Once evidence was collected and the CSI's were ready to return to the lab, Catherine, as Grissom promised, still wanted to go to Las Vegas Medical to check up on Marquita Dali.

"You sure you want to go?" Grissom frowned.

"I'd like to, yeah," Catherine said as Grissom followed her to the Tahoe. "You hitching a ride with Nick?"

"Might as well." Grissom tossed Catherine the keys. "Catherine, just remember—don't get involved. Personally."

"I won't," Catherine assured. "She collapsed! In my arms, no less. I just want to see if the poor girl's alright. You don't need to remind me not to get involved."

"I just feel better saying it."

Before Catherine hopped into the Tahoe, she paused and the number Marquita had mumbled before she was carted away popped into her head. KL5-8193. Catherine wanted to call…her hand went to her cellphone and then looked at her watch. It was a quarter to seven in the morning. She turned to Grissom. "Marquita Dali gave me a phone number before she went to the hospital. Should I call it?"

"Who's number is it?"

"Don't know. All she said was the number. I feel like it's my duty to dial it. But I don't know who will answer."

"A part of this job is not knowing," Grissom recited. "The number you dial could lead us to Marquita's—and Pancha's, hopefully—next of kin. It will save a lot of time."

Catherine took her cellphone from her belt and punched in the numbers Marquita had given her. She waited as it rang four times before a tired woman's voice came on the line. "Hello?"

"Hello. This is Catherine Willows with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. With whom am I speaking?" Catherine gave Grissom a side glance.

"Why do you want to know? How the hell did you get this number? Do you know what time it is?" The voice had a Mexican accent.

"I'll explain once I get your name."

"Ines Dali. Why?"

"Ms. Dali, I got your number from your…well, I suppose she would be your daughter…Marquita Dali?"

"Wait a sec. Crime Lab? Marquita? What did la pequeña diabla do now? Do I need to come down there and discipline her? Because I'm in bed with a back injury—I'll have to send over my sister Pancha if that's okay—"

"No, no. That won't be necessary," Catherine said quickly. Grissom was giving her quizzical stares. Catherine pursed her lips, not knowing what to say next. But she remembered her promise to Grissom about not getting involved and came right out and said it. "Your sister Pancha and your daughter Marquita were involved in a robbery early this morning, around four AM."

"¡Ay, Dios mio!" Ines Dali gasped. "Ay, I never should have made Pancha go out so late! I could have gone without the Tylenol…"

"Calm down, Ms. Dali," Catherine soothed.

"Is she okay? Is Marquita okay? Are they okay?"

"Can you get to Las Vegas Medical at all?"

"I can probably have my son drive me. I wasn't kidding about my back injury, you know," Ines replied hurriedly.

"I understand. Just please, any way you can, I'd like to see you at Las Vegas Medical," Catherine said. "It's rather urgent."

"Sí. Just tell me, Ms. Willows," Ines said breathlessly. "Is my family okay?"

Catherine took a deep breath, "I'll explain everything once we meet at the hospital. My supervisor and I will be waiting at the main entrance."

Ines agreed and the two women hung up.

Grissom crossed his arms and stroked his beard with one hand like a wise professor. "'My supervisor and I'? Am I accompanying you on this excursion, Catherine?"

Catherine recoiled as he pronounced her name: Cath-er-ine, each syllable stressing a point, a tone of voice reserved for reprimanding. "Well…"

"Look, it's no problem, but I wish you would tell me beforehand."

"I can't meet this woman alone," Catherine reasoned, tapping her cellphone in her palm, "that's all. I can't tell her that her sister was shot six times for no reason, that her daughter was skewered through the hand by an assailant. I'm sorry, Gil, I know that's really out of character for me, but I can't."

"I understand," Grissom said, relaxing her worries. "It's because of Marquita, right?"

"I'll drive," Catherine sighed.

"Of course."

Catherine and Grissom were waiting at Las Vegas Medical for nearly an hour, with Catherine pacing by the entrance, hands clasped behind her back before a beat up red Jeep Cherokee in need of a serious wash pulled up in front. A young man with shiny black eyes and blue-black hair was driving. His skin was caramel and his build was thin and muscular but not toned. He got out of the Jeep and entered the hospital, then approached them.

"Are you either of you Catherine Willows?" the young man inquired, his voice dripping with disdain.

It was on the tip of Grissom's tongue to say, "That's me", just to rile the kid up, but Catherine was quicker.

"Yes, I am," Catherine said. "You are?"

"The chauffer," the young man said sarcastically. "Come on. Ines is waiting for you."

Grissom and Catherine shared a private Look and Grissom shrugged. Catherine followed the young man out to the Jeep. She watched as he went to the hatch and pull out a wheelchair. Then he opened the backseat and helped a thin, pretty woman with an ashen face into it. Catherine saw Marquita and the young man in the woman's features—same nose, eye, hair and skin color.

"Ay…gracias, Diego," she said, settling into the chair and wincing with pain. Then she looked up, black-button eyes shining. "Catherine Willows?"

"Yes…Ines Dali?"

"Sí, and this is my son Diego."

Diego gave a curt nod.

Grissom frowned. There was something about this kid, Diego, he wasn't keen on. His sarcasm, the way he held himself, his current stance just spoke volumes that Grissom didn't like.

"Mama," Diego said firmly, putting a hand on Ines's shoulder and squeezing slightly. "I should get back home. Alejandra and Joaquim are home alone."

"Sí, I will call you when I'm done. If this involves Marquita, then this may take awhile. God knows what the hell she got into. Besame, m'hijo," Ines looked up at her son with pleading eyes. He dutifully bent down and pecked his mother quickly on the cheek. Then, as quick as he came, Diego jumped into the Jeep and peeled out of Las Vegas Medical's parking lot.

"Drive carefully, tú diablo del camino!" Ines shouted after him.

"Ms. Dali," Catherine said after Ines watched her son disappear in the Jeep, "I'd like to ask you a few questions before I give you the news on your sister and daughter. Would you come inside?"

"Yes, of course."

"Do you need help?"

"No…I'll be alright," Ines's hands dropped to her sides, put her hands on the top of the wheels and she began to push the wheelchair slowly into the hospital entrance.

"May I ask how you hurt your back?"

Ines sighed. "Dumb story, actually, Catherine Willows," she began, using both of Catherine's names. "I was helping a friend pile some boxes at Costco—that's where I work. And I went to lift this box that Marco told me 'wasn't heavy'. Well, guess what? It was heavy. I pulled a muscle."

"Ah."

"My doctor said to stay bedridden for a few days. Well, I'm a widow with four children that need me so I called Pancha and she came down to help me out until my back was better."

"That was nice of her."

"Pancha always looks out for me," Ines said as they entered the hospital. "My big sister, always taking care of me. Drops everything to help me."

"Ms. Dali," Catherine said. "I'd like you to meet my supervisor, Gil Grissom. Gil, this is Marquita Dali's mother Ines."

"Mucho gusto," Ines said as Grissom shook her hand.

"Hello," Grissom greeted. "I'm sure Catherine has already told you we'd like to ask you a few questions first, before you see your daughter."

"Of course. Go ahead," Ines sat back in her chair.

"Why would your sister and daughter be at a convenience store at nearly five in the morning?"

Ines hung her head sheepishly. "I was complaining of spasms," she said. "I begged Pancha to go out and buy some Tylenol for the pain, for we had none, because my youngest daughter had just gotten over a flu."

"You didn't have pain medication?"

"Yes, of course I did. Dr. Simone told me to take them if the pain gets bad and they were such tiny spasms, señor, and I didn't want to overdo it. I thought, a couple of mild painkillers wouldn't hurt."

"So you sent Pancha out to go get them."

"That's right. She said, 'if you really feel you need them, Ines, I'll go get them.'"

"And what about Marquita? How does she play into this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you see her go with Pancha?"

"Honestly, señor," Ines looked Grissom in the eye intently. "I didn't realize Marquita was gone until Catherine Willows called me this morning."

"You didn't?" Catherine asked.

"No. I thought she was in bed, with her sister Alejandra—that's my youngest child, she's eleven. After I hung up with Catherine Willows, Alejandra came into my room and said that Marquita was gone."

"Maybe she just snuck out with Pancha?"

"That's what I'm thinking," Ines pressed her lips together. "It's not like Marquita to leave without telling me. She's usually the good one."

"'Usually the good one'?" Grissom repeated. "Compared to what?"

"Diego, my eldest. He leaves without saying so, el apuro-fabricante, just ups and leaves, making me wait up for him to come back. I have no idea what he does, no idea where he's going. Comes back very hostile. Marquita can be bad but usually she's an angel. Sometimes she'll get into awful trouble with some of her thug friends—like the time she was arrested for vandalizing a building with that puta gamberra friend of hers, Paula Naldo—but otherwise, I never hear anything from her. Always home on time."

"So this wasn't the norm for Marquita?"

"Dios, no. Not usually."

Catherine paused a moment. "Do you know of any enemies that Pancha or Marquita would have?"

"Enemies? I know of a few kids in Marquita's school that pick on her. And I know some of her gamberra friends would turn on her like that," Ines snapped her fingers.

"Well…anyone that would want to hurt Marquita? Or Pancha, for that matter?"

"Hurt them? I don't understand. Could you please tell me why I'm here and what happened to my family?"

Grissom turned to Catherine. "You want to handle this?"

"Yeah," she nodded. Catherine knelt by Ines's wheelchair. "Ms. Dali…the robbery that your sister and your daughter were in proved fatal to two people involved."

"¿Qué, qué?" Ines's eyes widened. "Fatal? ¡Oh, dios querido, por favor, no!" She buried her face in her hands. "¡Opinión no está por favor tan! Say it's not true!"

"Marquita is alive," Catherine continued, carefully choosing as delicate words as possible. "She was…impaled through the hand with a knife, but as far as we know, she's otherwise healthy. And lucky, I might add."

"¿Y Pancha? ¿Y mi hermana?"

"Pancha, unfortunately, was not so lucky."

"Don't tell me," Ines sniffed back tears. "She was killed."

"Yes."

"My sister is dead," Ines sobbed into her hands.

"But your daughter is alive."

"Pancha…Pancha, ay, mi hermana meyor…¿Porqué usted se fue? Pancha, Pancha, Pancha…"

Grissom tapped Catherine's shoulder a few times. "Would you like me to go check on Marquita's progress?"

Catherine nodded and put a sympathetic hand on the small of Ines's back. "Give us a minute," she said.

Grissom left the two women in the lobby of the hospital and once he turned the corner, Catherine spoke softly to Ines.

"Ines…" Catherine used her first name. "Are you alright?"

"Por favor, Catherine Willows," Ines sobbed. "Digame una cosa. Tell me one thing: did my sister suffer?"

Images of Pancha Nichols's bullet-eaten body bathed in blood flashed in front of Catherine's eyes. It was horrific. It would be cruel to tell the truth. "No, Ines," Catherine lied. "She didn't. She really didn't."