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by LSI |
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Chapters: Prologue 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18
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Chapter One TWO
WEEKS HAD passed since Grissom’s bedside rejection.
That day, after leaving the hospital, Sara had driven home and
gone straight to bed stopping just long enough to strip to her
underwear. The shades drawn,
she’d lain in the semi-darkness hugging her pillow, letting the tears
she’d been holding back slide quietly down her cheeks.
She hadn’t tried to stop them, nor had she tried to douse the
steady burn in her chest for she’d finally understood that she needed
to start grieving the end of their relationship. That
it had been an imaginary relationship was of no consequence.
To her, it had felt real. In
an attempt to rationalize how she could have been so mistaken about
Grissom’s feelings for her, she’d allowed herself to examine past
events indiscriminately—favouring neither happy nor unhappy
memories—so that her features would at times transform into a smile
that would lift the corners of her mouth and redirect the flow of tears
past the dimples in her cheeks, or into a frown borne of anger that
would manifest itself by a tighter hold on her pillow, but mostly into a
heart wrenching sadness, too spent was she to sob. It
had felt like the end of an era. It
was the end of her life as she’d known it.
All the little romantic scenarios she’d concocted in her mind
in her last wakeful moments of each day had shattered like a sheet of
tempered glass into a thousand little pieces.
All that was left was his voice coldly repeating over and over in
her head, “I really didn’t want you here.” Sara
had eventually dozed off clutching her tear-drenched pillow, but even in
her fitful sleep she hadn’t been able to escape him.
His derisive laughter had echoed in her ears and although she
hadn’t been able to see him, his voice had carried over a great
distance chanting ‘I don’t want you, I don’t want you…’
She’d tried to drown out the words, had put her hands over her
ears and screamed at the voice to stop, but it hadn’t. Then
all the other voices had joined in, but their owners had been visible,
circling her, mocking her…’He doesn’t want you, he doesn’t want
you’ she’d heard Catherine, Warrick and Nick cry through their
laughter just before waking up, heart pounding, her body drenched in
sweat. The tears had started
again and sleep for the rest of that night had eluded her.
The
next day, the entire team had met for Detective Lockwood’s funeral.
She’d been bone weary and withdrawn but given the
circumstances, no one had questioned her mood.
When Catherine had relayed Grissom’s condolences to
Lockwood’s family, Sara had felt her first real pang of jealousy.
Confusion had quickly set in.
She’d
never seriously thought that Catherine’s relationship with Grissom was
anything other than friendship. Well,
maybe the thought had crossed her mind a long time ago, but she’d
dismissed the idea. They’d
known each other for such a long time; heck, he’d known both her and
Eddie way before their marriage had broken up…he’d even helped her
get into crime scene investigation.
There had always been a special connection between them, but now
she wondered if there have been more to it?
Catherine was the one person everyone automatically went to for
news of Grissom as if that should be expected.
Had she missed something all these years?
Or perhaps just turned a blind eye to something she didn’t want
to see? She’d been wrong
about Grissom; could she also have been wrong about the nature of his
relationship with Catherine? The
thought had almost made her sick and she’d yearned for the past again,
for a time not that long ago before she’d handed Grissom her heart and
he’d rejected it, before she had forced a resolution to their
relationship, before this jealousy of Catherine that had begun to
consume her. Her
daydreams might not have been fulfilling, but at least they hadn’t
been this painful. God,
help me get over this! So
she’d tried to push aside her feelings of jealousy and even succeeded
in appearing interested when Catherine had delivered her daily reports
about Grissom’s progress, which made it all the more obvious she was
in regular contact with him. Unlike
the others, however, Sara had never asked questions or initiated the
discussion. And when a
‘get well’ card had circulated, she’d crossed her name off the
distribution slip, but hadn’t signed it.
She’d already delivered her best wishes in person, beating
Hallmark to the punch, and given his reaction, she hadn’t seen the
point of doing it again. She’d
begun distancing herself from him. Two
weeks, however, had not been long enough to regain control of her
emotions. Grissom was due
back at work tonight, but she didn’t feel steady enough yet to see
him. She thought of calling
in sick, but that would be so out of character she feared it would only
raise questions. The last
thing she needed was to be the topic of the next bout of speculations at
work. She felt trapped.
Her heart was not ready for this.
How could she pretend to be unaffected by his presence? Suddenly
an idea came to her. Calling
in sick was not an option, but perhaps there was another.
Making her way to the living room, Sara picked up the phone and
dialled Catherine’s number. “Willows,”
she answered after the first ring. “Hi,
Catherine.” “Hi,”
she said, a hint of surprise in her voice.
“What’s up, Sara?” “Since
Grissom is coming back to work tonight, the lab won’t be short-staffed
anymore. So, would it be
okay if I took a few days off?” Catherine
was silent for a moment. “Sure…I
guess,” she said. “You
probably have a ton of vacation days left.
I don’t see why that would be a problem.”
“Thanks,
Cath. I’ll be back in a
few days.” “Sara?” “Yes.” Catherine
paused then said, “Never mind. Enjoy
your time off.” Sara
spent the evening convincing herself this had been the right thing to
do. Surely Grissom
wouldn’t feel any more comfortable in her presence.
She was only too painfully aware of how embarrassing her advances
must have been for him. ‘I’m
probably the last person he wants to see on his first day back
anyway.’ Her
absence would also give him time to adjust. THE
TRILL OF the phone woke Sara from another restless sleep.
Disoriented at first, she thought the phone was part of her
dream, but when it kept ringing, she dragged herself from bed and groped
her way to the living room in the dark, stifling a yawn. “Hello,”
she said groggily. “Sara.”
Her name was delivered casually enough, but her heart pounded at
the sound of his voice; a rush of emotions flooded through her,
rendering her almost speechless. She
cleared her throat. “Grissom?” “Did
I wake you? I’m sorry,”
he said so gently that for a split second she wondered again if this was
a dream. She
fell back on the couch and closed her eyes.
Why on earth is he calling me? “What
time is it?” “ “Oh.”
An awkward silence ensued. “Grissom,
why are you calling?” “I
have an unusual case I thought you’d be interested in.” Of
course. It had to be about
work. Had she really
entertained the idea that he could be calling about anything else? “I’m
off…can’t you get someone else?” “No;
unfortunately everybody’s busy tonight.” On
a resigned sigh, she said, “What is it?” “A
lion at the MGM Grand Habitat attacked one of the handlers.
They called in CSI.” “Why?” “Suspicious
circs. I don’t have all
the details yet. That’s
what we need to find out.” “Uh…this
is with you?” Pause. Then,
“Yes. It’s with me.
Is that a problem, Sara?” Is
that a problem! Oh no,
Grissom, why would that be a problem? “No,”
she lied. Another
pause. Finally,
“Okay then, meet me there as soon as you can.”
He hung up. Well
goodbye to you too! DESPITE
THE LATE hour, a crowd of curious bystanders still littered the entrance
to the MGM Grand’s Lion Habitat. Some
were being interrogated by police officers, while others were huddled
together speculating on what had happened.
Lifting the yellow police tape, Sara crossed the corded-off area
and approached a young officer who directed her to the second floor. She
remembered from her one visit to the Habitat not long after moving to Tonight,
she bypassed the tunnel and paused before she opened a door clearly
marked ‘Do not enter.’ Another
threat lay beyond that door; he’d be close enough to touch but there
wouldn’t be anything protecting her from the danger he represented to
her already broken heart.
Sara
took a deep breath and opened the door.
She paused again on the rocky floor of the Habitat, momentarily
distracted by how real the jungle environment they’d simulated for the
lions looked, complete with lofty rock surfaces and waterfalls.
In the distance she spotted Grissom crouched over the body next
to David. She took a moment
to observe him. He looked
good. A little thinner than
he’d been of late, but otherwise the same animated Grissom she was
accustomed to seeing at crime scenes.
She
smiled; it wasn’t his fault she’d fallen in love with him.
Everything considered he’d been gracious about it; in fact, her
discomfort stemmed much more from her advances than anything he’d ever
done. Except for the ‘I
really didn’t want you here,’ comment, but he’d been under the
effect of the anaesthetic when he’d delivered it, which explained his
lack of courtesy. Like a
drunken man, he’d voiced exactly how he felt without the buffer of
good manners; but Sara knew him well enough to understand that he
wouldn’t deliberately be cruel even if his words still stung. As
if sensing her presence, he looked up.
He didn’t smile, didn’t frown, his face didn’t communicate
anything. It was blank.
She could have been Nick or Warrick or anyone else for that
matter that might have deserved only a little acknowledgement.
Her smile faltered as she approached them. “Hi,”
she said coolly, briefly meeting Grissom’s gaze to then settle on
David’s face. “What have
we got?” she said, returning David’s clumsy smile. Grissom
rose and came to join her on the other side of the body.
“Not much,” he said. “Lion
attacked one of the handlers, name’s Amy Wilcox; the trainer, a Steve
Ryan, came in when he heard the commotion and shot the lion with a
tranquilizer dart.” “Lucky
lion,” she said before she could think.
Grissom looked at her quizzically.
“So anything here to suggest foul play?” she asked. “Nothing
concrete yet. But the
question is: why would the lion suddenly attack one of its handlers?” “Looked
at it the wrong way, maybe,” she said sarcastically.
Grissom frowned. What
was wrong with her? She
really hadn’t meant to sound disrespectful, a young woman was dead
after all, but she realized that’s exactly how it had come out. “Sorry,”
she added. “So why were we called here?” Sara
had never been so unenthusiastic about a case, especially one in which
she got to work with Grissom. He
seemed as surprised as she by her attitude.
He looked at her long and hard before answering.
“The
lion not only attacked her, it took a big bite out of her.”
He looked down at the victim and Sara’s gaze followed noticing
for the first time the big gash in the woman’s side.
That piqued her interest. “I
read somewhere that lions don’t like human flesh.” “I
read the same thing. So why
would this lion want to make a meal of our victim?” “He
was hungry,” Sara said. “That’s
the most plausible explanation.” “Aren’t
these lions well cared for?” “They’re
supposed to be. I briefly
talked to the vet who checks them before bringing them into the Habitat
earlier; he said there was nothing unusual about this lion.
It was a routine exam.” “They’re
kept at a farm about twelve miles outside Vegas, aren’t they?” “How
did you know that?” asked Grissom. “If
you want to learn about forensics, master everything else first,” she
quoted. “Didn’t you say
that once?” Grissom
shot her a cynical glance. “Okay,
I’ve taken the tour.” He
grinned and she thought she saw a hint of admiration in his eyes.
She looked away, warmed by the fact that they’d overcome an
awkward moment, and hopeful for the first time that they would someday
re-establish the ease with which they’d always worked.
Giving
the 5,000 square-foot simulated jungle a cursory glance, she said,
“I’ll start looking around, see if there are any clues that would
explain why this happened.” “Okay,
but don’t expect too much. I
suspect this is not our crime scene.”
Sara
had figured as much but didn’t say it.
She quietly went about her job, taking photos of the victim and
the areas surrounding her as Grissom moved in the opposite direction
pointing his Maglite here and there, looking for anything that might
shed light on this attack. “Sara.”
Grissom’s voice echoed to her. He
was crouched over an item she couldn’t identify from where she stood.
She picked up her case and walked towards him.
“What have you got?” She
knelt down on one knee beside him. “Tranquilizer
dart. Would you bag it,
please?” Setting
the camera down, she took an evidence envelope from her case and picked
up the dart, careful to touch as little of it as possible with her
gloved hand. David was
overseeing the removal of the body. “Well,
guys, I’m almost done here,” Brass said as he joined them.
Sara looked up at him and noticed two men hovering near a door
that she’d learned led to the lion’s hidden entrance to the Habitat.
He followed her gaze. “The
vet, Doctor Jacobs and Kevin Foster, another handler,” he said.
Having collected the dart, Sara carefully placed the envelope in
her case and closed it. She
picked up her camera and stood. “A
new detective will be taking over this case… Lockwood’s
replacement,” he said on a sigh. “He’s
talking to the trainer now, but he should be done soon and I’d like
you to meet him before you leave.” “We’ll
need blood samples from the lion, but otherwise we’re done here,”
Grissom said. “The
vet’s been cooperating. He
took a sample before the lion was shipped back to the ranch.
Here it is,” he handed Sara a vial and a Chain of Custody form.
“Thanks,”
she said, opening her case again to retrieve another envelope. “Okay,”
Grissom said. “We need to
get back to the lab. I have
an autopsy to attend and Sara has to take the evidence in.
I want to go to the ranch in the morning…Sara,” he turned to
her, “are you up for some overtime?” She
smiled. Of course she was.
“Sure.” Grissom
looked at Brass. “We’ll
wait for you outside. Don‘t
be too long.” “We’ll
be right out. The new guy
can fill you in on what we found out from the trainer and these two,”
he threw a glance over at the two men who were still quietly observing
them. With
a nod to Brass, Grissom led the way out a door directly opposite the one
she’d entered earlier. They
exited near the gift shop on the second floor.
Like the tunnel which led directly into it, it was completely
glassed in. Glancing at the
variety of stuffed toys and collectibles—mostly lions—displayed in
the window, Sara snorted. “What?”
Grissom slowed his step. “Did
you know you have to go through this shop when you come out of the
tunnel? They don’t charge
admittance to the Habitat, but they certainly get visitors on the way
out.” “With
overpriced souvenirs.” “Yeah…”
Sara stopped abruptly, an exquisite crystal elephant about ten inches
high if you counted the length of its trunk, having caught her
attention. Grissom
stopped beside her. “See
something you like?” “I
used to collect elephants,” she said wistfully.
She cast him a sideways glance and smiled.
“This is a beaut.” “Too
bad the shop is closed.” “Are
you kidding? Did you see the
price tag on this thing?” she said.
“Besides, I don’t collect them anymore.” “Why
did you stop?” She
lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I’d
heard they bring luck. I
guess I eventually realized it was all a hoax and gave up on them.” “How
many did you have?” “Oh,
about thirty. I’m a slow
learner.” He
smiled and she wondered why she’d told him any of this.
When it came, the answer shocked her.
She wanted him to know her, not CSI Sara Sidle, and how she felt
about their cases and the criminals that kept them employed, but Sara
Sidle, the woman. It
unnerved her that despite everything she still hadn’t completely given
up on him. What would it
take for her to move on—short of leaving Las Vegas,
something she really didn’t want to do anymore?
Vaguely
aware of Grissom’s gaze on her, she continued to stare at the glass
elephant in the window, not really seeing it; she was so engrossed in
thought that she didn’t hear Brass's approach. “Grissom,
Sara, meet our new detective, Blake Garrison.” Sara whipped around, her eyes meeting very familiar ones. “Blake!” she exclaimed, her heart jumping to her throat. She felt rather than saw the astonishment in two other pairs of eyes. Blake just looked amused...and not surprised at all. He smiled. “Hello, Princess.
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