Author's Note: Hi all! Sorry for the belated chapter, but finals week is coming and I've been swamped with homework. I barely have enough time to watch CSI. ;) Someone asked when I was going to finish this story, and I can't guarantee a timeline. I will say, however, that everything has been plotted out. There's a direction and it may not be the prettiest in terms of characters. The kidnapping angle I find is a little cliche, but I like to think I have a unique angle on it. I will hopefully continue to have a chapter outon a weekly basis. Thanks again for the reviews. Keep them coming! They feed me during my studies!

Thomas Madsen peered into the office, studying the man who was intently staring at a file. He cleared his throat, hoping to catch his attention, but the man didn't even twitch.

"Dr. Grissom?" He asked, finally gaining the other man's attention.

Grissom looked up to see a tall man approach his desk with his hand outstretched.

"Thomas Madsen. I'm with the FBI. I was in charge of Dulhomme's case in California."

Grissom took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair, ignoring the hand. Madsen chuckled nervously and raked his hand through his sandy-blonde hair as he seated himself.

"I can see we're going to get off to a wonderful start."

"I haven't had the most pleasant dealings with FBI in the past," Grissom admitted as he examined the man who looked like he was barely over the legal drinking age. "And I haven't been given any reason to assume that in this case, it would be any different. Did Ecklie call you here?"

Madsen sighed. "Dr. Grissom, I can assure you that I don't intend on taking over your investigation with my own team. In fact, I'm here of my own accord. The U.S. Marshals and other FBI agents are following their own leads."

"Which are?"

"None," Madsen admitted. "That's why I'm here." He threw the file that he had been carrying across the desk. "This is all that we've had to go by."

Grissom opened up the folder. He jerked his head back up to meet Madsen's gaze. "These are-"

Madsen nodded. "They covered Dulhomme's cell."

Grissom returned his attention to the folder. They were all photos of Catherine, all taken from within her home or outside the office. He shuffled through the photos, his hands gripping the edges angrily.

"There were news clippings as well," Madsen said softly.

Grissom threw the photos on the table. "You mean to tell me that this man was obsessing over Catherine for the past year and no one told her?"

Madsen shrugged. "What is there to tell? He was in lock-up." Madsen began jerking his knee nervously, and the motion caused Grissom to raise an eyebrow. "Sorry," the younger man said as he willed his knee to stop, mentally kicking himself for being so unprofessional. "I- uh- it's a nervous tick."

"And you have something to be nervous about Agent Madsen?"

A dark cloud formed over Madsen's handsome features. "Perhaps. This shit is going to hit the fan soon Grissom. The media is going to get a hold of this story, if they haven't already."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Grissom asked, forgetting his own professionalism. "We haven't even notified Catherine's family yet."

Madsen winced. "Conrad Ecklie, as well as my supervisors, believed the sooner we broadcast missing persons, the better chance we would have in smoking out Dulhomme."

"Christ, this is like the Julie Water's case all over again," Grissom said vaulting from his chair, causing the folder to fall to the ground and the photos to spill out. Cursing, he began picking them up.

"Hey boss, I got a match," Nick said as he swung the door open to Grissom's office. Once he noticed Madsen, he drew back. "Sorry, I didn't realize you had company." He glanced over at Grissom, who was still piling photos back in the folder. "Are those photos of Catherine?" Nick said, catching a glimpse.

"Yes. They were found in Dulhomme's cell." Grissom straightened up. "You said you have a match?"

"Shoe size is 10. Nike Air Max. "

Madsen stood. "I'm willing to bet James Dulhomme owns a pair of those Nikes."

"The brother?" Grissom asked crossing his arms.

Madsen nodded. "I've already got your Captain Brass rounding him up for questioning. He was the one who delivered the photos as well as the clippings to Howard in prison."

"So you're on a first name basis with 'Howard'?

"Let's just say, I probably know more about Howard Dulhomme than any of your evidence was able to uncover. I'm a profiler Dr. Grissom. I interviewed Howard extensively while he was in custody."

Grissom re-evaluated the man, and Madsen felt himself squirm under the intense scrutiny. "Well, it is good to have you on the team then. But I want you to get one thing straight. This is my team. My investigation. I'm ready and willing to accept all the help I can get, but if you or anyone else tries to step on my peoples' toes, your ass will be out the door."

Madsen held up his hands in defense. "No arguing from me. It will be my pleasure to work with one of the best crime labs in the U.S. I also know I'm working with the best team in this lab."

Nick squinted at him slightly. "You're a new agent aren't you?"

Madsen shifted his eyes between Grissom and Nick, his leg beginning to twitch again. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh, they can usually kiss the best ass," Nick said, as the door shut behind him with a resounding thud, leaving a bewildered Madsen with an extremely amused Grissom in his wake.


When Sara and Warrick returned from Catherine's neighborhood, they found Grissom and Brass outside the interrogation room, looking in.

"What did you guys find?" Grissom asked, noticing their reflection in the glass when he heard the door swing open.

"No one recalls seeing any strangers outside Catherine's house, but they often saw a green Ford pick-up parked across the street. No one knows who it belonged to," Warrick said.

Brass looked over at Grissom. "Same vehicle our Mr. James Dulhomme drives."

Grissom tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"James Dulhomme? The brother?" Sara asked, as she and Warrick approached Grissom's side.

"Yes, he's being questioned right now."

Warrick's eyes narrowed. "Who's the guy with Nick?" He didn't like the thought of someone else butting into their case.

"FBI Agent Thomas Madsen. He was in charge of the Dulhommeinvestigation in California."

The four of them watched as Nick and Madsen began their questioning.

"Are those Nike Air Max's that you're wearing?" Nick asked, his eyes directed toward James's feet. "Man, those are nice shoes aren't they?"

"They're comfortable," James said, his voice cautious.

"What size do you wear? I bet you're a size 10 or 11."

"10."

Nick smile turned into a grim line. "Mr. Dulhomme, we found shoe prints matching your's outside Catherine Willow's house."

The man shifted uncomfortably in his seat, while his lawyer spoke up. "It's a common shoe size and brand. It could have been anyone," he said, adjusting his wire-rim glasses.

"That's very true," Madsen admitted, as he pulled out the photos that had decorated Howard Dulhomme's prison cell. He fanned the photos out on the table. "Did you take these Mr. Dulhomme?"

It was the first time Warrick and Sara had seen them. They were close enough to see what they were, but far enough away to not make out the details. Sara turned away, feeling sick while Warrick tensed up, his hands forming into tight balls by his side.

His lawyer bid James to be quiet, but the man shook his head. "You know I did."

"And you delivered these photos to Howard at prison didn't you?"

"Look, is this what this is all about? I told your other people that I had nothing to do with that woman's kidnapping. Yes, my brother had an obsession with her. Yes, I took photos for him. There was nothing technically illegal."

"You were stalking her," Nick exclaimed, getting a stern look from Madsen, but not caring. "Under Nevada State law, it is technically illegal."

James laughed. "Whatever. She's not the kind of woman who probably would have minded Howard jerking off to her photos. The woman used to take off her clothes for a living. So what if I took some photos of her undressing. It's nothing that anyone hasn't seen before."

"That asshole-" Warrick snarled, preparing to storm into the interrogation room and beat James Dulhomme to a bloody pulp.

Grissom grabbed Warrick by his arm and swung him against the wall, holding him to it with more strength than he thought he had. "Warrick, you can't go in there with your state of mind. You know Ecklie's looking for a chance to pull us off this case. If he sees you blow your lid, Catherine's case shifts hands and you get suspended. If you want to help Catherine, don't let your feelings interfere with the investigation," Grissom hissed.

Warrick's eyes looked pained, but he nodded in defeat. Feeling satisfied that he wouldn't try and pull anything, Grissom finally released his grip, but instead of returning to watch the interrogation, Warrick stormed out of the room, into the hallway,

Sara started to go after him, but Grissom held her by the elbow. "Let him go. He needs to burn off that anger."

"We're all going to need to do that soon," Brass said nodding toward the interrogation room. "They're not going to be able to hold him. A missing person can't exactly file charges against a stalker."

"Do you think he knows where Catherine is?" Sara asked Grissom, studying him as he, in turn, studied James from behind the mirror.

"Without a doubt," Grissom said finally, even though it was against his nature to speculate."We just need the evidence to prove it."