Title: Sympathy for the Devil
Author: Burked
Email: res0rvm5@verizon.net
Disclaimers: CSI is a registered trademark of CBS, Inc.
A/N: Some of you who have so graciously sent in reviews don't have an email address listed on your fanfiction.net profile. Sometime you pose questions (rhetorical or otherwise), or have comments or suggestions that I'd like to discuss, but can't. If it doesn't cause privacy issues, I'd prefer for those folks to email their reviews so that I can respond. This goes for you, too, LAURA KATHARINE! I'd prefer the others to stick to leaving them on fanfiction.net, though you are welcome to email me any time as well.
* * * * *
"More evidence that she was a victim herself," Sara said, reading the message on the wall.
"My God, there's blood everywhere," Grissom said. "She had to have been drenched in it."
"How thoughtful," Sara said from the other side of the bed. She held up the hospital gown that was now turning stiff and brown from dried blood. "She left us her clothing. How much do you want to bet that there's not one of her epithelials on either side?"
"That's a sucker bet," Grissom agreed. "But we have to check."
Sara bagged each piece separately in paper bags to allow air flow to continue to dry them. Grissom took pictures of the walls, ceiling, and corpse-covered bed. He switched off the lights and each of them scanned half the room with ultraviolet lights. They collected several hairs and fibers that most likely originated here, but until they had a better lead on Lilith, they wouldn't exclude anything.
"Grissom, look at this!" Sara shouted, pointing to the message on the wall. "You may need your magnifying glass. Look at the very tops of the letters. She held her finger a bit longer and pressed harder at the start of each letter. She must have only had on one pair of gloves when she wrote them, and they were the thin latex kind like they sell at retail stores. You can just make out a few ridges."
"I don't think there is enough ridge detail on any of them for an ID," Grissom opined, peering through the glass.
"Not each one by itself, but what if Jacqui could compile them? They are likely to all be the same finger. I don't know if she can, but it's worth a try," Sara smiled.
Grissom was not convinced, but when he turned and saw her hopeful smile, his objections melted away. It had been too long since he had seen her smile, and longer still since he had been the motivation for it. As he had hoped, working on the scene together was defusing her anger with him. He was grateful that she didn't know what power she held over him at that moment.
Sara held up the smallest scale ruler she had directly under each suspected ridge set and photographed them with the macro lens. "If we were as high-tech as the labs in the movies, we would whip out a wireless laptop and send these digitally to Jacqui. She could have it all done by the time we got back to the lab," Sara mused.
"It's amazing how much things have already changed since I first started," Grissom nodded.
Sara's cell phone rang and she recognized Lilith's number.
"Sidle," she answered mechanically, holding the phone again between her head and Grissom's.
"Hey. Why is Grissom at the scene with you instead of Catherine? Does she have personal issues to deal with now?" Lilith laughed.
"She would have to leave soon. No use starting a scene if you can't finish it. Grissom is working with Cath and me."
"Why?" she asked suspiciously.
"To protect us from the bogeyman," Sara chuckled.
Lilith laughed at the thought that anyone would consider her dangerous.
"Let me ask you a question. How do you feel about my so-called victims?" Lilith asked, suddenly changing course.
Grissom shifted his head slightly but imperceptibly to look at Sara. He wanted to know the answer as much as Lilith did.
"I think that anyone who abuses children in any manner should be given the death penalty," Sara answered without hesitation. "No exceptions. No plea bargains."
"That's exactly what I'm doing. The courts won't do it, so it's left to me to do. I know I can't get them all. But every one I do execute saves several children. Do you see why I do it?" she asked.
"Yes," Sara answered evenly.
Grissom shifted uncomfortably, fearing that Sara's moral compass was being cleverly subverted.
"What would you do if you were me?" Lilith asked.
"I don't know," Sara answered. ... "Can I ask you a very personal question?"
"I might not answer, but you can ask," Lilith allowed.
"Were you a victim of sexual abuse as a child?" Sara asked gently, compassion softening her accent.
"I will never forget," Lilith reinterated her message.
"Nor will I, Lilith," Sara barely squeaked out.
Grissom's head spun around quickly, a look of shock and horror on his face. He wanted to hold her right now, but not in any romantic way. He wanted to pull her into himself, let her hide behind the walls that had protected him from the world for so long. He found that he was unbelievably angry, and it made it all the worse that he didn't have a target to direct that anger at.
"I knew we had a connection," Lilith said softly.
"I've got to get back to work," Sara said hoarsely.
"Call me if you need me," Lilith offered, hanging up.
Sara put away her cell phone and began to gather the evidence silently, logging each piece carefully before placing it in the larger bag. She working quietly, evidently lost in her own thoughts.
Grissom stood immobile, paralyzed, unable to so much as think. Even if he could think, he didn't know what he was supposed to think. Wordlessly, he helped her carry her equipment and evidence to the SUV. The drive back was similarly devoid of words, which suited both of them.
In the parking lot of the lab, Grissom finally broke the silence. "After we get the evidence logged in, do you want to go somewhere?" he asked tenderly.
"Yes. I want to go home," she answered somewhat curtly, opening the door and bailing out in one continuous motion. She headed directly to the lab, never looking back. Grissom saw no reason to move; she obviously didn't want to be with him right now. The least he could do is respect her wishes.
* * * * *
"All I'm saying is to keep an eye on her," Grissom said tiredly.
"What am I supposed to be looking for?" Catherine asked. "Unusual behavior? You mean like not eating right? Oh, never mind, that's all the time. Or like not getting enough sleep? Forget that one, too. Having a thing for an emotionally unavailable man? Nope, she's always had that, as well. What exactly are you talking about?" Catherine huffed.
"Ha ha, Catherine. Very funny. But I'm serious. I think she's identifying with Lilith. She's supposed to be representing the victims," Grissom said.
"She is representing the victims, just different victims," Catherine suggested. "How do you expect her to identify with child molesters? I know I can't. Can you? If you say 'yes', I will shoot you on the spot," she warned. "And I know how to get away with it."
"I don't want her to identify with any of them. I want her to do her job objectively. I don't know if she can on this case."
"I understand why you think you should be worried, but you are underestimating Sara. If you can't trust her all the way, on any case, then you don't trust her at all, no matter what you say. You haven't finished smoothing things over from the last time you pulled this crap. I suggest that you keep your mouth shut," Catherine advised.
"I won't let her emotions compromise this case," Grissom said emphatically. "But more important, I don't want this case to compromise her. If it's affecting her too much, I want her off of it, for her own good. I want you to promise me that you will keep Sara's best interests in mind at all times. Promise me that," Grissom commanded.
"I promise," Catherine agreed. She could prognosticate that this was likely to turn out badly, all the way around.
* * * * *
Sara sat in front of her computer at home, retrieving the database files from Boston and Chicago. She imported them into her older, but still servicable dBase program, identifying the available fields of information for each. She pulled up the Nevada driver's license file she had already received days ago.
She linked matching fields for the three reports and ran a canned report to find all the records with matching last names. When the report returned too many names, she added the first name field as an additional parameter. There were five women who had moved to Las Vegas within the last six months who had previously lived in Boston and Chicago.
Sara was surprised that there were that many. Though she was fully capable of calculating the odds of that, she had never tried, assuming the odds were that there were probably only one or at most two.
Catherine had given the tetanus information to Brass, and he was chasing down which hospitals and urgent care facilities administered the tetanus vaccine on Sunday. Hopefully, the number would be small enough to be able to talk a judge into approving warrants for their records.
Sara called Brass with the five names. She wasn't surprised that he wasn't asleep either. He said that he would check them out today. It was possible that they would know the identity and whereabouts of Lilith very soon.
Knowing who she is and where she is would be a huge step forward, but unlike most of the TV cop shows, knowing who did the crime is meaningless unless you can prove it. For that, she needed physical evidence. She needed to find the primary crime scene for the first murder.
* * * * *
"Sara, we need to talk," Grissom breathed into the phone. "Actually, you need to talk and I need to listen," he clarified.
"Talk about what?" she asked warily.
"I think you know," he answered cagily.
"The case?" she hazarded.
"Tangentially," he answered. "But I don't want to get into this over the phone. Can we meet somewhere?" he asked hopefully.
"Not if you're going to talk about what I think you're going to talk about. First of all, it's not a public discussion. Second, and most important, I don't really want to talk about it with you," she said, hoping it was a topic-ender.
"I think it's imperative we talk about it, and we can talk wherever you want to," he offered. "You can come here, or I can go there. Whatever makes you most comfortable."
"The whole thing is making me very uncomfortable," she countered.
"Sara, if we can't talk about what's going on with you, I have to assume the worst and take you off the case," Grissom returned ominously.
Fury rising in her, tightening her chest and throat, Sara replied, "I see. You still don't trust me with the case. You've been second-guessing me from the beginning. I knew I shouldn't have come back," she said, her voice trailing off. She was still mumbling about her naivete and stupidity when he interrupted.
"That's not how it is. Let me see you and explain," he asked urgently.
The line was silent for several seconds as she mulled over his request.
"Okay, Grissom, you win. As usual," she conceded heavily. "But just because I listen to you explain what you mean doesn't imply that I agree to talk to you about anything."
"It's at least a start. Do you want me to come over now? Or later, after we've slept?"
"I don't want to do this at all. But, it's your party, so you name the time," she said sarcastically.
"I don't think I can sleep, so how about I plan to be there in half an hour?"
"Sleep? What's that?" she asked acerbically.
"See you soon," Grissom gently said, hanging up the phone. He would have just enough time to give the shower an opportunity to slap him into wakefulness.
* * * * *
"For God's sake, Grissom," Sara shouted, "I'm doing my job. That's all. I'll say whatever I think is appropriate to get her to talk to me."
"So you are telling me that you don't agree with her?" Grissom asked.
"I'm not saying I agree or don't agree. What I think is moot. It has nothing to do with doing my job."
"Are you so sure about that?" he challenged her.
"You tell me! Who's gotten most of the evidence for the case so far? You? Catherine? No, it's been me. Because she chooses to talk to me," Sara said defiantly.
"Because she perceives that you have some things in common," he hazarded.
"She can perceive whatever she wants to, as long as she keeps talking."
"Why won't you answer my questions directly? Do you or do you not believe she's doing the right thing? Do you or do you not share a similar history?" he asked. He had been unable to get her to open up to him earlier when they had been discussing this more calmly, so he had allowed the conversation to spill into anger, hoping she would blurt out the truth.
"Why won't I answer your questions? You've got to be kidding me! This from the man who wouldn't even tell me how he learned to sign. That's hardly a startling revelation to make, but you didn't feel the need to share. But you expect me to bare my soul to you on your command? You of all people have no right to ask me personal questions. If you think that I am not conducting myself professionally in this case, then reassign me or fire me."
Sara realized that Grissom had been clever to want to meet at her apartment. If they had been anywhere else, she could have walked out.
"I don't think you understand, Sara," Grissom said calmly, trying to back her up from the emotional precipice she was standing on. "It's not that I think you aren't doing a good job on this case. Let me be clear – you are. I know you'll do what's right. But if you really do connect with her, it could tear you apart to gather the evidence that could end up putting her on Death Row."
Grissom got up from his chair and moved over to the couch to sit next to her. She stiffened when he reached out to put his hand on her shoulder, but he didn't remove it right away. "I don't want this to hurt you. Can't you accept that I just want what's best for you?"
"Well, I have to admit that's a little difficult to believe. For you, it's always been work first. And I'm telling you, if you want her to tell us enough to nail her, you'll leave me on this case."
Grissom dropped his hand and leaned over, propping his forearms on his thighs, looking down as he fiddled with his hands. "Sara, I know things have been very strained between us for a while, and I know it's my fault. There are reasons, but they are irrelevant. All I know it that it nearly killed me to hear you imply to Lilith that you were a victim too. I know I have no right to ask, but I've got to know," he said hoarsely, his throat constricted in pain.
Sara studied him, watching the muscle in his jaw clenching rhythmically, and saw that his pain was real. No matter what had or hadn't happened between them, she still loved him and would still do anything to take the pain away.
"No, Grissom. I was never a victim. I just implied that so she would think I was sympathetic," Sara answered. "She's likely to reveal more to someone she thinks can relate to her."
Grissom let out a breath that he wasn't aware he was holding. He felt like crying from relief. He couldn't stand the thought that she carried that kind of burden. "Thank you for answering my question," he said gratefully, never asking himself why it had been so difficult to get the answer.
"So are you going to let me do what you're paying me for, or are you going to keep doubting me?" she asked.
"I trust you," he answered simply, standing up. He was emotionally and physically exhausted, and knew that he would need to leave now if he expected to get home before he collapsed. "I better go. I'm beat."
"Grissom," Sara said, catching him by the arm as he walked past, "Thanks for caring."
He smiled at her and surprised them both by reaching up to cup her cheek. "I care," he said simply, then turned to retreat before he went any further over the line.
* * * * *
"Some kids were playing frisbee," Brass explained, leading Catherine, Sara and Grissom towards a clump of bushes that surrounded a tree. "It went into the bushes. When they went it to look for it, they found this," he said, pulling back a tall shrub to expose a small open area covered in old, dried blood."Too much for an animal, and no corpse of any species. Think maybe it's your primary crime scene?" Brass asked hopefully.
"Only one way to find out," Catherine answered, and the three wandered around the clump trying to decide the best way to gather the evidence without destroying the scene prematurely.
"I say, let's take pictures and bring a sample of the blood to Greg to compare to the first victim. If it matches, we can take this scene apart leaf by leaf. If not, since we have no body, we have no crime. If something turns up later, we have the pictures and the sample," Grissom suggested to Catherine.
"Sounds good to me," Brass nodded, looking to Catherine for confirmation.
* * * * *
Based on Greg's confirmation that the blood matched the first victim, the three CSIs went back to the park with a box of plastic trash bags, a flat shovel and pruning shears. Sara crawled on her hands and knees around the bases of the bushes, taking measurements and calling them out to Catherine, who was doing the scene sketch.
"We need to mark the spatter, then get an overhead shot, since we can't get a good locator shot from the outside of the clump," Sara suggested.
Grissom and Catherine looked at each other and snorted. "I assume you are volunteering to climb the tree," Catherine told Sara.
"Sure, I don't mind," Sara said, "but the lowest branch is a little too high for me to reach. Someone give me a boost?" she asked, already at the base of the tree, looking up to chart her path.
Again, Catherine and Grissom looked at each other. He switched his gaze towards Sara, then back to Catherine: "I love my work," he said quietly to Catherine.
"It still shows," Catherine retorted.
Grissom bent down next to Sara and put his hands together, interlocking the fingers. She put a hand on his shoulder and a foot in his hands, which brought her chest just at eye level. Grissom fought to suppress a grin, opting to look down rather than ahead or at Catherine.
"Okay, on three. One, two, three!" she counted, then pushed off as he stood up and lifted his hands. She grasped the branch and swung herself up onto it. Locking her legs around the branch, she leaned over precariously and took several pictures from above.
"How's she going to get down?" Catherine whispered, leaning into Grissom's ear. The tree truck was too large to grasp, and too rough to slide down.
"I really, really love my work," Grissom said, moving back under the tree. Sara carefully dislodged her legs and swung down to hang by her hands, but she was still several feet off the ground, and there were shrubs under the tree that could easily injure her if she landed on them. She hadn't considered how she was going to get down, until she was already hanging there, like a stranded kitten.
"Want some help?" Grissom asked coyly, standing next to her dangling feet.
"Do I have a choice?" she asked.
"Sure," he answered, shrugging and making like he was going to walk away and leave her dangling.
"Grissom!" Sara squealed.
"What?" he answered.
"Don't leave me hanging here!" she said. When he positioned himself under her again, he put his hands on her legs, only able to reach just below her knees.
"Let go and I'll catch you," he said.
"Is this one of those team-building trust exercises? 'Cause I never did very well at those," Sara said ruefully.
"You can trust me. I'll catch you," Grissom asserted.
"One, two, three!" she counted again, letting go of the branch. Grissom let her slide through his hands for a few feet, then caught her around the waist. Pulling her closer into him and wrapping his arms around her, he let her body slowly slide down his until she had her feet on the ground. He held her at least two seconds longer than was necessary, bringing a blush to both of their faces.
Leaning in to whisper in his ear, Sara said, "You said I could trust you!"
He laughed and answered, "Trust that I'd catch you. I didn't say what I'd do once I did," he teased, happy that he had not received another lecture on crossing the ever-moving line.
She playfully slapped at his shoulder, and looked over at Catherine, who was pretending not to notice, seeming to be studying the ground for footprints or other evidence.
"Hey, wait a minute! Look at this!" Sara said suddenly turning serious, leaning in towards the tree. Grissom followed her line of sight and found what had diverted her attention. An old rusty nail was driven into the side of the tree, as though someone had once hung something from it, like a hammock.
"Hard to tell if there's anything else on it, with all that rust," Grissom noted. After Sara photographed it, he used the pruning shears like pliers to grasp the nail and wiggle it out of the tree and drop it in a bindle.
"I know I'd get a tetanus shot if I snagged my arm on that," Sara said.
"Get it to Greg ASAP.," Catherine directed Sara. "Grissom and I will finish processing the scene. Grab a shovel, Big Boy."
"Why do I have to do the digging?" he whined.
"Because I just got my nails done and you're the man," Catherine answered.
"That's sexist!" he said, pushing the blade into the hard dirt around the first bush.
"OK, then because I'm the primary, and I say so!" she retorted.
"Last time I checked, a Supervisor trumps a CSI-III," he shot back, angling the handle down to dislodge the bush, roots popping free, throwing bits of dirt.
"Yeah, whatever. Just dig."
Sara smiled at the friendly bickering that was fading as she strode resolutely toward her SUV. Things might finally be falling into place. It made her feel excited, like when a bloodhound finally picked up the scent. She fought valiantly to keep any other thoughts about Lilith from subverting her from her goal. As they say, nothing else matters, and what if it did?
TBC
A/N: Must remember to thank Mossley and LSI again ... and again ... A good beta who will be honest is hard to find. They are as precious as gold.
