nickngreg | Part Two of "A New Perspective" (Reply)

All the same warnings and ratings as part one.

Treading Water

The morning broke cloudy and cold. Not the sort of day Nick wanted to spend in the water. Still, pursuing this had been his idea, he couldn’t just back down now. “Aren’t we going to freeze out there, G?” Maybe if it were Greg’s idea to call the days surfing off, it wouldn’t seem so bad.

“We can wear wetsuits.” He smiled at Nick’s discomfiture. “You’ll see. You’ll be fine.”

Struggling into the tight fitting neoprene garment didn’t measure up to Nick’s version of ‘fine’, but at least he was warm. The surf was a lot choppier than yesterday as well, making paddling out a work out. Greg complained good-naturedly that the surf was good, and here he was being a duck; Nick ignored him.

“See anything worth sitting here for?” he asked. “Yeah. I do,” answered Greg, smiling at Nick.

“Geek.” Nick teased gently. “Pay attention here. We figure this out early, you can get that surfing in you wanted.” That was enough incentive to get Greg concentrating. The buildings on the other side of the highway were too far away to make out any real features.

“Did anyone mention seeing field glasses, or a hand telescope?” Greg was joking, but it was a valid point. There was nothing there to see. It didn’t make sense.

“Well, if we can’t see anything, we have to assume that Buoy couldn’t see anything either.” Greg paused to gather his thoughts. “So if he wasn’t trying to see something, maybe he wanted something, or someone, to see him.”

“Where are you going with this, G?” It was a logical leap of thought, but to what end?

“Think about it, Nick. It’s empty out here. No one around, but still in plain sight.” Nick was beginning to understand.

“Yeah, I see what you mean.” He really did have to tell Grissom about this when they got back. Their boss seemed to get a kick out of Greg’s intuitive leaps, and this one was a doozy. “It’s a perfect place for a private conversation, as long as both parties know how to surf.”

“This is a surfing community, Nick. I would imagine most people here surf, or have surfed well enough to paddle out and play decoy.”

“So the girl was his look-out. His guarantee that the person he was meeting couldn’t pull a fast one.” Not that it had turned out so well for her.

“She’s the key.” Greg stated the obvious. “If we can get her identity, it will probably lead to Buoy.” Nick looked skeptical. “Come on! He wouldn’t have asked just anybody to do this. It had to be someone he trusted…trusted with his life.”

Nick conceded the point with a grunt. “How likely is it, you think, that the sheriff will tell us who she is?”

“Better question…how likely is it that they’ve made any progress on figuring out who see is?” Greg pulled his legs out of the water, balancing on his knees. “We done here for now? ‘Cause the waves are tasty, Nick…let’s go grab some!” Receiving a nod from Nick, Greg paddled into position to catch the next set. Nick stayed were he was, lost in his own thoughts, playing ‘buoy’ while Greg made up for lost time.

Lunchtime found them on their way back at the same restaurant. At several intervals on the way, they could see political posters being stapled to any available surface. “Look at the guy on the poster, Nick. It’s that guy from the beach.” Greg was startled. Startled Greg was one of the best looks for him, in Nick’s opinion.

He looked away from Startled Greg to take in the poster. Sure enough, it was Newcomer, the annoying guy that had checked out Greg just yesterday. It seemed a lot longer, somehow. “Interesting. I don’t imagine he’s going to win a debate with the sheriff using words like ‘nip’, do you?” Nick was having a hard time morphing the boardhead from the beach with the candidate for Sheriff on the poster.

They made their way into the restaurant, still debating the relative intelligence of the random surfer. Greg was affronted that Nick could think so little of his brethren. He had no doubt that Nick believed him to be intelligent. He was a genius after all. How could he believe he’d hang around with idiots. Really.

Nick decided that outraged Greg was every bit as delicious as Startled Greg. Maybe even more so. It made him want to do lot’s of things that could be considered inappropriate in public. The waitress smiled at them, and seated them at the same booth as last night, all the way in the back…nice and private.

Nick was contemplating the possible ramifications vs. benefits of kissing Greg in public when the sheriff walked in. With a sigh, he shelved the idea of making out in favor of getting a little information.

“Stokes, Sanders,” Sheriff Prescott gestured towards the empty chair next to Greg. Taking the hint, Greg pushed it away from the table, indicating the man could sit. “The day been less exciting than yesterday for you?”

“All quiet for us, Sheriff. Any luck finding out who our unfortunate girl is?” Greg asked. The sheriff shook his head. “We put her prints in the system, maybe L.A. will tell us something. We’re waiting for the coroners’ people to drive out to get her. Should be here in a couple of hours.” He couldn’t resist a jab at the two troublesome outsiders. “We don’t have all the fancy stuff Sin City has. We’re just a small town here.”

Greg was surprised. “You don’t have access to AFIS? I thought all of California was linked.” The sheriff shifted uncomfortably. “We don’t have the computer system in place. The funds have been allocated by the state, but we have to match them one to one and well, we just haven’t done it yet.”

Here the sheriff paused, “I did a little checking up on you two.” Seeing the lack of surprise, the sheriff smiled. “Expected that, did you? Somebody named Ecklie had good things to say about the both of you. Seems like you know your stuff. He even offered the help of your lab, as a professional courtesy.” He laughed again at the raised eyebrows of the other men. “I take it that doesn’t sound like him?”

“Not unless there’s something in it for him.” Greg muttered. “He’s not that bad,” Nick defended. “He’s a politician. He does what makes the lab look good. Helping out, well it looks good when the press gets hold of it. And they will. You won’t be able to keep it quiet very long.” Nick wondered how the sheriff would take that statement. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“That what you think I’m trying to do, Stokes? Sit on this until it all just fades away?” Preston’s face was blotchy with anger. “I’m a cop. Just a jerk-water cop, sure…but still a cop. Maybe this will lose me the election.” Seeing the embarrassment on Nick’s face, he continued. “Yeah, I know that’s what you’re thinking. If I lose, so be it. I’ve done a good job, as good as I could. I won’t do less for this girl.”

Nick held up placating hands. “Whoa, there. I’m not implying anything. We’re strangers here, and you have your own ways of dealing with things. Just asking, nothing more.”

The sheriff sighed. He hadn’t slept and his temper was regrettably short. “Yeah, no problem.” He shifted his big gun belt around, seeking a comfortable spot. “Since Mr. Ecklie says I can use the help of your fancy lab, I’m taking the chance that means I can use the help of his investigators too.” Now it was Greg’s turn to sigh. Nick was going to be happy, but he could kiss the rest of his vacation goodbye. “How fast do you think we could get a name back if you send the prints to your people?”

As predicted, Nick’s grin was blinding. “If she’s in the system, we’ll have a fairly immediate answer. You have a secure fax?” He was already pulling his wallet out to pay for the lunch they hadn’t finished.

“Yeah, we do. I’ve got her ten card in my office. We can send it from there.” He led the way out into the still gloomy day.

The Sheriff’s department turned out to be a storefront on Main Street. Just a small room, with a holding cell and a couple of old wooden desks. Seated at the nearest desk, the deputy pecked on a computer keyboard. “Bob, let this young man at the computer for a minute. We’re going to run the prints we got over to the Vegas crime lab.”

With seeming reluctance, Bob did as he was asked. He wasn’t happy about having outsiders come in and take over his case. He could solve it, and he would. In two years, it would be Bob Martin sitting in the Sheriff’s desk. He was sure of it.

Sheriff Preston handed the ten card to Greg. “Go ahead, son. Send them off.” Greg took out his cell and dialed Mandy’s number. Setting it to speakerphone, he waited for her to pick up. “Hey, Greg!” she chirped. “You’re supposed to be getting burnt and making out with Nick.” Nick flinched at that, but it wasn’t as though they were a big secret. He manfully avoided looking at the sheriff or deputy.

“I wish. I’m sending a ten card on the secure fax. Go wait for it, okay?” He waited while the print tech agreed. “Run it, then call me back on my cell, okay? I’ll be waiting, so if you can, run it fast?”

“You got it. Go ahead and send. I’ll talk to you when I have results.”

“Thanks Mandy.” Greg closed the cell and sent the fax. Now all they could do is wait.

It took Mandy about twenty minutes to call back. Twenty minutes where the sheriff tried to ask in twenty different ways if the print tech had been kidding about the making out remark. He knew it was a brave new world. He knew that, but he wasn’t really comfortable with it. Maybe he should step down. Let someone younger, more current take over. But this was his town, and he loved it and all the people in it. He wasn’t ready to walk away from them just yet. He was relieved to be distracted from his own thoughts when the cell phone rang.

“Yeah, Mandy. What do you have for me?” Greg listened for a minute, nodding. “Can you fax them back to me? The numbers’ on the first sheet I sent you.” He listened again. “Good. Thanks, I really appreciate it. Listen; can you thank Sara for me? I appreciate the info she found.” More listening, this time accompanied with a dark blush. “Just thank her for me, okay? And thanks to you again. I’ll be in touch.” He hung up, grinning sheepishly at Nick.

“She’s got a name, and Sara got a record for us. She’s sending them now.” He didn’t feel the need to explain the blush. He’s tell Nick when they were alone, but not in front of the sheriff and unfriendly deputy. He was the uncomfortable focus of all three of the other men’s attention until the squealing of the fax machine drew their eyes to it.

Reading over each other’s shoulders as the picture and information spooled out from the printer, Nick and Greg exchanged a look. “We need to find Chris,” said Greg, just a little smugly.

“Dude,” was all Nick had to add.