Grissom's POV:

The scene was unremarkable. There wasn't any blood on the concrete. There weren't any good fingerprints. There weren't any video cameras to catch the assault. The entire case rested on whether or not Sara was able to scratch her perpetrator. I was relatively sure that Sara's overly analytical mind made collecting evidence a priority.

Sophia slept quietly as the computer began to run the substantially smudged partial fingerprint, which could very well be Sara's fingerprint. I left her to sleep. I went in search of Mia, who agreed to stay late to help out. Mia shook her head as I approached.

"Give me twenty minutes, Griss," Mia said as she loaded the sample into the PCR.

"Sorry," I replied as I stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"I have DNA . . . just give the machine time," Mia replied with a soft smile. I think I tried to smile back.

"Gil, it's gone from bad to worse. Time isn't a luxury anymore," Brass said with a huff.

"Jim," I replied. My reply came out sounding much more like a question rather than the greeting I had intended.

"Judge Winston was gunned down in his home sometime between seven this morning and noon. His wife found him," Jim replied.

"You think it's related to Sara's assault?" I asked as I followed him down the hall to where Catherine, Nick, and Warrick were still congregated.

"Payback was written on the wall in blood," Brass said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Another one?" Catherine asked.

"Judge Winston. It had to be the oldest damn judge in the county. He's prosecuted hundreds of different cases . . . I'm having Vega pull all the files that Catherine and Winston worked on. He's going to cross-reference the list with current parolees," Brass explained. Catherine sat still with her mouth slightly agape.

"I'm headed out to the scene. Nicky, you up for some work?" I asked.

"Sure, yeah," Nick replied as he stood up from the chair he was sitting in.

"I can help out too," Warrick replied.

"No, you stay with Catherine. She doesn't get let out of your sight," I replied. Nick followed me down the hallway to the fingerprint lab where Sophia was softly snoring in front of the computer.

"It's Sara's print," I whispered to Nick, who nodded, "Sophia, go sleep in my office." I said as I gently woke her. She looked up at me confused, but then focused her gaze to the computer screen. Sophia cursed under her breath when she saw her smudged partial was Sara's print.

"Is everything okay?" Sophia asked as I helped her out of the chair. She wobbled a little bit as she tried to wake fully from her cat nap.

"No, Brass thinks that the same guy gunned down Judge Winston," I said softly.

"I'll be ready to go in five minutes. Just let me freshen up," Sophia said. She looked much more awake now. She straightened up and quickly walked out of the room before I could get another word in edgewise.

"You're her boss?" Nick asked with a raised eyebrow.

"She has this way of disappearing before you can tell her no," I replied. Nick chuckled under his breath. In many ways, Sophia was so much like Sara. I had accidentally called Sophia 'Sara' once or twice.

The drive to the Judge's house was slow and tense. We exchanged very few words. We listened silently to the police radio in my Denali. We listened to the detectives describe the scene.

We climbed out of the SUV at the foot of a grand light pink brick driveway that lead to what looked like a small castle. I almost gasped at the opulence of the Tudor style home. The neighbors stood on their porches watching the scene unfold. Crime wasn't supposed to happen in these neighborhoods. In my career, I had never been called out to this particular street.

"Nicky, you take the perimeter. Sophia, go talk to the detectives to see what the wife touched on her way in. I'll find David and the DB," I replied. We parted ways amidst the swarm of officers, detectives, and media. I found my way into a luxurious marble and granite bathroom where the blood was crimson against the white marble. The contrast was shocking. I had never seen blood that looked that red or marble that was perfectly snow white. The indoors was just as opulent as the outdoors.

"He was shot thirteen times. Whoever did this used a 9 mm handgun and just unloaded the magazine into a man that could have never fought back," David said as I entered the entrance to the steam shower.

"What do you mean, David?" I asked as I set my kit down on the floor.

"On the counter, he's talking Parkinson's drugs. A few that I remember from med school, and one that I know is experimental. It's being used to help lessen moderate debility," David replied, "I'm putting time of death at 9 to 9:30 this morning. All the shots were in his back . . . . he never knew what was coming."

I took pictures of the body and the crimson pool of blood. The mirror was adorned with the word 'payback' written in what I assumed to be the victim's blood. I let David leave with the body. I couldn't look at it anymore. Knowing that the Judge couldn't fight back, it sickened me.

"The wife touched the front door and the counter around where the groceries were placed. On the second floor, she touched the stair railing. The bathroom door was already open and the steam shower was turned off. I'm going to print the doorknob," Sophia replied, "Nick found a basement window that was kicked in."

"Point of entry. Hopefully we can recover a shoe print or something," I replied.

We worked silently for over four hours before we were satisfied that we got what we wanted. Nick covered the perimeter and the basement of the expansive house. Sophia and I covered the first and second floors. Nick found a muddy shoe print in the basement. Sophia was hopeful that the print she recovered on the bathroom doorknob was that of our murderous parolee.

We were greeted by two armed officers at the door of the crime lab. We had to present a form of identification before we were allowed to enter. We unloaded our evidence on the day shift, which was working into the swing shift. I let Sophia sleep on the couch in my office. I fell asleep in my desk chair. Nick napped on the couch in the break room. Warrick and Catherine were busy helping the lab techs sort through our evidence.

I fell into restless dreams of Sara and an old man that never had a chance.