CHAPTER 3: THE RUNAROUND


After spending multiple hours of thoroughly re-examining the inside of Miles's pickup for further forensic evidence, Greg is ready to give up, but Sara isn't as determined to quit.

"I hate to say it, Sara, but we've searched throughout this entire truck from front to back, and the only other evidence we've managed to collect are some hairs. Which don't do us any good because we have nothing to compare them to."

Sara sighs in defeat, climbing out of the passenger seat of the pickup slamming the door shut.

"You know what, Greg, I think you're right." She lets out a groan, "ARGH! This is just so frustrating!"

She takes off her medical mask and peels off her latex gloves before coping a squat against a counter, tucking her knees to her chest as she does so. Greg seats himself beside Sara, removing his medical mask to speak with his disgruntled colleague.

"We're gonna catch whoever did this," he says, trying to reassure her, knowing how frustrated Sara became.

"How?" she asked. "We literally have nothing to go on outside of some hairs, and we only just got custody of our victim's body."

"Greg places a gentle hand on Sara's shoulder. "We've solved cases with less forensic evidence than this," he says, offering a small smile.

"I know that... I just..." Sara trails off, not even knowing where the conversation is heading herself. "I'm gonna go find Grissom."

Standing upright, Sara slips out of her jumpsuit and takes off her goggles, placing the discarded items on a chair near the door before heading out of the garage to the lab.


Brass made it to the police station where office Sanchez escorts Miles out of the overnight holding cell and into an interrogation room. Sanchez flipped on the lights instructing Miles to be seated, releasing him from the handcuffs, and exits the room, assuring Brass he'd be right outside if he needed him. The two men sat in awkward silence as Brass observed Miles, who was seated with his arms across his chest looking too comfortable in Brass's opinion, especially if he really was a guilty man. Not in the sense of stealing but in the sense of killing one's best friend.

Miles had jet black curly hair with a scruffy beard to match, looked like he was in his mid to late thirties, wore a grey worn-out looking t-shirt with a single pocket on his left breast, men's Levi jeans, a blue baseball cap, and work boots with caked in mud. Brass finally engaged Miles, who appeared uninterested like being there, was less important to him than it should be.

"Tell me something, Miles, do you make it a habit of stealing from convenience stores?"

Miles leans back in his chair, slouching, inaudibly mumbling under his breath.

Brass leans forward, narrowing his eyes mimicking Miles's mumbling before replying, "You're gonna have to speak up; I don't speak mumble."

Miles gets defensive, speaking with a thick southern drawl. "I said I wasn't stealing; I had $100."

Brass chuckles forgetting Miles is from Texas. He scoffs before replying. "Yeah, in chips, you do realize those things are useless outside of the casinos; you have to cash them in before you use them."

"I want those back, by the way," Miles huffs under his breath, uncrossing his arms.

"Is that the same excuse you gave Larry Waters when you and your buddy Matt Whitman stole beer from his store?"

"That's what this is about? That crazy squirrelly-looking bastard? I knew he'd go back on our deal!"

Brass raised his eyebrows as his curiosity peaked from what Miles said. "What deal might that be, huh? Did you two conspire to kill your best friend?"

Miles looks at Brass, baffled, his tone of voice changing from defensive to confusion. "What? No! I told you when you brought me in here that I didn't kill anybody! Matt... Matt's dead? The last time I saw him, he was alive, I swear."

"That's what they all say," said Brass. "Now explain to me the deal you made with Larry."

Before explaining himself, Miles takes a pack of cigarettes out from his shirt pocket.

"You can't smoke in here," states Brass.

"Pfft, fine," retorts Miles as he lays it on the table playing with the pack by spinning it from the opposite corners. "Matt and I hit it big at one of the casinos, Tangiers. We made a little over $2K, but we got reckless with spending it on booze and women..."

"And cigarettes," added Brass.

"Yeah, that too." Miles continued, "The deal we made with Larry was simple $1K up front for as much beer as we wanted. One night he took a swing at Matt for taking beer off of the shelf without paying for it. Larry got a crazy look in his eyes as he chased us out of the store with a crowbar. Matt and I hightailed it outta there to my cousin's place, which is where we're staying in Goodsprings. The next morning Matt didn't get up, having been hung-over from the night before, so I left him sleeping on the couch. I left my truck in the driveway, so if and when he sobered up, he'd have some transportation. I called a friend who picked me up, brought me into Vegas, and hung out all night. Larry must've tailed us home from the night before, figured out where we're staying, and killed Matt then."

"Interesting tale," comments Brass.

Miles spins the pack of cigarettes faster than intended causing them to fall off the table and across the floor.

"Shit, can you get that?" asks Miles.

"Sure, allow me," replies Brass sarcastically, pushing his chair back to get up. "Excuse me, I have a phone call to make," he says, all the while stepping past the cigarettes and out of the interrogation room.

"Man, what about my cigarettes!" yells Miles as the door shuts.

Brass peers in front of the two-way glass of the interrogation room to keep an eye on Miles while dialing Warrick's cellphone. "Sanchez, the guy dropped his cigarettes," Brass commented, waiting for Warrick to pick up.


It was day two, and Grissom was growing frustrated that there weren't any new leads in the ongoing investigation into the hit-and-run case. He and his team examined and were now re-examining every piece of forensic evidence gathered from the crime scene upon his request feeling they may have overlooked something. Leaning back in his chair Grissom takes off his glasses to rub his temples to soothe the oncoming migraine. He inhales and exhales deeply, but just as he finds himself able to relax, doc Robbins buzzes, requesting his presence in the coroner's office.

"What is it, Al?"

"Not a good time?" He could sense Grissom's irritated tone. "I wouldn't have buzzed you if this weren't of importance. David and I started the autopsy, and well... this isn't exactly something I can tell you over the phone; I'd rather you come down and see it for yourself."

Grissom hung up the phone. He got up from behind the desk, fretting exiting his office. The moment he opened the door, his sense of vision and hearing are impaired due to the increased light and sound exposure from the offset intensity of his migraine. The florescent lab lights were brighter than those in Grissom's office, and the sound of people talking and working mixed with the noises of the machines whirring, beeping, and buzzing caused him to feel dizzy. Grissom attempts to steady himself by reaching for the wall but is further away from it than he judged. He'd have fallen over if not for an outreached arm offering him supporting for balance; the helpful hand was that of Sara Sidle.

"Easy, are you all right?" she asked, assisting her supervisor to a nearby bench where they both took a seat.

The dizziness slowly subsided as Grissom turned to look at her, not knowing if she was real because the last time he saw her, he was hallucinating from the heat. "Fine," he replied, eyes coming into focus meeting hers. Grissom hated lying in general, but especially to Sara, his head was still throbbing.

"Greg and I thoroughly re-examined the inside of the truck as you requested." She paused before continuing; aware her supervisor was a little off. "We didn't really find any new evidence outside of some hairs, but we've got nothing to compare them to. In regards to the set of fingerprints I analyzed earlier, there's only one positive match, and it's to our victim Matt Whitman."

Grissom interrupted Sara by placing a hand up to stop her. "I was on my way to the coroner's office when... well before I accidentally bumped into you." He nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hand.

"I hope I didn't spoil whatever doc Robbins was going to tell you," replies Sara.

"As a matter of fact, he wasn't going to tell me he said I have to see for myself."

"Oh."

Grissom got up from the bench, continuing on his way until Hodges blocked his path.

"Please, Hodges, not now."

"But..." Hodges pleaded.

"Not. Now," said Grissom firmly.

Nick and Warrick had returned from their second trip out to Goodsprings Valley, where they managed to obtain footage from Larry Water's security cameras. The pair inquired the help of A/V Technician Archie Johnson, an audio/visual surveillance specialist, to review the tapes.

"What's all this?" asked Archie.

"Security footage of our victim stealing from a convenience store," replied Nick setting the box down on a table.

"We weren't sure how good the quality of the tapes is, so we were wondering if you'd do us a solid?" asked Warrick.

"I'll see what I can do," replied Archie digging through the tapes. "This will make it a little easier," he commented, taking notice of the labels.


Nick and Warrick stood next to each other, observing Archie as he went to work. He wheeled the TV cart closer to the table, careful not to tug the extension cord out of the outlet, changed the input method to video, and popped the first tape into the VCR player. The quality was better than Archie anticipated, half expecting it to be grainy, which it wasn't just in black and white. Nick Warrick and Archie watched as the footage played, showing multiple customers coming and going from the store throughout the day as Larry attended to them from behind the cash register. But ten minutes into the first tape had them wondering about the volume.

"Why can't we hear what they're saying," asked Nick.

"Try the volume on the TV; maybe it's not turned up," suggested Warrick as he and Nick began searching for the remote.

"There's no need," said Archie.

"Fine, I'll just turn it up on the TV," replied Nick making his way to the TV, but was stopped by Archie.

"I meant there is no audio, just video we're just gonna have to watch until your victim appears on the screen. You know what he looks like, don't you?" asked Archie.

"Yeah," replied Nick. "I saw enough photos that Catherine took of him at the crime scene."

"The guy behind the counter is Larry Waters," said Warrick. "He's the one who owns and operates the store."

"I kind of figured. How many more tapes are there?" asked Archie.

Nick looked back in the box-counting out loud to himself before replying, "Uh, one, two, three... six more."

"Great," replied Warrick sarcastically whose cellphone began ringing, startling him a bit. He pressed the talk button to answer the call. "Hey, this is Warrick," he answered, stepping off to the side of the room so as not to distract Archie and Nick from watching the tape.

"Do you have the security footage?" inquired Brass watching through the two-way glass as Sanchez picked the pack of cigarettes off of the floor handing them back to Miles.

"We're reviewing them right now with Archie," replied Warrick. "Why, what's up?"

"I interviewed our dead guy's buddy Miles Gardner who informs me that the last night they were at the convenience store, Larry took a swing at Matt and chased both of them out with a crowbar. Anything on the tapes that support this story?" asked Brass.

"I don't know; we're just now watching the first tape," replied Warrick. "Which one do you think would show that?"

"I don't know; Miles didn't specify a date, but if I had to guess, I'd say the last one," assumed Brass.

"Hang on," said Warrick, cradling the cellphone with his shoulder to his ear. He rummaged through the box of tapes on the table, finding one Larry labeled 'JUNE 02/2004', which was the latest date. "Here we go," Warrick said, popping the first tape out of the VCR player in exchange for the last one.

"Hey! What are you doing?" asked Archie.

"Yeah, man, we're not done watching that!" said Nick.

"Just let it play guys, I think Brass might be onto something," said Warrick stepping back to rejoin them.

The three guys, four if you count Brass, who was listening in, waited as the security footage played out.

"He said it happened at night?" asked Warrick to Brass, whom he was still on the phone with.

"Yeah," replied Brass, who was growing impatient he really wanted to nail Miles.

"Hang on," said Warrick. "Hey, Archie, can you fast forward until its night?"

"Sure," replied Archie grabbing the remote to fast-forward.

"Wait, wait, wait. Stop! That's it," said Warrick.

The tape resumes playing, showing Miles and Matt entering the convenience store right around 9 PM. Miles makes his way to the storefront counter to the register to purchase a pack of cigarettes. That distracts Larry, who turns his back to the store as Matt moseyed down the aisles to the liquor shelf, swiping a six-pack under his arm. Larry rings up Miles but gets furious as he realizes that Matt is trying to head out of the store without paying for the six-pack. Larry comes from behind the counter, arguing with Miles and Matt the pay for the beer. The footage shows Larry leaving stepping off-screen out of frame only to re-enter just as Miles said, returning with a crowbar chasing the two out of the store.

"Whoa," comments Archie.

"You could say that again," said Nick, the two exchanging looks of shock.

"Brass, I think you've got your guy," said Warrick.

"Miles?" asked Brass.

"No, Larry, the tape supports Miles's story. Larry, in fact, threatened to assault them with the crowbar," confirmed Warrick.

"Thank you," said Brass hanging up the phone ending the call.


Grissom put on a white lab coat, grabbed an extra pair of goggles, and slipped on some latex gloves before joining Dr. Albert Robbins; more commonly referred to by his friends and colleagues as doc Robbins, the teams Chief Medical Examiner, and his apprentice David Phillips; the assistant coroner, in their work domain. Upon entering, Grissom saw them hard at work as doc Robbins operated a bone saw to remove the victim's chest cavity splattering blood as he did so. Both doc Robbins and David were dressed in scrubs, white lab coats, now stained with blood, medical masks, safety goggles, and latex gloves.

"Don't tread on me," said doc Robbins switching off the bone saw placing it on the cart table beside him.

Grissom came towards the autopsy table to get a closer look at the body, deciding the play along. "Christopher Gadsden 1775," responded Grissom. "The flag is named after the American general and politician, who designed it during the American Revolution. But what does he have to do with our case?"

Doc Robbins willfully ignored his question carrying on with his work. "David, would you like to do the honors?" he asked, offering his apprentice the chance to remove the victim's sternum and rib cage so they could better access the organs for further examination. Doc Robbins could tell by the state of the organs alone that the victim died of organ failure.

Regarding the quote the doctor exclaimed to him, Grissom couldn't help but smile to himself, knowing doc just wanted the opportunity to engage in witty banter with him.

"You brought me all the way down here just so you could say that, didn't you?"

Doc just smiled at him as David handed him a pair of forceps.

"So I take it you can't tell me anything else?" asked Grissom.

"I'll contact you as soon as we find out ourselves," replied doc Robbins.

"Thanks, doc," said Grissom leaving the coroner's office. He hung up the lab coat on a nearby hook, laid his goggles back in the bin, and took off his gloves, properly disposing of them in the trash on his way out the door. Before Grissom headed out, he turned to talk to doc Robbins once more.

"Hey, doc?"

"Yeah, Gil?" responded doc Robbins without looking up from his work.

"I'm seeing someone," is all Grissom said, waiting for his reply.

This catches the doctor's attention. "David, take over for me," he says, passing off his medical instruments.

"Are you sure?" asks David trying to act like he didn't just hear what Grissom said.

"He's dead; you can't hurt him; I'm leaving him in your capable hands," replies doc Robbins before joining Grissom.

Grissom steps out of the coroner's office and into the hall with doc Robbins.

"You're seeing someone?" repeats the doctor while removing his mask to speak. "Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out as a shock."

"Yes, but not in the way that you'd think," replies Grissom, reluctant to further explain himself.

"I'm a doctor, not a mind reader; you're going to have to be more specific. What other way is there to see someone?" wonders doc Robbins who begins guessing. "Internet dating?"

"No, I'm... hallucinating," admits Grissom saying the last part in a near whisper.

"Hmm, I see. May I ask when and how these hallucinations began?" Doc Robbins can tell that he's losing Grissom's attention, as he appears to be looking past him rather than head-on. "Gil, are you hallucinating right now?"

Grissom complies by nodding "Yes" while staring off just past doc Robbins's shoulder to where she (Sara) is standing, unsure if it's really her or not. Doc Robbins turns around to see where Grissom's focus is directed but doesn't see what he sees.

"You can't see her can you?" asks Grissom, whose eyes look vacant.

Before doc Robbins has a chance to reply, his cellphone rings, pulling Grissom from his trance-like state; the doctor reads the name displayed before passing the phone to Grissom.

"It's for you assume."

"Hey Jim," answers Grissom.

"Where's your phone?" wondered Brass. "Nevermind. Listen, Gil, I've got you your crime scene and our perp on a platter," said Brass. "I just finished interrogating Miles Gardner, our victim's best friend, who may have given us a new lead. Miles informed me that he and Matt were attacked by Larry with a crowbar, and Larry went back to finish the job by bumping off Matt."

"Where's our scene at?" asked Grissom.

"Miles mentioned he and Matt were staying at his cousin's place in Goodsprings. I'm speculating Larry killed Matt at the house. I'll go back in there and get an address out of him."

"Thanks for calling Jim," Grissom hung up the phone hand it back to doc Robbins.

Brass headed back into the interrogation room to press Miles for more details for the investigation.


Grissom returned to the lab where he debated who he would pair to investigate Mile's cousin's house, who he'd send to Tangiers to support Miles's alibi, and who would accompany Brass to pick up Larry to be interrogated. Nick and Warrick were coming from the break room cutting up, arguing over a bet they made from which of their picks would win tonight's basketball tournament against the Las Vegas Aces. However, their supervisor's presence quickly put a stop to this.

"Nick, Warrick, there's a new lead in the hit-and-run case. We have our crime scene, and I need you to go back out to Goodsprings Valley to Matt's cousin's place. Brass will give you the address."

"Count me in," said Nick.

"Beats staring at photos," quipped Warrick as Catherine passed by. "No offense."

"None taken," replied Catherine, who'd been tasked with going over the crime scene photos. She headed into the break room to brew a fresh pot of coffee.

Grissom took notice. "How long have you been up?"

"Let's see," she said, thinking out loud to herself as Catherine poured a cup of coffee with cream and two sugars. "I pulled a double shift yesterday with no break might I add, and I've been on the clock ever since, so... that adds up to oh I'd say infinity hours?" she said jokingly. Catherine made her way over to the table, setting her cup of coffee down; so she had both hands free to pull up a chair without sloshing her beverage. "Y'know I deserve a raise, Gil."

"I'll meet you halfway; how about some time off? Go home. Be with Lindsey," he said, plopping down in the chair next to Catherine's. Grissom began rubbing his temples again.

She took notice. "Migraines, huh? They have medicine for that."

Sara and Greg join the others in the break room. Grissom spots them, unsure if Catherine can see Sara too.

"There you two are," says Catherine before taking a sip of her coffee.

That's enough confirmation to Grissom that he's not the only one who can see Sara this time. He decides to send them into town. "I need you two to go to Tangiers." Truth be told, he just wanted to be as far away from Sara as possible until he could figure out his hallucinations.

"What for?" asked Sara curiously.

"You're going to see if there's any evidence to support Miles Gardner's strike it rich tale," replied Grissom.

"His what? Who's Miles's Gardner?" asked Greg, who clearly didn't listen during the last team debriefing.

"Miles claims he and his buddy won thousands of dollars, so I want to know who if anyone saw them there in the past week. If possible, I also want you to review the security footage. I have a feeling Miles's storytelling is off compared to the timeline." Grissom turned his sights on Catherine. "That leaves you. You're with Brass."

The group split off in their respective pairings assigned by Grissom and went back into the field. Nick and Warrick head back out to Goodsprings Valley to investigate Miles's cousin's place, along with Brass and Catherine to pick up Larry Waters to bring him in for questioning while Sara and Greg head into town to Tangiers to support Miles's statement of his whereabouts and winnings.


Everyone got up from the table as the meeting Grissom called was adjourned all but Sara, who sat in silence with a spaced-off look. Greg noticed when she didn't follow him. He paused to turn on his heels, stopping just at the entrance of the doorway.

"Sara, are you all right? You coming?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Sara was lost in deep, concentrated thought, shaking them from her head. She snapped out of her daze at the mention of her name. "Yeah, I'm fine; you go on ahead; I'll be with you in a moment."

She got up from the chair, deciding to follow her supervisor, who'd retreated back to his office. Grissom shut the door and drew the blinds before lying stretched out on the couch with his hands clasped resting over his stomach. Alone at last in the peace and comfort, he thought to himself, but a knock on the door interrupted Grissom's private time. It was Sara; he knew it was her. Catherine or Brass would have helped themselves in, and Nick and Warrick were usually there per his request. Sara was the only one considerate enough to knock.

"Come in," Grissom said.

Sara opened the door, gently allowing herself inside, standing at the end of the couch. She spoke softly, aware of Grissom's condition. "I wanted to apologize for earlier." She took a seat, making herself as comfortable as one could on the armrest of the couch. "Had I known that the bottle of foreign liquid was a key piece of evidence in the investigation, I never would have pawned it off for Hodges to analyze," she explained.

Grissom's eyes were closed as he just lay there without responding. It wasn't that he couldn't; he was lost in the sweet sound of Sara's voice. One of the things that he loved about her was how passionately she spoke of forensics. When Sara didn't continue speaking, Grissom's eyes flew open, wondering if she was still in the room.

Then he spotted her sitting by his feet at the end of the couch, not knowing if he should move to make space for them both. Grissom decided to lie still, knowing his head was still throbbing. However, he could tell that whatever Sara had to say next was making her nervous because she was repeatedly playing with the velcro pocket of her cargo pants, quickly peeling it open then slowly smoothing it shut.

Despite the pang of his head from the throbbing of the migraine Grissom sat up on the couch, placing his hand over hers so she'd stop fidgeting with her pants pocket. It dawns on him that he could be hallucinating again, but Grissom doesn't know for sure because this time he could touch her.

Sara shoots him a small smile before speaking again. "Sorry, I know you don't feel good, so I'll try to make this short. Before I knew you were suffering from a migraine, I just thought you were avoiding me."

Hallucination for not Sara wasn't wrong. In a sense, Grissom had been avoiding her. She tried to gauge his face for a reaction to what she'd told him so far, but Grissom remained stoic as he pulled his hand back away from hers. Sara looks at him. Grissom appeared tired and vulnerable, and although she'd had herself for it later, she takes advantage of it as she continues.

"I thought you were avoiding me because of the Lurie case."

Grissom's eyes grew wide as what Sara said registered in his mind. Oh God, he thought to himself, heart rate speeding up, and palms growing sweaty. Was she on the other side of the two-way glass? Did she really hear what I said to him? It had been weeks since they worked on that case. It also made Grissom wonder if Sara knew what he said after all this time. Why would she bring it up now? He also knew there's still a good chance he's hallucinating Sara altogether.

"I heard you," confirmed Sara. "I heard what you said to him and his attorney regarding the murder of Debbie Marlin and how you felt you couldn't take the risk. I was just wondering why?"

Grissom contemplates his options. On the one hand, he could be hallucinating Sara, so what's the harm in answering to a hallucination? On the other hand, if it really is Sara, he would finally have to admit his true feelings, and Grissom wasn't sure if he was willing to accept them himself, let alone explain them to her.

After a moment's silence, Grissom decided to explain himself as best he could. "That was a hard enough case overall for the team to solve, but for me, there was an added emotional difficulty given the nature of the crime and the suspect who bore such resemblance to... well, you, Sara. Throughout the entire case, I had been so torn apart between my feelings for you and my responsibility for work."

Sara knew that Grissom felt like his work was all he had going for him, but she felt he was selling himself short.

"What if you could have more than your work?" she asked, swallowing hard. "What if you could have someone... to care about?"

Grissom searched his mind recalling the theory he shared that day in the interrogation room regarding the murder. He closes his eyes as he flashes back.

"I'll tell you what I told Lurie. I said it was sad that guys like us, a couple of middle-aged men who've allowed their work to consume their lives. The only time we touch other people is when we wear our latex gloves. We wake up one day and realize that for fifty years, we haven't really lived at all. Then, all of the sudden, we get a second chance. Somebody young and beautiful shows up somebody we can care about."

At this point in the re-telling of the story, Sara's eyes have welled up with tears, while Grissom's eyes have opened. She fights the urge to interrupt him to say what she'd really intended to. It's me, isn't it? I'm the young, beautiful one you could really care about. Just say it, Grissom. Please.

Grissom continues. "She offers us a new life with her. But we have a big decision to make, right? Because we have to risk everything we've worked for in order to have her." Grissom's breath catches in this throat as he chokes up, making it hard to breathe, let alone continue, but he manages. "I couldn't do it, but Lurie did. He risked it all, and he was lost, so Lurie took Debbie's life. He killed both her and Michael and now he has nothing."

Grissom turns away from Sara, unable to look at her. But he feels her reach for his hand to hold and doesn't try to stop her. A tear streams down her cheek as Sara encourages Grissom to look at her in the eyes.

"Hey," she says softly. "Look at me."

Still, hand in hand, Grissom turns his whole body slowly towards Sara, meeting her with closed eyes pressing his forehead to hers.

"You're not Lurie," is all Sara says.

A wave of relief washes over Grissom like it's exactly what he's been longing for and secretly wanting to hear from her all along. His head has also stopped throbbing.

"Are you coming or not?" asked Greg.

He found Sara standing just outside of Grissom's office. She was unable to bring herself to knock after having listened through the door the whole time as her supervisor spoke to himself.

"I told you I'd be there in a moment," replied Sara in a loud whisper, making her way over to Greg.

"Yeah, that was like ten minutes ago," Greg said, leaving to head to Tangiers.

Grissom opens his eyes. He scans the room only to realize he's alone in his office. Grissom feels a mix of emotions, including hurt, frustration, and confusion. He's hurt that he finally admitted how he really feels to the woman he loves. Frustrated that it was for nothing because he ended up admitting so to a hallucination, and confused as to why he was hallucinating Sara at all.