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 III.
Status: Finished
"Grissom, we might have a problem."
Grissom looked up from his desk, Nick standing in the doorway. "What's up, Nicky?"
"Might be nothing, but I can't get a hold of Catherine. Wanted to check out something from the tapes that Greg and I pulled up, but she's not answering her phone, home or cell."
"She might have just turned it off. She told me she was going to see Warrick during her dinner break." Grissom turned away from Nick, picking up his phone. He punched in some numbers, the receiver nestled in the crook of his neck. "Warrick's not answering either." He hung up the phone, picking it up almost immediately as he dialed another number. "Yes, operator. This is Gil Grissom over at the crime lab. Could you please connect me with the officers currently at Warrick Brown's residence? Thank you." Another moment. "Officer, this is Grissom over at the crime lab. Could you do me a favor and check the residence?"
"Sure thing, sir. But we haven't seen anyone enter or exit the house other than CSI Willows."
"She's there now?"
"Should be. Uh, hold on a second." Grissom could hear the officer knock on the door, his voice faint as he spoke. "Mr. Brown, it's Officer Gentry. Just want to know if everything's okay." Another knock. "Mr. Brown?" Grissom could hear the officer moving about now before another voice came into range. Then the officer spoke again. "On three. One. Two. Three!"
Grissom was startled when he heard the loud bang followed quickly by silence. "Officer?" Nothing. Grissom remained on the line, his thoughts beginning to get away from him, thinking the worse. However, his thoughts were interrupted by the officer's voice.
"I don't understand it, sir. But they're not here."
Fifteen minutes ago.
"Catherine, what's wrong?"
She looked at him, tears now streaming from her eyes. She pushed herself past him as she rose from the couch, frantically grabbing her jacket. As she frustrated herself with the sleeve, missing her target two times before sliding her arm through, she spoke. "He's got Lindsey."
"Who…?"
She didn't mean to snap at Warrick, but given the situation, she couldn't help herself. "You know who, dammit! Same sick bastard that cut up Robbins. He's got my Lindsey. He's got my…"
Warrick held her by the shoulders, trying to calm her down as he spoke. "Did he say what he wants?" She turned away, not wanting to look him in the eye. Unfortunately for her, Warrick gently touched her chin, moving her sight back in line with his. "Cath, talk to me. I can't help unless you tell me."
Her voice was stuttered between her sobs. "He…wants…"
"Yeah?"
She could feel her world falling apart. She didn't want to tell him, but he was her only hope of ever seeing Lindsey again. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "He wants…" She closed her eyes, as though this was all a bad dream, before continuing. "You. He wants you." She could feel Warrick's hands go limp as they pulled away from her. She opened her eyes once more to see Warrick standing in front of her, a look of disbelief on his face.
He hung his head slightly, his voice soft as he spoke. "So, how's this supposed to play out?"
Catherine remained still, her voice matching his own. "A trade at McCarran. You for Lindsey. Anyone else shows up, he'll kill her."
"When?"
"An hour from now."
Warrick remained silent as he walked past Catherine and into the living room. Catherine stood for a moment, puzzlement on her face before she followed Warrick into the living room. That's where she saw him throwing on his jacket and fastening his holster to his belt. "Warrick…?"
"We can get out the side window. It's a slight drop to the ground, but the cops outside won't see us. We'll grab a cab once we get out in the open."
"This isn't your problem."
"It became my problem once Lindsey got mixed up in this."
Catherine made her way to Warrick, the tears beginning to come once again. "You don't owe me anything. I'm not going to risk you because of what some madman wants."
Warrick finally looked up, his face calm and collected. "Not your choice. Only reason he has Lindsey is because of me. It's my responsibility to get her back."
That did it. Before she knew what was happening, tears were streaming down her face once again. She moved toward Warrick, her arms encircling his waist as her face pressed against his chest. "I can't lose you, Warrick."
He chuckled softly, his hand gently stroking her hair. "Nothing's going to happen. McCarran's too crowded for this guy to pull anything. We make the trade and then we'll go from there. Okay?" She nodded against his chest, her tears beginning to saturate his shirt.
She looked up at him, a small smile forming. "Okay."
"Alright then. Let's go get your little girl."
Now.
Grissom stood in the living room, his gaze sweeping over the contents of Warrick's space. Nick and Greg continued to survey the other areas of the residence, looking for a clue as to the whereabouts of their MIA CSIs. Grissom took note of the plates now sitting on the bookcase. Odd place for Warrick to place his dishes. So, either Warrick was a slob or he'd been interrupted. He moved toward the couch, the glint from the corner of his eye garnering his attention. Grissom knelt down next to the coffee table to see a metallic object underneath. He reached for the object up carefully, holding it up to the light.
"What you got, Griss?"
He didn't look at Greg as he spoke. "Catherine's badge." Grissom held it toward Greg, the concern evident in his voice. "They were in a rush. Normal circumstances, she'd never leave this behind. Question is, where were they in a rush to?"
"Yo, Grissom!" Grissom and Greg turned toward the sound, Grissom rising from the coffee table. "In the back!" Both men made their way toward Nick's voice, ultimately finding themselves in the bedroom. Upon entering, they could see Nick's hand waving outside the bedroom window. The open bedroom window.
Grissom couldn't help but smile at Warrick's escape. Best way to avoid the cops? Stay out of sight. "Point of exit?"
Nick called out, his voice now a casual tone. "Looks like it. I've got tread marks leading to the road. I lost them once I got out there, though."
"Which means they probably hailed a taxi."
Grissom turned back to Greg, admiring his CSI in training. However, he didn't voice his admiration. Instead, he picked up the bedroom phone, tapping a few keys. "Yes, I need to know if any of your drivers were called out to this area about half an hour ago."
"Thanks. Keep the change." The driver smiled at the generous tip before pulling back out into the travel lane. Warrick turned toward Catherine, her gaze washing over the individuals moving in and out of the airport. Warrick walked over to her, standing by her side. "So, now what?"
Her voice was fatigued. Perturbed. "I don't know. He just said McCarran departure level. Next move is his." She felt his hand gently grasp her free one, a tender squeeze given. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Being you."
Warrick laughed softly, Catherine now reciprocating the squeeze. "We've always got each other's back, right?"
Catherine smiled at him, his words touching her deeply. "Right." Both continued to look at each other, volumes being spoken without the need for words. However, the moment was broken when Catherine's cell phone chimed. Their bond was severed as Catherine fished the phone out of her jacket pocket. No ID on the LCD. She flipped the phone open, holding it up to the side of her face. "Willows."
"Sorry for interrupting the Hallmark moment, but since you're early, I figured we can all go home early."
Her voice was somber as she spoke. "Where are you?"
"Somewhere I can see you."
"Fine. What now?"
The voice remained playful as it answered Catherine's question. "Eyes forward. Delta gate." Catherine did as she was told, looking at the human traffic jam occurring in front of the Delta Airlines entrance. "Next to the sliding doors." Her eyes followed until they fell upon what the voice wanted her to see.
"Lindsey!"
"No sudden moves, Catherine. Just continue following my instructions and we all walk away with what we want."
Catherine resisted the urge to run to Lindsey, instead remaining next to Warrick's side, Warrick looking on with concern toward Lindsey, who apparently hadn't seen them yet. "What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to walk slowly toward Lindsey. Mr. Brown, on the other hand, remains where he stands."
She pulled the phone away from her ear, looking toward Warrick. "He wants me to walk over to Lindsey while you stay here."
Warrick could see the worry in her eyes, so he pulled up the back of his jacket, revealing his service weapon. "Go on. I'll be fine."
She was about to speak, but the voice came across the phone once again. She held the phone back to her ear, the voice speaking. "Now, Catherine. Or I'll kill her right where she stands."
Her voice was frantic. "No! I'm going. See." She began to walk away from Warrick, only looking back once to make sure he was still there.
"Eyes front, Catherine. Mr. Brown's not going anywhere."
"Okay. Okay." She turned her view back toward Lindsey, her steps methodical. She counted the steps in her head as she made her way to Lindsey as a means to keep her mind occupied. As she neared the departure gate for Delta Airlines, Lindsey finally saw her. However, she made no action to move toward her mother.
"Lindsey's a very smart girl. Understood everything I told her in one sitting. Knows that if she moves, I'll kill her mommy."
"You son of a…"
"Used that one already, Catherine. C'mon. Can't you come up with something more original?"
"Okay. How about sadistic motherfu…"
The voice interrupted her with laughter. "Now, that's the girl I've heard about. Almost there, mommy. Slow and steady wins the race and all that rigmarole."
Catherine could see the fear in Lindsey's eyes as she got closer, tears evident on her face. However, no one else noticed the little girl. After all, it was an airport. No one notices anything at an airport. They're too busy trying to get to their next destination that the here and now doesn't matter that much, if at all.
She finally reached Lindsey, kneeling down next to her. Lindsey moved her arms around her mother's neck, Catherine picking her up with her free arm. She finally turned around to face Warrick who was still standing where she had left him.
"See, that wasn't that bad, now was it?"
"What? That's it?" The confusion in Catherine's voice was clearly evident. "That's all you wanted?"
"Almost. Lindsey has an envelope for you. Could you be a dear and ask her for it?"
Catherine turned to the little girl in her arm, her face buried in the crook of her neck. "Lindsey? The man says you have something for mommy." Lindsey looked up slowly, tears streaming down her face. All Catherine wanted to do in that moment was to comfort her daughter. But she had to finish this first. "Can you give me the letter, sweetie?"
Lindsey reached into her jeans pocket, pulling out a folded envelope and holding it out to her mother. Catherine took the envelope from Lindsey before she resumed her position in the crook of Catherine's neck. Then, the voice.
"You have it?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now, read to me what's on the front." Still perplexed, she unfolded the envelope. However, as she read the words in her mind, her breath caught in the back of her throat. "Catherine, please read the words to me or else."
Her voice faltered as she forced the words from her mouth. "Two…down."
"Good girl."
She never heard the phone line go dead. She never heard the rapport of the gun. Instead, all she saw was Warrick's upper torso exploding, a spray of blood escaping his body. It was as though the world had gone into slow motion, Catherine seeing Warrick's body slowly falling to the ground. There was no expression on his face as he fell. Instead, his eyes remained locked with hers until his face hit the pavement.
Then the screams.
The world came back into focus, time moving normally once again. People scattered away from Warrick, airline security as well as police officers trying to make sense of what had just happened. Catherine pushed her way through the crowd, Lindsey holding on tighter as her sobs became more evident. Catherine kneeled next to Warrick, her hands on Lindsey's.
"Let go, baby. I need to look at Warrick." Nothing. "Baby, please!" She didn't mean to yell at Lindsey, but it had gotten the job done. Lindsey remained close to Catherine, her hands in her pockets. Catherine turned back to Warrick, turning him over onto his back. The front of his shirt was soaked in the blood that now began to pool beneath him, his breathing shallow. Catherine placed her hand over the wound as she applied pressure, looking around until she finally saw a police officer moving in her direction. She didn't wait for him to get to her. "Call 911! Now!"
The officer pulled the radio from his shoulder strap, the words lost on Catherine. Instead, she continued to put pressure on the wound, her hands now an amalgamation of flesh and blood. "Don't you die on me, Warrick!" She didn't know if the sobs were coming from Lindsey or herself. It didn't really matter at that point. "Please…"
"Catherine?"
She looked up to see Grissom, Nick and Greg standing in front of her. Lindsey's head lay in her lap as she yearned to be close to her mother, Catherine gently stroking her daughter's hair. Catherine's voice was monotone as she spoke. "He's in the OR right now. No word yet." She held her free hand out, the envelope speckled with Warrick's blood. "He left another note."
Grissom motioned to Greg, who quickly caught on. He instinctively pulled out a pair of latex gloves from his pocket before handling the envelope. "I'll see what I can come up with." With that, he began to make his way to the parking lot. However, Nick called out to him, stopping him in his tracks.
"I'll be there in a bit." Nick motioned to Lindsey, Greg getting the hint.
"Alright. See you back at the shop." With that, he disappeared around the corner, Nick kneeling in front of Lindsey.
"Hey, Linds. Wanna grab a bite?" She looked up at her mother, Catherine nodding in kind. Lindsey slowly sat up, Nick holding his hand out to the little girl. "Let's see if the cafeteria has anything edible, yeah?"
Grissom nodded at Nick before sitting next to Catherine. "So, what happened?"
"Bastard took my little girl, Grissom. And now Warrick's…" She couldn't finish the thought, instead beginning to shake. Grissom instinctively draped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. "It's all my fault. It's all my fault."
"You're not the bad guy here, Cath. The guy that shot Warrick; stabbed Robbins. He's the bad guy. And we'll get him."
Catherine laughed harshly, never looking at Grissom as she spoke. "You really believe that?"
He never hesitated as he spoke. "Yes, I do." For some reason, his words put her at a sense of ease. "Mind if I wait with you?"
She spoke softly, the anger in her voice now replaced with fatigue. "I should take Lindsey home."
"I'll call Sara. She and Brass should be done with the security company by now. If you don't mind, that is."
She shook her head slowly before resting it against Grissom's shoulder. Grissom gently squeezed Catherine's shoulder again, both waiting for the news on Warrick's condition.
Greg hated the fact that his parking spot was so far away from the building. However, with his eventual promotion to full-fledged CSI, he'd be closer to the building. A definite perk, to say the least. Being in the field was good and all, but a better parking space. That was pure icing, baby.
His car pulled into the parking lot, the lot almost vacant. Only night shift was on the scene at the moment. The day shift wouldn't come rolling in for at least another hour or so. Greg turned off the car radio before pulling the key from the ignition. He then reached to the passenger seat, grabbing the now bagged envelope that had been acquired from the airport. To say he was nervous was an understatement.
Last envelope had tagged Warrick as the next to be taken out of action. And, if this lunatic was methodical, Greg now held the answer to who would be next. But, he brushed the thought off. Robbins was the head coroner. Warrick was next in line to take Grissom's place. Who was he? A CSI in training slash lab technician. Compared to the others, he was low man on the totem pole. As disturbing as his logic was, it also brought a sense of ease to him as well. In any case, Nick would arrive soon. As long as he had someone to talk to, his mind could stop conjuring up these stupid what ifs.
Greg stepped out of the car, placing the bagged envelope on the roof. As he slid the key into the car door, he heard a noise behind him. Before he had a chance to turn around, he felt his head slam against the roof of the car, a gloved hand covering his mouth. Once, twice. He lost count as his vision became blurred, the pain becoming unbearable. He felt the pain explode across his midsection, down his sides, before he realized he was now on the ground. He tried to speak, but instead was rewarded with a sharp pain coursing through his head. Before Greg lost consciousness, one thought kept on repeating in his mind.
Lunatics aren't methodical.
Unfortunately for Greg, he never got the chance to process the envelope from the airport. However, given his current situation, he could have made an educated guess as to who was next. As for the person after him, that was a different matter. That task would most likely fall to Hodges as the new envelope lay on Greg's back, the message clearly evident.
THREE DOWN…To be continued
