"Alex, this is Nick Stokes from the crime lab in Las Vegas. Could you give me a call? I have a case I'd like you to look at," I said . . . I was sitting at the break room table. Her GPS had been turned off. It was my nightmare. We could have at least tracked her. Warrick said he would keep her GPS profile up on the computer in the off chance her phone was turned on again. It was the best that we could do while the cell phone company was trying to figure out what tower routed Sara's calls.

My cell phone was on the table. I watched it . . . I counted the minutes until Alex called. It was the last of my ideas. I was reaching . . . reaching for about anything. Grissom wouldn't like Alex. This I was sure of. Grissom had slowly assumed this case. Catherine said that there was an air of obsession. His obsession was my girlfriend. I always thought of Grissom as a friend. Sometimes, he was my confidant. I trusted him, but I knew that I couldn't trust him with Sara. The way he looked at her in the morning when he was handing out assignments. The loud, brash ringing of my cell phone drew me from my thoughts.

"Stokes," I said as I answered my cell phone.

"Nick, it's Allie. What case do you have for me?" Alex said. She sounded exhausted.

"Allie, I have a missing woman. She's still alive. I need to figure out who would have taken her. I need to do it fast," I said. I wasn't sure if Alex would take the case if she knew how personal it was. Alex was a pro . . . she didn't mince words. She was a lot like a kinder, gentler Grissom.

"Nick, I'll be on the next flight. You'll pick me up from the airport?" Allie asked. She sounded intrigued.

"Allie, I don't know how to thank you," I said.

"Nick, you don't have to pretend. I know about the case. It's been on the news . . . the amber alert signs. Vegas isn't as isolated from LA like you want to think it is. I'll bring your CSI home," Allie replied. Intuitive. It was the only way to truly describe Alexandra Winters. I met her at a conference two years ago. Criminal profiler extraordinaire. Allie did have the track record to back that title up. She came up to me after my presentation of a case that I solved solely on fiber evidence. Allie said that she could have solved it faster by giving me a profile of the likely suspects. I asked her if she was a gambling woman. She replied that was for Vegas . . . she was always right . . . it wasn't a matter of luck or chance. Allie slipped her card into my pocket. She said to call her sometime. I did . . . I called her hotel room twenty minutes later to ask her to have drinks with me. Today, I called her again. This time was solely out of necessity, not out of fun or a friendly challenge.

"Allie, call me when your plane lands," I said.

"Nick, I hope your girlfriend is okay," Allie said.

"How do you know these things?" I asked.

"Inflections in your voice. The way you won't say her name. The way you called me out of desperation. Nick, you aren't that hard to figure out. I'll see you in a few hours," Allie said as she hung up the telephone.

Now, I had to resume the waiting game.


"Catherine, who's that in the evidence room with Nick?" I asked. I watched the two work together. There was an intensity and urgency there that I had never seen in his eyes. She was talking the entire time. She wrote catch phrases on the glass windows with a dry erase board pen. She was a profiler.

"Alex Winters. She flew in from LA. Nick knows her from a conference he went to," Catherine replied. I knew that she didn't want to be the one to give me the news. This was my lab . . . this was my case. He didn't have the authority to take that away from me. I walked away from Catherine. I left her in the wake of my anger.

"Nick, could I speak to you for a minute?" I grumbled as I walked into the evidence room. I hadn't noticed that Greg was in there too. He was showing Alex the chemical profile of some of the dust found at the crime scene.

"Gil Grissom. This is Dr. Alexandra Winter. She's a profiler from LA," Nick said. He ignored the question I asked him. It was more of a command than a question. He refused to hear it.

"Call me Alex. I've heard a lot about you from Nick," Alex said. The expression on her face told the whole story. She had heard a lot of not so good information about me. I shook her hand. I was irate.

"Nick, outside now," I commanded barely able to hold me tongue until we got out in the hallway, "This is my case. I expect at least a little respect from you. We aren't competing to see who can get Sara home first."

"Alex is the best. She's doing me a favor by examining the case. She can at least provide us with some suspects. I don't see you interviewing anyone," Nick replied defensively.

"Who's paying for your profiler?" I asked. I knew that I was defeated. I toyed with the idea of a profiler, but I wanted to believe that the evidence held the answers. In this case, the scene was clean. There was no evidence to recount the last ten hours.

"I am. I don't expect you to," Nick replied.

"What does that mean?" I asked confused.

"I'm doing this for my girlfriend. I'm not doing this because it's my job. I'm doing this for all the right reasons. I'm not trying to be some pseudo-hero. I'm just trying to bring Sara home," Nick said as he walked back into the evidence room.

I watched Alex hand him a cup of coffee. Warrick had joined their private party. I watched Warrick copy down her window scribblings on to paper.

"You know we should just suck it up and go in there and listen to her," Catherine commented. I knew it wasn't her nature to believe in people. Her husband had let her down. I let her down more than once.

"Maybe. I'm running out of ideas. I'm not too keen on waiting for another telephone call," I replied.

"Gris, work with him not against him," Catherine said as she put a hand on my shoulder, "I've read about Dr. Winters."

"She's the best. She's solved cases that I couldn't bring to court with the evidence," I replied.


"Brass and Stokes, tell me about the scene as you first came up on to it," I said.

"Nineteen year old shot twice in the chest and abdomen on the landing of a public housing building," Nick said as we rehashed the case for the fourth time. This time everyone decided to show up to help.

"Was there anything remarkable about the scene?" I asked.

"Pretty standard police shooting," Brass replied.

"Did your office radio in the events in real time?" I asked Brass.

"It's standard procedure," Brass began.

"That doesn't mean that it happened. Did your officer radio in the events?" I asked again. I had barely anything to work with. The scene was clean. The calls weren't easy to trace. My head was pounding. I was starving.

"He did," Brass replied. He was irritated with my questions. I could see it in his eyes.

"Did your officer also radio in the CSIs on the scene?" I asked.

"He did. We keep it in the file. In this case, IA always wants to know who to interview," Brass replied.

"Well, that's how he figured out that Sara was there. Vegas scrambles their police frequency don't they?" I asked. It was the little piece that I needed . . . something to begin to bring all these loose ends together.

"They have for years," Grissom replied. He had been nearly silent the entire time. He offered so little information. My supervisor in LA knew of Grissom. He was a legend in the forensic science circles. My supervisor warned me to step lightly . . . get in and get the hell out.

"Okay, he's techno savvy. He's familiar with the system. Greg, make a few calls for me," I said.

"What do you need, Allie?" Greg asked as he stood up. He was on his third pot of coffee, but he said that he wanted to stay.

"Call Radio Shack, Best Buy, Military Wholesale . . . any place that might sell devices to unscramble frequencies. Get me two years worth of sales," I replied. I rubbed my eyes.

"In just Vegas?" Greg asked. He knew how big of a job that this was going to be.

"Abductors work where they are comfortable. He's probably been in Vegas for years. He knows the streets. He doesn't stick out. Just Vegas, Greg," I replied.

"Warrick, you said that Sara didn't discharge her gun. The prints on the safety and barrel aren't hers?" I asked to clarify.

"Yeh," Warrick replied . . . he was working on a liter bottle of Mountain Dew. His eyes were bleary. He answered slowly.

"He brought his own. That's how he got her to go with him. Okay, this makes sense. He walks up behind Sara while she is finishing up. He puts a gun to her head . . . pulls her gun out of the holster. He drops it on the ground. Sara wouldn't just walk with him . . . she had to have been bound somehow. Catherine, have you dusted the duct tape in Sara's kit?" I asked. I had the scene playing in my head. I looked at Nick. He did too. I could see it in his eyes. It was something horrible to imagine. It gave me the chills. Every case gave me the chills.

"No, I hadn't thought of that," Catherine said as she disappeared. It was just Grissom, Warrick, Nick and I. I had sent everyone else away to work.

"The telephone calls. Grissom, the male called him and Sara a family?" I asked.

"He did," Grissom replied.

"He's studied her. He's probably studied her for at least a year. He's comfortable with the idea of her. He knows her schedule. Nick, what floor is her apartment on? Does it face another building?"

"Fifth floor. Her living room window faces the adjacent building," Nick offered.

"Okay, Warrick. I need the names of everyone that is currently living on the fourth, fifth, and sixth floor of both her building and the adjacent building," I replied . . . I rubbed my temples.

"What else should I know about Sara? Personal things. Mannerisms. How would Sara leave us evidence?"

"AA. She always goes to the same location . . . same day of the week. The meetings fit into her schedule pretty well," Nick replied.

"Grissom, get the names of the regular attendees," I said. Grissom looked at me funny before leaving the room. I had commandeered his ship. He was taking it well . . . on the outside.

"What do we do, Allie?" Nick asked.

"Take me to the crime scene," I asked him. He visibly shuddered that my request.

"Allie, I don't know if I can be there," Nick replied softly. His words were so soft that they were barely audible.

"I need to see it. You can stay in the car. I just need to see it. I have a profile in my mind, but I need to see if my theory is at all probable," I explained. I massaged his shoulders . . . hard as rocks, "Nick, we can do this. We can bring her home."

"Allie, she needs to come home," Nick whispered. He was shaking. I knew that he was crying . . . I rested my hands on his shoulders. Sometimes, I thought that I knew too much about mannerisms; too little about emotion.

"Nick, I'll bring her home," I whispered. It was a reply that I knew was against my better judgment.


Alex was gentle with him. I watched her rest her hands on his shoulders . . . letting him get out the emotion that he had been hiding since early this morning. Alex was on the ball . . . pointing us in directions that I hadn't yet considered. I could see her brain working on the case. Her green eyes were incredibly expressive . . . she had something in the brain of hers. She was just waiting to see if the evidence would corroborate it. She was doing something I couldn't do right now . . . she was being the leader.

"Gil, the prints on the duct tape match the mystery prints on the gun," Catherine said as she sat across from me, "How are you doing?"

"Cat, why didn't I see these things?" I asked.

"You are seeing Sara . . . not the evidence. It wasn't wise for us to even take the case. We are too involved. Nick was right to call in Alex," Catherine said. I could see the tears brimming in her eyes, "Gil . . . it's okay to feel something. It's okay to be sad."

"Cat, what if we don't find her?" I asked.

"I don't know," Catherine replied . . . she hung her head. She started to shake. I stood up . . . walked around my desk to where she was. I put my arms around her . . . she stood up and hugged me. I kissed her forehead.


I watched her walk the crime scene. She studied every little angle. They had unsecured the scene hours ago.

"Nick, did they print the stairwell . . . the railings?" Alex asked.

"Catherine did. There were too many prints. Most of them were smudged beyond recognition," I replied.

"Damn," Alex whispered, "Walk the street with me."

Alex took my hand . . . guiding me away from the scene. She tried to get me to focus. She told me to stop thinking about the 'what ifs.' She said that right now that was all irrelevant. We walked the perimeter of the building. I watched her look for anything that might be out of place.

"An ATM," Alex said, "Give me your cell phone. I'm calling Brass. I want this ATM."

"Alex, we might be able to see him," I whispered . . . I handed over my cell phone. Alex was smiling . . . she called Brass. Alex was so comfortable with this investigation. She was so comfortable being in charge . . . this I was thankful for.

"Nick, it's going to take a few hours. I need to go shower and sleep. Warrick gave me his keys. We can get something to eat . . . get some sleep. We'll be able to think better," Alex coaxed.

"I'd like to go back to the lab," I replied . . . though sleep did sound good.

"Nick, please. You need to take care of yourself. Come with me . . . Warrick should be there too. Greg was going to crash there for a while to," Alex said as she hopped in the Denali. It was a difficult feat for her . . . she was short. Maybe five foot four. She was petite . . . small frame . . . fine bone structure. She had a lot of the same sharp features as Sara . . . but I was able to see Sara in almost everyone on the street,

"I didn't realize he was running a bed and breakfast," I replied, "Only until the ATM video gets to the lab."


Alex was sprawled across my bed. Her chest rose shallowly . . . she looked nearly comatose. I watched the sunrise. It was morning again. Sara had been gone for twenty four hours. It was getting hard to be hopeful.

Nick was sleeping on the couch. His sleep had been fitful. Alex let me sleep earlier . . . she said that she would stay awake while Nick was sleeping . . . I let her go to sleep four hours later. She was asleep well before her head touched the pillow. Greg was sleeping in a chair by the window. We had all been going straight for the better part of twenty four hours.

The ATM tape was at the lab. Catherine called me. I didn't dare wake them up yet. I knew that there would be hell to pay for this, but they needed their sleep. Catherine said that Grissom had finally fallen asleep in the break room. I enjoyed the silence. There had been so little silence in the last twenty four hours. I watched the sunrise . . . the brilliant oranges, pinks, and fuchsias invaded the horizon.

I wondered what was happening to Sara. I worried about her, but I knew that she would be able to hold her own. She was tough as nails. She was a fighter.

"Warrick, is the tape in yet?" Alex asked . . . she looked miserable. She only had been asleep for two hours.

"Alex, go back to sleep," I replied . . . my eyes never leaving the horizon.

"Warrick," Alex appealed.

"I'll drive you," I said relenting.


"Sara, you should eat something. You must be hungry," Glen said as he brushed my hair.

"Glen, I'm not hungry. I'm very tired. My arms hurt very badly from the handcuff," I said sweetly . . . anything to appeal to his kinder side.

"Sara, you need to promise that you will behave. You need to listen to me," Glen said sweetly . . . he kissed my cheek. I held back my anger. He uncuffed me . . . there were big, ugly, black bruises around my wrists. I rubbed then gently . . . Glen said that he would get some Tylenol to help me with the pain. He was treating me well . . . I was thankful that he hadn't raped me . . . or killed me. I was glad that his psychosis was bringing out a tender side of him. He seemed so different from the guy that held the gun to my head yesterday. He was buying Nick more time to find me. I would just need to be patient . . . to play his game for a little while longer.


"I'm got a license plate . . . guess what the name attached to it is?" Greg asked.

"Glen Hamilton," Warrick and I said simultaneously. That name had been turning up frequently . . . records from an army wholesale store . . . records from the apartment building adjacent to Sara's apartment building. The background check wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He was a computer technician at Bally's . . . he was the man that made sure that they computer slots and poker kept working. As a teenager, he was arrested for peeping into the window of a neighbor girl. He fit the profile. I had a feeling about him . . . he was the one. He was quiet, withdrawn, introspective . . . obsessive.

"Alex, are you coming?" Brass asked as he waited in the doorway. I damn well wanted to be there, "Nick, I want your gun. Grissom and Brown, yours too. None of you will be afforded the opportunity to shoot."

"I'm ready," I replied. The butterflies in my stomach turned into a turbulent mess. I followed Brass . . . I could hear everyone else fall into line behind me.

A brigade of police cars and SWAT vehicles made their way into Henderson. I sat there nervously. I told Brass the bulletproof vests weren't necessary . . . Glen probably wouldn't do anything stupid. He forced me into one any ways. I watched Nick in the backseat. He was fidgeting horribly.

We pulled up to a small ranch house. It was well kept . . . looked just like new.

"Let's go," Brass said . . . I pulled myself out of the car . . . Nick following close behind me.

I watched the SWAT team rush the house. I watched them breakdown the door. They all backed out quickly. One of the men said that Glen had a gun to Sara's head. I said I would go. I was the closest thing to a negotiator that they had right now. I walk into the house was unnerving. I was prepared to give Glen anything to fulfill my promise to Nick. I didn't come this far to lose. He pointed the gun between me and Sara. I could see the fear in her eyes . . . I'm sure my expression didn't differ much from hers.

"Glen, you don't want to do this," I said . . . my voice was audibly shaking. I walked closer to him . . . until he told me to stop, "Glen, you love Sara. I know you love Sara."

"I love her. She loves me too," Glen said frantically . . . trying to think of his next move.

"Sara loves you too, right?" I said . . . Sara frantically nodded her head unable to get the words out of her mouth.

"Glen, let Sara go. You don't want to hurt her," I said inching closer . . . holding my hand out for the gun. I wanted the damn gun in my hand right now.

"I don't want to hurt her," Glen said . . . his eyes filling with tears, "I don't want to go to jail."

"Glen, let Sara go. I'll do whatever I can to make it better," I said . . . I rested my hand on Glen's arm . . . the arm he had around Sara's neck. I could hear Nick . . . trying to get to her. I knew he was in the doorway watching . . . probably being held back by at least two members of the SWAT team.

"Glen, let Sara go . . . Let me trade places with her. You don't want to hurt the woman you love, right?" I asked him. I watched his grip on Sara loosen . . . he pushed her away and quickly put the gun to my temple . . . wrapped his arm around tightly around my throat, "Nick, take her away from here."

I screamed in a voice that didn't sound like it was mine. I felt nauseated. I wasn't sure how the hell I could talk myself out of this one. But I knew that I brought Sara home.


Sara ran into my arms . . . trying to pull me down the hallway . . . out of the house . . . away from Glen. My eyes locked in on Alex. She was frozen in his arms. She had traded her life for that of Sara's. She screamed at us to run. She knew that she was going to be murdered. I let Sara pull me out of the room. We ran outside . . . Sara collapsed on the ground. I took her into my arms . . . Grissom and Warrick tried to pull us farther away from the house. They wanted us as far from danger as possible.

"He has Alex," I said to Brass . . . he yelled at the SWAT team to reassemble . . . his negotiator was in trouble.

I threw my body over Sara when I heard the shots. Three shots . . . probably two into Alex and one into Glen's head. I felt sick. I felt responsible. Brass and I ran back into the house. Grissom yelled at me not to go.

Alex stood in the room . . . the gun still in her hands . . . she was shaking . . . the tears were running down her face. Glen was slumped on the ground. She was trembling so violently that the gun dropped to the floor . . . she collapsed. Glen wasn't moving . . . the hole in his chest was gaping . . . the blood spewed onto the ground.

"I shot him," Alex said, "I've never shot anyone before."

"Nick, get her the hell out of here," Brass said as he went to the body.

Alex let me guide her out of the house. She was sobbing . . . still shaking. Sara hugged her . . . Sara was crying. Sara was thanking her . . . Sara asked if Glen was dead. Alex nodded. Warrick took Alex into his arms . . . he held her as she cried. Her and Sara had both come so close to dying today.

"Thank you for finding me," Sara whispered as she hugged me . . . she begged me not to let her go.

I all I could do is tell her that I loved her . . . that I needed her. I was ready to take her home.


"I'm going back to LA. It's safer there," Alex said with a laugh. It had been four days since I went home with Nick. Alex had stayed with us . . . it was the least I could do to repay her for saving my life.

I asked her to tell me the story of the last few days. She told me about how much everyone needed me to come home . . . she did everything that she could to bring me home. She told me about how she met Nick a few years ago. Alex told me how lucky I was.

I told her that I knew I was lucky. I was luckier than anyone else on earth. Lucky that I had only been abducted . . . lucky that Glen wasn't ready to harm a hair on my head. He didn't rape me . . . he didn't beat me . . . he didn't kill me. He just took care of me.

Brass echoed that remark. They search of the house was gruesome. The walls of Glen's office were plastered with news articles mentioning my name. There were hundreds of photographs of me.

"You should come to visit some time," I said as I watched Alex sign a few papers that Grissom had given her . . . the ones that said she wouldn't sue the department if she were to incur bodily harm while working. Grissom said that it was a technicality. He asked Alex to stay. Alex said that she wasn't crazy. Grissom asked if he could call her about future cases. Alex said that he could do that once the department got a fulltime negotiator.

"Next time I visit I want it to be purely for pleasure," Alex replied smiling.

"Allie, thank you," Nick said as we walked her outside to where a cab was waiting for her.

"Anytime. Good luck . . . I expect an invitation to the wedding," Alex said as she handed her luggage to the cabbie.

"Allie, take care of yourself," I yelled as she got into the cab . . . she waved. The cab sped off.

"Sara, it's over. Let's go home . . . it's all over," Nick whispered in my ear . . . he kissed my neck. It felt good to be home . . . Nick felt like home.


I'll always be in debt to Alex . . . our whole department will be. I watched her cab pull away. I had thanked her . . . offered her a job. She said no way . . . it was time for her to go home.

Catherine said that I should take a vacation. I needed some time for my wounds to heal. I began to question the evidence . . . whether I was seeing it correctly. I was so inept when it came to people . . . what if the evidence was really in the people. What if things were as Alex said it was . . . the crime is about the people and how they tie to the evidence . . . people and evidence worked together.

Catherine said that I needed to learn from this. Moreover, I needed to let go of her. I needed to be happy that she was happy. That was easier said than done. Sara had run to Nick . . . she only ran to me when Nick went to see if Alex was dead. Sara told Nick to go . . . he did everything right. I was jealous.

Catherine said to be thankful that Sara was okay . . . that Alex was okay. Catherine told me to go find peace in myself . . . to stop clinging to a woman that I had pushed away. Catherine said that it would take time . . . it would hurt, but she promised to be there for me. Catherine booked a cruise to Belize for us . . . Eddie would take care of Lindsey. Catherine said the bugs were bigger below the equator. I accepted.

FIN