Disclaimer: Pfffft. Don't own 'em.

Rating: T

Spoilers: If it has aired, it's fair game.

Summary: Sara gets a little too involved in a case. GSR

A/N: This is Part I of II.

He Ain't Heavy

Part I

They sat together, huddled in his office, well into the start of the dayshift. The lab was bustling around them, almost all of the day and swing employees working on the disappearance of the mayor's daughter. She had failed to come home the night before from a friend's party and they city was up in arms trying to find her. Though Catherine had recommended Gil lend a hand in helping find the girl for political reasons, the entomologist knew his particular expertise would only come in handy if she turned up dead, covered in maggots. Every angle was already being worked by his colleagues, and there were other cases, equally important, that he had to attend to. With Sara.

She had approached him with her case midway through shift. It seemed open and shut at first glance. A women was found raped and beaten to death in the stairwell of the Bellagio. Surveillance showed a tall, thin man with flaming red hair enter the stairway and then leave almost a half hour later, at their Jane Doe's time of death. The surveillance photo of the man was immediately distributed to the media and shown on the news. A desk clerk at the MGM Grand called the tip line only an hour after the picture first aired and informed authorities that the suspect was a guest in one of the suites, a Mr. Giovanni Barzini. Sara had rushed to the MGM to question Barzini and when he opened the door to his suite, she was met with the face of the man on the tape. He was cordial enough until she showed him the picture from the surveillance camera at the Bellagio. He claimed innocence of course, but they had enough to take him down to the station.

Grissom sat back in his desk chair and sighed. "I feel like I've been staring at the same page for hours."

"Let's talk ourselves through this again. Maybe we missed something."

"Sara, his DNA matched the semen found in our vic. We've got tape of him going in and out of the crime scene," Grissom continued, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.

"But his prints weren't found anywhere at the scene or on the doors we know he touched," she argued.

"He wore gloves," Grissom surmised. "Sara, DNA doesn't lie. And this guy doesn't have an alibi." He looked at Barzini's statement made to the police after he was taken into custody. "He says he had taken some migraine medication and went to bed early. Nice fairy tale."

"I counted his pills. It was a new prescription and two pills were missing."

"He probably took them earlier, or tried to cover his tracks by flushing them," Grissom guessed. "We have video of him entering the MGM."

"But no video of him leaving the Bellagio," Sara pointed out. "He's clever enough to escape the cameras at one hotel but not the other? How do you explain that?"

"I can't, but the DNA places him at the scene. He denied ever having sex with the victim prior to that. Semen doesn't magically fly to crime scenes to implicate innocent people."

She rolled her eyes at this. "We're missing something." She refocused on Barzini's mug shot. "How could he be there, but not be there?"

"There aren't two of him," Grissom sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Why are you so sure he didn't do this?"

Sara pressed her lips together and stared at his diplomas on the wall. She had always prided herself on her rational mind, and any rational person could see that Giovanni Barzini was guilty. All the evidence pointed to him. But as she looked into Barzini's eyes, she didn't feel his guilt. Jane Doe had been brutally raped and murdered. When faced with such a violent killer, one usually feels something emanating from their soul, be it smug satisfaction or a sense of achievement or a dissatisfaction at finally being caught. Sara had seen it in her mother's eyes when she finally let go of the knife, letting it drop onto the white bedspread. It was the high of a killer. Laura Sidle had it. Giovanni Barzini...didn't.

But that wasn't something Sara could explain to Grissom. He'd think she was as crazy as her mother. No, Sara had to use logic to prove herself correct.

A quick knock on the door was followed by a very tired looking Mia. "The DNA from your case..."

"Matches our suspect," Grissom interrupted. "We know."

"It also matches two cases from 2004," Mia said, handing Sara a file. "One in Burbank and another in Dayton. Your suspect is a business man, right?"

"Uh...yeah," Sara said, staring at the pictures from previous cases. The crime scenes were staged the same way, same M.O.

"Well, has he made any trips to Burbank and Dayton?" Mia inquired.

Grissom raised his eyebrows and picked up his phone. "Let's find out."

Mia left them alone as Grissom called Brass to get an idea of Barzini's 2004 business itinerary. He made some non-committal noises as he listened to the detective on the other line, leaving Sara to wonder if the information he was receiving would exonerate or further incriminate Barzini.

Grissom hung up the phone and Sara held her breath. "The timeline fits," he told her. "He was in Burbank in March '04 when Camilla James was murdered at a Hilton. And he was in Dayton last July when Darcy Thompson was killed outside of a Holiday Inn. He's guilty, Sara."

"What about the prints?" she asked pragmatically.

"We'll check, Sara, but even if his prints don't show, this is more evidence than we need to convict."

She sat back in her chair, defeated. Usually when cases came together like this, she felt a mixture of excitement and relief. But as she stared up at the ceiling, Sara felt nothing but a sense of uneasiness. Something wasn't right. "Barzini, Barzni," she whispered under her breath. Her gut was telling her he was innocent.

"Too bad for him he doesn't have any mob ties to get him out of this," Grissom said, tossing the case file on his desk where it landed in front of Sara, Giovanni Barzini's mug shot staring at her.

"Excuse me?" Sara asked, sitting up in her chair.

"You know, Barzini...The Godfather...Emilio Barzini is a character in the movie," Grissom explained. "You have seen The Godfather, haven't you?"

Sara didn't answer. She picked up the case file and studied the photo. The red hair framed a bony but handsome face. The piercing blue eyes were shades lighter than Grissom's and the skin was milky pale, the kind that probably burned if he stayed more than five minutes in the sun without SPF 45.

"He's not Italian."

"And you know this because..."

She handed him the picture. "Look at him. Does he look like his ancestors came from anywhere near the Mediterranean? He's pale as an ass."

"Well, his name is plenty ethnic, Sara. And maybe his mother was Irish or something," Grissom said, trying to justify the red hair. "It doesn't matter. His ethnicity has nothing to do with his guilt."

Sara pulled out the report she had on Giovanni Barzini. "Father: Carmine Angelo Barzini. Mother: Giovanna Margherita Barzini. Don't you get it? He was adopted!"

Grissom stared at her, vaguely concerned. "Sara, that doesn't mean anything. His DNA was at all three crime scenes."

Sara would have nothing of it. "You said there aren't two of him," she said quickly. "Maybe there are."

She quickly got to work and called Barzini's parents who were all too willing to give whatever information they could to protect their precious only child. They had flown to Vegas the moment they found out their son was in trouble, along with Barzini's wife and two young children. Sara met with them at the police station and escorted them into a small office so they could talk privately. Mrs. Barzini blew her nose and Mr. Barzini looked rather grim.

"Was Giovanni...adopted?"

Mrs. Barzini sobbed and Mr. Barzini nodded his head. "But he's our baby," Giovanna said, her accent heavy. "We wanted them both but she wanted to keep one..."

Sara nodded her head numbly. She felt...justified. She wasn't crazy. Her gut was right. "He's got a twin," she remarked, more of a statement than a question.

"The woman...she kept him. Gio's brother. She could not afford them both," Carmine explained.

"Do you know her name? Where is he now?" Sara asked, her questions coming rapidly.

Giovanna sobbed as she gave Sara the name of her son's birth mother. "Memory like elephant," Carmine said quietly, kissing his wife on the cheek.

They found him within the city limits ten hours later. Virgil Montgomery had his brother's face, but when Sara sat down across from him at the interrogation table, she felt the presence of a killer. After presenting Montgomery with a list of the evidence they had against him, Sara expected some form of denial to pour from his lips. Most criminals spun stories even when it was hopeless. But Virgil Montgomery wasn't one for fables.

"He had my life."

"Excuse me?" Sara asked, bewildered.

"That could've been me with the fancy car and the fancy wife. Healthy kids," Virgil spat out, his Southern accent thick as molasses. "A 50/50 shot I'd've been living the high life. But no, my mom had to keep me."

"So…you followed your biological brother around the country and killed women in the places he was staying hoping he would be blamed for your crimes?"

Virgil shrugged. "Yeah. So what? And I was hoping the bastard would get caught, too. I was damn near close if you hadn't stuck your pretty little nose in it." Though his public defender had tried numerous times to keep his client under control, Virgil was having none of it. "I watch TV; I know how it is. Where do I sign my statement?"

Brass took over from there and Sara left the room, tired but relieved. She found Grissom waiting for her, his lips pursed in thought.

"Sara Sidle, you hear hoof beats and think zebras. I'm sure Giovanni Barzini thanks you."

She laughed at that as they walked out of the police station. "My kindergarten teach told me that once."

"You were solving murders when you were five?" Grissom asked coyly as they got to their SUV's, parked side by side.

Sara shook her head. "During story time…"

"Story time?"

"Yes, story time," she said, smirking as she leaned back against her car. "We all would get in a circle and she would read us something or other. One day, she read us 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf.'"

"Ah yes," Grissom sighed. "The young shepherd who falsely convinces the townspeople he's being attacked by wolves and it, shall we say, comes back to bite him in the ass in the end."

"I don't think Mrs. Palmer phrased it that way," Sara laughed. "But basically, yeah. The one time he's actually getting attacked by wolves, no one believes him."

"And where do the zebras come in?"

"After the story I raised my hand and asked Mrs. Palmer why someone didn't stay with him the first time he cried wolf."

Grissom raised his eyebrows. "And why would someone stay with him? He lied."

"Well, why would he cry wolf in the first place?" Sara asked. "He was lonely."

Grissom considered this and Sara continued. "Everyone assumes that the shepherd is a jerk. But he just wants company." She watched him digest what she said and grow uncomfortable. "I…guess I'll go now. Goodbye, Grissom."

"Goodbye," he said, his voice gravelly. "And good job, Sara."

She gave him a sad, small smile and got in her SUV. It seemed as if she had been on the case forever. The sky was beginning to grow dark and Sara hadn't seen the inside of her apartment in more than twenty-four hours. When she got home, a shower was first on her list. The grime of the day was cleaned off under the hot spray. Sara thought back to the case and why it was so important to her. Her gut had told her it was special. Something about Giovanni Barzini's eyes pleaded with her to save him. It had been a long while since Sara had felt someone truly depend on her. As the years went by, instead of feeling more secure in her job, Sara felt like she was on increasingly shaky territory. This case grounded her. She needed something to ground her and this was it. One brother was a cold-blooded killer and the other a blameless man.

There was no murder gene.

Sara stepped out of the shower. A loud knock had her throwing on her robe and rushing to her from door. She felt her face flush as she remembered her last conversation with Grissom. He had looked as if he had something to say on the tip of his tongue and she wondered if he had come to her to say it.

But the bright red hair in the fisheye dashed Sara's hopes. She pulled the neckline of her robe tighter and opened the door.

"Mr. Barzini…" she smiled, slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, I'm sorry for disturbing you," he said, stepping inside. "I just had to thank you, Miss Sidle."

"Well, you're, uh…welcome."

He shook his head. "I was sitting in jail only hours ago in a jumpsuit as orange as my hair," he chuckled, "and now I'm free. Because of you. You looked deeper."

Sara raised her brows. "Uh…all in a day's work."

"I knew you would…when I saw you," he said. "I knew you would figure it out."

"Thanks." Sara pulled the neckline tighter.

"I knew you'd save me the moment I saw you," he sighed. "You worked so hard and then I was free. Just the way it should be."

"Okay."

"Just the way I planned."

"You planned?"

"Do you know what I didn't plan, Miss Sidle?"

Sara backed up, shaking her head. "No."

"I didn't plan on you being so beautiful. So irresistible," Barzini sighed. "This was all supposed to end. The cops barely missed me with the Duluth one. It was supposed to end in Vegas. I'd quench my thirst once more and he'd take the rap."

"He? Your brother? Why would he…"

"Brotherly love," Barzini told her before breaking out into laughter. "No. His kid is sick. Leukemia. I paid for her treatment."

"So he'd take the fall?"

Barzini nodded.

"You'd do that to your own brother?" Sara asked, appalled.

"Hey, he didn't have to grow up knowing he was the one she gave up," Barzini said, all at once getting angry.

"But your parents love you."

"And I love them. But I wasn't good enough for that bitch of a biological mother."

"That doesn't make any sense," Sara said, trying to calm him. "You two are identical."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Barzini told her. "That bitch is dead. I killed her years ago. And she's not the reason I'm here right now. You are, Miss Sidle."

Her gun was in her bedroom. She could make a mad dash for it, but Barzini looked fast. He was thin and wiry and could probably overpower her without much of a problem.

"Me?"

He nodded. "I was going to give it all up…until I saw you. But now…now I need one more taste."

TBC…