Sin City

Nick shrugged. 'Sorry, Gris. No gun, no bullets, no blood, no nothin'. We went through everything, even the drains…zippo.'

They followed Brass and Grissom into the living room, the detective heading for Pierce, who was seated on the sofa, sipping his no doubt cold-by-now coffee.

'Mr. Pierce,' Brass said, 'I'm placing you under arrest.'

The therapist's eyes widened, but the hand holding the coffee cup remained steady. 'For…murder?'

Brass shook his head. 'Possession of cocaine.'

Grissom held up the evidence bag for Pierce to see.

Pierce made a face, tried to wave this off. 'Oh, Jesus, that's years old! I forgot it was even in the house.'

Brass put on his patented grin. 'I know this'll be hard for you to believe, Mr. Pierce, but that's not the first time I've heard that.'

'Hey, I used to snort some, but I haven't used since, hell…forever. It's an innocent mistake. When I got off it, that's one little stash I missed, when I threw out the rest.'

'Interesting defense,' Brass said.

Pierce let out a weight-of-the-world sigh. 'Fine, fine…. Will I need my lawyer?'

'This small amount is just a misdemeanor, Mr. Pierce,' Brass said. 'Probably not, but of course it is your right to seek counsel.'

'No, to hell with it,' Pierce said, standing. 'Let's just get this over with, so you can get back to the business of finding my wife…. Are you going to slap on the cuffs?'

Brass beamed at him. 'Not unless you're going to make a break for it.'

'I'll try to restrain myself,' Pierce said. 'My daughter's still in bed…I need to leave her a note.'

'Go ahead.'

'Very generous of you.'

Soon the five of them were marching through the front door of the Pierce castle into the sunshine. Brass guided the suspect into the backseat while he and Grissom climbed in front. Nick and Warrick took the Tahoe.

Traffic was already heavy. They were almost halfway back before either of them said a word.

Finally, Nick asked, 'There is a crime here, right? Besides misdemeanor controlled-substance possession?'

'What we have here,' Warrick said, 'is a crime scene…in search of a crime.'

6

SOMETHING ABOUT RAY LIPTON-HIS GRIEVING MANNER, more than his words-made Catherine Willows want to believe his story. Of course, Catherine had also believed her ex-husband, Eddie, and she knew how well that had turned out.

However much her heart wanted Lipton not to have done it, the evidence told another story: the videotape (beard or no beard), the history of fighting, the weapon…everything pointed toward Ray. Odds were, he'd done the murder-and these were a hell of a lot better odds than you could get at any casino in town.

Greg Sanders poked his spiky-haired head into her office. 'No prints on that electrical tie.'

Catherine looked up from the pile of papers on her desk with a frustrated frown. 'Not even a partial?'

'Of the killer, I mean.' Sanders stepped inside the office, hands on hips. 'Couple of smudges and a couple on the sides-all the vic's.' He shook his head. 'Poor baby only had a few seconds before the strap would've cut off the blood flow to her brain, y'know.'

Catherine nodded gravely.

The often jokey Sanders was dead serious. 'She gave it her best-tried to get a hold of it and failed. So she was an exotic dancer, huh?'

'That's right.'

'Yeah, okay…well, I'll just get back to it, then.'

Sitting back and closing her eyes and sighing, Catherine let her weight rock the chair. She sat there for a long moment, just thinking, processing the new information, sorting out her emotional reactions and putting them in one mental pile (marked 'Catherine'), placing the facts in another (marked 'Grissom'). Something tiny gnawed at the back of her brain…small but tenacious.

'Hey.'

With a start, Catherine sat forward to see Sara standing in front of her.

'Hey,' Catherine said.

'You ready to go?'

'…Sure.'

Sara frowned as she studied Catherine. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you…I just thought we'd go check out Lipton's truck.'

Catherine rubbed her eyes. 'Good idea. I could stand getting out of here.'

Sara gestured toward the PD wing. 'Conroy has to book Lipton, and then she wants to meet us at Jenna's apartment, to search it? And to tell her roommate the bad news.' A little what-the-hell shrug-'I thought we could do Lipton's truck on the way. We probably oughta log the overtime while the case is still fresh.'

Catherine nodded and rose. 'Okay.'

Lipton Construction had a corner building in an industrial park east of the airport. A one-story stucco affair with smoked-glass windows, dating back decades-ancient history in this town-it crouched like an ungainly beast near the entrance to the park, far away from the heavier industry. A couple of pickups and a Honda Accord sat in the otherwise empty parking lot out front. To the left, behind a gate and an eight-foot cyclone fence, lurked a few heavy-construction machines. Down the side of the building, two garage doors opened onto the fenced-in lot.

Sara pulled the Tahoe into the parking lot and eased into the spot next to the green Accord. Catherine wondered if any of these people knew what had happened to their boss-and their boss's fiancee-last night. They parked and climbed out of the SUV, Sara lugging a field kit.

Sara, as if reading Catherine's mind, asked, 'You think they know?'

'Probably not.'

'Just the same, walking in there, cold…. Any ideas?'

Holding up a finger in a 'wait' manner, Catherine said, 'Just one.' She plucked her cell phone from her purse, punched in a number, pushed SEND, and waited.

Finally, a voice on the other end picked up. 'Conroy.'

'Willows. Lipton still being cooperative?'

'Yeah. Still claims he was home alone, too.'

'Innocent people don't always have alibis, you know.'

'Is that what you think he is?' the detective asked. 'Innocent?'

'I think he's a suspect. And if he still wants to impress us with his cooperative attitude, why don't you have him call his construction company and pave the way for us?'

'You really think that's necessary?'

'Detective Conroy, if Lipton makes the call, his people just might be more anxious to help, than if we just barge in and tell them that we've arrested their boss on suspicion of murder.'

'Good point. Where are you?'

'At Lipton Construction-in the parking lot.'

'Sit tight,' Conroy said. 'I'll call you back in five minutes.'

Conroy more than kept her promise, Catherine's cell ringing in just under five.

'Lipton made the call for us,' Conroy said. 'He told them to play ball. They're expecting you.'

'Good. Thanks.'

'Catherine, I'll be questioning Lipton's people later today; but if you hear anything interesting, during the course of your evidentiary search, write it down, and let me know when we meet up at Jenna's apartment-so I have the info, going in.'

'I hear you,' Catherine said with a smile, and clicked off.

'We got the go-ahead?' Sara asked.

'Yeah. Lipton's staff is waiting for us…and Conroy gave us her roundabout blessing for a little off-the-cuff