Chapter 33

The team gathered in the lay out room. Catherine and Vartann had just explained their new hypnosis theory. And while it explained the strange behaviour of the victims, it didn't get them any closer to finding Jimmy. Or explaining why he was doing all of this.

"I think we can answer that," Nick said as Sara voiced her question. He hesitated slightly before laying out what he and Greg found at Jimmy's apartment. Sara's eyes were instantly drawn to the pendant now sitting a few inches away from her.

"We found this in a hidden dark room, in Jimmy's office," Nick said, watching Sara carefully. But she paid not notice. Her fingers reached for the necklace, picking up the plastic bag between her thumb and forefinger. Trying to control the trembling that threatened to overtake her. "I found the necklace and dress in Jimmy's bedroom."

"Sara?" Finn called to her, the blonds brows furrowing in concern. "What is it?"

"This," Sara almost whispered. "It's mine."

"Yours?" Catherine exclaimed. She moved around the table, coming to a stop next to the brunette now visibly shaking. They were all looking at her, the eyes of every person trained on the necklace in her hand.

Grissom put a hand to the small of her back, but Sara could barely feel it. It was as if she were outside her body. They only thing that felt real was the clear plastic baggie, and the sunflower pendant within.

"I…" She started, her voice an echo in her ears. "I thought I lost it. Years ago."

"How did Jimmy get it?" Morgan asked, looking to Greg, her voice going up a little in indignation.

"Has Jimmy ever been to your house?" Russell asked, surveying her over his glasses. Sara shook her head, not able to take her eyes off the flower. It had been a gift, from her mother. Given to her, back before the 'incident'. Before Sara's childhood was changed forever. She had been six years old at the time, and her mother and father had taken her out for a day trip to a carnival that had recently come to town. Trying to make up for the screaming and beating that had occurred the night before.

Her father had taken her on every ride, while her mother plied her with gifts and sweets. Sara had found the necklace, at a small stand in the corner of the carnival. A table set up under a hunter green tent. The sides had been rolled up, giving passers by an easy view of the trinkets laid out before the young woman manning the stall.

Sara dragged her parents over to the stand, with all the excitement of a little girl viewing sparkly jewellery.

"No, Sara," her father had said. "You've had enough for one day." His arms almost overflowing with her mother's gifts of guilt. Sara's face fell, and she flinched a little at his tone. He was growing tired, and bored. It wouldn't be long until Michael Sidle would drag his family back home. And the cycle would start all over again.

However, when Michael's back was turned, in a rare show of disobedience, Sara's mother pulled out a couple of bills and plucked the necklace off the tree where it had been hanging. With a quick, frightened look at her husband, Laura Sidle handed the pendant to her daughter and said in a whisper; "so you never forget, Sara. You are my sunshine. My little sunflower." This wasn't a gift of guilt. It was a gift of love, from a mother to her daughter.

All her other gifts had been thrown away, almost from the moment the Sidle family made it home. But Sara hid the necklace. Kept it secreted in the inside pocket of her backpack. It was the one thing, the only possession she kept from her childhood. The only piece of her mother Sara had left.

When she had discovered it had gone missing, Sara had torn her house apart. Literally. Dragging around furniture, pulling her clothing apart. Emptying every draw. But she could not find it. After almost four straight hours of searching, Sara fell to her knees as silent tears streamed down her face.

But nothing she felt on that day compared to the feelings coursing through her at that moment. He had been in her house. Invaded her home and stolen her mother's gift. Sara's hand fisted around the bag as her anger threatened to overwhelm her.

Grissom brought a hand up to hers, encasing her fist in his larger one. His eyes were dark as his temper matched with hers. He knew. He knew what this necklace was. What it meant.

Sara did not relax her grip, but Grissom was not dissuaded. A calloused thumb swept across her hand, and he moved a little closer.

"What about the dress?" Vartann asked, pulling the bag with said garment towards him.

"It's mine too," Sara said, her voice flat as she tore her eyes from Grissoms to look at the detective. "I took it to the drycleaners, but they told me they lost it. I didn't really think too much of it. The drycleaners compensated me, and I never really like it anyway."

"Neither did I," Grissom said, and Sara caught his eye. He gave her a shadow of a wink, pulling his lips up a little in a half smile. Trying to distract her, for just a moment. To get her focus back to the case at hand. A time will come, Sara knew, when she would need to deal with all that had been revealed over the last couple of days. When it would hit her. Threaten to consume her. But not now. Now she needed to concentrate.

Her eyes drifted back to the table, and the evidence now scattered atop it. She hadn't taken much notice of the pictures Nick laid out before; her attention immediately caught by the necklace. But now she looked over them. There were so many. All of her. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of Jimmy watching her. For so long. Without her knowledge.

Invading her privacy. Injecting himself into her life. Documenting every moment.

Sara felt violated. More than she had when he shoved his tongue down her throat.

There were no pictures of Grissom, but there were a few of Sara with the guys, or Russell. Morgan and Finn. Even a couple of shots of Sara with officers, working a crime scene. But most of them were of her, and her alone. At the lab. At her local coffee shop. In her home.

"So," Greg put in. "Jimmy, most likely, broke into you home to take the necklace." Sara could feel Grissom stiffen beside her, but she just squeezed his hand. "Then he probably took the dress from the drycleaners."

"Ok, let's just forget this for the moment," Russell said, waving his hand like he was wiping a name from a whiteboard. "What's his connection with Lady Heather? From what we've been able to find, Jimmy, or rather Dr Quinn reached out to Lady Heather as opposed to the other way around." Russell asked.

"It's got to be Sara," Nick said, looking to her. "You're the only common link between them. The pictures, the dress, the necklace. All of it suggest he's been stalking you. It wouldn't be too hard to find out about Lady Heather, or her history with Grissom."

Everyone was looking between them. Sara could feel the weight of their stares, the questions burning beneath them. Grissom shifted beside her, uncomfortable under the heat of the teams' gaze. Morgan and Finn were curious. Nicks face was unreadable. Greg, uncertain. Catherine cocked an eyebrow and Vartann acted as if he didn't know where to look.

"Ok," Russell said, once more taking their attention. "For reasons unknown, Jimmy reaches out to Heather, and her patients. He starts to treat them."

"Then," Finn put in. "Three months ago, he sends them out on a crime spree. Why?"

"Something must have happened," Catherine said, looking at Grissom. "Something set him off."

No one answered her. Sara's mind was working overdrive. Her eyes scanning the pictures scattered out on the table before her. One caught her attention. It was of her and Russell, sitting outside a coffee shop. Sara lent forward to pick it up, a memory tugging at her brain as her eyes inspected the photo.

"Russell," she called, looking up at the supervisor. His eyes squinted as he took in the photo she was holding up for him. "Do you remember this?" He held out his hand and Sara handed over the picture.

"We were having coffee," Russell said, looking up at her in confusion.

"Three months ago," Sara prompted. She remembered now. Remembered the coffee, the conversation they had. The decision she had made. That was when Russell had offered her his job, and she had told him she was leaving. When she had decided to go after her husband, again.

Russell's mouth dropped open as he caught what she was implying. "The day you quit."

Everyone's head snapped up at Russell's words. Nick and Greg were looking at her, their mouths hanging open. Grissom was frowning in confusion. She could practically hear the questions his mind was screaming at her, but Sara didn't look at him. Her eyes were locked with the tall, white-haired man, as another piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

"You quit?" Greg asked. Sara looked over her team. Finn was frowning in confusion. Morgan was looking between her and Grissom, and Nick and Greg were staring at her in disbelief.

"That's why he's doing all this? Because you quit?" Vartann asked.

"No," Catherine responded, her eyes on Sara. "To keep her in Vegas."

"I don't get it," Vartann said. "How does all this keep Sara in Vegas?"

"Because she couldn't leave," Russell replied. "The lab was tapped out; we had no extra bodies to pick up the slack. We needed her here."

"So," Finn interjected, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Jimmy sends his patients out on a crime spree, just to keep Sara in Vegas?" Her voice lilted up a little in disbelief. "There has to be more too it."

"Jimmy was stalking her," Nick put in, gesturing to the pictures littered across the table. "It's not a massive leap to suggest that he wouldn't want her to leave."

"Yes," Finn said. "But why would it matter if she was in Vegas or not? He could just as easily stalk her anywhere else in the country." The matter-of-fact tone sent another tremor down her spine.

"I don't think it was just about keeping her in Vegas," Catherine said, still looking at Sara.

"What do you mean?" Russell asked.

"Why were you leaving?" Catherine asked her. Sara just looked at the older woman before glancing at the man beside her. Grissom's brows were furrowed as his eyes searched her face. "I think," Catherine continued, not waiting for Sara to answer. "Jimmy did this to keep Sara from Grissom." Shock registered across the room like a wave.

"But it didn't work," Russell said. "She was leaving away." He looked over to Sara and nodded. "We agreed on two weeks leave. The day…"

"Her house caught fire," Greg finished for him. The silence that settled around them was deafening. Even the sounds of the lab around them didn't reach the criminalists now staring at each other.

"Did you tell Jimmy you were leaving?" Russell asked her.

Sara's mouth dropped open. She had told him. Was on the phone to him, while she was packing. Russell nodded, his brows frowning as she silently confirmed his theory.

"So, all of this," Vartann said, looking between the two CSI's. "The crime wave, the fire, the bombings, were all to keep Sara away from Grissom?" Disbelief lighting the detectives voice, and Sara couldn't argue with the tone.

Sara shook her head. "That's what doesn't make sense," she said. "If this was all about keeping me and Grissom apart, why the bombings? Why implicate Lady Heather? If Jimmy knows anything about their history, he had to know that we would call Grissom in the moment she was suspected?"

Grissom was the 'Heather expert' after all, Sara through wryly. The only one who stood a chance of getting through to her. If they hadn't called him in, then Heather probably would have. The only reason Grissom was even in Vegas, was because of Heather. There had to be something else. Something she was missing.

Grissom was looking at Catherine. An understanding passed between the two friends that Sara couldn't quiet comprehend.

"Heather was the only one who knew," Catherine said to him. "She might have told him." Grissom nodded, his face thoughtful. A frown creased Sara's forehead.

"Knew what?" She asked, looking between them. Grissom met her gaze, eyes so deep with emotion Sara felt like she would drown him them.

"That I was already coming back."