Journey Through the Past- Chapter 38
Barely a day and a half after his arrest in the desert of central Nevada, Lucas Mallory sat insolently in Interrogation Room 1, staring at Captain Jim Brass with undisguised hate.
"How long are you going to hold me here," asked Mallory with impatience.
"I'm not inclined to have you moved to another lock up facility at this point. There's information we want from you. Precisely, who helped escape from Folsom, where and who you have been in contact with in the last six months since your escape. I also want to know exactly what you used to experiment on Gil Grissom. What you gave him, the whole regiment. That would be for starters."
Mallory smiled, "You really think I'm going to tell you anything, especially about Grissom? Grissom came to me. Don't you remember? At the warehouse. Yeah, Grissom and I have a long history together. What do you really know about Dr. Gilbert Grissom? Hard for you to believe that he's a hard-core drug addict? What does your evidence tell you?"
Brass didn't give in to Mallory's goading. Instead, he stood up and walked around the table and stood behind the man. Patting Mallory on the shoulder, Brass said softly, "Stop the acting, Lucas. I know deep inside you're running scared. You're trapped. I mean, what did you do to piss off the Knights? They were gunnin' for you, man. The way I figure it, your best chance for survival past next week is to cooperate and give up what you know. Otherwise,…" Brass stopped, patting Mallory once or twice on the shoulder and bending down so only Mallory could hear, "there might be some bureaucratic snafu and two or three of the Knights we have in custody might end up in your cell. Why don't you think about that?"
Brass signaled for the guard to take Mallory back to his cell. When the prisoner was gone, Brass turned to the one-way mirror and gave a shrug to those in the observation room.
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Conrad Ecklie turned to Catherine Willows, acting supervisor for Grave. "He's not going to give us anything. The evidence..."
"…is just the evidence. Yeah, I know, Conrad. Want to know how many times Grissom has said those very words to me? You know and I know that Gil is innocent in all of this. Pritchard didn't give anything up. We don't even know if McKeen was really dirty. Based on the evidence, he's not. The only thing we have to go was that he set up the safe house and none of those officers who were assigned are talking because they're six feet under. We have eyewitness accounts from Scott and Jones that Grissom shot McKeen in defense of Sara. Both Mallory and Pritchard both say the opposite."
Conrad sighed, "The DA wants to move on this and file charges."
"File what charges and against whom? We're still investigating."
"Against Gil. Catherine, you knew that was coming, and you know what charges. Do you have anything solid on McKeen? We have Scott's and Jones' word. Who's to say that what they're saying is just to protect Grissom? Mallory and Pritchard both say that Grissom shot McKeen execution style. It's their word against Jones and Scott. We know from ballistics that Grissom fired the weapon that killed McKeen and that McKeen was facing away from Grissom. McKeen didn't have a chance. You know, Catherine, Grave shouldn't even be on this case. I don't know why I let you talk me into letting Grave handle it. Any further evidence your guys uncover has to be beyond reproach. You know that, don't you?" explained Ecklie.
Catherine eyed the man next to her impatiently. "Conrad, you don't have to give me chapter and verse. Whose side are you on anyway? Look, I understand, and the team understands what's at stake, okay. Just keep the DA and Sheriff Burdick off our backs and let us do our jobs. We're doing the best we can with what we've got, so cut us a break, will ya?" huffed Catherine as she left the observation room, slamming the door behind her.
Assistant Director rolled his eyes and mumbled to himself, "That's what I thought I was doing."
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Sheriff Burdick entered Jim Brass's office without so much as a knock. "What's the hold-up with the arrest warrants for Grissom and Sidle? And why, pray tell, is Daniel Pritchard still in lock up? He hasn't been formally charged and he could sue our asses for false imprisonment."
"Sheriff, the Grissom's and Sidle's cases are still under investigation. Pritchard is still in lock up because of the eye witness accounts from Dr. Ken Jones and Scott Jones."
"Scott Jones? You mean Grissom, don't you?" asked the sheriff.
"No, I mean Scott Jones. He was adopted by Dr. Jones when he was five, "said Brass wearily. "Look, Sheriff, there's nothing to charge Sara with."
"What about conspiracy? Surely she had to know what Grissom was into. They were lovers, for God's sake."
"Are," Brass said with mock seriousness.
Brass continued, "Look, do you really want to arrest Grissom now with his life hanging in the balance while he's in the hospital? He has a right to be questioned, doesn't he? We arrest him now, it goes on public record and there's no turning back. He hasn't even regained consciousness. Do you, Sheriff, really want that? That opens a whole other can of worms- like every case that Grissom has ever investigated. Sheriff, you can't honestly believe that the evidence Grave has uncovered is real, that it wasn't planted?"
The sheriff paced back and forth in front of Brass's desk. Angrily, he spat, "Stranger things have happened, Captain Brass."
"No! This is Gil Grissom we're talking about. I'll admit that Gil's way of handling some investigations is a little outside the box, but he's a quirky scientist, for God's sake. His idea of getting a high is going over to New York, New York and riding the roller coaster a few dozen times. Sheriff, think about it, really."
The sheriff rolled his eyes and stared at Jim Brass. Finally, he replied, "Fine. Grissom's team has more time to find what they can find."
Brass leaned back against his chair and replied, "Okay, how much time? What are you going to tell the DA?"
"Just…Just get Grissom's team to get going on this. I'll…I'll speak to the DA. Get them to hold off. I'll talk to Maddie Klein. She and Grissom go way back," said Burdick as he waved Brass off impatiently, slamming the office door after him..
Brass gave a smirk as the door shut with a loud bang. "Maddie Klein. I forgot about her," said Brass to himself with a smile.
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An hour before shift started, Catherine asked Greg, Nick, and Warrick to meet her in Grissom's office. As the men filed into the office, Brass followed them in and shut the door, making sure the blinds to the office were closed.
Catherine leaned with her back against the front of the desk with her arms folded in front of her, facing the team.
"Guys, looks like we'll be probably pulling doubles for a while. The DA wants to press charges…" Catherine began, but was interrupted by Greg.
"That's a good thing, right? I mean, Mallory, Pritchard, and Mallory's guards are all down in lock-up," said Greg, eager to get this whole mess taken care of.
"Greg, no, the charges are to be filed against Grissom…and possibly Sara," Catherine said.
"Catherine, you're kidding, right? The DA can't be serious," exclaimed Nick.
Looks of disbelief and indignation crossed the faces of all three men as they looked from on to the other.
Warrick turned to Brass, who was standing behind them. "I know what the evidence seems to point out, but has the DA considered that the evidence may have all been planted?"
Brass replied, "Right now, that's what the evidence is telling us. We don't have any hard evidence to charge Pritchard. We're going to need to release him soon. As for Mallory, he's in isolation both for his protection and because of his priors. We're holding Lopez and Baker on kidnapping charges because of the evidence recovered from the warehouse. We really need to interview each of them first. Then we can go from there."
Catherine continued, "We have plenty of players here. There are bound to be cracks in their stories. We just have to find them by dividing and conquering. That's why I called you guys all here. We need to start with everyone we have in custody. I've got Henry doing tox panels on Grissom, Sara, and all our players. Greg, I want you checking out everything on Pritchard, including who he hangs with in the department, bank accounts, etc. In fact, I want you to also investigate McKeen also, the whole nine yards. Jim is arranging for the warrant for probable cause through IA. We will be finishing up with his interview. Warrick, you and Brass will take on Lopez and Baker. Find out who their contacts are with the Knights and what they've been doing the last year. Nick, I want you to finish processing the jeep and all the evidence from the clinic. Get all the trace to Hodges ASAP and high priority. Oh, and Nick, I also want you to help Vartann with Dr. Ken Jones' interview. Greg and Warrick, both of you will interview Scott. Sophia will be conducting eyewitness interviews with the clinic's staff. I'm going to go over Grissom's townhouse again."
Warrick cleared his throat, "Should we also be processing Sara's apartment since the DA is considering possible charges?"
Catherine looked at each of the investigators sitting in front of her and gave a half smile, "Some trained investigators we are. Sara hasn't lived in that apartment for over a year now. When we processed the townhouse, I think we assumed that Sara occasionally spent time there. None of us really caught on when Sara asked me to get her some clean clothes, did we? She asked me to go to the townhouse. I don't even think she realized it At any rate, I will be going to the hospital later. Sara will also needed to be interviewed and I also need to let her know that she is under investigation. She won't be able to return to the townhouse at least until it has been cleared as a crime scene."
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Faint murmurings penetrated the darkness that surrounded him as he was gradually becoming more aware of his surroundings. Grissom heard a quiet steady beeping sifting through the haze. The sound was familiar. A heart monitor. I'm attached to a heart monitor…hospital…but where? Memories of being in the clinic infirmary flashed before him. The murmurings gradually became louder, and he turned his head towards the sounds. The voice was familiar, but he couldn't quite place how he knew it. Furling his brow, he concentrated on the whispers.
He heard his name gently spoken, urging him to climb out of the darkness. Grissom attempted to reach out to that whisper. His eyelids felt too heavy to open, but he slit them open anyway. The room was dimly lit, but the light still stung. Quickly, he closed his eyes and tried again. The pain eased, and he tried again with a sigh. This time Grissom was able to keep his eyes partially opened. Everything was fuzzy, and he blinked several times to focus on the face that appeared before him. It was familiar, someone he should know, but he was too tired to figure out the puzzle. He just stared silently at the face, hoping that it would just come to him.
A tired Sara Sidle noticed Grissom's slight stirrings. Dr. Taylor had urged her to continue talking and touching him, even if he remained unresponsive. He assured her that somehow Grissom would sense and feel her presence. Sara stepped closer to the bed, and gently grasped Grissom's hand.
"Hey, Gilbert, wake up. Open those blue eyes of yours and look at me," she urged.
Grissom slowly turned his head towards her and cracked open his eyes. Wincing, he quickly shut them again. The man let out a small sigh and tried again, this time keeping them open. He blinked several times at her, but no sign of recognition crossed his face. Sara kept moving and talking to him, hoping that her voice would jar his memory.
"Hey, there you are. You had me scared, you know that?" she said softly with a smile.
Grissom continued to silently stare at her. Undeterred, Sara asked, a little louder, "Would you like something to drink?"
Not waiting for a response that didn't come, Sara reached over to the bedside tray and poured a cup of water and held the straw to Grissom's lips. His eyes never left her as she held to straw up to him. Gratefully, he lifted his head slightly off the pillow and drank some water. Wincing slightly from the faint pounding in his head, he felt the cool welcome sensation of water going down his parched throat. Swallowing, he let his head fall back on the pillow, never letting his eyes waver from the young woman before him.
Flashes of memory of the woman emerged before Grissom as he continued to look at her. He smiled slightly and then relaxed back against the pillow, closing his eyes as exhaustion pulled him back under.
Two hours later, Dr. Taylor came in to check on his patient. Sara was asleep on the cot tucked in the corner near Grissom's bed, and the doctor smiled, glad to see that she was resting. The good doctor had been able to surgically set Grissom's abused arm two days ago when he had been taken off the respirator. There was still swelling to contend with so a cast would have to wait. Dr. Taylor examined Grissom's chart, and then proceeded to lower the blanket and lift the gown covering his patient. He gently probed the man's abdominal wound and was satisfied the wound was healing without a trace of infection. Gently covering his patient back up, the doctor was slightly startled to see Grissom's dark blue eyes staring back at him.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," Dr. Taylor said with a smile. "Do you remember me? I treated you about 3 or 4 weeks ago. You've been run through the mill since then, I see. How do you feel?"
Grissom simply stared at the doctor. This man seemed vaguely familiar, like he had known him a long time ago, but he couldn't remember. Trying to remember who this man was, Grissom looked away with confusion on his face.
Dr. Taylor cocked his eyebrow and studied his patient for a moment. Grissom was obviously ill at ease, but the doctor gave him a small smile.
"It's okay. You're probably feeling a little hazy. You've been heavily sedated since you've been here- kind of a drug-induced coma. We just wanted your body to get a little stronger before we woke you up. You don't have to say anything all right? Just give me a nod or shake your head for yes or no, okay?"
Taylor wasn't sure how much his patient would remember of his ordeal so chose his words carefully. If Grissom didn't remember his dependence on the drugs Mallory had given him, Taylor didn't want that information weighing on the man's mind until the time was right, whenever that was.
Grissom regarded the doctor briefly and then slowly nodded his head.
"All right. Let's start with your head. You sustained a pretty good concussion and a nice gash on the side of your forehead. Does your head hurt?"
Looking away from the doctor, Grissom took a few seconds to think and sighed. Then he slowly nodded his head.
"How about dizziness?"
Again Grissom nodded his head. Turning his head to the doctor, Grissom turned his gaze to his left arm that was encased in a soft cast and elevated on a stack of pillows, and then looked back at the doctor. Finally, he returned his gaze to his injured arm.
Sighing and cocking his head at the man lying in the bed, Dr. Taylor asked, "About your arm? Well, obviously someone doesn't respect my work. I set your left wrist previously when it was fractured. When you came in a few days ago, it looked like someone tried to run you left arm through a meat grinder. Crushed your wrist bones all to hell. Your ulna and radius are fractured in 3 places. I was able to operate on your wrist and arm a couple of days ago- had to wait until the swelling calmed down a bit. Right now, your left arm is being held together with series of screws and bolts. When the swelling goes down further, we should be able to cast it so that the arm and wrist will be protected."
The memory of his previous stay at Desert Palm suddenly flooded through him, and Grissom recognized the doctor. His voice came out barely in a whisper, "Thank you Dr. Taylor."
The doctor smiled widely, "So you can talk. It took you a moment to remember me, didn't it?"
Grissom gave the doctor a nod, and Dr. Taylor continued, "Not unusual. You do have a concussion and, coupled with the sedation, you may be experiencing gaps in your memory. Let's see what you do remember. What's your full name?"
"Gibert Arthur Grissom"
"Okay, can you tell me when you were born?"
"August 17, 1956"
"Great! So far you're batting a thousand."
"How old are you?"
Grissom furled his brow, momentarily confused by the question. "I…I'm not sure. I think…"
Grissom's blood pressure was starting to rise, and the doctor laid a calming hand on the man's leg. "It's okay. It'll come back to you. Don't worry about it. You're bound to have a few gaps here and there, but I'm confident as you heal, the memories will come back. You'll probably get flashes of memory come at you that seemingly don't connect to anything. Just your brain telling you that it's trying to remember."
Grissom looked towards the window and nodded. As he felt the haziness slowly recede, pain was starting to creep into the picture.
Dr. Taylor continued, "Tell me, are you in much pain other than your head? If that arm hasn't started to hurt, it's going to make its presence felt soon. Any other aches or pains?"
Grissom took a minute to reply and then whispered tightly as if the mentioning of any pain had opened the floodgates, " Hur..hurts to breathe…Arm aches…My head is starting to pound now. My abdomen…starting to hurt."
Taylor wrinkled his brow. Taking note of the beads of sweat that had started forming on Grissom's forehead and the sudden rigidity of Grissom's body, pain was definitely making its presence known. Taylor had no doubt that part of the headache was the withdrawal symptoms re-asserting themselves. Picking up Grissom's chart, he made note of his observations.
"Grissom, it's not surprising that it hurts to breathe. You have broken ribs on both sides. Don't know if you remember, but you also sustained a gunshot to your abdomen at close range. The bullet did quite a bit of damage, but you should heal just fine. Look, I'm ordering morphine to take care of the pain. I'll administer the first shot as soon as I note it on your chart. It should…" said Dr. Taylor.
"No…no…don't want any "medication," interrupted Grissom desperately as the memory of being injected with drugs again and again passed before him. "I'll…I'll handle the pain…don..don't want any shots, needles."
Dr. Taylor looked at Grissom with consternation. Normally, he would try to acquiesce with a patient's request against pain medication, but in this case, he knew that the pain Grissom was experiencing would escalate. Sedating him would only delay the evitable, so they were going to have to try to control the pain somehow. The pain would cause his blood pressure to rise and compromise the healing of his injuries. His patient's eyes were starting to develop a wild look to them. Dr. Taylor needed to calm Grissom down.
"Okay, Gil. No shots, all right. I just need you to calm down or the pain will get worse, and it's not doing your blood pressure any good either. What..what if I put you on some oral medication? It won't be as effective, but I think you might be able to control the pain somewhat. We can also try cold packs. No shots okay?" said the doctor in a calming voice.
Grissom nodded his head in agreement. Shutting his eyes, he tried to take shallow breaths to calm down. Taking deep breaths at this point was out of the question. He heard Dr. Taylor quietly leave the room and return minutes later.
"Grissom, here I would like you to take these," the doctor said quietly as to not wake the still sleeping Sara.
Grissom opened his eyes and tried to sit up, only to gasp slightly, and sink back against the pillows. Dr. Taylor quickly raised the bed so that Grissom's head and torso were slightly elevated.
"Better?" asked the doctor.
"Yeah, much better. Thank you," was the quiet reply. Grissom eyed the pills in small paper cup that the doctor held in his hand. "What are you giving me?"
"I have Demerol to give you. It should help you with the pain. It won't take the pain completely away, but it will take the edge off. The side-effects are minimal. They're not going to knock you out, but they may make you a little sleepy."
Dr. Taylor handed Grissom the medication and watched him take the painkillers. Demerol was not the doctor's first choice. The painkillers were not usually recommended for patients who were suffering from drug addiction, but given the level of pain that Grissom would likely suffer, the doctor reluctantly prescribed the medication. Satisfied that the patient had swallowed the Demerol, Dr. Taylor made a note on Grissom's chart. He would make it a point to speak with the nurses to check on Grissom frequently to make sure the pain was not overwhelming and to notify him of any other symptoms such as nausea or spasms, sure signs that the withdrawal was re-asserting itself.
Dr. Taylor watched Grissom settle himself down against the pillow and followed his gaze towards where Sara was still asleep on the cot in the corner.
"She's been here since you were admitted. She'll be glad to see that you're awake," commented the doctor.
Grissom regarded her for a moment and then looked back up at Dr. Taylor. "Um…How..how is she?" asked Grissom, his stare returning to the sleeping woman on the cot.
"Healing very nicely from what I understand," replied the doctor. Seeing the puzzled expression on Grissom's face, the doctor quickly added, "I'm not her attending. Dr. Evans is. He treated her when she was in emergency, the same night you came in. She had a rather deep laceration across her side from a bullet graze. Suffered some blood loss but she's doing okay now. She's probably due to get those stitches out soon."
Grissom turned his gaze back to the doctor. "She's been here the whole time?" The soft murmuring of voices came back to him, and Grissom knew that she had been talking to him, urging him to wake up.
"Mostly. Others have been here spelling her. Your co-workers, I believe, and a young man who says he's your son," commented Dr. Taylor.
"My son?...but he…I had a son," asked Grissom trying to absorb what the doctor had just told him.
"Hey, it'll come back to you. Give it time," soothed the doctor. "I think the Demerol is starting to kick in a little. Get some more rest, and when you wake up, things will probably be clearer to you."
Grissom settled back against the pillows and sighed. Looking up at the ceiling, he let his eyes slowly close and gradually drifted off into a troubled sleep.
A/N: Okay, I apologize for inadvertently lying to y'all. I realized that there loose ends in the case that needed to be resolved while Grissom recovered and that the evidence against him had to be dealt with….so as a result I really don't know exactly how many more chapters this will take. Thanks to all of you who have stuck with me thus far.