Chapter Thirty Six:
Coming to Grips
She knew he was working a double when she rolled over and he was missing from her bed.
She glanced at the clock, frowning that she had slept so late.
Quietly she slipped into Caleb's room.
His head bobbed up.
"Momma," he smiled.
"Good morning, Caleb," she said as she leaned over and kissed him.
"Dada?"
"Dada is working," she explained.
He frowned, looking very much Grissomish and she could not help but grin at his expression.
"You look so much like your Dada," she whispered.
"Miss Dada," he pouted.
"Momma can play," she offered.
"Dada…bugs," he grinned.
Sara frowned. "We'll play another game."
She hummed softly as Caleb finished breakfast while she put away the dishes.
The radio was set to their favorite oldies station in Vegas.
She half heard the announcement of a gas explosion, wondering if there were casualties, causing Grissom to be further delayed.
"Would you like to go to the park?" she asked.
"Swing," he laughed.
Her phone rang and she grinned, knowing that it would be Grissom.
She was not prepared to hear Jim's voice.
"Hey kiddo."
"Hey, Jim. Grissom isn't here. He must be tied up on a case."
"I know," he hesitated. "Listen, don't panic…there was a gas explosion downtown…Gil and Nick were working a case and…"
"Are they alright?" she asked anxiously.
"Just a few minor cuts…nothing serious but…the crime scene is a mess. He wanted me to call you just in case you heard it on the news."
"Why didn't he call?" she asked suspiciously.
"He will…when he can," stuttered Brass.
"Jim…should I be concerned?" she asked.
"Sara, he's fine…really."
Right…
She was on her way to the lab within minutes, leaving Caleb with Sandra.
She told herself not to panic but she needed to see him, to soothe the knots in her stomach.
She got to the front desk, waving at Judy, intent to walk to his office.
"Sara…wait!" called Judy.
Sara tried to hide the anger from being detained but she knew it was lab policy that non personnel had to be escorted throughout the building.
She had hoped she would be able to rush past Judy once more and find out for herself that Grissom was fine.
She needed for him to be fine, not liking how her hands shook or the way Mikayla swirled from side to side as if she too were in a panic.
She caressed her abdomen, trying to calm her worries.
"Judy, I need to see Grissom," she finally got out.
"So would I," said Conrad Ecklie from behind.
Sara turned, coming face to face with Ecklie.
"Jim called me…told me there was an explosion," she explained.
"Grissom is not here…yet. I have a few questions about what happened," he grumbled.
He eyed Sara up and down.
She felt self conscious standing there under his scrutiny.
"You can…wait in his office. I'll escort you…I need to find some reports that are due," he huffed.
She appreciated the gesture but didn't think she could stomach waiting with Ecklie until Grissom returned.
She stepped into Grissom's office and took a seat on the couch, still feeling a bit shaky.
Ecklie glanced in her direction as he rifled through the papers on Grissom's desk.
"Does he have a system to this madness?" griped Ecklie.
Sara said nothing.
Ecklie finally located the reports.
"Jim is supposed to be heading back. He's got some explaining to do," said Ecklie.
"Explaining?" she questioned.
"No one ran anything through me about a couple of murders that happened in San Francisco," he said sifting through the reports. "I don't like getting put on the spot…not knowing what's going on…in my own lab."
She felt uneasy, wondering if Grissom had been utilizing the lab's resources in order to track Vincent Andrews.
This lab is yours only in title…
Nothing more…
Sara bit her lower lip to keep from responding.
She sat back as if to make herself disappear, not wanting to encourage the man to keep talking with her.
The door opened and Brass rushed in.
"Conrad….when did this Vincent fellow contact you?" asked Brass, oblivious to Sara.
"Andrews stated he was with the crime lab in San Francisco….look I don't see why this is so damn important!" griped Ecklie.
"Could you tell me…what he said…word for word?" urged Brass.
"He wanted to speak with Grissom. He said he wanted to discuss a case…" Ecklie glanced at Sara, noticing the way she suddenly came to her feet.
Brass cursed under his breath, now realizing Sara had overheard the conversation.
"Vincent Andrews…is trying to contact…Grissom?" she asked.
"Sara….yes," admitted Brass.
"Look, I didn't know he wasn't with the San Francisco crime lab anymore. Besides, I didn't give out any information that…"
"Of course," interrupted Brass, wanting Ecklie to stop talking.
Sara eyes bore a hole through Brass, making his sweat.
"Look, I'm the director. If Grissom is working on a case that involved a double homicide in San Francisco then I want a report on my desk by this evening," Ecklie barked.
"Double homicide?" asked Sara.
Brass felt trapped between the two.
"Thornton case?" asked Sara.
"Yes. How do you know?" asked Ecklie.
"Bill…Thornton?" she clarified.
Ecklie handed her the file before Brass could intercept it.
Her eyes took in the viciousness of the murders.
Her mind read the note over and over.
Vincent did this…
"Do know anything about this?" asked Ecklie.
She nodded.
Brass groaned.
She visibly shook, nodding as her eyes continued to look at the blood soaked bodies.
It was Ecklie who caught her when her legs threatened to give way.
"Christ!" he muttered as he gently held her.
Sara held on tight to his arm, gripping it as if she feared she would faint.
"Sara…let's sit back down," Ecklie said softly.
Ecklie glanced at Brass as if to silently plead for him to get Grissom.
"Doc is with Grissom," whispered Brass.
"Doc? Was he hurt?" she asked quickly.
"Sara, he's fine. He and Nick went to the hospital…just procedure," Brass emphasized.
"But you know Doc; he wanted to see for himself."
"Right," she muttered, knowing there was more than Brass was telling her.
He looked downright guilty.
Sara glanced at Ecklie. "Is Grissom alright?"
He looked a bit unsettled. "He and Nick have a few cuts and abrasions….he needed a few stitches."
Sara glared at Brass.
"Sara…what do you know about…those murders as well as Vincent Andrews?" asked Ecklie.
"Look, I think she's been through enough…the photos…the knowledge that Grissom was hurt…not to mention she almost fainted…"
"I did not," she huffed.
Ecklie actually turned his head and grinned. "No, you didn't. You just like…falling into my arms."
The comment made Brass smirk, knowing how much Sara detested Ecklie.
Sara looked completely embarrassed.
"Jim, go find Grissom while Sara and I talk."
"But…"
"She's fine with me," ordered Ecklie.
He waited until the door shut before sitting down across from Sara.
He picked up the folder that had fallen to the floor, the pictures sprawled out.
She couldn't keep her eyes from them.
"Sara?"
Her voice was soft, almost too soft as she began to explain the past two years.
Ecklie listened intently.
She forced herself into work mode, divulging everything, withholding nothing.
Ecklie quickly shut the folder, concealing the photos.
By the time they heard footsteps outside the door, she had finished.
Her eyes locked with Ecklie.
"I think I owe you an apology," he said.
"Apology?" she asked.
Their conversation was interrupted as Grissom burst through the door.
She was relieved to see him but rose quickly when she saw his bloodied shirt.
His eyes followed hers. "It looks worse than it really is," he began.
Sara quickly vacated the couch only to be dragged back down by Grissom.
Doc hurried inside, concerned for Sara as Brass had relayed her reaction to seeing the photos.
Grissom ignored the others as he quickly grabbed her hand. "Are you okay?" he asked quickly.
She nodded but then added, "But…you're not."
He recognized the tone.
"Sara…"
She slapped his hand away, not caring that the others saw the interaction.
"Don't send Jim to cover your ass."
Grissom opened his mouth but then shut it.
"Are you supposed to be …in the hospital?"
He fidgeted.
She glanced at Doc. "Jim is already on my shit list…do you want to be added to it?"
"He refused to stay at the hospital," announced Doc.
Grissom glared at Doc.
She examined the stitches on his forehead, counting ten.
There was a deep gash on his arm and she was tempted to pull up his shirt to inspect every inch of him but thought better of it as Brass coughed nervously.
"He's probably got a whopper of a headache so…be nice to him, Sara," instructed Doc.
"Is it okay…that he go home or should I drive him back to the hospital?" she asked, still glaring at Grissom as if to warn him to keep quiet.
"Yes," replied Doc.
"Are we finished?" asked Sara to Ecklie.
"Yes and so is he," ordered Ecklie.
She started to rise but Grissom hand snaked out to steady her.
"I'm fine….but you're not," she spat once more.
Brass mouthed "Dog house" to Grissom as soon as Sara turned her back.
Once they were out of sight, Ecklie shut the office door.
"Keep me in the loop on this Vincent Andrews fellow. I expect you to keep him under your radar," stated Ecklie as he gathered the reports.
"Uh…yes, I will."
"You might want to have an unmarked patrol car frequent Grissom's neighborhood for awhile," he added as Ecklie opened the office door.
Brass looked surprised.
"This is just between us, right?" questioned Ecklie.
"Of course," replied Brass.
"Good."
Brass stared at the empty office.
"What the hell happened while I was gone?" he muttered.
Not a word was spoken on the way home.
Once they were inside, Grissom went straight to the master bedroom, needing a hot shower to remove the grime and the stench of blood.
He showered then eased himself onto the bed.
"How's…your head?" she whispered.
"Hurts," he mumbled.
She handed him some pills and he took them, grateful for any relief.
Her hands sifted through his hair.
"Sara…"
"I told Ecklie…everything," she whispered.
"I'm sorry. I had wanted to…protect you from…"
"Vincent…called him…wanted to speak with you."
"He didn't want to talk with me. He's just wanted me to know that he's not given up...on you," replied Grissom.
She shivered, not liking that she felt so weak.
Grissom grabbed her hand. "Are you alright?"
She nodded, letting her eyes drift up to meet his.
"I saw the photos," she breathed.
"I didn't want you to see them," he grieved.
"Why not? He got what he deserved…he was a despicable man…"
"You've seen enough violence," he sighed.
His hand reached out to touch her abdomen.
She tried to move away but his movement caused him to wince from the pain so she remained still, letting his hand caress her abdomen.
"Are you sure…you're alright?" he whispered. "Sara…you're trembling."
"Vincent…killed them. I'm sure of it. Now, he's...he may come after you," she whispered.
"Vincent didn't have anything to do with the explosion. It was just a coincidence," he assured her.
"He….was so violent…toward…the Thorntons."
"He was vindicating you…in his own sick way," breathed Grissom.
"Gil…he will come after you. We're living together and…"
He caressed her arm. "I'm taking precautions…like tonight, Nick came with me."
"So…you think he is going to try to…"
"No, I don't but we just need to be safe…just as you do."
She nodded.
"Sara…what is it?"
She shook her head, not wanting to talk.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
"God, Grissom, how will Mikayla react when she finds out about her real father?"
"She won't!"
"You don't know that!"
He let her calm down.
"No, I guess I don't. I do know that if she ever finds out…then she will remember how much we love her….and it won't matter, Sara. She will know…that I'm her father…not him."
He pulled her fully into the bed until she was lying beside him.
"Mikayla…will be a bright young lady…smart and beautiful and gentle…like you," he whispered.
He returned to work a few days later.
The crime scene had been released, nothing indicating the explosion was anything but an accident.
There certainly was nothing to indicate Vincent had anything to do with it but Brass still checked and rechecked, not finding Vincent anywhere in the area.
They surmised it been a coincidence that Vincent had called on the same day of the explosion.
Grissom seemed a bit unsettled, checking the alarm system, alerting Sandra to keep an eye out for strangers…just in case.
Even Sara seemed to sense the importance of safety, not venturing out at dusk.
Days passed without incident but this would soon change.
Note from author:
Yeah….that last line. I'm tired. Too much work over the weekend. I am ready for the week…but then there is only more work. Yuck!
Take care!