Implied Connections
Chapter 8 – Alibis
By: Braidless Baka
Disclaimer: Uhh… yes… Greg is mine… so is everyone else… now, let's continue ^_~
A/N: Muwaha! And now I get to hold you all in suspense and not tell you what happened to Greg! @.@!! Everyone's been strangely desperate to find out, but since I love you all so much, I'll keep you hanging on the cliff ^_~ Oh yeah, BTW – This is definitely morphing into a Greg fic. (I'm already written up to chapter 17) so if you want the chapters more quickly just bury me under reviews ^_^;;
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The interview was a cold affair. Neither party showed much emotion, in fact Warrick was having such difficulty with not saying anything 'leading' that he switched places with Brass, watching on from the corner of the room, feeling like he should leave but also feeling obligated to stay.
"So, on the night in question you claim to have been nowhere near the crime scene?"
Sara shook her head, gnawing slightly on a lip in response the question, before backing it up verbally. "No, I wasn't."
"How do you explain your shoe prints and strands of hair turning up at the house?"
"I don't know. All I do know is that I wasn't there."
Nick suddenly took over from Jim, desperate to find something, anything, that would counteract Sara's presence at the crime scene. "You were working that night, right?"
"Yes, I was."
"But you clocked out half an hour before the time of death. That gives you plenty of time to drive out to Spring Valley and kill Mrs. Hodgeson."
"Maybe it does," Sara replied evenly, silently wondering where Nick was headed with this. "But circumstance doesn't make me a murderer."
"No," Nick murmured, leaning back a little in his chair in thought. "No, it doesn't. But it swings that way, right?" He paused for a moment. "So, you clocked out at 8:30am? And then, what happened?"
Sara paused suddenly and blinked. "8:30?"
Nick frowned, glancing at the sheet in his hand. "Yeah, it says here 8:30." He looked up again at Sara, who was suddenly pale. "Why?"
"I didn't leave here until nine o'clock, maybe a little past that."
Warrick, having been listening in the whole time, watched as Nick turned to face him, the message unspoken. Silently, the taller man stood and quietly slipped out of the door, intent on finding someone else in the building who might have seen her.
In the meantime, Brass had kept up the questioning for the sake of the tape. "Did you see anyone? Anyone who can verify where you were?" Sara paused, so he continued. "Why did you clock out half an hour before leaving?"
"I clocked out on time, I didn't finish until 9. I know I didn't leave early, I was waiting for some results to come through from DNA."
Jim glanced across at Nick, and mouthed, "Greg?"
In response Nick shrugged. Then he realised that they would be leaving a period of silence on the tape, and spoke. "Did you see anyone while you were in the building? One of the techs maybe? Someone who can back up your alibi?"
Sara knew exactly where they were going with that, but she couldn't lie. The way to make this easier was to not lie. "I didn't see anyone." The words were quiet. Sara wasn't usually so quiet.
"So," said Jim, frowning slightly in frustration. "You can't prove that you didn't leave at 8:30?"
Sara shook her head. "No, I can't. I swear I didn't, but I can't prove it."
There was another pause, both Nick and Jim trying to think of something, anything, to say. Then Jim sat a little straighter and leaning across for the stop button. "Interview over at 1pm." Then he clicked the button. With a creak of the plastic he leaned back in the chair. "If you can't show me someone who can back up your story Sara, my hands are tied."
Sara nodded. "I know that. I can't help that nobody saw me."
"There must've been somebody around at 9 in the morning. Somebody who recognised her. Did Greg clock out by then?" Nick glanced about, hunting desperately for something.
Sara shrugged. "I told you, I didn't see anyone after about 8, nightshift was winding down by then. Someone might've seen me, but it sure didn't go both ways."
"So," murmured Nick, "we're relying on evidence, which we don't have much of right now, and someone who can back up the fact you didn't leave."
"Either that," commented Brass quietly, "or we've got someone in our admin office who's in on it. Someone who changed her sign-out time." Then, after another few moments quiet, yet cryptic, contemplation, Brass stood to go. "Well, thanks for your time Sara. If we find out any more I'm sure someone'll call you."
Sara nodded. "Thanks Brass."
After Brass had moved out of the door, Nick turned back to Sara. "We'll figure this out. You do know that, right?"
Sara nodded, the action unconvincing. "There's of the best criminalistics labs in the country working on it. I'm sure you guys'll manage." Then she stood up. "I'm free to go right? I've not been arrested yet?"
Nick smiled slightly, used to the question every time they did an interview. "No, I guess not."
"Wanna go for a coffee or something?"
Nick paused at that point, having stood up to follow her out of the door. "Gee Sara, I'd love to, but I kinda can't. But y'know-"
"No," she said sharply, cutting him off. "It's okay, don't worry about it."
Nick followed her out quickly, grabbing at her arm and forcing her to turn around sharply in the corridor. "Listen, Sara…"
"What?" she said, the tone harsh and defensive. "I said it's no big deal."
"I just wanted you to know, I just-"
Then, at the worst possible time, Rachel appeared. Turning towards her, Nick decided that, wonderful as she was, her sense of timing royally sucked. "Hey, Nick," she said, walking up. She then stopped, seeing Sara and looked between them, smiling. "Am I interrupting anything?"
There was an awkward silence. Sara, Nick realised, always held the ability of being this difficult. And Rachel, it seemed, wasn't quite in contact with the word, "tact". He decided the best way out was to introduce them.
"Sara, this is Rachel Simmons," he said quickly, deciding it best to start by giving his attention to Sara. "And Rachel, this is Sara Sidle."
"Oh," Rachel murmured, her face taking on a new expression, one of curiosity. "This is… 'Sara'?"
"'Sara' is right in front of you," snapped Sara suddenly, fully aware by now of who Rachel was. "Try talking to her if you have a problem?"
"But I don't have a problem. I was wondering when I could meet you…"
"Don't even bother," she snapped suddenly, thrusting her hands into her pockets and storming off.
That, reflected Nick quietly, was why he'd hoped they'd never have to meet. Sighing, he turned to Rachel, deciding to actively change the topic. "So, where've you been? You've been gone over an hour."
Rachel shrugged broadly. "I've looked everywhere for Grissom. It's like he vanished off the face of the earth."
"Did you page him?"
"Twice. And," she added after a moment. "Warrick's done a vanishing act too. It's like everyone's avoiding me."
Nick shook his head, and forced his expression into a smile. "Come on, stop being so paranoid. Nobody's avoiding you."
"Well, what was with you and Warrick today?" They'd starting walking along the corridor by this point, Rachel's blonde hair swinging across her back as she walked. She was really pretty, Nick decided, if a little tactless.
He shrugged, suddenly remembering the question. "We just had some stuff to talk about. It was kinda personal, so… y'know."
Rachel shrugged. "I mean, it's not like it's any of my business. I was just kinda worried when he started freaking out like that." She paused. "He's okay, right?"
Nick nodded, almost feeling triumphant at being able to reassure himself with Rachel's concern. Warrick was wrong. She was a good person, and a good criminalist. She was just doing her job here, nothing less.
Then, speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Warrick came jogging up behind them. He completely ignored Rachel, speaking directly to Nick. "Come on, man. We gotta go."
"Go where?" Nick blinked in confusion as he spoke the words, pulling back from Warrick who was trying to tug him forward. "What's the big rush?"
"There's been a drive-by."
"And? It's not like they don't happen everyday."
Warrick paused then, frowning. He let go of Nick and just watched him for a few seconds.
"Come on, man," murmured Nick, his strained chuckle nervous at best. "That's a scary look."
"It was the Hodgeson residence." Warrick's words were slow and deliberate. "Catherine called an ambulance."
As the realisation dawned on Nick, his eyes widened. "What about Greg?"
"Catherine called an ambulance," Warrick repeated, almost spitting the words out of his mouth like a foul taste. "Grissom's already on his way there. I'm going too if you want a ride?"
"Man," breathed Nick, not wanting to believe what he thought Warrick was saying to him.
"Is he okay?" Rachel's words were earnest.
Warrick's glare was piercing. "I don't know. But I guess you can have a lift too if you care that much." The turned then and took off up the corridor, Rachel and Nick right behind him.