Fic: At the Hour Of Death 9/15 (CSI, Nick/Greg, NC17)
Utility chapters are the bane of my existence. But I'm closer to finished than I was before, and that's always a good thing.
A few hours' sleep didn't make Nick feel any less ridiculous about the night before. The last thing he wanted to do was face Greg, not after almost making a total fool of himself in that motel room. So he was almost relieved when he answered his phone to find Brass on the other end of the line, calling to tell him they'd found Brett Wilson and they were holding him until Nick got to the station for the interview.
He knew he should stop by the crime lab and pick up Greg - it was their case, after all, and he should be there for the interview. But there was new evidence to process, and it wasn't like he knew anything about conducting an interview, so his time would be better spent back in the lab. That was what Nick told himself as he walked into the police station, stopping long enough to find out where Brass was before he headed toward the interview room.
The guy sitting across the table from Brass was younger than Nick expected, hands spread out in front of him and drumming restlessly against the table. He was big - that much Nick could tell just from his hands - a lot bigger than Aaron, and it was easy to see how he could do some damage. He didn't really look dangerous, though, and when Nick slid into the chair next to Brass he could see the fear written all over the kid's face.
"This is Nick Stokes," Brass said, eyes never leaving Brett's face as he gestured toward Nick. "He's with the crime lab."
"Hey," Nick said, nodding when Brett turned wide eyes on him. He reached into the envelope he'd brought with him and slid a picture out, pushing it across the table to Brett. "You recognize this man?"
Brett flinched at the crime scene photo, but he didn't look surprised to find out Aaron was dead. "That's Aaron."
"When did you last see him?"
"A few days ago," Brett answered, shrugging and looking away from the picture.
"Witnesses put you at a nightclub with Aaron the night of his death," Brass said, leaning forward and squinting at Brett.
"So we went to a club." Another shrug, and Brett looked up at Brass, jaw set in a defiant line. "That doesn't mean I killed him."
"No, but there's DNA evidence all over the motel room he was found in," Nick said, leaning forward and folding his hands in front of him on the table. "And chances are when I take a DNA sample from you it's gonna match the DNA we found all over Aaron."
"What if I refuse to give a sample?"
"That's not up to you anymore," Brass answered, smiling grimly when Brett glanced at him. "Probable cause. We know you worked at the motel, and we know you had access to the room where Aaron was killed. That gives us the right to do pretty much whatever we want."
"Look, Brett," Nick said, leaning a little further forward and smiling reassuringly, "we know you were there, and we know you and Aaron had sex. Things got a little rough, then they got a little out of hand. You're a big guy, maybe you didn't know your own strength."
"Okay," Brett interrupted, hands pressed flat against the table and Nick could see his mind racing for an explanation. "Yeah, I was there. I'm the maintenance guy at the motel during the day, I've got a master key. Sometimes we'd go there, use one of the empty rooms. Aaron got off on the danger of getting caught or something. We had sex, then he passed out. It happens every time, he says - said - the rush made it better."
"The rush."
"Yeah, from the choking, you know? Sometimes he wanted me to use my hands, but mostly it was a rope or something. He'd get lightheaded and pass out, but he always came to after awhile. After he passed out I got dressed and walked a couple blocks the 7-Eleven for a pack of smokes. When I got back..."
He paused, shuddering at the memory before he found his voice again. "It was different, you know? I figured he'd be awake again by the time I got back, but he was on the floor, and he wasn't breathing. I just got the hell out of there."
"Why didn't you call 911?"
"I freaked," Brett answered, some of the color creeping back into his cheeks at the memory. "If my boss found out I'd lose my job. Besides…I thought maybe it was my fault."
It was obvious the kid was terrified, and part of Nick almost felt sorry for him. He couldn't have been more than twenty-three, and he definitely wasn't what Nick had been expecting. For the past three days he'd had an image in his head of some kind of sadist, a psycho who got off on causing pain. Just looking at this kid was enough to tell him that Aaron had definitely been the one in charge, and it was hard to believe the kid had killed him on purpose.
"So you got back to the room and he was on the floor. Where was he when you left?"
"Passed out on the bed," Brett said, fidgeting in his seat and trying hard not to look at the picture of Aaron still lying on the table. "I didn't…I never meant to really hurt him. He said he liked it, that it was the only way he could get off."
Next to him Brass cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, the only sign he'd given since the interview started that he was less than okay with the subject matter. Nick couldn't really blame him - the thought of needing somebody to choke him just so he could get excited creeped Nick out too, but he had a feeling Brass' discomfort had to do with more than just the sex games Aaron liked to play.
"There was no rope found at the scene. Any idea what happened to it?"
"When I left it was still on the bed. I didn't stick around to look for it once I found Aaron like…" He trailed off and gestured toward the picture, eyes carefully averted.
"Okay, so you left him on the bed and you went to buy cigarettes. How long were you gone?"
"Maybe half an hour," Brett answered, shrugging and looking up at Nick almost hopefully. "I know the guy who was working - Keith something. He can tell you I was there."
"And what time did you leave the room?"
"I don't know…midnight, maybe?"
Nick nodded and picked up the picture, sliding it back into the envelope before he looked at Aaron again. "One more question. You said you were with Aaron at the club that night - witnesses saw him arguing with a girl. You know anything about that?"
"I saw them," Brett said, expression so hopeful that Nick wished he hadn't brought it up. "Why, do you think she had something to do with it?"
"Right now we just need to know her name."
"Aaron didn't say who she was," Brett answered, features falling and now Nick really felt sorry for him. "All I know is they were screaming at each other - I heard her say something about a lawyer or something, and then Aaron wanted to leave. He was pretty keyed up."
Nick nodded and stood up, reaching into his pocket for a swab. He rounded the table and stopped in front of Brett, pulling the swab open and holding it up. "Open your mouth."
Brett's mouth dropped open obediently, and Nick forced back an image he had no business picturing. He took the swab as quickly as possible and backed up, clearing his throat and glancing at Brass to signal that he was done. It was hard to believe a kid like this could be caught up in something like murder - the thing was, Nick liked him, and he believed Brett when he said he didn't do it. Only they didn't have any other suspects, and the chances were that even if it was accidental, Brett was responsible.
He waited until Brass told the uniform standing by the door to escort Brett back to his holding cell, then he turned and followed the older man out of the room. Once they were out of earshot of Brett Brass turned to look at him, eyebrows raised and Nick could tell from his expression that he was ready to arrest the kid. "Looks pretty open and shut to me. The DNA's gonna make the case, right?"
"He admits to having sex with the vic," Nick answered, frowning thoughtfully as his mind ran through the evidence again. "DNA evidence doesn't really do us any good if he admits it."
"Doesn't hurt either," Brass said, smiling grimly at Nick's expression. "So things got a little out of hand and the kid went too far. It happens. It's a hell of a reason to throw away your future, but it happens."
And he knew it was true, but that didn't help him reconcile the scared kid in the interrogation room with the body in the morgue. "That doesn't explain how the body got halfway across the room, though. Or how he got those marks on his wrists."
Brass shrugged and let out a heavy sigh, the one Nick knew meant he was satisfied with the case they'd already built. "Look, you're the scientist. If you can give me some evidence that points to somebody else, great. If not, I've gotta give the D.A. what we've got. You know we can only hold him for twenty-four hours before we arrest him or cut him loose."
Nick nodded when Brass patted him on the shoulder and headed back toward his office. He knew Brass was right - all the evidence pointed to an accident. The girl at the club could have been anyone, and the marks on Aaron's wrists could have come from his own bracelet. If he'd been wearing it when things got too rough it could have made the impressions, and unless they found something else there was no way they'd ever know what really happened.
A few hours' sleep didn't make Nick feel any less ridiculous about the night before. The last thing he wanted to do was face Greg, not after almost making a total fool of himself in that motel room. So he was almost relieved when he answered his phone to find Brass on the other end of the line, calling to tell him they'd found Brett Wilson and they were holding him until Nick got to the station for the interview.
He knew he should stop by the crime lab and pick up Greg - it was their case, after all, and he should be there for the interview. But there was new evidence to process, and it wasn't like he knew anything about conducting an interview, so his time would be better spent back in the lab. That was what Nick told himself as he walked into the police station, stopping long enough to find out where Brass was before he headed toward the interview room.
The guy sitting across the table from Brass was younger than Nick expected, hands spread out in front of him and drumming restlessly against the table. He was big - that much Nick could tell just from his hands - a lot bigger than Aaron, and it was easy to see how he could do some damage. He didn't really look dangerous, though, and when Nick slid into the chair next to Brass he could see the fear written all over the kid's face.
"This is Nick Stokes," Brass said, eyes never leaving Brett's face as he gestured toward Nick. "He's with the crime lab."
"Hey," Nick said, nodding when Brett turned wide eyes on him. He reached into the envelope he'd brought with him and slid a picture out, pushing it across the table to Brett. "You recognize this man?"
Brett flinched at the crime scene photo, but he didn't look surprised to find out Aaron was dead. "That's Aaron."
"When did you last see him?"
"A few days ago," Brett answered, shrugging and looking away from the picture.
"Witnesses put you at a nightclub with Aaron the night of his death," Brass said, leaning forward and squinting at Brett.
"So we went to a club." Another shrug, and Brett looked up at Brass, jaw set in a defiant line. "That doesn't mean I killed him."
"No, but there's DNA evidence all over the motel room he was found in," Nick said, leaning forward and folding his hands in front of him on the table. "And chances are when I take a DNA sample from you it's gonna match the DNA we found all over Aaron."
"What if I refuse to give a sample?"
"That's not up to you anymore," Brass answered, smiling grimly when Brett glanced at him. "Probable cause. We know you worked at the motel, and we know you had access to the room where Aaron was killed. That gives us the right to do pretty much whatever we want."
"Look, Brett," Nick said, leaning a little further forward and smiling reassuringly, "we know you were there, and we know you and Aaron had sex. Things got a little rough, then they got a little out of hand. You're a big guy, maybe you didn't know your own strength."
"Okay," Brett interrupted, hands pressed flat against the table and Nick could see his mind racing for an explanation. "Yeah, I was there. I'm the maintenance guy at the motel during the day, I've got a master key. Sometimes we'd go there, use one of the empty rooms. Aaron got off on the danger of getting caught or something. We had sex, then he passed out. It happens every time, he says - said - the rush made it better."
"The rush."
"Yeah, from the choking, you know? Sometimes he wanted me to use my hands, but mostly it was a rope or something. He'd get lightheaded and pass out, but he always came to after awhile. After he passed out I got dressed and walked a couple blocks the 7-Eleven for a pack of smokes. When I got back..."
He paused, shuddering at the memory before he found his voice again. "It was different, you know? I figured he'd be awake again by the time I got back, but he was on the floor, and he wasn't breathing. I just got the hell out of there."
"Why didn't you call 911?"
"I freaked," Brett answered, some of the color creeping back into his cheeks at the memory. "If my boss found out I'd lose my job. Besides…I thought maybe it was my fault."
It was obvious the kid was terrified, and part of Nick almost felt sorry for him. He couldn't have been more than twenty-three, and he definitely wasn't what Nick had been expecting. For the past three days he'd had an image in his head of some kind of sadist, a psycho who got off on causing pain. Just looking at this kid was enough to tell him that Aaron had definitely been the one in charge, and it was hard to believe the kid had killed him on purpose.
"So you got back to the room and he was on the floor. Where was he when you left?"
"Passed out on the bed," Brett said, fidgeting in his seat and trying hard not to look at the picture of Aaron still lying on the table. "I didn't…I never meant to really hurt him. He said he liked it, that it was the only way he could get off."
Next to him Brass cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, the only sign he'd given since the interview started that he was less than okay with the subject matter. Nick couldn't really blame him - the thought of needing somebody to choke him just so he could get excited creeped Nick out too, but he had a feeling Brass' discomfort had to do with more than just the sex games Aaron liked to play.
"There was no rope found at the scene. Any idea what happened to it?"
"When I left it was still on the bed. I didn't stick around to look for it once I found Aaron like…" He trailed off and gestured toward the picture, eyes carefully averted.
"Okay, so you left him on the bed and you went to buy cigarettes. How long were you gone?"
"Maybe half an hour," Brett answered, shrugging and looking up at Nick almost hopefully. "I know the guy who was working - Keith something. He can tell you I was there."
"And what time did you leave the room?"
"I don't know…midnight, maybe?"
Nick nodded and picked up the picture, sliding it back into the envelope before he looked at Aaron again. "One more question. You said you were with Aaron at the club that night - witnesses saw him arguing with a girl. You know anything about that?"
"I saw them," Brett said, expression so hopeful that Nick wished he hadn't brought it up. "Why, do you think she had something to do with it?"
"Right now we just need to know her name."
"Aaron didn't say who she was," Brett answered, features falling and now Nick really felt sorry for him. "All I know is they were screaming at each other - I heard her say something about a lawyer or something, and then Aaron wanted to leave. He was pretty keyed up."
Nick nodded and stood up, reaching into his pocket for a swab. He rounded the table and stopped in front of Brett, pulling the swab open and holding it up. "Open your mouth."
Brett's mouth dropped open obediently, and Nick forced back an image he had no business picturing. He took the swab as quickly as possible and backed up, clearing his throat and glancing at Brass to signal that he was done. It was hard to believe a kid like this could be caught up in something like murder - the thing was, Nick liked him, and he believed Brett when he said he didn't do it. Only they didn't have any other suspects, and the chances were that even if it was accidental, Brett was responsible.
He waited until Brass told the uniform standing by the door to escort Brett back to his holding cell, then he turned and followed the older man out of the room. Once they were out of earshot of Brett Brass turned to look at him, eyebrows raised and Nick could tell from his expression that he was ready to arrest the kid. "Looks pretty open and shut to me. The DNA's gonna make the case, right?"
"He admits to having sex with the vic," Nick answered, frowning thoughtfully as his mind ran through the evidence again. "DNA evidence doesn't really do us any good if he admits it."
"Doesn't hurt either," Brass said, smiling grimly at Nick's expression. "So things got a little out of hand and the kid went too far. It happens. It's a hell of a reason to throw away your future, but it happens."
And he knew it was true, but that didn't help him reconcile the scared kid in the interrogation room with the body in the morgue. "That doesn't explain how the body got halfway across the room, though. Or how he got those marks on his wrists."
Brass shrugged and let out a heavy sigh, the one Nick knew meant he was satisfied with the case they'd already built. "Look, you're the scientist. If you can give me some evidence that points to somebody else, great. If not, I've gotta give the D.A. what we've got. You know we can only hold him for twenty-four hours before we arrest him or cut him loose."
Nick nodded when Brass patted him on the shoulder and headed back toward his office. He knew Brass was right - all the evidence pointed to an accident. The girl at the club could have been anyone, and the marks on Aaron's wrists could have come from his own bracelet. If he'd been wearing it when things got too rough it could have made the impressions, and unless they found something else there was no way they'd ever know what really happened.