Title: Killing Time (Part 3)
Rating: T
Author: CSIGeekFan
Spoilers: Season 8

The day ended up longer than any had anticipated. The sun had started to go down, as Sara led the group of cadets back to the vans. No point in searching in the dark, especially when no one had flagged much in the last several hours. The next sunrise would start the collection of the flags and the analysis of the items on the ground they marked. The CSIs would have to differentiate between rock and bone.

Nick had been right in predicting more than two bodies were buried within the perimeter of the grid. In light of that, the crew had done something unprecedented. They'd expanded the grid out to cover a twenty four by twenty four foot area. Unfortunately, they still were not done. However, when Greg emerged with another hand, fcomplete with intact fingers, everyone had been forced to admit that the scene was getting grisly.

Nick and Greg, both looking the worse for wear, along with fGrissom had laid out a long table with various sizes of clear Plexiglas boxes on it. The smaller containers held the six skulls that had been pulled out of the ground. The longer, partitioned containers held long bones, such as femurs and tibias.

Pieces and parts of bodies had been carefully screened from the ground, resulting in small fragments such as teeth. Larger sections of human remains had been pulled out, as well. The pit had not only grown in width and height, but in depth as well. What had started off as sifting down only a foot or two had resulted in a five foot deep trench, with cadets caked in dirt and sweat, carefully wielding hand trowels or shovels.

Several hours earlier when a cadet had stammered, "I… I… I think I found… something," Grissom, Greg, Nick, and Sara had all made their way over to where the young man crouched, wide-eyed over two feet down in the excavation. Carefully gripping the brush and wiping away at the layers, just as Grissom had shown him, officer Mayhew had looked up and asked, "Is this a skull?"

The pit had been dug deeper after that, but in the last foot or so, nothing had been found, and at some point, enough had to be enough.

Sara heard Grissom, Greg, and Nick approach.

Silently, they all stared at the miniature Plexiglas coffins on the table, until Grissom threw out, "Theories, anyone?"

"Do you really think there's enough evidence to determine how or why these women were killed?" Greg asked, a challenging smirk gracing his face. Greg seemed to be on a roll, casually tossing Grissom's own words back at the supervisor.

When Grissom raised an eyebrow at him and unblinkingly stared at Greg, the young CSI ran his hand through his hair, whose spikes had long since fallen.

"Just kidding," he muttered under his breath, while Nick grinned broadly. Crossing his arms over his chest, Nick looked first at the bones collected, then glanced at the dig, and the several cadets still in the pit.

"First off, none of them were buried all that deep," Nick stated. "Second, considering they were all buried around the same area, but at different depths, I would say they were not buried together."

Sara cocked her head, deep in thought, while she visualized the layout of the cordoned-off dig area. "I'd say there's a good chance they were buried at different times," she said, more to herself than her companions.

Taking the few steps over to the dig, she crouched down and the images of each skull and bone placement formed in her mind. "None of the bodies were buried at the same depth, so Nick's right. This wasn't a mass burial. Add into that the fact that even those bodies buried fairly close together were buried at different depths, and I'd say we have someone who planted these vics in the ground over time."

Grissom took a swig from his water bottle, the fatigue of the preceding night and the heat of the day sinking into him. Letting out a long breath, he looked first at Sara, then at Nick. "Right now, what the two of you have come up with fits the evidence." He sipped on his water bottle again before recapping it. "Now we need to finish collection, and see what the coroner can give us."

Greg turned a full circle, watching the red hue of the dipping sun strike vividly against the orange flags scattered for hundreds of feet in every direction… all the way out to the scenic byway. Blowing out a breath, he asked, "So when's Doc Robbins coming back to collect all of this?"

Chuckling lightly, Sara remembered the last visit by the coroner. He'd been none too happy with Grissom on his third trip out into the desert. The first trip hadn't been too memorable. Robbins had made his way around the site, letting out a breath along with a sarcastic, "At least with remains this old you don't have to worry about the stench." Upon collecting the remains dug up so far, and remarking over the size of the grid pattern, he'd left for the morgue… only to be called back a couple of hours later.

It seemed each time they thought they'd found the last of it, something got unearthed. On the third trip, Robbins had bluntly said, "You can either let me do my job and find out something about our victims, or you can keep hauling my ass into the desert." He'd then stomped off in his awkward gait, muttering his way back to the coroner's van. They hadn't heard from him since.

"I think we'll wait until morning to give Al a call," Grissom stated, half grin - half grimace crossing his features. Watching the sun slowly disappear beyond the horizon, and noting the uniformed officers patrolling the roped-off perimeter of their search field, Grissom added, "We all need a set of fresh eyes." Glancing at Nick and Greg, he added, "Be here at dawn. We'll start collecting in daylight."

Without thinking, Sara reached into Grissom's front pocket, snagged the keys to the Denali and spun to head to their vehicle, just as the massive spot lights blared to life in the dim desert.

After rolling her eyes at Greg's, "Want my keys, Sara?", she purposely stepped on his foot with her steel-toed boot as she made her way to the SUV, with Grissom absently making mental notes, following in her wake.

By the time Sara and Grissom got home, neither bothered to do more than drop their coats on the couch and keys and wallets on the table. Sara hadn't even bothered to go back to PD, instead opting to give Brass a call and leave a message on his cell stating she'd be back out at the scene at around five the next morning.

At ten o'clock, they stood in the shower together, giving winks and lascivious looks at one another, and by ten fifteen, they were asleep… face down on top of the blankets.

X X X

In the end, Sara and the team of CSIs calculated six victims. Doc Robbins would be able to confirm or refute the assessment.

Sitting across from Grissom, Sara held the autographed 'Ownership of Trigger' certificate and waited as he finished scanning the report in front of him. Eventually, he said, "So, Al agrees that we have six bodies. He's managed to somewhat attach the skeletal remains into human form, and is currently working on facial reconstruction for those skulls that were semi-intact."

"That should be four of the six. Two of them were fairly well hammered," she stated, lost in thought, but alert enough to hear him say, "I may call in Teri Miller to handle the other two."

While her first reaction was mild annoyance at the possibility of having to tolerate Grissom's ex-girlfriend, it was immediately replaced with concurrence. Teri Miller was a brilliant anthropologist, and had done excellent work in the past on recreating facial structure of skeletal remains. Sara admired Teri's ability to put together an image, based on little or no information. While existing software could help in recreating a face, some things simply needed to be handled by someone with experience… an expert.

"When are you going to call?" she asked.

"I already did," he distractedly replied, placing photos of the skulls out in front of him on the steel desk. "She's in Seattle, giving a series of lectures at the University of Washington." Glancing up, he added, "She'll be here tomorrow."

X X X

While Grissom and his crew worked on identification and evidence analysis, Sara sat at her desk at LVPD, and completed her paperwork. When Detective Cavaliere wandered over to her desk and dropped into the chair next to it, she shifted her attention and dropped her pen.

She and the seasoned detective had always had a reasonably amicable relationship prior to her leaving CSI and going to work for PD. However, since her return to Las Vegas, she'd found the man to be relatively annoying. For some reason, he'd forgotten that she'd once been a CSI and had processed a great number of homicide cases in her time with the lab. While she may have appreciated his concern, it annoyed her to no end that he seemed to think of her as some rookie at handling homicides.

"What's up?" she asked, glancing over at the dark haired man sitting in her 'visitors' chair.

"I just thought I'd see if you needed any help on the case," he offered, a magnanimous smile crossing his face. "You know you can always come to me if you're having any difficulties."

Trying not to let the smarmy smile get to her, she kindly replied, "Thanks Cavaliere, but I think I've got it handled."

When the look on his face dimmed a bit, she wondered what the hell was running through his mind, and then it hit her. Of all the detectives in the department, she'd just been handed what looked to be a serial murder case – the type of case that could make or break a career. As the seasoned detective sauntered away, his gait a bit stiff, she contemplated her next move.

The fact was, Sara had always had ambitions. At one time, she'd wanted to move up the food chain of the LVPD Crime Lab, but she'd blown that by damn near losing her mind. As an LVPD detective in the homicide unit, she had an opportunity to make a few points with other detectives. However, she needed to consider her options. Of all the detectives, Cavaliere was the last on the list of potential 'seconds' on this case. After all, while their relationship may have always been amicable, he could still be an annoying ass.

Grabbing her file, Sara stood in the bullpen and looked around at the various detectives. They all worked in the same large room. No cubicle walls separated them, so everyone generally knew what was going on with everyone else. Walking around the maze of desks, she stepped into the hall, noting how quiet everything seemed – no crazed druggies sitting on the bench, lulling themselves by speaking quietly to the voices in their head, and no screaming prostitutes half falling out of their clothes were in sight.

Making her way across the hall into Jim Brass's office, Sara dropped the file on his desk and was about the retreat, when the man in question stepped in.

"Hey, Sara. I was about to go find you," Brass stated, opening a desk drawer and tossing a sheet of paper inside. "I want to get caught up on the case."

When he used a hand to gesture toward a chair, Sara sat facing him. Behind his desk, he picked up the folder and glanced through. "Didn't I tell you not to find any more bodies?" Brass asked, his face stern but his voice giving away the humor he found in the entire situation.

"Yeah, well. I didn't put 'em there," she replied, sitting back in her chair. With the door open, Sara could hear general noise coming from across the hall. When someone laughed loudly at a joke, Sara's mind turned toward her 'political' dilemma. She didn't hear Brass until he waved a hand in front of her face, and cautiously ask, "Hey, Sara. You okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied… an automatic response. Snapping herself back to the present, she cocked her head to the side and considered the man in front of her. He'd moved heaven and earth at a time when she'd needed him most. While he might be one to claim that he'd do that for anyone, she knew better. They'd always had more than just a professional relationship. On a deeper level, she'd always considered him a mentor of sorts. Even more, she considered him a good friend.

Cautiously choosing her words, she asked, "If you had a high profile case and were new on the job… would it be considered a bad move to ask another detective to assist?"

Standing, Brass made his way to the door and closed it before returning to his chair. Smiling, he leaned forward, propping himself on an elbow, and leaning his weight into a relaxed slump.

"Are you asking if it's a dangerous move for a new person to make? Asking for help, perhaps from a seasoned detective that could give the new detective a step up, politically?" he asked, and received a sharp nod. Contemplating what he knew of internal politics, he replied, "Actually, it's probably an incredibly smart move." Watching her eyes, he carefully gauged her reaction when he added, "I'm surprised some of the detectives haven't already offered." The sneer on her lips, along with the sharpening of her dark brown eyes gave him the answer he sought. Brass had an idea who was making Sara the offer.

Finally, he asked, "Who do you think the best person would be to assist?"

Sara had given a great deal of consideration to who she would want on the case with her, and also studied the 'Murder Board' to see who currently had the lightest case load. Only one person jumped out at her as someone she'd trust on this case. While their relationship may have been volatile at times, primarily due to mistrust, Sara knew this particular person would give everything to the case.

"Sofia," Sara replied. "If I had a choice, I'd choose fSofia Curtis."

X X X

By the time Sara had worked through the day processing paperwork and well into her regular shift, she was tired and glad no calls had come in that night. Making her way down the hall, she passed Sofia walking the other way - immersed in a file. The blonde hadn't even noticed her, until Sara spun around and laid a hand on Sofia's arm.

Smiling, she said, "Hey, Sara," in her lilting voice, and gave the brunette her attention. Glancing around and making sure no ears were pressed to the walls, Sara finally said, "You wanna get a beer with me?"

At Sofia's surprised look, Sara added in a hushed tone, "I'd like to talk to you about something."