Here's the fifth chapter. Thanks to my beta readers Anne and Ash, they deserve as much credit as I do. Reviews and comments are always appreciated.
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Grissom and Sara were on the way to the bank after their interview with Sam Braun.
"Moriarty must have a death wish," Sara said. "I mean, Sam Braun is one of the most powerful men in Vegas. If Braun finds him before we do, he'll end up on one of Doc Robbins's tables."
"He's not looking at it the same way we are, Sara. For him, it establishes his notoriety. It takes serious guts to steal from Sam Braun. Once it gets out, it'll just make the story that more exciting to the media. 'Master Criminal Steals From Casino Magnate.' He's drooling over that headline," Grissom said.
Just then, his cell phone rang. Sara kept her eyes on the road as Grissom talked to whoever was on the other end. She noticed that he had a tone of deference to the other party; it must be either Covallo or Sheriff Atwater, she thought.
Grissom hung up as the Denali stopped at a traffic light. "That was the sheriff," he said. "Local TV stations all got calls tipping them off to Moriarty. This is officially a media case now."
Sara winced. A 'media case' was a case that played out in the media as much as it did inside the lab. "Reporters?"
"Sheriff is keeping them away from us for now. Besides, you know the drill."
"Yeah. We do not comment on on-going investigations."
"Exactly," Grissom said as their blue SUV arrived at the bank. Just behind them, two Denalis pulled up and the occupants – Nick, Catherine, and Warrick – all got out, field kits in hand. The five CSIs entered the bank, where they were welcomed by Brass.
"Just talked to the manager. He saw nothing suspicious about the transaction or the guy," he said.
"Does he have a description?" Grissom asked.
"Yeah." Brass read from his notes: "Plain tall white guy. The only thing the manager noticed was his cheap suit."
Grissom nodded. "Moriarty just made his first mistake. Half of the battle is finding out where to look for evidence; now we know where to look."
"Alright, what do we do?" Sara asked.
"We tear this place apart until we find every bit of evidence inside." Grissom turned to the other members of his team, handing them their assignments.
Nick and Warrick went into a back room to examine the video. Everyone else went into the manager's office. The CSIs went inside, while Brass and the manager continued to talk outside. It was a modest affair size-wise, but surprisingly comfortable. Dark curtains shielded the rooms from any prying eyes outside.
Catherine was the last one to enter the room, and as she did she tripped because of a small crack in the floor. She managed not to fall flat on the floor, though.
"You okay, Cath?" asked Sara.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, thanks."
Sara then realized something. If Catherine tripped on the floor, then Moriarty might have done the same thing.
She left the room and joined Brass and the bank manager. "Excuse me, hi, I'm Sara Sidle, I'm from the crime lab," she said. "Did he trip as he entered your office?"
"That damned crack in the floor? Yeah, the guy tripped on it. Reached out for the curtains so he wouldn't fall in fact. I've been trying to have it fixed since forever, but no one's done anything."
"Thanks," Sara said to the manager. As she went back to the room, Grissom looked up at her. What was that about, Sara?
"Our suspect tripped when he entered the room," Sara said. "He reached over for the curtains to steady himself."
"Abrasion plus skin equals epithelials," said Catherine.
"Our suspect left us his DNA."
"Catherine, find Warrick. Have him help you take down these drapes and test them for epithelials," Grissom ordered.
Catherine nodded and left the room. Sara watched her leave the room, then turned toward Grissom. "What are you thinking?"
"What?"
"I said, what are you thinking?"
"He's giving up evidence too quickly," Grissom said while shaking his head. "It doesn't fit his previous behavior."
"You said it yourself, Grissom. He wants media attention and with this crime, he definitely has it."
"His ability to conceal his tracks suggests a knowledge of forensics beyond that of most suspects. Yet, he leaves us his prints, his DNA, and surveillance footage, all of which we could use to catch him. Why?"
"Calculated risk, maybe? AFIS and CODIS are only useful if he's already in the system."
"So if he's not in the system, all the evidence we've gathered will be -"
"Useless. Just like every other bit of evidence so far."
Grissom could only shake his head – both in admiration and frustration. "His mistake wasn't much of a mistake after all."
---
The entire team gathered in the break room to discuss their findings. Warrick led off.
"After helping Catherine with the drapes, I handed in the papers to QD. They're definitely fakes, paper doesn't match the originals the Rampart gave us. They are very good fakes, though. No way the manager could have known they were bad."
"So we can add forgery to his list of talents," Catherine said.
"Yep," Warrick replied.
"Inside job, perhaps? Suspect must have had access to the real stuff to gin up fakes this good," Nick said.
Grissom nodded. "Warrick, go back to the Rampart and see who has access to similar documents."
"What about fingerprints on the paper?" Sara asked.
"Plenty, but not in the database. We don't have the prints from bank employees, though," Warrick answered.
"Catherine, Brass said he'll continue the interviews this morning before the bank opens. Take Nick and print everyone who works there," Grissom said.
"Got it," the blonde said.
"Nick?"
"The video confirms the witness accounts. Guy seems quite confident of what he's doing, like he's done this a hundred times before."
"He may well have. Physical description?"
"Apparent height is six feet, five inches, using the counters for scale. Archie was able to zoom in on his shoes and measure the size. Confirms he wears size elevens," Nick said as he passed out photos to the rest of the group.
"Wait. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something not right about this pair," Catherine said.
"I was about to get to that. Those aren't ordinary loafers. They're elevator shoes. We've identified the specific type. PD is checking with local stores to get a list of buyers."
"Elevator shoes can raise a person's height by two to three inches," Grissom said. "Which means our suspect is only about... six-two? Six-three?"
"Well, I'm six-two, so that means the suspect is about my height," Warrick said.
"Helps limit our suspect list," said Grissom. "Catherine?"
"The curtains did test positive for epithelials. Greg says they're only from one donor, but I'm still waiting for a hit from the database."
"Alright. Sara?"
"We printed the manager's office. Plenty of prints, but most of them appear to belong to the manager. Couple of partials and unknowns, but our suspect's prints should be among those we collected. We'll need the employee's prints, though," she said, gesturing to Catherine.
At that moment, Greg came into the break room. "I rushed Catherine's DNA sample and the results are in. CODIS kicked out a result, but no details – says to contact the Boston crime lab for details."
"That's great, we finally have a good lead to follow," Sara said.
"No name, Greg?" asked Grissom.
"Nope. Just a number that means something to the Boston lab, I suppose."
"Alright. Warrick, Rampart. Nick, Catherine, PD. Sara and I will follow the Boston lead. We're done here."
With that, the other CSIs and Greg left the break room, leaving Grissom and Sara alone.
"DNA file, with no details? I've never heard of something like that, Grissom."
"I came across something similar a few months ago. Turned out it was a cold rape case in Los Angeles."
"I don't get it – if he has raped before, why would he take the chance of leaving some of his DNA behind?"
"The cold case back in Los Angeles was before crime labs started adding to the database regularly. It's only now that the crime labs in bigger cities have been able to put older cases into CODIS."
"I'm a CSI, and I didn't know that."
"It's not all that well-publicized. The guy who does it for us is on day shift. It could explain why our suspect was confident enough to leave behind his DNA in the bank."
"Because he thinks he's not in the system."
"But he is, and he just made another mistake."
The ringing of Grissom's phone interrupted their conversation. Sara noticed Grissom seemed annoyed when he saw who was calling, and it got worse when he actually took the call.
"What? I'm working a case here, but I guess you've forgotten what that means. Fine, I'll be there." Grissom almost spat out the last sentence.
Sara looked at him, puzzled. He answered the unspoken question. "That was Ecklie. Urgent meeting of supervisors." He let out a sigh of frustration. "I have to go. Can you follow up on the Boston lead for me?"
"Sure. I'll wait for you in your office, I suppose."
"Thanks."
---
Grissom walked back to his office quite pissed, but he always did after a meeting.
Why in the world is it necessary to sit down and talk about administrative matters for two hours? I'm paid to solve crimes, not listen to some blowhard from Personnel blather about stress levels in the crime lab. Like they'd know something about that.
He opened the door, expecting to see Sara inside. However, she was nowhere to be found.
That surprised Grissom, but it grew when he noticed there was no note or anything else from her relaying her findings. He could tell that she had been inside: the papers on his desk looked disturbed, and a folder with the numbers of various crime labs was on top of it. Grissom normally kept it in one of the drawers.
He left his office, looking for Sara in the various labs. Grissom's last stop was the locker room, where he found her sitting in front of her locker. She was bent down, her head resting on her clasped hands.
The footsteps echoed in the room as Grissom stepped inside, taking a seat beside Sara. She heard him, but she didn't look up.
"Sara?" he said gently.
Her gaze went to his face slowly. She was too strong a woman to cry then and there in the lab, but Grissom could see she how she felt. Her brown eyes were full of pain and hurt, something he had never seen in the years he had known her.
Grissom didn't know what to do. He wanted to reach out to her and make the pain go away, but he knew he couldn't. How can I make the pain go away if I don't know what's causing it?
Sara broke the silence that had seemingly cast a spell over both of them. "Could we, uhm, take this somewhere more... private?"
"Yeah." Grissom slowly nodded.
Grissom led her back to his office, his hand occasionally wandering to the small of her back, as if to give her support. He closed the door behind him as she took one of the seats in his office.
Sara didn't know if she could, or should say anything. This had been a wound that she thought had healed, but Fate had chosen to tear away the scab and expose it to the elements once again.
She found the strength to tell her – and Melissa's – story. Grissom listened carefully, not quite sure what to make of what Sara was telling her now.
"It all began ten years ago..."
---
The cough drop rolled around Sara's tongue as she walked down the road.
It had been her roommate's idea. Melissa and Sara had met during their freshman year and despite being polar opposites, had hit it off well. They had become best friends and they still shared an apartment in Boston, one year after both had graduated. Sara had continued on to grad school, while Melissa was now working for a local book publisher.
Melissa had always been a party animal, and she even managed to drag Sara along every now and then. Last night had been one of those times; in the intervening dancing, flirting, and drinking, the two had somehow been separated. Sara had been ended up too drunk to really go home and ended up crashing for the night at the apartment of another friend who lived nearby.
That figures, Sara thought. Remind me never to try to out drink Melissa ever. Again. She could drink an entire fraternity under the table.
As Sara came up to her apartment building, she was surprised to see the build manager and a police detective waiting at the entrance. She called out to the building manager. "Hey, Rob, what's going on?"
The manager and detective approached Sara. Rob, the manager, spoke first. "Sara, this is Detective O'Brien from the police."
"Wait, have I done something wrong, I mean, I paid those outstanding tickets last week," Sara said.
"No, no, it's not about you, Ms. Sidle," the officer said.
"Sar, it's, it's... something's happened to Melissa," Rob said.
"I don't get it. We were out partying last night, how could anything happen to her?"
"Were you together last night?" the detective asked.
"We were," Sara said. "I lost track of her, so I don't know where she is now." Sara was befuddled. "Could someone please tell me what this is all about? Is Melissa okay?"
"Ms. Sidle," O'Brien began, "your roommate was attacked and raped last night. She managed to make it here, where your manager called us in. She's in the hospital right now."
Shocked, Sara fell down onto a nearby couch. She was unable to comprehend just what was going on right now. Uncharacteristically, she cried, unaware of the voices around her.
---
Sara was fighting the tears that wanted to fall from her eyes as she looked up at Grissom. "They never caught who did it. Melissa was no good as a witness. They had... nothing to go on. It became just another unsolved rape case."
Grissom offered a box of tissues to Sara, who accepted. Wiping the corners of her eyes, she went on. "The only thing they recovered was the semen, but with no leads, it wasn't a priority. They just stored it, until they could find some reason to reopen the case."
"So he got away. Whoever he was, he was good. The police could do nothing," Sara said as she shook her head. "Melissa... she was never the same afterwards. A week after she was raped... she killed herself."
"I can still remember every detail like it was yesterday. I come home, and the apartment was quiet. Too quiet. I walk into her room and find her there, out on the bed, blood flowing from her wrists. I called 911, but... they were too late." A tear fell down her cheek.
Sara looked into Grissom's eyes. "She died in my arms, Grissom. Her last words were, 'I'm sorry. I didn't want things to end this way.'"
She took a breath in before continuing. "The Boston crime lab was recently able to add the DNA from the semen into their database. The sample Nick recovered from the bank was a perfect match to Melissa's rapist."
There was another pause. "You know what scares me, Grissom? It could have been me that night. I... I still don't know why I was spared and Melissa wasn't. Sometimes, I still wake up in the middle of my sleep, in a cold sweat, shouting out her name."
Grissom winced at the sight before him. He thought he knew Sara well, but he had absolutely no idea that something like that had happened to Sara.
Or maybe not. You've always known how hard some cases hit Sara. You always thought it was just her being emotional. You thought that there was nothing more behind it. How wrong you were.
How many times did you criticize her for being too emotional, for becoming attached to the victim? How could she not, when she herself was a victim?
"Sara... I'm, I'm sorry," Grissom said.
"It's not your fault, Grissom. I... I didn't tell anyone about this. Ever. It just... hurt too much. I thought it could just go away." She shook her head. "Looks like it didn't, did it?"
He reached out for her hands. "We'll do everything we can to catch him, Sara. You know we will."
"I know, it's just that... when it matters to one of us, we can't always nail them." The ghosts of Eddie Willows were still fresh in Sara's mind.
"Let's go," Grissom gently.
"Where? Shouldn't we be working on the case?"
He shook his head. "We can't make the evidence go any faster. And you can't process if your mind isn't focused on the case. Sara, you can't ignore what happened and bury yourself in your work."
"What about you, Grissom? You bury yourself in the job all the time. You're the only one who has more vacation time left than me. What secrets lurk in your past?"
Grissom sighed quietly. Sara knew him all to well, it seemed. "Call it a case of do as I say, don't do as I do."
Sara smiled for the first time since her confession, as it was, had began. "Okay."
"Shall we?" Grissom motioned towards the door.
"Where are we going?"
"Anywhere you're comfortable, Sara. We'll deal with this. Together."
"Okay." Sara walked towards the door that led out of the office. Behind her, Grissom picked up his briefcase and prepared to close down his office for the day.
As he came up behind her, Sara looked towards Grissom. "Let's," she said.
The sound of the door closing echoed in the empty room.
---
To be continued...