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Valentine
Chapter
Seven - Commonality
Red
and blue lights pierced the gloom of the desert, as the early morning light
began to creep across the sand. Grissom and Sara pulled up in their Tahoe
beside Nick, Catherine and Warrick, who were standing back, letting David do
his thing.
‘What
have we got?’ Grissom asked as he and Sara reached their colleagues.
‘Young
couple, Jessica Reynolds and Mark Lewis. Went missing three
nights ago, 48 hours after our first couple.’
‘Every
other day,’ Grissom mused quietly to himself.
‘Beg
you’re pardon?’ Catherine asked.
‘It’s
Tuesday morning, right? The first couple went missing last Wednesday, but
weren’t found until Saturday night. We found Haley Michaels and Jason Clements
on Sunday night; just hours after they were last seen. This couple went missing
second, three nights ago – Friday night. Wednesday, Friday, Sunday… it’s a
pattern. We’re just finding the bodies out of order.’
Sara’s
admiring look at his logic was quickly replaced by one of worry. ‘Which means, if they follow their pattern, they’ll strike again
tonight.’
‘Let’s
not let that happen. Warrick, did you enhance the
image of the two suspects from the night Clive and Mary disappeared?’
‘Yeah,’
Warrick replied. ‘I couldn’t get a good picture of the guy, but the girl is as
clear as a bell.’
‘Take
it to this address,’ Grissom told him, handing him a slip of paper with George
Matthews’ address written on it. ‘And show it to our kidnap victim. The sooner
we tie that incident to these murders, the better chance we have of working out
the pattern. And ask him where he and his girlfriend were before they drove to
the desert.’
‘On
it,’ Warrick nodded and walked briskly to his SUV.
‘Nick,
you take the perimeter,’ Grissom started to mobilise the rest of his troops.
‘Check the road, check the sand. Anything the perps
might have left behind. Sara, overall locator shots and
close-ups. Take pictures of everything. Catherine. You and I will take
the bodies.’
Catherine
nodded her head towards the young girl that lay just a few feet from where they
stood. ‘I’ll take the girlfriend.’
‘Let’s
get the scene processed and get back to the lab,’ Grissom said. ‘We need to
work out the pattern, and we’re against the clock.’
---
Evidence
had been turned in to Trace and DNA, the bodies had been transported to the
morgue, and Sara had laid out all the crime scene photos and case notes on the
large table in the layout room. Seven cases in all, one kidnapping, and six
double murders – three they had yet to prove was the work of their serials, but
Sara knew. She felt it in her gut. These crimes were the work of the same
homicidal couple.
The
rest of the team were still completing their own tasks, before they would come
here to work through all the evidence together. As far as she knew, Grissom and
Catherine were looking in on the autopsies. She was taking a few moments to
herself in the break room, pouring herself a cup of coffee, when a rap on the
door drew her attention.
“Sara
Sidle?” the man asked.
“That’s
me,” she replied, her attention drawn to the official looking letter in his
hand. A subpoena.
She
barely heard a word he said next, but took the proffered clip board from him
and signed her name in a daze. She knew, before she even opened the envelope, what
it was in regard to. She muttered a ‘thank you’ to the court official and sat
down at the table with the letter as he left.
Fingers
trembling slightly, she withdrew the stiff, official piece of paper and
unfolded it.
She
was still staring at it when Grissom entered several minutes later. The look on
her face, as she continued to stare blindly at the paper in front of her, sent
his protective streak into overdrive.
‘Sara?’
he asked hesitantly, not wanting to startle her as she looked so far away.
Slowly,
she looked up. ‘Hey,’ she attempted a smile.
Moving
towards her quickly, he settled into the chair next to her and reached out,
placing a comforting hand on her arm. ‘What’s wrong, honey?’ he asked her.
Not
trusting herself to speak, she handed him the subpoena, which he read in
seconds. He nodded his head, understanding.
‘I
spoke to the DA yesterday. Jill… they’ve decided she’s ready to stand trial.
Her injuries… she’s healing well apparently.’
Grissom
was careful to refer to her injuries in a detached manner, trying desperately
to ignore the fact that he had caused the bullet wound to Jill’s shoulder, when
she had kidnapped Sara and threatened to kill her. Grissom had never opened
fire on anyone before, had only drawn his gun once before to aim it at a
suspect – again in defence of one of his CSIs. But this time, he acknowledged
somewhere deep inside himself, it was different. If Jill had hurt Sara, he knew
he would have had no hesitation in making the kill shot. And that unsettled him
more than he would admit.
‘Are
you okay?’ he asked her, instantly closing his eyes in disgust with himself for
the stupidity of the question. Of course she wasn’t all right.
‘I’m…
I thought I’d dealt with it and moved on, but…’ Sara faltered, still unable to
put her fears into words.
‘It’s
okay. It takes time,’ Grissom told her, his voice full of tenderness. ‘Are you
still having the nightmares?’
‘Some.
Not as many as before,’ she said, finally looking at him. ‘Grissom, I…’
They
were interrupted by the irritating bleat of his cell phone.
‘Damn.
Sorry,’ he apologised before flipping the phone open and answering it. ‘Grissom.’
He
listened.
‘Mr.
Mayor, I understand that, but this is an ongoing investigation and…’
He
rolled his eyes in frustration as the Mayor obviously cut him off.
‘We
are following several possible leads… No, I do not believe the fact of whose
daughter she is has anything to do with Haley Michael’s death… there’s no
evidence to support that… No, we’ve ruled Stacey Marks out of our enquiries,’
he said, referring to the girl who had threatened Haley a week before her
death.
Again
he lapsed into frustrated silence as the Mayor continued to talk.
‘Look,
Mr Mayor, I’m currently dealing with at least three double homicides at the
hand of the same perpetrators. I can’t tell you anything else until I know more
myself. I have a meeting to get to, so if you’ll excuse me,’ he said, ending
the call before the Mayor could protest.
‘Politics,’
Sara observed, somewhat amused.
Grissom
rubbed his hands over his face. ‘I swear, Sara, one of these days this
political crap is going to drive me out of here.’
Sara
shook her head in disbelief. ‘That’s never going to happen,’ she told him.
‘So
where were we?’ he asked, getting back to their earlier conversation. ‘You were
about to say something?’
Any
mirth that had been present on her face suddenly left, and she lowered her eyes
to the table, avoiding his gaze. ‘It was… nothing.’
‘Sara,’
he said, slipping one hand under her chin and tilting her face upwards. Still
she wouldn’t meet his eyes. ‘Talk to me.’
‘I
just… you’re going to have to testify too, aren’t you?’
‘Of course. But…’
‘Not
just about the… murder,’ she began, unable to say Hank Pettigrew’s name. ‘But
about the night she… about the shooting…’
Grissom
let out a small sigh of understanding. ‘So that’s what’s wrong,’ he said.
‘I’m
so sorry I put you in that position…’ Sara started to say, but Grissom cut her
off.
‘No.
I’m not letting you do that,’ he told her firmly.
Shocked
by his stern tone, her eyes finally met his. ‘Wh…what?’
‘I’m
not going to let you start beating yourself up over what happened, Sara,’ he
told her in the same firm voice. ‘It was
not your fault.’
Tears
swam in her eyes, as she struggled to believe his words. Seeing the pain in her
eyes, he moved his hand from her face and slipped it around her shoulders,
pulling her into a comforting embrace.
‘It’s
going to be alright, Sara,’ he told her, his voice soft and tender once more.
‘I promise.’
His
arms felt so warm and secure, Sara felt herself melt into them. She had been
trying to fool herself for the past few weeks that she was fine, that her experience
with Jill hadn’t affected her. She had spent her entire adult life, not to
mention a large part of her childhood, convinced that she should always appear
self-sufficient and confident, that she should never be weak enough to need someone to lean on. Now, in
Grissom’s arms, she started to reconsider that outlook.
Sara
suddenly realised where the were – in the middle of the layout room at work –
not the most appropriate setting to be found in the boss’s arms. Reluctantly,
she pulled away and gave him a brave smile.
‘This
probably isn’t the best place…’ she said quietly.
Unwilling
to stop touching her just yet, Grissom settled for placing his hand on her arm.
This is how they were still sitting when Catherine, Warrick and Nick entered
the room. The gesture didn’t escape any of their attention. However, Nick was
the first to notice that Sara looked upset.
‘Sara…
you okay?’ he said, concern creeping into his Texan drawl.
She
attempted another brave smile and gestured towards the subpoena that now lay on
the table in front of her. ‘It’s just… Jill’s trial date’s been set. I’m okay…
it’s just…’ she faltered.
Nick
gave her a supportive smile. ‘Yeah. If you need me…’
‘I
know,’ she told him, rewarding his kindness with a stronger smile. ‘Thanks.’
Grissom finally tore his eyes away from Sara
and reluctantly removed his hand from her arm. ‘Let’s get started, shall we?’
‘Greg’s
not here yet,’ Catherine observed. ‘Aren’t we waiting for him?’
‘He’s
rushing the DNA on our new case,’ Grissom told her. ‘He says he’s quicker than
Mia. But apparently I’m not to get any funny ideas about giving him his old job
back. So, what do we have so far?’
‘Well,
I got us our confirmation. Our murder suspects were also kidnappers,’ Warrick
told her. ‘Just got back from interviewing George Matthews and he was positive.
This was the girl that kidnapped him.’
‘Good
work, Warrick,’ Grissom said. ‘How about where he and his girlfriend were
before they drove out to the desert?’
‘They
were at a movie. Just off the strip.’
‘How
are you coming with tying in the other three murders?’ Nick asked Sara.
‘We
don’t have any DNA or trace to confirm it,’ Sara told them. ‘But it’s them. Same MO – young couples, desert, mutilation.’
‘Okay,
lets go over everything we have so far,’ Grissom suggested. ‘Seven couples that
we know of. Abducted while parked in the desert. Driven
somewhere even more secluded. According to our survivor, they were then
tormented, threatened. His attackers got bored and let them go. In the six
other cases, the couples were shot, then mutilated post-mortem.’
‘Except
Haley Michaels,’ Catherine cut in. ‘She put up a fight – killer stabbed her
repeatedly.’
‘Change
of MO brought about by a loss of control?’ Grissom suggested. ‘Killer wasn’t
expecting her to fight back. Forced him or her to change the
mode of death.’
‘I’m
voting for ‘her’ in Haley’s case,’ Sara said. ‘DNA under her nails came back
XX. She was fighting with the girl – presumably Lana Tyler.’
‘Makes
sense,’ Grissom agreed. ‘In the kidnap case, Lana controlled the girl while her
boyfriend controlled George.’
At
that point in the meeting, Bobby Dawson entered the room holding a report which
he handed to Sara.
‘I
ran the comparison you asked for,’ he told her, including Grissom and the rest
of the CSI in his brief address. ‘Perfect match.’
‘Bobby,
you are the best,’ Sara told him sincerely. He smiled and returned to his
domain of guns and ammo.
‘Confirmation?’ Grissom asked her.
‘Yeah,’
Sara replied, looking through the report. ‘The same gun was used in all of the
murders.’
‘Okay,
so our suspects grab these kids in the desert. Murder them…’ Nick sought to get
his bearings. ‘But they only cut the hearts out of these last three victims…’
‘Evolving
MO,’ Grissom suggested. ‘Escalation.’
‘It
was the next step for them, Nick,’ Sara told him. ‘The three previous couples
had… parts cut from them. No internal organs, but they took fingers, toes, uh …
etc…’
Nick’s
eyes were wide as he got Sara’s meaning. ‘I could have gone a long while
without knowing that,’ he told her, his face contorted in disgust.
‘How
did we not know about these other cases before?’ Warrick wanted to know.
‘Two
of the couples were found just outside
‘Figures,’
Nick grunted.
‘How
did Ecklie miss a connection like that?’
The
look on Grissom’s face answered that question. He was saved having to say
anything disrespectful but deserved about his inept colleague by the arrival of
Greg.
‘Okay,
my genius has come through once more. In record time, I might add,’ Greg
announced. ‘DNA collected on the latest case is a match for the first two
cases.’
‘Great,’
Catherine said as the young CSI took a seat at the table. ‘But it doesn’t get
us any closer to finding them. We need to find the commonality. Where were these
kids when the suspects spotted them?’
They
went round and round the table, trying to make a connection that would lead
them to the suspects, and getting no further.
‘This
is crazy,’ Nick blew out, frustrated. ‘We have a ton of evidence. Why isn’t it
getting us anywhere?’
Grissom
didn’t answer. He was watching Sara, a hint of tenderness softening his face.
She hadn’t spoken in several minutes, but was bent over the table; several evidence envelops spread out in front of her like a
desk of cards. Her brow was knit with concentration.
‘Sara?
You still with us?’ Grissom asked her.
‘Hmm?’
she replied, not lifting her head, a strange, knowing smile playing on her
lips. ‘Nick? What do teenagers do these days?’
Nick’s
surprise matched the rest of his colleagues’ at the bizarre and unexpected
nature of the question. ‘What?’
‘Teenagers? When they’re on dates. Where
do they go?’ she persisted.
‘Jeez, Sara. Has it been so long you don’t remember?’ Nick joked.
Sara
finally looked up from the table with a look that wiped the smile off Nick’s
face. He held up his hands in surrender.
‘Um…okay,’
he thought about it. ‘Bowling? The
fun park? The movies?’
Sara
smiled, obviously having heard the answer she’d expected. ‘Exactly,’ she
replied.
The
rest of the table still looked confused.
‘Clive
Johnson and Mary Gibson, before they went into the desert, went to see a movie.
At the Playhouse. Warrick?
Where did you say George Matthews and his girlfriend went the night they were
abducted?’
‘The Playhouse. Just off the strip,’ Warrick replied with a grin,
catching on.
‘Val
Hunt and Mark Holmes, one of the couples found in the desert just outside
Grissom
was rummaging through the case files on the table. ‘I saw something… in
Ecklie’s case. Rhonda Farrell had a movie ticket stub in her pocket.’ He found
the piece of evidence he was looking for. ‘For the Playhouse.
The night she was killed.’
‘We
found our commonality,’ Catherine said. ‘I would bet a month’s salary that the
rest of the couples were at the same movie theatre.’
‘Makes
sense,’ Warrick reasoned. ‘Place like that? Ideal hunting
ground. Place is coming down with teenaged couples. Especially since
they installed those double seats in all the theatres…’
‘Ah,
the love seats,’ Greg said in a wistful voice. ‘Many a date has become putty in
my hand there…’
Ignoring
him, Grissom turned to Sara. ‘Call Brass. He’s going
to want to put a squad of undercover officers down there tonight.’
‘On
it,’ Sara told him, getting up and heading for the door. She was almost across
the threshold when his voice stopped her.
‘Good
work, Sara.’
She
turned and flashed him her brightest smile. ‘Thanks.’ She hurried off to make
the call.
Grissom
turned back to the rest of his team, and was about to continue the meeting when
he was interrupted by an unwelcome voice.
‘Got
a minute?’ Ecklie asked.
‘Not
really, Conrad,’ Grissom replied. ‘I’m kind of in the middle of a meeting.’
‘Well
your presence is required at another one,’ was the unctuous reply. ‘Director
Cavallo wants a word. Something about your attitude towards
the Mayor.’
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