In the immediate aftermath of the interview - when Sofia clicked off the tape - a brief silence fell. Catherine looked sideways to Sara, and Sara met her gaze, emotionally worn, but holding up. She had made it through the entire interview without crying, stubbornly maintaining her composure even as Catherine held her trembling fingers in her hand. Catherine gave her fingers a last squeeze as they moved to stand.
"You did the right thing," Sofia offered kindly.
Sara met her eyes without comment. She stood quietly as the door opened, and Grissom, Nick and Warrick edged into the doorway. Nick's worried eyes searched hers, but she spared him only a glance, squeezing his arm in wordless thanks on the way past. She stepped through the crowd in the doorway before walking calmly up the corridor. The eyes of everyone in the crowd trailed after her as she stopped at a distant vending machine, unearthing a few stray coins from her jeans' pocket. A can of diet coke dropped with a clunk, and she opened it, moving into a visible breakout room.
"You think she's okay?" Warrick asked quietly.
"She just needs a minute," Catherine replied.
She would have said more, but the presence of Ecklie and Brass in the doorway held her silent. Gradually they peeled their eyes away from Sara, until only Grissom was left watching, his eyes narrowed on her in contemplation.
"Maybe we should skip the preliminaries on this one," Brass said softly. "Round him up, jam his nose into the back of his skull and leave him to rot out with the coyotes. I can't believe he did that to her. She invites him home, thinking he's a nice guy, and he screws her round so hard she doesn't even know which way's up. Leaves us to pick up the pieces."
His comment was met with several pairs of sympathetic eyes. Catherine sighed.
"Let's just find a way forward," she said. "Focus on the job."
Ecklie stepped forward. "We know there's dogs all over the streets, patrols where he was last sighted. Between that and the APB, it shouldn't be long. In the meantime, though, the four of you need to gather your things. Mr. Braun's volunteered the top floor of his hotel to keep you safe until he's caught."
Catherine felt something within her snap to attention. Her mouth opened.
"There's no arguments, Catherine," Ecklie said, holding up a firm hand. "We need you somewhere safe and out of the way. The premises are centrally located, under 24 hour surveillance, and are easily guarded by our officers. It's done. Grissom, we'll have officers escort you, Warrick and Nick home to pick up some clothes. You'll meet them there. Catherine, you and Sara are going with Sofia."
He gave them a hard look to drum in his instructions before turning to leave. A short way up the corridor, Catherine spotted Sam Braun on the phone. She inwardly cringed, closing her eyes for a moment to stifle her frustration.
"Guess we'll see you there," Nick said.
Catherine nodded. Nick, Warrick and Sofia left the room, but as she made to follow Grissom stopped her, a gentle hand on her elbow. He waited until the others were out of earshot before speaking, and cast another glance at Sara, who was still a little way up the corridor.
"Keep an eye on her," he said quietly.
Catherine stared, wondering what he expected to happen. Before he could explain, however, he was staring in confusion at the now empty corridor. Sara was gone.
"Where'd she go?" she asked.
But Grissom had no answer. Worried, they walked together down the corridor, but a quick glance into the breakout rooms revealed no sign of her. Knowing she had not come in the direction of the interview room, Catherine continued up the corridor until she reached the junction. There was no sign of her in either corridor, but her eyes caught the door of the ladies' toilets.
"Wait here," she told Grissom.
She pushed open the door and entered the brightly lit restrooms. A long line of cubicles stretched along one wall, with old fashioned sinks and mirrors at the other. The cubicle doors were all open except for one near the far end. An abandoned diet coke can sat by the sink.
Catherine approached, her heels echoing off the tiles.
"Sara?"
There was no reply. She tapped a knuckle lightly on the door.
"You okay in there?"
"I'll be out in a minute," came a quiet voice. "I'll catch you up."
Catherine did not move. The cubicle was ominously silent; there were no sounds to indicate Sara was moving. She took a step back, glancing at the gap under the door. She could see Sara sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Suspicions confirmed, she nodded to herself, but knew not to press her.
"Thanks to your statement, it looks like we're gonna nab this guy," she said, leaning back against the sink. "We've got charges of reckless endangerment, false imprisonment, assault, theft of a weapon, resisting arrest and attempted murder. We've been ordered to wait it out at the Rampart while they close the net. But after that, he won't be hurting anyone else for a long time."
She was not altogether surprised when Sara did not immediately answer. For a moment she listened to the echoes of footsteps in the corridor outside.
When Sara did speak, her voice was soft and hesitant.
"Catherine..?"
"Yeah?"
The shadows on the tiles shifted as Sara stood. The lock untwisted with a metallic click. Sara emerged, her brown eyes clouded with uncertainty.
"Are we doing the right thing?"
"Yes," she replied, without hesitation. "The way he treated you, the attempted murder of Sofia at the hospital ... we have a responsibility to keep ourselves and the public safe."
She was no fool, and saw clearly what Sara was thinking. The argument of his attempt to shoot Sofia was the one thing she could think of that could possibly ground Sara into helping them. It was the only part of the ordeal she could find hard to dismiss.
"You having doubts?" she asked.
"I ... don't know what to think," Sara admitted. She looked troubled. "What to do."
"We only have two choices," Catherine reasoned. "Stop him in his tracks, or drop the charges and wait for him to gun us all down on our way home." She paused. She felt slightly guilty at pushing her, and yet if disaster was to be avoided there was no other option. "Maybe he'd start with Grissom - head of the team."
She eyed Sara, trying to impress upon her the likely scenario. Sara closed her eyes. After a moment Catherine stepped forward, gently holding her forearm.
"Can you do it?" she asked. "Testify?"
It crossed her mind with an unpleasant lurch that Sara had been crowbarred into giving a statement, and that already she was wavering. She knew with a sinking feeling that they would face an uphill battle in getting her onto the stand in court. And despite his attempt to murder Sofia, the case would struggle without Sara's testimony. The bullet in the hospital had missed by too large a margin to get a successful conviction on attempted murder alone.
They were interrupted as the door opened. They turned to see Sofia gingerly step in, leading Grissom.
His concerned eyes honed in on Sara, who was still looking away at the floor.
"Sara?" he ventured.
She slowly looked up, her eyes still haunted with the scenario of his death.
She met Catherine's eyes.
"I won't let anyone get hurt," she answered.
Sara crossed to join Sofia and Grissom, but Catherine did not immediately follow. It had been far from the promise she had sought.
XXX
In the back seat of the squad car, Catherine watched the neon lights of the Las Vegas strip blur past. The trip from the station had been taken in silence. Beside her, Sara stared out the window with a morose expression, and since she had emerged from the restroom Grissom had not left her company. One glance into her troubled eyes and he had insisted that he had an adequate change of clothes in the back of his truck, and did not need to return home. He had sat down in the squad car with them before anyone could argue, and now Brass sat in the driver's seat, escorting them to the hotel.
Catherine shifted in her seat, the bullet proof vest tight around her torso. Brass had called it a wise precaution, but to Catherine it felt overdramatic. It was hard to imagine that their assailant would be waiting for them in a casino. He was more likely to be heading out of town.
The Rampart came into view, the drive through entry alive with the flashing lights of squad cars. In the middle of the chaos was Sam's limosine, and he stood amongst the crowd, dealing out instructions to his suited employees. Sofia was also visible, but it was the media which caught Catherine's eye. Outside the front doors a flock of cameras were filming their reporters, talking fast into microphones. A crowd had gathered along the sidelines.
Brass glanced over his shoulder at them as he pulled in.
"You ready?"
"My life as a celebrity," Catherine said dully, eyeing the cameras.
"Yeah, well, just don't stop to sign any autographs," Brass replied.
He switched off the ignition as Sofia and several male officers came hurrying toward them. Catherine got out the car, slammed the door with a thud, and paused to eye the commotion. The words of the closest female reporter caught her ears.
"... Yes, Maree, the drama following last night's wild shootout across the emergency room of the Desert Palm Hospital has this morning escalated into a statewide manhunt. We're being told hundreds of officers of the LVPD are involved in the hunt for the alleged would-be murderer, 31-year-old Sebastian Reed. It is now believed that Reed went to the hospital in an attempt to kill a specific member of the LVPD's Crime Scene Investigation team, who had been taken for treatment following an unknown incident at her apartment late last night. What's happening now is that we're seeing a large contingent of law enforcement gathering here at the Rampart, the casino and hotel owned by notorious figure Sam Braun. I must stress that the information here is unclear at this stage, we're still waiting on an official statement from the police, but we are getting unconfirmed reports that the alleged assailant Sebastian Reed is believed to be targeting members of the CSI team, who are being placed into lockdown on the hotel's penthouse suite for their own safety. Casino mogul Sam Braun has volunteered to help the police, due to his daughter being a member of the CSI team and fearing for her safety from a suspect who is known to be armed and is considered extremely dangerous. Mr Braun, what can you tell us about events unfolding here this morning?"
Catherine eyed her father as she stepped in front of the camera, as cool and calm as if it were any normal day.
"I'm not at liberty to provide details on the events which have occurred. However I can say that I am gravely concerned at what has taken place and the threat these people are under, and I am more than willing to offer accommodation and security to these people, and do what I can to assist in upholding justice in our city ..."
Catherine narrowed her eyes as Grissom's voice floated somewhere nearby.
"Catherine?"
She looked to him, seeing him standing with Brass and Sara, ready to go in. Sara was looking over the scene with the same distant and thoughtful expression she had worn for several hours.
Catherine collared the nearest suited Rampart employee, passing him her bag.
"Take them upstairs," she ordered.
She did not look back as she began walking, heading toward Sam.
She heard Grissom call somewhere behind her. "Catherine!"
"God save us," Brass added. "Will someone grab her, this thug could be anywhere. Media has your location lit up like a lighthouse -"
She made it halfway toward Sam when a strong hand seized her arm, pulling her to a stop. It was Sofia. She looked stressed, urgently scanning the streetscape.
"Catherine -"
She looked around, about to shake her off, but caught something in Sofia's eyes. She followed her glance back to the doors, and saw Sara, turned away, with Grissom's arm around her shoulders. He seemed to be talking quietly to her. She looked unsteady, as if ready to be sick.
Thoughts of cornering her father vanished, and Catherine strode automatically back toward them. Sofia kept a tight grip on her arm, not releasing her.
"You do that again, and next time we'll keep you safe in a cell," Brass greeted.
Catherine bit back a retaliation, knowing it was not the time.
"Let's go," Grissom insisted.
XXX
It was a half hour later that things had calmed again. The media were forgotten somewhere below on the street - out of sight and mind - and they were secure in the elite penthouse suite of the hotel. It had been not long after their arrival that Nick and Warrick had joined them, and were even now still stunned by the luxury of the apartment. They were gathered near the windows by the pool table, staring out at the unimpeded view of the Las Vegas day getting underway outside. The sun was blinding, the heat seeping through the windows. Far below the streets were buzzing with cars and traffic. The scene was so normal Catherine found it hard to believe the situation they were in. Yet somewhere out there, whether in the city or the desert wilderness, Reed was roaming, armed with Sara's weapon and bent on killing them.
She sighed.
"You okay?" Warrick asked, pausing nearby.
"Yeah, I -"
But the words didn't come. She broke off with a slight shrug.
"It's like being in prison," she confessed.
"Oh, it's not so bad," Nick said, trying to adopt a cheerful tone. "You know your father obviously loves you. It's not for us that he's doing all this."
He glanced pointedly around the luxury apartment. It had not only several luxury bedrooms with their own ensuites, but also a heated spa, bowling alley, grand piano and half basketball court. Nick and Warrick had first walked in as though all their Christmases had come at once. Across the living room Grissom was examining the contents of two boxes left to them by Brass - the archived case files of the suicide death of Reed's former partner - and Sara had wandered toward the kitchen for a glass of water.
Catherine felt Warrick's hands land on the back of her shoulders, massaging gently.
"You know it's going to be fine, right?" he asked. "It's just a game of patience. Gotta wait it out."
"Could always be worse," Nick chimed. "I can think of a lot of worse places to be than here."
"Yeah, I know."
She enjoyed the massage for another few blissful seconds before pulling herself together. She turned around to see Nick chalking up a cue.
He smiled. "Long as we're here, though, might as well make the most of it, right?"
He looked up to Sara, who had wandered back in with the water.
"You wanna play?"
She gave a polite, tired smile. "Thanks, but I think I'm gonna get some sleep. I've only slept about an hour in the last thirty-six."
His smile evaporated into concern. "Sure."
"You okay?" Catherine asked.
She nodded. "Just tired. It's been a long night."
Catherine studied her eyes, but they were sincere. Sara gave another tired smile, and turned to head for her room.
Nick and Warrick watched her go, concerned.
"We'll keep an eye on her," Catherine said quietly.
Nick nodded. "Guess sleep could be the best medicine. Recharge the batteries."
For a moment there was silence. Then, knowing there was nothing they could do, Nick held out the cue.
"You guys go ahead," Catherine said. "I'll play the winner."
She turned, heading for the door.
"Where're you going?" Warrick asked.
"There's something I have to handle."
XXX
It was two minutes later that she entered her father's private office, sweeping through past the security guards, her young escorting LVPD officer hurrying to catch up. She stopped in the doorway to his inner sanctuary, spotting him on the phone behind his mahogany desk, looking out the window as he spoke.
He broke off as he spotted her. "I'll call you back -"
He put his phone on the desk. "I was wondering when you'd find me."
Catherine looked over her shoulder to the young rookie. "I'll just be a minute."
He nodded, waiting outside. She closed the door. Turning, she saw Sam standing confidently before her. He calmly waved to a leather lounge suite.
"I take it you came to thank me," he started.
His voice carried the undercurrent that he knew she had done the opposite, but she was not put off. She sat down in the chair opposite, and despite her feelings, resolved to make the effort to start off on the right foot.
"I'm grateful," she began.
"I saw your gratitude at the station," he cut in. "Your expression when your boss suggested you stay here."
"That was surprise," she argued.
He laughed. "The same kind of pleasant surprise as when you first got the call about your friend."
His words stung. She gave them a second to dissipate, and then sighed, already tired of arguing.
"Why are you doing this, Sam? I saw the cameras outside, but if you'd wanted a PR exercise, you could have donated to charity."
He looked firm into her eyes. "I don't care about the media. I care about my family."
She scoffed before she could stop herself.
"You don't believe me?" he asked, calmly stretching his arms out on the sofa.
"You really expect me to believe that you're throwing away the income from that penthouse suite out of goodwill?"
"I gave you my reason. I got a call from your mother. She was in a panic, said an armed gunman was hunting you down. That you were refusing to answer your phone. I arrived at the station and listened to your friend's statement, that he'd already raped her and tried to kill her. You can't call me flawed for not wanting that to happen to you."
"He didn't rape her," she said automatically.
"Maybe you weren't counting the number of drinks he bought her. The state she must have been in ..."
Catherine shook her head, not wanting to hear it. That it had been consensual was the one thing of the whole ordeal that she was absolutely sure of.
"It was consensual," she said flatly.
"Fine," he said calmly. "I don't consider it my business. I'm just taking care of my family." He paused. "Is that really so hard to believe?"
His blue eyes were cool, but it was hard to gauge his sincerity. Not knowing what to think, she made to stand.
"A little tip," he said, stopping her in her tracks. "If you want to help your friend, ask her what she's hiding."
She stared, not comprehending.
"I've lived in this town a long time," he said. "I know a lie when I see one."
XXX
When Catherine returned to the hotel room, it was to find that Sara had indeed fallen asleep. She tiptoed into the room to find the daylight glowing faintly through the drawn curtains, and Sara tucked up under the covers. She crept out again just as silently, with no choice but to file away Sam's comment for a later hour. The remainder of the day slipped away in relative inactivity. They watched the news, but as the day wore on, there was increasingly little to report. They checked intermittently on Sara, but she proved to be genuinely exhausted. It was not until sunset that she emerged, wearing a tank top, jeans and socks, and rubbing her eyes tiredly.
"Hey," Warrick greeted warmly. "Sleeping beauty awakes."
They had been relaxing on the lounge suite for nearly half an hour, the news playing in the background, and twisted their heads to see behind them as Sara neared. Catherine swiftly hit the 'off' button on the remote control, not wanting Sara to see the news footage. The room was pleasantly quiet, the golden sunset streaming through the windows.
Sara's face lit up with a teasing smile. "To the best of my memory, sleeping beauty only woke because she was kissed."
"Well, hey, we can arrange that," Nick said. "But I get to be the prince, right?"
Offering her a seat beside him, he gave her a friendly peck on the cheek. Warrick patted her briefly on the back.
"You look a lot better," Catherine observed.
"I feel ..." She drifted off, considering.
"A lot better than you did this morning," Grissom finished.
She nodded. "Yeah." Her eyes flitted to the blank television. "What's news?"
Catherine shared an uneasy glance with the others, debating what to tell her. It was Warrick who answered.
"Well," he said, "they're doing everything they can. Pulling double and triple shifts out there. Chasing every lead."
"There's no news," Sara clarified.
But she did not look bothered, nodding as though she had anticipated the answer. But it was in her content expression that Catherine was reminded of what Sam Braun had said. Sara seemed far too unsurprised that they had made no progress. She wondered if he had been right, that Sara knew more than she had told them.
Out of the corner of her eye she sensed Grissom watching her, raising an eyebrow, but as she opened her mouth to speak the door clicked open. Brass and Sofia sailed in, looking windswept and exhausted.
Catherine stood to meet them.
"Hey, how's it going?"
Brass offered a dead shrug. "We've had better days. He's probably been tipped off by the media. Either already fled or laying low."
He caught sight of Sara, and moved around Catherine, hoisting a positive expression as he went to greet her. Catherine turned to Sofia, who had stopped mid-step at a small table. Her hair was falling out of its ponytail, and she looked ready to collapse.
Catherine felt a pang of sympathy.
"You look beat," she said.
Sofia eyed the company, and lowered her voice so only Catherine could hear.
"I wish we had better news," she replied. "But wherever he is, he's long gone. We've combed every street in Vegas. The highways, his home neighborhood, your homes ... there's been no news or sightings in hours now."
It had not been the news Catherine had been hoping to hear, and she gave it a second to sink in. No one had mentioned what would happen if he could not be caught. No one knew. But Catherine knew that at some stage, they would have to return to their normal lives. They could not remain under guard forever. Yet there was nothing stopping him from emerging at whatever time that was, and finishing the job when the circus had finally drawn its curtain.
"How is she?" Sofia asked, eyeing Sara.
"She slept all day," Catherine answered. "Only just woke."
Sofia nodded, just as Brass raised his voice to address the room.
"Anyway, we came to see if you guys want some dinner. Sam Braun's got us a table at the restaurant downstairs. It's on the house."
"Hey, I'm game," Warrick replied.
Everyone agreed, Sara rising with a smile and going to collect her shoes, and a minute later they headed downstairs.
XXX
When they arrived, the restaurant was only half-full, the air full with a quiet hum of conversation, the musical tinkling of silverware against plates. A grand piano sat unmanned in the centre of the room, but their own table was against the far wall. As they gathered Catherine tried to ignore Sam Braun's suited guards at the entrance. Despite the oppressive feeling of being under constant guard, it felt good to finally get out of the hotel room. They chose their seats as Sofia tugged at the clasp on her heavy police belt.
"I gotta take this thing off," she said absently. "It's got enough weight to sink the titanic."
She dropped it on the table, her gun, keys, radio and handcuffs landing with a metallic clatter. She gave an exhausted sigh as she sat down. Sara sat beside her. It was a moment later that the waiter arrived with their menus, and Sara cast her eyes down the list with interest.
"You hungry?" Brass asked kindly.
"I'm starving," Sara replied, still reading.
Catherine was not surprised. She could not recall Sara eating anything since their midnight chat in Grissom's office. She cast her eyes down her own menu, examining the wine list. If they were going to survive this ordeal, she was in urgent need of a drink.
"I always thought that's the problem with graveyard," Warrick said, opening his own. "You sleep all day, wake in the evening to start your day with dinner. It's all backwards."
Sara smiled at him. "Lucky for me, I was never any good at breakfast."
She pushed her menu aside toward Sofia's discarded gear. "I'll be back in a minute. Can you order for me?"
Nick looked up. "What would you like?"
"Surprise me." She pointed to the nearby passage and the ladies' sign. "I'll just be ..."
They nodded. When she had departed Brass turned to them, his expression now serious.
"So how is she really?" he asked quietly. "She really okay?"
"She seems fine now," Nick replied.
"Slept all day," Warrick added. "Worked miracles."
"But what about this morning." He looked to Catherine. "She didn't say a word to anyone, you followed her into the bathroom. Was she being sick in there?"
"She's fine," Catherine replied briefly, feeling suddenly protective. "She just needed a minute. Too many prying eyes."
"It's not easy to give such a personal statement in front of your work colleagues," Grissom added.
"I'm not saying it is," Brass replied. "But look, just between us, Ecklie's been making some calls. He's found a psychiatrist who specialises in this type of thing. Says he's willing to talk with her."
Nick held up a hand, swiftly interrupting. "You know, I'm willing to bet, that sitting down with a shrink is the last thing she feels like doing right now. She's feeling better. Let's just give her a breather, okay?"
"I agree," Catherine added.
"I'm just the messenger," Brass said. "The help's there if it's needed."
He narrowed his eyes suddenly at Grissom, who had adopted a vacant, contemplative look.
"Gil?" he prompted.
Grissom shrugged one shoulder. "She gave her statement. I think as long as we're perceived to be in danger, she'll see it through. I don't think Sara's health is the question right now."
"What is the question?" Sofia asked.
Catherine followed his gaze until it locked firmly onto herself.
"Sooner or later," he said, "I'm going to ask you what you're hiding."
"Hiding?" Warrick repeated.
She felt all eyes suddenly upon her, and sighed, shrugging them off.
"According to Sam," she replied, "I'm not the one we need to be asking."
They opened their mouths to question her, but were interrupted as a waiter arrived.
"Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready to order?"
"Yes please," Warrick replied, picking up his menu. "I'll have a uh ..."
They ordered drinks and food, one by one. By the time they worked their way around the table, another minute had passed. Nick finally ordered for Sara, but as the waiter departed his eyes fell to her empty seat.
"You know," he said, eyes narrowing in concern, "she's been a while ..."
Catherine's eyes flew to the clock on the wall. It had been over five full minutes.
Sofia was already on her feet. "I'll go -"
Catherine joined her. They made their way down the short side passage until they reached the door to the ladies' toilets, and pushed it open. At the sinks a girl with long blonde hair was preening in the mirror. As they walked through the inner door, they saw three of the cubicle doors were closed.
"Sara?" Catherine called.
There was no reply.
"Sara, are you in here?"
There was still no reply. Something shifted, the sense that something was very wrong rising within her. Sofia exchanged an anxious look and called out to the room.
"Ladies, this is the LVPD. Can you please identify yourselves?"
Two of the doors immediately clicked open - one revealing a scared elderly Chinese woman, and the other a teenage girl.
Catherine crossed to the last door and knocked.
"Ma'am?"
"My name's Nicole!" the girl called.
Catherine turned around, hurrying back through the door to the sinks. She held up her badge to the blonde girl.
"LVPD," she said quickly. "Did you see a woman with brown hair come through here? Blue jeans, brown jacket -"
The girl was shaking her head, alarmed. "No, I only saw them -"
She pointed at the door to the cubicles. Alarmed, Catherine momentarily hesitated, then hurried back into the side passage. She glanced each way, but there was no sign of anyone.
Sofia stopped beside her. "Where'd she go?"
"I have no idea," Catherine replied.
Wondering if their paths had somehow crossed, she hurried back toward the restaurant floor. Sara's seat was still empty. Catching her gaze, her colleagues' eyes immediately widened in alarm.
"I can't find her," Catherine explained, cutting them off mid-query.
"She's not in there?" Brass asked quickly, rising.
"No, she -"
But Catherine broke off, her eyes suddenly falling to Sara's empty place at the table. The large menus now returned to the waiter, she could see what had been hidden before. Her eyes raked over Sofia's discarded police belt.
"Where's your weapon?" she asked.
Sofia's eyes narrowed, passing over the table. Her hands automatically reached for her absent belt. Catherine saw that it had not been reclipped to her jeans.
"I ..."
"You put it down ..." Grissom said, catching on.
Sofia crouched for a moment, checking under the table, but there was nothing there.
Warrick dived for her remaining possessions, spreading them out with a clatter.
"Your keys are missing."
Catherine heaved a breath, everything suddenly falling horribly into place. In an instant she was running, leaving her colleagues behind her. She rushed back down the passage, but passed the toilets to the fire door at the far end. She threw it open - crashing against the brick wall with a deafening clang - and threw herself down the flight of concrete stairs. At the ground she crashed open the next fire door, exiting into the fresh night air at the rear of the casino. She made straight for a young male suited parking attendant nearby.
"LVPD," she called. "Did you see a woman come through here?"
He shrugged, calm. "Yeah. One of your people -"
"Where is she?" she demanded.
He pointed vaguely over his shoulder. "She took the car. Left."
"You let her go?"
He looked confused. "We were told to obey to you people ..."
She stifled the urge to thump him just as the door behind her crashed open again. Sofia and Nick were first out, rushing to flank her. Their eyes scanned the parking lot, then searched her for an explanation.
"Where is she?" Nick asked.
"Gone," Catherine replied.
She swept back her hair, and cringed.
This chapter was so long in coming that I'm almost scared to think about how annoyed people must be with me. I think I lost my way a little with this one, but am now back on track. I hope people are still interested in reading this, and that you are still enjoying it. Fingers crossed.
