Torn
By: Manigault
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Marc Thompson shifted nervously from foot to foot, hands jammed into his pockets, his eyes red and swollen. Grissom felt his throat constrict as he stared at the pitiable sight. He remembered the exuberant teenager who dashed in and out of the room at the Simmons Residence, a backpack slung carelessly over his shoulder, a far cry from the boy staring anxiously back at him from his open doorway.
"May I come in, sir?"
Grissom realized that he was staring, but he did not budge as his mind whirled around the possible reasons Marc Thompson would be standing on his doorstep; and none of them sat well with him.
Marc rocked back on his heels and tried to look past Grissoms shoulder. "I need to speak with your girlfriend."
"My what?" Grissom could only imagine the flustered expression on his face.
"Your girlfriend." Marc repeated. "I know that she is here because I followed her; I've been sort of following her for a couple of days."
"You have been.-?" Grissom was at a loss for the appropriate words. This Marc Thompson was stalking Sara. His Sara? "You have been sort of following my girlfriend?"
"I…It wasn't like that." Marc felt a red flush creep up his neck. "I'm not like him."
Narrowing his eyes in a contemplative way, Grissom was on the verge of pressing the issue of whom Marc denied being like, when he felt a warm hand press against the middle of his back.
"Marc Thompson?" Sara marveled as she peered around Grissom. "Come inside." She nudged Grissom to open the door wide enough for Marc to step into the room, receiving a disproving look as he did so.
"What brings you here, Marc? How did you find us?" Sara led the boy to the couch where she sat beside him, concern lining her face as she studied the boy's appearance.
Grissom stood nearby, his eyes fastened on the scene before him.
Marc leaned his elbows on his knees, his chin directed towards his feet, as he struggled to explain why he wanted to speak with Sara and how he had found her here. He told them his parents believed him to be spending the week with a friend, and that he had borrowed his friend's car.
"I know that my brother, Scott, is wanted by the police." He began, his eyes welling with unshed tears as he sorted out his thoughts. "I know those Feds think that he is guilty of killing some girl, but I'm sure that he didn't do anything."
"You said that you were not like him." Grissom pressed. "You must know something about your brother that would cause you to make that comment."
Marc hid his face in his hands as he tried to keep the sobs at bay. Sara gently rubbed his shoulder, exchanging worried looks with Grissom. They gave him several minutes to compose himself before Sara asked the critical question.
"What did you discover about Bryan, um, Scott, that made you suspect him?" Sara asked with a gentleness that appeared to calm Marc somewhat.
When he did not respond, Grissom walked to his phone, saying as he did so, "I think that I should call Brass."
"No!" Marc jumped up and turned desperate eyes to Sara, who had stood with him. "I don't want to talk to the police. I just want to help my brother."
"Where is Scott?" Grissom asked, turning away from the phone.
"I don't know." Marc settled back onto the couch and this time leaned back, his eyes squeezed shut. "I'm not sure." He amended, and then added in an almost detached voice. "I call him Scott because that's the name he likes to use for his photography business. Like a penname, you know. It's really his middle name. He said that after his sister was accidentally killed he couldn't bear to hear that name Bryan again. It reminded him too much of Brynna."
"What is it, Marc?" Sara asked touching the boys arm. "What made you come here today?"
"I read the paper this morning." Marc told them as his voice cracked. "I saw the pictures of those other girls and I recognized them."
"You recognized them." Grissom repeated, feeling a weight shift onto his shoulders. He knew that Brass should be here, that they should be in the police department taking this boys statement. "How?"
Marc opened his eyes, but when he spoke, he looked at Sara. "I've seen pictures at his place. Pictures of those girls and others. He keeps them in a box in his closet, and he doesn't know that I've seen them. I was looking for-." He flushed again. "Something and stumbled over them a few months ago." He took a ragged breath and continued. "I knew that Scott was following those women from the shots he took, but I figured that he was doing some private investigating on the side. I never dreamed it could be anything else. I still don't believe it."
"Then why did you follow Sara here? Why tell us any of this now?"
"I thought that you could help him." He kept his eyes on Sara. "I didn't like that Gibbes woman or her partner that came to our house. She has already decided that Scott is guilty."
"We want to help Scott," Sara told him. "If you know where he is then we will talk to him, try to understand what is going on."
Marc did not blink as he contemplated her words, and when he spoke, the words knocked the air from Grissoms lungs. "He was following you. Taking pictures. I was with him the day after you left our house. He told me he was curious about what the police wanted to talk with my mom about and he was going to find out without anyone knowing. He acted like it was no big thing and I believed him, although I thought it was very weird."
"So you began tailing him?" Sara pressed gently. The idea of this man tailing her, taking pictures, repulsed her, making her stomach turn over several times. The memory of being followed in the hospital, and on several other occasions flashed through her mind and she cringed thinking of the man that had stalked Nick. She reprimanded herself for not being more cautious.
"I don't know why." Marc wiped at he corner of his eye. "But after those people came to our home and turned it upside down and asked a million questions, mostly about Scott, I started wondering."
"Does he know that you were following him?" Sara asked.
"I don't think so." Marc replied. "I tried calling him this morning, but he didn't answer his phone so I went by his place to see him in person. I wanted to ask him about those pictures and give him a chance to explain. He wasn't there."
Grissom tilted his head slightly, "You must doubt his innocence or you would not have made that earlier comment and you wouldn't be here now." His irritation on being dragged back into this case warred with his desire to understand the truth and locate the main suspect. He was also intrigued by Marcs' use of referring to the Byrnna murder as accidental and wanted to question him further about his knowledge of the event. However, another question was weighing on his mind.
"When was the last time you heard from your dad, Marc?" The question startled both the boy and Sara, the latter whom recovered swiftly.
Marc shrugged, "I spoke to him on my birthday last month." He was troubled by the question, trying to puzzle it in with the rest of the situation. "Why?"
"I know that the murder of your half sister disturbed him deeply," Grissom watched the boy's reactions carefully. "Did you ever discuss it with him or with your half brother?"
"Not really." Marc appeared to be on the verge of another meltdown so Sara offered him a glass of water, hoping it would give him time to compose himself. He thanked her before clarifying his answer to Grissom. "My dad moves around a lot so I don't know how to reach him. When he calls me on my birthdays or out of the blue, he doesn't talk much about himself. Scott says that is the way he was when he was a kid, it is the way he is; traveling bug."
Sara handed him a glass of iced water then settled back on the couch beside him. "That must be hard for you Marc. I'm sorry that you have experienced so much."
"It's weird." Marc agreed. "My parents were so happy until four years ago, and then we find out about my half sister and he goes crazy on us. Takes off and then demands a divorce. My mom cried for over a year before meeting my step dad. She refuses to talk about my dad anymore, but she and Scott were close."
"So you would visit Scott and that is when you would speak with your dad?" Sara asked. "You would talk with Scott about him and everything else that was going on in your life?"
Marc rubbed his palms around the sweaty glass, took a sip of the water, and stared at the ice bobbing around the top. "We talked about everything," He whispered. "Scott told me that he was with Byrnna when she fell and went into premature labor." He looked up at their stunned faces. "He didn't kill her; only tried to save her and her baby." He silently pleaded for them to understand. "They were camping and she insisted on climbing up a steep rock when she lost her footing. She begged him to take her baby. He wouldn't do it so she took a knife out of her bag and slid it into her chest. He had no choice, but he couldn't save them both."
Sara took the shaking glass from Marc, placed it on the table, and then moved around to stand beside Grissom who was somewhat shocked by this turn of events. He was processing all this new information in his mind, shifting the evidence in his memory to place it into a logical order.
"Why didn't he go for help?" Sara asked.
"He did not want to leave her and besides he thought that nobody would believe that he didn't stab her and cut out the baby. He stayed there with her for a few days, until the baby stopped crying. Then he took everything and left. He called our dad who met him in a motel and showed him the baby."
"The baby is alive?" Sara was fearful of the answer, but she had to ask it.
"She was alive, barely. My dad didn't want anyone to know what had happened. He said that it could ruin Scott's chances in medical school if anyone knew what he had attempted to do and failed. He told Scott that it was his fault that he couldn't save both Brynna and her baby. He was so angry that they had been camping when Brynna was so pregnant, but they always went camping together and Brynna insisted." Marc was determined that they knew it was not Scotts fault that Brynna had not made it or that Scott could not save her life.
"Your dad kept the baby and left town." Grissom reasoned. "But not until Brynna was found." He was unaware of his use of first name, fitting the pieces of the puzzle together in a rough manner.
"Scott kept her until our dad took her away from him and vanished. Scott told me that our dad was consumed with guilt about not staying with them as kids and not helping Byrnna when she was grown and had come to him for help when she found out she was expecting."
It was possible that Marc had been fed a line by Scott, for whatever reasons known only to him. Grissom did not think so. It made sense in a disturbing way that filled in questions he had during the initial investigation. He felt that it was a true confession by way of the brother.
"When did your brother share this information with you?" Grissom pressed.
Marc looked at them through blurry eyes. "When my dad left I was angry. Scott took off soon after that and my mom was always crying. I got into some trouble and when Scott came back, he told me that he had a secret that I should never share with anyone else."
"You have done the right thing by telling us, Marc." Sara tried to sound reassuring, but her heart broke for this vulnerable boy. He knew that he was right to share the information but she was certain he would never get over the guilt he felt for betraying his brother's confidence. She knew that kind of guilt only too well for comfort.
"You said that you think that you know where your brother is; can you tell us, Marc?" Grissom watched the emotions play over the boys face; guilt, uncertainty, fear.
"I think that he may have gone out to the desert to the place where Byrnna was hurt." Marc turned to Sara. "He liked to go out there to think."
Sara pulled on Grissom's arm to get his attention. "Will you excuse us for a minute, Marc? I need to talk with Grissom."
Grissom allowed himself to be pulled into the kitchen. Sara obviously wanted to be certain Marc did not get it into his head to sprint out of the town home if left alone. Speaking in low voices, they discussed their options; go with the boy to the first crime scene or take the boy to the police department and let them sort it out. Either way they were screwed.
"It's your call, Sara."
"We try to locate Bryan Scott Thompson."