Chapter Fourteen
Brass didn't like it one bit. Even though Grissom and Dr. Langston had gotten off to a bad start when Gil had gone to WLVU and sat in on the video conference class involving Nathan Haskell, Grissom had been tossed a bone literally by that twisted SOB Nathan Haskell via Dr. Langston during a call that the forensics professor had Grissom listen in on. Under the bridge, Joel Steiner's skeletal remains had just been accounted for and now a new male victim with 10 stab wounds was found just a few feet away in another shallow grave Brass had identified as Jeffrey Masters. Jim had the equally unpleasant task of now disclosing to the CSI team that Jeffrey's wife Maureen was also missing and likely had at best 48 hours to be found alive. They had to stop whoever this freak-in-training disciple of Haskell's was and now. The frustration remained for the CSI team and Brass that Haskell and his student seemed to stay one step ahead as in the original Dick and Jane serial murders. Knowing that no female victims of Haskell's had ever been found weighed heavily on the detective's mind as well. The sense of urgency to find Maureen was particularly acute.
Jim knew Grissom had also been informed by Ecklie that the sheriff himself had requested he remain on the case until its conclusion. Some guys would've said tough and walked, but Brass knew Gil would've never done such a thing. He would leave on his terms alone.
The hypothesis had been floated that a student in Langston's class could be acting as a more than willing accomplice for Haskell to vicariously carry out a new murder spree. Part of the investigation was now spotlighting the class students and Brass' focus had initially been on Dan Forrester. He made a very likely suspect to Jim because the guy had supposedly recommended involving the class with talking to a serial killer, then going the additional mile to personally contact Haskell. How quickly they change their tune Brass mused after questioning Dan the man. Once the light went off that he could be a suspect and before Jim could say a parody of "book 'em Danno", Forrester backpedaled and claimed several students jointly proposed the idea to contact a serial killer for their class.
After that, he was on standby while the CSI's went to the classroom in an attempt to see if Haskell was using visual cues during certain comments as the method of contact with his accomplice. Brass had a new name to go with…that of Thomas Donover…and he was headed to Donover's house with some uniforms. Thomas' wife, Kelly, denied knowledge of her husband's whereabouts and Brass felt she was indeed clueless. A search warrant was executed by the CSI's with Greg finding shoes that had matched track treads for the Ian Wallace and Justine Stefani murders. Nick found a box of video tapes but no VCR could be accounted for, yet his recollection of the opposite being found at in possession of informant Gerald Tolliver. His disgust had been palpable at relaying the first victims being tormented by Donover, Tolliver and then Haskell. However, Kelly Donover was able to confirm that Tolliver was a friend of her husband's.
Time was ticking down for Maureen…and patience was not a present virtue for Jim Brass.
The team's efforts to now locate the house where Donover was holding Maureen was in full swing. When Hodges analyzed moss found on the bottom of Donover's shoes and determined it grew on the north side of Lake Mead, Grissom came up with the plan to use the position of the moon on star charts to compare the video tapes as way to pinpoint where the house was that Haskell had taken his victims. While Grissom was doing this, Langston's willingness to be more involved than just a consultant was evident when he proactively went to see Haskell and bluff him into disclosing the location of his female victims by claiming Tom had been apprehended and Maureen rescued. His effort was in vain though as Haskell saw it to be a ruse and refused to offer any information. Haskell's smug expression of assumed triumph made Langston want to reach through the bars and personally exact justice by his own hands, but he kept his head and relayed what occurred to Grissom.
Brass had to admit to a margin of grudging admiration that the good doctor was willing to extend himself so to help Grissom and his team. His own ongoing prayer they would be in time for Maureen's sake and that one day Haskell would be shaken over hell on a rotten stick.
Grissom's hunch paid off big as it was determined the house was located on Black Mesa. Brass and his team followed by Grissom with the CSI's literally flew to the location, Jim personally fearing they were too late and Haskell would get another pound of flesh added to his list of victims.
Thomas Donover was feeling the heady rush again as he continued to torment Maureen. Her begging and pleading were fueling this exhilaration that no drug could manufacture. It was time now for physical union and its sweet release as he judged it her time to die. The power to hold another's life in your hands and then be its executor without remorse thrilled him to the core of his being as he readied himself to strike.
Brass and his team broke through the door and raced through the house, Jim saw Donover preparing to kill Maureen and without hesitating fired the head shot that sent Donover to a very hot place he had no doubt. Brass gently released the ties that bound Maureen while voicing quiet reassurances to the traumatized woman before the EMTs took over. Later, as the CSI team painstakingly searched through the house, Grissom responded to some inner prompting to check the under the floorboards beneath which rested the female victims of Nathan Haskell.
Iris was sure her phone was going to blow up from the barrage of text messages between her and Nick as he kept her updated with what transpired at the Black Mesa house. She composed another text message for a different recipient while a debate went on in her heart to send or not send.
Jim's phone vibrated as he waited on the CSI's to finish processing the house. He wanted to be there when the news was given to Nathan Haskell that he lost this round. Thinking it was Ecklie wanting to tout his undersheriff privileges for updates so he could be poised for the eventual news conference, he wanted to ignore it but pulled out his phone. His eyebrow cocked in genuine surprise to see the text message.
"Take no prisoners, mon capitan, bad guys zero, Brass 1. ~ ICK"
He pulled out one of the handkerchiefs he now always carried to look reflectively at its embroidered message.
X X X X X
Langston was in his WLVU office as he brooded over what he hoped was his last interaction with Nathan Haskell for the rest of eternity. His hope was that in some small way he had been of service to Grissom and his CSI team to break the cycle Haskell had succeeded in perpetuating even while behind bars. He had a frank admiration for his forensic colleague and the interaction he'd had with Grissom and his team. To his amazement, Grissom had stopped by for an unexpected visit and Langston was further astonished at Grissom's suggestion he should apply for the level one CSI position on the graveyard team.
X X X X X
It was to be Grissom's last night at the crime lab. He finished packing up his office in spite of Hodges coming in to make a last-minute plea that he not leave the team. Hodges told him that the bad guys would win if he left and Grissom discerned that beneath the surface Hodges was sincerely expressing his admiration as well as sense of loss at his departure. Grissom honestly responded it was the right time for him to go so that Hodges could understand why he couldn't change his course of action. At the end of their conversation, Hodges' acceptance was assured and his hurt somewhat assuaged.
Grissom reflected a moment on his saying good-bye to Nick and Greg. Nick pledged he'd never forget the things he'd learned from him, and Grissom replied that Nick had been his best student. He understood that what Nick meant on a different level was not restricted to his job skills. Greg's transition from lab rat to being a capable CSI had had rough spots, but his acknowledgement to Grissom that he had changed his life was sincere and heartfelt.
As Grissom took his last walk down the familiar hallways, he saw the usual activity to be expected of the team with its collective nose to the grindstone and interacting with Ecklie, the lab rats, and Doc Robbins. The last two he saw were Brass and Catherine, likely discussing a case he deduced, as Catherine saw him and gave him a smile and subtle wink. In that wink and momentary eye contact was silently conveyed her thoughts – she would miss him the most in some ways but her happiness for him shined through. He felt her unspoken blessing and unconditional support for this new journey he had to embark upon.
Grissom would never know that Brass saw him peripherally but chose not to give a visual acknowledgement like the wink he saw Catherine make or even a curt nod of farewell. Jim had many he called acquaintances but few he could name as actual close friends and the one closest to him was officially leaving. It left a bigger hole than he thought it would. He was grateful to be sitting with Catherine when Grissom went by. Change sucked he thought but it was inevitable in life. One day the guard would change for him too.
He was headed for the Denali when he spied Iris locking up her Excursion. She waved at him and she saw he was carrying a box and she bit her lip.
"Aw, Griss, it's your last shift then?" Iris asked and walked with him to the Denali.
"Yes, I'm going out the way I wanted to without party or fanfare," he said and put the box in the passenger seat.
"I wish I could've gotten the chance to work a case with you," Iris said shyly.
"We did indirectly on your 'All the King's Horses' case. Remember you're doing well here. I have confidence in you and your abilities as a criminalist. You'll be part of the team when the time's right. I've never reconsidered hiring you," Grissom reassured her with a gentle pat on her shoulder.
"Where are you off to next?" Iris said.
"I thought about doing some traveling," Grissom said with a distant look in his eyes.
"Please say hello to Sara for me. I hope I meet her some day," Iris deduced with a faint smile.
Grissom was startled; he'd told no one of his plans. "I didn't tell anyone…"
"I know but it's time to follow your heart and where she is it is," Iris told him simply.
Grissom nodded and went so far as to give her a brief hug while he said, "Take care of him."
Iris looked up him puzzled. "Nickers will be fine."
"I didn't mean Nick." Her confused expression caused Grissom to give her a cryptic smile and one last pat on her shoulder. "Be well, Iris."
Iris stepped back as Grissom started the Denali, backed out and left the parking lot. She raised a hand in farewell as he drove off. They'd all be well he knew. The plane ticket to Costa Rica was in the console between the seats. He had a vivid mental image of Sara, her soft lips always hinting the need to be kissed, the scent of her raven hair, the look of her sleepy eyes, and how she felt laying in his arms just after they'd made love. Now where was his straw hat?
X X X X X
Brass decided to formally pass the baton to Catherine as he poured a shot of his tried and true associate Jim Beam into two shot glasses to keep the tradition going. It was the end of shift and one for the road as he toasted, "May the hinges of our friendship never grow rusty…to Gil and Sara and the team."
After a Catherine left, Brass hit play for the CD in his laptop and it was a Motown jazz to R&B mix that he liked. Iris had shown him how to make it on his home PC after he'd confessed he didn't know how. It was on shuffle mode and he smiled as he heard again The Four Tops singing in their smooth soulful harmony "Ain't No Woman Like the One I Got." His fingers tapped in time as he heard certain lines: "When she smiles so warm and tender, a sight for sore eyes to see…She don't ask for things, no diamond rings…She's a real good friend right to the end…So together like a hand in glove…Wouldn't be surprised if my love keeps growin', bigger every minute that she stays away…I'm a lonely man when my baby's gone…to make her happy doesn't take a lot."
X X X X X
A week after Grissom's departure, a sense of normalcy had returned somewhat to the crime lab. Catherine had been offered his vacant office but in turn urged Nick to take it over. He'd vacillated briefly about it but opted to accept it. Catherine wasn't surprised to see him decide to also have Greg and Riley share the real estate too. Hodges' touch was to be sure Grissom's infamous fetal pig remained in place. Nick had also assumed custody of Esau, Grissom having imparted instructions in the care of tarantulas before he left. Dr. Ray Langston had applied for and been hired in as the new level one CSI to the graveyard team. He was in orientation and would join the team after completing it. Catherine had touched base frequently with Iris since and saw no change in Iris' position that she had no rancor whatsoever in Langston's joining the team nor had she expected any. Iris didn't roll that way and she knew when the timing was right she'd get her transferred to the team, hoping city budget constraints would permit it. She'd tapped Nick as assistant supervisor as one of her first "official" decisions as the graveyard supervisor.
However, tonight Catherine was experiencing her first staffing crunch: Greg and Riley were both out with salmonella food poisoning contracted after eating breakfast at a local restaurant. She knew Greg had invited Riley and was working up to potentially asking her out. Since Grissom and Sara's relationship had gone public, in spite of Ecklie's objections to coworkers becoming involved, she personally had no issue provided it didn't interfere with job performance. Her own experience with the heartache over Warrick was going to take whatever time she'd need for it to lessen so she was throwing herself into work all the more these days.
Catherine knew who she wanted in this situation and didn't hesitate to call. "Rich, it's Catherine. I'm still down two bodies. Greg and Riley aren't over the hump yet. Can you spare Iris for a few days?"
Iris was home deep in tube. She'd watched "Coal Miner's Daughter" and it always made her melt when Tommy Lee Jones' said "Darlin'" in that low gravely growl. It was followed by the new episode of "Chopped" on the Food Channel and now "Julia and Julie." She was pondering over the exact state of her feelings involving Brass while taking another sip of red wine. Just what were her exact motives? Was it friendship and genuine concern born from spending time with him during his health crisis? Was it something else on a deeper level she had hoped would develop between her and the good detective? She chided herself mercilessly for having been instantly attracted to him, much to her surprise, and had tried to initiate a low-key pursuit of him. Hadn't they gotten to know each other better, discuss their failed marriages, and hadn't she gone as far as making mental notes about the type of women that attracted Jim? The latter had been her motivation for initiating Triana's reconnect with Brass which she was sure culminated in their picking up where things left off. Another bon voyage on the Love Boat she'd helped facilitate she thought morosely.
Her cell phone rang and the ring tone told her it was Catherine. Iris nudged Cyrano out of the way who occupied the other half of the leather couch so she could get her phone and turn off the DVD. "Hey, Catherine, bored yet?"
"Are you kidding? Langston's to start tonight which means I have to partner him with someone, and I'm still short Greg and Riley because of tainted scrambled eggs!"
"Ack, Catherine, anything I can do to help? I'm off tonight but no plans on the horizon."
"I know its short notice, Iris, but I talked to Rich first. Can you cover graveyard a few days with us?"
"You know my motto, one is glad to be service and I live to serve, I'll be there within 45 minutes."
Iris headed to the crime lab with the determination that any interaction she had with Brass would be friendly and cordial. He'd suspect nothing and have no emotional morass to contend with…she was doing well enough with that on her own for the both of them.
In the lab break room, Catherine dispensed assignments with the same routine Grissom had kept. Her thinking was "if it ain't broke don't fix it". Iris took a seat by Nick as Dr. Langston arrived to take a chair. She noted he had an intensity about him that was both cerebral and physical. Having someone like that on your side in a dark alley would be a plus.
"Hi, Dr. Langston, I'm Iris from the swing shift. I'm enjoying reading your book," she introduced herself and held out her hand for him to shake.
"Ah, well, thank you for the review and please call me Ray," he said with an amiable nod.
"Iris, you've got a 419 (deceased person) in the parking garage of the Luxor. A blackjack dealer was found with his throat crammed full of cards, holding the jack of spades in one hand and the ace of spades in the other," Catherine said while sliding the index card to her with the information.
"Someone was a sore loser," Nick quipped.
"Any preview on who the homicide detective is for the case?" Iris asked, silently pleading please not Brass, please not Brass.
"Your favorite and mine, Brass," Catherine replied archly.
Iris nodded with a neutral expression as she fixed her gaze on the index card.
"Nick, you and Ray have a 407 (robbery) to work up," Catherine said. "I've got a combo 415/426 (assault/rape) to take care of off the strip."
"See you all back at the ranch," Iris said, preparing to head out to the Excursion.
"Yup, Lord willin' and the creek don't rise," Nick grinned at her, Langston bringing up the rear.
X X X X X
Brass saw Iris coming, the picture of the dedicated CSI with kit in hand, while he stood by the body of the deceased blackjack dealer in the employee section of the Luxor parking garage. Super Dave waved at Iris with the beatific smile he almost always had when she saw him. Jim started to whistle to himself while he waited on Iris to set up what she needed in her kit. She gave him a veiled glance, why was he whistling? She should've known he had a capable pucker not only to whistle a tune with but deliver a lethal kiss by.
"The liver temperature gives a TOD (time of death) of 9:00 PM. Cause of death is a stab wound directly to the heart. The killer knew right where to strike to make it clean, quick and silent. Victim also has a human bite wound to the outer dorsal/palmar right hand. The Luxor employee badge and drivers license in his wallet identifies him as Ivan Wu. He's all yours, Iris," Dave said.
"Vicks, you're a sight for sore eyes," Jim said genially, his notepad in one hand.
"Um, whatever, what's the story here?" Iris ignored him to examine the body closer and not dwell on this nickname of Vicks that Jim was suddenly addressing her by.
"Grouchy, are we? Vicks, is this only way you can get close to a guy is when he's dead? Hoping for a diamond ring?" Brass quipped smugly.
"Are you loopy? You're not making any sense. I have no need for a diamond ring. I've done the wedded deed once and I can succeed in meeting a live male. Thanks for the apparent concern. What's the story on the victim?" Iris grumbled at him.
"Okay, okay, back to business. Like Super Dave said, this is Ivan Wu working the afternoon/evening shift dealing blackjack. I'm going to get statements from the pit boss and floorman he worked under and view the surveillance camera footage," Brass told her, referencing his notepad.
"Cards jammed in the mouth, ace of spades in the left hand and jack of spades in the right. It's a deck from the Luxor. The stab wound looks straight in and not angled, so perhaps the killer was close to the height of Mr. Wu here. The bite wound nearly goes to the bone," Iris commented as she took a series of pictures for the wound entry going through the clothing and with the shirt opened to view the wound along with the bite on the right hand. She then kneeled to remove the cards to tag and place in evidence envelopes.
"Yeah, 21 the hard way, he got dealt a bad hand literally and it bites," Brass commented with a wry smirk.
"The ace of spades is also known as the death card and another name for the Jack of spades as Holger Danske – a knight of Charlemagne," Iris remarked nonplussed by his trademark sharp witticisms. She went on to collect trace evidence and take swabs of the large collection of blood by the victim's left side. Jim waited patiently while she processed the scene and he continued making conversation.
"Gil would be proud of you making those vague references. You knew in advance, Vicks, right?" Brass asked.
"Um, yes, I knew about the ace of spades which is common knowledge but, no, the info on the jack I googled on my way here," Iris confessed.
"I'll stick around until you release the body to the ME's van and then I plan to check out that footage. The perp should be on Candid Camera," Jim proposed.
"Ah, you're going to be my gallant knight to protect me from all harm?" Iris mused drily.
"Look, Vicks, you're a real good friend, like to the end as they say, so sure I feel protective like that," Brass shrugged.
Iris' head cocked slightly in that now-familiar way as she gazed at him several moments before she bestowed a slow warm smile on him. There seemed to be a tenderness reflected in the dark brightness of her eyes. Much seemed forgiven at that moment or so he hoped.
"Can I join you while you get your statements and check out the video?" she asked.
"It doesn't take a lot to make you happy," Brass observed.
"Oh, hey, my idea of a dream date…a dead guy can't skip out," Iris said straight-faced. "By the way, why are you calling me Vicks all of a sudden?"
"You need a Vegas nickname and recalling your rubbing that smelly stuff on my feet came to mind," Brass replied.
"Lovely, I'll add it to my AKA list," Iris sighed, rolling her eyes.
On their way to the casino's main video room, where cameras constantly scanned the activity throughout the Luxor, it was his turn to get clarification. Jim suddenly asked, "What's the deal of trying to hook me back up with Triana anyhow?"
Iris gave a guilty start but recovered quickly. "It's quite simple really. You have a past history with her of a confirmed highly intimate nature. You said her name a few times in your sleep. The sound of it suggested conjugal activity was the goal and your voice had a dreamy hopeful quality. Your subconscious was talking so I took it upon myself to discuss you taking up where you left off and she was interested."
"Well, for the record, it was never like we were so together like a hand in glove. It was a fling for both of us and never went beyond that. She got what she wanted and so did I. I told her no thanks. No more matchmaking for me, Vicks, okay?" Brass clarified with a pointing finger.
"Hmm, you sound like the guy in the Bob Seger song "Night Moves"," Iris said drolly.
Brass cocked a "don't go there" eyebrow at her.
"Okay, right, no more matchmaking," Iris promised contritely with a cross-your-heart gesture.
"Let's just say I could be a lonely man because my baby's gone but I'm fine with it because I've come to think I never had "the one" to be my real baby to begin with so that's life," Jim declared and her response seemed to mollify him as they were met by the casino pit boss and floorman.
His casual insistence that he was lonely but content with it went through Iris like a hot knife but she just silently nodded. Her thought and goal to keep it amiable and neutral with Brass maintained at all costs. Still how he was talking to her was peculiar to say the least but it seemed oddly familiar at the same time. She was a bit frustrated she couldn't immediately pinpoint his strange track of conversation.
The pit boss and floorman sat with them as video was played of Ivan Wu having an active shift until about the 8 PM caption time. A tall attractive woman who could do a turn as a fashion model in a sequined form-fitting dress was shown getting chummy with the willing man who had a crowd around the table for the hot streak he was having and the enlarging pile of poker chips. She was observed trying to surreptitiously slide a few one hundred dollar chips when Ivan busted her by grabbing her hand with the concealed chips. An obvious altercation resulted with a heated exchange between the woman, the player and Ivan taking place. Two security guards escorted the woman away while the player tipped Ivan with five $100 chips and left to cash in his winnings.
"Can you back it up to get a good look at the broad?" Jim asked the casino worker running the video board.
"Glamazon's back in Vegas," Jim pointed at the frozen image of the woman just before the fracas broke out.
"Glamazon? Do you know her?" Iris was confused.
"She is actually a he, Valentine Arrellano, a "shim" and one of the better transvestites working the strip. I've worked some homicide cases where the victim got rolled by a she who's really a he. As a guy, I can tell you I'd be plenty sore to discover the woman I was hoping to have a nice time with didn't have the right equipment," Brass said.
"Their heights are very close," Iris murmured to Jim and his slight nod confirmed her observation.
"Ivan's lucky this stopped when he did, the house was out ten grand," the pit boss growled.
"I'd say his luck ran out in the end, wouldn't you?" Iris said. "Does Glamazon have a record, Jim?"
"Minor stuff as I recall – pot and ecstasy possession, theft, solicitation, disorderly conduct. Glamazon had gone to LA several months ago but its hard times all over so he decided to try again back home," Jim shrugged. "He's pretty regular where he prefers to hole up so finding him shouldn't take long."
The next video was from the employee parking area. Ivan Wu was walking in unhurried manner when a high-heeled shoe thrown at him made contact on his back followed by its mate in rapid succession. Ivan whirled in obvious anger and his expression showed he was yelling at someone only to find himself dodging fists as Glamazon charged into view. The two were nearly the same height as suspected. Wu showed he could duck and weave as he evaded Glamazon's punches, but that changed when Glamazon finally connected one right in the solar plexus. As Wu doubled over, Glamazon tried to get him in a headlock that Wu broke and was able to apply his own. Glamazon proved hard to hang onto as they continued to wrestle, then Glamazon twisted was able to find a way to bite Wu's right hand. Grabbing his hand in pain, Wu tried to back off but Glamazon advanced on him and drew out a knife and with a quick thrust stabbed Wu in the left upper chest. Wu collapsed on his back instantly as Glamazon looked furtively around to see if there was anyone else around. Seeing no one, Glamazon spit on Wu's body and rifled through his pockets where he removed the $100 chips as well as a deck of cards. Glamazon thumbed through the cards quickly, posed the body with a card in each hand, taking several others to shove into Wu's mouth but before doing so wiping them quickly with a napkin.
Brass questioned the pit boss and floorman, and then took their statements. As he and Iris headed back to the parking garage, he said, "Okay, Vicks, I've got some spots to go check where Glamazon's likely to be and have some uniforms with me. This case looks pretty cut and dried from the video footage. I'll let you know if I get lucky or not." He pressed the speed dial on his phone. "Brass in Pocket" started playing on Iris' phone in her pocket.
"What the…why?" Iris said, irritated, pulling out her phone to cancel his call.
"Just testing the Brass Emergency Support Team," he said.
"Oh, that's good, B-E-S-T, I get it," Iris said drily.
"Why Vicks, you're the only person I know who uses that ring tone for my number so I guess I'm supposed to be honored," he teased with a mock bow.
"Maybe you'll get lucky for sure with Glamazon!" Iris shot back, stung yet again by his sarcasm.
"Not bad, not bad. I take snarky to levels existing technology can't begin to calculate. I need an apprentice," he chuckled.
"Well, I'm headed back to the crime lab with my booty," Iris said when she caught Jim smirking momentarily at her backside.
"This booty, genius!" Iris exclaimed with a glare and pulled an evidence bag from the Excursion.
"Heh, just getting another of many rises out of you, Vicks. I need to start keeping score," Brass laughed before he headed to his Charger.
After he drove off, Iris smacked the driver's door in frustration before she got in. He exploited every opportunity to get her peeved and succeeded most of the time. How in heaven's name was she to come up with a way to maintain a casual friendship and work relationship while holding in check the intense feelings he evoked in her. She recited the serenity prayer to herself on the way back, especially irked by the new nickname of Vicks. Iris came away with the notion that she was a stench in Jim Brass' nostrils.
X X X X X
Brass had found Glamazon/Valentine at the apartment of a fellow "shim" partner he was teamed with who worked the same casinos and brought him in for questioning without incident. He was dressed as a guy now and protested his innocence all the way up to the point of Brass showing the security camera video from the casino and in the employee parking area. At that point, he lawyered up and Brass was all too happy to release him to the custody of the jail officers. He called Iris but it went to voicemail and he wondered if she was too PO'd to talk, so he texted her that he'd snagged Glamazon. Her response came seconds later.
"Dazzling detective deducing…stunning super sleuthing…still with Doc Robbins for autopsy on vic ~ ICK"
"I dance better than Al ~ JB"
"Keep your day job, twinkle toes. TTYL ~ ICK"
Jim shoved the phone in his pocket with a satisfied chuckle. He'd let her enjoy the 3D autopsy up close and personal without sharing the full details that Glamazon was now in the slamazon.
Doc Robbins looked at Iris while he closed the Y-shaped incision on Wu. "Texting during an autopsy?"
"I'm swapping insults with Brass," Iris sighed and closed the phone.
"That would be flirting to him," Doc cautioned with a wink.
"No chance of that. He's probably getting his jollies at the notion I'm attending an autopsy. Little does he know I find them interesting and don't get sick over them because I've been a Quincy fan since forever," Iris laughed thinly. "Thanks for letting me observe the post-mortem. I've got an errand to do."
X X X X X
Nick was walking by Brass' office and caught an intoxicating aroma. He stuck his head in the open door. Jim was in the middle of finishing a taco. "What's on the menu?"
"Brisket BBQ soft shell tacos, refried beans and rice, and I just finished the last one…finger lickin' good," Brass said with a satisfied belch.
"Iris struck again?" Nick asked casually as he leaned against the door frame.
"Why do you say she did? I could've brought this on the way in," Jim snorted.
"'Cause I know how the brisket ones she makes smell, I've gotten to eat them for myself, they rock," Nick grinned.
"Well, she struck again and I plan to have a chat with the night janitor," Brass admitted and cleared his desk of the paper refuse into the wastebasket. He pumped some hand sanitizer into his hands to clean off the BBQ taco residue.
"Aw, let it go, Brass man, she just likes to do nice things for us all. It's her way of saying she cares as a friend," Nick said.
"Okay, okay, I won't say anything to the janitor," Brass gave in.
"I gotta get back to Langston. He's made some rookie mistakes but so far so good," Nick said and left.
"Rookies," Jim grunted aloud to himself. He turned on his stereo before he started on his case paperwork for the Ivan Wu homicide. Being around Iris had rubbed off on him in that he more frequently had music playing at home or in the car and here at work. He could even tolerate random country songs. A faint knock on his door caused him to look up with a pronounced scowl. Now what?
Iris took a few slow steps in. "Hey, I was going to see if you wanted to get breakfast later but I still smell the tacos."
"Uh, yeah, I just finished those a while ago but I'll have to pass on the breakfast offer," Jim politely declined as he'd done repeatedly.
Iris cocked her head slightly as her ear caught the song now playing on his stereo. Her facial expression struck him when she said slowly, "That's an ironic song, isn't it?"
He turned to hear what she was talking about and listen to the song.
"Take time to realize/That your warmth is crashing down on in/Take time to realize/That I am on your side/Didn't I, Didn't I tell you/But I can't spell it out for you/No, it's never gonna be that simple/No, I can't spell it out for you."
He glanced back and Iris was gone. Jim was suddenly cognizant that something in her muted facial expression conveyed it was the last time she'd ask him to enjoy a meal with her. She hadn't said her customary some other time then.
"Take time to realize/Oh-oh I'm on your side/Didn't I, didn't I tell you/Take time to realize/This all can pass you by/But I can't spell it out for you/No its never gonna be that simple/No I can't spell it out for you."
Brass pulled out his wallet and took out the 1904 US liberty twenty-dollar gold piece that he always carried with him. It had been given to him on his wedding day by his father. His dad had been given that very gold piece the same way by Brass' grandfather. All of his wallets carried the outline of the coin that looked exactly like a condom ring for which he'd gotten his fair share of ribbing about from Grissom.
He continued to listen to the song.
"It's not the same/No it's never the same/If you don't feel it to/If you meet me half way/If you would meet me half way/It could be the same for you/If you just realize what I just realized/Then we'd be perfect for each other/And we'll never find another/Just realize what I just realized/We'd never have to wonder/Just realize what I just realized/If you just realize what I just realized/Oh missed out on each other now/Missed out on each other now/Realize…"
Brass closed his eyes for several moments as he reflected on the song's lyrical content in the context of Iris' abrupt departure. He took a hard look at the gold coin before spontaneously flipping it in the air and it landed to spin several times on the desk before it fell on its side with a metallic thud. Jim leaned forward to look at the coin, gazed heavenward a moment, and with a heavy sigh leaned back in his chair. Who was he to tempt Fate?