NOTE-There will be more, just wanted to try it out to see what everyone thinks. I know there have been already a few post 'Gedda' love stories but this came to me when I was trying to fall asleep yesterday morning and I had to jump and write. Enjoy ;)|
Grissom’s head had just hit the pillow when he got the call. Brass’s name glowed in unforgiving neon until he answered. He was quick and frazzled, mumbling out an address that Gil had to ask him to repeat when he realized its familiarity. He dug through the files on his desk until he found the right one, and there it was, 1760 River Drive, Nick’s address.
Not 15 minutes had passed when he pulled into the residence and saw Catherine standing along side Jim. Police cars, a mortuary van, and an ambulance littered the drive way. His colleagues stood with stone faces and for the first time he heard Brass’s voice so solemn it could have brought down a funeral. He stood confused for a minute, taking in his surroundings, letting his usually rational mind run through horrible nightmares.
“It’s not Nick.” Catherine sighed, keeping her eyes on the ground.
Brass moved closer to the other man, “From what I can tell you now, Nick and undersheriff McKeen had a shoot out. I don’t know anything except when they were wheeling Nick out he kept repeating, ”He did it.” before he passed out. He took one to the chest and one to the shoulder, he’s in surgery.”
Gil clenched his jaw, “I know Warrick’s just been reinstated but we’re going to need all the help we-“
“Gil, Warrick was shot outside of the diner. He’s, he’s dead.” Catherine’s voice was almost out of place.
“Why wasn’t I called? I should’ve been notified, we should be primaries!” Grissom shouted above the noise buzzing around them.
“Listen, I got the call about Warrick, the case was already assigned to days. That wasn’t even an hour ago and I get the call about Nick, about the undersheriff. Right now you know as much as I do.” Brass said sternly, “You two should go inside.”
They grabbed their kits and entered the house without being given a second to think. McKeen lay in a pool of blood in the otherwise spotless living room, his gun still tangled loosely in his fingers. Doc Robbins knelt over him, David on the other side holding a clipboard. Grissom nodded to Catherine, giving her a silent signal to take the living room while he turned the corner to the kitchen, where another blood pool and bloody hand prints around it dried. He looked over his shoulder; there was no way a shot could have come from the kitchen to where McKeen now laid.
He tried to make a logical excuse, tried to wrap his mind around shots happening before and after and around a corner until Catherine came in to join him.
“Doc says that from the wound placement McKeen died instantly, no way around it. Nicky was shot in here?”
“It looks that way. No droplets from the living room to here, just the puddle and the hand prints…And his gun is in the hallway.” Grissom droned methodically, but had to catch himself on the last few words, the things he couldn’t explain.
“I’ll start in the hallway and work my way upstairs.” Catherine said.
Soon the rooms were filled with numbered yellow placards, swabs, files, and print lifters. They swept over every inch of the house meticulously, making sure not to miss a single fiber that could be tied to what had happened, whatever had happened. The undersheriff’s body was taken away and four hours later the only other people left were a few officers and Brass, who was carting himself between the two crime scenes.
Catherine walked into the bedroom, studying anything and everything but the only noticing that it was as neat and spotless as the rest of the house. Nothing to out of the ordinary caught her eye; a closet, a bed, an over sized dresser with pictures and trinkets. She found her way into the bathroom and stopped suddenly, mouth gaping open.
Cath pushed a button on her phone, “Grissom, get up here now.”
Her hands fell to her sides, still in shock from her recent discovery.
“What is it? Did you…Oh,”
The duo stared at the three 8”x10” photos hanging above the rectangular wall mirror. The one to the far right, a black and white close up of Nick and Greg from a side view, the sun making contrast with shadows on their faces, the middle showed the two under an arch of white lilies and tulips, both in suits with arms wrapped around each other and the last to the left, two hands, fingers entwined, gold bands on each of the ring fingers. Everything in an instant had cleared up and clouded over at the same time.
Catherine looked out of the corner of her eye at Grissom, “This day just…”
“Come on, there’s nothing up here.”
“But, Grissom, what about,” Catherine motioned towards the pictures.
But he was out of the room and down the stairs before she could finish her question.