BOBBING FOR APPLES
For a change, it was a dark and stormy night. Lightening lit the sky, bathing the large, ornate house in an eerie after-glow. Sara ignored the effect as she ducked inside. Perching on the tiny welcome mat, she took off her baseball cap and shook the rain from the bill.
The house seemed empty until a hand extended from behind a bookcase. “Hey, Sara. I didn’t know Cath had called in her favorite off-duty CSI.” Warrick head replaced his hand as he knelt up from his spot across the large living room. “Glad she did. This place is big enough for the whole team to get lost in.”
Looking around the massive space, Sara silently agreed. If they had to check the whole house, they’d be there for a week – and that was just the first floor. “Where’s Gris?” Sara asked as she resettled the soaked cap on her head.
“Upstairs. He and Cath are doing the walkthrough.” Grimacing, Warrick held up the pair of tweezers in his hand. “I got stuck with carpet duty.”
Hoping to avoid a similar fate, Sara started up the stairs. They creaked and groaned with every step. The effect was creepy, and she found herself gripping the handle of her evidence kit tighter as she climbed. At the landing, Sara paused. The upper floor swept out in both directions, and she didn’t see any sign of Catherine or Grissom.
She listened intently. It didn’t help. The hushed atmosphere gave no hints about the direction of the rest of the crime scene. With an impatient sigh, Sara turned and leaned over the banister. “’Rick?”
“I knew it!” His voice drifted up, sounding excited. “Man, I knew it!”
Leaning farther out, Sara peered down. All she could see of Warrick was his butt and legs where they protruded from beneath a table. “Did you find something?” Maybe she wouldn’t have to hunt for Grissom after all.
“You’re staring at my ass again, aren’t you?” Warrick wiggled out from under the furniture and sat back on his heels. “I told Greg he was wrong about you looking at Cath. You got the hots for me.” His grin lit up the gloomy first floor.
“You got me,” Sara admitted solemnly. “I can’t pretend anymore.” Putting her free hand over her heart, Sara continued. “It’s you I want, Warrick. Every time Cath and I are making love, I’m really laying back and enjoying the attention as I dream it’s you.”
They burst out laughing at the same time.
“Whoo! If Cath ever heard you say that…” Warrick wiped his eyes and looked up at Sara. “What did you really want? Besides me, that is.”
“Which way?” Still grinning, Sara pointed first left then right.
Warrick pointed to Sara’s left. “I can’t wait to hear what you think,” he said cryptically. “Got a bet with Nick and Greg.”
Sara turned in the direction he’d indicated. She didn’t see anything except gloom and cobwebs. She hated cobwebs. “Thanks, ‘Rick. I’ll try not to let you down.” As she walked away, she couldn’t resist asking, “What does the loser have to do this time?”
The thick carpeting of the hallway deadened sound so his reply was faint. “Get Ecklie to dress as the devil for the lab party.”
“Please,” Sara mumbled to herself as she searched the first room for Catherine and Grissom. “That would not be a costume. Ecklie would just be himself.” She was about to continue down the hall when she saw the flicker of a flash bulb. “Cath, you in here?”
A familiar head popped around a corner. “Sara! My God, I thought you got lost. You have got to see this scene. I thought it was a joke when Gil and I first saw it.” Catherine disappeared again.
It had to be good. Catherine was never this…giddy at crime scenes. Sara strode through the large game room and stopped on the threshold of the doorway on the far wall. “Holy crap!”
That got a laugh from Catherine, and a harrumph from Grissom.
“What the hell were they doing in here?” Setting her evidence kit down, Sara carefully skirted the taped outline of a body and paced toward the huge, tiled bathtub. In the flickering candlelight, the solid black tiles sucked most of the illumination from the room.
Not all of it, though. Sara could still see the body floating in the water.
Covering her mouth with her hand, she fought to keep her chuckles on the inside. “So, Cath, are those,” Sara pointed at the dead woman’s breasts, painted candy apple red and poking out of the bubbles, “what you had in mind when you wanted to bob for apples?”