Implied Connections
Chapter 6 – Unamusing Musings
By: Braidless Baka
Disclaimer: Well… *attempts not to rant about Greg this time* CSI is not mine… but any funds towards a respectable lawyer to change that would be welcome ^_~
A/N: Next chapter, I promise we'll have some case stuff. Honest to God we will O_o;; I'm desperate to get on with the plot anyway.
A/N2: Fixed an error pertaining to the murder ^_~ If anyone else finds any of these, be sure to let me know. I still had it chalked up as a shooting up until this chapter, but the next few chapters morphed it into something else O_o;;
~~~~~
The room was quiet. The curtains were drawn, and Sara Sidle tried to sleep. She was nocturnal by nature – no – by occupation. She'd spent all night with nothing to do. Night-time TV wasn't even that good. And the lesbian channel she'd stumbled across while channel-hopping was something that would've been a joke at the lab. She tossed quietly, listening to the birdsong outside and the start of moving traffic. Everyone else was going to work right now, and where was she? At home with paid leave, a suspect in a murder investigation.
Suddenly, with a cry of annoyance she pulled the pillow from under her head and flung it with all her strength into the opposite wall. Something fell off the windowsill, following the pillow down to the floor with a smashing sound. Sara's only reaction to this, however, was to pull her duvet over her head with a curse.
She remembered once, before she'd come to Vegas, she had said to a friend of hers, "Sometimes there's no justice, we can do whatever we like to get the right guy, but we can only follow the evidence." She sighed at that thought now. They were wrong. The evidence was pointing at the wrong person, and she couldn't do a damn thing about it.
Then the phone rang.
Nobody could've ever seen the suspended CSI move so fast. The phone was off the hook and to her ear before it had the chance to ring twice.
"Sidle," she answered promptly.
"Hey Sara," said Nick, sounding, as much as he felt, like that he didn't know what to say. It had been his idea, decided Grissom, so it automatically became his job.
"Nick," said Sara, her voice relaxing. Nick was her confidant around the lab. He wasn't going to be jumping to any conclusions. "How's the case going?"
"Yeah," started Nick uncomfortably, "about that…"
There was a pause. Sara chewed on a lip for a moment before murmuring, "Go on."
"We need to get you in for questioning. Making the whole thing 'official'."
"You know I didn't do it, Nick."
Nick sighed. The tautness of her voice was frightening. "I believe you Sara, but the DA doesn't know you as well as we do. This all has to go by the book, or it could get thrown out if it even gets to court."
She nodded for a few moments, "I know that. I really do." She paused. Her voice reflected her thoughts. She didn't know, or, more to the point, she just didn't care. "When do you want me?"
~~~~~
Half an hour later, Sara was at the police station. Nick, as well as Warrick, had decided to sit in on the 'interrogation'. Grissom was nowhere to be found, aware perhaps that his presence would put more of a slant on the discussion than Nick's or Warrick's.
She walked into the room, her head held high, her eyes containing the familiar shine of pride, accompanied by her co-workers.
"We're just waiting for Brass," murmured Nick, unused, it seemed, to taking the opposite side of the table to Sara.
Warrick sat down beside Nick, leaning his elbows on the table and regarding Sara quietly over his loosely closed hands. "This is going to be taped y'know."
"I know that," replied Sara, perhaps a little curtly. "You know what I do for a living."
Nick nodded, taking his lead from Warrick. "Anything you say could impact the whole investigation." He paused uncomfortably, not knowing what to say next.
"If you tell the entire truth this'll work out eventually." Warrick's words were perhaps a little blunt, but he was right.
"I know that too." This time the words were quieter than before. There was a thick silence in the room after she'd spoken, Nick and Sara actively looking anywhere but at each other, studying the floor, Warrick intent to let his gaze rest straight ahead of him, regardless of if he was staring at anyone or not.
Then the door opened with a squeak, and Brass walked in, obviously having hurried from somewhere. He nodded to them all before slotting a tape in the machine. "Interview with Sara Sidle commencing at," he paused and glanced at his watch, "11:45am, May 16th."
And so… the interrogation had begun…
~~~
In the meantime, Catherine had secured her recruit and hustled him out of his lab. Greg had not given a peep of protest at the proposed field trip, hastily discarding his labcoat for a regular jacket, signing out of the building, and following Catherine to the SUV.
"So, where're we actually going?" he asked, pulling himself up and into the Tahoe. He didn't look up as he spoke, now actively busying himself by looking for the seatbelt.
"I didn't tell you?" Catherine's voice, as she followed Greg's example, was sarcastically innocent. She was well aware that she could've taken Greg anywhere without complaint, and was amused by the fact that, only now, did he decide to ask about their destination.
"Nope, not a peep."
"We're going to the Hodgeson home, I want you to help me go over our crime scene again." Absently, Catherine put the key in the ignition and turned it, the engine suddenly springing to life.
"Hodgeson?"
"You remember? The homicide out in Spring Valley?"
"Oh yeah." Absently the tech stretched his feet out in front of him, slouching a little in the passenger seat as he watched them pull out of the parking lot, and begin driving the ten miles out to Spring Valley. After a period of silence he spoke again. "That's Sara's case right?"
He watched Catherine nod, perhaps a little more tightly than usual. Then he turned his gaze away a little. "She didn't do it, did she?"
"No Greg, I don't think she did."
"How can you know for sure?"
Catherine's lips pursed a little tighter at the question. "I can't. But I know Sara. That's the main thing."
"And you know she wouldn't do it?"
"Exactly."
Greg seemed to consider this for a while, manoeuvring himself into the corner between the seat and the door, wedging himself in and slouching even more. Strangely, Catherine didn't mind in the slightest. In fact it was almost novel to see Greg contemplating something. He usually either didn't care enough to think about it, or he knew the answer anyway. "Do you think she did it?"
Jerked from thought, it was Greg's turn to look up, having to physically lift his gaze to see her. "No."
"How can you be sure?"
He tapped his nose lightly with his finger. "A magician never tells his secrets."
"And that's supposed to mean exactly, what?"
"Well… I guess it's instinct." Greg paused, formulating his question carefully. "What does Grissom think about instinct?"
Catherine shrugged, keeping her eyes on the road. "I think he believes in it, but prefers to back it up."
"So, he thinks Sara didn't do it?"
"I don't think anyone thinks Sara did it. It's not about proving who did do it anymore, it's about proving she didn't."
Greg tilted his head, regarding Catherine and her words with curiosity. "Should we even be thinking like that?"
This induced a slight smile. "By being emotionally involved? I suppose not. But sometimes you just can't help it."
"I guess not," agreed Greg quietly, continuing to watch the scenery flick past the car windows, and even going so far as to press his nose up against them comically.
"Greg?"
"Yeah?"
"Stop smearing the car windows…" She paused, her eyes still on the road but now harbouring a wide grin. "I'd appreciate it."