| Suspect - by kyrdwyn |
| Rated: R Spoilers: None Synopsis: The only suspect in a missing persons case is a member of the unit. |
 |
| CSI, Gil Grissom and company, and places and etc are all property of Anthony Zuiker, Alliance Atlantis, CBS, and other companies. They did not condone this fic, and I am not getting paid for it. I write because I want to. All other characters not appearing on CSI in any way, shape, or form that appear in this story are my property. If you have any comments - good or bad, feel free to e-mail me at: toxicrev@yahoo.com |
|
| Sara and Warrick entered the apartment of the missing woman and looked around curiously. If she had been forcibly taken from her apartment, she either hadn't fought or someone had cleaned up afterward. The living room in which they stood was immaculate, and they had a clear view into the kitchen and the dining room areas, which also appeared to be spotless. "Who called this in?" Warrick asked. "Neighbor did. Said she heard an argument between the missing woman and a man two nights ago, and hasn't seen her since - and they always have coffee together after our victim goes for her morning jog," Sergeant O'Reilly replied. "What's the victim's name?" Sara asked as she walked to the hallway that led to the rest of the apartment. "Carolyn Leigh Young. But you might be more familiar with her as C. L. West." "The writer? I didn't know she lived in Vegas." Sara stopped in the doorway of one of the bedrooms. "According to the complex manager, she's lived here for the past eight years, paid her rent on time, mostly keeps to herself. Neighbor's known her for a year, thought she was part of one of those dot.com at-home business people." O'Reilly followed Sara into the room. It was apparently where Carolyn Young did her writing. There was an oak desk with a computer monitor on top and papers full of handwritten notes spread across it. Sara opened the drawers to find it was the kind of desk that hid the rest of the computer. Across one wall was a large bookshelf crammed full of books, with other books in piles on the floor in front of it. Opposite the bookshelf was a leather couch with a book lying on the armrest. Sara peered at the title. "Hmm." "What?" asked Warrick as he came into the room, camera in hand. "What she was apparently reading - a book on crime scene investigations," Sara looked up at him with a grin. "Somehow, I think she would prefer the book to having us in her house," Warrick remarked as he snapped a picture of it. "Let's check out the other rooms." The other room was her bedroom. Her bed was neatly made, books stacked on one of the end tables. Her jewelry box sat on top of her dresser, apparently undisturbed. As Sara opened the dresser drawers, Warrick checked the nightstands. In the drawer of the nightstand with the books on top he found more books. "Damn, this woman reads a lot." "Hadn't noticed," Sara said as she pulled open a dresser drawer. Warrick shot her a disgusted look and went around to the other side of the bed. He pulled that drawer open and gave a low whistle. Sara came over to see what was so fascinating. "She apparently had a boyfriend," Warrick remarked. "Or a lot of one night stands," Sara mused, staring at the boxes of condoms. One was open and almost empty. "Neighbors said they heard her arguing with a man two nights ago." Sara shrugged. "Dust 'em. Maybe we'll get lucky." She ignored the 'why me' look from Warrick and moved on into the bathroom. It, too, was almost spotless. Her toothbrush and hairbrush were in holders on the vanity, and her make up and cosmetic products were all neatly arranged. Sara sighed. "It doesn't look like she went anywhere on her own." * * * * * Two hours later, the two CSIs returned to the lab, dropping the collected evidence off at the various departments for testing before wandering into their supervisor's office. "So, what does it look like?" Catherine asked them from behind Grissom's desk. "Looks like wherever she went, it wasn't her idea - looks like all her personal items are still in the apartment," Sara said. "Any leads?" "Neighbor heard her arguing with a man two nights ago, and that's about the last time anyone has seen or heard from her. She never saw the man, though," Warrick replied, dropping into a chair in front of the desk. "O'Reilly talked to the neighbor while we were in there, she said Young had a quote gentleman friend unquote who had been coming by in the past few months, but Young never said much about him to her." "Boyfriend?" Catherine asked. "Possibly, judging from the condoms found in her nightstand. We pulled a lot of prints out of her apartment that latent's running now. We'll see if we get a match. Got some hairs in the bathroom that don't look like they're the missing woman's." Warrick jumped in. "According to the neighbor and some pictures we found, Young had shoulder length black hair. These were shorter, a brownish-silver." "You two sound like you think she's dead," Catherine pointed out. "Any evidence to suggest that?" "Not that we know of…" Sara said slowly. "Well, go see if you can find out more about this gentleman friend of hers. Surely someone other than the neighbor saw him." Warrick stood up and he and Sara moved to the door. Out in the hallway, Sara turned to Warrick and said in a low voice, "You know, with the way she was talking, I'd almost swear Grissom hadn't gone to that conference." "I heard that!" * * * * * Carolyn Young's credit card receipts had been found in a box in her workroom. She was apparently a regular at a small Mexican restaurant a few blocks from her apartment. In the past six months, she'd eaten there at least twice a week. The manager of the restaurant recognized Carolyn immediately from her picture. "Yeah, I know her. She comes in a few times a week. Likes to sit in one of the back booths. Maria says she's often writing something while she eating." "Maria?" "One of my waitresses - works the evening shift. The lady usually sits in her section. Hang on - Maria!" The man gestured to a young Hispanic woman who was on her way into the kitchen. She came over to where the three were standing. "Maria, these people are with the police. They're asking about one of your regulars," the manager gestured at the picture Sara held. Maria looked at it. "Oh yeah - comes in a couple times a week. Haven't seen her this week, though. Shame, she's a good tipper. Her boyfriend, too." "Boyfriend?" Warrick asked. "Yeah, older guy. Tall, silver in his hair. Very quiet." "When was the last time you saw them?" Sara was making notes. Maria looked up at the ceiling as she searched her memory. "Last week, probably Thursday or Friday." "Did they seem like they were having problems or anything?" Maria shook her head at Warrick. "No. They were talking and smiling, as usual. He left before she did, but that wasn't unusual. I think he's a doctor - I've seen him checking his pager a few times before he's left. She usually stayed to finish eating and writing whatever she writes." "Thanks for your time." Sara said. Maria and the manager nodded and moved back to their work. Sara and Warrick went outside into the cool Vegas night. "So, as of last Thursday, which is the last time her credit card was used here, everything was fine and dandy between Carolyn Young and this mysterious doctor boyfriend of hers." "Possible doctor boyfriend," Warrick noted as he slipped behind the wheel of the Tahoe. "But sometime Wednesday night, she was heard arguing with someone who may or may not be this boyfriend. And now, she's missing." "And said boyfriend apparently isn't concerned about her, or he would have contacted the police himself. You thinking what I'm thinking?" Sara asked. "Yeah. He knows what happened to her." * * * * * When Sara and Warrick got to the lab at the start of their shift the next night, they found a pensive fingerprint technician waiting for them. "You get any hits from our missing woman's apartment?" Mandy frowned at Warrick. "Yeah, but I think you guys ought to have Catherine here before I give you the results." Sara and Warrick looked at each other. "What - did a uniform screw up and touch something without gloves?" Sara asked. Mandy shook her head. Catherine walked into the break room at that moment. "How's the missing person case going?" she asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Well, Mandy's got our fingerprint results but she wouldn't give them to us unless you were here." Catherine raised her eyebrows at Sara's statement and looked to the young lab tech. "Why?" "We got a compliance match on one set of prints that was lifted from the apartment." "Compliance? Someone in the department?" Catherine asked, setting her coffee down and reaching for the lab report. "Wait - you said it wasn't a uniform who messed up," Sara protested. Catherine looked up from the lab report, a stunned expression on her face. "It wasn't a uniform." Warrick held up his hands. "It wasn't either of us - we both had gloves on the entire time." Mandy shook her head. "Not either of you." "Then who?" Sara was getting frustrated. Catherine handed Sara the report. "They're Grissom's." * * * * * "That's him," Maria said, pointing to one of the pictures in the photo array Sgt. O'Reilly showed to her. "He was in here with that woman you said went missing." Catherine and O'Reilly looked at each other. "Thanks," Catherine said. Maria looked at them. "You don't think he did it, do you? I mean, he was always so nice - holding the door open for her and apologizing when he had to leave when he got paged. He even helped me clean up after I dropped their dinners one night - he was so nice about it. Even left me a good tip." The young woman looked worried. "We don't know what happened to her yet," Catherine said gently. "We're just trying to find out who was the last person to see her, and we'd like to find him so we can ask him about her." Maria nodded. "I haven't seen him since the last time he was in with her. He never comes in without her also being here, though she's been here without him." "Thank you," Catherine said. "You've been very helpful." Once outside, she and O'Reilly met up with Warrick and Sara. The younger CSIs could tell the news wasn't good. "Damn it," Sara said. "I know, I was hoping it was a mistake, too," Catherine said. "But it was a positive ID. Our missing woman's gentleman friend was Grissom." "Maybe it's not so bad," O'Reilly suggested. "She was a writer - a crime novelist. She could have been interviewing Grissom for research. She did have that crime scene book." The sergeant was as loathe to classify Grissom as a suspect as the CSIs were. Warrick shook his head. "I went back over where we pulled what prints. His prints were not only in the main living areas, but in her bedroom, including," he added with a pained grimace, "the condom boxes in the night stand." The group fell silent. "Let's head back to the lab and work this through before we officially name him a suspect." Catherine headed to the vehicle, the others following behind. * * * * * It was a solemn gathering of CSIs in Grissom's office. Nick had finished up the case he had been working and Catherine had filled him in on the Carolyn Young investigation. The four of them had the evidence before them in the office, with the door closed against prying ears. O'Reilly had gone back to his office, but had promised Catherine he'd stay silent on the matter. "Grissom's been in Los Angeles at that conference since Sunday, right?" Nick asked, looking to Catherine for confirmation. "He left Sunday for the conference," she confirmed. "He's supposed to be back tomorrow." "But he told me he was driving to Los Angeles rather than flying, and it's about a five hour drive," Sara pointed out. "It's possible he could have come back without letting any of us know, and then gone back to the conference. Neighbor said the argument was late at night." "Assuming he did - why? What motive could he have for this? Come on, guys - this is Grissom we're talking about. He's not likely to be leaving around evidence he knows could nail him - even if he did this." Nick's voice reflected his disbelief at the way the investigation was proceeding. "He could be counting on the fact that we would think that, so he didn't bother to hide anything," Warrick pointed out. "Yeah, assuming he knew we would catch the case. How would he know when she would be reported missing? You think Grissom would chance leaving evidence around if he believed Eckley would catch this? Eckley would be all over him in a heartbeat with the evidence we've got." "Nick's got a point," Sara said. "Yeah, but in the heat of passion, who knows what or if he was thinking about that," Warrick countered. "Are you trying to convict him?" "No, I'm just making sure we cover all possibilities, Nick. Same as we would in any case." "Well, I say we go back to the victim. What do we know about her, besides the fact that she was apparently dating Grissom?" Nick looked over at Catherine, silently begging her to back him up on the change in subject. Catherine looked down at the file. "Carolyn Leigh Young, 38 years old. She's lived in Las Vegas for the past eight years. Writes crime novels under the name C.L. West. According to her publisher, she moved out here after her husband was killed in a car accident." Catherine looked up, eyes narrowing. "Did you guys check her car?" Warrick and Sara looked at each other. "I didn't see any car keys in the apartment," Sara said. "I didn't think to check on that," Warrick admitted. "Do it. If it's not at her apartment, then either she went somewhere on her own or she was taken in her car. Nick - I want you to check inside her apartment, see if you can find anything that might have been overlooked the first time. Nothing against you or Warrick, Sara," she said as the younger woman looked about to protest, "just a set of fresh eyes." "What are you going to do?" Sara asked, almost challengingly. "I'm going to see what else I can find out about the argument she had with the unknown man." * * * * * While Nick went back through Carolyn Young's apartment, Catherine sat in the dining room of Iris Richards, the next-door neighbor. Iris was a retired teacher, and genuinely worried about Carolyn. As she told Catherine, Carolyn had been kind to her when she moved in, helping her carry boxes and arrange her furniture. "I knew she worked from her home, but I thought she was with one of those Internet thingies that’s apparently all the rage now," Iris said as she served Catherine coffee. "She goes jogging in the early mornings around the neighborhood, and we fell into the habit of having coffee together afterward. That's how I knew something was wrong - I hadn't seen her go jogging the past couple of days, and she hadn't stopped by for coffee." "She never missed a morning run?" Catherine asked. "Oh, she missed some if she were sick, but she always called or stopped by later in the day so I wouldn't worry. More recently, I've seen her gentleman friend stop by early some mornings, before her run. She didn't go out then, but she still called later, saying she'd overslept or something like that." Iris chuckled. "I don't think she felt comfortable telling me she and her friend had decided on a different form of morning exercise. Young people think someone my age wouldn't understand - but when Jackson was alive…well, I'm sure you don't want to hear about that." Iris smiled to herself. Catherine let a smile cross her lips at Iris' omission, though she was inwardly trying to repress the mental image of Grissom and Carolyn and 'morning exercise'. "Mrs. Richards, you told the police you heard Carolyn arguing with someone two nights before you reported her missing." Iris nodded. "Oh yes, I did. I don't sleep well at night so I'm often reading in my living room. I was up reading that night and I heard Carolyn and some man arguing rather loudly. At one point I was about to go over there because I heard Carolyn screaming at him to leave. But then I heard her someone leave her apartment, and Carolyn shouting a curse word at him from her doorway before she slammed it shut." She shook her head. "I'd never heard Carolyn use that kind of language before." "What happened then?" "Oh, I heard a car start and drive away. I would have gone over, but I wasn't sure if Carolyn was in the mood for company so I thought I would wait until I saw her after her run. I ended up going to bed." "Do you recall what time that was?" "About two-thirty, I'd say." "Mrs. Richards - do you think that the man you heard Carolyn Young arguing with was her 'gentleman friend'?" Catherine hated to ask the question, afraid of the answer. Iris looked thoughtful, then shook her head. "I suppose it's possible, but I wouldn't know. I've never spoken to him. I usually only saw him from a distance and he only nodded at me. He seemed like a pleasant man, though." Catherine smiled at Iris. "Thank you, Mrs. Richards. If you think of anything else, would you call me?" "Of course. Anything to help find Carolyn." * * * * * "Find anything new, Nick?" "Nothing," he replied, snapping off his gloves. "If there was someone else here, he didn't leave a trace other than some stray hairs and prints. Warrick and Sara have a few hairs they can't account for at the moment, but they could be from any one from a maintenance man to a cleaning service. And some of the prints didn’t have matches in the system." Catherine sighed. "I was hoping, Nick. I was really hoping." "I know. Me too. Maybe Warrick and Sara got lucky with the car," he said with a determined smile. |
|