Laws of Motion – Book 3
Written by: Ms. Maggs/Edited by: KJT
Chapter 12
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Crime Lab – Grissom's Office
6:12 a.m.
"Knock knock." Sipping her Starbucks latte, Catherine entered her friend's office. "Warrick told me you got here at five-fifteen." Noting the open file boxes and piles of documents she curiously asked, "What's up?"
Removing his glasses, Gil sat back in his chair. "Do you remember the conversation we had about Mike's wife when I first showed you the article about the boating accident?"
Turning the laptop toward Catherine he pointed at the screen. "Check the cause of death."
"Drowning. The DB from the Lucky Seven?"
"No." Concern overwhelmed his expression. "This is Beth Rodgers' death certificate…Mike's wife. She didn't die from breast cancer, she drowned…while boating. It was ruled accidental. So why the breast cancer lie?" Sliding the laptop back he busied himself pointing and clicking.
"Hmm. That is a bit odd." Sitting back in the chair she pondered aloud, "Can you pull up a local newspaper and see if they covered the story?"
With a cocky smile he informed her, "I'm already there."
"Of course you are."
Once again he turned the laptop towards Catherine and silently they took in the details. The headline read 'Dallas Woman Drowns in Sailing Accident' and right below was a photo of Officer Mike Rodgers, his face filled with despair and his clothes drenched.
Sighing, Catherine sat back against her chair. "Tough break. He gets knocked out while trying to secure the boom, she goes overboard and when he comes to he can't find her. He must have been frantic. The Coast Guard said he almost died looking for her…" For a moment her thoughts carried her back to the night Eddie died. "Loss is never easy no matter the circumstances."
"Yeah, so?" Catherine dropped into a guest chair.
"Have you ever seen the movie Sleeping with the Enemy?"
"The porn flick where the spy is captured by a bunch of girls and…"
"No." Gil rolled his eyes. "It stars Julia Roberts and…"
"Oh! Yeah, I remember that one. She fakes her death because her husband is a psycho who keeps beating her."
"That's the one." Gil held up a hard copy photo of Mike standing in drenched clothes crying. "Sara has this crazy idea that Beth Rodgers saw that movie and faked her death to get away from her psycho husband and that she's really alive somewhere. She thinks if we can find her and convince her to testify, we can nail Rodgers for something, maybe even attempted murder."
"What!" Catherine burst out laughing. "What made her come up with that?"
"Ivan Radko, Bruce's bodyguard. He told her that Celine's mother faked her death to escape from being whacked."
"Seriously?" Catherine tossed her empty cup in the trash. "I mean I've heard of movies giving people crazy ideas. Remember that one with Woody Harrelson and Juliette Lewis?"
"Natural Born Killers," Gil confirmed. "Set off a string of copy-cat crimes. It's out there, but not beyond the realm of possibility. The question is…how does one find a person who's faked their own death and is hiding under a new identity? With Celine's mother it was easy, because Radko knew where she ran."
"In the movie, the psycho husband finds his mother-in-law and works backwards from there. Why not pay Beth's parents a visit?"
"They live in Dallas."
"Stokes territory."
Nick and Carrie's
6:24 am
"Any regrets?" Nick asked as he gently washed the dried blood off Carrie's tattoo while she perched on the edge of the bathroom counter.
"None," she confidently replied while wincing. "But I'm counting the minutes until it's completely healed and not painful."
"I'm with ya." Patting the area with a clean towel he said, "Go lay on the bed and let it air dry for fifteen minutes and then I'll goo you."
"How come you didn't let me goo you?"
"I wasn't gonna wake you early after you had such a hard time fallin' asleep last night."
"I'm used to you spooning me, so it felt really weird sleeping on my stomach." Poking his side as they walked to the bed she teased, "And since you slept on your back, you snored."
"Sorry, Sweetheart, I was beat." Lying next to her, Nick checked his watch. "What time are you gonna break the news to Wendy?"
"I can't believe you encouraged her to take in Celine when you know she's going to be a wreck about Mike getting out."
"I honestly forgot all about that bastard when I was worried about Celine. That's also why I didn't think about askin' you if Ryan could live here temporarily until after I agreed." Shaking his head, Nick admitted, "I know it's hard to believe I cared that much when that girl was such a nasty little cuss to Lindsay, but when I saw her...damn…I think it was more shocking to see her so devastated, because she was such an overconfident bitch before this happened, if that makes any sense. I kept thinkin' it would be like the Shelly nightmare happening to me but with my family and life as I knew it disappearing after that. I woulda jumped off a cliff. The poor kid hasn't even been allowed to return to her house to get more stuff. Freakin' Feds. I understand that he was secretly under investigation for RICO violations and shit and they're freezin' assets, but come on…she wants her clothes, not diamond necklaces, for Christ sake. Hell, the only good part of that news was Mrs. Campbell was cut off from her husband's money too. That tramp was all over town spendin' it." Glancing over, he caught Carrie's eyes. "Wendy said I can't replace the baby by helpin' a teen. I don't want to adopt her. I just want to get her somewhere safe for now, because I remember how scary Sara said things were when she was with strangers after her mom killed her dad."
"I love you for that."
Smiling, he said, "We'll see if you change your mind after living with a teenager for a while."
"Hopefully it won't take too long for Sara to track down Celine's mom and orchestrate a happy ending."
The Keston Residence – Fox Chapel, PA
9:30 EST
Sitting in her rental car, Sara studied the massive Colonial home and double checked the address given to her for Melanie Keston, aka Sally Wells. She had imagined the woman who faked her death and ran away from a millionaire casino mogul had picked a quiet life devoid of extravagance, so the expensive estate home was unexpected.
"I won't find out anything sitting here," Sara mumbled as she opened the car door.
Walking up the cobblestone path, she stressed over how she'd broach the subject, hoping the woman was alone since she saw a man leave in a Mercedes earlier and the two children shuttled away in a car driven by an older woman, presumably the nanny.
After a deep breath, Sara pressed the doorbell and anxiously paced. Luckily, only twenty seconds passed before the door lurched open. "Uh, hi."
Melanie Keston inspected the woman standing before her. "Hello."
"My name is Sara Sidle." Holding out her LVPD ID, she nervously continued, "I'm a Criminalist with the Las Vegas Police Department and I'm here to ask you a few questions concerning Bruce Campbell." When she saw the well-dressed thirty-five year old wince, Sara knew she had the right woman.
"I'm sorry, I don't know anyone by the name of Bruce Campbell."
"It's okay, Sally. I know your secret. Ivan Radko is in police custody back in Vegas and he told me everything." Realizing it had to be a huge shock, Sara softly said, "I know this has to be very difficult for you, but we need to talk. Bruce is dead." She held up the newspaper and pointed to the headline. "He was shot to death. You don't have to worry about him coming after you anymore."
"Wh…" Her breathing quickened. "No, I don't know what you're talking about. You have the wrong person."
"I know I don't." Sara held out a wedding photo. "That's you and Bruce." She saw no reason to beat around the bush, so she forged on. "You were married and had two daughters with him, Nina and Celine. He asked for a divorce, but when you wanted half of his bank account and custody of the children, he decided having you killed was a much easier route. You were afraid that if you tried to take the girls, they'd end up in harm's way, so you faked your death and ran. If Ivan hadn't tipped you off, you would have been killed. I'm not judging your decision. You did what you believed was best for your daughters."
"You have to go! My husband doesn't know anything about…you have to go, please!"
"Mrs. Keston," Sara stepped closer. "The reason I'm really here is to talk about your daughters. I'm very sorry to be the one to tell you, but…Nina was killed two days before her father and Celine is in protective custody. Again, I'm very sorry to be so blunt, but I've learned on the job that prolonging the news only makes it more painful."
"Dead?" Her knees weak, Sally clutched the door frame as she went inside to sit on the foyer bench. "I…I haven't seen them since I left, Celine was just a toddler. Ivan used to send me photos, but…it made it harder, so I asked him to stop sending them. H…how did Nina die?"
After closing the door behind her, Sara reached into her purse for tissues. "She was accidentally killed during a fight with a party guest at her house. It was quick. We have the man in custody and he's pleaded guilty to manslaughter." She saw no reason to tell her it was a drug deal gone bad.
Bringing the clump of tissues to her eyes, Sally asked, "Was Celine hurt?"
"No, she was safe in her room at the time, but as you can imagine, she's devastated and scared." Sara crouched in front of the stunned woman. "Celine thinks you're dead, and I know it's been a long time, but after the initial shock, I'm sure she'll understand why you did what you did and be thrilled to have you back in her life."
"Excuse me?" Looking up from her tissues, Sally whispered, "You don't understand, Ms…"
"Sara's fine."
"My husband doesn't know anything about Sally Wells Campbell or my previous marriage and children. He believes I'm Melanie Wilson. He doesn't know I had to leave home as a teenager because my father was an alcoholic who liked to beat me when the mood struck him. He doesn't know I used to dance for a living."
"I'm sure if you explained the situation and…"
"No, you don't get it!" Gripped with fear, the trembling woman said, "I was never divorced from Bruce, and the documents Ivan gave me to use, the Social Security number and birth certificate…they were illegal. My marriage to Peter would be void…I'd go to jail for assuming someone else's identity. Peter would never forgive me for lying and getting married in the Church. He'd take the children from me. My husband is a very religious man and his name is respected at his company. He's a leader in the community. Don't you see, Sara…I'd lose my home for the third time in my life…and I won't be of much use to Celine from prison. Please…please go, and pretend you never found me. Please, Sara. Please understand…I've waited my whole life to have a stable home and family, I can't lose it…I can't."
Realizing the woman had the same fear in life as her, Sara fell silent.
"I know you must think I'm a terrible mother for turning my back on Celine, but I have two innocent children and they don't deserve to grow up without a mother because of Bruce." Frantic that the woman would turn her in, she rushed to grab her children's pictures. "Look at them! Think of what they'll go through if I go to jail! I know what it's like to lose a mother. I hate that Nina and Celine had to grow up without me, but they would have if I had stuck around to be killed, so…"
"Okay." Sara choked on her tears. "I understand. I do."
Clutching the framed photo of her babies, Sally cried, "You won't turn me in?"
"No." Sara glanced around the well-appointed living room and the family photos on the baby grand piano. "I know what it's like to lose a mother and a home. Celine's lost both already, but your kids still have their happiness. You're right," she gulped. "It doesn't make sense to take it from them or you…the cycle has to stop somewhere." Wiping her tears, she nodded at the sobbing woman. "Best of luck to you and your family."
"What will happen to Celine?" Sally cried.
"She'll go into the foster care system." Sara roughly cleared her throat. "Like I did."
"She'll get her father's money though."
"If there's any left." After a deep breath Sara informed her, "The Feds have frozen his assets. He was under investigation."
"If she needs money, I could help with that…on the sly. Peter's a financial officer, so he watches money even at home. He gives me a shopping allowance for clothes, but he doesn't ask for receipts. I could put some away each time and then send it to you. I might be able to sell some old jewelry without him noticing. Leave me your number. That way I can see how she's doing and get an address to send the money to once I have it. You can say it's from an anonymous donor."
Sara reached into her purse for a business card and handed it over. "It has my office phone and my cell."
"Okay." Her tears hitting the card, Sally whispered, "It's something, right?"
"Absolutely." Sara pushed out a smile. "You didn't ask for your father to drink and use you as a punching bag. You didn't ask for Bruce to want you dead either. Everyone should be entitled to a safe, happy home."
"Thank you for understanding."
"I wish I couldn't," Sara quietly replied, "But I do."
The Blakes
7:21 a.m.
"Guess what I did!" Carrie announced when she stepped into the kitchen grinning. Her father was seated at the table with McKenna on his lap and next to him were the boys and Paul. Wendy stopped in mid-pancake serve to hear the news. "I got inked!"
"No way!" Ryan flew from the table. "Show it to me!"
"Me too!" Paul hurried over. "Wait…it's not on your butt or some place even more scandalous, is it? Knowing Nick, he probably wanted it…"
"Paul!" Carrie scolded. "It's right above my butt, to the left of my spine. I didn't want to put it directly in the middle because then it would look like the bird is flying out of my crack."
"Good planning," Wendy rolled her eyes. She hated tattoos, and worried that her kids would think were super cool now that Nick and Carrie had them. "At least this explains why you're wearing your skirt pulled up to ribcage like a female Steve Urkel."
"It rubs if I wear at the waistline."
"It's totally cool!" Ryan loved the intricate multi-colored bird. "I never woulda thought you'd do something cool, Aunt Carrie. Nick's a great influence on you."
"Hey! It was my idea, not his. He got one too, so we match."
"If you're waiting for me to yell, I'm not going to." Normally, Ken Blake would have expressed his disgust, but since his daughter was smiling instead of bawling her eyes out, he let go of his disappointment. "If getting inked makes you happy, Sweetheart, then I'm glad you did it."
Inspecting the artwork, Paul teased. "I hope the guys in the locker room don't see that pretty flaming birdie on Nick's butt."
Punching her brother, Carrie informed the group, "Nicky's bird looks masculine and it's above his heart."
"Did an octopus ink you, Aunt Carrie?" McKenna jumped off her grandfather's lap to see what the rest of her family was gawking at. "Octopuses have ink in their tentacles."
Sean quickly corrected his sister, "Actually, the ink is in a sac, not the tentacles."
"Ewwwwww!" the little girl shrieked. "You did that on purpose! It's slimy and…"
"That's just the medicine to put on it until it heals and it's swollen and a little red because I just had it done last night. It will look much better in a couple of weeks, Sweetie."
"Are those numbers disguised in the flames, Aunt Carrie?" asked Sean as he carefully studied the details. "They look like dates actually."
"They are." Carrie stepped back from the crowd and breathed through the moment. "The date Nick almost died and the date we lost our baby." Retuning her skirt to its place four inches above her waist, she elaborated, "The two times we've risen from the ashes together."
"Aww." Wendy hugged her sister-in-law. "That almost makes me like tattoos."
"Awesome! Now I can get one!" Ryan jumped for joy.
Wendy shot her boy a warning glare. "Not as long as you live under my roof."
"No problem, I'll be living with Nick and Aunt Carrie as of tonight."
"I'll let you get inked, Ryan." Paul handed McKenna a pen. "Give your brother a tattoo."
Crime Lab
7:45 a.m.
"I heard you and Carrie got inked," Sofia called out from Nick's doorway. "Irving went running with Tanner this morning and told me when he got back. I didn't want to harass you about it in front of Jas earlier."
"So you and Irving are havin' sleepover dates now, huh?" Nick tossed his pen down. "Sounds serious."
"He asked me to move in with him," she commented as she shut the door behind her. "I'm not sure I'm ready to give up my personal space."
"It's a big adjustment, trust me, but the loss of freedom is totally worth havin' someone to come home to after a bad day."
"Speaking of bad days…" her voice softened. "How are you and Carrie doing?"
"Much better, thanks." After a cleansing breath he said, "So, uh…Kyra told us you had a tattoo done on your lower back a couple of weeks ago."
Sensing he needed a little levity, Sofia pointed to Nick's chest. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
"You're on." Laughing, Nick rounded his desk and yanked closed the blinds over his glass wall. "Ladies first."
"No, age before beauty."
"Fine." Grinning, he undid his buttons. "Carrie got hers on her lower back and it's much more feminine." Pulling open his shirt, Nick asked, "Do you like it?"
"It's fantastic." She inspected the artwork. "Tanner does brilliant work He turned a couple of Irving's old gang tattoos into really nice designs."
"Okay, you're up. Drop 'em, Curtis."
"Just like old times…no foreplay."
"Oh!" Nick blushed. "So not true! I bought you a beer every time."
Sofia cracked up as she turned around and unzipped her pants. "I never thought I'd be doing this for you again."
"Ooh, very nice." He bent over to study the design and tried to ignore the red lace of her panties right below it. "Hibiscus?"
"You always did know your flowers, Romeo."
"I thought it was going to be 'I heart Irving' on your ass," he joked, happy things weren't awkward after the Schultz interrogation.
"Hell, no, getting the man's name tattooed on my ass is an even bigger commitment than moving in with him."
"So, are you movin' in with him or not?" Ever since Don described how heart broken Sofia was after the breakup, he wished she'd find a happy ending with Irving. "He's a great guy… and you're not gettin' any younger," he teased.
"What!"
"Ow!" Nick stumbled backwards from the gut punch and fell to the floor when he tripped over his garbage can. "Jeeez! I was just jokin' with ya!" He rubbed his gut. "You throw a mean punch. Six inches over and you would have re-busted my spleen."
"I should have, because your joke wasn't funny!" she raged. "And I wouldn't talk about aging, because your hair's looking a little thinner this year."
"That's not funny" He pointed to the floor. "But that is. You dropped your pants when you punched me."
The sound of the door opening startled them enough to stop their laughter.
"What the hell?" Catherine gaped at her half-naked co-workers. "Explain! Now!"
"We're showin' each other our new tattoos!" As Sofia yanked up her pants, Nick pointed to his chest. "See! So get your mind out of the gutter, Willows."
"How'd you end up on the floor?"
"I fell over my garbage can."
Catherine breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought Don's trip down memory lane stirred up some old feelings for you."
"Oh, I have old feelings, alright." Sofia scowled at Nick. "He called me old, and I have feelings of hatred for him all over again."
Nick turned to Catherine to be the neutral third party. "She's said she's thinking about movin' in with Irving and I joked around sayin' he's a great guy and she's not gettin' any younger. She gut punched me for it."
"Good!" Catherine looked at her friend in horror. "If I had known that's what happened, I would have kicked you when you were down on the floor. You don't joke about that stuff, Stokes. You should know better."
"Holy hell." Nick plopped in his chair. "It must be raining cats and dogs outside if the two if you are agreein'. I'm really sorry, Sof."
"I don't like it when you call her that," Catherine commented as her face twisted into a cringe. "It's too intimate."
"I call you Cath and we've never been intimate."
Sofia snickered, "Only because she was too old for you."
"No, it was because I wouldn't 'do a chick for him' like you did."
"Here we go." Nick waited for the fur to fly. "You'll have to take the cat fight outside, Ladies, because I have a call."
The Townhouse
8:16 a.m.
"Hello," Scott answered the house phone after swallowing a sip of coffee.
"Dad…"
"What are you doing up so early, Greg?" Scott checked his watch. "It's only five in Maui."
"We're not in Maui anymore, we just landed at McCarran. Would you pick us up?"
"Of course." Scott left his seat at the kitchen counter. "Is everything okay? Why'd you decide to come home early?"
"Paradise is nice, but we started missing the people in our reality. Tawny really wants to be there for Carrie and I wanted to be there so Nick doesn't have to cover for me at work."
"That's nice." Scott grabbed his car keys. "I'm leaving right now."
Pittsburgh Airport
11:54 am EST
"I'm taking the next flight home," Sara informed her husband in a lifeless voice.
"What happened?"
"It's complicated, and not really something I want to get into long distance." Discussing her empathy for Sally Wells was something she needed to do in person, when a comforting hug was only a teardrop away.
"Okay, Honey."
"Did you find anything on Beth Rodgers?"
"An address for her parents in Dallas. Nick said it's only fifteen minutes from his parents' ranch. We can't confront them though. They supported Mike at his trial, remember? They thought of him as the son they'd never had…just like Wendy's parents."
"Sometimes people have a change of heart."
Crime Lab – Nick's Office
9:04 a.m.
"It worked!" Hodges exclaimed as he flew into his boss' office.
"You're late."
"That's your fault!"
Glancing up from his computer, Nick huffed, "How the hell is it my fault?"
"I was sleeping with Celeste! We talked for hours and then…you know…things got a little heated." Hodges stood a little taller. "We had a Mouse Trap marathon. I won seven out of ten games and was crowned The Big Cheese." Winking he added, "After my victory, we did a little celebrating…I took her out for an Ice Cream Soda. We held hands, it was great. When we got back to my place, we watched Gilligan's Island reruns and fell asleep on the couch. That's why I didn't hear my alarm when it went off in the bedroom. We're going to date and see how things go."
"Good for you, man."
"Thank you for your advice, it worked like a charm."
"You're welcome." Nick pointed to the door. "Now get your ass to Trace, Mabel is coverin' for you."
"Thanks, Boss," Hodges gushed from the doorway. "I owe you."
The Townhouse
9:21 a.m.
"A thousand dollars," Greg collapsed onto the couch, clutching a throw pillow like a woobie. The news of Charlie's death and Mr. Dwyer's suicide already had him down, but learning he had to move out and pay rent to Grissom sent him further over the edge.
"A thousand is low for a place of this size and quality." When Tawny announced she was meeting Carrie at BPAC, Scott seized the opportunity to break the eviction news to Greg and have a reality chat. "It'll be okay, son."
Remembering his talk with Tawny the previous day, Greg lamented, "You don't understand, Dad. Just yesterday, Tawny opened up and confessed how scared she is about providing for the babies. I puffed out my chest and went on and on about how I will take care of my wife and children. I have her totally believing in me and now I find out that I can't even keep this roof over her head. This sucks. I don't have anything saved because I spent everything on the engagement, wedding extras, and moving in here. I didn't plan on paying rent for a year."
"I have an idea."
"Thanks, but I don't want another handout, Dad." Closing his eyes, Greg had one of the moments Tawny accused him of…a fleeting wish for her not to be pregnant, so life would be much easier. "I'll head in to work and tell Nick I want to transfer back to DNA. My DNA salary is double. I'll be able to get a big enough place in a decent neighborhood. If I pull in the maximum OT on top of that…"
"I appreciate the initiative, son, but that strategy creates a new issue and doesn't solve all your problems." Taking a seat on the couch, Scott quietly said, "You'd be settling, which can lead to resentment."
"The only person I can resent is my non-condom-wearing self."
"That's exactly my concern. You're an emotional guy. First you'll internalize that self-loathing and then you'll eventually project it onto your wife and kids. Aside from that, I think you're doing a great job where you are and I'd hate to see the LVPD lose you in the field. Yes, you're at the bottom right now and making lousy pay, but I know you'll climb fast and be a leading Criminalist in the future."
"Thanks, Dad. That means a lot since you weren't thrilled about me taking the CSI job instead of working Corporate Chem for a hundred grand."
"I'm not the same person I was a year ago, son." Grabbing the real estate folder Gil's agent had dropped by the night before, Scott said, "I'm not even the same person I was last week. When I think of Charlie and how his father pushed him to go to medical school while his mother had movie star dreams for the boy…all that focus on huge success and look how it ended. I've decided to measure success differently going forward. I'm going to measure it by the happiness and heartache I experience and cause. If I can bring you, Tawny and my grandchildren happiness while lessening your heartaches, then I'm a successful man. If you locking away bad guys helps lessen the heartache of others and I help you stay at that job, then I'm not only helping my family, I'm helping the victims and their families too. You have to think of the greater good, not your ego. Money is a necessity, but it's not how I view your worth."
Greg stared at his father. "Uh, were you hanging out at the Buddhist Temple chillin' with the monks while I was gone? 'Cause I'm feelin' the Zen."
"Not quite." Chuckling with his son, Scott informed him, "I spent some quality time with Becca and she was going on and on about karma and how helping others has brought her happiness. She got my wheels turning. As a side note, her husband is a fantastic cook. They make a lovely couple. They balance each other very well. I can't wait for my next dinner invitation."
"Becca was teaching you something?"
"Trust me, I'm just as shocked as you." Scott opened the real estate folder. "I have a plan that helps you, Tawny, the twins and me. It's not just about having a roof over your head. You working double time to provide a roof would leave the bulk of the child rearing to Tawny. After caring for two newborns twenty-four, seven, you won't recognize her, and I'm not talking about her figure." He handed over the first photo. "Take a look."
Greg studied the photo. "A house?"
"Not just any house. Last night while Gil and I were having dinner, he called his real estate agent to ask her if she could look for properties that would suit a couple, children and their grandfather. She told him that one of her co-workers had the perfect listing and it's been on the market for months without a bite because it's not suited for most buyers. The owner built it so her parents could live with her and her husband, while each maintaining some privacy. I'd have my own entry, garage, master suite, small living room and a good size office. You'd have a two-car garage, and a nice living room downstairs. Upstairs are two bedrooms and a master suite with a little office." He handed over the second photo. "We both have doors leading to the back patio. And here's the yard for the play area."
"That's a really good size. "That's the common kitchen, it's really roomy."
"Very nice." Noting the address on the real estate sheet, Greg's enthusiasm mounted, "Hey, this is Nick's neighborhood."
"Three blocks away," Scott smiled. "I thought Carrie and Tawny would be happy about that."
"Definitely. "Check out the pool. It's really cute, even has a little slide. The girls will love it."
"That's so cool."
"Now…you're not off the hook financially." Scott handed over the paper he drew up. "We're buying the house together with my cash, and then you will be paying me toward full ownership. We'll split the utilities and I'll foot the property taxes and insurance. Whenever you and Tawny are on your feet and can handle the kids on your own, I'll move out, we'll convert to a traditional mortgage, and you can assume the taxes and insurance. I also want to make it clear that I'm not just doing this to bail you out. I'm doing it to help, yes, but I need it too. Living alone isn't something I'm up for just yet. What do you say?"
Peeling his eyes off the backyard photo, Greg sighed, "I can't."
"You can't?" Scott was certain the answer would be answer 'yes'. "But…"
Now that he had successfully tricked his father, Greg's face exploded into a smile. "I can't possibly say no! You're right, this is the perfect solution for everyone," Throwing his arms around him, he rejoiced, "Thank you!"
"You're welcome," Scott tightened his arms around his only child. "You know, Carl Bard said, 'though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending'."
"That sounds like something Grissom would say."
"He did. I absorbed it."
"Ha! That's my line."
"Yeah, I absorbed it."
BPAC
9:46 a.m.
"I soaked another tissue," Tawny declared as she reached for a fresh one.
"Please stop crying," Carrie pleaded as tears continued to slip down her cheeks. "When you cry, I cry, and I've already cried buckets."
"Hey!" Becca called from the doorway. "What are you doing here, Tawny! You're supposed to be in Maui having a Spa Day!" Immediately she pieced it all together…the early return…the tears. "Oh my God…you're getting divorced."
"What! No!" Tawny tossed her tissues in the trash. "Greg and I came back early together to be here for Carrie and Nick."
Right! The baby! That's why they're crying. "So, you're still happily married." Becca walked into the room. "Thank God, any more bad news and I'll need a straight jacket."
"Aww." Tawny smiled at her former enemy. "Times have really changed if you think Greg getting divorced from me would be bad news instead of an opportunity to pounce."
"Yeah, now that my meds have fully kicked in, I wouldn't date Hoj in a million years. Oh…I don't mean that in a bad way," she clarified when the women scowled, "it just means that he's back to best friend material and I'm not physically attracted to him. Like back in college, when he'd take me to gay bars as his fag hag."
Upon seeing Carrie's obvious 'Is Greg really Bi?' look, Tawny said, "He took her to gay bars so other guys wouldn't hit on her, because whenever they went out to regular bars together, he'd end up alone."
"Really?" Becca thought back to those nights. "That does explain why he got so pissed off when I hooked up with a chick one night. Although, I'm still a little confused as to why he liked to…" When she saw Carrie's mouth drop open, she explained, "No, I don't like girls now, I never really did actually. I just tried dating women after hooking up with too many men who thought they were God's gift to the world. You know the type."
"Hey, ladies!" Drew warmly greeted the group who for some reason suddenly broke out laughing. "I have Ron on hold and he has some news he wants to share with us, so how about y'all pile into my office." This job reminds me of growing up at the ranch…I'm surrounded by intelligent, but overly emotional girls.
The three women followed, all happy for a diversion away from tears.
"Have a seat., Ladies. I even have a new box of Godiva just for y'all to munch." Drew slid into his black leather Captain's chair and pressed the speaker button. "Okay, Ron, we're all here."
"Hello, Ladies…"
"Hi, Ron," they replied like a chorus.
When Drew cracked up, Tawny asked, "What's so funny?"
"Sorry…with Ron on speaker and the three of you lovely ladies of different hair colors sitting before me, all I can think of is Charlie's Angels."
Carrie snickered, "I guess that makes you dorky Bosley."
"Hey, now."
"What? Bill Murray was hardly a geek in that movie," Tawny retorted. "And I think he's cute for an old guy."
Ron's voice shot through the speaker. "David Doyle was Bosley, not Bill Murray, and Bill Murray's not old, Honey, he's fifty-six, I'm seventy-two."
"Sorry, Ron! You don't act a day over forty!" Tawny quickly apologized, then she whispered to Carrie, "Who's David Doyle?"
"Time out," Drew laughed. "We have a generation gap issue. "Ron, they made the TV show into a movie a few years back. Trust me, you didn't miss much, nothin' could ever top Farrah. I had her posters plastered all over my bedroom."
"Did Nicky?" Carrie asked, imagining her man's late 1970's bedroom.
"No, he had Erik Estrada from CHiPs as his fantasy pin up."
"Ha!" Tawny covered her mouth to stifle the laughter. "Uh oh…maybe Nick didn't take Chuckles to Club Cue by accident."
"Stop it!" Carrie staunchly defended her man as everyone laughed, "He had Erik Estrada because he was a cop on TV. Nicky was dreaming of being a cop."
Managing to squelch his laughter, Drew pretended to ponder the point. "Hmm…maybe, but that doesn't explain the one of Estrada in a red Speedo he had on the ceiling over his bed."
"He's lying!" Carrie informed the hysterical group. "I can assure you that Nicky's all man!"
Crime Lab – Layout Room A
10:04 a.m.
Holding the furry, hot pink bra in front of his chest, Nick commented, "Still has the tags on it."
"Sorry, but it looks a little small for you," Sofia cracked as she inventoried evidence with Jas.
"Yeah, and hot pink's not a good color on you, Nick."
"Aren't you two hysterical?" Nick tossed the bra on the table. "My point was, that women tend to buy sexy new underwear when they have someone new in their life, so maybe the vic didn't just have a fiancée of two years, but someone else on the side."
"He's right," Sofia chuckled, thinking of all the new stuff she had purchased before she and Irving took their relationship to a more intimate level.
"Look who's back!" Greg boomed from the doorway. "That's right! Everyone's favorite CSI!"
"What the hell?" Nick cracked a knowing smile. Carrie had mentioned that she told Tawny the sad news.
"A tropical bird told me this place was falling apart without me, so I caught the red-eye last night. So, who missed me!"
Crossing the room, Nick laughed, "These two already think I'm queer for playing with a pink bra, so what the hell." He bear hugged his friend. "I did."
"C'mon, let's give the boys some privacy," Sofia waved for Jas to follow.
"Welcome back, Greg." Jas tossed her gloves in the trash. "It's not the same around here without you."
"Yeah," Nick ribbed, "it's a hell of a lot quieter." Once they were alone, he shut the door. "You guys didn't have to cut your vacation short because of…"
"It's okay." Greg nodded. "Paradise was great, but we were ready to come home. I had some stuff to do with my dad, and there's Charlie's funeral. It's on Friday, and I wasn't supposed to start back until Monday, but I thought I'd come in today and tomorrow to help you out and take a little off your shoulders."
"I appreciate it, thanks."
"I don't know what to say except…I'm really sorry you lost the baby."
"Thanks, but don't worry, Carr and I are pulling through. We're fine…really. Hey, check this out." Nick started unbuttoning his shirt.
"Bro, we already have a rep as secret lovers. Stripping for me at the lab is only going to prop the story."
"Shut up." Laughing, Nick opened his shirt. "We got our tats last night."
"I can't believe you went through with it!" Greg stepped closer. "It's totally cool." He studied it. "Wait…are those dates in the…"
"Yeah," Nick cleared his throat, "but enough about that, let's talk about your honeymoon." While buttoning his shirt, he asked, "So, from what I gather, you had a fantastic time, except for the food poisoning?"
"And my mom showing up."
No, shit."
"Yep. There we were at the buffet and bam…Mommy Dearest. Totally took me by surprise."
McCarran Airport
1:14 p.m.
"Sara!" Gil called out as his wife mindlessly walked past the security checkpoint. "Surprise." From behind his back, he presented a bouquet of red roses. "Welcome back."
Without a word, she walked over, dropped her carryon bag and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you."
After so many misses lately, it felt great to hit a home run. "I love you, Honey." From the tight grip she had on him, he knew the experience had affected her deeply. "What happened?"
"It was like looking in a mirror," she quietly replied. "I found her, but she can't be a mother to Celine without giving up everything she's worked for…stability, security, a family…a home, and it wouldn't be just her losing out, she has two innocent children."
"So, Celine will remain in foster care."
"Yes." Sara squeezed a little harder. "At least she'll have Wendy to get her through the hardest part."
The Blakes
1:45 p.m.
"I think it's great that you're fostering Celine," Carrie announced as she stood at the counter pouring two glasses of Pinot Grigio.
"Why are we drinking in the middle of the afternoon?" Wendy asked in a laugh. "Then again, Ryan's getting bussed home from school and McKenna's having a play date with Cassie, so fill it to the rim."
"You got it." Carrie handed her sister-in-law a glass. "I've missed wine." Raised in wine country, it had been a staple of her family's diet. "Mmm…that's good," she smacked her lips. "Very crisp."
"Here's to your father moving into his own place." Wendy raised her glass.
Carrie gave a light laugh as she took a seat at the table. "I completely understand, but if you miss him, he'll only be fifteen minutes away."
"Yeah," Wendy sighed a little too disappointedly. "I'm sure Celine will be easier than having him around."
"Definitely."
"So…what's this news you have to tell me, Sis?"
"Well…" Carrie paused for another gulp of wine. "Something's come up regarding Mike." She watched Wendy's smile melt. "Would you like me to ease into it, or would you rather it be quick?"
"Quick," Wendy answered as her grip on the wine glass strengthened.
"That meeting Nicky and I had to attend at the Sheriff's office…it was orchestrated by Mike's lawyer. He has a ton of stuff against the CSIs who worked Mike's case. Stuff that is innocent, but can look very bad to a jury if presented by a skilled attorney. Don Schultz, the lawyer, is prepared to use those things to free Mike. If he does, then all the cases Nick, Sara, Gil, Sofia, Catherine, Greg and Jim have worked on, would be under scrutiny. Once that happens, defense lawyers will seize the opportunity to get their clients' cases overturned. It's a nightmare waiting to happen."
"But that doesn't mean he'll win…right?"
"I have no doubt he'll win," Carrie broke the bad news as bluntly as Wendy wanted it. "I'm sorry, but I told you during Mike's trial that his lawyer was incompetent. Knowing what I know now, there's no way Mike would have been convicted if he had a decent attorney. We lucked out back then, but our luck's run out."
Understanding the reason for the wine, Wendy chugged the glass. "When will the appeal start? When will I have to testify?"
After a steadying breath, Carrie explained, "If there was to be an appeal, all that information about the CSIs would be brought into court and key evidence, crucial to winning the trial the first time, would be thrown out. Evidence like Samantha's jacket."
"Are you telling me it's a no win situation?" Wendy's heart pounded in her chest. "That we have to go through all that humiliation! That I have to sit on the stand and tell how that monster raped me without there being any hope of a conviction?" Fighting the urge to fling her wine glass against the wall, Wendy snarled, "What's the point if only the good guys are going to suffer!"
Having led her sister-in-law exactly where she wanted, Carrie took her hand, "Exactly, Wendy…there is no point to prolonging the suffering and causing any of you humiliation."
"But we have no choice." Wendy's voice cracked, "God damn him. He just…"
"No, there is a way to do it quietly."
"What?"
"After your mom passed and you took ownership of the house, you had the keys to Samantha's room. We know the jacket was locked away until Gil showed up that day, but what if someone had taken your keys and opened the room and touched the box where the bagged jacket had been since the police turned it over to your mother?"
"But I testified that it had never been touched until Gil and his team arrived."
"That was your answer at the trial, but what if now you realize that wasn't the case…that someone had access to the keys and touched the boxes and the jacket when they were looking for something…something like hidden Christmas presents, perhaps." Watching Wendy's eyes, Carrie said, "That's all it would take. Do you think you can do that, Wendy?"
"You want me…" Wendy wished her glass wasn't empty. "You want me to say that to the judge, so Mike can walk?"
"Yes."
"You want me to be responsible for my sister's killer and my rapist going free, so he can move across the street from the Grissoms?"
Carrie swallowed hard. "Yes. Then once he's out, we'll find a legitimate way to lock him away for good."
"I can't do that!"
"You don't understand…this guy, he's going to go back and open up the case of the girl Nicky was with before she was murdered. He's going to look into the murder of my abuser and try to prove my father ordered a hit."
"He would really go after them?"
"Yes." Try as she might to hold back, Carrie's tears spilled. "The evidence that proved Nicky innocent would be thrown out and since he never stood trial for murder, there's no double jeopardy in effect. He'd look so guilty, Wendy."
"And your father really is."
"What did you just say?"
"It's not…I don't know for sure…dammit."
"What do you know?" Carrie prodded. "Tell me!"
Wendy squirmed in the chair. "Your brother overheard your father talking to your mother. He heard him say…'I just got the call, it's done, that bastard has taken his last breath.'"
"Oh my God."
Wendy panicked, "Paul will never forgive me for telling you. Please don't tell him I told you."
"I can't believe…"
As she watched Carrie turn ghostly white, Wendy took her hand and whispered, "I'll do it. I'll set him free and then the lawyer won't go digging."
The wine churning in her stomach, Carrie nodded.
"Paul was sixteen, he could have misunderstood. Maybe your father really didn't have the guy killed."
"No." Carrie hurried to the sink to splash water on her face. "I always had a feeling he did. This just confirms it."
"I can't blame him," Wendy sighed as she filled her wine glass. "If someone did to one of my kids, what that guy did to you…I'd want him dead too."
Crime Lab – Brass' Office
2:01 p.m.
"I'm gonna kill him!" Greg yelled in frustration. "This sucks on so many levels!" Jim and Nick had been briefing him on the Sheriff's meeting for ten minutes and already he was ready to strangle Don Schultz. "That DNA analysis is perfect. Perfect! I got published for it!"
"I'm really glad you weren't there, Greggo. You woulda lost it."
"Yeah." Jim leaned back in his chair. "And we've only told him about the guy trashing his DNA findings and accusing him of being Grissom's go-to guy for falsification. Imagine how ticked he'll get when he finds out that Don told all of us that Greg got it on with his male college roommate every night."
"What!"
"He didn't say you had sex with the guy," Nick clarified. "Only that you uh…went out to bars together and had…Clinton-esque sexual relations."
Jim checked his notes. "He said you were schooling your roommate on how to be gay."
"Yes, but not with my body! I took him to gay bars because he was too scared to go on his own, and I'd bring Becca, so I wouldn't have to worry about guys hitting on her. How the hell did he find that out anyway?"
Jim lowered his voice, "So, you really did give your roommate…gay dating lessons, for lack of a better term?"
When his buddy nodded, Nick whispered, "But how did you know how to date a gay guy if you weren't gay?"
"Duh…you know how to use a tampon even though you're a guy, right?" Greg casually replied.
Nick and Jim exchanged confused glances, neither willing to cop to tampon knowledge.
"What I'm saying is…you don't have to be something to know how to explain it or do it. For instance, I can describe how to make a Starbucks Mocha Latte with Whip, but I'm not a barista and I've never actually gone behind the counter and made one."
"Behind the counter," Jim laughed. "Is that a metaphor for something? Sorry…that was a totally juvenile comment." He pointed at Nick. "As evidenced by Beavis laughing his ass off, and as we all know around here…the evidence never lies. Hey, I just thought of something, Sanders, since you need to make extra cash to pay for those twins, maybe you could become a part-time gay coach. You and Stokes already have a rep on the circuit, I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to drum up business. Right, Beavis?"
Nick choked out, "He said hard."
"And I'm supposed to be the immature one of the group. Okay, fine, tell me what the lawyer said about the two of you that was embarrassing?"
"Nick qualified for the short bus, but opted to walk with his sisters."
"Seriously?" Greg gaped at his buddy.
"I've never been a big fan of labels." Nick quickly deflected, "We learned Uncle Jimmy committed a serious act of betrayal…he bet against A&M. That still has me thinkin' about your Best Man status, Boss."
"Sanders could take over," Jim suggested. "I'm sure the Club Cue bachelor party he'd throw would be fabulous."
Greg slouched in his chair. "I shoulda stayed in Maui."
Author's Notes:
I hope you enjoyed the chappie and it had a decent balance of ups and downs.
Sorry it was delayed here, but this website wasn't letting me upload again for some reason.
Thanks to:
KJT for filling in those pesky little commas!
Next Chapter: It's Friday…moving day for Celine and Ryan, which means Lindsay is going to meet her new neighbor. Doh!; Road trip! Greg, Tawny, Vartann and Becca car pool to CA for Charlie's funeral…but in case you're worried about the angst level, I didn't write the actual funeral, and there's some great moments of levity and some other high points. People tend to bond after funerals, do things to cheer each other up, and celebrate life; meanwhile, back in Vegas, some plots thicken. Posting: Tuesday, August 22
Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts,
Maggs