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Chapter Eleven: Interrogation
Greg fought off another yawn, his eyes flicking from Sara to the clock, raising his head some in order to see the time. It was nearly eight; Sara had fallen asleep again only minutes after calming her down. Greg could tell by the way she had relaxed, her breathing light and easy, rather than tight and strained as it was when she first laid down next to him.
As he had promised, he stayed awake that night, but once asleep, Sara hadn't stirred. Greg wished the same was for him. He was beyond exhaustion. The last few days had not gone very well in his opinion. It had taken a toll on both of them. It had been harder on Sara; he could see that easily enough. He couldn't help but worry over her, and it only seemed to drain him even more.
He closed his eyes, laying his head back down next to Sara's. He was so tired. It felt as though he could sleep for two days straight. He opened his eyes again when there was a knock on the door. Groaning he raised his head, looking as if he could see the person there, but of course, he would have to get up before that happened.
"Sara," he nudged her gently. "Come on Sara, wake up."
She groaned, muttering something as she turned away from him, her eyes still closed.
Greg laughed softly, "Why? Well, for starters, I can't feel my arm anymore, and secondly, someone's at the door."
He watched as she opened her eyes, blinking a few times as his words registered. Then, without warning, she sat up quickly, moving to get up; but becoming entangled in the sheets at the same time, she fell directly to the floor. Greg moved to catch her, holding onto her arm as he pushed himself up to a sitting position.
"You okay?" Greg asked, relived to find that she was laughing.
"Yeah," she smiled up at him, kicking her feet free of the mess as he let her go. She grimaced, standing up. "They need to make these floors softer," she complained.
Greg laughed along with her as he climbed out of bed, rubbing his arm as he made his way to the door as Sara went into the bathroom. It took a moment for Greg to unlock the door, poking his head out in order to keep as much heat inside as possible.
He was surprised to see Randolph standing outside, Greg moved to invite him inside, but the detective just shook his head. "I'm just here to let the both of you know you need to be down at the town house in an hour."
Greg frowned, "Why? Is something wrong?"
"Just don't be late," Randolph told him quietly. There was something else in his voice that Greg nearly missed; concern.
Greg watched the detective walk away, there hadn't even been a goodbye said, he had just left. Closing the door he made his way to the couch, sitting down with a sigh. Sara was leaning against the bathroom door, in the process of brushing her teeth. She had wanted to do so last night, but never really got the chance.
"Who was that?" she asked, or at least he thought she asked, she was somewhat hard to understand.
"Detective Randolph," Greg said quietly, chewing on his thumbnail. He had a bad habit of doing that when he was nervous. Sara knew that as well.
"What's wrong?" she asked, disappearing back into the bathroom.
"I don't know," Greg commented, "he wouldn't say. We need to get down to the townhouse though, by nine."
Sara came back out, using a towel to wipe her face. "That building next to our class?" Sara asked. Greg nodded. "Why?"
Greg let out a long sigh, "I don't know," he said slowly; somewhat irritated he had to answer the question twice. He wondered if Sara expected his answer to change within minutes.
"Well, don't get mad at me," Sara said testy.
Greg shook his head, "I'm not, I mean, I'm sorry. I'm really tired right now, and I have a bad feeling about all of this."
Sara sat down next to him, resting her elbows on her knees as she watched him. "I know," she told him, "I didn't mean for you to stay awake all night though. But it meant a lot."
Greg shrugged, leaning back against the cushion. "I don't mind, but if I don't get some sleep soon I'll end up sleeping during class."
"Doesn't sound like that bad of an idea," Sara joked, smiling when she was able to get Greg to laugh.
He nodded, "We should get ready," he told her, standing. "Randolph said not to be late."
They didn't take long, leaving early in order to find the town house. It was their first time inside, being twenty minutes early Sara and Greg were welcomed inside into a small waiting room. The edgy feeling Greg had early only increased with the passing minutes. No one spoke to them during that time; it was as if the pair was invisible. Then as nine o'clock came around, they were greeted by detective Stiles, Neff and Randolph, who led them to a different enclosed room. It wasn't much different than their own interrogation room back at the lab.
"What is this all about?" Greg asked, taking a seat near Sara. The three detectives had sat down across from them, talking quietly amongst themselves before Stiles turned to Sara, standing back up.
"Miss Sidle, would you come with me please?"
Sara gave him a questioning look, turning to Greg who had the same expression. He nodded, and Sara followed him with a frown. Once the door closed, Detective Neff spoke up.
"We are here to determine whether Sidle's fall down the mountain was accidental, or the effect of coercion inflicted before the fall."
Greg's jaw nearly hit the table. "What?"
"The bruising on Sidle's face is not consistent with a fall," Neff continued, but Randolph cut him off.
"Jim, please, we don't know that yet," the older man told him. Randolph focused his attention back on Greg, his tone lighter this time. "We are just following procedure, you understand."
Greg said nothing, only letting out a sigh as he crossed his arms. He wondered if Sara was watching this, wondering if she was just as angry, or worse, angrier.
"Our records indicate you started a fight a few days back," Neff continued after a moment of silent, pushing a paper towards him.
Greg didn't even look at it, instead holding an even gaze with the detective. "I did not start the fight. They engaged first."
"But you still were in a fight, yes?"
Greg nodded, "What does that have to do with this?"
"Well," Neff said slowly, "It shows that you loose your temper easily."
"Some guy takes a swing at the both of us, what am I supposed to do? Stand there and let them beat us up? I'm going to defend myself." His tone was getting irate, Greg could tell by the way Randolph shifted in his chair. Neff however didn't take his eyes off the young CSI.
"You still fought back, and that looks bad on your record. You wouldn't want your supervisor to know that, would you?"
"Are you blackmailing me?" Greg asked, incredulous.
Randolph waved the two of them off. "No, we are not," the detective stated, sitting up. Jim interfered before he could say another word though.
"So you want to tell us what happened?"
"My story is not going to change, I gave you the truth, and if you don't believe that, then I'm sorry, I can't help you anymore."
Randolph nodded, his facial expression telling Greg that he understood. Believed him? Maybe not, but at the very least understood him.
But it was apparent that Jim Neff wasn't going to back down. "Let me tell you the way I see it. The two of you go on a hike, let out some steam. Sara is your equal now, you can't dominate her like you normally do, but out away from town, you can really let your frustrations free. Remind her of her place in your, so called relationship. You don't want her to get cocky, don't want her to think things are changing because of the situation you are in. So you give her a few smacks, and she fights back. Something you were not expecting, and in the process, the both of you fall down the mountain side. Perfect story of what happened, and finding the DB was a perk, it would draw attention away from your 'accident'."
Greg could only shake his head the entire time, his expression changing from one of bewilderment to resentment as the detective continued on.
Next to him Randolph tried to intervene several times, but Jim was on a roll now, and it was apparent he wasn't going to stop.
"You know, its people like you that really tick me off, once we get a confession from you, and from Sara, I will lock you away for life. If you don't believe me, then just try."
A slamming of a fist on the table startled both Greg and Neff, turning to see a very livid Randolph. "Detective, outside, now." He spoke each word slowly, the fury behind them evident. Jim hadn't taken it very well either, as he scooted back sharply, Randolph following behind closely, the door slamming shut with some force.
Greg drew in a deep breath, holding it for some time before letting it out in one long stream of air. This was a complete mess, and it was his entire fault. He should have never suggested the hike. Dropping his head into his hands as he yawned, Greg waited, seeing that it was all he could do.
The lab had taken a massive change since the last week. Grissom knew that it was because both Sara and Greg were gone, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what was missing, other than his two CSI's. Compensating for them wasn't that hard, they hadn't worked fully on a case for near seven months now, swing still covered for them when the got busy.
Grissom hadn't even left his office that night to see how busy they were. He was still contemplating over the phone call he had received a few hours ago. A knock on the door caused him to look up, nodding to Catherine who was standing outside.
"Hey Casper," she smiled at him, "When you want to disappear, you really do disappear. I've been paging you all night."
"I know," Grissom said, ignoring the look she gave him as she sat down across from him.
"Any reason why you're in hiding?"
He glanced at her for a moment, then back down at his desk. "I got a call from Oregon today," he started.
When he didn't continue, she raised an eyebrow. "Okay, this means what exactly?"
"From the Officer convention, in the mountains."
"Ohh," she nodded, "the one Greg and Sara are at? Yeah, I forgot that's where they were. So they finally check in on us huh? How are they doing?"
His silence wasn't very reassuring, and she had to prompt him to continue. Letting out a sigh, Grissom looked back up at her for a moment. "Greg's being held in interrogation, on abuse charges over Sara."
Catherine said nothing, her mind trying to process all the words, and the simple fact that they were all in the same sentence. "You want to run that by me again?"
"Sara called at noon, rather pissed. She talked, actually she yelled, at me for about an hour. They were brought in for questioning, Sara thought it was over the DB they found up on the trails. But when they only wanted to talk with Greg, Sara got to asking around, and they told her that they were working on an abuse case."
"That doesn't make any sense," Catherine said, shaking her head. "I mean, I know they were snappy when they left, but Greg, hitting Sara? That seems a little, implausible. I've never seen Greg hit anything more than a fly in all the years I've known him."
Grissom nodded in agreement. "I was more worried about Sara hurting Greg," he admitted, "Not physically of course, though I wouldn't doubt she'd be able to tear his head off if he got her angry enough. But she has a pretty good knack of getting under his skin."
"So," Catherine said after Grissom made the statement, "What is going on then?"
"I don't know," Grissom admitted, "I talked to one of the lead detectives there, Larry Stiles, told him what I knew of Greg. He said it was standard procedure, which I'm sure it is, but I don't think that it's blowing over to well for the two."
"Don't worry," Catherine told him with a smile as she stood, "Everything will be fine. Besides that, if they even think of pressing charges, I'll give them a piece of my mind."
Grissom smiled, laughing quietly. "In that case, I'll leave it up to you to fix things if they get messy."
"You already do," she pointed out as left the room.
Greg rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, yawning as he did so. Stretching his legs out under the table, he laid his head back against the chair, sliding down far enough that he was comfortable. There was no clock in the room, no windows, and the door was solid wood. Three thin strips of lights hanging from the ceiling were the only source of light. There was no possible way to tell how long he had been in here. The only thing he knew for certain was that it had been a long time.
During this time, they had come back in, questioning him some more. Greg did his part, but quickly grew tired of the idle threats, and bias questions, and refused to answer when he felt they crossed the line.
He had only left the room once since he had arrived, after making a request to use the restroom. Jim had outright refused, which didn't surprise Greg, but Randolph escorted him there, and straight back afterwards. He also hadn't seen Sara since that morning, and was becoming worried, wondering if she was being put through the same treatment. It was unfair, they treated criminals better than this back at their own lab.
Randolph had been generous enough to bring by some food for him, but Greg hadn't felt like eating. Slowly the questions died down, and Greg found himself alone now. He had been like this for most of the time. At the moment, he was trying his hardest not to fall asleep. Although it sounded so welcoming.
He glanced up as the door opened, Sara coming into the room. He sat up quickly as she grabbed his coat and gloves he had taken off during his stay here. "Come on," she told him. "We're going."
"Were have you been?" Greg asked, pulling his coat on, following her out. They passed by Detective Neff, who watched them go with a wary eye.
"Here," Sara said shortly, "Yelling at Grissom, Stiles and about everyone else in this place."
"You called Grissom?" Greg asked, stepping outside with a grimace. It was dark, and they didn't have their flashlights. Sara didn't seem to care as she took the lead; Greg had to run to catch up to her.
"Yes, I called Grissom. He's going to find out sooner or later Greg, and I rather him hear our side first. I just can't believe you sometimes," she snapped.
Greg's steps faltered, "What did I do?" he asked, watching as she turned to him.
"Nothing," she answered.
"Then why are you mad at me?" Greg wondered.
"Because," she stated, "you did nothing."
"Sara," Greg told her softly, "sometimes I wish it was easier to understand you."
"They sat there an accused you of something you didn't do, they downgraded you, harassed you and you let them do it."
"It wasn't like I had a choice Sara," he reminded her, his brows furling.
"Right," she scoffed, "You never stand up for yourself, you let everyone push you around. 'Walk all over me, I don't care', where is your pride?"
"I'm not starting with you Sara," Greg told her sharply, "Let's just get back to the cabin, okay?"
"You see," Sara yelled at him as he started off. "You won't even stand up to me. How you ever got to where you are now is beyond me."
Greg stopped walking, turning back to her. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You know what it means," Sara told him, lowering her voice. "The only way you got out into the field was because of Grissom's favor."
"That is not true," he said quietly, trying to not let her words bother him.
"Yes it is, and you know that it is. Any other supervisor would have flunked you, but because you were the top lab technician, he let you have it. You don't have the ability or the confidence to do this job."
Greg was taken aback, but he was unwilling to show her how much it had hurt him. "Just because your chance of being promoted were dashed, and I had an opportunity doesn't mean you have the right to take it out on me."
"You think that this is what it is all about? That's all you ever think, that when something is wrong, it's never your fault, never your doing. 'Oh blame Sara', Sara's fault, that's it. I can't believe you are being such a jerk about this."
Greg shook his head, more hurt than angry. "You know what, I'm going to go, I need to get out of here before I say something that I'm going to regret."
"Fine, get out of here," Sara yelled at him as he left, "and don't expect to come back," she added, crossing her arms.
"I won't then," he yelled back, disappearing into the night as Sara made her own way back to the cabin.
TBC