34) Self Invitation Required
No advice had been offered Riley any advice when she started. Of course, she had started right smack dab in the middle of CSI searching for the person that murdered one of their own. By the time that was over with, she was just another employee. Shortly thereafter, the supervisor that everyone seemed to love the most left. Before that, Mandy had quietly told her over coffee one night, that a graveyard CSI who had been there as long as she could remember, just up and walked out one day. So it could stand to reason that Riley felt a bit on the outside of things.
Sure, everyone so far had been nice. Nick was the most patient partner she'd ever had – only Job had more patience than that man. Greg was fast with the wit. Catherine was nice, but firm, something Riley appreciated. She got along with all the lab techs, even Hodges; although there were days that after ten hours she had to put effort into not smacking him. But they weren't really her people. She didn't feel like she really fit in. Even when they invited her out to meals at their favorite diner, or drinks after Ray's first trial by fire
It was what they didn't invite her to, or stopped talking about when she entered the room, that made her feel like an outsider. There was a secret that graveyard kept under tight lip, as thought they were guarding the secret to life. She'd brought it up one night when she worked with Ronnie from swing shift.
Ronnie told Riley that everyone knew there was something graveyard was hiding, but no one knew what for sure. She said there were times when the CSI, several lab techs, and the graveyard M.E. would disappear off the face of the planet. No one could find them. Then, like a herd of whales, as she described it, they'd suddenly all show up in one elevator car. That was the only clue the group had never left the building.
They were careful, though. If they used badges to access their secret spot, they never used their badges wherever they disappeared to, leaving no log of where they went. They would disappear from anyone following them and even the lab techs were good at ditching CSI and other lab techs turned amateur sleuths.
Some believed they had some secret club house located in some forgotten air raid bunker that no one knew about, while others believed there was an attic door hidden somewhere on the top floor that only they had access to. Ronnie laughed and told Riley that the more creative lab techs believed they had some trans-dimensional device that led them go into a secret room only they could see. She added that those techs didn't get out much and most of them still lived with their mothers and believed Star Trek was next to godliness.
So one a night when Nick, and Greg, and Catherine, and Ecklie and Brass, just up and vanished for two hours, Riley decided she was going to get to the bottom of their vanishing act. To her, it felt like they were shirking their duties and leaving everyone else to do their work when they vanished for hours.
Weeks passed as she took her time to eavesdrop and observe. She would pull footage when they disappeared, and studied their patterns during the disappearing act.
Her investigation hit a sudden break when she suddenly realized they had a secret password they passed along to tell the others they were meeting: pineapple. They were crafty about hiding their secret word. They used it in sentences or wrote it on their hands to keep it hidden from the naïve observer. But Archie had made a mistake one day. He wrote it on his hand, picked up a soda can wet with condensation, and then sat his hand down on a white table top. She was eating her lunch at the other end and when she saw he and Greg hadn't noticed it left behind, she snatched her camera, hastily took photos, and wiped it away. Evidence preserved in digital stills, but gone otherwise.
From there, the case quickly developed and patterns became more evident to her. She noticed that they were more likely to disappear after a rough night, but as time between those nights passed, the disappearances became less.
Then Nick was kidnapped and nearly beaten to death. It erupted to almost every night for weeks. It became evident then that these disappearances weren't selfish or duty shirking. This group was banding together to help each other through the more severe pitfalls in life. She began to understand that she really didn't know much about the people she was working with, but that didn't deter her from finding their secret meeting place. Nothing in the world would have stopped her from that, not when she felt she was very close to discovering it.
Regardless, she finally pinpointed the place in the building they seemed to disappear off the face of the map: records. She had to wait another two weeks to finally get the day shift supervisor convinced to give her access – telling him that the computers updated at night and Catherine was forgetful of such seemingly unimportant matters. It was a lie, but he bought it. Then she waited for a night they disappeared. It came sooner than she'd anticipated. A shooting had occurred in the neighborhood Greg and Catherine were at. The normally unshakable Catherine had a brush with death when a bullet grazed her side, dangerously close to her kidney. She didn't let on she was scared, but when 'pineapple' got passed around, Riley used her deduction skills. Tonight it was Catherine's turn for support. On queue – she'd even gotten the timing down from the moment 'pineapple' began being passed around – they vanished, like clockwork.
Riley snuck off to the back stairs, down to the basement. She paused at the morgue and verified Doc Robbins and David were gone too. "No one's home, just us dead people." Riley moved through the hall to the records room and swiped her badge.
The beep it made should have been a five alarm buzzer for as loud as it sounded. She quickly slipped into records and stopped inside the door.
She'd never been here before and this room was a little intimidating to be seeing alone and for the first time.
The floor to ceiling shelves that filled the room were overwhelming to look at. It smelled musty, dank, and was probably as cold as the morgue if not more. This was the bone yard of bygone cases, catalogued, shelved, and forgotten until either a case came up that needed them, or they were carted away to the city hall basement when more space was needed. Both were rare, from what Riley had observed.
She heard a faint spiel of laughter. It was to her left, somewhere in the depths of the records room. Walking on the balls of her feet, making no noise, she crept along the shelves. She heard more laughter, and louder this time. She was at least headed in the right direction. As she drew closer to the end she heard muffled talking, and more laughter. Where they getting drunk? Or high? She hoped neither. Riley came to the end of the shelves and pushed against the last one as she slowly craned her neck so she could look down the row. It was dark down there, but when the next round of laughter erupted, she knew he was in the right area.
She backed up a row and walked down the row. Suddenly she heard a door open and in a panic looked for a hiding spot. There was none. She was in a row of shelves packed with boxes. She saw a desk at the end and on the balls of her feet dashed down the row.
She scudded across the open space toward a desk, catching sight of light coming through a door half hidden behind old, overstuffed filing cabinets. Riley slid and spun as she dove under the desk. She hit her elbow against a leg, and then her knee skidded across the rough cement floor.
There was no back of the desk – which was a good because it would have made a loud bang when she hit it. Instead, she hit the large, rough stones that lined the bottom of the wall, smacking her cheek against them. Instincts made her sit down hard and pull her legs to her chest, balling into the small area and trying to get into the darkest spot.
The whole thing took only fifteen seconds, but in Riley's mind it was the longest five minutes she'd spent in a while. She slapped her hand over her mouth to cover her soft panting and listened, and watched. There was talking and laughter coming from behind the door, and in a procession, the missing CSI, M.E., and lab techs emerged. Along with Gina the graveyard receptionist, Brass, and Ecklie. She'd been told that Ecklie was a hardass in the truest sense, but she questioned that as she watched him walk past joking with Nick and Greg about something. Everyone was in high sprits as they left, but she didn't observe any signs of intoxication or drug use. They just seemed to be naturally and completely happy. The last out was Henry. The light went out and she heard the door close. Riley pressed against the back wall, watching down the row. Would they see her?
They walked past not as co-workers, but a tight knit group of friends. They were planning on having breakfast later when everyone was off. Ecklie was going to get up early to join them. She heard Henry rib him about his runny poached eggs looking like some evidence he had upstairs. Ecklie joked back, saying he'd take a look. They might be.
And then the doors to the records room closed and silence followed. Riley dropped her hand to her knee, waiting to make sure they were gone. She counted off coconuts in her head until she reached fifty. Riley slowly climbed out, wincing when she brushed her skinned knee. Riley walked to the end of the filing cabinets and found a space between them and the wall. She laid her hand on the wall. Body after body sliding against it was wearing it to a smooth finish. The paint on the filing cabinets was wearing where bellies and butts had rubbed against them. Riley turned sideways and slipped her petite frame through the space to the door. She reached out, grabbed it, and turned it, expecting to find it locked. But it turned effortless in her hand and swung soundlessly as she pushed it open to let herself into the space behind it.
In the always on dim light from the records room, she could make out a couple dark forms. There was a flower print settee next to the door. The most ugly settee she'd ever seen, actually. She saw the vague shape of a television sitting against the wall. There was a table and a chair behind the door. She could see darker shapes further in, but she couldn't make anything out.
Riley turned and spotted the light switch next to the door. She reached out but then paused. It had stickers on it, most of them glowing stickers of stars and planets. She flicked the switch, lighting up the room. Next to the door, in chalk, was a poem. She almost stopped to read it when, in her peripheral vision, she caught sight of something scrawled across the wall to her right. She turned her head and awe hit her hard. Most of the wall space, all of the floor, and the table top were covered with writing in chalk. The sentences were numbered in various handwritings, assumedly the people who had just left.
Riley shut the door, walking to the middle of the room. As much awe as she felt, she also felt more out of place now than she had before. It felt more like she'd stolen someone's key and uninvited, opened their diary and started reading. Her eyes traveled to the furniture in the room. It was a mixture of furniture, all of it used. A sectional couch took up the far end of the room – which was almost as big at the largest lab upstairs. Perhaps it was that large. There were two recliners facing an old analog TV with rabbit ears covered in aluminum foil and connected to a digital convertor box. A rickety table held up the TV. Next to it was a mini-refrigerator with a microwave sitting on top. A wooden spatula was wedged into the door, probably to keep it shut. There was a small enameled metal cabinet next to it with a single drawer and a single door. Sitting on top of it was a small stack of books, mostly fiction.
So this was where—
"If the others know you're here, there'll be hell to pay, Riley," she heard Catherine say.
Riley turned, staring at her. Catherine's expression was hard to read. She didn't look angry or okay with finding Riley in here. Riley watched her walk over to the table and pick up her purse, slipping a compact, mascara tube, and package of Kleenex back in it. Catherine didn't shoulder the bag. Instead she turned and sat down on the edge of the table, holding Riley's stare again.
"Did you hear me?" Catherine asked.
Riley nodded. She didn't know what else to say. The big secret she thought they were keeping was big, but not in the least what she was expecting.
"In other words," Catherine continued, "you were never here and you know nothing about this place. And that's the way it has to be until they decide to tell you about it."
"They're going to tell me about it?"
"In another four and half months, yes."
"Four and a half months? Why so long?"
"That will be your six month anniversary. We'll all vote, which I'm fairly certain will be unanimous, and someone'll bring you down here. You'll have to act surprised. They're very protective of The Wall Crew and The Wall. I imagine…" Catherine looked at the wall. "They could get pretty nasty if someone ever told someone outside of the crew about The Wall. It's kind of like a secret retreat for us, see. We come here when we need a pick-me-up or we just need a break from out there." Catherine motioned in the direction that Riley assumed was outside. She looked back at the new CSI, watching her.
"You're not mad I'm here?"
Catherine smiled. "With your record? Not at all. We talked about you tonight, about letting you know early, but, majority overruled, and tradition was upheld."
"Who voted against me?"
"Doesn't matter. Besides, it really wasn't about you anyway. Like I said, Riley, the Wall Crew take this secret very seriously. It always amazed Grissom and me just how seriously they took it. You really do have to keep it a secret. Ecklie… He might fire you if you ever told anyone."
"That wouldn't be ethical."
"Ecklie's not known for being ethical when he's mad. My advice is to never try getting him there. He's like a raging bull going after a dog and anyone in the way gets run over."
Riley wasn't going to argue that. After all, Ecklie hadn't said more than a few kind words to her and that was in passing.
"You mentioned The Wall Crew. Is that what the group calls itself?"
Catherine nodded.
"And The Wall…" Riley looked at the wall, motioning at it.
"The entire room is The Wall."
Riley glanced at her. She walked along wall to rule number one.
"These look like rules."
"Yes. It started out as things lab rats aren't allowed to do anymore. Greg started it."
"When he was a lab tech?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"He had an incident with some luminal. Completely destroyed evidence with it to impress a girl."
"A tech?"
"A reporter."
Riley skimmed rule to rule. She lost track of time as she slowly read them.
"Do these rules have stories behind them?"
"All of them do." Catherine's voice changed slightly when she added, "but the people that wrote some of them have left or passed. I don't remember all of the stories behind them anymore."
"Are most of them comical?"
"Yes. Most of them are. Like the ones there about the circus. Grissom sent Nick, Greg, and Warrick to a crime scene at a circus. They had the entire circus mad at them and were ready to quit after that."
Riley glanced back, smiling when she asked, "A three ring circus?"
Catherine chuckled. "More like a three tent circus. It was pretty bad."
Riley smiled, reading again in silence.
"Were rules written tonight?" she asked after several minutes.
"Yes. We started at 529."
Riley moved down to that rule, reading it:
529. I am not allowed to tell anyone that "I come on orders of Ecklie of the Shiny Forehead." (Submitted by DustBunnyQueen)
"What is this one about?"
"I really don't know. Whatever it is, I think Hodges got a little jealous of the joke Ecklie and Wendy shared about it. This next one Nick wrote for Ray. Remember last week when he and Nick had that pregnant suspect?"
530. Beware of the 36 weeks pregnant suspect.
"The one that went into labor? The one he delivered at the crime scene? The one that the DA threw out because the baby was delivered at the crime scene?"
Catherine laughed. "Unfortunately, Riley, babies don't really care where they get delivered at. When it's time, it's time."
Riley laughed. "I guess you'd be the only one that would know that."
Catherine shrugged a little.
"Did you hear that the woman named the baby Ray?"
"Yeah. Nick said she should have named it after him. It was his groin she kicked during it. Who's Dexter Morgan?
531. We do not arrest suspects named 'Dexter Morgan' on the suspicion they could be serial killers.
"Some character on some show that apparently everyone in the lab watches, except for us old people. That was aimed at Brass, though, so I guess he watches it too. Apparently that was his excuse for arresting a guy."
"He didn't really think a guy with fictional character's name was really a serial killer? Did he?"
Catherine laughed. "As it turns out, the guy wasn't a serial killer of people. He was a poacher, though."
Riley smiled, and went on to the next one:
532. 'We were short handed and she volunteered' does not excuse you for bringing a mannequin in to help process evidence.
"Mannequin?"
"You may never see it in the field… well, YOU may never see it in the field, but Nicky and Gregg-o are the worst pranksters. If you'd been around when Warrick was alive, there were nights they pranked to the verge of being fired. That is a Nick and Greg prank. Their ingenious answer of how to deal with budget and personnel cuts."
Riley's giggles turned to laughter. "And suddenly everything makes perfect sense!"
"What's that?"
"I saw Nick that morning carrying a mannequin out to his truck. I asked him if he'd brought his girlfriend to work. He told me, this was his stand in. I didn't get it, he didn't explain it, and now, suddenly, it makes perfect sense."
"The next one is Greg at his finest. Wendy was going to kill him that night."
533. We do not claim squirrels were aiding and abetting anyone.
"Why?" Riley asked.
"She's afraid of squirrels, it turns out. Said they are nothing more than rats, which she's also afraid of."
"And so what does that have to do with squirrels?"
"He brought a squirrel in from a crime scene at a park and claimed it had aided and abetted our suspect."
"Was he on something?"
"No. That was how Greg was before you came around. Every so often, that Greg shows up and we just shake our heads and roll with it."
"Can't wait to meet him. Is this about the coffee maker that died?"
534. If a break room device dies, we are not allowed to have a full-blown investigation to confirm it was accidental.
"And the microwave, and the toaster, and the hot plate." Catherine answered. "Sometimes our lab rats go CSI on us. It can be a little frightening."
"Was this the guy that Nick chased into the mud puddle?"
535. Fleeing suspects always take the hard way out with no regard to your safety.
"Oh nooooo." Catherine grinned. "That's the guy that Brass chased out of the house, over the fence, through the sticker patch, over the barbed wire fence, into the chicken coop, over the chicken coop, into the backyard, away from the angry dog, over the next fence, onto the freeway – where the suspect was hit and died on scene."
"I missed that, I think."
"We all did. He said it was a day he considered taking a desk job. He hasn't run like that since he stopped being a beat cop."
"Is this one of the M.E.s?"
536. The weight of the dead body you have to transport is proportional to the number of stairs you'll have to climb.
"Robbins said it's an old M.E. saying, kind of like a Murphy's Law for medical examiners."
"Do you think it's true?"
"I don't have to transport bodies out of a building, but I bet it is. After all, it is a crime scene. When all things go right, something is wrong. Isn't it?"
Riley laughed, pointing at the next rule and asking, "What the hell?"
537. I will not claim the inflatable sheep is conspiring for world domination when I've forgotten to set the timer for the PCR test. (Submitted by emeraldxisle47)
"Bobby and his inflatable sheep."
"Bobby has an inflatable sheep?"
"You haven't seen his inflatable sheep?"
"No. Why does he have an inflatable sheep?"
"We don't know. He said he got it in college and everyone has pretty much stopped him there. We're not sure we want to know, even if he claims he's told his daughter and it's that innocent."
"Bobby has a daughter?"
"Yeah."
"He's married?"
"No. He adopted his partner's daughter."
"Bobby's gay?"
"Yes."
"I never would have thought that of him."
Catherine just smiled.
"Which of our disastrous duo is this?" Riley asked.
538. I may not tell a suspect that saying my name three times will cause "bad things to happen."
"Nick. He told this really drunk driver who kept calling him Nicky Picky that."
"And if he didn't stop, he'd beat him up?"
"Then he'd turn into a goblin and eat his head."
"You're kidding?"
"If only I were."
"Wow. I really don't know Nick, I guess. Was this his complaint?"
539. The day of the biggest crime scene of the year is the day you will have forgotten to schedule TIVO to record your show and will be unable to get to a cell phone or computer in time.
"No. That was mine. So was the next one."
540. To pass the time, I probably shouldn't ask an officer what rules he or she would make up for things lab rats and CSI shouldn't do. They will never shut up!
"Did the officer go on for hours?"
"Two hours and thirty-seven minutes later he finally finished his list. Then he asked why I'd asked him. I lied like a rug."
Riley sat down on the table next to Catherine. "Who got in trouble for that?"
541. We do not say 'screw the press' when we are asked to do an interview – even when our back is turned to them. (Inspired by 'its not you its me')
"Henry."
"Henry? Always sweet and happy Henry?"
"Oh, Riley, you poor girl. You know so little about your co-workers."
"Henry has a temper?"
"A wicked, wicked temper. It's a rare thing. It's a short lived thing. And he's at least smart enough to not direct it toward his superiors. But if you're press, more if your press than any other, or you're a suspect, and you find that well hidden button, he comes off all over your ass. Luckily, raising his brother seems to have buried it a little deeper. But last week, when that banker president was shot, they were after everyone that worked here. His little brother meets him here in the mornings, they have breakfast, and then he takes him to school before heading home to bed. The press attacked on his way out and someone hit his little brother in the face, gave the kid a bloody nose. It was an accident, I'm sure, but that set him off. We were amused by the remark, until the Mayor called and ordered him to apologize."
"I saw that on the news. The remark part. I didn't know the rest of that. Everyone said his brother went to ULV. I thought he was older."
"He does go to ULV."
"Oh. Guess genius runs in that family."
"According to Henry, it goes about seven generations back. Between you and I, if I ever decided to have in vitro, I would beg for him to donate."
The two giggled at the secret.
"Knowing what I know now, me too. Course, I'd probably convince him to do it the natural way."
"You like Henry?"
Riley blushed.
"Really? You like Henry?"
"He's cute in an adorable way. Strange though, that's not usually the type I go for. Don't say anything. Dating co-workers is just asking for trouble."
"Your secret's as safe as mine. Right?"
"Yes. Nick or Greg?"
542. It is wrong to throw a book at someone for suggesting I wasn't doing something 'by the book.'
"You're off again, Riley. Brass. And it wasn't really a book. It was a notebook. And he didn't really throw it at the person, he threw it in the person's general vicinity."
"In other words, he threw his notebook at the person."
"We may never know."
"Is this Archie? He's such a Star Trek fan."
543. I am not some captain from the future sent back to save the whales.
"No and you know what that's even talking about?"
"It's from a Star Trek movie. It was Archie, wasn't it?"
"No. It was Nick. We had yet another run in with drugs at a crime scene and—"
"Oh wait. Wait. It was the pillowcases at the dealer's house. The ones that I shook to check for drugs and blew a puff of dust into Nick's face. That wasn't dust, was it?
"Noooooo." Catherine grinned. "Remember you told me he bolted out of there right after that and just disappeared on you?"
"Yes."
"He called me and told me what happen and in minutes, he was all sorts of happy. We brought him down here to baby-sit him until he came down. Again."
"Again? It's happened to him before?"
"He had cocaine laced flour thrown in his face. Yes. He seems to be attracted to those situations. Ecklie gave him a hard time when he came down. Said he was going to start thinking Nick was setting these situations up just so he could get high without really getting high."
Riley leaned close. "Maybe he is. Maybe he planted that cocaine in those pillow cases before the crime ever happened."
Catherine laughed. "Am I going to have to worry about you adding to their trouble?"
"Ma-wah? Never! Now who would take a pint of ice cream into the morgue?"
544. The M.E. doesn't care why you have brought a pint of ice cream to view a body.
"That is between Nick and Robbins. You missed a good argument between them a little bit ago."
"Really? They got into a fight?"
"I don't think it was a real fight. Robbins told him he didn't care for the Rocky Road jokes with a pint of Rocky Road for a customer who had been found on the rockiest road on Spring Mountain. Nick said the point had to be made, if nothing else, for the deceased. Robbins threatened to confiscate his ice cream if he ever brought it into the morgue again. We were amused, even if it was real."
Riley laughed. "What I miss when I'm not looking. Is this Greg?"
545. We do not bring squirrels in for questioning.
"Greg and Wendy at it again. She threatened to fire him if he brought even one more squirrel in the lab."
"She can't fire him."
"I think she'd do it anyway as mad as she was about it last night."
"Is that what was wrong with her? Where was I?"
"1452 Rose Avenue. Ruled it as a suicide."
"Oh yeah. So is that about Nick's fireworks?"
Catherine looked up, nodding.
546. I should not assume the fireworks have all burned out when I move them to my vehicle for transport (Inspired by jevans47403)
"That's a lesson I don't think any of us will forget any time soon," Riley laughed. "He's lucky Ecklie didn't take it out of his check."
Catherine started laughing. "You were there? Did you see it?"
"Yeah."
"He swears he thought they were out."
"I thought they were out. It could have easily happened to me."
"What did his face look like when they went off in the Denali?"
"Cross between 'What the hell?' and 'Oh fuck!' He didn't know whether to run and hide or start a bucket brigade. I'm just glad it was the first thing he loaded and not the last, we would have lost all the evidence when that Denali went up like… Like a roman candle."
The two laughed.
"I don't think I'll ever let him live that down," Catherine admitted. "Or his speeding tickets on the job."
547. You can get ANYWHERE in ten minutes if you go fast enough.
Riley nodded. "I have noticed he has a brick of lead on that right foot. Sometimes, I don't think even he knows how fast he's going."
"He blames it on always driving in open spaces back home."
"In Austin?"
"That's what I always ask. He just shrugs and comes up with a new excuse. That's my Nicky. It's like raising a teenager all over again with him and Greg."
Riley laughed. "So everyday you trade one crazy home for another?"
"Yes. Pretty much. That was his next contribution tonight. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or ring his scrawny neck."
548. Always fear a supervisor who is abnormally happy.
"So why were you in an abnormally good mood yesterday?"
Catherine just smiled. Riley leaned in.
"Come on. It's just us girls."
Catherine said nothing. Only smiled.
"And will you and mystery man be doing it again soon?"
Catherine smiled, but felt a slight heat in her cheeks.
"I take that as a yes."
"Let's talk about pork, and why we don't ask about it at a crime scene, even if there are pigs."
549. I should not ask if the pork has arrived on the scene before or after I did, even if the crime scene is at a pig farm.
Riley sat up, gripping the edge of the table. "It's not that much of an offense. I think it's all in how you say it."
"Really? I've never seen it go over well. Especially when Greg tries to joke about it."
"You're talking about Greg. Mister Foot-In-Mouth does a real good job at saying what he shouldn't and then looking like he didn't know he said it."
"That's our Greggo. We love him, even for all his faults. Including abusing Bobby's poor sheep."
550. Inflatable sheep are not allowed to graze on the lab front lawn.
"How do I keep missing all this stuff?"
"I told you. You have to be initiated into the group first, and then you'll start seeing it all around you. Even the undead stuff."
551. The lab does not have an army of evil, undead, zombie squirrels. (Submitted by DustBunnyQueen)
"Undead and zombie's in the same sentence? Aren't they the same?"
Catherine's eyebrows lifted as she looked at Riley. "How would you know that?"
"Girl's gotta have her little secrets, doesn't she? Although, that next one… What?"
552. Not all dead people are dead.
"Oh, that was David's contribution after Nick and he found Natalie."
"That was months ago."
"David is a little slow with his rules. It's like he has to spend time thinking about just the perfect way to word them."
"I can only imagine how that must drive the missus nuts."
"It would me," Catherine admitted.
553. Not all suspects lie.
"Nick or Greg didn't write that… Did they?" Riley asked
"No. That was one of Henry's insightful observations."
"Oh. Is he against clowns, too?"
554. Clowns are considered guilty even after they're proven innocent.
"No. That's Nick. Nick's only racist bone in his body is against clowns. Apparently when he was a child a clown ruined his birthday party and ever since then, he can't stand them."
Riley started laughing hard. "Nick's scared of clowns?"
"Not scared. Hates. There's a difference. He has a personal vendetta against anyone who is a clown. I might have to assign you once with him when there's a clown involved, just so you can watch him. It reminds me of five-year-old throwing a tantrum when Grissom had to assign him. He tried not because he knew Nick hated them, but sometimes it couldn't be helped."
"Did he throw himself on the floor and kick too?"
"There were a few times I thought he might."
Riley laughed. "Now… I know that one is your handwriting."
555. I am no longer allowed to use the parking garage as a location to test any driving games that a suspect or victim may have engaged in. (Such as mailbox baseball.)
"Nick and Hodges were testing a theory for a case shortly after you arrived. In the parking garage. After some thought, I decided we should probably not have it happen again. I could see one of them ending up with a dislocated shoulder like a victim had."
"How much thought was put into this, do you think?"
Catherine scoffed at the thought any thought had. Riley laughed.
"After he ate the fly in his soup at Frank's, that has to be Nick."
556. I will not swap my random drug test sample with apple juice and then drink it in front of the tester. (Inspired by its not you its me)
Catherine sighed, shaking her head with mock sadness. "Unfortunately, no. It was the one person I never, ever, would have imagined. It was Mandy."
"Mandy?"
"Sadly, yes. It was Mandy. She was protesting the random drug tests we have. It filtered back to Ecklie and I."
"So… How often do they break the rules on the wall?"
"Break? Never. That's sort of an unspoken rule. Once the rule has been written, it cannot be broken. At least, the circumstances that led to it being added cannot be repeated. Unfortunately, the boys – and it's almost always the boys – like to bend the rule. A lot."
Riley hopped onto her feet. "Where's the chalk? I have one."
"You can't add a rule. I told you, Riley, if they know you know before you've been invited into the group, hell will break loose. They're protective of this place."
"Then you add it for me. Because if Hodges and Archie do it again, I'm breaking fingers."
Catherine slid off the table and walked over to the metal cabinet. She pulled open the drawer, taking out a piece of chalk, then moved the stool under the rule.
"I'm probably going to have to talk to them once you tell me this, but shoot."
557. I will not use my TV-B-Gone when CSI are reviewing case video.
Catherine backed down the stool, and then looked at Riley.
"What exactly is a TV-B-Gone?"
"It's this device that shuts off televisions from about fifty feet away. And I was reviewing some surveillance footage and it kept turning off. All the televisions around me kept turning off. When I finally figured out I was being messed with, they were laughing. I was ready to kill them."
Catherine laughed. "Should I talk to them?"
"No. I told them that if they ever did it again, I'd break the device first, and then report them."
"Did they apologize?"
"Hodges got mad, I think. But Archie did and bought me supper. I forgave them."
Catherine put the chalk back. "I have no worries about you fitting in here, Riley." Catherine walked up to a wall, gently patting the cold bricks. "We should have come sooner. It brings white magic."
"What brings white magic?"
Catherine smiled as she turned. She walked over and shouldered her purse. "Let's go have breakfast."
Riley didn't move. She watched Catherine disappear around the door, and then looked at the wall. She didn't get what Catherine meant. Maybe when she was officially included and could be with the group, she would. Riley walked over to the door, flicked the light switch, shut the door, and followed Catherine.