Sara's cell phone chirped, startling the CSI, who was researching toxins in the lab.
"Sidle,"
Sara, it's Grissom, did you find the source of Tetrodetoxin yet?
"Still working on it Griss," She replied, sighing, she had been looking for two hours.
I've done a little research; it comes from Puffer fish and the Blue-Ringed Octopus. Does the vic live near the ocean, or have any unusual pets?
"Partner works at the Las Vegas Sea World Facility,"
You may want to interview him again; they are trained to remove the venom from their poisonous animals.
"Thanks Griss," She was smiling, she was always surprised at how far ahead Grissom always was on their cases. She ended the call, and called Greg, whom she arranged to meet at the Tahoe. Walking towards him, she could tell he was ready to fall asleep.
"I saw a corpse on Dr. Robbins' table with more life than you today Greg," She laughed, as the younger CSI nudged her in the arm and glared at her. She caught his eye, her smile not quite reaching her own eyes. Greg smiled back at her, putting his arms around her. They stayed this way for no more than a beat, and then Sara hurriedly unlocked the Tahoe. Her cheeks were burning, a secret smile playing on her lips. Greg hopped into the passenger side of the car and looked at his watch. Another six hours on shift. Sara looked at him, sympathy in her eyes; punishing hours at the beginning of CSI level one were hard, much harder than the lab work Greg was used to. She stroked his cheek, before starting the Tahoe. Sara drove the several side streets and main roads carefully, more so as not to wake Greg, who was fast asleep next to her.
She pulled in to the Las Vegas Sea World Facility car park, which was deserted. Sara thought this was strange as it was only 4pm; this place was always open until 8pm at least on a Monday. Greg stirred and groaned,
"Not again," Sara smiled,
"You may be off the hook, looks like the place is closed,"
"Closed? On a Monday?" Greg replied, puzzled.
"That's what I'm thinking, someone doesn't want to talk to us," Sara's eyes narrowed at the closed sign in the window.
"We can't go poking around Sara, we don't have a warrant," Greg warned, as Sara slipped a latex glove onto her hand.
"Plain sight we can," She smiled wryly. Greg rolled his eyes and put on some gloves. They walked around the perimeter, making sure as not to touch anything that may be thrown out of court due to an unlawful search. They came across a large dumpster, full to the brim with rubbish, and a syringe on the floor next to it.
"We should take some pictures, document this, then call Brass, get him to hit up a judge," Sara said, taking multiple shots of the syringe and minute blood pool next to it. They also noticed a tiny piece of fabric caught on the barbed wire fence at the top of the wall which surrounded the building.
"Yeah, I'll call Brass, see if he can put out a BOLO on Mr Dawson's vehicle and see where he has gotten to," Greg plucked his cell phone from his belt, and dialled. He waited a good two minutes before he got an answer.
Brass
"Brass it's Greg, it looks like Michael Dawson has skipped town. The Las Vegas Sea World Facility is closed and his green Golf GT is missing," he said,
Ok I'll put out a BOLO on his car and try to get an address for you.
"Can you get us a warrant for the Sea World Facility? Sara and I found some evidence in plain sight and photographed it, but we need a warrant to collect it,"
Sure thing Sanders, just don't touch anything until I get there with your warrant,
"Got it," Greg replied, before hanging up the phone.
"Brass said he'd try to find us an address for our Houdini and put out a BOLO on his car, he's working on a warrant too," He shouted to Sara. She smiled widely,
"Great," she replied, wryly. Sara finished off photographing the scene, including some tire treads which she pointed out to Greg, who looked puzzled.
"The guy was burning some serious rubber here, looking at these treads he was in a hurry," She observed her eyes narrowed. They heard a car pull up and turned to see who it was. Brass climbed out of his Ford Taurus. The stocky detective strode over to the two waiting CSI's.
"Someone order a warrant?" he asked, before shoving the paper into Sara's gloved hand.
"Any luck tracing the guy?" Greg asked.
"Not yet, no reports back on the BOLO either. Guy's probably skipped town and that says only one word to me: guilty," Brass chuckle dryly. With the warrant in their hands, they could now recover evidence found on the site. Sara walked back to the dumpster, picking up the syringe with a gloved hand. It still had a trace amount of liquid inside it.
"We should send this to Tox, see if we can match the poison to this unknown liquid," Sara said, more to herself than anyone else. She carefully printed the plunger and tube of the syringe, ready for comparison back at the lab. Greg was deep in thought.
"Do you think this place could be our primary crime scene?" he asked.
"Maybe inside, there isn't a vast amount of proof to support that it was committed here," she replied. She swabbed the blood pool next to the dumpster, to test against the victim back at the lab. She gently tweezed the tiny piece of fabric from the fence and after sealing it in her kit, returned to where Greg and Brass were standing.
"Lets get this back to the lab, run some tests and see if we can make any sense of this," Sara said, a small smile playing on her lips. Brass gave her a look as if to say 'You had me drive all the way here just for that?' Sara and Greg walked back to the Tahoe, Sara securing the evidence in the back seat, before climbing into the driver's side. She turned the key in the ignition and put on her seatbelt before looking at her watch. Two hours left on shift, Greg would be so pleased it was nearly over, and truth be told, so would she. Her eyes were weary as she made the trip back to the lab, her thoughts wandering to other places. Greg stared motionless out of the window. It had been so much harder these last few months, not that day shift was robbing them of the only time they have left. Her body clock was all over the place, she was so used ti night shifts, and this was such a shock to her system. She could see it was catching up with Greg too.
"You okay Greg?" She asked, concern etched into her face.
"Yeah, I'll be fine, I just have to sleep soon, I can't concentrate and I'm fighting to stay awake," he sighed and yawned.
They parked up outside the lab and got out of the Tahoe. Sara pulled the collected evidence out of the back and locked the door. It was now 7pm as Sara checked her watch, the sun only just beginning to set as it was still summer. They walked into the building towards the trace/analysis lab, and set down their collected evidence on the assembly table. Sara reached for the bag with the syringe in it and smiled when she saw Greg's hand upon her own. He didn't move away, more held on tighter as she turned to face him. Those next few moments were and abundance of nervous laughter and sheer closeness.
Sara put her arms around Greg's neck, softly urging him closer to her. He looked deep into her eyes, forgetting for a moment where they were. His hands gently brushed her cheek, he could feel her breathing, her heart beating.
"We should, um, probably get this evidence logged and tested…" Sara said, her voice barely above a whisper, her longing to hold him, screaming from her heart.
"Hmmm," Greg murmured, that same longing burning through his veins but not raging passion. It was a longing to hold her, touch her and lay with her in his arms. Sara kissed him on the cheek and the evidence back both of them still held in their grasp, had not moved. Sara sat down at the trace/analysis computer and scanned in the prints from the syringe into AFIS. She knew this process could take many minutes, even hours, so she got up and obtained a cup of coffee for her and Greg. When she got back to the computer however, AFIS had already found a match.
"Michael Dawson. What a surprise, shy would he have a needle? No history of drug use, or medical ailment," Sara sighed, confused.
"Why does he have a record?" Greg shared her confusion.
"He doesn't, work card, he used to be a pit-boss at the New York, New York Casino," Sara answered matter-of-factly.
"Well lets interview him, find out what his prints are doing on a syringe," He replied, eager.
"Hold up, we had better take this fluid to Tox, see if it's Tetrodetoxin, then we will have more basis for a warrant," She replied, smiling at her friend's eagerness. They took the syringe over to the Toxicology department and left it in the capable hands of Henry, the Toxicology technician, for poison analysis.
They went into the break room and Sara collapsed onto the sofa, Greg not far behind her.
"You guys look beat," Nick said, a grin playing on his lips. Both Greg and Sara uttered no more than a mumbled incoherent groan and Nick laughed whole-heartedly.
"Nick, Mr Landon is at home, we gotta go interview him," She smiled at Greg and Sara, gently smoothing her hair from her face. Sara mumbled something unintelligible and brushed Catherine away. The pair of them looked drawn-out and tired, these new shifts were beginning to take their toll on all of the graveyard shift, now they had to help with days and swing shift. Nick finished his coffee and left the break room, Catherine behind him.
"Are you driving or am I?" Catherine smiled.
"I'll drive you're tired," Nick replied, placing a protective arm around her.
"That's Nicky," She smiled kissing him, before climbing into the Tahoe.
"Where are we headed then?" Nick asked, doing up his seatbelt.
"58 Martindale Avenue, LV Nevada," Catherine replied, checking her notes. Nick started the car and they began the 40 minute drive to Carlos Landon's house. Catherine's cell phone rang, startling both CSI's.
"Willows,"
It's Brass, I'll meet you at the Landon house, have you left yet?
"We're on our way over,"
Okay, see you soon.
He clicked off, and Catherine put her cell phone back onto her belt. The roads drew out in front of her, long and desolate. Nick made a final turning into a small street. He stopped the Tahoe and they got out, they spotted Brass' Taurus in the driveway. They walked up to the dimly-lit porch. The Captain was waiting for them at the door. They knocked and a young afro-Caribbean man answered.
"Carlos Landon?" Catherine enquired.
"Who wants to know?" the man replied, suspiciously.
"Catherine Willows, and this is Nick Stokes, we are from the crime lab, and this is Captain Jim Brass of Las Vegas PD," She replied coldly.
"Come in. I take it this is in regards to the murder at my hotel?" He asked, sighing as he gestured to the CSI's to sit down on the green leather sofa.
"Can I get you folks some tea or coffee?" He asked, politely. They all shook their heads and smiled politely in return.
"We need to ask you some questions regarding the matter," Nick responded, Brass took out his notebook.
"Sure ask your questions, I have nothing to hide," Mr Landon replied, his eyes shifting with his response.
"What time were you notified of the incident?" Catherine asked.
"It would have been about…seven fifteen, the maids go in to clean at seven am, and that's when Maria came down in a terrible state," he replied.
"And what time did you make the nine-one-one call?" Nick interjected, matter-of-factly.
"A few minutes after I found out, I called on my cell phone," he responded.
"We will be taking your cell phone into evidence to validate your story," Catherine replied.
"Okay, take what you need," Landon replied honestly.
"Did you touch or move the body, or anything else in the room?" Catherine enquired.
"No, no I just saw her, lying there like that. It was horrible and such a shame, such a damn shame, she was a beautiful woman, such potential," he sighed and rubbed his forehead. Just then Catherine's cell phone rang and she answered;
"Willows,"
Catherine, it's Jacqui, got a match on the bloody fingerprint on the bed. Work card shows he's the manager of the hotel.
"We're interviewing him now, thanks Jacqui,"
No problem.
She clicked off her phone and put it back onto her belt.
"Mr Landon you touched the body," Catherine said, the coldness in her voice had returned.
"I didn't, I," He stammered.
"The evidence is saying otherwise. We found a bloody fingerprint on the bed, it came back to you," Catherine was stood very close to his face now.
"Alright, I'll admit. I checked her vitals, to see if she was really dead. I didn't remember until just now, I didn't think it would be important," He sighed.
"It puts you at the crime scene, possibly during the crime and it makes you a viable suspect, I'd say it was damn important!" Catherine's voice now oozed venom.
"Am I under arrest?" Landon asked.
Brass sighed; "No, we don't have enough evidence for that yet, but don't leave town, we will be in touch," He finished.
Both CSI's and the detective walked out of the house.
"I'll see you guys back at PD I have a call out," Brass said, before getting into his Taurus.
"Later," Nick yelled after him.
"It's now a huge possibility Landon was there at the time of the murder, we need to sort out our evidence and build a case," Catherine sighed.
"Yeah, we're chasing our tails again," Nick replied, sharing Catherine's sigh. "We better tell Grissom," he added before getting into the Tahoe.
Catherine sighed again; "Sometimes I hate this job."