Chapter 5

"Good find on that gun yesterday."

Ryan's hazel green eyes widened more than usual. "Uh, thanks."

"No, really, I mean it." Eric tried to give the new guy as reassuring a look as he could. Calleigh had heard Eric giving Ryan a hard time when they first returned to the lab the previous afternoon and she had given him a proper reaming out. He had to agree with her. Both knew no one could replace Speed but that was no reason to give the new guy a hard time.

"You think Calleigh will be able to get anything from it?"

"If anyone can, the gun girl can. She's the best."

"Gun girl? Is that what they call her?"

Delko guided the hummer into the school parking lot. "Only the jealous ones don't."

After passing through the high school's security system, showing their badges and that their guns were securely strapped into their holsters, the two CSI detectives made their way to the principal's office. By the time they arrived at the door, Eric was lagging back a few steps.

"Delko? What's up? You look nervous."

"Just old memories I guess."

"Were you a troublemaker at school?"

"Not really. I just had a…," he paused with a grin. "I guess you'd call it a sense of humor that sometimes got away from me. Mostly it was in gym class."

"You weren't a bully were you?"

"No way. I'd just do things like get the other big guys in scrimmage mad by saying I saw their sisters making eyes at some smart guy that they knew they couldn't touch. Or sometimes, in the rope climbing, I'd shake the rope a little and slow the quicker guys down. If the coach caught me, I'd have to go talk to the principal. Believe me, Sister Euphemia had a way of talking that had me with my tail between my legs for days."

"Well, come on, I went to a Baptist school so I'll protect you."

Ryan could feel the two dark eyes drilling holes into the back of his neck as they walked to the reception desk and announced their mission.

While waiting, they received two different kinds of stares from students who came and went. One was openly curious and speculative. The other type was one of suspicion and fear. The two kept their eyes lowered, not acknowledging either kind of look.

"Hey, did your high school look like this one?" Delko kept his voice low.

"Almost the same, just not as many kids."

"How can schools be the same in states eighteen hundred miles apart?"

"Once I visited a cousin out in Los Angeles and his school was nearly the same. There were a more outdoor lockers but that's all."

The principal came to the door and motioned the two to enter, not giving recognition to any others who had been waiting before the two CSIs arrival.

Closing the door the five and a half foot tall man put out his hand. "Gentlemen, I'm Principal Boris Gatsby. Have a seat. How can I help you?" The light skinned black man walked around to behind his desk and took a seat. His tired eyes shined darkly behind the steel rimmed glasses.

Sitting in the heavy oak wood chair, Delko spoke first. "I imagine you've heard the news about Deeshawn Cook?"

Gatsby's forehead wrinkled as he nodded. His balding dome gleamed and dimmed under the fluorescent lights with each movement. "I did indeed. The school observed a moment of silence for him this morning. What a terrible shame. He had such promise."

"We came to ask about what you might know about his social activities, his friends."

"Hmm, ah, yes, well, let me see. I'm afraid I generally don't know too much about the social lives of the kids that are never in trouble. In today's world my work is trying to convince the ones that cause grief to find another outlet." Gatsby shrank back into his chair. "Oh, I know, let me pull up his records. That will tell us something." He turned to the computer on his desk and typed at the keyboard for a moment. After a moment of examining the screen, scrolling down a few times, nodding to himself, he finally said, "Ah, yes, he belonged to the school's math club. That is overseen by the head of our math department, Ms. Huerta. She should be able to tell you about his relationships there."

"Did he belong to any other clubs or associations?"

After another glance at the screen he said, "Um, well, ah, yes he did belong to the National Honor Society but our school doesn't have an active chapter." At that moment, the distant sound of the class change bell could be heard echoing down the halls. "Maybe Ms. Huerta will be able to answer more questions. You'll have to excuse me gentlemen. I have to help with the herd." He smiled apologetically. "I think Ms. Huerta has this next period free." He directed the two to the teacher's lounge.

After walking the melee of the crowded halls, students going in all directions, talking on cell phones or each other, laughing, opening and closing lockers, the quiet of the teacher's lounge was a shock.

A woman sitting at a desk in the far corner looked up and smiled. "After a while, you don't notice the difference between there and here so much as being thankful for it."

"Ms. Huerta?" Seeing her nod, Delko introduced himself and Ryan.

"About Deeshawn, I'm guessing. How can that happen? We drill the kids all day about being supportive and caring, they nod like little bobble head dolls and, then this. I'd like to just put them all in their lockers and not let them out until they're about forty-five or so."

The voice coming out of the face with a topknot of hair reminded them both of past teachers they had had in years past.

The woman looked at the patient faces, seeing they were waiting for her to wind down. "Oh, I'm sorry. Too long a teacher I guess. How I can help you?" Her appearance softened and ten years dropped away.

Before Delko could even finish his explanation, she opened the lap top on the desk and started typing. A moment later, she was giving the two the names of the math club members. "Of those, Deeshawn's friends were Bittor Boll, Melvin Hsu, and Winton Dan. The other two boys in the club were older and didn't seem supportive. But then, I didn't know what happened outside of the club activity. And then there was Letitia. She was, well, she was hurt by every word ever spoken or thought, poor dear."

"Would you say the ones not in Deeshawn's group felt left out?"

"No, I don't think so. The other two boys had their own friends and were bigger in stature. Letitia, well, smart as she was she just couldn't adjust socially. So many of the academically adept are that way. I don't think I ever saw her in any group outside of the club. I don't even know where she ate lunch. It's one of the pains of the teen years. Thank goodness, most grow out of it."

"And were they all equally good in math?"

"Deeshawn and Letitia were neck and neck in understanding mathematical concepts. Either one could figure out equations they had never seen before with lightning speed. The rest, well, the process just took longer but they enjoyed doing it. Belonging to a club doesn't mean you're good at the subject."

"Were they all friends?"

"About as friendly as high school kids can be at this age. Remember, they have hormones so friendship is a love or hate relationship and that changes from moment to moment."

"Is there any way to talk to these kids?"

An hour later, the first of the math club members sat facing them from across a long table.

"Yeah," said Rick Taylor, "Deeshawn was a good guy. He was smarter than all of us in math. Can I go now? I have football practice in a few minutes."

Bittor Delvallo showed a bit of resentment in that Deeshawn spent more time helping his personal friends than him. Aside from that, he admitted that Deeshawn was smart and friendly.

Letitia could barely mumble through the shoulder length hair than nearly covered her face. Deeshawn was alright she guessed; she didn't know. They never talked about what they knew in math. Her feet constantly shifted beneath the long dark skirt but her hands, stuffed into the wide sleeves of her blouse were still.

Two hours later they faced Melvin Hsu. His oval face was nearly overwhelmed by round oversized plastic rimmed glasses. "For once I'm glad my parents taught me Taoism. I shall seek the way to find peace after this upsetting event."

To their next question he answered, "Except for our common joy in discussing mathematical concepts, I knew almost nothing of his life. Perhaps that is a fault I shall have to examine. For now, I have no answers as to why anyone would kill him."

When Melvin left the room, the two men looked at each other in stunned disbelief.

"I thought he was going to disappear in a blue mist, not walk out the door."

Eric shook his head in equal disbelief. "Or at least lapse into Yoda talk."

After the nervous dark retirement of Letitia and the measured calm of Melvin, Tad was a breath of fresh air. His smile was quick though with a hint of sadness. His curly brown hair had recently been cut making his pimpled chubby cheeks seem slightly more prominent than they might have been with more hair. "I don't know if I was his 'best' friend but we were pretty tight. Mostly the four of us would hang out in his room, mostly playing games. That was until his Dad got killed. That was sure a bummer. Mr. Cook was really a good guy. He'd barbecue hot dogs for us and talk about his time fighting in Desert Storm and all."

"How about the other kids in the club?"

Tad shrugged his shoulders. "They were alright, I guess. We just weren't in their league outside of the club. They were more like the cool kids and all. They talked good math but mostly didn't get it."

"And the girl, Letitia? Was she a cool kid?"

"Her? No way! I don't know what her case was but for sure she wasn't cool. Her only point was that the only one she couldn't beat in math was Deeshawn. She'd spin latinum rings around the rest of us."

"How did Deeshawn feel about that; did he say?"

"He admired the way she could reason through a problem. He'd always say, 'It's different, that's for sure.'"

Bell after bell heralded class changes which were signaled by the thundering shuffle of feet. When the last bell sounded and their last interviewee, the chubby Winton Dan looked at them with pleading eyes, they stood and let him go.

"Know anything more than we did this morning?" asked Delko.

"How much high school has changed in seventeen years. My math club was all about the advisor handing us a sheet of problems to solve in a set amount of time. Discussing mathematical concepts? Whew!"

"Were you as strange as Melvin or Letitia?"

Wolfe smiled nervously. "What, me? No. We were just would-be CSIs is all."

Delko clapped a hand onto Wolfe's shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't tell. Now let's go find Ms. Huerta. I want to ask her some more questions."

The found her in the lounge, at the same table, looking a little more worn than when they had talked to her in mid-morning.

"We talked with the kids during the day. Now I'd like to get your take on how they interacted. From what they said, there was no animosity but I kind of got the idea there was some sort of competition between Deeshawn and Letitia."

"For Deeshawn, being better at math was a given, had been all of his life. To meet someone and a girl no less who was as good or even better in some respects kind of hurt his pride I think. He took it all in stride though, trying to learn what she knew. Letitia on the other hand had something driving her to be the winner in math. She seemed to feel crushed when she couldn't solve a problem as quickly as Deeshawn. When someone else bested her she'd nearly cry. The boys just didn't know how to handle that so they distanced themselves from her. I don't know if she even noticed, she was so removed in her own way."

"I can see you really cared about these kids, got involved with them so this is perhaps a difficult question, "Do you think any of them took the rivalry seriously enough to kill Deeshawn?"

Ms. Huerta tried to shake her head and didn't seem to be able to. "They took everything so very intensely. Every test was a life or death struggle, their whole future at stake. As often as not, competitions were team efforts with one or two leading them all to success. There was one competition coming up though that is like that for them. The difference being that of all the teams, the student that scores the most points goes up against the other winners in the other teams until only one is left. There is prize money to be held in trust to pay for any college of their choice. It is invested and, depending on how well the investment goes, it could pay for tuition and books for up to two years. We had high hopes for Deeshawn. But would any of these kids kill for the chance to go to college? I'd like to say no."

Ryan raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That's a hefty sum. Then, while going to school, you could work and save enough for the next two years."

"I'm not sure I can get these kids back on track now. Math, even at this level takes so much concentration."

# # #

An hour later, they were discussing the day's discoveries with Horatio.

"And there was a competition coming up?"

"Ms. Huerta said kids take all tests as serious as a heart attack. Something like this would sure have put competitors in overdrive."

"Where was the competition taking place?"

"In the Miami Convention Center. It started three months ago as a statewide competition all over Florida with all of the schools in local games. Now it's been winnowed down to five teams. The other teams are located nowhere near Miami."

"So, even though a team win would have been points for their school, one kid would still walk away with all of the prize money."

Ryan looked up at his boss and nodded. "That's about it. Are you thinking one of the math club members did this?"

Horatio resolutely set his face. "Right now, I'm not thinking anything. I'm suggesting we wait to see where the evidence leads us."

"So, H, what's our next move?"

"How about paying a visit to the kids' homes and taking prints? Calleigh has a partial palm print on the butt and a partial finger on the trigger. Let's see what we can get from that. It will also give us a chance to meet the parents."

"Are we hoping for a gun collection with one spot empty?" Ryan was half joking.

Horatio took a step back and a bow to the truth, "Stranger things have happened Mr. Wolfe.

"Give all of the club members' parents a call and set up as many appointments as possible. Should anyone try to put you off, get search warrants." His voice carried his hope that the action wouldn't be necessary.

Horatio turned to go to his loft office when Calleigh came striding down the hall.

"Horatio, I talked with Ms. Lorento this morning. Well, her and the family. It was pretty hard to get a straight answer from her. Different members of the family kept adding and correcting with their own impressions."

"Family can do that, can't they?"

"I did get to spend a few minutes with the daughter. She thought that Deeshawn was bullied like all smart kids but it was more like teasing, not physical abuse. Part of that was that he was pretty tight with the three friends. He also had some street smarts, knew how to avoid any tormenters."

"Did anyone else besides his friends know where he had moved after his father's death?"

"I guess we'll have to find that out.

"Oh, by the way, Alexx and I came up with a working theory about the shooter's height."

He turned so that he his shoulder was in line with Calleigh's shoulder with a slight smile. "Do tell."

"First, I have to tell you that when I went into the morgue I nearly had a heart attack. No one mentioned how Beeks resembled Speed."

Horatio turned to face Calleigh with a look of concern. "I thought you had seen him at the canal. I am so sorry."

"You couldn't have known." She shrugged. "I'll recover. Does Eric know?"

"Let's make sure he knows before he has reason to go talk to Alexx."

"So right. Anyway, Alexx and I were able to note the angle of the path the bullet took through the glass. Figuring the angle of the bullet's entry into the body and marking it through from where he was standing and then noting the angle of the path through the glass all the way out to the street, if it was a drive-by the shooter was laying down on a skateboard. Considering the unlikelihood of that and calculating the next place the shooting might have taken place which was the sidewalk, then the shooter was between five feet and five foot six depending on how the gun was held."

"So, that covers anyone between the ages of thirteen and ninety in Miami. That gives us perhaps a quarter of the population that might be inclined to shoot someone at any given time." He cocked his head towards his right shoulder and bounced his eyebrows.

Calleigh smiled brightly. "Meaning we have eliminated a little over one three quarters of the entire population if you consider that some people are extremely tall or extremely short for their age and more or less likely to be violent."

"If what Eric and Ryan have discovered holds true, our odds might be even better." He went on to explain what he knew of the math club.

"I can hardly wait to get those prints. I don't know Horatio; it seems like anyone with math smarts would figure out that shooting someone, especially during the day doesn't add up to be very good odds. But, I guess stranger things have happened."

"Indeed they have as we both well know."