Sara reached out to ring the doorbell, but stopped herself.  What was she doing here? She had no idea what had possessed her to stop by Grissom's home after work.  Maybe they could brainstorm and come up with some answers in this case, she rationalized.  Her hand reached out again, this time pressing the button to alert the townhouse's occupant of her presence.

"Sara," Grissom sounded pleasantly surprised as he allowed her to enter. "Come in."

Sara stood in the foyer, feeling very awkward and trying to remember why she had come.

"Have a seat.  Can I get you anything?"

"Uh, sure," she snapped herself back into reality.

"I have wine, tea, milk, coffee and, of course, water."

"Tea's fine." She flashed him a nervous grin and made her way to the couch.  "I'm sorry to drop by unannounced like this.  You're probably sleeping at night while you're off work."

"No, I had a nap. I'm glad to see you," Grissom stumbled over the words.  He wasn't accustomed to warmly inviting anyone into his home.  He placed the glass of tea on the coffee table and sat in the recliner.  "To what do I owe the honor?"

"I'm, um, I'm not really sure.  I guess I wanted to see how you're doing."

"I'm hanging in there."

"Why would this woman do this, Grissom?" Sara blurted out.

"I don't know.  She asked for money."

"But when you made it clear she wouldn't get any, why did she pursue it?"

"That's a good question," Grissom agreed. "What's in it for her?"

Sara mentally ran through her list of questions.  "You're a CSI, not a CEO.  Why would she think you'd have money?"  She hoped that her tone wasn't accusatory; she merely sought answers to the thoughts that plagued her.  Her inquisitive nature was in overdrive, and this case was too important to settle for less than complete resolution.

"I inherited a great deal of money from my father," he conceded. "But I don't know how she would know that."

"I, um, I hope you know that I don't think you're guilty.  I'm just thinking maybe we can put our heads together and come up with some answers."

"I know.  And I appreciate it."

Sara took a swig of the tea. "If this was premeditated, and I'm thinking I was, how did she know you'd be at that store at that time?  Assuming she wasn't following you."

Grissom cocked an eyebrow. "Because I'm always at that store at that time on Wednesday nights."

"Ah, so all she'd have to do is watch you for a while.  See, one mystery solved already." She couldn't stop the pleased grin that spread across her face.

Grissom reached beside him to answer the ringing telephone.  His face immediately drained as he motioned for Sara to grab the extension.  She ran to the bedroom and gingerly pushed the button on the receiver, careful not to let the caller know that someone was listening.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Grissom asked.

"The price went up," Megan's voice reached Sara's ears. "For five hundred grand, I'll drop it. I'll tell them I misidentified my attacker and make a public apology."

"You're not getting a penny," Grissom replied sternly.

"Then have fun in prison." The line went dead.

"I don't get it," Sara said as she rejoined Grissom in the living room.  "What's the point in putting you in prison if she doesn't get anything for it?"

Grissom rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "Maybe she's planning to file a civil suit?"

They were quiet for a few moments, each lost in his or her respective thoughts.  Finally, Grissom asked, "Sara?"

"Hmm."

"Do me a favor.  Lay the case out for me."

"Um, all right.  There isn't much of one."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously, everything we have is circumstantial at best.  Your car is clean. Your house is clean. Your blankets are clean.  The most damning pieces of the puzzle from an evidentiary standpoint are the clock exam and the witness."

Grissom was surprised by both pieces.  "One at a time.  The clock exam?"

Sara felt the tension rise in her neck and shoulders, which was peculiar to her because she hadn't thought they could get any tighter.  "It looks like assault.  But we both know that if someone wanted to fabricate that, it wouldn't be difficult.  If she had a boyfriend, they could have worked together on that one."

He nodded. "She could have asked him to be rough just for that purpose."

"It would be painful, but there are people who would do just about anything for money."  Her expression was pained, and maybe a bit angry. 

"Are you okay with all of this?" Grissom prodded. "We all have our hot buttons, and violence against women seems to be yours."  He prayed that she wouldn't be offended by his concern.

"I'm not thrilled with the thought that a woman would fake something so serious," she acknowledged softly. "It's hard enough for a victim to be believed when she's courageous enough to come forward to prosecute her attacker without people like Megan Phillips around.  But I've seen women lie about it before."

Satisfied with her response, Grissom got back to the matter at hand.  "What about this witness?"

"Roger Harkness.  He's a contractor at the development. He says he dropped by to make sure things were cool at the site when he saw a couple having sex. You should probably know that he gave us a description of the vehicle and a partial plate.  They're a perfect match to yours."  She was almost apologetic as she relayed the information.

Grissom was lost in thought, and seemed not to hear her.

"Grissom?"

"The name Harkness is interesting," he said contemplatively. " I knew a Harkness eons ago.  My father's business partner."

Sara sat straight up. "It's not a very common name."

"It was forty years ago.  Hard to imagine how it could relate here."

"Oh," Sara remembered her colleague's discovery. "Ecklie showed that your hands didn't cause the bruising on her arms.  Too small."

"Ecklie? Thank him for me."

The absence of the boxes she'd seen earlier on the computer desk caught Sara's attention.  "What happened to the video phones?"

"Mine is hooked up, and I overnighted the other to my mother.  Hopefully she'll get it up and running tomorrow.  You left it, so I presumed it wasn't evidence."

His smile was infectious. "You seem to be in remarkably good spirits, all things considered," Sara noted.

"I trust you."

"Since when?"  Sara regretted the words immediately, but they had slipped out before she could corral them.

"I always have.  All of this free time has enabled me to do a great deal of thinking about things, Sara.  Wouldn't you know it, I found the perfect quotation."  He walked over to the bookshelf.  Sara's head was spinning as he searched for the appropriate passage.  Was he flirting with her?  Again?

"M. Scott Peck," Grissom read. "'The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are uncomfortable, unhappy or unfulfilled.  For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.'"

"Are you trying to say you're stepping out of your rut?"

"Don't you think I need to?"

"Only you can answer that.  I should get going.  This day shift thing is wreaking havoc on my internal clock."

"You seem like you're doing all right."  Grissom observed.

Sara yawned and looked at the clock. "I think I could get used to it, but it could take a while." 

Grissom walked her to the door.  "Thanks for coming by.  I feel a little better about my situation now."  Sara headed down the walk toward the parking lot. "And Sara? Don't"

She stopped and turned back to face him. "Don't what?"

"Don't get used to day shift."

TBC