CSI: Ghost: Chapter 11

Parked behind a row of tall bushes where no one could see the boring grey rental car, Geoff watched Slick Willson's estate, and the guards at the gate. The only things with him were his revolver and his cell phone. Not that he was expecting anyone to call, but one never knew, and it always helped his credibility if he was there to answer it on occasion. He'd been there for five hours and was getting hungry. For sure the guards would be making a switch soon. Because surely Slick didn't want tired guards on duty. Or hungry ones, for that matter.

The estate was literally on many acres of property on the edge of the city. At the front, was a large wrought iron gate that was controlled by a button in the guard's shack. It would roll to the side, letting cars pass through and drive up the steep driveway to the large house that was out of sight from where Geoff Baker was currently parked. In the distance he could see the sprinkler system hard at work, keeping his lawn a beautiful bright green even though it was illegal in Las Vegas because of the lack of water.

Walking down the long driveway, a guard clad in black, carrying a gun at his hip, picked up a radio from his shoulder, similar to what a police officer would have, and spoke into it. A door opened in the small guard shack near the fence and the guard slipped inside. He was only there a few minutes before he left. Parked on the other side was a single black SUV. He got in and left the estate when the rolling gate was opened to let him through.

Geoff smiled to himself as he started his engine and waited patiently for a few minutes until the SUV was out of sight. He pulled out of his hiding spot and followed at a good distance. He would have much preferred his Dodge Viper, as it handled better than this old Honda jalopy, and screamed comfort to him, as he'd been driving it for years, but this car hadn't been used before in his attempts to kill Slick so he wouldn't be noticed as easily.

The SUV headed into the city, but didn't go very far when it stopped in a parking lot, at the edge, far from other cars and street lights. Geoff parked on the street nearby, but also in the dark. The guard was after coffee for himself and his coworkers, he realized as he entered a coffee shop. Geoff waited a good fifteen minutes before he got out of his car. He walked toward the SUV, slowly, looking around him as if he were lost. The guard came out of the shop, carrying a tray of paper coffee cups. He stopped when he saw Geoff.

"Can I help you with something?" the guard's voice seemed nice enough.

"I'm... oh gosh, this is really embarrassing, actually. I'm supposed to meet my girlfriend at the Tangiers and I... well..." Geoff stumbled over his words, like a truly embarrassed and lost tourist.

"You got lost?" There was a look of mirth in the guard's eyes.

"Um... yeah. I'm lost. Do you think you could help me out?"

"Sure thing, just give me a moment to put these in my car."

"Sure, sure. And thanks a lot man, I owe you one."

"Oh, not a problem."

The guard put the coffee tray in the SUV and brought out a map of the city from the glove compartment. As he was half in the car and half out, Geoff took a quick look around to make sure no one else was around. When the guard came back out, he grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, covering his mouth before he yelled for help, and dragged him into the darkness, near a tree, so he was hidden from passersby. At this late hour, however, no one else was at the shop.

"You keep quiet," Geoff said, disarming the guard. "I don't want to hear one peep out of you, you got me? You squeak, and you're a dead man. Got that?"

The guard nodded and Geoff let him go.

"What's going on? What do you want?" Oddly enough for a guard, he seemed a little scared.

Geoff took the map from his shaking hands and grabbed a pen from his own jacket. He flipped the map over to the blank side and laid it out on the dirt in front of the man and handed him the pen.

"I need you to draw me the layout of Slick's estate." The guard gaped at him. "Draw me the layout of the house, the grounds, and tell me where the guards are stationed. Do it. Now." He aimed the guard's gun at him, and cocked it. "I don't take no for an answer. You don't want to know how many men like you I've killed before."

"Ok, ok.."

The guard got to work, drawing quickly. Geoff watched him work as he kept an eye out for intruders to their little party.

"What's that?" he pointed toward a square with a "GH" written in it.

"Guard House," the man said quickly.

Geoff noted the guard posts all over the estate, and the layout of the three floor mansion in the middle.

"Here. That's it," the guard thrust the map and the pen back to Geoff. "Can I please go now?"

"Who on earth do you think I am? You really think I'm just gonna let you go back there and tell the world what you just did for me? I don't think so."

"I promise I won't tell anyone. Please! I promise!"

"Like I could trust you. By the way, thanks for outfitting this weapon with a silencer."

Geoff Baker aimed the gun at the guard's head and pulled the trigger, killing him instantly and quietly.

"Hmmm... too bad I never did catch your name. Oh well."

Geoff put the gun back into the guard's hand, glad he always wore leather gloves while on the job so his fingerprints wouldn't show up. He then grabbed the map and the pen and went back to his rental. When he got back inside he found his cell phone ringing.

"Yes?" he answered.

"What do you think you're doing?" Tony Bigg's voice came over the line in a deep voice, elongating his words. He was pissed. He never had anything good to say when he spoke like this. With his one question he had Geoff on edge as the assassin pulled out onto the road and left the dead guard behind.

"I'm doing my best, but Slick, is just as his name implies. Don't worry, boss, I've got a plan in motion that even he won't be able to get out of. He'll be dead within the week. I promise."

"He'd better be. I'm getting a lot of attention from the cops. I don't like this, I want it all over with. Now."

"My informant at the lab promises me he's taking care of things, that they haven't figured anything out yet."

"Well, you tell him he'd better keep doing a good job because for sure his life won't be worth much if he's not living. Understood?"

"Well guys, I hate to be the one to break up the party but it's time for me to head back to LA."

Nick looked up from the evidence on the table in front of him to see Detective Omar following Brass into the room.

"You're leaving us, so soon?" Nick realized he sounded a little sad when he hadn't meant to at all. The case and everything going on with Greg were really draining him.

"Well, with Winters dead, there's not much more I can do here. This case has taken on a life of it's own, and it's more yours than mine. No one else has ties to LA, except for him."

"Right, right. Well, hey, good luck on the job, and maybe I'll see you again some time."

The LA detective smiled. "Thanks, and hopefully it'll be under better terms. Say, where's Greg? I haven't seen him in a while. I thought you two were working the case together."

"The whole team is now, but he hasn't been feeling well so he's been staying in the lab most of the time going over the old evidence."

"Alright, well, say hi for me and tell him I hope he feels better."

"Sure thing."

"And Brass, you let me know how the case goes."

"You got it."

Once the cop was gone Brass turned to Nick. "I thought this was going in one direction, but now I'm thinking it's going somewhere else."

"You got something new for me?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, actually I do. I thought I knew one of the recently dead guys... you know, from those club shoot outs."

"Oh, yeah?"

Brass nodded. "Turns out I was right. Lance Danes works for Slick Willson."

Nick's eyes widened. "Slick... Willson? The top crime boss in Vegas?"

"You got it. So does all the other dead guys that have been piling up recently."

"Shit. So, what does that mean?"

"It feels like this is a gang turf war, but no one's been killed on The Devil's side."

"At least not yet," Nick surmised. "But that doesn't give reason to the other killings."

"I wonder what The Devil's got up his sleeve?" another voice popped up in the doorway.

Both men turned to see David Hodges standing there for a brief moment before he walked further into the room.

"It looks to me like Tony Biggs has plans to take over the city. All he has to do is take Slick out, and it's his. You know that."

The cop and the CSI stared at the trace tech.

"Well, at least, that's the way it seems to me. So, tell me what you've got. I can maybe help you out."

Nick shook his head to clear it. "Hodges, you're not on this case unless I bring you samples. And I have no samples for you. So, why are you here?"

"I want to help, is all. You know, Grissom lets me help sometimes, and I do good work. I've broken a few cases before. So, who are we looking at for suspects? How many bullet casings have we found at the scenes?"

"Hodges, you really don't know what you're talking about," Brass broke in.

"I know you found tire treads at the first scene with Winters. What kind of car did they belong to?"

"Undetermined," Nick answered with a sigh. He brightened up when he saw Wendy walking down the hall. He called her in. "Wendy, would you please escort Hodges back to his lab?" he nearly begged her.

"Sure thing," she said with an almost evil grin as she grabbed hold of the trace tech's arm and dragged him out of the room. "By the way, I saw Greg not too long ago and he didn't look too hot," she informed Nick.

"I know. He hasn't been feeling well. I told him to stay home, but he hates taking sick days."

Greg lay in bed, still in the guest room, on his side and curled up into a ball. He wasn't experiencing any twinges of pain at the moment but his stomach had been constantly queasy and still was. Now, when he got home the first thing he did was grab a quick shower so he could get into bed sooner. He was hoping every time that he could sleep it off and wake up feeling better. It hadn't worked yet.

The sound of his cell phone ringing on the nightstand jarred him out of his thoughts.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end was deep and scared Greg to his core as it spoke. "We know who you are," the person said. "One slip up and your precious hubby is dead."

The line went dead.

Greg slowly removed the phone from his ear and snapped it shut, putting it back on the nightstand. Who? He couldn't even finish his thoughts properly. Why? What had he done?

He jumped a mile out of bed when the house phone rang. He stilled himself, and listened intently as Nick walked down the hall to answer the phone. Was it the same person? Were they going to warn Nick? What were they going to say? Greg didn't even know what he'd done to get such a warning. He didn't want this to tear them apart more than they already were.

"Sanders-Stokes Residence," he heard Nick answer. "Oh, hi Mom." Greg let out a huge breath of air in relief. "Yeah, we're doing ok. How's everyone out at the ranch?"

Greg calmed himself down by listening to Nick's voice. He loved that voice. Nick had always been able to work wonders on him just by talking to him. He remembered his first time dumpster diving. He'd been on a case with Nick, and being in the large dumpster had unnerved him because he couldn't see over the edge. He felt like he was alone, so he'd asked Nick to talk to him while he processed the rest of the scene. Just hearing Nick's voice going over evidence had calmed him right down and mellowed him out.

"Jenny had the baby? That's great! Tell her she needs to send us some pictures."

But tonight, while he had managed to calm down a little, his stomach wouldn't let him forget anything going on in their lives.

"Oh, yeah, about that...I'm really sorry Mom, but I don't think we'll be able to make it... I know, I know... I know Mom. But it looks like this case is gonna blow right through Christmas. It's turning into our biggest case yet and the bodies aren't done piling up."

Greg heard what Nick was saying out loud to his mother, but he also heard what his tone of voice was saying, the part his mother wouldn't get. Nick knew it was more than just the case that was going to keep them from going to Texas this year. His heart broke, thinking about how much Nick sacrificed for him sometimes. He wished it didn't have to be so. When Nick got off the phone he'd go tell him that they'd make it down there. And he'd talk to Grissom about it tomorrow.

The house was suddenly silent and Greg began to panic because he hadn't heard Nick hang up. Footsteps came down the hall and he was reminded that his gun was back in his locker at work. He lay frozen in bed, kicking himself for acting this way. He'd grown up a lot since the beating, he knew how to handle himself. The phone call was what had him on edge. He didn't know who it had been or why they'd called. He felt like he had no control over the situation, whatever it was.

His door was bumped open and he felt relief wash over him again when he saw Nick in the doorway with a tray in his hands.

"Hey, G. I made you some chicken noodle soup and some tea."

"Oh, Nicky, you shouldn't have."

"I want you to feel better."

Greg sighed. "I know, me too. But I'm really not hungry. I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Nick set the tray on the nightstand before he kicked his shoes off and joined Greg under the covers, wrapping his arms around him, holding him close. Feeling Nick right behind him, he realized just how much he missed Nick and hated sleeping alone. His husband wasn't saying anything just doing the simple act of holding him. It made him hate himself that much more.

He knew he was hurting Nick just as much as he was hurting himself by staying away from him and not resolving the argument. He wasn't even supposed to be married to the wonderful man he loved so much, never mind having his job as CSI. He knew he'd become the ghost of his former self lately, and he knew he had to change that. He wasn't supposed to be in this beautiful relationship, so to let it go was just wrong. He had to turn things around. And the sooner the better.

He turned over in Nick's arms to face his husband. "I'm sorry, Nicky. For all this. I never meant for it to happen and to get so out of control."

"It's ok, baby. I just want to understand what's going on, that's all. And I'm sorry too. I should never have said what I did. I know it took me a long time to tell you what happened when I was a kid. I don't know what made me think it would take you less time, or that you even had to tell me to begin with."

"Don't worry about it. I'm gonna talk to Grissom tonight and get our Christmas time off scheduled so we can have something to tell Mom."

"Don't bother. I don't want to go to Texas anymore."

"What do you mean?" Greg was shocked. Every year Nick was always exited to go to Texas, to give Greg the family time he'd missed growing up. But it was more than that too. He'd always loved going because he missed seeing his family the rest of the year.

"G, I've spent more Christmases with my family than I have with you. This year, I want it to be just you and me for once. We don't get enough alone time together. I want to take the day and relax with you and do whatever you want to do."

"Nicky, it's not my birthday and you miss your family," Greg reasoned, even when he saw the love shining in his favorite brown eyes.

"I can handle one year apart from them. It's you I can't stand to be apart from. And I already talked to Griss. We have the day off, unless a huge massacre occurs. That was the agreement."

Greg was speechless. Nick was more selfless than he'd ever believed and it touched his heart.

"Thank you, Nicky. I'd be glad to spend the day with you."

Nick smiled into a deep kiss that Greg accepted readily, as he realized his stomach had stopped feeling queasy.

"We know who you are. One slip up and your precious hubby is dead," the words came back to him in a flash.

He froze, mid-kiss, as a twinge filled his stomach and shudders ran through his body. Nick pulled away and looked at him, concern filling his eyes, as his hand rested on Greg's side where most of the shudders had occurred.

"G?"

Greg swallowed hard and let the pain pass through him before he spoke.

"I'm ok."

"I felt that. Are you sure? I'm really getting worried about you."

"No, I'm fine, really."

Greg relaxed again, accepting that the queasy feeling just wasn't going to go away as it came back after the pain was gone.

"We know who you are. One slip up and your precious hubby is dead."

"Can you humor me, Nicky?"

"What do you want?"

"Can you promise me next time there's a crime scene you won't go anywhere without a cop. In fact, make it any crime scene after this. Please?"

Nick laughed a little. "G, I was a cop once, remember?"

"I know. But still. Please?"

"What's this all about? You don't think I'm safe out there? You've got the same job."

"Just a feeling," Greg lied, kicking himself for not wanting to tell Nick the truth.

He leaned in and gave Nick a quick kiss. "I love you so much and we're working such a high profile case that's getting out of control and Griss put you in charge of it. Could you just please humor me and promise to make sure you're safe?"

"Sure, baby. I'll do whatever you want. Just cause I love you so much too."

Greg burrowed his head into Nick's chest and enjoyed the feel of his husband's arms tightening around him, knowing that right then, Nick was safe. They were both safe, and they were together, the one thing he'd always wanted in the whole world. Nick gave a kiss to the top of his head and he sighed contentedly.