A/N: A Monday holiday and a new chapter to read! Thank you to all who read! And a special thank you to those who send comments!
A Return to Vegas
Chapter 12
Sara's first thought was Libby was crying. Then she realized the insistent noise was her phone buzzing in the bathroom and her daughter was wedged between her parents; and everyone was asleep.
The phone stopped ringing and in the quietness, Sara was almost certain she heard snoring from the living room. Jim, she remembered, stayed overnight. Stirring slightly, she felt movement; her husband's hand was on her hip.
Her fingers twined with his and at the same moment, both squeezed their hands.
Grissom whispered, "Your phone rang."
"Yeah, I heard." Sara sighed, softly adding, "I'd like to stay here with you and ride a pony with my kids."
With a chuckle, Grissom pushed covers back, climbed over Libby and his wife to the empty space on the bed beyond Sara. After he moved, Anthony grunted and spread to the space Grissom had left.
Settling beside Sara, wrapping an arm around her, he kissed the back of her neck and said, "You could do that—but our kids are having a great time—and the man on the sofa needs our help. He was shaken up by all that happened. Not just the guy in his house but the association with his long-time housekeeper."
Sara rolled to her back so she could face him, hugged him so his head could rest on her shoulder. She whispered, "He was confused—upset—I'm glad you stayed with him, brought him here."
"We had fun—squealing kids and sticky slushes and Libby asking every three minutes if she could have her own pony."
Softly, Sara laughed, asking, "What does Anthony say about a pony?"
Grissom kissed her on her chin as he chuckled. "He wants a kitten."
For a while, in the morning quietness, they stayed together, caressing faces, light kisses; occasionally, whispering about their brilliant children. They knew what the other was thinking because they had shared their thoughts about these children. The love had surprised them but during the early months after Anthony was born, they had come to the realization that they cherished him—like a treasure. Looking into his eyes, they had decided there were secrets to infancy no parent ever knew.
After Libby was born, they had experienced the same sensation—babies had a wisdom about them that slipped away between infancy and adulthood. They loved and cherished their son and daughter without realizing that most parents felt the same way about their children.
Another kiss on her neck brought Sara out of her reverie and she smiled, bringing her husband's hand to her lips, holding it there for a long moment. It was a rare intimate moment for them with no interruptions, no expectations, just restful awakening in the warmth of a loving embrace.
The moment ended when Libby, with her thumb stuck in her mouth, rolled contentedly; her eyes blinked twice before her mouth broke into a smile and her thumb disappeared. Sleeping with her parents was one of the best moments of her young life.
A few minutes later, Anthony began to wiggle and giggle and the parents laughed and hugged them just for the joy of being happy and loved and here and now.
After a time, Grissom left them with the promise of eggs for breakfast, leaving the children to tell about the previous day's activities. Their mother asked the right questions and managed to keep the conversation from going in the direction of kittens and ponies.
Voices from the living area got the kids attention; forgetting their mother they ran into the living room and immediately pounced on their best buddy, Jim. Listening to laughter, Sara got ready for the day, checking her phone to find a message from Maxine.
She had finished the call when Grissom stuck his head in the bathroom door saying, "Eggs are ready and Catherine and Lindsey brought muffins."
Grissom's breakfast eggs were not just cooked eggs but light and fluffy, wrapped omelet-style around a salsa of sweet tomatoes, onions and peppers. The kids were tucked into their servings as Sara scooted into a chair next to Anthony.
Conversation jumped from swimming to cookies to pony-rides and climbing in the barn and riding a golf cart around the pasture.
"Are you sure?" Sara asked Lindsey nodding her head in the direction of the kids.
The younger woman laughed, nodding yes, as she said, "I think I might have found a new career—I really do enjoy being with them!"
At the other end of the table, Catherine, Grissom, and Brass were having a whispered conversation about the events of the previous day. As the last eggs were scooped into mouths, Lindsey asked if the children were ready to check on animals in the barn.
The answer was yes but only after a flurry of fetching clothes, a shirt on backwards, shoes found, and hats on heads before they were out of the house.
More coffee was poured into cups as Grissom left to dress and Sara filled Jim and Catherine in on what had happened at Caldwell's house.
Sara said, "Maxine called this morning. They found a storage unit that was rented by Caldwell—she wants us to come over. Says it is some kind of make-shift lab."
Brass groaned, saying, "And they haven't found him? What is wrong with this guy?"
Catherine murmured, "What has he got against the lab? Or against the retired cops? Does it make sense?"
Sara pulled a face. She said, "How many of the cases we worked made sense?"
With that question, Catherine and Brass recalled some of the craziest cases in their memories.
"The Klinefields," Brass said.
For several minutes, they talked about details they remembered from the case that led to talk of other cases.
"The UFO cult mass murder," said Catherine. "All those kids killed like that—I had nightmares for months. And when Nick was kidnapped and buried—I don't know how we kept going."
"How is Nick?" Sara asked. She did not want to delve into crazy cases and nightmares.
"Good," the same answer from Jim and Catherine.
"He visited several weeks ago—a month—I guess," Catherine said. "Works all the time. Claims not to have a current girlfriend."
Sara laughed. "He came to see us about four months ago—I thought he'd found a good one then."
As they laughed at the erratic romance history of their friend, Grissom arrived waving a black hat in their direction. He said, "Let's go check out the storage unit!"
Jim and Catherine had made plans to return to his house and check on damage; all promised to keep in touch.
Grissom drove through parts of Vegas neither remembered, passing numerous storage facilities, dozens of pawn shops and convenience stores before the navigation directions put them in a series of turns to the right address. There were so many law enforcement vehicles, Grissom let Sara out near the gate and drove away to find a parking spot. He walked passed a dozen uniforms without anyone questioning him and found Sara waiting inside the gate.
"Down the fourth row, near the end," she said. "Maxine says we can't miss them."
And they could not. A line of vehicles, a few double parked, stretched the length of the row of storage units. A tent had been set up at the entrance of one of the units, crime tape stretched around the tent poles. Grissom paused a moment, lifting the tape for Sara to go in. She murmured something unintelligible as she stepped closer.
There were so many people inside the unit, he stood for several moments and watched the activity that brought back hundreds of memories. This one was as bizarre as any he could remember—lab equipment, evidence envelopes and bags, boxes of slides, microscopes—all jumbled together in no order.
"Come on, Dr. Grissom!" Maxine called. She held up a brown paper bag and gave a cynical smile. "We have your name on several of these."
The storage unit was a double size space with a single door on one side and a roll-up door on the other. There were freezers and refrigerators, file cabinets, a drying cabinet, two microscopes, hot plates and incubators—none of it new—but the shock was in supplies stacked in the center. There were labels, recorders, solutions, folders marked for DNA and fingerprint evidence, and paper and plastic bags—most marked with an official looking 'Las Vegas Crime Lab' stamp.
Examining a small machine, Allie said, "Here's how he makes the labels—and it looks genuine—almost." She held up a piece of paper.
Maxine pulled a paper from a box and showed Grissom an almost illegible signature. She asked, "Does this look familiar?"
The squiggly signature was similar to his—almost. Shaking his head, he said, "How long has this been going on?"
Across the room, Sara turned, saying, "What was his plan? Was the ballistic hack just the beginning and all of this," she waved her arm, "was the next hack?"
Maxine described the hunt for Alan Caldwell, his trail gone cold after leaving his house. "No idea where he is," she said.
Grissom wandered from front to back, touching nothing, noticing everything. When he returned to Maxine, he said, "There's a layer of dust on everything. Nothing has been used—the equipment isn't new but it hasn't been recently used—seals are still on bottles." Pausing, he looked around as everyone stared at him and then he said, "I don't think he did anything here."
A/N: Leaving you with a Grissom 'one-liner'- more to come! Probably another 3 chapters to this story.
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