Part 9/?
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Grissom watched the SUV drive away into the darkness, the
expression on his face unreadable. A flash of light drew his
attention back to the crime scene that still needed processing. It
was a daunting task to face on his own. He had called in
Catherine to assist Sara and himself because it had turned out a
much more involved case for them all. Pulling out his cell phone,
he quickly hit the speed dial for a familiar number. The phone
was answered quickly after only two rings.
"Warrick. How are you going with the 419?"
"Hey Griss. Just finished at the scene. We're headed back to
the lab right now," responded Warrick, his voice distorted, the
intermittent reception of the cell phone service playing havoc with
their discussion as the car moved back towards the city centre.
"I need you and Nick to help me finish up evidence collection
here. Drop off your evidence at the lab and get over here asap."
"Okay, what's the address?" Warrick asked, quickly jotting
down the location as Grissom relayed it to them. He warned
them that it was another gruesome scene with complications.
Warrick found his disclosure unusual. Grissom usually kept these
details close to his chest, or only revealled them in person. To do
so over the cell phone, made him wonder what was wrong.
There was an underlying concern in Grissom's voice that had him
speculating. "How's Sara holding up?"
"She's at the hospital," Grissom answered curtly, not needing the
reminder of the current emotional and physical state of his CSI.
"Get here as soon as you can." With that, he cut off the
connection, moving back towards the house.
The night air was now still as if the brutal discovery within the
home had caused nature to go into quiet mourning. The
coroner's department was moving the another body out of the
house and into its van, the fourth for the night which filled the final
space in its rear. As John shut the doors on the ravaged remains
of a family, another black vehicle pulled up haphazardly beside
it, lights flashing. David hopped out of the car with another
assistant.
"David; we've got an extra one for you out back." Grissom
nodded towards the house and led the way through the crime
scene.
"Detective Brass told me what happened," David commented,
his cell phone grasped in his hand and carrying his case in the
other. "Frightening stuff. How's Sara?"
"At the hospital," Grissom answered, his words clipped. Noting
the concerned look on David's face, he continued, "she's fine."
He said it to reassure himself as much as for David.
"Oh. That's good." David followed Grissom towards the back
of the house. "So the mother was the killer, huh?"
"Possibly."
"I though that the mother admitted to killing her kids."
"Nothing is concrete. We will all interpret the evidence without
letting other events cloud our judgement."
"Good, you're back," Jim commented, breaking his pacing of the
footpath leading up to the porch area. Despite the fact that he
was used to seeing dead bodies, he had found it rather macabre
and disconcerting to stand watch over them alone.
David looked at the scene before him. It wasn't necessary to
determine time of death by the usual method since it had been
witnessed and could be accurately assessed. Moving around the
body, he conducted a couple of examinations and made some
notes before finally beginning his collection of the victim - or
murder suspect, depending on which way you looked at it.
"Interesting void in the pattern," he remarked, waving his hand to
indicate the blood splatter pattern.
"Sara," Grissom answered, his eyes capturing all David's
movements around the victim, carefully stepping to avoid the
evidence on the ground.
Grissom surveyed the new crime scene, his face grim. The
woman had shattered half her skull; blood and grey brain matter
coated the porch. Except for one distinct area; the small area
where they had found Sara curled into a ball, her arms covering
her head, trying to protect herself from unexpected danger. It
had been the first time he had ever seen her scared.
It was so easy to imagine the scene that Sara had been faced
with earlier that night. An unstable woman, waving a gun
unsteadily at her as she had been caught unaware, processing the
crime scene. Her dive to the ground to avoid the lethal projectile.
Even in the early days of working with her, Sara had never
shirked away from a crime scene investigation. Volubly
expressed her distaste, but not once had she conveyed fear at
what she was investigating. Her need to excel in all that she did
meant that she had sought to work on cases that others would
find difficult. Her exposure to a wide range of crime scenes had
come not only from where she had trained, but also from her
drive to be the best at what she did. The bigger risk with Sara
was that she would get emotionally involved in the case as she
had done with Pamela Adler.
Looking at the spot where she had curled herself into as small a
target as possible had given him a margin of insight into how
frightened Sara had been for her life. The reality of how close
Sara had come to being a victim at this scene hit him with full
force.
David realised he had unintentionally drawn Grissom's attention
back to the shooting. His curiosity wondered what had
happened and how Sara had been caught in such an invidious
situation. Her job was to come in after the danger had passed.
What had gone wrong? Patience was going to go a long way
tonight. He knew that Grissom wasn't going to provide him with
a detailed exposition and he would have to wait until the LVPD
Express, as he had nicknamed the departmental grapevine, gave
him a more accurate picture. With the aid of his assistant, David
removed the body and left Grissom and Brass alone on the back
porch.
"Pretty gruesome," Jim commented, breaking the silence.
Grissom raised his eyebrows.
"To find one of your own caught in the line of fire."
Grissom felt his chest tighten as he remembered that this wasn't
the first time one of his own had been looking down the barrel of
a suspect's gun. Nick and Sara had both been lucky. A split
second; an unsteady, uncertain hand could have put both of them
in the morgue like Holly.
"It shouldn't have happened, Jim. I though the kid was involved.
His footprints are all over the place. I didn't even give a thought
about where the mother was."
"Don't be so hard on yourself. The initial call was
murder/suicide. You saw that it wasn't kosher. You did your
job. You're not psychic."
"In cases like these I wish I was."
"Grissom... you said the kid's footprints were all over the place?
"Yeah. On the stairs, in the girls' bedroom and outside the
study."
"What about out here?"
"Nope."
"The kid's telling us porkies. He said that he saw the brother out
the back here and immediately called us."
"Obviously he's covering something; the question is what?"
"I think I'm going to try and find out."
End Part 9/?