I want to thank you all for the wonderful reviews. And I want to thank the
person who complimented me in their story. I was so touched I started to
cry. Excuse me, but I am kind of sick and I gotta go.
Chapter 6
After visiting the scene the team arrived back at the CSI building where reporters were their welcoming committee.
"Is it true one of your officers has become the next victim?"
"Is there any hope in getting her back?"
"Is there any hope of getting her back alive?"
"Do you have any suspects?"
"Do you have any clues?"
The team bowed their heads and proceeded through the crowd.
"Ouch," Grissom said as a camera hit him on the head. Despite his pain he was not fazed and he went into the building.
"Get those reporters out of here!" Grissom yelled at a security guard.
"Grissom, what happened? You're bleeding!" Catherine said, her voice was very concerned.
"I had another run in with a camera," Grissom said.
"Well, we had better get that cleaned up. You can't help her if you're hurt," Catherine said, guiding him to the brake room where the first aid kit was.
"Ah, thank you Catherine," Grissom said as she gave him a pack of ice.
"Did you find anything?" Catherine asked him.
"A piece of hair and a blank address book," Grissom said. "I'm going to see if there's any erased writing on it."
"Give it to Greg immediately," Catherine said. "I will go entertain the reporters."
"Thank you," Grissom said, "I really didn't want to."
"No problem," Catherine said. Grissom shook his head clear. "Are you all right?" Catherine asked him.
"I'm fine. Let's go. We have to save Sara," Grissom said, he stood up and threw the ice bag into the trash. The two walked out. Grissom headed towards the lab and Catherine to the reporters.
Lab
"Greg," Grissom said, coming into the office.
"Yeah?" Greg asked.
"We found a blank address book at the scene, I want you to…" Grissom started.
"Run it through testing? All ready doing. The results will be in by morning," Greg said.
"You do very well when motivated," Grissom said.
"What does that mean?" Greg asked. "Anyway, I will have those blood test results to you in about three hours."
"Greg, are you feeling sick?" Grissom asked him.
"No, it's just. Sara is Sara. I know her and I want to see her back here alive," Greg said.
"Good answer," Grissom said. "Now I'll be in my office reviewing the case."
Outside
"Oh, thank god you're here," the receptionist said. "They're dying for answers and the police can barely hold them back."
"Well, I will give them all the answers I can," Catherine said. She stepped outside the office building.
"Excuse me!" she shouted. "If I can have your attention please!" The reporters actually quieted down.
"Thank you," Catherine said. "Please, I will answer whatever I can IF YOU BEHAVE YOURSELVES. Now we are going to play the kindergarten game and raise our hands before you ask a question."
The crowd mumbled for a couple of seconds before several microphones were stuck in her face and several hands went into the air. A detective behind her was picking people.
"Is it true that an officer is the next victim of the Brunette Basher?" a reporter asked.
Catherine took a deep breath. She knew this was coming. "We cannot be sure until the evidence is processed," Catherine said.
"Is there any hope in getting her back? And alive?" another asked.
"There is always hope," Catherine said.
"Is the FBI going to get involved?" the next asked.
"We have the top crime lab in the country, I don't think we need the FBI," Catherine said.
"Has this effected your skills as an investigator?"
"Despite our personal attachment to the CSI officer, our judgment and skills have not been clouded."
"Can you release her name?"
"At the moment we cannot release any personal information on the newest victim."
"Are you the supervisor here?"
"I can also not release any personal information about myself or any officer here at the CSI or the LVPD."
"What information can you give us?"
"That we are going forward into the investigation and you must excuse me, I have a serial killer to catch." With that Catherine walked into the CSI building and left many cursing reporters outside.
"Nice job," Nick said. "Why didn't Grissom do it?"
"Grissom got decked by a camera earlier this evening," Catherine said.
"Ouch," Nick said. Catherine's beeper went off.
"Come on, let's go," Catherine said. The two rushed to the lab where Greg, Brass, Warrick, and Grissom were.
"Ok Greg, what is it?" Grissom asked.
"Your blood results show that the pool of blood is Sara's," Greg said.
"Damn it," Grissom said.
"But the hair isn't," Greg said, Grissom looked up.
"What about the other victims'?" Grissom asked.
"Not theirs either," Greg said, "but we did find a match."
"Who?" Grissom asked.
"Michael Drofward," Greg said.
"Catherine," Grissom said, "run him through VICAP."
"All ready did, Grissom," Greg said, he handed everybody a folder. "He was actually charged for stalking, kidnapping, and killing a young girl in Florida. He plea bargained the charge to manslaughter, served his time, and got back on the streets three years ago."
"Damn Greg, you are just looking for a raise," Warrick said.
"No, actually, I'm looking for Sara," Greg said.
"That's reasonable," Grissom said. "Catherine, Warrick, Nick, Brass, let's go."
Grissom and the others walked out of the room.
"Are we going to go talk to him?" Catherine asked.
"Yeah, get a search warrant," Grissom said.
"Calling it in," Brass said. Brass pulled out his cell phone and talked to someone on the other end for a couple of minutes. "We got it," he said, "it'll be delivered to the house."
"Let's go," Grissom said.
"Christine, oh, Christine, please wake up," a man's voice said. Sara slowly opened her eyes. She was aware that she was on a soft bed, not a cot.
Sara sat up quickly. She gasped, as she became dizzy and fell back onto the bed.
"Oh Christine, don't hurt yourself," the man said.
"Where the hell am I?" Sara asked him. Sara refused to look at him and instead looked at the white ceiling.
"I moved you to your room. You have been a good girl in not trying to escape when I kept the door unlocked so I thought you would like to be more comfortable.
'No wonder I didn't hear the door lock' Sara thought to herself 'damn it, I could have escaped.'
"You couldn't have escaped anyway, I was waiting by the door," the man said.
Sara closed her eyes for a couple of seconds and then she opened them.
"Who are you?" she asked him.
"Why, don't you remember me?" the man asked. "I must have hit you a little too hard."
"I can vouch for that," Sara said. The man started to laugh.
"That's what I love about you, Christine, you can always make me laugh. Now, change your clothes, you have been wearing those things for over two days now." With that the man left the room. Sara slowly sat up and looked around the room. It was pink. She hated pink. It was so, girlie. Sara looked down at her clothes and saw how dirty they were.
"Well, I hated this shirt anyway," Sara said. She walked over to the closet and opened it. It was lined with dresses, skirts, and shirts.
"I might as well stay in these," she said. But then she noticed some scratches at the bottom of the closet. She bent down to look at them.
Do what he says.
1 Don't disobey him
Don't make him mad.
Sara guessed that the messages were written by the other kidnapped girls.
'I should listen to them' Sara thought to herself.
Sara looked through the closet and found a short, black skirt and a red tank top.
"This will certainly point me out if my body is in the woods," Sara said.
She also took out a black leather jacket. She put on some black tights and some black boots that went up to her knees.
"I can't believe I am dressing like a prostitute," Sara said.
She looked at herself in the mirror.
"Good God, I actually look good in this," she said. She sat down because she started to feel tired again. After she felt better she got up and went over to the vanity. On the table were some directions.
Make yourself at home, Christine. Dress up nice and behave. I also want you to put on makeup and be like you used to be. Remember, I love you, my dear.
"Freak," Sara said.
Beside the letter was a picture. Sara gasped at the resemblance. The person could have been her. It was a woman in her early to mid thirties. She had the same hair and eye color as her. The length was almost the same.
"So, you must be Christine," Sara said.
Sara decided to obey the directions. This man had killed 8 women already and she was next. She must act like Christine until she could escape. Sara opened the makeup kit and proceeded to put on makeup and style her hair. When she was done the door opened and Sara turned around.
"Ah, Christine, how lovely you look," he said.
"Thank you," Sara said politely.
"Time for lunch," he said, holding up a tray with two plates on it. "I thought we could eat lunch together."
"What is it?" she asked him.
"It has no meat, because I know you hate it," he said. The man put down the tray and handed one to Sara. She looked at it. It had a quiche on it.
"What kind?" she asked.
"Vegetable," he said, "the only kind I would give you."
Sara smiled at him, "thank you." She picked up the fork and started eating it. It tasted so bad she almost spit it out.
"Mmmm, this is delicious," she said, almost choking herself. He beamed.
"I knew you'd like it. You always did," he said, clearly proud of himself.
"It's wonderful," Sara said. 'Oh dear God, what did I do to deserve this?' she asked herself. Sara quickly finished it. "Thanks for eating with me," Sara said, handing him her plate.
"You're welcome," the man said. He put the plate on the tray, picked up the tray and started to walk out. Sara seized her opportunity. She ran over and slammed him head into the wall. He fell to the ground and she figured she had knocked him out. Sara ran out of the room and down the hallway. She was almost all they way down the hallway when something hard hit her on the back of the head. She was unconscious before she hit the floor.
Chapter 6
After visiting the scene the team arrived back at the CSI building where reporters were their welcoming committee.
"Is it true one of your officers has become the next victim?"
"Is there any hope in getting her back?"
"Is there any hope of getting her back alive?"
"Do you have any suspects?"
"Do you have any clues?"
The team bowed their heads and proceeded through the crowd.
"Ouch," Grissom said as a camera hit him on the head. Despite his pain he was not fazed and he went into the building.
"Get those reporters out of here!" Grissom yelled at a security guard.
"Grissom, what happened? You're bleeding!" Catherine said, her voice was very concerned.
"I had another run in with a camera," Grissom said.
"Well, we had better get that cleaned up. You can't help her if you're hurt," Catherine said, guiding him to the brake room where the first aid kit was.
"Ah, thank you Catherine," Grissom said as she gave him a pack of ice.
"Did you find anything?" Catherine asked him.
"A piece of hair and a blank address book," Grissom said. "I'm going to see if there's any erased writing on it."
"Give it to Greg immediately," Catherine said. "I will go entertain the reporters."
"Thank you," Grissom said, "I really didn't want to."
"No problem," Catherine said. Grissom shook his head clear. "Are you all right?" Catherine asked him.
"I'm fine. Let's go. We have to save Sara," Grissom said, he stood up and threw the ice bag into the trash. The two walked out. Grissom headed towards the lab and Catherine to the reporters.
Lab
"Greg," Grissom said, coming into the office.
"Yeah?" Greg asked.
"We found a blank address book at the scene, I want you to…" Grissom started.
"Run it through testing? All ready doing. The results will be in by morning," Greg said.
"You do very well when motivated," Grissom said.
"What does that mean?" Greg asked. "Anyway, I will have those blood test results to you in about three hours."
"Greg, are you feeling sick?" Grissom asked him.
"No, it's just. Sara is Sara. I know her and I want to see her back here alive," Greg said.
"Good answer," Grissom said. "Now I'll be in my office reviewing the case."
Outside
"Oh, thank god you're here," the receptionist said. "They're dying for answers and the police can barely hold them back."
"Well, I will give them all the answers I can," Catherine said. She stepped outside the office building.
"Excuse me!" she shouted. "If I can have your attention please!" The reporters actually quieted down.
"Thank you," Catherine said. "Please, I will answer whatever I can IF YOU BEHAVE YOURSELVES. Now we are going to play the kindergarten game and raise our hands before you ask a question."
The crowd mumbled for a couple of seconds before several microphones were stuck in her face and several hands went into the air. A detective behind her was picking people.
"Is it true that an officer is the next victim of the Brunette Basher?" a reporter asked.
Catherine took a deep breath. She knew this was coming. "We cannot be sure until the evidence is processed," Catherine said.
"Is there any hope in getting her back? And alive?" another asked.
"There is always hope," Catherine said.
"Is the FBI going to get involved?" the next asked.
"We have the top crime lab in the country, I don't think we need the FBI," Catherine said.
"Has this effected your skills as an investigator?"
"Despite our personal attachment to the CSI officer, our judgment and skills have not been clouded."
"Can you release her name?"
"At the moment we cannot release any personal information on the newest victim."
"Are you the supervisor here?"
"I can also not release any personal information about myself or any officer here at the CSI or the LVPD."
"What information can you give us?"
"That we are going forward into the investigation and you must excuse me, I have a serial killer to catch." With that Catherine walked into the CSI building and left many cursing reporters outside.
"Nice job," Nick said. "Why didn't Grissom do it?"
"Grissom got decked by a camera earlier this evening," Catherine said.
"Ouch," Nick said. Catherine's beeper went off.
"Come on, let's go," Catherine said. The two rushed to the lab where Greg, Brass, Warrick, and Grissom were.
"Ok Greg, what is it?" Grissom asked.
"Your blood results show that the pool of blood is Sara's," Greg said.
"Damn it," Grissom said.
"But the hair isn't," Greg said, Grissom looked up.
"What about the other victims'?" Grissom asked.
"Not theirs either," Greg said, "but we did find a match."
"Who?" Grissom asked.
"Michael Drofward," Greg said.
"Catherine," Grissom said, "run him through VICAP."
"All ready did, Grissom," Greg said, he handed everybody a folder. "He was actually charged for stalking, kidnapping, and killing a young girl in Florida. He plea bargained the charge to manslaughter, served his time, and got back on the streets three years ago."
"Damn Greg, you are just looking for a raise," Warrick said.
"No, actually, I'm looking for Sara," Greg said.
"That's reasonable," Grissom said. "Catherine, Warrick, Nick, Brass, let's go."
Grissom and the others walked out of the room.
"Are we going to go talk to him?" Catherine asked.
"Yeah, get a search warrant," Grissom said.
"Calling it in," Brass said. Brass pulled out his cell phone and talked to someone on the other end for a couple of minutes. "We got it," he said, "it'll be delivered to the house."
"Let's go," Grissom said.
"Christine, oh, Christine, please wake up," a man's voice said. Sara slowly opened her eyes. She was aware that she was on a soft bed, not a cot.
Sara sat up quickly. She gasped, as she became dizzy and fell back onto the bed.
"Oh Christine, don't hurt yourself," the man said.
"Where the hell am I?" Sara asked him. Sara refused to look at him and instead looked at the white ceiling.
"I moved you to your room. You have been a good girl in not trying to escape when I kept the door unlocked so I thought you would like to be more comfortable.
'No wonder I didn't hear the door lock' Sara thought to herself 'damn it, I could have escaped.'
"You couldn't have escaped anyway, I was waiting by the door," the man said.
Sara closed her eyes for a couple of seconds and then she opened them.
"Who are you?" she asked him.
"Why, don't you remember me?" the man asked. "I must have hit you a little too hard."
"I can vouch for that," Sara said. The man started to laugh.
"That's what I love about you, Christine, you can always make me laugh. Now, change your clothes, you have been wearing those things for over two days now." With that the man left the room. Sara slowly sat up and looked around the room. It was pink. She hated pink. It was so, girlie. Sara looked down at her clothes and saw how dirty they were.
"Well, I hated this shirt anyway," Sara said. She walked over to the closet and opened it. It was lined with dresses, skirts, and shirts.
"I might as well stay in these," she said. But then she noticed some scratches at the bottom of the closet. She bent down to look at them.
Do what he says.
1 Don't disobey him
Don't make him mad.
Sara guessed that the messages were written by the other kidnapped girls.
'I should listen to them' Sara thought to herself.
Sara looked through the closet and found a short, black skirt and a red tank top.
"This will certainly point me out if my body is in the woods," Sara said.
She also took out a black leather jacket. She put on some black tights and some black boots that went up to her knees.
"I can't believe I am dressing like a prostitute," Sara said.
She looked at herself in the mirror.
"Good God, I actually look good in this," she said. She sat down because she started to feel tired again. After she felt better she got up and went over to the vanity. On the table were some directions.
Make yourself at home, Christine. Dress up nice and behave. I also want you to put on makeup and be like you used to be. Remember, I love you, my dear.
"Freak," Sara said.
Beside the letter was a picture. Sara gasped at the resemblance. The person could have been her. It was a woman in her early to mid thirties. She had the same hair and eye color as her. The length was almost the same.
"So, you must be Christine," Sara said.
Sara decided to obey the directions. This man had killed 8 women already and she was next. She must act like Christine until she could escape. Sara opened the makeup kit and proceeded to put on makeup and style her hair. When she was done the door opened and Sara turned around.
"Ah, Christine, how lovely you look," he said.
"Thank you," Sara said politely.
"Time for lunch," he said, holding up a tray with two plates on it. "I thought we could eat lunch together."
"What is it?" she asked him.
"It has no meat, because I know you hate it," he said. The man put down the tray and handed one to Sara. She looked at it. It had a quiche on it.
"What kind?" she asked.
"Vegetable," he said, "the only kind I would give you."
Sara smiled at him, "thank you." She picked up the fork and started eating it. It tasted so bad she almost spit it out.
"Mmmm, this is delicious," she said, almost choking herself. He beamed.
"I knew you'd like it. You always did," he said, clearly proud of himself.
"It's wonderful," Sara said. 'Oh dear God, what did I do to deserve this?' she asked herself. Sara quickly finished it. "Thanks for eating with me," Sara said, handing him her plate.
"You're welcome," the man said. He put the plate on the tray, picked up the tray and started to walk out. Sara seized her opportunity. She ran over and slammed him head into the wall. He fell to the ground and she figured she had knocked him out. Sara ran out of the room and down the hallway. She was almost all they way down the hallway when something hard hit her on the back of the head. She was unconscious before she hit the floor.