Thank you for the reviews that I finally got author dances for joy then sits back down slowly because her entire web design class is staring at her. Thank you zcst4eva for pointing something out to me. Because I already started, though, I have to continue with what I did in this chapter when I do Sophia and Jennifer's POV. I also received a pm about the presence of David Hodges like I promised earlier. We'll he's coming up soon. Just be patient and I shall deliver the master to you. lol
Sophia Curtis and Jennifer Castillo parked their LVPD Denali behind the squad car and leapt out in front of Catherine's house.
"Jennifer," Sophia said when she reached her on the other side of the vehicle, "You are going to process the scene. It's obvious what happened here, but we still need to conduct a thorough investigation."
"First the suicide in the lawn, then the broken window."
"And the living room when Catherine and I have gone. I'll talk to her then go with her to the hospital."
Jennifer made a questioning look. "Why does someone have to go with her?"
"They don't. Catherine and I used to work the same shift. We're friends. I just want to make sure she and Lindsay are okay."
Jennifer nodded in understanding. "That's good. Well, I'll get busy."
As Sophia went in the direction of the house, Jennifer got to work on the scene. She photographed the body from several angles and collected the gun and shell casing. She looked from her position to the living room window and a trajectory diagram popped into her mind. She was distracted when she saw the stretcher leave to house. She looked back in the window and could see Catherine pacing around. Jennifer couldn't even imagine what Catherine was going through, and she didn't want to. Her own daughter Zoë was five and her son Louis was eight, and she knew she would just die if anything happened to either of her children. She looked to the sky and said a quick prayer for the Willows' and then photographed the shattered window from where she stood.
Back inside the house, Sophia tried to comfort her friend. She got very concerned hearing only one side of a conversation between Catherine and Nick.
"Oh my god, what's happened, is she okay… Damn it Nick you scared the shit out of me…Is she okay? What do you mean you can't find anything out, that's our job…Ok, I'll be there soon. Thank you, Nicky."
"Do you want to go now?" Sophia asked as Catherine hung up the phone. Catherine just nodded. "Okay, you'll go in a squad car.
"Jennifer," Sophia called when they were outside. "Catherine you go and get in the car. I'll only be a moment." A cop walked Catherine to the car. "Jen, I'm ready to take Catherine to the hospital. After you finish processing I want you to get the evidence back to the lab. And remember-"
"-Our motto, always be thorough even if you know what happened."
Sophia smiled. "Yes."
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Catherine burst out of the elevator doors the moment they opened up into the third floor of St. Christopher's Hospital, followed closely by Sophia. Somehow Nick new exactly when they would arrive, because he was waiting for them.
"What's happening here, Nick?" Catherine said immediately when she saw him
"She's in surgery as we speak. If the surgery goes exactly as planned they give her a 95 chance. That's what I know."
"Ah, Mrs. Willows," a doctor behind Nick greeted. He was a tall, skinny man with graying red hair and a goatee. "I'm Dr. Rosenfield."
"What's going on with my daughter?"
"Well, what your friend said is all true, but I suppose you want details?"
"Yes," Catherine confirmed, "All the details you know."
"As you wish. We should go someplace quieter."
In a deserted ER waiting room, Rosenfield gave Catherine the details.
"When she was shot," he began, "The bullet penetrated the frontal bone of the skull just above the right orbital cavity. The unusual thing about this bullet is that it's traveling and is presently at rest between the right temporal bone and that region of the brain. In laymen's terms-"
"-She got hit above the right eye and the bullet is now floating around in her head between her brain and her skull."
"Yes, meaning the bullet never actually penetrated the brain. It's just causing tremendous amount of pressure."
Catherine sighed and looked at the ceiling as though it contained the answer to the universe. "Nick said you give her 95?"
"Yes. But between you and me Mrs. Willows, I believe the only reason we're missing five percentage points is because ER doctors don't like giving perfect scores."
"So you think she'll make it."
Dr. Rosenfield smiled. "That is given that the surgery goes flawlessly. Anything could happen, but I promise we have our best surgeons putting forth their best effort for you daughter."
"St. Christopher's has the best neurological surgical unit in Nevada."
The string bean doctor chuckled. "If Lindsay survives, you should do our commercials."
Catherine cocked one eyebrow. "Not interested, Doc. But thanks for your help."
Nick was waiting for Catherine in the hall.
"I already called everyone for you." When she didn't say anything, he was afraid he did something wrong. "Did you not want me to?"
"No, I mean yes, well…thanks Nick."
"You're welcome" he thanked. "So what did you find out?" he asked eagerly.
"The bullet's floating."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, it hasn't done any major damage and Dr. Rosenfield seems to think she'll make it."
Just then, a doctor came rushing out of surgery up to Dr. Rosenfield.
"Doctor," he said almost frantically, "It's the gunshot wound to the head in surgery-"
"What about her?"
"The bullet floated into and broke a major vain. We've got a massive hemorrhage and we need your help."
Rosenfield followed the other doctor at a running pace. When they burst into the operating room, his stomach turned in thought of what he had just told this girl's mother.
"She's loosing to much blood to fast. She needs a transfusion now or she'll bleed to death."
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In the mind of David Hodges, there should have been music playing in the background like in the movies when someone great does something average. He was thinking something fun and spunky like "Thriller." The cocky, mischievous grin that was almost permanently plastered on his face shone brightly that evening as the graveyard shift trace tech combed his dark hair in the mirror talking to himself. It was the usual Hodges self pep talk that put him in such good (and as some would say, arrogant) spirits most nights. All nights. Hodges was always great, and he told himself that every evening.
"David," he said to the too-handsome reflection, "Do you know why the Las Vegas crime lab is second only to the FBI? Hm? It's because-" he sapped and pointed at the mirror, "- You, it's star laboratory technician, have not made a single technical error in your entire forensic career."
He winked and made an obnoxious "click" sound.
"That, and Grissom's cool."
It was no secret throughout the Las Vegas crime lab that Hodges longed to make Grissom proud. What was a secret was his obsessive hero worship for the man. He'd have had a shrine in his closet to the middle-aged shift supervisor if his pride would allow his room to be anything other then a David domain.
So, if Hodges was to bow to Grissom, everyone else was to bow to Hodges.
It was a little early to go to work yet; barely past five. But Hodges liked to get a head start on the world and take everything by storm.
Interrupting the music in his mind came a call on his cell phone. His ring tone announced in it's own obnoxious way with, "Someone's calling you. Someone's calling you."
"Hello," he answered in his signature perky voice.
"Hodges, I need you to come in early today and help out the day shift tech for a few hours," requested the object of his worship.
"Something major come up, or they-"
Grissom interrupted before Hodges could make any self-glorifying comments. "Yes, something major cam up and it's something you should know about."
"Really?"
"It's about Catherine, David. Something happened to Lindsay."
Yeah, I know I jumped from true and perfect angst to a stupid little introductory Hodges scene, but I though you could use the comic relief.