Fic: A Thousand Words (4/?)
Title: A Thousand Words
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Nick/?
Characters: Nick Stokes, Warrick Brown, Gil Grissom, Catherine Willows, OMC
Warnings: Eventually will be slash
Spoilers: None
A/N: This is an AU. In this story, Greg Sanders is not a CSI nor was he ever a DNA technician. He does not exist……or does he?
Previous chapters can be found here
Nick felt like he had fallen asleep in one universe and woke up in another. Eric Sanders was standing over him threatening him with a baseball bat. This would be the Eric Sanders whose murder Nick had been working for the last two weeks. The man standing over him sure looked alive and if the expression on his face was any clue, he was more likely to commit murder than to BE murdered. He kept yelling questions at Nick but let’s face it; between the booze and the sexual fantasies, it was not Nick’s finest hour. He tried to answer the irate man but he didn’t give him a chance. It didn’t help that he had been caught with nude drawings all over the couch next to him and his own right hand quite obviously down his sweat pants.
He finally got himself together enough to try to explain to the man…to Eric if that’s who he really was that he was a member of the Las Vegas Crime Lab and he had a legitimate reason for being in the house. He didn’t even try to explain the drawings or the bourbon; some things just sort of speak for themselves. He realized that Eric was demanding his ID. He started to reach in his pocket then he remembered, his wallet was upstairs in his room. Oh this is just great; I’m drinking his whiskey, jacking off to his picture and just generally acting like a real…what was it he called him…oh yeah PERVERT!
He tried to tell him that he didn’t have his wallet on him but even he realized how lame that sounded. He had just started to try to explain when a voice outside the room called his name. Charles came into the room looking for Nick. He had heard yelling downstairs and he didn’t know if one of Nick’s co-workers had showed up or if Nick was having a dream. He never expected to see his employer, his murdered employer whom he had buried just six days before standing there with a baseball bat ready to brain his new friend. He stopped dead trying to understand what he was seeing. He couldn’t wrap his brain around it and he suddenly felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest. He grabbed his upper chest and groaned. The pain hit again and he blacked out. Just before he completely passed out he saw both men reach for him and then there was nothing.
Somehow both Nick and Eric managed to catch Charles at the same time so he didn’t hit the floor. They gently lowered him to the soft carpet. Nick grabbed a cushion off the couch and put it under his head. He grabbed one of the napkins lying on the table beside the ice bucket and dipped it into the melting cubes. He began to bathe Charles forehead and cheeks with the cold water. Eric stood up and ran over to the desk. He jerked open one of the side drawers and started pawing through the contents. He grabbed something and came back again on a dead run. He dropped to his knees beside the sweet, old gentlemen he loved so dearly. He opened the bottle and took two of the small tablets and opening Charles mouth, he carefully placed them under his tongue.
Nick was still bathing his face and rubbing his hands. He looked up at Eric and said, “I take it that’s nitro-glycerin. How bad is his heart?”
Eric’s voice was a little shaky, “Its angina and it’s not that bad when he takes his medicine and takes care of himself. He’s not supposed to exert himself and no sudden shocks. I guess this qualifies as a major shock. What the hell has been going on around here? I’m willing to admit you didn’t break in here. It was pretty obvious that Charles knew you but why are you drinking my bourbon and sleeping on my couch and most of all…..why are you jacking off to my pictures?”
Nick was truly saved by the bell when Charles let out a small moan and began to move a little. Nick put his hand on his chest and said in a low soft voice, “Charles, take it easy. Don’t panic again. Just lay here for a minute and let your pills work. Everyone needs to do some explaining and I think it would be better for all of us if we do it at the same time. Are you feeling a little better now?”
“Physically yes, but I don’t think I’ve ever been so confused in all my life. I swear I saw…” Charles slowly turned his head towards his left side. He shut his eyes and let out another soft moan. Both men started stroking his arms and talking to him gently. Eric was telling him it was really him and he needed him to calm down and help him figure out what was happening. Nick was just telling him to breathe slow and easy and let his pills work to slow his racing, erratic heart. Finally, he began to take deep breaths and a little color came back into his face. He opened his eyes and looked up at Eric. Nick felt so bad for him when he saw the tears filling his eyes and slowly slipping down his cheeks.
He carefully raised a hand towards Eric. His hand was shaking so badly he almost started to put it back down but Eric grabbed his hand and pulled against his cheek. He had a few tears of his own to shed. “Yes you old coot; it’s me, it’s really me and I’m glad to see you too. Can we get you up off the floor and into a chair now?”
Charles just looked at his formerly dead, dead and murdered employer. He ran his thumb over Eric’s cheek, gently stroking over his beauty spots. “It really is you isn’t it? I’m not dreaming this time. You’re here, in our home right? This is real. Nicky, please tell me it’s real.”
Nicky smiled at the older man realizing for the first time how much he had come to mean to him and said, “Well, if you mean the portrait has come to life and was threatening me with a baseball bat…Yeah that’s pretty much real. As for the rest, I’m just as confused as you are. Come on; let us get you up off this floor and settled in a chair and then we can trade stories. Okay?”
They slowly got the rattled man up and got him settled in one of the comfortable club chairs next to the fire. Nick pulled a stool over and lifted his feet onto the stool and then grabbed a throw off the back of the couch and gently spread it over his lap, legs and feet. He started to grab the bourbon decanter to pour him a glass but Charles shook his head. “I’d rather have my…”
“You’d rather have your brandy wouldn’t you, you spoiled old man.” Eric’s smile made it plain that his words were just a joke between the two of them. “I’ll go get it for you.” He straightened up from where he had been squatting beside the chair and started to leave the room but Charles stopped him.
“Eric, it’s in the kitchen; in the butler’s pantry.”
“What’s it doing there? That fancy bottle of Hennessy moved into this house before we did.”
Charles turned red and looked to Nick for help which he would have gladly given but he had no idea what they were talking about. He shrugged his shoulders to show his confusion and Charles said slowly, “The den is the, um, well, it’s the crime scene. I did not want my Ellipse to remain in that horrible environment.”
Eric looked at him and slowly shook his head. Without another word he left the room and returned with an object that Nick had never seen the likes of before. “What the hell is that?” he asked.
Eric smiled as he sat the magnificently carved wooden stand on the desk. He carefully manipulated some sort of bar and then removed a glass bottle that looked as though it had been carved out of one huge diamond. It was filled with some sort of beautiful amber liquid. Eric grabbed one of the highball glasses and started to pour some of the liquid into the glass when a startled gasp from Charles stopped him dead.
“Oh my Dear God Above, tell me you are not going to put that elixir of the gods in a common highball glass?” he gasped. His hand went to his chest and Nick really thought he was going to have another attack.
Eric glared at him for a second, then he put the highball glass back down on the bar, left the room again and returned this time with a glass with a full bubble bottom that even Nick recognized as a brandy snifter. “Damn, sometimes I rue the day I ever bought you that expensive crap in the first place. It’s like a god-damned ritual just trying to pour you a drink.” He carefully poured the liquid gold down the side of the snifter, swirled it a few times and then handed it to Charles.
“What the heck is that stuff anyway?” Nick asked.
“It’s Hennessy’s Ellipse; the most expensive brandy on the planet. You can only buy it at Harrod’s in London and it comes in that case which is called a bespoke decanter. It was designed and created by Thomas Bastide the head designer for Cristaileries Baccarat and I, god help me, bought a bottle for Charles when my first CD went platinum and now you would think I was offering him swill if I suggest he drink any thing else.”
Charles was still warming the brandy between his palms and he totally ignored Eric as he finally lifted the decanter and took a mouthful. He held it in his mouth for a moment and then slowly swallowed. Eric poked Nick in the ribs and said, “Looks like he’s having an orgasm doesn’t he?”
Nick couldn’t help himself; he let out a little chuckle and then he just collapsed in a healthy belly laugh. Charles really did look like he was in the throes of a full fledged sexual climax...well Nick was pretty sure that’s what it looked like. It had been a while for him.
After Charles had enjoyed his brandy totally ignoring the two men who were almost rolling on the floor; they all got serious and Eric told them his story.
* * * * * * * * * *
Several hours later, they had the house ready and their stories. The drawings were back in the leather portfolio and hid away, Nick was back in his street clothes and his car, which had been in one of the stalls in the garage, was parked out front in the driveway. They left the brandy out and Eric’s glass of bourbon, but they washed the glass Nick had been using and carefully polished it and the bourbon decanter. After Nick had rubbed every centimeter of the decanter, he had Eric pick it up and pour himself another small glass; then he told him to reach around and press his fingers on the bottle again. He wanted it to look as though he had poured himself two drinks and handled the bottle differently each time.
When they had everything ready, Nick used his cell to call Warrick. For once, luck was on his side and he caught him in the break room between cases. He told him he needed him to come to the Sander’s crime scene immediately and he told him to get hold of Brass and bring him with him. When Warrick started huffing and asking questions, Nick stopped him and said, “Rick, if you have ever trusted me in your life, please do it now. I need you and Brass here like 30 minutes ago and I don’t want anyone to know the two of you are coming. Please?”
There was a moment of silence and then Warrick said, “Put a candle in the window Bro, I’m on my way.”
Thirty-eight minutes later his Denali pulled into the driveway and parked behind Nick’s big truck. Jim Brass pulled up as Warrick was getting out of his car. They both headed up the stairs together. Nick was waiting for them at the top of the stairs and just held his hand up when they both started asking him questions at the same time.
“Hold your horse’s guys. I’ve got one for the books for you.” He led them down the hallway to the small sitting room, opened the door and motioned them inside. They walked through the door and Nick knew the moment they laid eyes on Eric because Rick let out a “What the hell; no way, no way.”
Jim just reached for his gun and said, “I really want to shoot someone right now. I’m just not sure who.”
Nick walked in behind them and said, “Jim, Warrick, This is Eric Sanders…you know, the guy we buried six days ago.”
* * * * * * * * * *
It took a while for everyone to calm down and for the first time, as long as Nick had known and worked for Jim, he saw Captain Jim Brass drink on the job. He had a cup of coffee with a splash of bourbon. Rick stayed with plain coffee because he said when he started drinking; he was going to be doing it for a while.
Brass took a deep breath and said, “Okay Mr. Sanders; tell us how you managed this return from the dead.”
Eric told them about the pressures of his life; the groupies which were fun at first but then he realized they weren’t interested in him, Eric Sanders. They just wanted to be with a celebrity and he didn’t matter at all. He told them about the ‘yes’ men and the agents and the hanger’s on who all wanted a piece of him. He told them about the constant law suits from people who claimed he stole their songs or their music or the women who claimed he promised them marriage. He told them about the paparazzi who hounded him until he felt like a hunted animal. He said he was becoming more and more frantic and then one night, he had been watching a show on CSI:Miami about this rich dude who hired a body double. The double would take his place at charity and social events that bored him silly and leave him free to do what he really wanted to do.
“I got to thinking about how great it would be to have someone go to the parties and charity events and front for me so I could concentrate on my music and the actual performance. And then, I got what I thought was the idea of the century. Charles, you remember right after I released the first CD and the DJ’s started playing ‘Just Another Pretty Face?’ One of the local TV stations got the idea to hold an ‘Eric Sanders Look-a-Like’ contest. Remember the kid who won?”
Charles picked up his clue so perfectly even Nick forgot for a moment they had carefully rehearsed this whole speech. “Yes, yes I do. The resemblance really was remarkable. He didn’t have the scattering of moles on his cheek like yours but he did have one just under his cheekbone. He deserved to win the contest although I do seem to remember one of the other contestants was a little disgruntled.”
Eric looked at Brass and said, “I know you probably think I’m nuts but God there were so many times when all I wanted was to be invisible. I know I ought to be on my knees thanking God for all I’ve got but man this all comes with a loss of privacy and humanity that you just can’t imagine. All I could think about was the chance to be just a guy again; just a guy who likes to play music and jam with his buddies. Right after it started, we had fun; me and Charles. We were able to move out of that rat trap over on Lake Mead Blvd. into a nice 2 bedroom place in a safe part of town. When we washed the dishes we didn’t have to check for roaches before we put the dishes in the cupboard. We had enough money to buy real food. God we had everything we needed and once in a while, we had stuff we wanted and I could go shopping or prowl through a 2nd hand store without worrying about being recognized and jumped.”
Brass had been silent about as long as he could stand it. “So you’re telling me, you decided to hire someone to play you so you could go look for a cheap paperback? What the hell kind of people are you?”
“Captain Brass, one time Eric and I went to a concert in the park over at UNLV. It was a small jazz group that Eric had played with before he got to be so popular. We were really looking forward to a pleasant evening listening to some good music and then catching up with some old friends. Some one recognized Eric. We were mobbed, the police had to be called, the concert was cancelled and Eric and I wound up in the ER. He had been clawed and pinched; locks of his hair had been pulled out so violently that he was bleeding. He was almost naked because they had ripped his clothes off. I tried to protect him but I was knocked to the ground and kicked and stomped by the hordes of ‘fans’ trying to get to him. I had a bruised kidney, two broken ribs and a crushed testicle. I had to have it removed eventually.”
Charles looked Brass right in the eyes. “I don’t care what you think about us or for Eric for doing this. If you’ve never been stomped by a mob or had your hair torn out of your scalp by the roots, don’t you dare judge us? Do you hear me? Don’t you dare!”
Brass actually had the decency to lower his eyes and moderate his tone.
“You have a point. I’ve never been in that situation so I’ll keep my mouth shut. You go ahead with your story.”
Eric sighed and Nick relaxed. That whole thing had not been part of the story they had decided to tell. It had all just poured out of the two men and Nick was deeply moved by what they had gone through. He’d had just a small taste of what they were talking about after his ordeal at the hands of Walter Gordon. The media had almost gone crazy trying to get pictures of the “CSI who’d been buried alive”. He’d had to have his phone number changed and some of his uniform friends had spent their off duty hours protecting him and keeping the vultures off his property.
“I called the guy; his name was Terry Whalen. He just went ballistic when he realized it really was me. It took me forever to get him calm enough to talk to me and then to get him to agree to meet me someplace private where we could talk. We met at a little park over by Desert Pines High School. You know the one over on Harris Avenue. The park is real nice and it’s clean and usually deserted at night. I told him to be there at 8:30 pm and I showed up at 9.00 pm after I had a chance to look the place over and make sure he hadn’t decided to sell me out to some low-life scumbag with a camera.
He was alone and was so excited he could hardly talk to me or even look at me. I told him what I wanted and asked him if he would be my body double. He didn’t believe me at first but the more we talked, the more excited we both got. He did sound a little like me and the more I looked at him, the more I thought we might get away with it.”
“He really got excited when I told him I’d been getting some nibbles from Hollywood and if things panned out, I would need a stand-in and of course, my body double would be my first choice for my stand-in. I didn’t bullshit him. I told him it could be dangerous. I told him about the mob and the concert. He knew all about that. He said he’d stood guard outside the hospital for hours until he heard I was okay.”
“We agreed on money. I told him I would pay for medical, dental and vision. I asked him if he would be willing to have some plastic surgery to make him look even more like me and he almost wet his pants.”
Eric turned to Charles and said, “You remember when we went out to California four months ago? We went first class and so did Terry. He was on the plane that left right after ours. I put him up at Beverly Hilton in one of their cottage units. When you thought I went to the studio for a look at the recording facilities, I actually picked Terry up and took him to a plastic surgeon. I told them exactly what I wanted and paid for it in cash. Then I made arrangements for him to be picked up and taken to the Doctor’s office for the surgery and also for round the clock nursing care while he recuperated. We came back 5 days later and he returned the following week. I was stunned when I saw him. Even with the swelling and bruises; god he looked so much like me, it was like looking in a mirror. These two weeks were his audition so to speak. I figured if he could fool you for two weeks, he could fool anyone.”
“I set you up Charles and I’m so sorry but I just wanted to feel like a human again so bad. I told you I was going to be working on my new CD and you’ve been through that with me before so you knew not to bother me except for occasional meals and helping me sneak out for a long car ride sometimes. He was supposed to call me if there was any problem at all with you or anyone else. I never heard from him so I thought everything was going great. I was so excited; I spent the two weeks buying a cabin up in the mountains and getting it furnished so I could use it as a get-a-way and music studio.”
“Today was the end of my two weeks. I was really anxious to get home and find out how things went and God I missed you Charles. I pulled into the driveway and into the far stall in the garage. I took my time to unload all my stuff and I stopped by the laundry room to unload my dirty stuff. I didn’t realize how much time I’d taken until I walked into my own house and Charles met me in my hall with a gun. I could not figure out what the hell could have gone so wrong; especially when Charles took one look at me, grabbed his chest and collapsed in the hall. I was trying to get his pills in his mouth when this guy came running through the front door with a gun in his hand. Jesus what’s with all you people and your guns. When we were sure that we didn’t need to take Charles to the hospital, he suffers from angina, I demanded an explanation.”
Brass turned to Nick and said, “Yeah Nick, I wouldn’t mind an explanation myself. Why did he call you and how did you get here so fast and what the hell is going on?”
Now it was Nick’s turn and he knew he was a terrible liar but he had to pull this off if he wanted to keep on working at a job he loved with people he loved. Nick did not like lying to Jim and Warrick, but he could not explain his fascination with their dead victim. He knew they would not understand his relationship with Charles and he sure as hell did not want them to know about all the time he’d spent at the mansion in the last two weeks.
He took a deep breath and mentally nudged himself into lying mode. “Tonight was my night off. I’d intended to see the new Nicholas Cage movie but I was so damn tired, I slept a lot longer than I meant to. I didn’t set an alarm and it was way past midnight when I finally got my sleep out. I checked the theater and thank heavens we live in Las Vegas because they had a showing at 1:45 am. I dressed, ate and took off to see the show. As I was leaving the theater, my cell phone went off. It was Charles and I could hardly hear him. He was talking real low and I finally figured out he was telling me that someone had broken in the garage. He said he couldn’t sleep and he heard the door to the garage open and then close. He went down stairs and made sure the door into the house was locked and then called me. I told him to go back to his bedroom and lock the door. Obviously he didn’t do it or he wouldn’t have been waiting in the hall with a gun.”
“I know I should have called you right away but I was just 15 minutes away and I wasn’t sure but what he had imagined the door opening. Charles has been having a real hard time since Eric died. He trusted me because I went to the funeral with him and listened to his ideas about Scott Henderson. I didn’t make him feel like a senile old fool because he hadn’t remembered the incident over the painting until the funeral.”
“When I got here, I pulled up to the front door and started up the stairs. I heard loud voices and then someone yelled ‘Charles’. I pulled my gun and got in the house as quick as I could. The rest of it you know except I damn near let Charles die because I was so stunned when I saw my ‘body’ bending over him, I never would have been able to find his pills and get them into him.”
It was a simple story and he could pretty much confirm all of it. He had seen the movie so he could describe the plot and Warrick knew he never saved his ticket stubs so that would not be a problem.
Jim looked thoughtful and then said slowly, “Okay; that makes sense and Yeah I guess I would have been pretty pissed if you’d called me and ordered out the troops for someone’s bad dream. But Nick, if you ever do this to me again, I’ll write you up. I swear; do you understand?”
“Yeah, Jim I do and I can’t promise I won’t do the same thing again but I hope to god we never have another case like this.” He turned to Warrick and said, “Rick? Are we okay or are you mad at me too?”
Rick looked at Nick and said, ‘You’re damn right I’m mad at you. I swear to God you go out of your way to get yourself in trouble. I’m beginning to think that trying to have your back is a 24/7 job. BUT, I know how you are. You just got to get on that white horse and gallop in when you think someone’s in trouble.” He turned to Jim and said, “I guess we need to get Mr. Sanders down to the station and take a formal statement.”
Jim stood up and said, “Yeah, we have just enough time before the end of shift to get the paperwork started.”
Nick stood up and said, “Hey guys, let’s not get in a rush here.”
“What are you talking about Nick? You know the drill.”
“Jim, Rick…this guy was murdered two weeks ago. Whoever did it is still out there. Right now, he thinks he’s home free. If we start parading the very dead Eric Sanders through the police station, we’re putting a target on his back not to mention throwing away a great chance to maybe catch our killer. Think about it.”
Jim and Warrick looked at each other and then Nick and then Eric Sanders. Jim turned away in confusion and Warrick dropped his head in his hands. Both men said, “Shit.”
That about covered it.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Nick/?
Characters: Nick Stokes, Warrick Brown, Gil Grissom, Catherine Willows, OMC
Warnings: Eventually will be slash
Spoilers: None
A/N: This is an AU. In this story, Greg Sanders is not a CSI nor was he ever a DNA technician. He does not exist……or does he?
Previous chapters can be found here
Nick felt like he had fallen asleep in one universe and woke up in another. Eric Sanders was standing over him threatening him with a baseball bat. This would be the Eric Sanders whose murder Nick had been working for the last two weeks. The man standing over him sure looked alive and if the expression on his face was any clue, he was more likely to commit murder than to BE murdered. He kept yelling questions at Nick but let’s face it; between the booze and the sexual fantasies, it was not Nick’s finest hour. He tried to answer the irate man but he didn’t give him a chance. It didn’t help that he had been caught with nude drawings all over the couch next to him and his own right hand quite obviously down his sweat pants.
He finally got himself together enough to try to explain to the man…to Eric if that’s who he really was that he was a member of the Las Vegas Crime Lab and he had a legitimate reason for being in the house. He didn’t even try to explain the drawings or the bourbon; some things just sort of speak for themselves. He realized that Eric was demanding his ID. He started to reach in his pocket then he remembered, his wallet was upstairs in his room. Oh this is just great; I’m drinking his whiskey, jacking off to his picture and just generally acting like a real…what was it he called him…oh yeah PERVERT!
He tried to tell him that he didn’t have his wallet on him but even he realized how lame that sounded. He had just started to try to explain when a voice outside the room called his name. Charles came into the room looking for Nick. He had heard yelling downstairs and he didn’t know if one of Nick’s co-workers had showed up or if Nick was having a dream. He never expected to see his employer, his murdered employer whom he had buried just six days before standing there with a baseball bat ready to brain his new friend. He stopped dead trying to understand what he was seeing. He couldn’t wrap his brain around it and he suddenly felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest. He grabbed his upper chest and groaned. The pain hit again and he blacked out. Just before he completely passed out he saw both men reach for him and then there was nothing.
Somehow both Nick and Eric managed to catch Charles at the same time so he didn’t hit the floor. They gently lowered him to the soft carpet. Nick grabbed a cushion off the couch and put it under his head. He grabbed one of the napkins lying on the table beside the ice bucket and dipped it into the melting cubes. He began to bathe Charles forehead and cheeks with the cold water. Eric stood up and ran over to the desk. He jerked open one of the side drawers and started pawing through the contents. He grabbed something and came back again on a dead run. He dropped to his knees beside the sweet, old gentlemen he loved so dearly. He opened the bottle and took two of the small tablets and opening Charles mouth, he carefully placed them under his tongue.
Nick was still bathing his face and rubbing his hands. He looked up at Eric and said, “I take it that’s nitro-glycerin. How bad is his heart?”
Eric’s voice was a little shaky, “Its angina and it’s not that bad when he takes his medicine and takes care of himself. He’s not supposed to exert himself and no sudden shocks. I guess this qualifies as a major shock. What the hell has been going on around here? I’m willing to admit you didn’t break in here. It was pretty obvious that Charles knew you but why are you drinking my bourbon and sleeping on my couch and most of all…..why are you jacking off to my pictures?”
Nick was truly saved by the bell when Charles let out a small moan and began to move a little. Nick put his hand on his chest and said in a low soft voice, “Charles, take it easy. Don’t panic again. Just lay here for a minute and let your pills work. Everyone needs to do some explaining and I think it would be better for all of us if we do it at the same time. Are you feeling a little better now?”
“Physically yes, but I don’t think I’ve ever been so confused in all my life. I swear I saw…” Charles slowly turned his head towards his left side. He shut his eyes and let out another soft moan. Both men started stroking his arms and talking to him gently. Eric was telling him it was really him and he needed him to calm down and help him figure out what was happening. Nick was just telling him to breathe slow and easy and let his pills work to slow his racing, erratic heart. Finally, he began to take deep breaths and a little color came back into his face. He opened his eyes and looked up at Eric. Nick felt so bad for him when he saw the tears filling his eyes and slowly slipping down his cheeks.
He carefully raised a hand towards Eric. His hand was shaking so badly he almost started to put it back down but Eric grabbed his hand and pulled against his cheek. He had a few tears of his own to shed. “Yes you old coot; it’s me, it’s really me and I’m glad to see you too. Can we get you up off the floor and into a chair now?”
Charles just looked at his formerly dead, dead and murdered employer. He ran his thumb over Eric’s cheek, gently stroking over his beauty spots. “It really is you isn’t it? I’m not dreaming this time. You’re here, in our home right? This is real. Nicky, please tell me it’s real.”
Nicky smiled at the older man realizing for the first time how much he had come to mean to him and said, “Well, if you mean the portrait has come to life and was threatening me with a baseball bat…Yeah that’s pretty much real. As for the rest, I’m just as confused as you are. Come on; let us get you up off this floor and settled in a chair and then we can trade stories. Okay?”
They slowly got the rattled man up and got him settled in one of the comfortable club chairs next to the fire. Nick pulled a stool over and lifted his feet onto the stool and then grabbed a throw off the back of the couch and gently spread it over his lap, legs and feet. He started to grab the bourbon decanter to pour him a glass but Charles shook his head. “I’d rather have my…”
“You’d rather have your brandy wouldn’t you, you spoiled old man.” Eric’s smile made it plain that his words were just a joke between the two of them. “I’ll go get it for you.” He straightened up from where he had been squatting beside the chair and started to leave the room but Charles stopped him.
“Eric, it’s in the kitchen; in the butler’s pantry.”
“What’s it doing there? That fancy bottle of Hennessy moved into this house before we did.”
Charles turned red and looked to Nick for help which he would have gladly given but he had no idea what they were talking about. He shrugged his shoulders to show his confusion and Charles said slowly, “The den is the, um, well, it’s the crime scene. I did not want my Ellipse to remain in that horrible environment.”
Eric looked at him and slowly shook his head. Without another word he left the room and returned with an object that Nick had never seen the likes of before. “What the hell is that?” he asked.
Eric smiled as he sat the magnificently carved wooden stand on the desk. He carefully manipulated some sort of bar and then removed a glass bottle that looked as though it had been carved out of one huge diamond. It was filled with some sort of beautiful amber liquid. Eric grabbed one of the highball glasses and started to pour some of the liquid into the glass when a startled gasp from Charles stopped him dead.
“Oh my Dear God Above, tell me you are not going to put that elixir of the gods in a common highball glass?” he gasped. His hand went to his chest and Nick really thought he was going to have another attack.
Eric glared at him for a second, then he put the highball glass back down on the bar, left the room again and returned this time with a glass with a full bubble bottom that even Nick recognized as a brandy snifter. “Damn, sometimes I rue the day I ever bought you that expensive crap in the first place. It’s like a god-damned ritual just trying to pour you a drink.” He carefully poured the liquid gold down the side of the snifter, swirled it a few times and then handed it to Charles.
“What the heck is that stuff anyway?” Nick asked.
“It’s Hennessy’s Ellipse; the most expensive brandy on the planet. You can only buy it at Harrod’s in London and it comes in that case which is called a bespoke decanter. It was designed and created by Thomas Bastide the head designer for Cristaileries Baccarat and I, god help me, bought a bottle for Charles when my first CD went platinum and now you would think I was offering him swill if I suggest he drink any thing else.”
Charles was still warming the brandy between his palms and he totally ignored Eric as he finally lifted the decanter and took a mouthful. He held it in his mouth for a moment and then slowly swallowed. Eric poked Nick in the ribs and said, “Looks like he’s having an orgasm doesn’t he?”
Nick couldn’t help himself; he let out a little chuckle and then he just collapsed in a healthy belly laugh. Charles really did look like he was in the throes of a full fledged sexual climax...well Nick was pretty sure that’s what it looked like. It had been a while for him.
After Charles had enjoyed his brandy totally ignoring the two men who were almost rolling on the floor; they all got serious and Eric told them his story.
* * * * * * * * * *
Several hours later, they had the house ready and their stories. The drawings were back in the leather portfolio and hid away, Nick was back in his street clothes and his car, which had been in one of the stalls in the garage, was parked out front in the driveway. They left the brandy out and Eric’s glass of bourbon, but they washed the glass Nick had been using and carefully polished it and the bourbon decanter. After Nick had rubbed every centimeter of the decanter, he had Eric pick it up and pour himself another small glass; then he told him to reach around and press his fingers on the bottle again. He wanted it to look as though he had poured himself two drinks and handled the bottle differently each time.
When they had everything ready, Nick used his cell to call Warrick. For once, luck was on his side and he caught him in the break room between cases. He told him he needed him to come to the Sander’s crime scene immediately and he told him to get hold of Brass and bring him with him. When Warrick started huffing and asking questions, Nick stopped him and said, “Rick, if you have ever trusted me in your life, please do it now. I need you and Brass here like 30 minutes ago and I don’t want anyone to know the two of you are coming. Please?”
There was a moment of silence and then Warrick said, “Put a candle in the window Bro, I’m on my way.”
Thirty-eight minutes later his Denali pulled into the driveway and parked behind Nick’s big truck. Jim Brass pulled up as Warrick was getting out of his car. They both headed up the stairs together. Nick was waiting for them at the top of the stairs and just held his hand up when they both started asking him questions at the same time.
“Hold your horse’s guys. I’ve got one for the books for you.” He led them down the hallway to the small sitting room, opened the door and motioned them inside. They walked through the door and Nick knew the moment they laid eyes on Eric because Rick let out a “What the hell; no way, no way.”
Jim just reached for his gun and said, “I really want to shoot someone right now. I’m just not sure who.”
Nick walked in behind them and said, “Jim, Warrick, This is Eric Sanders…you know, the guy we buried six days ago.”
* * * * * * * * * *
It took a while for everyone to calm down and for the first time, as long as Nick had known and worked for Jim, he saw Captain Jim Brass drink on the job. He had a cup of coffee with a splash of bourbon. Rick stayed with plain coffee because he said when he started drinking; he was going to be doing it for a while.
Brass took a deep breath and said, “Okay Mr. Sanders; tell us how you managed this return from the dead.”
Eric told them about the pressures of his life; the groupies which were fun at first but then he realized they weren’t interested in him, Eric Sanders. They just wanted to be with a celebrity and he didn’t matter at all. He told them about the ‘yes’ men and the agents and the hanger’s on who all wanted a piece of him. He told them about the constant law suits from people who claimed he stole their songs or their music or the women who claimed he promised them marriage. He told them about the paparazzi who hounded him until he felt like a hunted animal. He said he was becoming more and more frantic and then one night, he had been watching a show on CSI:Miami about this rich dude who hired a body double. The double would take his place at charity and social events that bored him silly and leave him free to do what he really wanted to do.
“I got to thinking about how great it would be to have someone go to the parties and charity events and front for me so I could concentrate on my music and the actual performance. And then, I got what I thought was the idea of the century. Charles, you remember right after I released the first CD and the DJ’s started playing ‘Just Another Pretty Face?’ One of the local TV stations got the idea to hold an ‘Eric Sanders Look-a-Like’ contest. Remember the kid who won?”
Charles picked up his clue so perfectly even Nick forgot for a moment they had carefully rehearsed this whole speech. “Yes, yes I do. The resemblance really was remarkable. He didn’t have the scattering of moles on his cheek like yours but he did have one just under his cheekbone. He deserved to win the contest although I do seem to remember one of the other contestants was a little disgruntled.”
Eric looked at Brass and said, “I know you probably think I’m nuts but God there were so many times when all I wanted was to be invisible. I know I ought to be on my knees thanking God for all I’ve got but man this all comes with a loss of privacy and humanity that you just can’t imagine. All I could think about was the chance to be just a guy again; just a guy who likes to play music and jam with his buddies. Right after it started, we had fun; me and Charles. We were able to move out of that rat trap over on Lake Mead Blvd. into a nice 2 bedroom place in a safe part of town. When we washed the dishes we didn’t have to check for roaches before we put the dishes in the cupboard. We had enough money to buy real food. God we had everything we needed and once in a while, we had stuff we wanted and I could go shopping or prowl through a 2nd hand store without worrying about being recognized and jumped.”
Brass had been silent about as long as he could stand it. “So you’re telling me, you decided to hire someone to play you so you could go look for a cheap paperback? What the hell kind of people are you?”
“Captain Brass, one time Eric and I went to a concert in the park over at UNLV. It was a small jazz group that Eric had played with before he got to be so popular. We were really looking forward to a pleasant evening listening to some good music and then catching up with some old friends. Some one recognized Eric. We were mobbed, the police had to be called, the concert was cancelled and Eric and I wound up in the ER. He had been clawed and pinched; locks of his hair had been pulled out so violently that he was bleeding. He was almost naked because they had ripped his clothes off. I tried to protect him but I was knocked to the ground and kicked and stomped by the hordes of ‘fans’ trying to get to him. I had a bruised kidney, two broken ribs and a crushed testicle. I had to have it removed eventually.”
Charles looked Brass right in the eyes. “I don’t care what you think about us or for Eric for doing this. If you’ve never been stomped by a mob or had your hair torn out of your scalp by the roots, don’t you dare judge us? Do you hear me? Don’t you dare!”
Brass actually had the decency to lower his eyes and moderate his tone.
“You have a point. I’ve never been in that situation so I’ll keep my mouth shut. You go ahead with your story.”
Eric sighed and Nick relaxed. That whole thing had not been part of the story they had decided to tell. It had all just poured out of the two men and Nick was deeply moved by what they had gone through. He’d had just a small taste of what they were talking about after his ordeal at the hands of Walter Gordon. The media had almost gone crazy trying to get pictures of the “CSI who’d been buried alive”. He’d had to have his phone number changed and some of his uniform friends had spent their off duty hours protecting him and keeping the vultures off his property.
“I called the guy; his name was Terry Whalen. He just went ballistic when he realized it really was me. It took me forever to get him calm enough to talk to me and then to get him to agree to meet me someplace private where we could talk. We met at a little park over by Desert Pines High School. You know the one over on Harris Avenue. The park is real nice and it’s clean and usually deserted at night. I told him to be there at 8:30 pm and I showed up at 9.00 pm after I had a chance to look the place over and make sure he hadn’t decided to sell me out to some low-life scumbag with a camera.
He was alone and was so excited he could hardly talk to me or even look at me. I told him what I wanted and asked him if he would be my body double. He didn’t believe me at first but the more we talked, the more excited we both got. He did sound a little like me and the more I looked at him, the more I thought we might get away with it.”
“He really got excited when I told him I’d been getting some nibbles from Hollywood and if things panned out, I would need a stand-in and of course, my body double would be my first choice for my stand-in. I didn’t bullshit him. I told him it could be dangerous. I told him about the mob and the concert. He knew all about that. He said he’d stood guard outside the hospital for hours until he heard I was okay.”
“We agreed on money. I told him I would pay for medical, dental and vision. I asked him if he would be willing to have some plastic surgery to make him look even more like me and he almost wet his pants.”
Eric turned to Charles and said, “You remember when we went out to California four months ago? We went first class and so did Terry. He was on the plane that left right after ours. I put him up at Beverly Hilton in one of their cottage units. When you thought I went to the studio for a look at the recording facilities, I actually picked Terry up and took him to a plastic surgeon. I told them exactly what I wanted and paid for it in cash. Then I made arrangements for him to be picked up and taken to the Doctor’s office for the surgery and also for round the clock nursing care while he recuperated. We came back 5 days later and he returned the following week. I was stunned when I saw him. Even with the swelling and bruises; god he looked so much like me, it was like looking in a mirror. These two weeks were his audition so to speak. I figured if he could fool you for two weeks, he could fool anyone.”
“I set you up Charles and I’m so sorry but I just wanted to feel like a human again so bad. I told you I was going to be working on my new CD and you’ve been through that with me before so you knew not to bother me except for occasional meals and helping me sneak out for a long car ride sometimes. He was supposed to call me if there was any problem at all with you or anyone else. I never heard from him so I thought everything was going great. I was so excited; I spent the two weeks buying a cabin up in the mountains and getting it furnished so I could use it as a get-a-way and music studio.”
“Today was the end of my two weeks. I was really anxious to get home and find out how things went and God I missed you Charles. I pulled into the driveway and into the far stall in the garage. I took my time to unload all my stuff and I stopped by the laundry room to unload my dirty stuff. I didn’t realize how much time I’d taken until I walked into my own house and Charles met me in my hall with a gun. I could not figure out what the hell could have gone so wrong; especially when Charles took one look at me, grabbed his chest and collapsed in the hall. I was trying to get his pills in his mouth when this guy came running through the front door with a gun in his hand. Jesus what’s with all you people and your guns. When we were sure that we didn’t need to take Charles to the hospital, he suffers from angina, I demanded an explanation.”
Brass turned to Nick and said, “Yeah Nick, I wouldn’t mind an explanation myself. Why did he call you and how did you get here so fast and what the hell is going on?”
Now it was Nick’s turn and he knew he was a terrible liar but he had to pull this off if he wanted to keep on working at a job he loved with people he loved. Nick did not like lying to Jim and Warrick, but he could not explain his fascination with their dead victim. He knew they would not understand his relationship with Charles and he sure as hell did not want them to know about all the time he’d spent at the mansion in the last two weeks.
He took a deep breath and mentally nudged himself into lying mode. “Tonight was my night off. I’d intended to see the new Nicholas Cage movie but I was so damn tired, I slept a lot longer than I meant to. I didn’t set an alarm and it was way past midnight when I finally got my sleep out. I checked the theater and thank heavens we live in Las Vegas because they had a showing at 1:45 am. I dressed, ate and took off to see the show. As I was leaving the theater, my cell phone went off. It was Charles and I could hardly hear him. He was talking real low and I finally figured out he was telling me that someone had broken in the garage. He said he couldn’t sleep and he heard the door to the garage open and then close. He went down stairs and made sure the door into the house was locked and then called me. I told him to go back to his bedroom and lock the door. Obviously he didn’t do it or he wouldn’t have been waiting in the hall with a gun.”
“I know I should have called you right away but I was just 15 minutes away and I wasn’t sure but what he had imagined the door opening. Charles has been having a real hard time since Eric died. He trusted me because I went to the funeral with him and listened to his ideas about Scott Henderson. I didn’t make him feel like a senile old fool because he hadn’t remembered the incident over the painting until the funeral.”
“When I got here, I pulled up to the front door and started up the stairs. I heard loud voices and then someone yelled ‘Charles’. I pulled my gun and got in the house as quick as I could. The rest of it you know except I damn near let Charles die because I was so stunned when I saw my ‘body’ bending over him, I never would have been able to find his pills and get them into him.”
It was a simple story and he could pretty much confirm all of it. He had seen the movie so he could describe the plot and Warrick knew he never saved his ticket stubs so that would not be a problem.
Jim looked thoughtful and then said slowly, “Okay; that makes sense and Yeah I guess I would have been pretty pissed if you’d called me and ordered out the troops for someone’s bad dream. But Nick, if you ever do this to me again, I’ll write you up. I swear; do you understand?”
“Yeah, Jim I do and I can’t promise I won’t do the same thing again but I hope to god we never have another case like this.” He turned to Warrick and said, “Rick? Are we okay or are you mad at me too?”
Rick looked at Nick and said, ‘You’re damn right I’m mad at you. I swear to God you go out of your way to get yourself in trouble. I’m beginning to think that trying to have your back is a 24/7 job. BUT, I know how you are. You just got to get on that white horse and gallop in when you think someone’s in trouble.” He turned to Jim and said, “I guess we need to get Mr. Sanders down to the station and take a formal statement.”
Jim stood up and said, “Yeah, we have just enough time before the end of shift to get the paperwork started.”
Nick stood up and said, “Hey guys, let’s not get in a rush here.”
“What are you talking about Nick? You know the drill.”
“Jim, Rick…this guy was murdered two weeks ago. Whoever did it is still out there. Right now, he thinks he’s home free. If we start parading the very dead Eric Sanders through the police station, we’re putting a target on his back not to mention throwing away a great chance to maybe catch our killer. Think about it.”
Jim and Warrick looked at each other and then Nick and then Eric Sanders. Jim turned away in confusion and Warrick dropped his head in his hands. Both men said, “Shit.”
That about covered it.