Chapter Twelve:

Played For A Fool

Brass stepped forward. "Mrs. Matthews…could you repeat what you just said?"

"I turned off the machines. They were only keeping her heart going. Eliza…Lizzie died eight years ago."

"You don't know what you are saying," grumbled John Matthews.

"I talked with Gil…I told him the truth about Lizzie."

"Shut up," Matthews warned.

"I won't keep quiet any longer. He deserved to know the truth."

John Matthews slapped his wife hard across the face.

Grissom grabbed the old man and shoved him against the wall.

"Don't you ever touch her again!" Grissom threatened.

Warrick and Nick grabbed Grissom, gently pulling him back.

"Mrs. Matthews…are willing to write out a statement?" asked Brass.

"Yes."

John Matthews gawked at his wife. "Why? Why are you covering for him?"

"We should have turned off the machines years ago but instead you wanted to make Gil pay for her accident."

"Shut up!"

"John, you know…we should have turned off the machines…she was gone. There was nothing that was going to bring her back."

"I said shut up!"

"I waited until Gil left… then I returned to the room and turned off the machines. She's at peace now."

"Take Mrs. Matthews down the hall…call detective Vartann," instructed Brass to the officer.

John Matthews yelled at his wife. "I won't get you out of this! You can rot in prison," he yelled.

Grissom brushed off Catherine's attempts to hold him.

"Can I go now?" he asked angrily.

"Gil….I don't think it would be a good idea if you were alone right now," stated Brass.

"I…need to finally bury my wife. Emma will need an attorney. I'll see that she gets one," he replied.

"Can we do anything to help?" offered Catherine.

He shook his head, tuning out the condolences as he made his way out of the lab.

"You think we should call Sara?" asked Catherine.

"I've left messages," answered Brass.

He didn't expect them to come to the funeral but they came surrounding him as if to protect him from some unknown assailant.

Emma Matthews was permitted to attend the funeral.

She had been released on bail posted by Grissom.

John Matthews had later stepped up and provided an attorney.

He swiped at his eyes as he watched the casket lowered into the ground.

His eyes darted to the grave containing the baby he had buried years ago.

"Did you hear from Sara?" whispered Catherine.

"She just got the message last night," Brass said. "She can't come."

It was a lie.

She wouldn't come.

"Hey, kiddo. I've been leaving messages."

"Really? I didn't get them. I'll talk with Vincent to see…"

"Who is Vincent?"

"It's a long story. Is everything okay?"

"It's Grissom."

"What happened? Is he alright?" she asked anxiously.

"Emma Matthews was arrested for turning off the life support on Lizzie Grissom."

"Oh."

"Sara…I think he needs to see you."

"Jim, it's too soon. He needs to grieve…then…I'll schedule a visit."

"He's not been himself."

"He just lost his wife," reasoned Sara.

"He needs you."

"He knows how to reach me. Nick has given him my number."

"Maybe you could call him."

"I'll call in a few days."

Hey, Sara? Who is this Vincent guy?"

"We live together."

Brass had gotten another call and had to hang up.

He'd tried to reach her again but there was no answer and he didn't bother to leave a message this time.

There were several people at the funeral.

Grissom recognized a few who were friends of Lizzie's.

He paid close attention to a few of the men.

Some had been regulars in their home.

Lizzie was very popular with both sexes.

She dismissed all of them as friends from school.

One man in particular stared back.

Grissom made his way to the other side of the gravesite.

The man turned to leave but Grissom blocked him.

"You're…Jeff…right?" asked Grissom.

"Yes…I didn't think you remembered me," he said as he extended his hand and Grissom took it.

"I am sorry. Elizabeth was very special," he said as he started to leave.

"How long…were you sleeping with my wife?" Grissom asked boldly.

The man feigned shock but then relaxed. "I didn't think you knew."

"That my wife…slept around? Not until recent," admitted Grissom.

"Elizabeth and I…for about a year."

"Were you the one who received the hush money?"

The man chuckled. "Not me…try Jim Travers…but he's not here."

"You were fucking Lizzie while she was banging someone else?" asked Grissom.

"She was banging several others not just Travers. Travers was the only one stupid enough to threaten Elizabeth. Her old man took care of him. Look, it was just sex. When she got an itch she knew where to come…so did I."

"It didn't bother you that she was married?" Grissom seethed.

"It never bothered Elizabeth and by the way, she hated the nickname you gave her…Lizzie…said it sounded lowly."

Grissom shook his head as the man left.

His eyes locked with Emma Matthews who sat there in tears.

He wanted to believe she had lied about Lizzie.

It hurt to hear those damning words from someone else.

He cringed when he heard Catherine call his name.

"Gil, wait!"

She attempted to take him by the arm but he stepped back.

"We wanted to take you to dinner," she offered.

"Catherine…another time."

"Look, you shouldn't be alone."

"I'm not."

"So…you've got plans?"

He slipped on his sunglasses and headed toward his vehicle.

The others did the same.

He reached to turn the ignition but couldn't.

Jeff's words were damning.

The cars disappeared.

He had no idea why he was going back to the gravesite.

Perhaps, he needed to see the small gravestone next to Lizzie's.

He had not been back in a long time.

When the baby had died, he found himself returning every few days to tend to the live flowers or make sure the headstone had been properly placed.

He had chosen a beautiful headstone.

He also purchased a bench to sit across from the grave so he could visit.

He had intended to visit more often but then he couldn't bear the loss and hid from it.

There was a lone figure that remained at the gravesite.

It was Emma.

He started to turn back but she turned and recognized him.

"I thought I was the only one left," she said through tears.

"I came…I thought to visit…Emily's grave," he managed to get out.

"Gil…I never apologized for…not ending this until now," she wept.

He didn't hate the woman.

Over the last few months he had come to welcome the few words that came from the woman's mouth as they passed in the hall at the Center.

Emma Matthews was a kind woman who had been bitterly wronged by her husband, John.

They had much in common.

Lizzie and John had been faithless in their marriages while he and Emma hadn't.

At least he hadn't until he had made love to Sara.

It seemed like a lifetime ago as he stood there not sure whether he should stay or not.

"Emma…I don't…blame you. She was your daughter. You loved her….despite how she was."

"I feel like I failed her in so many ways. Perhaps if I had left John when she was a small child she would have been different…she would have understood…that…his actions were wrong. She saw too much…she figured out his infidelity but I never said anything. I put blinders on and never told her it was wrong…until she began the affairs while engaged to you."

She took a ragged breath. "What… do you plan to do now?"

He looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"You were….you're still in love with this woman named Sara. Do you plan…to go to her?"

He shook his head. "She's gone…she moved on."

"I find that hard to believe. I saw the way she looked at you…the way she worried when you were ill. It concerned me…but then I realized…you deserved to be happy….not tied to…Lizzie….like I am tied to John."

"You could have left him," he said without thinking.

She laughed pitifully. "Yes, I supposed I could have but the heart does such cruel things some times. I could never bring myself to leave him. I loved him…even though I was never enough….even though he did what he did. I could never give myself to anyone but him. It's sad…isn't it? You and I? No more," she breathed.

She turned to Grissom.

"Don't linger here," she said pointing to the graves. "You need to live. You need to find that family you deserve. It's not here, Gil. It never was. It's out there…you just have to go out and get it. Something good has to come of all of this."

He was shocked when she hugged him.

His arms embraced her, feeling a slight shudder from both of them as they stepped back.

She glanced one last time at the grave and then hurried away.

He did the same, hurrying to his car, driving rather fast out of the cemetery.

Brass scowled when he showed up for work that evening.

Little was said to him as he handed out assignments.

"Hey, Griss. We could handle things here if you want to go home," offered Nick.

"When she got an itch she knew where to come…so did I."

Grissom ignored the comment.

He chose a solo assignment for himself, grateful to be away from the team's watchful eyes.

They expected him to grieve.

He had no intentions of wasting another tear on Lizzie Grissom.

He cursed inwardly when he swiped his eyes for the third time.

He kicked his field kit, sending red creeper dust into the air.

You bitch!

Every night I was busting my ass to pay the mortgage...

You were humping some other guy…

In our bed…

And then…slept with me…

He was disgusted.

Why didn't I see it?

The men…they were there…

I believed her lies!

I trusted her…

She told me they were friends and I accepted it…

How could I have been such a fool?

The condolences continued.

Hodges was the worst, coming to him each time he was seen in the hall, asking how he was doing.

How was he supposed to feel?

He'd been in love with a whore for the past ten years, sitting by her side, keeping his distance from Sara.

Sara…

He cursed inwardly.

She had moved on, taken on a new career and never looked back.

She had not even bothered to call.

He was sure that she would have heard about Lizzie's death.

She left because of Lizzie.

Each time he trudged home, he expected a phone message but there was none.

She's just like Lizzie…

I probably wasn't good enough for her either…

She looked quite happy in the photos…

His odd behavior was a concern for Brass remembering all too well burying himself in a bottle after the death of his marriage.

While his wife was still very much alive, the divorce was like a death.

He mourned by drinking.

He had no intentions of standing by and letting his friend fall into the same trap.

He became suspicious when Grissom would leave the lab during a difficult case, disappearing for a few hours.

While his breath or manner never indicated he had been drinking it piqued Brass's curiosity.

He followed him one night, noticing him throwing a file on his desk.

It had been a difficult case in which the husband had killed his wife in a fit of rage after being caught with another man.

He kept a distance as he followed Grissom, not sure he should proceed when he turned into the cemetery.

Quietly he approached the familiar gravesite.

Grissom sat on the bench.

Brass stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of Grissom's voice.

"This man killed his wife, Lizzie because he caught her with another man. What do you think I would have done?" he spat. "You lying bitch!"

The sound of twigs snapping caused Grissom to jerk around.

"Sorry…didn't mean to interfere," he said.

"What the hell are you doing here?" yelled Grissom.

"Look I know you think we're sticking our noses in your private life…but I am. I know what it's like to lose….a family and then…"

"You got a divorce…your daughter is alive," muttered Grissom.

"It was still a death…of everything I ever wanted…gone."

"You have Ellie."

"I have someone who hates me….because I'm not her real father."

Grissom looked surprised.

"You're not the only one who had a wife that slept around. Neither of us knew whether I was the father of Ellie or not. I learned not to care. Ellie still needed a father and I needed something good to come out of the hell I was living in."

Grissom nodded, understanding.

Brass sat down beside him.

"Gil, if this is helping….then yell….just don't let it consume you."

Grissom gripped the bench seat. "Did you ever catch your wife…in the act?"

"Yes, I did. The problem is that he was a decent guy and I actually felt sorry for him. He had no idea what he was getting into…hell he didn't even know she was married."

"I try to imagine what I would have done…if I had," breathed Grissom.

"You would have forgiven her…the first time. You would have stayed married if she were pregnant. You would have ignored the second time for the sake of the child."

He headed back to his vehicle not liking Jim's admission.

He told himself he would not be that weak.

"Hey Gil?" Brass called.

He turned and looked at Brass. "What do you imagine yourself doing?"

"Forty years to life."

It shocked Brass but he knew it was the grief and pain that was talking.

"I came because…I thought you might do something stupid…like I did."

"What was that?" asked Grissom.

"I tried to hide in a bottle."

Brass let him go, not sure if he felt better about the circumstances.

Days passed and his disposition worsened.

Catherine insisted they speak with him away from the lab.

Grissom unscrewed the lid from a beer and drank it as he fumbled through the motions of getting something to eat.

There was a tap on his door but he tried to ignore it.

He knew it would probably be Catherine or Brass.

They would not leave him alone.

The tapping turned into banging.

He opened his door and sighed.

"Can we come in?" asked Catherine.

"I'd like to get some sleep."

"Since you have the beer in your hand, I'll take that as a yes," sneered Brass.

Catherine picked up a few things in the living room.

"Catherine, don't you have a house to clean somewhere else? I have a maid to do that," he griped.

"Conrad wanted us to talk with you," began Catherine.

"Could you talk quickly?" he asked as he returned to the kitchen, tossing the empty beer bottle into the trash.

"Okay. You've cut half the staff to shreds…you berate whomever gets in your way…for no reason mind you and you've not taken a single bereavement day which you're entitled to take," stated Brass.

"Over the past several months I've let things slide…I'm not anymore. I don't need time off."

"Gil, your wife…just died," soothed Catherine trying to touch his arm.

"Don't touch me! Why are always trying to touch me? I don't need your sympathy!"

Grissom emptied another beer bottle then shattered it against the kitchen wall.

He passed them on his way to the bedroom slamming the door behind him.

"Jim, any luck with getting in touch with Sara?" asked Catherine.

"She wanted him to grieve first."

"He's going to self-destruct before he grieves. Have you told her about him?"

"It's complicated," Brass breathed.

Note from author:

I know. You want to know more about Sara. It's coming.

Take care!