A/N: Closing in on the end. Same disclaimers apply.

Chapter 9: In Search of

"Sara?" Grissom jogged down the corridor, to where it joined the main lobby of the Luxor. His voice rose as he called out, "Sara?" God, where was she? He'd only been gone a short time, how could they have disappeared so quickly? For a moment, he was seized with a vision of Jacob Summers' hands around Sara's throat, squeezing the life out of her as he had done Clarence Simmons. The thought paralyzed him, and for a minute he just stood, staring into the lobby of the Luxor, his hand reaching out unsteadily to grasp the wall beside him. He blinked forcefully then tuned on his heel and raced back to the conference room where Summer's talk had been scheduled. He yanked open the door to "Time, Space, and Thought... Journeys in Metaphysics" so hard it banged against the wall as he stepped into the room. Heads turned in his direction, but Grissom couldn't find the only one that mattered. He turned, stepping back into the corridor, letting the door close behind him with as much force as he had opened it.

He moved back toward the main hotel, knowing he would have seen them had the gone past the lounge toward the other conference rooms and the courtyard beyond. "Dammit Sara! Where the hell are you?" He purposely avoided the thought that they still didn't have the original crime scene; they still didn't know where Clarence Simmons had died. Dammit! She wouldn't leave the hotel, and Summers couldn't have subdued her in a crowd. But the scene could be somewhere here, in the Luxor. And Sara's voice haunted him "Easy enough to throw his arm around your shoulder and drag him in, as if you're helping a drunken friend home." Was that how Summers got Sara out? A quick blow to the head to slow her down, then dragging her out, explaining along the way that she just can't hold her liquor?

"Grissom? Nick said you needed me?"

He whirled to face Vega, who stood watching him with an odd expression on his face. Grissom paused, and took a deep breath, forcing his voice to display only mild concern, tinged with annoyance. "Sara's gone." He gestured to the lounge where he had gone to speak with Nick. "She was here with Summers when I went in there to take Nick's call. When I came back, they were gone."

Vega glanced down the hallway, "Did you try calling her?" He glanced at the phone on Grissom's waist.

Grissom just stared for a moment, then turned and headed back to the lounge area. He didn't turn back to look at Vega as he pulled out his phone and found a spot with good reception. "Phone doesn't work back in that hall, "he explained as he hit the speed dial. As the call connected he jammed the phone to his ear, pacing circles in the carpeting, studiously avoiding Vega's eye as he waited for Sara to pick up.

"Sidle…"

"Sara! Where the hell are you?"

She didn't answer for a moment; when she did, her own voice was carefully controlled. "Vendor's area. Mr. Summers marched off here when you took your call. Wants to check his credit-card reader."

His jaw clenched as he answered her. "I told you I'd be right back. You didn't wait for me."

"Grissom….It took us two hours to find him…"

"Never mind! Wait there. Vega and I are on the way. I mean it Sara!"

He could hear her sigh on the other end of the phone. "Fine. We'll be here." She disconnected before he could move the phone from his ear.

Vega jogged to keep up with Grissom as the crime lab supervisor strode into the vendor's room. Despite the difficulty he and Sara had in navigating the expansive space earlier in the day, he made his way through the maze straight to Summers' booth. Much like the palmist's stall had been, Jacob Summers small area was surrounded on four sides by silk draperies. Grissom yanked open the curtains, revealing Sara kneeling on the floor, lightly dusting printing powder over a small oak credenza. Grissom let out a long breath, his jaw working furiously, his eyes not leaving the younger CSI.

It was Vega who finally spoke, "Got a warrant, Sara?"

Summers sat in one of the two high-back chairs, His eyes moving to where the makeshift door had been flung open. "She doesn't need one. I am cooperating fully with this investigation Mr. Grissom, and…?"

"Vega." The policeman reached a hand out to Summers, "Detective Vega."

Sara stood then, handing a large evidence bag to Grissom, "Summers' credit card reader. We'll need to get it back to the lab to process. I've got a partial from the table the reader was on." She paused, glancing up at her boss, "A sample from the curtains and chairs. Anything else?"

"Ah." Grissom's voice felt tight, even to him. "No, Sara. Let's get this all back to the lab. Vega?"

"Right. Mr. Summers? Would you mind coming back, answer a few more questions for us?"

*~*

Jacob Summers waited in the large interrogation room while Grissom and Sara processed the evidence found in his stall. He had been seemingly forthcoming during his interrogation, though Grissom had never warmed to him. He glanced over the lens of the comparison microscope at Sara as she printed the credit card reader, his eyes scanning her profile as she bent over the small machine. The psychic had continued to try to flatter Sara throughout the interrogation, commenting several times on her 'aura' and how it intrigued him. Though she remained cool and focused, it bothered Grissom. He told himself it was because their main suspect was trying to deflect their suspicions through compliments, however paranormal in origin.

"What was all that about, back there?" She surprised him by speaking without even looking up from her work. He hadn't realized she was aware of his scrutiny.

"Excuse me?"

"Sara," she matched his intonation on the phone perfectly, "Where the hell are you?" Her eyes lifted to meet his then, if only briefly. "What was that all about, Grissom?"

"You weren't where I left you."

"So?" She shrugged as she lifted a print, closing the tape before she looked back at him again. "I was just a call away."

"Nick," he paused, clearing his throat, "Nick indicated Summers was a strong suspect. You were just…"

"You were worried?" Her eyes jumped to his again, widened slightly as she took in the information. "About me?"

For a moment, Grissom could only stare at her, shocked that she seemed so surprised. "Yes!" He glanced back at the microscope, taking a deep breath. When he spoke again, his tone was completely normal. "The fibers from Summers' stall don't match those found in the victim. What do you have?"

Sara blinked, letting a smile flicker over her face for a second. Then she glanced down, lifting the tape-print. "Good thumb print on the machine. We can have Jaqui run it against Summers. And it was used at 5:30 PM yesterday. We can check his alibi for that time."

Grissom nodded, "I'll ask Vega to check on it as soon as he's back from searching Summers' house."

"He's back." Both Grissom and Sara jumped at the sound of Nick's voice as the man stepped into the evidence room. "We got nothing."

Sara nodded as Grissom let out a small sigh. "All right. We'll have Vega start checking Summers' alibi. In the meantime, Nick, I think it's time you talked to your witness again."

*~*

"Miss Baxter…"

"Maggie."

Nick Stokes smiled at the red haired woman seated across from him in the smaller of the interrogation rooms. "Can you tell me more about Mr. Summers, and why he might want to hurt Clarence?"

"Kill him. He wanted to kill him. Clarence," she smiled, "He was writing a book, debunking psychic phenomenon. He worked for Mr. Summers. He was going to expose him as a charlatan."

"I see. And Mr. Summers didn't want this book written?"

"No!" Maggie crossed her legs, wringing her large hands in her lap, "He would have lost a great deal of money, you see. He makes a fortune from…." She paused, flashing Nick a smile, "Well, telling fortunes. Clarence was going to put a stop to it, he was. And Jacob Summers…he couldn't stand the idea of loosing his income."

Nick nodded, watching the young woman. Greed was one of the biggest motives for murder, right behind betrayal and jealousy, in his experience. A man about to loose everything was a man desperate enough to kill. And when the person about to take everything was someone he had known, trusted to work for him. Strangulation was a personal crime, and betrayal was ultimately personal.

"Maggie? Had Clarence written any other books?"

"Oh no, this was his first. We'd been going to places like this for a year though. Research, she said." She smiled again, "He did the research. I just went to be with him."

"I see. We appreciate the help you've given us Maggie. We'll need you to stay here for a while; we may have to have your help in a line up. Can you do that?"

"Of course, anything to help my Clarence."

*~*

"That doesn't make sense." Sara stood in the observation room, glancing at Grissom over her shoulder as he talked in hushed tones to Nick. The Texan had come in from the hallway door, Maggie Baxter remained seated in the small room. Sara's eyes moved from the men, to the woman seated at the metal table, her crossed legs bouncing nervously against the chair.

Nick looked her way, "Why not Sara?" Grissom, too, turned to watch her, his face expressionless. He nodded for her to answer Nick's question.

"First. We can find no evidence that Clarence Simons knew Jacob Summers." She was about to go on when Nick cut her off.

"Christanson saw him leave his seminar abruptly when Summers came in."

"No." Sara shook her head slowly, "Christanson saw him leave when someone wearing a presenter's ribbon came in. We don't know that it was Summers. Or even that the person entering was a trigger to Simons' leaving." She glanced at Grissom who was watching her intently, and Nick, who was frowning.

"Come on Sar…"

"And," she continued, "You and Vega searched Summers' home yourself, you found nothing. I didn't find anything at his booth at the convention."

"Yes, but he might have evidence hidden somewhere else. Suspects so eager to help often believe they're throwing you off the trail, think their guilt is too well hidden."

Sara nodded, once again meeting Grissom's eyes. "But I just don't buy that he was trying to debunk psychic phenomena. It doesn't mesh with what Grissom and I found out from the other vendors."

"Which was?"

It was Grissom who answered this time, "That he was a believer. He was purchasing items of protection. He was nervous about something, they all agreed to that. If he was really writing a book trying to discredit the occult, simply buying a few items just to show they didn't work certainly wouldn't be statistically valid."

"Besides," Sara added, with a quick smile to Grissom, "For every book you can show me on the occult, I can show you another that tried to expose it. I just don't see one more book as obvious motive."

Nick sighed, "I'll check with Vega, see how he's coming with checking out Summers' alibi."

Grissom nodded and moved to stand beside Sara, whose eyes had returned to Maggie Baxter in the interrogation room. She didn't turn to look at him as she spoke. "And here I got the impression you don't like Summers, much."

"I don't." His shoulder lifted in a half-shrug, "But we don't crunch evidence to fit a theory. Even if we don't like the suspect. Besides," he turned to look at her profile again, "He did say something that made sense."

"Which was?"

Grissom's mouth twitched in a lopsided grin, "I have never seen an aura like yours."