A/N: needless to say, this has been a long time coming. My computer crashed, among other things, and I've begun to write again recently. Any and all reviews/encouragement are welcome/needed. ;o) It's short, I know, but I pray this is ok.
As soon as he reached his destination Greg began to regret offering to do the dumpster dive in downtown Charleston.
Sure, there was a college nearby, but the dumpster was hardly in the heart of college town. No, this was more like the slums. There was a homeless shelter about four blocks away. A condemned building sat to the left of the parking lot where the dumpster was located.
Some uniforms were still patrolling the area, but Greg found that he was otherwise alone. He pulled some bags from the top of the heap in the dumpster and decided that it might be better to get an inside look.
After dragging a crate over to get enough leverage he leaned over to get a preliminary look at the inside of the dumpster. The pungent smell emanating off the walls was enough to make him gag through his mask. He backed out of the sliding door in the side and grabbed a flashlight and a pair of tweezers before ducking back in. This particular dumpster was rife with evidence. Grissom was going to be so proud.
After very little digging the CSIs discovered that Emily spent very little time away from three main places. While the guys took care of the work angle, Catherine- the family, and Greg took the dump site, Grissom and Sara went on to pursue the only other place Emily frequented: her church.
The building, or buildings rather, sat in an historic part of town called the "Old Village". Deciding to forego the more eloquent and much older looking building, the pair instead walked through the large glass doors to the structure labeled 'Ministry Center'.
"You already know?"
Sara glanced questioningly at Grissom before turning back to the man seated before them.
"Yeah, um…news kind of travels fast around here. Old ladies who thrive on gossip have nothing on our prayer tree. Emily was well loved—it's a huge shock to all of us. If there's anything anyone here can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask." He paused before continuing, "I mean, there must be some questions you have, or you wouldn't be here—am I right?"
"We're just trying to get an idea of her background: any unusual circumstances that may have surrounded her, any enemies?"
"No. Certainly not around here-and none that I know of."
Scanning the room Grissom continued the inquiry: "What was her capacity here? I mean, why would a 24 year old girl spend a third or more of her time at church?"
The man behind the desk smiled widely.
"Drums," he replied.
"Well, drums and Year Team," he corrected.
Sara's forehead scrunched as this new information failed to make sense. "Drums and year team?"
"She was a drummer here. Very talented. She was very musical." He paused and handed her a CD before continuing, "she wrote track 4."
Sara turned the CD over. "Ok, that explains drums, but what is year team?"
"It's like a class. A course. There are teachings, opportunities to practice…but I'm the music guy. If you want to know more you should talk to Todd, I'm sure he'd be more than willing to talk to you. Like I said, we're all very taken aback at this whole situation."
Eventually they all met back at the morgue where they'd set up temporary shop in a wind that was being renovated and was currently not being used.
As they began to compare notes and share their various experiences in Charleston thus far, Emily's story began to unfold…
A/N: ahem... reviews?