OOU 17/?

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A staring contest ensued that lasted almost twenty minutes. Gil never flinched, but Sawyer grew more and more restless and uncomfortable. Finally, he made the first move, just as his interrogator had intended.

"What do you want?" he barked. "You can't keep me here much longer, you know. God... you drag me out of my house, throw false charges at me, lock me up with... with real criminals... I tell you what, my lawyer's in the process of suing all your asses into the next century!"

Grissom grinned lightly.

"Brett..."

"Yeah? What?"

"I don't understand this. I've looked at your background and... I just don't get it. How does a good man, with an education and no previous criminal record, wake up one day and decide that destroying someone else's life is no big deal? I really hope you can explain it to me, because... it just doesn't make sense."

"You're the one not making sense. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh? Then you deny the charges?"

"Damn right I deny them. I did nothing wrong."

"You do admit you know Greg Sanders."

"He's a friend. So?"

"Do you have nasty, derogatory names for all your friends?"

"What?"

"When I introduced myself you said..."

"That? It's a nickname... a joke. He works with other people's blood every day, but show him a drop of his own and he acts like a little girl... so his nickname's bitch."

"You drugged, raped and beat another man. What does that make you?"

"I didn't... I would never do that! You're sick!"

"You know, you can skip the cry of the righteously indignant and go straight to remorse and confession if you'd like. Inevitably, that's where we'll end up, but I prefer the shortcut."

"I didn't rape anybody."

"Since he wasn't aware and fighting back, I'm sure you don't think you did. Did you even know you'd used too large a dose?"

"Dose of what?"

"The drug you put in Greg Sanders' drink."

"I never drugged anybody in my life! Where are you getting this?!"

"You're saying it was your fellow rapist that did the spiking?"

"Well it wasn't me!"

Sawyer paled, realizing too late that he had slipped. In response to Grissom's next question, he back-pedaled into total denial, though his mind was screaming that even one mistake was too many. Grissom, however, had a game plan and while he noted and filed away the error and the physical response from his suspect, he let it slide and continued on as if he had noticed nothing strange.

"Who made Greg's drink?"

"What drink?"

"He was never at your house."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you."

Grissom smiled thinly and tilted his head towards where Brass stood, leaning quietly against the observation window.

"Jim. Could I have that item I asked you to bring? And a pair of gloves, if you happen to have any with you."

"Sure." The older man replied, handing over a small evidence bag and the requested gloves. Grissom handed one glove back to him. He wanted to question the move, but Gil's eyes asked him to trust and he readily complied. Grissom laid the bag on the table, sat back and initiated another round of silence, forcing Sawyer to come up with an answer.

"A watch. I'm quaking with fear."

"You should be. It was found in your nightstand."

"Uh-huh."

"You're saying it's yours?"

"I bought it two weeks ago. Paid over a hundred and fifty for it at a jeweler on the strip."

"And if I could produce ten witnesses that have all seen Greg Sanders wearing this watch over the past month?"

"They'd all be liars." Sawyer asserted, his face darkening. "I know my own watch, don't I?"

"I'd think so. Tell me, Brett, is there anything special about your watch?"

"Special? Like what?"

"You tell me."

"It's a watch. It doesn't make coffee or cook a roast."

"Funny. Nice wit."

Gil picked up his half of the set of gloves, took his time snapping it on and adjusting the fit and carefully removed the watch from the bag. He then held it over his shoulder. "Jim, would you put that glove on and do me a favor? Take a good close look at this... and give me your observations."

"Okay... it's not three-dollar, convenience store junk... but if it cost one-fifty I'm Wayne Newton. And I'm not. Case looks to be real silver, though I can't be sure. And on the other side..." he said turning it over, "... an inscription. Doesn't make much sense. It's just... lines of capital letters. DGU, then DGI under that... the last one is IBIY."

Grissom accepted the watch back, returned it to the bag and slipped the bag into his own pocket.

"What does that mean, Brett?"

"How do I know? My... my girlfriend did it. Some stupid woman thing."

"Something... romantic maybe?"

"Could be."

"Then why wouldn't she tell you what the letters meant?"

"I don't know." the other responded slowly, rising anger evident in his tone.

"Wrong answer."

"Hell with you! You know so much, you tell me what..."

Sawyer's words petered out as Grissom began to smile. "You're trying to make me mad. Bastard..."

"Occasionally, when the need arises. Now if we can get back to you? What I'm trying to find out is why you don't know the meaning of the inscription... if the watch is yours."

"It is and I'm not letting you run a head game on me! You've got no more idea what that watch says than I do!"

Gil smiled wider and addressed his colleague again.

"Jim, would you call Catherine at the hospital and ask her to join us?"

"Absolutely."

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"He wants... why? But can't you... oh. Okay. Yeah, I'll be there. He understands I don't want to be away for too long.. Yeah. Right. Bye."

Nick looked at her curiously.

"Work?"

"No. Brass says Grissom wants me down at the station for a little while but he won't say why." She explained, gathering her purse and coat. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay." Warrick replied, touching her hand briefly as she moved past him. "If you have a chance to help nail Sawyer's ass to a prison cell floor..."

"I'll do it." she vowed, stopping for a moment at Greg's side. "Don't worry, okay? I won't be gone long. You hang in and keep getting stronger."

Once Catherine left, another period of deep silence descended on the room. When Nick finally spoke up, Warrick was so startled he had to make an effort to stay in his chair.

"Sorry, man ..." Nick said, suppressing a laugh.

"No... it's alright. If I wasn't following some dusty trails in my head..."

"You too? Which ones?"

"The Adler case mostly."

"Adler..."

"Started out as a Jane Doe." Warrick reminded Nick. "Young black woman, shot in the head and raped.... left on the side of the road."

"Yeah... I got it now. Sara... she got pretty lost in that one."

"I remember Gris tellin' me he couldn't pull her away from the missing persons lists 'till she found out who the lady was."

"Sara tried to get the boss to let her stay on scene that time, but he vetoed her... sent her to the hospital to do the kit. I remember lookin' up and wonderin' what happened to upset her so bad... God... how many times did we just gloss over what we shouda been pickin' up on? What I shoulda picked up on..."

"Don't beat yourself up, Nick. You weren't the only one who went blind. Still... maybe that's part of bein' a survivor too."

"What is?"

"Missin' the signs in somebody close to you. Helpin' them confront their abuse would just cause a back up in your own mental sewer line... so unconsciously you try not to see."

"You think I... My God. You're sayin' on some level I knew Sara was in trouble... but I chose to protect myself..." Nick reasoned. Suddenly shaking, he pushed back his chair and stood, though, to Warrick, the other man's knees didn't look like they'd hold him up very long. He rose as well and moved swiftly to support his distraught friend, bracing him with a strong hand under his elbow and an arm around his shoulders.

"I didn't say you chose anything, Nick... if it happened it was probably an automatic defense... somethin' you learned to do so you didn't have to feel that pain over and over every damn day of your life. You didn't do it on purpose..."

Nick breathed deeply and slowly straightened away from Warrick, acutely aware of how the last few days had drained him.

"Maybe. Thing is, now that I know... I have to try an' throw her a rope. No matter what she thinks, ignorin' it only makes it worse."

" We have to throw it."

"Okay. We have to. First we have to find her."

"I'll call Vega, have him put together a low-key search."

"Suggest he start with the lab and the station."

"Right. There are maybe a thousand places she could hide out just in that set of buildings."

"I'll call Brass. Maybe he's seen her since she high-tailed it outta here."

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THE STATION:

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Thank you for coming down, Catherine. I need you to look at something for me... and tell me if you recognize it."

He pulled the evidence bag from his pocket and gave it to her. He was gratified to hear her gasp of recognition, but his heart also twisted painfully, knowing the renewed pain Catherine was suffering. "Tell me." he encouraged.

"This... this is Greg's."

Sawyer, watching his last chance at freedom circle the proverbial drain, made one last attempt at protesting his innocence. Standing abruptly, he shouted wildly and lunged forward, wanting the room to be thrown into chaos. It didn't work.

"That's a lie! She's lying! I told you I bought it two weeks ago! Bitch wouldn't know enough to pick out something that good for himself..."

Brass walked over and stood behind Sawyer, placing his hands on the man's shoulders. His anger was palpable, filling the area around both of them, and Sawyer reacted instantly. The result was that Brass didn't even have to apply any pressure to get the suspect quieted down and back into his seat.

"Stay there... and shut up unless you're asked a question. Clear?"

He got a sullen nod in response. "Go ahead, Grissom."

"How do you know that's Greg's watch, Catherine?"

"I gave it to him as a gift last month. I've been seeing so much improvement in his field work... and he wants to be a CSI so bad... I wanted to encourage him."

Gil was now staring at the table, knowing that if he looked at her, it was likely they'd both fall apart.

"Is there anything special about it?"

"Yeah... I had it inscribed. What I wanted to say wouldn't fit, so I had them do the initials instead... DGU, DGI, IBIY." she recited.

"Which stand for..."

Catherine swallowed with difficulty, brushed a stray tear from her face and responded hoarsely, forcing the words out.

"Don't Give Up. Don't Give In. I Believe In You."

When he looked back up at Brett Sawyer, Gil knew the effort and the time had been worthwhile. The man hadn't completely broken yet, but he was so close to the edge that it didn't matter.

"Brett? It's your turn."

"You... don't understand. You couldn't possibly... it wasn't supposed to happen that way... I never wanted..."

"I know. Just tell us the whole story, exactly the way you remember it...."

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TBC...