Title: Day After Day
Chapter: 6
Author: Evidence
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: We start out this chapter by going into the mind of Sara's kidnapper. Then we go back to Sara. Desire- good suggestion, I'll use four spaces to tell you when we have changed settings. Takes again for the reviews!
Police, he thought, what are they doing here. Do they know? He had to change; he had to act like someone without a secret. He couldn't be stopped, not now, he wasn't done yet. His plan wasn't concluded. He had to make her pay. Try not to be hostile, be polite. Maybe this has nothing to do with her. Maybe.
He answered the door with a smile, "I'm sorry, I was arguing with my cat."
Two men were at his doorway. One wore a gray suit and a badge. The other with graying curly hair had a black jacket on and was scanning his eyes over the property.
Jim Brass looked towards Grissom. "Well we want to talk to you about your cat. Mr. Mark Raymond?"
"Yes."
Brass motioned with his hand to the living room that showed between the man's body and the door. "May we come in?"
"Come in."
They entered his living room; Grissom looking more at the room that lay in front of them than Mr. Raymond.
"I'm Captain Brass with the Las Vegas Police Department. This is Gil Grissom from the Crime Lab."
Gil Grissom! He had heard her saying his name when he beat her. Was this her boyfriend? Did he suspect that he had his girl? From the Crime Lab, the words hit him suddenly and he couldn't suppress his shock. He worked with her. He had received the gifts that belonged to her.
"Mr. Raymond, is there a problem?" Brass asked.
"No, I just...I've heard Mr. Grissom's name before."
"Yeah, he's quite famous. I thinking of starting a fan club for him." Brass let out a laugh. "Mr. Raymond do you own a Calico cat?"
On cue, Callie appeared at his feet. "Yes, this is Callie."
"Callie? That's cute."
He shrugged his drooping shoulders. "My girlfriend named her."
"Your girlfriend? That wouldn't be Tracy Ducharme would it? The same one who has a restraining order against you?" Jim ventured a look at Grissom but his eyes were elsewhere.
"Yeah, I should have said ex-girlfriend. We broke up a few months ago." Keep your cool, he thought.
"Oh, where is she now?"
"Chicago. She's working on her masters at Northwestern." He was working hard to hide his inner thoughts and keep the charade up. Mark wanted to yell that she was with the guy she dumped him for. Some Philosophy graduate, a real prick.
Brass took out a notebook and scanned through it. "She petitioned the restraining order against you three months ago, correct."
Just shake your head; don't let him get to you.
"She said at the time you kept calling her, sending flowers, showing up at her work. Then you rammed your truck into her car."
"That's not true. It was an accident." Too bad she wasn't in it at the time, he thought.
"Do you mind if we look at the truck?" Brass's stare was penetrating.
Don't let them see it, they can't. "Why are you here?"
"You wouldn't happen to know a Sara Sidle would you?"
Don't show anything. "No, should I?"
"Well she's missing and we're just looking into a few leads."
"And I'm one of those leads?" Don't get angry.
"Like I said where checking out various leads." Brass looked at Grissom. Usually Grissom took part in interviews but he was mute with an odd expression on his face. "Do you have a job?"
"No, I'm currently unemployed. I was laid off just a few weeks ago."
"Oh, that's too bad." He turned to Grissom. "Anything you'd like to ask?"
"No," Grissom turned towards the door and began to leave.
"Well, we'll be in touch." Brass quickly followed.
They know, they must know. The fear was building inside of him. He had to get rid of her now. He couldn't wait. Grabbing his keys he checked for any sign of the intruders and left for the shack.
Brass shook his head. They were a few miles away from Mark Raymond's. "I can't believe you didn't say anything or take any samples. This guy could be a viable suspect."
"He's not a suspect, Jim, he's the one."
Brass nearly swerved the car into oncoming traffic. "Then why did we just leave him!"
Gil Grissom's eyes stayed focused on the road. The yellow lines dividing the traffic reminded him of the yellow brick road. "We need a warrant. If we ask too many questions he'll just...kill Sara."
"How can you be sure it's him?"
"The evidence. Raymond has mud on his boots and pant cuffs implying that he might have been in the woods earlier today. A forest would be a perfect place to hide someone. His face showed that he was searching for answers not telling us the truth. There are ten pictures in his living room. Two belong to his cat and the other eight appear to be of his ex-girlfriend. He's obsessed with her. For some reason he's got Sara." Grissom rubbed the back of his head with his hand. Sara was so close but if they pushed too hard they would never find her.
"It sounds like more gut talking than evidence." Jim was concerned about his friend. In the early years of their friendship they had not always seen eye to eye but after Jim moved back to homicide they were able to talk more freely. It was nice to have a buddy.
"I know that's why we need the warrant."
"I'll do the best I can."
Hold on Sara, Grissom thought, I'm coming for you.
The restraints that held her legs in place finally came undone. She laughed with relief. Moving was quite difficult. The strain of what she had endured and the punishment she had just put herself through had wore out her muscles. Sara knew that she needed to get up and moving. He had been gone so long. Maybe he was going to leave her there to die? She could only hope, in that case she would have plenty of time to escape.
Sara put her palms flat on the floor. She pushed herself up until her knees were bent. It took several tries but she eventually moved herself up so that she was kneeing on the ground, head straight in the air. Her arms were shaking. Sweat was sweeping through her shirt. Sara crawled this way to the door. She put her right hand against the mold-ridden wall and used it as support to try to stand. Her legs couldn't hold her and she went down hard. Catherine had not called her stubborn for nothing. She tried again and this time on wobbly legs opened the door.
It was early evening. Clouds had moved in. Darkness penetrated the woods around. It was a wonderful feeling to see the outdoors again, to breathe in their air. In the distance she could see the lights from various hotels. In her present condition it was going to be a rough journey. In order to avoid her kidnapper she would have to take a path through the dense woods. The night sky was not going to provide enough light for her to see. She couldn't give up now; she was so close to freedom.
Sara began going down the hill. She used saplings to grasp onto and felt her feet sliding from under her. She trudged along for what seemed to be hours although she could tell from the moon that not much time had elapsed.
She felt triumph. She had done it, she had escaped some psycho and she was going home. The first smile in weeks appeared on her face. Lost in these thoughts she never saw the root of an old tree. It was large and protruding from the ground. Sara tripped over it and felt herself falling forward. It was as if she was seeing a movie of her accident, she could see herself falling, hitting the ground hard. She tried to get up but her head throbbed and stars once again danced in front of her eyes. She tried to ignore the dancing stars lulling her into sleep. Get up, she thought. He'll be back soon, get up. The ballet in her head won over the words in her mind, Sara blacked out.
Mark Raymond pulled up next to the shack. At first he didn't notice the open door. He had grabbed both the knife and her gun from his trunk's glove compartment. He wasn't sure how he was going to kill her but he knew he had to do it. He had to get them off his back. He entered her prison and the reality of the situation hit him. She was gone!
Mark wasted no time rushing out of the shack and scanning the woods. He took from his truck a flashlight to see with. He would head through the trees and find her, playing the executioner. He'd leave her body their, let them find it. Which way to start?, he wondered. The he caught sight of broken branches. Mark moved closer and used the flashlight to see a clear path. Someone had stomped over these branches. He had her, his Tracy. He shook his head. No, this woman wasn't Tracy but she was a worthy substitute.
He proceeded down the path until he came upon something large lying on the ground. The flashlight proved his assumption: it was her. He decided then to use the knife, more intimate. Kneeling over her he thrust the knife into her. The eyes that were closed opened in a flash. He couldn't help but laugh.
To be continued...
Chapter: 6
Author: Evidence
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: We start out this chapter by going into the mind of Sara's kidnapper. Then we go back to Sara. Desire- good suggestion, I'll use four spaces to tell you when we have changed settings. Takes again for the reviews!
Police, he thought, what are they doing here. Do they know? He had to change; he had to act like someone without a secret. He couldn't be stopped, not now, he wasn't done yet. His plan wasn't concluded. He had to make her pay. Try not to be hostile, be polite. Maybe this has nothing to do with her. Maybe.
He answered the door with a smile, "I'm sorry, I was arguing with my cat."
Two men were at his doorway. One wore a gray suit and a badge. The other with graying curly hair had a black jacket on and was scanning his eyes over the property.
Jim Brass looked towards Grissom. "Well we want to talk to you about your cat. Mr. Mark Raymond?"
"Yes."
Brass motioned with his hand to the living room that showed between the man's body and the door. "May we come in?"
"Come in."
They entered his living room; Grissom looking more at the room that lay in front of them than Mr. Raymond.
"I'm Captain Brass with the Las Vegas Police Department. This is Gil Grissom from the Crime Lab."
Gil Grissom! He had heard her saying his name when he beat her. Was this her boyfriend? Did he suspect that he had his girl? From the Crime Lab, the words hit him suddenly and he couldn't suppress his shock. He worked with her. He had received the gifts that belonged to her.
"Mr. Raymond, is there a problem?" Brass asked.
"No, I just...I've heard Mr. Grissom's name before."
"Yeah, he's quite famous. I thinking of starting a fan club for him." Brass let out a laugh. "Mr. Raymond do you own a Calico cat?"
On cue, Callie appeared at his feet. "Yes, this is Callie."
"Callie? That's cute."
He shrugged his drooping shoulders. "My girlfriend named her."
"Your girlfriend? That wouldn't be Tracy Ducharme would it? The same one who has a restraining order against you?" Jim ventured a look at Grissom but his eyes were elsewhere.
"Yeah, I should have said ex-girlfriend. We broke up a few months ago." Keep your cool, he thought.
"Oh, where is she now?"
"Chicago. She's working on her masters at Northwestern." He was working hard to hide his inner thoughts and keep the charade up. Mark wanted to yell that she was with the guy she dumped him for. Some Philosophy graduate, a real prick.
Brass took out a notebook and scanned through it. "She petitioned the restraining order against you three months ago, correct."
Just shake your head; don't let him get to you.
"She said at the time you kept calling her, sending flowers, showing up at her work. Then you rammed your truck into her car."
"That's not true. It was an accident." Too bad she wasn't in it at the time, he thought.
"Do you mind if we look at the truck?" Brass's stare was penetrating.
Don't let them see it, they can't. "Why are you here?"
"You wouldn't happen to know a Sara Sidle would you?"
Don't show anything. "No, should I?"
"Well she's missing and we're just looking into a few leads."
"And I'm one of those leads?" Don't get angry.
"Like I said where checking out various leads." Brass looked at Grissom. Usually Grissom took part in interviews but he was mute with an odd expression on his face. "Do you have a job?"
"No, I'm currently unemployed. I was laid off just a few weeks ago."
"Oh, that's too bad." He turned to Grissom. "Anything you'd like to ask?"
"No," Grissom turned towards the door and began to leave.
"Well, we'll be in touch." Brass quickly followed.
They know, they must know. The fear was building inside of him. He had to get rid of her now. He couldn't wait. Grabbing his keys he checked for any sign of the intruders and left for the shack.
Brass shook his head. They were a few miles away from Mark Raymond's. "I can't believe you didn't say anything or take any samples. This guy could be a viable suspect."
"He's not a suspect, Jim, he's the one."
Brass nearly swerved the car into oncoming traffic. "Then why did we just leave him!"
Gil Grissom's eyes stayed focused on the road. The yellow lines dividing the traffic reminded him of the yellow brick road. "We need a warrant. If we ask too many questions he'll just...kill Sara."
"How can you be sure it's him?"
"The evidence. Raymond has mud on his boots and pant cuffs implying that he might have been in the woods earlier today. A forest would be a perfect place to hide someone. His face showed that he was searching for answers not telling us the truth. There are ten pictures in his living room. Two belong to his cat and the other eight appear to be of his ex-girlfriend. He's obsessed with her. For some reason he's got Sara." Grissom rubbed the back of his head with his hand. Sara was so close but if they pushed too hard they would never find her.
"It sounds like more gut talking than evidence." Jim was concerned about his friend. In the early years of their friendship they had not always seen eye to eye but after Jim moved back to homicide they were able to talk more freely. It was nice to have a buddy.
"I know that's why we need the warrant."
"I'll do the best I can."
Hold on Sara, Grissom thought, I'm coming for you.
The restraints that held her legs in place finally came undone. She laughed with relief. Moving was quite difficult. The strain of what she had endured and the punishment she had just put herself through had wore out her muscles. Sara knew that she needed to get up and moving. He had been gone so long. Maybe he was going to leave her there to die? She could only hope, in that case she would have plenty of time to escape.
Sara put her palms flat on the floor. She pushed herself up until her knees were bent. It took several tries but she eventually moved herself up so that she was kneeing on the ground, head straight in the air. Her arms were shaking. Sweat was sweeping through her shirt. Sara crawled this way to the door. She put her right hand against the mold-ridden wall and used it as support to try to stand. Her legs couldn't hold her and she went down hard. Catherine had not called her stubborn for nothing. She tried again and this time on wobbly legs opened the door.
It was early evening. Clouds had moved in. Darkness penetrated the woods around. It was a wonderful feeling to see the outdoors again, to breathe in their air. In the distance she could see the lights from various hotels. In her present condition it was going to be a rough journey. In order to avoid her kidnapper she would have to take a path through the dense woods. The night sky was not going to provide enough light for her to see. She couldn't give up now; she was so close to freedom.
Sara began going down the hill. She used saplings to grasp onto and felt her feet sliding from under her. She trudged along for what seemed to be hours although she could tell from the moon that not much time had elapsed.
She felt triumph. She had done it, she had escaped some psycho and she was going home. The first smile in weeks appeared on her face. Lost in these thoughts she never saw the root of an old tree. It was large and protruding from the ground. Sara tripped over it and felt herself falling forward. It was as if she was seeing a movie of her accident, she could see herself falling, hitting the ground hard. She tried to get up but her head throbbed and stars once again danced in front of her eyes. She tried to ignore the dancing stars lulling her into sleep. Get up, she thought. He'll be back soon, get up. The ballet in her head won over the words in her mind, Sara blacked out.
Mark Raymond pulled up next to the shack. At first he didn't notice the open door. He had grabbed both the knife and her gun from his trunk's glove compartment. He wasn't sure how he was going to kill her but he knew he had to do it. He had to get them off his back. He entered her prison and the reality of the situation hit him. She was gone!
Mark wasted no time rushing out of the shack and scanning the woods. He took from his truck a flashlight to see with. He would head through the trees and find her, playing the executioner. He'd leave her body their, let them find it. Which way to start?, he wondered. The he caught sight of broken branches. Mark moved closer and used the flashlight to see a clear path. Someone had stomped over these branches. He had her, his Tracy. He shook his head. No, this woman wasn't Tracy but she was a worthy substitute.
He proceeded down the path until he came upon something large lying on the ground. The flashlight proved his assumption: it was her. He decided then to use the knife, more intimate. Kneeling over her he thrust the knife into her. The eyes that were closed opened in a flash. He couldn't help but laugh.
To be continued...