Shadow Play
Chapter 29
A/N: Before we start, I want to thank you all for your patience and understanding over the past six weeks. I know I said I was only taking a short break from the story but it's taken a lot longer than I expected to deal with everything and, of course, come to terms with what's happened.
I especially want to thank everyone who sent messages after my last posting; I really should have replied to them individually but, to be honest, they completely overwhelmed me. Your sympathy and offers of support really blew me away and I want you all to know that I appreciate them and you more than I can possibly express here.
As the door she'd spent the past ten minutes staring at finally swung open, Sara felt the hand she held tense automatically and only slacken off again as David Phillips stepped into the corridor, his face breaking into an awkward smile as he gestured back over his shoulder.
"Dr. Robbins said to tell you that he won't be too much longer." Suddenly unsure of himself, the coroner's assistant looked from one person to the other before deciding to address himself to Sara. "He said he'd be out to speak to you in five minutes or so."
"Thank you, David." Grateful for the update, Sara returned the smile and watched as he disappeared back into the autopsy suite before turning her attention to the youngest of the three men who lounged against the wall just feet from her chair. "How long have they been in there now?"
"About twenty minutes." Greg checked his watch before glancing quickly at Warrick for confirmation. "We'd only just got back here when Harris and Galetti arrived and disappeared inside with Doc Robbins; they said they wanted to view the bo-" He broke off suddenly, his eyes swinging towards Brass but the thousand yard stare the homicide captain was currently exhibiting convinced him that his almost-faux pas had slipped by unnoticed. Embarrassed nonetheless, Greg blushed as his gaze returned to Sara. "You know."
"Yeah." Sara smiled gently, aware of her colleague's unease and, hoping to give him a chance to recompose himself, she nodded towards the small break room at the end of the corridor. "How about grabbing us all some coffee, Greg? It looks like we might be here for a while."
"Sure, I can do that." His eyebrows rose in question as he looked over at his other two coworkers. "One of you guys want to help me?"
"I got it." Pushing himself off the wall, Nick sighed wearily. "I could do with a break anyway." Squatting down in front of the two occupied seats, Nick ensured he was directly in Brass' line of sight. "How about you, Jim? You want a coffee?"
"Um..." It took Brass a second to snap back from his reverie. "No thanks, Nick; I'm fine."
"You sure?" Looking up into the detective's tightly drawn face, Nick frowned in concern. "We could make it a cold drink if you'd like; how about some water?"
"Uh-uh." Brass' head moved back and forth as he, once again, rejected the offer. "Unless, of course, Al's got a bottle of single malt stashed away down here." He looked up for the first time, his eyes dry but red rimmed. "I could do with a belt right about now."
"I'm not sure about Doc Robbins but I do know that Griss has a bottle hidden away in his filing cabinet." Warrick chimed in. "I could always run upstairs for you if you like."
"Thanks for the offer, Rick." Switching his attention from one CSI to the other, Jim managed a small smile of gratitude. "But I think I can wait." He sighed deeply as his gaze dropped to the stark white floor. "The least I can do for Ellie now is try and stay sober."
Offering Jim a comforting pat on the knee, Nick pushed to his feet and glanced towards Sara as he nodded down the hall. "We'll be back in a couple of minutes."
Watching the two men wander down the corridor, Sara tightened her hold on Brass' hand as she thought back over his reply; it was, by far, the longest conversation he'd taken part in since their arrival at the morgue and, although she completely understood his desire to lose himself in a bottle, she was pleased that he'd restrained himself for now; there's be time enough for that once the formalities had been taken care of.
The sound of the building's outer door opening pulled her back from to the present and, turning in it's direction, Sara watched as Conrad Ecklie, cell phone clamped tightly to one ear, held the heavy access way ajar before stepping back out of the way to allow his two traveling companions entrance in from the decidedly chilly Las Vegas night.
"Grissom's here, Jim." Leaning in, Sara kept her voice low as she gently untangled his fingers from her own. "I'll just be a minute." She glanced over at Warrick as she got to her feet. "Sit with him, okay? I won't be long."
Without waiting for a reply, she quickly made her way down the corridor, the frown on her face deepening with every step she took.
Standing awkwardly in the middle of the hallway, Grissom was obviously in pain; his face was ashen and, as she neared, Sara could clearly make out the sheen of perspiration that covered his usually well-tanned visage. Drawing closer still, she could see the iron-like grip Catherine had on his arm as well as the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to get his breathing back under control.
"What do you think you're doing here?" Part exasperation, part concern, the statement made for a very blunt welcome and even Sara herself winced at the way it came out. Coming to a halt in front of the trio, she made a conscious effort to soften her tone as she stared into her lover's eyes. "You're supposed to be resting at home."
"I had to come." With his breathing easing slightly, Grissom nodded over her shoulder towards the two men further down the hall. "How's he doing?"
"About what you'd expect." Turning slightly, Sara shrugged. "He insisted on coming down too but he hasn't said much since we got here"
"You went along for the notification?"
"Yeah, Vega thought it might be a good idea." Turning back again, Sara shook her head. "I'm not sure whether it helped or not; I've been present for hundreds of those things but, this time..." She sighed. "... I didn't know what to say."
Knowing from past experience just how impotent she was feeling at that moment, Grissom tried to placate her. "You were there; that's the main thing."
"Um..." Snapping his cell phone closed, Ecklie quickly slipped it into his jacket. "I've got to head over to PD for a while; Burdick's putting together a statement he wants to release to the media in the morning and, apparently, he can't do it without my input."
"That's okay, Conrad; we'll take it from here." Catherine assured him with a smile. "Thanks for the ride in."
"No problem." Fishing his car keys from his pocket, Ecklie jingled them impatiently in his hand. "If there's anything you need, Gil, just give me call and I meant what I said about that dog of yours too; if you need him exercised, let me know, I'm only a couple of blocks away, after all."
"I will, Conrad." With his eyes fixed firmly on the woman before him, Grissom didn't bother to look up. "Thanks for everything."
"He offered to walk Hank for us?" As the door swung shut behind the departing man, Sara chuckled in disbelief. "You know, I'm almost tempted to take him up on it but the thought of Conrad Ecklie turning up at our door dressed in a pair of skin-tight bike shorts is just a little too disturb-" Turning back, she sobered quickly. "God, you're so pale." As Catherine finally released her hold on his Grissom, Sara attempted to take charge of the situation. "Come on, you need to sit down."
"In a minute." Stepping in as close as his arm would allow, he leaned forward until his forehead met hers and let out a slow breath. "Just... just give me a minute, okay?"
Sara's arms came up automatically, one hand on either side of his face as she stared back into frightened, pain-filled eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"I thought it was you." Shuddering slightly, Grissom closed his eyes as he remembered the sudden rush of fear and terror that had gripped him earlier at the apartment. "When I opened that door and saw them standing there..."
"We really should have called before we arrived." Catherine commented as she placed a comforting hand on her friend's back. "Fresh out of the hospital and we nearly gave him a heart attack turning up the way we did."
I'm okay, you know; I'm perfectly fine." Dropping her hand, Sara caught hold of his and squeezed tight. "And so are you or, at least you will be as soon as I can get you to sit down."
Slipping her arm around his waist, she urged him forward and, with Catherine bringing up the rear, the threesome slowly made their way back to the impromptu seating area.
From his position beside Brass, Warrick allowed himself a small, knowing smile as he witnessed the unabashed intimacy between his two colleagues. He'd been harboring suspicions about them for months now; suspicions that had strengthened with Sara's behavior in the garage on the night of Grissom's attack and now, here in the hallway of the city morgue, he'd been proven right. Shaking his head at the absurd appropriateness of the situation, he pushed to his feet and gestured towards the newly-vacated chair.
"There you go, Griss; you look like you need a seat more than I do."
"Thanks Warrick." With Sara providing a supporting hand, Grissom eased himself down onto the chair. "Ecklie's not exactly the smoothest of drivers and, having just braced myself through every pothole and speed bump that Vegas has to offer, I'll be glad to sit on something that doesn't move."
"You want anything?" Sara asked, her hand resting protectively on Grissom's shoulder. "Nick and Greg are just in the break room; it'll only take a minute to-"
"No, I'm fine." He cut her off with a smile before turning to the silent man beside him. "I'm sorry, Jim."
"Don't be." With his head down, Brass's voice was little more than a whisper. "It's not like I haven't been expecting it." Looking up, he ignored the people around him to stare at the unmoving autopsy room door. "I've been waiting for that knock on my door for years now; it was never a matter of 'if', only 'when'."
"Oh, Jim." Catherine was quickly at his side, squatting down beside him to take his hand in hers but he shook off the proffered sympathy.
"The only thing that does surprise me is that it doesn't hurt like I thought it would." Finally making eye contact, he stared at Grissom. "We meet people that have just lost their kids every day of the week and I always assumed that they must feel like their heart's just been ripped out of their chests but all I feel is..." He blinked twice as he tried to put the unimaginable into words before giving up with a weary sigh. "I just feel numb."
"That's natural, Jim; its shock, that's all." Reaching across, Grissom laid a comforting hand on the grieving man's arm. "You'll feel it, buddy; trust me, it'll come."
Brass accepted the words with a shrug. "Well, whatever it is, I guess she had a pretty good excuse for not turning up tonight, huh?"
"What do you mean?" Looking from one man to the other, Catherine frowned in confusion. "Turning up where?"
"Ellie called me tonight." With a wince of discomfort, Grissom eased back in his seat. "She wanted to meet."
"Ellie wanted to meet with you?" Dumbstruck, all Catherine could do was stare in amazement. "Tonight?"
"Yes, apparently she's been hanging around waiting for a chance to get me on my own." Turning his head, Grissom looked up at Sara. "She called just after you'd left for work."
"Why would she do that?" Sara shook her head, mystified by the unexpected turn of events.
"To start with, she wanted money." Grissom explained. "And when I refused to give her any she told me she saw who it was that attacked me the other night."
"And you believed her?" Realizing the implications of what she'd just said Catherine turned towards Brass with a mortified stare. "Oh God, Jim; I'm so sorry."
"It's okay; I had the same reaction." He managed a watery smile. "After all, we all know what my daughter is-" He caught himself and sighed. "...was like."
"So, you went out to meet her?" Anger growing by the minute, Sara turned on Grissom. "Why the hell didn't you call me?"
"Because I didn't think it was necessary." Raising his good hand in supplication, Grissom tried to explain his actions. "She told me she had information she was willing to give me." Seeing the disbelieving look Sara shot him, he reluctantly changed his wording. "Okay, sell me and so I arranged to meet her somewhere nice and neutral only she never turned up. I guess we know why."
"Where?" Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Sara sighed. "Where did you go to meet her?"
"The Palace Station Casino." Knowing what was coming next, Grissom held his breath.
"The Palace Station?" Catherine almost spat the words out. "But that's just a few blocks away from where she was found."
"Yes Cath." He sighed in resignation. "I am aware of that; after all, I did spend half the night waiting for her there."
"That's good." Standing just feet away, the open autopsy room door directly behind him, Frank Harris couldn't keep the smug grin from his face as he looked from one surprised face to the other before finally coming to rest on Grissom. "Then, I guess, I won't have to explain to you why you're going to be spending the rest of the night locked up in an interview room with me."
TBC
