Chapter Thirteen
Brass was done checking with dispatch and received his first outcall. He wanted to touch base quickly with Grissom before he left and was on his way to Grissom's office when he heard raucous laughter coming from the crime lab break room. He found Catherine, Nick, Greg, Riley, and surprisingly, Iris.
"I missed the punch line, Catherine," Brass framed the doorway.
"Oh, Jim, Iris had us in stitches about a scene from a movie," Catherine was wiping tears from her eyes. Nick and Greg were chuckling, and even Riley was still occasionally giggling.
"Well, can you do an encore?" Brass gave Iris an appraising squint.
"Sure. Jake and Sarah go back to her house and are passionately kissing and headed to bed. To their dismay, it's realized they are sans condom. Jake can't understand why she's not prepared for this kind of moment, but Sarah retorts there aren't moments like this for her. They hop in a car and are now on a mission frantically driving through town to buy one. One store is closed and the next one is out. Jake has the theory that everyone in the city is having sex on the same night but they will not be denied. All is not lost when they finally locate a store and he can get some. However, opportunity's no longer knocking because the mood's passed for Sarah," Iris had verbally been spot on acting like the sexually frustrated couple and pantomimed driving frantically, hitting a brake, etc.
Catherine and the others broke up in fresh laughter at Iris' repeat performance which she'd punctuated with different gestures and voice tones.
"There's a sweet scene though where Sarah says "l don't wanna just do random dating, Carol, l wanna be in love, I wanna wake up next to someone and see them smile. Do the whole Sunday breakfast thing, go out and get the paper, stay in bed together all day." That's how it ought to be," Iris said dreamily.
"Just be sure he pays for the room and breakfast," Catherine snickered.
"Hey, she can take care of the tab just as easily…women's equality," Nick declared.
"Go Dutch," Greg offered as a compromise.
"What chick flick is this?" Jim queried with a sarcastic snort.
"Must Love Dogs…check it out…see you all later," Iris grabbed her backpack purse and brushed by him. Brass gave Catherine a "what did I do" shrug.
"Oh, are you two lovebirds bickering?" Nick said with mushy kissing sounds.
"Nick, where the sun don't shine, huh," Jim pointed at him and strode out of the room.
Brass rubbed at his neck with a frustrated grunt. Lovebirds…with Iris? Just where had she gone off to anyhow? She was nowhere to be seen. Just as well as he changed direction to go to Grissom's office where he wished he would've headed to in the first place.
Grissom looked weary to Jim as he poked his head in. "Got a minute?"
"Sure, what's up?" Grissom beckoned before rubbing at his temples.
"You look like the weight of the world's on your shoulders…Sara?" Jim's scrutiny and ability to read people was uncanny sometimes.
"You know how it is when you're in the middle of work and a thought that shouldn't creeps in," Grissom replied with a faintly wan smile. "We parted badly and more than once I've been thinking my time's done here, especially since Warrick's death."
"Hell, Gil, we all have that issue. God knows I had mine with what happened with Officer Bell a few years back and then taking a bullet from Willie Cutler. I really struggled about was it time to just take an early pension and toss in the shield," Brass sank into a chair with groan. "Take a long break with her and come back when it's the right time for you."
"You ever follow your own advice, Jim, with that cabin of yours?" Grissom asked with a sage look.
"If we had time to take up that discussion over a couple of glasses of JB I would but my first outcall's a 419 with motorcycle tread marks head to toe. The Bandidos and the Down and Dirty gangs aren't playing nice tonight. Let's take a rain check though on commiserating in my afterhours watering hole at a future point," Jim said with a jerk of his thumb in the direction of his office.
"Yeah, we've done that our share of times," Grissom nodded as Brass left. He glanced at a nearby bookcase where a black-and-white photo of he and Sara in a silver antique frame from when they'd taken a rafting trip on the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon. It had been exhilarating like the roller coasters but also to find that Sara willingly roughed it in a tent as they camped by the river. They hadn't been able to keep their hands off each other and being discrete with the other tents near theirs had been a supreme challenge. That sidebar benefit along with being able to observe the river's diverse population of insects in their natural habitat had made for a memorable trip with numerous color and black-and-white pictures to add to his personal photo albums. The ache in his heart was particularly acute tonight as he shuffled the assignment cards together before he headed to the break room.
X X X X X
Monday night two weeks later and Jim was headed to the vending area to answer the call of his sweet tooth. He heard a vending machine being assaulted and a feminine nonverbal castigation of it not cooperating. Jim rounded the corner to gallantly offer assistance only to find Iris doing battle with the vending machine to use a worn out dollar bill. "Come on, you mechanical ninny, this is the only dollar bill I got!"
She stopped when she saw Brass and her eyes narrowed slightly. "Oh, sorry to hold you up, I was just going."
"Allow me, I still know how to be chivalrous," Jim smiled at her as he blocked her way, opened his wallet and put in a crisp dollar bill that the machine accepted with a bright chirpy beep.
Iris punched the choice for a bag of pretzels that Jim bent down and got for her. She placed her worn out dollar bill in his hand that he pushed back at her.
"My treat," he said amiably and gave her the paper currency back.
"No, I won't be in debt to you," Iris countered and stuffed the dollar bill in his suit breast pocket.
"Iris, I'm trying to be nice here," Jim said but his tone was irritated.
"Thanks, I guess this is the closest we'll ever have to breakfast or dinner at work together," she quipped tartly and went past him to disappear in the stream of people going up and down the hall before he could respond.
Jim stared several moments where he'd last seen her and then sighed heavily. He couldn't blame her for being touchy. In the ensuing days since he'd returned to work and she'd gone back to swing there had been the times when their paths had crossed. If he'd been in his office, she had poked her head in as times before to invite him to dinner or breakfast. He'd consistently declined her friendly overtures to join her, knowing that she had likely gone to the trouble of preparing the meal. She'd done a few spreads for the swing shift and Grissom's team, Brass always finding a generous plate sealed in a foil pouch in his office. He'd asked Nick how Iris had been able to get access to his locked office. Come to find out the night janitor had a weak spot for her homemade Thai food. Her persistence to cement their friendship and her originality at getting him a homemade meal caused him to smile. It wasn't necessary but how to tell her. She didn't wear her heart on her sleeve but he wanted to be sure she wasn't sore at him from now till Doomsday.
He decided to drop in on Grissom and found the bespectacled supervisor in his office poring over Catherine's crime scene photos of the case they were working on together and possibly near to solving. "Gil?"
Grissom looked up and to Brass' surprise there seemed to be slightly dark circles under his eyes that reflected a preoccupied look. "You sleeping okay, pal? You look like…how does Iris put it…wreck of the Hesperus…Longfellow poem, right?"
A slight smile relaxed Grissom's face. "I've had some things on my mind. Of course our Iris seems to have rubbed off even on you with that expression."
Jim eased himself into a chair. "Yeah, my ancient degree in history helped dredge up that factoid of the day. So now that we've had a brush with literary culture what's up?"
"We all have our days where the job grinds…it remains my turn," he replied somewhat cryptically. He silently noted Bass made no reference to Iris.
"Yeah, grind's a good way to put it," Jim agreed. "Glad today's payday…full check for all."
"Not everyone," Grissom noted.
"Someone on your team get shorted by accident?" Jim wondered.
"Iris did," Grissom replied.
"She's not on your team though but how could she be shorted when she's salary?" Jim said.
"Her pay took a hit because she doesn't have vacation time accrued yet and can't borrow it until she's here the probationary three months. She's short for the week she was out to help you. Even salary won't compensate that," Grissom clarified.
"I ought to make it up to her somehow," Brass rubbed at his neck. Grissom knew that body language when something bothered his best friend.
"Are you and Iris on good terms?" Grissom asked, taking off his glasses.
"Yeah, as far as I know, why?" Brass returned.
"Just an observation I've seen since you both returned to work," Grissom said.
"We haven't seen much of one another. I mean come on we're graveyard and she's on swing. Has she said something?" Jim was inquisitive but kept it casual.
"She only mentioned her assignments seemed to preclude the times she's able to see any of us and I took that to mean you too," Grissom shrugged.
"Well, I suppose that ties in with Rich's discretion on assignments. The next time she makes a meal for the team, I'll be front and center to partake with you," Jim promised. "I'll see you on shift."
Jim's sudden exit struck Grissom as well as his peculiar response to say something about swing assignments caused Grissom to reach for his desk phone.
Brass had Iris paged via the lab operator and she hadn't responded so that meant she was off premises. Betty, the swing assistant supervisor, was still in her office when he made a discrete inquiry via his cell phone. Iris' case file was finished and she had the rest of the day free until mid afternoon and Betty freely shared with Jim where Iris would be.
X X X X X
Iris' frustration was beyond measure as her departure from the crime lab first led her to go to the stable where she took Kyrie on an hour long trail ride. What would usually help clear her mind didn't, even when she'd also cleaned the stall and restacked hay bales. She showered at the main stable building and decided to head to the Las Vegas Fencing Club to see if the instructor she'd signed up with might have an open slot this morning.
Why had Rich been assigning her to what she'd term "easy" cases since she'd come back to work after seeing Brass through the worst of his pneumonia? Nothing complicated – no homicides – nothing challenging to the skill set of a level 2 CSI. She did her best not to let it weigh on her heart but it did anyhow.
Rene was surprised to hear from her newest student but during their cell phone call confirmed she could have Iris come in for some practice drills. She figured the upcoming amateur match Iris had signed up for had prompted this and could appreciate Iris' zeal to hone her technique. Rene was known to be a rapier wit, proudly accepting the sword pun, and her sarcasm took getting used to. Iris was now accustomed to it. Those that didn't know sometimes got the sharper edge of it and weren't prepared. Iris sometimes thought that only Rene's fencing skills and popularity as an instructor kept her employment assured.
Clanging metal rang throughout the gym as different pairs went through fencing drills or routines the instructors oversaw. Iris had just finished a punishing routine with Rene and pulled off her mask to wipe the sweat from her face and glasses.
"Iris, your energy today is like one of those twenty-somethings over there," Rene laughed as they watched the man and woman sparring nearby. She mopped her face with a towel.
"Oh age is just a state of mind to me anyhow…I don't feel late forties today for sure. I just need to let off steam," Iris allowed a chuckle.
"Does this have anything to do with your bulldog?" Rene queried.
"He's not my bulldog. I should've never told you that nickname. He's someone I've gotten kind of close to at work. I've never implied there was something more going on," Iris huffed at her.
"If you say so, I just think you got used and you won't admit it," Rene insisted and went into an en garde position.
"He's not like that at all," Iris said defensively and pulled down her mask and engaged Rene in an even fiercer drill.
After several minutes of frenetic swordplay, Rene waved Iris off. "Okay, I'll accept he didn't use you and your energetic defense of that point. His honor is restored!"
"He's a friend, Rene, and I just can't have his character sullied like that," Iris said gasping for air herself. Muscles and nerves were sending group protests to her brain and a nice long shower was in order.
"Iris?" a deep masculine voice she knew too well said.
She turned with a controlled effort to hide her surprise to find a casually dressed Jim Brass in dark gray Dockers and a blue-gray polo shirt, chest hairs protruding innocently at the V of the open neck. She tried to ignore that. "What are you doing here?"
Jim thought he heard a tone of gentle contempt but chose to ignore it. "I thought you might be free to go eat."
"Why now? Because we're nowhere near work and you don't have to be seen alone with me? Your bravura is florid," she said and her exasperation was punctuated with a toss of her head.
"You don't have to get bitchy," Jim shot back with an angry growl.
There was a metallic hiss in the air as a blur of motion caused Brass to take an involuntary step back. The tip of Iris' sword was pointed directly at his crotch.
"Circumcised?" she asked in a cold voice.
Brass' eyebrows shot up but he said nothing.
"Wanna be?" she inquired in the same frigid tone.
Jim made an involuntary gulp, swearing to himself the tip of the foil was closer than ever to his "man land."
"Be glad I'm not PMSing," she snapped, lowered the foil and strode out of the gym.
"You have to be Brass," Rene said laughing with an upraised brow.
"Guess I live to say I am for another day. What's got her so worked up?" Jim asked with a thumb jerk toward where Iris had exited the gym floor.
"I'd say you're the reason at the moment. She only gets that animated when you're the topic tied in with how her job's going. Iris said work's got her goat right now. Do you know why? Come to my office, I'll get you a cup of java," Rene tried to sound hospitable during her inquiry as they walked out of the gymnasium. She wanted to see what made Brass tick.
"I honestly just stopped by to invite her to lunch," Brass maintained in Rene's office as she gave him a cup of coffee and she drank from a bottled water.
"Her surprise was genuine to see you here. Which meant you knew where she'd be right now, which meant you had to have followed her, or which meant you made inquiries of where she'd be and that means what? Are you stalking her?" Rene asked pointedly.
"I'm not stalking her. I confirmed she was here through the crime lab. What's it to you?" Jim countered testily.
"You must be threatened by her use of a sword, I mean from a phallic point of view, depending upon your package," Rene said with open sarcasm while making lazy circles in the air with her foil and a fixed glance at his below-the-belt area.
"What the…I got the full goods right here, sister, and my package always delivers and delivers big!" Brass snapped tersely with a confirmatory grasp at his nether region and stalked out of her office.
Rene shook her head slowly before she began laughing while she poured out the cup of coffee. She wondered if Iris had any clue how riled up the bulldog had become just being queried of why he'd come there in the first place.
X X X X X
That afternoon near three o'clock Rich Bailey was balancing the assignment cards with the staff he had available, one person already out sick and another gone on his honeymoon. He was glad to have Iris available to help balance the staff to case ratio without calling in a favor to Grissom or Edwards to give up a graveyard or day shift CSI to help out. A soft knock at his office door interrupted his thoughts. "Well, Iris, your ears must've been burning, I was just thinking about you. Please come in."
Rich's amiable air was diminished as Iris took a seat and he saw her flushed appearance when she blurted, "Are you unhappy with my job performance? Is Grissom? Do you want me to transfer to another PD or go back to Dallas?"
"Whoa, Nelly, what brought this on?" Rich asked with upraised hands in a "stop" motion.
"My first case for this crime lab was high-profile, which I didn't ask for, but I handled it and the end result was positive for all concerned. I know I had to take off over a week for my FMLA situation suddenly but I didn't think it had caused a rift with you as my new supervisor or Betty. You've had me on low-end cases since I returned to work and assigning homicides or more difficult cases to CSI's with less experience than me. What other conclusion can I draw than you don't have confidence in my skills as a CSI, so is my next stop Human Resources?" Iris related in a rush because inside her nerves were frayed to the breaking point.
The swing supervisor pulled a cold bottled water from his small fridge to give her and a Mountain Dew for himself. He took several moments before he responded. "First, Gil and I have complete confidence in your skills as a criminalist. Second, there's no rift with the FMLA you had to take even though I'm know you took a negative hit to your paycheck. Third, I'm sorry how I've delegated case assignments to you…it was a favor I was doing for someone."
"For who and for why?" Iris was perplexed.
"I'm not at liberty to indicate who," Rich said with an uncomfortable look.
"You mean you can't or won't disclose?" Iris pressed hard.
"It's someone outside of the crime lab and that's all I'll say. If I gave you a homicide case it was asked that I work on it jointly with you to see if you could handle it. We're short-handed as you know and I couldn't spare that kind of coverage," Rich explained.
"You've seen my jacket from the Dallas crime lab. I was on several homicide investigations and never once was my capability called into question. My performance evaluations were at the top of the rating scale. If I couldn't do the whole job, Grissom'd never have hired me! That's a bogus reason, Rich!" Iris challenged him with a frustrated smack of her hand on his table.
"You're right, Iris, but our intentions were good. I'll amend that in this afternoon's assignments. You'll have a 419 Jane Doe found an hour ago in a dumpster behind Circus Circus," Rich told her.
"Who's covering it as homicide detective?" Iris queried in a calmer tone.
"Well, it's not Brass if that's any consolation," Rich laughed guardedly but his face said more and he now realized it.
"I understand, Rich, perfectly," Iris said, "I never heard this part of our conversation."
X X X X X
Grissom was dividing up case assignments as he'd done the same way since he'd become the graveyard supervisor to the team all these years. "I'm leaving the lab. Catherine will assume the supervisor position upon my exit. Ecklie and I will be looking for a new level one CSI," he calmly announced to the team. While their faces clearly reflected stunned amazement, Grissom's cell phone rang and he excused himself to take it.
Nick's mind though in shock instantly thought why would they look, Iris was ready and perfect to plug in now. He kept a poker face for now.
X X X X X
Iris was back in the lab to process the trace evidence she'd collected at the homicide behind Circus Circus. She was walking past Brass' office and saw he was there on his laptop. Her inner voice cautioned to go right on by with her evidence bags, but her Scotch-Irish temper had been simmering too long. Iris rapped on his office door. She was ready to do battle and tear Brass a more than deserved new one. He looked up and his face took on a wariness also reflected in his voice. "Iris, what's up?"
She shut the door behind her and placed the evidence bags in one chair and took possession of the other. "I'd like to know why you recommended against assigning me homicide or other hard cases to Rich."
"Oh that's bullsh…," Jim started to jeer.
"Please…don't…just tell me why," Iris suddenly rose up and placed a hand to his lips. She then went and pulled the blinds closed. Their discussion was going to be private and she prayed her voice would stay below the shout level she wanted to use instead.
"I don't have to," Brass said testily and folded his hands on the table.
"Do you believe I can't do this job, that I don't have the stomach for it? Why would you try to sabotage me? All I ever tried to be was a friend to you and if this is how you treat one I'm sorry for you and sorry for me!" Iris confronted him and her calm veneer disappeared. He saw her anger and hurt. It cut at his heart like a rusty knife. He saw she was ready to argue her point passionately.
"You can do the job and do it well, Iris, I just didn't want another Holly. I was hoping you'd just get a belly full and transfer somewhere else or better yet go back to Dallas," he told her flatly.
"I thought…I felt…I hoped," Iris faltered as her anger faded suddenly from a white-hot fire to the familiar aching, dull pain she'd carried far too long in her heart.
"Felt what, hoped what?" Brass asked monotone.
"That there was a connection…a rapport…an affinity of some kind between you and me," she stammered softly.
"You're a good person, a kind and giving person, but if you thought there was more I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you that impression," Jim said and it sounded somewhere between pity and sympathy.
Iris' felt her eyes well up and she turned so he wouldn't see as she said formally, "Ah, silly me, sorry to have intruded on you, Captain Brass."
She turned with evidence bags in hand to open the door and leave, nearly running into Officer Triana Masters. Iris and the beautifully dark brunette shared a look of clear recognition as she yielded the doorway. "Officer Masters, Captain Brass is free to take his next appointment." She walked off as Triana gave her a curious glance before she came into Jim's office.
"Jim, long time, no see and I've missed big Jim. Can he come out and play with Miss Kitty?" she purred breathily with a seductive tongue licking her lips and her eyes focused at his belt buckle.
"No can do, Triana. That's in the past and, uh, big Jim's spoken for. Why are you here?" Brass said, trying to be confident.
"That's not what I hear and I've asked your closest sources, so tell me there's hope for us. Let's try one date and see where it takes us," Triana gave a sultry giggle and tried to continue utilizing every trick of erotic flirting in her arsenal to wear Brass down.
"No, Triana, that's a closed chapter between us with no chance of a sequel, please go," Jim was steadfast and pointed at his door.
"She was wrong," Triana said in surprise as those luscious lips Jim knew from past contact now pouted while she crossed her arms.
"Who was wrong?" Jim asked with a cocked brow.
"Iris, that's who. She told me you wanted to see me and discuss resuming where we left off. I know our association was common knowledge but I was surprised you'd ask a goody-goody like her to tell me you were interested again when all you had to do was just whistle. I asked her that myself and she said you had a scratch that only I could itch," Triana said haughtily.
"I'm sure she had good intentions, Triana, so let it go. I know you've got a waiting list so cross my name off…permanently, okay?" Jim said with all the resolve he could muster and showed her out. She gave him a tongue-friendly peck on the cheek "for old time's sake" and even watching her walk away with that vampy way she confidently carried herself made him stare longer than he meant to.
What in the devil was Iris up to he pondered silently.
He'd just sat back down to resume his laptop activity when Catherine and Nick literally burst into his office. "Have you heard?" Catherine started the conversation. Nick's phone vibrated in his pocket and he saw the text message from Iris: "Who is Holly to Brass?"
X X X X X
Grissom knew the team was still trying to process the news of his intent to leave the lab over the ensuing days, but he'd just accepted a new case that he wanted to lead the team investigation on. He'd had to wade through the sea of questions he knew he'd be asked not only by his team but Doc Robbins, Super Dave and the lab rats. Doc Robbins had bluntly asserted he was crazy and then bemoaned the prospect of having to tell his myriad of old jokes to new ears. With Wendy and Super Dave, it had been somewhat easier. For Wendy, he told her she'd earned it when she'd expressed her gratitude for his support and encouragement. Super Dave insisted that Grissom would miss the job during the time he was in the morgue and identified maggots on Curtis Keesey's body as the investigation was building and showing ties to the infamous Dick and Jane serial killer, Nathan Haskell. Grissom said to him, "There are bugs everywhere…I will miss you, though."
When he'd discussed his plans with Catherine, she'd surprised him when she told him she knew his intentions before he did when he felt it to be the opposite. Her adroitness was on par with his own because she knew the emotional toll the recent events of Warrick's death and Sara's leaving had had on him. Grissom knew he was leaving his team in her very capable hands and he found solace in that.
Grissom had encountered Brass outside of his office and Jim felt it the time and place to broach the subject he didn't want to but had to. "So, I hear you're movin' on."
"I am," Grissom said matter-of-fact.
"That's too bad," Brass said glumly.
There was an awkward silence for a moment.
"We'll stay in touch," Grissom reassured him.
"Sure. You know, the barbeque, Labor Day, the Fourth of July. Go out on the boat," Brass suggested possible get together scenarios.
"You got a boat?" Grissom was surprised.
"No," Brass replied, wistfully.
After Grissom left, Jim went back in his office and opened the desk drawer that contained the envelope with his power of attorney paperwork and drew a heavy sigh. His best friend was leaving CSI and likely Vegas. As he looked over the forms, the question came up in his heart. Who could he trust to look out for an old dog like him? Catherine? No, she had her mother and Lindsey. Nick? Stokes was a good guy but he wasn't the right choice. Ellie? No, no and hell no. Things were still too strained there for him to hope to ever count on her. His mind went to a better subject. His cabin sat right by a cove on Lake Mead, he liked to fish, so maybe it was high time to get a boat. His gut told him the likelihood of he and Grissom staying in touch like that was good to say but hard to do. As much as he wanted to think he and Gil were socially connected for as long as they'd been friends, the truth was they weren't and he felt a pang of regret over that. The afterhours drinks they'd commiserated over had been pretty much the extent of socializing. Opportunities to have gotten together to just even bowl and have a beer had never been realized. He felt Gil should just tell the lab to stuff it now and go find Sara, get as far away as they could and get busy making little Grissoms.
When Brass got home, he decided to relax with a cold Heineken and watching some tube and finish watching a nature show he had accidentally recorded on the DVR. It was to have been a special on hockey but the cable schedule had been screwed up. Instead the program was about Scottish wildlife and the animal being profiled at the point he'd stopped watching was the moor fox. As he watched the animal's inquisitive expression and the way it would cock its head slightly with its amber-eyed gaze, he now knew why it seemed so familiar and she didn't even know she had the similar mannerism. He tilted the bottle toward the TV in a silent toast before draining its contents.
X X X X X
Nick had opted to meet Iris at the diner where the team had hung out so many times but not since Warrick's death. He'd decided he wasn't going to let the place haunt him. Iris was already there nursing a cup of hot chocolate when he arrived. News of Grissom's decision to leave CSI had swept through the crime lab but Nick had called her to tell her right away. Grissom wanted to meet with Iris personally about the announcement that a level 1 CSI would be sought. They had agreed to meet in his office in the near future. He asked the hostess for a coffee before he headed to the table.
"Hi, Nickers," Iris looked up from her cup as Nick sat beside her. "I'm surprised but not surprised at the same time about Griss."
"Same here, ICK," Nick used one of her family nicknames as her hand slid to pat his reassuringly. "He's been in a fog with what happened to Warrick and then Sara's going away. God knows he's put his time in here. I wouldn't be where I am today without having him as a mentor…as a friend…heck, an older brother looking out for me. Yet I want him to stay so I guess I'm selfish."
"I'd say each of us is a little selfish in our own way. I dreamed about working a case with him and still want to be on team Grissom. I have to see it the way you do a church, it's not the building but the people that make it up and the same holds true with the team he's put together. It won't be the exact same but it will go on," Iris waxed philosophical as she stirred her hot chocolate before taking a sip.
"Little homespun Midwestern wisdom," Nick drawled.
"I reckon so," she drawled back.
After several moments, Nick's expression became serious. "You wanted to know about Holly Gribbs. Ten years ago Brass was the CSI graveyard supervisor and he took Holly on as the rookie CSI on the block, basically as a favor to Holly's mom who was in Traffic. Jim made it known he wasn't thrilled with having her on the team, so Catherine took her under her wing to guide her along. Holly was investigating a robbery case to process the scene. Brass had Warrick monitoring her to be sure she was following procedure, but he had to leave unexpectedly and initially she was with another officer who also left her alone. The perp came back and attacked Holly and shot her. To Holly's credit, she scratched the perp and his DNA got him arrested and the case solved. It was still a bad deal though with repercussions. The gunshot wound proved to be fatal and Holly died during surgery. Brass got demoted and sent to homicide, Griss took over as supervisor, and I think Jim's always felt indirectly responsible for what happened."
Iris processed what Nick had shared and she struggled to keep a neutral facial expression. "What a terrible time for the team, Nickers! I'd wondered if she was someone he'd been attached to in some way. Still I don't understand why he'd compare me to her. I mean the poor girl was a newbie CSI but a resourceful one given the horrible circumstance she was in. I'm a level 2 and given what happened back in big D I'm confident about taking care of myself in a scrape."
"I guess unconsciously he considers the same scenario when someone new comes to the team, no matter what their skill level, and he's resolved to looking out for all of us in his own way," Nick hypothesized.
"That doesn't surprise me, you all are his family," Iris agreed.
"Aren't you too? I mean you're part of the team and a friend even though you're on swing," Nick insisted.
"I don't think he has confidence in my ability to be a CSI. I really think he'd be overjoyed to hear I've decided to go back to Dallas or transfer to another police department far from Vegas. It just seems he wants me gone. We're more oil and water when around each other," Iris lamented and motioned to the waitress for another hot chocolate.
"He'll come around, Iris! Don't you dare talk about leaving Vegas! You're here to stay! Show Brass man you're as stubborn as he is" Nick exclaimed vehemently.
"Well, I guess I have your vote of confidence and that's enough for me," Iris laughed. "I'm probably gum on the bottom of Brass' shoe but he'll just have to deal."
"Remember, one of your favorite sayings is "keep the faith"!" Nick reminded her.
X X X X X
Grissom and his team continued on over the ensuing days with their investigation of the old Dick and Jane murders of Nathan Haskell and what now appeared to be a copycat serial killer now with the exact MO. Iris had wished desperately that Griss had made a request for extra hands to help, namely hers, but it hadn't materialized. It was proving to be a roller coaster for the team with twists and turns galore. She "kept the faith" as Nick had wisely advised and kept her nose to the swing shift grindstone, working new homicides or other case types jointly or solo with a high success rate. Rich and Betty had declared she could never leave their team. She purposefully saw to it that she didn't see hide-nor-hair of Brass, but she continued bestowing her culinary tokens via the night custodian to his office. It was her subtle way of saying "I'm still here." Her discrete inquiries made sporadically to Nick or Greg confirmed Jim being observed in his office devouring his meals.
Iris knew that Griss had enlisted Dr. Raymond Langston, a forensics professor at WLVU teaching a criminology class and who was engaging Nathan Haskell in a series of video conferences for that class, to act as a consultant on the case to help the team's investigation. At Grissom's recommendation, she was in the process of reading Langston's book recounting his experiences of the Angel of Death serial murderer of 27 patients at the hospital he was a staff pathologist at. She hadn't met him but felt she'd have an instant soft spot with her background of working in the DPD forensic pathology department initially before she went on to be a CSI. It was proving to be a fascinating read that was hard to put down when she had any spare time to enjoy reading curled up in her big comfy leather sofa at home.
Tonight was different with Catherine having texted her to stay and meet her in Grissom's office. She was to be there at eight o'clock and was sure to be punctual. Grissom and Catherine were already seated as she took the second vacant chair.
"Iris, I wanted to personally go over what I said to the team for when I leave and the search for a level one CSI. You've been very gracious about being on swing so that Riley could take what should've been your spot. Catherine and I've discussed it and while we want you it's due to city budget constraints now that I can't offer you that position," Grissom began the conversation.
"What if I took a pay cut?" Iris offered.
"Gil, that's a great idea," Catherine said hopefully.
"I actually anticipated that and went back to Ecklie with that exact proposal. He shot it down, saying that you were overqualified to take a position and pay reduction like that when a level 2 is needed and approved on swing," Grissom said with a slight frown. "I dissected every angle possible to get you on the team and believe me it was a heated argument I had with our new undersheriff."
"Griss, I appreciate you going to bat for me so hard core. You can't roll a lucky seven every time, sometimes the house wins," Iris reasoned with a wry smile. "I'm not going anywhere and will stay on swing until Catherine has an opening she can let me take as a legitimate transfer."
"Iris, Brass has called you a classy package and I think the term fits. You can count on my accepting your transfer although Rich'll be upset," Catherine winked.
"Uh, well, it's nice to hear the good captain thinks of me in such glowing terms," Iris nodded somewhat abruptly. "I better clear out your gang will be coming in soon." With that, she left Grissom's office to head home. She was just in time too as she Brass coming in the opposite way to go to his own office. Iris breathed a silent prayer of thanks on her way out to the Excursion.
"Now what do you make of that Gil? She acted like I jabbed her with a cattle prod at the mere mention of Jim," Catherine remarked with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm not sure myself. It seems like she's avoiding Brass doesn't it? It's a shame because I was hopeful there were signs of a strong rapport progressing between them. I asked Jim if they were getting along okay and he thought they were," Grissom replied with a puzzled look.
"I think something's been different between them since the night we all went to Da Mix. I can't prove it right now but call it women's intuition," Catherine declared.
"As far as I could tell, they shared a few slow dances, nothing suspicious," Grissom recalled.
"Something might've happened between them during those slow dances, Gil, but Iris hasn't shared anything with me," Catherine maintained.
"We'll have to take a wait-and-see profile then until there's more evidence. Now, I wanted to talk to you more about Dr. Langston," Grissom said to discuss his thoughts further with her.