A/N: This is a quick update, but only because the second chapter was already nearly finished. Don't expect this all of the time G.
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Sara Sidle swam in apprehension as she sat in Conrad Ecklie's office awaiting her meeting with the other criminalists investigating the charges against Grissom. For the twelfth time today, she questioned her sanity. How could she possibly have thought it might be acceptable for her to take this case? She stared at her fingernails; perhaps the answer might be hiding there.
"Good afternoon, Sidle," Ecklie gushed. "I presume you know you're working with me?"
"You're the primary?"
Ecklie grinned like the cat that ate the canary. "Yep."
"Is it just you and I?"
"Unfortunately, yes. Mitch Warren was going to be working with us, but he's had to take a homicide that just came in."
Sara gave him a suspicious glare, but then softened it. Of course he had chosen this case for himself. She couldn't help but wonder if his longtime antipathy for Grissom would affect his judgment. She decided it might be best to allow him to lead, but keep a close eye on him.
"So where do we start?" she asked unassumingly.
"We're bringing the vic in for an interview. She should be here any minute now."
"Oh, goody." From his reaction, Sara knew she shouldn't have said that aloud.
"Are you sure you're okay with this case?"
"I'm fine," Sara crossed her arms defensively in front of her abdomen. "Do we have the vic's clock exam?"
"Right here." He handed the report to her. "Bruising and abrasion on the inferior aspect. Consistent with sexual assault."
Sara winced as she examined the photographs. "It says here that the swabs came back negative for semen."
"She says he used a condom. What criminalist would be stupid enough to leave DNA evidence?" As he finished his statement, his pager sounded. He removed it from its clip and glanced at it. "She's here. Ready?"
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Megan Phillips twitched nervously in her seat as Sara and Ecklie entered the room. Recognition flickered in her blue eyes. "I know you guys," she pointed vaguely at the CSIs.
"And we've seen you. You work at the front desk, right?" Ecklie asked.
"Yeah, but I've only seen you a couple of times." She looked accusingly at Sara. "She works with…him. She's going to try to twist everything in his favor."
Sara took a deep breath. "I can assure you, Miss Phillips, that I'm a professional. If the evidence indicates that Dr. Grissom's guilty, then so be it."
"I think you'll find CSI Sidle to be fair and impartial," Ecklie added. "Her reputation is beyond reproach."
"Start from the beginning," Sara suggested. "Don't leave anything out."
"Um, okay." Megan appeared to be fighting back tears. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you. This whole thing has really thrown me for a loop."
"It's all right," Sara replied. "Just tell us what happened."
"I was at the grocery store—I just needed to pick up a couple of things. Anyway, when I left, my car wouldn't start. My brother's a mechanic, so I didn't see the need to waste time or money on a tow. I just needed a ride home." She grabbed a tissue from the box on the table and dabbed at her eyes. "And then I saw him in the parki—"
"Who?" Ecklie asked.
"Dr. Grissom."
"I'm sorry, we just need you to state the name for the record. Please continue."
"I saw him, Dr. Grissom, in the parking lot and figured he could drop me off. I only live a half a mile from the store. I, I guess I should have walked."
"Did you ask him for a ride?" Ecklie studied her face carefully.
"Yeah, and he seemed okay with it. He was nice at first, you know?"
"Did he ask your name, or did he know it?"
"He didn't ask, but I told him anyway."
Sara mentally catalogued every expression and inflection. "You sat in the front seat?"
Megan nodded. "Uh huh. When he drove right past my street, I thought he just forgot, or maybe I didn't explain where I lived well enough. So I asked him where he was going. He said he had another stop to make first."
"Where did he take you?" Ecklie asked.
"To that housing development that's under construction up above Horizon Ridge. It's mostly vacant lots. When he parked the car, he got out and got a blanket from the back. He threw it on the ground."
Sara appeared puzzled. "Did that frighten you?"
"No, I mean, I know the guy—sort of. He's got a good reputation. I never thought he'd hurt me. At least not until he grabbed me by the arms and pushed me down on the blanket." She rubbed the bruises on her upper arms.
"Did he say anything?" Ecklie queried.
"He was all business. He told me to be still and be quiet or he'd kill me. He took my pants off. I didn't fight back—I was so afraid. I was almost in shock."
"Did he remove his own clothing?"
"No, he just pulled down his pants a little. Oh God, this is so embarrassing." As the sobs tumbled out, Sara handed her another tissue. "When it was over, he just folded up the blanket and got back in the car like nothing happened. He told me to keep my mouth shut because no one would believe me anyway. And he could make my life here really miserable."
"Did he use a condom?" Sara asked.
"Yes. He was real careful. Even combed out my hair, um, down there, so he wouldn't leave any evidence, I guess."
"Where did he dispose of the condom?"
"I don't know. I didn't see."
"Did you scratch him anywhere, or mark him at all?"
"No, no, I told you, I didn't fight back." Megan gave a distressed wail. "How could I be so stupid? You could have gotten DNA from under my nails. Damn!"
Ecklie decided to play hardball. "We've received word that you attempted to extort money from Dr. Grissom in the parking lot yesterday evening. Is that true?"
"No," Megan responded emphatically. "Is that what he told you? I saw him in the parking lot, but I didn't ask for money. I don't know why I talked to him, really. He couldn't have said anything that would make it all better. But when he denied everything, I knew I had to press charges. He shouldn't get away with treating women that way."
"Megan," Sara said softly, "I promise you that we will get to the bottom of this."
"What will you do next?" Megan sniffed.
"Well," Ecklie began, "we'll interview Dr. Grissom and get a warrant for his car and maybe his home."
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Grissom summoned up every bit of equanimity he could muster as he sat in the interrogation room. Interrogation room three had long been his favorite, though he couldn't say why. It was funny how the familiarity failed to ease his discomfort. As he stared at the mirrored wall, he knew that, in all likelihood, one or more investigators watched him from the other side. Was this all some kind of cosmic joke to the multitude of lab employees? Had he now become something of a curiosity? Hey, come see the Gruesome Grissom in the hot seat! He shook his head dolefully. Take it easy, Gil, you're inflating your own importance. He almost felt relieved when the door opened and Ecklie and Sara sat across from him.
"Hello," was all he could think to say.
"Grissom," Ecklie acknowledged with a nod.
Sara said nothing. It was rare that she found herself at a loss for words, but seeing Grissom like this sent a wave of sympathy and grief for him washing over her.
"Well, no tension here," Ecklie said sarcastically. "Let's get started."
"Where should I start?" Grissom kicked himself mentally for the utter stupidity of his question.
"At the beginning, Gil."
Sara spoke for the first time. "You were at the grocery store, right? Wednesday evening, in the parking lot."
"Yes," he responded quietly. "I was putting the bags into the car when I was approached by a young woman whom I vaguely recognized. She introduced herself as the new receptionist."
"She told you her name? Or did you remember it?" Ecklie asked.
"Why does it matter?" Being on the receiving end of the questioning was proving more difficult even than Grissom had imagined.
"The devil is in the details, Gil. You know that."
"Sorry. She told me her name, and it sounded familiar. She said she was having car trouble and that she needed a ride home. I didn't want to do it."
"Why not?" Ecklie pressed.
"I enjoy my solitude," Grissom explained curtly. "I have to deal with people at work. When I'm off duty, I want to be left alone, and I always resent any intrusion into my privacy. I didn't know her well, and I didn't want her in my car."
Elbows on the table, Sara clasped her hands together and rested her chin upon them. "But you agreed. Why?"
"I was trying to be nice. I've been accused in the past of being aloof, robotic," he gave Sara a pointed look, "of not feeling anything."
The subtle exchange between them was not lost on Ecklie. He filed it away in his mind and continued the questioning. "What happened on the drive to her apartment?"
"Nothing. We didn't even make small talk. I dropped her off in front of her building and that was the end of it."
"Did you make any sexual advances toward her?"
"No."
"Did she make any sexual advances toward you?"
"No."
"When did you see her again?"
"The next evening in the lab parking lot. She accused me of assaulting her and demanded $100,000 to keep quiet."
Ecklie leaned forward. "Here's something I don't understand: Why would she think a CSI would have that kind of money laying around?"
Grissom sighed. "I don't know."
"You know that we have to impound your vehicle," Ecklie said matter-of-factly.
"When I see the warrant, I'll park it in the garage for you." In response to Grissom's statement, Sara held up the appropriate document for him. "Fine. I'll take a taxi to the rental car counter."
"Grissom," Sara began softly, her discomfort apparent, "you should know that we've asked for a warrant for your townhouse as well."
Grissom nodded grimly and rose to leave. Ecklie stopped him. "One more thing, Gil." He retrieved a tape measure from his pocket. "I need to measure your hands."
The entomologist dutifully held out his palms while his colleague took the measurements. "Are we finished now?"
"Yep," Ecklie confirmed. "We'll see you at your place when the warrant comes through."
TBC
