Missing Link

Chapter three

Simon leant against the doorframe and peered into the bedroom. He had been standing there for the last ten or so minutes and the prone figure of the CSI in the bed hadn't moved yet. He doubted she would stir for another hour, Sara had become angry earlier and he'd had to give her a sedative to stop her from attempting to leave. To him she had been having another of her 'episodes' so he wasn't too worried; she always came back around to his way of thinking.

He rubbed his temples; a headache was starting again so after staying, watching, for a few more minutes he left and walked along the corridor to the bathroom, where all his medicine was kept. Coming to a stop in front of the mirror he viewed his reflection, cringing at the sight of the bags under his eyes, which were red themselves. He needed to sleep. But at the same time, Simon knew that he couldn't trust that Jenna wouldn't try and run out again. He sighed deeply and ran the cold water, waiting until it felt icy to the touch before he splashed his face and the back of his neck, deciding that he would drink more coffee. He could sleep tomorrow.

Sara awoke with a start, her eyes snapping open and darting around the unfamiliar room. She fought back a wave of panic, and reminded herself that she had to remain calm. Panicking, however bleak things seemed to be, would not help matters in the slightest. It didn't stop her hands from shaking though as she pushed her brown hair behind her ear and slowly, hesitantly sat up in the bed. She theorized that he must have carried her in here after the sedative had taken effect. She vaguely remembered stumbling to the door when he had grabbed her from behind and had felt the prick of a needle at the top of her arm and then everything had gone black.

The young CSI rubbed her eyes and opened them wider as her vision become a lot clearer and she debated getting out of bed and trying to escape again. For now, she pushed that thought out of her mind. She didn't know just how far she could push him. She wanted to test his limits -- not make him snap.

As if he had been lurking just around the corner all along, Simon appeared at the door. His bright smile was there as though it had never left; and he held a tray, upon which sat a bowl of cereal, milk and a bowl of fruit. Sara turned away from him and looked out of the barred window, realizing it was day. He was bringing her breakfast, she was glad about that, as she was pretty hungry. He sat down on the bed and looked upon her with unnerving adoration, "I brought you something else to eat. That little snack earlier wasn't enough," he said, as though she hadn't seen the food.

As before, she forced a smile. "Thanks, I am really hungry." This comment seemed to make him happier, and if it was possible the grin grew wider.

Cooperation made him happy.

Simon put the tray down beside her and stood up again before making his way back to the door. "We're going out today sweetie," Simon announced. "It'll be a lot of fun," And with that he left the room.

Nightshift and Dayshift were gathered in the break room. None of them had slept and if someone had dared to tell any of the almost cranky CSI's to take off home and continue in a few hours time, a battle would have begun. All the Crime Lab felt the tension whenever any of them walked by and word had gone out to stay on their good sides or risk facing their wrath. Even Greg had been unusually quiet and no loud music was heard; drinking bad coffee had only served to irritate them further and so the Lab Tech's Hawaiian Blue was in the break room for the CSI's to drink.

Some were sat around the table while others remained standing, leaning against the side counters or gathered by the door; drinking and eating snacks while they talked about the case. As they didn't have all that much to go on yet, it was a short conversation. The CSI's were waiting for word from the Chicago Crime Lab, the information on Hazel Winter that might possibly help them with the case in Vegas.

Brass, armed with a cup of steaming hot coffee, entered the break room. Everyone turned away from their food, drinks and each other, to look expectantly at him. "Those guys really know how to talk…" Jim began. "I didn't think I'd ever get a word in. After spending 15 minutes waiting on the line for someone to talk to me, the guy I finally get takes all the time in the world to get to the point."

Grissom set his coffee and sandwich down on the table, which was already filled with empty and half full packets of everything the vending machine had to offer. There was a long and drawn out sigh, evidence enough of how low his tolerance for waiting around was becoming. "Which is precisely what you're doing now Jim," Gil pointed out. "just tell us what you found out and stop prolonging this," he tried to keep the annoyance out of his tone as he spoke but it was hard after waiting for what seemed like days, but in actuality was twelve or so hours, not being able to do anything that could help forward the investigation.

The captain held up his hand to silence Gil and anyone else that was contemplating interrupting him. "Okay, he told me all he could remember without having the case file in front of him -- though that'll be faxed over ASAP. Hazel Winter, like our girls, was a CSI. She went missing a little over a month ago from her home. When she didn't come into work and wasn't picking up her phone or answering her pages, a friend went over and checked up on her. There was evidence of a scuffle, Miss Winter fought back but still nothing was found that could help the CSI's down there find her attacker but…" he paused as if for dramatic effect.

"When her body was found, as with Lucy at her home, the scene of the original crime, they found skin under her fingernails where she had scratched the perp. Unfortunately they didn't find a match but a neighbour did see him enter the house an hour before Hazel, she assumed he was a boyfriend and didn't think anything of it until she saw the police a few hours later." He waited again, expecting questions. He watched each of them and to an outsider it almost looked like he was a teacher waiting to answers his classes' questions.

It was Warrick that asked the first. "Well, don't keep us in suspense, did she get a good look at him or not?"

"The neighbour gave a description but she could have been describing thousands of people, four of which lived in the neighbourhood." As if anticipating the next question he added. "And they were checked out, when they heard what had happened they helped out all they could. She got a look at the car too, a light green VW Beetle…" Brass trailed off.

Catherine eyed him for a minute, his abrupt silence becoming slightly disconcerting. "What aren't you telling us?"

"With Miss. Winter he broke his pattern. He kept her for three days before killing her. The autopsy report is being faxed over with the rest of the files…from what it sounds like, she could be a bit of a spitfire. Could be that she was too hot to handle and he couldn't keep her around for the usual length of time." Brass finished, unless they got the Chicago report, there was nothing more to be said.

Ecklie eventually broke the silence, and he voiced what all others in the room was thinking but didn't want to say. "So we may not have a week after all. I don't know Sara Sidle like the rest of you people," he said, obviously meaning nightshift. "But from what I do know she isn't the type to just sit back and wait, she'd have heard the reports; she knows how much time she has left. You know as well as I do that if the opportunity to escape arises, she'll take it."

The team shifted around uncomfortably, frowning; processing what the dayshift supervisor had said. The worse thing was -- they could not disagree with him. "Maybe you're right Conrad, and you're definitely right when you say you don't know her like we do." Grissom nodded toward Warrick, Nick and Catherine. "And saying that, she's smart, Sara won't run the risk of trying to escape unless she is positive that she won't be caught." Judging from his firm and steady voice, it sounded like he believed his own words. But there was that niggling doubt at the back of his mind that made the Entomologist question his own words.

If time began to run out, or she believed that the man that took her would snap sooner than they anticipated, she would take a chance.

For the umpteenth time the now all too familiar feeling of dread filled him. He was positive the others had felt it too. Grissom was supposed to lead them and they followed his example, so how could he tell them to get on with their work and act as though this was just another crime, with a victim that none of them had ties too, when he couldn't do that himself? Looking at Grissom then, it looked as though he wasn't wrapped up in what was going on. That he wasn't feeling like crap. Anyone who truly believed that wasn't looking close enough.

And he was surrounded by people that were trained to pay attention. Grissom could not fool them anymore than he could fool himself.

She stopped running, her breath came in short bursts and her throat was so dry she felt the need to cough. But to quiet herself, the CSI put her hand over her mouth. Simon couldn't see her either, but then neither could anyone that could possibly help her. They had exited the diner and a group of kids had bumped into them. Seizing what may have been her only chance, she had run the second he had released his hold on her.

The CSI could hear him now, his feet shuffling along the street, splashing a small puddle. She wanted to curl up into a little ball, make herself as small as possible but that would have meant moving, and moving meant making a noise and the space that she was currently hiding in was too small to shift around in without eliciting some sound. The walking stopped and she risked peeping out from behind the wall. The street was clear and she finally allowed herself to breath again. Stepping out extremely cautiously she still saw no one. She turned around in the opposite direction to the one she had come in, not wanting to chance him hiding around another corner, waiting to leap out at her.

She kicked off the high-heeled shoes he had told her to wear and took off, once again, at a run. Tiny pebbles dug into her bare feet as she sprinted down the empty street. They had set out earlier, in the afternoon but now it was dark; not even the moon lit the way and cloud cover blocked any light. It was starting to rain lightly now too, and it only served to make her colder. The thin dress she wore provided no warmth.

It wasn't tiredness or a dead end that stopped her -- but the hand that shot out from behind a bin that grabbed her arm. Simon had been there all along. His arms wrapped around her and she felt his hot breath on the back of her neck as he spoke, always softly. She shivered involuntarily.

He sounded heartbroken as he asked, "why?"

She couldn't answer even if she tried as his hand was clamped over her mouth. The CSI struggled ferociously. There was no way she was going without a fight. If this was her fate, to die in an alley, then she was going to make sure she got something of him.

She bit down on his hand as hard as she could, which wasn't that much, but enough for him to loosen his hold on her. The brunette slipped out of his arms and made to bolt but he was still gripping her right wrist. In defiance, she swung her left arm at his face as he produced the gun. Absently she wondered if it the one he used to kill the others. The CSI wouldn't find the answer, and it wouldn't help her anyway.

She stared at him coldly; the fear that she felt wasn't showing on her face -- even as he placed the gun against her right temple. She closed her eyes and opened them into slits as she saw Simon back away, clutching at his head as if in pain.

"No, this isn't right! I'm not supposed to do this… But they have to pay! They have to know what I felt…" As he spoke to himself she began to quietly back away.

She didn't get far. He glared at her suddenly with steely resolve. And then pulled the trigger. The gunshot exploded. Breaking the silence of the night. And she crumpled to the ground.