( clucks tongue ) ( whinnying ) Let's go.
( clucking tongue ) ( whinnying ) What is wrong with you?
Easy.
A girl in a culvert pipe... at a highway construction site in the middle of an alfalfa field.
You got anything to add?
Nothing as poetic.
Just, uh... road crew took off at 3:00, body was discovered at 5:15.
Who found the body?
Our friend Flicka.
Well, there goes that theory. What's that?
Whoever finds the body is the first suspect.
SIDLE: Grissom?
What do you got?
The one thing you don't want to find at a murder scene.
A second body.
Captioning sponsored by PARAMOUNT TELEVISION
Who... are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who... are you?
Who, who, who, who?
I really wanna know Who... are you?
Oh-oh-oh Who... Come on, tell me who are you, you, you Oh, you! Who'd you like to start with?
Which one died first? Identical body temps and vitreous humor. Both women died approximately 12 hours ago.
My Uncle Phil used to say you can't kill two birds with one stone. All I can tell you is cause of death.
Injury to the cervical spine. Looks to be hands-on.
( cracking sound ) Somebody snapped her neck. She died instantly.
Now, the blonde.
Contusion to the forehead, not fatal.
Whatever cut her face, cut her arm.
I found glass in all the incised wounds except for these abrasions on her neck.
Fingernails maybe.
Possible sign of struggle.
I swabbed the abrasions for foreign DNA, sent it to the lab. Cause of death?
Severed Brachial artery.
She bled out.
Something doesn't seem right.
Look at the brunette-- elaborate tattoos. Perfectly dyed hair.
Multiple body piercing.
Tells me she craved attention.
Sure. The blonde, however... seems almost prosaic.
She doesn't even have pierced ears.
She didn't shave her legs.
A wildflower and a wallflower. So, besides time of death, what do our dead flowers have in common?
Found his SUV in the turnout after closing, so I scoped out the area.
He should've been wearing his orange vest.
Bullet looks like a through and through.
He bled out.
Hunting rifle.
Winchester 70.
What are you doing there? Checking liver temperature.
Estimating time of death.
Should be a total of five bullets.
Four in the magazine, one in the chamber.
All accounted for.
This rifle was never fired.
88.6. That's ten degrees below normal.
So he died approximately ten hours ago. That would make it about 2:00 p.m. Nick, Catherine, he's all yours.
Thanks, David.
Okay, let's see who you are.
Nevada license.
James Jasper. When's hunting season? Deer season opened last week. Record number of permits. Well, you were right-- he should've been wearing his orange safety vest.
Hunter lays in wait, spots a deer. Hunter fires, deer takes off.
The bullet keeps going until it stops.
No bullet in the body.
No bullet in the tree.
It's got to be somewhere.
I processed the crime scene. Lots of treads and tracks, but nothing salient. What about the culverts? I came up empty. I worked from the victims out till I hit the highway.
Nothing. Nothing to process, no follow-up, zip.
You have something.
Print lab I.D'd one of the vics. Blonde or brunette? Brunette. Joan Marks. At 18, she was booked for felony shoplifting. Lived at home. We got the address.
Warrick grabbed a Uniform. He's on his way there with a warrant.
Catherine!
You find the bullet?
Yeah.
But how am I going to get it out of there without damaging it?
You know what the textbook says-- if you're not 100% sure how to collect it, bring the whole thing in.
Yeah, I'll figure it out.
1,200 miles, and it's an older model. Driver doesn't get out much.
Registered to a Donna Marks. Could be our blonde. Related to Joan Marks. I'll check with DMV. I already did.
28 years old, blond, blue eyes, 125 pounds, five-six... Sound familiar?
That's her.
Uniform's talking to a neighbor. Donna is Joan's older sister. ( chuckling ): Well... We know what they have in common now, don't we? Genetics. House belonged to their mother. Donna's lived here alone since their mother died.
Joan lived in Henderson.
The real action's around back.
If the highway was the dump site, this is the primary.
Makes sense.
The blonde's lacerations were filled with glass. She went through that door.
From inside out.
To take out one of these doors, you need some serious momentum. No doubt. I'm going to collect the glass, and then I'll start with the door frame. How are you at solving puzzles? You're the puzzle guy. I have a hint for you. When they cool sheet glass, they lay it out on tin. So the side that kissed up to the tin will fluoresce under UV.
Still going to be a long couple of days at the lab. I got some imprints on these blood spots here.
Looks like the killer may have stepped in Donna's blood. Or maybe her sister stepped in it. There was some blood on Joan Marks' right shoe.
Hmm. That would place Joan at the house. And establish a timeline.
If Joan did step in Donna's blood, that would mean that Donna was injured and bleeding while Joan was still walking around.
Sweet and sour pork.
It smells fresh.
More sweet and sour.
Mostly sour.
Single servings in the back, spoiled.
Family-sized boxes in front, one or two days old.
What do you think? Increase in appetite or... perhaps a guest?
Universal remote.
She could do everything she wanted from this chair but cook a roast. Well, we already know she cooks like I do-- takeout on speed dial.
Pottery Barn, Lillian Vernon, Magnolia, Yafa Pen.
She's a catalog junkie-- we're on the same mailing lists. Catalogs, the Internet, mail order, takeout, 1,200 miles on her car.
Agoraphobic maybe?
Or she just doesn't like people?
Ah. That's you talking.
I'll haul in her PC, check her e-mail, look in on her social life.
Hey... the toilet seat's up.
There was a man here.
Nick.
Tell me what you got. Coroner said it's cut and dry. Bullet severed an abdominal artery. Trajectory? Front to back. Straight across. Round entered one inch to the right of the umbilicus. Bullet's with ballistics.
Vega's got the widow. They're ready for us. Jimmy left early, before I got up.
When he didn't come home for dinner, I just figured that he got himself a deer. Did he go by himself?
He took a day off of work in the middle of the week?
Well, um... we had both been laid off recently.
He was in insurance.
He was an auditor. And how was your husband handling that? Well, you know, he was okay. I mean, uh... We had to borrow money from his folks to pay the rent. That was hard on him. ( sniffling ) I have to call them. I haven't called them. I... Mrs. Jasper, was your husband an experienced hunter?
Yes.
Since he was a kid.
He always looked forward to deer season.
But, with the baby and all, he missed the last few.
It's me... ( sobbing ): isn't it?
I encouraged him to go.
I thought that it would help him take his mind off things.
Oh... What am I going to do?
Can you think of any reason James wasn't wearing a safety vest?
No.
I mean, he was always so careful.
That doesn't sound right.
If you're here about the blood on Joan Marks' shoe, I already told Sara. I'm backed up. I'm here about foreign DNA on Donna Marks' neck.
Oh.
Well, on that, I got an I.D.
You found a match in CODIS? Nope, but I ran a DNA profile on both victims. What do all sisters have in common?
DNA.
You're saying that Donna's sister scratched her?
( women yelling ) ( meows, hisses ) So, did I solve the case?
No, Greg, you didn't. But you've helped.
Hey, Brass.
I heard the database kicked out a temporary restraining order-- Joan Marks against her old boyfriend. I'll do you one better. The old boyfriend, Gavin Pallard, had one against her. Tit for tat. They both filed last month.
Want to find out why?
Don't mind if I do.
See this?
Didn't get this French kissing.
Joanie had a temper.
Punctuated her sentences by throwing furniture.
Made it hot, you know?
We'd break up to make up. What about the last time?
Look, since the whole TRO business, she'd been in and out of my house three times. Couldn't stay away. According to you.
When did you see her last? Yesterday. I dodged a coffee pot. She hit the road. What was she driving? My Thunderbird. I'd lent it to her, and used my bike. But, um... you know... I'd like it back now.
When we find it.
Did she tell you she was going to her sister's? No.
Why would she go there? It's oil and water. And Joanie liked action.
Real partier. Last party Donna went to was her third birthday. What about you?
You been to Donna's house recently? No.
Boring.
Was always glued to her computer.
Plus Joan thought Donna owed her rent and... the house was in both their names, so... May I... see the bottom of your shoes?
Why? Why not?
I like the shoes.
I like them enough to get a warrant.
I was just calling you.
You were? Yeah. Carved your bullet out of that hunk of tree. Ah... You know, a bullet's only this big. Y'all gave me a pound of redwood.
That's cottonwood. You should know. Heard you wanted Nick to chop down the whole tree. I did.
Tell us about the bullet now. Striations, lands, grooves? I found some discoloration on the bullet's tail. Check it out.
Ah. Oxidation. Yeah. Copper jacketed. The tail was exposed. Oxidation takes a lot more than 24 hours. Yeah. No way to backdate it, but it's definitely older than y'all's crime scene. ( knocking ) How's it going?
Well, we've got the wrong bullet, but the case still seems like a write-off. Yeah. Nothing we have says that it wasn't a hunting accident. Insurance policy, two months old. A million bucks goes to the widow. She was crying poverty when she was in the money? There's more. It wasn't purchased by Mr. Jasper.
She bought it? Monthly installments taken on Mrs. Jasper's credit card. He's in the insurance business, and she buys a policy behind his back.
We've got to find that bullet.
SIDLE: Donna Marks was a telecommuter. Liked to shop-- mail order-- over the phone. I retrieved lots of e-mail confirmations. If she shopped online, why did she place orders over the phone?
Need for human contact?
Without physical contact? She spent time in chat rooms, book clubs, home crafts, collected fountain pens.
Personal e-mails?
Only one buddy on her buddy list. Screen name's "Apollo." Pull up his most recent.
That would be three days ago.
"I know it sounds weird, but... my life began when I first heard your voice..." "When you said my name, it felt so right.
Did you feel it, too?"
It's easy to wear your heart on your sleeve when you're not looking in his eyes. He said her name, so their relationship must have extended beyond the computer.
So, what do we know about this "Apollo"?
( beeping ) You know that garbage-- those numbers at the bottom of every e-mail? Yeah.
It's actually a unique number that registers the location of the sender's terminal.
An address? Internet Protocol address. CSI has access. Seven different IP addresses means he used seven different computers.
That's strange.
Could be a network.
"23000 Ganza Avenue, Ely, Nevada.
Western Nevada Correctional Facility."
Her Greek god is in the slam.
( indistinct voices ) Like it or not, prison is a business.
This facility is privately owned. Contract with the state. Our aim is simple: customer satisfaction. The key to any successful business, huh? Word of mouth. A body in every cot. Criminals are cutting deals to get sent here. I imagine.
It's like a theme park.
More guys through the turnstile, more money we make.
So, as long as I'm in business, you're in business.
K'ching.
Are your inmates allowed to use e-mail anywhere else but here? No. Personal computers are prohibited.
But they're allowed to surf the web; send and receive e-mail? Only at these terminals. And all Internet activity is strictly monitored.
The blouse comes in Laguna Blue, Amazon Green and Tahitian Red, which is our most popular color.
How would you like that shipped?
UPS? Second Day Air? Overnight?
( phones ringing ) Something tells me state funds aren't your only source of revenue.
We have contracts with several retailers. Perfectly legal.
So, let me get this straight. I receive a catalog in the mail. I call a toll-free number to place an order, and I'm giving my personal credit card information to a "Hello, I'm doing 'Time-Life'" operator? Once the order's routed to the fulfillment center, only the retailer has access to it.
All right, let's cut to the chase. I'm investigating the deaths of two young women, one of whom was having a "relationship" with an inmate at this facility. I need to speak to that inmate.
His e-mail alias is "Apollo."
I'll check the log.
I'm sorry. I can't help you.
I can get a warrant. Won't do you much good. Why? Mickey Rutledge, AKA "Apollo," was released three days ago.
Hey.
How's the glass puzzle going? Still putting it together.
I'm just doing a trace on Donna Marks' clothing, and I came across this fiber.
Look at this cross section.
SIDLE: Triangular.
That means it can't be clothing fiber. Yeah, short and coarse. Car upholstery?
Yeah... But that still doesn't get us anything. We found both vics near the freeway. We've been thinking vehicle transport from the start. Well, it's from black upholstery. What color was the boyfriend's missing Thunderbird? I'll ask him... and his lawyer. The blood from his shoe was consistent with Donna Marks' DNA. He lied. He was at the house. Really?
What about the blood from Joan Marks' shoe? Also a match. Joan and Gavin both stepped in Donna's blood.
Fine. I went there. We already know that.
We're looking for, "Fine. "I went there... and..." My client went there after the fact. He was looking for his girlfriend-- didn't find her.
Right... he found a crime scene. Broken glass, a pool of blood. BRASS: But you didn't call 911. I was scared. I took off.
Besides, there was a restraining order against me.
Gavin, what color is your car? Your missing Thunderbird?
Blue. Why? Interior? Black. Did you find it? Not yet. But we will.
Okay, the tree is a point of reference. Yeah, and since the bullet didn't hit the tree, and the blood's to the west, then the through-and-through defines our search area.
The furthest drop of blood is here.
The spatter seems to be confined to a 45 degree angle.
So the bullet should be somewhere between your rope and mine.
Yeah, we've reduced a 360 degree crime scene to a 45 degree angle.
Congratulations to us.
Still a needle in a haystack. ( laughs )
Nick?
Yeah?
Let's just pack it up. The bullet couldn't have gone this far.
Hey. Saw your, uh... Tahoe. I didn't expect to see you guys back here.
Yeah, just tying up a few loose ends. Well, maybe this will help. Your dead hunter, James Jasper, didn't purchase a hunting license. Well, he was out of work. Maybe he was trying to save money. A license is 24 bucks. Hunting without one is a $1,000 fine and up to six months in jail. Whoa.
Well, that's not worth the risk.
Maybe he wasn't up here to hunt. We haven't heard a single shot all day. Where are these hunters that you talked about? Well, you only hunt deer at dusk and at dawn. Right, right, feeding time. It's... when they're out in the open.
What about other game?
This time of year, only deer's in season. You can take off those vests if you want.
No one hunts during the day, but the coroner placed Jasper's time of death at 2:00 p.m. Yeah. That's an odd time for a hunting accident.
Hey. Hey. Brass is holding the boyfriend on a TRO violation. I'm going back to the lab to process the prints we lifted from the toilet seat. Guy claims he was in and out. I'm thinking no time to make a pit stop. I processed the prints.
You did? They're not a match to Joan's boyfriend. What? But... we do have a match.
Donna's cyber-boyfriend?
I thought he was in jail. Released last week. His parole officer brought him in. You're fishing, I just got out of the joint. I was never at Donna's house. We found your fingerprints on the toilet seat in her bathroom.
What are you going to do, arrest me for flushing a toilet?
Well, unfortunately, I can't arrest you for lying.
Help me out here, will you?
Mickey, you have the right to an attorney. But, if you're not hiding anything, I suggest you answer their questions. ( sighs ) Look, we met over the Internet.
We had a lot in common. Donna understood my situation. When I told her I was getting out... well, she invited me over.
No one's ever brought me flowers.
She served takeout.
( chuckling ): What do I care? It wasn't chipped beef. ( chuckling )
How is it?
Sweet and sour pork. My favorite. So she invites you for lunch. Everything's great. And, somewhere between the fortune cookies and sunset... Donna and her sister are both murdered.
Thoughts?
( nervous chuckle ) I think the sister's a piece of work.
Soon as we finish eating, she shows up... ...with an attitude. This is my house, too! I'm paying the taxes.
Who the hell is this?
First thing I learned in the joint-- when inmates are fighting, you make yourself invisible. So I got out of there.
Six months ago, Donna Marks ordered a sweater and two scarves from Magnolia Apparel. You took the order.
I took 50 calls a day. How many of your callers invited you home and served you Chinese food?
When Donna placed her order for the clothes, she gave you her e-mail address, didn't she?
Yeah. She was lonely. She struck up a conversation with me. Reached out.
Hey... you know, I don't usually meet girls like Donna.
She was nice.
She was vulnerable. No social life, no friends, not even a cat. All she had was her work. She ordered from catalogs to give herself something to look forward to. You know, Mickey, I don't think your intention was to kill.
All of your priors are for nonviolent activities, right?
Look, I've been in the system. I know the law.
I admit I was there.
So what?
You know where to find me.
I'll keep my eye on him.
Joan's boyfriend, Gavin Pallard-- blood on his shoe and a TRO. Donna's boyfriend, Mickey Rutledge-- opportunity and a rap sheet. Both hid the truth... until confronted with the evidence.
Well, we know we have two liars.
Do we have a killer?
Hey.
Point of impact.
It's, uh... Sixty-... five inches from the base. So what does that tell us?
Well, Donna was five-six. If she was thrown through that glass, the point of impact would have been lower-- closer to the ground.
She had multiple incised wounds.
But the only contusion was on her forehead, suggesting that that's where contact was made. So she was standing upright when she went through the door.
She walked through it.
Are you saying it was an accident?
It's your science. Thanks. Nice work.
PD found Gavin Pallard's Thunderbird hidden off the 169, five miles from the dump site. Hook up with Auto Detail. Tow it in.
Radiator's cracked. Well, that might explain why Joan bought coolant twice in the last week from a convenience store.
We ran her credit cards. Well... whoever drove this puppy last filled up the radiator fluid. But, instead of coolant, they used water. Either someone unfamiliar with the car, or... someone in a desperate situation maybe. Radiator cap. I'll print it. Good.
Grab me a sample of fluid, too, will you?
( spritzing ) Gunshot residue.
Expect the unexpected.
GSR on the clothing means the victim was shot at close range. ( gunshot ) So now what? We're thinking murder?
Or suicide.
He never fired his rifle. What did he shoot himself with?
Okay. But, if he was murdered, we should have found some evidence of the killer at the crime scene. Yeah. Not to mention, whoever shot him would have been eyeball-to-eyeball. Who could have gotten that close Exactly. without Mr. Jasper putting up a struggle?
Somebody he knew.
I'm going to call on Vega, see if he's checked out Mrs. Jasper's alibi.
I'll meet you at the car. Okay. All right.
Hey, Nick. Hey, Sara.
Hey, how's your case going?
You ever try to print a radiator cap?
Smudge City. Yeah. Yeah, I know. It's impossible. But it's just a radiator cap, so give yourself a break. Thank you.
Hey, Sara... you gotta get out more.
So you got this water from a radiator? Yes.
Well, it ain't no Rocky Mountain Spring.
What is it, Greg?
Nasty sodium count.
Potassium, phosphorus.
You've got that look.
What did I say right?
STOKES: Okay.
Thanks for the info. We'll keep you posted.
Well, Mrs. Jasper's alibi checks out. She was at work from 10:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. Ate lunch at her desk.
She didn't kill her husband.
Murder for hire?
A pro would have shot him in the heart.
This guy was shot in the gut.
Bullet didn't even come close to his spinal cord.
Wait a minute, now. Abdominal injuries take time to bleed out, and it would have taken at least ten minutes for hemorrhagic shock to set in, and he would have been mobile? Right. But he never moved.
He was standing in front of this tree when he was shot. He didn't try to get to his car, get help... He just... sat down and waited to die.
Yeah.
Yeah, I see where you're going here.
His injuries and his behavior aren't consistent with murder. But they're not consistent with suicide either.
99 out of 100 suicides by gun... ...muzzle to the mouth, bullet to the brain. But there's always just that one.
Look, suicidals want it quick and painless. Bleeding to death is slow and painful. Not to mention, he never fired his rifle. No, the weapon we found was never fired.
That... that's a big stretch. He brought his rifle plus a spare?
He shoots himself in the gut, leaving himself time to hide the weapon. Yeah, but there's no blood trail. What did he do with the spare? Throw it up a tree?
How about the lake?
Yeah. Yeah, okay. Heads up.
I just marked our search area.
You know, even if your theory's right, we still haven't explained the insurance policy purchased by the wife.
Hey.
Metal on metal.
Hold up. Let me give you a hand.
Okay.
Right there.
Yeah. Yeah, I got it.
I got it.
Whoa.
Water pistol.
Well, we never found the bullet, but we found the gun.
( splashing ) Mr. Jasper committed suicide.
And the wife's out a million bucks.
Thank you.
Mrs. Jasper, you purchased a life insurance policy on your husband in which you are the sole beneficiary.
I don't know what you're talking about.
We have the actual application for the policy with your signature. Ma'am, you are aware that insurance policies exclude suicide?
Your husband staged his death to look like a homicide.
As a beneficiary, if you knew of his intentions to take his own life, that would constitute fraud. If I knew, I would have stopped him.
Jimmy was everything to me.
I didn't buy the policy. I didn't know about his plans.
Hi.
You want to explain this?
Sure.
Mrs. Jasper, when you claimed your husband's personal possessions, you signed a release form, yeah?
Well, I ran that same form through our Questionable Documents Lab, and I cross-checked your signature with the signature on the insurance application here.
It's not yours.
Your husband must have forged it.
I also checked with the insurance company.
Your husband opened the account.
Why?
I don't understand that. Why did he do that?
Because he knew that, if he had bought the insurance himself, it would have sent up a red flag. ( voice breaking ): So what you're saying is... that my husband killed himself for me?
Yes, ma'am.
Well, it may sound funny, but I'm proud of it. Took almost a year to put in my new fertigation system. Automatically mixes the fertilizer with the irrigation system. How about that? Economical and practical. What you're looking for is over here.
Cars are always overheating on this stretch, and everyone thinks water's free. What do you use in your fertilizer? Nitrogen, phosphorous and potassium? Standard 6-10-10 mixture.
Mr. Willoughby, would you mind if I fingerprint your spigot?
No one's ever asked me that before.
Thirsty?
I'm good, thanks.
Yeah, I wouldn't drink it either. I wouldn't even put it in my radiator.
I don't have all the pieces yet, Mickey, but, uh... I'll tell you what we do have. You're an ex-con. Get the hell out of here! Don't listen to her, Mickey. This is my house. This is my life! You're so desperate, you've got to get a date through the computer, then you end up with him. Pathetic!
We know that Joan scratched Donna. We also know that Donna died first.
I didn't kill her.
That's right, you didn't. You are so selfish! Stop it! Get your hands off me! No!
Donna's death was an accident. Agh!
( glass breaking ) But Joan went off on you. And, up to that point, you hadn't done anything wrong.
So what went wrong?
It wasn't my fault.
She's dead.
You're going right back where you came from.
( sighs heavily ) Rehabilitation was working for me. But you put a guy in that position... He's got to go all the way.
( Joan screams ) ( bones crunching )
You figured, if you hid the bodies, you'd be in the clear.
But you didn't have a car.
Joan did.
You could've just backed off, let Joan make the call.
( skeptical chuckle ) I would've landed myself right back in the joint. You don't know that.
Come on.
Who's going to believe a guy like me?
A guy like me.
( dialing beeps ) ( phone ringing ) Hey, it's Sara.
I was, uh... thinking... You want to go out... somewhere?
Captioning sponsored by PARAMOUNT TELEVISION int.