a/n: some of you can tell there are more chapters posted, but can't get to them. If so, go to the url, and type in the correct chapter number at the end of the URL. It's the second to last character, followed by a /. Good luck!

Accusations

She left him tied up in the room to go get some food and essentials. It frustrated Nick to no end, being helpless and unable to do anything. She'd gagged him again, and Nick found that cheap headboard held up better than he wanted it to.

He sighed into the gag. He'd already tried yelling, but the gag muffled it. So he just waited now.

When Amy returned at dusk, she had several bags with her. She wore a pleased smile, like a happy housewife instead of murderer and kidnapper.

"I've got some good food," she said. "You must be starving." She scurried around the room, unpacking the plastic bags. Nick watched her, and took note of what she bought.

Some cereal, fruit, pudding, juice . . . hair dye, which Nick noticed with a grimace, and also some clothes. She folded the clothes, jeans and a few shirts, which she set aside. She reached into another bag, revealing a pack of boxers, a couple of t-shirts and a pair of jeans.

"What do you think?" she asked, holding up a light blue t-shirt. "Oh, sorry." She dropped the shirt and went for his gag.

Nick just stared between her and the shirt.

"Um, Mrs. Henler," he started, "thanks for the clothes and all, but how long do you expect this to go on?"

She just blinked at him until it sunk in what he was asking. A sour expression clouded her delicate features. She ran a hand through her dark hair, pushing back her long bangs.

"I don't know," she said, her eyes looking off into her own thoughts. "I hadn't planned this."

"I know," Nick said. "But this has to end sooner or later."

"Why?" she shot back, a little upset by his reasoning. "Why does this have to end?"

Nick balked at that. "You can't hide for the rest of your life. And I can't live tied to a bed for the rest of my life either."

She pursed her lips together as she looked over him. "I'll untie you, if you promise not to leave."

Nick swallowed eagerly. Sure, that'll work. He nodded.

"I promise," he said. She stared at him, studying him, judging him. Nick tried not to squirm.

"Okay." She leaned over him, a little more than necessary. Nick quickly averted his eyes to the side. As soon as his hands were free, Nick almost leapt into action. He had to remind himself that his feet were tied.

Amy stepped away and let Nick untie his feet. She hadn't gone for the gun yet, but it was within her reach. She watched him carefully.

Nick rubbed his wrists and stretched his body. Being in that position wasn't comfortable, especially for several hours. He let out a deep breath, and looked to Amy Henler. She seemed too tense. Not yet, Nick told himself. He'd have to wait.

"Thank you," Nick said. It brought a faint smile to Amy's lips.

"You're welcome." She brushed aside her hair from her face. "How long have you been a cop?" It was a casual question, even though she still kept close to the gun.

"I'm not really a cop," Nick answered, trying to keep his eyes off the gun. "I'm a crime scene investigator. It's kind of the scientific side of police work."

"Really?" She seemed genuinely surprised. "You just seem more . . . human than that."

Nick smiled. "Than a scientist or a cop?"

She smiled back. "Both." Her eyes lingered on his before Nick looked away. "So where are you from?"

As much as the polite conversation was calming, Nick was still anxious. He put on a neutral face and said: "Texas."

"That explains your accent," Amy said. Nick offered a tight smile. "Is your family still there?"

Nick nodded.

"Are you the only one in Vegas?" she asked next. Again, he just nodded. "You must get lonely." She flashed him a sympathetic smile before turning back to her purchases. She grabbed the hair dye and moved in front of a mirror. Nick's eyes honed in on the gun.

She's far enough away.

"What do you think? Is this the right color for me?" she asked, not watching him. Nick sprung from the bed and grabbed the gun. Mrs. Henler turned around with a gasp. Nick held the gun up.

"Just stay calm," he said. He didn't feel very calm, but he figured it didn't hurt to say.

"You lied." It came out as a whisper. Nick huffed at that.

"Sorry," he said, but he didn't mean it. Nick sat back on the bed, the gun unsteadily aimed at her. With his other hand, he picked up the phone and dialed 911. An operator picked up.

"Yes," Nick eagerly said into the phone. "My name is Nick Stokes. I need the police at the—" He searched for the motel name and address. Crap, he thought. He looked away from Amy to find the address. "—the motel at—"

Suddenly Amy screamed. Nick almost dropped the gun. She lunged at him, tackling him in the chest and nailing him against the headboard. He lost his grip on the gun and the phone as he tried to ward her off.

Amy just screamed again and clawed at Nick. "I trusted you!" She pounded his chest, flailing her arms over him.

Nick caught her by the wrists and pushed her back. His pulse raced at the sudden rage. Find the gun, quickly! His eyes swept over the room, but Amy came at him again. She grabbed the lamp on the nightstand, holding it like a club. Nick tried to stop her, but she came at him fast. They both fell back on the bed. She raised the lamp and slammed it down. Nick warded off the blow with his arms, but the impact still killed.

He pushed her again, throwing her to the side. His breathing was ragged as he fought to control the pain in his forearms. Nick groaned, but his eyes were wide, fearing another attack.

She was sobbing now, babbling too.

"How could you . . ." Nick heard. She sat in a heap on the floor, with tears streaming down her face. Nick sighed and winced as he took a second to catch his breath.

This isn't over. Nick pushed himself up, suppressing a pained groan at the pressure on his arms. He searched for the gun, looking under the bed.

He heard a click by Amy. Nick looked up.

She had the gun, aimed at him. He froze, and they just sat there in an uneven standoff.

Suddenly someone banged on the door.

"Police! Open up!"

Nick looked to the door with hope. He glanced back at Amy, unsure of what she'd do. Before he knew what was happening, she ran to the door. She sobbed as she opened it.

"Oh thank you!" she said, throwing her arms around one of the officers. "He gets like this when he doesn't have his pills!"

WHAT!!

"Hang on a second!" Nick shouted. "No, please! She's—" The two officers started into the room.

"Sir, we need you to stay calm, all right?" Nick noticed the officer rested his hand on his gun. This isn't happening.

"No, she tried to—"

"It was awful!" Amy interrupted, her voice high and shrill with the damsel in distress tone. "This has only happened once before, please! He's not a bad man!"
"I know I'm not!" Nick yelled. The officer pushed Nick back with one hand until he felt the wall behind him.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to remain calm, or we'll need to discuss this elsewhere," the officer said.

"Fine by me!" Nick said, exasperated. "Get me away from her!" The other officer shot his partner a look. Nick thought he might have gotten through.

But both the officers faced him, their hands unsnapping the closure securing their guns.

"He only hit me once," Amy said, still in tears. "Please, he doesn't normally act like this! I just needed to calm him down!"

"It's okay, ma'am," the officers said in unison. They didn't bother to look at her—instead they kept their eyes trained on Nick.

They think it's me. He rolled his eyes. Just tell them who you are! Nick opened his mouth, but froze.

Amy had the gun still. How she'd hidden it from the officers, Nick didn't know, but now she had it aimed at the back of one of the officer's heads. She shot Nick a look, daring him to make this worse.

"Did you hurt her, sir?" one of them asked. The man's face was hard, on edge like he wanted a reason to pummel him.

"Did you hit her?" the other one demanded. Nick looked past him to see Amy glare at him. Nick wanted to cry. She'll shoot them both before they know what happened. She moved her finger over the trigger. Nick knew he had to do it.

"I—I didn't mean to," Nick stuttered. Tears prickled his eyes. I can't . . . I can't just let this happen. He felt a lump rise in his throat. I just want out of this.

The officers' faces hardened even more, if possible. They glared at him, and one started to remove his handcuffs. Amy flinched.

Don't shoot them, he pleaded as if Amy would listen to him. From behind the officers, she started to lower the gun.

"He really didn't mean it," Amy cried behind them. "Thanks for coming, but please—we're okay now." The gun was out of Nick's view, and the officers didn't see it as they turned to her.

"Ma'am, are you sure?" one asked. "We can take him away, let him calm down at the precinct."

Nick wanted to pipe up in support of that, but he knew he couldn't. A tear fell down his face, and he chastised himself for it.

"I'm sure," Amy said. "Thank you."

The officers' radios squawked. Nick recognized the call—a breaking and entering. They looked to each other and then back at Nick and Mrs. Henler.

"All right," one said.

"Thank you," Amy said a final time. She quickly showed them out, but not before the officers shot Nick looks of death.

Amy locked the door after them. Nick sank to the floor, another tear falling as he did. He clutched his right forearm, which hurt more than the other one. A sob escaped his mouth, but Nick tried to choke it back.

Amy glared at him, and stalked towards him slowly. The gun dangled from her hand. Nick let out a sob-filled sigh. His body tensed as she neared him. She may just kill you now.

She didn't say a word. Nick didn't either. He didn't want to say the wrong thing. And he didn't trust his voice not to shake.

She grabbed something from one of the bags she'd brought in. It clinked and Nick's heart sank when he saw it. It was a pair of handcuffs. Where one buys a pair, he didn't know. But Amy Henler knelt in front of him, and held the gun and the cuffs up to his face. Her eyes penetrated into his, and Nick slowly nodded.

He took the cuffs and secured them around his wrists.

Warrick watched the news in the breakroom. This was the second broadcast about Nick. The tip line had come up empty so far, but he still hoped something would turn up. Everyone in Vegas who cared to know would have heard about the missing CSI and the suspected murderer who kidnapped him.

"The story's just hit California news stations," Sara said behind him. "It should broadcast on all the morning news programs."

Warrick nodded. The anchor woman wrapped up the story on Nick and Amy Henler. He sighed.

"Now we just wait," he said. Sara nodded.

"I hate waiting."

"You're not going to believe this," Brass said. Grissom hated it when he began a conversation this way. "LAPD just called. Two of their officers saw Nick and Mrs. Henler."

"Where!" Grissom was ready to charge out the door and track them down. Brass held up a hand.

"Hang on. They described the situation as a 'domestic disturbance.' With her as the victim. No charges were filed, and they left," Brass said. Gil's jaw dropped.

"Domestic disturbance? Where?"

"A motel in LA," he answered. Gil opened his mouth for a follow-up. "No, they're not there anymore. They've disappeared."

Grissom's mouth curled in a disgusted snarl. "I'm going out there."

Brass nodded. "We all are."

Catherine and Sara took on the officers who saw Nick and Amy Henler. First off, they showed the officers photos.

"Was this the man?" Sara pressed. Both officers nodded.

"Yeah." They moved to the next photo. "And that's the woman," one of them said.

"You didn't get their names, or check their records?" Catherine asked skeptically. The two officers looked to each other and then back at the women.

"We got another call. Besides, do you know how many domestic disturbances we get every night?" one of them said. Sara glared at him.

"It didn't dawn on you that there might have been more to it?"

They shrugged. "She didn't want to press charges. It happens all the time," one said. "Besides, she was crying and begging us not to arrest him. He even admitted hurting her."

Catherine and Sara shared a look. It didn't make sense. Why wouldn't Nick tell the police who he was? Or at least get them to check out his story?

"Did you see any evidence of violence?" Catherine asked. The two officers looked to each other, and back at their interrogators.

"Not really," one of them said. "But she was crying, and the guy—"

"CSI Stokes," Sara filled in with frustration.

"—Stokes seemed like he could have roughed her up. He was blubbering too, by the time we left, saying how he didn't mean it."

Sara fought the urge to smack the two guys over the head.

"I don't know why he said that," Sara said very slowly, trying to let the words sink into the officers' small brains, "but you just let a murderer get away with a CSI of the Las Vegas PD."

Gil stood still in the room. It felt . . . eerie. He could almost feel fear.

Brass stood behind him, giving his friend time to absorb the details. Warrick stood behind as well, just waiting.

There was a lamp on the ground. The shade was rumpled and the metal a bit bent. Gil pointed at it, and Warrick photographed and gathered it.

The garbage cans were sparsely used, but Grissom found a hair dye box. He also found strips of the bed sheets.

She tied him up again.

Gil sighed.

Something had happened here, but he didn't know what. A thousand scenarios came to mind, but he didn't like any of their outcomes. Not with the details the LAPD gave of the 'domestic disturbance.'

Why would Nick go along with it? Why play it as a domestic disturbance? If the cops were there, they could have helped him.

But they didn't. They assumed she was the victim. And for some reason, Nick played along.

He didn't like this. Any of it. And now, Nick was still missing and at the hands of Amy Henler.

The only consolation he felt was that, as of last night, Nick was still alive and well. He hoped last night's events didn't change that today.

a/n: Kristen999 mentioned that Nick wasn't your standard cop in Dallas, so I was wrong on that. It doesn't matter for this story much, but my apologies anyway. Also, to me the last name for Amy is 'Henler,' but I've seen 'Hendler' as well. It sounds like Henler to me, so I'll stick with it. Hope you can stand that!