kristen999 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kristen999) wrote2005-08-30 08:47 pm
kristen999) wrote2005-08-30 08:47 pm
"Dark Days" (3/?)
Title: Dark Days (Chapter 3)
Author: Kristen999
Category: Angst/ Drama/ Case file
Spoilers: General for seasons 1-4. Set in Season 5, but no specific spoilers for it.
Disclaimer: All rights belong to CBS and all their fine writers. Please don't sue. This is just for fun.
Summary: Detachment from a case is a necessity. Obsession, however, can be an unavoidable evil. Nick battles his demons during a case of a murdered child.
Previous chapters can be found here:
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2548408/1/
Chapter 3
________________________________________
Nick found himself holed up an office going over expense reports. Grissom had not finished up last week's documentation for overtime pay. The paperwork and red tape behind the tedious regulations were driving him up a wall. Ecklie had cornered him in the hallway, explaining that if he wanted anyone on Graveyard to actually get those extra hours on their next paycheck, he better file all the right reports in triplicate.
"He did this on purpose." Nick muttered under his breath. It would be like Grissom to stick him with this last minute details, just so he could "experience it."
Everything had to have three copies now. Memos, follow up reports, progress reports. Nick had spent the last two hours playing catch-up on things that had nothing to do with his current case. The "new order" of Conrad Ecklie was ruled by discipline and covering one's ass for every action taken.
Nick hit the send button to the Assistant Director's in box, and rolled his chair backwards. He ran his hand over his closely shaved head and stood up abruptly. He glanced at how much time had been wasted and wanted to find out if anyone had made the slightest bit of progress while he's been in paper-pushing hell.
As he started to exit the cramped office, he almost smacked right into his partner. Warrick stepped aside in time, his quick reflexes saving him from colliding with the other man.
"Whoa, dude," Warrick cautioned.
"Oh, sorry, man," Nick said, smiling somewhat embarrassed. He'd been too lost in thought to notice his visitor.
"No problem. Look, Brass got a hit on a missing child's report." Warrick held up the slip of paper.
Nick took the report, his eyes glued to the details. "Good." He mumbled not looking up from the form.
"So, you ready to head out there?" Warrick asked, as the other man went back into the office to grab his hat.
Nick was still too engrossed in his own world and did a double-take at his partner's question. "Hmm….. what?" Nick seemed confused at first when he saw Warrick's puzzled look. "Yeah, but I need you to do something else, man."
Nick looked at his watch, his eyes growing big at how much time had elapsed. "Those stores are bound to be open now. Why don't you go see if you can talk to anyone about what they might have seen yesterday?"
Warrick didn't seem too thrilled at the prospect of pounding on doors, on what might be a wild goose chase.
"You taking Greggo?"
Nick put his ball cap on. "Yeah. I'll take the lead, but he needs to observe."
Both men walked down the hall, as Sara rounded a corner, a sparkle and glee in her eyes. "Got it!" she exclaimed.
The female CSI must have made a break in her case.
Nick grinned. "You nail the guy?" he asked, knowing full well that had to be the reason for her boisterous mood.
"Yep. We were right. He used a complex chemical base that broke down in a sugar based liquid." Sara's face flushed with excitement. "Coffee. He poisoned her coffee."
"Nice catch, Sara," Warrick congratulated her.
"Yeah, I think this deserves breakfast. So, which one of you guys is buying?"
Warrick snorted. "No can do. Looks like we're pulling a double today."
Sara looked back and forth between her coworkers. "That boy?" she asked, her voice lowering an octave within seconds.
Nick shuffled his feet, eager to leave. "Yeah. Greg and I are heading to the kid's possible family. Hopefully we'll have a name to go with the face."
"You need some help?" Sara offered, ready to join the ranks in overtime.
Nick thought for a moment, thinking back to all the paperwork and all the rules now in place. Having four criminalists on a single case wasn't something that the lab practiced too much of late unless it was very high profile. Nick chose to ignore his by-the-book manner for now.
"Think you could you lend Warrick a hand in scouting out the scene? See if you two can find anyone who saw anything, or maybe our suspect and his size-11 shoes?"
Sara gave Warrick a strange look, but agreed to the assignment, based on how serious Nick seemed by it.
"Cool. I'll let you know what I find from my interview with this family," Nick told them as he brushed past both colleagues in a hurry.
Sara watched Nick leave, his hurried pace causing him to zig-zag past the morning shift shuffling in.
"He's certainly taken this shift leader business to heart, hasn't he?" Sara asked her companion.
Warrick's gaze never left his partner's form as he disappeared from view. The taller criminalist seemed to mull over the question, his expression betraying how he felt. "Maybe. Something about him the past few hours."
Warrick glanced over at the female criminalist. He shook his head. "Could be nothing."
Sara felt the tension radiate from Warrick's body. She kept her thoughts to herself. Nick wasn't really acting that strange, but there was a fierce sense of determination that she had not seen from him in a while. Nick worked hard and diligently on every case. He gave 110 and more, just like all of them. Maybe his new sense of responsibility with his added duties brought out his overachieving side, she pondered.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Why don't you bring me up to speed in the car?"
Warrick didn't add any comments. "Yeah. Come on, let's go. We got a long day ahead of us."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nick had been on his cell phone almost the entire car ride over to their destination. His clipped answers and the demanding tone behind his questions had certainly made Greg feel like he was very close to a kettle about to boil over. His boss for the night was fuming while he drove, his foot pressed harder on the accelerator more so than usual.
Greg kept glancing over at the Texan, hoping the man would clue him on the conversation with Jim Brass. Right now, Nick seemed too wound up to notice him. He felt like a silent partner for the night.
He wouldn't allow himself to slide into that role. "What's going on?"
Nick tightened his grip on the wheel, his eyes stayed focus on the road. "A Mr. and Mrs. Todd are missing their son, Johnny."
Greg waited for more information to be forthcoming, but Nick was still way too preoccupied with driving a bit more aggressively towards the home.
"What are the chances that he's our John Doe?" he ventured to ask. Greg really didn't know what to say, he just hoped to keep the conversation going.
"I'd bet money on it. There's something odd going on there. Just follow my lead."
Greg wasn't following his supervisor's train of thought. "What's so strange about the situation?"
Nick pulled the SUV alongside a few patrol cars and a very upscale neighborhood. He undid his seatbelt and glanced back at the young man. "The child has been missing for two days, and they never filed a report."
Greg was still sitting in his seat with a confused expression when the sound of Nick slamming the car door shut shook him from his thoughts.
The criminalists were met by Jim Brass, his expression unreadable. His eyebrows rose when he greeted them in his usual way. They exchanged mild pleasantries.
The sun was rising, the rays casting the rich neighborhood in daylight. There was a pristine lawn up front, a little mailbox with cliched flowers painted on it. Nick noted the alarm pad with interest. The heavy door opened up when an officer walked back outside. It was a nice, safe area, Nick supposed. Secured with a bolt lock and expensively-paned windows.
He brought his attention back to the Detective, the whole false sense of security of the house filed in his mind.
"So, according to Marisa Todd, she went to wake up her older son, Johnny, for school on Monday morning around 6:00 a.m. She found his bed empty and searched the house for him. Her other son, Jason Todd, was in his room. She was keeping him home from school, since he was running a slight temperature. Wife goes on to explain that she called her husband who already left for work, and they went about organizing a search in the neighborhood."
Nick didn't appear too convinced by the tale. "It's Wednesday morning, Jim. What's their excuse for not calling the police?" he asked, his tone harsh.
"They have not given me a reasonable explanation yet," he stated, the mild sarcasm obvious in his voice.
"Could it have been a kidnapping and they were too scared to call it in?" Greg asked. Both men turned to look at him. "Maybe there was a ransom, and things didn't go right and they were too afraid to contact the authorities," he quickly added before he could be shot down with doubtful expressions.
"We're not dismissing any theories yet. Their preacher is in there with them. He's been giving them guidance and comfort." Jim gave Nick a pointed look.
"All right. Let's get a positive ID first, and then we'll go from there." Nick picked up his kit and followed the captain into the home.
The trio entered the elaborate living room. The entryway had high arcs; the floor was made of high quality wood, with large bay windows at the back of the area. The home looked like something ripped from Better Home and Gardens. Huddled in a corner, on a solid white plush couch, were two men trying to console a very upset looking woman.
Jim turned to the family. "Mr. and Mrs. Matt and Marisa Todd, these are CSIs Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders with the Vegas Crime Lab."
Matt Todd stood up immediately, confronting the criminalist. "The detective here says you have information concerning our missing son."
"We might, sir. Do you have a picture of your son, Mr. Todd?" Nick asked, ignoring the commanding tone of the husband.
"I do, officer." Marisa Todd literally jumped off the sofa and made her way to a fireplace.
She quickly brought over a framed photo of a little boy, dressed in a softball uniform. Nick took the picture and tried not to groan.
This was definitely the little boy. Johnny Todd. At least he had a name now, he thought mournfully. Nick tried to keep his expression neutral. Greg peered over at the photo and did his best to hide his recognition.
Matt Todd brought his arms around his wife's shoulders; he stared at Nick, his eyes full of anger and worry.
"Mr. and Mrs. Todd, we might have found your son. It would be helpful if you could come down to the station and identify him," Nick tried to explain, his voice even.
Marisa Todd almost crumbled in her husband's arms. Her face paled as tears streamed down her face. She muttered to herself and cried at the implications. The priest put his hand on the distraught woman's shoulder.
Nick tried to back away and give them a few moments to collect themselves. The investigation could not really move forward till a positive ID was made on the boy. An officer would remain at the house until it was determined if the home would become an active scene to canvass or not. Nick looked down at the wooden floor when he heard another set of footsteps approach. He looked up to see a young boy with wavy blonde hair.
He was clutching a book in his hands; his thick rimmed glasses reflected the beams of sunlight from the windows.
"Mom, why are you crying?" the boy asked. His mother pulled her son towards him, as if he too might be snatched away.
Nick thought sadly that this child would no longer have his older brother around to play with. Nick put on his sunglasses and headed back to his SUV. Greg followed suit, not waiting for any instructions.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There were terrible sounds of tears, wailing, and the desperate sounds of grief and hysterics. Nick had heard these more times in his life then he ever cared to admit. The pain was fresh and raw, like scraping nails on a chalkboard. Marisa Todd could barely stand as she was led to a chair, her wails from the morgue still loud in Nick's head.
Her proud husband was on one side. He was of average build, Nick noted, with a bit more muscle mass. He had short cropped hair that matched tense brown eyes. He was older than his wife, maybe by ten years. He whispered to her that things were alright while his body shook with emotion. Rage. Nick sensed a very volatile temper.
Marisa was younger, makeup smeared all over her drawn face, her desperate blue eyes, dulled by shock. Her blonde hair was a mess. It was frazzled looking, like she encountered a huge wave of static electricity.
The priest was the same age of the wife and kneeled in front of them as he tried keeping the mother calm. Nick felt like some morbid spectator, but questions needed to be answered and he didn't have all day for breakdowns. Not if they are going to seek justice for the child.
The CSI left the window of the interrogation room. He was sure the people inside had no idea he'd been observing, watching their every move, studying postures. Nick knew what to look for, all the little ticks that might give one of them away.
Warrick entered the room and motioned for Nick to follow him into the hallway. Nick gladly pulled away from the mad spectacle, a morbid play that he was a part of.
Warrick had that look- the one that meant there was bad news. "SART exam is back on Johnny Todd." His mouth was a thin line.
Nick knows Warrick, can anticipate what he's going to say.
"Doc Robbins says there are extensive signs of prolonged abuse, including scarring of tissue." Warrick rubbed his jaw with his hand. "Greg's searching for his medical records. Shouldn't take long. I hope we can get some answers before you start to question them."
Nick crossed his arms. "You and Sara getting anywhere with your store-to-store search?"
"Nah. No one saw or heard anything suspicious and no, didn't see any really large feet," Warrick added.
Nick cocked his head to one side. "It needed to be done." The CSI searched the hallway. "Where's Sara?"
Warrick chuckled softly. "She went ahead and started to gather records on the family. See if anything popped up."
Nick allowed a small growl. "She should have informed me of her plans. I'm the lead."
"She just wanted to run with it. Go ahead and get the history started so we could start ruling them out."
Nick looked at his partner. "Who said anything about ruling them out?"
Warrick narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything when Greg came down the corridor in a hurry. Somewhat breathless and so cranked up with excitement that he wasn't able to get a word out.
Nick fixed him with an odd stare as he noticed a file folder in the younger man's hands. Greg finally caught his breath and fixed each man with an excited look. "Took a while to track down Johnny Todd's medical records, they were spread across several hospitals."
Nick's ears picked up, his muscles along his neck tensed up. "And, Greg?" he asked tersely.
Greg flipped over the folder, and pointed out several highlighted passages. "Johnny Todd at age eight suffered a broken arm. At ages six, a fractured wrist and a sprained ankle at age five."
Nick grabbed the papers out of Greg's hands and scanned the contents. His eyes grew darker, and then stared at the closed door to the room. "Where's the other son, Jason?'
"He's in the waiting room; a friend of the family is with him," Warrick answered.
"I want him to stay away from his parents. Have someone sit with him." Nick squared his shoulders.
Warrick put his hand on his partner's shoulder. "Maybe you should take a break, Nick. You seemed a bit wound-up here."
Nick seemed to take exception to his friend's suggestion. "I'm fine. Clock's been ticking. Go help Sara with those background checks. My gut isn't sitting right with this. Greg will come in with me." Nick looked at the young criminalist. "Just observe, all right?"
Greg nodded, not feeling very comfortable; he looked over at Warrick who didn't seem very happy about the situation.
Nick ignored the glare he was still receiving. He had handed out the assignments and he expected his coworkers to act accordingly. The CSI opened the door. Nick waited for Greg to follow and left the other criminalist in the hallway.
Warrick frowned, a little voice in his head told him not everything was right with his best friend, but for the world he didn't know why.
tbc....
***************
Author: Kristen999
Category: Angst/ Drama/ Case file
Spoilers: General for seasons 1-4. Set in Season 5, but no specific spoilers for it.
Disclaimer: All rights belong to CBS and all their fine writers. Please don't sue. This is just for fun.
Summary: Detachment from a case is a necessity. Obsession, however, can be an unavoidable evil. Nick battles his demons during a case of a murdered child.
Previous chapters can be found here:
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2548408/1/
Chapter 3
________________________________________
Nick found himself holed up an office going over expense reports. Grissom had not finished up last week's documentation for overtime pay. The paperwork and red tape behind the tedious regulations were driving him up a wall. Ecklie had cornered him in the hallway, explaining that if he wanted anyone on Graveyard to actually get those extra hours on their next paycheck, he better file all the right reports in triplicate.
"He did this on purpose." Nick muttered under his breath. It would be like Grissom to stick him with this last minute details, just so he could "experience it."
Everything had to have three copies now. Memos, follow up reports, progress reports. Nick had spent the last two hours playing catch-up on things that had nothing to do with his current case. The "new order" of Conrad Ecklie was ruled by discipline and covering one's ass for every action taken.
Nick hit the send button to the Assistant Director's in box, and rolled his chair backwards. He ran his hand over his closely shaved head and stood up abruptly. He glanced at how much time had been wasted and wanted to find out if anyone had made the slightest bit of progress while he's been in paper-pushing hell.
As he started to exit the cramped office, he almost smacked right into his partner. Warrick stepped aside in time, his quick reflexes saving him from colliding with the other man.
"Whoa, dude," Warrick cautioned.
"Oh, sorry, man," Nick said, smiling somewhat embarrassed. He'd been too lost in thought to notice his visitor.
"No problem. Look, Brass got a hit on a missing child's report." Warrick held up the slip of paper.
Nick took the report, his eyes glued to the details. "Good." He mumbled not looking up from the form.
"So, you ready to head out there?" Warrick asked, as the other man went back into the office to grab his hat.
Nick was still too engrossed in his own world and did a double-take at his partner's question. "Hmm….. what?" Nick seemed confused at first when he saw Warrick's puzzled look. "Yeah, but I need you to do something else, man."
Nick looked at his watch, his eyes growing big at how much time had elapsed. "Those stores are bound to be open now. Why don't you go see if you can talk to anyone about what they might have seen yesterday?"
Warrick didn't seem too thrilled at the prospect of pounding on doors, on what might be a wild goose chase.
"You taking Greggo?"
Nick put his ball cap on. "Yeah. I'll take the lead, but he needs to observe."
Both men walked down the hall, as Sara rounded a corner, a sparkle and glee in her eyes. "Got it!" she exclaimed.
The female CSI must have made a break in her case.
Nick grinned. "You nail the guy?" he asked, knowing full well that had to be the reason for her boisterous mood.
"Yep. We were right. He used a complex chemical base that broke down in a sugar based liquid." Sara's face flushed with excitement. "Coffee. He poisoned her coffee."
"Nice catch, Sara," Warrick congratulated her.
"Yeah, I think this deserves breakfast. So, which one of you guys is buying?"
Warrick snorted. "No can do. Looks like we're pulling a double today."
Sara looked back and forth between her coworkers. "That boy?" she asked, her voice lowering an octave within seconds.
Nick shuffled his feet, eager to leave. "Yeah. Greg and I are heading to the kid's possible family. Hopefully we'll have a name to go with the face."
"You need some help?" Sara offered, ready to join the ranks in overtime.
Nick thought for a moment, thinking back to all the paperwork and all the rules now in place. Having four criminalists on a single case wasn't something that the lab practiced too much of late unless it was very high profile. Nick chose to ignore his by-the-book manner for now.
"Think you could you lend Warrick a hand in scouting out the scene? See if you two can find anyone who saw anything, or maybe our suspect and his size-11 shoes?"
Sara gave Warrick a strange look, but agreed to the assignment, based on how serious Nick seemed by it.
"Cool. I'll let you know what I find from my interview with this family," Nick told them as he brushed past both colleagues in a hurry.
Sara watched Nick leave, his hurried pace causing him to zig-zag past the morning shift shuffling in.
"He's certainly taken this shift leader business to heart, hasn't he?" Sara asked her companion.
Warrick's gaze never left his partner's form as he disappeared from view. The taller criminalist seemed to mull over the question, his expression betraying how he felt. "Maybe. Something about him the past few hours."
Warrick glanced over at the female criminalist. He shook his head. "Could be nothing."
Sara felt the tension radiate from Warrick's body. She kept her thoughts to herself. Nick wasn't really acting that strange, but there was a fierce sense of determination that she had not seen from him in a while. Nick worked hard and diligently on every case. He gave 110 and more, just like all of them. Maybe his new sense of responsibility with his added duties brought out his overachieving side, she pondered.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Why don't you bring me up to speed in the car?"
Warrick didn't add any comments. "Yeah. Come on, let's go. We got a long day ahead of us."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nick had been on his cell phone almost the entire car ride over to their destination. His clipped answers and the demanding tone behind his questions had certainly made Greg feel like he was very close to a kettle about to boil over. His boss for the night was fuming while he drove, his foot pressed harder on the accelerator more so than usual.
Greg kept glancing over at the Texan, hoping the man would clue him on the conversation with Jim Brass. Right now, Nick seemed too wound up to notice him. He felt like a silent partner for the night.
He wouldn't allow himself to slide into that role. "What's going on?"
Nick tightened his grip on the wheel, his eyes stayed focus on the road. "A Mr. and Mrs. Todd are missing their son, Johnny."
Greg waited for more information to be forthcoming, but Nick was still way too preoccupied with driving a bit more aggressively towards the home.
"What are the chances that he's our John Doe?" he ventured to ask. Greg really didn't know what to say, he just hoped to keep the conversation going.
"I'd bet money on it. There's something odd going on there. Just follow my lead."
Greg wasn't following his supervisor's train of thought. "What's so strange about the situation?"
Nick pulled the SUV alongside a few patrol cars and a very upscale neighborhood. He undid his seatbelt and glanced back at the young man. "The child has been missing for two days, and they never filed a report."
Greg was still sitting in his seat with a confused expression when the sound of Nick slamming the car door shut shook him from his thoughts.
The criminalists were met by Jim Brass, his expression unreadable. His eyebrows rose when he greeted them in his usual way. They exchanged mild pleasantries.
The sun was rising, the rays casting the rich neighborhood in daylight. There was a pristine lawn up front, a little mailbox with cliched flowers painted on it. Nick noted the alarm pad with interest. The heavy door opened up when an officer walked back outside. It was a nice, safe area, Nick supposed. Secured with a bolt lock and expensively-paned windows.
He brought his attention back to the Detective, the whole false sense of security of the house filed in his mind.
"So, according to Marisa Todd, she went to wake up her older son, Johnny, for school on Monday morning around 6:00 a.m. She found his bed empty and searched the house for him. Her other son, Jason Todd, was in his room. She was keeping him home from school, since he was running a slight temperature. Wife goes on to explain that she called her husband who already left for work, and they went about organizing a search in the neighborhood."
Nick didn't appear too convinced by the tale. "It's Wednesday morning, Jim. What's their excuse for not calling the police?" he asked, his tone harsh.
"They have not given me a reasonable explanation yet," he stated, the mild sarcasm obvious in his voice.
"Could it have been a kidnapping and they were too scared to call it in?" Greg asked. Both men turned to look at him. "Maybe there was a ransom, and things didn't go right and they were too afraid to contact the authorities," he quickly added before he could be shot down with doubtful expressions.
"We're not dismissing any theories yet. Their preacher is in there with them. He's been giving them guidance and comfort." Jim gave Nick a pointed look.
"All right. Let's get a positive ID first, and then we'll go from there." Nick picked up his kit and followed the captain into the home.
The trio entered the elaborate living room. The entryway had high arcs; the floor was made of high quality wood, with large bay windows at the back of the area. The home looked like something ripped from Better Home and Gardens. Huddled in a corner, on a solid white plush couch, were two men trying to console a very upset looking woman.
Jim turned to the family. "Mr. and Mrs. Matt and Marisa Todd, these are CSIs Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders with the Vegas Crime Lab."
Matt Todd stood up immediately, confronting the criminalist. "The detective here says you have information concerning our missing son."
"We might, sir. Do you have a picture of your son, Mr. Todd?" Nick asked, ignoring the commanding tone of the husband.
"I do, officer." Marisa Todd literally jumped off the sofa and made her way to a fireplace.
She quickly brought over a framed photo of a little boy, dressed in a softball uniform. Nick took the picture and tried not to groan.
This was definitely the little boy. Johnny Todd. At least he had a name now, he thought mournfully. Nick tried to keep his expression neutral. Greg peered over at the photo and did his best to hide his recognition.
Matt Todd brought his arms around his wife's shoulders; he stared at Nick, his eyes full of anger and worry.
"Mr. and Mrs. Todd, we might have found your son. It would be helpful if you could come down to the station and identify him," Nick tried to explain, his voice even.
Marisa Todd almost crumbled in her husband's arms. Her face paled as tears streamed down her face. She muttered to herself and cried at the implications. The priest put his hand on the distraught woman's shoulder.
Nick tried to back away and give them a few moments to collect themselves. The investigation could not really move forward till a positive ID was made on the boy. An officer would remain at the house until it was determined if the home would become an active scene to canvass or not. Nick looked down at the wooden floor when he heard another set of footsteps approach. He looked up to see a young boy with wavy blonde hair.
He was clutching a book in his hands; his thick rimmed glasses reflected the beams of sunlight from the windows.
"Mom, why are you crying?" the boy asked. His mother pulled her son towards him, as if he too might be snatched away.
Nick thought sadly that this child would no longer have his older brother around to play with. Nick put on his sunglasses and headed back to his SUV. Greg followed suit, not waiting for any instructions.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There were terrible sounds of tears, wailing, and the desperate sounds of grief and hysterics. Nick had heard these more times in his life then he ever cared to admit. The pain was fresh and raw, like scraping nails on a chalkboard. Marisa Todd could barely stand as she was led to a chair, her wails from the morgue still loud in Nick's head.
Her proud husband was on one side. He was of average build, Nick noted, with a bit more muscle mass. He had short cropped hair that matched tense brown eyes. He was older than his wife, maybe by ten years. He whispered to her that things were alright while his body shook with emotion. Rage. Nick sensed a very volatile temper.
Marisa was younger, makeup smeared all over her drawn face, her desperate blue eyes, dulled by shock. Her blonde hair was a mess. It was frazzled looking, like she encountered a huge wave of static electricity.
The priest was the same age of the wife and kneeled in front of them as he tried keeping the mother calm. Nick felt like some morbid spectator, but questions needed to be answered and he didn't have all day for breakdowns. Not if they are going to seek justice for the child.
The CSI left the window of the interrogation room. He was sure the people inside had no idea he'd been observing, watching their every move, studying postures. Nick knew what to look for, all the little ticks that might give one of them away.
Warrick entered the room and motioned for Nick to follow him into the hallway. Nick gladly pulled away from the mad spectacle, a morbid play that he was a part of.
Warrick had that look- the one that meant there was bad news. "SART exam is back on Johnny Todd." His mouth was a thin line.
Nick knows Warrick, can anticipate what he's going to say.
"Doc Robbins says there are extensive signs of prolonged abuse, including scarring of tissue." Warrick rubbed his jaw with his hand. "Greg's searching for his medical records. Shouldn't take long. I hope we can get some answers before you start to question them."
Nick crossed his arms. "You and Sara getting anywhere with your store-to-store search?"
"Nah. No one saw or heard anything suspicious and no, didn't see any really large feet," Warrick added.
Nick cocked his head to one side. "It needed to be done." The CSI searched the hallway. "Where's Sara?"
Warrick chuckled softly. "She went ahead and started to gather records on the family. See if anything popped up."
Nick allowed a small growl. "She should have informed me of her plans. I'm the lead."
"She just wanted to run with it. Go ahead and get the history started so we could start ruling them out."
Nick looked at his partner. "Who said anything about ruling them out?"
Warrick narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything when Greg came down the corridor in a hurry. Somewhat breathless and so cranked up with excitement that he wasn't able to get a word out.
Nick fixed him with an odd stare as he noticed a file folder in the younger man's hands. Greg finally caught his breath and fixed each man with an excited look. "Took a while to track down Johnny Todd's medical records, they were spread across several hospitals."
Nick's ears picked up, his muscles along his neck tensed up. "And, Greg?" he asked tersely.
Greg flipped over the folder, and pointed out several highlighted passages. "Johnny Todd at age eight suffered a broken arm. At ages six, a fractured wrist and a sprained ankle at age five."
Nick grabbed the papers out of Greg's hands and scanned the contents. His eyes grew darker, and then stared at the closed door to the room. "Where's the other son, Jason?'
"He's in the waiting room; a friend of the family is with him," Warrick answered.
"I want him to stay away from his parents. Have someone sit with him." Nick squared his shoulders.
Warrick put his hand on his partner's shoulder. "Maybe you should take a break, Nick. You seemed a bit wound-up here."
Nick seemed to take exception to his friend's suggestion. "I'm fine. Clock's been ticking. Go help Sara with those background checks. My gut isn't sitting right with this. Greg will come in with me." Nick looked at the young criminalist. "Just observe, all right?"
Greg nodded, not feeling very comfortable; he looked over at Warrick who didn't seem very happy about the situation.
Nick ignored the glare he was still receiving. He had handed out the assignments and he expected his coworkers to act accordingly. The CSI opened the door. Nick waited for Greg to follow and left the other criminalist in the hallway.
Warrick frowned, a little voice in his head told him not everything was right with his best friend, but for the world he didn't know why.
tbc....
***************
no subject
Good story so far.
Even if it's not slash....
no subject
Got something brewing all ready.
Take care-
Kristen