Body of Evidence

enter Mobley's private office.

'You simply can't go in there,' she said again, her voice growing more shrill.

But the preoccupied Grissom was already almost past her now, his hand on the knob of a door marked PRIVATE, and only when the woman gripped him by the arm did he turn to acknowledge her presence, despite the fact that probably most of the building had heard her all-but-scream at him.

'What is it you want?' he asked, frowning mildly.

'I said you can't go in there-Sheriff Mobley is in a very important meeting and doesn't wish to be disturbed.'

'I'm afraid he's going to be,' Grissom said, 'when he sees this.' He held up the file folder. 'You tell Sheriff Mobley that Gil Grissom from CSI has discovered suppressed evidence from the Candace Lewis case…and see if he doesn't make time for me.'

At that instant Mobley's door opened and the sheriff stood framed there, red-faced with anger, inches away from Grissom. 'What the hell is going on out here?'

Grissom brandished the manila folder. 'Did you know about this?'

The two men moved deeper into the office; the secretary was fading back, confused and alarmed. Sara kept her position on the periphery, fascinated to see Grissom in such an emotional state. Others might have assumed Grissom was as cool as usual, but Sara could sense the rage.

'Did I know about what?' Mobley snapped, defensively. Then, taking it down a notch, the sheriff added, 'I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, Gil.'

A short, pudgy man in a crisp suit and tie, his flat face decorated with a beaky nose and black-button eyes, stood eavesdropping in the doorway. Sara did not know this man, but his grimace and generally dismayed expression indicated he recognized the file folder, even if the sheriff did not.

'This,' Grissom said, indicating the folder, 'is the report Conrad Ecklie's people did on their search of Candace Lewis's apartment.'

The pudgy little man stepped into the room and said, 'You two gentleman have things to talk about-I'll stop back later, Sheriff.'

'Don't rush off on my account, Mr. Anthony,' Grissom said with an acid smile.

'See you later, Ed,' the sheriff said, absently, and Anthony hurried across the office, flashing a nervous smile at Sara before he rushed out and was gone.

Interesting, Sara thought.

'Mrs. Mathis,' the sheriff said to the secretary, 'please step out into the hall, and make sure no one enters.'

'Yes sir,' she said, her confusion apparent, but she complied.

They did not move into the sheriff's office, remaining in the outer reception area, as if this were somehow neutral turf. The sheriff seemed calmer, now. 'I didn't know there was a report from the Lewis woman's apartment. I thought they were still waiting for lab results.'

Grissom winced. 'For three weeks?'

'Well, don't some of your lab results take a long time?'

That slowed Grissom down. He flapped the air with the folder. 'You didn't know about the report?'

'Gil, you have my word.'

Grissom said nothing for a moment; he was studying the sheriff as carefully as he might a specimen on a slide. Then he said, 'How is it that you never saw the crime scene report from the highest-profile missing persons case we've had in years?'

Mobley thought about that, and the irritation in him was building-and Sara didn't sense the irritation was aimed at Grissom.

Finally the sheriff said, 'Frankly, I don't know-let's find out.'

Mobley went to the door and opened it, scaring his secretary a little, as she stood out there awkwardly waiting. 'Mrs. Mathis,' he said, 'come back in and find out where Conrad Ecklie is-and tell him I want to see him immediately.'

'Certainly, sir,' Samantha said, slipping in, moving past the sheriff and returning to her desk.

Mobley was heading toward his inner office, motioning in a manner that wasn't unfriendly. 'You two come in,' he said, 'and let me have a look at that report.'

Now it was Grissom who hung back. Sara was surprised to note an expression of confusion on the boss's face-it wasn't common.

'What is it?' Mobley demanded.

Grissom shrugged. 'You've recused yourself from this case.'

'Gil!' Mobley blurted. His eyes were huge and rolling. 'For God's sake, man, you can't have it both ways. Either you want me to see that report, or you don't!'

'You're a suspect, Brian.'

'Well, I think you've already made that clear,' Mobley said sarcastically.

Grissom's tone seemed tentatively conciliatory. 'What I need is for you to tell me the truth about this report. I need to know if you've already seen it.'

The secretary was on the phone, trying to make her call to Ecklie.

'You have my word, Gil, I haven't. I have never seen any crime scene report about Candace Lewis. Now, damnit…come in.'

As Sara and Grissom entered Mobley's inner office, the CSI supervisor handed the sheriff-who had shut the door-the manila folder.

Seated behind his desk now, Mobley opened the folder, slow-scanning contents; then he looked up disbelievingly at Grissom and Sara, who stood in front of his desk.

'Sit,' the sheriff said, his voice weary, and they did, as Mobley went back to the report to read it more carefully.

When he'd finished, the sheriff looked across at the two CSIs. 'They found Harrison's DNA in her bed?'

Grissom nodded.

Sara couldn't tell how her boss was reading the situation, but to her, Mobley seemed completely, honestly surprised. She believed the man had never seen the report before; and, if he had, Sheriff Brian Mobley was a better actor than the vast majority of liars the CSIs encountered. And they had encountered quite a few.

Before the discussion could even begin, a soft knock came at the door.

Mobley said, 'Come in,' and Mrs. Mathis ushered in dayshift CSI supervisor Conrad Ecklie. The secretary disappeared, but Ecklie froze just inside, apparently surprised to see Grissom and Sara.

'Come in, Conrad,' Mobley said.

Ecklie nodded to the other two and stood next to where Grissom was seated.

'Good morning, Sheriff,' Ecklie said. 'I understand, there's a matter of some urgency…?'

Mobley tossed the report across the desk. Ecklie looked down at it; his eyes and nostrils flared. 'What's this?'

'Nothing much,' Mobley said. 'Just the Candace Lewis crime scene report.'

Ecklie seemed confused. 'What do you mean?'

'Do I stutter? How much more clearly do I need to put it? This is the Candace Lewis crime scene report!'

'But…Sheriff…Brian…I gave that to you weeks ago.'

Sara and Grissom exchanged glances, then turned back to the sheriff, Grissom saying sharply, 'So then, you have seen it?'

Mobley shook his head vigorously. 'No.' Then to Ecklie, he demanded, 'Conrad, why the hell are you lying about this?'

Both Mobley and Grissom were glaring at the dayshift supervisor.

Who seemed beside himself. 'But I'm not! I'm not lying-what possible reason would I have to lie about that?' Ecklie looked pleadingly at Grissom. 'I know we've had our little problems, Gil-but the sheriff…this must be some political maneuvering. If one of us is lying, it has to be him!'

'Goddamnit,' Mobley began, thrusting to his feet.

Eyes moving quickly from Grissom to Mobley and back again, a desperate-sounding Ecklie said, 'I'm telling