CHAPTER 7
See Part 1 for disclaimers
Previous parts may be found at fanfiction.net; grissomandsara.com/fanfic and
my website: www.geocities.com/missyliannem/csi.html
A/N: This story was written very early Season 3. So any episodes after the
first couple are irrelevant to how this story progresses.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Ever been here before?" Brass asked Nick as they moved through the milling
foot traffic on The Strip in the midday heat.
"My paycheck's not quite in the market for Vincenetti's. You've been here?"
Nick swivelled his head towards the older man, confused by Brass' question.
"My shoes don't speak imported handmade Italian leather? I'll have to get a
raise." Brass grinned. He looked Nick up and down. "Only on business.
Mattie'll like you."
"What?" Nick shook his head, wondering for a moment if they were on the
same wavelength.
He followed Brass through the gilt-edged heavy, glass door. The interior was
cool, a sharp contrast to the humid heat of Vegas. Highly polished wooden
floors gleamed under intense spotlights. The smooth surface was reflected
in the long mirrors placed at regular intervals around the room. Modern glass
stands displayed impeccably crafted shoes of the finest quality imported
leather.
"Detective Brass. To what do I owe this honour?" A young, immaculately
dressed man glided effortlessly across the floor to greet them. His demeanour
was friendly, yet his pale eyes conveyed a wariness of the police detective.
"Obviously you haven't taken my advice to visit Maxwell's."
Brass shook his head and speared Mattie with a broad grin. "No. I didn't want
to get charged with negligent homicide when the criminal content of the
community caught sight of my new image."
"And who is this young man?" Mattie slowly savoured each word, allowing
each to drop in a pool of desire. He let his eyes drift seductively over Nick's
form.
Brass watched with a smirk on his face as Nick shifted uncomfortably under
the intense scrutiny. He allowed himself a small amount of amusement at how
Nick was handling the situation. It was Nick's harsh expression in his direction
that prompted him to stop Mattie's inspection.
"Nick Stokes. He's with criminalistics. You remember Gil Grissom... Nick's
one of his." Brass' tone gave weight to the simple words.
"Oh," Mattie mouthed, delicately. He flicked his head, his dark hair not yielding
to the movement, the heavy hairspray holding it firmly in place. "Mr. Grissom.
Such a nice man. Quiet, yet dignified. How is he?"
Nick was about to answer when he felt Brass lightly touch his arm, indicating
silently with his eyes to just follow his lead.
"Could be better." Brass moved towards the cash register, forcing Mattie to
follow him. Nick watched at a distance. "You may be able to help, Mattie."
"Me? A criminal investigation?" Mattie managed to project the right amount
of astonishment, his voice rising dramatically. "Hardly. I'm a simple shoe
salesman."
"You sell yourself short, Mattie. You have some very influential clientele."
Brass lowered his voice as he spoke conspiratorially to the slimly built man.
"We want to find one in particular."
"Tut, tut, Detective Brass," Mattie cooed. "You know that my records are
protected by law. Client privacy and all that."
"Not with a Warrant." Nick held up the blue Court Order for Mattie's
inspection.
"Oh, so he can talk." Mattie commented, walking over to take the Warrant. He
allowed his fingers to slide seductively over Nick's as his almost translucent
blue eyes looked deeply into chocolate brown ones. Nick pulled back quickly,
breaking both the physical and visual contact."
"Show us your records," Brass said decisively.
"All right. If you insist." Mattie swept past Brass to the computer on the
polished timber U shaped counter.
"No, don't ...." Nick started to say as he moved around to physically stop
Mattie, but he was too late. Mattie had already executed a few sharp taps on
the keyboard. Nick's hands stopped the movement. Mattie looked at Nick,
his gaze cold.
Nick scanned the screen. "Brass, we're going to need Archie out here. I don't
know if he's deleted anything and I'm not willing to change anything that could
jeopardize Sara and Lindsey."
"Mattie, I want your full records." Brass loomed over the man, despite the two
of them being the same height. "Do I need to remind you that I can always
provide you with an all expenses paid one-way trip to an exclusive hotel for the
night? The decor may not be your cup of tea, Mattie, but the friends that you'd
meet.... well, they certainly like pretty boys like you."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Light softly illuminated the office from the small lamp on the desk. Catherine
sat hunched over the well worn surface. She gripped the ballpoint pen tightly
in her fist as she raked her left hand through her limp hair. Taping the pen on
the desk, Catherine narrowed her eyes as she scanned the list she had made.
Brass had suggested that she should try to remember any of Eddie's contacts.
Anyone or any place which might provide them with a clue as to where he
was. The sooner they could find him, the better... for both Lindsey and Sara.
She chewed on her lip, wishing she had paid more attention to his rambles
about his contracts and latest women or friends.
"How's it going, Cath?"
Catherine let out a small scream and jumped at the voice close to her ear.
"Warrick! Don't scare a woman to death."
"Sorry. I thought you'd heard me walk in and make my coffee," he said gently
as he dropped his lanky frame into the seat beside her.
"Did you?" Catherine could smell the freshly brewed coffee now that he
mentioned it. "Sorry, I wasn't concentrating on what was going on around
me."
"How are you doing, Cath?"
"Truthfully. If Eddie walked in that door right now, I'd shoot him regardless of
the consequences. But after I'd found out who he owed the money to and
what he'd done with Sara. This list is out-dated. Since we split, I've ignored
what he was doing. I didn't want it to impact on Lindsey and I certainly didn't
need the added reminder of knowing what he'd done while we were married."
"Hey, Cath. It's not your fault."
"Are you sure? Sara wouldn't be in this mess if I hadn't pushed her into
coming home with me."
"Sara's independent. If she truly didn't want to go, she would have avoided it."
"But that's not how people are going to see it. It's not how Sara's going to see
it when she gets out of this. If she gets out of it...."
"Eddie won't hurt her, Cath," Warrick interrupted.
"I don't know about that Warrick. He was pissed off with her in the coffee
room. Eddie can be dangerous when he's crossed. Sara did the unspeakable
in his eyes, she made him unworthy as a man by bringing him down to his
knees. He may have only slapped me around a bit, but do that to someone
who's already injured..." Catherine tapered off, not willing to voice the
possibilities that were running through her mind.
Warrick looked up at Catherine, surprised by her admission of the abuse by
Eddie. He reached over and touched her arm. Her hand sought his as tears
began to fall, her shoulders heaving as silent sobs shook her small body.
Warrick put his arms around her shoulders and provided quiet solace. No
words would be of any comfort. The stakes were too high and the odds of
success were stacked against them.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Greg pulled the sheet of paper from the machine, a smile of satisfaction slowly
filling his face. "Maybe, just maybe," he muttered to himself. He pushed
himself off his seat. It slowly rolled backwards as he moved quickly out the
door.
"Hodges, you seen Grissom?" Greg had worked out Hodges' method for
trying to climb the lab ladder was to keep in Grissom's good books. If Greg
was in Grissom's shoes, he'd be concerned that Hodges seemed to be able
to keep tabs on his whereabouts. Greg didn't like the man. His demeanour
was like a wet blanket over the office and Greg tried to avoid him wherever
possible. But he would use Hodges for information when it suited him.
"He's in his office."
Greg moved quickly through the CSI lab, studiously keeping his eyes on the
paper in front of him. He ignored all the people he passed, their greetings
unheard.
"Grissom. I've got it." He was puffed by the time he got to the office. "Or at
least I think I've got it. Well, that's if CODIS' information is...."
"Greg, stop. What have you got?" Grissom silenced the young man with the
heavily gelled hair.
"A match. The DNA from the cigarette butt matches to one Tony Petersen."
Greg handed over the print-out from CODIS.
Grissom scanned the document before his eyes settled on the photograph in
the corner. The black and white photo clearly displayed the man's heavy
physique. Grissom shuddered to think that Sara had defended herself
against him. It was no wonder that her blood was found on the scene. While
having a lead to one of their perpetrators, it worried him about the injuries
Sara had sustained at his hands.
"Great work, Greg," Grissom praised as he picked up the phone. It was the
first good news they'd had in the investigation.
"What now?" Greg asked.
Grissom held up his hand to silence him. Greg slowly sank into the chair and
sat quietly listening to the one-sided conversation. "Brass. I need to meet
you at The Golden Egg." Grissom paused for a moment. "Yeah, the DNA on
the cigarette butt matches Tony Petersen. We also need a warrant for his
shoes."
"Can I come with you?" Greg asked as Grissom broke the connection.
"No. You're not used to being out in the field and you're too close to this
case."
"What about you?"
Grissom eyed Greg thoughtfully.
"You're close to Sara," Greg argued, ignoring the flash of pain that passed
over Grissom's face before being quashed. "You knew her before she came
here. Isn't it hard for you?"
Grissom ran a finger over his mouth before replying. His answer was honest
and direct. "Yes. Yes, it is. But I'm not going to leave Sara's fate in someone
else's hands."
"I don't want to either."
"Greg, I have worked crime scenes all my adult life and dealt with criminals.
You are only beginning to get out into the field. I don't want to jeopardize a
chance to find Sara with an inappropriate move on your part. Investigators
with more experience than you have made that mistake. Your presence at this
stage could affect the case detrimentally."
Greg turned away from the older man to avoid him having to see the pain in
his eyes. His shoulders slumped and he moved slowly towards the door.
"Greg." Grissom called out. He waited until the young man stopped. Greg
half-turned to face him. "You've done excellent work for your first time out in
the field. Remember though, first you must learn to crawl before you can
walk."
"Thanks, Grissom." Greg gave him a half-hearted smile of thanks before
returning to the security of his lab. He thought of the last time Sara had been
here. He has teased her over the grapevine rumour of a boyfriend. Sara had
expertly avoided his ploys to reveal information about her personal life other
than to remind him that her private life was just that - private. He had also
heard from Warrick that she denied that Hank was anything other than a
friend. One thing he did know about Sara was that she told the truth. Greg
hoped that they would find Sara in time. It was only with time that he could tell
her that he appreciated having her as a friend.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
O'Reilly led a team police officers up the straight, concrete path to the white,
brick house. His pudgy knuckles rapped against the lemon-coloured door, its
aging paint flaking and begging for a new coat of colour. There was no
answer. He knocked again, this time calling out for Eddie Willows to answer
the door. Warrick and Toby Wright, a CSI from Ecklie's team that Grissom
had requested assist the team on the case, hung back behind the officers.
Warrick let his gaze wander over the smaller man by his side. He had worked
with Toby a couple of times when days had case overloads. During those
times he had found Toby easy to work with and efficient.
"Okay, Warrick. The key," O'Reilly instructed.
Warrick moved forward and slipped the key Catherine had given him into the
lock. He opened the door and allowed the police officers to go inside to clear
the scene.
"It's all clear," O'Reilly called out.
"Our turn now, Tobe," Warrick said, throwing a grim smile towards the younger
man.
Toby tightened his grip on the aluminium forensics case. He was nervous.
It wasn't due to uncertainty in his abilities; he could do his job and do it well.
It was caused by knowing that this was a case involving one of their own. Toby
had seen Sara many times during her long hauls on the job. It had amazed
him how she could continue to work relentlessly, sustained only by her
caffeine addiction. He was witnessing her team do the same in their
desperate search for her and Catherine's daughter.
"Where do you want to start?"
"We'll search each room together. Work opposite sides back towards the
middle." Warrick took a quick overview of the room. "Nick'll be here soon to
help. He was leaving the computer at Vincenetti's in Archie's hands before
heading over here."
"This Eddie wasn't a tidy guy," Toby commented, running his flashlight over
the corners of the room. CDs, papers and magazines filled every tabletop
and many places on the floor. Only a small walkway was left in which to
move around the room. It was dark; heavy curtains sealed off the brilliant
sunshine outdoors.
Warrick turned on the light. They moved through the house, gaining an
overall view of the secondary crime scene.
"We've got our work cut out for us," Warrick stated, turning off his flashlight
with a snap. "We're looking for anything that might link Eddie to the
kidnappers. Something that might give us a clue as to who Eddie owes the
money to. But don't forget that we're looking for Eddie as well, where he
might be holding Sara."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sara backed herself up against the door. She wrapped her bound hands
firmly around the handle. The flashlight in Eddie's hands bobbed up and down
with each step he took towards her, but the beam's focus never detoured from
her.
She tried to slow her ragged breathing by counting backwards. The heated
air whistled over her pursed lips. Her heart beat heavily in her chest. She
closed her eyes to break the incessant light in her eyes. But only for a
moment. She didn't trust the man coming up the stairs. He was only a couple
of feet away from where she had planted herself.
"You don't know what you've brought down on yourself."
"I think I know, Eddie," Sara told him. Her voice was relatively calm, despite
the ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach. "I've seen enough cases to
know what happens when you really piss someone off. And many more cases
where there was no reason whatsoever other than the person wanted to beat
down on someone else."
Sara watched his hands warily. She was sure that he would knock her
unconscious after her latest attack. An important factor in self-defense is to
be fully aware of your attacker and counteract the assault. Sara hoped that
she would be able to see where the attack was coming from. The flashlight
in her eyes only gave her a silhouette of Eddie.
It was the sudden movement of the flashlight that gave her warning of his
intent. Sara ducked. It missed her skull and connected with her shoulder.
She grimaced, but didn't allow it to distract her. Quickly calculating the
distance, she put all the power behind her leg and lashed out. Her leg
connected squarely with Eddie's midriff. The beam of light spun wildly around
the room as Eddie's arms flailed to find something for support. There was
nothing.
Sara witnessed the fall by the dance of the flashlight and the grunts made on
each connection with the stairs. The beam of light cut out suddenly. She
heard several more thumps before a sickening crunch. Adrenaline dipped
suddenly and Sara felt herself losing distance with reality. She slowly slid
down to the cold concrete stair, her back firmly pressed against the solid door.
Her head was still spinning and she let it fall forward onto her bent knees. In
the distance, she heard a car start and take off, spinning its tires with a
squeal. Reality began to set in and her shoulders shook as she gave in to the
fear that had held her in its grip for so long.
End Chapter 7/?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
See Part 1 for disclaimers
Previous parts may be found at fanfiction.net; grissomandsara.com/fanfic and
my website: www.geocities.com/missyliannem/csi.html
A/N: This story was written very early Season 3. So any episodes after the
first couple are irrelevant to how this story progresses.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Ever been here before?" Brass asked Nick as they moved through the milling
foot traffic on The Strip in the midday heat.
"My paycheck's not quite in the market for Vincenetti's. You've been here?"
Nick swivelled his head towards the older man, confused by Brass' question.
"My shoes don't speak imported handmade Italian leather? I'll have to get a
raise." Brass grinned. He looked Nick up and down. "Only on business.
Mattie'll like you."
"What?" Nick shook his head, wondering for a moment if they were on the
same wavelength.
He followed Brass through the gilt-edged heavy, glass door. The interior was
cool, a sharp contrast to the humid heat of Vegas. Highly polished wooden
floors gleamed under intense spotlights. The smooth surface was reflected
in the long mirrors placed at regular intervals around the room. Modern glass
stands displayed impeccably crafted shoes of the finest quality imported
leather.
"Detective Brass. To what do I owe this honour?" A young, immaculately
dressed man glided effortlessly across the floor to greet them. His demeanour
was friendly, yet his pale eyes conveyed a wariness of the police detective.
"Obviously you haven't taken my advice to visit Maxwell's."
Brass shook his head and speared Mattie with a broad grin. "No. I didn't want
to get charged with negligent homicide when the criminal content of the
community caught sight of my new image."
"And who is this young man?" Mattie slowly savoured each word, allowing
each to drop in a pool of desire. He let his eyes drift seductively over Nick's
form.
Brass watched with a smirk on his face as Nick shifted uncomfortably under
the intense scrutiny. He allowed himself a small amount of amusement at how
Nick was handling the situation. It was Nick's harsh expression in his direction
that prompted him to stop Mattie's inspection.
"Nick Stokes. He's with criminalistics. You remember Gil Grissom... Nick's
one of his." Brass' tone gave weight to the simple words.
"Oh," Mattie mouthed, delicately. He flicked his head, his dark hair not yielding
to the movement, the heavy hairspray holding it firmly in place. "Mr. Grissom.
Such a nice man. Quiet, yet dignified. How is he?"
Nick was about to answer when he felt Brass lightly touch his arm, indicating
silently with his eyes to just follow his lead.
"Could be better." Brass moved towards the cash register, forcing Mattie to
follow him. Nick watched at a distance. "You may be able to help, Mattie."
"Me? A criminal investigation?" Mattie managed to project the right amount
of astonishment, his voice rising dramatically. "Hardly. I'm a simple shoe
salesman."
"You sell yourself short, Mattie. You have some very influential clientele."
Brass lowered his voice as he spoke conspiratorially to the slimly built man.
"We want to find one in particular."
"Tut, tut, Detective Brass," Mattie cooed. "You know that my records are
protected by law. Client privacy and all that."
"Not with a Warrant." Nick held up the blue Court Order for Mattie's
inspection.
"Oh, so he can talk." Mattie commented, walking over to take the Warrant. He
allowed his fingers to slide seductively over Nick's as his almost translucent
blue eyes looked deeply into chocolate brown ones. Nick pulled back quickly,
breaking both the physical and visual contact."
"Show us your records," Brass said decisively.
"All right. If you insist." Mattie swept past Brass to the computer on the
polished timber U shaped counter.
"No, don't ...." Nick started to say as he moved around to physically stop
Mattie, but he was too late. Mattie had already executed a few sharp taps on
the keyboard. Nick's hands stopped the movement. Mattie looked at Nick,
his gaze cold.
Nick scanned the screen. "Brass, we're going to need Archie out here. I don't
know if he's deleted anything and I'm not willing to change anything that could
jeopardize Sara and Lindsey."
"Mattie, I want your full records." Brass loomed over the man, despite the two
of them being the same height. "Do I need to remind you that I can always
provide you with an all expenses paid one-way trip to an exclusive hotel for the
night? The decor may not be your cup of tea, Mattie, but the friends that you'd
meet.... well, they certainly like pretty boys like you."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Light softly illuminated the office from the small lamp on the desk. Catherine
sat hunched over the well worn surface. She gripped the ballpoint pen tightly
in her fist as she raked her left hand through her limp hair. Taping the pen on
the desk, Catherine narrowed her eyes as she scanned the list she had made.
Brass had suggested that she should try to remember any of Eddie's contacts.
Anyone or any place which might provide them with a clue as to where he
was. The sooner they could find him, the better... for both Lindsey and Sara.
She chewed on her lip, wishing she had paid more attention to his rambles
about his contracts and latest women or friends.
"How's it going, Cath?"
Catherine let out a small scream and jumped at the voice close to her ear.
"Warrick! Don't scare a woman to death."
"Sorry. I thought you'd heard me walk in and make my coffee," he said gently
as he dropped his lanky frame into the seat beside her.
"Did you?" Catherine could smell the freshly brewed coffee now that he
mentioned it. "Sorry, I wasn't concentrating on what was going on around
me."
"How are you doing, Cath?"
"Truthfully. If Eddie walked in that door right now, I'd shoot him regardless of
the consequences. But after I'd found out who he owed the money to and
what he'd done with Sara. This list is out-dated. Since we split, I've ignored
what he was doing. I didn't want it to impact on Lindsey and I certainly didn't
need the added reminder of knowing what he'd done while we were married."
"Hey, Cath. It's not your fault."
"Are you sure? Sara wouldn't be in this mess if I hadn't pushed her into
coming home with me."
"Sara's independent. If she truly didn't want to go, she would have avoided it."
"But that's not how people are going to see it. It's not how Sara's going to see
it when she gets out of this. If she gets out of it...."
"Eddie won't hurt her, Cath," Warrick interrupted.
"I don't know about that Warrick. He was pissed off with her in the coffee
room. Eddie can be dangerous when he's crossed. Sara did the unspeakable
in his eyes, she made him unworthy as a man by bringing him down to his
knees. He may have only slapped me around a bit, but do that to someone
who's already injured..." Catherine tapered off, not willing to voice the
possibilities that were running through her mind.
Warrick looked up at Catherine, surprised by her admission of the abuse by
Eddie. He reached over and touched her arm. Her hand sought his as tears
began to fall, her shoulders heaving as silent sobs shook her small body.
Warrick put his arms around her shoulders and provided quiet solace. No
words would be of any comfort. The stakes were too high and the odds of
success were stacked against them.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Greg pulled the sheet of paper from the machine, a smile of satisfaction slowly
filling his face. "Maybe, just maybe," he muttered to himself. He pushed
himself off his seat. It slowly rolled backwards as he moved quickly out the
door.
"Hodges, you seen Grissom?" Greg had worked out Hodges' method for
trying to climb the lab ladder was to keep in Grissom's good books. If Greg
was in Grissom's shoes, he'd be concerned that Hodges seemed to be able
to keep tabs on his whereabouts. Greg didn't like the man. His demeanour
was like a wet blanket over the office and Greg tried to avoid him wherever
possible. But he would use Hodges for information when it suited him.
"He's in his office."
Greg moved quickly through the CSI lab, studiously keeping his eyes on the
paper in front of him. He ignored all the people he passed, their greetings
unheard.
"Grissom. I've got it." He was puffed by the time he got to the office. "Or at
least I think I've got it. Well, that's if CODIS' information is...."
"Greg, stop. What have you got?" Grissom silenced the young man with the
heavily gelled hair.
"A match. The DNA from the cigarette butt matches to one Tony Petersen."
Greg handed over the print-out from CODIS.
Grissom scanned the document before his eyes settled on the photograph in
the corner. The black and white photo clearly displayed the man's heavy
physique. Grissom shuddered to think that Sara had defended herself
against him. It was no wonder that her blood was found on the scene. While
having a lead to one of their perpetrators, it worried him about the injuries
Sara had sustained at his hands.
"Great work, Greg," Grissom praised as he picked up the phone. It was the
first good news they'd had in the investigation.
"What now?" Greg asked.
Grissom held up his hand to silence him. Greg slowly sank into the chair and
sat quietly listening to the one-sided conversation. "Brass. I need to meet
you at The Golden Egg." Grissom paused for a moment. "Yeah, the DNA on
the cigarette butt matches Tony Petersen. We also need a warrant for his
shoes."
"Can I come with you?" Greg asked as Grissom broke the connection.
"No. You're not used to being out in the field and you're too close to this
case."
"What about you?"
Grissom eyed Greg thoughtfully.
"You're close to Sara," Greg argued, ignoring the flash of pain that passed
over Grissom's face before being quashed. "You knew her before she came
here. Isn't it hard for you?"
Grissom ran a finger over his mouth before replying. His answer was honest
and direct. "Yes. Yes, it is. But I'm not going to leave Sara's fate in someone
else's hands."
"I don't want to either."
"Greg, I have worked crime scenes all my adult life and dealt with criminals.
You are only beginning to get out into the field. I don't want to jeopardize a
chance to find Sara with an inappropriate move on your part. Investigators
with more experience than you have made that mistake. Your presence at this
stage could affect the case detrimentally."
Greg turned away from the older man to avoid him having to see the pain in
his eyes. His shoulders slumped and he moved slowly towards the door.
"Greg." Grissom called out. He waited until the young man stopped. Greg
half-turned to face him. "You've done excellent work for your first time out in
the field. Remember though, first you must learn to crawl before you can
walk."
"Thanks, Grissom." Greg gave him a half-hearted smile of thanks before
returning to the security of his lab. He thought of the last time Sara had been
here. He has teased her over the grapevine rumour of a boyfriend. Sara had
expertly avoided his ploys to reveal information about her personal life other
than to remind him that her private life was just that - private. He had also
heard from Warrick that she denied that Hank was anything other than a
friend. One thing he did know about Sara was that she told the truth. Greg
hoped that they would find Sara in time. It was only with time that he could tell
her that he appreciated having her as a friend.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
O'Reilly led a team police officers up the straight, concrete path to the white,
brick house. His pudgy knuckles rapped against the lemon-coloured door, its
aging paint flaking and begging for a new coat of colour. There was no
answer. He knocked again, this time calling out for Eddie Willows to answer
the door. Warrick and Toby Wright, a CSI from Ecklie's team that Grissom
had requested assist the team on the case, hung back behind the officers.
Warrick let his gaze wander over the smaller man by his side. He had worked
with Toby a couple of times when days had case overloads. During those
times he had found Toby easy to work with and efficient.
"Okay, Warrick. The key," O'Reilly instructed.
Warrick moved forward and slipped the key Catherine had given him into the
lock. He opened the door and allowed the police officers to go inside to clear
the scene.
"It's all clear," O'Reilly called out.
"Our turn now, Tobe," Warrick said, throwing a grim smile towards the younger
man.
Toby tightened his grip on the aluminium forensics case. He was nervous.
It wasn't due to uncertainty in his abilities; he could do his job and do it well.
It was caused by knowing that this was a case involving one of their own. Toby
had seen Sara many times during her long hauls on the job. It had amazed
him how she could continue to work relentlessly, sustained only by her
caffeine addiction. He was witnessing her team do the same in their
desperate search for her and Catherine's daughter.
"Where do you want to start?"
"We'll search each room together. Work opposite sides back towards the
middle." Warrick took a quick overview of the room. "Nick'll be here soon to
help. He was leaving the computer at Vincenetti's in Archie's hands before
heading over here."
"This Eddie wasn't a tidy guy," Toby commented, running his flashlight over
the corners of the room. CDs, papers and magazines filled every tabletop
and many places on the floor. Only a small walkway was left in which to
move around the room. It was dark; heavy curtains sealed off the brilliant
sunshine outdoors.
Warrick turned on the light. They moved through the house, gaining an
overall view of the secondary crime scene.
"We've got our work cut out for us," Warrick stated, turning off his flashlight
with a snap. "We're looking for anything that might link Eddie to the
kidnappers. Something that might give us a clue as to who Eddie owes the
money to. But don't forget that we're looking for Eddie as well, where he
might be holding Sara."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sara backed herself up against the door. She wrapped her bound hands
firmly around the handle. The flashlight in Eddie's hands bobbed up and down
with each step he took towards her, but the beam's focus never detoured from
her.
She tried to slow her ragged breathing by counting backwards. The heated
air whistled over her pursed lips. Her heart beat heavily in her chest. She
closed her eyes to break the incessant light in her eyes. But only for a
moment. She didn't trust the man coming up the stairs. He was only a couple
of feet away from where she had planted herself.
"You don't know what you've brought down on yourself."
"I think I know, Eddie," Sara told him. Her voice was relatively calm, despite
the ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach. "I've seen enough cases to
know what happens when you really piss someone off. And many more cases
where there was no reason whatsoever other than the person wanted to beat
down on someone else."
Sara watched his hands warily. She was sure that he would knock her
unconscious after her latest attack. An important factor in self-defense is to
be fully aware of your attacker and counteract the assault. Sara hoped that
she would be able to see where the attack was coming from. The flashlight
in her eyes only gave her a silhouette of Eddie.
It was the sudden movement of the flashlight that gave her warning of his
intent. Sara ducked. It missed her skull and connected with her shoulder.
She grimaced, but didn't allow it to distract her. Quickly calculating the
distance, she put all the power behind her leg and lashed out. Her leg
connected squarely with Eddie's midriff. The beam of light spun wildly around
the room as Eddie's arms flailed to find something for support. There was
nothing.
Sara witnessed the fall by the dance of the flashlight and the grunts made on
each connection with the stairs. The beam of light cut out suddenly. She
heard several more thumps before a sickening crunch. Adrenaline dipped
suddenly and Sara felt herself losing distance with reality. She slowly slid
down to the cold concrete stair, her back firmly pressed against the solid door.
Her head was still spinning and she let it fall forward onto her bent knees. In
the distance, she heard a car start and take off, spinning its tires with a
squeal. Reality began to set in and her shoulders shook as she gave in to the
fear that had held her in its grip for so long.
End Chapter 7/?
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