The Foolish Corner

Chapter 6 - Say
what?

Bobby Dawson, the charming Texan firearms expert, had good
news for Warrick and Nick. “All the projectiles from the Mount Charleston case
are from the same gun. I’m absolutely certain of it.”

“Can you identify the gun?” Warrick asked him.

“I surely can. It’s a Sig Sauer P226, probably the sports
model. Nine millimeter ammo. Sig’s are used by a lot of law enforcement
agencies, although sports models can be purchased by civilians. People who know
Sig’s like them for their accuracy and dependability; they’re good for
competitions.”

“Also good for killing people.” Warrick added. Bobby and
Nick nodded in solemn agreement.

~~~~~

Gentle rain was pattering softly against Sara’s living room
window. She had come back to her apartment after a long, somewhat frustrating,
shift of trying to identify the fibers found at MC1. Her progress had been
limited - all the fibers were from fabrics commonly used for clothing. Nothing
remarkable about them. They could have come from the clothes the vics had been
wearing; or, just as easily, they could be from the suspects’ clothing. At the
moment, there was no way to tell.

She stood watching the rain. Grissom was still at work,
trying to catch up on some paperwork. He had quipped, paraphrasing the old
chestnut, “A CSI may work from sun to sun, but a supervisor’s work is never
done.” They had made plans to get together as soon as he could break away, and
she had come home. Home, yes technically it was still her home; it was where
she had lived ever since coming to Vegas. She and Gil divided their off-duty
time more or less equally between their two places. While they had recently
exchanged house keys, they weren’t yet actually living together. Still, neither
of them had slept alone since he had finally opened up and let her into his
life.

Wandering into the kitchen, she opened the fridge, and
pulled out a single-serving tub of non-fat yogurt; then she dug a spoon out of
a drawer. She ate standing up, leaning against the counter. She was restless,
antsy, waiting for him to arrive. Her home felt lonely, somehow empty,
without him there; she missed him.

She hadn’t meant to grill him about Rachel; she knew Rachel
was no threat to her. She had seen Rachel and Nick together at Jim and Lynne’s
party; had observed the way they had looked at each other. They might as well
have had a flashing neon sign over their heads; one reading “We’re in love!”,
in very tall red letters. And, she certainly had no reason to question her Love
Bug’s commitment and devotion. Quite the contrary; he was almost too attentive
and considerate. Almost. She actually loved the way he pampered her; she had
always known that he had a huge heart hidden under the facade of indifference
he projected. She cringed to think just how hurt he must have been that time
she had accused him of feeling nothing.

Lost in her thoughts, she realized that she was again
looking out at the rain, her eyes tracing the paths of individual drops as they
slowly slid down the smooth glass. She heard the door open behind her. Good, he
had used his key instead of ringing the bell. She waited by the window; he came
up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She covered his hands with
her own and gently leaned into him. He kissed her neck and softly said, “Honey,
I’m home.”

“Yes, Love Bug, you most certainly are.”

~~~~~

Fidgeting in his chair, Warrick waited for the tire print
database to give him some results. Normally a patient man, he was getting
frustrated; this seemed to be taking way too long. After finding the first
print, he and Catherine had found one other, slightly deeper, impression a few
hundred yards farther along their path. They had also found a few splashes of
blood; not quite enough to clearly indicate a blood trail, but interesting nonetheless.

Finally, the computer chimed, signaling the end of the
database search. The screen read, “No match found.”

“Damn. Nothing!” He shouted as he stood up and started
pacing around the room, attempting to figure out his next step.

“You aren’t going to throw any phone books, are you?” Sara
was standing in the doorway. He grunted.

“I got a pattern I can’t ID. I thought it might be from a
tire, but the database couldn’t match it.” he explained.

“Mind if I take a look?”

“Knock yourself out.” He showed her both casts. “Anything
you recognize?”

Sara was concentrating on the patterns; Warrick could see
her thinking. After a minute or so, she answered him, “I might know what this
is. Let me check something.”

She sat down at the computer, minimized the database, and
opened up an Internet browser. She began a search for images of off-road motor
cycle tires. It took a while, but eventually she found it. “There it is. Honda
ATC 110. Three-wheeler. Honda hasn’t even made them for years, but there’s still
a few of them around. See, the tires are big balloon things with rectangular
knobs all over them. Great off-road, but don’t try riding on pavement.”

Warrick wasressressed; “How’d you know that?”

“My parents had a pair when I was a kid. Used to ride up and
down the beach on them. Sold them after my brother and his girlfriend went took
them joy-riding one night and cracked up. No serious injuries, just bumps and
bruises, but it still spooked my parents.”

“And you’re sure that’s what made these tracks?”

“Yeah. But we need to get hold of one of these tires to
prove it.”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can come up with. And, Sara, thanks.
I never would have gotten this on my own.” Gratitude sparkled in his gorgeous
eyes.

 <:p>

~~~~~

Nick Stokes was not in a good mood. In fact, he was in a
horribly bad mood. He and Rachel had been watching a movie in her condo when
her phone started ringing. She took the call in another room, but he could hear
her laughing. Not that he had been trying to eavesdrop, but fragments of con conversation
had drifted to where he could hear them. She seemed to be speaking ... French?
Then, he heard a phrase he thought he recognized. Definitely French. But, why
would she be saying that to someone else? Ending the call, she sat down
beside him again, saying, “Sorry, I had to take that. It was my cousin Jeremy.
He’s ...”

“Your cousin. I’m supposed to believe he’s your cousin.”
Even to his own ears, he had sounded
irrational.

Thoroughly confused, she had tried to explain, “He literally
is my cousin, Nick. His mom and my mom are sisters.”

Nick had glared at her, and grunted.

“Nicky, what’s happening here? Why are you acting like
this?”

“I should be asking you those questions? Why French?”

With her confusion giving way to anger, she had retorted,
“Why not French? Okay, so I speak French. Big hairy deal. Jeremy does, too. We
speak French with each other to keep in practice. So what. That’s no reason for
you to suddenly turn into a first-class jerk!”

Stunned, he had stared at her. Finally, he blurted, “I’m so
out of here.” and he had left.

Two hours later, he was just pulling into the crime lab
parking lot. The shift would be starting in a few minutes, and all he could
think about was Rachel and her so-called cousin. Cousin, my ass. People don’t
say things like that to their cousins. Well, not unless they came from
very strange families.

Hardly watching where he was going, he ran into Sara.
Literally. His car crashed into hers, causing the airbags to deploy. “Oh,
shit!” He groaned at the thought of the mountain of paperwork that would be
needed to deal with this, not to mention the royal ass-chewing he was likely to
get from Grissom.

An urgent knocking on his window brought him out of his
thoughts. “Nick! Are you hurt?” It was S

“No, I’m fine.”

“Good. Then, get out here so I can kick your ass!” She was
livid.

“What happened here?’ Warrick had arrived. Nick had finally
gotten out of his car; he looked over at the building to see Catherine and Greg
running over.

“Just a fender-bender.” He tried to play it down.

“Just what in hell did you think you were doing, Nick? You
drove right into me.” Sara was not going to let up.

“Sara, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? You totaled my car, and you’re sorry?”

Warrick, who had been examining the two vehicles, called
out, “Hey, has either of you called this in yet? Damage is pretty extensive.
Gotta be reported.”

Nick and Sara just stared at each other. “I’ll do it.” Nick
eventually mumbled. He grabbed his cell phone and punched in the numbers.

“Sara, are you okay?” She heard Gil’s voice behind her and
turned toward him. The look of concern on his face was unmistakable.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Angry and a bit rattled, but fine.”

“What happened? No, wait, don’t tell me; save it for the
investigating officer.” Feeling indescribably relieved, he glanced around, then
leaned a bit closer and spoke quietly, “I’m just glad you’re okay, Honey.” He
was treated to one of her huge smiles.

~~~~~

Dawn was about to break over the eastern horizon. The
aftermath of the collision had overshadowed the shift for all of them; at first
with the organized chaos of the investigation in the parking lot. Later,
Grissom had attempted to keep everyone doing their usual work, but wit mut much
success. The people of the lab, Grissom included, were upset; CSI’s weren’t
supposed to be involved in traffic accidents, let alone cause them in their own
parking lot. And, he reluctantly admitted to himself, especially not when they
involved his beloved Sara. Nick would probably have to be suspended, at least
for a few days. Grissom sighed. He knew it would be risky, but he needed to see
Sara; she would help him regain his emotional equilibrium. He sent her a text
message, and made his way to the supply room.

She quietly entered the room, and stepped into his waiting
arms. “Hey, Love Bug. You okay? You look a little frazzled.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Especially now that you’re here. I just
needed to see you.” He smiled, his eyes locked onto hers. Then, he kissed her.
He had meant it to be just a little peck, but the need for comfort they were
both feeling rapidly morphed into passion. The kiss became deeper and more
intense. Neither wanted to break away, although both knew they had to stop.
This was dangerous; getting caught could have serious career consequences for
both of them.

Finally, Sara pulled back. “Gil, if we don’t stop now, we
never will. You know that.” She moved farther away from him.

He caught her arm, and pulled her in close again. “I know. I
do know. But I almost don’t care because, Sara, right now I want you so badly
it hurts.” He tried to kiss her again; she dodged him.

“I want you, too. Never doubt that. But, it can’t happen
here, Gil. Not here. But, shift is almost over; we can go back to my place and
let loose.” She stepped back, putting a little more space between them. “In
fact, I’m going to need a ride home because my car isn’t drivable. You could
politely offer; you know, just extending a courtesy to a colleague. Nobody
would suspect any ulterior motives.”

Feeling calmer and much more in control of himself, Grissom
beamed at her. “Oh, Sara; that’s brilliant.” He chuckled, “Devious, but
brilliant. You know, I fell in love with your mind first.”

Grinning back at him, she teased, “Smart is sexy, so they
say.”

“In your case, Honey, nothing could be more true.”

~~~~~

“Aristotle once said, ‘There is a foolish corner in the
brain of the wisest man.’ It would seem that your ‘foolish corner’ got you into
a whole lot of trouble.” Grissom was speaking to Nick. “I understand what
you’ve been telling me, but I
nevertheless have to suspend you, three days, but with pay. I’m sorry,
Nick, my hands are tied on this. That accident should never have happened; it
was completely avoidable. That’s the conclusion reached by the investigating
officer. Plus there’s the fact that, according to your own written statement,
you were not totally focused on your driving at the time; well, there’s no
other possible outcome. You were negligent; you caused the accident. The fact
that there were no injuries is a bonus; but, unfortunately, it doesn’t mitigate
the situation. You messed up badly, Nick. I can’t overlook this; and, I can’t
cover for you.”

“Yes, Boss. I understand.” Feeling smaller than a flea, Nick
quietly sat there and meekly took what Grissom was dishing out. He couldn’t
argue with any of it. Truthfully, he had expected the disciplinary action to be
much harsher. The meeting had started out with Grissom asking for full
disclosure of the the accident had happened, off the record and confidential.
So, Nick had told him in detail about the spat with Rachel; and how upset he
had been by the phone conversation he had overheard.

“Boss, may I go now?” Nick wanted to get out of there.

Grissom hesitated. “Just one more thing, Nicky. I’m by no
means an expert on French, but has it occurred to you that the phrase you heard
Rachey may may not mean what you think it does? Perhaps you simply
misunderstood.”

Nick’s face was a study in conflicting emotions as he attempted
to process this obviously new idea. “Misunderstood? No, that hadn’t occurred to
me. But, if it doesn’t mean what I thought, what does it mean?”

“If one needs correct information, one must ask not only the
correct question, but the correct person.”

“The correct person? You mean ...” he left the sentence
unfinished. Grissom arched an eyebrow at him, encouraging Nick to continue the
thought.

 ndifndif]>

“Is that Aristotle again, that riddle?”

With a kind smile, Grissom answered “No, that’s Grissom.
Just think about it. And, yes, you may go now.”

~~~~~

“Of course I can’t tell you. It’s confidential. I’m shocked
you’d even ask.” Grissom was angry; Sara was demanding to know exactly what
Nick had said during their meeting. “All I can tell you is what you already
know. Three days suspension.”

“Gil, it was his fault. Not mine, his.”

“No one’s disputing that.”

“I just want to know why. Why did it happen? What was he
thinking?”

“Yes, Sara. You want to know. You even nto kto know. I
understand that. All I’m saying is I can’t tell you. I can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it. Doesn’t Nick boast about you being his best
friend?”

“You know about that?”

He answered mysteriously, “You might be surprised at what a
ghost knows. But, yeah, I know about it.”

Sara didn’t get it. “Okay, but what does that have to do
with this?”

Grissom switched into teacher-mode, “Put it together. He
messed up, big time’s e’s upset. He maybe needs to talk about it, but - hey -
his best fr wan wants to kill him.”

“Well, he did wreck my car.”

“And you need to know why.”

“Now you’re talking in circles. Not to mention riddles. Just
tell me whatever it is you’re thinking.”

“Okay, Sara. I’m thinking that you, as his alleged best
friend, should act like his friend.”

“Meaning what, exactly?”

“Meaning ...” He paused, struggling to find the right words,
“go ... go ... talk to the guy.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. “Wait a minute. I think I get
it. You can’t tell me details, but he’s in more trouble than just the car accident.
That’s what this is all about. Isn’t it?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement. But it sure
took you long enough to figure it out.”

“And to think you called me devious.”

“Yeah, howut tut that?” His beautiful blue eyes twinkled
with mischief.

~~~~~

Armed with a peace offering of pizza and beer, Sara
hesitantly rang Nick’s doorbell. She had been so angry about the accident that
she had failed to recognize that her friend had needed her; now she felt
ashamed of herself. Unsure of what to say, knowing only that she mustn’t let on
that Gil had sent her here, she waited on the doorstep. Finally, the door
opened, and Nick was standing there looking at her.

“Sara. I wasn’t expecting you.” He sounded cautious, like he
thought she might yell at him again.

“I come in peace, Nicky. I promise to behave myself.” She
held out the pizza box. “This is for you. May I come in?”

“Yeah, okay.” He moved aside and she entered his home. He
closed the door and led her into the living room. “Sit down. I’ll just grab
plates.” He was back from the kitchen in seconds; he sat in a chair facing her.

She opened the pizza box and served him a large slice.
Hag hig him the plate, she said, “Nicky, I owe you an apology. A really big
one. I got so wrapped up in how the accident impacted me - sorry, no pun
intended - I never stopped to consider how it must have effected you. I really
let you down. I’m so sorry.” Tears were forming in her eyes; she didn’t love
Nick the way she did Gil - not even close to it - but she still cared deeply
about him. She was, after all, his best friend.

“Hey, Sara, don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m the one who totally
screwed up. I should be apologizing to you.”

“I’ll accept yours if you accept mine.” She brushed away the
tears.

“You got it, Sara. Hey, did I see beer?”

Laughing, she handed him a bottle. “So, now that we’re back
on track, are you okay? Is there anything you want to talk about?”

He munched on his pizza and thought about it. “Did you ever
take any French? High school, or college maybe?”

“No, I didn’t. Why?”

“I overheard Rachel on the phone. She was talking to her
cousin, but in French. I overheard something; I thought I knew what it meant,
and it freaked me out. I totally overreacted. Now, I think maybe I misunderstood.”

“What did you think you’d heard?”

Struggling with himself, wanting to tell her, alsoalso
somewhat embarrassed, he stood up and started pacing. “What I thought I heard
was ... well, I’m probably wrong.”

Sensing that this was important, she encouraged him to say
it, “Nick, please tell me. What got you so crazy?”

“I didn’t know she was talking to her cousin. I thought it
was just some other guy. I thought I heard her say she loved him. No, that she
adored him. I couldn’t handle it.”

“You thought she was cheating on you.” She said gently,
compassionately.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I don’t know, Sara, I’m so
confused.”

Sara’s CSI mind went into overdrive. “When exactly did this
happen, Nicky?”

He put his hands over his face and groaned aloud. “You
aren’t going to like this. It was right before the accident. Right before I
smashed into your car.”

“So, that’s what actually caused the accident.”

“Yeah, I said you wouldn’t like it.”

“You’re right, I don’t like it. But, never mind that. This
is about you. Have you talked to Rachel?”

“No, I’ve been busy, and embarrassed, and ...”

“You’ve been avoiding her.”

“Well, it’s mutual. She hasn’t exactly been trying to talk
to me, either.”

“Nicky, think about it. She must be feeling just as confused
and hurt as you are.” She paused, reading something in his deep brown
eyes, “And just as scared. You have a
choice to make. Either try to talk to her, try to heal this rift; or don’t and
probably lose her. I know how hard this must be for you. But, it’s up to you.”

“I guess she is the correct person after all.” Seeing
confusion on Sara’s face, he added. “Something Grissom told me. For correct
information, you need to ask the correct question of the correct person.”

Grinning, she replied, “Yeah, that sounds like ourstyle="mso-spacerun: yes"> Zen Bugman. So, are you okay now?”

“No, but I will be. I’ll call her.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. I’ll just make myself scarce,
give you a little privacy.” She stood up to leave. He hugged her.

“Oh, Sara, thank you. For everything.”

“No problem, Nicky. That’s what best friends are for.”