Sara met Doc Robbins by the body.
"Are you done?" she asked as soon as she could be heard.
He shook his head sadly.
"The car was definitely what finished her off. But she was badly beaten before then. Either one and she would have survived, I think, but the shock of the car accident on top of her existing injuries was too much."
He showed Sara the bruising from the car tyres across the woman's middle. And the ligature marks on her wrists.
"See these," he motioned to bruising across the woman's stomach, "Narrow, more rope. She was tied to the tree sitting up. I took her prints."
He handed her the file. She took it without paying it any attention.
"Yes, there's more," he said.
He lifted the sheet off her chest. Under and below her left breast were fresh cuts.
"They look like, an ant, I think," the doctor said unsure, "and a few random cuts."
"Sticks," Sara said softly after a moment.
Doc Robbins nodded. He didn't press it. He let Sara take photos of the cuts and the tyre tracks across the woman's lower body.
"Call me when you've done a rape kit," she said.
She left in the same slow daze she come in in.
Sara dropped the prints into the trace lab. Kelly was there to put them through AFIS. The woman's name was Pauline Hauser. She was 24 years old, 5' 8.5", 102, pounds. She lived opposite the park. Satisfied that she had enough to go to Grissom with Sara held her information gingerly and went in search of her boss.
He was in his office reading through his own notes on the robbery he'd taken. He didn't notice when she entered. He did notice Sara come in, but he couldn't bring himself to respond.
"It's rape," she said, without any preamble.
That got his attention. The information didn't as much as the lack of emotion in her voice. He merely looked at her.
"Pauline Hauser, she was beaten and raped in the park. The attacker left her and she crawled to the road. She was hit by a car. The combination of the existing injuries and the car accident killed her."
"Anything else?"
She didn't say anything. Instead, she handed him the file of photos from the body and Pauline Hauser's person information. Grissom didn't open the file straight away.
"I want off the case," Sara told him.
"It's your case. What's up?"
"I don't want to do it. I want it done right, and I'm not the one for that."
"I can do it."
"No, Nick and Warrick have got it."
"What were you doing at Nick's house?" Grissom asked.
He tried to keep his voice as neutrally curious as possible. He failed. He didn't sound jealous, but he sound more interested than he had when he had asked Sara what was wrong. 'Of all the things he could care about,' she thought, 'it had to be this?!'
"It's really none of your business," she told Grissom, as coldly as she could.
"I am your supervisor," he reminded her.
"So you should be worried about the fact that you're keeping me from my paper work," she retorted.
"If you're seeing another CSI—"
"Bullshit, Grissom!"
His eyes widened. She choked back a bitter laugh at surprising him so much.
"I could have spent the night with anyone in this building except you and Mobley and possibly Brass. The only person who would have had a problem is Eckley. I'm not supposed to be here, I'm going home."
Grissom couldn't say anything until long after she had slammed the door closed. He couldn't work out what had happened. As many times as he went over the conversation, he couldn't work out what had set her off. As troubling as his relationship with Sara was, Grissom had never been quite so effectively poleaxed.
Nick disturbed his reverie. He was probably the worst person to want to speak to Grissom right then, except maybe Eckley.
"My case?" he started.
"Yes," Grissom answered curtly.
"It was rape. Doc said forced penetration, but no DNA, nothing there."
"So?"
"So. He used a condom. Sara said that he masked his own sent with perfume. We could smell it on the body, but there was nothing to pick up. We've got a phantom rapist, Grissom."
Grissom sighed.
"You'd better get to work then, Nick, find out what you can."
"I'm on it. I wanted to know if you'd seen Sara."
"She left about, oh, twenty minutes ago," Grissom told the young man dismissively.
"Home?"
"Yeah, I assume so. Unless she went back to your place to wait for you."
Nick ignored the sarcasm. If Sara was hurting, then he really didn't care what he did to Grissom.
"But it's her case."
"She gave it to you. She went home. She said she wanted it done properly and she trusted you to do that."
Grissom's tone said he wanted Nick out of his office and that Sara's trust was biased. Nick swore under his breath. He didn't know if it was at Grissom, the rapist or himself. He left without a glance at Grissom. It only screwed Grissom's anger tighter.
Nick grabbed his phone as he marched out of Grissom's office. He dialled Sara's number without thinking. She answered after maybe eight rings.
"Sidle."
"Hey, it's Nick," he said, carefully.
"Hey, Nick," Sara let out the breath she had been holding.
"You left?" he asked. He realised it might be the wrong question, but not soon enough to change it. He held his breath.
"Yeah. I can't take it Nick. You're good. Be thorough, all that."
"You okay?" he asked.
"I'll be fine," Sara assured him, and she sounded it. "I'm too angry to sleep. And even if I did I'd only dream of killing Grissom."
"Okay, I'll call you if I have anything?"
"Please. You didn't get any DNA, did you?" she sounded hopeful.
"No. But it was rape. Unless it was her first time, I've got to contact her parents."
"Yeah, I thought so. Call me."
Sara hung up before Nick could promise that he would.
