A/N: New chapter time and a couple of familiar faces are about to say hello. One more welcome than the other I'm sure ;)
A huge thank you to my current Pat reon supporters – Nat, Mrs Crabby, Dbackfan, AliceC, ChristineS, DawnS, Jillian, IngridT, Tracer85, NiniZ and NancyB.
Always, thank you to calim for the beta, suggestions and friendship :)
On we go….
Chapter 21
As she exited from the building, Catherine spotted Folsom hightailing it after their suspect as he ran across the yard towards the main gate.
"Let's get the car," Serena said as she ran toward it and jumped in, turning on the ignition as Catherine settled in beside her.
Smashing down the gas pedal, the car reversed quickly then sped from the complex.
As he gave chase, Folsom ran across a side street and towards an industrial area watching as their suspect slipped into an alleyway. Slowing a bit as he pulled out his firearm, he noticed there was no one in the alley but himself.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, Folsom surveyed the area. Rows of dumpsters lined the alley walls along with a large amount of cardboard boxes. He could be anywhere just waiting to jump him. This had escalated much faster than he'd expected.
"You've still got a chance to come out, Buddy!" he hollered. "Before this turns into a real mess for you."
To his absolute surprise, Jack stepped out from a dumpster with his hands in the air looking rather regretful. Folsom quickly grabbed him and threw him against the wall.
"Why the hell did you do that?" he panted, putting his gun away and keeping a firm grip on the man's shoulders.
"I'm sorry," Jack cried. "I just panicked."
"Panicked? Could have gotten yourself shot."
As he said that, the flash of red and blue hit the alleyway and Folsom looked behind him as Serena pulled her car to a screeching halt. With haste, she jumped out and dashed towards them, pulling out her cuffs and taking over from the CSI.
"Are you okay?" she asked Folsom as she slapped on the cuffs.
"Yeah," he replied casually. "Just the regular Las Vegas work out."
Catherine caught up, looking Jack up and down as Serena swung him around now he was in custody.
She lifted her eyebrows at him. "I guess you need to tell your boss that you need the rest of the day off."
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Thanking Emma and Mia for their co-operation, Grissom and Sara left the house, evidence bag in hand, and returned to their car.
"I still can't believe we walked out of there with something physical to go off," Sara said, opening the car door.
"Me either," Grissom agreed as he walked around to the passenger side and they both got in.
Dropping the bag onto the backseat, Sara then placed a hand on Grissom's knee.
"Feeling all right?" He nodded and she smiled. "Back to the lab?"
"Yeah," he agreed. "Probably a good idea to let Max know what we've found here and get this new find examined."
"Definitely." She started the engine. "I wonder if Max has sent anyone to Desert Palms yet."
Grissom shrugged. "Let's go find out."
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Inside a processing room, Beau and Chris examined contents from the trash cans. Tub upon tub of garbage piled up around the room. Each one needed to be examined with a fine toothcomb. Any one of them could contain that vital clue they were looking for.
However, one occupant of the room didn't feel that positive about the current task at hand.
"How are we ever going to find anything in this mess?" Chris griped as he pulled a chicken carcass dripping with goo from a tub, his nose screwing up. "Man, this stinks."
"The joy of Las Vegas heat," Beau said, taking a set of tweezers and plucking out a piece of paper of some form.
Dropping it into a dish, he took a liquid and washed the paper before carefully unfolding it with the tweezers. Suddenly a frown hit his brow and he blinked, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him or not.
"Oh, boy," he said when he realized they weren't.
"What?" Chris asked drawing close.
Picking up a magnifying glass, Beau enhanced the paper. "It's a prescription."
Now it was Chris' turn to frown as he recognized the name on the prescription. Looking at Beau, they shared the same confusion.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
After being informed Max was in her office, Grissom and Sara headed down the corridor, stopping when they reached her closed door seeing she was talking to someone.
Grissom rapped his knuckles against the glass and Max beckoned them inside. Opening the door, both Grissom and Sara froze when Nora Cross turned in her seat to face them. Smiling, she stood.
"We meet again," she said, holding out her hand to Grissom.
Eyes flicking to Sara with uncertainly, Grissom reached out and shook the IA agent's hand.
"Don't look so nervous," Nora implored. "I'm here to help if I can. But this time let's try and be open with each other, okay?"
Grissom nodded. "We can live with that."
Nora's eyes flicked to Sara. "Good. Why don't we sit for a minute?"
The couple exchanged another look before sitting down, Sara placing her case down on the floor.
"Nora is here to assist us," Max told them. "IA has agreed to keep the current… situation quiet, for now anyway, as long as Nora knows what's going on." Grissom nodded. "How did it go with Mrs. Jones?" Max asked.
Opening her case, Sara took out the evidence bag with the note and slid it across the desk. With a look of curiosity, Max picked it up.
"We found it in Meryl's room at her mother's," Sara said. "Apparently there was an ex-boyfriend who wasn't too happy she broke off their relationship."
Handing the note to Nora to look at Max sat back. "Do we know who it is?"
Grissom shook his head. "No. But Mrs. Jones said he works at Desert Palms or, at least, he did at the time Meryl worked there. He was the reason she moved jobs because he wouldn't leave her alone."
Nora turned to Grissom. "Do you know anyone who works at Desert Palms?" Grissom looked at her. "I mean, these murders are personally aimed at you, correct? So, would you know this so-called boyfriend?"
Lips pouting, Grissom slowly shook his head. "There is no one at the hospital I know on a personal basis."
"Maybe they just know you?" Nora suggested.
"I really don't know," Grissom admitted.
A knock at the door broke up the conversation and Penny stepped in.
"Sorry to disturb you," she apologized. "Catherine said to let you know they are going in to interview Jack Flynn."
"Thanks, Penny," Max replied.
"Who's that?" Sara asked.
"Guy from the garbage depot," Max told them, getting up. "I'd like to look in, so I'll catch up with you afterwards about Mrs. Jones and Desert Palms?"
"Sure," Grissom said. "We can process the note in the meantime."
Max nodded. "Sounds like a plan. I'll come and find you in a little while."
"Do you mind if I tag along?" Nora asked Grissom.
His eyebrows rose at the request, eyes flicking to Sara before he cleared his throat.
"Sure."
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Catherine placed a folder on the table as she sat down opposite Jack Flynn, Folsom sitting next to her.
Jack held up his cuffed hands. "Can you please take these off?"
The CSI's looked at each other.
"That depends if you're going to co-operate with us or not, Jack," Folsom replied. "Your little running stunt hasn't left us feeling particularly trustful."
"Look I'm sorry I ran okay," Jack apologized. "Sometimes I act before I think."
"Interesting thing to admit," Catherine said.
Frowning, Jack dropped his hands onto the table. "I just make bad decisions. I get nervous. But fine, I'll do whatever you say. Just take these damn things off."
Catherine nodded to the officer standing in the corner of the room who approached and removed the cuffs.
"Right," Catherine began, "now that we're all happy, would you be so kind as to take off your boots and put them onto the table."
Jack looked confused. "You want my boots?" Catherine nodded. "Why?"
Opening the folder in front of her, Catherine took out a piece of paper and slid it across to the suspect.
"Because I have a warrant that says I can."
"Fine," Jack replied with a huff, pushing the chair back.
Folsom watched as Jack began removing his boots. His eye twitched when he noticed the man's hands shake. It sort of reminded him of Anwar Hassan their suspect from last year who owned the swingers club. He'd experienced a stroke which caused his hands to shake and not work as they should. But this was different. Jack could still use his hands, but they were by no means stable.
"Can I go now?" Jack asked as he placed his boots on the table and sat back.
Folsom smirked as Catherine picked them up, first turning the left one over to see the sole and then the right. Holding the right one up for Folsom to see, he nodded and reached for his kit.
"I'm afraid not," Catherine told him pointing to the underside of the shoe. "You see that void in the tread?"
Frowning, Jack's gaze fell to the boot, and he nodded. "Yeah. So?"
"So," Catherine continued handing the boot to her colleague who began making an impression of the sole, "the damage to the bottom of your boot I'm sure was caused by stubbing out your cigarettes over a period of time."
Jack laughed. "Is that a crime?"
With a smirk, Catherine took out a photograph of their impression from the crime scene.
"No," she answered, watching as Folsom placed the new impression over the crime scene one. "But your shoeprint, outside the window of a murder victim, very well may be."
Looking rather shocked, Jack's eyes fixed on the impressions. "Um…, look I can explain that."
Smiling, Catherine folded her arms. "We're all ears."
Letting out a huge sigh, Jack held his hands up.
"Look, I'm married, okay and I have a baby daughter. My wife and I are already having enough problems. You won't tell her anything, will you?"
"That all depends what you have to say," Folsom informed him.
Jack sighed again, slumping defeated in his chair. "Meryl and I, well, we… had an affair. My wife doesn't know anything about it."
"When?" Catherine asked.
"Four, five months ago."
Frowning, Catherine exchanged another look with her colleague. "How long did the relationship last?"
"Few weeks."
Catherine's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't explain why your footprints were found at her house yesterday. Must mean you've been there in the last few days."
"My wife and I had another argument. I drink. A lot. We're always fighting." He let out another sigh. "Meryl had this kinda hold on people. Even if she dumped you, you still wanted more. I went around to her place, but she didn't answer. I saw a light on so I checked around the house to see if I could see her, get her attention. The bedroom window was open, so I waited for a little while. Assumed maybe she was in the bath or something. But she never appeared, so I left."
Rubbing his chin, Folsom thought for a second. "When was that?"
"Three days ago."
"What did you do then?" Catherine asked.
"Went home. Slept on the couch. Then spent my two days off on a bender with some pals around Vegas. Told my wife I was going to visit my brother."
"You sound like a model father, Mr. Flynn," Catherine remarked.
Jack stared at Catherine. "Don't judge me, lady. You don't know me. I pick up garbage for a living. Married a women because she got pregnant. Life stinks. Literally."
Catherine and Folsom looked at each other and Catherine nodded to the door.
"Stay put," Folsom ordered. "We'll be right back."
Jack shrugged as the CSI's got up and left the room to join Max who was watching through the glass.
"So, what do you think?" Folsom asked as she looked at him. "You saw it didn't you?"
"His hands shaking?" Max nodded. "Yeah I saw it. There's no way he could have been the killer. Not shaking like that. I doubt he could even cut a piece of paper in one go let alone a throat or a body into precise pieces."
"Pretty typical for an alcoholic," Catherine said. "And he sounds like one."
"Yeah," Max agreed.
"Funnily enough I actually believe his story," Folsom told them. Max looked back at him. "Those footprints had to have been made in the last few days and we know the victim has been dead a week. Why would he be hanging around outside her bedroom if he knew she was already dead?"
Max looked back through the glass. "It's not unheard of that killers return to their scenes. He may still be involved somehow."
"We need to find out his whereabouts around the time the victim was killed," Catherine added.
"Yeah," Max agreed then answered her cellphone as it rang. "Okay, thanks. I'll be right there. Sorry," she said to the two. "I have to go meet someone, but I'll catch up with you later about what Mr. Flynn has to say, okay?"
"And if his story checks out?" Catherine asked.
"Let him go," Max said. "But make sure he doesn't leave town."
Heading toward reception, Max grabbed a folder from her office then made her way to the main desk. The receptionist pointed to a man in the waiting area reading a magazine.
Taking a breath, she approached then stopped in front of him.
"Doctor Lurie?"
A/N: Dun dun duuuuunnnn… How will Grissom react if he crosses paths with a certain someone?