Chapter Four
Headers, disclaimers in Chapter One
******
The heat from the eastern sun splayed across Grissom's face through
the window, drawing him from sleep. He adjusted his eyes to the glare
while he processed his surroundings. Resort. Disney. The memories of
the previous day filtered in as he lifted his wrist to check his
watch. It was just past ten in the morning—a little earlier than what
he was accustomed to, but the gnawing in his stomach encouraged him
to leave the bed. He hadn't eaten since the light meal on the plane.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he grabbed his carry-on from the
dresser and walked into the bathroom. After a quick shower he
redressed in gray pants and a black button-down shirt, the latter
hanging open as he walked into the living room, towel drying his
hair. He stopped short at the soft sound of the television coming
from the middle of the room. Dropping the towel away from his eyes he
was startled to see Sara sitting in the semi-dark, staring in the
general vicinity of his chest. Surprised, he fumbled with the small
buttons as she looked on in amusement.
"Hey, don't get dressed on my account." She was sitting on the couch,
her legs tucked up next to her. She had a bagel in one hand; a half
empty glass of orange juice sat on the coffee table.
Grissom slanted his eyes at her and took a seat on the couch as
well. "What are you watching?"
.
"Disney Information Network. Did you know as resort guests we are
allowed to enter the park an hour before non-resort visitors?" she
parroted. "It was our `zip-a-dee-doo-da tip-for-the-day.'"
"Oh, god." He grimaced. He watched her lick a bit of cream cheese off
her thumb. "Where did you get that?"
"They have a bar set up near the concierge desk. I brought you some
fruit and a cinnamon roll. It's on the counter."
"Thanks. Coffee?"
"Of course." She grinned at him. "It's there."
He got up and moved to the counter where he looked in the mug with an
odd expression. "What's in it?"
"Cream." She responded in an obvious tone.
"Why is it orange?"
"Hazelnut cream."
Grissom squinted at her. "Who uses that?"
"I do." She looked back at the television now, signaling the end of
their exchange. He brought his breakfast back to the table in front
of them and sat back down, either not noticing or not caring that her
sock-clad toes rested against his outer thigh. They watched in
interest as a promo for the Disney-MGM Studios on the screen. Sara
frowned. "That Tower of Terror ride looks more nauseating every time."
"Every time? How long have you been up?" He had been surprised to see
her awake as it was; she was exhausted the night before.
"A couple hours. I slept a lot on the plane." She added as if reading
his thoughts. She reached over and grabbed a piece of melon from his
plate, cringing as the people on TV plunged down the elevator shaft
for the fourth time. "Did you hear from the coroner?"
"They forwarded a message from the front desk right before I fell
asleep last night. He'll be sending a copy of the pathology findings
and the autopsy photos through email."
"We don't have to go to the lab?" Sara asked, surprised.
He nodded. "Not today at least. We're meeting Steve at eight inside
the park. The public will still be there, so he's taking us in
another way."
"Okay." She sat in thought for a moment. "I'm curious to get the
analysis on that black fiber we found. It's a heavy material; doesn't
seem to fit with what you'd normally find in that kind of setting."
"It's difficult to tell. My priority is the pine beetles right now.
If that body was transported we need to know how and when. It could
explain the fibers."
Sara stared at him. "Transported? What about the spatter?"
"That's why we need to see those autopsy reports." He reminded. He
looked at her black tank top, sweatpants, and her hair, pulled back
into a ponytail. "Get dressed."
She looked confused now. "Why? You just said we were free until
tonight."
"We are."
"You have got to be kidding me."
He merely looked at her, an uncharacteristic grin spread across his
face.
"No, Grissom." Sara looked at the façade of the old hotel in front of
her. "I hate this ride."
"You've never been on this ride." He tossed back.
She crossed her arms in front of her. "I'm not going. I'll wait." She
searched the area behind her with her eyes. "There's an ice cream
cart over there. How about you go and I'll get us some." Her eyebrows
lifted hopefully.
"No."
"Coasters are your thing. I never have liked them." Sara stated,
already turning toward the exit.
"This isn't a roller coaster. This is a freefall."
"You're not helping your case."
Grissom shook his head. "Just once. I'll even buy you a t-shirt."
"Like I'll want to be reminded of this." She regarded him; an
enthusiastic Grissom was a rare Grissom these days. "Okay, but I
reserve the right to leave if I change my mind."
"You won't." He put a hand at her back and directed her forward
through the fog and crumbled brick that framed the entrance to the
attraction. His light touch turned into a push as a series of loud
screams caused her to stop and look at the source of the noise nearly
thirteen stories up. "That's just an effect." He lied.
The skepticism on her face was evident as they weaved through the
queue and the tangled vines that surrounded it. They passed a stone-
faced cast member in a bellhop uniform as they entered the lobby. The
décor was 1930s in style; the attention to detail was impressive. Or
it would have been, Sara thought, if the prospect of her imminent
death weren't weighing so heavily on her mind.
They followed approximately fifty other guests through a large door
into another room. It looked like a small lobby from any old hotel;
books lined the walls and the light came mainly from the antique
sconces spread throughout the room. After a warning to stand clear of
the doors as they closed the room fell into darkness. Crowded by the
group of people around them Sara leaned into Grissom slightly.
"I'd really rather not..." A video screen flickering on in front of
them cut her off. The Twilight Zone theme played as a Rod Serling
sound-alike told the story of the Hollywood Tower Hotel; it was a
magnet for the rich and famous in 1939 Hollywood until a tragic
accident. The screen showed a young family stepping into an elevator
never to be seen again. The voiceover continued.
"This, as you may recognize, is a maintenance service elevator still
in operation, waiting for you. We invite you, if you dare, to step
aboard because in tonight's episode, you are the star. And this
elevator travels directly to...The Twilight Zone."
Sara rolled her eyes as the doors on the opposite side of the room
opened. "This is silly. Maybe we could call Steve and see if we can't
get those dummies early. You like dummies, if I recall. I also
remember..."
"That you've been fighting me for the last twenty minutes on this
ride? If once we get off this thing you've still maintained your
excessively inordinate interest in reenacting this crime scene we'll
place the call. I just can't help feeling you're trying to get out of
this."
He could feel, rather than see, her glare. He watched her stride
ahead of him and nearly knock over an expressionless cast member
asking how many people would be traveling with them. "Two." She
answered, and then turned back to Grissom with an empowered look. He
merely shrugged and took his spot behind her as the elevator doors
opened. He saw her shoulders straighten as she walked to the back
row. She started to slide in when she suddenly stopped in the narrow
aisle.
"Too late now, Sara."
"I know." She said with a hint of defiance. " I just don't want to
sit on the outside."
He nodded in concession and slid across to the far side of the bench,
his right shoulder against the metal grate. He felt the warmth of her
body next to his as she pressed against him to allow room for the
large man who was sitting next to her now. Grissom reached forward
and pulled the bar in front of them over their laps. Sara looked
stricken when she realized their traveling companion's size had left
almost a foot between her body and the padded restraint. "Grissom!"
She hissed in his ear.
"It's okay. The bar is mainly there for you to hold onto anyway." He
attempted to reassure her, but she had the appearance of a snared
rabbit. The bellhop at the front of the elevator spoke again.
"Are there any questions? No? Well, if you need anything, just
scream. We hope you enjoy your stay here, and do feel free to 'drop'
in again." And with that the doors closed and the elevator was
immersed in complete darkness as it started to ascend. Sara's body
tensed and both of her hands grasped the lap bar. After several
seconds the car lurched to a stop and the doors opened again.
Suddenly they were in an expanding hallway, the room stretching as a
door appeared at the opposite end. The scene shifted into a vestibule
and an odd odor filled the air.
"What's that smell?" Grissom asked Sara, but her attention was on the
five ghostly images materializing in front of them. They seemed to
beckon the passengers toward them as an inexplicable breeze blew
through the elevator shaft. Then the corridor and its occupants
vanished. The window was the only thing that remained; it hung in the
emptiness before moving toward their car where its image shattered,
the scene transforming into a sea of stars.
Grissom watched at Sara's face transformed from a look of fear to a
sort of fascinated apprehension. It quickly changed back to fear as
the doors slammed closed and the elevator sped upward; Rod Serling's
voice filling the chamber again.
"One stormy night long ago, five people stepped through the door of
an elevator and into a nightmare. That door is opening once again,
and this time, it's opening for you."
"Grissom, if we live I'm never speaking to you again." The feel of
her fingers wrapped around his lower thigh undermined her words. The
doors opened once again and her grip tightened. He squeezed her hand,
partly to reassure her and also because even with her short nails the
pain was intense.
The elevator moved sideways now, shifting heavily onto another track.
It moved slowly into another dark hallway where several images
flashed back at them. The ghosts. The window. The formula for E=MC^2
flashed by before dissolving into nothingness. They could see
themselves reflected in the pupil of a giant eye as it floated past.
Her hand reached for his again as the car lurched into the drop zone,
all sound having stopped.
Grissom was only aware of her breathing as the elevator hung
suspended for nearly ten seconds. The air became very hot, as a
blanket of stars appeared only to fade back into darkness. Just when
the anticipation became unbearable the seat seemed to fall out from
underneath them.
The screams of the other passengers dominated the moment as the
elevator plunged seven stories, creating a sense of weightlessness
before they were pulled back up to the top of the shaft. The window
opened and Sara opened her eyes long enough to see the view of the
rest of the park; the sight of the Mickey water tower providing a
tranquil contrast to her own mental state. A bright flash went off
and she was taken by surprise as they plunged down again. In the back
of her mind she was aware of regretting having taken the seat next to
the burly man on her other side; the front of her mind was focused on
no longer feeling the bench beneath her. Although she knew it was
irrational, she was convinced that Grissom's left arm was the only
barrier between her and the concrete floor nearly 100 feet below.
Two smaller, slower drops ensued before she felt the car stabilize
and come to a stop, an electronic hum signifying that they were once
again back on the track. They felt a soft thud as the elevator rested
in what appeared to be the hotel basement. The lights came back on
and Rod spoke once again.
"A warm welcome back to those of you who made it, and a friendly word
of warning; something you won't find in any guidebook. The next time
you check into a deserted hotel on the dark side of Hollywood, make
sure you know just what kind of vacancy you're filling...or you may
find yourself a permanent resident of...The Twilight Zone."
Grissom looked sideways at Sara who stared back, her breathing still
shallow. "Do you hate me?" He asked, looking legitimately concerned.
"Yes." She responded, deadpan. Their eyes met for several seconds
until her lips finally turned upward. Grissom smiled back and they
held the gaze for several seconds before Sara stood on shaky legs.
She wobbled a bit as they descended the steps into the unloading
area; Grissom rested a hand on her shoulder briefly.
"You enjoyed it, didn't you?" He knew he was pressing his luck.
"I already forgave you, Grissom. I'd like to keep it that way."
He nodded. "Fair enough." He paused a moment. "I'll be right back.
Why don't you go into the gift shop?"
"Okay" She answered, assuming he needed the restroom and was
surprised that she didn't. As she walked into the shop Sara was
confronted with rows of merchandise. She was looking at a Hollywood
Tower Hotel bathrobe in amusement when Grissom returned, a bag in
hand.
"What's that?" He hadn't purchased anything in the gift store; she
would have seen him.
He pulled a folder out of the plastic and flipped it open. He watched
her face as she realized what it was.
"You didn't."
He shrugged.
Sara looked at the photo, biting her lip to keep the laughter at bay.
He had purchased the picture from their ride. She immediately found
the back row. Grissom looked completely expressionless and appeared
to be staring directly at the camera. She wasn't surprised that she
was barely visible; her brown hair covered her face, as she appeared
to bury herself into Grissom. "I can't believe you bought this."
"I thought the rest of the team might like to see it."
"They probably would; it's too bad that will never happen."
"Okay, Christmas card photo."
Sara shoved the picture back in the bag and smiled. She hadn't seen
Grissom this relaxed since shortly after she had first met him back
in San Francisco. "So, lunch?"
"You can eat already?"
She led the way.
---------------------------
Headers, disclaimers in Chapter One
******
The heat from the eastern sun splayed across Grissom's face through
the window, drawing him from sleep. He adjusted his eyes to the glare
while he processed his surroundings. Resort. Disney. The memories of
the previous day filtered in as he lifted his wrist to check his
watch. It was just past ten in the morning—a little earlier than what
he was accustomed to, but the gnawing in his stomach encouraged him
to leave the bed. He hadn't eaten since the light meal on the plane.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he grabbed his carry-on from the
dresser and walked into the bathroom. After a quick shower he
redressed in gray pants and a black button-down shirt, the latter
hanging open as he walked into the living room, towel drying his
hair. He stopped short at the soft sound of the television coming
from the middle of the room. Dropping the towel away from his eyes he
was startled to see Sara sitting in the semi-dark, staring in the
general vicinity of his chest. Surprised, he fumbled with the small
buttons as she looked on in amusement.
"Hey, don't get dressed on my account." She was sitting on the couch,
her legs tucked up next to her. She had a bagel in one hand; a half
empty glass of orange juice sat on the coffee table.
Grissom slanted his eyes at her and took a seat on the couch as
well. "What are you watching?"
.
"Disney Information Network. Did you know as resort guests we are
allowed to enter the park an hour before non-resort visitors?" she
parroted. "It was our `zip-a-dee-doo-da tip-for-the-day.'"
"Oh, god." He grimaced. He watched her lick a bit of cream cheese off
her thumb. "Where did you get that?"
"They have a bar set up near the concierge desk. I brought you some
fruit and a cinnamon roll. It's on the counter."
"Thanks. Coffee?"
"Of course." She grinned at him. "It's there."
He got up and moved to the counter where he looked in the mug with an
odd expression. "What's in it?"
"Cream." She responded in an obvious tone.
"Why is it orange?"
"Hazelnut cream."
Grissom squinted at her. "Who uses that?"
"I do." She looked back at the television now, signaling the end of
their exchange. He brought his breakfast back to the table in front
of them and sat back down, either not noticing or not caring that her
sock-clad toes rested against his outer thigh. They watched in
interest as a promo for the Disney-MGM Studios on the screen. Sara
frowned. "That Tower of Terror ride looks more nauseating every time."
"Every time? How long have you been up?" He had been surprised to see
her awake as it was; she was exhausted the night before.
"A couple hours. I slept a lot on the plane." She added as if reading
his thoughts. She reached over and grabbed a piece of melon from his
plate, cringing as the people on TV plunged down the elevator shaft
for the fourth time. "Did you hear from the coroner?"
"They forwarded a message from the front desk right before I fell
asleep last night. He'll be sending a copy of the pathology findings
and the autopsy photos through email."
"We don't have to go to the lab?" Sara asked, surprised.
He nodded. "Not today at least. We're meeting Steve at eight inside
the park. The public will still be there, so he's taking us in
another way."
"Okay." She sat in thought for a moment. "I'm curious to get the
analysis on that black fiber we found. It's a heavy material; doesn't
seem to fit with what you'd normally find in that kind of setting."
"It's difficult to tell. My priority is the pine beetles right now.
If that body was transported we need to know how and when. It could
explain the fibers."
Sara stared at him. "Transported? What about the spatter?"
"That's why we need to see those autopsy reports." He reminded. He
looked at her black tank top, sweatpants, and her hair, pulled back
into a ponytail. "Get dressed."
She looked confused now. "Why? You just said we were free until
tonight."
"We are."
"You have got to be kidding me."
He merely looked at her, an uncharacteristic grin spread across his
face.
"No, Grissom." Sara looked at the façade of the old hotel in front of
her. "I hate this ride."
"You've never been on this ride." He tossed back.
She crossed her arms in front of her. "I'm not going. I'll wait." She
searched the area behind her with her eyes. "There's an ice cream
cart over there. How about you go and I'll get us some." Her eyebrows
lifted hopefully.
"No."
"Coasters are your thing. I never have liked them." Sara stated,
already turning toward the exit.
"This isn't a roller coaster. This is a freefall."
"You're not helping your case."
Grissom shook his head. "Just once. I'll even buy you a t-shirt."
"Like I'll want to be reminded of this." She regarded him; an
enthusiastic Grissom was a rare Grissom these days. "Okay, but I
reserve the right to leave if I change my mind."
"You won't." He put a hand at her back and directed her forward
through the fog and crumbled brick that framed the entrance to the
attraction. His light touch turned into a push as a series of loud
screams caused her to stop and look at the source of the noise nearly
thirteen stories up. "That's just an effect." He lied.
The skepticism on her face was evident as they weaved through the
queue and the tangled vines that surrounded it. They passed a stone-
faced cast member in a bellhop uniform as they entered the lobby. The
décor was 1930s in style; the attention to detail was impressive. Or
it would have been, Sara thought, if the prospect of her imminent
death weren't weighing so heavily on her mind.
They followed approximately fifty other guests through a large door
into another room. It looked like a small lobby from any old hotel;
books lined the walls and the light came mainly from the antique
sconces spread throughout the room. After a warning to stand clear of
the doors as they closed the room fell into darkness. Crowded by the
group of people around them Sara leaned into Grissom slightly.
"I'd really rather not..." A video screen flickering on in front of
them cut her off. The Twilight Zone theme played as a Rod Serling
sound-alike told the story of the Hollywood Tower Hotel; it was a
magnet for the rich and famous in 1939 Hollywood until a tragic
accident. The screen showed a young family stepping into an elevator
never to be seen again. The voiceover continued.
"This, as you may recognize, is a maintenance service elevator still
in operation, waiting for you. We invite you, if you dare, to step
aboard because in tonight's episode, you are the star. And this
elevator travels directly to...The Twilight Zone."
Sara rolled her eyes as the doors on the opposite side of the room
opened. "This is silly. Maybe we could call Steve and see if we can't
get those dummies early. You like dummies, if I recall. I also
remember..."
"That you've been fighting me for the last twenty minutes on this
ride? If once we get off this thing you've still maintained your
excessively inordinate interest in reenacting this crime scene we'll
place the call. I just can't help feeling you're trying to get out of
this."
He could feel, rather than see, her glare. He watched her stride
ahead of him and nearly knock over an expressionless cast member
asking how many people would be traveling with them. "Two." She
answered, and then turned back to Grissom with an empowered look. He
merely shrugged and took his spot behind her as the elevator doors
opened. He saw her shoulders straighten as she walked to the back
row. She started to slide in when she suddenly stopped in the narrow
aisle.
"Too late now, Sara."
"I know." She said with a hint of defiance. " I just don't want to
sit on the outside."
He nodded in concession and slid across to the far side of the bench,
his right shoulder against the metal grate. He felt the warmth of her
body next to his as she pressed against him to allow room for the
large man who was sitting next to her now. Grissom reached forward
and pulled the bar in front of them over their laps. Sara looked
stricken when she realized their traveling companion's size had left
almost a foot between her body and the padded restraint. "Grissom!"
She hissed in his ear.
"It's okay. The bar is mainly there for you to hold onto anyway." He
attempted to reassure her, but she had the appearance of a snared
rabbit. The bellhop at the front of the elevator spoke again.
"Are there any questions? No? Well, if you need anything, just
scream. We hope you enjoy your stay here, and do feel free to 'drop'
in again." And with that the doors closed and the elevator was
immersed in complete darkness as it started to ascend. Sara's body
tensed and both of her hands grasped the lap bar. After several
seconds the car lurched to a stop and the doors opened again.
Suddenly they were in an expanding hallway, the room stretching as a
door appeared at the opposite end. The scene shifted into a vestibule
and an odd odor filled the air.
"What's that smell?" Grissom asked Sara, but her attention was on the
five ghostly images materializing in front of them. They seemed to
beckon the passengers toward them as an inexplicable breeze blew
through the elevator shaft. Then the corridor and its occupants
vanished. The window was the only thing that remained; it hung in the
emptiness before moving toward their car where its image shattered,
the scene transforming into a sea of stars.
Grissom watched at Sara's face transformed from a look of fear to a
sort of fascinated apprehension. It quickly changed back to fear as
the doors slammed closed and the elevator sped upward; Rod Serling's
voice filling the chamber again.
"One stormy night long ago, five people stepped through the door of
an elevator and into a nightmare. That door is opening once again,
and this time, it's opening for you."
"Grissom, if we live I'm never speaking to you again." The feel of
her fingers wrapped around his lower thigh undermined her words. The
doors opened once again and her grip tightened. He squeezed her hand,
partly to reassure her and also because even with her short nails the
pain was intense.
The elevator moved sideways now, shifting heavily onto another track.
It moved slowly into another dark hallway where several images
flashed back at them. The ghosts. The window. The formula for E=MC^2
flashed by before dissolving into nothingness. They could see
themselves reflected in the pupil of a giant eye as it floated past.
Her hand reached for his again as the car lurched into the drop zone,
all sound having stopped.
Grissom was only aware of her breathing as the elevator hung
suspended for nearly ten seconds. The air became very hot, as a
blanket of stars appeared only to fade back into darkness. Just when
the anticipation became unbearable the seat seemed to fall out from
underneath them.
The screams of the other passengers dominated the moment as the
elevator plunged seven stories, creating a sense of weightlessness
before they were pulled back up to the top of the shaft. The window
opened and Sara opened her eyes long enough to see the view of the
rest of the park; the sight of the Mickey water tower providing a
tranquil contrast to her own mental state. A bright flash went off
and she was taken by surprise as they plunged down again. In the back
of her mind she was aware of regretting having taken the seat next to
the burly man on her other side; the front of her mind was focused on
no longer feeling the bench beneath her. Although she knew it was
irrational, she was convinced that Grissom's left arm was the only
barrier between her and the concrete floor nearly 100 feet below.
Two smaller, slower drops ensued before she felt the car stabilize
and come to a stop, an electronic hum signifying that they were once
again back on the track. They felt a soft thud as the elevator rested
in what appeared to be the hotel basement. The lights came back on
and Rod spoke once again.
"A warm welcome back to those of you who made it, and a friendly word
of warning; something you won't find in any guidebook. The next time
you check into a deserted hotel on the dark side of Hollywood, make
sure you know just what kind of vacancy you're filling...or you may
find yourself a permanent resident of...The Twilight Zone."
Grissom looked sideways at Sara who stared back, her breathing still
shallow. "Do you hate me?" He asked, looking legitimately concerned.
"Yes." She responded, deadpan. Their eyes met for several seconds
until her lips finally turned upward. Grissom smiled back and they
held the gaze for several seconds before Sara stood on shaky legs.
She wobbled a bit as they descended the steps into the unloading
area; Grissom rested a hand on her shoulder briefly.
"You enjoyed it, didn't you?" He knew he was pressing his luck.
"I already forgave you, Grissom. I'd like to keep it that way."
He nodded. "Fair enough." He paused a moment. "I'll be right back.
Why don't you go into the gift shop?"
"Okay" She answered, assuming he needed the restroom and was
surprised that she didn't. As she walked into the shop Sara was
confronted with rows of merchandise. She was looking at a Hollywood
Tower Hotel bathrobe in amusement when Grissom returned, a bag in
hand.
"What's that?" He hadn't purchased anything in the gift store; she
would have seen him.
He pulled a folder out of the plastic and flipped it open. He watched
her face as she realized what it was.
"You didn't."
He shrugged.
Sara looked at the photo, biting her lip to keep the laughter at bay.
He had purchased the picture from their ride. She immediately found
the back row. Grissom looked completely expressionless and appeared
to be staring directly at the camera. She wasn't surprised that she
was barely visible; her brown hair covered her face, as she appeared
to bury herself into Grissom. "I can't believe you bought this."
"I thought the rest of the team might like to see it."
"They probably would; it's too bad that will never happen."
"Okay, Christmas card photo."
Sara shoved the picture back in the bag and smiled. She hadn't seen
Grissom this relaxed since shortly after she had first met him back
in San Francisco. "So, lunch?"
"You can eat already?"
She led the way.
---------------------------