Chapter 11

Grissom was sitting at the restaurant counter sipping coffee when Brass strolled in with a large white envelope in hand. "I got your info."

"And…" With anxious eyes he watched Brass pull out the paperwork.

"He's clean." Tossing the papers on the counter Brass took a seat. "Not a single blemish in eighteen years."

Grissom scoured the papers like a crime scene. "Graduated UNLV then moved to Colorado Springs where he attended the police academy, stayed there for six years then moved to San Diego for five before moving to Dallas. Stayed there six years before returning to Vegas last year."

Pouring cream into his coffee Brass commented on the summary. "Explains why he's never moved up in the force. He's always starting over."

Puzzled by the findings Grissom kept staring at the papers. "He has a perfect record but he keeps leaving jobs. Why?"

"Variety?" Brass folded the cream into his black coffee. "Some people are restless and need a change of scenery every few years. Maybe, unlike you, this guy works to live instead of living to work. He works, does his job well, and when things get boring he moves on to a new locale." Placing his wet spoon on a napkin Brass grabbed his mug. "I can tell you're not buying that explanation."

Grissom floated a rhetorical question to preface his point. "Tell me again why you left New Jersey?" By Brass's expression he knew his point was duly noted. "People usually leave because they are leaving something behind."

"So I guess that's why you've been able to stay in Vegas for nearly twenty years…no risk, no pain, no reason to leave." Brass paused for a sip of coffee.

Dropping the personal angle, Grissom said, "When I walk into a suspect's home and at first glance everything looks perfect…too perfect…that's the moment I know I'm looking in the right spot. Beyond the perfect outward appearance there's always something waiting to be discovered. On paper, this cop looks perfect."

Setting down his mug Brass grumbled. "I'm eating breakfast alone, aren't I?"

"Sorry." Pulling out his wallet Grissom tossed a twenty on the counter and stuffed the papers in his jacket pocket. "I need to head over to UNLV and start at the beginning."

"Gil…" Brass debated sharing this last bit of information unsure if it would help or hurt. "One more thing…I wanted tosee Rodgers but when I went to track him down I found out he took a week's vacation starting today. No one had any specific information on his plans." Brass was well aware that Sara had been suspended yesterday and wondered if Officer Rodgers sudden vacation plans were somehow connected to Sara's spontaneous availability. "I thought you should know."

Masking his feelings Grissom nodded, "Thanks for the information."

Stepping into her third floor room at Lakeshore Lodge & Spa, Sara set her suitcase and knapsack down before shutting the door behind her. Immediately her attention was drawn to the panoramic lake view and she darted past the lodge pole bed for the balcony. Sliding the door open she filled her lungs with fresh air and her eyes with new scenery.

Pleased with what she saw she applauded her acceptance of Mike's offer to get away from the city. He was right; this was just what she needed. Here, in nature's glory, maybe she would be able to forget about work and forget about…"

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. "Sara."

"One minute." Closing the sliding glass door she crossed the room to answer. When she opened the door there was Mike smiling and holding two beers.

"Wanna kick back and enjoy the view?" He extended an amber bottle while waiting for her answer.

"Sure." Shutting the door to her room she joined him in the hall. "From the dock, okay? Living in the desert for the last four years I'm craving some water."

Clinking his bottle against hers he toasted. "Here's to a relaxing vacation…no crime…no work…just fun."

"Sounds perfect." Sara raised her bottle and took a sip while wondering if she remembered how to relax and even if she did, could she possibly sustain the foreign state for an entire week.

Sitting in his car in the UNLV parking lot, Grissom tried Sara's cell and once again heard the same undesirable message. I'm sorry but the subscriber you are trying to reach is unavailable. Several hours had passed since he left the message on her voicemail. This wasn't like her.

Since Sara arrived in Vegas she was always reachable; if she wasn't in the lab, she was just a page or a phone call away. The longest she had ever taken to respond to him was two hours. He remembered it well. It was her day off and she had gone to Pahrump with Hank Peddigrew. When she finally arrived on the scene he barked at her for taking so long. That's how it always worked…when he needed her he'd call and she'd come running but when she needed him…that's when he went running.

Flashing back to Sara's heated words the day before, Grissom heard her echo. 'You don't want me in your personal life and yet you still don't want me to have one of my own. How selfish are you? You need to let me go'. She was right. If he wouldn't risk being with her then he had no right to expect her to remain close. It was amazing she had put up with his controlling behavior for this long.

So many times he had wanted to take a chance with her but every time his instinct for self-preservation kicked into overdrive. The instinct ran deep and after all these years it was as necessary to his survival as air and water. With a life force of its own, it frequently vetoed his desires.

Around the lab he often said, people lie, the evidence never does. Decades ago, when he first heard this quote, was the day he chose science over people. Science was safe…something you could rely on to provide answers. People, on the other hand, were dangerous; they only left you with questions.

From an early age he learned that people are capable of all kinds of surprises; even the ones closest to you could disappoint, disconnect and disappear. His first teachers were his parents and over the years several others reinforced these lessons in human nature until one day he realized he had acquired more than enough first-hand knowledge.

As the years passed he consistently counted on science instead of people and rather than build relationships he spent his time building a wall. Being human, every once in a while he would feel compelled to move beyond the self-imposed border but always with someone safe…someone with whom he'd never really connect…someone who would never fit into his life and would be gonequickly.

Then Sara came along and he felt an instant connection. Over time he knew she could be the perfect fit. The knowledge terrified him, for if Sara was capable of tearing down his wall…she was also the one who could tear him apart. So in spite of his yearnings, he stayed on guard and when needed, he fought to keep her out.

But now, cradling his silent cell phone, thinking of her and hoping she would call, he knew he had failed. Although he couldn't pinpoint when or how, Sara had obviously infiltrated his defenses.

Glancing out the window towards the UNLV library he questioned his motive for being here. Was he here because he truly believed Sara was in danger or was he the one really in peril?

Sitting on the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the lapping water, Sara experienced a small dose of serenity. "I don't think I realized how much I missed the water." Turning to Mike who was sitting about a foot away, she said, "I never wanted to live anywhere more than a half hour from the beach."

"Then why did you move to Vegas?" Finishing his beer he put the bottle aside.

"As a favor to a friend I came out to help on a high profile case. It was supposed to be temporary…" Staring ahead at the water her voice faded. "…but when asked to stay, I felt compelled to oblige." Hugging her knees to her chest she recalled the moment.

Walking through the parking lot with Grissom, Sara flashed a cocky grin. "When I return home in a week how will you survive without me?" Covering her real agenda, she added, "The lab is so busy and you're short on resources."

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to find out."

Her ears perked along with her curiosity. "Oh really. How?"

"By keeping you here." Smiling, he popped the question. "The lab really needs you, Sara. How about moving to Vegas? Best lab in the country."

"Well…I'll have to give it some thought."

Lowering his voice, he began to plead his case. "I really hope you'll…"

"Okay, I'll stay."

"Sara? Are you chilly?" Mike proceeded to remove his leather jacket. "Here…put this on."

"Oh…yeah, I caught a chill from the lake breeze I guess." Slipping her arms into the jacket sleeves, she smiled politely. "Thanks."

"Wait a sec." Mike carefully reached into his left jacket pocket. "My sunglasses. They're my favorite pair and I'm sort of obsessed about them. It's not a vanity thing. My mom got them to me for my birthday right before she passed away." As he put them on he sighed. "You know, Sara, maybe Vegas is where you needed to be for a while but now you're getting ready for a change. That might explain why you say you're so stressed lately. Personally I've moved around quite a bit and I like it. I get antsy staying in one place too long."

"Yeah, maybe that's it." Moving beyond her introspective mode, Sara asked, "so…any ideas for some outdoor adventures?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I put some brochures in the inside pocket of my jacket." Chuckling, he said, "In order to avoid a major personal space violation I think you should grab them."

"Thanks." Laughing she reached in and pulled out the brochures, handing them to Mike.

Dangling the first one he announced, "I know just how to get you to relax."

"You do, huh?" While perusing the brochure she listened.

I'm going to take you fishing." He chuckled lightly. "Nothing will teach you to calm down like waiting forever for a big fish to jump on your hook."

Laughing at her own inside joke, Sara replied, "I've tried it. It has the opposite effect on me. I'll pass. I'm ready for something different."

"Okay fishing is out." Pointing to the second brochure, he said, "Then check out this hike. It's looks amazing."

Inside the UNLV library reference room, Grissom loaded the first strip of microfiche. The college hadn't gotten around to scanning old documents for computer upload so microfiche was the only way to read decades-old copies of The Rebel Yell, the school's student newspaper. Considering the advanced technology they had in the lab it was easy to forget there was a time not long ago when things weren't immediately accessible via computer.

An hour later, Grissom loaded the last of the microfiche and readied himself for a dead end. It was the last semester prior to Rodgers' graduation; Spring 1981. Speeding through the pages, a headline finally caught his eye. UNLV Mourns the Loss of Samantha Hatcher. Focusing the machine on the details of the article, Grissom froze. Samantha, a Junior at UNLV died January 15th while hiking in Red Rock with her boyfriend, Mike Rodgers, UNLV Senior.