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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 Thirteen “Oh! There you are,” Sara said, nearly colliding with Grissom as she came out of his office. “I’ve been looking for you. I…uh, just left you a note.” “Why didn’t you page me?” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It wasn’t urgent…if you were busy somewhere else. I’m on my way to PD. They brought in Joe Tharnish for questioning. I figured you’d want to know about it.” He tilted his head curiously. “You did?” His lips pursed mockingly. “In case you want to be there,” she added on a breath. Actually the note had just been a courtesy. Since she had no desire to spend time alone with him, she’d hoped he’d pass on the interrogation. When she couldn’t find him, it had suited her just fine. Judging from his expression, he’d guessed that she hadn’t gone out of her way to find him. But at least the anger was gone from his eyes. In fact, Sara was relieved that they had warmed up considerably. He cupped her elbow in his hand, turned her and steered her in the direction of the exit. He released her almost immediately, but her skin continued to tingle where his fingers had lightly touched her. “Where are we?” he asked absently. She handed him a file. “I got Archie to do some close ups of that video clip from the demonstration at the MGM Grand five years ago.” He opened the folder and examined the print. “It definitely looks like Tharnish.” She nodded. “I sent a copy to Blake. Between that and the syringe we found in Joe’s locker, we figured it was time to bring him in for questioning.” They stepped out into the early morning sun which held a promise of another warm day. At the Tahoe, Grissom slipped on his sunglasses and took the wheel. They drove the short distance to PD in silence. After Grissom’s last encounter with Blake, Sara felt a little apprehensive about this one. If she’d dismissed the non-fraternization policy as ridiculous in the past, she had a new respect for it this morning. By the time they reached the building, she could feel the tension in every muscle of her body. Grissom took off his sunglasses and held the door open for her. As she slid past him into the building, she stole a glance at his face, wondering if he also felt the awkwardness of the moment. But by all appearances, he was just his usual, steady Grissom self, going about his job. As it turned out, they didn’t see Blake before the interview. He was already in the room with the suspect when they arrived, which relieved Sara immeasurably. Why was she so concerned about Grissom and Blake coming face to face again anyway? It’s not as if either of them would let their personal issues affect their working relationship. Deciding that she’d just been reacting to the emotional upheaval of the past few days, she forced herself to relax, take a page out of Grissom’s book and concentrate on the job. “I told Blake I just wanted to observe on this one,” she said as they made their way down the wide corridor to Interrogation Room A. She glanced at him. “In case Joe was just playing on my sympathy before.” “The tears of grown men pave the path to a woman’s heart.” Sara smiled a little. “Something like that.” “Then I should be in yours.” Her eyes darted to him and she came to a halt, so abruptly that her body rocked from the backlash. Grissom closed the rest of the distance to the observation room quickly. As if finally realizing that she was no longer by his side, he turned and stared at her. He raised a brow. “Coming?” It took a moment for her limbs to work. On the surface, these spontaneous comments of his always seemed to contain a hidden message, yet from experience, she knew them to be trivial. But it annoyed her that they still could paralyze her, make her catch her breath, which she did again when he lightly touched the small of her back as she preceded him into the observation room. He closed the door behind them and switched on the audio. On the other side of the two-way mirror, Joe Tharnish was sitting across the table from Blake. A uniformed officer was posted at the door. And on this side, Grissom was standing much too close to her, messing with her concentration. She took a step away, albeit a small one, needing to put some distance between them. His gaze swept her face and briefly settled on her eyes. He didn’t say anything. The only indication that he’d understood the gesture was a twitch of his lips as he returned his attention to the interrogation. Tharnish slumped over the table. “I didn’t do this,” he said for the second time, a catch in his voice. “I loved Amy. I would never hurt her.” “So you say. Look at me,” Blake said coldly. Tharnish straightened in his chair, and faced Blake. Sara saw that his eyes were bloodshot and sad, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. The man was obviously still grieving Amy’s loss. Empathy tugged at her heart again. She had no doubt that he hadn’t meant to hurt Amy, if indeed he had done this. “Okay, let’s say you didn’t mean to kill Amy. But you did want to hurt the Habitat, didn’t you, Joe?” “Why would I want to hurt the Habitat?” Blake slapped the print from the demonstration down on the table in front of Tharnish. “Why don’t you tell me?” Tharnish scanned the photo and blanched. “That was a long time ago!” “Are you saying that your views on...” Blake picked up the image and read the placard that Joe had carried that day, “exotic animals belonging in the wild, not on the Strip, have changed?” “Well, yeah, as long as they’re well-cared for. I met Steve Ryan that day. He invited me to his farm. I saw how he treats his cats. Some species actually survive longer in captivity than they do in the wild, you know. He changed my attitude…that’s what made me decide to specialize in exotic animal care.” Blake leaned forward and laced his fingers. “Okay, since you seem to have an answer for everything, tell me why we found a syringe in your locker that tested positive for PCP.” “Huh? No way. No fucking way!” Joe became agitated. He leaned forward and slammed his fist on the table. “I don’t do drugs. I’ve never done drugs.” “Settle down,” Blake said firmly. Joe leaned back in his chair but his tension could be felt through the two-way mirror. Sara glanced at Grissom. “What do you think?” “His performance is convincing. Are the DNA results in yet?” “No. Greg said it could take another day. But…I don’t know, maybe I’m just…I don’t know. I don’t think he did this.” Grissom looked at her. “I don’t think he did it either.” Sara was surprised by his admission. He usually relied heavily on the evidence, and all the evidence wasn’t in yet. She’d been reluctant to voice an opinion based solely on intuition. If Grissom had formed such opinions in the past, he’d never admitted it, at least not in her presence. That he did now, made him more human somehow. She smiled. He glanced at her briefly. “What?” “Gruesome, Grissom has a heart.” His gaze snapped back to meet hers. He looked…offended. Sara immediately regretted her wisecrack. She’d accused him of being unfeeling in the past, but had never really meant it. There was a difference between being incapable of feeling and being a master at controlling or hiding them. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “That was a bad joke.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his attention back to the interrogation room. Blake was asking Joe about his relationship with Amy. “I’ve already told Sara Sidle from the crime lab all about it.” “Now you get to tell me,” Blake insisted. Joe’s shoulders drooped even lower, his voice matching his stance as he retold the story of his relationship with Amy with as much grief in his voice as had been there when he’d told her about it. Even from this distance behind the two-way mirror, Sara could see the tears forming in his eyes, further convincing her that he never would have put Amy’s life at risk. She could tell the interview was coming to an end. Blake looked at Joe contemplatively, as if trying to decide whether he was telling the truth. Joe wiped at his eyes. Blake looked toward the glass where he knew she’d be listening, a clear indication that she could now enter the interrogation room if she had any questions. She didn’t. “Did you sleep with him?” Her gaze darted to Grissom. What? It took her a moment to fully comprehend what he was asking her. She willed him to look at her, but he didn’t. He stood tensely by her side, his face a mask of granite as he continued to stare through the glass. “You…” she swallowed hard. “You have no right to ask me that.” “Did you sleep with him?” he asked again as if she hadn’t said anything. His voice was as quiet but somehow more purposeful this time, more powerful. “I…” she blinked uncomfortably. She didn’t want to discuss this with him, yet felt compelled to answer as he waited like a wound up coil about ready to snap. “I…slept… with him,“ she said slowly, truthfully. She heard his sharp breath, and saw the workings of his jaw. He didn’t understand. Hell, she didn’t understand. She owed him no explanation, and he didn’t have the right to stand there, acting all out of sorts, as if she’d cheated on him. ‘He doesn’t want me; he just doesn’t want anyone else to have me,’ repeated itself in her brain, but what really haunted her was that guilt gnawing at her insides again. Damn him! She had to explain. “We slept together but—“ He didn’t let her finish. “I’ll wait for you outside.” “Gris—” He yanked the door open, but then stopped and half turned to her. “You know, Sara, contrary to popular opinion, I’m not a robot. I feel, and I bleed like everyone else.” ‘I want you so much it hurts.’ Words, spoken in the throes of passion…she’d let herself believe them, because she’d wanted to believe them. Just like she wanted to believe that the pain she saw on his face now meant something. But whether or not it meant anything, it sliced at her heart and brought a sting of tears to her eyes. She needed to explain, but the door had already closed between them. * * * * * If it had been physically possible to kick himself, Gil would have done it. He shouldn’t have asked her that. He’d already known what her answer would be. Hadn’t he? He suddenly realized that despite all evidence to the contrary, in a corner of his heart, he’d held on to some hope that she hadn’t crossed that line with Garrison. It’s that faint bit of hope that had allowed him to think that he hadn’t completely lost her and that had kept some of the pain at bay. Now that she’d confirmed it, it was burning a hole through his chest. He would have preferred not knowing. Through the rearview mirror, he saw her coming out of the building. She made her way slowly to the Tahoe, her shoulders slumped forward, her eyes trained on the ground. A part of him wanted to tear out of the car and drag her in, take her away somewhere, shield her from the likes of Garrison until she could see no one but him. But another part of him wanted to disappear…to not be there at all. The instinct to retreat again hit him hard. But his desire to stay and fight for her this time was even stronger. A different outcome. That was his goal now, and he couldn’t let anything or anyone make him lose sight of that, not even himself. The minute she climbed into the Tahoe, the air seemed to escape from it. He turned the ignition and backed out of the parking space. He could feel her eyes on him, but he didn’t look at her, not until he heard her heavy sigh and he knew she’d turned away. He glanced at her frequently during the short drive back to the lab, but she never looked back. The tension pricked at him, and although he doubted there was anything he could say or do to relieve it, he looked for something to say. Deciding that work was always a safe subject, he asked, “Did you finish going over those inventories?” A frustrated snort escaped her lips. “Are you kidding? Short of barricading myself up somewhere, I’ll never get this done. Every time someone interrupts I lose count and have to start over on a file.” She glanced at him, but only briefly. “Don’t worry though, I’ll get through it.” “I’m not worried. In fact I’d like you to take the lead on this case.” Whoa, where had that come from? But it did the trick. She turned stunned eyes to him and this time didn’t look away. “You’re removing yourself from the case?” “No. I’ll still work it with you, if you need me. I just want you to be primary on it.” “Why?” Good question. He hated to think his reasons were as personal as simply wanting to please her, or as unprofessional as not wanting to deal with Garrison. He’d have to get used to working with him sooner or later anyway. But because there was some truth in both explanations, he evaded the question and shrugged. “You can do it.” “I know I can do it, but it’s not like you to hand off a case, especially one like this.” He parked the car and turned off the engine. “Sara…if you don’t want it, just say so.” “I want it. I’m just surprised that’s all.” He smiled faintly. He was surprised too. Her hand on his arm stopped him when he reached for the door. “Grissom…I want to explain, about the other night.” “No.” He released a heavy breath. “I really don’t need you to draw me any pictures.” “But—“ “Drop it, Sara…please.” Hell, if anyone had any explaining to do about that night, it was him, and this was hardly the time or place. But the last thing he wanted was to talk about her and Garrison. He doubted he would ever be able to completely erase that image of them together as it was. He didn’t need more details to add to it. Their eyes held a moment longer. He wished he could read all the emotions that passed through hers, but they came so quickly that he couldn’t pinpoint one. He was only struck by an overwhelming sense of sadness, so intense that it almost made him forget his own pain, and for a moment, he wondered if she had any regrets about that night. He’d hurt her, he knew that, but she’d turned to Garrison so easily, how badly hurt could she have been? He knew that men often turned to other women to erase their pain. Hell, he’d done it before. But he didn’t think that women used sex that way. At least not women like Sara. Shaking
his head of that thought, he opened the door.
“Come on,” he said. “It’s
almost end of shift and I still have a ton of paperwork to get
through.” Paperwork was
what he
should have been doing instead of taking off to lick his wounds at BACK IN THE lab, they each took off in separate directions. Gil had almost reached his office when his secretary intercepted him. “Cavallo called. He said he wanted to see you in his office as soon as you got back.” Gil closed his eyes briefly and shook his head in frustration. What now? But he had a fairly good idea what this was about. He only heard from Cavallo when there was a problem, and this time he strongly suspected he was the problem. Sure enough, Robert was waiting for him with a tape of the news broadcast cued up in his VCR. At first, neither of them spoke as they watched the events at the ranch unfold, but Gil quickly lost patience. “I’ve seen this already, Robert. Get to the point.” Cavallo ignored his protest and let the tape run a few more seconds before stopping it and swiveling back to face Gil. “That was a foolish thing to do,” he said evenly. He didn’t look all that upset about it. “I realize that. But it’s done. What do you want me to say? That it won’t happen again? It’s unlikely.” “Glad to hear it. But your recklessness with the lions is not what concerns me.” Gil eyed him curiously. “Then what does concern you, Robert?” The lab director pointed the remote control to the VCR. It took only a few seconds for Gil to understand why he’d been summoned to his office, and when he did, he sat forward, his mouth dropping open. He clearly saw what Cavallo had seen, what anyone watching this clip would see…not him giving an employee who’d just come within a breath of being mauled by a lion a friendly, comforting hug, but him clinging to Sara like a dying man clings to a lifeline. He held her strongly against him, his lips and his hand in her hair—he didn’t even remember doing that. Hell, if he’d still been in the dark about the true nature of his feelings for her, these images would have driven it home to him. “Where did you get this?” Cavallo
turned off the television and dropped the remote control on his desk.
“This is what everyone watching the Gil didn’t know what to say. This conversation with Cavallo had to happen sooner or later, but frankly, he would have preferred it to be later. He didn’t need this complication now when his relationship with Sara was still on shaky grounds. He quickly decided that the best defense was a good offense, but before he could formulate an answer, Cavallo spoke again. “I overlooked allegations of a romantic relationship between you and Ms. Sidle during the Havilland preliminary hearing. I accepted her explanation on the stand because I had no reason to believe otherwise. But I saw you dance with her the other night, and after this I am obligated to take this up with you.” “So…are you going to throw the Policy and Procedures manual at me, Robert?” “Are you admitting to being intimately involved with her?” Gil’s lip twitched with humor. “Define intimate.” “You know the policy as well as I do. I’m talking about physical intimacy.” “By whose definition? Yours or Clinton’s.” “I don’t think it’s in your best interest to joke about this. I don’t have to warn you of the dangers of a fling with an employee—for the department and for you. There’s always the danger of favoritism, conflict of interest, breeches of confidentiality, and if this thing doesn’t work out, productivity losses, disruption in the team, not to mention you could be charged with sexual harassment,” he warned anyways, but then Cavallo had always loved hearing the sound of his voice. “Rules exist for a reason, Gil.” Gil snorted. “I read the book, Robert, but we both know that corporate America is much more tolerant of office relationships nowadays. Even the military is reviewing their policy. Our rules were written decades ago.” Cavallo’s eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me you’re going to disregard our policy so you can carry on with this girl?” Gil held on to his temper with difficulty. If there ever was a time for political astuteness, this was it. He swallowed his pride and said evenly, “I am not now carrying on with Sara as you put it, and I never have. But this is as good a time as any to tell you that I have every intention of pursuing a relationship with her. And I’m not talking about a fling. So what we should be discussing is the department’s unwritten policy in that regard.” Cavallo looked at him steadily for a moment, then leaned back in his chair and mounted his fingers in a steeple. “Okay. I can see you’re serious about this. We’d have to do something about the reporting structure. Transferring her to day shift is an option.” “Ha! Work for Ecklie. Sara would never go for that. You try transferring her to Ecklie’s team and she’ll quit.” “Well, I hate to be the one to point this out to you, Gil, but if this young woman wants a relationship with you as badly as you appear to want one with her, she will have to sacrifice something. But I certainly don’t want to lose her. I read the reports…she’s one of our best CSIs.” He looked up quickly. “I assume your reports are objective.” Gil threw him an annoyed glance. But he had to think about the consequences for Sara. He certainly didn’t want her to have to turn her life upside down as a condition of a relationship with him. He could never ask that of her. Hell, he didn’t even know if there ever would be a relationship with her. He quelled the thought. He had to believe there was still a chance. “If there’s a sacrifice to be made, I don’t want her to be the one to have to make it.” “You’re backing me into a corner, Gil. If there’s a choice to be made--" Gil didn’t want him to finish that thought. “Then I guess we’ll just have to be more creative,” he interrupted, liking the way he’d worded that. They shared the problem now, so if—when—it came up again, they’d be on the same side. Maybe his surgery had cured more than his otosclerosis. There was something to be said about not being politically tone-deaf. “I trust you will come to me if anything develops with Ms. Sidle?” Gil stood and smiled. “You’ll be the second to know.” When he reached the door, Cavallo stopped him. “Grissom,” he said. “Good luck. But be careful.” “Thank you.” THERE WAS NO masking his good mood when he returned to the lab. He didn’t know if it was because he’d just side-stepped a land mine, or if it was because talking about his intentions where Sara was concerned made them more real…more achievable. It didn’t matter. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time. The yellow police tape blocking the entrance to the layout room caught his attention. He stopped and peered through the gaps in the crisscross made by the tape. Sara was hunched over the table, a stack of files in front of her. He smiled. If this was her idea of barricading herself, he knew where to go for creativity if—when—the time came for him and Cavallo to find a solution to their problem. He cleared his throat to get her attention. She looked up with a scowl, but her face cleared when she saw it was him. “Grissom…damn, you made me lose count.” “I'm sorry…Uh, what’s the penalty for breaking through this thing?” She smiled prettily, the kind of smile that had always tugged at his heart. “Do it and you’ll find out.” “I’ll take my chances,” he said on a breath as he broke the tape and entered the room. She laid her head in her hand, pushing the hair back from her face. She looked tired, worn out actually, and he so wanted to touch her, rub the tension out of her shoulders. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s an hour past end of shift. What are you still doing here?” She gave him a wry smile. “Trying to finish this. That makeshift barricade didn’t help,” she said pointing with her chin to the door with the yellow police tape which was now falling like idle ribbons around it. “It just attracted more attention.” She briefly returned his smile. God, how he wanted to touch her…hell he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. His heart pumped strongly and steadily, each beat a mixture of pain and pleasure, just from looking at her. He could only imagine what it would feel like to make love to her. “This would be easier with help, you know,” he said, hoping she’d remember his promise. “Are you volunteering?” “I could be talked into it. But there is a condition.” “Oh?” “Let’s get out of here. We can do it at my place where there won’t be any interruptions.” She looked surprised. Then her eyes darkened and she looked away. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she murmured. “I’ll throw in breakfast.” “Grissom…” He could feel her distancing herself from him. “It’s work, Sara,” he said quickly. “And it makes sense. We do need to get this done, and I can understand that it’s not easy around here.” “True, but why your place?” “Because I say so.” “I’m primary on this case, remember. I make the decisions.” “That’s just a technicality. I’m still your boss, so I decide,” he teased, hoping that he wasn’t coming on too strong. He held his breath while she pondered his invitation. He could see the conflict in her eyes and wondered if he was pushing too hard, too fast. She didn’t trust him. That was clear. Maybe he was pushing it. He was just about to let her off the hook, when she relented. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”
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