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Post by earthylady on Jan 6, 2009 21:31:55 GMT -5
Another great chapter JL. I really like how Emmie just jumps right into working.
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Post by jaglady on Jan 7, 2009 12:23:04 GMT -5
Thanks, Earthylady. Had a bug for the last day or two, but I'm going to post more as I'm able. Then I'm going to sleep.
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Post by jaglady on Jan 7, 2009 12:33:30 GMT -5
Chapter 6—Making a Reputation
CSI Ryan Wolfe settled into the armchair and faced his boss. “You wanted to see me, Horatio?”
“Mr. Wolfe” Horatio said methodically, “As the lab’s supervisor, I’m a little too close to Tyler to get involved with this case. But I can put you on it.” As he gathered his thoughts, he carefully explained to the CSI about the internet trafficking and how Tyler was on vacation for the remainder of the week.
Ryan looked at him thoughtfully. “Sure.”
The Lieutenant stood up. “As you know, Dan Cooper’s replacement just arrived today. I’m gonna need you to work with her on this. She was an FBI systems expert, so she should know what to do. Everything’s downstairs, so maybe this would be a good time for you to meet her.”
The first thing, Emmie decided, was to check wiring in the computer lab’s main console. She removed the jacket of her suit dress and draped it on the chair before putting two reference binders on the floors to kneel on. She then slid the binders forward and repositioned her knees on them, holding her flashlight in her fingers. She accepted dirt and dust as part of the job, but this main console seemed to have accumulated more than its fair share.
Horatio and Ryan stepped into the computer lab where Horatio had noticed that the paperwork was still spread out on the work table and the computer chair had been pushed out into the aisle. He and Ryan stepped forward to take a closer look. The Lieutenant smiled when he could only see a beige-clad rearend and legs sticking out from under the console.
“Miss Stockburne.”
Emmie became aware of voices and legs behind her. She kept her head down and quickly wiggled back out in time to see her boss. “Sir? Sorry, I was just looking at the wiring.”
Horatio never changed his expression. “That’s okay. Emmie Stockburne, I’d like you to meet CSI Ryan Wolfe. He’ll be working this case with you, so you two will need to talk. I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.” With that he left.
Emmie smiled and blushed at the young, handsome CSI who seemed almost as military as she did. “Hi Ryan. I’d shake hands with you, but I’m kind of filthy.”
“Hi Emmie. That’s okay.” Ryan looked to the brown-haired woman who was slightly taller than he was. “Glad you’re here. Tyler was really having a tough time.”
“You didn’t see my best side there, by the way” she kidded. “Well? I’ll just let you know that I reviewed the FBI printouts. How’s your knowledge of this area?”
“I can hold my own” Ryan said with a grin.
“That’s quite all right. I’ll take care of this side of it. Just tell me what you need.”
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Scott O’Shay breathed hard and paced sullenly in his dark, wood-paneled office, staring daggers at everything. Rick Stetler swirled his drink nervously and stared at him cautiously from the oak conference table. “Hey, Scott, I really don’t care what you do in your spare time. And how should I know how this thing got out?”
The blonde supervisor shot him an angry look. “Thank you for the affirmation, Stetler” he snarled. “Now since everybody knows you don’t have a real job over there, why don’t you start poking around and find out how this got out to a couple of loudmouths broadcasting from a van?”
Rick averted his eyes to hide his resentment. “Like I said, Scott, I don't know.”
Scott stiffened up and faced him. “Well dammit, somebody knew! My career's on the line now, and all Miami’s fruits and nuts are coming out of the woodwork. And the fact that the guy was killed right after he told THE WHOLE FREE WORLD doesn’t help me very much! Or you either, for that matter.”
The IAB agent looked away. “There’s somebody in the lab who might be able to help.”
Scott looked quickly at him. “Who?”
Rick raised his eyebrows and looked at him now. “We have a new computer tech.”
“How the hell is a computer tech gonna help us?”
“Scott, you’re not gonna believe it. I found out by accident, and she just started this week. Her name is Emmalyn PARR STOCKBURNE.” He shifted rather confidently in his chair. “’Stockburne’ and ‘Parr.’ Do those names ring a bell?”
Scott O’Shay nodded thoughtfully and sat down at his desk. “Judge Parr? Councilman Parr? Stockburne Holdings? And she's related to all of them? You sure about this?”
The IAB agent looked more sure of himself now. “That’s just the beginning. Caine hired her. He finally did something right.”
“And why aren’t you out there making nice to Miss Stockburne?”
“Working on it. These things take a little time.” Rick hesitated and shifted in his chair again. “And, well, she wasn’t exactly what I expected.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Rick took a deep breath. “You should see her. She’s an ex-Marine. She’s almost as big as I am, and she kickboxes.”
Scott smirked. “What. You afraid she’s gonna beat the crap out of you? Not that that would be hard to do.”
He glared at the supervisor. “I’ll work her. Don’t worry.”
The blonde smirked back at him. “Yeah, Stetler, you always had a way with the ladies, didn't you? Careful, or this one might punch your lights out, too.”
Rick found it harder not to make a snide comment. “I can handle her, Scott. I just have to do this away from Caine, because if he finds out, you know what’s gonna happen.”
Scott pursed his lips and looked at the wall. “What else do you know about her right now?”
Rick shrugged. “Husband was a Navy Seal. Died about a year ago. No kids. Last job was with the FBI satellite office in Birmingham. Lived here about a month now.”
The blonde supervisor approached him, tapping his fingers on the conference table as he gathered his thoughts. “Here’s what you do. Saturday night’s coming up. I think Miss Stockburne is lonely and might like to go to dinner and see a little of Miami at night. Let her know this really is a great place. Very casually bring up the subject that you have a friend who needs some help. And for God’s sake, you don’t have to tell her everything. Get some names and direct numbers. Joe Parr would be a good start. Find out who she knows in Washington and where. Don’t be too obvious about it.”
“You’re talking to me like I’ve never done this before!”
“I also know how you screwed up the thing with Yelina! Now shut up! Get those contacts. Oh, and, uh, make it worth her while, Rick. Anything she wants, let her have it. If money’s a problem I’ll reimburse you.” Scott raised his head. “And if that doesn’t work, do you still have that remote-controlled camera I gave you?”
“Yeah. What about it?”
He looked at Rick firmly. “Invite her back to your place for some drinks or something. The more the better. Make her nice and relaxed. The camera is just in case she needs a little more, uh, convincing somewhere down the road.”
The IAB agent raised his eyebrows. “Why? She’s not married or a police officer.”
“No, but some pictures could be helpful in the future. Really, really get to know her. Besides the fact that she’s an ex-Marine and could probably beat the crap out of you. What does she like? Who does she keep company with? And how well does she really know her way around that computer system?”
Rick breathed deeply. “I’ll take care of it.”
“And dammit, this time, watch that temper of yours!”
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Post by earthylady on Jan 7, 2009 14:34:08 GMT -5
Hope you're feeling better JL,I had a bug myself last week. Aww,Emmie blushes when she meets Ryan. Rick and Scott are two snakes.
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Post by jaglady on Jan 7, 2009 15:23:04 GMT -5
Thanks, Earthylady. Just a little hard to match up details to finish my current work. Yeah, I sort of had to make that steely-eyed Marine blush at Ryan. Next, the mystery deepens at who might have killed our talk show host.
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ladytaz29
Rookie Officer
Caution..Must wear flame retardent materials..
Posts: 377
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Post by ladytaz29 on Jan 7, 2009 22:51:05 GMT -5
Hope you are feeling at least a little better JL. Wonderful and sweet meeting between Emmie and Ryan.
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Post by jaglady on Jan 8, 2009 19:18:31 GMT -5
Thanks, everybody. I felt well enough to work on my other story. Hope to have that next chapter out this weekend.
In the meantime.... --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 7—The Sound Technician
Calleigh stepped into the lab where Maxine Valera was hunched over a microscope. “Hey Maxine. Got your page. What’s up?”
Maxine Valera looked up from her work. “The Bohannon case? Got one hit from CODIS from those epithelials you took out of the van's wiring. Pretty difficult to sort out. Probably a lot of sound techs worked on it. But then there was a Mark Wycoffe, and an unknown male not in the system. This one showed up more clearly than all the others.”
Calleigh studied the printout and raised her eyebrows. “Okay. I guess it’s time to see who else was in there.”
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Delko looked firmly at the older man who had a salt-and-pepper goatee. He wore a black, faded WION tee shirt and had his graying hair in a ponytail. He seemed a bit confused as to why he was in the interrogation room.
Delko sat down and glanced at the case file before addressing the man. “Mr. Wycoffe. I understand you’re the program engineer and that you were doing the Bo and Beckwith show when Derrick Bohannon was killed.”
Mark Wycoffe fingered his thinning beard and nodded. “Yeah. I’m not sure what I could do for you, though.”
“You can tell me what happened. And then we’ll go from there.”
The man dipped his head a little as he drummed his fingers tensely on the black table. “Where do you want me to start?”
Delko looked at him more firmly. “That’s a QPS truck. It doesn’t belong to WION, right?”
“Right. Cheaper to rent.”
“How about starting with when you set up for the show?”
Mark Wycoffe gathered his thoughts. “We rolled the truck in at noon for setup. Bo and Beckwith have the afternoon drive time, which is three to six, so I always have to do a sound check and make sure everything works.”
“What do you do in a sound check?”
“Everything. Top to bottom, especially since it’s not our van. Start with the cue monitors. Then power and power backup. Then a physical check. I have to be careful because the smallest flaw in the sound equipment can screw it up.”
“Did you see anything unusual when you checked the sound room? Anything out of place? Any wires tampered with? Any modifications in the sound boards or tables?”
The man looked at Delko in surprise. “No! All I do is sound check and get the show going. I don’t even let anyone in there when I’m inspecting or doing sound check.”
Delko paused as he glanced at the open folder again. “And you said the truck rolled in at noon?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
Delko pulled out a piece of paper. “This is a permit from the Miami-Dade Department of Parks and Recreation. This didn’t authorize you to have the QPS truck in there until one in the afternoon. Did you violate that permit, Sir?”
Mark Wycoffe glared at the CSI. “Hell no! Let me see that!” He held his weathered hand out as Delko showed him the copy.
“So did you violate a city ordinance, or did you just lie to me, Mr. Wycoffe?”
He didn’t answer.
“Okay. Since you don’t remember, let’s try this. Did you say that you don’t let anyone in there while you’re doing sound checks?”
“Yeah.”
“I have a sworn statement from Paul Galloway, the general manager, who said his son Keith was in there at the same time as you. Was there anybody in there while you did your sound check?”
“Yeah. Keith isn’t supposed to be there. But he’s a big electronics buff, so I let him in quietly and told him to stay out of the way. You know, just watch.”
Delko nodded thoughtfully. “Was Keith out of your sight at any time?”
Mark Wycoffe sniffed. “Yeah. Plenty of times. I have to step outside the van and help run cables. The contractors don’t always do it right. Keith isn’t an idiot. He knows not to touch anything. We’re practically family in that station.”
“Really? I heard Mr. Galloway talk about how easy it is to fire a talk show host.”
“Maybe a talk show host, but not a good sound engineer. I’ve been with that station for over ten years now. If WION fired me today, I could have a job somewhere else tomorrow. Especially here in Miami with all the clubs and the production studios.”
“Fine. Think you can tell me the truth about what happened during the Bo and Beckwith show that day?”
The man glared at him. “Yeah. Everything was fine. I watched the cues, and I didn’t notice anything unusual, until….”
“Until what?”
Mark Wycoffe looked troubled and breathed deeply. “I adjusted the base on the soundboard." He motioned with his left fingers. "The last two slider knobs on the left. I’ll show you if you want. When I slid the knobs to just the right level, I heard this really weird humming sound. Subsonic. Sounded like an electrical interference of some kind. You know, like the old TV sets when somebody would run an electrical appliance and the picture wouldn’t work. The system went down for a second before the backup generators kicked in. Next thing I knew, John Beckwith said ‘Well I guess you’re bored by all this….’ I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but then next thing I know, John shuts off his mike while we’re still on the air. I could see from the cue screens that Bo was slumped over.”
Delko never changed his expression. “There’s another thing that’s bothering me, Mr. Wycoffe. Didn’t you say that you check the van thoroughly, but you didn’t notice this? You say you care, that the smallest flaw in the sound equipment can screw it up.” He produced the photos of the freshly bored holes in the underside of the console tables. The sound engineer studied the photos. “I don’t know anything about that” he protested.
“And you won’t lie about your assault and battery charge, which got you fired from WION the first time? That’s how we could match your DNA and fingerprints.”
Mark Wycoffe just looked at Delko. He had no answers. He finally sighed.
“Mr. Wycoffe, you’re looking at Murder One. That’s twenty-five to life, a lot longer than an assault and battery. Now why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
The man sighed. “Paul Galloway wanted me to babysit his kid while I did the soundcheck. That kid’s a nut case. This is the same kid who set up an electromagnetic field in his dorm room. He got kicked out of his college for doing that. So I said ‘Fine. Just stay out of the way and don’t touch anything.’ And yeah, he was out of my sight for a little while. Hey. I got a good job, I spent years keeping my nose clean. That A&B is in the past. And the kid is what he is. Kind of a Momma’s Boy, if you ask me. But if he has anything to do with this, it’s news to me. And yeah, if you want to know, for the record, I DID notice those holes drilled in the bottom of the console. But I’m trying to keep my nose clean and didn’t say anything. The radio station will pick up the tab for the damage.”
“What’s under that console?”
“Switches. Conductors. Plugs.”
“Would Keith Galloway know what to do with a soundboard?”
“It’s actually Keith Salter. Stepson. And maybe. I mean, the kid’s smart, and the kid’s bored. Really dangerous combination.”
Delko nodded as he stood up. “I’m gonna need the tape of that show. And I’ll need to talk to Keith. You’re not off the hook yet, Mr. Wycoffe. Stay close.”
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Post by earthylady on Jan 8, 2009 22:44:49 GMT -5
Glad you're feeling better JL. Good chapter,awaiting the next.
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Post by jaglady on Jan 9, 2009 18:48:52 GMT -5
Thanks, Earthylady. Me too. So, here you go. ;D
Chapter 8—The Art of Intimidation
Ryan stepped into the computer lab to find Emmie Stockburne proudly wearing her new powder blue lab coat and her dangling ID lanyard, clicking dutifully at the keyboard and transfixed on the main monitor. “Morning, Emmie!” he greeted. “How’s it coming?”
Emmie turned her head toward the hazel-eyed CSI. “Hi Ryan. Great, now that I’ve got some field coffee in me. I’m actually running a security sweep on this right now. Looks like Tyler hasn’t had a chance to do that since Dan Cooper left.” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I dug up on here.”
Ryan stood next to her and watched the main monitor. “What kind of stuff?”
As the cybertech stood up and studied the console, she bit her lip in deep thought. “Well, I had a chance to crawl under this thing again, and I’ll show you what I found.” She shone her black flashlight behind the main console. “This time I pulled the whole desk forward a bit. See that?” she said to him, pointing to a plain gray plastic box hugging the back of the console itself, holding all the plugs and modems. “I didn’t spot this yesterday, but I came in early and had a chance to really get my hands into everything.”
Ryan nodded as he leaned in that direction. “What is that?”
“Descrambler. Looks like the homemade variety, at least from here. And I saw that the security software looks like it’s been, uh, altered. Somebody knew what they were doing.” She clicked her flashlight off and put it in her lab coat pocket. “I’m gonna have to shut the system down for a good half hour so I can unplug that thing and wire it back up properly. You’ll probably want me to bag and tag some of this for you.”
“Sounds good” Ryan agreed. “I’ll need that box and probably those cables. Anything that might have prints or DNA on it. Got replacements?”
She smiled. “Either in the supply cabinet or in my tool case. Incidentally, Lieutenant Caine wants to introduce me to everybody in a little bit, so that would be a good time to tell them the system is gonna be down for maybe a half hour or so.” She chuckled. “Maybe this time I can work on it without mooning the crime lab again.”
Ryan laughed. “Oh, don’t worry, we didn’t mind.”
Emmie laughed and averted her eyes. “That was so embarrassing. I was trying to set an example on my first day.”
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IAB agent Rick Stetler strode proudly off the elevator, headed straight toward the computer lab. He paused when he heard a sound that was distinctly out of place.
Through the lab’s entrance he clearly saw CSI Wolfe smiling down at Emmie Stockburne. Rick could also barely hear her laughter. It was a musical kind of laughter. It didn’t sound to him like two co-workers discussing a case. He huffed and his eyes blazed as he walked faster.
“Wolfe! Come here!” a voice barked.
The sharp command stunned both Ryan and Emmie as both whipped their heads in the direction of the lab entrance where a furious IAB agent stood, hands on hips, the better to show that badge.
“Be right back” Ryan assured her, not so confident in his voice.
Emmie watched through the glass as Ryan faced up at Rick who stood with his hand on one hip, always keeping that badge visible, and pointing upward with the other hand. Ryan appeared to shake his head and chuckle in disbelief until Rick lowered his head and raised his eyebrows firmly, determined to make his point. She could see Ryan huff and finally lower his head, turning back toward the lab while Rick watched him, hands still on hips, glaring after him.
A much humbler CSI nodded at her. “Emmie, I’ll be back. I have to take care of something.”
She looked up in surprise. “Sure. Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” With that he left as Rick’s blazing eyes followed him all the way out of sight.
Satisfied that Ryan was safely out of his way, Rick resumed his high-and-mightiness as he strode into the lab, sitting down in the extra office chair and facing her. “Morning, Emmie!” he said rather cheerily.
Emmie looked at him warily. “Morning Sir. Everything okay with CSI Wolfe?”
Rick narrowed his eyes in the direction of the door. “Yeah. Just some police business.” He then gave her a softer look. “So, what are your plans for Saturday night?”
She shrugged. “Not much. Unpack some more, feed my cat, email some old acquaintances.”
“You can do those any time. The chief asked me to personally take you out for a sort of a welcome. If Saturday night works for you, then it works for me. Any preferences?”
“I don’t know Miami too well yet. I like seafood, though.”
Rick smiled at her. “Great. What time should I pick you up?”
“Actually, I don’t even live in this county, and I don’t want you to have to drive all the way. Okay if I meet you there?”
“Fine. I can do it that way. How about The Silver Palm? It’s right on the shore, and they have a live band out on the veranda. I’ll make six o’clock reservations. Sound good?”
“I don’t want you to fuss like that over me, Sir.”
He put his hand up. “Call me Rick. And it’s no problem. Part of my job. I’ll give you directions.”
“Don’t bother, Sir, uh, Rick. I’ll Mapquest it from my place.”
“Okay then. See you later.” As he spoke, his eyes discreetly scanned her work station to gather more intelligence about her. Quantico letters. A kickboxing championship. He then spotted a picture of her in a red ball gown, genuinely happy, standing next to a man he assumed was her late husband in his medal-encrusted Navy dress uniform. It made him swallow and blink again.
Rick realized at that moment that he bore an uncanny resemblance to Emmie’s late husband. This was going to complicate things.
He quickly gathered himself. Before getting up to leave, Rick smiled again and gave her a flirtatious wink.
Emmie just stared after him. Something was very wrong about this.
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Ryan Wolfe sat down, facing Rick at his desk. During his time as an IAB agent Rick had made intimidation into an art form. He folded his hands and leaned forward, glaring at the CSI.
“I’ll say this to you just one time, Wolfe. You are to maintain professional standards at all times. You’ve been briefed about the fraternization policy between armed officers.”
Ryan tried desperately to stand his ground. “Emmie Stockburne is a tech, and we WERE discussing business” he protested. No matter. It always seemed like his resolve melted in front of Rick, making him easy prey.
“That’s not what it looked like. You seem to have forgotten that you’ve been skating on thin ice since your little gambling incident. Do I need to remind you that if it weren’t for Lieutenant Caine pulling favors you’d still be smiling pretty on TV with what’s-her-face right now? So I suggest that if you don’t want to find yourself back out there, stay the hell away from Miss Stockburne unless it’s strictly professional. Do you understand?”
Ryan dipped his head and pursed his lips.
“Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
Rick narrowed his eyes at him. “Get the hell out of my office!”
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csikt
Rookie Officer
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Post by csikt on Jan 9, 2009 19:31:53 GMT -5
This is a really good story! I feel like it is an actual episode! Great job, and looking forward to the next chapter ;D
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