Chapter 10

It was ten a.m. when Grissom entered his office…almost twenty-four hours since Sara walked out the same door. A busy shift provided no opportunity to dwell on what had happened but now, taking a seat behind his desk and seeing her pager in the same spot she had left it, his focus shifted from professional to personal.

Was Sara okay? What was she doing at this moment? What would she be doing today? The questions sped through his curious mind. Would she spend time with Mike? The last question triggered his memory…the death certificate.

While powering up his laptop Grissom heard a knock on the door. It was Catherine. Since she already knew about his covert search, he motioned for her to enter.

"Hey." Collapsing into one of the side chairs she groaned. "Some night, huh?" Wincing she slipped off her black leather flats. Not a good night to break in these new shoes." Gingerly she massaged her toes. "My feet haven't hurt this bad since I wore stilettos. I hate Ecklie for suspending Sara, we could have been done hours earlier if she was working with us. How many times did I warn you not to make enemies, Gil. Ecklie has it out for you. I wouldn't be surprised if he took the GHB just so he could blame you and Sara. I'm convinced he'll stop at nothing to bring you down and break up this team." Finally she noticed Grissom wasn't listening to a word she said. "What has you so intrigued on that laptop?"

Turning the laptop toward Catherine he pointed at the screen. "Check the cause of death."

Forgetting her aching toes for a moment she studied the screen. "Drowning. The DB from the Lucky Seven?"

"No." Concern overwhelmed his expression. "This is Beth Rodgers' death certificate…Mike's wife. She didn't die from breast cancer, she drowned…while boating. It was ruled accidental. So why the breast cancer lie?" Sliding the laptop back he busied himself pointing and clicking.

"Hmm. That is a bit odd." Sitting back in the chair she pondered aloud. "Can you pull up a local newspaper and see if they covered the story?"

With a cocky smile he informed her, "I'm already there."

"Of course you are."

Once again he turned the laptop towards Catherine and silently they took in the details. The headline read Dallas Woman Drowns in Sailing Accident and right below was a photo of Officer Mike Rodgers, his face filled with despair and his clothes drenched.

Sighing, Catherine sat back against her chair. "Tough break. He gets knocked out while trying to secure the boom, she goes overboard and when he comes to he can't find her. He must have been frantic. The Coast Guard said he almost died looking for her…" For a moment her thoughts carried her back to the night Eddie died. "Loss is never easy no matter the circumstances."

Without emotion, Grissom, repeated his original question. "So why the breast cancer lie?"

"Huh?" Catherine re-emerged from her own thoughts. "Maybe he says cancer because it's easier than the truth. You know…he's a cop…he saves people for a living so how would it look if he couldn't save his own wife? He moves to Vegas to get away from his shame. He's not going to tell the cops here the real story because they'd look down on him… there is the delicate male ego to consider. And since he already told everyone here that his wife died from cancer, when he met Sara he couldn't tell her the truth; at least not until they were closer and he felt he could trust her."

After considering her theory for a minuteGrissom replied with one of his own. "Maybe he's hiding something. We don't know the state of their marriage at the time or if there was insurance money. We don't have all the evidence. Maybe he didn't want to save his wife. He doesn't seem to have a problem forgetting her, he's moving right along with...."

"It's been a year not a week! You may find it hard to believe but a lot of people don't like to be alone. Even after grieving, it's basic instinct to seek out companionship. Some people need human touch to survive." Shrugging she resumed her foot massage. "Isn't that one of the reasons why prostitution is the oldest profession?"

Without acknowledging her anthropological explanation, Grissom pressed on. "We know for a fact he's a liar."

"The chili dog again?" A frustrated sigh prefaced her next question. "You want to tell Sara, go ahead."

"How can I not tell her? One lie is an anomaly but two lies is the beginning of a pattern." Rising from his chair he walked around and leaned on the edge of his desk. "He's lying to her and she deserves to know."

Catherine fell silent as she remembered the day Sara found out that Hank Peddigrew had been dishonest with her. Sara didn't say much about the incident when they shared a couple of beers after work but Catherine knew she was hurting and she sensed it wasn't the first time Sara had been betrayed. After getting burned once or twice or six times, all lies, no matter how small, are unacceptable; Catherine knew that better than anyone. She wanted to believe that Mike would have innocent explanations for his inconsistencies but her experience with the often duplicitous male species suggested otherwise.

On the other hand, maybe Mike was Sara's chance at happiness and what right did anyone have to ruin it before it even really began. Trying to appeal to Grissom's logical side Catherine explained, "Here's the problem…"

Grissom slipped into the chair beside Catherine to listen.

"If you tell her, it's going to come across as…I mean how are you going to explain knowing this stuff without it looking like…she's going to think you were spying on him to find something to get him out of the picture." Studying his eyes she waited for a reply.

"If it were you with Mike instead of Sara, I'd tell you."

Chuckling at herself she shook her head. "Yeah? Where the hell were you when that last son of a bitch was lying to me daily? That reminds me…" Standing up she returned her battered toes to her painful shoes. "I need to go home and get some sleep because I have a date tonight…you do remember it's my scheduled night off, right? This guy, as far as I can tell hasn't lied to me yet but then again I just met him yesterday while shopping with Lindsay." Before turning for the door she put her hands on her hips and gave her final thought. "Call Sara if it makes you feel better but be prepared for her to shoot the messenger. Good luck."

"Good luck with your date." Secretly he wondered how she so easily exposed herself to potential heart ache time and time again. After everything she's been through why hasn't she given up by now? Hasn't she learned anything? Vegas is a town where the odds are against you. Hitting it big was next to impossible and even if you were one of the lucky few who managed to hit, it was only a matter of time before you sat back powerless and watched it all slip right back through your fingers.

Picking up the phone, Grissom pressed Sara's speed-dial code. While he waited for her to answer he printed off copies of the death certificate and the newspaper article.

After three rings a harsh tone beeped and a wireless company recording blared, I'm sorry but the subscriber you are trying to reach is unavailable.

Disconnecting, he re-punched Sara's code ,this time making sure it was the correct number. Three rings later the same obnoxious message played. I'm sorry but the subscriber you are trying to reach is unavailable. However accurate the message, it was unfamiliar and quite unwelcome.

Hanging up he quickly punched in her home number. After four rings her voice mail picked up. Sidle, please leave a message after the tone. "Umm…Sara, it's Grissom, I was supposed to have you sign some suspension paperwork before you left." He struggled to sound unaffected. "We don't need Ecklie breathing fire again so when you get this message call me and I'll run the paperwork over to you since you can't come into the lab. I…I tried your cell and it wasn't working and your pager is here so…so call me when you get this message." Without a proper goodbye he disconnected.

The sound of the printer releasing documents caught his ear and he reached over to retrieve them. With Sara out of touch, suddenly Mike's lies took a decidedly ominous tone.

"Hey." Brass strolled in Grissom's office. "Did Nick tell you about the poisoning at Ticchino's?"

Lost in thought Grissom finally looked up and saw Jim standing in front of his desk. "Food poisoning?"

"Yep." Brass helped himself to a chair. "The wife poisoned her husband's food. She thought she could pin it on the cook. Total amateur. Had the stuff in her purse and a million dollar insurance policy at home. Just confessed. Said she got pissed because hubby was running around with a stripper from The Satin Saddle. She wanted him to pay…now so will she.." Loosening his tie he scoffed, "Just another Vegas love story." Checking his watch he asked, "You off the clock? Wanna grab some breakfast?"

"I do." Tucking the documents into his jacket pocket he grabbed his keys. "But I need to ask you a favor first."

"You…asking a favor?" Brass was intrigued as he stood to join his friend. "What is it?"

"I wouldn't ask if someone wasn't in potential danger." Grissom checked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. "I need some information on a new cop; where he went to school, previous employment, any red flags."

Brass stiffened. "You want me to check out a cop and report back to you?" It clearly went against the unwritten code. "You looking for something in particular? I'm going to need more information before I can make a decision. Which case and which cop are we talking about?"

"It's not case related." Reluctantly Grissom offered more. "The cop…he's involved with one of my staff and I know he is lying about some things. I want to check to see if he's hiding something bigger."

Chuckling, Brass leaned against the wall. "A guy involved with one of your staff and you're concerned. Since it is a male cop I'm assuming we can eliminate Warrick, Nick and even Greg. Hmm…let me guess, it's Catherine?" His eye roll spoke volumes.

"Does it matter who it is as long as you know whoever it is she is being lied to and could be in danger?"

"Danger?" Brass' sarcastic grin faded. "What kind of danger?"

Without a word Grissom appealed to his friend.

Now curious as well, Brass relented. "Give me his name."

"Thank you." An appreciative smile appeared on Grissom's face. "Breakfast is on me."

"You bet it is."