A long exhalation signaled the end to the long silence. Sara dropped her
head, ran her hands through her hair, and then abruptly looked up, a small
smirk twisting her mouth as she saw everyone trying to look away quickly
and pretend that they hadn't been staring at her. The ghost of a smile
disappeared immediately, as the lines of her face pulled into a hard mask
of anger. "Coop. Get access to those personnel records. Same search as
before, but filter by agents who attended Harvard or were in Boston in the
years1989 and 1994."
"Sara...?" He fished for an explanation.
Her eyes were hard and cold as she stared at him down the length of the conference table. "Just do it. Get me pictures." She kept her head immobile, chin propped up in hands, but twitched her eyes over to Grissom. "At least we know why Las Vegas. You may be a target too, but I don't think so."
Grissom rolled his chair closer to the end of the table, where she sat. "Sara," he began, his voice gentle and comforting, "what happened at Harvard?" She seemed to have retreated again, her eyes unfocused on a spot somewhere near the center of the table. He reached up and took her hand, surprising himself as well as Sara when he entwined their fingers together and squeezed her hand tightly. "Sara?"
"It's... nothing you haven't already suspected." Her words ran together as she breathed out the sentence. Although she knew other people were listening, she seemed to be talking only to Gil, the blue of his eyes a comforting expanse, like waves of an ocean buoying her. "The first time...I was a freshman. I didn't tell anyone, I didn't know how." She paused, considering how such a thing might have been possible. Catherine's eyes were dark as she heard the pain and despair in Sara's voice and she knew she wasn't the only one around the table planning the demise of the person who had done this to Sara. "The second time, I reported it. They didn't catch him." Her eyes narrowed. "But I will now," she said with certainty in her voice.
"You think this is the same suspect?"
"It is."
"How do you know?"
"Beth." Her eyes squeezed shut as she spoke, the first flicker of emotion besides anger showing in her face. When she opened her eyes again, Gil's puzzled expression prompted her to continue. "My middle name is, or was, Elizabeth. Mom always liked that better, so growing up, I was Beth. Until my freshman year at college. Only one person has called me that since then."
"Sara," Nick choked out, his eyes bright with tears. She knew he empathized, having gone through a similar experience himself. Her smile was gentle, like she was trying to comfort him. "Thanks, Nick. It's ok. I made my peace with it a long time ago." She saw the doubt in his eyes. "Really. I decided a long time ago it wouldn't control me." Another silence stretched around the table, until Cooper got up and walked around the table.
He stood beside Sara. "You can't be a part of this investigation anymore. I need you to identify the suspect, and then let us do the rest." His reluctance at the steps he had to take was clear. "I have to ask for your badge and your gun now." She met his eyes calmly, with none of the anger that might have been expected. Catherine watched impassively, immediately suspicious of Sara's quick acceptance. As Sara put her gun and badge on the table, Catherine realized that she's still going after this guy, gun or no gun. As Cooper picked up her holster and badge, he dropped another holster in front of her. He met her look with a bland expression of his own. "You are still targeted by a serial killer. I'm not letting you walk around without protection." He indicated the gun. "It's legal, registered to you, and I expedited the paperwork for you to carry it concealed."
"You forged my name," she said, with some semblance of her normal sense of humor. "That's a federal offense."
"Then I hope the FBI doesn't catch me, then," he retorted dryly. He rested a hand on her shoulder, patting reassuringly. She rested her hand on his, but her mind had drifted off again, and she was once again oblivious to attentions of the two men gazing at her with concern.
Quiet conversation started up around the warehouse as the work on the investigation continued around the island of silence at the conference table. The CSI team was officially off the clock, but no one wanted to leave. It took a long time to get access to the personnel records, but finally Cooper delivered fifteen grainy photos to Sara, who spread them out on a light table in the corner of the room, her back to the people who watched her anxiously. Catherine found her gaze moving between Sara, Gil, and Cooper as the two men were obviously fighting an urge to go the immobile figure, a dark swath outlined by the lights shining through the table. Cooper seemed to make up his mind first, and he stood, drawing all eyes to him, but instead of joining Sara, he headed over to a communication center set up in the corner and spoke quietly with one of the technicians.
The field of battle apparently left to him, Gil finally stood, with jerky, uncoordinated movements, and joined Sara. He stood a pace behind her, as if his feet had gotten him to that point before the use of his body abandoned him. He found his voice, however, and asked, "Recognize anyone?"
"Do you?" she responded, answering his question with a question. "He was in your seminar with me," she clarified. Startled, he leaned forward and looked over the photos attentively, but none were familiar. "No." He paused, remembering an earlier, and much happier time. "But then, I don't think I noticed anything that semester except this incredibly bright physics graduate student with beautiful brown eyes who kept asking me out for coffee after class." The admission seemed to revive her a little; she sniffed in amusement. His voice lost the gentle teasing tone he had given it when he continued. "I always wondered why she abruptly stopped asking me out."
She sighed, and reached down to tap a picture with her index finger. "Now we both know." His hand reached up, like it wasn't even a part of him, to press into the small of her back, to support or soothe, he wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure she noticed the touch. They stood like that for a long time, and Gil was just about to say something when Sara whipped the photo off the table with one smooth motion and strode over to Cooper. He stared at the photo in his hand for a moment before meeting her eyes; he knew she was thinking, like he was, that they had worked at least one case with him and, while not close, were friendly enough colleagues. The bleak look in her eyes unnerved him. "Sara, I'm going to send Agent Fordham with you to the hotel." She didn't say anything, just nodded blankly, and followed Fordham through the door. He saw Catherine's narrowed eyes as she watched Sara disappear through the door. Nick was picking up his jacket, telling Grissom that he was going back to the hotel to stay with Sara, when Fordham came back into the room to tell them that Sara had jumped into her own rental and left.
"Sara...?" He fished for an explanation.
Her eyes were hard and cold as she stared at him down the length of the conference table. "Just do it. Get me pictures." She kept her head immobile, chin propped up in hands, but twitched her eyes over to Grissom. "At least we know why Las Vegas. You may be a target too, but I don't think so."
Grissom rolled his chair closer to the end of the table, where she sat. "Sara," he began, his voice gentle and comforting, "what happened at Harvard?" She seemed to have retreated again, her eyes unfocused on a spot somewhere near the center of the table. He reached up and took her hand, surprising himself as well as Sara when he entwined their fingers together and squeezed her hand tightly. "Sara?"
"It's... nothing you haven't already suspected." Her words ran together as she breathed out the sentence. Although she knew other people were listening, she seemed to be talking only to Gil, the blue of his eyes a comforting expanse, like waves of an ocean buoying her. "The first time...I was a freshman. I didn't tell anyone, I didn't know how." She paused, considering how such a thing might have been possible. Catherine's eyes were dark as she heard the pain and despair in Sara's voice and she knew she wasn't the only one around the table planning the demise of the person who had done this to Sara. "The second time, I reported it. They didn't catch him." Her eyes narrowed. "But I will now," she said with certainty in her voice.
"You think this is the same suspect?"
"It is."
"How do you know?"
"Beth." Her eyes squeezed shut as she spoke, the first flicker of emotion besides anger showing in her face. When she opened her eyes again, Gil's puzzled expression prompted her to continue. "My middle name is, or was, Elizabeth. Mom always liked that better, so growing up, I was Beth. Until my freshman year at college. Only one person has called me that since then."
"Sara," Nick choked out, his eyes bright with tears. She knew he empathized, having gone through a similar experience himself. Her smile was gentle, like she was trying to comfort him. "Thanks, Nick. It's ok. I made my peace with it a long time ago." She saw the doubt in his eyes. "Really. I decided a long time ago it wouldn't control me." Another silence stretched around the table, until Cooper got up and walked around the table.
He stood beside Sara. "You can't be a part of this investigation anymore. I need you to identify the suspect, and then let us do the rest." His reluctance at the steps he had to take was clear. "I have to ask for your badge and your gun now." She met his eyes calmly, with none of the anger that might have been expected. Catherine watched impassively, immediately suspicious of Sara's quick acceptance. As Sara put her gun and badge on the table, Catherine realized that she's still going after this guy, gun or no gun. As Cooper picked up her holster and badge, he dropped another holster in front of her. He met her look with a bland expression of his own. "You are still targeted by a serial killer. I'm not letting you walk around without protection." He indicated the gun. "It's legal, registered to you, and I expedited the paperwork for you to carry it concealed."
"You forged my name," she said, with some semblance of her normal sense of humor. "That's a federal offense."
"Then I hope the FBI doesn't catch me, then," he retorted dryly. He rested a hand on her shoulder, patting reassuringly. She rested her hand on his, but her mind had drifted off again, and she was once again oblivious to attentions of the two men gazing at her with concern.
Quiet conversation started up around the warehouse as the work on the investigation continued around the island of silence at the conference table. The CSI team was officially off the clock, but no one wanted to leave. It took a long time to get access to the personnel records, but finally Cooper delivered fifteen grainy photos to Sara, who spread them out on a light table in the corner of the room, her back to the people who watched her anxiously. Catherine found her gaze moving between Sara, Gil, and Cooper as the two men were obviously fighting an urge to go the immobile figure, a dark swath outlined by the lights shining through the table. Cooper seemed to make up his mind first, and he stood, drawing all eyes to him, but instead of joining Sara, he headed over to a communication center set up in the corner and spoke quietly with one of the technicians.
The field of battle apparently left to him, Gil finally stood, with jerky, uncoordinated movements, and joined Sara. He stood a pace behind her, as if his feet had gotten him to that point before the use of his body abandoned him. He found his voice, however, and asked, "Recognize anyone?"
"Do you?" she responded, answering his question with a question. "He was in your seminar with me," she clarified. Startled, he leaned forward and looked over the photos attentively, but none were familiar. "No." He paused, remembering an earlier, and much happier time. "But then, I don't think I noticed anything that semester except this incredibly bright physics graduate student with beautiful brown eyes who kept asking me out for coffee after class." The admission seemed to revive her a little; she sniffed in amusement. His voice lost the gentle teasing tone he had given it when he continued. "I always wondered why she abruptly stopped asking me out."
She sighed, and reached down to tap a picture with her index finger. "Now we both know." His hand reached up, like it wasn't even a part of him, to press into the small of her back, to support or soothe, he wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure she noticed the touch. They stood like that for a long time, and Gil was just about to say something when Sara whipped the photo off the table with one smooth motion and strode over to Cooper. He stared at the photo in his hand for a moment before meeting her eyes; he knew she was thinking, like he was, that they had worked at least one case with him and, while not close, were friendly enough colleagues. The bleak look in her eyes unnerved him. "Sara, I'm going to send Agent Fordham with you to the hotel." She didn't say anything, just nodded blankly, and followed Fordham through the door. He saw Catherine's narrowed eyes as she watched Sara disappear through the door. Nick was picking up his jacket, telling Grissom that he was going back to the hotel to stay with Sara, when Fordham came back into the room to tell them that Sara had jumped into her own rental and left.