A/N: Here's a new story with Sara and Grissom at its center. Enjoy!
Old Sins have Long Shadows
Chapter 1
At first glance, the broad expanse of open space appeared to be the left-over remnants of a rummage-sale, or at least a patched together flea market. Yet there was more order at second glance. Bright blue tarps lay at regularly spaced intervals, a few feet separating each one. On each blue square were stacks of paper, clothing, shoes, take-out food boxes, plastic bags and the assorted debris most often associated with trash; several suitcases, pieces of wood, coolers, and empty boxes were scattered around the floor. Camping gear and an assortment of odd tools added to the peculiar collection.
A white van, doors open, was parked in the middle of the massive floor—except for the tarps, everything on the floor had been removed from the van. Two people, dressed in blue jumpsuits, worked at two different places in the building; both women, wearing jackets and gloves, concentrated on their work. Another woman, older than the others, had paced the length of the building before she stopped beside the van.
Slowly, Sara Sidle leaned her backside against the front fender, sliding along until her back rested against the tire of the 2007 Ford van, removing a glove as her butt touched the floor. A long sigh escaped as her eyes moved from left to right taking in only half of what was spread along the floor.
A steaming cup held by familiar fingers appeared in front of her face.
"Thanks."
"D.B. said I should relieve you—send you home." Easily, Greg folded his legs to sit beside her. He said, "What else have you found?"
Sara took a swallow of hot tea before answering. "Have you seen Hodges?"
Greg nodded. "Everyone is talking about this one. D.B. heard from Texas; two—a couple from Austin—were found ten months ago and the one from Arizona. Counting the one found here, that leaves DNA for three."
"We've found receipts from as far away as Florida." Sara sighed. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this."
A rumble came from Greg's throat. "But you keep doing it," he murmured.
She pushed her elbow against his arm and grinned. "So do you."
"And now you're teaching the newbies," he said, a finger pointing toward the two young women.
Sara made a soft chuckle before saying, "Amazing how the years have flown, isn't it?"
"What was our first multiple? Do you remember?"
Placing her cup beside her foot, Sara ran fingers through her hair as she thought. "The Collins family—everyone dead but the two girls."
"Wow! That does go back a few years," Greg said with a soft laugh. "I was so new I don't think I got to touch anything."
"I got to hold the little girl's hand."
Soft quick chuckles came from the two friends; they sat in comfortable silence until interrupted by one of the young women calling Sara's name. Greg stood and extended his hand to Sara, pulling her to her feet.
"Your supervision is needed," Greg whispered. "Introduce me!"
Sara smiled. "Hannah, meet Greg—Greg, Hannah." Waving to the second young woman, she said, "Emily! Come over and meet Greg."
Hannah, the young woman who had called Sara's name, flashed a quick smile. Even with her auburn hair pulled back into a bun, with most of her body covered with a blue coverall several sizes too large, the girl's natural beauty was apparent.
Greg smiled and extended his hand. A pair of flashing green eyes sparkled as Hannah removed her glove and shook his hand.
"And this is Emily," Sara said.
Later, Sara would giggle and tease him without mercy but at the moment she managed to suppress a laugh as Emily walked up.
"Greg! I met you several years ago!" The dark haired woman grabbed his hand, and unexpectedly, pulled him closer—almost into a quick hug. "Stanford!" She pointed to herself and then to Greg. "You were a guest lecturer—Chem Club—three years ago!"
No words came from Greg's mouth, even though his lips moved for a few seconds. He had no memory of the girl sitting in a lecture room that held a hundred students, yet she was familiar in a way that made him feel an instant attraction. In a moment, as she talked and laughed, he understood—Emily was a young Sara Sidle. The girl's appearance—tall and slim, dark hair and eyes, using hands to emphasize her words—was so similar to Sara's that he felt an instant attraction. Even her manner of speech was familiar—a light up-lift of her voice at the end of her sentences.
They were talking about receipts; quickly, Greg joined in, asking several questions, requesting explanations. The group walked around tarps to several tables against a wall.
With a slight boast Emily said, "Sara's the best—she's the one who broke this open, you know!"
Sara laughed quietly, "Team effort, Emily."
Hannah joined, agreeing with Emily. "If Sara hadn't come up with removing all that stuff in layers—if she had not gathered the receipts—insisted that we go through the van—no one would have ever known about those other people!" She smiled broadly, saying, "And we would not be working a serial killer case!"
Greg listened as the younger women described their findings—he already knew most of it but enjoyed hearing their version of events.
Everyone knew about the case—it had been news for days. A female body, bound and gagged, had been found near a local campground; she was a missing college student from New Mexico. When deputies arrived, several people who had been in the campground for two weeks reported a lone man in an old white van. Suspicious acting, they reported, because he rejected any approaches from fellow campers.
Within hours, the van was located; the owner inside a casino on the outskirts of Vegas. In the pockets of his jacket were two credit cards belonging to the dead girl. Easy, open and shut case—until someone looked inside the van. That someone had been Sara Sidle and her supervisor gave his approval for the two young CSIs to assist her in clearing the van.
It had been Sara's suggestion to remove everything from the van in layers—everyone admitted they would have used a shovel—but she and the two young women crawled into the van on hands and knees and soon found, layer after layer, a cross-country journey. Among the detritus were two pairs of women's underwear, bits of tape and plastic, several credit cards that did not belong to the van's owner—the first DNA hit came from the underwear.
A Texas couple had been found near a campground along the Sabine River, missing for three weeks; they were bound, gagged, and wrapped in plastic. Her DNA was matched with that found in the van. For ten months, the case had been cold. Almost as quickly, another young woman from Arizona had been matched with DNA from a second pair of panties.
The unexpected findings and the attempt to identify at least three other with DNA kept the three women working with the contents of the van. The latest find was another campground receipt—not a real receipt but a place marker for a camp site—with a fifteen month old date stamp.
"Mississippi," Hannah said as she squinted at the faded slip of paper pulled from a ragged sleeping bag. "Where is Rocky Springs?"
As quickly as she had the words out of her mouth, Emily was tapping a keyboard with results in seconds. "Campground along the Natchez Trace—primitive, no electricity." She gave a cryptic laugh, saying, "It's a national park highway—or something like that." She hit the print key.
After another fifteen minutes, Greg managed to push Sara out the door. "Go home," he said, "You haven't slept more than four-five hours at a time all week!"
"Call me."
He assured her he would. "Nothing will happen unless you are here!" His finger crossed his chest. "These two can leave later—I'll lock up and whatever is here will be waiting for you—promise!"
A/N: This one will have two characters from the past returning-soon! And, of course, we appreciate your reviews and comments. Chapter 2 soon!