Greg looked on warily as Grissom walked into the break room, followed closely by Nick and Brass. Nick was carrying a case file in his hand, and Brass had his hands clasped in front of him.
Grissom looked grim, and it didn't help that his two companions looked equally bleak. Greg looked past them to the hall, where Catherine and Sara stood, their expressions mirroring the men standing before the group gathered around him.
The voices of the crowd that had been ringing in Greg's ears for thirty minutes suddenly grew quiet, a sign that Grissom's presence had been noticed. Greg immediately dialed the phone, connecting with Hodges and Wendy almost immediately, but struggled to get Henry into the conversation as well. After a moment, he gave up and dialed Henry's cell phone, putting it on speaker before placing it on the table with the office phone.
"Is everything all set, Greg?" Grissom was watching him, his expression the same as when he'd walked in.
"Yeah," he said quickly.
"Hodges, Wendy, Henry, can all of you hear me?" Grissom said, enunciating each word without the condescension that normally accompanied it.
"Loud and clear, Gris," came Wendy's voice.
The men rattled off similar answers, and the room fell silent once more.
"All of you are probably wondering why I'm here," Grissom began, his gaze shifting around the room. Greg knew what he was doing: reading everyone's face to find the best way to go about saying what he was there to say. Greg had seen him do it dozens of times with suspects. "A few days ago, someone vandalized Catherine's car. Nick processed the car for anything they may have left behind."
"I dusted the driver's door for prints," Nick interjected, passing the folder over to one of the new lab techs, who opened it to view the contents. "I found a full handprint to the left of a carving the suspect etched into the door. I brought it to Mandy to run as soon as she got a chance. She got a hit almost immediately."
"Who did it belong to?" Ray Langston asked, flipping through the folder that was now in his possession. Greg hadn't known if Catherine wanted him to involve Ray, but he'd asked him to come, just in case.
Nick glimpsed at Ray quickly, then returned his gaze to the crowd. "Nick Gedda."
The room began to buzz with quiet chatter, the shock of the announcement sinking in. Greg remained silent, confusion overwhelming him.
What did all of this even mean?
"For those of you who weren't with the lab," Grissom started, "three and a half years ago, Warrick Brown--one of our CSIs at the time--became involved with a very dangerous man: Lou Gedda. Gedda used the strip club he owned to cover up some nasty secrets. We had no evidence to prove any of it, so the case went cold.
"Warrick started investigating the case on his own, getting more and more obsessed with finding proof to take Gedda down. Unfortunately, he got too involved, and Gedda used a homeless man to attempt to frame Warrick for murder. Joanna Krumsky was found dead in Warrick's truck, and because of some bad decisions, the case didn't seem likely to turn out in his favor.
"After a two week suspension, Warrick came back to the lab, and seemed to have given up on Gedda. A month a half later, though, Gedda was murdered, and Warrick was found at the scene, barely conscious. Once again, he had been framed, this time by Daniel Pritchard. He was a dirty cop that turned out to be a hired hand for Jeffrey McKeen, the undersheriff at the time.
"I want you all to understand that what we did next was to keep everyone safe. The less people who knew about it, the better, because it couldn't be used against any of you. Unfortunately, a wild card entered the situation, leaving everyone at risk."
"What are you talking about? What don't we know? And how does Nick Gedda figure into all of this?" The words rushed from Greg's lips, the confusion plain in his voice.
"He wants revenge for his father's death," Grissom said simply.
"Pritchard and McKeen are dead," Greg stated. "Who could he possibly be targeting that would put any of us in danger?"
Waving to Catherine and Sara, Grissom turned back to Greg. "I think it would be better if I just showed you."
Heaving a sigh of frustration, Greg simply stared at his former boss incredulously. It was only when the door to the break room opened that he looked away, and without thinking, he practically shouted, "What the fuck?"
Catherine remained outside the break room as Warrick entered, flinching when Greg let out an exclamation that represented his surprise. She searched the faces of the crowd, and while some were frozen with shock, Ray Langston and Michelle Traweek--the newest CSI--looked on in confusion, along with the lab techs that recently joined the lab.
"Could either of you explain to me why Greg Sanders is shouting? They probably heard him over in Pahrump." Catherine whirled to see Conrad Ecklie walking down the hall, his face contorted in a look of surprise and professional curiosity.
"Ah, um..." Catherine stammered. Her normal eloquence was absent, and she shook her head to clear it. When it did nothing to bring order to her jumbled thoughts, she simply gestured to the break room with a surprisingly steady hand.
"What's this all about, Catherine?"
He fixed her with a perplexed glare, and she sighed in resignation. "Just look. It's better that way. I'll just stumble over any explanation I try to give you."
Eyeing Catherine warily, Ecklie passed her and Sara slowly. He pulled opened the door to the break room, his gaze still fixed on Catherine, only looking away when he crossed the threshold into the room.
"How do you think he's going to react?" Sara asked, a shadow of a grin touching her thin lips.
"Honestly?" Catherine asked, turning to her companion. Uncertainty creased lines into her smooth skin. "I have no idea."
"What the hell is going on here?"
Grissom held back the groan that was threatening to release at the familiar voice echoing from behind him. "Hello, Conrad." He turned and came face to face with an almost frightened looking undersheriff. It was the first time Grissom had seen something other than pompous satisfaction in Ecklie's expression since the investigation into Warrick's 'death'.
It was a moment before Ecklie spoke again. "Either I'm seeing a ghost, or a CSI that's been dead three years has mysteriously come back to life." He echoed his words from earlier, "What the hell is going on?"
"Well, if you had been here on time, you would know what was going on, wouldn't you?" Grissom stifled a chuckle at the expressions of incredulity and impatience warring on Ecklie's face as he struggled for a response. When it looked as if the climax of the battle was ready to explode--no doubt leading to some inane retort--Grissom delved into a cliff notes version of the speech he'd just given to the rest of the room.
Greg sat silently, sure his anger was clear on his face. He didn't get angry often, but at the moment, he was steaming pissed. He didn't hear what Grissom said to them when he diverted his attention from Ecklie. He simply stared at Warrick, resisting the urge to cry out, scream until he was blue in the face, or simply kill the bastard himself.
No... no, that was the last thing he wanted to do. Wave after wave of relief was washing over him at the sight of his old friend, dousing the flames of subdued ire into flickering embers of frustration.
Within moments, everyone started shuffling around him, and he realized that Grissom had exited into the hallway to join Catherine and Sara. Their faces showed solemnity and concern as they stared into the break room. Catherine looked at Greg, giving him an apologetic half smile, and the last of his resentment faded away.
When he looked around to the people who had remained in the room, he saw Brass, Nick, Mandy, and Archie gathered around Warrick. A few feet behind the rest, he saw Ray and Michelle, and he wondered what had made them stay. They simply stayed back in the shadows, watching as the other five reunited with their lost colleague and friend.
Realizing he was one of those five, Greg forced himself to take a deep breath, then walked over to Warrick.