Greg's POV:

It's been two days since Sara was attacked. We have two suspects that Vega, O'Reilly, and Brass have been tracking for the last seven hours. Bringing them in isn't going to break the case. Their DNA is shared. Most of their life has been shared. They married their high school girlfriends. They had children within weeks of each other. Both had been implicated in a crime that one or both might have committed.

I know my forensics are worthless at this point. They have the same fingerprints. They have the same epithelials. Their feet are the same size and width. A perfect carbon copy of each other is what they are. This case rests on which brother can come up with the most witnesses stating he was anywhere but the crime scenes. I knew there was an excellent chance that Ben and Brad Wilcott would walk free because the jury could convict only one brother . . . how do you take your pick out of two identical people?

It's eight in the morning. I miss Sara. I've picked up the telephone a million times to call her. I just want to know that she's okay, but I'm afraid that Ben or Brad or both will trace the call to the nearest cellphone tower. I don't want Nick or Sara hurt, but I also don't want to wait in limbo while they could already be hurt.

Ecklie is still in his office. The blinds are drawn on the door and glass wall. He's probably sleeping. Grissom wouldn't sleep, so Ecklie made him leave. Grissom didn't argue, but he had this confused look on his face. He looked like he didn't know where to go. I wondered where he was.

The telephone lines had been silent for two hours. There weren't anymore tipsters calling. The press had taken to writing articles for the morning papers. The world had been silent for two entire hours. It almost seemed like a miracle in light of all that had happened in the last forty eight hours.

I asked Mia to leave a few hours ago. She asked me if I wanted to go get some breakfast with her. Mia said that she wasn't sure if sleep would come to her as easily as it normally did. The adrenaline and fear had rendered her in a wakeful state despite the grueling hours of analyzing evidence.

Mia had been wonderful. She stepped in to help me with fingerprints. She took notes for me when I went to see Doc about Mr. Morgan. She helped me determine the paternity of the potato bits in no time. I was proud of her. I was proud of the fact that she was giving her time to help people that she barely knew. Mia had even asked if we should send Sara flowers, but then joked that Sara would be more apt to love chocolate or gourmet coffee more than something that would die within a few days. It seemed that maybe we finally found a person that could fit into the climate of our lab.

I was laying on the break room couch. I had been counting the tiny holes in the ceiling for what seemed like hours. Like Mia, sleep wouldn't take over my exhausted mind. The rush of adrenaline refused to leave my weary body. My brain was thinking about Nick, Sara, Warrick, and Catherine. My brain was conjuring up crime scenes that I prayed would never happen. I don't think I could ever work the case of one of my friends, if one of my friends were to permanently say good-bye.

"Greggo, Brass has Ben Wilcott in custody at the PD. Do you want to come watch the interrogation?" Sophia asked as she rested a hand on my shoulder. She knew that I was awake. It was the same that she was awake. Sophia had refused to sleep since she saw Sara. Sophia had promised Sara that she would get this guy.

Sophia and I drove to the PD. We didn't need to talk on the way there. We had a quiet understanding that this guy could be the guilty one, the innocent one, or a little bit of both. There was no good way for us to prove that forensically. I hated that this case rested on the stories of people that could very well be lying.

"Where were you today, Mr. Wilcott?" Brass asked. Brass looked a little edgy. He looked as if he might just jump across the table and strangle Ben Wilcott. It made me wonder if Brass had stopped to sleep today.

"I was at my mom's house. Brad and I helped her in the dog kennels. We are building a new pen for the puppies," Ben said a little too quickly. It was obvious that he was lying either for himself or for his brother.

"That's interesting because both of you have been implicated in two murders and one attempted murder," Brass said sharply.

"You've got to be kidding me. I just got out of jail. How damn dumb do you think I am?" Ben fired back.

"Dumb enough to lie to me and the crime scene investigators on the other side of the wall," Brass retorted, "You see the judge and jury foreman from your case are on slabs in the morgue. The woman you or Brad thought did the forensics was nearly strangled to death this morning. I walked in on that. You and your brother are lucky that I didn't kill you when I had the chance. I stayed with the CSI because I thought she might be dying. If she would have been only stunned, I would have put a cap in the ass of the bastard that hurt her."

"You should have. I wouldn't be here now if you did," Ben snapped at Brass.

"Don't you dare give me any lip. You better tell me where your brother is. You better give me your clothes. You better do whatever my CSIs say, or I'll throw your ass back in the holding pen with a guy that raped a transvestite last night . . . and I won't come running if he does the same to you," Brass said slowly and deliberately.

"I'm going to go save Brass before he says something that he might regret when the case comes up for review," Sophia said as she walked into the interrogation room.

"Mr. Wilcott, I'm Dr. Curtis. I'm going to be doing tests on your hands and clothes for gunshot residue. I'm also going to take a set of fingerprints and prints of the soles of your shoes. Strip down to your underwear," Sophia said without skipping a beat.

"You need a warrant," Ben replied.

"Funny, getting one of those wasn't a problem," Brass replied with a low chuckle.

I watched Sophia take all his clothes into evidence. I watched Sophia begin to examine his person for evidence. I cringed when I saw that he tested positive for GSR.

"Ben, Ben, Ben . . . you seem to have gunshot residue on your hands. It's not a good idea for convicts to be using guns in Nevada. You just gave me grounds to hold you on," Brass said as a slow smile crept onto his face.

"I shot some opossum this morning. They were trying to get into one of the dog pens. Those bastards carry rabies. My mom doesn't need rabies wiping out her only income," Ben replied coolly. I didn't know if he should be believed or not.

"You have a witness?" Brass asked as Sophia continued to work.

"Ask my mom and ask Brad," Ben fired back.

"Anyone a little more objective than that?" Brass asked.

"No."

At that moment, I knew this was only the beginning of our uphill battle with the Wilcott brothers.