They lay in his bed side by side, facing each other. For an hour she had sobbed and he'd held her trembling body. It was all he could do to not break down and cry right along with her. She'd still not said a word about this baby that she'd lost and he was dreading hearing what had happened. And then she'd begun her story with gut-wrenching detail, breaking his heart once again.
"I had a son." She began slowly. "His name was A.J.----and he was the most beautiful boy----" She looked at him, her lips trembling. "He had the most wonderful brown hair and eyes—and he was so smart----" She trailed off, not wanting to say more, but knowing that she had to let Nick in sooner or later.
"It's okay darlin. Take your time." He took her hand and held it to his lips. "You don't have to say anything until you're ready."
"Danny—that's his father—and I worked together at the Crime Lab in New York. We were together ever since high school so when I got pregnant with A.J. we were happy even though we were young. Our parents were excited."
"And what about Danny? Where is he now? Do you still talk to him?"
"He's still at the lab as far as I know." She answered dully. "I haven't talked to him since I drove to Vegas. It's...it's too painful for both of us. My sister always told me that..."
It struck Nick as odd that she would have a sister, yet she had never mentioned one...or any other family for that matter. "You have a sister?"
"Her name is Tracey. She's...she was...my best friend." She said softly. "When I left New York I couldn't face anyone...and I haven't talked to anyone in my family for a long time."
That he couldn't understand. Nick came from a very large, very close family and he couldn't imagine not speaking to his sisters or his parents. "How long has it been?"
"Since I moved here." She confessed. "It's too hard. I don't want to remember and every time I spoke to anyone from my family all they wanted to talk about was A.J. I couldn't handle it. I ran away because I couldn't handle what had happened to my son. I was a coward and I didn't want to deal with anyone or anything."
"He died, didn't he?" Nick whispered achingly, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He could only imagine the loss that Jamey had felt. He thought back to Lindsay's funeral, remembering how she'd shut down, and realized that she must have been reliving her son's death. "Can you tell me how?"
She shook her head. "I...I...don't talk about this with anyone, Nick. I haven't talked about this for so long...I don't know if I can tell you."
"How old was he? Can you tell me that much?"
She stumbled over her words. "He was three. He died on his third birthday..." She started to cry again, burying her head under his chin. "I can't talk about this anymore, Nick. I'm sorry."
"Whenever you're ready." He said softly. "I'm here for you."
"I know you are." She'd replied. "Thank you for being here."
"There's no where else I'd be." He answered honestly.
Meanwhile...
Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders were at the lab in the break room. She was eating an apple as she flipped through photographs that had been dropped off by the P.D earlier that morning and he was brewing a pot of his famous blue Hawaiian coffee. The two had become close in the past week or so and both had decided that it was best to keep their new relationship a secret, at least until things had gotten back to normal. Neither one of them were particularly good at relationships, but both knew that it was well worth their time to go slowly and see where life took them.
"Where do you think she came from?" Sara asked as she continued to peruse the photos of a young girl, whom she guessed, was in her mid to late twenties—but there was something about this girl that made her uneasy. She was sure that she had seen her before—but where? Brass thought that she was a call-girl and given the area that her body had been found–in the well known red-light district-- it made sense. As of late, Las Vegas was encountering a problem with murdered prostitutes—but Sara wasn't sure that this girl fit the bill.
She winced as she noted the purple bruises that covered most of the girls torso and again as she looked at the deep gashes on the forehead and cheeks that were obviously made with a sharp object. "Whoever killed her certainly didn't like her. She bled out pretty heavily."
Greg lopped over and sat down across from her and grabbed one of the blown up pictures. "I dunno...she couldof come from anywhere I suppose." He pushed his chair back at the sound of the coffee machine beeping and walked over to the counter and poured both of them a cup. "Why do you think she's not from Vegas?"
It was hard to say but Sara had a feeling that this girl wasn't from the Nevada area. She struggled to remember where she had seen this girl before–and completely failed. "She's different...I can't seem to place her but we've definitely seen her before Greg. "
He brought her a cup of steaming brew and placed it in front of her before sitting down again and picking up another one of the pictures. "She's pretty dressed up, wouldn't you say?" He pointed to the silk pantsuit that the girl wore. "This kinda stuff ain't cheep."
Sara frowned. "Yes—it's like she's too...pure to be from around here. She doesn't have the look that most of the girls we find would have...she's too...I don't know...dainty?"
"She looks like one of those beauty pagent girls to me." He commented, tapping his finger against the photo. "Her hair is really healthy and..." he pointed to her long manicured finger nails. "those nails are pretty much perfect...or they were until she broke some of them off , probably fighting her attacker."
Sara looked at him blandly. "How is it that you know so much about women and nails and hair and stuff?" She had never realized exactly how much Greg actually knew about women and was now wondering if she'd misjudged his geeky exterior.
He grinned. 'I dated Ms. Ohio for a while in college." He answered, pleased at the look on her face. Jealousy from Ms. Sidle was something that he'd never seen before..but he had to admit that he almost liked it; It showed him that she really did care about him. "Those girls have to be made up all the time and believe me..."He held up his right hand. "it takes a while to get all that make up on and the hair done right and the nails–but when it's all said and done the end result is magnificent..."
Not wanting to hear any more details, she interrupted hastily. "You dated Ms. Ohio?" She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from commenting any further. He dated a woman who was practically a model for frig sakes, she thought bitterly. How would she ever compete with that?
"Through most of my last year in University. Her name was Caroline Bingham and she..."
"There's just something that's bothering me about this girl..." Sara cut him off, giving him a pointed look. "She has a different look about her..." She trailed off, trying to put into words what she felt inside.
"She looks like that lab tech...what's her name..." He snapped his fingers. "Jodie from Trace...the new girl."
"No Greg–" Sara corrected–finally realizing what had been bothering her all along about their Jane Doe. "She looks like Jamey."
Greg frowned and did a double take. The dead girls face bore a striking resemblance to their colleague. The dark hair and high cheek bones, button nose and tiny mouth was almost a duplicate of Jamey Kent's. Once the resemblance was said out loud it was impossible not to notice how much they looked alike.
"Oh damn..." He whistled and drew in a deep breath. "You're right...it could be her twin..." He consulted the notes on the table. "What color are her eyes?" He asked, when he couldn't find the answer.
Sara looked down, and after shuffling through a neat stack, handed him the sheet.
"Blue." He mumbled. "Sar, this girl has to be related to Jamey. I think we better talk to Grissom."