Chapter 39
The evidence was directly in front of him, but Grissom couldn't wrap his mind around it. A request for a leave-of-absence, duly signed by the sheriff. Carvallo's authorization to hire a temporary replacement along with some extra interns. An envelope with his name neatly printed on it.
He couldn't believe Sara had left; he didn't want to believe it. How could she leave him, after he had exposed himself like that? Had he scared her off? He knew she didn't totally trust him, not after the way he had treated her over the past year, but he had thought things had improved between them. He must have been wrong if all she left was a note.
His eyes darted back to the desk.
The envelope was thicker than he had anticipated. It had to contain several sheets of paper – more of a letter than a note. After several false starts, Grissom gingerly picked it up and turned it over a few times before tapping it against the desk top.
It was sealed, he noticed. Sara must not have wanted anyone to know what was in it. She liked to keep things private. Which is probably why she didn't want to discuss her leaving in the hallway, he told himself.
Letting out a sigh, Grissom angrily tossed the envelope into the trashcan.
What did it matter what it said? She'd left him. Nothing he'd done had been good enough for her. She hadn't even been planning on telling him. Instead, she had been content to slither away without so much as a good-bye while he was out of town.
That wasn't like Sara at all, he told himself.
Ignoring those thoughts, he turned back to the paperwork. Right now, work was the only thing he had. Thanks to her, he wasn't even sure about that. If the rumor mill spread that he had sought out a psychologist's help, it would only be a matter of time before a defense attorney found out. Grissom thought it probably could be explained to a jury, but it did nothing to help his professional standing.
He picked up the authorization form. The interns started next week. They were never a big help, but they did free CSIs from some of the grunt work. Carvallo had already approved hiring some extra ones, since the staff was stretched covering for Sara.
It would take a little while to find her replacement, but it shouldn't be hard to do. The lab was one of the best in the country and received more than 2,000 applications a year. There would be plenty of qualified applicants grateful to take on a temporary position, especially one that had the potential to become permanent.
Or would it?
His eyes found the leave-of-absence request. Four months, that's all. Sara had only asked for four months off.
When she threatened to leave before, she said it would be for six months, maybe even a year.
Was there a chance she would return? Kane had said she needed time away to consider her career options. Had she been planning on returning to Las Vegas? Would she still want to after that confrontation in the hallway?
Grissom let out a long sigh. Why wouldn't she tell him what was wrong? He just needed to know. If it was something he had done wrong, he would have tried to fix it. She could have told him; he would have listened.
Like he did such a good job earlier in the hallway, he told himself.
Yawning, he pushed away those thoughts. The past was the past; there was no way to change what had happened. He couldn't worry about it now. If nothing else, the lab needed him. At least he knew where he stood with work.
Things would be hectic tonight. He would have to tell the team Sara had left, assuming they didn't already know. News traveled fast. They would be distracted and could use extra direction. He was exhausted and needed to sleep if he was to have any chance of functioning himself.
Leaning back in his chair wearily, he scanned his office. So much of his life could be summed up by its contents. It was then that he spotted the splash of purple plush. It had to be one of the ugliest things he'd ever seen. Walking over the shelf, he pulled down the stuffed bear Sara had given him the night of the accident. Why had she insisted he take the thing? He hadn't even bothered to ask why she wanted him to have it.
Grissom turned the bear over in his hands while walking back to the trashcan. Letting out a snort, he threw it away. It was loud, ugly and obnoxious – nothing like Sara. Why would he want to keep that memento? It wasn't like she cared.
'If that's what you really think, you should be glad I'm leaving.'
Grissom ran a weary hand across his face. He wasn't glad. This was probably his fault, but he didn't know where he went wrong. More importantly, he didn't know why he had bothered.
Flipping out the light switch, he moved to close the office door, but paused. After a moment, he slipped his jacket off and went to fish the bear out of the trash. Grissom carefully wrapped the toy in his jacket, not wanting to imagine what kind of rumors would start if he was spotted wandering the hallways with a stuffed animal, especially one that sang off-key.
It wasn't much, but it was all he had left of Sara. Sighing sadly, he turned to leave, but paused again. As an afterthought, he slipped her letter into his pocket before heading back home.
~~~~
"Sara's taken a four-month leave-of-absence. I don't know whether she'll be back at the end of that time or not."
Grissom stated the facts succinctly, trying not to watch his team members. It was obvious that they knew something was wrong when he walked into the break room later that evening. Catherine seemed on the verge of tears, Nick wouldn't look at him and Warrick just stared at the tabletop.
"Look, I know we're all pulling overtime. I know you're … upset. But we need to keep focused. We still have a job to do. We're short a person. We're looking for a replacement, but it'll take some time to go through the interviews."
He tried to keep his voice calm, wondering why his words were bothering him. It certainly caused the others to look at him like he'd grown an extra head.
Then it dawned on him. That speech sounded eerily similar to the one he'd given when Holly Gribbs had been shot. The same speech he used to announce he had asked Sara to come to Las Vegas to investigate. It hadn't been intentional, but it must have seemed cold.
In a perverse way, it fit. Holly had died; his relationship with Sara was dead. Of course, Holly had died quickly. Sara had arrived in Vegas, happy and full of life. Dealing with him for three years had drained that from her. Maybe she was better off without him. If he couldn't even bring himself to read her letter, what could he realistically hope to offer her?
Trying to ignore those thoughts, Grissom quickly handed out the night's assignments. The mixture of confusion, pity and worry emanating from the other CSIs was making him uncomfortable. As he passed each lab, he was subjected to another stare. At least no one seemed amused this evening, showing their self-preservation instincts were intact.
He headed to the sanctuary of the garage. Quietly, he set up his experiment, balancing the bowling ball carefully on the board. It seemed unlikely the deceased had left a 16-pound object sitting on a closet shelf where it could roll off accidentally, but stranger things had happened.
"Gil?"
"I'm busy, Catherine," he sighed, knowing that it would only a matter time before she butted in.
"Don't do this," she said softly.
"It's my job." His response was deliberately cold. He hoped she would take the hint to leave him alone.
"You know what I mean. Don't shut us out. We want to help."
"Catherine, I think it's safe to say you've helped enough," he said more sharply than he had intended.
"I'm sorry," she answered contritely.
"So am I," Grissom said softly, letting out a sigh. The others had been looking after Sara; he shouldn't blame them, but right now he didn't want to deal with the emotional fallout. "Excuse me, I have work to do."
"Gil, this isn't what Sara wanted. She was afraid you'd run back to your own private world."
"You knew?" Grissom exclaimed sharply, whirling around to face her. "You knew Sara was leaving and you didn't tell me? God, Catherine, why the hell not?"
"I didn't know," she said, holding out her hands as she stepped back from the angry man. "Not for sure, anyway. I suspected. Sara mentioned she wasn't sure if she'd been able to return to the job. I think she was considering going back to grad school."
"Then how do you know this isn't 'what she wanted'?" he asked sarcastically.
"She left letters for us. The team, Greg, Doc, David. Don't know who else. She asked me to look out for you. Sara was afraid this would hurt you."
"Imagine that," he snorted.
"Gil, she needs to get herself together. Didn't she explain it you? I heard you, uhm, talked to her earlier."
He turned to glare at her. "No, Catherine, she didn't explain it to me. She just left."
She cocked her head in surprise. It seemed odd that Sara would have left without telling him her reasons.
"Look, I don't know what's going on. All I know is that she was worried about you. That she wanted to make sure you were okay until she got back. Gil, remember what I told you before: Sara just needs time."
He sat down slowly on the bench, trying to understand what she was telling him. Sara had been planning on returning? She was worried about him? Or was it something she had told Catherine to appease him?
"I'm sorry. Look, come talk to me when you're ready, okay? I've got to get to my case, but later, we'll grab something to drink. Gil?"
"Go ahead, Catherine. Don't keep Brass waiting."
~~~~~
"Grissom," he answered groggily. Turning over, he saw it was 10:17 a.m. Thirty-two minutes since he headed to bed.
"Good morning, Gil. I hope I didn't wake you."
"Philip? What's wrong?" Grissom asked, yawning deeply. He was exhausted; talking to the overly-friendly psychologist wasn't an appealing idea.
"I was going to ask you the same thing. You didn't make your appointment, and you didn't call to cancel."
He groaned as he rolled onto his back. Did Kane honestly think he'd continue the sessions now? There wasn't any reason to continue to expose himself. "What's the point, Philip? Sara left."
"You make it sound like that's a permanent situation."
Grissom's eyes snapped open. "It's not?"
"I take it you never read Sara's letter," Kane said evenly, waiting a moment to see if there would be a response. "Gil, go back to sleep. When you wake up, read the letter, then call me. I think you will find it very … edifying. I'll talk to you later."
Grissom stared at the phone, feeling very much awake.
The evidence was directly in front of him, but Grissom couldn't wrap his mind around it. A request for a leave-of-absence, duly signed by the sheriff. Carvallo's authorization to hire a temporary replacement along with some extra interns. An envelope with his name neatly printed on it.
He couldn't believe Sara had left; he didn't want to believe it. How could she leave him, after he had exposed himself like that? Had he scared her off? He knew she didn't totally trust him, not after the way he had treated her over the past year, but he had thought things had improved between them. He must have been wrong if all she left was a note.
His eyes darted back to the desk.
The envelope was thicker than he had anticipated. It had to contain several sheets of paper – more of a letter than a note. After several false starts, Grissom gingerly picked it up and turned it over a few times before tapping it against the desk top.
It was sealed, he noticed. Sara must not have wanted anyone to know what was in it. She liked to keep things private. Which is probably why she didn't want to discuss her leaving in the hallway, he told himself.
Letting out a sigh, Grissom angrily tossed the envelope into the trashcan.
What did it matter what it said? She'd left him. Nothing he'd done had been good enough for her. She hadn't even been planning on telling him. Instead, she had been content to slither away without so much as a good-bye while he was out of town.
That wasn't like Sara at all, he told himself.
Ignoring those thoughts, he turned back to the paperwork. Right now, work was the only thing he had. Thanks to her, he wasn't even sure about that. If the rumor mill spread that he had sought out a psychologist's help, it would only be a matter of time before a defense attorney found out. Grissom thought it probably could be explained to a jury, but it did nothing to help his professional standing.
He picked up the authorization form. The interns started next week. They were never a big help, but they did free CSIs from some of the grunt work. Carvallo had already approved hiring some extra ones, since the staff was stretched covering for Sara.
It would take a little while to find her replacement, but it shouldn't be hard to do. The lab was one of the best in the country and received more than 2,000 applications a year. There would be plenty of qualified applicants grateful to take on a temporary position, especially one that had the potential to become permanent.
Or would it?
His eyes found the leave-of-absence request. Four months, that's all. Sara had only asked for four months off.
When she threatened to leave before, she said it would be for six months, maybe even a year.
Was there a chance she would return? Kane had said she needed time away to consider her career options. Had she been planning on returning to Las Vegas? Would she still want to after that confrontation in the hallway?
Grissom let out a long sigh. Why wouldn't she tell him what was wrong? He just needed to know. If it was something he had done wrong, he would have tried to fix it. She could have told him; he would have listened.
Like he did such a good job earlier in the hallway, he told himself.
Yawning, he pushed away those thoughts. The past was the past; there was no way to change what had happened. He couldn't worry about it now. If nothing else, the lab needed him. At least he knew where he stood with work.
Things would be hectic tonight. He would have to tell the team Sara had left, assuming they didn't already know. News traveled fast. They would be distracted and could use extra direction. He was exhausted and needed to sleep if he was to have any chance of functioning himself.
Leaning back in his chair wearily, he scanned his office. So much of his life could be summed up by its contents. It was then that he spotted the splash of purple plush. It had to be one of the ugliest things he'd ever seen. Walking over the shelf, he pulled down the stuffed bear Sara had given him the night of the accident. Why had she insisted he take the thing? He hadn't even bothered to ask why she wanted him to have it.
Grissom turned the bear over in his hands while walking back to the trashcan. Letting out a snort, he threw it away. It was loud, ugly and obnoxious – nothing like Sara. Why would he want to keep that memento? It wasn't like she cared.
'If that's what you really think, you should be glad I'm leaving.'
Grissom ran a weary hand across his face. He wasn't glad. This was probably his fault, but he didn't know where he went wrong. More importantly, he didn't know why he had bothered.
Flipping out the light switch, he moved to close the office door, but paused. After a moment, he slipped his jacket off and went to fish the bear out of the trash. Grissom carefully wrapped the toy in his jacket, not wanting to imagine what kind of rumors would start if he was spotted wandering the hallways with a stuffed animal, especially one that sang off-key.
It wasn't much, but it was all he had left of Sara. Sighing sadly, he turned to leave, but paused again. As an afterthought, he slipped her letter into his pocket before heading back home.
~~~~
"Sara's taken a four-month leave-of-absence. I don't know whether she'll be back at the end of that time or not."
Grissom stated the facts succinctly, trying not to watch his team members. It was obvious that they knew something was wrong when he walked into the break room later that evening. Catherine seemed on the verge of tears, Nick wouldn't look at him and Warrick just stared at the tabletop.
"Look, I know we're all pulling overtime. I know you're … upset. But we need to keep focused. We still have a job to do. We're short a person. We're looking for a replacement, but it'll take some time to go through the interviews."
He tried to keep his voice calm, wondering why his words were bothering him. It certainly caused the others to look at him like he'd grown an extra head.
Then it dawned on him. That speech sounded eerily similar to the one he'd given when Holly Gribbs had been shot. The same speech he used to announce he had asked Sara to come to Las Vegas to investigate. It hadn't been intentional, but it must have seemed cold.
In a perverse way, it fit. Holly had died; his relationship with Sara was dead. Of course, Holly had died quickly. Sara had arrived in Vegas, happy and full of life. Dealing with him for three years had drained that from her. Maybe she was better off without him. If he couldn't even bring himself to read her letter, what could he realistically hope to offer her?
Trying to ignore those thoughts, Grissom quickly handed out the night's assignments. The mixture of confusion, pity and worry emanating from the other CSIs was making him uncomfortable. As he passed each lab, he was subjected to another stare. At least no one seemed amused this evening, showing their self-preservation instincts were intact.
He headed to the sanctuary of the garage. Quietly, he set up his experiment, balancing the bowling ball carefully on the board. It seemed unlikely the deceased had left a 16-pound object sitting on a closet shelf where it could roll off accidentally, but stranger things had happened.
"Gil?"
"I'm busy, Catherine," he sighed, knowing that it would only a matter time before she butted in.
"Don't do this," she said softly.
"It's my job." His response was deliberately cold. He hoped she would take the hint to leave him alone.
"You know what I mean. Don't shut us out. We want to help."
"Catherine, I think it's safe to say you've helped enough," he said more sharply than he had intended.
"I'm sorry," she answered contritely.
"So am I," Grissom said softly, letting out a sigh. The others had been looking after Sara; he shouldn't blame them, but right now he didn't want to deal with the emotional fallout. "Excuse me, I have work to do."
"Gil, this isn't what Sara wanted. She was afraid you'd run back to your own private world."
"You knew?" Grissom exclaimed sharply, whirling around to face her. "You knew Sara was leaving and you didn't tell me? God, Catherine, why the hell not?"
"I didn't know," she said, holding out her hands as she stepped back from the angry man. "Not for sure, anyway. I suspected. Sara mentioned she wasn't sure if she'd been able to return to the job. I think she was considering going back to grad school."
"Then how do you know this isn't 'what she wanted'?" he asked sarcastically.
"She left letters for us. The team, Greg, Doc, David. Don't know who else. She asked me to look out for you. Sara was afraid this would hurt you."
"Imagine that," he snorted.
"Gil, she needs to get herself together. Didn't she explain it you? I heard you, uhm, talked to her earlier."
He turned to glare at her. "No, Catherine, she didn't explain it to me. She just left."
She cocked her head in surprise. It seemed odd that Sara would have left without telling him her reasons.
"Look, I don't know what's going on. All I know is that she was worried about you. That she wanted to make sure you were okay until she got back. Gil, remember what I told you before: Sara just needs time."
He sat down slowly on the bench, trying to understand what she was telling him. Sara had been planning on returning? She was worried about him? Or was it something she had told Catherine to appease him?
"I'm sorry. Look, come talk to me when you're ready, okay? I've got to get to my case, but later, we'll grab something to drink. Gil?"
"Go ahead, Catherine. Don't keep Brass waiting."
~~~~~
"Grissom," he answered groggily. Turning over, he saw it was 10:17 a.m. Thirty-two minutes since he headed to bed.
"Good morning, Gil. I hope I didn't wake you."
"Philip? What's wrong?" Grissom asked, yawning deeply. He was exhausted; talking to the overly-friendly psychologist wasn't an appealing idea.
"I was going to ask you the same thing. You didn't make your appointment, and you didn't call to cancel."
He groaned as he rolled onto his back. Did Kane honestly think he'd continue the sessions now? There wasn't any reason to continue to expose himself. "What's the point, Philip? Sara left."
"You make it sound like that's a permanent situation."
Grissom's eyes snapped open. "It's not?"
"I take it you never read Sara's letter," Kane said evenly, waiting a moment to see if there would be a response. "Gil, go back to sleep. When you wake up, read the letter, then call me. I think you will find it very … edifying. I'll talk to you later."
Grissom stared at the phone, feeling very much awake.