Calleigh and Delko are revisiting Trey's body because, as Calleigh said, "They said the four of them walked across the roof, which got me thinking. Hotel roofs are tar and gravel." Delko notices that Trey has the scratches to prove it -- however, he's got the scratches on the tops of his feet, which idiot-boy did not notice as abnormal for normally-perambulating people. The two CSIs conclude that Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest dragged Trey up and jumped off, the better to unload the body in the midst of chaos where there wouldn't be any reliable witnesses. They conclude that Trey's pants were on backwards because his idiot friends dressed him before dumping him. Then they head out to confront the three amigos by throwing down Trey's autopsy photos until they cave. We quickly find out that yes, Trey died during Bong Olympics, and yes, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest dragged Trey up and jumped off the roof. Calleigh asks why nobody called 911, and one of the tools is all, "I didn't want to get in trouble." Oh, Jeebus, help me. You'd think that growing up in a culture besotted with crime dramas would teach you that not calling the cops will get you in bigger trouble than calling the cops. Dumb and Dumber are all startled to realize that they're being booked for being accomplices to a homicide; Dumbest gets to be the guy what did the homicide. Delko's all, "Involuntary manslaughter, negligent homicide -- that's for the state's attorney to decide. The thing is, you could have called 911 if you hadn't been so stoned." Calleigh adds, "You could have saved a friend's life instead of making a wreck of your own." And that's one to grow on.
Horatio's busy watching Tiffy, over and over again, when he notices the killer wiping the lens of the camera with his thumb. Which an actual camera operator would never do, but I just don't have the strength to hurl suitable invective at this point. This is, as it turns out, the contrived plot device which will yield a fingerprint, and thus lead us to the suspect whom we've never seen before.
Okay, so I lied about the invective: I realize that in real life, the process of solving a crime does not neatly fit the kind of narrative structure where a gun's put on the table in Act One so it can go off in Act Three. However, as should be abundantly obvious to anyone who's watched five minutes of this show at any time, CSI: Miami is not real life; it's a television show purportedly based on procedural crime-solving, and the dramatic hook in such a premise is the introduction of information that's put into context over the course of the episode so that the dramatic conclusion rewards viewer attention throughout the episode. Good writing does that. Good writing does not introduce two red herrings without also laying the groundwork for the actual suspect. Good writing does not depend on disregarding nearly all the information already presented in the episode for one plot device -- unless the possibility that all the information is irrelevant and the detectives need rethink their assumptions is introduced. Good writing is currently taking a vacation in Miami Beach, if the previous fifty minutes of the episode are any indication.