Gil Grissom sat at his desk with what appeared to be the beginning of a headache reading a forensic journal. Sheriff Mobely had made it abundantly clear to him that they needed to have a suspect in hand by the time the morning commute started on Monday to restore public confidence that their transit system was safe. That left them with a little more than 48 hours by his last count. He was sure he wasn't going to see the outside of the lab until this was over.

He looked up as he heard someone clear their throat. Catherine stood there with a smirk on her face as she leaned up against the door jam. "I'd ask you for a penny for your thoughts, but by the looks of your face, I'm not sure I'd want to know what you're thinking."

Grissom raised an eyebrow, "Nice to see you too, Catherine. Mobely is hot on this one, and I'm afraid no matter how many times you try and explain it to him, he just doesn't understand that you can't rush science."

"I can imagine. And with your people skills too." Catherine replied with a smile.

"So how'd it go with the vic's wife?" Grissom asked.

Catherine shifted gears, "Didn't get much. She was pretty broken up. Only piece of information I got from her that was new was that her husband didn't usually ride the bus. Apparently, his car was in for regular service and instead of renting a car like he usually did, he took the bus. Something about not having any client meetings for the day."

"Good work, Catherine." Grissom said looking around his desk for a bottle of Tylenol.

Catherine reached over and pulled the bottle from under a pile of forensic journals and handed it to him. She smiled and walked out of his office calling over her shoulder. "Thanks, Grissom. Get some rest."

Grissom just waved half heartedly and turned back to the forensic journal he'd been reading.