Grissom steeled himself for another hard jostle, but suddenly the car backed off. His cell phone rang, and he quickly picked it up, "Grissom."
"Was that fun for you Grissom?"
He was filled with a helpless fury, "Yeah, better than the Ferris Wheel. Why did you stop?"
The Untouchable chuckled, "Because for right now, I'm just fucking with you. Just to show you how easily I can get to you. That when I do decide to do it, you won't even have a clue."
"You scared now Grissom?" the voice continued mockingly in his ear
"No, because I'm going to put your ass in jail." Grissom said
"Sure you are. Because you're the big, bad CSI agent. You can catch anyone. But really, you're just a pathetic loser. Does it make you feel better after you catch one of us? That it's okay that you failed your mother, Candice McIntyre-"
"Shut up." Grissom said, feeling weak and used up now
"Oh, did I hit a nerve? You sound testy." the Untouchable laughed, a hard and harsh sound
"No." Grissom said, lying through his teeth
"Oh, but I think I did. That's okay though Grissom, you won't feel bad for long."
Grissom drove back to the lab, and got out to examine the back of his car. It was a mess. He whistled low in his throat. His insurance agent wasn't going to be happy.
Nick, who apparently saw him pull in, jogged out to meet him.
"Hey Grissom, about that- Holy shit!"
Grissom glanced up, and he saw that Nick had noticed the car
"What the hell happened," Nick asked, shifting his focus from the car, to Grissom "Your head's bleeding again."
Grissom absently touched his head, and his fingers came away stained crimson. "It's a long story. But it knocked some things into focus. Come with me to talk to Dana Jackson."
This time, they got there safely. Dana Jackson's eyes, already red and swollen from crying over her dead niece, widened as she took in Grissom's battered appearance.
"Mr. Grissom, are you all right? Let me get you a towel for that." she said, hurrying off to another part of the house
"Come in, and make yourselves comfortable." she said over her shoulder
Nick sat, but Grissom remained standing, not wanting to smear blood anywhere
"So tell me, what happened?" Nick asked again
"A friend of mine decided to rear end me." Grissom said simply
Now it was Nick's eyes that widened, "Was it that creepy guy that called you from the murder scene?"
Wincing, Grissom nodded
"Geez, Grissom, you better get Brass on-"
"He's already been talking with me." Grissom interrupted
Dana Jackson hurried back in the room with a towel, a icepack, and some bandages in her arms.
"Mr. Grissom, what happened to you? You look awful. You're going to have a terrible bruise." she said, motioning for him to sit on a easy chair
"It's okay, I better not." Grissom said, motioning towards his head
"Oh it's all right. Nothing can hurt that chair." she said, pushing him gently towards it
He reluctantly sat, "Mrs. Jackson, I have another question for you about Natalie."
Dana Jackson paused for a moment, pain slashing across her features, but then continued to tend to Grissom's head. "Okay, go ahead."
"Did she go to a mechanic's anytime before her death?"
The question seemed to surprise the woman, and Grissom didn't blame her. It was a standard question into a murder investigation.
"No, she rarely used her car. The college was nearby, so she usually walked…" Dana trailed off, "Why?"
Grissom frowned, "We found some grease under Natalie's fingernails, and it proved to be oil."
Dana Jackson stood still for a moment, concentrating, "No, she hasn't been to a mechanic for at least four years."
Grissom sighed, disappointment flowing through him, "Well thank you for your time, and for helping me."
She smiled, but tears were flowing down her face, "You're welcome."
As they left the Jackson home, Grissom frowned, "Now we're back to square one."
Nick glanced at Grissom, concerned, "And you're running out of time."