Sara Sidle popped her gum loudly as she began to print the interior of the 97 Cavalier Warrick Brown had brought in from the homicide they had been working. The car, as well as the 29 year old woman stuffed in the trunk, had been found dumped in the middle of the desert. It had been there about 3 days.

"Just don't open the trunk in here," Warrick warned.

"How bad?," Sara questioned, not sure she really needed to ask.

"Doc is calling this case 'shake n bake'," Warrick grinned, then walked out oif the garage to join Robbins in the morgue.

Sara sighed. She didn't have to open the trunk. She could smell it in the car.

"Sara?," Grissom's voice made her jump and almost hit her head. "Careful. Don't hurt yourself."

"Gris what do you need?," she asked as politely as her bitterness toward him would allow. She turned around to face him.

"Find anything?," he asked.

"Not a damn thing," she said, avoiding his gaze. "Its like someone kept it in a garage wrapped in plastic."

Just as the words came out of her mouth something caught her eye. A single strand of blonde hair was caught in the headrest. She shone her flashlight on it and reached out the car door to open her field kit. She retrieved her tweezers.

"What did you find?," Grissom questioned, watching her careful movements.

"Our vic is a brunette, right?," she was telling him rather than asking, but he nodded anyway. "Then we may have our suspect."

----

Greg Sanders peered through the comparison microscope at the two separate carpet samples from the case Catherine Willows and Nick Stokes were on. Catherine stood not far away, watching him closely.

"Its definately a match," Greg sighed. "Which tells you nothing but your vic was murdered in their own house. I would have made that deduction after seeing the large pool of blood in the living room, but...."

"Greg," she cut him off. "It tells me alot. You'll learn that soon."

She smiled at him and patted his back. Then she walked out of the lab.

----

Nick carefully shone his flashlight all around the perimeter of the living room. He couldn't believe Catherine had left him there alone. The now drying blood on the floor wasn't easy to avoid, especially with the power out in the house.

The uniforms had left which meant Nick was alone, but an odd feeling told him he wasn't. He carefully stepped past the blood and made his way to the dining room door. It was an awefully large house for a single man.

Suddenly a hand rested on Nick's shoulder. He fumbled with his gun, unable to unholster it. He wheeled around and came face to face with Catherine.

"Jumpy?," she teased, walking past him into the dining room.

"I thought you were back at the lab."

"Greg said the carpet is a match."

"And the blood?"

"He'll beep me."

"But the rugs a match?"

"I said that Nicky."

"So he was killed here. Why aren't there marks from him being drug out of here?"

"Not his blood?"

"Maybe its the suspect's."

Catherine shrugged. Nick looked down at the blood. He glanced over at Catherine who appeared to be lost in thought.

"What?," he questioned, and she glanced over at him. She responded in a hushed tone, keeping eye contact with him.

"We're not alone."