Unfortunately, Sara's case had just turned serial. The third thirty-something brunette had been found dead, throat slashed and heart removed, in the middle of Freedom Park. The details of the murder easily linked it to the previous nights' murders – the victims had also been found in parks bearing the same wounds, clad in jogging attire and sneakers. Unfortunately, the evidence found at each scene was minimal – some white fibers, a few hairs, and a footprint – and they had absolutely no leads from them.
When Sara and Greg arrived at the scene a chilling feeling of déjà vu swept over them. "This guy's apparently got a thing for thirty-something brunettes who enjoy an evening run in the park," Greg noted, receiving a "Duh" look from Sara. She sat her kit down near the body and bent her knees to examine it. Greg stood dutifully by her side, ready for action, her personal lap dog.
"Amanda Sims," Brass's dry voice spoke. He was approaching behind her, a look of I-have-to-do-this-shit-again on his face. "Some guy stole her heart too. Maybe you should be looking for an ex-boyfriend."
"Thanks Brass, I'll keep that in mind," Sara said, smiling as she looked up at him, now towering over her. He shrugged and trundled away to interview the man that had found her.
The fact that she hadn't caught this asshole yet plagued her. How many more innocent women were going to die because she couldn't catch him? She bit back her emotions the best she could and tried to concentrate on doing her job. "Greg, you take the surrounding area. I'll take the body." He nodded and moved away with his kit in tow. She opened her own kit, spreading it out over the grassy area and began collecting evidence – fibers and hairs which bared resemblance to those from the previous victims and another shoe print that did not match the one cast at the previous night's murder scene.
Despite the fact that she knew none of this evidence would come close to a suspect, she handled it with deliberate care making sure to bag and tag it correctly. At least she owed it to this woman to do her job right even if she knew it would yield no new information.
She was startled out of her work by the quiet coroner creeping up on her. "David! You scared me."
"Sorry," he replied sheepishly
"That's okay. What can you tell me?" He knelt down beside her, making gestures with a pointed, glove clad finger.
"It's the same situation Sara. Time of death is about five hours ago, so sometime in the evening. Cause of death is a deep slash on her throat, severing the artery. Otherwise, it doesn't appear as though she has suffered any other wounds. The heart was cut out post-mortem, like the others. Of course we'll know more back at the lab."
"Thanks David," she said, and he took that as his dismissal. Nodding, he stood awkwardly and shuffled away. Greg returned to her side about an hour later having recovered little. The park was a fairly heavy traffic area, so there was no guarantee that his evidence could be attached to the murder. However, they had to remain hopeful. Greg patted her shoulder and they left the scene quietly in her Tahoe.
"I don't understand it. Why cut out the heart?"
"Maybe," Greg spoke up, "It's those demon guys from that silent episode of Buffy." He was kidding but Sara certainly wasn't amused and she gave him a threatening look that told him so.
They were nestled in the break room going over their evidence again trying desperately to shed some new light on this case. "Okay," Sara said, "Let's go over what we have again. Greg?"
"Ooookay, let's see. All three victims died from a knife wound to the throat. Their hearts were removed post mortem. Otherwise, there are no bruises or other wounds on the bodies to speak of. They were all found in parks in more secluded areas, under trees and out of sight." He paused now, glancing at Sara for approval. She nodded and he continued. "All three had some odd fibers, probably a rag or towel of some kind, on their person as well as dark human hairs. Two of the three scenes had footprints though not the same shoe – one was definitely some type of boot and the other more like a sneaker. There's nothing about any of the victims themselves that could connect them. The victims were selected at random."
"And they were all jogging, all around the same age, all female, all brunette…" Sara trailed off. "So he targets a specific type of woman," Greg finished.
Just then, Sara's cell phone rang. It was Brass. She gave Greg the I-think-we've-got-another look and picked it up. "Sidle."
"Sara, Brass. I'm in Sunset Park. I think your triple just quadrupled."
The scene was a perfect snapshot of the previous – with one minor exception. The first three victims had no defensive wounds. This one did. It appeared as though the woman, Sharon Alms, had tried to defend herself with her water bottle. The bottle was promptly dusted, swabbed, and bagged by Sara. Because it had been located a distance from the body, there was a possibility the killer had thrown it and it was the best piece of evidence they had so far. She wished she had a big red rubber stamp to smack a huge RUSH on it, but alas, her kit was not equipped with such things.
Sara was giddy at the two full prints and the partial she had recovered from the bottle. There was a good chance that all of them belonged to the victim, but at least there was hope. Mia started immediately on the swab and Greg had taken the usual evidence – fibers and hairs – to compare them to those from the previous victims.
An hour later, Sara received a very worried call from Jacqui. "Sara, you need to come down here, now," the woman on the other end urged. "I don't like to think I'm going crazy, but God please tell me that I am." A worried expression crossed Sara's face. Did Jacqui have something?
Sara flew to the print lab, not knowing what to expect. She found a very frightened Jacqui staring at the computer screen, hands shaking at her sides.
"Sara, you won't believe this." Sara approached the screen and studied it. Upon it were the two fingerprints – her partial and its match, the match points blinking. According to the screen, it had pulled someone from the lab's database. Jacqui looked at Sara now, eyes wide, obviously frightened. Someone they worked with, someone in the lab that they saw everyday, was a murderer. Sara bravely reached forward and did what Jacqui obviously could not – tapped the enter key. Gil Grissom's face filled the computer screen and the details of his life were listed before their eyes.
Sara's hand clutched her stomach and for a few moments she felt nauseated, the image of her throwing up crossing her mind. She sat down hard in the chair behind her. Quiet filled the room for a few moments as Sara debated what to do. She wanted to see Grissom, badly, and ask him why.
"I'll…I'll go talk to him." However, she did not move from the chair, merely sat a little longer gathering her strength before rising and heading for his office.
Without knocking, Sara entered the tiny room and stood before him. She was so thrown that she had to blink several times before realizing he was holding a knife upright in his fist, twirling it so that the light glinted off its blade. "I knew you'd come," were his only words and his gaze never left the knife. Sara's eyes moved briefly from the knife to the shelves behind his desk. The jars of animal and bug specimens had been replaced with four red jars – the hearts of her victims.
The knife flashed and brought her gaze back to him. He was standing now, having moved from behind his desk to mere inches from her. She managed a small "Why?" but could do little else. Her body was helplessly frozen to the spot. It's Grissom. Somewhere in there, it's still Grissom. He wouldn't hurt me, would he?
"Oh Sara," he spoke softly, "You don't get it, do you?" A cold smile crossed his lips as he continued to twist the gleaming blade between his fingers.
"Grissom, I…" she began.
"They're all you!" he shouted menacingly. "All of them! I look at them and I see you. It's torture. I had to Sara; I had to kill them, to make it go away. And now I have to end it, end it with you." And suddenly his arm thrust forward. Sara felt the sharp blade as it slid into her body. Looking down, eyes growing hazy, she saw the knife in her chest, right through her heart. He backed away from her now, watching as the blood poured from her wound and her body's slow slump to the floor, that cold smile still curled over his lips.
Sara gasped and flew up into a sitting position, head spinning. Her body, her pajamas, the sheets, the pillow – all soaked in her cold sweat. She heaved, taking deep breaths, gasping for air. The image of his face, that cold smile, still hung before her eyes. A dream…a NIGHTMARE, she thought, as her hand moved instinctively for her heart, feeling for the knife she was sure had to be there.