Listen
Catherine had way too much coffee, even for 4 a.m., Sara thought. It had to have been eight cups already. She speed-walked into the conference room, where the other CSIs stared blindly at the limited information they had.
"I've got something," Catherine said. Instantly, the other three sat up straight in their chairs.
"Okay," Catherine began, "we've been tracking the banks and credit cards for Amy Henler. Also for Jason Henler, and anything they shared, right?"
They all nodded.
"But, Jason has another account—a company credit card that allows cash withdrawals," Catherine said, a proud smile beaming at them. "I talked to Jason. He says he didn't realize it till I asked him about it, but it's missing."
"Has it been used?" Grissom asked with bare patience. Catherine just smiled and slid a file across the table to him.
Sara and Warrick instantly flanked him, peering over the file.
"These purchases are all in the LA area," Warrick said.
"Not only that," Catherine said, "but most are within two miles of each other."
Amy was miffed. She scurried around the apartment, tidying things and making breakfast. She didn't offer any to him. She was definitely ticked about last night.
Nick followed her with his eyes. She kept glancing at him, shooting him looks as she moved. Every time her eyes met his, she would turn her head away and practically put her nose in the air.
Nick rolled his eyes. No wonder Jason Henler wanted Faye.
Amy grabbed her purse. She tucked her gun into it with a glare to Nick.
"Amy," he said.
She just ignored him and started for the door.
"Amy."
This time she stopped but didn't turn towards him.
"I'm sorry," he said. There it was, and it hung in the air a few moments before she faced him.
Her eyes lighten until even her whole face seemed brighter. Slowly a smile spread over her features.
"I'll be back in a few hours," she said by way of goodbye. Nick's heart lurched.
"Amy!"
She stopped and waited for what he had to say.
Nick stammered for the right way to say this, but it failed him. He felt his pulse race and emotion tug at his voice.
"Let me go." Amy gasped, but Nick hurried to plead his case. "Please, Amy. Whatever pain Jason caused . . . I'm not part of that." She started to turn away and ignore him, but Nick tried harder. "Please! Amy, I have to go back to my life. You can't keep me here forever."
Damn, he thought as tears moistened his eyes. He hated it when he cried. It wasn't often but he always felt like crap because of it. He swallowed hard, and just waited for Amy to say something.
She saw his tears. For a moment, she seemed sympathetic.
"Do you remember what you told me, back at my house?" she asked. Nick slowly shook his head. He'd said whatever he needed to stay alive. "You said you were a good listener."
He nodded, but didn't see where she was going with this.
"Are you really, Nick?" she asked. "Haven't you been listening?" Amy stalked towards him, and picked up a cloth from the dinky coffee table. She stared at him, pressuring him for an answer.
"Yes," Nick said, to both questions. Amy smiled.
"I've been telling you what I need, Nick," she said. And with a shrug, she added, "I need you."
She quickly knelt by him and pulled the cloth over his mouth. She tied it tightly behind his head, and then spun around on one heel and left the apartment. The door slammed shut and rattled the walls and floor.
Nick shut his eyes as desperation seized him.
Warrick left the small grocery store, the picture of Amy and Nick in his hands. The clerk recognized Amy, but nothing more.
He checked his list of places where Amy had purchased something. It looked like a clothing store was next.
Sara moved on to the next person she saw.
"Excuse me," she said, shoving the pictures of Amy and Nick into the stranger's view. "Have you seen either of these people?"
The man shook his head and brushed by her.
Sara bit her lip and cut off a woman and her two kids.
"Ma'am, have you seen this man or woman?" she asked. The woman shook her head and tightened her grips on her kids' hands.
Sara watched them hurry away. She sighed and turned to the next person she could intercept.
"Grissom," Catherine called out across the street. She glanced at the oncoming traffic and darted across the road.
"Yeah," he said, not looking up from the paper in his hands.
"Brass just called," she said. "He said he was going to have the credit card company freeze the account."
Gil's head jerked up to face her. "No, don't do that."
Catherine raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
Gil shot her a look. "If she sees her credit card is denied, she'll get spooked and run again. We're too close right now."
"I'll call him back," Catherine said.
"Hey hold up," Sara said. She was past the point of politeness. The teenage kid stopped, a glare in his eyes. Sara thrust the photos in his face. "Have you seen them?"
The kid proceeded to glare at her, but finally looked. He started to shake his head, and Sara turned away.
"Hey wait!" he said. Sara turned back with a tired sigh. "I don't live around here. Ask Jake." He pointed down the street where a group of teens sat wasting the day.
She nodded. "Thanks."
The group eyed her as she approached. Sara swallowed but kept her resolve plastered to her face.
"'Sup?" one of them asked.
"You guys seen either of them?" Sara asked, holding up the photos again. The guys looked to each other, and Sara could see they weren't going to be much help.
"What'd they do?" the leader asked.
Sara squinted at them. "Are you Jake?" He nodded, but waited for an answer. "Kidnapped," she said shortly.
Jake seemed impressed by that, though she didn't know why. "He was kidnapped, not her, right?" he said, pointing to Nick's picture.
Sara frowned. No one guesses that normally. "How did you know?"
Jake shrugged. "No way is that girl kidnapped. She's out too much for that."
Sara's heart picked up pace. "Do you know where she stays? When did you see her last?"
Jake and his friends laughed.
"Calm down, lady," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "I don't know where she lives. But I've seen her walk around that place the last couple of days." He pointed across the street to a run-down building.
Sara turned to the teens. "Thank you!"
She whipped out her phone as she dashed across the street.
Gil braked hard as soon as he saw Sara waiting outside the building. Catherine had to brace herself against the dash. She shot her boss a look before jumping out of the car.
"This is it?" Gil asked, locking the car. He heard a couple of cars screech to a halt behind him. One of them had Warrick, the other a LAPD cruiser with two cops.
"I talked with the super," Sara said, showing everyone inside the run-down place. "He doesn't recognize Nick or Mrs. Henler."
"Is he reliable?" Grissom asked. Sara winced and pointed to an office. Grissom let himself in.
The super was stretched back into a loose office chair. The first thing other than his unkempt appearance that struck Grissom was the smell.
Alcohol. The super's eyelids were heavy.
Gil fought the urge to smack the guy. He held up the photos for the guy to see.
"Seen them?"
The super just shrugged. He didn't seem nervous to see these strangers or cops in his office.
"We'll need to see every apartment then," Gil said. That got the super's attention.
"You can't—"
Gil didn't let him finish. He left the office, his pulse racing with his anger. He started banging on the first door he came upon. He failed to see the looks Sara, Warrick and Catherine shared behind his back.
Someone answered the door, which was still chained. Grissom slipped the photo through the crack.
"Have you seen these people?"
The photo was pushed back through the door and the door shut.
Gil whirled around to face his CSIs.
"Spread out. If you come to an empty or unresponsive apartment, get LAPD to call it," he instructed gruffly. They all nodded, including the LAPD officers backing them up.
Nick lifted his head from the floor. There was a lot of noise throughout the building. More than usual, anyway.
Someone was shouting down the hall. Then a slammed door. . . .
He sighed, and laid his head back down.
"Are we sure we have the right building?" Warrick asked Sara. She shrugged.
"No, but this is a place to start." She knocked on another door, and heard someone yell something in another language from behind the door. Warrick laughed.
He knocked on a door down the hall.
No one yelled. He leaned closer to the door, expecting to hear footsteps.
"I've got no answer here," Warrick said. Sara stopped mid-air from knocking on the next door.
"I'll tell LAPD," she said, and rushed off. It didn't mean much. They'd already found three apartments that weren't answering. Without a warrant, they couldn't go in—Warrick doubted it meant more than no one was home.
He knocked again.
Fear was his first reaction. Nick dreaded her being back already. Sure, it'd been a few hours, and he was more than ready to have the cuffs removed for a bit, even if it meant having a gun aimed at him.
His wrists stung anytime he moved, so Nick stayed himself as the noise outside the apartment continued.
But then someone knocked.
It's not Amy. Relief flooded Nick. Wait. Then who is it?
He didn't know, but he tried to yell.
He scowled into the gag. He couldn't project more than the muffled sounds he made. Nick shouted again, but still it was lost in the ambient noise.
Someone knocked again.
"Hello?!" he heard. "LAPD. Open up, please!"
His eyes widened. They're here! Instinctively, Nick shouted into the gag, over and over, trying to get their attention.
"We'll have to wait for the warrant," the officer said. "Maybe the judge will come back with one that covers the whole building."
Warrick nodded, but held his doubts. "Okay," he said. "I'm going to keep trying the rest of this floor."
The officer nodded and turned away.
Suddenly they heard a knock. But it wasn't a knock—it was like a bump. Warrick turned around to face the apartment. The officer had heard it too, and came back to the door.
They leaned towards the door, listening.
Thump! Thump thump thump. It was like someone was kicking the wall.
Warrick pounded on the door. "Is anyone in there!"
Two thumps answered them.
"Break the door," Warrick said to the officer. "We have probably cause to go in." He turned down the hall and yelled to the other CSIs. "We've got something!"
Catherine ran down the stairs to the third floor where Warrick bellowed from. She heard the thundering footsteps of her colleagues as well as they all hurried to see what Warrick had found.
She raced down the hall in time to see the LAPD officers getting ready to break the door.
"On three," one said to the other. Their guns were drawn as one was poised to kick in the door, and she and Warrick moved to the side for them to work.
"One."
"Two."
"Three!"
Bang! The door flew open upon impact, and the officers charged in with their guns raised.
Catherine beat Warrick to the doorway.
"He's here!" the officers shouted.
There, lying on the floor and handcuffed to a pipe, was Nick. Catherine would never forget it.
His eyes were so hopeful that they showed how low he'd been. The gag over his mouth looked tight enough to leave indentations in his skin, but that seemed to be the least of Nick's concerns.
Catherine dashed to his side as the officers unlocked the cuffs. Her eyes flickered to his wrists. They were cut from the restraints, and the flesh around the cuts were raw and inflamed. She saw a brief grimace as the officers took off the cuffs.
She went for the gag.
"Nicky," she said, "you're okay." He nodded as she fumbled with the knot.
"Just cut it off," Warrick said impatiently from behind her. He knelt down and produced a knife. "Hold still, man." Nick obeyed as Warrick slipped a pocketknife below the gag and cut it. "Good to see you, Nick."
Nick swallowed a few times and licked his lips.
"You too, 'Rick."
"Nick!"
Everyone turned to the door to see Grissom and Sara taking in the sight. Catherine smiled.
Nick was okay.