Chapter 3:
Grissom photographed the scene from every angle, the blood pool on the floor, the blood splatter on the walls, the blood impressions on the ceiling. Careful not to step in the any evidence, he examined the room inch by inch. There were beer bottles, opened and empty strewn about the room. One appeared discolored. He tested it for blood – positive for human blood. He bagged the stained bottle, marking the bag with identifying information. Somewhere in the back of the house a phone began ringing.
"Gil, wake-up," Sara picked up the phone and thanked the front desk for the call. Grissom groaned as he began to stir.
"What time is it?" he asked hoarsely, still not opening his eyes.
"Seven o'clock. I think I suggested we get to bed earlier last night…" Sara teased. Grissom smiled and turned to face her, half-opening his eyes.
"We did go to bed early…just not to sleep." With a bit more prodding Sara was able to convince Grissom to wake-up.
"I thought you wanted to show me your hometown?" Sara reminded, "We won't have time for much."
They showered and dressed, packed their belongings and checked out. They grabbed a quick breakfast at the hotel buffet, then loaded the car and headed north.
"I'd like to show you Venice Beach – I spent a lot of time there as a teenager, helping my Mom out at her Gallery. It's changed a lot since the 60's and 70's, but it still has that off-beat social dynamic…"
Sara smiled, "So you grew up around rebels?"
"Not exactly, there were a lot of artists and poets…. And tourists…"
Even on an early Sunday morning traffic was heavy. It was after nine o'clock when they found a place to park. They walked down the boardwalk, stopping occasionally to look in one of the beachfront stores. After about twenty minutes, they came to an Art Gallery.
"This is the Gallery that my Mom started back in the 50's…. She sold it when she retired and moved to Vegas." Grissom held the door for Sara and they went inside. The walls were covered with framed paintings, from classic landscapes and seascapes to impressionistic scenes and contemporary geometrics. The floor held racks of prints and posters. Grissom shared about many of the paintings, the artists, the settings and their histories. As they talked an elderly gentleman emerged from behind the cash register.
"Gilbert Grissom? Is that you? As I live and breathe, I never thought I'd see you back here…." Grissom looked up, recognizing the voice.
Smiling, Grissom held out his hand, "Uncle Carl? I didn't know you would be here."
"I like to help out around the Gallery on weekends. My son Paul bought the place a few years ago. He just couldn't stand to see it being run by strangers." They talked for a few moments about family and friends. Carl noticed Sara standing beside Grissom. 'Well, he always did attract the pretty ones,' he thought to himself, 'Even if he didn't know what to do about it…'
Carl smiled towards Sara, "And who might this beautiful young woman be?" Grissom blushed, realizing that once again his social skills had failed him.
"Uncle Carl, this is Sara Sidle my, um, a special friend of mine. Sara, this is Carl Jackson, one of my Mom's closest friends. After Dad died, he and his wife helped keep me out of trouble."
Carl laughed, "It wasn't too difficult, Gil, when you weren't reading, you were usually hiding in the back running some sort of experiment. Sara, did he tell you about the time he nearly blew this place up?"
Sara looked up at Grissom speculatively, "No, he hasn't shared that story yet, though I don't find it too hard to believe!" Sara smiled as Gil blushed again.
"I didn't blow anything up," Grissom denied, "I just miscalculated how much heat would be generated. I think the only damage was a charred workbench…" he finished softly.
Carl smiled, "Well, it sure scared your Mom, seeing all of that smoke billowing out of the backroom."
Grissom grinned, "I must admit, I'd never seen her sign that fast before! I was sure she'd ban me from the store…"
"Sara, I think I may have some photos in the back that might interest you. Gil can show you around the store while I find them."
Gil showed Sara some of his favorite artists. Their works showed a variety of natural settings from formal gardens to rustic wilderness. All of them beautifully rendered. Sara's puzzled expression caught Gil's eye.
"What? No close-ups of insects or cadavers?" she teased. Gil turned to her, drawing her into a hug.
"I like things other than bugs and bodies…" Gil said before kissing her, "Though yours I don't seem to get enough of…" he whispered.
Carl cleared his throat as he crossed the room, "None of that in here, Gilbert," he teased. "Remember we run a family establishment."
"Sorry, sir," Gil replied, letting go of Sara. Sara grinned at Grissom's boyish response to the older man's authority.
Carl smiled, "Sara, don't let him get away with any nonsense. His mother raised him to behave himself." Sara's grin widened into a smile.
"I'm afraid I may be corrupting him then…" she confessed, "But he doesn't seem to mind." Gil put his hands in his pockets and studied the floor, causing them to laugh. When he looked up, Sara saw light dance from his eyes, belying his failure to laugh with them. She took his hands and pulled him back into a hug.
"Gilbert Grissom, what am I going to do with you?" she asked, gazing into his eyes.
"Anything you like," Gil breathed as he kissed her.
Carl cleared his throat again, "Special friends, eh? In my generation we had another name for it."
"Sorry," Gil apologized, still holding Sara in his arms, swimming in her eyes.
"I found some photos of Gil as a boy, if anyone is interested," Carl offered.
Sara broke the spell and looked over at the photos being held out. "Oh! I'd love to see those!" Grissom sighed, realizing that he'd lost her to Carl.
Carl showed her a black and white photo of a toddler in short pants, his legs half buried as he played in sand. She studied the boy's face, the curly hair, the bright eyes, the crooked grin, and then looked up at Grissom.
"You've gotten bigger, but you haven't changed much have you?" Grissom returned her smile with a grin. She turned back to the photos – this time seeing a young boy standing on a chair looking through a microscope in a laboratory. There was a man with wavy dark hair standing behind the boy. He had his arm draped around the boy's shoulders, his eyes intent on the slide at the base of the microscope.
Sara sensed Grissom's body shift. Glancing over, she saw him rubbing his eyes as he stared at the picture.
"That's you and your father, isn't it?" Sara asked. Grissom nodded.
"About a year or so before he died."
The next photo, the first in color, was of a small group of teenagers sitting on blankets on the beach. There were three boys and four girls. Two of the girls were paired with two of the boys. The other two girls were sitting on either side of the third boy. One of the girls seemed more interested in Gil's curly dark hair and blue eyes than the camera.
"The couple on the far left is my son Paul and his first girlfriend," Carl explained, "They got married in college and have grown kids of their own now."
Sara commented to Carl, "Doesn't it seem a bit greedy for Gil to have two girls when the other boys only have one?" Carl laughed.
"Yes, but if you notice, while the other boys notice the attention, Gil's oblivious to it. He always was…until now, it seems. "
"I figured it out in college, if you'll recall," Gil defended himself, "And I wasn't oblivious in high school, I, um, just didn't know which one was more interesting that day."
"Oh, so you strung both of them along? I'll have to keep that in mind," Sara observed.
"That's not what I meant… I've never cheated on anyone, and I don't plan on starting now… I… I just wasn't as socially inept as everyone seemed to think."
Sara conceded, "No, those gorgeous blue eyes of yours have stolen many hearts I imagine."
The final photo showed Gil standing next to his mother in front of the Art Gallery. Sara recognized her from the photos she had seen at Grissom's house. He still looked like a young teenager, but he was wearing a UCLA shirt.
"I remember that day," Grissom shared, "I was helping Mom during the summer break. Paul came over to tell me about his plans for proposing… He started snapping photos of everyone so that he'd have reminders of his 'single days'."
"His proposal must have been accepted?" Sara asked.
Carl and Gil looked at each other and chuckled. Gil explained, "After all of that, he chickened out. It took him a year to finally have the courage to ask her!"
Carl finished, "But she did say yes – they celebrated their 20th anniversary last week."
Grissom checked his watch, it was after eleven. They would have to hurry to finish their trip at a reasonable hour.
"Uncle Carl, it's been great seeing you again, but we need to get back on the road," Grissom said.
"Where are you headed?" Carl asked.
Sara replied, "I…We need to be in San Francisco tonight."
"Are you still working in Las Vegas, Gil?"
"Yes, I'm the lead CSI of the night shift now…"
"Do you work there too, Sara?" Carl asked.
"No, I'm working for the San Francisco Crime Lab."
Carl glanced at the too of them, "Oh, I had assumed that you were dating – but you live in different towns…"
"I'll be teaching in San Francisco this summer," Gil commented, "And, we are dating, I think."
"You think? My boy, isn't that something you should know?"
"It's complicated."
"The looks you two keep giving each other don't seem complicated at all," Carl shook his head, "I guess you haven't changed as much as I thought. Well, it's been good seeing you Gil. Don't be a stranger this summer; San Francisco isn't that far away. And Sara, it's been a pleasure meeting you. Gilbert's a good man, but he will try your patience at times. I wish you both the best."
"It's been wonderful meeting you too, sir. Perhaps Gil and I can visit you again in a few weeks? I'd love to hear more of your stories."
They exchanged their goodbyes. Gil and Carl shook each other's hands. Sara gave Carl a hug and a smile.
They walked back to the car and headed north along the Pacific Coast Highway.
