Chapter Seven
The following Monday Ecklie had never seen Grissom as furious as he was now in his office.
"What's the meaning of this? I've filled the position," Grissom's fist slammed the top of Ecklie's desk where he'd just tossed Ecklie's email print out from ten minutes earlier.
"You said that Ms. King couldn't start for two weeks. We need an experienced CSI on your team now. Riley Adams comes highly recommended and is a level 2 CSI. She's a former police officer which adds to her skill set. I went over you and offered her the same position. She starts on your team tonight and is in orientation right now," Ecklie shrugged.
"I gave Iris my word she has a job to come to. She's already in the process of moving here. You had no right to go around me," Grissom countered angrily.
"Uh, Gil, I had no right. I'm now the undersheriff and still your boss, remember? It's my judgment call to make and I think you need the help now not later. Ms. King was on swing shift in Dallas, right? Let her start as a part-timer on swing shift, Rich Bailey's still got that position open," Ecklie replied with a dismissive wave.
His teeth grinding together, Grissom was doing his level best not to consider putting ground up meal worms in Ecklie's personal coffee mix kept in a canister on the back bar in his office so that Conrad's next cup would be memorable for its occult ingredient. "I gave her a full time job not a part-time one! She needs to be able to make a living."
"I'll let you handle telling her she has a part-time position to come to. Tell her it was due to budget. She can always change her mind and stay in Dallas. End of discussion…you deal with it," Conrad said and leaned comfortably back in his chair.
"You've left me in a predicament not of my making. You're like Teflon, Conrad, nothing sticks but I'll be happy to tell you what it smells like while it hits the fan," Grissom replied tersely but had the last word before he strode out.
Nick's eyebrows rose in alarm as Grissom explained what had just happened in Ecklie's office. "Can that a-hole get away with that? I mean you've already told the team about Iris coming on board. I saw a fresh face in the vending machine area with a CSI ID badge, pretty cute, so I wonder if that's the new hire."
"Probably. Her name's Riley Adams and she'll start tonight with us. Look, Undersheriff Ecklie thinks more of himself than ever these days, but what to do about Iris. My word is my bond," Grissom pondered over folded hands.
"I can call her," Nick offered.
"No, that's my cross to bear," Grissom said glumly. "No time is a good time either with this kind of news but at least Rich'll be thrilled to get his spot filled."
"Iris will take this in stride, boss, you'll see," Nick gave Grissom a consoling arm punch before he left.
"Yeah, Nicky, I hope you're right," Grissom sighed and began scanning his cell phone contacts for Iris' mobile number.
Iris' day was going great as she drove west on US Highway 93 and had just crossed the Nevada state line. Her Excursion was towing the 2-horse trailer without complaint, Cyrano and Durante each had a head poked out a window with long ears flapping in the breeze. Kyrie was in air conditioned comfort in the trailer. Her furniture had already been shipped ahead by the moving company. Her excitement had grown with each mile as she traveled into what was for her something of an unknown. Her cell phone rang to the ring tone of "Bugs" by Pearl Jam and Iris smiled to be able to speak to her new boss.
"Hello, Doctor Grissom, you're ears must've been burning," Iris laughed while putting the phone into its hands-free cradle.
"Remember, Iris, its Grissom or Griss," she heard the masculine chuckle.
"Well, Griss, I just passed into Nevada and I should be in Vegas in no time," Iris clarified how she addressed him.
"Iris, there's been a change in events here," Grissom said and she could hear the discomfort in his voice.
"Wait a tick," Iris bumped up the phone's volume and pressed her power window controls so she could hear Grissom in full. She also rapped out be still commands to quiet Cyrano's and Durante's whines of protest at the raising windows. "That's better. Okay, Griss, what happened?"
"Before I go on what did you just say? It didn't sound like English?" Grissom's curiosity was piqued.
"Oh, Navajo," Iris replied matter-of-factly.
Grissom found his curiosity not sated but only intensified before he went on to tell her the details of Ecklie's circumvention and hire of Riley Adams to his team. "So this leaves me with an unpleasant dilemma, Iris, because I gave you my word you have a job waiting for you. If it's your wish to return to Dallas, I'll understand your decision and no hard feelings. I truly dislike being between a rock and a hard place."
"Well, Griss, it's like this. I've got no wish to return to Dallas. I do have a job to come to even though it's a different shift, so perhaps when you're short-handed you can consider requesting me to help out. I've got my eye on a house and a realtor ready to show me the place. It'll all be good so no worries," Iris stated in a no nonsense way.
Grissom sat back in his chair marveling at her optimism and that she wasn't PO'd about the situation but rather making the best of it. "Iris, I think I understand now why Nicky calls you quiet glue. Call me when you get situated and ready to come in for orientation."
"You got it and if you don't mind I'll still call you boss somehow even though I'm officially under Rich Bailey's command because it was you that hired me," Iris said before they hung up with each other.
Grissom found himself smiling at the phone for several moments that his continued impression of Iris was indeed going to prove to his instincts right in hiring her.
Iris made the most of the next few days before her day of orientation came. In spite of Nick's protests, she had opted to stay at a Hilton Homewood Suites not far from the house she had just purchased. The date to close would be in the next two weeks. Iris was paying for the house in cash, her savings account taking a major hit, but the price was a bargain for what the house would have usually sold for there let alone back in the Dallas area. The economic downturn was particularly acute in this part of the country but she still felt the home to be a good investment opportunity though needing some minor cosmetic repairs. Nick had helped her get Kyrie settled at the stable where other members of the Sheriff's Mounted Posse that he was a member of kept their horses. Iris' membership application of transfer was being processed but it had been approved for Kyrie to be boarded there. Cyrano and Durante would stay with Nick until Iris got the house ready to move into. As promised, she had called Grissom about her progress and he'd told her what day to be at the crime lab and where to report for orientation.
Before heading to the LVMPD, she was driving on another trip of exploration to familiarize herself with the vicinity between her home to be and work. The sign caught her eye and she let go a soft whistle as she made a sharp turn into the parking lot. The Life Victorious Church was a modest-sized main building connecting to three other smaller buildings. There was only a minivan to indicate someone might be there. Iris parked the Excursion and went to the front door of the large building. She pulled on the glass door's handle and found it to be open as she entered the foyer. The doors leading to other hallways she found to be locked but two sets of large doors were open and the sounds of a hammer. Walking through she found herself entering the sanctuary and saw a woman with a nail in her mouth as she busily hammered at the pulpit. The woman had her back to her and couldn't have heard her come in. Iris didn't want to startle her.
"Excuse me, your doors were open," Iris finally announced herself when the woman's hammering had ceased.
The woman turned to face Iris while she pulled the nail out of her mouth. She was dark haired with something of an olive complexion. Her mouth quirked at Iris before she laughed in reply, "I'd of had more doors open but being alone here isn't smart even with it being a church. I didn't hear the door alarm go off with the racket I was making. I'm the pastor here. Mel's the name."
"Nice to meet you, Mel, I'm Iris and just moved here from Texas," Iris shook hands with the lady pastor.
"Welcome to Vegas, Iris, although more people are leaving than moving here right now," Mel lamented with a sigh.
"I'm planning to stay here in spite of the economy. I happen to be looking for a church to check out. Your church's name was similar to the one I used to go. I was active in different areas there. Can you tell me about yours?" Iris asked while glancing up at the stained glass windows.
"Oh, this used to be a Methodist church but we're a nondenominational congregation. I hope to have a full choir someday," Mel indicated with a wave toward where there was a drum set, guitars, bass and three keyboards.
Iris left with the promise that she would attend a future service there and liked the homey feeling about the church and its young pastor. She felt this was a place she could volunteer in several areas.
Still a ways from the buildings that housed the LVMPD and the crime lab, Iris was in a mood to hear music and put a USB stick of tunes into her car stereo to play. She'd already gone through resetting the radio to the Vegas stations. She hit shuffle and saw the display of the song title to play. For a moment she debated hearing it and thought what the heck let it go as Michael Buble sang "Haven't Met You Yet."
Iris was laughing at the irony of this song and the questions it raised. She hadn't met whoever it could be yet and today was the first day of her new job. What if she met him and didn't know it? What if he worked there? What if he was the first man she saw there? Ah, she mused, those what ifs could be endless so she just gave in and sang a happy duet with Michael.
"I'm not surprised, not everything lasts/I've broken my heart so many times, I stopped keeping track/Talk myself in, I talk myself out/I get all worked up, then I let myself down/I tried so very hard not to lose it/I came up with a million excuses I thought, I thought of every possibility/And I know someday that it'll all turn out
You'll make me work, so we can work to work it out/And I promise you, kid, that I give so much more than I get/I just haven't met you yet/I might have to wait, I'll never give up/I guess it's half timing, and the other half's luck/Wherever you are, whenever it's right/You'll come out of nowhere and into my life/And I know that we can be so amazing/And, baby, your love is gonna change me/And now I can see every possibility/And somehow I know that it'll all turn out/You'll make me work, so we can work to work it out/And I promise you, kid, I give so much more than I get/I just haven't met you yet/They say all's fair in love and war/But I won't need to fight it/We'll get it right and we'll be united. "
Pulling into the parking lot now of the LVPMD, she parked the Excursion and delicately maneuvered it between a Lexus SUV and a pimped out hoopty Impala that the owner had taken great pains to trick up. With care, she opened her driver's door so it wouldn't make contact with the Impala's elaborate paint job. "Let me breathe in confidence and breathe out confusion," she said to herself before striding into the building and to what the future held in store.
Jim Brass' mood was going further south by the minute. He'd been questioning a male suspect going through methamphetamine withdrawal. The outstanding citizen, he thought sarcastically, had attempted to flee a burning motel room serving as a meth lab which had exploded and wherein his partner in crime had been barbequed but also had been shot. To top it off, the fool had made a new drive-thru in the rundown motel's lobby with his Jeep. The jittery man had thrown up on Brass just when the questioning was getting productive, the detective's suit jacket taking the brunt of the malodorous liquid assault. To add to his morning he was starting to have sniffles and coughing, and he stubbornly dismissed it as a cold in spite of the flu that was making the rounds throughout the LVPD. He would remain unaffected he vowed, not like how sick he'd gotten a few years back.
Muttering under his breath, Jim had done his best to clean up in the men's room where Gil was doing what he called office paper work. Brass was still using soapy paper towels to blot his jacket when Gil joined him at the sinks.
"What happened to you?" Grissom asked, his nose catching the smell Brass still couldn't get out.
"Got puked on by that slime in the meth lab explosion with the crispy critter partner," Jim replied as he continued to scrub the jacket.
"Better use cold water, Jim, it's more effective until you can get your jacket cleaned," Grissom recommended. "I gotta go…new CSI starting today."
"You got Riley already so who's the new meat?" Brass stopped his laundering efforts.
"Iris starts on swing but Rich's out sick today, so I'm showing her around," Grissom replied.
"Yeah…introduce me some time…don't even know what she looks like," Brass grunted before resuming his scrubbing.
"Sure," Grissom said before leaving.
"Dammit, this jacket'll never be right again," Brass finally admitted and put the sodden clothing in a trash bag one of the janitors had given him. "This day's going from bad to worse."
The orientation class was over with and Iris had been met by Grissom at the elevators that lead to the crime lab. He showed her the locker area and where her locker had been assigned, where she stowed her purse and committed the lock combination to memory.
"After I show you around to refresh your memory of the layout and introduce you to lab personnel, I'm giving you a series of case files to look over so you can familiarize yourself with how ours are organized. There's going to be variety to give you a taste of Vegas," Grissom said as they went through the halls.
"Buffet's the best," Iris agreed.
Going throughout the lab, Grissom reintroduced her to the lab rats: Hodges; Wendy; Mandy; Archie; Henry. Their trip ended in the break room where Grissom pointed to a stack of case files. "When you're done, just return them to the records department. Bon appétit!"
Iris wasted no time and dug in, making copious notes as she went through the each case. Her diligence caused her to lose track of time and her cell phone chirped to indicate a text message. She saw it was Nick.
"What U up 2?" (N)
"Going thru cases boss left me." (I)
"When done text me. Let's get lunch!" (N)
"K" (I)
Her last case was done several minutes later and she made sure the stack of files was in the exact order Grissom had left it in. She loaded herself up and headed down the hallway.
Brass was headed back to his office after taking his jacket to the cleaners he used near work. He'd just pulled his keys out and was rounding the corner, never seeing the other who was also making the same turn concurrently. Case folders went flying as Jim collided with the mystery person, struggling to keep his own balance, but the ensuing tangle of arms and legs made that impossible as they both fell.
Iris felt the wind knocked out of her as a heavier body landed on her, pinning her hips and splaying her legs apart. Brass also was breathless for the same reason as they lay there several moments. A swift mutual appraisal took place.
Brass: Subject in custody is a Caucasian female, age mid to late forties, short brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses, lotta freckles, brown eyes with amber highlights, kind of upturned nose, faint laugh lines about mouth, feels bosomy and soft to land on, smells nice, height pending. Uh oh, we're in the horizontal bop position but she fits pretty good here!
Iris: Older Caucasian male with look and physique somewhere between a bear and a bulldog; Marine cut short brown hair, fast-receding hairline; keenly observant piercing blue eyes but careworn to match jowls and below chin wattle; facial lines that seem to have seen its share of sad times. Iris, woman, mental regroup! Good Lord, he's got you in the missionary position and you don't seem to mind. He has a good face, an honest face, a face you like right away. Oy vey, what a way to meet!
A crowd was gathering about them including Nick and Greg.
"Iris, that's a helluva way to meet the Brass man," Nick crowed, unknowingly echoing Iris' very thoughts, while he moved to help Brass up while Greg did the same for Iris.
"So you're Detective Jim Brass," Iris said while scrambling to her feet.
"The one and only but, uh, women usually like it on top with me," Jim wisecracked. "Unique method of introduction I'll say."
"Well, in that case, the next time I'll be sure to have my whip and spurs with me," Iris replied tartly.
"Yeah and don't forget the whipped cream! She's quick with the comeback and sorta spunky," Brass said with an approving grin before a sudden dry cough occurred. Iris observed he brought out a monogrammed handkerchief to blow his nose into.
Grissom and Catherine now joined the crowd after hearing the commotion from their offices. Riley Adams had gone home early after finishing a breaking-and-enter case.
Greg now spontaneously dropped to one knee to seize one of Iris' hands as he serenaded her: "And I'd give up forever to touch you/Cause I know that you feel me somehow/You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be/And I don't want to go home right now/And all I can taste is this moment/And all I can breathe is your life/Cause sooner or later it's over/I just don't want to miss you tonight/And I don't want the world to see me/Cause I don't think that they'd understand/When everything's made to be broken/I just want you to know who I am/And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming/Or the moment of truth in your lies/When everything seems like the movies/Yeah you bleed just to know your alive/I just want you to know who I am."
"Name that tune," Nick challenged.
"It's "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls," she replied automatically. "Greg, you promised me when I was here last time you wouldn't do that!"
Applause rewarded Greg's antics which no one minded because once in a while he would revert back to the Greg of old who'd been the lab's class clown.
A new commotion was heard down the other end of the hall by Ecklie's office as a loud male voice yelled, "The mayor promised you'd provide me a crime investigation and I don't want some damn state veterinarian overseeing it. I want your best people on it now! Do I have to call my friend, your state's governor back?"
A tall man who could've been Colonel Sanders' twin in an expensive Armani suite with bolo tie came striding out of Ecklie's office with a cane, followed by the undersheriff himself who was trying to do damage control and another man more casually dressed in jeans and a pullover shirt.
"Who the hell ordered chicken?" Brass pointed at the creamy white attired figure with a sarcastic snort while they all looked on.
"Where's this so-called crime team you were boasting about, Ecklie? Who here knows anything about horses?" the man bellowed as he spied the CSI team with a baleful glare.
"This is Gil Grissom, one of our CSI team supervisors, nationally known…"Ecklie started to say and gestured toward Grissom with a silent plea for help.
"This bunch wouldn't know horse apples about the poll to the pastern, let alone the breeds, the greatest being Thoroughbreds!" the man interrupted Ecklie with a dismissive sneer aimed at Grissom that boasted a silent challenge as well.
Iris felt her cheeks burn with an angry flush as she stepped defensively in front of Grissom and Brass. Brass tried to stop her not knowing who this clown was but Grissom stayed his hand. There was a gleam in his eye that Brass saw and he stayed neutral…for the moment. She strode directly up to the other man who seemed to tower over her in their height difference.
She wasn't intimidated in the least as she responded to his challenge. "Retired Army Colonel Gavin Quinn is well-known in horse racing circles for the winners his Gates to Eden Thoroughbred Farm in Kentucky has produced. Your 3-year-old colt "Take A Chance on Me" won two of three races for last year's Triple Crown. The Thoroughbred originated in England in the 17th and 18th centuries from select breeding of foundation mares of native English or Oriental stock to three stallions imported from the Middle East. These stallions were the Darley Arabian, the Byerley Turk and the Godolphin Arabian. I prefer the possible story of the Godolphin Arabian the most, personally. The Thoroughbred breed went on to infuse other breeds in England and then America as well as to launch new ones here such as the Standardbred and Morgan. Finally, the poll is just behind the horse's forehead and the pastern is above the coronet of the hoof. And horse apples are what you're full of!"
Colonel Gavin Quinn gave Iris a long stare before his shoulders began to shake in amusement and a deep booming laugh erupted. "You're a little spitfire aintcha?"
Iris now believed she had severely overstepped herself not only in front of Grissom but also Ecklie and even Brass who she'd met in such an unorthodox way just a few minutes before. She stepped back to be sure she was just behind Grissom and now by Nick. "Did I blow it or what?" she whispered unhappily.
"Naw, lets see what happens," Nick whispered back.
"Well, it seems there's horse sense to be found here, Ecklie, so do I get what I'm asking for?" Colonel Quinn asked Ecklie who crooked a finger at Grissom.
"No, I want the little spitfire to handle this," Gavin shook his head.
"She's brand new here, Colonel, she can work the, uh, case with Gil supervising her," Ecklie protested.
"Iris can check with me if she has any questions," Grissom offered, knowing Ecklie couldn't fight this.
"Alright, the little lady gets the chance to prove this police department crime lab's worth its reputation," Colonel Quinn agreed and then turned to Ecklie. "She needs to get there now and I'll have my trainer here checking on things, Mr. Undersheriff, so give her the details of her assignment."
Iris glanced at the other man who had accompanied the colonel and who remained wordless even now. The colonel walked past Ecklie after giving his orders toward the elevators followed by the silent trainer.
After they had left, Ecklie said tersely, "Gil, bring your new recruit to my office."
Iris gulped nervously but Grissom reassured her, "His bark is worse than his bite."
Brass decided to give the newbie a verbal jab, "Hiyo, Silver, away."
She shot him a withering look as she went with Grissom to Ecklie's office.
Nick turned to go also but Brass caught his arm. "Think she can hold her own with Ecklie?"
"It's not Ecklie I'd worry about, Jim, but you," Nick said.
"Whaddya mean me? She's harmless," Brass jeered dismissively.
"I know how you like to put new CSI's through their paces sometimes and I'm just saying Iris'll surprise you so just be ready," Nick cautioned.
"My first impression of her is that she's not cut out to be a CSI, Nick. I see her more like doing soccer mom or Susie Homemaker stuff," Brass shrugged.
"She's heard that before, Brass man, when she decided to go to college to become a CSI. Iris worked her butt off to make it happen and succeeded, graduating with honors. That gal's a fighter and survivor in more ways than one," Nick pointed out with something of a cryptic air.
"Survivor? Whatever," Jim said but Nick found his tone patronizing. "See you tonight at shift, Stokes."
A now livid Conrad Ecklie straightened his suit jacket, just like the way Captain Picard did in Star Trek: The Next Generation Iris thought, before he sat down in his office chair. "Sit down," he said to Grissom and Iris in a tight voice.
"Ms. King, you made me look like a gibbering idiot in front of a high roller like the colonel but at the same time you did save face for us. For that I'm going to cut you a break since it's your first day here but don't think that scores points with me," Ecklie maintained with a pointing finger.
"I'm not out to score points with you, sir, and it was not my intention to put you in a bad light. It got my Irish up, so to speak, and for that I apologize," Iris said contritely.
"Conrad, how could it have gone if someone like Iris wasn't there at the time? I know generalities about equines, as does Nick, and I don't subscribe to coincidence, but she was an ace up our sleeve at that moment," Grissom said in an effort to placate Ecklie also.
"Point taken so here's the assignment, Ms. King. The colonel had one of his prize stallions, The Winner Takes It All, brought here to Vegas to breed with one of our illustrious governor's Thoroughbred mares. The stallion was found dead in its stall at the governor's ranch just north of the city. The colonel insists the stallion was in perfect health prior to arriving to the stable three days ago. He believes the horse somehow met with foul play and is demanding a murder investigation. My efforts to dissuade him and steer him to letting a state veterinarian do this were in vain as you heard. The colonel didn't hesitate in playing his trump cards of his association with the governor and mayor," Ecklie outlined and his body language still showed he was quite upset. "He also demanded that a homicide detective accompany the CSI who got the assignment."
"If I could get the address I've got a GPS in my Excursion and I'll be on my way. Can you tell which homicide detective will meet me there?" Iris got out her notepad to get the address.
Ecklie gazed at Iris for several moments and she could tell she was being scrutinized. Her face remained neutral during Ecklie's appraising stare. With something of a smirk, Ecklie then said, "I think Detective Brass would be the ideal man for this case. I'll call him to join you."
Iris sucked in a breath of surprise, the man she'd just met lying on top of her? Oh that was great, just great, a swell start to a working relationship!
Grissom tried to intervene on behalf of Brass. "Uh, Conrad, what about Detective Sam Vega? Jim's on his way home and last night was busy enough for him."
"I'll handle this part of assigning since the colonel relieved me of the other. Ms. King, you'll report to Gil throughout your investigation and Detective Brass will handle the, uh, would it be horsicide I suppose we'll have to call it. Fly away now, Ms. King, fly, fly, fly," Ecklie said with a forced smile reminding Iris exactly of Hannibal Lector in Silence of the Lambs.
As they left the office, Iris told Grissom just that and it was all he could do not to break out in laughter as they went on to his office. Before she left his office to go to the ranch, she astounded Grissom when she told him she had a secret way to acknowledge him as her true boss. With ever-present curiosity, he told her to show him and she went on to do sign language by tapping her right hand with a closed number 4 position, the letter B in signing, to her right shoulder.
"Where did you learn to sign?" Grissom asked because Iris couldn't have known about his mother or the hereditary condition of otosclerosis that he had had to deal with personally.
"When my grandmother lost her ability to speak due to progressive strokes, I learned to sign and then taught her. That was before the strokes eventually robbed her of the use of her hands," Iris said softly while Grissom saw sad memories cloud her eyes.
"I think rob is a good way to term that, Iris, you better get going," Grissom told her as his estimation of her went up another notch.