::Questions Unanswered::

(sorry guys, this chapter's a little weak, but please keep reading, it gets good!)

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Grissom stopped. "No…"

"Why not? Let's ... let's have dinner. Let's see what happens."

"Sara ..." the man paused and sighed. "I don't know what to do about this."

"I do." They gaze at each other. She then looks down, her delicate, brown eyes water.

"You know, by the time you figure it out, you really could be too late."

"Grissom!" he was jerked back to reality with a familiar, roaring voice. Brass stood, his hands cupped over his mouth. The supervisor turned, brushed the tears from his eyes, and rushed over to the detective.

"Just got a call back from the lab, Sofia found skin epithelia's on the chloroform towel Greg found. It's Charles Holmes."

"Our murder suspect from the other cases…" Grissom mumbled, pale as a ghost. He took a strenuous breath, and gazed up at the stars, fearful. Oh how they shined that night; the various constellations decorating the jet black sky like an intricate design on a canvas. Please be alright, Sara. Please…

"We called in the FBI, they came up with a plan for the situation." Brass continued. Grissom faced the detective, glaring.

"If we bring any police, he'll kill her!" he shouted.

"What other chances do we have Grissom?! Risk your life as well as Sara's with you going alone? For all we know she's already dead!" Brass stopped. The man's eyes grew as wide as a child's. He knew she could be dead, but being told; forcing him to consider that possibility made the supervisor freeze. Grissom looked down, and nodded.

Brass took a breath. "This is Special Agent Molloy, he'll tell you what to do." The detective introduced Grissom to one of the agents in the black coats, and spotted Catherine. The woman motioned Brass over, and he briskly walked towards her. She stood, showing deep concern on her face as she bit her lip. The strong wind whipped her blonde hair askew.

"All right, what do we got?" he leaned up against the house wall next to her.

"House is empty, owners moved out about two weeks ago. The initial victim, Brooke Meyer, was raped and murdered in her home in this neighborhood." Brass nodded. "A neighbor called the police seeing a resemblance of the attacker from a picture included in a news report enter this house lots of times." Catherine continued.

"They call us in, Grissom, Greg, Sara and me go in, Johnson's shot, Sara's kidnapped…" Brass sighed.

"Greg recovered a gun from underneath a pillow, plugged a print through AFIS and came up with not Charles Holmes but Eric Holmes, his brother." Catherine's eyes met Brass'.

"They could be in on it together…"

"Okay Mr. Grissom, the location specified by the kidnapper is just two miles from here. We plan to wait on Dessert Road, in the nearby forest, armed. You are to carry an empty suitcase, then, when the moment is right, we surround the kidnapper and place him under arrest." The agent instructed Grissom, his dark eyes focused on the dismayed CSI.

"How do you know this much information on the location?" Grissom was stern, showing his extreme hate for the 'feds'.

"We sent an undercover agent to drive by, catch a glimpse." The agent straightened his hat, then continued. "Killer was pretty dumb to have called you."

Grissom shook his head. "This guy is too smart for that, this isn't going to work, Molloy." He growled, frustrated. "We're running out of time!"

"Now, now, don't get pessimistic, it'll work just fine. Why, you think you have a better plan?" The FBI agent then signaled to his fellow officers, glancing at his watch.

"It's 12:41. Let's roll. We'll give you further instruction soon." He spoke coolly, and motioned Grissom to follow. The supervisor clenched his fists, and glared at Brass.

"He'll kill her!"

(TBC)