fawkes: I'd want them all to myself, too... *g*

A/N: Sorry, it took this long. I've been trying to wake up my muse. She's awake now, a little dozy, but, still, awake. And: You're not the only ones who are in suspense, my dear readers. I just figured out a perfect almost-ending (and a perfect cliffhanger; hey, it was a package deal), and I'm hardly even halfway there. Damn, I hate it when that happens! I should stop thinking....

An Old Friend

- Chapter Three -

The air in the basement was musty and humid as Grissom and Brass followed the young CSI down the squeaking stairs. Their steps echoed from the hard stone walls. "There," Nick pointed to the other side of the room at something above the shelves.

There was a window; small, but not too small for a human being. It was closed now, but in the frames Grissom could see visible braking marks. "Take a look outside," Nick suggested and Grissom took a step closer, getting on his toes to peek out. "There's the garden. Flowers, trees... Beautiful at day but..." He let his voice trail off and Brass filled in.

"A perfect hiding place at night. No wonder no one saw him."

"And you can't see to that alley from the road. So the killer sneaks through the backyard, forces the window open, goes upstairs..."

"Finds the bedroom and kills them," Grissom concluded. He frowned. "How did he know where to find a perfect entrance, then?"

Nick thought about it for a second as Grissom took a step closer to the window to study it. "He's been here before," he finally stated.

"Exactly."

"That leaves out random killing."

Gris nodded. "At least it narrows the list." Then, he dug out the tweezers and reached out to the window. Carefully, he opened it. It made a small squeak.

"What did you find?" Brass asked.

A small lock of hair was stuck around a small nail in the frame. Grissom picked it up and backed away from the window. As he placed it into a small envelope, he answered: "Evidence."

***

Warrick was sitting in the chair in the brake room with his feet propped up when Catherine entered. With a sigh she walked to the coffee maker and poured herself a cup of steaming hot liquid. Warrick gave her a glance over the news paper's edge. "Anything?"

Her eyebrow shot up. "From Grissom and Nick? No, not a beep." She shrugged. "I guess we're stuck with a quiet night, then."

"Bored?"

"Nah. Just... Well, actually, I am."

"We'll get to business when they get back." His focus went back to the paper. Her focus went back to the coffee cup.

There was nothing really interesting in the paper that day. Just something about Local Park Committee which failed to intrigue him. He browsed through the pages with his mind only half-focused on the text. No improvement in the murder investigations of Sam someone, the paper said, the Senate is going to vote for a new tax law, Agassi beat the heck out of someone, nothing on TV, blah blah blah... Even the comics where boring. With a sigh he closed the paper and threw it on the table. Then he leant back in his chair, folding his arms on his chest. Catherine just kept staring right ahead and took slow sips from her cup.

His foot started tapping the floor.

The clock struck three thirty just as the door opened. Sara's head peeked in. "Hey, guys. Gris just called, they need an extra pair of hands. See you later." Then, just like that, she was gone again.

Warrick stared at the door with his eyes wide.

Damn.

***

She flicked the car radio open and music filled the air. The drive through the city wasn't long, but still, it seemed like ages. It had been a long night to Sara in every way. The entire city had seemed to be stuck in slow motion. During the past few weeks there hadn't been much to do. Which was a good thing in a sense of humanity, less work means fewer crimes, but it also made her feel guilty to receive her paycheck. Such a moralist she is. No, she just didn't feel like she deserved it when she practically did nothing to earn it.

But this case... This seemed interesting. She got a feeling, a gut feeling that this would be something bigger than just a normal homicide. Grissom had mentioned something about a note when he'd called. She wondered what that could be about.

As she pulled out in front of the house, the first thing she noticed was how peaceful it looked. For some reason she always expected the scene to look like something had happened. It seldom did, but she still couldn't help expecting it. Every time. It didn't look as if someone had been just killed there. The one-storied building just stood there as if nothing could ever shake it. She shook her thoughts away as she stepped out of the car and grabbed her bag. The long week had made her way too melodramatic.

She flashed her ID at the officer standing by the door and stepped into the house. It was a calm inside as it was outside, but she didn't let it bother her.

She found Grissom from the bedroom. "Hey."

Then she took a look at the bodies.

They'd been sleeping. She could tell. It looked as if the man hadn't put up any fight at all. The sheets around the woman, instead, were slightly crumbled, she'd been struggling a little, but still, she just lay there as if she would wake up any time. They would've looked as if they were still sleeping.

If it weren't for the blood.

Grissom's voice broke through her thoughts. "David just left. They're going to take the bodies away soon, so we'd better get moving."

"Yeah, sure," she answered thoughtfully. She couldn't keep her eyes off the woman's face.

"Sara? You okay?"

She noticed that she hadn't moved a muscle. Her eyes darted to Grissom and she shrugged. "Yeah. I just... She reminds me of someone."

"Who?"

"I'm not sure. There's just something familiar about her face." She shrugged again, dismissing the feeling and moved further into the room. "It's nothing important."

She put her bag to the floor and opened it. "Okay, where do I start?"

Grissom handed her the camera. She took it and started taking pictures.

TBC....

PS. Blah, still, nothing works in my head. It's like a freaking desert in there. I should be writing other unfinished stuff too... Again, this turned out to be shorter than intended, but it's a chapter, not a novel. And, excuse me, I'm cranky, because my mind's blank, and I've drunken way too much coffee. Way too much.