Nick sat on the curb, ignoring the people all around him. He ignored the flashing lights of the police cars and the cameras of the reporters and news crews all over. He ignored the voices and noises that everyone was making. He ignored all this and concentrated on the one thing that would not leave his mind no matter how hard he tried to make it go away.
Jack Miller was dead.
Nick couldn't quite comprehend it. The only person he had been able to trust his entire life was dead. The only person he had had contact with consistently throughout his life was gone, forever. Nick felt like someone had ripped his heart out and shot it along with Jack. He wished he hadn't been frozen to the spot as long as he had been, staring at Jack's still, lifeless form. He couldn't get that image out of his head now and wished that instead he had called the police right away and ran out of the house to where he was now. But he figured it didn't matter anyway because seeing it once was enough for it to be burned into his memory, able to come up whenever it pleased.
Tears were starting to sting Nick's eyes again when he felt someone standing behind him. He didn't turn around or look to see who it was. He really didn't have to. He knew it was going to be one of three people, and his best guess as to who it was turned out to be the right guess.
Brass walked around Nick and knelt in front of him, putting his hands firmly on the younger man's arms. Nick looked up and Brass, his tears finally spilling from his eyes slowly. Brass looked at him in the eye with a look of empathy and compassion, one that Nick rarely saw from the police captain.
"I'm sorry Nicky," Brass said genuinely. "I know this is tough for you, but I need to take your statement."
"I'm afraid you can't," a voice from off to Nick's left said.
Nick and Brass both looked at the other man standing next to them. Nick didn't recognize him, but Brass apparently did because he sighed in frustration and hung his head.
"I'm the captain," Brass said. "That means I can do whatever the hell I want Resscol."
Resscol shook his head and extended his arm, handing Brass a signed piece of paper. "Special orders from the DA and FBI director. I've been handling the majority of the Sparazza case, and my superiors wants me on this. You have conflict of interest with Mr. Sparazza here, anyway." Brass frowned, so Resscol added, "I know that Nick here is Jimmy Sparazza's son, everyone knows that."
"And everyone knows that Sparazza killed your partner and you're looking for some revenge, probably on Nick. You can't set out on a vendetta mission Resscol," Brass said.
"What does this have to do with me anyway?" Nick asked.
Resscol scoffed. "Not only was my partner killed by your scumbag father, but then his right hand man is killed, only to be found by his son, now second in command? Come on Nick, you're the number one suspect right now."
"I didn't kill him," Nick said defensively.
"We'll handle this at the station," Resscol said. "Right now, CSI Sanders is going to test you for GSR."
Nick and Brass both stood slowly as Greg walked over tentatively. He looked scared and nervous and like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world than where he was right now. He kept his eyes on the ground and stood next to Resscol, who had a satisfied look on his face.
"Why are you making Greg do this?" Brass asked.
"Because he's not Brown, who's Sparazza's best friend," Resscol answered.
"My last name is Stokes," Nick corrected. "Sparazza refers to either Mike or James."
Resscol rolled his eyes. "Either way, Greg is the most impartial, even though he works with you."
"I'm still good friends with him," Greg chimed in, looking up at Resscol. "I don't want to find him guilty of something."
"That's why I'm here," Resscol said. "To make sure that if you do find something, you'll report it as it is and not try to get Nick out of anything. Now test for GSR so I can take him back to the station to question him."
Greg reluctantly took Nick's right hand in his and dabbed it with the pad. He repeated this with the other hand before holding them out in front of him and adding a few drops of the solution to the pads, turning them a dark purple. Greg, Brass and Nick stared at the purple pads in Greg's hands, telling them that Nick tested positive for gun shot residue.
Nick opened his mouth to say something, but Resscol cut him off. "You can try and explain at the station," he said menicingly.
Nick hung his head as Brass lead him to his police cruiser nearby, putting him in and then driving away quickly before anyone else at the scene noticed. Nick stared down at his hands resting in his lap the entire ride, not cating as much as he should have that he was the prime suspect in a murder - again. He couldn't think about that. All he could think about was who could have killed Jack. The same person kept flashing through his mind, and everytime it did he got more and more scared.
Nick knew all too well what Resscol was trying to do. He was trying to ice him, make him freak out and be on edge. Nick had been sitting by himself in the interrogation room for close to thee hours. He knew what was going on, he did this kind of thing all the time. They were building their case against him. They were getting his fingerprints, DNA, and whatever else they could find from Jack's house. He knew they were finding what could be incriminating evidence against him, and he couldn't bring himself to care about that right now.
Nick knew that the reason Jack was dead was the flash drive in his pocket. He knew that the information that that drive contained was enough to put James and everyone who had ever worked with him away for several life sentences. He knew that, and he knew that someone else knew that. Someone else found out that Jack had had this information and went after him for it. Nick knew it was only a matter of time before someone found out that he had it and they came after him.
Deep down, Nick knew who had killed Jack. One person stood out, but Nick tried not to believe it. It made him sick to his stomach, but at the same time made the most sense and he knew it. Nick knew that the odds were in favor of Jack's killer being James Sparazza. He was the closest to Jack after Nick and Mike and he would have been able to figure out if Jack had had anything on him. He would have tried to take care of it himself and not tell anyone else for fear that they might try to use the information themselves to get themselves out of jail time.
Nick knew that James had killed Jack. He was sure of it. But how was he going to prove it?
The Texan forced himself to focus on the task at hand when Resscol came into the room, carrying with him a folder stuffed with papers. Nick of course knew what they were, and sat back, getting ready for what he knew was coming.
Resscol laid all the papers out in front of Nick before sitting down across from him. "I know I don't have to explain to you what these mean," he said. "You're a good CSI, you know what this means."
Nick nodded. "It means you think I killed Jack."
"You're still trying to tell me you didn't?" Resscol asked.
"I'd be lying if I tried to tell you anything different," Nick answered.
"You realize that this is not a joke, correct?" Resscol said. "You're about to be charged with the murder of a mobster that works for your father. Do you understand how serious this is?"
"I fully understand," Nick replied. "The only person I've been able to trust for my entire life is dead, and you think I'm responsible. In all honesty and with due respect, I don't think you understand."
"Oh I understand," Resscol said. "I understand that we found GSR on your hands. I understand that we found your fingerprints at Jack's house and on his body. I understand the we found your gun at the scene, with your prints on it, and that the bullets taken from Jack's body came from the gun that you fired."
"You're wrong," Nick said simply.
"Well, unfortunately for you, the DA agrees with me and not you. Given your past and repuatation, this isn't looking too good for you Nick."
Nick shook his head slowly. "You're still wrong."
Resscol stood abruptly, but was inturrpted from whatever he was about to do or say by the door opening and Brass coming in. Resscol froze and glared at Brass, who had to try very hard not to roll his eyes.
"While you're on the phone getting your arrest warrant, I'd like to speak with Nick, and so would his colleagues," Brass said.
"I don't think that that's a very go-" Resscol started, but Brass cut him off.
"I don't give a damn what you think. I'm a police officer, he can remain in my custody while you secure your warrant," Brass said as he walked over to Nick and took his arm. "We'll be in the break room if you need us."
Brass lead Nick out of the interrogation room and into the break room, where Grissom, Catherine, Warrick and Greg were awaiting them. They all stood when Nick and Brass entered, but none of them said anything. Catherine had tears in her eyes, Greg was staring at the floor and Grissom and Warrick were staring at Nick.
"I didn't do it guys," Nick said.
Warrick nodded. "We know."
"But it doesn't matter," Grissom said.
"He's right," Brass said before anyone could argue. He turned to Nick. "So give me something. Give me an alibi that'll take a couple hours to disprove. Lie to me, I don't care. Buy yourself some time."
Nick knew he couldn't give them the zip disk without James finding out he had had it. If he did that, he was dead. If he told them, he was dead. He couldn't think of anything else to do. He had to go through with this, he couldn't try to give up now. He wasn't going to lay down and die. He had to do what most people wouldn't consider to be the right thing."
Brass looked over Nick's shoulder and saw Resscol heading towards them, warrant in hand and a small smile on his face. He knew it was going to be that quick, so he tried one last time to help Nick.
"Come on," Brass almost begged. "Give me something kid."
Resscol had just entered the break room and came to a stop next to Brass. Brass didn't look at him though, and neither did Nick. All Nick did was extend his arms, wrists together, his hands closed into fists knuckles up. Resscol reached for his handcuffs, but Brass grabbed his arm.
"It's not your job to arrest him," he said.
"I think it is," Resscol argued.
"You're not arresting him," Brass said. "I'll take care of it."
Resscol nodded slightly and left the room, waiting for them outside. Brass turned to Nick and stared at him again, but all the other man did was raise his wrists to Brass. Brass clenched his jaw as he took out his cuffs, then slipped the cold metal over Nick's warm wrists. Without looking at anyone else in the room, they silently left and walked towards Resscol, who couldn't have looked happier.
"We're keeping him in a holding cell, by himself," Brass said. "Maybe someone will post his bail."
"It's a million dollars," Resscol said. "I doubt it."
"It's happened before," Brass said, and Nick knew what he was doing.
"It doesn't matter," Resscol said. "He's still being dismissed as CSI."
"Thanks," Brass said sarcastically. "We know that. Now if you don't mind, I've got it from here."
Brass lead Nick down the hallways and to the holding cells, which were all vacant. He brought him to the secluded one in the back, where he took off the handcuffs and gently pushed Nick inside. The other officer there locked the cell door, leaving Brass on the other side.
"I know what I'm doing," Nick said.
"I know that you've got this all planned out," Brass said sadly. "But planning big can be a gamble."
Nick smiled and tilted his head slightly to the side as he always does. "I've already rolled the dice."
I posted this chapter at a bad time; shortly after the season finale in which a similar thing happens to Warrick. I didn't intend this or 'copy' that, I had already written this and couldn't get it posted till today. At any rate, I hope you're enjoying this story. I'll have the next chapter up shortly.