Your reviews are fantastic, thank you. This is a bit of a long one, hopefully another update on Friday.

Chapter Nine

It was 11am before Sara got back to the lab, having called for an officer to bring her back; she held her evidence bags tightly in her hands as she made her way towards the DNA lab.

"Hey, Sara. Wow, you look tired." Greg looked up from his microscope as she entered the room.

"I want these processed ASAP." She dismissed his comment. "You haven't text me about the hair I handed you yesterday."

"I've only just had a chance to look at it." He replied.

"Some psycho is out killing women every day, and you think Catherine's drug-overdose is more important?" she snapped.

"It came in first." Greg looked a little wary of her.

Sara brought her hand up to her forehead, she was tired, it was making her dizzy, she couldn't remember if she'd even eaten or drunk anything since yesterday evening.

"You look ill, Sara."

"Just give me the results."

"Hair did have a tag, I ran it through DNA, nothing came through. Give me a sample I can compare it to."

"Run these through for me, Greg." She placed several evidence bags on his table. Although she hadn't found anything ground breaking, there were the blonde hairs again that could be compared to the others in at least the genetic make-up, and a few red fibres that didn't match the scene.

"Sure. The blue fibre you found on the second victim, it's 100% cotton." He looked at her concerned.

"That could be anything." Sara sighed.

"Sara, are you-"

"I'm fine." She cut Greg off, and made her way to the break room for coffee. Pouring herself a cup of the hot liquid, she glugged half of it, hoping it the caffeine would make its way through her body quickly. Filling up the mug again, she went to the evidence room Grissom and she had reserved. She locked the door behind her, taking a marker pen to the whiteboard she had previously written on, she started to try and piece things together.

Victim one – landlord present, neighbour didn't hear anything, but called police. Body found late.

Victim two – landlord away, neighbour heard incident.

Victim three – landlord away, neighbour heard incident.

Victim one was screaming out at her, it was completely different to the other two. Unless the neighbour had a personal connection to the victim, why would they be bothered about quietness from her? Why would they notice she hadn't been to work? Or knock on her door?

Sara pulled Brass' notes from his talk with the neighbour – Mark Harvey. No personal connection to the victim, was simply 'concerned' over quietness coming from next door. But Sara remembered, the victim only had a television in her apartment, no music system – how much noise would she have had to have made on a regular basis for him to notice a lack of? He was registered as unemployed, maybe he just listened to the movements of the apartments around him. It seemed suspicious and unsettled Sara. Taking his file and her coffee, she went into the empty room next door to a computer to run a background check on him.

The computer quickly kicked out a result – one restraining order, placed four years ago by a woman called Nicola Jacobs. Hitting Brass' number on speed dial on her cell, Sara placed the phone to her ear.

"Brass, I think I've got something here. The guy you interviewed from the first apartment block, there's a restraining order out against him. I want to get him in for another interview, it doesn't add up."

"Well we can ask, but we can't force him, there's no evidence to place him at the scene, is there?"

"No, but ask. Brass, what's his hair colour?"

"He's a blonde, why?"

"Just let me know when he's in."

"Okay."

Sara hung up her phone and printed out her results from the computer before going back into the evidence room to tack it up on the board. She sat back on the table and stared at what was before her. If this was the guy, if he would give a voluntary DNA sample, possibly self-assured that he'd left no evidence, it could be compared to the hair sample left on the third victim, it'd be enough for a warrant to search his apartment, and then she'd be almost there in solving the case. Killers were sloppy when it came to their own living space, most liked to surround themselves with their 'weapons' or items they may have taken from the scenes, if she could find something incriminating in his apartment, he could be charged and it'd all be over.

A knock on the door startled Sara from her thoughts, and she spun around to see Nick at the glass. He waved at her, and she slid off the table to open the door, she let him in.

"Hey, Sara. I got you some breakfast." He held up a wrapped food item and passed it to her.

"It's just a breakfast muffin from the diner across the road, but I thought you might be hungry." He smiled at her.

"Thanks, Nick." Appreciative of the food, she unwrapped it and took a bite.

"So, how's the case going?"

"Got Brass chasing one of the neighbours, I think he's the guy I'm looking for."

"I?"

She nodded.

"I thought Grissom was working this one with you as well?"

"Sorry, we." She corrected herself, but only to satisfy Nick. With Grissom AWOL, she considered him uninvolved, and with the tension that had settled between them, she was thankful he wasn't there.

He took a sip of his coffee, "Are you sure you're okay? You've been here more than any of us since you took this case."

"This case is more important than yours." She hadn't meant to be so blunt, but she felt it was true. Of course she couldn't go home. She wasn't going to let anything distract her now.

"Yours may be a multiple, but every case is important, Sara." His reply was soft, he sounded a little hurt.

"Sorry, Nick." She smiled at him apologetically, but her smile disappeared as quickly as it came.

"No harm done. Do you want me to give you a hand? Catherine's sorta gotta it covered on my case, I've got some free time on my hands."

Sara shook her head, finishing her muffin, "I've got all my information in my head, it's easier to sort it out in there." She tapped her temple with her finger, throwing her muffin wrapper in the trash. Truth was, she felt as though she could work quicker on her own, with Nick there she'd need to explain it all to him.

"Just call if you need anything." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before leaving the room.

Sara turned to look back at her whiteboard, just as her phone beeped. It was Brass.

Got the guy. In interrogation room three. See you there.


Pulling her chair back from the table, it screeched across the floor, breaking the silence that had filled the room. Mark Harvey was staring at her, a cold stare that made her skin crawl. She sat down opposite him, across the table. She placed the photos of Rachel Lodge, his neighbour, murdered on her bed.

"This is your neighbour." Sara spoke slowly, watching Mark's reaction.

He was a tall, well-built man, with spiky blonde hair. He wore jeans and a black t-shirt, and sat with his arms crossed as he leant back in his seat. "Yes, that's her."

"What was your relationship with the victim?"

"I've already been interviewed, I've answered all these questions before."

"Answer them again."

"We were neighbours. We said hello if we passed in the corridor, that's it."

"But you noticed that she hadn't been to work for two days."

"I don't have a job… I notice things."

"But you didn't hear her being brutally raped and then killed?"

"I must have been out."

"Do you have an alibi for Wednesday night?"

"I went out alone."

"Where?"

"For a walk."

"Where?"

"Does it matter?"

"Just answer the question." Sara was getting tired of playing games.

"Just around the park near the complex."

"Did you see anyone enter or leave the building that night?"

"No."

This was going nowhere. Sara glanced at the one-way glass to the side of the room, she knew Brass was watching. She'd insisted on interviewing this guy alone and Brass had protested, but Sara had stood her ground and he'd given in. She was starting to wish she hadn't bothered getting this guy in, he wasn't co-operating, and she had nothing to hold him on.

"Can I go yet?" he asked, the same cold stare fixed on her.

"Would you give a voluntary DNA swab to prove your innocence?"

"No."

"Where were you last night?"

"I was in my apartment."

"Do you have an alibi?"

"No."

"Again? Not spend much time with anyone?"

"What's it to you?" his tone was turning sharper with her.

"Who is Nicola Jacobs?" Sara asked, but she already knew, Brass had pulled the file for her before she went into the interrogation room.

"My ex-girlfriend."

"She has a restraining order against you."

"I was taking care of her."

"She dumped you."

"She needed someone to watch out for her."

"You followed her."

"I was taking care of her." He repeated.

"She didn't want you to. Did Rachel not want you to either? So you killed her?"

"I didn't kill her!" he exclaimed, his fists banging on the metal table between them.

"Do you have an anger problem?" Sara asked calmly.

"No, I just have a problem with stupid bitches like you." He spat, rising from his seat.

Sara pulled back slightly at his quick movements, but he was out of the interrogation room door before she knew it. She sat in her seat for a few seconds before leaving the room herself, heading down the corridor to the bathroom.

Her stomach churned as she locked the bathroom door and she dropped to the toilet bowl, her knees hitting the tiled floor hard. She gagged once before bringing up the contents of her stomach into the bowl. Her stomach burned, as did her throat, with the little amount she'd brought up, and she sat back against the locked door. She was back to square one, her one suspect had left - with no evidence against him she had no reason to hold him there. The case was at a dead end, and she was playing the waiting game. Waiting for another woman to die.