A/N: Oh my Gosh, thank you so much for your feedback. I really appreciate it. Keep it coming! I've been over and over this story, trying desperately to keep my facts straight on the case. LOL I swear this chapter itself was revised about eight times. I hope you like it!
P.S. Criticism, unless constructive, will not be tolerated. Any further reviews calling my work far-fetched, or any other version of the phrase will end the story quickly. This is fan fiction, folks. I write what I want, and if you don't like it, don't read it. Especially don't leave me discouraging words. Follow the Thumper philosophy: If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all.
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"You're so beautiful." The voice was a whisper in Sara's ear. "I can see why he loves you."
"Back off." Despite the pounding in her head, Sara threw her shoulder in the direction of the voice, hard. She made brief contact with someone's forehead, but not enough to hurt them. The voice laughed. Male, deep. She tried to open her eyes, but all she saw was black. Her eyelashes hit a blindfold just as her shoulders were shoved hard into the back of the chair. A huge weight sat on her lap, breath hot on her neck.
"Do you know…what I could do to you?" He whispered. "Of course you do. You see it all the time. It's your job to pick up the pieces of a person's life and put them in a box to bury. I wonder, will he do this for you? Will he pick up your pieces after I scatter them all over Las Vegas?" A tongue slithered over her ear, causing her to spit at her attacker.
He paused for a moment, then a fist collided with her jaw. Sara took it like a man…no noise. Noise would be exactly what he wanted.
"Aww, come on, Sara. Scream for me. Or I'll find another way to make you scream." The cold chuckle filled the air as it walked away and slammed a door behind it.
All she could do was breathe. Breathe loudly enough to hear, to keep her eardrums from bursting in the deafening silence of the room.
-
The computer monitor turned to face Grissom, a picture of a little girl on the screen. She had soft blue eyes and a smile he'd seen before, all framed by curly brown hair.
"Do you remember Anna Rydell? Abuse case, about three weeks ago? The girl's parents…"
"Yeah, it was Sara's. She was really disturbed about it." Gil leaned forward, remembering how the little girl's eyes had captivated him so. "Do you think the parents retaliated against her investigation?"
Catherine nodded. "The family's originally from Boston. Apparently, they were on vacation and Anna ended up in the hospital with some evidence of sexual assault, a bunch of bruises and broken bones. Mr. Rydell went missing from questioning three days after Sara's investigation landed Anna in temporary foster care here in Vegas."
Grissom was out of his chair, heading for the door. "Sit, Gil. I'm not done." Catherine spoke.
He turned and cocked an eyebrow, leaning against the chair. "We're on borrowed time, Cath."
"I know. Anna's parents weren't her real parents. She was adopted. Her mother gave her up when she was born. The birth mother filed for custody one week ago."
"Yeah, and?" Gil was getting impatient. He tapped his fingers on the back of the chair, watching Ms. Willows intently.
She sighed. "The mother's name…on Anna's custody paperwork…is Sara Sidle."
-
After having been cleared and released to work on Sara's case, Greg took the first opportunity to help out.
"Can I help you?" An attractive young lady asked, standing at the door with a toddler on her hip.
"Ms. Baxter, I'm Greg Sanders with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I'm here to see an Anna Rydell, who was recently placed in your custody. I have a warrant for a DNA sample." He held up a piece of paper, eyes flickering to the little boy, who was leaning on his mother's shoulder, eyes drooping with sleep.
"What's this about?" She shifted the little boy and licked her lips, glancing over the warrant.
"A woman recently filed for custody of Anna, but we haven't been able to find a birth certificate to prove that woman is actually her mother. We need to do a DNA test to find out if she's the real deal." Looking past the woman, Greg could see the little girl in the background, quietly reading a book on the sofa. "I promise, there's nothing involved that would hurt her. I just need to swab her cheek for a sample, then I'll be gone." He flashed a charming smile.
Biting on her cheek, she glanced back at Anna. "Alright. Come in."
He entered the house, walking towards Anna with a little bit of a smile. There was something familiar about the little girl…but he wasn't going to make any assumptions until the DNA told him the right answer. Kneeling in front of her, he took a look at the book. "Hi Anna."
Anna's sharp blue eyes looked up. "Hi. Who are you?"
Greg grinned. "My name's Greg. I'm here to do a little bit of a test on you so we can find your Mommy."
She closed the book and sat up on her knees, examining him for a moment before she spoke. "What kind of test?"
"It's one where I take this…" He pulled a cotton swab from his kit and opened the cap to let her see. "And I rub it inside your cheek." He made a corresponding motion. "It collects information from you that can help me find your Mommy."
Anna nodded and looked at the swab, then Greg's chest. "Can I see your nametag?"
"Sure!" He unclipped his badge and handed it to the little girl, watching the amazement in her eyes.
Anna smiled. "Are you a policeman, Greg?"
He laughed and held up the swab. "If I tell you, can I do the test?"
Looking hesitant, she nodded and opened her mouth a little bit.
"Thank you." He swabbed the little girl's cheek and capped it before standing. "I'm not a police officer, but I'm a criminalist. I think you'll find out what that is pretty soon. It was nice to meet you, Anna. I hope to see you again." Grinning, he headed for the door. "Thank you, Miss Baxter. Someone will be in touch."
-
Sweat trickled down Grissom's brow as he paced around the crime scene once more. The body had since been removed and the killer charged with murder. So far, the two crimes hadn't been connected. The new revelations given to him by Catherine told him they never would be. His thoughts swirled. Why would Sara ask for custody of the little girl? Was there any possibility that she was hers? She'd never told him about a boyfriend when she was at Harvard…especially towards the end.
His attention focused on the floor. Suddenly, he leaned down and pulled the tweezers from his kit. A short brown hair laid silently on the red, lacquered floor. Picking it up, he found that the end still contained a skin tag, just enough to run through DNA. He placed the hair into a small envelope and stood, placing it in his kit. Another sweep of the area revealed nothing new to him.
He called Greg's cell.
"Yello?"
"Greg, I'm bringing in a hair sample with a skin tag. It's brown, unlike the vic's and short unlike Sara's. Be ready to run it for me. It's one we missed, and hopefully it's not one of the club goers." He climbed into the driver's seat of his SUV and started the engine.
"Alright, I've got Mia running my swab of the little girl's DNA right now. The results should be in by the time you get here."
"Thanks." Grissom closed his phone and headed back, praying for a lead in the case.
-
"Damn. Do you have anything?" Warrick leaned his elbows on the trunk of the car, having found only an ancient McDonald's cheeseburger wrapper.
"Not yet. Give it a minute." Nick Stokes adjusted his goggles and moved closer to the driver's seat of the car, sweeping a flashlight over the headrest. "Ah-hah!"
"That'd better be a good one." Slamming the trunk shut, Warrick moved to open the back seat, looking over at Nick.
"Oh, it is, Mon Frere. I got a hair. Short, brown. No tag, though." He enveloped the hair and leaned back, pulling out the ultraviolet scanner.
Warrick took the light and waved it slowly over the back seat of the car, his caramel-colored skin paling by the moment. "Nick…it's a bloodbath." Nearly the entire length of the bench seat in the back of the car fluoresced with blood. Closing his eyes for a moment, Warrick caught his breath and looked closer. "Hair. Long and brown. Maybe Sara's?" He bagged the few strands he had, which all looked as if they'd been pulled out of her scalp with force. "God damn, Sara. I hope you fought."
-
"LVPD are asking for any information as to the whereabouts of this woman, Criminalist Sara Sidle. She was taken from an investigation seven and a half hours ago, and fear is rising as the hours continue. If you have any information, please call 555-7840 or the Las Vegas Police Department." Catherine turned off the TV, turning around in the break room to face Greg. "Well…at least people are looking for her now."
"Should they have mentioned that she works for the Crime Lab? Who issued that release?"
Ecklie appeared in the doorway. "I did. You're all wasting time. She needs to be found now. With all the time you've wasted, I'm not so sure she's not already dead." He shook his head, turning with a hint of a smirk on his lips. He was always looking to upstage the night and graveyard shifts. His eyes met a very angry look from Gil Grissom.
"She's not dead."
"Right, how would you know?" Ecklie smirked. "You've been screwing around and following dead leads. Like you always do. I've got half a mind to have you fired for not assigning a team with less personal connection to the victim."
"Fine. Fire me. But I'm pretty damn sure that you'll lose your entire night team if you do. We're looking as hard as we can for Sara, and no other team could do what these are doing. We love Sara. We want her back. Anyone with less of a personal connection would do less to find her." Gil's eyes narrowed, his fists clenched in anger.
"I don't know about the team, but I can tell you love Sara. That kind of relationship is unhealthy, and if you keep it up, you'll definitely lose your job."
There was a sickening crack as Ecklie's nose broke under the pressure of Grissom's fist. "Like I said, fire me. Go ahead. We'll see what the higher-ups have to say."
Mia, astonished, jogged up and cleared her throat before speaking quietly. She nearly grinned as Ecklie ran off to have his nose fixed. "Um, Grissom? The results are printing. We got TWO hits in CODIS. Looks like both Mommy and Daddy are in the database."
Warrick, Nick, Catherine, Grissom, and Greg all stood around the printer, anxiously watching. Even Mia, who hardly knew Sara, wanted to try to glance around them for a shot at seeing the results first, but she was already working furiously on results from the car. As the paper left the printer and rested in the tray, nobody moved for a moment. Eventually, Grissom snatched the paper and turned it over, eyes searching the page for information. He swallowed hard, his brow furrowing at the figures.
"Well?" Catherine asked, a hand on her hip.
The older man remained silent as he walked to a chair and took a seat. Sighing deeply, he handed the paper over to Catherine, whose eyes widened at the results.
"But…Gil…"
"We were all fingerprinted and locked into CODIS when we took this job. But I never expected to see my name on one of those." He removed his glasses and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Griss…you're the father of Anna? Sara's baby?" Nick asked, quietly.
"I forgot about that night. She was graduating in three months, and I flew out to Boston for a party she was having. The bottle of bourbon she bought me was…fantastic. We spent all night drinking and talking about her studies, my work, all that. When I woke up the next morning…she was in my arms. I got scared, so I just left. I didn't want her to remember…but she must have known. Why the fuck didn't she tell me?!" As he stood in anger, Grissom's fist collided hard with the door frame of the lab. He stormed into his office, slamming the door.