Chapter 7

"What happened to your hand?"

"Sorry?" He had zoned out, not hearing her question. It was the second time he caught himself lost in thoughts and oblivious to his current company. He looked over at the girl walking next to him.

"Your hand, you didn't have that cast on Friday."

He glanced down at his hand briefly. "Oh that, I, uh, broke it on Friday."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

He watched as her eyes shot down to the pavement. He moved to reassure her. "It's okay. You didn't know."

He continued to walk next to her, occasionally stealing glances and noticing when she did the same. Neither of them spoke, each looking up to say something before returning their eyes to the ground. He searched his mind for something to say; anything to break the uncomfortable silence between them. "Jessica?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for coming on this walk with me."

"You're welcome."

The words were not enough to get a conversation going and they resumed walking in silence. He looked over at her and opened his mouth, attempting to say something again, but realized he had nothing. He quickly looked away. He mentally scolded himself for causing the uncomfortable situation. Normally, he didn't have a problem making conversation with a woman and it was disquieting to find himself at a loss for words with her. His thoughts kept drifting back to Warrick and the many things he wanted to get off of his chest. He needed to talk to someone other than the team, but he barely knew Jessica and he didn't feel like it was fair to unload on her. However, talking about something else was extremely difficult when his mind was on Warrick. Instead, he walked beside her, the silence deafening as he tried to come up with something to say.

He glance quickly at her and hoped she'd say something, anything. She seemed as lost for words as he was. She had tried, earlier, to make conversation, asking about his cast, but it just served to remind them of Friday morning. For a moment, he wished she were a more forward person, someone like Catherine, someone who always had something to say and could get anyone out of an awkward situation. He shook the thought from his head and reasoned that if she was more forward, if she was anyone but the shy girl walking next to him, he wouldn't have asked her to go for a walk. Besides, he knew that he was to blame for the painful silence and he felt like he had to say something; he just didn't know what.

His cell rang, disrupting the quiet. He breathed a sigh of relief and silently thanked god for the interruption. His relief was short lived though. He spoke briefly to the caller, closed his phone and turned to Jessica. "That was my boss. I have to go to work. Apparently it's urgent."

"Okay." They turned and began walking back towards the diner.

"I'm really sorry."

"You have to work; I understand."

"No, I'm sorry about the walk. I was terrible company."

"No, you weren't, really." He smiled at her attempt to reassure him.

"I was. The walk was awkward and you're sorry you came with me."

"No, I'm not. And the walk wasn't awkward. It was…"

Nick waited for her to finish her sentence. She seemed to be searching for a nice way to end it and not hurt his feelings. He decided to save her. "It was awkward and uncomfortable and I'm really very sorry."

"It wasn't you. It was the…situation."

"Right." He nodded and walked the rest of the way in silence. When they reached his truck, he turned to her. "Again, I'm sorry." He glanced at the ground before looking back at her. "I don't know if you want to risk it, but maybe we can try this again, after everything blows over. I promise to cut back on the awkward moments."

She smiled softly at him. "I'd like that." He returned her smile and climbed into his truck.

There was a flurry of activity when he arrived at the scene. He walked through the casino and into the hotel. Brass was standing next to front desk, talking to the receptionist. He approached Brass. "Hey, what have we got?"

"Three DBs. Room 932. Grissom's up there."

Nick nodded and made his way to the elevator. When he opened the door to the room he was shocked. "Jesus Christ. What happened here?"

Grissom looked up at him. "Housekeeper entered the room to do a clean and found this. Sorry to have to call you in, but we need all hands, or in your case, hand, on deck."

Nick nodded while continuing to stare at the scene. He barely registered Grissom's words. Instead, he focused on the scene in front of him. Two young women were on their stomachs on the bed. Their heads were turned to the side, displaying their slit throats. The woman closest to the door had four vertical cuts running the length of her naked back. The woman next to her had five. A sheet covered the bottom half of their bodies. The scene was completed by the presence of a third body. In the middle of the room, a man was hanging from the ceiling. Nick coughed and shook his head. "Where, uh, where do you need me?"

"I need you to pull surveillance of the entrance to the casino, the hotel, the elevator, and see if they have surveillance of their halls. Take it back to the lab and go through it with Archie. I'll try to get you a time frame to look at."

"I'm on it." He turned quickly and exited the room. He stopped, momentarily in the hall to rest, placing his hand on the wall. All he could think about was how thankful he was to not have to process that hotel room."


Images of two people floated through her head as she walked through the casino. The first was Warrick. He hadn't left her thoughts in the last few days. The second person to invade her mind was Sam Braun. Everything about walking through his old casino, good and bad, reminded her of him. She wanted to shake the images away but Greg walking behind her, spouting facts she already knew about Old Vegas, made it impossible. She finally turned around to face him. "Greg, I am well aware of what my father did to build this, his first, casino. I don't need to be reminded." She quickened her pace to the room, Greg on her heels. She entered the room and stopped dead in her tracks causing Greg to bump into her. "Wow."

Grissom was photographing the bodies. She watched as he turned to her. "Catherine, Greg, I'm glad you're here. I just sent Nick off to check surveillance. Greg, I need you to print the elevators and the door handle outside the room. When you're done, you can head back to the lab to process the bodies. The day shift coroner should be here any minute. You can head back with him and the bodies."

"Jeremy? Does anyone else think he's really creepy?"

"Focus Greg. Catherine, you're in here with me."

Catherine shot Greg a sympathetic look as he left. She turned to Grissom. "Surveillance? Print the elevators? So you don't think it's murder-suicide; guy kills two women then hangs himself?"

"How would he have gotten up there Catherine? He's not close enough to either of the beds and the room chairs are all in their proper places around the table. He had nothing to step up on. He had to have had some help."

"Right." Her eyes moved about the room. "Is it just me, or does this room look immaculate, apart from the blood spatter and bodies? Everything is in it's proper place. The comforter to the bed the female vics are on is folded neatly in the corner. The other bed is made."

"Looks too perfect, doesn't it."

"It doesn't look like an occupied hotel room. It looks constructed." She moved around the room, snapping photos. Her camera found the hanging victim. After taking multiple shots, she put her camera down. "Victim was hung by a bed sheet. If he wasn't already dead, it wouldn't have been a quick death. Where did the sheet come from? Other bed perhaps?" She moved towards the perfectly made bed, and after taking numerous photos, she peeled back the comforter. "This bed's missing a sheet."

"So the killer steals the sheet then remakes the bed?"

"Whoever it is, they sure did a good job of remaking the bed." She began to scan for trace. "Present for semen."

She moved to look down at the two bodies on the other bed. Grissom moved to stand beside her. "Cath, what do you make of these cuts down their backs?"

"I don't know, markings? Four cuts then Five? Forty-five? Four precedes five; a tally maybe?"

"If it's a tally, then we have a serial killer. I'll ask Brass to do a check and see if there are any other crime scenes matching this one."

She nodded. "What about the man? Do you think we'll be looking at three, or maybe six cuts down his back?"

"I don't know. Somehow, I don't think so. He's fully clothed. The cuts along our female victims' backs are definitely on display. Look at how the sheet covers the bodies up to the cuts."

"We'll have to wait for the coroner before we can check for those marks, but I agree, I don't think we'll find any. But, why not? If it's a tally, then you'd think the killer would make the same marks and display them as well."

"Maybe the man wasn't part of the plans."

"Collateral damage?"

"Could be."

Catherine shook her head as she looked back up at their hanging victim. "How does somebody kill three people without anybody hearing anything? The man must have struggled before…"

"Holy, hell!"

Catherine turned to see the day shift coroner standing in the doorway. "Jeremy, you're here, great. We want to take a look at the man's back. Can we lower him down?"

"One minute."

She watched as the coroner examined the body from it's hanging position and make notes. When he was finished, they carefully lowered the body down. "Can you lift his shirt?" The coroner lifted the shirt for the CSIs. Catherine exchanged a glance with Grissom. "No cuts."

"No. Cath, take a look at this." Grissom pointed to a small amount of blood dried into the hair on the back of the man's skull.

"So he was knocked out, maybe killed first?"

"That could explain the lack of noise. The killer surprised him by striking him on the back of the head? It's hard to fight back when you're knocked out or dead. We'll have to get a cause of death from the medical examiner."

"Why hang him? If he wasn't already dead, why not slit his throat as well?"

"He has no marks on his back. The killer is separating him from the other victims."

She didn't respond as her focus shifted to the coroner. He was placing the bodies in body bags. "Did you get a TOD on the victims?"

"Liver temp suggests the two female DBs have been dead between 10 and eleven hours, the male DB, slightly less, about 10 hours.

She looked over at Grissom. "3 AM."

"I'll call Nick and give him a time frame to focus on."

Catherine nodded and watched as the coroner and his assistant wheeled the bodies out. Brass appeared in the doorway just as the coroner exited with the bodies. "Hey, room's registered to a Matt Klein. He booked it for one night – last night. I also talked to the maid. She said she knocked on the door and when there was no answer she figured they must have left without formally checking out. She opened the door and when she saw the scene, she freaked out and ran to her supervisor. She's still a little shaky."

"Can you blame her?" She was freaked when she saw the scene, even more so when she thought about it being Sam's first hotel.

Brass gave her a small smile. "No, I guess not."


He watched the coroner wheel the bodies through the hall and sighed. He looked back into the hotel room and watched as Catherine and Grissom continued to collect evidence. Their faces were focused on the task but he knew that they were hurting. He could see it in the way Catherine's shoulders slumped as she examined the cast off on the walls. He could see it every time Grissom stopped and shook his head after lifting each finger print.

With each movement they made, Brass felt a pang of sympathy. He'd never seen Catherine so defeated. He thoughts moved to Nick and his heart hurt. Every time he saw Nick, he saw an angry and lost man. It was unlike Nick and he hoped Nick could keep it together. He was worried about the effect this case would have on Nick and Catherine and hoped that it might serve as a distraction from other things, all the while, knowing it was just wishful thinking.

"Are you going Jim?" Jim looked over to Grissom. Grissom had asked him to search for similar scenes.

"Right, on my way." The hotel room, Warrick's murder, they weren't only effecting the night shift CSIs.

The search for similar crime scenes proved successful. He had found what Grissom was looking for. Seven months previous, swing shift investigated a scene where two women were killed in their hotel room. The first woman had one long cut down her back; the second had two. Two months ago, day shift had a case involving another young woman killed in a hotel. She had three cuts running down her back. All of the victims were young, Caucasian women. They all had their throats slit, all killed in a hotel room and all found by the cleaning staff the next day.

Brass picked up his cell phone and hit the speed dial. "Grissom, we have a serial."


It was late into evening by the time Grissom and Catherine arrived back at the lab. He dropped off his evidence on the way to his office before flopping down on his chair and resting a few minutes. He needed to clear his head. That idea was lost when he looked down to see that Brass had dropped several files on his desk. He opened the files and slowly looked through them, grimacing when he noticed where the third victim was killed.

The team was waiting for him in the conference room. He took a moment to study them from the doorway. They sat, looking utterly drained of energy. He moved to the table and dropped the files. He opened the first one. "We have a serial. First victim was Tessa Gerard, age 22. Her throat was slit in her Four Aces hotel room seven months ago. She had one long cut running the length of her back. Second victim was Hillary Gerard, age 28. She was Tessa Gerard's older sister. They were killed together. Hillary Gerard had two vertical cuts running the length of her back." He left the file open in the middle of the table, giving the team a peek over an overview photo of the crime scene. He opened a second file. "Third victim was Carly Jones, age 32. Her throat was slit in her Golden Spike hotel room two months ago. Three vertical cuts ran the length of her back. He set the file down on the table open. "Victims four and five are our victims from last night."

He waited for the team to look at the various photos before continuing. "The killer slits their throats, poses their bodies and then marks their backs. The first three victims were raped. No semen was found and the CSIs investigating noted that the rapes were probably object rapes. Raped then posed? Greg, any evidence of rape on victims four and five?"

"Yes, they were raped. There was semen in the first…sorry, fourth victim, but none in the fifth victim. Another object rape?"

"Wait, how come the first two sets of murders weren't connected before now?"

Grissom looked over at Nick and sighed. "Swing covered the first murder, days the second."

"What about media coverage? Didn't anyone recognize the similarities?"

"Do you remember the media coverage from either of those murders?" When Nick looked at him dumbstruck, he continued. "There was a five month span between the first two sets of murder. Dayshift didn't find it, we did, so now we have a serial to investigate."

"So where does victim six, the man, fit in?"

His eyes shot to Greg. "Matt Klein. He doesn't. The killer didn't mark him. I don't think the killer is counting him. Our killer targets young women, slim, above average height. The man was, in all probability, not in his plans."

"If Matt Klein wasn't in his plans, maybe he got sloppy."

"One can hope." He paused and moved his eyes around the table, stopping at each criminalist. "Familiarize yourselves with these files while you are waiting on your results. If you need me, I'll be in the morgue with Dr. Bryant."

Three hours later, he found them in the break room, hovering over the coffee pot. "Hey." Three sets of tired faces looked at him. "Are your results in yet?"

"Some of them."

He waited as they filled their cups and headed to the conference room. "Dr. Bryant gave me COD for Matt Klein. Cause of death was asphyxiation."

"So he did die by hanging?"

"Yes. What have the rest of you got?"

Nick sat up straight. "Archie and I pulled surveillance. There are no hall cameras so we can't tell who came in and out of the hotel room. There were lots of people entering and exiting the elevators. Six sets of people got off on the ninth floor between 2 and 3 AM. Here are the stills."

Grissom picked up the photos Nick threw onto the middle of the table. "These two are our female victims."

"Yeah, they went up at 2:20."

"This one is our male DB."

"He went up at 2:56."

"Consistent with time of death. He was killed right after he got there." Grissom studied the other photos. "This one." He passed the photo to Nick. "There's no visual on the face."

"Yeah, we couldn't get one."

"Did he ride the elevator back down?"

"No. In fact, nobody did until 4:22. Two couples rode it down at that time. I don't think the killer took the elevator down."

"No, but he could have used it on the way up." He turned to Greg. "What have you got?"

"The elevator mostly contained smudges. The usable prints I did find didn't register anything in AFIS. As for the bodies, semen found in our fourth victim belonged to Matt Klein. There weren't any defensive wounds on our victims, but I did scrape their fingernails. There was a small white substance found under our fifth victim's nail. I sent it to trace. It came back latex, the kind used to make rubber gloves."

"So the killer was wearing gloves? Any DNA on it?"

"Only the victim's."

"Okay. Catherine, anything to add?"

"Semen and vaginal fluid on the sheet used to hang Matt Klein belonged to Matt Klein and victim four."

"The killer remade the bed they slept in? That's weird. Is it just me, or does Vegas have an overly high rate of serial killers. I mean, look at all the ones you investigated before I became a CSI, then, last year, Natalie Davis, now this."

Grissom shot Greg a dirty look. He watched as the young CSI mouthed a quiet, "Sorry."

Grissom sighed and checked his watch. "Alright, we'll go through the rest of the results in the morning. Be here by ten." He watched the team disperse before heading to his office. He kept the lights out as he phoned home. "Hey Sara, sorry if I woke you…we have a serial. I'm going to catch a quick sleep on the sofa here tonight." He ended his call and laid back in the dark office.

His sleep came in fits. Between his sofa and his thoughts drifting to Sara, he only managed a few hours. After waking the fourth time, he sat up and moved to his desk, turning on his desk lamp. He began looking through the files again.

An hour later, he heard a soft knock on the door. He stood up and opened it, coming face to face with Catherine. "Good morning Gil." He watched her eyes scan him and his office. She eyed him suspiciously. "Did you sleep here?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Blanket and pillow on the sofa, same cloths as yesterday, ruffled hair. It's fairly obvious."

"What are you doing here so early?"

"I came after dropping Lindsay off at school."

"Oh."

He moved back around his desk and sat back down. Brass appeared next to Catherine in the doorway. "Hey Catherine. Gil, I've got an id on the two female victims." Gil raised his eyebrows and waited for Brass to continue. "Our fourth victim is Anna DeVarney, age 25. She was engaged to Matt Klein. Our fifth victim was her best friend, Naomi Smyth, also age 25. Matt Klein and Anna DeVarney were set to get married on Saturday. Klein booked the hotel room for his bride to be and her best friend for the bachelorette party."

"If it was for her bachelorette party, then why did Klein go up to the room?"

"Apparently the two parties were supposed to meet. Her friends joined the bachelor party, but she never showed. Klein's friends say he got worried and tried to call her to make sure everything was alright. When he couldn't get a hold of her, he decided to go up to the room. Her friends told him that she mentioned making a quick stop at the hotel room before joining them. Phone records confirm Klein called DeVarney. He made three calls, each lasting about a minute, just long enough to leave a message."

"Thanks Jim."

He looked back down at the files. He noticed Catherine move from the doorway to the seat across from him. He looked up at her. "Gil, go take a shower, change, get something to eat before everybody gets here." He nodded and as he left, he heard Catherine whisper to Brass, "I really wish he'd work things out with Sara."


He was in the layout room when Ecklie found him. "Gil, can I see you in my office?" He followed Ecklie, hoping the man had some news about Warrick's murder.

Once inside the office, he took a seat across from Ecklie. "Well, Conrad?"

"Warrick's funeral service is set for 11 AM at St Michael's.

"I'll let the team know. Is that it?"

He tensed as he watched Ecklie sigh. "No. We haven't found anything new on the investigation into his murder. Cases are backing up. I have to put it away for now."

"What?" Grissom stood up quickly. His chair fell backwards with his movement. "You can't stop the investigation."

"I have no choice, Gil. We don't have any evidence. Until we get some, I have to put it away."

"I can't let Warrick's case become a cold one."

"It was cold as soon as it began. The Under Sheriff feels that we've wasted enough time on this, and I have to agree with his. There's nothing there and we need people on other cases. You just got that serial."

He began pacing back and forth, trying to quell his rising anger. "Grave is all back, handling the serial. We need you to handle Warrick's murder."

"There's nothing there, Grissom."

"Find something."

"Gil, we've drawn blanks on the names you provided, we've drawn blanks on the financials, there are no witnesses. The only trace on the body belongs to members of your team, a hair from Catherine, the rest of the trace, from Nick Stokes. Blood and GSR on Stokes's shirt and hands. If you want me to go after someone, the logical place to start would be Nick Stokes."

"Small amounts of blood and GSR on Nick, from transfer."

"I know and he was in the diner when the shots were fired. I'm not suggesting Stokes did this. I'm saying we have very little evidence on this case, and the evidence we do have belongs to a witness, not a suspect. We're at a dead end."

Grissom turned to Ecklie and narrowed his eyes. "What ever happened to getting the guys who killed people in law enforcement?"

"Look, we all want to get whoever is involved, but if we continued wasting the county's money beating a dead horse, it's going to have repercussions. It's a political nightmare all around. Your serial case just emerged and it won't be long before the media gets a hold of it. We can't look like we're putting one case ahead of another. We can't prioritize the victims."

"You do that all the time. Excuse me if I happen to think the death of a colleague is a priority. Grave is handling the serial. There are four of us on it. Surely no one can suggest that the lab is putting Warrick's death ahead of those five dead women."

"If we continue to pour resources into a dead end, they might."

"You don't think that people will want to see some closure on Warrick's case?"

"They will." Ecklie paused. Grissom leaned against the wall, waiting for Ecklie to continue. "Which is why we have to appear we have gotten somewhere with Warrick's case. We're going to release Officer Daniel Pritchard's name. The DA and the Under Sheriff have suggested that Pritchard may have shot Warrick in an attempt to tie up loose ends before completely disappearing."

"Did anyone see Pritchard on Friday?"

"No, but Warrick was shot in a dark alley. Who's to say Pritchard didn't hide in the alley and shoot Warrick?"

"You have no evidence to support that."

"Please, Grissom. Pritchard is wanted for questioning in the death of Lou Gedda, a murder which Warrick was framed for. That certainly connects Pritchard to Warrick's murder."

Grissom pushed himself off the wall. He took a deep breath and spoke his next words slowly. "You know someone higher up is involved."

"I don't know who, though. I am continuing to keep the evidence confidential until we figure out who all is involved. Until then, Pritchard is all we've got. I'm going to release Pritchard's name in connection and put away Warrick's case. I'm sorry, Gil.If we get leads on Pritchard, or any new evidence comes in, we can open it up again."

Grissom's pulse was racing. He glared at Ecklie. "This is complete bullshit, Ecklie." He turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him. He could hear the glass break from the force.

Ecklie caught up to him and stopped his movements. "Grissom, I should suspend you for that."

"In the middle of a serial case? You won't."

"No, but you are going to pay for that."

"Take it out of my salary." He brushed by Ecklie and stormed out of the lab.

Sara was reading on the sofa when he arrived home. He sat down next to her and placed his head in his hands. He felt her hand come up and gently squeeze the back of his neck a couple of times. "Rough case?"

"Horrible."

"I thought you'd be at the lab, working on it. I didn't think I'd see you until late today."

"I had to get away for awhile."

He felt her other hand move up to his shoulder. He turned and leaned into her hands, allowing her to massage his neck and shoulders. "That feels really good."

"Good. What happened at the lab that sent you running home?"

"Ecklie is releasing inconclusive information to the media and dropping Warrick's case."

"No? Why?"

Grissom closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of Sara's hands. "No evidence, other cases piling up, politics." He sighed. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

Sara began rubbing soothing circles on his back. He turned to look at her, placing his arm around her shoulder and drawing her to him. "At least you're here. At least I have you." He felt Sara tense at his words. "Sara, what is it?"

He studied her as she shook her head. "Don't worry about it right now."

"No, tell me."

"I made plans to fly back to San Francisco on Saturday."

He dropped his arm quickly and swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "Saturday?" She nodded.

"I should have known. You came back for Warrick's funeral. I knew you weren't here to stay." He looked away, choosing to focus his gaze on his hands.

He felt her hand move to rest on his thigh. He looked down at it. "Gil, I have to finish what I started." He stood up quickly and walked to the door. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the lab."

"You just got here."

"I know, but I can't stay. I can't be here right now. I have work to do."

He stopped in his tracks as he heard her plead. "Please, stay, get some rest."

He looked at her and shook his head. "I can't. I'm sorry. I don't have time. I'll see you later."

He practically ran to his car, throwing himself into the driver's seat. He put the key in the ignition, but stopped. He gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead, wondering how everything had gotten to out of control.