CHAPTER 11

Notifications are sent out to all law enforcement agencies in Nevada. Checkpoints and 'be on the look-out' (BOLO) notices for Nash and his vehicle are sent to every airport, bus and train security offices, but so far there have been no sightings of Nash's beat up truck. A deputy sheriff who works the Pahrump area sees the B.O.L.O from Las Vegas and believes Nash looks like man who robbed liquor store there with a gun a few days ago. He quickly contacts the Las Vegas Police Department with his information; leaving it to Captain Brass to relay the information to Gil and Catherine.

"Looks like our misfit knocked off a liquor store in Pahrump a few days ago." Jim sits at ease in Grissom's office as he tosses the artist's sketch of the suspect from that crime onto his friend's desk. He sits looking from his Grissom to Catherine and back again, to gauge their response as they survey the likeness.

"Are they sure it was him? Pahrump is sixty miles west of Vegas and well off the main highway." Catherine has images of her last trip out to the small, dingy town on a previous case in mind; and can't understand why anyone would want to go there.

"No, Cath... it makes sense. Think about it, if you're Nash... you're trying to stay under the radar. You wouldn't hit a place here in town..." Grissom leans forward in his chair, tapping his finger on the blotter as he continues, "... you'd hit some place small, out of the way..."

"Like Pahrump. Yeah, I see where you're coming from." Jim Brass waggles his finger side to side at Grissom in agreement as he picks up this line of thinking. "And maybe... you're staying at a hotel or motel in that run down piece of hell, too."

Catherine reluctantly admits there is credence to the argument about Pahrump being a good place to stay off the radar of law enforcement in Nevada. There was nothing in that town except some old mining interests and the people who worked them, a couple of dingy casinos and a bunch of local folk who liked the fact that they were in the middle of nowhere and getting little to no attention from the outside world.

Grissom can't stand sitting round doing nothing and he glares at the likeness of Nash from the Pahrump bulletin as his gut churns. "Did we send that FAX out to all the hotels and motels in the Vegas area or statewide? If this guy is in Pahrump..."

"It's out there, Gil... I personally sent it out to all hotels and motels on our network to check for his name, her name or his truck on registries. So far nothing has come in from any hotel or motel."

"I'm not sure all the small run down motels are on that fax network, Catherine... or if they even pay attention to those bulletins we send out." Brass, always the bearer of good news, feels the need to enlighten them as to the reality of the less reputable lodging establishments in their state.

"Brass... you're not helping. Can we focus on doing something positive... like checking them one by one?" Grissom knows the minute the words leave his mouth how unrealistic his request is, but the looks from his two friends only confirm it.

"You want us to personally check with ever low-end motel, hotel and hostel in Vegas... or were you suggesting we check every one in Nevada?" Brass can't keep the smirk from the corner of his mouth when he sees Grissom's eyes roll at his sarcasm.

"Yes! No... hell, I'll do it myself if it means finding Sara before that nut case has a chance to take her out of state." Grissom's anger is not directed at them as he shoves himself back in his chair.

Just then there is a knock on his door and Greg peaks his head in, unsure of his welcome after overhearing Grissom's latest outburst. "Hey... Grissom...?"

"Yeah, what is it, Greg?" Grissom tries hard to keep the frustration out of his voice as he addresses the timid lab tech.

"Uhm, I got a hit... from Sara's bank." He steps into the office as all three supervisors turn their attention to him. "Someone has been trying to use her debit card... mainly at off-site ATM's."

"Any video?"

"Not so far... he's being careful to only use ATM's in gas stations, laundromats... places like that where they don't have cameras for the most part."

"Where were the attempts made at, Greg?" Grissom again leans forward, believing this may be a break for them after three days of frustration.

"Well, that's the problem... they're all over the place. Some in South Vegas, north side, Henderson..."

"Anything out west... like towards Pahrump?"

"Pahrump... no, nothing that far out... but there are a couple from the west suburbs of Vegas... why?"

Catherine holds up the bulletin with the sketch of the liquor store robber so Greg can look it over. He steps closer to examine it and then comments, "Wow... looks like Nash. You think he's out there?"

"Right now... we don't know where they are Greg... don't let one BOLO distract you from the wider search, okay?" As always, Grissom's wisdom cuts through to the heart of the matter.

Greg nods and gives the BOLO one last look before he mumbles something about getting back to his search and leaving them alone once again. A tense silence stretches on in his absence until Catherine sighs and stands up with one last comment, "Looks like he's in need of money, Gil... robbing a liquor store, trying to access Sara's accounts... he's desperate to leave... but without money... he's still here."

"That's what I'm afraid of... he's desperate enough to do just about anything right now." Grissom's only thoughts are what he will do to Sara if he gets angry enough.

"That may work to our favor, Grissom. Nash may be desperate enough to make a mistake. So far he's been pretty careful... staying off the radar, keeping his activities widespread to defeat our attempts to track him. He may just try something stupid and then we'll get him... I promise." Jim also stands up to take his leave and he and Catherine try to give their friend positive smiles, but he is lost in his own thoughts and doesn't even seem to notice as they leave.

Catherine knows she can't keep an eye on Grissom around the clock and with his desperation to find Sara, he could do something crazy like head out to Pahrump on his own... or go search every run-down motel in the area. She has never seen him like this, responding emotionally and not thinking things through in his normal logical approach. She decides to keep tabs on him just in case and heads to the Audio Visual Lab to discreetly ask Archie to ping Gil's phone once every hour, just to be on safe side. Archie was there when they watched the Rampart video and understands Catherine's concerns. He agrees to report only to her so no one else is aware they are tracking the boss.

The rest of the lab is working to process the evidence, as slim as it is from the Rampart. They have also contacted the San Francisco Police to get the full history on their suspect. Not surprisingly, he was in trouble with the law a lot after Sara left him; as well as the domestic violence stuff with her. After she left he went off the deep end and began a mini crime spree; wanting to be killed by a cop. Nash was eventually taken into custody without getting his wish and sent to prison for 2.5 years on a string of robbery convictions.

Nash was released from prison three months ago and according to records he was supposed to be living with his in Modesto. Nash absconded from parole after only one month and hasn't been seen since by anyone in northern California. The local cop did some follow-up with his mother in their attempts to locate Nash, but she could only say that he talked about Sara a lot after he got out. He wanted to know where she was, where she was working now... and if she was all right. Nash hounded her old friends and work places, then one day he just disappeared. From what Grissom's team has been able to piece together; someone let it slip that Sara had moved to Las Vegas.


His plan had been to win big and then win Sara back in style, showing her how successful he was now. However, Nash had not planned on the crooked cheats that operated the gaming tables in Las Vegas stealing all of his money. He'd tried to confront them on it a time or two, but the goons who were hired as security for the casinos quickly threw him out the door with orders not to return or he'd be arrested. His plan turned to desperation after that; which quickly turned to panic as the days went by and he was reduced to doing day labor jobs with the illegals on the street corners just to make a few bucks to maintain this rat infested hotel room.

In his mind, being successful was the only way Sara would agree to come back to him. He'd been told she was working for some well-known lab down here, successful and respected. She would never take him back if he was an out of work loser... like he'd been back then. Being in prison and sharing a cell with a man who'd made his living conning older women out of their fortunes had taught him that. Women wanted men who were successful, wealthy and charming. Nash knew he could be all of those things if he could just make a score to establish his wealth. So in a last-ditch effort to win his fortune, he robbed a liquor store in Pahrump and managed to get away clean with all they had, a total of four-hundred and thirty-two dollars.

With that money he returned to the false glitz and glitter of Las Vegas, intent on winning his fortune at the poker tables. There were plenty of casino's that he hadn't been thrown out of yet, but little did he know, the casinos shared information about trouble makers. And in his short time in Las Vegas, Nash had already managed to earn that label. It was that morning, when he sat in the Rampart Casino, grumbling at the poker dealer about the questionable dealing of the cards when he once again brought himself to the attention of the security officers.

At first, he was shocked when he'd been rudely grabbed by the scruff of his neck and dragged off the gaming floor by those two goons in suits. They gave him a none too gentle shove into a back hallway that Nash realized as being 'off limits' to normal customers. He began to realize he may be in some trouble when they shoved him into a darkened room that smelled of disinfectant and mildew. When the door closed behind them and the two goons turned their attention to him once more... Nash had no doubts... this was not going to end well. After they had worked him over and given him their gangster spiel about waking up in a shallow grave in the desert if he ever returned, they dragged him out the back entrance of the casino. Dumping him roughly on the asphalt parking lot with one last warning that he was not welcome on any of the Sam Braun owned properties, they left him there; bleeding from his lip and gasping for breath from having the wind knocked out of him.

It took him a few minutes to struggle to his feet, at which time he glared back at the door the two goons had disappeared through. He was tempted to charge back in there and show them a thing or two... then he recalled the strength of the two brutes and decided to heed their warning. He wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve and trudged back to his truck, pouting at the injustice of these crooked gaming establishments when his luck changed.

He saw two black SUV's parked side by side and gave them a passing glance, recognizing them as unmarked police vehicles. He glanced around nervously, wondering if they were there for him. When he didn't see any cops converging on him to arrest him; he looked back to the two black vehicles and glimpsed the sticker on door which caught his attention. Las Vegas Metro Crime Lab Unit. That was the lab Sara worked for! Just when he thought his luck couldn't get any worse, he'd found a light at the end of the tunnel. He hurried back to his truck and pulled out as if leaving... unfortunately for the lazy security monitor inside the Casino's control room, they thought so too and quit following his progress as it appeared he was heading for the exit.

Instead, Nash repositioned his truck one aisle over from where the two Lab vehicles were parked. He sat inside his truck, using the rear view mirror to watch the vehicles behind him. If he were patient, he would be able to see who came back to the SUV's. Then maybe he could follow them back to their lab and wait until he caught a glimpse of his girl, Sara.


When Sara wakes again she feels cool a rag on her face and tender hands and once again thinks about Grissom... but for some reason she is afraid to speak his name. This fear confuses her because Grissom has always been her beacon of calm in an otherwise turbulent world for her. Being analytical by nature, Sara pretends to be unconscious as she tries to decipher her unmistakable feelings of fear; when she should be basking in the loving attention she is receiving. As she begins to get her bearings a voice softly speaks to her, causing the fearful feelings to stampede her heart rate.

"Come on, Sara. I know you're awake."

She recognizes voice and her mind is racing for a way out... was this a nightmare? No, she recalled vaguely waking twice before to find this was all painfully real. She is filled with fear, but opens eyes slowly to see Nash there beside her. He is smiling and happy, which scares her even more. He continues to wipe dried blood from her face with a damp cloth as her eyes dart around the room.

Still the same room, but now it is daylight again and she is confused. Her throat is sore and dry and she avoids making eye contact as she mumbles, "Where are we?"

"Don't you worry... this is only temporary. We'll be back home where we belong soon."

She knows he is talking about San Francisco and the thought of going back to the hell she lived through with him there is enough to make tears come to her eyes. He gently wipes them away, thinking she is happy to hear this news as he adds, "I know... Mother is anxious to see you too. We can't wait to have you back home again."

"What day is this? How long have I been here?" She tries to sound casual so she won't trigger his anger, but with him it is never a certainty what will set him off. She sees him tense as his anger flashes and he tries to control it by taking a deep breath, but then relaxes when she quickly covers to avoid another beating. "I...I just wanted to know how much time I've wasted sleeping when we could be together, Johnny... it... it's been so long."

Her ploy works and he smiles and returns to his tender administrations. "We've been here three days, love. But it won't be long and we'll be on our way home. Just need to take care of a few things first."

He doesn't mention that he's spent the last day and a half trying to access Sara's bank account using her debit card, ID and claiming to be her brother. Nothing has worked and he knows they need her money to get home since he all the money he stole from his mother and then that liquor store in Pahrump was taken from him by those cheating casinos.

"Don't you worry, Baby Doll... we just need to get you cleaned up a bit. Then we'll make a quick stop and be on our way. I promise."

Sara lies perfectly still, not even flinching as he rubs the rag across her sore face in his attempts to clean her up. His words cause her much more distress than his clumsy ministrations at the moment and she tries to figure out what he could possibly mean by making one quick stop before they leave. And where were they exactly? It was definitely a rundown motel of some sort, but Nevada was filled with those... especially around the Las Vegas area. Sara can offer up a silent prayer that Grissom and the gang at the lab are able to find her before Nash whisks her away to California. She tries one last ploy, since he was being so nice... for the moment.

"Johnny... can you please release my hands and feet so I can go to the restroom? I... I'm feeling sick..."

His hand stills on her cheek, his face giving away nothing as he stares down at her, trying to decide if this was a trick... or she really did feel sick again. Considering he'd found vomit on the floor from the two previous times she'd awakened, he decides she may be telling him the truth. He tosses the rag aside and then leans over to untie the bindings on her wrists. Sara lies perfectly still as he undoes the knot around her ankles as well and then sits back up.

She tries to move her arms, but at first they refuse to move. A few more tries makes her whimper in pain as her arms move for the first time in days. Her wrists and hands are completely numb, but she manages to drag her left arm forward until it flops down on the bed in front of her, useless to her. She tries to move her legs, having a bit more luck with this since she's been able to move them slightly within the confines of her restraints. Another groan of pain as she struggles to sit up has Nash moving to sit closer as he helps her into a sitting position.

"Easy, Baby Doll... you shouldn't have laid in the same position so long. Your arms are asleep. Let me help you." He begins a vigorous rubbing of her right arm, which causes Sara to grit her teeth to keep from crying out in pain.

Her head is spinning again at this new position, but the pain helps her to focus on regaining control of her body. More than anything, his repeated use of his pet name for her, Baby Doll, was causing her nausea... she always associated that word with pain and punishment from him. She now moves her legs slowly, trying to increase the blood flow to them so she can stand and make it to the bathroom before she once again vomits on the filthy, stained carpeting. Within a few minutes, she is able to feel her feet and make them do what she commands. Her hands however are a bit slower to recover from being deprived of blood for so long. She can move her arms, but her hands have barely any motion to them and her fingers are still completely numb.

She tries to smile at her tormentor, letting him know he can stop his rough massage of her upper arms. "Can you help me stand up? I'm still a bit woozy." Nash helps her up and then escorts her to the restroom. She stops just inside the door, not wanting him to actually come in with her and help her in taking care of her personal business. "I... I'm good now... thank you."

He gets the message and backs out, closing the door part way so he won't have to see her retching into the toilet stained brown by hard water and inadequate housekeeping services over the years. When she is alone, for the most part, she staggers to the sink basin and leans heavily against it for stability on her trembling legs. The mirror is cracked and her image is fragmented, but she still gasps in horror as she sees her reflection. Bruised, swollen and disfigured Sara hardly recognizes the image as her own.