Title: VIDEO KILLED THE RADIO STAR
Author: Michmak
Summary: An interesting new case for the CSI's to solve, and a continuation of the relationships established in BROKEN BOY
Disclaimer: The only characters I own are the ones I create for the purpose of this story. All the rest? Not mine.
Sara popped a couple of Advil into her mouth, quickly chasing them with a long swig of coffee from her thermos. "This is all your fault, Grissom!" she groused good-naturedly. "If you hadn't brought that champagne to breakfast this morning-"
"You'd have to complain about something else!' Grissom finished for her, smiling as he teased.
Warrick snorted. "Got you there, Sara."
Sara ignored him. "So, Grissom. Where are we walking to on this cold night that we can't get to by Tahoe?
"Not much further." Grissom shone his maglight at her, smiling. "Brass is already there, waiting for us."
"We're practically in the middle of the desert! Where in the world can Brass be? Wouldn't we see lights or-" her voice petered out as Grissom abruptly stopped at the edge of a small cliff. About 10 feet down, she saw several police officers and Brass, standing in the middle of it all, barking out orders.
She threw a glance at Warrick, who shrugged. "How do we get down there?" she asked, incredulously.
Grissom shone his flashlight around - "Ladders. Over there. You guys ready?"
* * * * *
Brass met them at the bottom of the ladder. "Hey guys. I have a name for you."
"Really? That was quick work. Did he have identification on him?" Grissom asked, as they followed Brass towards their victim.
"No ID. And whoever killed him chopped off his fingertips, so no fingerprints either."
"Than how do you know who he is?"
Brass grinned. "We all know who he is - we were just listening to him on the radio this morning. It's Randy Rivers, the DJ from the Rivers and Waters morning show. Recognized his face from all those big ads on the buses."
They stopped in front of the body. The youngish man was naked, stretched out carefully on the sand spread eagle. As Brass had indicated, Mr. Rivers was missing his fingertips. They had all been amputated from the middle knuckles up. There were several dark bruises on his chest and arms, and Grissom suspected that their victim probably had several broken ribs.
At this early stage, there was no obvious sign as to what had caused his death, although the beating he had obviously taken could have done it. Other than the vivid bruising, however, there were no stab marks, and obviously no gunshot wounds.
Sara had already started taking pictures, when Warrick quickly pulled on his latex gloves and leaned forward, staring intently at the face.
"Grissom, Sara. Look at this. He's got something jammed into his mouth." Sara carefully snapped a couple of photos, and watched with Grissom as Warrick gingerly pulled a short piece of video tape film from the victims' mouth. The majority of the blockage remained jammed down his throat.
"Well, well." Grissom said, looking at the three inches of tape hanging from Rivers mouth that now fluttered obscenely against the victims face in the light wind. "Video killed the radio star."
________
Author's note: And we're off! This story is a continuation of BROKEN BOY - you don't need to read it in order to follow this story, but it might help you to understand previous references and relationships that are already in existence here. Please R&R! Helps keep me motivated!
Author: Michmak
Summary: An interesting new case for the CSI's to solve, and a continuation of the relationships established in BROKEN BOY
Disclaimer: The only characters I own are the ones I create for the purpose of this story. All the rest? Not mine.
Sara popped a couple of Advil into her mouth, quickly chasing them with a long swig of coffee from her thermos. "This is all your fault, Grissom!" she groused good-naturedly. "If you hadn't brought that champagne to breakfast this morning-"
"You'd have to complain about something else!' Grissom finished for her, smiling as he teased.
Warrick snorted. "Got you there, Sara."
Sara ignored him. "So, Grissom. Where are we walking to on this cold night that we can't get to by Tahoe?
"Not much further." Grissom shone his maglight at her, smiling. "Brass is already there, waiting for us."
"We're practically in the middle of the desert! Where in the world can Brass be? Wouldn't we see lights or-" her voice petered out as Grissom abruptly stopped at the edge of a small cliff. About 10 feet down, she saw several police officers and Brass, standing in the middle of it all, barking out orders.
She threw a glance at Warrick, who shrugged. "How do we get down there?" she asked, incredulously.
Grissom shone his flashlight around - "Ladders. Over there. You guys ready?"
* * * * *
Brass met them at the bottom of the ladder. "Hey guys. I have a name for you."
"Really? That was quick work. Did he have identification on him?" Grissom asked, as they followed Brass towards their victim.
"No ID. And whoever killed him chopped off his fingertips, so no fingerprints either."
"Than how do you know who he is?"
Brass grinned. "We all know who he is - we were just listening to him on the radio this morning. It's Randy Rivers, the DJ from the Rivers and Waters morning show. Recognized his face from all those big ads on the buses."
They stopped in front of the body. The youngish man was naked, stretched out carefully on the sand spread eagle. As Brass had indicated, Mr. Rivers was missing his fingertips. They had all been amputated from the middle knuckles up. There were several dark bruises on his chest and arms, and Grissom suspected that their victim probably had several broken ribs.
At this early stage, there was no obvious sign as to what had caused his death, although the beating he had obviously taken could have done it. Other than the vivid bruising, however, there were no stab marks, and obviously no gunshot wounds.
Sara had already started taking pictures, when Warrick quickly pulled on his latex gloves and leaned forward, staring intently at the face.
"Grissom, Sara. Look at this. He's got something jammed into his mouth." Sara carefully snapped a couple of photos, and watched with Grissom as Warrick gingerly pulled a short piece of video tape film from the victims' mouth. The majority of the blockage remained jammed down his throat.
"Well, well." Grissom said, looking at the three inches of tape hanging from Rivers mouth that now fluttered obscenely against the victims face in the light wind. "Video killed the radio star."
________
Author's note: And we're off! This story is a continuation of BROKEN BOY - you don't need to read it in order to follow this story, but it might help you to understand previous references and relationships that are already in existence here. Please R&R! Helps keep me motivated!