OAKWOOD CLOSE

~ Chapter 1 ~

Stepping out into the cool night air, Sara Sidle tipped her head back, closed her eyes and took a long refreshing breath. After spending the better part of two hours sweltering inside the tiny bloodstained apartment, the fresh, gardenia-scented atmosphere she now found herself in was heaven. She sucked it in, savouring the clean, sweet smells of spring that were infinitely preferable to the stale, metallic tang that she'd just left behind.

She rolled her shoulders trying to relax the tight muscles of her neck and upper back and wondered, not for the first time, if she should take a little of that accrued leave she had stockpiled. Apart from the occasional short road trip she'd managed to get with her mother and the even rarer 'girl's weekend' away, which never seemed to turn out well, she hadn't taken any real vacation time since the last time she'd flown out to Paris to join-

"You okay?"

Sara started at the sudden, unexpected question but recovered instantly and, opening her eyes, smiled warmly at the younger man who now stood by her side.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She shifted slightly, the paper evidence bags, still clasped tightly in her hand, rustling against the fabric of her slacks. "I'm just enjoying the fresh air."

"It was a bit…" Placing his kit down with a thud, Greg Sanders fought for the correct word, "ripe in there, wasn't it." He leant forward, resting both arms on the wrought-iron railing that surrounded the apartment block's second floor. "Not really surprising considering he waited so long to call it in."

"I imagine he was in shock." Sara shrugged. "By the look on his face when they led him out of here, he still couldn't believe that he'd actually killed her."

"Yeah well, there's not many people that walk away from a half dozen hammer blows to the head." Greg sighed. "Not that I've seen anyway." He stared down at the car lot below them; a couple of hours ago it had been full with police cars, both uniformed and unmarked, the coroner's van and their own SUV jostling with both the complex's residents and their vehicles for space but now the area was all but empty, just their Lab vehicle and a single patrol car remained amongst the miscellaneous sedans and trucks. "You know, this is the third domestic violence murder I've been to this month; it must be something in the air."

"Well," Adjusting the hold she had on her own kit, Sara turned to face him. "the economy's in the toilet, people are finding it harder and harder to get by and when times get tough, tempers get short – sign of the times, I guess."

"Perhaps." Greg conceded, a frown darkening his usually relaxed and open face. "But I'll never understand how you can love someone enough to make a life with them," he shook his head, clearly bewildered "make a home and family with them and then find yourself staving in their skull one day or stabbing them to death with the same damned carving knife the two of you got as a wedding present."

"It can be a fine line between love and hate." Sara pointed out then, with a gentle smile, she attempted to lighten her colleague's mood. "And it keeps us in a job, remember."

"Yeah, I guess it does." Allowing himself a small chuckle, Greg bent and retrieved his kit. "You were married, you ever feel the need to kill Gri-" He froze instantly as he remembered exactly who it was that he was speaking to and the family history that she'd struggled to deal with. "Oh geez, Sara, I didn't mean that; I forgot all about your mom and - "

"It's okay, really; I learnt a while ago that there's no point in trying to hide from what happened with my parents." With an easy grin and a shrug, Sara sought to put him at ease. "It's part of who I am; it's part of what I am." She cocked her head back towards the apartment door. "That's not to say that I'm comfortable with scenes like this, that's never going to happen, but they don't affect me nearly as much as they used to and, to answer your question, no, I never felt the need to kill Grissom."

"Distance probably helped with that, huh?" Pleased and relieved that his question hadn't actually been the tactless disaster that he'd feared, Greg smiled. "Makes it kind of hard to harbour murderous thoughts about your spouse when they're living on the other side of the world."

"You're wrong about that, actually." With a wistful sigh, Sara turned towards the nearby stairwell. "If I learned anything at all from that experience it's that distance harms a marriage, Greg, it definitely doesn't help it."

Making their way down to the parking lot, they nodded towards the remaining patrol car as they walked around to the rear of the SUV.

"How about I shout you a coffee on the way back to the lab?" Swinging the tailgate wide, Greg watched as Sara placed the evidence bags and her kit neatly inside before hefting his own in beside it. "Russell's been crowing about a new twenty-four hour diner he discovered off Paradise and I've been meaning to see if it's as good as he claims."

"The benefits of having a boss who's even more coffee obsessed than you are, huh?" Sara smiled. "Yeah, why not." Rounding the side of the vehicle, she'd just pulled the passenger door open when her phone rang and she glanced across the two front seats as she pulled it from her pocket. "Unless D.B. has other plans for us, of course." Stabbing her finger at the keypad, she raised the cell to her ear.

"Sidle." She listened for a moment, her brow furrowing briefly. "Yes, yes I am."

Watching from the other side of the large vehicle, Greg's concern grew as he watched her turn pale and he quickly rounded the car to fall in at her side.

"Okay, yes." Sara's voice quivered slightly and she nodded vaguely as she spoke. "Yes, I'll be there as soon as possible."

Lowering the handset, she stared absently into the darkness of the parking lot.

"Sara?" Reaching out, Greg placed a hand gently on her arm. "What is it? What's happened?

"Oh god, Greg… " She snapped back instantly her free hand coming up to wipe anxiously across her mouth. "There's been an accident; I have to get to Desert Palm."


"I called the Lab and let them know what's going on." Handing the small polystyrene cup out towards her, Greg waited for Sara to take it before slipping into the empty seat beside her. "Russell said to give him a call if you needed anything."

"Thanks." She sipped at the cup and grimaced at the bitter taste of the vending machine coffee. "The nurse I spoke to said they'd be ready for me shortly."

"Did she tell you anything about…" He chose not to finish the sentence, nodding his head towards the closed door opposite instead.

"No." Sara shook her head. "All I know is what I was told on the phone." She shrugged. "That there was a car accident of some kind, two dead and one critical. She didn't seem to know any other details."

Sara fell silent, coffee cup held, forgotten in her hand, as she stared at the door ahead.

Realising she was in shock, Greg reached across and took the cup from her before slipping his hand around hers. "When did you last talk to him?"

"I'm not sure," Sara shook her head as if trying to clear it as she struggled to think "A year and a half?" She frowned, "No, it'd be a little longer than that I guess; I had some paperwork that needed his signature so I gave him a call to get a mailing address to send it to." She laughed slightly, an edge of bitterness lacing the sound. "He told me to give whatever I had to his mother; that she'd send it on for me." She sighed at the memory. "It arrived back two weeks later with no return address but a Florida postmark and a scribbled note telling me it would probably be best if I didn't try to contact him again." She chuckled but there was absolutely no humour in it "That pissed me off so much that I thought I'd call and tell him exactly what I thought of him at that moment but it turned out he'd changed his cell phone number and, then I discovered he'd changed his email address too."

"Miss Sidle?"

Both she and Greg quickly pushed to their feet at the sudden opening of the door.

"I'm Doctor Tucker; I'm one of the ER residents here." After a nod in Greg's direction, the doctor shifted his full attention to Sara. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. I... " Sara ran her tongue over suddenly bone-dry lips. "I'm still not quite sure what happened; all the police officer that contacted me said was that there was an accident out on I-15."

"Yeah, apparently, they're still trying to work out exactly what happened." The doctor shrugged, helplessly. "All I can tell you is that there were two vehicles involved; a contractor's van, I believe it was, and a cab in which both the driver and passenger were killed." He shifted, clearly uncomfortable with his next task. "And, I'm sorry but, as you were listed as next-of-kin, we need you make an official identification for us."

"You want me to come with you, Sara?"

She'd completely forgotten Greg was there. Even though her fingers were still gripping tightly to his, she'd been focussed so intently on what the doctor was saying – and picturing in her mind exactly what was about to happen - that his presence had simply ceased to register.

"No, Greg; thank you but I'd rather do it alone." She squeezed his hand once before slipping free of his hold and nodding at the waiting physician. "Okay Doctor, I can do that."

Preceding him through the door and into the room she'd been dreading, Sara took a long, slow breath as she came to a halt beside the draped figure on the gurney. She stared, eyes locked firmly on it as the doctor rounded the other side, his hand reaching out to take hold of the top edge of the sheet.

"Ready?"

Unable to speak, Sara nodded and braced herself as the drape was pulled back and the person beneath revealed.

"Yes." Closing her eyes tightly, she fought back tears as she nodded once again. "Yes, that's her; that's Betty Grissom."