Chapter Three- One Step Closer

Catherine Willows had just returned to headquarters from processing a scene. It was an

easy case, a no-brainer. A husband had arrived early from work to find his wife of fifteen years in bed with another man...his best friend to be exact. Enraged, the betrayed man had went to his closet where he admittedly kept a Colt. 45, and shot the lover first, then his wife. Then called the cops and told them what he had done.

Homicide and Catherine were called to the scene and everything checked out. Plus, the husband confessed. Slam-dunk case.

So she was sitting in the break room when Grissom and Sara came in.

She had just grabbed a coke, and had leaned back against the sofa when she saw them walk in. She watched, idly, not bothering to get up. She'd see them in a minute...

But wait... her sharp blue eyes narrowed and she leaned forward unconsciously.

Grissom and Sara were walking down the hallway, close together. Very close. Hands occasionally brushing.

Catherine frowned. This was way out of character for Grissom. He was not a touchy-feely man, he went out of the way to have his own space.

So why was he and Sara practically holding hands?

Catherine watched with interest until the two disappeared around a corner, and leaned back against the sofa. Thoughtfully, she tapped a fingernail against a tooth, thinking.

And a slow smile spread across her pretty face.

"Hmm." she murmured and took another swallow of her coke.

It looked like Grissom and Sara were getting one step closer to a relationship.

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Sara took the trace evidence to Greg, Grissom saying he'd meet her in a minute. Then he went to Brass's office, knocked on the door.

"Yeah?"

"Heard anything?" Grissom asked, standing in the doorway...and hoped to god that his friend noticed nothing unusual.

"No. No ransom note, no call, zip, zero, 'nothin." Brass said.

"Okay. I just wanted to check in. Sara and I are going to go run some prints we found on that fake rock, and some in the girl's room."

Brass nodded, "Hope something turns up."

"You and me both."

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Sara was already seated at the computer, running the prints through AFIS. Greg Sanders sat next to her, and when Grissom came in, he spun, and gave him his trademark beam.

"Hey Grissom. We have some hits from AFIS already."

He advanced until he was standing next to them, "What do you have so far?"

"Well, you found twelve prints on the rock. We've scanned three of hit, and we just got a hit on one of 'em. The others were partials, and I'll compare to thee full ones."

"Who?"

Greg's smile faded, "The father, Alexander Davenport."

"Well, remember we still haven't eliminated him as a suspect. Remember, our guy used a key...and knew exactly where it was."

Greg nodded, and scanned another print, the computer hummed for a few minutes, then Result Found, spit out.

"Ohh-kay, let's see who print number four belongs to." Greg clicked with the mouse, and his shoulders slumped, "Mother's prints."

"Keep going."

Greg did, with the same results until print number eight.

"Hey, wait a second. Gris!" Greg was practically hopping in his seat.

"What is it Greg?"

"We have prints belonging to a Andrew Jonathan Davenport." Greg said, his head swiveling towards to Grissom.

"A relative to Alex Davenport? Maybe he had a legitimate reason to use the key, but it's a start. But, we'll need something else. Let's go talk to the Davenports again, particularly Alex Davenport. Ask him if he has a brother, or a relative who had reason or not to use that spare key." Grissom turned, "Finish running the rest while we're gone."