CSI: Crime Scene Investigation: Mortal Wounds

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The siren's squeal split the morning, the flashing blue-then-red-then-blue

dashboard light reflecting off other cars as the black Chevy Tahoe weaved its

way through rush-hour traffic on US 95. The sun was rising orange and bright,

tinting the clouds pink, and the air conditioning within the SUV was already

grappling with the July heat.

In the passenger seat sat Gil Grissom, graveyard-shift supervisor of the Las

Vegas Criminalistics Bureau. In the driver's seat was Warrick Brown -- rank

CSI3, just one notch under Grissom -- and in back was another member of their

team, Sara Sidle, rank CSI2. Warrick sawed the steering wheel right and left as

he dodged between cars, his expression impassive. He might have been watching

paint dry.

Grissom's boyishly handsome features were slightly compromised by the gray

encroaching on his brown hair, and crow's feet were sneaking up on the edges of

his eyes, frown lines etching inroads at the corners of his mouth. The politics

of this job had taken their toll on Grissom of late. As much as he loved the

science of inv ... read full excerpt from: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation: Mortal Wounds ebook