Disclaimer: CSI and its characters are the intellectual property of CBS, Alliance Atlantis, and Jerry Bruckheimer. All original characters are the property of YS McCool.
Title: Confess
Author: YS McCool
Email: ysmccool@yahoo.com
Website: http://www.squidge.org/~flashpoint/
Permission to archive: Yes to WWOMB, CSISlash
Fandom(s): CSI
Genre: Slash
Pairing/Characters: Warrick/Nick/Gil, Archie/Greg
Rating: NC-17 (FRMAO)
Summary: The boys get help moving into their new home, Renata is seduced by a house, and a new team member arrives from Miami.
Warnings: Violence
Confess
By YS McCool
Chapter Three: What Did You See?
Warrick opened the indicated box and gasped. It was a V-Bold 2015 Sound Mixer. It may have been five years old but it was still one of the best systems ever made.
"Here are the input boards, the mike station, and the digital mixer." Beth paused as she read the labels on the ends of the boxes. "Power supply regulators, monitors, and monitor switching; it's all here."
Stuart, Beth's brother, uncovered more components of Beth's old home recording studio. They were in Elaine's basement and Doctor Rayburn wanted her space back.
"I'll update the cables on this and let me check your location before you plug any of this in," Stuart insisted. "You get it there and I'll set you up."
"Beth, there is no way I can afford this and still pay my share of the mortgage," Warrick admitted. He'd been excited when Beth had offered to sell him her old recording equipment that Elaine wanted removed from her basement. He'd been expecting two or three components he could build on, not this first rate system.
"Two thousand, with two hundred down and two hundred every paycheck until it's paid off," Beth offered. She held out her hand for shaking.
"You're losing money," Warrick insisted.
"But I'm getting Mom off my back," Beth countered, "and for that I'd give it to you."
Warrick smirked and shook Beth's hand. "Deal."
"Of course this means I have to get my crap out of here too," Stuart complained. He looked around and sighed. "Yeah, I better get this out of here before Mom sets fire to it all."
They finished the inventory and began loading the gear on dollies and carrying it out to the storage pod that was taking up one lane of Elaine's driveway. It was a wonder the woman didn't toss them.
By mid-afternoon, the pod was sitting in front of the new house and being emptied. Warrick, Nick, and Gil rushed downtown, signed the paperwork, and celebrated with gelatos at the Hot Pot Ice Cream Shoppe before heading to their new home.
Warrick's new recording equipment had been tested, installed, and tested again while they were in town. His new private space should have been a large apartment over the four-car garage, but now it was his own recording studio. The basement space he'd staked out earlier was going to be storage for the three of them and probably any friend with a sad enough story.
Brown stood in the center of his 2400 square foot space, 300 square feet larger than his Las Vegas townhouse, and marveled. He had his own bathroom, a kitchenette with a sink, skinny refrigerator, and microwave, and an entire wall of adjustable wooden bookshelves for his collectibles, books, art, and albums. He could stay up here for hours at a time but not if he were smart. Nick and Gil attracted far too much attention for him to take them for granted.
As he stood there, his cousins broke down the boxes they'd used and Gil's mother Grace and his Aunt Selene measured the windows, and there were a lot of them, including a set of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the pool, for window treatments. Warrick was wishing he hadn't sold his place furnished, but the couple had flipped over his furniture and offered a premium to keep it all. His leather couches, chairs, and loveseats would have been perfect in this new space.
"Leather couch, two leather loveseats, and a leather ottoman-coffee table," Grace spelled out slowly for Warrick's benefit. Gil had regained his hearing, but Brown had continued his pursuit of ASL so he could speak to Gil's mother.
"Exactly," Warrick agreed. "I sold mine with the townhouse," he spelled and spoke. "It meant a quick full-price plus sale."
Grace nodded. "We'll shop," she threatened.
Warrick turned out his empty pockets and looked sad. This house was eating them alive with demands of furniture, plants, and accessories. Both Gil and Nick were still in escrow with their Vegas homes and until that money flowed, they needed to watch the bottom line.
Grace laughed. "We'll shop carefully," she promised.
"Warrick, get out here," Warrick's young cousin, Juan, insisted. "Some crazy white man is about to burn a cross in your backyard."
Warrick was not worried but he also had no idea what Juan had seen. His cousin was not given to seeing things that weren't there.
Outside, seven thick, six-foot crosses lay on the ground and Nick's cousin Sam and his sons struggled the eighth one up.
"Sam, what in the world are you doing?" Warrick called.
"Dad wants you to have muscadines and you have to have strong supports for them," Sam answered as they plunged the sharpened end of the structure into the ground. Quick-drying cement was pouring around the end once they were sure it was level.
"What's a muscadine?" Juan asked.
"A native grape," Warrick answered. "Apparently Southerners make jams and wine out of them, as well as eat them raw."
"Oh, I found a cave," Juan stated while smacking his forehead. "It's on your land and I showed it to Gil. He said to bring you."
"And you're just telling me?" Warrick asked, imagining his man lost forever in some nasty hole in the ground.
"The KKK beats a cave," Juan answered.
"Show me the cave," Warrick said impatiently, "and ease off the KKK references. Nick's people are really sensitive about that. Nick's maternal great-grandfather successfully prosecuted some KKK members and was murdered because of it."
"Ouch," Juan responded.
"You can't know everything about people based on their skin color and where they live," Warrick advised.
He followed the younger man down the outside stairs, past the pool, through the backyard, and down the slope to the pastures. This section was wildly overgrown with some beautiful trees, bushes, and plants peeking out. There was a blackberry bush so large that no child would be allowed to approach it. Juan was no longer a child. How had that happened? Warrick remembered avoiding changing the kid's diaper. He'd learned to change it under threat from his Grams.
As they were approaching Gil's position, several bats flew out of what Warrick had assumed was a gash at the foot of the hill.
"Lord, don't let Nick see that," Warrick prayed quietly. His lover was a brave man but there were things that gave him the willies. Bats were one of them. Warrick had a deep hatred for rats and mold. A scene with a moldy rat would seriously make him think about changing careers.
"Hey, Grissom, you still alive?" Juan called.
"Let me check," Gil responded. He paused. "Yes, I'm still alive."
"Any treasure?" Juan asked as he ascended into the hole as if there were stairs going up the hill.
Warrick followed and discovered there were stone steps. "Look at this," he stated as he shone his flashlight around. The cave was obviously man-made with a 15-foot high domed, brick-lined ceiling in the easily 30-foot diameter chamber. You could have stashed quite a bit in here and no one passing would guess it existed.
"I've found some kid toys and several whiskey barrels," Gil reported. He was wearing his helmet that came with its own light. "The previous owners might have used the cave for household storage."
Juan looked very disappointed. "Anything you can sell on Ebay?"
"The toys for sure and there are some other artifacts that would make great quick sales," Gil reported. "However, if the whiskey barrels hold whiskey, then I doubt Ebay could handle the traffic."
"You should bottle it and give it as gifts," Juan suggested. "Starting with me."
"You're two years short of whiskey gifts, my man," Warrick reminded his cousin. He gripped one of the barrels and tipped it. It sloshed, showing some evaporation, but it was still very heavy.
"Hey, hey, party time," Juan insisted.
"It could have absorbed chemicals from the barrel and be undrinkable," Gil warned the teen.
"Damn, you know how to bring a brother down," Juan complained.
"I try not to," Gil insisted. He tapped the young man on the shoulder. "Since you found the cave, Juan, if this is whiskey and good to drink, you get two bottles on your 21st birthday," Grissom promised.
"Yes!" Juan shouted.
"Go out to the movers' trucks and bring back a dolly," Warrick suggested. "How many barrels did you find?" he asked after Juan was gone.
"At least sixty, but I haven't finished exploring," Gil answered. "This could be a Prohibition storage. The modern house was built before that time and it replaced a house that was built just before the Civil War."
"I know," Warrick reminded him. "That thought really turns you on."
Gil looked startled. "It excites me," he admitted, "but it's nothing sexual."
"Right," Warrick droned, stretching the word into its own sentence.
"It's not," Gil protested primly.
Warrick gave the other man's bottom a fond swat. "I like your kinks," he assured his older lover. "What do we do with the space?" Hopefully, the answer required no money.
"If we get wine from the muscadines, we could store it here," Gil suggested.
Warrick chuckled. "As I understand it, we have a two-year wait before we have our first crop."
Gil wrapped his arms around Warrick and sighed. "But we have the time."
Warrick cuddled the smaller man firmly to him. "Yes, we do," he agreed.
<><><>=============<><><>=============<><><>
"I should have been helping my boys with their house instead of looking at such a place," Renata declared as she sat down at Elaine's kitchen table.
Elaine hid a smile as Renata wound herself up.
"Benjamin Cross is a very bad man," Renata declared. "He distracts you."
Elaine placed a coffeecake before the other woman and went to collect the tea kettle. "What did he show you?" she asked once she'd returned to the table.
Renata poured the hot water while Elaine served the cake. As always, Elaine was generous with her slices.
"At first, he showed me two townhouses in Beacon Hill," Renata reported. "Loads of character and beautifully restored, but no room for a proper garden."
"Oh, none at all," Elaine agreed. "Where did you go next?"
"Tall Timber. It was all new but no character," Renata answered.
Elaine wrinkled her nose. "Why would he show you that? Those houses are not at all you. So where next? You were gone for hours."
"He showed me Generator's place and told me that before he met Colt that it was going to be his own home. I was very impressed," Renata admitted.
"I love Jenny's house," Elaine confessed. "If this wasn't mine to protect until I can unload it onto one of the kids, I'd live on Quail Lake. Did you see Beth's home, she lives three houses to the south from Jenny."
"Yes, I did," Renata assured her, "but she wasn't there."
"She's at the Dragonfly House, helping the guys," Elaine explained.
"Where I should have been instead of looking at that shameful house." Renata sighed.
"Shameful?" Elaine asked, absolutely intrigued.
"Four bedrooms and four baths in the main house and a single bedroom and bath in the guesthouse. It has a swimming pool, sunroom, formal dining room, and a study. The place is sitting on a bluff, surrounded by palm trees and has beautiful views of the lake," Renata recounted. "It's Mediterranean, has a courtyard in front and a second one outside the master bath, and a 3-car garage. Why would a single childless woman need such a house?"
"You're not going to be single and childless for long," Elaine assured her.
"Why do you say that?" Renata asked.
"It's open season on beautiful white women and in Silver Lakes the hunting season lasts 362 days," Elaine explained.
"I'm in no hurry," Renata stated. "I've kept telling myself that a new place will bring new opportunities, but I'm a little nervous about tasting the waters."
"That's 'testing the waters'," Elaine corrected.
"I know what I meant," Renata insisted. She pulled out her cell phone, which was playing Josh Dillon's "Work me, Woman".
"Renata," Hill announced to her phone. "Yes, David, I'm doing just fine. I'm looking forward to my first assignment next week." She looked puzzled. "Yes, David, even I have heard of Damien Coleman. There are precious few pictures of the man." She paused and seemed to be concentrating.
Elaine passed the other woman the notepad and pen she always kept handy. There was hardly a room in the house that didn't have paper and pen as she was an incessant list maker.
"Yes, I'll take the assignment. Where did he see my work?" Renata smiled. "Yes, my pictures of Ed Bradley at the Jazz Festival in New Orleans were very successful. Where is his home?" Renata wrote down an address. "Oh, it's across from the Tangerine. Yes, I know where that is. I've eaten there twice. I'll call a cab."
Elaine separated the keys to the Mini Cooper from her ring and gave them to Renata. Rayburn loved to tease Renata about how careful and courteous a driver she was and how that conflicted with her Italian roots.
Renata accepted the keys with gratitude. "No need to get me a cab, David, Elaine loaned me a car. I'll leave as soon as I can load up my equipment." She closed the phone and kissed Elaine on the cheek. "Thank you, Elaine. When I get back, I'll show you the pictures of that shameful house." She wrapped her coffeecake slice in a paper towel and took it with her.
Elaine smiled and leaned back. Renata was going to buy that house. The woman was making entirely too much fuss over a place that had been dismissed. Rayburn finished her tea as she had some time to kill before she had to be at the airport.
<><><>=============<><><>=============<><><>
The selection of the site was very important. An ill thought out site said he didn't care and he cared very much. She was worth all of his efforts.
There were windows. Tall windows. Windows that let in a good deal of sunlight, giving the space the "light and airy feel" the design shows went on and on about. The bars on the windows did not detract from that feel.
Too bad there was no view. The burnt and cracked wall of the building next door blocked what would have been a soul-stirring view of the desert. At least it stirred his soul.
He turned to the bed. It was a king-sized tribute to high French-style. The headboard was high, curved, and white-enameled and the center was padded and covered in white leather. He was rather proud of his selection when the far cheaper white wrought iron twin-sized bed would have gotten the job done. Again, it was about care. Did he care enough to make it perfect?
He did.
The four posters had tall gilded finials standing proudly over the arched canopy. The bed and canopy were a soft gray with lavender flowers and dark green leaves with yellow veins. The flowers were so realistic that they looked like a late spring breeze had blown them from a magnificent garden onto the fabric.
He retrieved the small refrigerator from his truck and plugged it in. By the time the interior was nice and cold, she would be here. The pretty scientist, whose meticulous and unshakeable testimony had sent the love of Harold's life to prison and Death Row.
Pamela had killed her husband and daughter to be fully unshackled and able to commit to him and that never would have happened with an ex-husband and child in the picture. He had ignored the prosecution's theory about gambling, inheritance, and insurance policies.
Sara Sidle had ruined their plans. She had ruined everything. Now she would take Pamela's place.
<><><>=============<><><>=============<><><>
Timothy "Speed" Speedle came up the tunnel from the plane and almost into Elaine Rayburn's arms.
"Timmy, you look like hell," Rayburn declared as she hugged him tightly.
Most people were timid in their hugs since he'd been shot. Alexx, and now Elaine, were the only exceptions. Tim's own mother could barely bring herself to touch him as she feared hurting him. The hug felt good. Real good.
"Maybe you can put a little meat on my bones," Tim teased. When she had been in Miami, Elaine and Tim had spent several evenings cooking for the team and gossiping. Apparently, Silver Lakes was quite the hotbed of intrigue. Now he could attempt to guess who the "names omitted to protect the guilty" were.
"Count on it," she promised. "You'll be staying with my next door neighbors, Esau Warner and Arthur Hellstrom."
"I don't want to be any trouble," Tim said uneasily. Hellstrom was very, very wealthy and Speed had bad experiences with rich and powerful people.
"Don't talk like that," Elaine insisted. "They're eager to meet you and make you welcome." She began guiding him through the Silver Lakes terminal toward the luggage area. "Your bike and your trunks arrived safe and sound this morning and they're at Storm Haven. That's the name of their house."
"What are they like?" Tim had to ask once they'd come to a halt at the American Airlines designated luggage carousel.
"I'm cuddly and he's smart," Arthur Hellstrom answered. He shook Tim's hand. "It's good to meet you, Speed. I'm Arthur, the cuddly one, and he's Esau."
"The one who spanks the cuddly one," Esau warned. The two men grinned at each other as if the day was a loss without some teasing. It made Tim very jealous.
He'd dreamed of that kind of relationship for himself, but the man he'd pined for was hung up on another man, who was hung on the first man's sister. Tim had decided to break free of what was becoming a toxic situation and take the best offer he could find. Silver Lakes had made the best offer.
Elaine, Esau, and Arthur collected Speed's luggage and moved him out to temporary parking and a minivan. Hellstrom did not look the minivan type. Yet, Hellstrom drove.
"You and I will be working together," Esau announced. "The lab will be field testing some of my ideas."
Speed almost chuckled. "Are we about to become mad scientists?"
"Become?" Elaine huffed. "All of my kids are mad."
Tim smiled. Rayburn referred to all of her people as her kids. It said a lot about the woman.
"The first time I tested one of my devices at the lab, I nearly died of embarrassment," Warner reported.
"Didn't it work?" Speed asked.
"Oh, it worked alright," Esau informed him. "It worked too well."
"Two gentlemen decided to redefine their relationship at the same moment Esau was demonstrating his infrared scanner called the Seeker," Elaine explained. "It was a defining moment for us all."
"Did the locals freak out?" Speed asked. He'd been assured by several people that the Silver Lakes attitude was relaxed around consenting adults.
"Hardly," Arthur assured him. "They were only mad they couldn't rush out and spread the juicy gossip."
"It was very juicy," Elaine assured him. "The larger man, who we'll call Larry, was being played by a very greedy young man we'll call Steve and the smaller and straight man we'll call Glen decided he'd had enough. Glen laid a kiss on Larry that nearly sent the heat sensing on Esau's equipment into overload. Steve was out and the neighborhood sighed in satisfaction."
Esau and Arthur sighed together like little girls and Speed chuckled. He began to relax. Even the sight of their large and gorgeous home didn't take away from that relaxed feeling.
"Welcome to Storm Haven," Esau said once they'd carried in the luggage and loaded it on the elevator. "You have the master suite on the second floor. Vivian Chang is also staying with us. She's on the third floor. You know her brother, Tom Chang."
Tim nodded. "Very intense Homicide cop from Seattle?"
"That's the one," Esau agreed. "He's a partner at Warner Interface now."
"Like Elaine, Tom and Brett have a houseful and we invited Vivian to stay with us," Arthur explained. "You'll like her."
They moved Speed's luggage from the elevator to his large and spacious suite. He was left to unpack. When he'd finished, Tim stepped out onto the terrace and looked around.
An eagle flew past the house and settled in a large oak tree where another eagle awaited it. They had a nest and eggs. Speed couldn't believe they would nest in a place with horses, a big house, a barn, puppies, and two little girls who were tearing around after the puppies. Even when the girls and puppies went around the tree, the eagles seemed undisturbed.
Tim stepped back into the bedroom. That was the closet door, that was the bathroom door, so what was this door? He opened it, found stairs and went up them. The stairs led to another spacious suite, which had doors that opened onto a gorgeous observation room.
There was a table, a telescope, and padded seats ringed the observation room. Splitting one wall of padded seats was a bookcase loaded with novels, technical manuals, maps, and children's books. Speed also found a half-bath with double-sinks, a closet, the top of the house's staircase, and the elevator.
Esau came up the stairs. "Everyone finds this room," he said simply. "It's a great place to relax and if you just have to work, the wireless connects just fine from here. I'll need to add your laptop to the security list."
Tim smiled. "You're making me too welcome and I have it on good authority that I'm a pest."
Esau crossed his arms and cocked his head. "That's funny because I have it on better authority that you're smart, passionate, and someone to cultivate as a friend. Since Elaine was the one to tell me that, then I have to believe her and not your phantom authority. Don't try to make up my mind for me, Speed."
Speed had never been put in his place so politely before. It must have been a Southern thing. "I'll do better," he promised. "Are those your daughters or Arthur's?"
"Arthur has the earlier claim, though technically they belong to Louisa, our housekeeper. Luckily, we can steal them anytime we want." Esau took his arm and led Tim down the stairs. "I hope you're hungry because Louisa has outdone herself. All Elaine had to tell her earlier was that you needed to put on some weight." Without taking a breath, Esau continued. "Let me tell you about this barbeque Elaine threw for some Las Vegas CSIs."
By the time they'd made it to the dining room, Speed was giggling over the children who had sworn eternal servitude to Doctor Grissom. He was surprised that Greg was still alive after that stunt.
"You can still see the artwork in his office," Elaine added. She indicated the chair beside her and Tim sat down. "Unless an emergency comes up, and I mean one with lives at stake, you have a week to acclimate and then I want you on Day Shift, that's eight to four with an hour for lunch. Swing Shift is four to midnight and Graveyard is midnight to eight. If you're hot on a case, then keep going, but after twelve hours you can't drive yourself home and we pay for your dinner."
"How do I get home?" Speed asked.
"Silverlode Cab company will take you home for no charge; you just have to show them your badge and sign the receipt," Elaine answered. "If the lab calls them for you, you don't even have to do that. It's a door-to-door service and ladies get a walk-up and a safety check. Eventually, you'll know all the cabbies by sight. I sure do."
"Mimi Stone owns Silverlode and is a stickler for safety," Esau explained. "She's also a neighbor and a total garden nut."
"She came out every day to see what the 'rich man from California' was doing to the gardens here." Arthur chuckled. "I couldn't seem to convince her that I was born in Silver Lakes. Mimi only trusted Esau when she asked about our plans."
"Now she's our biggest fan because of the work we did to restore the grounds," Esau reported.
Arthur uncovered about six of Speed's all-time favorite foods and started serving. They talked, ate, laughed, and ate some more. The gathering moved outside to the patio and the outdoor fireplace.
The two little girls, Rosalita and Carmen Cortez, showed up with what turned out to be Esau and Arthur's German Shepherd puppies. The girls were helping to care for the pups. Soon the girls were sharing tidbits about their town, school, and friends. Speed hung on their every word as the girls were adorable, observant, and funny.
Speed couldn't believe how much of the day had gotten away from him. He excused himself, called Alexx, and let her know he was comfortably settled, though he was sure Alexx was going to show up to check for herself. It was good to talk to his friend and personal mother hen.
Next he called Calleigh but planned to keep the conversation short. She had pleaded for him not to leave, while Alexx, the person Speed had expected to work the hardest to get him to stay, had simply said "follow your heart and do what is best for you".
"Calleigh, don't you get it?" Tim interrupted as Calleigh again tried to get him to come back. "I was in love with Eric and Eric could only see Horatio and Horatio married Marisol," Speed blurted. He could have kicked himself.
"Oh my God," Calleigh whispered. "I had no idea that you were in love with Eric. I knew Eric wanted --" she stopped. "You need to take care of yourself, Speed. I'm sorry if I've made that decision any harder."
"You were just being a friend and I should have told you the whole story to your face," Tim admitted. "I couldn't do it."
"Does Alexx know?" Calleigh asked, though she had to have known the answer to that.
"Yes, she knows. Alexx knew how I felt about Eric from the beginning and she told me, more than once, to look elsewhere." Tim sighed. "I wish to God I'd listened to her."
"Oh, Speed, I'm so sorry," Calleigh said softly. "I hope this is the new beginning you were hoping for. Don't lose my number."
"I won't," Speed promised, grateful he had not lost another friend.
"Where are you staying?" Calleigh asked casually enough so Speed wouldn't immediately assume she was planning a trip.
"In Storm Haven. That's Arthur Hellstrom and Esau Warner's place. It's in Cotton Row. Have you heard of it?" he asked in a teasing manner.
"That's like asking a lifelong baseball fan if they've heard of the New York Yankees," Calleigh responded. "You're in the middle of restoration heaven there. What's Storm Haven like?"
"Well, I haven't seen close to all of it, but I can tell you about what I have seen." Speed settled in to talk to his friend about one of her favorite subjects -- old houses.
<><><>=============<><><>=============<><><>
Sara had spent the last two days in the home of Henry Dayton as his guest. Her room was lovely, Henry could order food with the best of them, and the company was great, but the sense that she was hiding would not leave her alone. She'd managed to slip out while Hodges held Catherine hostage with one of his reports. Now she was heading to her own home and her own bed. She'd pick up her things later.
. . .
At last, she was alone and heading home. He had waited so long. So very long. His pretty scientist was going to be his at last.
. . .
Catherine couldn't believe Sara had skipped off and the woman wasn't answering her cell phone. Telling herself it was simple caution and not raging paranoia, she put in a call to patrol.
"This is Catherine Willows, I need you to do a check at 1115 Ronald Coleman Drive in Henderson. Sara Sidle. Make sure she comes out onto the steps before you leave. I want to make sure she is fine." Catherine closed the phone. "And then I can kill her."
End Chapter Three
PREVIOUS