DISCLAIMER: I do not own, nor will I ever own CSI
This is set in the future, still in New York, and it continues right from where the last chapter in the future ended. Hope you like it!
It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now.
Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now.
Greg didn't want to wait for the cops. Sara had to hold him back as he desperately tried to run to Grant's house and start searching for Catherine.
"Let me go Sara!" he yelled, trying to break free of her vice like grip on him.
His bloodcurdling screams were attracting several curious glances out windows, and Sara realised it was very late. Late even in Vegas, but very late in New York. Grant was probably alsleep. Not that he would be for long, with Greg screaming like he was. Sara wrestled him onto the ground and sat on top of him, pinning two of his arms above his head with one of hers. She put her other hand over his mouth. Greg wriggleg excessively underneath her for a minute or so, but then he finally gave up.
Greg lay down limply and started to cry.
"I just miss her so damn much Sara... I need to..."
"Wait for the cops Greg." she insisted.
"Sara..." he protested.
"If you go in there now, he might kill you. If he hears you out here now, he might kill you. He might kill Catherine. Do you want Grant to kill Catherine?"
"Who says he hasn't already?" Greg sobbed back. "I just need to know."
"And you will know, when the cops get here."
"Let me up now?"
"No."
"You're surprisingly strong."
"Since the miniature killer, I've been taking self defense lessons."
"Oh."
"NYPD will be here soon Greg. Just hold on a little longer."
"Sara Sidle?"
Sara jumped at the sound of a male voice. An officer was standing beside them, with several more behind him.
"Yes. I'm the one who called you. That house." she said pointing.
"Let me up now Sara." Greg begged.
"Alright, but be careful." she told him, moving off him.
"We both know I won't be."
Sara got up, then stretched out a hand to pull Greg up. He took it, pulling himself up so hard he almost knocked Sara down. Once they were both up, they started to walk towards the big house, behind the cops. Greg glanced down, and realised they were still holding hands from when she'd pulled him up. Gregt realised he was unwilling to let go.
"NYPD, open up." an officer yelled, banging on the door.
Grant appeared at the door a few minutes later, a red tartan dressing gown tied loosely around him.
"Officers." he said politely. "How may I help?"
Two of the cops pulled him out of the house, and pushed him up against the wall. The others ran into his house, some went upstairs, some went down. Greg followed them, pulling Sara in with him.
"All clear." an officer told him.
"All clear?" Greg asked, shocked. "Where's Catherine and Lindsey?"
"Not here." the cop replied.
"Are you going to let Grant back into the house?" Sara asked.
"No, we found small stashes of marijuana, so we're taking him in for posession. Sorry."
"Officers, we're crime scene investigators, is it okay if we take a quick look around here?" Sara asked him, pulling her ID out of her wallet.
"Alright then, but make it quick." he told her.
"Thank you." she called back as he left.
Greg couldn't speak. He just watched the cops leave, watched Sara look around, all the while knowing it was hopeless.
"I've got blood." Sara replied, shining the ALS on where some blood had been washed away. Greg looked at the small puddle of flourescent blue, and sighed. Then he headed out back.
"Greg?" Sara called after him. "Where are you going?"
He didn't answer, so she followed him outside.
"He saw it on the news. Knew we were close to finding her. So he had to move, becaue those apartments didn't have a backyard."
"Greg..." Sara began, her voice trailing off. She knew exactly what he meant.
Greg started digging frantically, his hands clawing at the grass and soil beneath them.
"Greg, he's only been here two days, the grass wouldn't have grown back if he'd had to..."
But then she stopped, as Greg lifted up a giant piece of turf. Grant had cut it about ten centimetres down, then place it back on again after. Grunting as he lifted the heavy piece of ground, Greg moved it aside. Then there was a silence. There was no doubt about it. They were looking at a wooden lid. A cofin.
"Sara?" he whispered softly.
"Yes?" she replied.
"Will you open it? Tell me what's inside, I...I can't look."
So Sara took a deep breath and lifted the lid, her eyes closed.
The first thing that she noticed was the smell. Opening her eyes gingerly, Sara looked underneath the lid.
"Greg." she whispered, and she looked at him, hugging his knees, his eyes closed, rocking back and forth on the ground.
"Greg." she said again. "You're going to want to see this."
So he looked. He looked at a staircase. The first thing that hit him was confusion. Who puts a coffin lid in a staricase? But then he realised, it was just another piece of wood. His overactive imagination had turned it into a grave. Whatever he had down there though, he didn't want anyone to see.
"Come on." Sara said, taking his hand again and leading him down the metal staircase. It looked just like it smelled. Marijuana. This was where he was growing it, to be sold. Greg noticed lots of it was still in boxes, so he'd obviously moved it from wherever it was before only recently. Saly, there was nothing else. No Catherine, no Lindsey, no signs that they had ever been there. There was however, another door. Greg pushed it open, and saw a long, dark, eerily quiet tunnel. Dragging Sara behind him, they walked down the dark tunnel, Sara shining the ALS, which was the only source of light the officers had given her. Then tunnel led to another staircase, which led up into the house again. They found themselves in a small, windowless room, business papers regarding the sale of the marijuana, littered across the were also several newspaper clippings, recordings from television and radio and magazine entries, all about Catherine, ranging from missing person, to more desperate, frantic 'Have you seen this girl' notices. He had burned everytime she'd been talked about in the news for two years, which was every day for the first few months, then every birthday or anniversary since then. Same with the newspaper and magazine articles. There was always an extra few whenever there was a possible sighting, and the last week there had been more again, the video of Lindsey and Grant ad reports that LVPD was sending some guys to New York to look for her. Then there was a few videos of Greg himself, doing normal, everyday things, driving to work, buying orange juice, jogging, investigating crime cases, sitting on the corner of the street. Then there were several of the flyers Greg had handed out, some with scribbled notes from Bryon, or Thomas, Kevin or Sam. Obviously some of the people Greg had talked to hadn't been so oblivious after all to the wherabouts of Lindsey or Catherine, and had decided to inform Grant themselves that the cops were looking for him.
After looking at all of the stuff, Sara went to the door, not the one thay had came in, but the other one in the room. It was really heavy, she struggled to get it open, ad after she got to the other side, the living room they had previously looked in, and found blood, she realised why. There was a bookcase nailed to the door so it couldn't be seen from the living room.
"Greg?" she called, and he too came out and looked at the big door. "He has this whole place rigged. For somebody who's only lived here a few days, he sure works fast."
"They always do when they have secrets to protect." Greg answered.
"Let,s do another check of the house, this time, look everywhere." Sara told him, and he nodded.
Ten minutes later, a rug, in the downstairs study, was lifted to reveal another trap door, with another metal staircase. This time they could smell it as soon as they went down the first three steps. Decomp.
"Greg, I can look if you want. You can wait upstairs."
"I need to see." he replied. "Smells fresh, probably been dead less than a day."
"Yeah."
They climbed down the last two stairs and searched for a light in the pitch black room. Finding none, Sara turned on the ALS and shone it around. Suddenly she stopped.
"Dead body." she whispered.
Greg, trying to hold back tears, followed her. The body had been covered with a white sheet, which Sara lifted up.
It wasn't her. Greg was staring at the man he'd talked to on the street the other day, who'd ID'ed Grant as Gregory Sandson and told them where his nightclub was.
"Single gunshot wound to the chest." Sara told him. They looked around the rest of the room, nothing.
"Let's check the house again." Greg suggested, catching his breath again. It was the fourth time that day he'd thought he was just seconds away from seeing her again, and he was filled with a sense of relief that she wasn't in a coffin or under a sheet, and anger that they still hadn't found her.
Greg checked the T.V. room, and found a cupboard door, which when opened revealed a childs bedroom, pink and white striped bedsheets, a box of barbie dolls, a bookcase which held all the My Secret Unicorn books, a few posters of pop bands and a wardrobe full of skirts, jeans, dresses and tops with butterflies, hearts and stars. And there was nobody in it.
Sara Sidle was worried for Greg. She had thought him being emotionless was bad, but getting his hopes dashed time and time again had to be worse. And while this house was full of secret rooms, none seemed to hav Catherine in them. sara couldn't help but think it was too late to save her and Linsdey. She couldn't help but think Grant had panicked when he'd realised the cops were looking for him, and gotten rid of her. But she wasn't willing to give up hope, for Greg's sake. Although looking back, she realised hope had been the breaking of him in the first place.
Sara opened up the last cupboard in the kitchen and sighed. Nothing. Turning to leave, Sara slipped on some water on the ground and fell against the fridge door. All of a sudden, something beeped and Sara looked on in shock aas one whole wall of the kitchen moved away, just like a remote controlled garage door.
"Greg!" she called, and he came running into the kitchen.
"Woah." he said, staring at the white wall with a single door in it. "What happened to all the cupboards?"
"Come on." she said, moving to open the door.
"Locked."
"We need to find the key."
"Where would he put it?"
"Bedroom maybe?" he suggested.
As they were searching through the drawers, Greg recalled on some memories.
"Remember Catherine could open any door with just a hairpin?"
"Yeah."
"And she used to always know whenever a guy was lying, just by looking at him."
"I remember."
"If it was me or you missing, Catherine would have found us ages ago."
"Greg, you did everything you could."
"Whatever."
They searched in silence for a while. Then Sara found a set of keys. They tried every one in the door, and finally it swung open.
There was a bed in the room. On it lay a women, face down, with long, curly black hair. She was wearing blue pajama trousers and a too-big concert t-shirt. Sara checked for pulse.
"She's alive, just asleep."
"Oh." Greg didn't really care about her. He only cared about Catherine.
"Greg, there's another room."
They went into the second room, and on another bed, a girl about ten years old lay asleep.
Lindsey.
Greg ran over to the bed and checked for pulse. Once he was certain she was alive, he hugged her tightly. She still didn't wake up.
"Sleeping tablets." Sara noticed, picking up the pill bottle on the floor.
"Catherine used to give her sleeping tablets." Greg remembered.
"When he heard us outside Grant must have hidden Lindsey and whoever that woman is in here and drugged them."
"Doesn't look too uncomfortable." Greg said, looking around the room.
"You're right. Any injuries on Lindsay?"
"A cut on her knee. Doesn't look to bad. A few scratches on her right arm and a bruise on her leg."
"All normal injuries for a girl of that age to have. I'm going to go check that woman."
"Alright." he said, unwilling to let Lindsey go. Then Sara called him in, her voice breaking.
"Sara, what's..." his voice trailed off as he looked at the woman, Sara had turned her around. There wasn't a single bruise or cut on her, and behind the long wavy hair, as black as ink, she has a very familiar face.
"CATHERINE!" Greg cried,pulling the sleeping woman into his arms and sobbing into her shoulder. He wasn't sure how long he held her for, he was aware of Sara calling Nick, Vega and the NYPD. He was aware of the watch he wore slowly ticking. Then, all of a sudden he felt movement. She was waking up. Greg slowly layed her back down onto the bed. The few tears he had left slowly rolled down his cheeks and fell softly on her pajamas. Catherine slowly opened up her eys, and Greg was susrprised to see hazel eyes, instead of blue ones. But what surprised him the most was the way she looked at him, as if puzzled.
"Catherine, we came back for you. I'm sorry we never found you before but I'm here now and they're taking Grrant away and everything can go back to normal." he kissed her then, dropping his mouth onto hers. But while she didn't protest she didn't kiss him back.
"Catherine?" he asked slowly.
"Do I know you?" she whispered.
