Chapter 16
'Sara, is there anything else you want to tell me?' Dr. Felton asked.
'No, I just.my throat is really dry, could you get me a drink?'
'Sure.' Felton stood up and walked to the other side of the room where there was a jug of water.
Sara quickly walked over to the door, gently she placed her hand on the door handle and pressed it down, it was locked. Damn Felton's back was still turned. Sara had realized that Felton had a skin condition, just like her stalker, and now the door was locked, no psych in their right mind would lock a door. As she scanned the room for another door she saw a picture on his desk. It was of her, as a teenager. How the hell does he have that? She started to hyperventilate. He was going to turn around soon, it was now or never. She grabbed the oriental vase that was sitting on the filing cabinet and with one swift motion she bought it down on his head. She felt the jolt that went through his body. The glass water jug in his hand fell to the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces. Felton's body followed and hit the floor much more heavily than Sara would have anticipated.
Sara stood over the body for a few moments before she realized what she had done, what if it wasn't him? What if he woke up? Sara bent down over the body to see if there was a pulse, as she searched for a pulse on his neck, some skin cells came off and floated to the floor. This doesn't mean he's a killer. I know Greg said that the stalker would have a skin disease, some kind of calcium deficiency. But it couldn't be him, a psychologist, a person who all of them, Sara and Grissom included, trusted. The man who helped Nick recover from the effects of Nigel Crane. That same man could not be the one who had come into her apartment, gone through her belongings, drugged her, and found out about her past. It couldn't be the same person.
Grissom was pacing around his house contemplating what Sara was doing. He desperately wanted to go to her, but he knew he couldn't just walk into a meeting, especially one with a psychiatrist. He decided to go for a drive to clear his mind. He grabbed his keys and walked out, and left his gun on the kitchen bench. Grissom walked towards the Tahoe parked in his driveway and got in. He had just turned on the ignition when he saw Sara's mobile phone on the passenger seat. He couldn't help but smile, at least now he had an excuse to go see her.
Sara reached for her mobile phone to call Grissom. It wasn't there, neither was her gun. She had left her gun at home, she didn't want it near her. But her mobile had been with her when she left Grissom's place. She had never lost her mobile in her life, and finally when she really needed it, she had no idea where it was. Think Sara, think. You can't get out of his office because you're not strong enough to break down the door and you don't have your gun. No-one will hear you scream because psychiatric facilities are soundproofed to maintain confidentiality. You can't call Grissom because you don't have your mobile phone..but this is an office, it's got to have a phone somewhere.
Sara swiftly searched the room with her eyes and found one in the most obvious place, his desk. She walked over and grabbed the phone and put it to her ear. No dial tone. Sara followed the phone cord and saw that it had been cut. He had been planning this. Sara slammed her hand down on the desk. It was an old desk and the force from her hand made it tremor. Sara looked down at where her hand had landed only to see that her small hand was resting on a file marked 'S. Sidle' Gently she opened it and gasped. Holding the file she backed away from the desk and slumped into the chair she had been occupying earlier. She looked at the first sheet, it was a psych evaluation from San Francisco. It was compulsory for her to bring one from San Francisco to Vegas, but that had only been one. There were countless tests. Probably all the ones that she had ever taken. How had he gotten these, they're confidential. Then there were pictures of her at her old office, ones that had everyone else in them drawn over or cut out. There was one that she recognized. It was a personal one of her and Justin, it had sat in a frame at the apartment they had shared. She always assumed that it had been broken in one of his rages.God, he had been following me then. Justin had pen lines drawn over his face, Sara recognized a slight bruise forming just above her neckline. She threw the pictures on the floor in disgust. She turned her attention to the next page, it was written in what she presumed to be Felton's handwriting. She quietly read it to herself and started sobbing softly.
6/7/1997 My dearest Sara, didn't come in to work today. I knew getting involved with that cop wouldn't be good for her. That bastard is just the same as his brother, a murderer. She's been sick a lot since they got together. Sara doesn't talk to me at work because she is scared her feelings for me will come through. We must stay professional. We pretend as if we don't even notice each other. We only admire each other from a distance. She's only with Justin because she doesn't know what real love is. But if she allowed herself to love me.she would be happy.
6/8/1997 Sara came to work today. She looked sad. She probably missed me. I wish I could at least do the psych evaluations with her. I wish I was head psychologist, not some trainee. I know she would prefer to do them with me than Dr. Rosenbaum. It's probably for the best though, if I did her evaluations, in a closed room, we might not be able to control ourselves.
6/9/1997 I saw the most awful thing today. I went into the prep. Room because I had left a file in there, I had been in there watching Sara from the storeroom, I shouldn't have been in there. When I went back to retrieve the file, I heard people coming so I quickly went back into the storeroom, but I left the door open ever so slightly, just like I had when Sara had been there earlier. I was so happy when I saw Sara enter, but she was followed by him, Justin. The man who dismissed my mother's death as a suicide. He spun her around to face him and started yelling at her. She tried to pacify him, she did. She's so understanding and graceful. But he wouldn't listen, he hit her. Again and again and again. He wouldn't stop. She hit the floor and he continued to hit her. Then he used his feet. He put his entire body behind the force of the blows. Sara curled up in pain. She was still pleading with him, asking him to stop. He wouldn't listen, he's evil. He doesn't love her, but I do, and she loves me. Eventually he just stopped and walked out. Sara took a several minutes before standing up. She was in pain, but she was being strong, my Sara is so strong. She puts up with this so that we can be together, she's only biding time, before we can be together.
Sara turned the page over, only to find there were an immeasurable amount of entries about her. They documented Felton breaking into Justin's and her apartment, him following up on the way she worked her cases, the times he had sat in his car watching them fight through the window. He had seen everything. What Sara found more disturbing were the entries about what he did when he was alone. She shuddered.
Sara scanned over these diary entries briefly, she couldn't bare to read them. From what she gathered, he had been a psych trainee at San Francisco, then he followed her when she came to Las Vegas. He had come up with a fictional relationship between them.
Then she came across pictures of her from Vegas. Every case, every week, he's known where I've been. she found photos of her from crime scenes, at the office, he had taken pictures of her at home through the window. Then there were the photos of her and Grissom, and the diary entries that accompanied them.
9/12/02 She's staying at her friend's place, Gil Grissom. He wants something more than platonic, but I know she only cares about him as a friend. I am the only one she loves. That's the problem with working for the same organization, we have to hide our love. Soon we will be away from here, away from those appalling people she works with. They hinder her, she would be so much better without them, all of them. We're going to go far away from here, maybe to Boston, I know she likes Boston and we'll leave all of this behind. If any of them try and stop her, I'll kill them. I'll do anything for my Sara.
Sara's whole body was trembling with disgust. "At her friend's place, Gil Grissom" ". more than platonic" He knew about Gil, what would he do to him? "I'll kill them" Sara stopped worrying about her own life and realized that the people who were the closest thing that she'd ever had to family were at risk too. "Our love.my Sara" The only person who should be calling me that is Grissom, not that maniac on the floor. Oh shit, he's still there, he could wake up any minute, I have to get out of here
Grissom sat at the traffic lights wondering whether he had made the right decision in going to see her. She did leave her mobile behind, but it could be counter-productive to interrupt the session with Dr. Felton Suddenly Grissom realized that the blaring sound was coming from the horn of the car behind him. He put up his hand in a "sorry" gesture and went straight ahead. He was on his way to the CSI building.
'No, I just.my throat is really dry, could you get me a drink?'
'Sure.' Felton stood up and walked to the other side of the room where there was a jug of water.
Sara quickly walked over to the door, gently she placed her hand on the door handle and pressed it down, it was locked. Damn Felton's back was still turned. Sara had realized that Felton had a skin condition, just like her stalker, and now the door was locked, no psych in their right mind would lock a door. As she scanned the room for another door she saw a picture on his desk. It was of her, as a teenager. How the hell does he have that? She started to hyperventilate. He was going to turn around soon, it was now or never. She grabbed the oriental vase that was sitting on the filing cabinet and with one swift motion she bought it down on his head. She felt the jolt that went through his body. The glass water jug in his hand fell to the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces. Felton's body followed and hit the floor much more heavily than Sara would have anticipated.
Sara stood over the body for a few moments before she realized what she had done, what if it wasn't him? What if he woke up? Sara bent down over the body to see if there was a pulse, as she searched for a pulse on his neck, some skin cells came off and floated to the floor. This doesn't mean he's a killer. I know Greg said that the stalker would have a skin disease, some kind of calcium deficiency. But it couldn't be him, a psychologist, a person who all of them, Sara and Grissom included, trusted. The man who helped Nick recover from the effects of Nigel Crane. That same man could not be the one who had come into her apartment, gone through her belongings, drugged her, and found out about her past. It couldn't be the same person.
Grissom was pacing around his house contemplating what Sara was doing. He desperately wanted to go to her, but he knew he couldn't just walk into a meeting, especially one with a psychiatrist. He decided to go for a drive to clear his mind. He grabbed his keys and walked out, and left his gun on the kitchen bench. Grissom walked towards the Tahoe parked in his driveway and got in. He had just turned on the ignition when he saw Sara's mobile phone on the passenger seat. He couldn't help but smile, at least now he had an excuse to go see her.
Sara reached for her mobile phone to call Grissom. It wasn't there, neither was her gun. She had left her gun at home, she didn't want it near her. But her mobile had been with her when she left Grissom's place. She had never lost her mobile in her life, and finally when she really needed it, she had no idea where it was. Think Sara, think. You can't get out of his office because you're not strong enough to break down the door and you don't have your gun. No-one will hear you scream because psychiatric facilities are soundproofed to maintain confidentiality. You can't call Grissom because you don't have your mobile phone..but this is an office, it's got to have a phone somewhere.
Sara swiftly searched the room with her eyes and found one in the most obvious place, his desk. She walked over and grabbed the phone and put it to her ear. No dial tone. Sara followed the phone cord and saw that it had been cut. He had been planning this. Sara slammed her hand down on the desk. It was an old desk and the force from her hand made it tremor. Sara looked down at where her hand had landed only to see that her small hand was resting on a file marked 'S. Sidle' Gently she opened it and gasped. Holding the file she backed away from the desk and slumped into the chair she had been occupying earlier. She looked at the first sheet, it was a psych evaluation from San Francisco. It was compulsory for her to bring one from San Francisco to Vegas, but that had only been one. There were countless tests. Probably all the ones that she had ever taken. How had he gotten these, they're confidential. Then there were pictures of her at her old office, ones that had everyone else in them drawn over or cut out. There was one that she recognized. It was a personal one of her and Justin, it had sat in a frame at the apartment they had shared. She always assumed that it had been broken in one of his rages.God, he had been following me then. Justin had pen lines drawn over his face, Sara recognized a slight bruise forming just above her neckline. She threw the pictures on the floor in disgust. She turned her attention to the next page, it was written in what she presumed to be Felton's handwriting. She quietly read it to herself and started sobbing softly.
6/7/1997 My dearest Sara, didn't come in to work today. I knew getting involved with that cop wouldn't be good for her. That bastard is just the same as his brother, a murderer. She's been sick a lot since they got together. Sara doesn't talk to me at work because she is scared her feelings for me will come through. We must stay professional. We pretend as if we don't even notice each other. We only admire each other from a distance. She's only with Justin because she doesn't know what real love is. But if she allowed herself to love me.she would be happy.
6/8/1997 Sara came to work today. She looked sad. She probably missed me. I wish I could at least do the psych evaluations with her. I wish I was head psychologist, not some trainee. I know she would prefer to do them with me than Dr. Rosenbaum. It's probably for the best though, if I did her evaluations, in a closed room, we might not be able to control ourselves.
6/9/1997 I saw the most awful thing today. I went into the prep. Room because I had left a file in there, I had been in there watching Sara from the storeroom, I shouldn't have been in there. When I went back to retrieve the file, I heard people coming so I quickly went back into the storeroom, but I left the door open ever so slightly, just like I had when Sara had been there earlier. I was so happy when I saw Sara enter, but she was followed by him, Justin. The man who dismissed my mother's death as a suicide. He spun her around to face him and started yelling at her. She tried to pacify him, she did. She's so understanding and graceful. But he wouldn't listen, he hit her. Again and again and again. He wouldn't stop. She hit the floor and he continued to hit her. Then he used his feet. He put his entire body behind the force of the blows. Sara curled up in pain. She was still pleading with him, asking him to stop. He wouldn't listen, he's evil. He doesn't love her, but I do, and she loves me. Eventually he just stopped and walked out. Sara took a several minutes before standing up. She was in pain, but she was being strong, my Sara is so strong. She puts up with this so that we can be together, she's only biding time, before we can be together.
Sara turned the page over, only to find there were an immeasurable amount of entries about her. They documented Felton breaking into Justin's and her apartment, him following up on the way she worked her cases, the times he had sat in his car watching them fight through the window. He had seen everything. What Sara found more disturbing were the entries about what he did when he was alone. She shuddered.
Sara scanned over these diary entries briefly, she couldn't bare to read them. From what she gathered, he had been a psych trainee at San Francisco, then he followed her when she came to Las Vegas. He had come up with a fictional relationship between them.
Then she came across pictures of her from Vegas. Every case, every week, he's known where I've been. she found photos of her from crime scenes, at the office, he had taken pictures of her at home through the window. Then there were the photos of her and Grissom, and the diary entries that accompanied them.
9/12/02 She's staying at her friend's place, Gil Grissom. He wants something more than platonic, but I know she only cares about him as a friend. I am the only one she loves. That's the problem with working for the same organization, we have to hide our love. Soon we will be away from here, away from those appalling people she works with. They hinder her, she would be so much better without them, all of them. We're going to go far away from here, maybe to Boston, I know she likes Boston and we'll leave all of this behind. If any of them try and stop her, I'll kill them. I'll do anything for my Sara.
Sara's whole body was trembling with disgust. "At her friend's place, Gil Grissom" ". more than platonic" He knew about Gil, what would he do to him? "I'll kill them" Sara stopped worrying about her own life and realized that the people who were the closest thing that she'd ever had to family were at risk too. "Our love.my Sara" The only person who should be calling me that is Grissom, not that maniac on the floor. Oh shit, he's still there, he could wake up any minute, I have to get out of here
Grissom sat at the traffic lights wondering whether he had made the right decision in going to see her. She did leave her mobile behind, but it could be counter-productive to interrupt the session with Dr. Felton Suddenly Grissom realized that the blaring sound was coming from the horn of the car behind him. He put up his hand in a "sorry" gesture and went straight ahead. He was on his way to the CSI building.