Out of Time: Chapter 5
A/N: Sorry everyone for taking so long. I'll have the next chapter up in a week, I swear.
**************** Tim closed the door and leaned up against it, relief evident on his face. He should have been an actor instead of computer geek extraordinaire. They were clueless. Granted they had managed to track him down, but they clearly weren't close to pinning anything on him. They were so oblivious; they didn't even notice his decor.
Tim left the front door and strolled leisurely around his living room. It was calming to be around the things he loved so much. He paused to wipe some dust off a ceramic elephant and think about his visitors. It was truly an experience to meet the famous Gil Grissom face to face, especially when Tim knew he had the advantage. He enjoyed watching him struggle to catch up. The past few weeks had not been kind to him and Tim loved watching Grissom's deterioration. That Catherine didn't seem as affected though. Of course she was too vain not to spend hours primping in front a mirror while her coworker was missing. Some men might find her attractive, but not him. She was too artificial. Now Sara, Sara was real.
While Tim was not overly concerned about the visit from the investigators, he knew he had to speed up his time line a bit. Eventually they would come back, and his work needed to be finished when they did
**************** Catherine and Gil drove in silence back to the lab. They had been up for over 24 hours, and while their disheveled appearances suggested they were worn out, both their minds were racing. Their visit to Mr. Foster had proved more fruitful than either of them had expected.
"What do you think Gil?"
"I'll withhold my judgment until we can check out his story."
"Well he certainly seemed forthcoming." Catherine had a big grin on her as though they had broken the case. Grissom was far less optimistic. Foster had been forthcoming, and chances were that the Police department would have a report of his stolen car. That didn't get them far. That would imply that whoever had Sara had stolen the truck just to move her stuff. There would be no reason to hold on to it. Grissom shook his head and tried to think positively. At least they had Mr. Foster's fingerprints now.
"Let's wait and see what the computer pulls up."
***************** "Hey Sar. How are you feeling today?" Tim sat down on the bed next to her as he always did, looking concerned and cheerful at the same time, as if there was no place he'd rather be. Sara turned to look at him and almost smiled before she caught herself.
"Hi Tim. Aren't you a little later than usual?" She had no watch or clock, so her sense of time was seriously skewed. Still she was much hungrier than usual and she strained to see what he had brought her.
"I should have known you'd notice. You are so observant; no wonder you're so good at your job." He broke off as Sara's eyes narrowed, as if she didn't believe him. "You don't get many compliments do you?"
Sara suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "No. I ummm. Thanks. So, what have you got there?"
"Fresh fruit salad, orange juice and toast. I thought you could use a light breakfast after last night."
Sara blushed. "Thank you. I did eat a lot. The cheesecake was great. Where did you get it?"
He smiled at her embarrassment. "Calandra's. It's my favorite bakery. Their bread is great too."
Sara sat up and started eating, at ease even with her captor sitting so close to her. She was focused on her food when it hit her just how far she had fallen. She was so pathetic that even the attentions of a psychotic kidnapper we welcome now. What was worse was that she didn't care. She knew it was wrong, but couldn't bring herself to fight the familiarity growing between them.
***************** "Catherine?"
"Okay. I checked with Brass. Mr. Foster did report his car stolen the day before it was probably used to pick up Sara's possessions at the storage place. We've put out an APB on it. Maybe we'll get lucky."
"Good. Nick?"
"I checked Tim Foster's background. Moved here four years ago. Freelance computer programmer. Originally from a small town in Montana. He went to a small trade school there but according to his employers he is mostly self taught. He has no record except for a few parking tickets."
"So his story checks out. By the way, Nick your idea worked great."
"Really?"
It was Warrick's turn to speak up. "Yeah man. I got good prints from every person we visited. The photograph of the "victim" was a perfect surface."
"Great. Did you get any matches?" Nick looked hopeful.
"Nothing great. Gaming licenses, a few misdemeanors, but their alibis check out."
"Damn. So now what?"
Grissom stood up before ending the meeting. "We work the evidence. What little there is. And hope something new turns up."
*****************
"I brought you some clean clothes." Tim walked over to the bed and laid out a pair of black pants, a tank top and some underwear. Sara was actually grateful. She really did need to change.
Sara laid the clothes Tim had brought on the sink and looked in the mirror. She really didn't look like she had been kidnapped or hurt in any way. She was significantly paler from being kept out of the sun for so long and had some wicked circles under her eyes, but she definitely hadn't lost any weight. Sara stripped and stepped into the shower, reveling in the way the hot water scoured her clean. She reached for her shampoo and thought back to the first time she had showered in here. She had been terrified that Tim would come in. That had been the fastest shower she'd ever had.
Now, she felt at ease and barely noticed that everything, from the toothpaste to the shampoo was her brand. Sara toweled off and started to dress. Her pants fit, but they were a little tighter than she remembered. Now they looked more like something Catherine would wear. Tim really was taking good care of her. She couldn't remember when she'd eaten so well.
Sara finished dressing and left the bathroom. She sat, patient and unresisting, as Tim refastened her wrist to the bed. It was a reminder that none of this was normal and of the power that he continued to hold over her. Yet even this daily ritual was becoming less important to her. It was just a fact of life now.
***************** Grissom sat hunched in his chair behind his desk; head in his hands in what was quickly becoming a cliché around the lab. Since they had realized that Sara hadn't abandoned them but had been taken, the raucous energy that had once permeated the night, now lay buried under the oppressive torment of ignorance. It was the not knowing that nearly crippled them all. And so they sat, whenever they had a free moment, heads in their hands, lost to each other.
Gil knew his team was falling apart, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Days had passed since their last lead and what little hope he'd had left was quickly fading. He went through each night mechanically, doing his job oblivious to the world around him. He'd decided that he was getting too old for this. Decades of seeing the worst of humanity had taken its toll. It was time to let someone younger, with more energy and ambition take over. If Sara's case remained stalled, then next month he'd resign. There was nothing to keep him there anymore.
*****************
"So you're not originally from Vegas?"
"No. I'm from Montana actually."
Sara smiled. It was refreshing to have a normal conversation with someone. Well, as normal as it could be with her wrist still chained to the bad. "So you're a transplant like me. How did you wind up here?"
"Montana just wasn't big enough for me." Tim laughed. "Not the state, but the towns. I grew up in a tiny town. It was like a time warp, with a decrepit old main street from the fifties. I did well in school and dreamed of escaping. Contrary to popular opinion, small towns aren't all full of love and community. They were close-minded, nosy people. I got out as soon as I could."
Tim surprised himself with how much he was revealing. He really didn't like to talk about his past. He had worked hard to transform himself, to shake off his past. He hadn't had any contact with his family in years. All they would want from him is money. He might be a nerd by most standards, but he was a successful one.
But now he was on the verge of stripping away his new self simply to please the woman sitting next to him. Sara was simply intoxicating. She made him want to confess his deepest and darkest secrets to her. He worshiped her as much as he needed to possess her.
***************** Brass stood outside Grissom's office and looked in. His friend seemed to have aged ten years. He sat slumped over, his hair and beard looking unkempt and completely unaware of Jim's presence. "Gil. You might want to call your team together."
Gil started and looked up tiredly. "What is it Jim?"
"We found the truck."
Grissom was on his feet instantly. He grabbed his kit and started for the door. "The truck?! That's great! Have them bring it to the garage."
"Already take care of. But Gil, there's something else."
"What?"
"There was someone inside."
*****************
"You're kidding. A cattle ranch?"
"Yep. We had cattle, sheep and a lot of random pets."
"Like what?"
"Well, we had a sheltie named Sally. She looked exactly like a miniature Lassie. And about ten cats, though only one, Trail, lived in the house. The others were barn cats. Then there were the hurt wild animals that my sister took in. A raccoon, a possum, even a bat."
"That's so cool. We never had any real pets; my mom's allergic. All we ever had was fish, and they never lasted long. I was always jealous of my friends with dogs." Sara smiled and looked at Tim a little closer. "You know you don't really seem like someone who."
"What? I don't seem like a hick or white trash?" Tim knew he sounded defensive, but he couldn't help it.
Sara looked harshly at him. "I wasn't going to say that. Don't put words into my mouth." Her eyes softened as she continued. "I was going to say that you seem so at ease here in Vegas. It's hard to picture you riding the open ranges or roping cattle."
Tim laughed. "Well you sure have a romantic notion of ranch life. We didn't have horses. They're not exactly practical. We had pickups and ATV's."
Sara grinned. "No. ATVs are not nearly as romantic as horses. I take it you didn't want to be a rancher."
"With cattle, you're lucky to break even and the land isn't good for much else. It's dirty, smelly work and it never ends."
She looked hard at him. He seemed so passionate. No one had even been so forthcoming with her. No one had ever felt so comfortable that they could confide in her. It felt good to have him trust her so completely. "Does your family still live up there?"
"Yeah. Montana's full of families that have been doing the same thing for generations on the same piece of earth. It sounds like a cliché, but we're bound to the earth we work. It's hard to get out."
"But you did."
Tim smiled. "Yes."
*****************
"I swear on my Grandma. I'm telling you the truth."
"Right Mr. Strausser. You just happened to find the truck after someone else already stole it." Brass leaned forward
"Yeah! The ignition was broken and everything."
"I see. And how long ago was this."
"Almost two months now. Man it's been a sweet ride. Can I keep it?"
"I think the owner might want it back. Now let's talk about Sara."
"I don't know no Sara."
"You see now we have a problem. I was ready to believe that story about you stealing a stolen truck, but that truck was used in the abduction of a friend of mine."
"I'm telling you. I don't know what you're talking about."
Grissom had managed to stay out of it until now. Brass was the cop, more experienced in interrogations, but this was maddening. "Cut the crap, you sorry son of a bitch. You know where she is. Tell me where she is!"
"I. I don't."
"You. You.Don't?" Grissom's voice was low, dangerous and mocking. "You know something, and you're going to tell me right now or I'll see to it that you never spend another day outside of jail."
"Grissom!" Nick's voice interrupted Grissom's rant. "We need to talk."
******************
"I was always good in school. Especially in math. I was a geek, couldn't play football so I got picked on a lot. From an early age I knew I wanted to get out of there."
"How did you?"
"I saved up and bought a computer. It was like a new world was opened up to me. I taught myself to program games. When I graduated high school, I wanted to go away to college, but couldn't afford it. I probably could have gotten a scholarship but my folks wanted me to work on the ranch. My aunt convinced them to let me go to a technical school about 200 miles away." Tim got up and started walking around the room. "When I was done with that, I left."
"What do you mean, you left?"
"I just picked up and left. I was in Cleveland for a year and then I got the job out here."
"What do your folks think about all this?"
"I haven't spoken with them in years. I called them when I first moved here, but we didn't have much to talk about. I gave up on their way of life and never looked back." Tim sat back down next to Sara and smiled at her. "But I'm glad I did. I met you."
****************** Grissom stormed out of the interrogation room making no effort to hide his annoyance with the younger investigator. "This better be pretty damn important, Nick. Brass and I were a little busy in there."
"You've got the wrong guy."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"The ignition on the truck was popped, but Strausser's prints were not on it."
"That doesn't prove anything, Nick."
"Will you just let me finish? Someone else's prints were on it. They match a set of prints you and Cat brought back."
"Whose are they?"
"Tim Foster's"
"Well that's hardly news. It's his truck."
"Yeah, but we found his partials on an internal part. He must have done it himself."
"But that only make sense if he.."
"Wanted his truck stolen. Griss, he's the one who took her. He's got Sara."
***************
"Your turn Sara. Tell me something about yourself."
"Well, you already know what brought me to Las Vegas."
Tim frowned. "Grissom."
"Yeah, Grissom. Foolish really, to come so far to chase something that wasn't there to begin with."
"You loved him. You didn't have a choice."
"I did. Love him I mean. But I also had a choice. I didn't have to come here."
"Do you still love him?"
"I don't know anymore. I don't know that there's anything left to love. He is a different man now, and not a better one I think. I thought I could wait for him, but."
"I'm sorry he's caused you so much pain."
"I can deal with the pain. But he doesn't even realize what he's done." Sara smiled sadly. "That's really worse isn't it? His fear or even his anger I could handle, but his indifference freezes me."
"I'll never understand how anyone could not appreciate you for the wonderful woman you are Sara."
"I don't want to wait for anyone anymore. I've lost too much time already to hopeless causes. I want to forget it all. I want a new life."
***************
"I should have known." Grissom's knuckles were white as he held the steering wheel in a death grip. "How could I have not known?"
"There's no way we could know. He was just one of many potential suspects. And he was forthcoming when we questioned him." Catherine held her own share of guilt in this, but was determined to keep Grissom's from overwhelming him. She had watched the guilt and pain at Sara's disappearance transform him. He looked older, worn down. Work could hold his attention, and he was as good an investigator as ever but the excitement and joy with which he had tackled his cases was gone.
"I should have been able to tell. It's my job to know. And now he's had her another week." Grissom glanced at Catherine and caught the pity in her eyes. He knew what everyone was thinking but wouldn't say in front of him. He knew the statistics even better than they did. The chances of finding Sara alive after all this time were almost nonexistent. The odds said that Sara was long since dead. He just couldn't say it aloud. If he did, the reality of the situation would be too much to bear. So he drove on, clinging to the slim hope that she was waiting for him *************** Sara sat curled up on the bed with Tim patiently perched nearby. She couldn't believe that she had told him so much, or even admitted it to herself. For someone who prided herself on privacy and keeping her emotions in check, she was talking way too much. Tim just seemed so patient, so caring that it was easy to open up to him. Besides he had been very open and honest, telling her about his childhood.
Sara unwound her body and reached out to touch Tim's hand. "Thank you for listening to my demented ramblings. It actually feels better to talk about it now."
He froze, willing himself not to react to strongly to her touch. She had finally reached out to him and e ad no desire to frighten her away. Slowly, cautiously, he turned his hand so her fingers were entwined with his.
"I'm so glad you're feeling better and that you were so brave to discuss it with me. I'm humbled by your trust.
***************
Gil Grissom stood outside the ring of police officers surrounding 11 Tabor Court feeling utterly useless. He had brought his weapon with him but no one would let him near the house. Everyone had told him to let the professionals do their job and any other time he would have no problem doing just that. He had never felt the need or even the desire to be the hero. He was content to solve the puzzle and leave the rescue to other more adventurous men. But tonight was different. Grissom watched the SWAT members, swathed in black, moving around the house like wraiths. For the first time in his life, he wanted to be one of them. He wanted to be the hero for once.
A raised fist from one of the officers was the only warning of the hell about to be unleashed against Tim Foster. Grissom glanced at the rest of the team anxiously waiting for this ordeal to be over. Even Greg was there, shivering slightly in the cool desert air. Grissom wondered briefly if they felt as helpless as he did.
The attack happened quickly, a concussion grenade shattering the unnatural calm of night. Like a swarm of angry bees, they descended on the place, filling every room with their ghostly forms and shouted orders. They did their job and Grissom waited. ***************
"Did you hear something?" Sara started slightly. It sounded as if something large had hit the house.
"Yeah. It's probably nothing though. Maybe a plane flying too low." Tim struggled not to look at the door. He had a pretty good idea of what the noise was. It really had been only a matter of time. Now he had a just a few minutes before they found the basement. Just a few minutes to finish it. He was so close to winning.
*************** "Sorry Gil. He must have cleared out of here when he realized we were onto him." Brass stood over Grissom who was crouched down staring at the carpet.
"I'll find him. We just treat his house as a crime scene and we'll find clues. I can find them." Grissom kept repeating this in his head with one change. I will find her. I can find her. His mantra was the only thing keeping him from breaking down in front of everyone. He didn't even notice when Brass left him to his own tortured thoughts.
"Hey Grissom!"
Gil got up and walked over to Nick who was staring at a bookshelf. He looked shaken.
"You said that you and Catherine were in here before right?"
"Yes, Nick. But I don't see what that has to do with anything."
"You don't recognize this?" Nick was holding an old, battered bowling pin. He swept his arm out gesturing to the whole living room. "You don't recognize any of this."
Grissom looked blankly at Nick who was growing more agitated by the second.
"Sara got this from her bowling team at Harvard. And that ceramic elephant was a gift from her aunt. She hates it."
Catherine reached out to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Nick. How do you know all this?"
He shrugged her off and glared at the two of them. "All these things were in her apartment. We hung out after work a few times when she first came here." Nick put the pin down and ran a hand through his hair. "Three years and neither of you have ever been to her place? Did you even know where she lived before she disappeared? Did you even care?"
Grissom was spared from answering Nick's accusing voice by Brass.
"Gil. They found a trapdoor in the bedroom."
*************** "You know Sara, I'm glad I've had this time to get to know you so well. You really are a remarkable woman."
"Thanks, but I'm not that special." Sara looked away from his piercing gaze. She had heard him say such things before, but years of going unnoticed and unloved had taken their toll. How could she believe him?
This time however, Tim firmly guided her chin with one hand while the other brushed her hair from her forehead. His eyes held her captive as he moved a little closer. "You are that special. You deserve so much more than pain the past has brought you. You deserve to be loved."
Sara tried to look away, but suddenly felt trapped by the look on his face. It had been so long since she'd seen something like that, she almost didn't recognize it. It was love. Tim truly loved her. Without reservation or shame or fear.
"No." It came out reluctantly, almost as a whimper.
"Yes, Sara. I love you."
Sara shook her head out of his grasp. "You can't. You can't love me."
He took hold of her face again and leaned in until he could feel her desperate breathing against his lips. "I do."
*************** "LVPD! Get the hell away from her!"
SWAT members poured into the basement, assault rifles raised. Grissom and Brass followed quickly but were stopped by the sight in front of them. Sara lay underneath Foster, one arm above her head shackled to the headboard the other wrapped around her captor.
Foster looked up just as two officers tacked him, throwing him off the bed and pinning him to the floor. Grissom was kneeling by Sara a split second later gently brushing her hair from her face.
"Sara? Sara . Are you okay?" Grissom heard his voice breaking as tears of joy threatened to spill. He gently cupped her chin and turned her face so their eyes met.
"What are you doing here Grissom?" A mask of anger descended over her face. She moved her body away from him and broke his contact with her face. "Don't touch me. You never touch me."
Grissom reeled back as if she had slapped him. Something was very wrong. He had envisioned her rescue with himself as her knight in shining armor. He had imagined his tearful admission of his feelings for her and her love and gratitude as he carried her to safety. This was not right.
Through his tears, Grissom saw Tim being hauled to his feet and something in him snapped. He lunged at the man who had kept Sara from him and grabbed his shirt with both hands.
"What did you do to her?! Tell me you sick bastard! What did you do?"
A slow smile spread across Tim's face as he looked past the babbling fool in front of him. Sara was wrapped in a blanket, watching him. Finally, he met Grissom's eyes.
"You're too late. Sara belongs to me now."
......TBC Review and I'll have the next chapter up in a week!
A/N: Sorry everyone for taking so long. I'll have the next chapter up in a week, I swear.
**************** Tim closed the door and leaned up against it, relief evident on his face. He should have been an actor instead of computer geek extraordinaire. They were clueless. Granted they had managed to track him down, but they clearly weren't close to pinning anything on him. They were so oblivious; they didn't even notice his decor.
Tim left the front door and strolled leisurely around his living room. It was calming to be around the things he loved so much. He paused to wipe some dust off a ceramic elephant and think about his visitors. It was truly an experience to meet the famous Gil Grissom face to face, especially when Tim knew he had the advantage. He enjoyed watching him struggle to catch up. The past few weeks had not been kind to him and Tim loved watching Grissom's deterioration. That Catherine didn't seem as affected though. Of course she was too vain not to spend hours primping in front a mirror while her coworker was missing. Some men might find her attractive, but not him. She was too artificial. Now Sara, Sara was real.
While Tim was not overly concerned about the visit from the investigators, he knew he had to speed up his time line a bit. Eventually they would come back, and his work needed to be finished when they did
**************** Catherine and Gil drove in silence back to the lab. They had been up for over 24 hours, and while their disheveled appearances suggested they were worn out, both their minds were racing. Their visit to Mr. Foster had proved more fruitful than either of them had expected.
"What do you think Gil?"
"I'll withhold my judgment until we can check out his story."
"Well he certainly seemed forthcoming." Catherine had a big grin on her as though they had broken the case. Grissom was far less optimistic. Foster had been forthcoming, and chances were that the Police department would have a report of his stolen car. That didn't get them far. That would imply that whoever had Sara had stolen the truck just to move her stuff. There would be no reason to hold on to it. Grissom shook his head and tried to think positively. At least they had Mr. Foster's fingerprints now.
"Let's wait and see what the computer pulls up."
***************** "Hey Sar. How are you feeling today?" Tim sat down on the bed next to her as he always did, looking concerned and cheerful at the same time, as if there was no place he'd rather be. Sara turned to look at him and almost smiled before she caught herself.
"Hi Tim. Aren't you a little later than usual?" She had no watch or clock, so her sense of time was seriously skewed. Still she was much hungrier than usual and she strained to see what he had brought her.
"I should have known you'd notice. You are so observant; no wonder you're so good at your job." He broke off as Sara's eyes narrowed, as if she didn't believe him. "You don't get many compliments do you?"
Sara suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "No. I ummm. Thanks. So, what have you got there?"
"Fresh fruit salad, orange juice and toast. I thought you could use a light breakfast after last night."
Sara blushed. "Thank you. I did eat a lot. The cheesecake was great. Where did you get it?"
He smiled at her embarrassment. "Calandra's. It's my favorite bakery. Their bread is great too."
Sara sat up and started eating, at ease even with her captor sitting so close to her. She was focused on her food when it hit her just how far she had fallen. She was so pathetic that even the attentions of a psychotic kidnapper we welcome now. What was worse was that she didn't care. She knew it was wrong, but couldn't bring herself to fight the familiarity growing between them.
***************** "Catherine?"
"Okay. I checked with Brass. Mr. Foster did report his car stolen the day before it was probably used to pick up Sara's possessions at the storage place. We've put out an APB on it. Maybe we'll get lucky."
"Good. Nick?"
"I checked Tim Foster's background. Moved here four years ago. Freelance computer programmer. Originally from a small town in Montana. He went to a small trade school there but according to his employers he is mostly self taught. He has no record except for a few parking tickets."
"So his story checks out. By the way, Nick your idea worked great."
"Really?"
It was Warrick's turn to speak up. "Yeah man. I got good prints from every person we visited. The photograph of the "victim" was a perfect surface."
"Great. Did you get any matches?" Nick looked hopeful.
"Nothing great. Gaming licenses, a few misdemeanors, but their alibis check out."
"Damn. So now what?"
Grissom stood up before ending the meeting. "We work the evidence. What little there is. And hope something new turns up."
*****************
"I brought you some clean clothes." Tim walked over to the bed and laid out a pair of black pants, a tank top and some underwear. Sara was actually grateful. She really did need to change.
Sara laid the clothes Tim had brought on the sink and looked in the mirror. She really didn't look like she had been kidnapped or hurt in any way. She was significantly paler from being kept out of the sun for so long and had some wicked circles under her eyes, but she definitely hadn't lost any weight. Sara stripped and stepped into the shower, reveling in the way the hot water scoured her clean. She reached for her shampoo and thought back to the first time she had showered in here. She had been terrified that Tim would come in. That had been the fastest shower she'd ever had.
Now, she felt at ease and barely noticed that everything, from the toothpaste to the shampoo was her brand. Sara toweled off and started to dress. Her pants fit, but they were a little tighter than she remembered. Now they looked more like something Catherine would wear. Tim really was taking good care of her. She couldn't remember when she'd eaten so well.
Sara finished dressing and left the bathroom. She sat, patient and unresisting, as Tim refastened her wrist to the bed. It was a reminder that none of this was normal and of the power that he continued to hold over her. Yet even this daily ritual was becoming less important to her. It was just a fact of life now.
***************** Grissom sat hunched in his chair behind his desk; head in his hands in what was quickly becoming a cliché around the lab. Since they had realized that Sara hadn't abandoned them but had been taken, the raucous energy that had once permeated the night, now lay buried under the oppressive torment of ignorance. It was the not knowing that nearly crippled them all. And so they sat, whenever they had a free moment, heads in their hands, lost to each other.
Gil knew his team was falling apart, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Days had passed since their last lead and what little hope he'd had left was quickly fading. He went through each night mechanically, doing his job oblivious to the world around him. He'd decided that he was getting too old for this. Decades of seeing the worst of humanity had taken its toll. It was time to let someone younger, with more energy and ambition take over. If Sara's case remained stalled, then next month he'd resign. There was nothing to keep him there anymore.
*****************
"So you're not originally from Vegas?"
"No. I'm from Montana actually."
Sara smiled. It was refreshing to have a normal conversation with someone. Well, as normal as it could be with her wrist still chained to the bad. "So you're a transplant like me. How did you wind up here?"
"Montana just wasn't big enough for me." Tim laughed. "Not the state, but the towns. I grew up in a tiny town. It was like a time warp, with a decrepit old main street from the fifties. I did well in school and dreamed of escaping. Contrary to popular opinion, small towns aren't all full of love and community. They were close-minded, nosy people. I got out as soon as I could."
Tim surprised himself with how much he was revealing. He really didn't like to talk about his past. He had worked hard to transform himself, to shake off his past. He hadn't had any contact with his family in years. All they would want from him is money. He might be a nerd by most standards, but he was a successful one.
But now he was on the verge of stripping away his new self simply to please the woman sitting next to him. Sara was simply intoxicating. She made him want to confess his deepest and darkest secrets to her. He worshiped her as much as he needed to possess her.
***************** Brass stood outside Grissom's office and looked in. His friend seemed to have aged ten years. He sat slumped over, his hair and beard looking unkempt and completely unaware of Jim's presence. "Gil. You might want to call your team together."
Gil started and looked up tiredly. "What is it Jim?"
"We found the truck."
Grissom was on his feet instantly. He grabbed his kit and started for the door. "The truck?! That's great! Have them bring it to the garage."
"Already take care of. But Gil, there's something else."
"What?"
"There was someone inside."
*****************
"You're kidding. A cattle ranch?"
"Yep. We had cattle, sheep and a lot of random pets."
"Like what?"
"Well, we had a sheltie named Sally. She looked exactly like a miniature Lassie. And about ten cats, though only one, Trail, lived in the house. The others were barn cats. Then there were the hurt wild animals that my sister took in. A raccoon, a possum, even a bat."
"That's so cool. We never had any real pets; my mom's allergic. All we ever had was fish, and they never lasted long. I was always jealous of my friends with dogs." Sara smiled and looked at Tim a little closer. "You know you don't really seem like someone who."
"What? I don't seem like a hick or white trash?" Tim knew he sounded defensive, but he couldn't help it.
Sara looked harshly at him. "I wasn't going to say that. Don't put words into my mouth." Her eyes softened as she continued. "I was going to say that you seem so at ease here in Vegas. It's hard to picture you riding the open ranges or roping cattle."
Tim laughed. "Well you sure have a romantic notion of ranch life. We didn't have horses. They're not exactly practical. We had pickups and ATV's."
Sara grinned. "No. ATVs are not nearly as romantic as horses. I take it you didn't want to be a rancher."
"With cattle, you're lucky to break even and the land isn't good for much else. It's dirty, smelly work and it never ends."
She looked hard at him. He seemed so passionate. No one had even been so forthcoming with her. No one had ever felt so comfortable that they could confide in her. It felt good to have him trust her so completely. "Does your family still live up there?"
"Yeah. Montana's full of families that have been doing the same thing for generations on the same piece of earth. It sounds like a cliché, but we're bound to the earth we work. It's hard to get out."
"But you did."
Tim smiled. "Yes."
*****************
"I swear on my Grandma. I'm telling you the truth."
"Right Mr. Strausser. You just happened to find the truck after someone else already stole it." Brass leaned forward
"Yeah! The ignition was broken and everything."
"I see. And how long ago was this."
"Almost two months now. Man it's been a sweet ride. Can I keep it?"
"I think the owner might want it back. Now let's talk about Sara."
"I don't know no Sara."
"You see now we have a problem. I was ready to believe that story about you stealing a stolen truck, but that truck was used in the abduction of a friend of mine."
"I'm telling you. I don't know what you're talking about."
Grissom had managed to stay out of it until now. Brass was the cop, more experienced in interrogations, but this was maddening. "Cut the crap, you sorry son of a bitch. You know where she is. Tell me where she is!"
"I. I don't."
"You. You.Don't?" Grissom's voice was low, dangerous and mocking. "You know something, and you're going to tell me right now or I'll see to it that you never spend another day outside of jail."
"Grissom!" Nick's voice interrupted Grissom's rant. "We need to talk."
******************
"I was always good in school. Especially in math. I was a geek, couldn't play football so I got picked on a lot. From an early age I knew I wanted to get out of there."
"How did you?"
"I saved up and bought a computer. It was like a new world was opened up to me. I taught myself to program games. When I graduated high school, I wanted to go away to college, but couldn't afford it. I probably could have gotten a scholarship but my folks wanted me to work on the ranch. My aunt convinced them to let me go to a technical school about 200 miles away." Tim got up and started walking around the room. "When I was done with that, I left."
"What do you mean, you left?"
"I just picked up and left. I was in Cleveland for a year and then I got the job out here."
"What do your folks think about all this?"
"I haven't spoken with them in years. I called them when I first moved here, but we didn't have much to talk about. I gave up on their way of life and never looked back." Tim sat back down next to Sara and smiled at her. "But I'm glad I did. I met you."
****************** Grissom stormed out of the interrogation room making no effort to hide his annoyance with the younger investigator. "This better be pretty damn important, Nick. Brass and I were a little busy in there."
"You've got the wrong guy."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"The ignition on the truck was popped, but Strausser's prints were not on it."
"That doesn't prove anything, Nick."
"Will you just let me finish? Someone else's prints were on it. They match a set of prints you and Cat brought back."
"Whose are they?"
"Tim Foster's"
"Well that's hardly news. It's his truck."
"Yeah, but we found his partials on an internal part. He must have done it himself."
"But that only make sense if he.."
"Wanted his truck stolen. Griss, he's the one who took her. He's got Sara."
***************
"Your turn Sara. Tell me something about yourself."
"Well, you already know what brought me to Las Vegas."
Tim frowned. "Grissom."
"Yeah, Grissom. Foolish really, to come so far to chase something that wasn't there to begin with."
"You loved him. You didn't have a choice."
"I did. Love him I mean. But I also had a choice. I didn't have to come here."
"Do you still love him?"
"I don't know anymore. I don't know that there's anything left to love. He is a different man now, and not a better one I think. I thought I could wait for him, but."
"I'm sorry he's caused you so much pain."
"I can deal with the pain. But he doesn't even realize what he's done." Sara smiled sadly. "That's really worse isn't it? His fear or even his anger I could handle, but his indifference freezes me."
"I'll never understand how anyone could not appreciate you for the wonderful woman you are Sara."
"I don't want to wait for anyone anymore. I've lost too much time already to hopeless causes. I want to forget it all. I want a new life."
***************
"I should have known." Grissom's knuckles were white as he held the steering wheel in a death grip. "How could I have not known?"
"There's no way we could know. He was just one of many potential suspects. And he was forthcoming when we questioned him." Catherine held her own share of guilt in this, but was determined to keep Grissom's from overwhelming him. She had watched the guilt and pain at Sara's disappearance transform him. He looked older, worn down. Work could hold his attention, and he was as good an investigator as ever but the excitement and joy with which he had tackled his cases was gone.
"I should have been able to tell. It's my job to know. And now he's had her another week." Grissom glanced at Catherine and caught the pity in her eyes. He knew what everyone was thinking but wouldn't say in front of him. He knew the statistics even better than they did. The chances of finding Sara alive after all this time were almost nonexistent. The odds said that Sara was long since dead. He just couldn't say it aloud. If he did, the reality of the situation would be too much to bear. So he drove on, clinging to the slim hope that she was waiting for him *************** Sara sat curled up on the bed with Tim patiently perched nearby. She couldn't believe that she had told him so much, or even admitted it to herself. For someone who prided herself on privacy and keeping her emotions in check, she was talking way too much. Tim just seemed so patient, so caring that it was easy to open up to him. Besides he had been very open and honest, telling her about his childhood.
Sara unwound her body and reached out to touch Tim's hand. "Thank you for listening to my demented ramblings. It actually feels better to talk about it now."
He froze, willing himself not to react to strongly to her touch. She had finally reached out to him and e ad no desire to frighten her away. Slowly, cautiously, he turned his hand so her fingers were entwined with his.
"I'm so glad you're feeling better and that you were so brave to discuss it with me. I'm humbled by your trust.
***************
Gil Grissom stood outside the ring of police officers surrounding 11 Tabor Court feeling utterly useless. He had brought his weapon with him but no one would let him near the house. Everyone had told him to let the professionals do their job and any other time he would have no problem doing just that. He had never felt the need or even the desire to be the hero. He was content to solve the puzzle and leave the rescue to other more adventurous men. But tonight was different. Grissom watched the SWAT members, swathed in black, moving around the house like wraiths. For the first time in his life, he wanted to be one of them. He wanted to be the hero for once.
A raised fist from one of the officers was the only warning of the hell about to be unleashed against Tim Foster. Grissom glanced at the rest of the team anxiously waiting for this ordeal to be over. Even Greg was there, shivering slightly in the cool desert air. Grissom wondered briefly if they felt as helpless as he did.
The attack happened quickly, a concussion grenade shattering the unnatural calm of night. Like a swarm of angry bees, they descended on the place, filling every room with their ghostly forms and shouted orders. They did their job and Grissom waited. ***************
"Did you hear something?" Sara started slightly. It sounded as if something large had hit the house.
"Yeah. It's probably nothing though. Maybe a plane flying too low." Tim struggled not to look at the door. He had a pretty good idea of what the noise was. It really had been only a matter of time. Now he had a just a few minutes before they found the basement. Just a few minutes to finish it. He was so close to winning.
*************** "Sorry Gil. He must have cleared out of here when he realized we were onto him." Brass stood over Grissom who was crouched down staring at the carpet.
"I'll find him. We just treat his house as a crime scene and we'll find clues. I can find them." Grissom kept repeating this in his head with one change. I will find her. I can find her. His mantra was the only thing keeping him from breaking down in front of everyone. He didn't even notice when Brass left him to his own tortured thoughts.
"Hey Grissom!"
Gil got up and walked over to Nick who was staring at a bookshelf. He looked shaken.
"You said that you and Catherine were in here before right?"
"Yes, Nick. But I don't see what that has to do with anything."
"You don't recognize this?" Nick was holding an old, battered bowling pin. He swept his arm out gesturing to the whole living room. "You don't recognize any of this."
Grissom looked blankly at Nick who was growing more agitated by the second.
"Sara got this from her bowling team at Harvard. And that ceramic elephant was a gift from her aunt. She hates it."
Catherine reached out to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Nick. How do you know all this?"
He shrugged her off and glared at the two of them. "All these things were in her apartment. We hung out after work a few times when she first came here." Nick put the pin down and ran a hand through his hair. "Three years and neither of you have ever been to her place? Did you even know where she lived before she disappeared? Did you even care?"
Grissom was spared from answering Nick's accusing voice by Brass.
"Gil. They found a trapdoor in the bedroom."
*************** "You know Sara, I'm glad I've had this time to get to know you so well. You really are a remarkable woman."
"Thanks, but I'm not that special." Sara looked away from his piercing gaze. She had heard him say such things before, but years of going unnoticed and unloved had taken their toll. How could she believe him?
This time however, Tim firmly guided her chin with one hand while the other brushed her hair from her forehead. His eyes held her captive as he moved a little closer. "You are that special. You deserve so much more than pain the past has brought you. You deserve to be loved."
Sara tried to look away, but suddenly felt trapped by the look on his face. It had been so long since she'd seen something like that, she almost didn't recognize it. It was love. Tim truly loved her. Without reservation or shame or fear.
"No." It came out reluctantly, almost as a whimper.
"Yes, Sara. I love you."
Sara shook her head out of his grasp. "You can't. You can't love me."
He took hold of her face again and leaned in until he could feel her desperate breathing against his lips. "I do."
*************** "LVPD! Get the hell away from her!"
SWAT members poured into the basement, assault rifles raised. Grissom and Brass followed quickly but were stopped by the sight in front of them. Sara lay underneath Foster, one arm above her head shackled to the headboard the other wrapped around her captor.
Foster looked up just as two officers tacked him, throwing him off the bed and pinning him to the floor. Grissom was kneeling by Sara a split second later gently brushing her hair from her face.
"Sara? Sara . Are you okay?" Grissom heard his voice breaking as tears of joy threatened to spill. He gently cupped her chin and turned her face so their eyes met.
"What are you doing here Grissom?" A mask of anger descended over her face. She moved her body away from him and broke his contact with her face. "Don't touch me. You never touch me."
Grissom reeled back as if she had slapped him. Something was very wrong. He had envisioned her rescue with himself as her knight in shining armor. He had imagined his tearful admission of his feelings for her and her love and gratitude as he carried her to safety. This was not right.
Through his tears, Grissom saw Tim being hauled to his feet and something in him snapped. He lunged at the man who had kept Sara from him and grabbed his shirt with both hands.
"What did you do to her?! Tell me you sick bastard! What did you do?"
A slow smile spread across Tim's face as he looked past the babbling fool in front of him. Sara was wrapped in a blanket, watching him. Finally, he met Grissom's eyes.
"You're too late. Sara belongs to me now."
......TBC Review and I'll have the next chapter up in a week!