In a World They Forgot

Run Until You Can't Walk

"Guys, interrogation, now!" Brass shouted down the hall to where I was standing with Nick reviewing the case file with scrutiny.

There had been a break in the twin cases and me and Nick had been waiting for them to bring the suspect in, we were the ones Grissom wanted to interview him.

There he was. Frank Baldwin. A middle aged balding man, twiddling his thumbs, sitting in that chair, acting like he'd done nothing wrong. I grabbed the report from Brass and stormed in the room, Nick hot on my heels. I slammed the file down and leaned on the table, my anger rising when I noticed him trying to get a good look down my red shirt. Nick must've noticed too because suddenly the sound of his fists hitting the table echoed around the room and he was right in the guys face, his eyes blazing with anger.

"20 something girls, do they get you hot under the collar buddy?" He hissed menacingly.

"Who doesn't get hot under the collar by them?" Frank replied with a smirk winking at me.

"How about the girls you killed? All six of them." I answered throwing the photos on the table and studying his reaction.

"I didn't kill nobody, girlie." He pushed the photos back across the table his eyes fixed on my breasts rather than my face.

"Really? Because we found your fingerprints on the door handle to two of the cars they were found in. A black corvette and a red Porsche ring any bells?" I tried to resist the urge to break his nose.

"I'm a mechanic. I'm touched at least a dozen black corvettes in the last year and red Porsche‘s are less common, but I‘ve been in them!" Frank laughed.

"Do you think this is funny Frank? Look at them. Look at the six girls, none of them older than CSI Romani here and all of them laying on steel beds in our morgue. If that's your idea of funny then I'll find a reason to get you life in prison because it's sick!" Nick told him through gritted teeth, forcing him to look at the photos.

"Look, I don't even recognise any of these girls! I've never seen any of them before!"

"Then how did your fingerprints get onto their cars!?" Nick shouted, even startling me.

"I probably serviced it recently! I swear down on my grandmother's grave that I don't know them!"

I was about to ask another question when the door opened and Greg came in, his face grave.

"Two officer’s patrolling near The Strip have just found another set of twins." He said solemnly, his eyes disappointed.

"I told you it wasn't me!" Frank cried out.

"Just because you were in here when we found the bodies doesn't mean you aren't the killer. Even if you're innocent on that charge, I'm sure I can pin a pretty strong sexual harassment charge on you." I said angrily through gritted teeth.

"You don't even have anything on me!"

"The camera sure does." I whispered to him sweetly before making my way out of the room and punching the wall opposite.

Greg looked over at me in shock, never knowing me to get so angry that I'd beat up walls. Nick sighed and held my arms to my side before I attempted to take on anything else.

"We should have caught this asshole by now!" I screamed, struggling in his hold.

"I know kiddo, but getting angry isn't going to help anyone." Nick told me softly.

"Eight girls are dead Nick! What am I supposed to do?" I yelled at him pushing him away and staring at him, waiting for a response.

Greg folded me into his arms and rocked me back and forth, his dark green shirt balled up in my fists as I pounded wearily into his chest. He winced in pain but held me tight, allowing me to let out my frustrations. Finally I calmed down and stepped back, wiping away streams of angry tears. Greg was looking down at me with dark concerned eyes. Nick was looking at both of us with worried eyes.