Body of Evidence

Twenty-one minutes later, Nick Stokes was wheeling the Tahoe into the Newcombe-Gold parking lot, where on this sunny morning only a handful of cars were parked. The CSIs were getting their silver crime-scene kits out of the back of the van when Sergeant O'Riley pulled his Taurus into a slot next to them.

O'Riley ambled over. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked a little like the zombie Nick had almost mistaken him for, the other day.

'No fair,' the detective said. 'You guys caught some sleep.'

Nick grinned. 'Three hours'll do wonders.'

Catherine made a wry face. 'At Nicky's age, it will.'

'Aw,' O'Riley said to her, 'you're beautiful at any age.'

'I'm going to take that as a compliment.'

They started toward the building, O'Riley saying, 'Sounds like our computer geeks are making some progress.'

Nick said, 'Sounds like.'

The agency's front door was unlocked. The attractive brunette receptionist was working and it took only a minute or so for Janice Denard to answer the summons. The two CSIs and the detective moved with Denard away from the reception desk, for some privacy.

The office manager had replaced yesterday's polka-dot dress with snug-fitting blue jeans and a long-sleeve red silk blouse with the top two buttons undone.

'Casual day?' Catherine asked lightly.

Janice sort of smiled. 'Casual every day, thanks to you people.'

That may have come out harsher than Denard intended, but Catherine didn't react. Oddly, it was Nick who found himself working hard to swallow an angry retort.

It was just that the woman's reaction was all too typical. People wanted protection, wanted law enforcement to keep all the badness in the world away…but without disturbing anything, without disruption.

Such an attitude played into why, the longer they were on the job, so many officers grew cynical. For his part, Nick tried hard to keep any cynicism in check-spending so much time in the lab, hitting the science end, helped. Still, Nick knew the Denard woman was doing her best to cooperate, balanced against her need and desire to keep making her living.

Funny-it wasn't that Nick was in a bad mood, really. Neither was Catherine. Nor did they seem particularly on edge, but…

…something about the nature of this case was working on them, and not in a good way. He would try to keep tabs on himself…and Catherine. Grissom's voice seemed to whisper in his ear: Not subjective, Nick- objective.

Catherine was bringing Denard up to speed, closing with, 'Is Ben Jackson in yet? We need to talk to him.'

'Oh, my God,' Janice said, a hand coming up in front of her mouth. 'Not Ben!'

'Let's not get ahead of ourselves,' Catherine said pleasantly. 'It was Ben's work station that ordered the print job, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's the one who did this.'

Straightening, obviously trying to calm herself, Denard said, 'Well, I hope it isn't Ben. It doesn't seem that it could possibly be Ben….'

O'Riley asked, 'Who is he around here?'

'Well he's a sweetheart,' Denard said. 'Just a real sweetheart!'

Nick smiled a little. 'Maybe you could be a little more specific.'

'Yes. Sorry.' Denard seemed mildly flustered; but then she composed herself and went on: 'Ben's a young man who joined the firm just last summer-after he graduated from college.'

'Is he in today?' Catherine again.

Janice nodded toward the doorway to the corridor of offices. 'I'm pretty sure I saw him get here, oh, a little while ago. Half an hour maybe? He, Jermaine, and Mr. Randle, and maybe Mr. Newcombe are the only ones who'll be coming in today. Doing what they can, mostly on the phones. The rest of our staff won't return until we call them back.'

O'Riley asked, 'Are Mr. Allred and Mr. Randle here yet?'

Denard nodded, qualifying it: 'Jermaine for sure. I told him the computer towers were gone and that the place was shut down. Naturally, he wanted to know why.'

'What did you tell him?'

'Just that it was part of an investigation. I'm afraid I…I lied to him.'

O'Riley arched both brows. 'How so?'

'I…I told I didn't know what the investigation was about. He seems annoyed, I have to say.'

'Just annoyed?' Catherine asked. 'Not surprised?'

'Surprised, too. Then he said he might as well just go home, but I stopped him. I told him I thought you people would probably be back today, to talk to him and the others. Actually, I asked all three of them to stick around.'

'Was anyone upset by that?' the detective asked.

'Not really. Jermaine said he had some drawing to do and he didn't need the computer anyway-not all of our graphics are computer-generated-so he went to his work station.'

Nick said, 'Let's go back to Ben Jackson for a moment.'

'What about Ben?'

'You're positive he wasn't here over the weekend?'

'I'm positive as far as my personal knowledge goes…but if you'd like, I'll check the sign-in book…. Come with me.'

Heels clicking, Denard led them back to the receptionist's desk. She made a request and the woman withdrew a large black three-ring binder from her center desk drawer desk.

Denard rested the big book on the counter and riffled through the pages to last Saturday. Methodically, she ran a finger down the lines. 'No…. No, there's no sign of Ben's name. He wasn't here this weekend.'

They strolled away from the desk again, Catherine saying, 'Well, isn't there any way he could have come in without signing in?' They stopped and formed a little semicircle. Denard shrugged.

'I suppose, but people get paid by this book…so they always sign in when they come to work. Besides, Ben was out of town.'

Nick said, 'Or was supposed to be out of town.'

Denard frowned. 'Why would I disbelieve him? Why would you?'

Catherine said, 'As far as signing in…maybe he didn't come in for work…. Maybe he came to do something else. Something recreational….'

Picking up on this, O'Riley asked, 'Is there any way Jackson could have been here without anyone seeing him?'

Denard had started shaking her head halfway through the question. 'Doubtful-too many people around. Yes, people come in and out, but there's always someone around during the day.'

'Back ways into the building?'

'Of course-but all but two are fire exits with alarms.'

Nick said, 'Two doors is one more door than you need.'

O'Riley pressed. 'Could Jackson have gotten in at night when no one was around?'

Again Denard shook her head. 'He doesn't have a key.'

'Who does have keys?'

Denard list's was short: 'Mr. Newcombe, Mr. Gold, Roxanne Scott and myself-that's it.'

Nick considered that for a moment. 'Someone could 'borrow' one of those keys, and make a copy….'

Denard's expression was skeptical. 'Isn't that a lot of trouble to go to, just to use a work computer, after hours?'

But Catherine and Nick exchanged looks that said each had had the same thought: someone dealing in kiddie porn over the net might well want to keep that material off his home computer. Using a work computer might muddy the waters, nicely, should the police be alerted…like now.

O'Riley was still at it: 'You're sure you didn't see Jackson on Saturday?'