A/N: New chapter-thank you for reading!
Out There
Chapter 11
Conrad Ecklie. Of course, someone in law enforcement had checked out the guy who had opened the barrel. And pretty quickly, Sara's name had been mentioned.
Adrian Lee had asked a few questions and Ecklie had gone beyond answers and given a glowing history of Sara Sidle and Gil Grissom's work as crime scene investigators.
"Both of you would provide a level of investigation that our team does not have," explained Lee. When Sara and Grissom showed reluctance, he said, "It's a young team here—I know you have a few more days of your holiday—one or two days would help."
Grissom was immediately ready to help but he waited for Sara. When she began asking questions about the local team, the facilities available, he knew her mind was shifting.
Later, when alone in their cabin, Grissom said, "Adrian is a nice guy—we can check the situation tomorrow—maybe help. I don't want to step on toes."
Sara, back to her regular pajamas, stretched across the bed next to him. His new book lay open to the first pages.
"Where's the red thing?" he asked as he lifted his arm to hug her.
"The 'red thing' is for one night a year!" Laughing, she snuggled into the hug, taking a deep breath, enjoying the embrace. "And I'm exhausted—and our detective is picking us up early."
Grissom kept his arm around her. "You ate today."
Sara nodded. "Maybe it's gone—or maybe it's a Christmas gift." Pausing a moment, she said, "It's funny—I ate and never felt sick, not even nausea—does it go away that quickly."
Closing his book and placing it beside the bed, Grissom said, "You may be sick tomorrow—the barrel smelled bad—guys were gagging in the open air. I can't imagine what it will be to empty it. Maybe empty all three at the same time—get the worst of it over and figure out who they were. I think it had to be drug deal gone bad. Adrian said the morgue is several years old and we'd have good masks, but not sure those will help. The building should be well ventilated—I hope the investigators and the coroner are…" He felt rhythmic, slower breathing and looked at his wife. She was asleep.
Early the next morning, Sara and Grissom were waiting when Adrian Lee pulled up in a bright red SUV. Grissom took Sara's arm, saying, "Your shirt matches the car—you look nice."
She smirked and grinned, "I'm trying to make a good impression before we all puke."
As Grissom opened the passenger door, Lee said, "Rental—candy apple red," and laughed. After they were seated, Sara riding as front passenger, he said, "The situation is not quite as I'd been told. The barrels were delivered to the local morgue earlier—which is being renovated so we will be working in an adjunct area." He paused. "It's a former gym."
Sara asked, "Is it ventilated?"
"Yes—set up looks good—adequate." He glanced at Sara. "The chief medical examiner is half-way around the world. The second examiner is sick with flu. So we get the local coroner—he's a GP and the last autopsy he did was five or six years ago."
Grissom made a groan; Sara said, "If the bodies are bloated—or sludge—may not be much to autopsy."
"That foot had not turned to sludge," said Grissom.
This time, Lee groaned. "I really don't like what I'm hearing."
"Wait until you smell it!"
Sara managed to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing.
Detective Lee said, "That's not everything—the medical examiner's office has four full-time employees. One is the secretary. One is off the island. That leaves two—one has had the job for years, the other has been working two months. The police chief said he'd call the part-time people in." This time, he checked Grissom in the rear view mirror.
"Okay, now tell us who is in charge," Grissom said.
Lee made two quick turns before he answered. "Technically, I'm in charge."
The car rolled to a stop in front of a square block building with a row of high windows and an overhanging metal roof. Looking closely, Sara was certain the windows were covered with fine mesh screen and open.
Outside, a group of six people, four women, two men, in civilian clothing stood on one side of the door. Four men in law enforcement uniforms were leaning against a dark blue car.
Detective Lee turned to Sara, saying, "We've got an audience."
Sara gave a wide grin and said, "Let's see how many are still standing after the first barrel is opened."
It took some time for introductions; Grissom made a mental note to write his name on a piece of tape, stick it to a disposable gown, and encourage the others to do the same. The coroner had not arrived, but had sent word to start without him. Detective Lee, in his role as person in charge, decided he was over his head and looked at Sara.
"What if I put you in charge of this? I have no idea what to do first—and you have the right credentials."
She almost refused then realized the only way to get started was to be in charge. She nodded.
Lee got everyone's attention and announced Sara would be the lead on assigning work. He explained how the barrels were found, taken to Pearl Harbor by the Coast Guard and when the officers in command insisted there were no missing military persons, Honolulu police were called and refused the barrels going up the chain of command until the State Attorney's office got it. And sent Detective Lee back to Hilo with the barrels, not, he insisted, to be dumped on the locals but—several snickers interrupted his talk.
"We'll get it done—chances are these three people have been reported missing."
Sara had already identified the one long-time employee; she asked the woman to take one table and select two others to work with her. Grissom took the second table, Sara the third. She asked several questions, including how many had experience with a body that had been in a sealed container. None had.
"Okay," she said. "This is going to smell bad—probably the most awful stench you've ever smelled. Suit up, cover up, wear a mask, two if you can." She turned to Grissom, asking, "Do you think we should open the barrels at the same time or wait a while?"
Grissom nodded his head. "At the same time—turn on the ventilation fans and get used to it."
The local police were there more out of curiosity but, once inside, everyone pulled on the one-piece jumpsuits. Sara opened a box of hair coverings and passed one to Grissom.
"It will help, dear."
He pulled a face but took the blue cap and when he pulled it over his hair, all the men took one. Masks went across mouths and noses, clear shields covered faces, long gloves covered hands and arms well above elbows.
The building was cavernous with three stainless steel autopsy tables at one end, about ten feet apart. There were several additional tables set up, a dozen chairs stacked near one wall, and a long cabinet already open and filled with needed supplies. Several trash cans and buckets were near the tables. The three barrels had been placed near the postmortem tables. Overhead fans turned slowly and a long ventilation box made a low humming sound.
Following his earlier thought, Grissom found a roll of wide tape and wrote his name on a piece, stuck it to his jumpsuit, handed the tape to Sara so she could do the same. Adrian Lee did the same. And without a word, each person wrote their name on tape and stuck it to their chests.
The police officers spread out, well away from the tables, while the others collected supplies and gathered around the tables.
The group talked about the use of barrels and where one might find similar containers. Sara was surprised to learn the barrels were common, used to hold water and food, used in horse shows, and a dozen other uses for storage.
"The hardware stores sell them as rain barrels," said one of the policemen.
The hesitation to open the barrels was obvious until Sara raised a claw-like tool and wacked the bolt on the rim of the first barrel. Before she could waver, she did the same to the second and third barrels.
Hurried footsteps toward the door meant someone was heading outside; another moment and another pair of feet followed. The reek of decomp was almost over-powering; several people made gagging sounds but none around the tables left.
It took four people to up-end a barrel and its contents onto a table.
Joan, the long-time employee, was the first to speak as a dark-colored gelatinous mass covered the table. "This is a dog!"
A mass of fur and bones appeared as thick liquid separated and ran into channels.
One of the younger men used his gloved hand to pick up a wad of fur. He said, "Long straight hair—sheep dog or a collie? Could come from one of the ranches."
As one, the group turned to the second table. Two of the policemen came closer. The same four lifted the second barrel and tipped it onto the table.
Sara said, "Definitely a human body."
Quickly, they turned to the third barrel, removed the lid, and emptied the contents on the last table. Another human body took shape—recognizable legs, arms, head—bloated and melting.
Grissom reached into the muck and pulled out an identifiable object. He held it up, saying, "We've got a rubber glove—Playtex, I think."
A/N: Sara and Grissom on the case with 2 dead bodies! More to come...take a second to send a message letting us know what you think!