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Retribution
Chapter
Five
Her
computer chimed as soon as she logged on, indicating that a message was waiting
for her.
Email
had become Sara’s life-line – making her a little less lonely, keeping her
abreast of all the happenings back in Vegas. But it was a poor substitute for
the real people, she had come to realize. And absolutely nothing could come
close to filling the void which Grissom’s absence in her life had left.
Clicking
on the ‘new mail’ icon, she smiled broadly at the sight of Greg’s user name – Einstein.
As
her eyes scanned over his message, her brief joy turned to worry. Something was
wrong. Greg’s tone was as light and breezy as ever, but there was something
else behind it. And the very fact that he was telling her that Grissom was
trying to contact her set off warning bells. Apart from his brief text message
two weeks before, she had heard nothing from Grissom, while he lived up to his
pledge of allowing her as much time as she needed away from him. It would take
something pretty serious to get him to renege on so serious a promise.
And
then there were the phone calls…
She
had finally switched her phone off after one strange call became a dozen in the
space of a few hours. Unwilling to continue to be harassed, but hesitant to
contact anyone to investigate the matter further, she had simply hit the ‘off’
button and stuffed the offending cell phone down into the bottom of her bag –
where she now dug around to retrieve it.
The
message center alerted her to the fact that she had voice mail.
“Sara? I know I promised
not to contact you before you were ready, but I… I need to talk to you about
something. Call me when you get this, please? I love you.”
“Sara, it’s me again.
Look, it’s all over the papers now. Jill… she’s been released on bail pending a
retrial. I’m sorry, honey. Please call me.”
“Hey. Your phone’s still
off – should I be worried? I need to know you’re okay. Call, text, anything,
okay?”
“Sara? Come on honey,
it’s been hours. What’s going on? Please. Switch on your phone and call me
back.”
“Sara, something’s
happened here and I need to talk to you right away. You need to call me the
second you get this, okay? It’s urgent. Please honey…”
The
messages had become increasingly anxious – frantic, even – as they went on.
Hurriedly, she hit number one on her speed dial and waited while it rang out.
“This is Gil Grissom.
Please leave a name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
Turn
about was fair play, she supposed. Of course reaching him would now be a
problem.
“Griss?
It’s Sara. I’m sorry – I didn’t get your messages until just now. My phone’s
been off… but I guess you knew that already,” she laughed nervously. “I’ll…
I’ll explain when I talk to you. I’ll keep it switched on, so call me back when
you get this.”
She
paused, unwilling to end the call without including a more personal message. “I
miss you,” she told his automated ear, before hanging up.
---
For
once, luck was on his side.
Grissom
had managed to wangle a last minute seat on a flight to
With
great reluctance, he switched his cell phone off at the last possible moment
before take off, still holding out hope that Sara would call to let him know
she was perfectly safe and all his worrying had been totally unnecessary. So
far, however, his phone had only chirped once, when Brass called to let him
know that he was looking into the whereabouts of Laura Sidle and that he’d have
the information ASAP.
As
he sat in his seat with nothing worthwhile to focus his attention on, he found
himself puzzling over what Jill’s next move would be. Given her actions to
date, she would go after anyone whom she felt had wronged her in any way. She
had already gone so far as to murder the object of her original obsession, the
man who, in truth, had been the catalyst for all that was now occurring.
One
thing he knew for certain – Sara was the focal point of the delusional woman’s
rage. While Jill was free, Sara would not be safe – and nor would anyone close
to her.
---
Nick
watched from a discreet distance as Greg sighed and stretched. They’d been
combing the suspect’s residence for hours, with little success, and it was
taking its toll on all of them.
Nick
paused for a moment, fighting the urge to go to him and work out the kinks in
the younger man’s neck and shoulders with his well-practiced hands. Desire
flared in his belly and he immediately shook it off and got himself back under
control.
“Time
and place,” he intoned to himself, as he slipped his professional mask on and
crossed the room.
“Got
anything?”
Greg
looked up, happy to see him, but his frustration with the case more than
obvious.
“Nada.
You?”
Nick
shook his head. “Nothing useful. Warrick’s taken samples of the plants from the
greenhouse back to the lab, so hopefully we’ll at least be able to prove the
origin of the poison. But we’ve got nothing that tells us what Jill’s next move
is going to be.”
A
flash of fear crossed Greg’s face. “Do you think Grissom’s right? That she’s
gone after Sara?”
Nick
felt as lost and as frightened as Greg looked.
“I
don’t know, G. I just don’t know…”
---
When
Grissom still hadn’t called her back an hour later, Sara decided to go straight
to the source.
“Sanders.”
“Hey.
It’s me.”
“Sara!
Man, is it good to hear your voice.” His voice became distant for a moment as
he turned his head away to speak to someone else at his end of the
conversation. “Nicky. It’s Sara!”
Sara’s
earlier suspicions were now being confirmed as far as she was concerned. “Okay,
you are way too happy to hear from
me. What’s going on?”
There
was an uncomfortable semi-silence while Greg cleared his throat and tried to
figure out how to avoid her question.
“Greg,”
she said in her sternest voice.
“Have
you – uh – talked to Grissom yet?” he finally asked.
“No.
I called, but his phone’s switched off. I figured he must be out at a scene.”
Another
pause, followed by a nervous cough.
“No…
No, he’s not at a scene…” he replied.
Back
in Vegas, Greg covered the mouthpiece of his phone with an increasingly sweaty
palm and turned to Nick.
“Should
I tell her he’s on his way to
Instantly,
Sara’s voice – several octaves higher than normal – came through his phone.
“Greg! Why is Grissom coming to
Busted, he thought. Stammering
and stalling, he somehow managed to articulate “Now Sara, don’t get upset…”
before the phone was hijacked.
“Sara?
It’s Nick.”
“Please
tell me you’re going to be more forthcoming than your partner in crime there.”
He
shot Greg an exasperated look before replying. “He’s on his way to you. Some
heavy stuff is going down here right now and, when he couldn’t reach you, he
panicked.”
Grissom
and panic were not two words readily associated with each other, so Nick’s
words only served to concern her further.
“What
‘stuff’? Nicky, spit it out.”
The
Texan paused for a moment, for once not trying to avoid the question, but
rather to figure out the best way to phrase the answer. With Sara? Straight and
to the point was always the best option.
“Jill’s
been released on bail. The jury came back hung, so she’s out pending the
retrial.”
“I
know,” she replied, her feelings about that event temporarily overshadowed by
confusion. “Grissom panicked over that?”
“Not
exactly, no,” he replied. “She’s gone missing. Didn’t present herself to the PD
this morning, which is a condition of her bail.”
“Damn,”
she swore under her breath. “But that doesn’t mean she’s coming…”
“She
was at your apartment, Sara,” he cut her off. “She broke in, trashed the place
like she was looking for something. And… she called Grissom.”
A
cold dread washed over her. “What did she say to him?”
“Nothing.
She hung up.”
“Did
he get many of these calls?”
Nick
frowned. “I don’t know. Why?”
Taking
a deep breath, she explained that her own experience with hang ups the previous
day was the reason for her phone being switched off. Nick didn’t need to say
anything – she knew exactly what he was thinking. Jill was coming for her.
“What
else?” she asked him. “What else do I need to know?”
Nick
took a seat and began to tell her about Tom Haviland.
---
Grissom
rushed through the terminal to the Avis counter and for once didn’t debate with
the clerk the merits of his preferred Mercedes versus an ‘American’ car. He
took the first available vehicle and was soon on the US-101, the Bayshore
Freeway, heading north into the city and across the
Cursing
under his breath, he drove one-handed as he turned it on and waited for any
messages to come through. The first was a text from Jim, with a current address
for Sara’s mother and a word of warning for him not to do anything stupid.
Then
the phone chirped to let him know he had voice mail. He sighed with relief as
Sara’s voice came through his handset, allaying his worst fears. He let the
message play out before hitting “1” on his speed-dial.
His
eagerness to talk to her was quickly quashed by a busy signal. Cursing the
continuation of his bad luck, he dropped the phone onto the passenger seat and
stepped on the gas, not noticing the black sedan that pulled out of the traffic
behind and followed him.
TBC.
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