Catherine was scared. And she wasn't a woman who spooked easily.

"Grissom this is serious. This freak has already murdered two women. What's to stop him from doing the same to you?" she asked, deeply concerned

Grissom didn't answer; he was too busy studying the photographs of the dead women

"Grissom!" Catherine half-yelled, concern sharpening her voice, making it harder than she meant it to be

Finally he glanced up, "I heard every word you said Catherine."

Catherine began to answer, but knew it was a waste of breath, and settled for throwing her hands helplessly in the air

Detective Jim Brass was not scared, he had seen and heard many things in his years of duty, but he was concerned. Grissom was his friend, and this killer was sounding serious.

"Gris, how 'bout taking a few days off, and let the police watch your house." Jim suggested

Grissom didn't even glance up from the case file, "You know I can't do that."

"Why not?" Jim asked, sitting in a chair, his brown eyes intensely focused upon Grissom

"I'm not leaving in the middle of a case." Grissom said calmly

Finally, Jim let the frustration he was showing creep into his voice, "Damn it Grissom, I just want to keep you alive!"

Grissom stared at Jim for a moment, "Brass, everything will be okay. You don't have to worry about me."

Jim slumped a little in his chair, "Grissom, I know you hate being watched, your privacy is sacred to you, but can't you just sacrifice it one time?"

Grissom sat a little straighter in his chair, "It's not about that. It's about the case, you should know that."

After a few moments of arguing and lots of heated glares, Jim finally gave up. Underneath his easy going exterior, Grissom had a touch of steel to him.

"Fine, but I'm going to keep a guard posted by here," he said wearily "And that's final!"

"Whatever you say Jim." Grissom stood, and headed for the door

"Where are you going?" Jim asked worriedly

"Talk to Dana Jackson." Grissom said over his shoulder, and hurried out

Jim slumped even lower in his seat, "Stubborn ass!" he muttered to the empty room

Grissom breathed a sigh of relief, relieved to be outside, out from under Brass's intense scrutiny. And his accusations. Grissom hated to admit that Brass was partly right. He didn't want a cop following him everywhere. He was a private person, no one, not even Warrick, Sara, Nick, or Catherine knew much about his life outside work.

Truth be told, he didn't have much of life. He had his books, insects, his crossword puzzles, and his work. That was about it. But it was his life, boring and simple as it might be, and he didn't want anyone intruding upon it.

He got into his car, and headed for the direction of Dana Jackson's house. He was halfway there when he noticed a plain black car following him. With such strong tinting on the windows, it was impossible to see the driver.

Grissom quickly made a hard left, in the opposite direction of Dana Jackson's house. The car followed. Grissom continued to maneuver the car wildly, trying to get away, but the black car stayed on his trail. Without warning, it suddenly sped forward, and rammed into the back of his car. Grissom slammed forward hard into the steering wheel, his recently stitched head exploding with pain.

But he couldn't just sit there, so he straightened, and yanked hard on the steering wheel. The car lurched to the side, and the black car followed.

Grissom felt something wet trickling down his forehead, and realized his head was bleeding again. He stepped harder on the gas.

But the black car did the same.

Grissom swallowed hard, how was he going to get out of this?