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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 Seventeen By the time Sara made it back to the lab, she had worked herself into a less miserable mood. It’s not as if she wasn’t used to disappointment where Grissom was concerned. She’d had plenty of time and opportunity to get used to it, and if not completely immune to the pain of loving him, she’d at least found ways to re-channel it into a more positive energy. So
she had only two things on her mind as she returned to the lab:
solving this case and counting the hours until she could leave
for “I was just about to page you,” Greg said to her as she entered his lab. “Check this out.” She glanced at the two reports he handed her, her excitement mounting as she took in the results. “We’ve got him,” she exclaimed, her mind racing. “They’re just preliminary tests.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I know, but with our short list of suspects, I’d say it’s pretty conclusive. Now the only unanswered question is whether he intended for Amy to be killed.” “I might have something for you on that too. I remembered what you said about lions not normally feeding on human flesh and I did a little research while you were out. I came across this article on the Internet.” Greg
handed her a print-out of the article.
It was about a zookeeper in “Interesting idea, Greg. Amy wouldn’t have been in contact with the food though. The lions are fed before they’re brought in to the Habitat. The handlers only feed them little treats, more like a cereal mix—“ She stopped as it became obvious Greg was no longer listening to her. He stared at something behind her and she turned to follow the direction of his gaze. Her heart thudded dully when she saw Grissom standing in the doorway. “Oh. Hi.” “You’re back.” His voice sounded rough as if it had scratched past something in his throat. He held her gaze for a moment then flicked it to Greg. “She just got here,” Greg said defensively, lifting his palms in a ward-off manner. Sara looked at the two men quizzically, wondering what this was all about. Had he enlisted Greg to keep an eye out for her? Nah…that was almost too ludicrous for thought. Deciding an apology for her disappearance was in order—he was still her boss, after all—she eyed him steadily. “Sorry about, uh…taking off like that. I was just about to go let you know I’m back when I got distracted by the test results,” she lied. He dropped his head in a slow and brief nod of acceptance, but his eyes told her he didn’t believe her. At this point, however, she didn’t give a hoot what he believed. She owed him respect as her employer, but that’s where it stopped. Grissom’s mood remained glum as Greg and Sara brought him up to date on the test results and Greg’s theory on the nature of the attack. “We didn’t find any food at the Habitat. So how would Amy have come into contact with it or end up with some of it on her clothes?” he asked neither of them in particular. Greg lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Maybe it was deliberately put there.” “Possible…” Sara piped in. “If Foster really wanted her dead, he could have tipped the odds in his favor by staining her clothes with it. None of the lockers had a lock on it, so he had access to her T-shirts at least, and as a handler, he would know the dangers of carrying the scent of meat on them.” Grissom considered this, and shook his head. “She would have noticed a stain and changed.” He was right, Sara thought, she would have done that. Unless… Her eyes flew to Grissom. “What did we find in all the lockers except for Amy’s?” Grissom narrowed his eyes as he thought back. “A change of clothes...” he finally said slowly, a satisfied smile touching his lips. “Yep, everybody had two or three extra shirts in their locker and I remember thinking it was odd that Amy didn’t. So…if Foster really planned it this way, he may have confiscated her T-shirts to make sure she couldn’t change. It’s a long shot—“ “But the last one paid off,” Grissom completed her thought. “There’s only one way to find out.” He tipped his head in the direction of the door. “Shall we?” Sara smiled, Grissom’s sudden good mood rubbing off on her. Grissom left the lab, but Sara didn’t follow immediately. She turned to Greg and delivered on an old promise. She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him towards her. She then very deliberately kissed him full on the mouth. “You’re a genius, Greg. Thank you.” As she turned on her heels to follow Grissom, she saw her favorite lab technician fall back into his chair, stunned, and couldn’t contain a smile. A HALF HOUR later, Sara and Grissom had cut a side-seam of the T-shirt Amy had worn the night she was killed and had spread it out into one larger flat piece of fabric. They’d also blocked off sections of the shirt in a grid pattern and were swabbing each section from opposite ends of the grid toward the center. A part of the front had been ripped off, but most of the shirt was intact. If they could prove that Foster had tampered with Amy’s T-shirt to precipitate the attack, it would escalate the charge against him to first-degree murder. Remembering her distasteful encounter with Foster, Sara looked forward to seeing him locked away for a very long time. After a long period of companionable silence working beside Grissom, she heard him say, “You know, if Foster removed the extra T-shirts from Amy’s locker he may not have been smart enough to dispose of them.” “Right,” Sara said, annoyed that it hadn’t occurred to her first. “Excuse me.” She moved away from the table and flipped open her cell phone. Blake picked up on the second ring. “Hey it’s me. Got Foster in custody?” “Sure do, on some traffic violations. But I can’t hold him forever. How’s it going?” “Good. Keep him. We hit the jackpot.” Sara quickly briefed him on the blood they’d found on the latex glove and needle and their new theory on how Foster might have engineered the attack. “Can you grab a warrant and search his house and his car? Gris and I are processing the shirt now.” “Okay, I’ll get on it right away.” “Thanks.” “Does
that mean we’ll be leaving for Sara shot Grissom a quick glance. He was still working on the grid, and if he was listening to her conversation with Blake, he did a good impression of pretending he wasn’t. Just in case, however, she chose her words carefully as she answered his question. “Yeah, looks that way. Is that okay with you?” “I can be ready at a moment’s notice. I’ve already told Brass I want him to take over this case since I can’t put off closing my apartment in San Fran.” “Great. I’ll call you later then.” All the pieces were falling neatly into place, it seemed. Sara wondered if it was a sign that she was doing the right thing. She didn’t use to believe in signs, but lately, she found she was looking for some deeper meaning into everything. She still had one roadblock to conquer however, and she doubted that one would be as easy. She
closed the mouth-piece of her cell phone and went back to swabbing the
T-shirt. She was wondering
if she should broach the difficult subject of her imminent move to “We need to talk, you know,” he said softly, tilting his head for a quick glance at her. She let out a frustrated sigh. “I know,” she said, swabbing the last of her section of grid. Grissom was also on his last square. “I’ll get these swabs to Greg and meet you in your office—if that’s okay.” He straightened and looked at her broodingly. It looked like he was going to say something else and then changed his mind. He pulled off his gloves and nodded, forcing a smile that barely reached his lips, let alone his eyes, and he was gone. She started collecting the swabs. Their quiet work had soothed her and had reminded her how much she enjoyed working by his side. She would miss it. Hell, she would miss him! Her throat tightened as an unexpected wave of emotions swept through her. Cliff’s reaction to her call had sounded so promising…he might have something for her. Soon, she thought, perhaps before the month was up, Vegas, this lab, Grissom…they would be nothing more than a memory. And the thought of never seeing him again just about tore her apart. It hurt. Oh, God, it hurt. A hot tear rolled down her cheek, at once surprising her and snapping her out of her misery. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry over that man anymore. She’d made a decision, a good one, and in time, the hurt too would only be a memory. If she stayed, she feared she would never really be free of pain. She wiped her damp cheek on the sleeve of her lab coat and went to see Greg, who greeted her with a shy smile and a nervous wave. “Uh, Greg…another big favor.” She dropped the stack of swabs on his desk. “From the shirt. Sorry.” “For you, anything.” Sara smiled warmly. “Thanks, Greg.” “You can thank me later,” he said raising a brow suggestively. She pursed her lips at him in a mock reprimand. He had always been good for her ego, and she realized that after Grissom, Greg is the one she’d miss the most. She wondered how he’d react when he learned the news of her transfer. She wondered how all of them would react. Nick and Warrick she was certain would take it in stride; Catherine would undoubtedly be pleased, and Grissom…well, she was about to find out. She approached his office a little reluctantly, and stopped to take a calming breath before stepping up to his doorway. He was sitting quietly at his desk, fingers mounted in a steeple in front of his mouth, his eyes downcast so that he didn’t immediately see her. She looked at him for a few seconds before announcing her presence with a gentle knock on the door. Although he’d been expecting her, he seemed startled when he looked up at her. He cleared his throat. “Come in.” She did as he asked and took the seat across from his desk. He stood and went to close the door. When he came back into the room, he didn’t go back to his chair; instead, he approached her and half leaned, half sat on the edge of the desk, facing her. Sara felt his eyes on her for a long silent moment, and suddenly wished she’d remained standing. It took all the courage she possessed to finally drag her gaze up to his. Deciding to ease into the conversation, she said, “Greg’s going to put a rush on the swabs, although there’s no real urgency anymore. It’s not like Foster’s going anywhere.” Grissom’s lips twitched humorously. “How many kisses did that cost you?” She stopped, dumfounded, but relaxed when she realized he really was teasing her. “You saw that?” “There’s not much I miss when it comes to you,” he deadpanned. “Poor Greg. You do realize he won’t let you forget that.” She
lifted a shoulder in a shrug and smiled, but it quickly faded.
“In light of what I’m about to tell you, I don’t think it
will be an issue.” She
felt rather than saw him brace himself and she took a deep breath.
“I’ve decided to move back to He was silent for a moment, and then he said huskily, “I know.” Sara was shocked as much by his response than by the quiet acceptance in his voice. Perhaps this wouldn’t be as difficult as she’d expected after all. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or hurt. In the end, she surmised she was a little of both. Unable to sit still under his steady gaze any longer, she got out of the chair and went to stand behind it, using the chair back for support. Grissom didn’t move. “When you were out earlier,” he continued, “I got a call from Cliff Burns.” This was the last thing she’d expected to hear. “Why? I mean, why would he call you?” “He wanted to know if I thought you were ready for an assistant supervisor position. He figured I already knew you were looking for another job.” “I’m sorry about that. I wanted to tell you… An assistant supervisor position?” Grissom nodded. “Well, that’s unexpected. What did you tell him?” He contemplated his shoes for a moment, and then looked at her pointedly. He shrugged. “Not what I wanted to tell him.” “Which is…” “That you’re not ready.” His voice thickened. “Sara, I don’t want you to leave.” The way he said it, the way he looked at her when he said it, was almost her undoing. She took a deep breath to steady the flutter in her heart. If only she could believe that he wasn’t just thinking of the lab. She gave her head a quick shake. She’d been there, done that, got the plant. Catherine’s idea. And the elephant. Also Catherine’s idea? Now that she thought of it, the woman had jumped a little too quickly to the conclusion that it was from Grissom. Had he discussed her with Catherine again? Sara swallowed back the lump that rose to her throat, and moved away from the chair, desperate for more distance and the emotional control she hoped came with it. The jarred radiated fetal pig on one of his shelves failed in its mission to nauseate her today as she stared at it, unseeing. It was just a thing to focus on while she regained control of herself. She had to remain professional. “I’m flattered that you think so highly of me, Grissom,” she finally said with such formality, she could have easily slipped a Dr. before his name and it would have sounded natural, “but it’s time I move on. And now it seems, move up.” She flashed him a smile over her shoulder. “I’ll give you the expected two week’s notice as soon as I make a final decision on Cliff’s job offer, but I do need a few days off to go see him. I’d like to leave later today, if that’s okay with you.” She glanced at her watch. “I still have some paperwork to do on this case, but I should be finished by end of shift.” As she talked, she’d walked away from the pickled piglet and was now standing in front of his terrarium. She looked at his pet tarantula and felt something crawl over her skin. An intense shudder rippled through her. His office reminded her of the things they didn’t have in common. How could she be so attracted to a man who was so attracted to creepy-crawlers? “Cold?” Grissom had moved stealthily up behind her so that she jumped when she felt his hand on her back. She quickly moved away from him and rubbed her arms absently. “No,” she smiled quickly. “I just never got used to that thing,” she said indicating the terrarium with a slight nod of her head. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “What is it about the spider that frightens you?” he asked gently. “I don’t know. But every time I look at this one my skin crawls.” He seemed to consider her answer for a moment, and then, much to her horror, he opened the lid of the terrarium and scooped the tarantula up into the palm of his hand. “Uh…Grissom, what are you doing?” Sara asked, taking a step back. “I learned something in the past couple of months,” he said, turning to face her. “The only way to conquer your fears is to meet them dead on. Sara, meet Charlie.” Sara crinkled her brow, and another shudder passed through her as she looked at the furry spider with the black and orange legs moving up and down in Grissom’s hand. “Uh, Charlie?” she asked, her voice strangled. Grissom
smiled. “Male, for Despite her discomfort from being this close to the spider, she couldn’t help a flash of humor at the name he’d chosen for his pet tarantula. He took a step closer to her, and this time, Sara held her ground. It really did appear harmless now that she looked at it up-close, seemingly content in the palm of his hand. And it looked much softer than she’d expected. “You know, the tarantula’s touch is very gentle. And it’s a relatively harmless creature if you handle it correctly. Would you like to try?” “Ah…I don’t think so.” He held out his hand to her. “Trust me, Sara.” Absently wondering if there was another, broader message in his words, she reluctantly let him take her hand in his and turn her palm up. “Relax,” he said softly as he placed her hand adjacent to his and tilted his hand a little so the tarantula could easily crawl into hers. Goosebumps rose on her body when the furry creature first came into contact with her skin. It tickled at first, as one leg after another lifted then settled back on her hand. Grissom was right, though. The tarantula’s touch was extremely soft, and her fascination with the small creature grew as she allowed her irrational fear to slip away. She looked up at Grissom and responded to his smile with one of her own. “See,” he said huskily, “I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you.” Sara stiffened. His message was now coming across loud and clear. But he had already hurt her, over and over again he’d hurt her. Whether or not it had been intentional was of little consequence to her broken heart. As if sensing the sudden change in her, Grissom removed the spider from her hand and returned it to the terrarium. There was something tentative in his manner when he turned to face her. “I know what Catherine said hurt you—“ “I really don’t want to talk about that.” He took a step in her direction. “Sara—“ She took a step back. “Grissom, don’t. I came here to ask for four days off, not to rehash the past. Are you going to give them to me or not?” “There’s no reason why you can’t take time off,” he stated just as bluntly, then shut his eyes and took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice had softened to a gentle plea. “Sara, will you please let me explain?” She swallowed painfully. She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but she didn’t have the energy to relive the past and she was beginning to regret letting him draw her into his little intimate diversion—if she could call meeting his pet tarantula an intimate moment. Yet it had felt like that. Just like when he’d invited her to his house and cooked her breakfast. Or the night he’d helped her up to her apartment and gently tended to her injuries. Or when he’d said she was beautiful sitting in the bleachers at a hockey rink. Or for that matter, every time he’d doled out his compliments at the most unexpected time, only to walk away, the moment immediately forgotten. They’d just been words to him, while they had meant so much to her. And when she’d found the courage to suggest they explore a relationship, he’d given her a blank stare and categorically refused. And
now, he was trying to seduce her into changing her mind about relocating
to He had to understand that. “Grissom…” she closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again, she found his focused intently on her. “You need to know that this, this seduction act of yours…it’s not going to work anymore.” She saw something flicker in his eyes. Surprise? Was he going to pretend again that he had no idea what she was talking about? “Sara…” “No, please, let me finish. It used to be…umm…flattering, but…” she shook her head in frustration. “Ah…I don’t know quite how to say this. The point is...the things Catherine said made me see that I don’t really know you.” His head jerked as if she’d slapped him. “What do you mean?” “The things you did…they’re not the actions of the man I thought you were,” she said, annoyed that her voice shook. His eyes narrowed, and then gradually, his confusion registered on his brow. “Catherine put her own spin on things.” “Are you saying she lied to me?” He dropped his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. There was an air of resignation in the breath he took as he slowly shook his head. “No.” “I didn’t think so.” She turned away, hoping that she’d been quick enough to keep him from seeing the hurt she knew had flashed in her eyes. She took a steadying breath and went to the door. “I’d better get back to work.” “No.” He was at the door before she could turn the knob. He laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, I’ll grant you that. There are things I didn’t even know about myself until recently, but—“ She tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he only strengthened his grip on her. “Listen to me, Sara.” he said thickly, desperately. She stopped struggling. He stood stock still as his eyes moved over her face, and then the fight seemed to go out of him too. He cupped her cheek with his hand, and her lids closed briefly against the gentle caress of his thumb on her face. She wanted to lift a hand to his, to press his palm firmly against her skin, to hold on to his touch, but she didn’t. When she opened her eyes she saw a turbulence of emotions in his, and at that moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. She was torn between wanting him to, and running away before he did. But then he spoke, slowly, his voice low, soothing. “There are a lot of things I wish I’d said to you or shared with you and didn’t, and I regret that. I should have been a better friend to you. I ignored the way Catherine treated you at times when I should have intervened—“ He paused when Sara slipped her hand over his and removed it from her cheek. His other hand dropped away from her shoulder. “Grissom…” When she moved away from him this time, he didn’t try to stop her. “There’s no point rehashing all this.” “I think there is,” he said from behind her and she turned to face him. He was still standing by the door. “I know that I hurt you…out of pride and fear and…sheer stupidity, and I said things to you in anger I wish I could take back.” Grissom released a long breath, as though he were releasing something deep inside him. “I don’t blame you for being angry and wanting to leave, but I wish you’d reconsider.” He thought she was leaving because she was angry? Sara frowned. “I’m not angry, Grissom.” She was disappointed, hurt, furious with herself more often than not for putting herself through this, but she could never stay mad at him. Her lip curled up mockingly. “If being mad at you was reason enough to leave, I would have done it at least a hundred times by now.” His
lip twitched, but if he was amused by her comment, he otherwise hid it
well. He took a couple of
steps in her direction. “Then
why do you want to go back to “Because you’re not there,” she stated baldly and immediately regretted it when she saw the flash of pain cross his face. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right.” But it was the truth, only easier to say than, ‘because seeing you everyday knowing we’ll never be together is killing me’. “You’ve given up.” Sara wondered how long he expected her to wait while he worked through his issues about them. How long was she supposed to stick around and pretend that his hot one minute, cold the next and indifferent in between behavior didn’t hurt her? How long had he expected her to be blind to his feeble attempts to make her stay, within his reach, only to continue keeping her at arms’ length? Maybe this was enough for him, but it wasn’t for her. “Yes, I’ve given up,” she finally said, closing her heart to the beginnings of the sorrowful realization that dawned on his face. He let out a long, harsh breath and ran his fingers through his curls, grimacing as if the stroke hurt his scalp. “Well, no one can accuse you of making idle promises. You did warn me that it would be too late by the time I figured this out.” Oh, how hope springs eternal. A tiny ray of hope lit her heart as his words began to sink in. Had he figured it out? She searched his eyes for some kind of confirmation, and almost took a step back when she saw the fury in them. “Grissom…” she started tentatively, but he was no longer listening. He bolted for the door and yanked it open, only to stop abruptly when he came face to face with Blake. “Glad to find you both here,” Blake said with a quick glance in her direction. “Our search paid off.” Sara approached the two men. “You found Amy’s T-shirts?” “Sure did. They were in a gym bag stashed at the back of his locker in the basement of his apartment building.” She shook her head and gave Grissom a smile of satisfaction. “Looks like Foster’s more brawn than brains after all. I’ll get the paperwork done, inform the DA.” Grissom nodded absently. “Already done,” Blake said. “I called him on my way over here. I just dropped off the shirts. You might want to take a look at them, but there’s no doubt they’re Amy’s. Her name’s stitched on the front.” He looked at Grissom who’d remained silent throughout the exchange, and turned a quizzical glance at Sara. “I take it you cleared some time off with your boss. I also called the airline. The only flight I could get leaves at ten this morning. We don’t have much time.” She stared at Blake, sure that he could see the murderous look in her eyes. In her peripheral vision, she saw Grissom’s head jerk in her direction. She could have killed Blake, especially when it became apparent he’d done this on purpose. His lip curled up in amusement. “Better get to that paperwork, Princess. I’ll call you later.” With a quick nod at Grissom, and a wink at her, he left. Sara was glued to the spot. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Grissom. “You’re going with him?” She finally dragged her gaze to him and flinched. The anger she’d detected in his eyes a few minutes ago paled in comparison to the look he directed at her now. Deathly cold, accusing, shocked and burning with such hatred it made her heart ache. “It’s not what—“ “What I think?” he broke in, his voice low and menacing. “What do I think, Sara? You really had me convinced, but Catherine was right after all. You lied about your involvement with Hank, why wouldn’t you lie about Garrison?” Something snapped inside of her at the mention of Catherine. Oh, that woman had done a job on both of them, hadn’t she? “There you go again,” she spat out, suddenly furious, “always thinking the worst of me.” While your little Catherine can do no wrong, she thought, but didn’t say. She raised her hands in defeat and retreated further into his office. After a beat, she turned and faced him. “Why are you reacting like this? I already told you—“ “Why am I reacting like this?” He straightened and glared at her. “How is a man supposed to react when he finds out the woman he—“ He stopped himself from whatever he was going to say, closed his eyes and took a calming breath. When he opened them again, the pain she saw there knocked the air from her lungs. But the next minute, his voice dripped with sarcasm. “Excuse me if I don’t know the proper etiquette for this situation, but I’ve never had my heart ripped to shreds before, so you’ll just have to be patient while I learn how to deal.” Astonished by what he’d just said—more like admitted—her mouth dropped open, but he was out the door before she could respond.
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