Title: A Wolf at the Door
Author: Spike Speigel
E-mail:
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Grissom/Sara
Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me. Just taking them for a joyride.
Spoilers: Everything before Viva Las Vegas. Sequel to No Surprises.
Summary: The crime lab gets a wake up call when they become the focal point of a new case. Part II.
Status: Finished
All of the CSIs had wanted to go to the hospital to be at Robbins' side after he had been brutally assaulted in the morgue. However, Grissom wouldn't allow it. There had been a crime committed in his house. And, right now, he wanted answers. So, while his people began processing the lab, Grissom drove to the hospital to meet up with Warrick who had ridden along with Robbins in the ambulance. Three hours later, and a doctor finally walked toward their general direction in the waiting room. Grissom and Warrick rose from their seats, Grissom querying the doctor.
"How is he?"
The doctor wiped his brow, not looking at Grissom as he spoke. "He's stable, but still critical I'm afraid. We managed to stop the bleeding, but he lost a lot of blood from his carotid. The lacerations he suffered across his back didn't help matters any, I'm afraid."
Confusion overcame Grissom, the doctor's words not making sense. "So, you're saying whoever attacked my doctor didn't mean to kill him?"
"Well, dismissing the fact that he would have bled out had you not found him, I'd have to say no. The cuts on the back were superficial at best, and the cut along the neck was shallow enough to allow for a slow bleed. So, either Doctor Robbins' assailant didn't mean to kill him, or he wanted him to die slowly."
Grissom nodded, the news not assuaging his fears any. Warrick finally spoke, emotion evident in his voice. "Can we talk to him?"
The doctor shook his head slightly, looking down at his pager, which had begun to beep incessantly. No doubt he was needed for another patient. "I'm sorry. He's still not out of the woods yet. Until his red blood count returns to normal, Doctor Robbins will have to remain here for the interim." The doctor looked up at Grissom and Warrick, an apologetic tone in his voice. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. We'll let you know if his condition changes."
Warrick spoke, Grissom nodding slightly. "Thanks." As the doctor made his way from the men, Warrick turned to Grissom, who remained lost in thought. "So, where do you want to start?"
Grissom didn't look up as he spoke. "I need to know who got into the morgue."
"Nick's already going over the security tapes from today. I'm sure he'll turn up something."
Grissom began to walk down the hall, Warrick following suit. "Let's see if he's found anything yet."
"I'm sorry, Grissom. He's not on the tape."
Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration before speaking. "You're telling me no one entered the room after I did?"
Nick turned back to the computer console, tapping at the keyboard. "It's not that, Griss. Here, take a look." Grissom and Warrick turned their attention to the computer monitor, watching the hallway camera to the morgue move backward in time. When Nick reached the appropriate point in the feed, he tapped another key. "It should happen right around here." Grissom was about to ask Nick what he was talking about. However, his question was answered once the shift in the image occurred. "You see it? Someone adjusted the camera so the morgue's out of view."
Grissom spoke, his voice somber. "Fingerprints?"
"Sara's processing them right now."
Warrick followed Grissom's train of thought, following up. "Anyone on the tape that isn't supposed to be there?"
Nick sighed, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "Last time stamp has Grissom going into the lab and coming back out. Other than the people in the hallway, no one else made a bee line to the morgue."
Warrick finished Nick's thought. "Which means whoever it was must have come through the loading dock."
Nick nodded at Warrick. "Cath's out there right now."
Before Grissom could speak, Warrick answered him. "I'm on it."
Grissom nodded, Warrick walking out of the video processing room. He turned to Nick, his voice steady yet urgent. "See if you can find anything odd prior to the camera being moved."
"You got it." With that, Nick turned back to the computer console, his fingers moving fluidly over the keyboard.
Grissom stepped out of the room, his next stop Greg's lab. He needed some good news at this point. Anything to link the envelope to this madman. Grissom frowned slightly upon realizing that he was generalizing. For all intent and purposes, whoever was orchestrating this so-called game was someone that had planned two steps ahead of his people. A madman would have been more blunt in his attacks. But, these attacks were almost elegant, akin to a dance. One shot for Bob Miller, a few strategic cuts on Robbins. But why had he let Robbins live and not Miller? Grissom pushed the question away, realizing that he was nearing Greg's lab. However, before he could step in, Greg ran out into the hall to meet him. Apparently, he had something after all.
"Greg?"
"Grissom, I think we have a problem."
"What kind of problem?"
Greg nodded his head toward the lab, Grissom following him inside. As Grissom looked on in interest, Greg held up the envelope found under Doctor Robbins' head. "Regular white envelope. No fingerprints evident. And the blood is all from…" Greg paused slightly, not sure how to convey his findings to Grissom. "Well, you know that part. Anyway, it's what I found inside the envelope that has me concerned."
Grissom crossed his arms about his chest, his curiosity piqued. "What did you find?"
Greg stumbled for his words before continuing. "A hair follicle. Skin tag and everything."
"You run it through CODIS?"
"Yep. No match." Grissom shook his head slightly, knowing that Greg was undoubtedly hiding something. "But, I got to thinking about what went down and that cryptic note on the envelope…"
"Greg, I don't have time for this. What did you find?"
Greg leaned closer to Grissom, his voice lowered as though he didn't want anyone else to know what he'd found. Grissom would find out soon that Greg was right about being cautious with his findings. "The hair? It's Warrick's."
Grissom stared at Greg for a moment, not entirely believing what he was hearing. "Are you sure?"
"Ran it three times. It matches with what's on file for Warrick." Greg moved back slightly, a hint of trepidation in his voice. "Grissom, how did that guy get Warrick's hair?"
Grissom answered truthfully. "I don't know." Grissom nodded his head slightly at Greg, visibly impressed with his technician. "Give the envelope one more pass and then head over to video processing. Nick could use help going through the security logs."
"Um, yeah. Sure thing." Grissom began to walk out into the hallway, but Greg's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Grissom?"
"Yeah, Greg?"
His voice was nervous, as thought he wasn't really sure of how to best frame his words. After a moment, Greg spoke. "Um, well. If this guy's got an agenda, shouldn't someone tell Warrick about what's going on? You know, just in case?"
Grissom had to smile at Greg's observation. He was, in fact, correct. Because, that's what Grissom had intended to do before Greg brought the point up. "I'll keep it in mind, Greg." Then, as an aside, "Good work." Greg tried to hide the smile from Grissom, but the corner of his lips gave him away. "Let me know if you find anything else before going to see Nick."
"You got it, boss man."
"Hey, Cath." Warrick pulled on the second latex glove before placing his kit next to hers. "Anything so far?"
"Too many prints on the doors. Too much debris outside." Catherine sighed, her forearm wiping her brow. "I've got too much everything and not enough time to process."
Warrick walked over to Catherine, gently squeezing her shoulder as he knelt down beside her. "We'll get this guy. Just step back for a bit and take a deep breath."
"A deep breath, huh?" Warrick nodded his head, a small smile evident. Catherine straightened herself so she was now eye level with Warrick. "Deep breath. Okay." And so she did. Oddly enough, she found herself beginning to relax. Another deep breath, this time Warrick breathing with her.
"Feel better?"
"A little. Thanks."
Warrick lazily smiled at Catherine before surveying the area. "Alright. So, where do you want me?"
"How about below the landing dock?"
Warrick nodded before leaping into the small cutout that allowed the various vehicles to deposit their cargo, usually of the deceased variety. "Can you pass my kit down here?" Catherine reached for it, holding it by the handle. Even though the latex glove was still on her hand, she could feel Warrick's gloved hand brush against hers, a feeling of embarrassment overcoming her. She smiled meekly at him, Warrick returning the gesture. "Thanks."
"No prob." As Warrick began to look around the parking area, Catherine spoke, a hint of worry in her voice. "So, how is he?"
Warrick continued to survey the area, not looking at her as he spoke. "Stable for now. Doctor said he'd call if his condition changes."
Catherine sighed, somewhat put at ease at the news. When Robbins had been moved from the morgue, he had been such a mess. The fact that he was stable was enough for her at the moment. "And Grissom thinks the Miller case and this are related?"
"Seems to be. Guy on the phone knew stuff about the Miller case that wasn't released to the press. Add to that him telling Grissom about Robbins, and you've got someone that's not playing with a full deck."
They didn't notice Grissom standing near the bay doors until he spoke. "Shouldn't underestimate this guy, Warrick. Clearly, he's a methodical person. Always dangerous, when you get right down to it."
Both CSIs turned toward Grissom, Catherine asking the obvious. "You find anything?"
"Warrick, pack your stuff up. There's a black and white out front waiting for you. They'll escort you home."
Before Warrick could ask about Grissom's request, Catherine interrupted. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Cath. We're just being cautious."
Her voice was more urgent now. "You found something, didn't you? Tell us."
Grissom furrowed his brow, unsure on how to proceed. Warrick pulled himself out of the cutout, moving toward Grissom as he spoke. "What's this about?"
"Greg found a hair in the envelope." He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "He matched the DNA."
Catherine stood up, now standing next to Warrick. "A lead?"
Grissom sighed, a hint of fatigue in his voice. "It's yours, Warrick."
A laugh escaped Warrick's lips, unsure on how to take this revelation. "You're kidding, right?" Grissom slowly shook his head, the subtle smile fading from Warrick's face. "Wait, so you're telling me whoever shot Bob Miller and assaulted Doc Robbins somehow got my hair, stuffed it in an envelope, and now I'm next on his hit parade?"
"You saw the message on the envelope, Warrick. I'm just trying to do my job. And right now it's keeping you out of harm's way."
The anger was evident in Warrick's voice as he spoke. "No, right now it's letting me do my job. What good is it gonna do Robbins if I'm placed under house arrest? You need me out here."
Catherine finally chimed in, her voice calm. "Go home, Warrick."
Both men turned to Catherine, Warrick speaking with a hint of surprise in his voice. "What?"
She looked at him, her voice quiet. "We can pick up the slack. No reason for you to be lying next to Al." Her voice wavered as she continued. "Please, Warrick. Go home."
He didn't mean to yell, to direct his anger at her, but that's what he did. "God, Cath. Of all people, I woulda thought you'd have my back."
"Warrick…"
"No, don't." He turned to Grissom, pulling his gloves off. "And I thought you'd have more faith in me."
Grissom spoke, sincerity in his voice. "It's not about faith. You know that."
"Whatever. You guys need me, I'll be home with a thumb up my ass." Before either could respond, Warrick pushed the bay doors open, disappearing into the building.
The locker door slammed shut, Sara sliding her arm into her jacket when she heard the voice from behind her.
"There you are. Been looking for you."
The corners of her mouth began to move upward, her other arm finding its destination. She pulled on the jacket collar to ensure her arms were sufficiently in before turning around. "Business or pleasure?"
"Sara, I thought we agreed…"
She waved him off, a small laugh escaping her lips. "I'm just teasing. What's up?"
Grissom couldn't help but smile back. They had a strict rule. Nothing personal while in the confines of the lab. However, he was finding that rule most difficult to follow since all he wanted to do at that moment was close the locker room door behind him and see where things went from there. Unfortunately, there wasn't time for that. Not with the case still open. "Pull any prints from the camera?"
"One set. A Jorge Mendoza. Works for the security company that installed the cameras. Long shot, but Brass and I are about to head over there and see if he knows anything."
Grissom nodded. "Good. Let me know if anything turns up."
"Will do." She walked over to him, eyeing him over. "You okay? You look like you're miles away from here."
"It's nothing you need to worry about." Sara tilted her head, giving him an inquisitive look. "Seriously, it's nothing."
Sara nodded slightly, standing directly in front of him now, mere inches from him. "Okay. I'll let it go. But, you've got to understand something."
Grissom furrowed his brow, unsure of where she was going with this. "Which is?"
"If something has you worried, it has me worried too. It's always been that way, and it's always going to be that way." Grissom smiled at Sara, his head lowered slightly. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"Okay."
She gently squeezed his hand quickly before walking down the hallway toward the parking lot. Grissom looked on as she disappeared in the distance, his mind drifting back to his office. To the velvet box locked away in the bottom drawer. It had been three months. Catherine had told him to proceed slowly. After all, if anyone was the poster child for emotional ineptitude, it was Grissom. But still, the thought of taking the velvet box out of the drawer had begun to cross his mind more frequently. However, he didn't dwell on the thought. It could wait. Right now, closing the case was all that mattered.
He'd been home for a little over four hours and he was already going out of his mind. Actually, he'd lost it as soon as the patrol car parked in front of his place, but that was just semantics. Therefore, he did the only thing he could at a moment like this. He sat in front of his television and played Madden 2005. For four hours.
So, it came as something of a surprise when he heard the knock at the door. At first, he thought nothing of it. But, seeing as how he'd been sent home for precautionary reasons, Warrick reached for his service weapon sitting on the end table, pulling it out of its holster. He slowly walked toward the front door, gun against his hip. He looked through the peephole to see someone he didn't expect to see. Especially after today. He opened the door slowly, Catherine standing in his doorway, a brown bag in one hand, a Styrofoam tray with two beverages in the other.
"Hey. Busy?" Warrick shook his head, giving Catherine a quizzical look. An awkward silence remained in the air until Catherine spoke once more. "Mind if I come in then?"
"Um, no. I mean, yeah. Come in." He stepped away from the door, allowing Catherine to enter the premises. As she turned back around to look at him, Warrick closed the door, confusion still evident. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought you might be hungry, so I picked us up a little something." Warrick leaned backward against the doorframe, a look of confusion evident. "Look, I just wanted to apologize for what went down earlier…"
"Don't worry about it. Grissom thinks it's best I'm under lock and key, I'll go with it. Doesn't mean I have to like it, but I'll go with it."
Catherine placed the contents in her hands onto the table adjacent to her before turning back to Warrick. "I didn't mean that. I meant the not having your back thing." Warrick was about to wave her off, but she interrupted him by continuing. "Any other case, I woulda been there for you. You know that. But after seeing Al, it's just…" She looked down for a moment before looking back at him, a nervous air about her. "Look, we're pretty much a family over in the lab, but it's always been different with us. You know stuff about me that I haven't told anyone else. Hell, you know me better than Grissom does, and he knows everything." She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. After an awkward silence, she continued. "I guess what I'm trying to say is…"
Warrick had a good idea about the point she was trying to get across, so he decided to let her off the hook. "Yeah, I know." They reciprocated smiles, Warrick glancing over to the paper bag. "Philly cheesesteak?"
"Two. With the works." She picked up the bag and cup holder, Warrick leading her to the dining area. She offered him another smile as she spoke. "Let's dig in before they get cold."
"So, did you finish processing the loading dock?"
Catherine nodded slightly before leaning back into the leather couch. She could feel the weight of the sandwich in her stomach, but it was worth it. It wasn't often she allowed herself to consume one of Tony's cheesesteaks, but tonight it seemed to be the thing to do. "Yep. Fingerprints off the doors are still running through the database. I'll check on those once I head back."
"How about the parking area?"
"Got an impression of some fresh tire tracks. Nothing out of the ordinary, though. All were ambulance class tires." At that moment, her cell phone began to ring. Catherine leaned forward, fishing the cell from her jacket that now resided on the coffee table. "Other than that, pretty much nothing." Warrick nodded at Catherine as he rose from the couch. He gathered up the plates from the coffee table, making his way to the kitchen while Catherine answered her phone. "Willows."
She'd never heard the voice on the other end before. However, Grissom had. "Hello, Catherine. How are you?"
Catherine's voice was tinted with an air of caution as she continued. "I'm sorry. Who is this?"
"Oh, I apologize. I'm being terribly rude." The voice continued, a hint of casualness evident. "I called earlier for Grissom. You might have seen my handiwork in the morgue."
Catherine could feel the hairs on her arms begin to stand up. "What did Robbins do to deserve what you did to him, you sick freak."
"Manners, Catherine. Or I won't let you speak to her."
Her voice wavered as she spoke. "What are you talking about?" She heard a slight rustle on the other end before the voice came back into range.
"Honey, come over here. I have someone that wants to talk to you."
Another slight rustle, and then the voice. "Mom?"
In a matter of seconds, the fear of God was instilled in Catherine, her voice frantic now. "Lindsey?"
"Mom, please come and get me. Please…"
"Lindsey?!?"
She could hear another bout of rustling, her breath caught in her throat. Then, the voice. "Don't worry, mommy. I haven't done anything to her." A slight pause before the voice spoke again. "Yet."
"Why are you doing this? Lindsey has nothing to do with this. Please, just let her go. You can take me. Just let her go. Please, for the love…"
"You're babbling now, Ms. Willows. It's not becoming of you."
"You son of a bitch."
"And what a mouth. Well, if that's your attitude, I guess we're done here."
She didn't realize she was practically screaming into the phone now until she saw Warrick standing in front of her, a worried look on his face. "No, wait! Please! Please. I'll do anything you want. Just…just don't hurt my daughter."
The voice chuckled softly before speaking. "Now, that's what I like to hear. See how much better a conversation can be when both parties are civil?" It took all of her willpower to stop from letting loose with the expletives as she bit her lip. "Now, pay attention, because I'm only going to say this once."
"Okay."
"McCarran International Airport. Departure level. One hour."
Catherine looked at Warrick, confusion evident in her voice. "I don't understand. You want to meet there?"
"In a manner of speaking." The voice paused for a moment before continuing. "A trade of sorts."
"What kind of trade?"
She could almost picture the person on the other end of the phone smiling as he spoke. "I give you Lindsey, and in return, you give me Warrick Brown." She could feel the gravity in the words now. "Come alone. Tell anyone other than Mr. Brown about this conversation, I'll kill Lindsey. I see anyone else other than you and Mr. Brown, I'll kill Lindsey. Are we clear?"
Her voice cracked as the tears began to cloud her vision. "Ye…yes."
"One hour, Catherine." The line went dead, Catherine still holding the phone next to her ear. She only stirred when Warrick kneeled next to her.
"Cath. What's wrong?"
Unfortunately for Warrick, she didn't know how to possibly begin to answer that question.
To be continued