I tapped my fingers nervously on the kitchen table, willing my cell phone
to ring. I took another gulp from my coffee cup, finishing off my fourth
cup of the morning.
As if hearing my silent plea, the shrill ringing of my cell cut through the silence in the room. Although I was expecting the call, I still jumped at the sudden noise. "Willow," I answered quickly.
"Catherine? It's Brass." The familiar voice on the line sounded empty and hollow, revealing no emotions. "We think we know where she is." He rattled off the address of a storage facility where Hank was renting some space.
"I'll meet you there," I said, hanging up.
I rushed into the next room where Grissom was absentmindedly flipping through the channels. "Gil, Brass just called. They think they've found her."
We jumped into the car and I read off the address for him. "It's ok, Cath," Grissom said, covering my hand with his own. "She'll be ok." I closed my eyes and silently prayed, something I hadn't done since before Eddie died.
The shrill of a siren pulled me out of my solitude. Grissom pulled the car over to the side of the road, allowing a bright red fire truck to pass. I gasped and shot a nervous glance at him. "Do you think--?"
"No," he said firmly. "It couldn't be her." Despite his words, I saw his foot press down on the gas pedal. We followed the fire truck down the road. As it made the turn into the storage facility, I felt my chest tighten and my heart begin to race.
The fire blazed in the small storage building. An officer was snapping handcuffs on someone. "Hank," I whispered, instantly recognizing him.
I jumped out of the car before Grissom put it in park, and I raced over to where Brass stood. "Where is she?" I asked, shaking.
"We don't know yet," Brass answered sadly, glancing over his shoulder at the burning building.
"I pushed past him to where Hank was. "Where is she?" I demanded. "Where's Amy?"
He laughed. "She's gone now. I took care of her."
"What do you mean?" I asked, tears streaming down my face. An officer helped Hank into the police car, and closed the door, shutting him off from me.
I turned and ran to one of the many firemen, standing with their hoses trained on the building. "My baby," I cried, "I think she's in there."
"Hold on, ma'am," he said, shouting some words to one of the other fire men. The two men dashed into the building.
I rushed forward to get closer, but an officer firmly held me back. "You can't go past this line, ma'am," he said gently. I was too tired, emotionally and physically, to fight.
I felt a hand move around me, and I let Grissom pull me into his warm embrace. "Oh, Gil," I sobbed. I felt the wetness of his tears on my head.
"It'll be ok, Cath," he said, him voice breaking as he said my name.
Suddenly, from the building emerged one of the fire men, holding Amy in his arms. "Amy," I cried, pulling myself from Grissom's arms and rushing forwards. They placed her onto a waiting stretcher and pulled an oxygen mask over her face.
Time was moving in slow motion. Everything seemed to happen so slowly, when, in truth, the ambulance was speeding away in less than a minute.
I squeezed Amy's hand gently, lowering my head in prayer for the second time that night. My eyes burned from a mixture of crying and lack of sleep. As we pulled into the hospital, I thought of the millions of cases I had worked. Many of them ended in death and despair for the family. I only prayed that this wouldn't be one of those cases.
As if hearing my silent plea, the shrill ringing of my cell cut through the silence in the room. Although I was expecting the call, I still jumped at the sudden noise. "Willow," I answered quickly.
"Catherine? It's Brass." The familiar voice on the line sounded empty and hollow, revealing no emotions. "We think we know where she is." He rattled off the address of a storage facility where Hank was renting some space.
"I'll meet you there," I said, hanging up.
I rushed into the next room where Grissom was absentmindedly flipping through the channels. "Gil, Brass just called. They think they've found her."
We jumped into the car and I read off the address for him. "It's ok, Cath," Grissom said, covering my hand with his own. "She'll be ok." I closed my eyes and silently prayed, something I hadn't done since before Eddie died.
The shrill of a siren pulled me out of my solitude. Grissom pulled the car over to the side of the road, allowing a bright red fire truck to pass. I gasped and shot a nervous glance at him. "Do you think--?"
"No," he said firmly. "It couldn't be her." Despite his words, I saw his foot press down on the gas pedal. We followed the fire truck down the road. As it made the turn into the storage facility, I felt my chest tighten and my heart begin to race.
The fire blazed in the small storage building. An officer was snapping handcuffs on someone. "Hank," I whispered, instantly recognizing him.
I jumped out of the car before Grissom put it in park, and I raced over to where Brass stood. "Where is she?" I asked, shaking.
"We don't know yet," Brass answered sadly, glancing over his shoulder at the burning building.
"I pushed past him to where Hank was. "Where is she?" I demanded. "Where's Amy?"
He laughed. "She's gone now. I took care of her."
"What do you mean?" I asked, tears streaming down my face. An officer helped Hank into the police car, and closed the door, shutting him off from me.
I turned and ran to one of the many firemen, standing with their hoses trained on the building. "My baby," I cried, "I think she's in there."
"Hold on, ma'am," he said, shouting some words to one of the other fire men. The two men dashed into the building.
I rushed forward to get closer, but an officer firmly held me back. "You can't go past this line, ma'am," he said gently. I was too tired, emotionally and physically, to fight.
I felt a hand move around me, and I let Grissom pull me into his warm embrace. "Oh, Gil," I sobbed. I felt the wetness of his tears on my head.
"It'll be ok, Cath," he said, him voice breaking as he said my name.
Suddenly, from the building emerged one of the fire men, holding Amy in his arms. "Amy," I cried, pulling myself from Grissom's arms and rushing forwards. They placed her onto a waiting stretcher and pulled an oxygen mask over her face.
Time was moving in slow motion. Everything seemed to happen so slowly, when, in truth, the ambulance was speeding away in less than a minute.
I squeezed Amy's hand gently, lowering my head in prayer for the second time that night. My eyes burned from a mixture of crying and lack of sleep. As we pulled into the hospital, I thought of the millions of cases I had worked. Many of them ended in death and despair for the family. I only prayed that this wouldn't be one of those cases.