| Suspect - by kyrdwyn |
| Rated: R Spoilers: None Synopsis: The only suspect in a missing persons case is a member of the unit. |
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| 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 |
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| "Carolyn Young drives a 1996 blue Jeep Cherokee, which wasn't at the apartment complex. We've got the police on the lookout for it." Sara still looked a little sheepish at overlooking this detail in the investigation. "So she could have taken off and not told anyone. I didn't see a purse at her place, nor did I see it on the evidence log," Nick pointed out. "You're just determined to be the eternal optimist, aren't you?" "Well, someone has to be since you and Warrick seemed determined to nail Grissom for this." "Hey guys - chill!" Catherine ordered. "All we've got is a lot of circumstantial evidence that only proves the two of them were intimately involved." Sara raised her eyebrows at Catherine's euphemism, but held her tongue. Warrick wasn't so circumspect. "We've nailed people on less evidence than this. Hey - I'm not saying I like this," he said when Nick looked ready to jump in. "Let's face it - none of us want to believe what we're seeing. The evidence sucks from our personal points of view. But you know Grissom would be the first one to tell us that we can't let our personal feelings get in the way of the investigation." Sara suddenly sat up in her chair. "Oh man, he's here." They all turned as Grissom pulled open the one of the break room doors and leaned against the other, his hands in his pockets. He looked at each of them, eyebrows rising as no one said anything. "I see I was missed this week," he said with a trace of amusement in his voice. "I thought you weren't due back until tomorrow," Catherine finally said. He shrugged. "Keynote speaker went into labor, so they canceled the final day. Thought I'd come back early and get caught up on some paperwork." The team looked at each other warily. None of them wanted to bring up Carolyn Young. Grissom, however, caught the undercurrent of tension in the room. "What's wrong?" Catherine sighed. "I think we ought to talk in your office," she said as she stood up. She turned to the rest of the team. "Keep working on it." Grissom merely raised an eyebrow and followed Catherine down the hall. Once inside his office, she shut the door behind him. He sat against the edge of his desk and watched as she paced in front of him. "What?" he finally asked, crossing his arms. "Warrick and Sara caught a missing persons case a few days ago," Catherine said, not looking at him. He tilted his head at her. "And this is unusual because…?" Catherine stopped behind one of the chairs, her hand on the back. She looked him in the eyes. "She's pretty famous - C.L. West, the writer." Grissom looked stunned at the news. He dropped his arms to his sides. "Carolyn?" he finally managed to ask. Catherine nodded, noting the genuine shock in his blue eyes. "I spoke to her before I left - told her I'd call her when I got back. She said that she was going to be counting the days." It was almost as if Grissom were talking to himself. "Look, Gil, all we know is that no one has seen her since last Wednesday." Catherine hesitated to tell Grissom he was the only potential suspect they had at the moment. She sincerely doubted he had anything to do with it, but they'd both been at this job long enough to know how people reacted when they got bad news. It wouldn't be hard for either of them to fake a reaction. A knock on the door startled them both. Catherine opened it. O'Reilly stepped in, his eyes widening when he saw Grissom leaning against the desk, staring down at the floor. "Uh, can I talk to you a second? Outside?" he asked Catherine. She looked back at Grissom and nodded, stepping outside and shutting the door. "What's up?" "We got a hit on one of the missing woman's credit cards. It was used last night at a hotel in Reno." "Reno?" "Yeah. I called Reno police; they're going to go check it out for us. You tell him?" He asked, nodded toward the office. "Only that she's missing - not about the evidence." "I need to interview him, Catherine. Formally. Just to make sure we cover our bases." "I know, O'Reilly. I know. Might as well do it now." * * * * * Grissom wasn't all that surprised when O'Reilly wanted to talk to him about Carolyn. Catherine hadn't been shocked that Grissom knew the writer's real name - so he knew the investigation had uncovered their relationship. It wouldn't have been too hard - he'd been at her apartment enough to leave fingerprints. Where, though, had probably shocked some of his colleagues. Catherine had stayed in his office with him while O'Reilly questioned him. He could feel her eyes on him as he answered the detective's questions. He was open and honest about his relationship with Carolyn - how they'd met, how long they'd known each other, the last time he'd seen and spoken to her. He also answered honestly about his activities at the conference in Los Angeles - he knew they would check up on him. When O'Reilly had gone, Grissom too left the crime lab, asking Catherine to call him if they found anything concrete on Carolyn. He nodded at Sara and Warrick as he passed them in the hall, but didn't stop to talk to them. This investigation was probably hard enough for them, with him being a potential suspect. It was odd for him, having spent most of his life on the "right" side of the law to find himself facing the "wrong" side - even though he knew he was innocent. Still, his team was following the evidence. And it all pointed to him. He walked into his house and settled heavily onto his couch, staring blankly at the wall opposite him. He thought about Carolyn - the way her black hair felt in his hands, the way her gray eyes would sparkle with laughter or burn with anger. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, remembering their first meeting. She'd written to him, introducing herself and explaining that she was doing research for a novel and wondered if he would be able to assist in her research into forensic science. He'd written back, inviting her down to the to lab. She'd been unable to make it down to the lab, but invited him to dinner at the Mexican restaurant. It had amused him that she had been nervous about the meeting. For the first ten minutes conversation had been awkward, until she had pulled out a copy of a newspaper article on one of his cases. She'd asked him about the investigation, and for the next two hours she'd listened as he went back through the entire case for her. When he realized he'd gone on so long, he'd apologized. She'd waved off his apology - she got just as excited when someone asked her about writing, and she'd learned a lot from what he'd told her. That dinner had led to another a few weeks later when she had asked him to read some of her writing for accuracy. He'd had to leave early but he'd taken the manuscript with him. When he had called to talk to her about it, she'd invited him over to her apartment. Eventually, they'd fallen into a routine of meeting for dinner at the restaurant and each other's homes. The conversations had moved from her novel and his job to more personal topics - her marriage, his past. Grissom kicked off his shoes and lay down on the couch, covering his eyes with a forearm. Carolyn had been amazingly understanding about his work, calmly accepting when he had to leave or cancel a date. He hadn't realized why until that morning he'd come over to her apartment to drop off a book he thought she'd be interested in. She'd invited him in, but her gray eyes had been almost looking though him. Intrigued by her distraction, he'd followed her back to her workroom when she had mentioned that she just wanted to finish a plot point. That's when he'd realized he was jealous of her characters. He smiled, remembering. * * * * * Carolyn shoved her keyboard back under the desktop and started rubbing her neck to work the kinks out. Sitting curled over the keys had cramped her muscles. "Hard work?" a voice behind her asked. She'd jumped out of her chair and whirled around, staring in surprise. Memory hit her - him stopping by that morning to drop off a book, her inviting him in while she finished up a plot point. She glanced at the clock - that had been three hours ago. "Oh my God, Gil! I'm so sorry! I just…. well…" She wasn't sure how she could explain that she had gotten lost in the scene and what the characters were telling her. He smiled as he got up from the couch to come gently rub her shoulders. "Don't worry about it. I enjoyed watching you write - gives a whole new perspective on how hard it can be to write for a living." She sighed, leaning back and moving her shoulders to direct his hands to the worst spots. "Still, you probably had better things to do than watch me argue with Alexia for three hours. I hate it when she decides to do her own thing." "You make it sound like she's real." "She is to me," Carolyn said as his hands moved to her neck. She lowered her head to give him better access. It had been so long since she'd had anyone around when she wrote that she no longer tried to resist the time it often demanded. She had to admit, though, that her husband hadn't been as good at shoulder rubs as Gil was. "So, did it all work out?" She leaned her head back to look up at him. "Maybe. There are a few loose ends to wrap up, and maybe one or two to keep loose until the next book." He shook his head. "Remind me not to read this book - I hate holes." Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she got up from her chair and turned around to face him. "Ah, but then you'll buy the next one to solve the puzzle." He smiled slightly. "And I suppose that one will have its own unanswered puzzle or two as well?" She smiled mysteriously at him in response, refusing to divulge her master marketing plan. Unable to resist, she leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. He blinked in amazement. "For being so understanding of my work," she said softly, answering his unspoken question. He just looked at her, still a little surprised. She blushed, feeling a little uncomfortable now. They had a great friendship based on mutual respect for the other's work and the same fascination with law enforcement - from different views. She was afraid she'd crossed a line she shouldn't have. He reached out and brushed a stray hair away from her face, lightly letting his finger tips brush her cheek. He watched her reaction with those intense blue eyes. She didn't move, afraid to break whatever spell had been cast upon them. He leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips across hers, hesitating a moment before he gave into the need to kiss her again, harder. Carolyn leaned into the kiss, her hands coming up to grasp his shirt. His arms closed around her as he leaned her back against the desk, desire building in them both. * * * * * Back in his lonely house, the memory of Carolyn's passion was a torment to him. She had been so open and giving that morning, so responsive and warm. She had made him feel like he was a different man, one who was younger and more in touch with people. He got up from the couch and went into his bedroom, stripping off his clothes before heading to the shower. His memories were too detailed to let him sleep. He sighed as he stepped into the cold spray, feeling it mix with the warm tears that fell as he thought about the fact that she was missing, and he was afraid not only for her, but for what might happen to him without her. * * * * * "Catherine, I realize this is a difficult position for you, but the fact remains that the evidence points to one person." "It's all circumstantial. We know they had an intimate relationship. He's also got a pretty solid alibi. I talked to the hotel employees and other people at the conference." "Can you account for every minute of his time since the last time Carolyn Young was seen by her neighbor?" "Well, no," Catherine said slowly. "I didn't think so. Los Angeles isn't that far away, Catherine. It does give him a window of opportunity. I want you to get a warrant for his house and his car. Take whatever evidence you can find. I'm not telling you to bring him in, " the sheriff went on as Catherine looked about to protest, "I'm just telling you to search his house and car. No arrest yet, I'll give you that much. But I can only go so far, Catherine. Don't abuse what leeway I'm allowing." Catherine watched the sheriff walked out of the office. She'd known that confrontation was coming. She'd hoped for a little more understanding from Brian, but she could deal with what he had given her. At least he wasn't looking for an arrest yet. As they all well knew, an arrest would be it for Grissom. Sighing, she headed out to find O'Reilly. He'd need to be there, along with Sara and Warrick. * * * * * The pounding on his door matched the pounding in his head as he woke up from a dream of Carolyn seducing him by reading aloud a particularly provocative passage from one of her books. It had taken him weeks before he'd been able to walk into the coroner's without that scene flashing into his head. He sat up, realizing that someone was definitely at his door, and they weren't going to go away. Muttering to himself, he pulled on a pair of slacks and went to answer the door. He blinked against the Vegas sunlight and saw Catherine, O'Reilly, Warrick, and Sara standing on his doorstep. He knew why they were there. "I presume you have a warrant?" O'Reilly nodded, handing him the folded paper. Grissom sighed as he read it, stepping back from the door. "Come on in." "Uh, Gil? We need you to wait outside," Catherine said hesitantly. "Can I at least put on a shirt and some shoes first?" His testy tone told Catherine that he was not taking this well. She looked at the others. O'Reilly shrugged. "Someone will need to go with him." Grissom rolled his eyes. "Come on, Warrick," he said as he stalked back to his bedroom. Warrick gave the others a disgusted glare and followed Grissom. He stood in the doorway as his supervisor yanked a clean shirt from a hanger in the closet and pulled it on, then stepped into a pair of shoes that were sitting on the floor. Grissom turned to the younger man, his expression a mixture of annoyance and resignation - like a man who has realized that nothing he says will change the wrong that’s about to be done to him. Grissom didn't speak, just walked toward the door and waited for Warrick to move out of his way. He didn't like having people in his house, and he knew that by the time his team was done, the relative order of his home would be shattered. They were going to go through everything, including his car. As he leaned against the police cruiser, he folded his arms against his chest and stared down at the ground, ignoring the disbelieving looks of the uniformed officers who were watching him. They were going to find Carolyn's presence in his house. Her fingerprints and hairs would be everywhere. A pair of her jeans were in his laundry room, left from last week when they'd had dinner together. He'd let her borrow an old pair of his jeans. She'd make a smart remark about stealing one of his shirts, and he'd given her the one off his back. One thing had led to another from there, and by the time they'd gotten back to dinner, it was cold. Shaking his head against memories that would lead only to more frustration, he looked up to see Sara opening the back of his Tahoe, pulling out the bags from his trip to Los Angeles. He'd been so in shock that he'd left them in there when he'd gotten home. Idly, he wondered what the young woman would think about the gifts for Carolyn that were tucked away carefully in the larger suitcase. He'd bought some things that had meaning to the two of them. Anyone else was bound to look at them oddly. He'd left Los Angeles that morning, his heart light at getting to see Carolyn earlier than planned. Now in the fading afternoon, his heart was heavy, Carolyn's disappearance and a possible felony charge dragging it down. * * * * * "Find anything?" Warrick looked up at Catherine from his crouch on the laundry room floor. "Pair of jeans, too small to be Grissom's." "What's that dried red stuff? Blood?" "Don't know - haven't tested it yet." He reached for the field kit but Catherine stopped him. "Bag it and take it back to the lab to be tested. That way we can't be accused of tampering." "You don't really think --" "I know you wouldn't, Warrick. But our sheriff is going to be watching this investigation with a magnifying glass." He nodded his understanding. "If it looks like we're trying to divert evidence away from Grissom, he'll take the case and give it to Eckley." "Who will get a warrant for Grissom without a second thought," she acknowledged. "Hey Catherine, come check this out!" Sara called from the living room. She and Warrick headed over to where Sara was standing, the suitcase from the Tahoe open on the floor. She had dusted it before opening it to examine the contents - mostly clothing and toiletries. But she'd found several interesting things. "Is that a knife?" Catherine asked, reaching out a gloved hand to take the object from Sara. "Yeah, and a very pretty one, too," the younger woman replied, handing over the gleaming steel knife and sheath. Glass jewels were decorating the hilt of the blade, and ornate Celtic knot work was etched into the sheath. Sara showed Catherine and Warrick the box the knife had been resting in. None of the three voiced any opinion as to why there was a knife in Grissom's suitcase. "I also found these," Sara said, pulling another box out of the suitcase. Inside were three pewter figurines of dragons. "Didn't Carolyn Young have figurines like that in her living room?" Warrick asked. Sara nodded. "A whole shelf full of them." "So Grissom was bringing her gifts? Not exactly the actions of a man who knew she wouldn’t be there on his return," Catherine pointed out. "He could have bought them before he did away with her." Both women turned to glare at Warrick evilly, and he held up his hands in silent apology. "Anything else?" "Some hairs that look like they could be Carolyn Young's. Some odd fibers. I've got them ready to take back to the lab for testing. "Good." "What about Grissom?" Sara's eyes were troubled. "What about him? All we've got is a lot of circumstantial evidence. The Reno police haven't called O'Reilly back yet. We've found nothing in here that couldn't be explained away by the fact that they were dating." "What about the jeans?" Catherine turned to Warrick. "We don't know what's on them. Or how long they've been there. So, we test them - and the knife." * * * * * Grissom had watched stoically as the auto squad took away his vehicle and his team walked out carrying evidence bags. He watched them drive away then returned to his house. They had been thorough, and it showed. His shoulders slumped in depression, he decided to leave cleaning up until later. He re-made his bed and climbed back in, preferring the oblivion of sleep to the endless worrying over Carolyn's fate. |
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