Chapter 2: Feel the Heat
Nick woke with a start. His gaze shot directly to Greg, who was gripping the steering wheel, slight panic etched on his face. Nick had woke from feeling the truck swerve, bumping his side against the door. Nick instinctively grabbed the headrest, bracing himself for an impact. But nothing happened. He looked over the dashboard to the empty, desolate desert road again. No signs of people, cars or even life. Nick returned his gaze to the driver. Greg had managed to weave the skittering tires back onto the pavement of the highway and stable out the drive.
"What was that?" Nick asked, wide eyed and fully awake now.
"My awesome stunt driving skills," Greg said with a boyish grin.
"In my truck?" Nick asked incredulously.
Greg's grin faded slightly as he glanced back out the front window, eyeing the clear road. "Well, sorta. Something ran out on the highway. I think it was a stray dog."
Nick glanced over his shoulder out the back window to see if that mysterious stray dog was behind them. He hadn't heard the death-knell bump underneath the tires. So Greg's swerve avoided whatever had been in the road. "It was probably a coyote."
Greg nodded, "Yeah- that makes sense."
Nick sighed, hunkering back down into the passenger seat, relaxing the muscles that had tensed during the jolting car ride. His heart skill raced from the abrupt awake. Nick took another deep breath.
"Sorry," Greg muttered besides him. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's cool, man. I shouldn't have been sleepin' anyway," Nick replied honestly. He only asked Greg to drive because he knew he was so tried and the thought of driving 20 miles out to the desert seemed agonizing. He blamed it on the amount of work at first. He'd been working overtime a lot more since his upgrade in the department- bigger office, longer hours and maybe even harder cases. Yet he really knew it had to do with stress.
Stress kept him up late at night, making it difficult for him to close his eyes once the lights went off. His mind buzzed with cases, paperwork to be finished, people to email, fingerprints or guns still left to be processed… It had become one long, never-ending list of things for Nick to do once he shut his eyes.
He went online and even surfed the web to get some ideas on how to shut off the noise in his head at night. He got a few helpful tips and attempted a few: writing down everything that popped into his head before bedtime, caffeine free tea, reading, stress balls- anything to help with his restless sleep. But so far, nothing worked. Nick dreaded going home at night now. It only meant another long, sleepless night of tossing and turning. Power naps had become an unfulfilling substitute for him.
"Did you say stunt driving?" Nick asked, his mind clearing away the fog from the nap.
Greg's boyish grin came back as he gazed sideways at him. Nick couldn't help but respond that smile. Greg was infectious when it came to his enthusiasm. "I took a few lessons here a few months ago." He said proudly.
Nick frowned, puzzled on why Greg would have the absurd urge to learn how to stunt drive. "Why?" he asked.
"C'mon Nick! We're in a profession that requires us to take risks and driving can be one of them. So I paid for a few lessons on how to drive fast and smart."
Nick couldn't help but laugh, "Are you serious? You're telling me that the only reason you wanted to learn how to stunt drive was for work? Right…" he drawled out unconvinced.
Greg smirked, "Okay- I'll admit, I might have watched the Italian Job a few too many times and the idea of zipping in and out, speed braking and throwing my clutch into a drift, became irresistible."
Nick shook his head, smiling. Greg sure had a way of surprising him from time to time. When they first started working together nearly a decade ago, Greg had been a spit-fire of a young man. His rebelliously carefree attitude, mixed with crazy hairstyles, quirky personality traits and genius level intelligence added a spark of life into the dreary lab. Nick had to admit, Greg's charisma was addicting. He loved being around him. He enjoyed the way Greg would test Nick in the lab with quizzes or challenges, adding a flare of dramatics to a case which inspired Nick to push that much harder on it.
Now Greg, a few years later, that hellion spit-fire had been replaced by a mature, responsible, still somewhat quirky, professional CSI. Gone was the crazy hair-dues, pranks and rebellion. Greg's sandy blond hair was cut normally, no spikes or colored dyes. His eager to please attitude replaced by an unwavering persistence and vigor to solve cases. His scrawny, awkward physical form had filled out a bit and matured with age and definition. Greg had become a man overnight with a gun and a badge yet he still had that same sharp intelligence.
Greg Sanders had grown up right before Nick's eyes. They both had, he supposed. Taking Greg, unofficially, under his wing when he first became a crime-scene-investigator had brought them closer as colleagues and friends. Nick enjoyed mentoring him and watching him mature and learn from his mistakes. Probably because it reminded Nick so much of himself when he first started out under the watchful eye of Grissom.
Greg was a capable investigator in his own right and that made Nick proud of him. Greg no longer needed mentoring or guidance, which Nick had surprisingly missed. He wanted Greg to need him. But he didn't anymore.
Now they barely worked cases together since they both were Catherine's seasoned CSI's. But when Greg offered his help on the case today, Nick felt himself drawn to the idea. He knew he would relish the younger man's assistance and company on any case they worked. Just having him by his side was a comfort, especially at the moment when the whole weight of the world seemed to be breaking Nick's back. He wondered if that's why he fell asleep on the car-drive to the crime scene. He trusted Greg.
The highway rose up ahead into the dry, dusty mountains of Nevada. The sun scorched the earth around them, blistering the grounds with such intensity Nick could see the steam rising from the asphalt of the highway.
"Let's hope this doesn't take too long. I don't wanna end up with heat stroke," Greg commented listlessly.
Nick nodded in agreement, "We should be there by now."
Just as he said it the mountain they had been climbing peeked and narrowed out into a winding curve. They followed it along for a few miles. It highway hugged into the mountain, the only thing keeping them safe from a straight drop off the side was a steal fence. Flashing siren lights up ahead meant they were there. Greg slowed down the truck on approach.
Nick saw Brass outside, standing beneath the only shade a dried out tree, few of which had been scattered along the mountain side. Next to Brass was a large, shattered gap in the steel fence where a car must have driven straight through, crashing down the slopping face of the mountain.
Nick stared at the spot for a moment before realizing that he was looking at the crime scene. They got out of the truck, CSI kits in hand. Sweltering heat penetrated right through Nick's thick black armored vest and sweat instantly began to form on his brow beneath his official CSI cap. His boots felt heavier and his jeans thicker, as if the heat was trying to not only make him sweat, but also uncomfortable. He shouldered this though. He was on a case. His comfort level didn't matter.
The sun blazed down off the blacktop of the highway, straight back at them as they walked to Brass, who stayed under the shade. Nick suddenly missed the AC inside his truck. Greg too seemed to long for the comforts of the truck as he glanced back morosely, then pressed his aviator sunglasses firmly on the rim of his nose.
A police officer saw them approach and lifted the yellow tape for them. Bright orange cones were set up along their side of the highway, while officers diverted oncoming traffic to the other side of the road.
Jim Brass, their long time friend and detective smiled grimly at them, "Hello gentlemen. Glad you could come out in this weather," he said with a sarcastic air.
Nick smirked, "Aw- you know us, Jim. Can't stay out of this heat."
"Yeah, I do know. Neither can this guy," he pointed down the slopping stoop of the mountain. Nick leaned over to take a look. An old-school red thunderbird convertible had flipped over a few yards down, the heat from the surrounding dried grass and metal of the car steamed. He saw the body then. It was an older man, lying face up, underneath the driver's side of the flipped vehicle. His face was covered in blood and it was badly sun-burnt, turning brown. Nick held back the urge to grimace instead he frowned lightly as he glanced back to Brass.
"His name is Edward Fowler." Brass said, holding up a wallet. "No priors, no record of any kind so far as we know. There were tire markings on the road a few yards back, the fence is smashed in from where Eddie took a swan dive off the highway. And the coroner's here to take the body back when you guys are done."
"Alright, thanks Brass. We can take it from here," Nick said, relieving the detective from having to stay out in the heat any longer.
Brass smiled thinly at him, wiping the tell-tale drops of sweat from his own forehead. "Thanks, Nick. I'll try and dig up some more on this guy back at the station."
Nick simply nodded and watched as the older detective anxiously returned to his air-conditioned car. He felt a momentary pang of envy for Brass. He wanted to be in a cool room, sipping on an icy cold bottle of water…
"Ready?" Greg asked, motioning towards the fence. Nick pulled away from his thoughts and absently headed down the steep mountain-side first. It was a lot more perilous of a slope than he had anticipated. His first few steps were a little too fast and the steep level caused his body to lean forward. Before Nick knew it, he was too far over and began to waver, on the verge of falling. He blindly reached out to grab hold of a tree branch or catch himself on something, when he felt a sure, strong arm of Greg from behind him.
Greg grabbed him, catching him. Nick felt Greg's muscles bunch beneath his grasping fingers as he latched onto the younger man's arm for support.
"Whoa… I gotch'ya," Greg said reassuringly as he planted his feet and steadied Nick's descent downwards.
Nick's heart slowly regained normality as he exhaled, "thanks…" his fingers still wrapped around the flesh of Greg's forearm. It felt warm, hot to the touch, yet strong and soft all at the same time. He turned to look at him, Greg's face nearly covered with his sunglasses, but he could see the tautness around his lips as he continued to hold on to him.
Greg simply nodded curtly, "No problem, just be careful."
Nick had the absurd urge to smile. Greg had just saved him- usually it was the other way around. Nick suddenly realized how he underestimated the younger man when he knew he shouldn't.
Grateful for Greg's quick reflexes, Nick slowly released his firm grip on his arm. He felt Greg's own touch linger across his skin after they stopped touching. A strange, dizzying excitement raced through Nick. It had been a platonic, innocent touch, yet his body responded strongly to it. Almost… sexually. Nick nearly tripped again at this realization. For Greg? But there was no other emotion now coursing through him than excitement, on the verge of arousal. His stomach clenched uncomfortably.
He never felt like this before with Greg. Why all of a sudden? Nick tried not to over-think his emotions. Maybe he was just surprised that Greg was helping him out today. Maybe it was because he hadn't worked a case with him in a while and just missed him. Maybe Nick was letting his stress from work get to him. Maybe it was the heat and not the lingering feel of Greg's hand on his skin that burned him.
Nick pushed the thought away instantly. He was at a crime scene. He didn't have time to think about anything else other than the case and what the evidence was telling him. And that definitely meant his emotions.
After a few minutes of careful decent the men reached the car. Greg began taking photos, documenting the vehicle location and all the evidence surrounding it from the collision. Nick investigated the body. The smell was rank as he squatted down to take a closer look.
"Wow- I can smell him from here," Greg commented as he took photos of the vehicle's trail marks.
"Think how he smells from here," Nick retorted. He snapped a few pictures of the man's position. He noted that the sockets of his eyes were bloodied and hollow out. His eyes had been possibly pecked clean from vultures or other animals littered about the terrain, Nick concluded.
The man's grey hair was bloodied and matted. Nick followed the head wound and found a large piece of car window glass lodged in his temple near the hairline. He snapped a photo of it. He followed the blood pool and noted the man was also missing an ear but it didn't appear to be from the car collision. It looked chewed up.
"I think he's been here long enough for the coyotes to get at him," Nick said out loud as he took a shot of the missing ear.
"Yeah, I've got paw prints in blood over here," Greg said, taking pictures of said prints.
Nick finished up with the body, collecting scraps of evidence, photos and placing everything into his kit. Sweat beaded down his neck, his skin felt unbearably warm. He stood and waved up to the coroner on scene.
"So what do you think?" Nick asked over to Greg as he waited for the coroner.
Greg turned, camera still in hand, eyes searching the dried dusty mountain side. He started from the fence as he began his theory, "something distracts the driver, sending him into the railing and over the cliff. The vehicle flips, pinning him underneath. High speed impact might be cause of death…"
"Yeah, I did find a shard of glass imbedded in Mr. Fowler's temple. That might have killed him, or the crash did." Nick said, piecing together the puzzle of what caused Edward Fowler's death. "So what caused him to crash?" He glanced back up to where the highway was and the broken steel fence.
Greg shrugged then after a pause glanced over to him, "Hey- maybe it was the coyote."
Nick arched a disbelieving eyebrow, "what? Wile E. Coyote chased Road Runner off the road?"
Greg smiled, "Maybe. He does have a track record. He did try to kill us earlier and left his prints at the crime scene."
"Paw prints, Greg." Nick tried to resist the urge to laugh at him. "So unless you can confirm that Mr. Fowler swerved to miss a coyote, let's stick to the evidence."
Greg smiled boyishly again, making Nick's heart do a funny flip in his chest. He tried not to think about this as he trudged back up to the highway to finish documenting the scene. The heat was beginning to take a toll on him now. He still had a highway to process. It was going to be a long day, he thought grudgingly. At least he had Greg, he told himself. Except Nick still wasn't sure if it was the heat causing these strange feelings for his colleague and long-time friend or something else entirely….
TBC