A/N: Thanks to my beta, Madison Bellows

Chapter 18: Routine, nothing more – Part 1

Leaning against the door frame and clad in a red lace gown, Frank Powers stared at them. Angell and Flack glanced quickly at one another, we're here for two homicides not to question the sexual habits of this guy.

"Mister Powers, I'm Detective Don Flack, and this is Detective Angell. We'd like to have a talk to you."

The man moved slightly, "no problem. Be my guests."

"It won't be necessary. You have a gun license, is that correct?"

"Yeah... I've had it for almost five years... why, any problem?" He was now looking worried.

"No. We're conducting an investigation and, Angell", he nodded at Jess.

She showed Frank the victims' photos, "do you know them?"

Powers nervously swallowed and, without noticing, held the gown tighter around his body, "I've never seen them. Do you think I killed them?"

"Should we?" Flack would have liked to press him a little further, even if his instincts were telling him he was innocent, but then he remembered Mac's words, "we're just asking some questions. It'd be great if you would cooperate with us."

Frank nodded, "no. I don't know them."

"You are a volunteer at a suicide help line, aren't you?"

This made him look more alert, "Oh yes, I go three times per week. It's not very much, but I don't have time during other days. Lots of people call, and I like to think we can help them a little."

"What kind of relationship is there among the volunteers?"

"Well, we're a rather large group. Maybe two hundred people. So it's not possible to get along with everybody, you know? We kind of form different little groups..." Frank shrugged with resignation.

Some noises coming from the apartment were heard. Frank look behind him, "must be Julia, my fiancee. You know, this is her gown. I put on the first thing I grabbed when you knocked," he stopped, looking down. Then he looked again at the detectives, smiling a little, "Julia and I met two years ago, while volunteering."

"So she volunteers at the the help line, too?"

"No more. She was sorry, but she has a very demanding job, she left a year ago."

"One last question, Mister Powers: what kind of car do you drive?"

"I don't drive. I live in New York, I don't need the license. And if you think at the actual pollution level... we should behave better for next generations, don't you agree?"

Don and Jess stared at each other for a couple of seconds. Then, Angell spoke, "well, thank you for your cooperation. Good bye."

"Good bye to you. I'll be at your complete disposal, if you need me again."

The two detectives walked toward the exit, "he's a Boy Scout! He doesn't drive, he cares for the future of humanity, he was more than helpful, he ran to open the door when he discovered we were with NYPD, wearing his fiancee's gown to prevent us having to wait."

"Well, I wouldn't wear your lace gown if I had to race to open the door."

"You're lucky I don't own one. Well, we can exclude him?"

"Yes. Hey, only 224 left!"

The apartment of the second victim, Elizabeth Cruz, was in the East Village. Her former roommate opened the door to the police, failing to hide completely her disappointment.

"Miss Brown, I'm sorry to disturb you again, but we are only doing our job. You know, something like finding who killed your friend." Danny, after another useless search in Buster's house, wasn't in a good mood.

"Of course... come in. Her room is in the way you left it, I haven't touched anything."

Hawkes and Messer entered the room closing the door behind them to keep Brown from follow them.

"I guess it's annoying to be in this situation," Danny commented in a low voice, glancing around him.

"In fact she keeps saying she was a great friend of our victim but she doesn't seem so sad. Has someone checked her alibi?"

"Angell. She was at college when Elizabeth was killed; we have some witnesses confirming it. We also have shown her the photo of the crime scene, but she didn't recognize the place."

Sheldon raised his eyebrows.

"She wasn't lying. And she doesn't know anything about weapons. Of course, she's behaving strangely but she's not our killer."

The two CSIs studied the bedroom, trying to concentrate on the least obvious details. The laptop had already been taken to the lab with the paper with the printed question on it.

"Hey, she didn't own a printer!"

"So?"

"How did the paper arrive there? I was thinking e-mail, maybe, an e-mail she had erased from the laptop memory, but how did she print it?"

Danny focused his attention on the bin: the previous day he had looked at it a little distracted, what an idiot! He put his gloves on and reversed the inside on the carpet. Candy wrappings, a void mascara applicator, some shredded pieces of hand-written papers, and an envelope. "Boom!"

"A plain white envelope? She could have thrown it away without thinking."

"Look!" Messer pointed at the opening of the envelope: a thin strip of dried glue was still visible, "this was a closed envelope. And this," attached to one of the end there was an almost invisible fragment, "could take us somewhere. Pass me one of the evidence envelopes."

Hawkes couldn't help smiling, "A little cacophonous, don't you think?"

"Are you implying I have a simple vocabulary? Not my fault. C'mon, let's go."

They found miss Brown in the living room. She was pretending to read a magazine.

"We're done, for now."

"For now?"

"Any problems?"

"It's just... well... I was hoping to start looking for a new roommate. The rent is terribly high here and I'm paying it all alone and-"

She couldn't end the sentence; Danny and Hawkes were already in the corridor while the girl's voice was resounded unheard in the apartment.

"Any news, Adam?"

He jumped on the chair, he was so engrossed in looking the PC screen, he didn't notice Stella's entrance.

"No, lots of people in New York own a dark car! In Flack's list about 65% have one."

"We should identify the model, at least. Sandra Poulson said it was a Ford, even if she wasn't so sure."

"Typical!" Adam commented with a half chuckle.

"Do you mind?" Stella tilted the head to take a better look at him, "please note that I know the exact model of the car I'm driving and I cal also recognize other models without problems."

Adam blushed, "o-of c-course you can... I just wanted... wanted to say that... that, maybe, if we showed some pictures to the witness she could identify the car with certainty."

Stella smiled, "not a bad idea, I don't know if there's time, but we can try."

At that moment Lindsay walked fast in front of the glass walls of the lab.

"Linds, wait!" Stella blocked her.

"I need to go to Mac. The equipment has been repaired and I have some interesting results."

"Mac is with Sinclair right now, just tell me and then we'll inform him too."

"The cotton fibers refer to a specific component called Caltex. It is used in a experimental research to create special covers. Well, this component can provide heat but can also maintain it and create a kind of micro-climate based on the body temperature. The particularity is that we have either cotton – a natural texture – and a synthetic texture combined and it's not something very common on the market. And...", she stepped closer to her coworkers, touching the screen of the tablet she was holding, "only few companies here in Manhattan use it."

"Great. Adam, put the car search on hold. I need the list of the employees. Lindsay, you did a good job."

She didn't answer but started helping Adam.

A/N: I don't think something like Caltex exists. I hope this is plausible.