Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Never have and probably never will. :-(
Notes: Thanx for all the reviews!----------------At the Lab---------------
"What do you mean, I can't have a warrant?"
Judge Hanson's voice came over the telephone. "Sorry, Stokes. I hope you find your friend, but all you've got is a guy going to a gas station, and I can't give you a warrant based on that alone."
Nick hung up, too angry to reply. "Nick?" Sara was looking at him. "He didn't give us one, did he?"
"No! He didn't!" Nick struggled to control his emotions. "Sorry, I just-"
"It's okay." They stood in silence for a minute, trying to figure out what to do.
"What about what-'is-name? Cat's friend - you know, the district engineer - Paul Newsome? Maybe he could find the deeds - if we get the owner's permission, we don't need a warrant.
"Yeah, I'll give him a call."
Twenty Minutes Later, 9:20 pm...
The phone kept ringing. Come on, pick UP! Sara mentally urged whoever was on the other side.
"Hello?" A well-mannered voice answered.
"Hello, I'm Sara Sidle, with the Las Vegas Crime Lab, I was wondering if I could talk to you about your gas station."
"Yes?" the voice was guarded now - anyone would be after receiving a call from a "crime lab."
"Well, we have reason to believe that a kidnapper is holding a woman there, but we don't have enough for a search warrant. If we had your permission, however..."
"Um... sure. It's been basically abandoned for years, don't know why anyone would want to go there."
Sara cut him off. "Thank you." she hung up, turning to Nick. "Let's go."
---------------Gerald Fremont's House---------------
Grissom hung up the phone and turned around; Brass and Warrick were both looking at him. "They got the owner's permission!"
"Alright, let's go!" They left the house, running to the cars.
-----------------Gas-and-Go Station----------------
Catherine sat on the dirt floor of the little shack, crying. It didn't happen, didn't happen, didn't happen! she repeated to herself over and over, hoping that if she said it enough it would be true. She had tried to fight him off - and maybe if her hands had been free, she would've been able to- but couldn't. HE had forced her to the ground and riped off her clothes. And then...
The door opening interrupted her thoughts. A dark shape filled the doorway and Catherine shrank back against the wall. He walked toward her, stepping over the rope she had finally gotten off her wrists. "Oh, come on, Cat. Your not still scared of me are you? Still? After we know each other so well?" He laughed as she tried to move as far away from him as possible, clutching the tattered edges of her shirt together. He approached her, reaching out to touch her face. She jerked away, but the wall was behind her, and she couldn't back up any more. He lowered his hand. "Relax, Cath. I just came to bring you some food." She hadn't noticed the bag of chips he held in his other hand. He gave it to her, and she took it cautiously. "It's still sealed - I didn't do anything to it." Catherine dropped it to the ground, not wanting to let her guard down. He turned and walked out, "I'll see you later," he called as the lock clicked, his meaning obvious in his tone of voice. Gerald walked back into the gas station, where he had set up a cot for himself. He would go see her after she was asleep, - he touched his face ruefully, the three deep cuts still sore - she was too dangerous when awake.