A/N: A new chapter-thank you for all your comments!

Unsolved Mysteries

Chapter 2

Jim Brass pushed the porch swing with his foot, holding the sleeping Beth against his shoulder, as the chain creaked in a comforting rhythm. Not for the first time, he marveled at life and its changes. He lived a few blocks away in a building owned by Gil Grissom, again, thanks to the investing strategies of Betty Grissom.

The always-stylish, intelligent woman who could not hear a sound had a talent for collecting real estate and selecting stock which grew into quite a fortune. Even Grissom, who had neglected his mother's trust for years, had been stunned to learn of his mother's wealth. An apartment building, an art gallery, a very profitable stock portfolio, and this house—Brass chuckled at the richness of life.

The house was exceptional, warm, inviting, tasteful, and wonderfully furnished for a child; he knew Sara had been involved in renovating and decorating for six months before Beth was born. Patting the back of the young child, he was, again, amazed at the beauty of science.

Quietly, he laughed again as he shifted to a more comfortable position and thought for a minute about putting Beth to bed. But then he buried his nose in her dark curly hair and breathed deeply. For an instant, he was back in the past, slipping away from work to be with Ellie when she was a toddler. Smiling, he decided they could sit on the swing until she woke up.

**-An early morning fog had cleared quickly to present a perfect day; a cloudless sky, a cool breeze, a sparkling ocean, and wildlife providing entertainment for the three guests provided perfect conditions. Sea lions had been lounging on the beach, a dozen dolphins had surfed alongside the boat, and, as Gil Grissom turned the boat eastward, a large bird sailed high above, its white head flashing in the sun.

"Look up!" He called to his passengers.

The bird circled, high above the water, in search of prey; in a blink, the eagle dropped, talons extended, touched the water, barely causing a ripple, before lifting with a small silver fish.

"Did you see that?" Greg Sanders delightfully shouted his words skyward. "Can you believe we got to see that! This has been a perfect day!"

Laughing, Grissom shook his head; Greg's enthusiasm had not diminished all day.

Almost two decades had passed since the boy with the wild hair had shown up in the Vegas crime lab as one of three final applicants. Grissom remembered making the final decision that placed Greg on the grave shift—and, as Greg was fond of saying—the best decision ever made.

Now, Greg held the job Grissom had once had.

The lone woman on the boat, Catherine Willows, handed binoculars to Greg, saying, "Use these, Greg." Catherine's ownership of a Vegas casino had finally won her full attention; she'd been lab director for six months after Sara left before turning the lab over to Greg.

Grissom was pleased Catherine had agreed to this trip. When Greg and Nick had donned snorkels and masks and jumped into the ocean, Catherine had dangled her feet over the side of the boat as young sea lions swam in curlicues and figure eights around the two men in the water.

Nick Stokes made the trip from San Diego every month or so, sometimes on business but more often as a visitor in their home. He had always been a good friend to Sara and as time passed, he had become an enjoyable and steadfast friend to both.

They had lunched at the environmental institute with a couple of researchers who were excited to have an audience of three who had not heard about their work. Admiration and compliments were given for their former supervisor-turned-environmentalist until the blushing man protested their words.

Afterwards, they had returned to the boat and headed around the island. Greg had stood topside on the fly bridge and gazed at the water, suddenly turning, a loopy grin on his face, and yelled at Nick and Catherine.

They could not hear what he was saying—the wind and the throbbing of the diesel engine prevented hearing his words—but the excitement in his face and waving of his arms got them to the side of the boat in time to see blue-gray rockets launch into the air. Five or six dolphins broke the surface of the water and drew a perfect arc in the sparkling light before disappearing for a few minutes, returning to twist, jump, and flip in a play of synchronized swimming.

When the boat entered the marina, the three passengers seemed surprised at their arrival, lulled into a late afternoon trance brought on by a full day in the sun. After securing the boat, stowing equipment and gear, and helping his guests gather belongings, Grissom led the way along a sidewalk, returning home.

**-"There you are! You were so quiet I didn't realize you were back until I saw the lilacs." Sara Sidle Grissom stood at the open door, a broad smile across her face; her hands moved along her back in self-massaging motion.

Brass grinned. "We were quiet as mice—and eating cookies." He waved a hand toward the space on the swing. "Join us—I'll push." His foot held the swing still while she walked over. He said, "You needed rest—when they return they'll be hungry enough to eat chair legs."

Easing into the swing, she said, "It's all prepared—just out of the refrigerator and on the table."

"We could have eaten at a restaurant—less work on you."

Sara laughed, settling her hands across her belly. "We can talk better here. And we see each other so rarely, it'll be nice to have everyone here—even if someone goes to sleep on the sofa—we'll continue to talk." Taking a deep breath, she sighed, one hand moving across her shirt. She said, "I don't think I'll go another month, Jim."

"You're not…"

"No, no, I'm not," Sara said with a laugh. "I'm fine—just seem to be," she groaned as her hand rubbed her belly. "Exhausted—heavy. This guy's definitely bigger than Beth was."

This time Brass laughed. "She's a delicate looking little thing, isn't she?"

"Though she be but little, she is fierce—Shakespeare—according to her dad."

Another chuckle came from Brass as he gently pushed the swing again. "Is everything ready for this little guy? God in heaven—I never thought Gil Grissom would be a father, not once but twice! Got a name picked out?"

Leaning her head back, Sara smiled, saying, "Beth is named after her grandmothers. Did you know Gil is named after his grandfather? And he doesn't want a 'Junior'—so I think we've decided on Henry—my father—and Anthony using Gil's middle name and his father's name."

"Henry Anthony Grissom has a good sound to it," said Brass. "A nice ring to it—Beth and Henry—I like it."

The little girl on his shoulder stirred; her lips smacked as she sucked on her bottom lip for several seconds.

Sara said, "I'll get her bottle." Remaining on the swing, she added, "The books say it's time to give up her bottle—but I just can't do that right now—not with what's coming up."

"We'll get her bottle—you stay here." Brass said as he stood up, cradling the little girl against his shoulder as she began to stir awake. Kissing the top of her head, he said, "Beth loves her Unky Jim."

By the time he filled a bottle with milk, Sara was in the kitchen.

She said, "Got a phone call—they are coming into the marina."

Brass sat Beth on the counter top with her bottle of milk, saying, "I can get drinks ready and watch Beth—you get off your feet." He grinned, "I don't want baby Henry coming too soon."

Leaning against the counter, Sara kissed her daughter and got a milky lopsided grin, the bottle nipple held tight with Beth's teeth.

Sara said, "I think my feet have disappeared."

When Brass laughed, the little girl gave her mother a quizzical glance before dropping her brown eyes to the floor. Removing the bottle from her mouth and pointing to the floor, she said, "Your feet 'dere, Mama."

For a long moment, Sara and Brass stared at the child before Sara and Brass laughed. Sara said "Her first sentence, Jim! Her first sentence—and it's about my swollen feet!"

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