Categories > TV > CSI > Deadman's Hand

When Kacey Speaks, People Listen

by OhSoIntricateLie 0 reviews

Category: CSI - Rating: G - Genres:  - Published: 2008-02-21 - Updated: 2008-02-21 - 1298 words - Complete

Discalimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Lyrics to Radioheads’ “Anyone can play Guitar” courtesy of 25,2006 5:45 p.m. The cell phone number is entirely made up by me, if it belongs to somebody it is entirely coincidental.

CSI Headquarters break room

Kacey Johnson sat in the break room typing away on her laptop with headphones on completely oblivious to the CSI team speaking outside with Detective Jim Brass.

“ So what have we got, Grissom,” Brass asked?

“Not too much. We have two possible subjects. One being Max Cane, a cook at Viva Las Vegas, who was Mrs. Johnson’s ex-boyfriend. The other one we still don’t know his name but we know he’s a tall male, about 6 foot, always wears something black, and has deep green eyes. Both suspects drive 2005 black Dodge Durango’s with huge dents in the back. We also have a tire tread and a shoe imprint, both a month old. Not much but it’s something.”

“I see,”Brass nodded, “Has anyone talked to the girl yet?”

“Uh yeah. I talked to her a little. Didn’t get anything that could help out of her unless you count she wants to be a CSI lab technician and that she loves Radiohead and the Police. Other than that no,” Greg answered.

Nick rolled his eyes and looked at Warrick who slightly shook his head.

“Thanks Greg, that’s a lot of help,” Grissom answered as he opened the door to the break room as everyone followed.

Everyone watched Kacey silently as she sat at her laptop and bouncing her head slightly to the music she was singing to.

Deessstiny, Destiny protect me from the world
Deessstiny, hold my hand protect me from the world

Here we are, with our running and confusion
And I don't see no confusion anywhere

And if the world does turn, and if London burns
I'll be standing on the beach with my guitar
I want to be in a band, when I get to heaven
Anyone can play guitar
And they won't be a nothing anymore

Growwww my hair, Grow my hair I am Jim Morrison
Growwww my hair, I wannabe wannabe wannabe Jim Morrison

Here we are with our running and confusion
And I don't see no confusion anywhere
And if the world does turn, and if London burns
I'll be standing on a beach with my guitar
I want to be in a band, when I get to heaven
Anyone can play guitar
And they won't be a nothing anymore

As the song ended, Kacey look up to see eight people staring at her. Taking the head phones off she looked at the floor, her face turning red.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Was I singing too loud? I was singing off key wasn’t I,” Kacey stammered.

“Wha? No, Miss Johnson. You sounded good,” Brass said as he walked over to the table and sat opposite of her.

“Hey, your that dude,” Kacey said as Sophia snickered.

“Sophia, when did you come in,” Grissom asked?

“ Anyway, you’re the dude who told me to go back under the crime scene tape. Your Jim Brass aren’tcha?”

“Well, yes. I am. How did you know that,” a surprised Brass asked?

“You fit the description of the police man my pawpaw always talked about,” Kacey replied.

“Pawpaw? Your grandfather wouldn’t be Cale Johnson, Head CSI of Las Vegas from 1982 to 1992, would he,” Brass asked?

Kacey smiled and nodded.

“That would be him,” she said, “ I noticed his name and picture in the lobby out front.”

“I thought he looked familiar when we interviewed him,” Warrick said, speaking up from the back of the room. He shook his head in disbelief.

“Mr. Grissom,” Kacey asked looking at the senior CSI?

“Yes Kacey"?

“Do you know my pawpaw. Because aren’t you like the head CSI guy around here or something like that,” Kacey asked tilting her head slightly.

“Something like that,”Grissom replied as a small smile crept across his features.

“Harrumph,” Brass cleared his throat as if to say 'Can we please get back to what we're supposed to be doing?'.

“Miss Johnson, the reason I came in here is to ask you some questions. If for any reason you don’t feel comfortable with a question let me know, ok?”

Kacey nodded.

“Ok. Mr. Stokes talked to your mom’s ex-boyfriend, Max Cane, today and from what Mr. Cane said you didn’t like him and apparently he wasn’t to fond of you.”

“How’d you figure Max didn’t like me,” Kacey asked?

“He called you a punk, Kacey. Mentioned you might be a bit of an emo too,” Nick stated as he walked over to the table and sat down on Kacey’s right.

“A punk? Emo? Good Lord, is that the best he can do? Yeah he doesn’t like me. Did he say I was why they broke up,” Kacey asked as she looked at Nick.

“Yeah, he also said you lie, like a dog,” the CSI at her right said raising his eyebrow.

Kacey raised her eyebrow in response to Nick’s and began to laugh.

“That’s funny. I may have been a factor of the break up but uh, it took two to do the tango and I didn’t take part in the dance.”

Brass raised his eyebrow.

"Um, in other words it took two to make the decision and I was one of the two," she clarified.

“Ok Miss Johnson you told Hodges that one of the suspects drove a black Dodge Durango with a huge dent in the rear. The woman who called in the crime, Ms. McIntyre, told CSI Grissom the same thing. CSI Stokes found that Mr. Cane drives a black Durango. The same model as the vehicles you and Ms. McIntyre described. Would you happen to know how the dent got there,” Brass asked?

“No, but I know the dent was there while he was dating my mom.”

“Ok, hey Kacey, the license plate didn’t match the numbers and letter you gave Hodges, “ Nick stated.

“Hey, I don’t like Max but he would never do anything to my mom. I mean yeah he was kinda upset at my mom for breakin’ up with him and they never really talked after it but in the end he just kinda accepted that maybe my mom wasn’t ready for a serious relationship right then. Ya know?”

“Yeah, understandable. But other than that we’re no where in this crime. Is there anything that happened, anyone you saw, anything that was suspicious that you remember,” Detective Brass asked?

Kacey sighed as she placed her hands over her eyes and closed them. Greg came over and sat next to the girl and gently placed his hand on her arm.

“Um, I’m sorry. I can’t think right now. Can I please go home? It’s been a long day and I just wanna go home , relax, and go to sleep,” Kacey said removing her hands to reveal eyes that expressed every emotion running through her mind. Pain, hatred for who killed her mom, and tired.

Brass nodded.

“Sure thing, Kacey. Do you have a cell phone number that we can contact you with,?”

Nodding Kacey waited for the detective to find a pencil and piece of paper before she answered.


Brass wrote it down and put the number in his pocket. Kacey gathered her laptop and head phones and put them in her bag and followed Greg out the door. As she passed through she received several smiles from the CSIs and a hug from Katherine. Nobody said a word as they watched 14-year-old Kacey Johnson walk down the hall.
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