Meanwhile, in this show's inaugural B-plot, Horatio is pulling up in the CSI Humvee and hustling over to where Delko is, a ravine in which a thoroughly gutted SUV has rolled to a rest. As Horatio walks over, someone shouts off-camera that she's with Highway Patrol and the car was stolen. Horatio stands on the lip of the gully and shouts for Delko, who responds by scaling the grade and saying, "We've got a female driver, H. She's dead." The woman is the only person in the SUV, which was reported stolen two weeks ago in Georgia, and which went right over the edge of the ravine sans skid marks. Horatio and Delko wend their way back toward the scene, and Delko prepares us for the crispy carnage within by warning, "I'm thinking the fuel line ruptured when the car hit bottom. The gas tank punctured, and sparks set it off on impact." The camera then focuses on the woman in the passenger seat, who's roughly the same color and consistency as pork barbecue. We get a flashback to the car going over the edge a few times -- hey, if it's going to cost money to send an SUV over a cliff, then get your money's worth -- and then we're back with Horatio and Delko. Delko's showing off his newest piece of evidence for Horatio, a charred label to a bottle of Beauchamp cognac. Horatio comments, "Our car thief has expensive tastes -- that's a $400 bottle of cognac." Well, it was an expensive car, too. You wouldn't expect an SUV thief to be hitting the Mad Dog 20/20. ["Not until CSI: Camden, NJ, anyway." -- Sars] Horatio and Delko walk over to the car and survey the fried body within. There's no ID -- the purse found near the car was bereft of anything that could help. Delko also reveals that there was a suitcase found near the car, and Horatio muses, "Now why would this poor thing travel with a suitcase and a purse and no ID?" Could it be...foul play?
The camera then swings to a shot of a statue of Jesus, who looks as if he's either exhorting people to come and be fishers of men, or he's participating in the wave. Speedle comes over to the statue and tells Megan, "Last time I was in church was when Kurt Cobain died." Because...Nirvana's cover of "Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam" was so moving? Because...he and his college pals were participating in an attempt to exorcise Courtney Love remotely? So many possibilities, none of them explored here. Megan's not really moved by Speedle's admission. The two of them progress to a doorway, and as Megan goes to reflexively bless herself with the holy water, she draws back, noticing that there's something in the water. A quick portable lab test later, and we've got confirmation of blood. Speedle comments, "The killer washed his hands, huh? A regular Pontius Pilate." Megan offers an alternative theory: "Or [beat] he blessed himself, which means we're looking for a devout Catholic." From the depths of the couch, I snort dubiously; I'm so impious as to actually physically dread a divine lightning strike whenever I take communion in my mom's church, yet I still reflexively bless myself upon entering or exiting a church. Very nearly every Catholic does; the ritual gets pounded into your head at an early age. Plus, if you're really good, and you hit the water at the right angle, you can drench a sibling without fear of retribution.