Disclaimer：I do not own any CSI Next Station：HAPPINESS ? Chapter One Time passed when we were considering if the scenery out of the window was the one we wanted or was it really worth to stop by. And then, we missed the chance to get off the bus and the saddest thing was that we also missed the chance to confirm our hesitation was right or wrong. That was a normal night as usual. Leaving the Denali, Gil Grissom and Catherine Willows passed through the crowd, ducked under the crime scene tape and stepped into their work place. They had a DB tonight, that was not actually a complete corpse; it was slivered into thirteen pieces of flesh that were tightly sealed in plastic bags.
Summary：Who is the person Grissom thinks of at crime scene? GSR
Rating：T
A/N：Thank you so much to Cropper for the beta.
Captain Jim Brass stood near the big green dumpster nodded to the two investigators. “Miss Cart called the police one hour ago, her cat jumped into this dumpster and she discovered those bags when she got her cat back. Victim’s ID hasn’t been found yet… Poor girl, don’t know what she did to get herself into something like this.”
Catherine looked around. The people who were separated outside the scene by the yellow line were looking at them and gossiping as if the three of investigators were some strange species of wild animal they had never seen. Catherine watched them watch her and then turned to face Brass. “How did you know it’s a girl? Jim?”
“Well, I haven’t seen the main male trait in any of those bags.” Brass shrugged.
Catherine flashed a smile to the captain. “Good observation.”
The night shift supervisor had not said a word since he arrived in the scene. Grissom was just flashing his light to check the things in the dumpster silently and there was no expression on his face.
“Gil? Find something?” Catherine noticed the odd action of her boss.
“Lost your sense of humor? Buddy?” Brass took a close look at what Grissom was looking at.
Grissom had been doing his work over fifteen years. He had solved numerous unusual suicide cases, freaky kidnap cases, abnormal or eccentric murder cases; those cases made him felt angry and sorry for victims’ families, but he had never felt as tense as he did now. Actually, he experienced the same feeling once before, it was not anger or frustration feeling, it was fear.
He was afraid.
It seemed something had blocked his throat. Grissom could not find his voice immediately, and instead his replying, he took one bag from the dumpster on his left hand and cleared his throat. “Cut is very clean.”
Catherine shone her light on the edge of the bagged body and said. “Looks like this murderer used a very sharp tool.”
Brass looked at his friend and the wrapped bag confusedly. “This bag reminds you of something?”
Grissom frowned and griped the bag on his hand tight as if it could loosen the tension in his mind.
“Debbie Marlin...” The conversation with Dr. Lurie was haunting Grissom’s mind.
＊＊＊
“Sara I know a great diner, we can go to try it after shift.” Greg Sanders said as he handed the kit to his co-worker and said it cheerfully.
“Thanks Greg, but I don’t know if I’ll be hungry later.” Sara Sidle smiled, received her kit and walked towards to a house in which a neighbor had reported hearing gunfire.
“Try a nicer excuse next time, Sanders.” Warrick Brown walked in front of them and chuckled.
“What took you guys so long?” Detective Sofia Curtis stood in the living room of the victim’s house.
The smile faded away as Warrick heard the unpleasant greeting. “We got here as soon as possible.” he replied to the blond detective.
Sofia pointed her finger t the dead bodies. “The neighbor, Mr. and Mrs. Bruce heard sound of gunfire twice and they called the police. I have verified their IDs. The male is Aaron Harrison, 35 years old. According to the neighbor, the female, Renee Mason, 27 years old, is his girlfriend. They were in that position when we arrived and there was a gun near the male victim.”
There was a black wooden cabinet in the left of the living room, a light blue crystal vase on it and three light yellow calla lillies in the vase. The top drawer of the cabinet was opened and there were some bullets in it. A white sofa and a black square coffee table sat in front of the cabinet and a white arm chair rested behind the coffee tale. The position of the female victim was unusual; she sat on the floor, back against the edge of cushion of right side of the sofa, both hands drooping on the floor on each side. Trace of the blood from victim’s neck became a startling contrast against the white sofa.
Her throat was cut and eyes were half closed.
The male victim lay prone on the floor near the arm chair and his face was turned towards the famous smiling Mona Lisa painting which hung on the cream color wall. A deep wound on his right forearm and a blood pool from his left temple dyed his pale face red.
“I’ll photograph the bodies.” said Sara. She took five photos from different angles of the male body.
Warrick nodded and turned to face Greg. “Greg, take the front yard and see if we can get some shoeprints.”
The youngest CSI took one camera and hung it around his neck. “You got it.”
“I’m gonna check other rooms.” As he finished his sentence, Warrick went down the hall.
David Phillips brushed past Greg at the front door and the younger coroner walked speedily towards the living room. “Sorry I’m late.” David stood near the male victim, smiled to Sara and then started doing his work expertly. David touched the arm of the male body then tweaked the left thigh. “All of the muscles are at the real relaxed condition, time of death is less than one hour.”
After she swabbed the blood near the male body, Sara was treading with care while she took the photos of the female body. Suddenly, she saw something moving through her camera lens.
Something was twitching.
A finger.
She put the camera on the coffee table, knelt near the female victim and did not dare blink her eyes as she focused on the little finger of the victim’s right hand. The movement was slight, but Sara was sure that Miss Mason was moving.
“Ambulance, call an ambulance, she is alive.” Her voice cut through the silent night like a sharp knife. Sara shouted as loud as she could, becoming the voice of the female victim. Sara felt that if she cried more stridently and furiously, those memories of infinite pains, cruel tortures and great frights of the victim were disappeared.
TBC
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