Gil Grissom would be easy. Easier than Jim Brass. Jim Brass was now out of the hospital on a medical leave of absence. He had not lost interest in Brass, but it was not fair to hunt wounded prey. He should have started with Grissom. Intelligent, yes, but predictable. Grissom Followed a routine.

It had only taken him three weeks to memorize this one's routine. Work, home, work, home, except on Monday's and Friday's. Grissom went to a bookstore and bought magazines. Professional publications that were waiting for him when he arrived at the store. Grissom bought them ,sat and drank coffee in the coffee bar next door and read each publication. He bought groceries at the same grocery store. He never deviated from his routine. Grissom met with a realtor at 3:00 p.m. on the days he didn't read and then went to work. Grissom always followed the realtor's car.

Getting Grissom would require very little effort. He would just wait in his apartment and kill him. He had posed as a reporter seeking a story about Brass and had been led into the office of none other than the head of the department. A pompous ass named Ecklie. Ecklie had given him more than he needed to know about Gil Grissom. He had even volunteered that Grissom was taking some much needed time off, after the incident with Brass, to reevaluate his situation. This man had put the final nail in Grissom's coffin for a promised mention in People magazine.

All He had to do now is wait. Wait until Grissom didn't go to work, wait until he altered his routine and began to revaluate. As far as he could gather Grissom had no interaction with anyone other than the people connected with his routine. The neighbors would be the first to notice smell. Then someone would investigate. By then He would be gone and so would the other three.

Catherine was the first to put the pieces together about the gunshots. The bullet trajectories were off. Only one shot had been fired at a target. Reenacting the scene with Nick and Warrick had convinced her of this. Three shots had be fired at nothing , Far above the heads of the crowd. Brass and Warrick had been the targets of this sniper. The bullet in Brass's arm was meant for Warrick's back. They were already looking for a military trained sniper. The bullets confirmed that fact. If Dr. Waterhouse had not acted so quickly Jim would have died. She started to share her findings with Gil, but remembered he was off "getting a life" for a few days. She would have to run this by someone. Who would want to kill Jim and Warrick. The shooter had several chances to shoot Nick and didn't take them. Someone wanted Warrick and Jim dead.

Sara was just coming on shift as Catherine was locking her office.

"Can I run something by you ?" Catherine asked

"Sure, Oh, I'd steer clear of Greg for a while, he is still steamed about the gym bag thing. "

"What ever happened with that?"

"Prank, road kill in the gym bag, but Greg's date book could have been filled all year. He is still getting phone messages."

"Great, I'll remember that. Hey step inside and let me show you something about Jim's case."

He noticed her as she walked to her table. Red head, not young not old. Good legs, nice set of …

"Sir are you ready to order?" the waiter asked impatiently.

Jim had been sitting at the table waiting for Ellie for thirty minutes. He had resigned himself to the fact she wasn't going to show. Their plans had not been firm. She had to fly back to L.A. for her job. He was thankful she had one. She was working at some boutique on Melrose. When she had arrived at the hospital and found out he wasn't dead, she couldn't get back to L.A. fast enough. She had mentioned a buying trip to Las Vegas before she left. He reminded her that her birthday fell on that week and they should meet here. He had left a message at her hotel with the time and place.

The redhead was looking at him. Now she was walking over to him.

"You are not about to order something that will ruin all the hard work I put into that heart?" she said as she sat down