CSI - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Dreamer ❯ Chapter 5

Hillary pulled into the station parking lot the next morning. She had woken up in a really good mood. She felt like she was a child on Christmas Eve. She was so excited about her date with Nick, but a thought came to her mind as she had been eating breakfast. It had been about the conversation she had with Amanda the night before…

 

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“Ah, come on Hillbilly, when was the last time you went out on a date? With a cute guy, none the less.”

 

“Two years, so?”

 

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Hillary shook her head at the thought. Two years. She hadn't dated for two whole years! All of her friends had been married to a wonderful husband longer then that. `Don't even think about it. It's time for work.' Hillary got out of the car and headed in.

 

Maybe Warrick or Greg would make a wise-crack and cheer her up. Maybe she'd be working a case with Sara, she always liked that. Or maybe Nick had come in early and she could talk to him for a while. She hoped the last one was true more then the others.

 

Hillary was at her locker when Grissom walked in.

 

“Good morning, Hillary,” he greeted as he stood in the doorway.

 

“Morning, Grissom.”

 

“We're really busy this morning, so you and Sara are assigned to a case already.”

 

Hillary wasn't disappointed or happy. She hadn't gotten to see Nick yet, but she would get to work a case with Sara. “Alright.”

 

“A woman was found dead in one of the parking lots at a hotel. Sara is ready to head out and she'll be waiting for you at the door.”

 

“Okay, Grissom. Thanks.”

 

Grissom nodded his head. “And good luck.” He headed out so he could get back to work, whatever he was doing.

 

Hillary met Sara at the front door and they got into one of the lab SUVs. As they began out of the parking lot, a blue SUV pulled in. It was Nick's car. As they pulled out onto the street, Hillary picked up her cell phone. She dialed Nick's number from memory and listened to the phone ring.

 

Nick had just walked in the front doors as his phone rang. He had been thinking about why the traffic had been so bad when his phone went off. He clipped it off his belt.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey, Nick. It's Hillary,” her voice was a bit static on the other end of the line. Nick grinned.

 

“Well, hello.”

 

“I saw you pulling in just as we left. I just wanted to phone you up and ask you how you're feeling.”

 

Nick remembered his sore muscles. “Sore. Very sore.” he mumbled, but he didn't really care, last night had been great.

 

“I knew you would be.”

 

“How come you're not sore?” he joked, as he walked into the locker room.

 

“I'm used to it. And besides, my horse was behaving yesterday.”

 

Nick's smile widened as he opened his locker. “Well, I have to say, last night was a blast anyway. Thanks for letting me come over to the barn and go for a ride.”

 

“Hey, no problem. I had as much fun as you did.” She paused. “I'm really looking forward to Friday, Nick.”

 

If it was possible for Nick's smile to get any bigger, it did. “So am I.” There was another short pause.

 

“I'll see you later, Nick. We're getting closer to the scene.”

 

“Alright, bye.” Nick hung up the phone.

 

“'So am I' what?” Warrick stood in the doorway grinning at Nick.

 

“Oh, nothing.”

 

Warrick leaned up against a locker next to Nick. “That's not what the grin on your face is telling me. Is it about last night?”

 

Warrick knew all about Nick going to the barn. On Tuesday, Nick had told him he was going to go. He had planned to surprise Hillary. He hadn't really planned that he would actually ask her out and get a yes.

 

“Yes and no,” he paused. “I finally asked Hillary out.”

 

Warrick gave Nick a playful punch in the shoulder. “Good for you my friend! Finally got the guts!” Nick rolled his eyes. “Y'know something, buddy? Both you and Hillary roll your eyes quite a lot. Hey, you can use that if you need to say something you two have in common.”

 

“You know what, buddy? You're so funny that…” Nick didn't get to finish because his pager went off. There was an armed robbery at a video store. “You're just going to get it,” he said, looking over his shoulder as he began to head out.

 

“Hey, Nick.” Nick turned around and looked at Warrick. “Try to keep your mind on the case, and not Hillary, okay?”

 

Nick shook his head. He couldn't believe Warrick. “Oh, I'll try, but I don't know if I'll be able too,” he joked. Nick walked out and went towards the scene.

 

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Hillary hung up the phone. She breathed in deeply. Just talking to Nick made her happy. She really liked him, as a friend, of course. She looked at her cell phone for a second and didn't see Sara turn her head towards her.

 

“Are you and Nick going out?” Sara knew Hillary liked Nick.

 

Hillary looked at her and grinned. “Yeah.”

 

“Finally.” Hillary gave her a puzzled look.

 

“What do you mean by `finally'?”

 

Sara lowered her voice for fun. “Don't tell Nick I told you, but he's been trying to ask you out for a few weeks now.”

 

Hillary was shocked. “He has? But…”

 

“He hasn't had the guts to do so. But please don't tell him I told you, he'll kill me.”

 

“I promise, I won't.”

 

They continued to drive in silence, but Hillary's thoughts were moving through her head uncontrollably. `How… What… Why…' Hillary couldn't understand why he didn't say anything to her. They were usually so open around each other. She kept pondering this until they reached the hotel parking lot.

 

Hillary and Sara got out of the SUV. There was a large area surrounded by yellow police tape. There was about seven police officers scattered around the area, and a news van was parked outside the tape. A man with a camera and a reporter were asking questions to Brass, who had beaten Hillary and Sara to the scene. A woman in a skimpy black skirt and tank-top was talking to a detective who was jotting down notes on a note pad.

 

“You know, it never amazes me how fast a news crew always gets to a murder scene.” Sara declared as they walked under the yellow tape as an officer held it up for them.

 

Hillary nodded her head in agreement. She looked at the silver Pontiac Firebird and gave an approving whistle. “Nice car.” Sara walked to the driver's side of the car.

 

A woman with long blond hair sat in the driver's seat. The entire back of her head was split open. She was leaning up against the leather headrest, which was covered in blood. The blood had dripped down off her wound and covered the back of the seat as well.

 

“Well, it's ruined now.”

 

Hillary could hear the news crew asking questions to Brass and she turned her head. He was retreating towards them as the reporter called after him and a police officer kept her from entering.

 

“I hate reporters,” Brass muttered as he walked up to the front of the car.

 

“Don't we all.” Hillary knew what dealing with reporters felt like, and she disliked it as much as Brass. They'd always poke and poke to try and get an answer. And when you didn't give one to them, they'd poke some more.

 

“Our vic is, well we really don't know who out vic is. All we know is that a Veronica Miles,” Brass looked over to the woman in the black skirt. “Had left from a party and saw the victim sitting in her car with her eyes closed. When she walked by the car, she noticed the blood and called 911.”

 

“We'll check for a driver's license or identification in her purse.” Sara nodded as she looked at the passenger's seat. A white leather purse sat opened.

 

“Okay. I'm going to talk to Ms. Miles and see what she has anything else to say.” Brass headed off and the two girls got started.

 

Hillary slipped on her latex gloves and reached in the open window and took the purse out of the passenger's seat. Sara opened up the back door and shone a flashlight around. Hillary was digging through the purse. She found some lipstick, some eyeliner, and a room key, but no identification or money.

“There's no identification,” she told Sara. “And no bills or coins.”

 

“You thinking robbery?” Sara picked up a hair with tweezers and placed it in a baggy.

 

“Perhaps.” Hillary placed the purse in a bag and began dusting the door handle for fingerprints. It was clean, odd for a door handle. “It looks like someone wiped off the handle.” Hillary went around the car, dusting all the door handles. They were all clean. As she walked behind the car to head back over to the passenger's side, she noticed something in the mud behind the asphalt parking lot.

 

`What do we have here?' It was a single shoeprint, facing towards a building. It looked like someone had walked behind the car. Hillary looked up. There were bushes and trees up against the side of the building, which would be a good place to hide something.

 

“What'd you find?” Sara asked, looking over Hillary's shoulder.

 

“A shoeprint.”

 

“I'll make a mold of that.” Sara walked back to the lab SUV and took out the casting kit, which consisted of a metal frame which would be filled with plaster to make an impression of a shoeprint or tire tread. As Sara got to work, Hillary began looking around the bushes.

 

She had been searching for a while and Sara had gone back to scouring the car. Hillary noticed something underneath a bush. It was a five dollar bill. She leaned down to pick it up, and silver object caught her eye. She reached under the bush and got a hold of something smooth. It was a wallet, and there was the victim's driver's license, some credit cards, and some dollar bills.

 

“Found a wallet. And you're not going to believe this, Sara.” Hillary walked over to Sara, and showed her the driver's license.

 

“Well, you don't see that everyday.”

 

Brass walked up beside them.

 

“How'd the questioning go, Brass?” Hillary asked, taking another look at the license to see if it was valid.

 

“Not so good. I see you found a wallet. Is the vic a Jane Doe anymore?”

 

Jane Doe was a term used for an unknown female victim or suspect. They would call the victim/suspect `Jane Doe' until they figured out her identity. If the victim or suspect was male, they would call him `John Doe' until they figured out his identity.

 

Hillary and Sara looked at each other. “That really matters what your definition of `Jane Doe' is.” Hillary looked at him as if she had a secret joke to tell.

 

Brass gave her a puzzled look. “What? What's so funny? Did I miss something here?”

 

Sara looked at him too. “Not exactly.”

 

Hillary showed the license to Brass. In printing at the top was `Jane L. Doe.'

 

“Well I'll be darned.” It was possible for someone to have a name like that, but it didn't happen very often. “Is there a John Doe to go with that?”

 

Both Hillary and Sara shook their heads. An officer called for Brass and he headed out. Hillary and Sara got back to work and spent the next few hours searching the car and checking the surrounding area. Sara found another room key under the driver's seat. It had a fingerprint on it.

 

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When Nick drove into the large outlet mall parking lot, his mind was still back to the conversation with Hillary. They hadn't really talked that much, but the few words they had spoken had put Nick in a really good mood.

 

He pulled in next to a large sign and climbed out of the SUV. He immediately went into work mode. A crowd had gathered and officers were stopping them from entering the area that was being taped up. Sgt. Ray O'Reily, who is a detective who often works with the nightshift, walked up to Nick.

 

“Hey, Nick. Good time.” O'Reily told him as they walked towards a police officer and a man Nick guessed was the store clerk.

 

“Traffic wasn't so bad.”

 

“The entire area and the surrounding neighbourhoods are being scoured as we speak. Some of the boys (meaning the officers) chased the perp into a few backyards but lost him over a fence. The entire area is on alert. He would have a hard time avoiding us, if even getting out of the setup perimeter.”

 

The two stopped in front of the man. His face was an eerie white, and his hands were shaking slightly.

 

“Mr. Mackenzie, this is Nick Stokes. He's with the crime lab.” O'Reily told the frightened clerk.

 

Nick nodded his head in a greeting. “Hi.”

 

“Did you get a good look at the suspect? Or was he wearing a mask?” O'Reily asked, giving the clerk time to collect himself.

 

The clerk gulped and breathed in deeply. “Like I told this fine officer here. When he first came into the store, he was wearing a black ski mask, and he waved that gun in my face and told me to give him the money! But when that lady…” he looked over to a lady who appeared to be in her late thirty's. “Walked in, he took it off and pretended to be looking at the games. But the man himself… He had a bald head, dark skin, blazing black eyes, he was maybe six feet tall, I don't know. He really didn't want to do what he was doing. His hands were shaking the whole time, maybe even more then mine were. And he was wearing black gloves, but took one off and threw it somewhere when the lady walked in.”

 

Nick cocked an eyebrow. He was very interested in this case.

 

“What happened?” O'Reily asked.

 

The clerk took in another deep breath. “He was asking me what games were good, then he walked over to another counter. The lady had walked towards me, and I'm mouthed the words `I'm being robbed'. I think he figured out, because the lady looked at him and bolted out of the store, and called 911,” he paused for another moment. “When she was gone, he pulled the gun out again and yelled for me to fill up a bag with the money and all the games at the front counter. I was doing so when a woman and her son walked in. Poor kid. But he had had enough and told them to hit the ground, yelling that if she wanted her son to live to stay there and don't move.”

 

Nick saw the officer who was writing this all down chuckle quietly. The officer had already listened to the statement and knew what was coming next. It was obviously funny.

 

“He grabbed the full bag off of the money and games and ran full tilt towards the door.” The clerk actually cracked a small smile, but it disappeared quickly. “That door's broken. He ran into the door and flew back, dropping the bag and his mask. Then he opened the other door and bolted away as fast as he could.”

 

“Ran into the door?” O'Reily asked, a small bit of humor in his voice.

 

“Yes. Now can I please go sit down?” The clerk was still white.

 

“Yes.” O'Reily nodded to the officer. “Let him sit in your car.” The officer led the clerk away. O'Reily looked at Nick. “I'll deal with the witnesses and make sure his story is true.”

 

“And I'll deal with the crime scene.” Nick walked towards the store and looked in the glass doors.

 

There were video game cases and bills all over the floor. And there was a black ski mask next to the door. Nick opened the first door, and then tried the other one. It wouldn't open. He picked up the mask and placed it in a bag. He then bagged all the money and games and began searching around the counter. He dusted the entire top of the counter and found quite a few fingerprints, but a palm print near the cash register on the customer side looked the most promising. He also found a black glove, like the clerk had described. After a few hours of inspecting the store, O'Reily walked in the front doors.

 

“Nick, you can pack up here. Even if you're not done.”

 

Nick stood up and gave him a puzzled look. “What?”

 

“Anything else isn't very relevant right now.” O'Reily shook his head in disgust. “He slipped through out fingers, Nick. He used a stolen van and escaped.” he paused. “Our suspect is no longer just running from us for armed robbery. He escalated from that to murder.”

 

As Nick and O'Reily drove to a home in the nearby neighbourhood, O'Reily filled him in on what they had found. He told him that Warrick had been called into a murder in the nearby neighbourhood about an hour ago, and it was suspected that the robber had also done the murder. They could validate that with the glove Nick found as another was found at the murder scene minutes earlier.

 

They parked on the side of the road, and Nick got out. Another lab SUV was parked nearby, and he knew Warrick was inside. He walked under the yellow tape and headed to the spare bedroom. Warrick greeted him at the door.

 

“Hey Nick. Looks like we'll be working together after all.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Can you fill me in here?”

 

“Sure man,” Warrick led him into the room. There was a large hole in the ceiling and parts of it were all over the bed and floor. “I checked around the body, and they removed it not too long ago. It was at the foot of the bed. His name was Ben Johnson, I talked to his wife. She said she came home and saw the front door open and the van gone. She had called for one of the many officers in the area, and he went inside and found the body. She identified it as her husband. Checked the attic too right after the body was removed. I found a glove up there, which brought you into this case.”

 

He walked over to the door and pulled out a black glove from a paper bag. Nick had carried the glove in another paper bag and pulled it out. They held the gloves next to each other. They were identical.

 

“Well, there we have it.” They put the gloves away and started to get to work. “Nick, guess where the suspect was hiding this whole time.”

 

“No, where would that be?” Nick guessed the attic, considering there was a hole in the ceiling.

 

Warrick looked up into the hole. “In the attic. Found a palm print on the ladder and the dust was disturbed where he hid, but there's nothing else up there other then dust and more dust. And the glove.”

 

Nick took another step forward and his foot hit something hard underneath the bed.

 

“Did you find a gun at the video store, Nick? Cause' if you didn't, we're hoping it's here. We'll find it if it is. Haven't checked the dresser or the bed yet either.” Nick bent down and got hold of something. “What you find?”

 

He picked it up. It was a revolver, like the one that had been used to hold up the store. “I found the gun now.” Nick said triumphantly.

 

“I guess you did.”

 

As they checked the rest of the room, it wasn't very eventful. They did find a palm print on the top of the dresser, which they could compare to the one Nick found on the counter. By the time they had finished, it was getting dark and both of them wanted out of that spare bedroom. As they began to leave, they made a quick timeline of what had happened. They believed that the suspect had fled after the failed robbery at the video store, and ended up in Mr. Johnson's attic. Then the floor of the attic collapsed, and when Mr. Johnson came to see what had happened, he found the suspect. The suspect then struggled with Mr. Johnson, and strangled him with a tie that was lying around.

 

They both drove to the lab as fast as they could, so they could get their prints put into APHIS and see of they had a match.

 

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The garage in CSI HQ was full of life as Hillary and Sara began to look over the car again. They had put the hair Sara had found into DNA analysis, given Brass the room key to see who it belonged to, and had gotten the mold of the wound in the back of Ms. Doe's head. They had gone to an autopsy with Dr. Robbins, and learned that she was stabbed once in the head, and died from blood loss.

 

They began to go around the car, hoping that they had somehow missed the knife that killed her, and that it was hidden in the car. Hillary had began to check under the car and Sara had taken the seats out and was looking around inside. Sara's pager went off.

 

“Greg has the DNA information about the hair. Do you want to stay here while I go check it out?”

 

Hillary's voice was muffled as she called up from under the car. “Sure.”

Sara walked out the door and Hillary continued to look around under the car. After a few more minutes of searching, she decided to get out for a moment and stretch her legs, it was cramped in there! She stretched her arms and heard someone come in the door. She didn't think it was Sara, because she knew that Greg always had a story to tell and that it took awhile for the information to print off.

 

She turned her head. It was Nick. A smile crept across her face as he walked up to her and stood in front of her.

 

“Hello, Nick.”

 

“Hey, Hil. I haven't been able to talk to you all day. Are you in the middle of something?”

 

“No, just taking a break.” She knew she didn't look very good, considering she had just spent an hour underneath a car.

 

“Good. I'm just waiting for some print analysis. Jeese, I heard about the `Jane Doe' thing.”

 

Hillary smiled. It was very odd for someone to have a name like that. “Yeah. We're just waiting for a brother or something or hers to have the name `John'.”

 

Nick gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah. We're still searching for a suspect; I'm hoping that the print analysis comes back with an answer.” They could talk for hours on a case alone. But Nick decided to change the subject to the date tomorrow. “So, where do you want to go for dinner tomorrow?” He tried to sound as strong as he could, but he was nervous about it.

 

“Hmmm. I don't know. Do you have any ideas?” Hey, to her simply going out with Nick anywhere would be great.

 

“Yes,” Nick hoped she liked it. “There's a little Italian restaurant near the movie theater. We could go there, if it's okay with you.”

 

Hillary nodded her head. “That's perfectly fine with me.”

 

“Good.” Nick was glad. Suddenly his pager went off. The print analysis was ready. “I'll pick you up at nine.” Hillary nodded her head in agreement, and Nick headed out. “See you later.”

 

“Bye.” She still had a huge grin on her face as she lied back down on the stretcher and was about to wheel herself underneath the car again as she saw something white out of the corner of her eye. She looked closer at the car muffler.

 

Nick passed Sara as he left and they exchanged greetings. Sara walked up to the side of the car, holding the results from the DNA analysis.

 

“So I see you finally got to talk to Nick.” she said.

 

“Yep.” Hillary stuck her hand into the muffler and touched something.

 

Sara wasn't looking at Hillary. “So, we don't have a match for the hair sample.” Hillary didn't reply, so Sara continued. “But we did find the owner of the room key. A Mitchell Evans. Appears he's a fairly wealthy man from New York who is in Las Vegas on vacation. He hasn't got a criminal record.” Hillary again didn't reply. Sara looked over the back of the car. “Hillary? Are you even listening?”

 

“Yes, Sara. But there's something in this muffler I just can't quite reach.”

 

Sara walked to the back of the car. Hillary pulled her hand out and looked into the muffler. There was something wrapped in what looked like a scarf.

 

“Well, let's get the saw.”

 

They put on goggles and ear muffs and took out the electric saw. They cut the end off the muffler so they could reach the object inside. When they pulled it out and unwrapped it, they found there was a knife. It was clean.

 

“Well, this could be the knife that killed her.” Hillary said. She couldn't believe they hadn't found it before.

 

“Yeah. It was wedged up in the back, a good hiding place.”

 

“Hey, you two.” The girls turned their heads to see Brass in the doorway. “We've got Mr. Evans on his way over for questioning. You should get ready.”

 

“Okay, Brass.” Sara said as he left and she wrapped the knife back up. She looked at Hillary. “I'll check this over for blood and quickly make a mold of it. You should go wash up.”

 

Hillary nodded her head. “Gladly.”

 

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Warrick and Nick were discussing the information they had now as they walked down the hall. The palm print on the dresser and the palm print on the counter were an exact match. Also, the prints had been on APHIS. A man by the name of Victor Williams, who had been arrested for assault with a deadly weapon, several counts of breaking and entering, vehicle thief, came up immediately. The clerk confirmed that he was the man who had robbed him. The stolen van was on bulletin, and they would continue to look for it.

 

They were heading towards the evidence locker, to check what they had found. At the moment, all they could do was hope that the suspect would be found and captured before he killed again.

 

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“Mr. Evans. My name is Sara Sidle, and this is my partner, Hillary Matthews. We're with the crime lab.” Sara explained to Mitchell Evans as she and Hillary sat down across the table from him in the interrogation room.

 

“Right now, I don't care who you are. Why in hell did you make me come over here? I'm here on vacation! My bloody secretary called me from New York and told me that the police wanted to talk to me!” It was obvious he was ticked off, and he didn't care that he was showing it.

 

“Do you recognize this woman?” Hillary asked, placing the autopsy picture of Jane Doe on the table.

 

He looked at it blankly. “No. Why would I?” he snapped.

 

“You might want to change your answer,” Brass said as he stood by the doorway, leaning up against the wall.

 

“No I don't. I've never seen this woman in my life!”

 

“We have reason to believe, Mr. Evans, that you were in her car.” Sara began. “We found a room key that belonged to you, in the back seat of her silver Pontiac Firebird. Can you explain that?”

 

“What? I thought I told you… Wait. I remember something. I was in the hotel parking lot, and I had just left from a party. This girl, Verissa I think, and I were walking around and she said that she wanted to show me her car. She took me over to a silver Pontiac Firebird and let me sit in the back seat. That damn broad. I was really wasted, and I can't remember anything else.”

 

Hillary and Sara looked at each other.

 

“Right.” Brass said. “Do you mind giving us your DNA and fingerprints then?”

 

“What for?” he asked, glaring at Brass.

 

“They'll either clear your name or put you behind bars.” Brass was talking about some fingerprints Sara had found on the knife.

 

Sara had also found a small amount of blood lodged up between the blade and handle. Both were being analyzed. But the mold of Ms. Doe's wound and the mold of the knife matched, which meant the knife had been used to kill her. If they could find Evan's fingerprints on the knife, they would know he was lying.

 

“Well,” Evans said. “Then I want my lawyer.” He got up and left.

 

Brass looked at Hillary and Sara. “His story came pretty easily to him. I'll keep an eye on him,” he told them. The interrogation was over.