Disclaimer: Sadly they didn't take my bid of £1.50 very seriously, so I
still don't own this.
A/N: Hello. Said I won't take too long updating. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: A Bloom, Sylphide, chimaera-104, Charming-Storm, The Madhatter2, MagentaLee, MissyJane and Sprinkles143. You guys are awesome. The terrible fate of school is about to bestowed upon me once more tomorrow ('cause sending us back the day before the weekend was so clever!), so please leave a review and give me something to smile about. I may take a bit longer updating. Well R&R and Enjoy!!! - Bex :o)
Apart of Grissom would not be surprised if he could recite every page from the case by heart. Even though he'd placed the file back down, the words still ran though his mind. Though the fact he'd discovered, once more, that he hadn't missed anything, the thought didn't reassure. He wanted to find something he'd missed. He needed to find something he'd missed. Raped, drowned and dumped: the fate of 4 women so far. 'And is it going to be Sara's?' He thought in despair, 'No, don't think like that.'
He was saved from his tormented thoughts by his office door opening. Brass walked up to the front of the desk and sat down in the chair. 'How you doing?" Brass asked. Grissom gave him a look and he added: "Stupid question. I've still got some men asking around. Also every cop on patrol tonight's keeping an eye out, as well as for a body."
"I'm not sure if there will be one."
"But it's the third night right?"
"Yeah, but Sara being taken changes everything," Gris sighed in frustration.
"Gil, we still don't know if it's the same asshole," Brass reminded him.
"Oh, it's him. If not, we've got a bigger problem; we've got two killers who are superb of ridding scene of evidence." Grissom leaved back into his chair and rubbed his forehead. "Sara doesn't fit Jim. Nothing about her abduction fits. She was never a prostitute or stripper. She wasn't even taken on the third night for crying out loud. What he trying to tell us? What is he playing at?"
Brass gave him a curt shrug. "I have no idea; but I have a grim feeling we're going to find out soon."
~*~*~*~*~
Cold sweat dripped down her face as she bolted up right. Catherine ran a clammy hand through her hair, wishing the Grissom was here to hold her until she felt safe again. But the bed was empty; just like the rest of the house. She glanced at the clock and silently swore when she realised that she was going to be late for the shift. Not that Grissom would find that a bad thing right now. 'Stop trying to protect me Gil and admit you need my help with this case,' She told him mentally.
After choosing whether to go straight to work or be a bit later and have a shower first, she decided on the second option. She dragged herself out of bed and began to strip off her clothes as she entered the bathroom.
The taps took a bit of adjusting before she reached a suitable temperature to stand under. The hot water poured sown her body, Catherine had hopped that it would wash away the memories of her dream, but instead it stirred them. Stirred the absolute darkness back into her mind. Stirred the terrified screams as they called for help, whilst she desperately tired to find the owner. Stirred the sudden deadly silence and the body she found. Stirred the manic laughter of malevolence triumphant.
It was the same dream she'd been having since Portia's abduction. Except tonight's had been different; it had been Sara's body in front of her instead of the dead stripper. 'Why did he take her?' She thought, desperately searching for sense. 'Why her and not me?'
She stepped out of the shower, quickly dried herself off and redressed for the shift. Catherine knew that she should leave, but something drew her to the wardrobe. The door slid open easily and, after a small amount of searching, she found the old shoebox she was looking for. Gently, she eased it down and knelt beside it. She opened it and discovered what she had wanted to find.
The picture was of her old life. Old Vegas. The younger version of her stood outside 'The French Palace' along with the other dances. She stared at the mass of faces. Her eyes rested on Portia's smiling image for a moment - the woman had stood to the left of her. All smiling, all happy and all safe. What a different picture from today.
She flipped it over and scanned the signature that covered the back. Every girl had received one and signed everyone else's as a reminder of these days; still lived by some and left by others. 'Others like me. Except Portia wasn't so lucky.'
Not bothering to put the box back, Catherine placed the photo on the lid and hurried outside. For a moment she fumbled with the keys as she tried to place them into the lock. A rustle in the bushes made her jump. Wide eyed, she scanned her surroundings until she was satisfied that it was nothing. 'Paranoid,' She scolded herself.
Finally the keys slid in, as a hand clamped down around her mouth sealing a cloth to her face. She raised up her hand in an attempt to pull the hand away as she struggled, but it did no good. The intoxicating drug had already started to flow alongside her blood, making every muscle limp and dragging her world slowly into black.
~*~*~*~*~
The white dress was draped across the pavement and hugged the body of the black woman; the pale dress was a contrast to the dark skin. Grissom stared at image he'd seen too many times now; and a part grimly knew he'd be seeing it again. He heard the clicking of the camera cease and nodded at Warrick to let the corpse be removed.
They hadn't arrived here straight away; it had taken a couple of minutes for them to loose Nick. Slowly, Grissom joined Warrick in searching the crime scene. He wondered if they would find the clue they desperately needed, or find nothing once more.
So far they had a Jane Doe; without anyone in life who cared enough to notice her missing, and no one they knew about who would care she'd died either.
~*~*~*~*~
Right now he didn't know what he found more frustrating; the fact they'd come back with nothing or the fact that Jenny and Brit had seemed to have disappeared when they needed them the most. The clock insisted that it was only 3.30am, a mere half-hour since the body had turned up, yet it felt like a completely different night.
Cath, it seemed, had decided not to come in after all. This gave him some reassurance; he'd taken her off the case for a reason. He considered trying to ring Brit or Jenny again. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't even think about ringing them at this ungodly hour; but these were not normal circumstances. Grissom picked up the phone and tried Jenny first, only to reach her answering machine again. Then he dialled Brit's number, just to find that his phone was still unplugged. What was going on? It was almost as if they were avoiding someone.
Gris slumped back into his chair and waited. Waited to see if the Jane Doe's prints were on AFIS. Waited to see if Doc Robbins' autopsy revealed something new. Waited for a clue to be found. And for the killer to strike again.
The phone rang and he hastily answered it, praying that it was either Jenny or Brit or a new lead. "Grissom?"
"Um...Mr Grissom," An unfamiliar female voice answered, "This is Sophie Geller, Amy's mom."
"Oh, of course. Is everything ok?"
"Well, Lindsey's a bit sick. She's thrown up and is running a bit of a temperature. Normally I won't have rung and let her stay here, but she said you were working, so I thought it might be best to ring you so you can take her home."
"Sure. I'll be over there soon. Thank you."
"Ok, I'll see you then. Bye."
He hung up the phone and thought about asking Cath to pick her up, but he decided to leave her be. Instead he grabbed his jacket and headed to the break room. Nick sat fidgeting restlessly in a chair, but shot Grissom a murderous glare when he entered. Gris chose to ignore it and walked up to Warrick who was fixing the coffee machine. "We need a new one Grissom," Warrick commented, as he carried on fiddling about with the mechanics.
"I need to go and pick up Lindsey," He told the other CSI in a low whisper.
"She ok?"
"Yeah, just a bit sick. I'll have my phone with me, so call me if anything comes up."
"Sure."
And with that, disregarding Nick's venomous look, he left.
~*~*~*~*~
"Uncle Grissom?" Lindsey whispered as her eyes droopily opened.
He smiled softly down at the girl. She was curled up in a bed upstairs, her skin was very pale and her forehead burned with a temperature. Gently, he stroked her hair. "Hey honey. How are you feeling?"
She shook her head weakly in response and Grissom carefully picked her up. "I'm taking you home, ok sweetheart?" He turned to Mrs Geller. "Thank you."
"Not a problem." Shrieking of over excited children seeped in from downstairs. She laughed, "I'm surprised this one could sleep with all this racket. I can't."
They walked downstairs to find a cluster of children waiting for them. There was a chorus of 'bye's and 'get well soon', as they walked through the door. Grissom placed her into the front passenger seat in the SUV and fastened the seatbelt for her.
The journey was travelled in silence; Grissom thoughts had wondered back to the case and he had a feeling that Lindsey had fallen asleep. Either way, she was awake when the car pulled into the drive of their house. He went to pick her up again, except she got out herself. "I'm alright," She murmured groggily.
For the first time that night, a small smile touched his lip, as he realised she was as stubborn and strong-minded as her mother. He led her to the front door and stopped abruptly.
The sight of the keys still hanging in the lock froze his heart and stole the colour from his face. He pressed a hand firmly on Lindsey's should to stop her moving any closer. "What's wrong Uncle Grissom?"
"Sweetheart, you know how to use my phone right?" He asked her, trying to keep the panic from his voice. She nodded even though his question confused her. "Good. I want you to go back to the car and lock the doors after you get in. Then I want you to call Uncle Jim and tell him we have a possible 418, ok?"
"Ok," She replied unsurely.
"And tell him to bring Uncle Warrick and Nick. Can you do that for me honey?" He requested.
"Sure."
"Good girl."
He made sure that she was safely back in the car, before he slid on his gloves and slowly opened the unlocked door. The house was eerily quiet; the usual feeling of life had vanished. His hand clasped around his gun just in case. "Cath? Catherine?" He called into the shadows, only to be answered by silence.
Carefully, he checked each empty room, his fear mounting with every door. Finally he reached their bedroom. As he turned the handle, he prayed he would find Catherine asleep in the bed. All he found was an unmade bed; empty like the rest of the house.
Something caught his eye in the midst his anxiety. He walked over to find a box on the floor with a photo lying on top. He knelt down beside to examine it and instantly recognised the face of their new Jane Doe. Next to her stood Portia and, finally, his eyes landed on Catherine. His worst fears were slowly being confirmed by the terrible truth.
A/N: Ha, did you see that one coming? The usual thoughts, feelings, comments, rambles, etc are welcome. So go on and hit that button NOW!!! Put a smile on my face! Lol :o)
A/N: Hello. Said I won't take too long updating. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: A Bloom, Sylphide, chimaera-104, Charming-Storm, The Madhatter2, MagentaLee, MissyJane and Sprinkles143. You guys are awesome. The terrible fate of school is about to bestowed upon me once more tomorrow ('cause sending us back the day before the weekend was so clever!), so please leave a review and give me something to smile about. I may take a bit longer updating. Well R&R and Enjoy!!! - Bex :o)
Apart of Grissom would not be surprised if he could recite every page from the case by heart. Even though he'd placed the file back down, the words still ran though his mind. Though the fact he'd discovered, once more, that he hadn't missed anything, the thought didn't reassure. He wanted to find something he'd missed. He needed to find something he'd missed. Raped, drowned and dumped: the fate of 4 women so far. 'And is it going to be Sara's?' He thought in despair, 'No, don't think like that.'
He was saved from his tormented thoughts by his office door opening. Brass walked up to the front of the desk and sat down in the chair. 'How you doing?" Brass asked. Grissom gave him a look and he added: "Stupid question. I've still got some men asking around. Also every cop on patrol tonight's keeping an eye out, as well as for a body."
"I'm not sure if there will be one."
"But it's the third night right?"
"Yeah, but Sara being taken changes everything," Gris sighed in frustration.
"Gil, we still don't know if it's the same asshole," Brass reminded him.
"Oh, it's him. If not, we've got a bigger problem; we've got two killers who are superb of ridding scene of evidence." Grissom leaved back into his chair and rubbed his forehead. "Sara doesn't fit Jim. Nothing about her abduction fits. She was never a prostitute or stripper. She wasn't even taken on the third night for crying out loud. What he trying to tell us? What is he playing at?"
Brass gave him a curt shrug. "I have no idea; but I have a grim feeling we're going to find out soon."
~*~*~*~*~
Cold sweat dripped down her face as she bolted up right. Catherine ran a clammy hand through her hair, wishing the Grissom was here to hold her until she felt safe again. But the bed was empty; just like the rest of the house. She glanced at the clock and silently swore when she realised that she was going to be late for the shift. Not that Grissom would find that a bad thing right now. 'Stop trying to protect me Gil and admit you need my help with this case,' She told him mentally.
After choosing whether to go straight to work or be a bit later and have a shower first, she decided on the second option. She dragged herself out of bed and began to strip off her clothes as she entered the bathroom.
The taps took a bit of adjusting before she reached a suitable temperature to stand under. The hot water poured sown her body, Catherine had hopped that it would wash away the memories of her dream, but instead it stirred them. Stirred the absolute darkness back into her mind. Stirred the terrified screams as they called for help, whilst she desperately tired to find the owner. Stirred the sudden deadly silence and the body she found. Stirred the manic laughter of malevolence triumphant.
It was the same dream she'd been having since Portia's abduction. Except tonight's had been different; it had been Sara's body in front of her instead of the dead stripper. 'Why did he take her?' She thought, desperately searching for sense. 'Why her and not me?'
She stepped out of the shower, quickly dried herself off and redressed for the shift. Catherine knew that she should leave, but something drew her to the wardrobe. The door slid open easily and, after a small amount of searching, she found the old shoebox she was looking for. Gently, she eased it down and knelt beside it. She opened it and discovered what she had wanted to find.
The picture was of her old life. Old Vegas. The younger version of her stood outside 'The French Palace' along with the other dances. She stared at the mass of faces. Her eyes rested on Portia's smiling image for a moment - the woman had stood to the left of her. All smiling, all happy and all safe. What a different picture from today.
She flipped it over and scanned the signature that covered the back. Every girl had received one and signed everyone else's as a reminder of these days; still lived by some and left by others. 'Others like me. Except Portia wasn't so lucky.'
Not bothering to put the box back, Catherine placed the photo on the lid and hurried outside. For a moment she fumbled with the keys as she tried to place them into the lock. A rustle in the bushes made her jump. Wide eyed, she scanned her surroundings until she was satisfied that it was nothing. 'Paranoid,' She scolded herself.
Finally the keys slid in, as a hand clamped down around her mouth sealing a cloth to her face. She raised up her hand in an attempt to pull the hand away as she struggled, but it did no good. The intoxicating drug had already started to flow alongside her blood, making every muscle limp and dragging her world slowly into black.
~*~*~*~*~
The white dress was draped across the pavement and hugged the body of the black woman; the pale dress was a contrast to the dark skin. Grissom stared at image he'd seen too many times now; and a part grimly knew he'd be seeing it again. He heard the clicking of the camera cease and nodded at Warrick to let the corpse be removed.
They hadn't arrived here straight away; it had taken a couple of minutes for them to loose Nick. Slowly, Grissom joined Warrick in searching the crime scene. He wondered if they would find the clue they desperately needed, or find nothing once more.
So far they had a Jane Doe; without anyone in life who cared enough to notice her missing, and no one they knew about who would care she'd died either.
~*~*~*~*~
Right now he didn't know what he found more frustrating; the fact they'd come back with nothing or the fact that Jenny and Brit had seemed to have disappeared when they needed them the most. The clock insisted that it was only 3.30am, a mere half-hour since the body had turned up, yet it felt like a completely different night.
Cath, it seemed, had decided not to come in after all. This gave him some reassurance; he'd taken her off the case for a reason. He considered trying to ring Brit or Jenny again. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't even think about ringing them at this ungodly hour; but these were not normal circumstances. Grissom picked up the phone and tried Jenny first, only to reach her answering machine again. Then he dialled Brit's number, just to find that his phone was still unplugged. What was going on? It was almost as if they were avoiding someone.
Gris slumped back into his chair and waited. Waited to see if the Jane Doe's prints were on AFIS. Waited to see if Doc Robbins' autopsy revealed something new. Waited for a clue to be found. And for the killer to strike again.
The phone rang and he hastily answered it, praying that it was either Jenny or Brit or a new lead. "Grissom?"
"Um...Mr Grissom," An unfamiliar female voice answered, "This is Sophie Geller, Amy's mom."
"Oh, of course. Is everything ok?"
"Well, Lindsey's a bit sick. She's thrown up and is running a bit of a temperature. Normally I won't have rung and let her stay here, but she said you were working, so I thought it might be best to ring you so you can take her home."
"Sure. I'll be over there soon. Thank you."
"Ok, I'll see you then. Bye."
He hung up the phone and thought about asking Cath to pick her up, but he decided to leave her be. Instead he grabbed his jacket and headed to the break room. Nick sat fidgeting restlessly in a chair, but shot Grissom a murderous glare when he entered. Gris chose to ignore it and walked up to Warrick who was fixing the coffee machine. "We need a new one Grissom," Warrick commented, as he carried on fiddling about with the mechanics.
"I need to go and pick up Lindsey," He told the other CSI in a low whisper.
"She ok?"
"Yeah, just a bit sick. I'll have my phone with me, so call me if anything comes up."
"Sure."
And with that, disregarding Nick's venomous look, he left.
~*~*~*~*~
"Uncle Grissom?" Lindsey whispered as her eyes droopily opened.
He smiled softly down at the girl. She was curled up in a bed upstairs, her skin was very pale and her forehead burned with a temperature. Gently, he stroked her hair. "Hey honey. How are you feeling?"
She shook her head weakly in response and Grissom carefully picked her up. "I'm taking you home, ok sweetheart?" He turned to Mrs Geller. "Thank you."
"Not a problem." Shrieking of over excited children seeped in from downstairs. She laughed, "I'm surprised this one could sleep with all this racket. I can't."
They walked downstairs to find a cluster of children waiting for them. There was a chorus of 'bye's and 'get well soon', as they walked through the door. Grissom placed her into the front passenger seat in the SUV and fastened the seatbelt for her.
The journey was travelled in silence; Grissom thoughts had wondered back to the case and he had a feeling that Lindsey had fallen asleep. Either way, she was awake when the car pulled into the drive of their house. He went to pick her up again, except she got out herself. "I'm alright," She murmured groggily.
For the first time that night, a small smile touched his lip, as he realised she was as stubborn and strong-minded as her mother. He led her to the front door and stopped abruptly.
The sight of the keys still hanging in the lock froze his heart and stole the colour from his face. He pressed a hand firmly on Lindsey's should to stop her moving any closer. "What's wrong Uncle Grissom?"
"Sweetheart, you know how to use my phone right?" He asked her, trying to keep the panic from his voice. She nodded even though his question confused her. "Good. I want you to go back to the car and lock the doors after you get in. Then I want you to call Uncle Jim and tell him we have a possible 418, ok?"
"Ok," She replied unsurely.
"And tell him to bring Uncle Warrick and Nick. Can you do that for me honey?" He requested.
"Sure."
"Good girl."
He made sure that she was safely back in the car, before he slid on his gloves and slowly opened the unlocked door. The house was eerily quiet; the usual feeling of life had vanished. His hand clasped around his gun just in case. "Cath? Catherine?" He called into the shadows, only to be answered by silence.
Carefully, he checked each empty room, his fear mounting with every door. Finally he reached their bedroom. As he turned the handle, he prayed he would find Catherine asleep in the bed. All he found was an unmade bed; empty like the rest of the house.
Something caught his eye in the midst his anxiety. He walked over to find a box on the floor with a photo lying on top. He knelt down beside to examine it and instantly recognised the face of their new Jane Doe. Next to her stood Portia and, finally, his eyes landed on Catherine. His worst fears were slowly being confirmed by the terrible truth.
A/N: Ha, did you see that one coming? The usual thoughts, feelings, comments, rambles, etc are welcome. So go on and hit that button NOW!!! Put a smile on my face! Lol :o)