Disclaimer: see chapter one.
Chapter 16
Passing the layout room, Grissom did a double take and stopped when this confirmed that his initial observation was correct. Frowning, with both confusion and concern, he stepped into the doorway.
"Cath?" he said softly.
She was sitting at the table, one elbow leaning on it, head resting on her hand, with folders, photographs and reports spread out in front of her.
When she didn't respond to his enquiry he stepped further into the room and gently laid his hand on her shoulder. When she almost jumped off her stool, he also jumped backwards.
"Gil! You scared the life out of –"
"What are you doing?" he asked seriously.
"I'm reviewing the evidence in the Weston case," she said, defensively, her tone the result of the anger she could detect in his voice.
"Again?" He looked at her sternly, and that said everything else he wanted to say.
That look retold what he had said to her countless times in the last week. Since the premiere, and the discovery of Ryanne's body, Catherine had become obsessed with the case. The evidence had been reviewed several times by different members of the team and none of them had come up with anything new. But Catherine wouldn't have it that there wasn't a clue, and, forgoing sleep and food, she was spending every spare minute trailing over all the evidence. Grissom had thought he had finally got through to her early this particular evening, when she had missed half of the briefing at the start of shift, simply because she was too tired to pay attention. He had convinced her to go home and rest. At least, he thought he had. Finding her in here proved that wrong.
"We must be missing something!" she exclaimed turning back to the pictures.
"Well if four other CSIs didn't find it when they were wide awake, you're sure as hell not gonna find it while your asleep!"
"I wasn't asleep! I was thinking!"
"You were asleep Cath! You nearly fell off the chair when I simply touched your shoulder... You haven't slept in nearly a week! And when was the last time you ate?... You know better than this. These are conversations I have to have with Sara. She gets emotionally involved, and obsessive. But she hasn't been a CSI as long as you. You know that you are no use in this state!... Go home, sleep, eat, come back at the start of next shift and if you're lucky, I'll let you carry on working the case."
"You'll let me carry on? This is my case!" she yelled, jumping to her feet.
"Catherine! I do not want to argue with you. But I've tried softly-softly and it isn't getting through! If you don't rest and come back with a fresh mind and set of eyes, I will have no choice but to remove you from the case and prevent your access to the evidence."
"You'd do that?"
"It's for your own good. And the good of the case. If you're tired you get sloppy, if you're sloppy the evidence won't stand up in court. And when we catch this guy, he'd probably walk free," he said, more calmly.
"You're exaggerating!"
"You know I'm not... Please, Cath," he stepped towards her and gently cupped the side of her face, but she pulled away.
"Cyanide doesn't just turn up in bottled water!"
"I know."
"We should have found it. It had to have been in the house since the first day we were called out. We should have found it!" Her voice was shaking as she spoke.
"We had no reason to look for it. You know that."
"But we should have found it!" she glared at him.
"You know that's not true..." He stepped towards her once more, this time she let him take her hand. "Pushing me away and pushing Marc away, and isolating yourself from the rest of the team is not going to help."
Knowing he was right, she lowered her eyes to the floor, unable to meet his gaze, but he put his hand under her chin as he continued to speak, and slowly returned her saddened beautiful blue eyes to his. "We promised we would talk to each other in future, and not hide our feelings... I know Friday was hard for you, I want to be there for you. Talk to me."
The defensive wall she had worn for the last week slowly began to crumble as she looked into his eyes. She had avoided them since that night, knowing that she would break the minute she saw them, and she didn't want to be that weak. She needed to feel his arms around her, she loved him so much, and it frightened her. She didn't want to be that dependent on somebody else. Images of Marc flashed before her eyes every time she closed them, and she knew she never wanted to feel that level of pain, if she ever lost that constant. But every time she looked at Grissom she knew it was too late. He had got that close to her, and she couldn't fight it anymore.
As her lips began to tremble and the tears built up in her eyes, Grissom wrapped his arms around her, and held her to him as she cried.
"He loved her, Gil... You could tell... And he was ... he was so upset... It broke my heart to watch him, to see him crying, to see him wanting to hold her. .. But I couldn't let him... I couldn't let him near her... I had to stop him from holding the woman he loved one last time! And all because we didn't do our job properly!" she sobbed into his chest, burying her head in the security of his presence.
He stroked her hair tenderly, and held her tightly, trying to comfort her as best he could.
"Honey, you know we did everything possible to prevent this from happening. We weren't to know that it was already set up inside the house... You need to go home and sleep. I'll – "
He was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. Catherine stepped away from him so he could answer it.
"It'll go to voicemail," he said, reaching out to draw her back to him.
She smiled appreciatively, but said: "You should answer it. It could be important... And like you say, I should go home."
"But – "
"I'll wait til you're finished on the phone," she smiled, weakly.
"I'll just be a minute," he said, apologetically, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his phone. "Grissom."
While Grissom talked on the phone, Catherine wiped her eyes and tried to compose herself well enough to be seen in the corridors of the lab on her way out.
The conversation was short and Grissom hardly said anything so it was impossible for her to decipher what the phone call was about. When he had ended the call, he turned to face her.
"There's been another email. They're working on a trace now."
Catherine's eyes lit up with hope, and he knew she was about to protest the order for her to go home so he continued quickly.
"If you promise you'll go to my office now and sleep, I promise I'll wake you when they've traced the email and we're ready to go," he offered.
Catherine's smile was a little more hopeful this time, as she said, "Deal." Then she kissed him softly, once, on his lips and headed for his office.
*****
It was well into the following day shift when the trace on the email finally came through. Catherine stuck to her side of the bargain, and had slept for several hours in Grissom's office. Either that or she had pretended to be sleeping each time he had called in to check on her. Therefore he kept to his side and now they were en route to an apartment block, apartment nine of which apparently housed the computer from which the email was sent. Brass was waiting in the private car park when they arrived. He was talking to a tall, dark haired gentleman as their car pulled up, but upon noticing them he excused himself and met them as they exited the car.
"Apartment is let to a Miss Anne Morris, who doesn't appear to be home. Mr John Hathorn, here, is going to let us in. He's looking after the building while the landlord is visiting family in Africa. We were just waiting for you guys," Brass explained.
"Has he any idea when Miss Morris will be back?" Catherine asked.
"He thinks she must be out of town. He hasn't seen her at all while he's been here."
"And how long is that?" she continued.
"Since Monday. The landlord, Mr Hooper," Brass said, checking his notes for the name, "got a call saying his mother had been taken ill. He phoned John on Sunday evening and asked him if he'd mind keeping an eye on things... A couple of the tenants are rather unruly, apparently, and he doesn't like to leave the building unsupervised... Shall we?"
Grissom and Catherine both nodded, and the three of them joined a police officer and John Hathorn, and followed the latter to apartment number nine, which he dutifully unlocked for them.
"I'll be out here if you need me," he said pleasantly, though his air of nervousness was still evident. Obviously he was worried what Miss Morris, and Mr Hooper were going to say about him letting them in. As far as he was concerned, he was doing what was right, but that didn't stop him worrying.
"Thank you," Brass said as he and the officer entered to ensure the apartment was clear.
"We appreciate your co-operation," Catherine smiled. "And I'm sure Mr Hooper would have done the same thing."
This seemed to ease the worry lines on the man's face a little, but he still wasn't completely convinced.
The police declared that it was clear, and the CSIs went to work on the apartment. The first task being initial observations. Although, on entering they found there was very little to observe. The door opened onto a spacious open plan lounge, kitchen, dining area, with two doors along the left wall. Presumably a bathroom and a bedroom, but that would be confirmed later. But the room was devoid of all furnishings but for a computer and desk against the right wall.
"The rest of the apartment is like this too," Brass stated seeing the surprise on the two investigators' faces. "That's the only thing in here."
Grissom and Catherine exchanged looks then Grissom said:
"Let's hope it's the one we're looking for."
*****
Several hours later, they emerged from the apartment, having photographed all the equipment and how it was connected together in order to re-connect it back at the lab.
Brass was outside explaining what was happening to John, and trying to gather as much information from him as possible.
"Have you ever seen Miss Morris?" he was asking him. "Could you give us a description?"
Hathorn shook his head. "I've never seen her. She only moved in about a month ago. This is the first time I've looked after the building since then."
"Okay. Thank you. We're gonna need to get in touch with Mr Hooper. Do you have a contact number for him?"
*****
"A month," Catherine said, as she and Grissom walked towards the break room for a much needed cup of coffee, "Just before the letters started to arrive."
Grissom nodded his agreement.
When he didn't speak, she continued, "It looks like we may have a lead."
Grissom nodded again. "Good things come to those who wait."
TBC...
Chapter 16
Passing the layout room, Grissom did a double take and stopped when this confirmed that his initial observation was correct. Frowning, with both confusion and concern, he stepped into the doorway.
"Cath?" he said softly.
She was sitting at the table, one elbow leaning on it, head resting on her hand, with folders, photographs and reports spread out in front of her.
When she didn't respond to his enquiry he stepped further into the room and gently laid his hand on her shoulder. When she almost jumped off her stool, he also jumped backwards.
"Gil! You scared the life out of –"
"What are you doing?" he asked seriously.
"I'm reviewing the evidence in the Weston case," she said, defensively, her tone the result of the anger she could detect in his voice.
"Again?" He looked at her sternly, and that said everything else he wanted to say.
That look retold what he had said to her countless times in the last week. Since the premiere, and the discovery of Ryanne's body, Catherine had become obsessed with the case. The evidence had been reviewed several times by different members of the team and none of them had come up with anything new. But Catherine wouldn't have it that there wasn't a clue, and, forgoing sleep and food, she was spending every spare minute trailing over all the evidence. Grissom had thought he had finally got through to her early this particular evening, when she had missed half of the briefing at the start of shift, simply because she was too tired to pay attention. He had convinced her to go home and rest. At least, he thought he had. Finding her in here proved that wrong.
"We must be missing something!" she exclaimed turning back to the pictures.
"Well if four other CSIs didn't find it when they were wide awake, you're sure as hell not gonna find it while your asleep!"
"I wasn't asleep! I was thinking!"
"You were asleep Cath! You nearly fell off the chair when I simply touched your shoulder... You haven't slept in nearly a week! And when was the last time you ate?... You know better than this. These are conversations I have to have with Sara. She gets emotionally involved, and obsessive. But she hasn't been a CSI as long as you. You know that you are no use in this state!... Go home, sleep, eat, come back at the start of next shift and if you're lucky, I'll let you carry on working the case."
"You'll let me carry on? This is my case!" she yelled, jumping to her feet.
"Catherine! I do not want to argue with you. But I've tried softly-softly and it isn't getting through! If you don't rest and come back with a fresh mind and set of eyes, I will have no choice but to remove you from the case and prevent your access to the evidence."
"You'd do that?"
"It's for your own good. And the good of the case. If you're tired you get sloppy, if you're sloppy the evidence won't stand up in court. And when we catch this guy, he'd probably walk free," he said, more calmly.
"You're exaggerating!"
"You know I'm not... Please, Cath," he stepped towards her and gently cupped the side of her face, but she pulled away.
"Cyanide doesn't just turn up in bottled water!"
"I know."
"We should have found it. It had to have been in the house since the first day we were called out. We should have found it!" Her voice was shaking as she spoke.
"We had no reason to look for it. You know that."
"But we should have found it!" she glared at him.
"You know that's not true..." He stepped towards her once more, this time she let him take her hand. "Pushing me away and pushing Marc away, and isolating yourself from the rest of the team is not going to help."
Knowing he was right, she lowered her eyes to the floor, unable to meet his gaze, but he put his hand under her chin as he continued to speak, and slowly returned her saddened beautiful blue eyes to his. "We promised we would talk to each other in future, and not hide our feelings... I know Friday was hard for you, I want to be there for you. Talk to me."
The defensive wall she had worn for the last week slowly began to crumble as she looked into his eyes. She had avoided them since that night, knowing that she would break the minute she saw them, and she didn't want to be that weak. She needed to feel his arms around her, she loved him so much, and it frightened her. She didn't want to be that dependent on somebody else. Images of Marc flashed before her eyes every time she closed them, and she knew she never wanted to feel that level of pain, if she ever lost that constant. But every time she looked at Grissom she knew it was too late. He had got that close to her, and she couldn't fight it anymore.
As her lips began to tremble and the tears built up in her eyes, Grissom wrapped his arms around her, and held her to him as she cried.
"He loved her, Gil... You could tell... And he was ... he was so upset... It broke my heart to watch him, to see him crying, to see him wanting to hold her. .. But I couldn't let him... I couldn't let him near her... I had to stop him from holding the woman he loved one last time! And all because we didn't do our job properly!" she sobbed into his chest, burying her head in the security of his presence.
He stroked her hair tenderly, and held her tightly, trying to comfort her as best he could.
"Honey, you know we did everything possible to prevent this from happening. We weren't to know that it was already set up inside the house... You need to go home and sleep. I'll – "
He was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. Catherine stepped away from him so he could answer it.
"It'll go to voicemail," he said, reaching out to draw her back to him.
She smiled appreciatively, but said: "You should answer it. It could be important... And like you say, I should go home."
"But – "
"I'll wait til you're finished on the phone," she smiled, weakly.
"I'll just be a minute," he said, apologetically, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his phone. "Grissom."
While Grissom talked on the phone, Catherine wiped her eyes and tried to compose herself well enough to be seen in the corridors of the lab on her way out.
The conversation was short and Grissom hardly said anything so it was impossible for her to decipher what the phone call was about. When he had ended the call, he turned to face her.
"There's been another email. They're working on a trace now."
Catherine's eyes lit up with hope, and he knew she was about to protest the order for her to go home so he continued quickly.
"If you promise you'll go to my office now and sleep, I promise I'll wake you when they've traced the email and we're ready to go," he offered.
Catherine's smile was a little more hopeful this time, as she said, "Deal." Then she kissed him softly, once, on his lips and headed for his office.
*****
It was well into the following day shift when the trace on the email finally came through. Catherine stuck to her side of the bargain, and had slept for several hours in Grissom's office. Either that or she had pretended to be sleeping each time he had called in to check on her. Therefore he kept to his side and now they were en route to an apartment block, apartment nine of which apparently housed the computer from which the email was sent. Brass was waiting in the private car park when they arrived. He was talking to a tall, dark haired gentleman as their car pulled up, but upon noticing them he excused himself and met them as they exited the car.
"Apartment is let to a Miss Anne Morris, who doesn't appear to be home. Mr John Hathorn, here, is going to let us in. He's looking after the building while the landlord is visiting family in Africa. We were just waiting for you guys," Brass explained.
"Has he any idea when Miss Morris will be back?" Catherine asked.
"He thinks she must be out of town. He hasn't seen her at all while he's been here."
"And how long is that?" she continued.
"Since Monday. The landlord, Mr Hooper," Brass said, checking his notes for the name, "got a call saying his mother had been taken ill. He phoned John on Sunday evening and asked him if he'd mind keeping an eye on things... A couple of the tenants are rather unruly, apparently, and he doesn't like to leave the building unsupervised... Shall we?"
Grissom and Catherine both nodded, and the three of them joined a police officer and John Hathorn, and followed the latter to apartment number nine, which he dutifully unlocked for them.
"I'll be out here if you need me," he said pleasantly, though his air of nervousness was still evident. Obviously he was worried what Miss Morris, and Mr Hooper were going to say about him letting them in. As far as he was concerned, he was doing what was right, but that didn't stop him worrying.
"Thank you," Brass said as he and the officer entered to ensure the apartment was clear.
"We appreciate your co-operation," Catherine smiled. "And I'm sure Mr Hooper would have done the same thing."
This seemed to ease the worry lines on the man's face a little, but he still wasn't completely convinced.
The police declared that it was clear, and the CSIs went to work on the apartment. The first task being initial observations. Although, on entering they found there was very little to observe. The door opened onto a spacious open plan lounge, kitchen, dining area, with two doors along the left wall. Presumably a bathroom and a bedroom, but that would be confirmed later. But the room was devoid of all furnishings but for a computer and desk against the right wall.
"The rest of the apartment is like this too," Brass stated seeing the surprise on the two investigators' faces. "That's the only thing in here."
Grissom and Catherine exchanged looks then Grissom said:
"Let's hope it's the one we're looking for."
*****
Several hours later, they emerged from the apartment, having photographed all the equipment and how it was connected together in order to re-connect it back at the lab.
Brass was outside explaining what was happening to John, and trying to gather as much information from him as possible.
"Have you ever seen Miss Morris?" he was asking him. "Could you give us a description?"
Hathorn shook his head. "I've never seen her. She only moved in about a month ago. This is the first time I've looked after the building since then."
"Okay. Thank you. We're gonna need to get in touch with Mr Hooper. Do you have a contact number for him?"
*****
"A month," Catherine said, as she and Grissom walked towards the break room for a much needed cup of coffee, "Just before the letters started to arrive."
Grissom nodded his agreement.
When he didn't speak, she continued, "It looks like we may have a lead."
Grissom nodded again. "Good things come to those who wait."
TBC...