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Chapter Four - A Special Case
Grissom had to get out of there. Scooping
the contents of the envelope back into its confines again, trying to avoid
touching the note in the vague hope that he would not further compromise any
prints that might be present, he gave it to Greg to take to DNA, trace and
fingerprints. After telling Catherine to look after Sara, he stormed off to his
office to calm down.
His emotions had been threatening to get
the better of him since Sara's DNA and fingerprint had shown up at his crime
scene. But now those emotions were dangerously close to erupting, and that he
could not afford. He had to keep calm, not lose his head. For the sake of the
case. And for Sara.
He looked down at his shaking hands and
was startled to see his white knuckles clenched fiercely around his coffee mug.
He didn't remember picking it up.
Suddenly he was overcome with rage. Tightening
his grip on the mug, he pulled his arm back and hurled it at the wall.
"Son of a bitch!" The words
boiled out of him in unfettered fury.
"Guess there's no point in asking if
you're okay."
Grissom had no idea how long Catherine had
been standing there. "I thought you were with Sara," was all he could
say.
"Ladies room, washing her face. I'm
taking her to the hospital now for... for a sexual assault exam,"
Catherine edged into the office, looking worried. "What are you going to do?"
"Work the case," he answered
sullenly. He moved to his chair and sat down, suddenly needing to put his desk
between himself and Catherine's penetrating gaze.
"Can you? Objectively?"
Grissom glared at her. "What the
hell's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, you're not exactly your usual
detached, analytical self now, are you?" Catherine moved closer to the
desk. "It's Sara. It feels personal to all of us. But for you..."
Catherine hesitated, not sure if she
should push him now. But then, she'd never really been one to skirt an issue.
"If it were any of us, you'd do your
damnedest for us. I know that. But Sara, she's... special."
When Grissom could no longer hold her
gaze, he looked away and sighed.
"Right now, she's evidence."
"So, we'd better go process me
then," said an oddly detached voice.
Grissom looked up to see Sara in the
doorway, looking lost, and scared, but mostly stung by what he'd just said.
"Sara," he started, not sure
what he was going to say.
"I'm ready to go Cath," Sara said,
ignoring him.
She turned and hurried away from the
office towards the car park. Catherine looked at Grissom and shook her head
before following Sara out. Grissom
cradled his head in his hands.
"You're an asshole, Gil,"
he said.
---
Warrick's eyes went briefly in and out of
focus as he stared at the small screen in front of him. Nothing moved. He'd
gone through hours of footage, and no one had gone near the door of the
warehouse, even during the day leading up to the crime.
"Anything yet?" Nick's Texan
drawl inquired as he entered the AV lab. Warrick shook his head without tearing
his gaze from the screen.
"Nothing. No one went near the place
all day. But it's got me to thinking. If our perp was casing the place,
watching it for any length of time, they'd probably think that the warehouse
was totally abandoned. But I have it from the owner of the industrial park that
it was only going to be vacant until tomorrow."
"So our guy might have thought that
his bugs would have plenty of time to decomp the body before it was found? Any
reason to think that he might have known the warehouse was going back in
use?" Nick wanted to know.
"The owner doesn't seem to think so.
It wasn't a secret. But no one outside of the company would have had any reason
to know."
Nick thought for a moment. "Are you
checking into the employees?"
"Brass is on it," Warrick
replied, finally looking away from the screen. "Checking for anyone with a
record or a grudge. But right now, we've got nothing. It's kinda hard when we
don't know who the victim is. How'd you go with the missing persons
reports?"
"Narrowed it down to 8 possibilities,
based on our vic's height and weight. O'Reilly's tracking down dental records.
Hopefully won't take too long."
Nick looked at the screen. Suddenly,
something caught his attention.
"Heads up man," he told Warrick.
A dark coloured SUV had pulled up in front
of the warehouse door. A figure in dark slacks and a jacket got out, wearing a
black hat they both recognised.
"That looks like..." Nick began.
"Sara," Warrick finished.
"Her coat, her hat, her car even."
"What's the time code say?" Nick
asked his partner.
"1 am," Warrick replied.
"So Sara left the bar at
"But according to Greg, the amount of
rohypnol in her system was enough to have her unconscious for at least 8 or 9
hours."
"Meaning that she must have been out
of it by
"Meaning someone, what? Drove her
home, and then took her hat, coat and car to the warehouse. Killed our vic, and
left Sara's car back at her apartment before
"Tells us something else,
partner," Nick replied. "Look at the perp's build. Our killer's a
woman."
---
No matter how many assault cases she had
worked, nothing prepared Sara for going through a sexual assault examination
herself. The humiliation built up inside her chest until it was almost too
painful to breathe. Tears threatened to breach the defences of her eyes, but
she refused to cry. Not here. Not now.
When it was over, Catherine sat in a chair
near her, offering her unspoken support while the doctor went through her
findings. Sara was grateful she was there.
"I can't find any evidence of sexual
assault, Sara," the doctor began. "There's no evidence of sex taking
place in a while."
Sara felt as though a heavy weight had
been lifted off her chest.
"You're sure?" Catherine wanted
to be sure.
"As sure as I can be," the
doctor replied. "There's no sign of injury, the clock's completely
clear."
Sara was too caught up in her relief and
remaining confusion to speak. Slowly she lowered her feet to the ground and got
off the examination table.
"I'll leave you to get dressed,"
Catherine told her, squeezing her arm and giving her a quick smile. She and the
doctor left the room.
In a daze, Sara quickly put her clothes
back on. I'm burning this damn outfit
when I get home, she thought absently. All the emotions of the past several
hours started to build up again. The confusion, the pain, the fear... and still
the nagging knowledge that she still didn't know what had happened to her, who
had drugged her, or why her fingerprint and hair had wound up at a crime scene.
When she left the exam room, Catherine
wasn't around. Standing opposite the door, leaning back against the wall was
Grissom. He looked up as she closed the door, his blue eyes filled with regret.
"Hey," he said simply.
"Hey..." she started to reply,
before everything became too much for her. The tears she had held back
throughout her exam broke through her barriers, and Sara wept.
Suddenly she felt his arms around her,
holding her up, clutching her sobbing, grief-wracked body to his chest, giving
her all the warmth and support he could muster. Grissom let her cry, sobbing
into his shoulder like a lost child. Gently he stroked her hair.
Grissom wanted nothing more in the world
than to take all her pain away, to give her comfort and solace. He had felt so
utterly helpless, and though he still felt that way, he finally got it. He
might not have all the answers yet, he might not be in control. But he could be
there for her.
Slowly, Sara got her breathing under
control, and the tears slowed. She gently pulled away from him and looked up at
his concerned face.
"What are you doing here?" she
asked him.
"I wanted to be here for you,"
he told her. A look of guilt crossed his face. "And to apologise. I'm
sorry about earlier. I was an asshole..."
"Its okay," she answered gently.
"It means a lot that you're here."
"Come on. I'll take you home."
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