Broken Doll

AN: I don't know Sophia's last name, can someone tell me?

Chapter One (part two) : Shift Change

Catherine Willows stood up and walked out of her office. This case was bothering her, a lot. She wanted it to go away.

They needed a break.

The problem with a case this big that lasted this long was the fact that you had other cases to contend with at the same time. Which is what Nick Stokes was doing.

She stuck her head in his tiny office, "Hey Nicky, how's it going?"

"Hey Cath, pretty good. Nothing to dramatic. Just a robbery and attempted car theft."

"Light shift, huh?"

"Yeah, thank God."

Catherine leaned against the door frame. "Any new developments on the Broken Doll case?"

Nick sighed. "No, this guy is damn good. He's left no fingerprints, no fibers, no nothing. And we don't know where the primary crime scenes are."

Catherine nodded glumly and leaned back. She jumped when a hand grazed the small of her back.

"Hey Rick," Nick said. "Anything?"

Warrick had spent the shift on the computer, looking for anything resembling the Broken Doll case.

"Yeah…"

Catherine spun to face him. "You have something!"

Nick stood up and checked his watch. "Well, shift is over, let's tell the Graves folks, and get the hell outta here."

Nick finished printing his last report and walked out of the office. Catherine looked at Warrick, a mix of fear and hope in her eyes.

"What do you have?" she whispered softly.

"Nothing good," he pulled out the documents he was holding, "Vegas is not the first time this guy has struck. There have been similar cases in Portland, Boston, DC, and Ft. Lauderdale."

Catherine slumped in defeat. "How many total?"

"Eighty-five."

Catherine turned her face away from him. He reached out with one arm and pulled her against him. She choked back a startled sob.

This case was really getting to her. Warrick kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"C'mon, beautiful. We need to pass the information."

Gil Grissom, Sara Sidle, Greg Sanders, and Nick were waiting in the debriefing room as Warrick and Catherine walked in.

"Rick says he has something," Nick muttered. All eyes turned to Warrick Brown.

"I spent my shift on the computer and the phone, talking to agents from around the USA. The Broken Doll Kidnapper isn't new. He has a total of…" Warrick drifted off and heaved a sigh, staring at the statistics on his paper.

"Tell them," Catherine whispered so softly they could barely hear her.

"A total of eighty-five victims. None of them have ever been found."

"Eighty-five?" Sara asked in surprise, "Where else has this guy worked?"

"Portland, Boston, DC, and Ft. Lauderdale," Catherine said.

"Lauderdale?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, happened nearly eight years ago. This guy goes in spurts."

"So, we have a national case on our hands," Grissom said.

"Yeah, we do."

No one spoke for a minute; they just stared at each other in a sad silence. If this man had been working for eight years and had never been caught, did they stand a chance?

They didn't have a choice. They had to win.

Warrick handed his findings over to Greg. "Good luck guys, call if anything comes up."

The Graveyard team nodded glumly. Nick, Warrick, and Catherine headed out. They walked slowly down the hallway and signed out at the front desk.

"See ya later, Cath, Rick," Nick waved as he got into his truck and drove off into the night. Warrick leaned against Catherine's car.

"Come to my place," Catherine whispered. She was shivering. Even though it was well into the seventies, she was cold; the cold that had nothing to do with the weather.

Warrick nodded and climbed into her car. She slumped into the driver's seat and started the car. She stared straight ahead, hardly seeing.

"Cath, you want me to drive?"

She jumped, almost as if she had forgotten that he was in the car.

"Sure, maybe that's a good idea." They traded seats. Warrick pulled the car onto the street, and drove for Catherine's house.

When they pulled into the driveway, the porch light was on, just as it always was. Warrick and Catherine climbed from the car and Catherine unlocked the door. They walked in.

"Lindsey, I'm home," Catherine called into the house. Lindsey usually waited up for her mother to get home.

Silence answered her. Catherine dropped her coat on the couch and walked towards Lindsey's room. She must be really tired if she had already fallen asleep.

Warrick stood silently in the living room, a little awkward, if truth be told. He wasn't entirely sure why she had asked him here, but he had hopes…the incident in the storm drain…

Catherine's frown deepened as she reached Lindsey's room. She slowly pushed to door open. The lights were off, but the room was silent.

"Don't tell me she snuck out again," Catherine hissed at herself.

Catherine hit the lights.

A feral shriek ripped from her throat.