A/N: A new chapter on Saturday night! Enjoy! And leave a comment, please! Thanks
A Return to Vegas
Chapter 7
It was nearly seven o'clock when Sara woke; the curtains were open and the room was filled with light. Stretching her arms and legs, there was no sign of her husband except for the messy bed. Rolling to his pillow, he had not been gone long; she could still smell him. Pulling the duvet over her shoulders, she went to one of the long windows.
The sky was bright blue and in the pasture she counted four horses and one small pony. The reason for her daughter's wish, she knew.
Still draped in the duvet, she padded to the bathroom where sunlight from a high window painted the floor a dazzling white. The window faced an area of native plants, stone pathways, and outdoor artwork; she could hear familiar voices so, standing on her toes, she looked out the window to find her husband and her two children playing in the area.
She watched as her children made piles of small rocks, their dad spreading the pebbles around, talking to the children. They were working hard; faces intense as they appeared to be separating stones by size.
Smiling and in a vaguely dreamy frame of mind, she went about the process of getting ready for the day. A quick shower—she smiled remembering the night before. At forty-nine, she had thought her libido would be on decline, but if anything, she wanted sex more than ever. Not just sex, she thought, but the act of making love with her husband—her body tingled at her thoughts. As she toweled dry, she could not keep the smile from her face; what had surprised both of them was adding children to their lives. If they were younger, they'd have four or five kids—just pop them out like baby rabbits, be absolutely fascinated by each one.
She reached for her clothes, pausing for a minute of gratitude for a life she thought she would never have, and, as she buttoned her shirt, she heard the laughter that came with her family. Seconds later, they ran into the bedroom, a bit scruffy looking, uncombed hair, dusty hands, and big smiles.
"We have a surprise for you, Mommy!" Anthony said as he ran to her, hugging her legs.
Libby ran across the floor, slipped, almost lost her balance, hesitated a few seconds before deciding the race to her mother was more important than crying. Sara grabbed both children in a hug, kneeling to their level.
She said, "I have a surprise! So early in the morning?" She kissed one, then the other, breathing deeply into each head of curly hair. Until she experienced it, she had never known this kind of love for another human.
"Daddy said you needed to sleep so we were quiet." Anthony said as he managed to wedge his body between her knees.
Not to be outdone by her brother, Libby went for her mother's thigh, nudging herself into the space between her mother's arm and leg as Sara's hand touched the floor for stability. Grissom reached her before she tumbled, lifting Libby into his arms.
He said, "Let's show her the surprise! Then we'll have more breakfast."
The guest house had a long open area from kitchen to dining area to living area with tile floors and bright rugs. The bedrooms opened directly into this area and when they left the bedroom, Sara saw her 'surprise'.
Outlined in small stones between the dining table and sofa was a large heart with two small hearts inside. Sara admired the hearts, listening as her children explained how they searched for stones and made the design by themselves. She hugged, kissed, and praised each child for this wonderful surprise.
As the family ate breakfast—bowls of cereal and fruit, cheese sticks, bagels—Lindsey Willows arrived. She came in laughing, hugging everyone, admiring the artwork on the floor before she sat at the table.
"We have so much to do today, kids! Are you ready?" She asked.
Anthony and Libby were beyond giddy, excited as they made plans to feed and ride the pony.
"Find your hats," Sara said.
The children ran into the shared bedroom, chattering like little monkeys.
"Thank you, Lindsey. We appreciate this more than you know," said Sara.
Lindsey said, "You two need to help Jim—and the others." She fiddled with a spoon left on the table. "We—Adam and I—plan to have kids—this is good practice."
Grissom, moving dishes to the sink, laughed, saying, "Don't wait as long as we did!"
With nervous fingers, Lindsey kept the spoon in her hands. She asked, "Did you have problems? I mean—with—with—you know—getting pregnant?"
Moving back to the table, Grissom said, "When Sara came—after she saw the video you gave her, thank you again—it was like the Eiffel Tower on Bastille Day—the Olympic Stadium on opening night—to be honest, I was ready for…"
"Gil!" Sara shrieked his name. "Where are you going with this?" She waved her hand in the direction of the kids' bedroom. "Go—Lindsey and I will talk for a few minutes."
Lindsey had covered her face with her hands, entire body shaking with laughter.
When Grissom disappeared, Sara turned to Lindsey. "How long have you been trying?"
"Six months."
Sara reached for Lindsey's hand, covering it with hers. "We tried for years—everything out there with no success. Then—I got pregnant on a boat in the middle of the ocean. We were beyond surprised after all those years when nothing happened.
"So see your doctor. You are young—don't wait. You may need help—before the second pregnancy, I took one round of Clomid and it worked."
Lindsey giggled, saying, "Maybe we need some time apart. Then Adam would be," she giggled again. "Like fireworks."
By the time Sara and Grissom arrived at the crime lab, they were immersed in discussing what they knew about this case. In the conference room, Maxine got the ball rolling by introducing an IT guy and the woman who was in charge of ballistics.
Susan Griffin was a fast moving, slow talking expert who had arrived at the Vegas lab from a similar job in Illinois. Meticulously, she laid printouts of the results of each of the three weapons on the table.
She said, "Obviously, the bullets fired by the guns don't match the patterns you've seen. I haven't entered any of this into the data base but I don't think it's the physical records that—that's been corrupted." Her look of disappointment was obvious.
Maxine said, "You've helped tremendously—we needed some of the older weapons tested to be certain." She sighed as she looked around the room, finally saying, "I don't think I've ever been so confused!" Looking at the tech guy, she said, "Tell us something, Joe—anything to give us a direction."
Joe Baker lived for technology and he knew the ins and outs of the computer world better than he knew his own face. Quickly, he explained that he'd been working in reverse; there were certain characteristics in each comparison that were the same.
He said, "We needed those original guns—which showed us the ballistics from those guns did not match up—now we can concentrate on computer files. What we know is the virus has corrupted the files."
"I'm already behind on this," said Grissom. "How'd you find corrupted files?"
For a few seconds, Joe was quiet, then he said, "It's kind of like a bomb—a series of bombs. The hacker—the person who did this—found a way into the crime lab data base. Sort of like setting a bomb inside a door and running a string from the bomb to the handle on the door. When someone—in this case it was Maxine when she plugged in the bullets from Lake Mead—opened the door, it set off the bomb—or in our case the virus."
He had been drawing a diagram on a piece of paper, turned around so Grissom could see it. "Here's the bomb—the virus when it is activated. Unlike most bombs, the virus doesn't stop. The next time someone goes in to retrieve ballistic information, the virus hops—as if there is a string running from the first bomb to another one. You get a ballistic comparison to—and I think I'm right—to a non-existent gun. It's all computer generated by this virus."
Maxine said, "This sounds sophisticated."
"Interesting you'd say that," said Joe. "Occasionally, guys who are hobbyists and take a lot of pride in building unique circuits—viruses—can be very clever. They use cell phones, lap tops, spend hours looking for a crack in systems. Their skills are smart; they have abilities far ahead of everyone else. I don't think this is who we are dealing with."
"Why not?" Grissom asked.
With a sigh, Joe shook his head, saying, "This looks like a guy who doesn't know the sophisticated ways of breaking into systems but he's smart enough to figure out a very effective way of doing it. That means—just my opinion—that he's learned how to hack into this system for a single mission. He's not destroying everything in the data base just to get a hard on; he's got a grudge against someone or the lab. He has used names of former officers—there is a reason for that—attaching those names to the computer generated ballistic records."
Maxine made a sound to speak, but Joe held up his hand. "One more thing—he—or she—could have gotten a password and then it would've been easy to get in. The crime data base has a good wall—not the greatest, but should be good enough and this guy just sailed right in. My hunch is he got a password."
Everyone had something to say, including Joe who answered a lot of questions. Sara was writing notes and came to two conclusions. She wrote them down and passed her paper to Grissom. He read: Hacking is not rocket science, once you had an understanding of how to do it. And the hacker is smart.
Another fifteen minutes passed before everyone seemed to run out of information and questions.
Maxine looked at Grissom and Sara and asked, "What do you want to do now?"
Grissom said, "We're going to go investigate."
"What?" asked Maxine.
Sara answered, "Find out who has a grudge against the lab—try to narrow it down using those eighteen guns."
Maxine turned to the three young investigators and said, "Two of you go with them. One stays here with Joe. I'll let you decide." As she gathered files on the table and stood, she mumbled, "You find this person in three days and I will kiss every one of you."
One of the young guys made a soft laugh.
She touched Chris on his shoulder, saying, "And I'll French kiss you, Chris—right here, in the conference room in front of the entire lab."
A/N: Thanks for reading! More coming!