Title: Capable Of Murder
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Series: 1) Bewilderment, 2) Take Me Home, 3) Cynics, 4) Blood Spatters, 5) Hello Mr. Sanders, 6) Hitting The Wall
Note: This is based off of 'Daddy's Little Girl'. The rape/non-con warning is not very graphic or extreme.
Summary: Sylvia Mullins is dead, Kelly's not back, and Greg's new caretaker gets bored.
***"I thought we were only working Greg's case," Nick asked Sofia as he got out of his car and surveyed the crime scene. A woman was pinned between the wall and a car.
"Vegas never sleeps. Besides, the registered owner has a connection to Kelly Gordon."
"What?" Catherine asked as she looked up from her kit.
Sofia pointed to an appointment book lying by the car. "I flipped through it and found Kelly Gordon's name in it."
Catherine gaped at her. "You know better than anyone not to do that."
Sofia looked back, "I also know how to document and collect evidence. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't wasting your time – if there was no connection, I would have called someone from another shift."
"So when did Kelly meet with...?" Nick trailed off as he circled the vehicle.
"Sylvia Mullins. She's an accountant and this is her car. She met Kelly yesterday – a Saturday, which I find strange – and we don't know the reason for the visit or if they had any prior relationship."
Nick looked up to the ceiling and at a camera. "Does that thing record?" he asked, pointing.
"Already sent it into the lab," Sofia answered following his gaze. "Should I call Kelly in yet?"
"No," Catherine answered briskly. "We've got nothing on her yet. Brass already pulled strings by getting her to come in once, doing it again would just be harassment." She sighed, pulled on her gloves, and began to process.
Again, Nick and Archie worked together on a tape – which was fine until a hooded figure came up and manually readjusted the focus. After that occurred they were unable to see any other clear details. They already had someone looking to see if they could get any usable prints.
"I'll keep working," Archie said as he turned to Nick. "There has got to be something we can use here."
Nick began to leave. "Hey Nick?"
"Do you have audio on Sylvia Mullins?"
"I was thinking, she might be the other voice on your tape that we haven't ever been able to identify – I mean that could be the link between Kelly and Sylvia, right? I mean – anything is worth a shot isn't it?" Archie's gaze went downwards, trying not to show his fear.
"Yeah," Nick said, putting his hand on Archie's shoulder. "I was going to work on the personal affects not, so I'll send you a sample."
Nick went and barricaded himself into an empty room. He took out a notebook and set up all of this AV equipment and began going through the audio evidence that was found with Sylvia. He found the part on the tape where Sylvia had recorded her conversation with Kelly Gordon.
"Hey, Kelly – have a seat."
"Thanks for seeing me, I know you said we didn't have to do this in person."
"No, I'm really glad you came. Your father loved you very much."
"A bit too much. I just wanted to talk about his estate – is what he did going to affect it?"
"That's, uh... it's kinda complicated."
Nick clicked off the tape. He called Archie to tell him that the new audio had been filed, so he could go ahead and compare the two samples. He phone had been on silent and he had missed a call from Catherine. Her message told him the worst news – there were no usable prints on the camera. She did have some interesting news about numerous calls to the Cayman Islands, but that could have nothing to do with Greg's kidnapping.
Nick leaned back in his chair. He felt frustrated and lost – they had been working nonstop and it seemed like they had nothing more than when they had started. Nick groaned and looked up to see Warrick staring at him.
"How are you holding up, Nicky?"
"Not well – you?"
"Dead end after dead end. We don't even know what they want with Greg."
"I know, at least if they made some demands we could be doing something."
Warrick sat down across the table from Nick. "I don't know what to say to you right now. I wish I did."
"What do you mean?" Nick was visibly bothered by the remark.
"I didn't know you were gay."
"Does this have anything to do with your case?"
"Yes and no. There have been a lot of changes, but it has just lead me to something that I have wanted for a while."
"Oh. Well – do you love him?" Warrick fidgeted nervously, he knew this was not the best time to have this discussion with his friend – but they both needed something to talk about that didn't involve the case directly.
"I think so. I mean, I know I do as a friend. The other thing – it's still too early to tell. I think I might." It was the first time that he had verbalized this to another person. Nick thought for a moment – they needed to just lay it all on the table. "Do you love Tina?"
Warrick stared at his hands, refusing to look at Nick. "I don't know. We were dating before you were taken and then, afterwards, I don't know. I was just confused. I guess I realized that I don't want to die alone and in this job you never know when it's gonna be your last day." He finally looked up.
"The thing with Greg is – I don't really know what it is. I finally get to make some headway into how I feel about him and now he's gone."
Warrick stared at his friend – he had used the past tense: gone. "You don't think we'll get him back?"
"It's Monday, Warrick – he's been gone since Friday morning. We've done kidnappings before and we know the likelihood of someone being found alive after 24 hours – especially when there haven't been any demands."
"You can't give up hope, Nick. You were the one that never gave up hope for that little girl. You can't give up hope for Greg." He reached out to hug his friend, but Nick got out of his seat and walked to the window, avoiding the touch.
"I just wish they would give us something! We got that horrible picture on Saturday and nothing since. The only thing we knew was that he was alive when they took him. Now we don't know anything except that whoever took him is now capable of murder." He fought the tears stinging at his eyes.
Warrick walked up behind him and tentatively placed his hand on Nick's shoulder. "You think the people who killed Sylvia Mullins are the same people that took Greg?"
Nick turned to his friend, unable to hold back the tears. "I know it – I just can't prove it," he choked out in broken sobs into Warrick's chest.
Greg knew that he had been there for at least a few days. While blindfolded, someone had tried to feed him a little bit of rice and some water. He knew it wasn't Kelly, so he did his best to behave and not to anger the big hands that had manhandled him. He had been taken to the bathroom several times – it seemed that his captor had taken care to come in every few hours to take care of the situation. It had been humiliating. He had remained blindfolded, naked, and bound as a stranger intimately led him to the bathroom and held onto his penis as he relieved himself.
Kelly had not been back since she told him that she would be gone. Greg wondered if the team had called her in. In more desperate moments, he began to wonder if the team had assumed he was already dead. He heard the door open.
"Do you know what day it is, boy?" The voice was masculine and rough. Greg assumed that it was the voice of the man who had been caring for him, though he had never heard it before.
"No, sir." Be on your best behavior.
Greg didn't know how to respond. The voice kept talking.
"I've been watching you for more than a day now, and I've grown bored." The voice was closer now – Greg could sense his movements close to the bed. The lights were on now – he could see it seeping in through his blindfold. A large hand landed on his stomach.
"Kelly tells me you like boys."
Greg swallowed and tried to control his breathing as the hand moved lower.
"I think that you owe me something for all the good things I've done for you, boy. I've fed you, given you water, taken you to the bathroom. I've never hurt you. I think I deserve a payment for that." The man was sitting on the bed now, rubbing Greg's dick.
Greg bit his lip and tried to hold back tears. He couldn't respond even if he had any clue what to say. The weight shifted again and the man was nearly sitting on his chest.
"You've got a pretty mouth, boy." A zipper was undone and the man leaned over to put his hands on the headboard of the bed. Something slapped against Greg's face – Greg knew what it was. "Open wide."
Greg kept his mouth closed shut as tight as he could. He prayed that he was any where else – prayed that someone would burst through the door and rescue him – but no one came. The hand grabbed onto his injured wrist and pushed – causing Greg to gasp and for the man to win.
***Next story in series - The Good Boy.
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