Greg stared at the crime scene in horrified fascination. Grissom couldn't blame him: even to his experienced eye, this was a little weird.
A body of a middle-aged man lay sprawled on the stairs, an apparent victim of a savage beating. No murder weapon was in sight. The leather whip lying at the top of the stairs would not have been capable of this kind of devastation, but it did shed some light on the activities in the bedroom.
There, a woman hung from restraints against the wall. Her feet were fixed apart with a metal spreader, and her hands were cuffed above her head to two rings on the wall. She wore a leather hood, and nothing else. The whip had apparently been used on her: her body bore the evidence of several small welts, too apparently superficial to have been the cause of death.
"What happened here?" Greg wondered aloud.
"Sara, would you like to call it?" Grissom asked.
Sara was examining the photographs on the bedside table. The pictures showed the dead couple in happier times, at their wedding, with a small girl, and again with the same child, teenage now. Grissom observed the unmistakable spark of grief in her eyes, and cursed himself for calling attention to her at a vulnerable moment.
"Do we know where the kid is?" Sara asked, her voice brisk and businesslike.
"According to Vega, boarding school in Virginia."
Sara nodded.
"Home invasion gone wrong? He's been dead longer than she has," Sara began thoughtfully, "and her welts had time to form and heal a little, from the looks of things. She has abrasions on her wrists from the handcuffs: signs of struggle." She looked at Greg, raising one brow.
He picked up the narrative tentatively. "So maybe they were getting it on in here, and the murderer interrupted." Greg glanced back to the doorway, as if trying to visualize the husband's path. "The perp killed the husband, and then… Just left her? To die of dehydration? That's…inhuman."
"Because tying up your wife and whipping her is so humane?" Sara's tone was sharp.
"Hey, there's no reason to think this wasn't consensual. Some people like it kinky. Spices things up, right?" Greg looked cheerful at the thought.
Grissom ignored this exchange and focused on the case. "The perp may have thought he was being merciful, Greg. He or she couldn't know no one would come in here for a few days. The woman couldn't ID him with that hood on. Maybe he was trying to spare her."
Greg nodded. Sara had replaced the family pictures. Now she was staring at the woman's body, her lips thinned.
"On the other hand," Grissom continued, "We have no way of knowing yet that this was consensual. Those rings on the wall don't look recently installed, but that doesn't mean they weren't an intentional murder weapon. Let's be very thorough in our printing tonight. Greg, you start with the downstairs. Get the points of entry and check for signs of burglary down there. Print everything."
Greg nodded and departed.
"Sara, you're with me. Process those restraints so we can take her down and let David have her."
Sara nodded and moved toward the woman. Examining the handcuffs she remarked, "These are quality cuffs. Smith and Wesson, double locked. Fairly tight. She didn't have a chance." Her voice was tinged with horror, "Can you imagine being left to die of thirst in your own bedroom?"
"She probably wasn't conscious for most of it, if it helps. They kept this bedroom pretty warm, and it's hard to maintain that position for long. She probably fainted fairly early on. She could even have asphyxiated, in that position. That's why it's not considered safe to leave a bound person unsupervised. Doc will be able to tell us more about what happened."
Sara didn't look cheered. She lifted some prints off the cuffs, and moved down to the spreader. "You, uh, seem to know a lot about it."
It was definitely a question.
"You never know what knowledge set will come in handy on a case." Good answer, Gil.
"Well, maybe you can help me out here, because I don't understand people who get off on other people's pain."
It didn't seem to be an accusation.
"People can choose to do whatever they want in the confines of their own bedroom, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else. Usually, though, it's more about the power than the pain."
"Are you, uh, are you… do you like this kind of thing?" Grissom could hear her jaws click as Sara's mouth snapped shut. She squeezed her eyes closed, obviously mortified. "Never mind. That was inappropriate. It's your business."
But you feel comfortable enough to ask.
Grissom paused before responding. He knew he would have to be very careful here: Sara was obviously uncomfortable with the idea, but he had to be truthful. She was watching him carefully as he formulated his thoughts, and he somehow knew this answer would be very important.
"'To be trusted is a greater compliment than to be loved'," he quoted in a calm voice. "I find trust very attractive, and it takes a great deal of trust to allow yourself to be helpless before your lover."
"It didn't work out well for her," Sara noted.
"It looks like he did his best to protect her," Grissom said. "Sometimes it just isn't possible."
Sara swallowed, and turned back to her kit, continuing the process the scene. Grissom watched for a moment, trying to read her mind through her posture. He could not.
A/N: Grissom's quote is by George Macdonald. I apologize for the slowness of this update. I'm bottom man on the totem pole right now when it comes to computer time. There are only a couple more chapters to come, so the whole story should be wrapped up by the end of the week. Oh, and while I am writing an author's note- a huge thank you to all those who have reviewed. You have made me incredibly happy, and I really appreciate your kind words. Keep in mind, though, I really don't mind if you criticize the story- I'd like to improve on the next one, and your feedback will help.