Taking her cue from Tomas's process at the agency, she photographed all the equipment and wiring, then one by one disconnected the various pieces.
Two hours later, the sunroom encompassed a pile of evidence they'd take with them: the bedroom computer and all associated media; a laptop Catherine had found in a corner next to the sofa in the great room; another PC tower from a computer Nick had located upstairs; and, not insignificantly, two boxes that Catherine had discovered in Randle's closet.
One box was filled with hard-core porn magazines as well as photo albums that showed Randle and at least a dozen other people in various sexual situations. The other box was stuffed with triple-X DVDs and videotapes. On first pass, the magazines-evenly divided between newsstand magazines like Hustler and Penthouse and harder material available only in "adult" bookstores or on the net-seemed to contain nothing but photos and stories of and pertaining to adults.
Likewise, the photo albums showed nothing but adults having sex-swinger-party Polaroids. Catherine knew that the lack of children or young teens in this material didn't mean a great deal, though the magazines and albums did reflect a strong interest on Randle's part in sexually oriented material. That, of course, didn't make him a child pornographer or even a consumer of child pornography.
About half an hour into the search, Nick had invited Randle and his attorney-and O'Riley, of course-to come in and sit in the kitchen, where they had coffee and watched CNN.
As Catherine and Nick were preparing to load the property up, Randle must have got a sense of it, because the lord of the castle came in with his lawyer trailing quickly behind (and O'Riley ambling thereafter).
Randle's eyes widened at the sight of the pile on the sunroom floor. "Isn't this a little excessive…. Oh, jeez-you're taking my daughter's computer, too?"
"Every computer in the house," Catherine said. "No exceptions."
"Well, hell-she needs that! How's she supposed to do her homework?"
Nick said, "We'll try to get it right back to you, Mr. Randle…but in a case like this, we're going to check every computer you could have come in contact with."
Catherine said, "That's quite a collection you've got there," and gestured to the boxes of adult material.
"What about it? It's not illegal."
"Not illegal-maybe a little damaging, when you're being investigated for a sex crime."
The attorney stepped up, asking Catherine, "Ms. Willows, isn't it? Was there any child pornography in the collection?"
"Not that we've seen thus far," Catherine said.
Nick said, "We haven't been through it all. Your client's a real collector."
Obviously as frustrated as he was irritated, Randle said, "Let me save you a step-you're not going find any child porn, because there isn't any in there!"
Catherine asked, "Would you care to comment on the photo albums? Pornography is one thing; but you obviously take a…proactive interest."
The attorney touched Randle's arm and said, "You don't have to explain yourself, Gary. We'll discuss this-"
But Randle said, "I have nothing to hide, Jonathan!"
"I know you don't, but-"
Randle looked directly at Catherine. "You see, my ex-wife-"
"Elaine."
His eyes tightened, when he realized Catherine knew his ex-wife's name; but he pressed on: "Yes, Elaine…. Elaine and I were, for a time, in…how should I say this…a certain lifestyle."
"Swinging," Catherine said. "Wife swapping? Group sex?"
His eyes fell to the floor; he nodded. "I'm not proud of it. It was kind of an experimental phase we were both going through. We'd both had affairs, and got back together, and we thought maybe…I don't know. We'd save the marriage somehow, by this…openness. Anyway, it was a mistake. In fact, in the end, I think that…activity…was what led to Elaine's drinking getting out of hand."
"And that phase is over?"
Randle waved dismissively. "Long since. We ditched the swinger's scene, but…I guess it was too late to save the marriage."
Nick said, "If it was just a phase, why hold onto the photo albums?"
"I don't know. I just did. I don't really think that's any of your business, anyway. I've been frank. Doesn't that count for anything?"
"You're not involved in that scene, anymore."
"No! I have nothing to hide!"
"Not in those photos," Nick said.
The attorney said, "Mr. Stokes!"
Catherine asked, "Your ex-wife has visitation rights, correct?"
"Supervised," Randle said, "by an officer of the court. Social worker in our case."
"So Elaine doesn't have custody on the weekends?"
"Much as she hates that, no. Her drinking burned a lot of bridges for her. She was drunk behind the wheel when she got into that accident-with Heather in the car!"
Catherine didn't think either one of them sounded like candidates for parent of the year. She handed Randle a piece of paper. "This is an itemized list of the property we're seizing. Anything that isn't evidence will be returned, in due course."
Randle slowly scanned the list; he looked up, surprised. "What's this about a laptop?"
"The one that was next to the couch," Catherine said, "in the family room."
"No."
"No?"
"Lady, I don't even own a laptop."
"Well, that's a new one, Mr. Randle. I've heard 'I don't even own a gun,' I've certainly heard 'That's not my grass'…but-"
"Show me this laptop. Come on-show me!"
They did.
"Not mine," Randle said, shaking his head emphatically. "Not Heather's, either."
Nick asked, "Then how did it come to be in your family room?"
Randle's eyes were huge, though the flesh around them had tightened; a vein was throbbing in his forehead.
Catherine said pleasantly, "Well, Mr. Randle?"
For first time, Randle seemed not just put out or frustrated or irritated: he was afraid. Clearly, utterly terrified. But he managed to say, "How can I explain it? You should tell me-you're the detectives!"
The attorney took his client firmly by the arm. "Mr. Randle has nothing further to say about this matter. Are you going to charge him? Take him in for questioning as a material witness?"
Catherine said nothing; Nick was silent, and O'Riley, too.
"Then please take with you what your search warrant allows," Austin said, "and leave my client's home."
Catherine looked right at Randle, though her words were directed to the attorney: "Your client should not leave town. He may feel he has nothing more to say to us, but we may have much more to say to him-once we've gone through this material at the lab."
Nick's smile looked almost sincere. "You'll be hearing from us real soon, Mr. Randle. Thanks for your cooperation."
Randle and his attorney headed back for the kitchen, and O'Riley helped the CSIs load up the Tahoe with the potential evidence.
At HQ, Nunez was given custody of the computers while Catherine and Nick split up everything else. Before they really dug in, Catherine said, "Hey-before we look at naked pictures, Nicky…isn't there someone we should talk to, first?"
"A man of the cloth?" Nick asked, wryly.
"Not even a man with a cloth…. A woman. With an ex-husband I'm confident she'll want to tell us all about…."
Within half an hour, Catherine and Nick-with O'Riley chaperoning-were on the front porch of a one-story house in a quiet neighborhood on Gunderson Boulevard.
The older home, with its white and gray siding, tall trees sprouting from a lush, trim lawn, could hardly compare with Randle's Lakes area residence, but it had a quiet, homey appeal. In the driveway outside a one-car garage, a black Lincoln Continental seemed slightly incongruous next to the modest but well-kept home.