A/N: Thanks for your awesome feedback on the first chapter. I really appreciate it! I hope you stay as interested in reading the story as I have been writing it.
"Well?" Grissom stood, waiting impatiently for DNA results from the blood found on the victim. "It was inconsistent with his wound. Tell me it's his, though. Please tell me."
Mia sighed softly. "Griss…it's female." She handed the lab result over to Grissom with a lump in her throat. "It's Sara's."
Gripping the lab report, Grissom tore out of the lab, moving towards Catherine's office. "What do you have?" His voice was nearly a growl.
"I'm looking into both vics…" Catherine looked up at Grissom, clearing her throat. "I'm trying to figure out if they're connected in any way. Maybe you can help? How long have you known Sara?"
"Ten years. I knew her when she was a student…we corresponded." Sitting down across from her, he tossed a lab report. "Blood on the vic matched Sara's CODIS entry. She's hurt, Cath." He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm not resting until she's back safe in my lab."
"Sure you meant to say 'lab', Griss?" She cocked an eyebrow and looked through records on Sara. "There's six months between when she was a student and when she started working at San Francisco. And I've got nothing to account for those. Strange relationship, maybe? Something of that nature?"
Grissom licked his lips. "The last time I saw Sara before she came to work here in Las Vegas…probably about three or four months before she graduated. She wasn't seeing anyone. She was as straight-laced as she had been in school." His eyes drifted to the side, then back to Catherine with a shrug.
She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'll dig. And the vic's been identified as George McCallan. Sara's photos are being processed to see if the kidnapper stole anything from the scene…besides Sara."
-
"Look, I told you already what happened. I was talking to Davies. I heard Sara scream. I heard two gunshots. I ran back to the scene. Sara was gone. I went out the door in the direction of her drag marks, and I saw an unmarked car peel out of the alley." Greg lifted his head off of the table and blinked at Brass. "We're all upset about this. And I want to help. Please."
"You know I can't let you do that until you're cleared, Sanders. You're a witness. Letting you work the case without proper evaluation would be a conflict of interest. Sorry." The older man stood from the table and walked out the door, addressing the psychologist outside. "Go easy on him, okay? I trust him, and I'm pretty sure you do too."
The psychologist nodded before heading into the interview room.
-
"I found the treads." Warrick jogged into Grissom's office, slamming a paper on the desk. "Nothing special about them. However, thanks to Greg's report, I narrowed to a make and model on the car. Buick LeSabre, probably a 1998 or 1999." Warrick found himself staring at the back of Grissom's chair throughout his report.
"Put out an APB on the car. I'll see if Cath has anything on the backgrounds of Sara and the vic." Warrick watched Grissom stand, his jaw set, eyes red and watery. He stormed out of the office before a word could be said. Shaking his head, Warrick took his results and jogged off to find Nick.
"Cath, what do we have?" Grissom was still upset, but he'd taken a moment to rinse his face, ridding himself of most evidence of crying.
Catherine was leaning back in her chair, chewing on a fingernail as she scrolled down a webpage. "I've got something, but I'm not sure about it. Could be totally bogus."
Eyes darkening, brow furrowing, Grissom leaned forward and took a seat. "What? Something weird? I can't imagine Sara having an odd past…"
"Well, get ready to be amazed." Catherine let out a deep sigh.
-
"Mia and Hodges say that with Sara's photos and the evidence collected, Gallows did it. Sara's case would have been open-and-shut." Brass leaned on the table where Warrick was sitting with Nick, shaking his head. "Anything new?"
Warrick stood, his hands splayed on the desk. "I put an APB out on the car, no news yet. I wish there was more I could do."
Running into the room, Nick swung around the door frame. "They found the car abandoned about six blocks from the strip. I'm on my way to process it. Wanna go, Brown?"
Nick didn't have to wait for an answer.