CSIMarg
Witness
No matter how long I’m on this computer each day, or when I’m on it… Please excuse me for not typing up a piece of the story, especially now that’s it kind of at a confusing part. Even though all the confusion should fully clear up, by the end of this chapter.
And no, the chapter is not over...
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“We got a receipt from a store someone went to, and I don’t think it was him that went shopping” Greg pointed into the other room with the tweezers, in the place where Mr. Malone had been found.
“What would make you think that?” Warrick inquired more ingeniously than he should have been, as he examined the contents on the table. Which held yesterday’s newspaper, a blue cup; still had coffee it, a white bib that had been folded over, which read, ‘my little boy’ and had been cast to the side of the table.
The bib itself seemed to be large enough for a toddler to fit into.
A toddler.
“Behold the smell of perfume.” Greg answered with a small smirk, as he lifted the receipt that had been found slightly wedged between the bag and a package of tuna.
“How do you know it wasn’t someone who put the food in the bag?” Nick suggested as he took hold of the paper, scanning the items upon it.
Greg shook his head in return, with a shrug as his eyes momentarily lit up. “It’s possible, but it we’re not sure we could ask Jessie” He returned his gaze to the paper, with an exceedingly intelligent look on his face.
----
“Oh but the good day has already begun” Grissom quoted, after Brass had filled them in on the rest of the information, and they had just walked into the room where the mother laid on the queen sized bed. While the father laid on the floor, on his stomach; his head facing in the direction of the wall.
Sara gazed up at Gil with much understanding—always contemplating how he could have something for everything—as his words, and unusual ways made the case complete. She arched her brow, as she got that look on her face that asked, who said it this time?
He was already pulling on some white latex gloves, and crouched down beside his own kit that was already opened. And he understood her expression immediately, as he answered simply. “My brother”
She gazed up at him as soon as she had registered his words, and came up short of a blank, surprised expression. “I didn’t know you had a brother” She informed him, as she held onto the black camera that was draped around her neck, then took a picture of the mother, while relaying the information in her own way that Brass had given them just moments ago.
Bridgett Fischer, thirty-six years old. Shoulder length brown hair, and dazzling green eyes; that were now lifeless, as they stared into a darkened abyss. While the expression on her face still presented a sense of fear and anxiety from the now present situation.
He nodded “A couple years older” He added, breaking into her thoughts. She furrowed her brows, as she got ready to take another picture, when she noticed that Bridgett was still grasping a piece of jewelry in her right hand as it sat tucked, almost hidden from view.
His words hovered within her, as she moved to the other side of the bed, and took a picture. The chain of the necklace was still in view, as well as half of whatever was connected to it. She couldn’t exactly tell.
“There’s some kind of symbol, or picture on this necklace” Sara pointed out, as she waited for him to stand up and to walk over; as he had been drawing in some observations on the father’s position—documenting pictures of evidence useful in the case—before he broke from that and observed the necklace that was still in hand.
----
Catherine broke completely from her thoughts and saw her nine-year old daughter, standing beside her. “Are you mad at me because I could save him?” Lindsey inquired abruptly as she held back her own sobs in her words, and waited for some indication, some comfort that she could place in her broken heart.
She gave a choking sob, swallowing hard to keep her composure, as she saw her daughter’s lip waver. Her heart broke to hear her ask, and at the same time it ached to hold her near her. “No, baby” She shook her head, and placed her hand upon her daughter’s cheek, as she wiped away the tear that ran down it. “I’m so proud of you for being brave” Her voice wavered, and her own tears threatened to fall. “There was nothing you could have done that would have saved him” Catherine gave her daughter a small reassuring smile, as she finally let a tear silently fall down her cheek. Lindsey stood there another moment before giving way to small-saddened smiling sob, then wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck.
“Will you tell him I miss him?” She whispered after finally calming, as she broke her embrace and met her mother’s gaze.
Catherine was amazed at how much better she felt, and the comfort that wrapped around her, as well as her daughter’s. Even the consolation of one another absorbed the astounding feel of her words, Please tell him I miss him.
Even though she had never mentioned to anyone of her intentions of going to his grave, her daughter could feel it within her, with a silent notion. Lindsey had slipped a small rose into the palm of her hand, and Catherine knew her last goodbye to him would be hard, but they had to move on.
And no, the chapter is not over...
----
“We got a receipt from a store someone went to, and I don’t think it was him that went shopping” Greg pointed into the other room with the tweezers, in the place where Mr. Malone had been found.
“What would make you think that?” Warrick inquired more ingeniously than he should have been, as he examined the contents on the table. Which held yesterday’s newspaper, a blue cup; still had coffee it, a white bib that had been folded over, which read, ‘my little boy’ and had been cast to the side of the table.
The bib itself seemed to be large enough for a toddler to fit into.
A toddler.
“Behold the smell of perfume.” Greg answered with a small smirk, as he lifted the receipt that had been found slightly wedged between the bag and a package of tuna.
“How do you know it wasn’t someone who put the food in the bag?” Nick suggested as he took hold of the paper, scanning the items upon it.
Greg shook his head in return, with a shrug as his eyes momentarily lit up. “It’s possible, but it we’re not sure we could ask Jessie” He returned his gaze to the paper, with an exceedingly intelligent look on his face.
----
“Oh but the good day has already begun” Grissom quoted, after Brass had filled them in on the rest of the information, and they had just walked into the room where the mother laid on the queen sized bed. While the father laid on the floor, on his stomach; his head facing in the direction of the wall.
Sara gazed up at Gil with much understanding—always contemplating how he could have something for everything—as his words, and unusual ways made the case complete. She arched her brow, as she got that look on her face that asked, who said it this time?
He was already pulling on some white latex gloves, and crouched down beside his own kit that was already opened. And he understood her expression immediately, as he answered simply. “My brother”
She gazed up at him as soon as she had registered his words, and came up short of a blank, surprised expression. “I didn’t know you had a brother” She informed him, as she held onto the black camera that was draped around her neck, then took a picture of the mother, while relaying the information in her own way that Brass had given them just moments ago.
Bridgett Fischer, thirty-six years old. Shoulder length brown hair, and dazzling green eyes; that were now lifeless, as they stared into a darkened abyss. While the expression on her face still presented a sense of fear and anxiety from the now present situation.
He nodded “A couple years older” He added, breaking into her thoughts. She furrowed her brows, as she got ready to take another picture, when she noticed that Bridgett was still grasping a piece of jewelry in her right hand as it sat tucked, almost hidden from view.
His words hovered within her, as she moved to the other side of the bed, and took a picture. The chain of the necklace was still in view, as well as half of whatever was connected to it. She couldn’t exactly tell.
“There’s some kind of symbol, or picture on this necklace” Sara pointed out, as she waited for him to stand up and to walk over; as he had been drawing in some observations on the father’s position—documenting pictures of evidence useful in the case—before he broke from that and observed the necklace that was still in hand.
----
Catherine broke completely from her thoughts and saw her nine-year old daughter, standing beside her. “Are you mad at me because I could save him?” Lindsey inquired abruptly as she held back her own sobs in her words, and waited for some indication, some comfort that she could place in her broken heart.
She gave a choking sob, swallowing hard to keep her composure, as she saw her daughter’s lip waver. Her heart broke to hear her ask, and at the same time it ached to hold her near her. “No, baby” She shook her head, and placed her hand upon her daughter’s cheek, as she wiped away the tear that ran down it. “I’m so proud of you for being brave” Her voice wavered, and her own tears threatened to fall. “There was nothing you could have done that would have saved him” Catherine gave her daughter a small reassuring smile, as she finally let a tear silently fall down her cheek. Lindsey stood there another moment before giving way to small-saddened smiling sob, then wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck.
“Will you tell him I miss him?” She whispered after finally calming, as she broke her embrace and met her mother’s gaze.
Catherine was amazed at how much better she felt, and the comfort that wrapped around her, as well as her daughter’s. Even the consolation of one another absorbed the astounding feel of her words, Please tell him I miss him.
Even though she had never mentioned to anyone of her intentions of going to his grave, her daughter could feel it within her, with a silent notion. Lindsey had slipped a small rose into the palm of her hand, and Catherine knew her last goodbye to him would be hard, but they had to move on.
