This holiday season, it's tough to decide which commercials unnerve me more: the ones where Kirstie Alley, swaddled in a hectare of velvet and made up Calleigh Duquesne-style, bullies people into having a Christmas Thai-cathouse-style at the Pier One Imports, or the diamond industry commercials that all but state, "Only cheap jackasses don't get their women diamonds for Christmas!" And they're both on right now. It figures.
Once we're back at the body dump location, Horatio's hunkered down and staring at a track in the dirt. He calls, "Calleigh, please," and she sprints on over. I'm relieved to report that she hasn't been too badly mauled by the hair and wardrobe people today. Calleigh immediately plops down next to Horatio and puts her ear near the ground. Horatio asks Calleigh to tell him about the track he found, and she replies, "Faint tread impression, knobby tire, narrow track width. Put it all together, it spells ATV." Guns, gears -- if it's inorganic, it's right up Calleigh's alley. Horatio notes that the tread seems pretty fragile, but wants Calleigh to try and make a cast of it anyway. She whips out the hair spray. Haven't we seen that move before??
While Calleigh's spritzing the sand, Speedle and Delko are entering the land of the B-plot. We hear Speedle before we see him, and he's saying something about how "Delacroix says this guy's a wharf rat." As the two of them head to a shiny silver trailer, Delko asks, "Do we have a name on him?" We do -- it's Willie Stango. Speedle adds, "His ex-wife came by to check up on him. Said he'd been ducking her calls for a week." His ex-wife must have called immediately after getting a snootful of the smell, which hits Speedle the minute he enters the trailer and causes him to fling an arm over his mouth and nose in self-defense. Delko retches a few times and comments, "It smells well-done." Speedle's pressed a surgical mask against his face by this point, and after he and Delko have rolled over the body and noted the waxy, reddish skin around Stango's mouth, Delko comments, "Oh, yeah. It looks like someone torched him." Delko waves a flashlight around the trailer -- which is none too tidy, but it's not like Stango's lack of housekeeping skills will be traced to a psychotic depression or anything -- and notes, "No signs of forced entry. Probably someone he knew." "Like a pissed-off ex-wife," Speedle comments. You just know he's at the fun table at weddings.
As Delko's looking around the trailer, he's noting lots of discarded milk cartons. He quips, "Got milk?" Speedle notices a small spill next to an open carton and comments, "It's all over the place." He takes a swab, then makes a face, so we're left to conclude that the milk is probably sour. We then hear the sound of a camera snapping as we flash-focus on another puddle of milk, a carton near Stango's hand, Stango lying on his back, and a cell phone within reach of his hand. I guess we're supposed to infer, between this photographic sequence and the earlier one, that we're viewing the scene through the eyes of the CSI who's photographing it. Delko picks up the cell phone and notes that it's working, and that Stango's missed a lot of calls. Speedle thinks that checking all of Stango's missed calls is an excellent place to start. Ten bucks says that he's managing Horatio-style, and the missed calls are an excellent place for Delko to start while Speedle does something else, like email Warrick again and forward "Top Ten Ways To Know You're The Brains Of The Crime Solving Duo..." spam he got off the CSI-L listserv.