Chapter 10
Lost in his memories in the quiet solitude of his office, Grissom was unheeding of anything that went on beyond it. The blinds were shut and it was a little dark. He had not visited these memories in a long while. They had been mercilessly buried, pushed as far away as possible.
With the unexpected revelation that he had a daughter, everything had resurfaced. Nothing was ever simple, life was not so kind.
Grissom remembered her words on that glorious, fateful day, "I stopped believing in happily-ever-after a long time ago, Gil."
He had wanted to ask her why but she had kissed him and he had forgotten. He had never really understood anything then. He understood even less now.
The door suddenly burst open and Grissom was rudely jolted back into the present. Sara was standing in front of his desk, with an irate expression on her face. She was holding a file and talking loudly.
Grissom blinked and tried to focus on what she was saying.
"Our missing person just waltzed into the police station and demanded that we hand her back her daughter. She refuses to answer our questions and asked to see the person in charge. This is nuts! She insists that she and her daughter are fine thank you very much. Well she's not. She can barely walk at all, she's being unbelievable," said Sara in a loud and angry voice.
Someone had certainly ruffled her very badly, thought Grissom. He hoped he didn't end up with another headache from this one. He did not remember that Sara was working on the same case as Warrick.
"Sara, the lady is right here," said Nick's voice in a warning tone.
He had come in behind Sara and was apparently helping someone. Someone in a wheelchair, who was presumably the missing person Sara, was ranting about.
"Thank you," said a female voice softly.
Grissom froze.
"My pleasure ma'am. This is our supervisor Mr. Gil Grissom. I'm sure Warrick has briefed him about the details of your case. So he can clarify things with you. Frankly, at this point we're not very sure what to do. It isn't often that the person we're trying to find actually walks in the door," said Nick in his charming manner.
"I appreciate that," said the woman, who was seated on a wheelchair and still hidden behind Sara.
Sara gave an unladylike snort.
"Grissom, this is Mrs. Catherine Willows. She wants to find out what to do about getting her daughter back. She asked to see you," said Nick, addressing his supervisor.
Neither Sara nor Nick observed the myriad of emotions playing across the face of the normally unemotional Gil Grissom. Nick, because he was busy trying to find a good spot for the wheelchair. Sara, because she was too caught up in her own emotions.
"Sara, let's go," said Nick, quietly, but with an edge of warning in it.
Sara glared at him, but turned to go out. She ignored the woman in the wheelchair and walked pass her in a huff.
Nick sighed, "Sorry about that Mrs. Willows. Sara means well, she's just a little too uptight sometimes."
"Don't worry about it. Thank you very much for all your help, Mr. Stokes. I really appreciate it," said Catherine.
"Don't even mention it. It was a pleasure, ma'am," said Nick with a handsome grin.
"Catherine," she said, raising a hand.
"Then it's Nick," replied Nick, shaking the hand she held out lightly.
Grissom was unable to help himself and simply stared straight at her.
As so many years before, he marvelled at the remarkable woman before him. She was a sight to behold. A black eye, various bruises, lacerations and cuts mended by a number of stitches adorned her face. He had yet to observe the full extent of her injuries as she was seated in a wheelchair and he was behind his desk. She looked terrible, yet she still managed to look magnificent as well.
Nick was not immune to her charms, even in this state. The smile she bestowed on him may have turned out grotesque, from another woman in such a battered state. She made it look gracious and even pleasant. She definitely did not come under the category of ordinary.
Nick nodded to Grissom and left the office. He was caught slightly off-guard at the expression on his boss' face.
"Never seen him stupefied before," muttered Nick to himself. He wondered why, it certainly wasn't the first Grissom had seen a battered wife.
All Grissom's attention was fixed on the woman in the wheelchair before him.
Catherine fiddled with her purse, before sitting up straighter to look at him. She stared him straight in the eye, quite steadily.
"Mr. Grissom," she said, in a cold and formal voice.
Grissom barely suppressed a wince. Her voice had not been cold when he had been with her last. It had been sultry, wistful, warm, teasing or gentle, among other things. But it had never been cold.
He continued to look at her for a few minutes. Neither of them said a word. The tension in the small office was suffocating.
Finally, he cleared his throat to speak.
"Why?" he asked.
She looked at him without comprehension.
"Why didn't you tell me that we have a daughter?" he asked slowly.