Cause and Effect: Chapter five
San Francisco, 1994"Witnesses are unreliable, and suspects can change their accounts at any given time. The one, the only thing a criminalist can truly rely on, is the evidence."
Sara sat at the back of the auditorium, permanently captivated by the earnest, exuberant speaker on stage. She was also intrigued by the passion he professed for his vocation. He considered forensics a calling, but unlike her, it wasn't an intent need for justice or to rectify some unfulfilled inner turmoil. It was a calling for Grissom because he loved it. She realised she had never once considered her career in that light, had never had that clarity, and found her new perspective oddly enlightening.
The lecture entered a brief, five-minute respite, and Sara leant back in her chair, eyes idly scanning the sudden movement of the crowd as people got up to get a drink, or speak to others across the room, swept up in a congested flow of anonymous faces.
"He's quite a compelling speaker, don't you think?"
She glanced around in surprise, momentarily confused about whether someone was speaking to her or not, eyes scrutinizing the shadowy rear of the lecture hall to locate the source of the voice.
The speaker was a tall, charming man, with dark, striking features and thick, dark brown hair. He leant casually against the wall beside the exit, and his eyes levelled with hers, shrewdly observing her. He exceeded an air of modest confidence, and smiled at her kindly, features crinkling just enough so that she could estimate his age to be around his early forties.
She frowned slightly, nodding in response when she realised he had indeed, addressed her. "Yeah, ah, he is", she agreed hesitantly.
The chairs beside her along the aisle were empty, and he leaned forward slightly, obviously intrigued by her opinion. "Have you attended all the previous lectures?"
Sara nodded. "Almost all of them so far. They're… interesting. Certainly more diverse than the seminars normally held here".
His mouth twitched slightly. "I agree. I make it a point to attend Dr. Grissom's lectures every year. He usually gets quite a following."
She shifted to glance at him, suddenly glad to share her enthusiasm on the subject with someone equally as interested. "What's different this year?" she asked, surprised.
He shrugged. "Oh, fewer students are interested in criminalistics. The forensics department is lacking in funds. A large number of things".
He chuckled at her doubtful expression, tilting his head in mild amusement. "Perhaps I should introduce myself. Alex Townsend. I'm a professor in the forensics department."
"Oh", she blinked, embarrassed. How was it she always managed to say the wrong things in front of the wrong people? "Uh, you know, I didn't mean to imply that the lectures are usually boring or anything…"
Alex smirked, summarily delighted by her guilty expression. "Oh, please do. I say it all the time. Why do you think I look forward to this lecture so much?"
She had to smile at his frankness. "When you put it like that…"
"Well, girl-who-is-considerably-opposed-to-our-program, unless you would like to be forever known by that name, what should I call you by?"
Sara laughed, extending a hand over the back of her chair. "I'm Sara Sidle".
"Pleasure to meet you. I'm assuming you're not a student at our fair school?"
She shook her head. "Uh, no. I was a few years ago".
He looked museful. "Ah, before my time." He paused, smiling faintly. "Shame".
She glanced at him, but Grissom resumed speaking before she could ponder the comment, and he melded back into the shadows.
Sara gradually turned around in her chair again, forcing herself to poise her pen over her notepad as she struggled to focus on the lecture again, sufficiently charmed and similarly mystified by the professor.
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She knew it would happen sooner or later.
Sara groaned, leaning back heavily on the front fender, wiping her greasy palms vaguely against her jeans.
The car was the bane of her existence, and this time it was definitely not going anywhere forward. This was it. She was done. In the morning, she was trading it in for a newer model. It might be a little outside her regular price range, but she would work overtime for a month just to rid herself of this ridiculous burden.
She glanced fleetingly around the darkened parking lot, shivering slightly from the night breeze as it shifted the palm trees above her. She straightened firmly, outward composure unwilling to portray the fact that the eerie stillness unsettled her.
Okay. So obviously there's no knight in shining armour around to rescue you this time…
She grimaced, wondering where it was to the nearest phone. The campus facilities were all locked up, and the nearest dormitories were a considerable walk away.
Well. What are you going to do now?
"Car trouble?"
She glanced around, realising she hadn't even heard the steady hum of an approaching vehicle.
Gee, you wouldn't want to be caught off-guard or anything.
She blinked when she realised the deep, gentle voice belonged to the charming professor she had met a few short hours ago.
"Oh. Hi", she said, distinctly relieved at his presence, as he steered his car to a halt beside her, engine still running. Call her paranoid, but she wasn't overly eager to wander the campus grounds by herself at night. "Uh, yeah, I think it's finally given in".
"Well, I can't claim to be any sort of mechanic, but would you like me to take a look?" he inquired politely, hands resting casually on the steering wheel as he observed her though the open window.
She sighed, unsurprisingly irritated by his typical male stereotyping. "No, that won't be… necessary. Trust me, I've looked. I think fixing it would require some sort of… blowtorch, and a lot of money I don't have".
Alex smirked, surprising her by showing amusement at her apparent annoyance. "I get the impression you don't appreciate chauvinism", he said dryly. "Noted, and respected."
She felt the corners of her lips turn up in a genuine smile.
"So", he continued casually. "Would you like a ride?"
She hesitated, glancing back at her pitiful car fleetingly. The likelihood of it being stolen were minimal considering how far it would get, and it hardly had any parts worth salvaging. "Sure", she said after a moment. She smiled gratefully. "That would be good."
After all, what's the worst that could happen?
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Las Vegas, 2005
"Is there something you're not telling me?"
Sara jumped, jolting around frantically in her seat as Nick's voice drifted accusingly into the break room.
She relaxed, slowly lowering the issue of Scientific American to the table as she followed his gaze to the steaming Styrofoam cup of coffee at her elbow. "Oh, uh yeah", she said, recovering quickly. "Warrick did a run to Starbucks earlier. Sorry we forgot about you. Apparently Greggo isn't surrendering his private stash".
She didn't mention the fact that she hadn't asked him herself because they hadn't spoken to one another since the previous shift.
Nick sighed pitifully, slumping into one of the leather conference chairs opposite her.
She felt a weak smile pull at her lips at his childish display. "Aw, what's the matter, Nicky?"
It was sad the way their friendship had disintegrated since the change in shifts. They had gone from an almost brother/sisterly affection, to catching a glimpse of one another five minutes every once in a while during the two-hour changeover.
Nick shrugged, leaning his head indolently back against the smooth leather headrest. "Nothin', really. Just this latest case that's dogging me".
She sighed, mind flicking to her own omnipresent case. "Yeah, I know the feeling".
He shifted, twisting his head against the chair to glance at her. "Uh, hmm, yeah, I heard about your case. Sounds rough, huh?"
Sara frowned, carefully stirring her spoon in her coffee and fixatedly avoiding his stare. "Why do you say that?" she asked, suddenly uncomfortable.
He frowned at her evasiveness. "Rape case, right? College co-ed? It's sad, that's all I'm saying".
Sara blinked, meeting his gaze as she quickly licked the foam off her spoon. "Right. Yeah. They always are, aren't they?"
Nick hesitated, brown eyes fixing on her thoughtfully. "Sara… is everything okay?" he asked after a moment. "You seem kind of like something might be bothering you".
She glanced at him again, wondering why it was he realised something was wrong with her when she didn't want him to notice it. When she had been drowning last year, he had been too preoccupied with their mutual rivalry over the promotion to even ask.
"I'm fine, Nicky", she said quietly.
He lifted an eyebrow, and by the sudden vehemence in his earnest expression, she assumed the office rumourmill was still running competently. But he knew her well enough not to comment on it.
"All right", was all he said, making it clear in his tone he didn't believe her. Warrick strode into the room, effectively ending any further attempts at conversation, and he nodded out into the hall.
"Sanders is moping out in the DNA lab", he noted in his typical nonchalant amusement. "Mia can't get rid of him."
Nick smirked absently. "Maybe the field's getting too much for him", he chuckled lightly.
Sara narrowed her eyes, rising to her feet and sliding back her chair. She pushed her half-empty Starbucks cup over the table towards Nick, and rounded the table on her way out. "Excuse me", she said abruptly.
She saw Warrick lift an eyebrow on her way past, but she ignored him, suddenly intent on making amends.
Greg was perched on a stool in the DNA lab, chin resting glumly in his fist. Mia stood over her working space, attempting to cotton swab several samples while glancing irritably in the corner of her eye every few seconds.
Sara cleared her throat, making her presence known in the room. Greg's eyes drifted up to her scantly, and he quickly lowered them again, linking his fingers indifferently on his knee.
She stifled a sigh. "Hey Mia, you wanna take a five minute break?"
Mia's cocoa-coloured eyes lifted to hers, and she caught the pleading look Sara directed her way, sighing heavily as she snapped off her gloves.
"I think I need a cup of coffee anyway".
Greg refused to meet her gaze after Mia left, and she would have smirked at his petulant child act, if she weren't deeply afraid their friendship has suffered some sort of permanent damage.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay?"
His eyes shot up and she inwardly cursed. She had sounded more defensive than apologetic and he didn't look moved by her laconic statement.
"Okay", he said glibly. "Great".
Sara squeezed her eyes shut, quickly stepping forward. "No, I…" She ran a hand over her eyes, deflating slightly. "I really am sorry, Greg. You were right. I was out of line, and I… I do have a… personal interest in the case. I shouldn't have used my seniority against you and I just… I want to apologise for that".
Greg blinked at her in quiet contemplation, leaning back indolently on his stool. Sara's eyes wavered over his, feeling incredibly uncomfortable as a result of his uncharacteristic silence.
He bopped his head, slowly, sliding off the stool. "Yeah, well. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that, so I'd say we're even. Cool?"
A small smile pulled at Sara's lips. She really did take Greg for granted way too much. "Of course".
He nodded, apparently relieved, and she realised he valued their friendship as much as she did. "Good." He bit his lower lip, glancing down at something on the table. "And listen, I won't… push you about that other stuff anymore. Whatever it is… it's your business."
She sighed, wishing she could confide in him, but knowing that even if she felt comfortable enough to do that, Grissom probably wouldn't appreciate anyone else having that much knowledge. Even if she and Grissom weren't as close as they used to be, she respected the tentative friendship they had now too much to jeopardise any part of it.
"Thanks, Greg", she murmured gratefully.
He nodded, slightly awkwardly. Then a shrill, female voice echoed down the hall, and both of them glanced around in surprise.
"What the hell…?" Sara muttered, shifting instantly back into work-mode.
She looked briefly at Greg; eyebrows raised high, and started briskly out into the hall, knowing he was following closely behind her.
Judy stood up behind the receptionist's desk, brown eyes widened anxiously behind her thin-rimmed glasses. Her usually placid features were harried and fearful, and her eyes darted frantically over to Greg and Sara as they entered the reception area.
Sara's eyes were immediately drawn to the centre of the sudden disturbance, a tall, slender woman of no more than twenty, with fierce, narrowed dark eyes, and a mess of unruly, reddish brown curls that toppled around her face as she yelled angrily.
"I know he did it. Everyone knows he did it! Why aren't you doing something about it! Why hasn't he been arrested!"
At the receiving end of her relentless diatribe was the very weary looking Gil Grissom, who stood by patiently as she directed a string of abuse his way. His blue eyes settled on Sara's over the young woman's shoulder, and remained there for a second too long, before returning to the woman's again.
"I can assure you we're doing everything we can, Ms. Hunter. Without any evidence to indict Professor Townsend—"
"What more evidence do you need?" she shrieked. "She told me everything. I've been her roommate all year. He had to have done it. Everyone knows he sleeps with his students. Everyone knows he was sleeping with her! She was with him that night wasn't she? Why aren't you DOING something?"
Sara was surprised by her accusations. She had no idea Alex was so indiscrete with his affairs. It was one thing for other staff members to know about it, ones he worked with on a daily basis, but other students? If everyone accused Alex, then… Then their already precarious investigation was going to get nasty.
"Excuse me, hi", she spoke up, crossing over abruptly to Grissom and the woman.
The woman glanced at her, hastily applied makeup streaking under her eyes, and Sara felt a stab of sympathy for her. Unfortunately, she all too frequently saw the after-effects of murder on those left behind, and detaching herself from it was a necessary compunction of her profession.
"I'm Sara Sidle", she said quietly, attempting to diffuse the situation, which had attracted a sizable crowd of lab-employees. "I'm working with Dr. Grissom on your case". The low level of her voice seemed to alert the woman to the scene she was causing, and her eyes darted around suddenly, quickly breaking the spell of tension that captivated the room.
Staff scuttled off, and Judy returned to her seat, hastily lowering her eyes to her computer monitor. Greg lifted an eyebrow, leaning back casually against the wide expanse of desk beside her, giving the there of them a polite amount of distance.
Sara wouldn't pretend to be any better in handling social situations than Grissom, but he was clearly in over his head, and unprepared- or unwilling- to deal with a grieving friend of their victim. She cleared her throat, glancing at him fleetingly. "Ms… Hunter?"
The woman swiped the back of her hand across her cheek, sighing tiredly. "Petra Hunter", she said, in a much calmer tone of voice. "Look, I'm sorry okay, it's just that I don't understand what's taking so long. I spoke to Audrey the day before she died, and she told me she was planning on breaking it off with the professor."
Grissom looked suddenly more interested. "She did?"
She sighed impatiently. "Yes. I knew as soon as she got involved with him she would regret it. Audrey just isn't… wasn't the type of girl to risk her future like that. She takes her studying way too seriously. Look, I've been friends with her ever since she transferred from New York, and I had trouble getting her to go out to a party, for God's sake. Professor Townsend was… exciting, I guess. I knew it wouldn't last. If anyone found out about it, her credibility would be shot. All of her papers he graded, everything she did in the workshop… " She blew out a breath. "I know he did it. If she let out what went on with them… Look, let's just say I've seen him when he's angry before. He would do anything to keep his reputation".
Grissom and Sara exchanged a long, measured look, and Sara quickly returned her consideration to Petra. "Look, Ms. Hunter, if he did it, we'll find out. We understand what you're going though, but until we have strong evidence against him… there's nothing we can do".
Petra looked away, brushing an errant curl out of her face. "Yeah. Right", she muttered, clearly unconvinced. "Whatever, thanks for your time. I have to call her mother to arrange funeral plans".
She stalked away, barely sparing them a backward glance, and Sara and Grissom stood by in silence.
"I thought we weren't going to be biased in this investigation", Sara muttered softly.
Grissom lowered his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose loosely. Distant rings circled under his eyes, and she wondered dimly when the last time was he slept. "I tried to help as best I could".
Sara frowned at him, her own nerve endings frazzled beyond retrieval. "Why won't you just admit it?" she hissed, with a sudden terseness entirely inappropriate for a subordinate to her boss. "You don't want to arrest him because he'll expose our past and that could ruin your career".
A sudden, cold mask overtook Grissom's features, an expression she had never seen directed in her direction before, and she resisted the urge to step back in surprise. She wasn't afraid of him, but for one fleeting moment, she thought that she could be.
"Contrary to your belief, Sara, not everything is about my job", he snapped coldly.
She blinked at the brusqueness of his tone, inwardly wondering if his sentence has some layer of double meaning. He turned to leave, and paused, glancing back at her darkly. "And you should know, that Detective Vartan took Townsend down to the station ten minutes ago. They're waiting for us there".
Sara swallowed, visibly surprised by his statement, and stood stock still as he headed outside, into the parking lot. Greg hesitantly approached her, clearly having noted the tense exchange that had just transpired between them. "Um, everything okay, Sara?"
She drew in a deep breath, realising that she had probably just insulted Grissom in the worst possible way, and there wasn't a lot she could do to rectify it. "No", she muttered darkly. "Not really".
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Author's Note: Okay, so in my opinionthis chapter was filler, really- plain and simple. Just a way to help me overcome my long-running writer's block concerning this story. Seriously, comments, criticisms, and suggestions are all very welcome.