will be rolling out the red carpet for ya, pal, but until then, prison will have to do." He motioned for the cop. "Please escort Mr. Radko to booking."
Warrick tossed his head back and massaged his temples. "I need a vacation from stupid people with guns."
"I hope you have a passport," Vega quipped as Vartann hustled into the room. "Enjoy the show?"
"So, Ivan pops Charlie because he thinks he killed Nina. Then, Charlie's dad pops Bruce Campbell because he thinks Bruce killed Charlie, but none of them were right. Jesus Christ…that's messed up even for this town." Checking his watch, Vartann sighed, "My wife said she doesn't want kids because the world is too screwed up, I think I agree with her. I couldn't sleep at night worrying about my kid dealing with this kind of shit. I'm outta here, gentlemen."
"Yeah, me too. See ya, Vega." Warrick walked out with his buddy. "You better keep that anti-kid stuff to yourself at work, man. Guys are getting women pregnant left and right around here."
"Are you and Catherine…"
"Noooo." Warrick shuddered at the thought. "Cath decided one was enough years ago and went to the doctor to make sure she couldn't have more. A baby was never something I wanted…not that I don't enjoying being a stepdad, that's cool. As hard as teenagers are, they're a world away from a baby needing you for everything twenty-four seven." Warrick adamantly shook his head. "No way, that's not for me. Linds and I can play ball, X-box, catch a flick…that's doable. Changing diapers and feeding a screaming kid mushed peas…not in a million years." Laughing he added, "But I plan to have a lot of fun watching Greg manage that with two of 'em simultaneously."
"I can't imagine how he'll handle it, because Sanders just learned to wipe his own ass last week."
The Four Seasons Maui
5:39 p.m. HST
"I used the potty all by myself!" Greg announced to his fretting wife who had been certain he'd pass out and crack his skull. "It was a nice healthy one too. So, I'll be able to go on the pineapple tour with you tomorrow after all."
"Awesome!" Now that he wouldn't be missing out on the remainder of the honeymoon, Tawny decided she could ease up on beating herself up about the accident. "Are you up for a walk on the beach?"
"Totally. I want to try Nick again first. I want to know how things went with the Sheriff, but he's not returning my calls." He grabbed his cell phone. "Actually, I'll call him as we're walking there and be done by the time our feet hit the sand."
Nick and Carrie's
9:01 p.m.
His soles still burning from being put to the coals by Schultz, Nick plopped on the couch and dropped his socked feet on the coffee table. "Hey, Binda." The pup came charging and jumped on his lap licking his face and wagging her tail like a windshield wiper set at warp speed. "I love dogs," he sighed heavily. "Look at you, you have no idea I'm an idiot."
After paying Catherine, Sara and Gil forty bucks each, Nick had trudged down the courthouse steps feeling like the three-time loser he was for betting them he'd be leaving with an award instead of a chewed ass. "Daddy's not a liar or a murderer," Nick informed the panting pup.
"I know that," Carrie stated in what she imagined Binda's voice would sound like. "Here you go." She handed over a Fat Tire beer and sat on his lap.
"Thanks, Darlin', for the beer and for not packin' your stuff and running."
"Fat chance." After pecking his lips she said, "I'm going to be in my office going over my files from the Rodgers trial to decide on an approach. You just stay here with Binda and chill out, okay?"
Not ready to let her go, he took her hand and quietly asked, "Do you think the DA would really go after me if Schultz gets Jack Willman's verdict overturned?"
"Nicky, let's not…"
"Seriously, I want an answer."
"Fine. If Schultz exerted enough pressure and threatened him with prejudicial treatment, I suppose he could agree to, but the case wouldn't hold water and a good defense attorney would have it dismissed."
"But I'd lose my job if it got that far." When she nodded he dropped his head against the couch. "If I'm screwed anyway, then I should volunteer to take the hit and be the reason Mike walks out of Ely an exonerated man. I mean, why let…"
"Because it would hurt the lab and the cases, remember?"
"Right." Raising the beer to his lips he groaned, "I really am slow on the uptake, just like that bastard said."
"No, you're not thinking clearly because you're shocked and stressed." After kissing the back of his hand, she released it. "Wendy's the logical choice."
"Carr…if she says she lied on the stand, she'll get nailed with perjury."
"She won't have to say she lied." Sliding off his lap, she confidently stated, "I can think of two ways to go without her perjuring herself, but I need to review the…"
"Go." Forcing a smile he said, "You need to work and I have Binda here if I feel an urge to whine again." Nick grabbed the remote and sunk deeper into the couch. "See…I'm relaxin', don't worry about me, Sweetheart."
Dr. Michael Dwyer, consumed by grief over his twenty-six year old son's murder at The Royale Hotel and Casino last night, gunned down Bruce Campbell, The Royale's owner, in retaliation. According to witnesses, Campbell was confronted by the outraged father, a highly regarded plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills, as he emerged from Perry and Sons Mortuary. Campbell had been at the Mortuary planning his sixteen year old daughter's funeral.
"On second thought." Nick clicked off the TV. "I think I'll read."
Before Carrie could hand him the new copy of Sports Illustrated he had received in the mail earlier, Nick's cell phone rang.
"Or not." He pulled the phone from his clip. "Stokes."
"It's Vega…we got a kid at the station claiming to be your nephew. He says his name is Ryan Blake. He was caught snooping around the Campbell home. He gave us a phone number for his parents, but they're not answering."
Someone pounding on the front door caught their ears.
"Thanks, Vega." Nick jumped up from the couch and followed Carrie, who was rushing to see who was banging. "He's my fiancée's nephew and I'll be right there."
"Is Ryan here!" Wendy frantically asked. "I've been calling and…"
"Ryan's okay," Nick informed the frantic mother. "They just called me from the station sayin' he's there."
"What!" Carrie and Wendy both yelled. "Why!"
"He was snoopin' around the Campbell house." He grabbed his jacket from the hook in the foyer. "Did you tell him about Celine? Maybe he was worried about her."
"Sorry, we didn't answer." Carrie hugged her water logged sister-in-law, who she figured had been running around in the rain looking for Ryan. "We just got back from an endless meeting in the Sheriff's office and I was just about to check messages."
"I need to get to the station…I need to call Paul…and your father is home with…"
"Calm down, he's okay." Nick snatched his keys from the entry table. "Come in and make your calls, and have Paul meet me at the station, because they won't be able to release Ryan to me."
Catching her breath, Wendy stepped inside. "I've been a wreck since hearing about that poor girl. It reminds me of Samantha and that bastard. I can't believe Sean and Ryan were both at that house. Can you believe I let my kids go where there are wild parties and drug dealers kill young girls!" Hugging Carrie tightly, she sighed, "My boys could have been killed. Why are there so many evil people in this world?" Closing her eyes she took a jagged breath. "Thank God Nick and Gil were able to find enough evidence to keep Mike locked away for good. At least I don't have to worry about that monster stalking my children…or worse."
With Wendy in her arms, Carrie stared at Nick.
"Uh…I better get going," Nick announced, knowing Wendy would see the truth on his face if he stayed any longer. "I'll call you when I'm on my way back, Darlin'. Hang in there, Wendy." Because the worst is yet to come. "Don't be too hard on Ryan, he was just being a nice guy, worryin' about a damsel in distress."
The Vartanns
9:17 p.m.
"Did Becca have a drink by any chance?" Tony asked Scott upon returning to the kitchen. Asleep on the couch, she hadn't moved since he arrived.
"A little wine, why?" Scott stopped stirring the spaghetti sauce on the stove. "This is fantastic by the way."
"Thanks, it's the family recipe." His mother had given him several containers in a cooler to take home from San Diego, along with a dish of lasagna. "Becca's on some medication, and she's not supposed to drink." Grabbing a beer from the fridge he breathed a sigh of relief, "But at least that explains why she's sleeping like a rock."
"Sorry." Scott returned to his stool at the counter. "I should have realized she was on something, because she wasn't jumping off the walls like normal. That's why I was opposed to her friendship with Greg when they were kids. They're too alike and they enabled each other. Of course, now my perspective is completely screwed up because I know my wife was driving them both insane. Before Becca dozed, we had a nice talk…put a lot of water under the bridge. Learning one of my golf buddies lost a son, killed a man and then shot himself definitely left me in a reconciliatory mood…except in regards to my wife. I'm more pissed at her than ever."
"I know the feeling, believe me." Tony opened the oven and checked on the lasagna. "I'm talking about my Ex, not Becca. I can't believe I ever cared about her. I get physically ill looking at her. I actually wanted to bring a child into this world with that bitch. Thank Christ we were never successful. How screwed up is it to hate a woman that much after being married to her for years?"
"I know the feeling, believe me." Scott raised his beer bottle and clanked it against his host's. "Greg called me earlier and said his mother showed up in Maui. She told him she was checking into an outrageously lavish treatment center there. Like there weren't a dozen of those to choose from in Malibu alone. Noooooo, she had to go all the way to Maui during his honeymoon. For about fifteen minutes I seriously considered flying there to personally strangle her, so Greg won't have to worry about her popping up in the delivery room. Oh…just kiddingDetective."
"Not to worry, I'm off the clock and I personally wanted to strangle the Ex as recently as Saturday when she surprised me in the station parking lot, asking to reconcile." Pulling the lasagna out, Tony grinned, "As if I wou…"
"You didn't tell me your Ex showed up saying she wants you back!" Becca yelled as loud as her groggy voice would allow. "Why are you keeping secrets from me!"
Scott sat quietly sipping his beer.
"I wasn't. I put her out of my head the second I pulled out of the lot and started driving home to you, Honey." Taking off his oven mitts, Tony walked over to give his panicked wife a reassuring hug. "Trust me, if she thought there was a chance, and I have no idea why she thought there could be one, she gets the picture loud and clear now. On top of telling her to go to hell in very descriptive language, I went on and on about how I needed to get home to my loving wife. I didn't tell you, because once I was home, the last thing I wanted to do was waste time talking about that selfish bitch. Life's too short, remember?" When she didn't answer, he prompted, "Becks, come on, you can't seriously think I even want to breathe air in the same room with the skank, no less take her back?"
"Rebecca..." Scott chided the girl in his most paternal tone. "Don't play the jealousy card, because you should know by now that gets you nowhere but the curb." He had personally witnessed her driving boyfriends insane at the club by accusing them of watching other girls in bikinis. "While you were sleeping, your husband called twice, and since he's been home he's checked on youthree times. While cooking you dinner, he and I had a nice chat about how much we loathe our old wives. If Greg really were gay, I'd want Tony to be my son-in-law. He's a great guy who actually knows how to operate an oven. Most importantly, he's telling the truth, Sweetheart, so take a breath and let it go…permanently."
"Sorry for yelling," Becca stated after the ordered breath. "I believe you, Tony, and thanks, Mr. S, you always did know when I needed a kick in the ass."
"Speaking of kicks in the ass." Tony shook his head. "You're not supposed to be drinking, remember?"
The Grissoms
9:35 p.m.
Standing in the doorway of the library watching her husband pour two fingers of Scotch, Sara coughed, "If I can't have a drink after that meeting, I don't think you should either."
After downing the whisky Gil turned around and said, "Honey…I didn't know you were there. Did you say something?"
"Don't play the deaf card with me," she snipped while cinching her favorite pink cashmere robe tighter.
Blowing out a breath of tension, Gil groveled, "Sorry, I thought I'd be more use to you if I was calmer. You said you were taking a bath, so I…"
"If we're this tense when Mike's still in Ely, what's it gonna be like when he's across the street?" She gulped. "Watching our every move."
"We can't run from this, Sara."
"Who said anything about running?" After walking over, she placed her hands on her husband's face and surprised him with a lusty kiss. The taste of him and the Scotch soothing her, she felt the tension in her body begin to dissipate.
"Sara, I…"
"No talking." Desperate to forget everything and lose herself in the moment, she kissed him harder still. "Skip working, come to bed."
"Why go to bed when there's a perfectly comfortable chair right here?" With her hand in his, he sat, and tugged her onto his lap. "I love you, Sara."
"I'm sorry I've been such a bitch lately." She worked quickly to open the buttons of his shirt. "Today…when you were there for me…everything I've been pissed about seemed ridiculous."
Suddenly he was desperate to forget everything and lose himself in the moment. "No talking, remember?" Every kiss of her lips and caress of her flesh carried him further away from the drama of the day.
"Are other forms of noise allowed?"
The answer came as a groan.
Their moves, like their thoughts, were frenzied and by the time they were done, neither could believe that their most passionate love making occurred on a day riddled with angst and disappointment.
"I can't believe…" Sara panted as she fell backwards against her husband's sweaty chest.
"Experts say that the best bonding occurs when teammates have a difficult challenge to overcome." Kissing her damp shoulder, Gil remarked, "I feel closer, how about you?"
"Hell, yes."
LVPD – Crime Lab
10:05 p.m.
"Hell, no," Catherine grumbled when her husband suggested she call it a night. "Not until I make sure every 'I' is dotted and 'T' crossed on this Kristy Hopkins case file."
Feeling conflicted about being left out of the stressful meeting, Warrick asked, "You don't really think the DA would go after Nick just because some asshole attorney puts the screws to him, do you?"
"If you had spent four quality hours with Schultz you'd be worried too."
"I wish I could have been there, but I wasn't allowed, remember?" Shrugging he sighed, "The DA has a reputation as a saint, he's heavy into the Special Olympics and adopted crippled kids, so at least this jerk won't be able to blackmail him."
"I wouldn't count on that." Catherine glanced up from the DNA report. "Dear old Don probably has dirt on Mother Teresa."
"What did he have on Carrie?"
"Nothing." Grinning, Catherine returned to scouring the report. "How sad is that! Can you imagine going through your whole life without doing one scandalous thing? Hell, I did my first at thirteen."
LVPD – Vega's Desk
10:11 p.m.
"Nick's on his way up right now." Sam grabbed the empty M&M wrapper in front of the thirteen year old boy. "He's a responsibility junkie, so don't tell him I fed you candy after you crossed the tape."
"I promise," Ryan replied, smiling for the first time since he heard about Celine.
"Yo, Blake!" Nick bellowed as he maneuvered through the cramped rows of desks. "Jeez, Vega, I can't believe these work conditions you guys put up with over here. It's tight and not an ounce of privacy. It's much better over on our side."
"That's because the Crime Lab gets the big bucks to buy you geeks fancy equipment…even though we work a hell of a lot harder."
"Sure, if you call sittin' on your ass at a crime scene sippin' coffee work, yeah, I guess so." Winking, Nick placed both hands on Ryan's sagging shoulders. "You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinkin' when you dipped under the yellow tape there, Rebel without a Cause?"
Vega snickered, "Oh, he had a cause. Her name is Celine and he was yelling her name and throwing rocks at the second story like a sap in a romantic comedy."
"Only I'm not laughin'," Nick huffed as he tightened his grip on the boy's shoulders. "Your mother was worried sick about you."
"Sorry," Ryan groveled, "I felt bad for Celine because her life sucked even before all this happened."
Vega choked on his coffee. "How the hell could her life suck living in that mansion? My wife, our three daughters and two cats live in eighteen hundred square feet with two bathrooms…that sucks my friend."
"Can I take him if I keep him in the lab with me until his father gets here?"
"Yeah, the paperwork will be at the desk when he comes. He got a warning for trespass, if it happens again though…"
"I promise it won't," Ryan gave the Boy Scout pledge even though he quit scouts after the first meeting because they were 'all a bunch of dweebs in gay uniforms'. "Thanks for the candy, Mr. Vega."
"You gave him candy after breaking the law!" Nick blasted. "What the hell, man?"
Ryan covered his mouth, "Sorry."
"Let's go, Romeo." Nick escorted the teen by the arm. "Exactly how many times are you and/or your brother gonna cause me grief? And by the way…my sister told me you were spyin' on her when she was sun bathing topless."
"Not topless, nude…with another girl, and I didn't know she was your sister when I was spying."
"Oh, okay, you were standing in my backyard staring at two naked chicks, never mind." Nick smacked the boy upside the head.
"Like you never stared at two girls getting it on."
"I did it the right way…I paid them to dance for me in a club when I was eighteen, I didn't take a free peep like a trashy pervert when I was underage."
"So, you're telling me, that if you had happened upon totally nude chicks when you were my age, you would have run away instead of taking a peek for a few minutes?"
Chuckling for the first time in what seemed like days, Nick replied, "I take the fifth." He pointed down the hall. "My office is down there. I'm going to make you work until your dad gets here."
"Cool!" Ryan lit up. "Do I get to help solve murders!"
Nick unlocked his door and flipped on the lights. "No, you can file for me and shred papers."
"That's no fun."
Plopping down in his desk chair, Nick chortled, "Hell, you already got candy for breaking the law, what more do you want, punk! A civilian crossing under the crime tape is serious, Ryan. It can jeopardize a case and cause a killer to go free."
"I said I was sorry!" Ryan slumped down into a guest chair. "I wasn't thinking. Haven't you ever done something stupid because of how you felt about a girl?"
"Uh…" It would have taken hours to go down the list and pick just one. Thankfully Catherine showed up and reminded him of his biggest pheromone-induced blunder.
"Nicky! That night you were at Kristy's… " She stood in the door tapping the Hopkins case file. "Do you remember…oh…hello, Ryan, why are you here so late on a school night? Lindsay's swamped with homework."
"Tell her, Romeo."
"C'mon, don't make me tell Lindsay's mother," the mortified teen whined.
Nick did the honors instead. "He ducked under the crime tape at the Campbell estate callin'," he pressed his palm over his heart, "Celine! Celine!"
"Hey! Her dad and her sister were both killed in twenty-four hours! I was just being a nice guy!"
"Aww." Catherine appreciated the gesture. "I think I'm crushing on you, Romeo."
"Eww." Ryan cringed. "You're like…fifty, and…"
"Still incredibly hot!" Nick confirmed upon seeing his friend's mortification over her age for the second time that day.
"I'm telling Aunt Carrie you called Lindsay's mom hot."
Walking out of the office, Catherine sighed, "Trust me, after today, there's nothing you could tell your aunt about Nick that would shock her."
"What does that mean?" the curious boy queried.
"It means it's time for you to clam up and start filing." Nick pointed to a pile. "Right there…they go in the brown cabinet, and before you ask…no, it's not juicy, confidential stuff."
"You shouldn't let this back up so much."
"Are you kiddin'? That's just the last forty eight hours."
"Whoa." Ryan gaped at the pile. "And I thought I had a lot of work for school."
"Yeah, exactly…being a grownup sucks, so don't be in such a rush to give up being a kid."
With the first file in hand, Ryan asked, "Will you tell me where Celine is? No one will tell me."
"She's in temporary foster care," Nick answered while retrieving his Rodgers file box from a locked cabinet.
"Do you think she's scared?"
"I think you know the answer to that. Who wouldn't be terrified after all she's been through?" Taking a seat, Nick grabbed the phone. "It's late, but I know the case worker and I'll call her and ask how Celine's doin', okay?"
"Really!"
Shaking his head Nick leaned back in his chair. "I have a soft spot for romantic idiots who trip over themselves for a girl who does nothin' but cause them grief."
"What has my aunt ever done to cause you grief, Uncle Nick?"
"Nothin'," the retired playboy grinned. "That's why there's hope for you one day, nimrod. Hey, Talia…it's Nick Stokes. I'm really sorry for callin' so late, I didn't realize how late is was until the first ring and then I didn't want to be rude and hang up. I just wanted to see how you were doin' after that beating you took, and if you wouldn't mind, can I get an update on Celine Campbell for my file notes? I'd also like to meet with her tomorrow to discuss…here at the station at three-thirty?"
"Four-thirty!" Ryan anxiously whispered. "I have a golf lesson until four."
"Sorry, would four-thirty work instead?" Nick winked at the boy. "Four-thirty it is then…my office…perfect."
The Four Seasons – Maui
7:36 p.m. HST
"Look at that sunset," Greg cooed in his wife's ear as they sat on the beach wrapped in a blanket.
"It's perfect."
He snuggled her closer. "Only two days of perfect left, then it's back to reality."
"As long as you're in my reality, I don't mind going back." Tilting her head, she caught her husband's eyes. "I'd trade a lifetime in paradise for a year with you."
"You say that now," he chuckled, "you've only been with me for a few months. Let's see if you still feel the same way next year after we have colicky twins, no free time and no money in the bank."
"Twenty bucks says I still feel the same."
Laughing he said, "You're on, but if you win and pay me the twenty our kids will have to go without diapers that week…or that day. How much do they cost again?"
"Thirteen bucks for fifty and at roughly eight to ten per day per kid in the beginning, we'll be changing about one hundred and forty diapers a week for a while."
"A hundred and forty diapers a week!"
When Greg fell back on the beach, Tawny laughed, "Hey, at least you won't have to breastfeed them around the clock too."
Looking up at the evening sky the anxious father-to-be joked, "It was phenomenal sex, but it wasn't 'a hundred and forty diapers a week' worthy sex! Because I didn't go to the store one time for condoms, I'll be going to the store for diapers every week. Because I was desperate to sleep with my dream girl, I won't be getting any sleep for years, and the only sex I'll get will be in my dreams…that is if I'm not too exhausted to dream."
"Have you ever considered volunteering as an abstinence counselor?" Tawny quipped. "Look on the bright side…we have two carefree, all expenses paid, days left in Maui! Life could be a lot worse."
"Shhh! Don't tempt the gods."
"Come on, Chuckles." Taking his hand, she tugged. "I'm hungry."
"What do you feel like?" he asked while dusting the sand from his shorts.
"I'm thinking shrimp."
"That's not funny." He pointed to his head. "Twelve stitches because you left a violently ill guy unattended in a bathroom of hard marble."
"Oh!" Tawny snapped the blanket at her husband's ass. "I can't believe you said that!"
"I can't believe you said that 'S' word!"
"I promise I'll never say that 'S' word again if you don't say that 'S' word!"
"Deal."
Side by side they walked toward the hotel grinning.
"On second thought, I think I want shellfish for dinner."
"I'm not hungry, because the laceration on my skull is throbbing from the sutures I received thanks to my irresponsible wife."
"I love you, Chuckles."
"And yet you left me alone in the bathroom to injure myself." Greg took off running to avoid retaliation.
"Hey! Get back here!"
LVPD – Nick's Office
10:48 p.m.
"You're still here," Warrick commented as he strolled into his buddy's office sipping coffee.
"Yeah." Nick tossed his pen and kicked back. "Carrie's gonna have her nose to the grindstone all night, so I figured since I was here bailing out my nephew, I'd stay a couple of hours and catch up on paperwork. Keeps my mind occupied too."
"Cath said you and Sara took the brunt of it today."
"Be thankful you weren't invited."
"I guess somebody had to handle all the stupid people shooting each other today."
Picking up his water bottle, Nick toasted, "Here's to a better day tomorrow."
"Amen." Warrick tapped his mug against the plastic bottle. "Are you…" The ring of Nick's cell interrupted.
"It's Wendy." Nick wondered if Carrie had broken the bad news about Mike. Maybe she only wants to know more about the case or Ryan. Only one way to find out. After a deep breath, he answered, prepared for the worst. "Hey, Wendy, what's up?" he greeted in a light tone, hoping it would remain that way.
"Are you still at the lab?"
"Yeah."
"Don't panic, okay?"
"Everyone panics when someone tells them not to panic." Nick sat on the edge of his chair holding his head. "Give it to me straight, Wendy…whatever it is." His mind quickly formulated a dozen horrible 'whatevers'.
"I'm at the hospital with Carrie, Honey…she started bleeding."
"Which hospital?" He flew from his chair, desperate to find his keys under the mounds of papers littering his desk.
"I'll drive. I'll drive!" Warrick dangled his keys to get his panicked friend's attention.
"Tell her I'm on my way, Wendy." Hanging up his phone, Nick barked as he rushed for the door, "Summerlin. She's at the Summerlin ER." In the hallway, anger set in. "If she loses the baby I will kill that bastard for stressing her out today!"
Catherine came flying out of her office. "What's going on!"
"Carrie's in the ER," Warrick answered as his wife hurried down the hall with him.
"Call me!" Catherine directed as she stopped and let her husband rush after Nick.
"As soon as I know!"
The Grissoms
11:00 p.m.
"How long would it take at the earliest?" Sara asked as she lay with her husband on their bed staring into space. The flicker of two candles provided the only light in the room and the soft music in the background, while relaxing, seemed grossly out of place when talking about a violent killer.
"If Schultz has already made progress with the exoneration?" Gil rhythmically stroked his wife's hair. "November?"
"Just in time for Thanksgiving." Using humor to shield her fear, she joked, "Hey, since we already invited Greg, Tawny and Scott Sanders to dinner, how about we ask Mike and Marlene to join us? That way Scott and Mike, as the fathers-in-law, could bond."
"Sounds perfect."
On a sarcastic roll, Sara kept going, "I think I'll get the neighbors a Hallmark ornament for Christmas."
"Assuming Marlene lives through the holiday season."
"I think he'll kill her on New Year's Eve in a tragic fireworks accident."
"We're really getting a bit too morose, don't you think?"
Closing her eyes, Sara sighed, "We process dead bodies all day, it comes easy."
"I didn't return Greg's call," Gil announced in an effort to change the subject.
"Me either," she yawned.
The Four Seasons – Maui
8:09 p.m. HST
"No one returned my calls," Greg griped as he checked his cell for messages. "Not one of them! Do you think they're pissed I wasn't at the meeting?"
"No," Tawny mindlessly answered as she perused the room service menu. "I think they don't want to bother you while you're on your honeymoon."
"I feel so out of touch." Jittering around the room, he said, "Paradise is very isolating."
"But not isolating enough to keep your psycho mother from showing up." Tawny lowered the menu. "Sorry for bringing her up."
"I thought you were going to say 'sorry for calling her a psycho'."
"Not a chance." Tawny resumed reading the menu. "How about a bunch of different appetizers?"
"What I really want is chicken soup."
"Sorry…no chicken soup in paradise, only Cream of Asparagus and Tomato and Spinach Florentine."
"Yuck." He fell back on the bed. "I hope everything's okay back home. I have this bad feeling."
"Would you stop fretting!"
"I had a bad feeling the other night right before I cracked open my head."
"Did you have a bad feeling when you mother was spying on us and getting ready to pounce?"
"No."
"Then obviously your 'impending sense of doom' isn't that reliable."
Summerlin Hospital – ER Reception
11:17 p.m.
"Excuse me!" Nick stopped the first uniformed person he saw. "How can I get to Treatment Room Four? I need to get to Room Four…Carrie Blake…I got a call. I need to get there ASAP."
Warrick placed his hands on his buddy's shoulders. "And you need to calm down before you get there. Take a breath."
"What is your relationship to the patient?" Karen Davis, the triage nurse asked.
"Fiancé," he answered after exhaling. "Nick Stokes."
After checking the system and seeing 'Threatened Miscarriage' and seeing the name 'Stokes' in the notes, the nurse motioned for the understandably distraught man to follow her. "Right this way."
"Hey…" Warrick called out, "I'll be right here if you guys need me."
"I appreciate it," Nick gulped, as he hurried to follow the nurse through the automatic door. "Is she okay?"
"I don't have a status to give you, but Room Four is just down the hall."
"Okay." Running his fingers through his hair, Nick tried to block everything negative he heard and saw in the bustling hallway. Positive thoughts! Tawny had a false alarm. That's all this is.
After knocking on the door, Nurse Davis entered. "I have the patient's fiancé, Nick Stokes."
"Nicky!" Carrie called out from the exam bed where she was flanked by the doctor, and Wendy who was holding her tight.
"I'm sorry it took so long, we…" Upon meeting her eyes he knew it wasn't a false alarm. "Carr…"
After a tight squeeze, Wendy backed away to let Nick take over.
"I can't believe this is happening," Carrie squeaked as her strongest tears yet flowed. "One minute I was laughing with Wendy and the next…"
As much as he wanted to walk over and embrace his sobbing fiancée, Nick froze.
"I'm Doctor Angela Novy," the OB introduced herself. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Mr. Stokes."
They were words he'd uttered hundreds of times over the years to grieving parents, but it wasn't until the message was directed at him about his child, that he understood its uselessness.
As was necessary, the doctor forged on with her textbook reply, "I just explained that it was extremely early in the pregnancy; if it weren't for the blood test performed during your fiancée's physical, she probably wouldn't have found out yet. She just would have thought she had a slightly heavier period. While understandably devastating, this is really much more common than you think, especially for first pregnancies…one in four, some believe one in three, which translates to about a million a year. The good news is, I didn't see anything during my physical exam to indicate there were any physical problems that would prevent success in the future. Upwards of eighty-five percent of all women who miscarry, go on to have a normal pregnancy the next time. As for a cause…the majority of the time we can't determine it. Your fiancée asked if sexual intercourse or undue stress in the last twenty-hours would have done it and the answer is no, not in this early stage or without physical injury, which was not present. When I see the labs, I'll know more." Unsure if the man had heard anything she said, the doctor nodded and headed for the door, "I should have those labs in another fifteen minutes or so."
If asked, Nick wouldn't have been able to repeat a single word the doctor had uttered. "I…" he gulped and fell silent, unable to summon anything to say at all. Hoping it was a nightmare he opted to ride it out until he woke up.
"Nicky…" Carrie gasped for air, desperate to stop sobbing.
After wiping her tears, Wendy walked over and took Nick's hand, gently leading him to the bed. "The doctor didn't just say that to give you false hope. I had two miscarriages after the boys and look how healthy McKenna and Ashley are. I know how much you're both hurting, believe me, I know, but really…it's going to be okay. As incomprehensible as it seems right now, life will go on." Taking Carrie's hand she pressed it into Nick's, knowing they were both thinking they had failed the other in some way, when really it was no one's fault at all. "I'll be outside if you need me."
"I'm so sorry," he finally whispered, wishing he could change the outcome. "I don't know what to say or do to..."
"Just hold me," Carrie pleaded and when he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her close, she could almost believe Wendy's words.
"You don't deserve this." His tears dropped with hers on the crisp white sheet. "Why did this have to happen to you? You're such a good person, Carrie. Hell, you were just helping a homeless woman yesterday and…this shouldn't be happening to you. You wanted this so much."
"Everything happens…for a reason." She clung to the catchall phrase like a life raft, hoping there was a divine purpose.
Nick couldn't think of a spiritual reason worthy of causing her such pain.
"We still have each other, right?" she asked in a trembling voice, recalling their recent fight and the 'would we stay together if there wasn't a baby on the way' scenarios. "Right, Nicky?" she prodded when he didn't respond.
"Are you kidding?" He cupped her face. "Having you in my life is the only reason I have for waking up tomorrow, Sweetheart."
"But what if I can't ever…you want to be a father, what if…"
As their tears fell in unison he answered, "We already talked about this, remember? We'll have our family one way or another, it doesn't matter how. Please believe me." He wiped her tears, even though it was a losing battle. "Please believe me, Carrie."
"I do."
His heart aching, Nick forced a smile and answered nostalgically, "Say it just like that on our wedding day, Sweetheart." For a split second she smiled back and they both knew the healing process, however long it would take, had begun. "Are you in any physical pain?"
"No. That seems wrong, but no." His embrace tightened just in time. "I remember when this happened to Wendy…she's right…life goes on, but right now…"
"It hurts like hell."
She nodded against his chest.
"What are we supposed to do?" the planner asked as his life spiraled out of control.
"What we do best…heal each other."
The Grissoms
11:48 p.m.
Their arms locked around each other, Gil watched Sara sleep. In the still room, he savored each of her peaceful breaths, hoping the nightmares that had plagued her the last several nights would grant her a reprieve.
The tranquility was a welcome surprise. He had been certain they would have spent the night obsessing over the meeting and Mike's release, but surprisingly they had passed the time falling a little deeper in love with each other and agreeing that life was too short to waste time worrying about things beyond their control. Every time they began dwelling on the negative, they changed course and planned for the future. While things wouldn't be as easy as they had thought, they celebrated the fact that they had more hope of a wonderful future than any of the victims they had processed in the year since they had united.
Half full or half empty, they knew their glasses could be either, and right before midnight they chose the road less traveled…optimism.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
The Blakes
12:19 a.m.
"Don't worry," Wendy assured her devastated father-in-law as she took a seat next to him on the couch. "She'll be okay, Dad, she was already doing substantially better when I left." Once Carrie and Nick were calm, she had returned home to share the bad news.
"I went through this so many times myself, I…" Ken recalled the multiple miscarriages he and his wife experienced and his heartache for Carrie grew. "I can't believe I was upset about the pregnancy. I feel so bad that I…"
"We all gave them a little razzing over it." Paul dropped onto the couch next to his wife. "You know Carrie, Dad…she wouldn't want us sitting around feeling guilty in hindsight."
"Paul's right." Wendy slipped her hand into her husband's. "Right before I left she said, 'please don't walk on eggshells around me, Sis. The last thing I need right now is to feel defective and abnormal…just be yourself'."
"That sounds like Carrie," Paul sighed, thinking back to when he and Wendy suffered their first loss. He hated all the doting by co-workers, when all he wanted to do was mourn privately and move on. "We'll sit the kids down in the morning and make sure they understand what to say and do around her."
Feeling bad for Ken, Wendy took his hand too. "Carrie's in good hands with the doctor and Nick." Her tears activated when she saw the usually stoic man brush a tear. "It'll be easier to believe me when you see her, she's okay."
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Summerlin Hospital
12:27 a.m.
"The blood work looks great, Ms. Blake," the doctor cheerily announced. "Since you told me your fertility specialist confirmed that your genetic testing profiles didn't present any problems, and since you're both very healthy, once you're emotionally ready, you'll be able to try again."
Nick and Carrie breathed together in relief, enjoying the positive turn on the emotional rollercoaster.
"The nurse will be in with your discharge paperwork shortly. Best of luck to you both at your upcoming wedding and in the future."
"Thank you, Doctor," Nick replied in a voice stronger and happier than he would have imagined possible an hour before. "That's good…real good…yeah."
"At least I don't have cancer, right?" Carrie declared, always looking for the bright side. "And we can try again in the future."
"I love your optimism, Darlin'."
Now that the doctor was gone and the latest news was positive, Carrie took her fiancé's hand, "Please don't think this means anything bad. I swear I'm not changing my mind, because I've never loved you more than I do right now."
"Uh…" Nick froze, fearing she was going to hand back her ring. "Okay."
"I vote we switch back to our original wedding plans…February 11th, the way things were supposed to be before I got…" pregnant. She couldn't say it.
"Really?"
Trying to sound as upbeat about the future as shock and devastation would allow, she explained, "It will give us time to recover, because the thought of planning the happiest day of my life when I'm grieving, seems disrespectful…and impossible. Also, I think it's a good idea for us to have some time to relax and enjoy each other, and our beautiful new home, and Binda's puppyhood, without the pressure of planning a rushed wedding that doesn't need to be rushed anymore, because I'm not…uh, and it will also give me time to settle into my job at BPAC and…"
"Yeah, that all makes sense." Believing it wasn't a ploy because she was changing her mind, Nick confidently replied, "I vote yes."
"Then it's a keeper." Biting back her tears, she pecked his lips. "Just like you."
When the door opened, the nurse asked, "Ready to go home with your fiancé, Ms. Blake?"
"Absolutely," she answered before whispering in her man's ear, "Let's go home, Nicky."
Holding her tight he replied, "I'm already there."
Author's Notes:
A shout out to country music fans with Nick's last line.
I know the miscarriage is a disappointing development for some, but sadly it's also a realistic one. With three women pregnant, like the statistics show, there was a high probability one would have a problem. Like so many things in the story, this one plot point will impact many people, making them think and re-evaluate things. Most importantly, for Nick and Carrie, they'll grow significantly as individuals and a couple because of it. So I ask to please focus on the positive Nick and Carrie fans…it was very early in the pregnancy, they're healthy and able to try again in the future and everything happens for a reason. If they can work through, I hope you can too.
Next Chapter: To quote Gary Allan…struggles make you stronger and the changes make you wise. Posting: Thursday, August 10
Maggs