Thoughts of Fire, Doors of Vegas Chapter Two

A/N: I can’t confirm that the science in this story is one hundred percent true, but I do my research. If anything is off, that’s my mistake, and I apologize. The whole concept of this story is not meant to be completely realistic, mostly the ages of the CSIs. They’re ridiculously young, but I decided to make them geniuses. I don’t know how criminal investigations work in real life. That’s why I’m basing this on the show. I’m sure Vegas isn’t as violent as this. I’m going to stop rambling right now.

“The victim’s name is Jennifer Sumner.” Pete said to Patrick as they climbed into his car. He stuck his key in the ignition, “Sixteen years old. Ligature strangulation. The only bruise on her that’s not on her wrists or throat is a hickey on her shoulder.”

“Did you swab that for DNA?” Patrick asked, playing with the edge of his t-shirt.

Pete nearly ran into a car, “Goddamnit!” He yelled, the logic of the question registering in his mind, “Why didn’t I do that?”

“I don’t know. Keep driving.”

Pete mulled over his stupidity for a few seconds, then pulled out his phone. Speed dial Dr. Hurley. It rang three times before he picked up.

“Doc Hurley.”

“Why didn’t you remind me to swab the hickey for a DNA test?” He demanded angrily.

“I’m not the CSI,” Dr. Hurley laughed, “Aren’t you supposed to remember to do that?”

“Look,” Pete said, frustrated, “Can you please swab the hickey and send it to DNA?”

A scoff rang through the line, “To be quite honest, I was supposed to do that, thanks for reminding me.”

The call ended. Pete swore and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“What did the parents say?” Patrick broke the silence.

Pete tried to keep his eyes on the road, but eventually gave in and glanced at Patrick, “I didn’t talk to them. But they were out when the victim was murdered.” He stopped at a red light, “She had cocaine and alcohol in her system.”

“Cocaethylene.” Patrick said, “You sure she didn’t die from overdose?”

“I’m sure,” Pete replied, checking his rearview mirror. That Lexus was tailing him too closely, “We’re going back to her house, the scene of the crime. It’s our crime scene for twenty four hours, until we release it.”

He pulled up in front of the house and climbed out. Motioning Patrick to follow him, he grabbed his kit and walked to the front door, but not before nodding at Sisky, who was situated at the door.

Pete walked inside and set down his kit. “We’re looking for any traces of the killer. Blood, saliva, fingerprints, anything.”

Patrick began to walk around the house, “You guys didn’t get a good examination last night?”

“We sent down some rookies to do a run-through after I left, but I don’t trust them.” Pete called from the kitchen.

He ran his gloved fingers over the edge of the table and walked out of the kitchen. “I’m going to take a look upstairs,” He called to Patrick, moving towards the staircase.

In the master bedroom, Pete started going through the drawers. Each drawer had an impressive amount of clothes in it.

“You positive the killer was male?” Patrick asked, walking into the room.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” Pete replied, opening the second drawer, “We found lubricant on her ass, which means anal intercourse.” At the bottom drawer Pete pulled out a blue dildo and a pair of handcuffs. He raised an eyebrow at Patrick.

“Kinky,” Patrick commented, looking as if he was trying hide a smile.

“There’s more,” Pete reached in and pulled out a rope. “What do you think this is for?”

“Tying things.”

Pete inspected the rope closer, “This pattern looks familiar.” He tried hard to place where he’d seen it. Then it clicked, “This could be the possible object that strangled her. Bag it for me please.”

Madonna’s ‘Hung Up’ rang shrilly through the room. Pete felt himself flush and he heard Patrick chuckle. He pulled out his phone. The screen flashed ‘Asshole’.

“What is it?”

“I’ve got something on your victim that you might want to check out. Get here as soon as possible.” With that, Dr. Hurley hung up.

“Your expression is readable,” Patrick said to him after Pete shoved his phone in his pocket.

“The coroner said that there’s something he just saw on the victim.”

“You can leave, if you want,” Patrick offered, “I can finish up here.”

Pete looked around awkwardly, “Are you sure-”

“I’m new in this lab, not new at this job,” Patrick interrupted, smiling, “I’ll taxi back to the lab, don’t worry about it.”

Pete never let anyone stay at a crime scene by themselves, unless he’d worked with them before. But he let Patrick.

“I’ll be at the morgue.”

“I wasn’t very careful with her,” Dr. Hurley admitted as Pete walked into the morgue.

“Why not?” Pete demanded, throwing on a lab coat and pulling on a pair of gloves.

Dr. Hurley looked up at him, “I broke up with my girlfriend last night, and I get called for a 419. Turns out the body is a sixteen year old girl, how do you think I would feel?”

Pete almost felt sorry, “Shit, man,” He muttered, “That must suck.”

“I’m guessing that’s the most sympathy Pete Wentz is ever going to give me,” Dr. Hurley said.

“Probably,” Pete agreed, “Now what’s this evidence?”

“Take a look at this,” Dr. Hurley pointed to her left ear. Pete leaned closer. “If you look closely you’ll see that there are two holes inside her ear. They were made post-mortem.”

Pete leaned closer. Two small holes were carefully pierced through her cartilage, right above the earlobe. “What do you mean post mortem? Why would the killer make these holes?”

“You’re the CSI,” Dr. Hurley replied, “Tell me when you find out, because I cannot, for the life of me figure out why he would do this.”

“Thanks Doc,” Pete nodded and started walking out, “Remember to send the pictures of the victim.”

“Dr. Hurley said that the victim had two holes in her ear, made post-mortem,” Pete said walking into the break room, spotting Victoria at the table.

“Holes?” Victoria repeated, “Why would she have holes?”

“Piercings,” Joe said from the coffee-maker.

“No piercings, I said they were made post-mortem,” Pete scowled, “Fuck, I’m tired.”

“You’ve been up for a while,” Victoria said sympathetically.

“I searched the whole house. There’s no sign of the killer, other than the rope.” Patrick walked into the room, evidence in hand.

“Thanks Patrick,” Pete nodded, “Can you go check that out?”

When Patrick left the room, Victoria looked at Pete, “You let him stay at the crime scene by himself?” She grinned, “You’re getting soft.”

Pete ignored her. His pager beeped. The screen flashed ‘Mikey’. “I have DNA results,” Pete said leaving the room, “I’ll get back to you.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Mikey said as Pete walked inside the DNA lab. He handed him a sheet of paper, “You better be happy I put your before all the others. I’m going to burst your bubble though. XX.”

“What?” Pete exclaimed, shocked, “The hickey was from a girl?”

Mikey nodded, “Her DNA is not in the system, but it’s definitely from a girl.”

“What the fuck,” Pete murmured, “So the murderer is female.”

“You have no evidence of that. All you have is evidence that a female made the hickey on the victim’s shoulder. There might have been a third person. You know what that means?” Mikey raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Pete bit his lip, “I think we have a witness.”

“What did Dr. Hurley say the T.O.D. was?” Pete asked William as he passed by in the hallway.

“Coroner’s notes say around 12:33 AM.” He replied, “What do you have?”

“There was a hickey on the victim’s shoulder. It’s made by a female.” Pete frowned, “What do you think?”

“There’s something seriously fucked with what Jennifer Sumner was doing that night.” William sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

“I checked out the rope and I swabbed it for DNA.” Patrick said walking up beside Pete.

William shot him a small smile, “Mikey’s going to be doing a lot of work today.”

“Better than doing nothing at all,” A voice came up behind them, “I’m in night shift and I’ve been waiting for an assignment all night.”

“Gabe,” Pete said, grinning, “Your shift’s done.”

“You guys took all the cases last night.”

“Don’t worry,” William assured him, “I’m sure somebody will die for you tonight.”

Gabe winced, “Low blow, asshole. You make me sound like I want people to die, just so I can do my job.” He saw Patrick, “Gabe Saporta, CSI Level Two, nice to meet you.”

Patrick shook his hand, “Patrick Stump, CSI Level One.”

“Patrick’s working on the Sumner’s case,” William explained to Gabe, “We haven’t really gotten anywhere with it.”

Pete glanced at his watch. 1:30 PM. “Who wants to grab some lunch?”

Gabe, William and Patrick stared at him.

“Aren’t we supposed to be working?” Patrick asked nervously.

Pete snorted, “Ever heard of a lunch break? It’s when you stop working to get something to eat for the second meal of the day.”

“DNA results will probably come back in a few hours.” William said to Patrick, “We can get something to eat.”

“My shift’s over, guys,” Gabe yawned, “I came to work for crap. I’m going home to sleep.”

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Pete teased, starting to walk down the hall.

“Are you CSI Level Three?” Patrick asked William, following him out the building.

“Level two,” he replied grinning, “I’m not just another pretty face.”