Below the Surface [CSI/The X-Files; Grissom/Catherine, Mulder/Scully]
TITLE: Below the Surface
CHAPTER 5: More Questions Than Answers
FANDOM(S): CSI, The X-Files
PAIRING(S): Mulder/Scully, Grissom/Catherine
SPOILERS: [CSI: Fourth season]; [X-Files: Seventh season]
RATING: R (for language, violence, etc.)
SUMMARY: "Somehow, I have a feeling that on this case, we're gonna end up with more questions than answers."
*****
"So where to first?" Grissom asked his lovely companion as they slid into the Denali together, throwing her a smile.
She gave him a dazzling grin in return, losing herself momentarily in his flirtatious smile. When she saw him cock his head and purse his lips, she came back to reality, realizing she hadn't yet answered his question.
"Umm..." She glanced away, pretending to glance down at their case file... though she secretly hoped to hide the fact that she was blushing. She groaned inwardly. Twenty years beside this man and he still could reduce her to acting like a silly schoolgirl with a crush. "How about Trisha Fields' husband? Since she's been gone the longest..."
Grissom nodded, keeping his lips pursed, though a self-satisfied smirk threatened to burst forth. Twenty years beside this woman, and he'd never been able to make her blush. Really, truly blush. He made a mental note to try to incite this from her more often, then gave a brief grunt of agreement before maneuvering the SUV into midday Vegas traffic.
*****
"Allan Fields?"
"Yes?" a somewhat lean, balding man slowly replied, eyeing the pair on his porch.
In unison, Grissom and Catherine held up their ID badges, Catherine throwing a polite smile at the man for good measure. "Mr. Fields, I'm Catherine Willows..." She nodded toward her companion. "And this is Gil Grissom. We're with the Las Vegas crime lab."
The man's eyes immediately widened. "Are you here about my wife? Did you finally find her?"
Catherine drew in a breath, her heart going out to the man. He seemed so anxious. What they'd have to tell him would crush him. "Yes..." she replied solemnly. "We did. Mr. Fields, um--"
"Daddy?" A bouncing little girl appeared in the doorway, her long brown hair pulled up in pigtails, tied in place with yellow ribbons.
He smiled at the little girl. "Yes, Sammy?"
"Can I have a peanut butter sandwich?"
"Yes, sweetheart. I'll come in and make it for you in a second."
"Okay, Daddy!" she giggled, and skipped away.
Allan smiled apologetically at the criminalists. "Our daughter, Samantha," he explained. "She just turned six yesterday."
Grissom nodded in response, his mouth still set in a solemn expression, while Catherine managed a polite smile. "Uhh, Mr. Fields... about your wife..."
"No..." he murmured, eyeing both criminalists, and their somber expressions. "No, please don't tell me that she--"
Catherine nodded slowly, and watched as the man crumbled. Tears clouded his vision, and two shaky hands flew up to hold his head. "No... no no, that can't be right. You must be mistaken."
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Fields," Grissom murmured. "But DNA tests and fingerprints have confirmed it's your wife."
"Dear God..." He rubbed his forehead, tears slipping down his cheeks. "What am I gonna tell Sammy?"
Catherine laid a supportive hand on the man's shoulder. "Mr. Fields, why don't we go inside. You can sit down."
"And we need to ask you some questions," Grissom added.
"Wh-where... um... where did you f-find my wife?" he stammered shakily.
"Daddy?" the little girl called from somewhere in the kitchen. "Can I have my sandwich now?"
Catherine patted his knee. "I can go make it for her, sir. I have a daughter of my own."
"Thank you," he sighed gratefully as he took a seat on an ottoman near the couch... his head dropping into his hands once more.
Catherine nodded her response, though he couldn't see... and glanced to Grissom briefly, raising her brows, before she set off for the kitchen. Grissom then turned his attention to the man across the coffee table from him. "Mr. Fields... can you tell me when it was that you last saw your wife?"
"It-it was l-last week..." he stammered, voice still quivering with unshed tears. "At the company barbecue."
"The company barbecue?"
Allan nodded. "I work for a computer software company, here in Henderson. Dallas Star Software. We're an offshoot of a larger, Texas corporation."
Grissom nodded. "And your company held a barbecue last week for its employees?"
"And their families."
"Where, exactly?"
He drew in a slow breath. "At Lake Mead." When realization struck, his eyes widened. "Is that where you..."
"Yes," Grissom replied.
Allan nodded slowly in response, tears filling his eyes once more. "That's what I thought had happened," he murmured. "She'd gone out on the boat with my boss and his wife. They were going to go snorkeling for awhile." He shrugged. "When Sammy and I couldn't find her, we figured she'd gone to play volleyball on the other side of the lake with some of the others. I left her a message on her cell phone telling her I was going to take Sammy home around nine." He shrugged once more. "I'd assumed she'd get a ride from Sharon... one of her girlfriends that works in my office."
Catherine appeared in the livingroom doorway, smiling at the men. "She's eating her sandwich happily," she announced, and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "And I grabbed a juice box out of the fridge for her too... I hope that's okay."
"Yes," Allan sighed. "Thank you so much."
"It's no trouble at all." She smiled politely at him, then moved around the coffee table to sit beside Grissom on the couch, lightly patting his hip as indication for him to slide over. When he did, she threw him a small smile, before turning her attention back to Allan Fields.
"Mr. Fields..." Grissom continued, "When exactly did you report your wife missing?"
"Well, the first time I tried was that next morning, when I woke up and she wasn't there beside me. But it hadn't been twenty-four hours yet, so... I think Saturday night was when I reported her missing." He paused, swallowing hard. "How, um..." He slowly raised his eyes to the criminalists. "How did she die?"
Grissom and Catherine exchanged a glance, both reading the question in the other's eyes, before turning back to him. "Well, we're still not entirely sure how it happened," Catherine responded in a sigh. "She was found in the lake, but the cause of death has yet to be determined."
"Well... did she drown?" he asked tearfully.
"We really can't say for sure at this point," Grissom replied, tossing a glance at his companion, whose attention was focused on the man sitting across from them. "But we can keep you posted."
Allan nodded. "Thank you, I'd appreciate that," he sighed wearily, rubbing his forehead.
With another exchanged glance, the criminalists rose to their feet, both outstretching their hands to Mr. Fields, shaking his politely. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Fields," Catherine murmured, "And we're sorry for your loss."
He merely nodded, obviously too emotional to respond verbally. Catherine laid a supportive hand on his shoulder. "We'll call you if we have any more information."
He nodded once more. "And if you have anymore questions," he told them, "You can contact me here. I'll be taking some time off from work."
Grissom and Catherine nodded, gave him their condolences once more, before heading back out. "Did you talk to the daughter at all?" Grissom asked, once they were partway down the driveway, and out of earshot.
She nodded, pulling on her sunglasses. "A little. Asked her about her mommy. She seems to think she's on a trip somewhere."
"Did she say anything else?"
"I asked her what happened the last time she'd seen her mother before her 'trip,' and she'd said that she'd given her a hug and a kiss before she got on a boat to go snorkeling. Shortly afterwards, she said her father had taken her home to go to bed." She eyed him, watching as he pulled his sunglasses over his cobalt eyes. "What did he say?"
"Something along those lines," he responded in a sigh as they climbed into the Denali... her on the passenger side, him on the driver's side. He thrust the key into the ignition before reaching back for his seatbelt. "Said she'd gone out onto the lake with the boss and his wife, to go snorkeling. When she didn't return after an hour or so, he'd assumed she'd gone to the other side of the lake to play volleyball."
"What I wanna know is, what happened to the boss and his wife?" Catherine questioned.
"And why neither of them have come forward with information since Trisha's disappearance?" Grissom nodded. "Yes, I know."
She sighed, shaking her head slowly while they pulled out into traffic. "Somehow, I have a feeling that on this case, we're gonna end up with more questions than answers."
He nodded, frowning. "I have a feeling that you may be right, my dear."
TBC
CHAPTER 5: More Questions Than Answers
FANDOM(S): CSI, The X-Files
PAIRING(S): Mulder/Scully, Grissom/Catherine
SPOILERS: [CSI: Fourth season]; [X-Files: Seventh season]
RATING: R (for language, violence, etc.)
SUMMARY: "Somehow, I have a feeling that on this case, we're gonna end up with more questions than answers."
*****
"So where to first?" Grissom asked his lovely companion as they slid into the Denali together, throwing her a smile.
She gave him a dazzling grin in return, losing herself momentarily in his flirtatious smile. When she saw him cock his head and purse his lips, she came back to reality, realizing she hadn't yet answered his question.
"Umm..." She glanced away, pretending to glance down at their case file... though she secretly hoped to hide the fact that she was blushing. She groaned inwardly. Twenty years beside this man and he still could reduce her to acting like a silly schoolgirl with a crush. "How about Trisha Fields' husband? Since she's been gone the longest..."
Grissom nodded, keeping his lips pursed, though a self-satisfied smirk threatened to burst forth. Twenty years beside this woman, and he'd never been able to make her blush. Really, truly blush. He made a mental note to try to incite this from her more often, then gave a brief grunt of agreement before maneuvering the SUV into midday Vegas traffic.
*****
"Allan Fields?"
"Yes?" a somewhat lean, balding man slowly replied, eyeing the pair on his porch.
In unison, Grissom and Catherine held up their ID badges, Catherine throwing a polite smile at the man for good measure. "Mr. Fields, I'm Catherine Willows..." She nodded toward her companion. "And this is Gil Grissom. We're with the Las Vegas crime lab."
The man's eyes immediately widened. "Are you here about my wife? Did you finally find her?"
Catherine drew in a breath, her heart going out to the man. He seemed so anxious. What they'd have to tell him would crush him. "Yes..." she replied solemnly. "We did. Mr. Fields, um--"
"Daddy?" A bouncing little girl appeared in the doorway, her long brown hair pulled up in pigtails, tied in place with yellow ribbons.
He smiled at the little girl. "Yes, Sammy?"
"Can I have a peanut butter sandwich?"
"Yes, sweetheart. I'll come in and make it for you in a second."
"Okay, Daddy!" she giggled, and skipped away.
Allan smiled apologetically at the criminalists. "Our daughter, Samantha," he explained. "She just turned six yesterday."
Grissom nodded in response, his mouth still set in a solemn expression, while Catherine managed a polite smile. "Uhh, Mr. Fields... about your wife..."
"No..." he murmured, eyeing both criminalists, and their somber expressions. "No, please don't tell me that she--"
Catherine nodded slowly, and watched as the man crumbled. Tears clouded his vision, and two shaky hands flew up to hold his head. "No... no no, that can't be right. You must be mistaken."
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Fields," Grissom murmured. "But DNA tests and fingerprints have confirmed it's your wife."
"Dear God..." He rubbed his forehead, tears slipping down his cheeks. "What am I gonna tell Sammy?"
Catherine laid a supportive hand on the man's shoulder. "Mr. Fields, why don't we go inside. You can sit down."
"And we need to ask you some questions," Grissom added.
"Wh-where... um... where did you f-find my wife?" he stammered shakily.
"Daddy?" the little girl called from somewhere in the kitchen. "Can I have my sandwich now?"
Catherine patted his knee. "I can go make it for her, sir. I have a daughter of my own."
"Thank you," he sighed gratefully as he took a seat on an ottoman near the couch... his head dropping into his hands once more.
Catherine nodded her response, though he couldn't see... and glanced to Grissom briefly, raising her brows, before she set off for the kitchen. Grissom then turned his attention to the man across the coffee table from him. "Mr. Fields... can you tell me when it was that you last saw your wife?"
"It-it was l-last week..." he stammered, voice still quivering with unshed tears. "At the company barbecue."
"The company barbecue?"
Allan nodded. "I work for a computer software company, here in Henderson. Dallas Star Software. We're an offshoot of a larger, Texas corporation."
Grissom nodded. "And your company held a barbecue last week for its employees?"
"And their families."
"Where, exactly?"
He drew in a slow breath. "At Lake Mead." When realization struck, his eyes widened. "Is that where you..."
"Yes," Grissom replied.
Allan nodded slowly in response, tears filling his eyes once more. "That's what I thought had happened," he murmured. "She'd gone out on the boat with my boss and his wife. They were going to go snorkeling for awhile." He shrugged. "When Sammy and I couldn't find her, we figured she'd gone to play volleyball on the other side of the lake with some of the others. I left her a message on her cell phone telling her I was going to take Sammy home around nine." He shrugged once more. "I'd assumed she'd get a ride from Sharon... one of her girlfriends that works in my office."
Catherine appeared in the livingroom doorway, smiling at the men. "She's eating her sandwich happily," she announced, and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "And I grabbed a juice box out of the fridge for her too... I hope that's okay."
"Yes," Allan sighed. "Thank you so much."
"It's no trouble at all." She smiled politely at him, then moved around the coffee table to sit beside Grissom on the couch, lightly patting his hip as indication for him to slide over. When he did, she threw him a small smile, before turning her attention back to Allan Fields.
"Mr. Fields..." Grissom continued, "When exactly did you report your wife missing?"
"Well, the first time I tried was that next morning, when I woke up and she wasn't there beside me. But it hadn't been twenty-four hours yet, so... I think Saturday night was when I reported her missing." He paused, swallowing hard. "How, um..." He slowly raised his eyes to the criminalists. "How did she die?"
Grissom and Catherine exchanged a glance, both reading the question in the other's eyes, before turning back to him. "Well, we're still not entirely sure how it happened," Catherine responded in a sigh. "She was found in the lake, but the cause of death has yet to be determined."
"Well... did she drown?" he asked tearfully.
"We really can't say for sure at this point," Grissom replied, tossing a glance at his companion, whose attention was focused on the man sitting across from them. "But we can keep you posted."
Allan nodded. "Thank you, I'd appreciate that," he sighed wearily, rubbing his forehead.
With another exchanged glance, the criminalists rose to their feet, both outstretching their hands to Mr. Fields, shaking his politely. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Fields," Catherine murmured, "And we're sorry for your loss."
He merely nodded, obviously too emotional to respond verbally. Catherine laid a supportive hand on his shoulder. "We'll call you if we have any more information."
He nodded once more. "And if you have anymore questions," he told them, "You can contact me here. I'll be taking some time off from work."
Grissom and Catherine nodded, gave him their condolences once more, before heading back out. "Did you talk to the daughter at all?" Grissom asked, once they were partway down the driveway, and out of earshot.
She nodded, pulling on her sunglasses. "A little. Asked her about her mommy. She seems to think she's on a trip somewhere."
"Did she say anything else?"
"I asked her what happened the last time she'd seen her mother before her 'trip,' and she'd said that she'd given her a hug and a kiss before she got on a boat to go snorkeling. Shortly afterwards, she said her father had taken her home to go to bed." She eyed him, watching as he pulled his sunglasses over his cobalt eyes. "What did he say?"
"Something along those lines," he responded in a sigh as they climbed into the Denali... her on the passenger side, him on the driver's side. He thrust the key into the ignition before reaching back for his seatbelt. "Said she'd gone out onto the lake with the boss and his wife, to go snorkeling. When she didn't return after an hour or so, he'd assumed she'd gone to the other side of the lake to play volleyball."
"What I wanna know is, what happened to the boss and his wife?" Catherine questioned.
"And why neither of them have come forward with information since Trisha's disappearance?" Grissom nodded. "Yes, I know."
She sighed, shaking her head slowly while they pulled out into traffic. "Somehow, I have a feeling that on this case, we're gonna end up with more questions than answers."
He nodded, frowning. "I have a feeling that you may be right, my dear."
TBC