Heroes and Villains: Chapter four

Laura Sidle leant back in the hard, steel institutional chair without a flicker of any telling emotion coming over her features. She blinked back at Grissom and Nick as they waited for Brass, taking in the impersonal white interrogation room with nary a glance, like it was all familiar to her.

Which, Grissom thought vaguely. It probably was.

Nick looked uncomfortable, but he was quite successful in hiding it. It was only Grissom who spotted his fingers drumming a nervous beat on his knee under the table, and the shift in his posture every so often.

Brass arrived with a short nod of apology in their direction, having been caught by the Sheriff in the hall, who Grissom had swiftly bypassed when it was made known he was not the one Atwater was seeking. He had some idea what it was about, and the added gravity in Brass' expression confirmed as much.

He sighed, clasping his hands together on the table as he turned his attention back to Laura.

"Ms. Sutton", he started slowly, letting his voice linger over her spurious name deliberately. "How long have you been in a relationship with Mr. Jenson?"

She tilted an eyebrow, meeting his gaze easily. "I would say about a year".

"And you've lived in Vegas how long?"

She considered. "Three months, give or take".

Grissom made sure to hide the surprise on his carefully indifferent face. They were playing the same game, really. Both concealing what they felt underneath a fabricated stretch of civil words.

"Ms. Sutton, we tracked your financial records", Brass spoke up calmly. "And you and Clark lived and out of hotels before you bought your dream home. I'm curious to know how you could afford such a sudden expense."

She smiled patiently, unsurprised by this question. "Clark recently came into some money", she explained. "Quite a bit, actually. His estranged father passed away. We decided to make a new start away from California."

"Is that why you changed your name?" Nick said bluntly. "To escape your identity as a convicted murderer?"

Her soft smile didn't falter. It was quite unnerving. "Yes".

"So why Vegas?" Brass prompted, leaning idly against the wall behind Nick. "The scenery? The attractive real estate?" His sarcasm was more than evident.

Laura tilted a shoulder impassively. "No particular reason", she said evenly. "Clark used to live here as a child".

"Doesn't that really defeat the purpose of starting anew?" Grissom queried slowly.

Laura glanced at him, pausing momentarily. "Some ties are difficult to break, Mr. Grissom".

He narrowed his eyes, questioning the real meaning behind her words as he nodded slowly.

"You say you didn't know the victims?" Brass spoke up, quickly changing tactics. The vibe between Grissom and Sara's mother was anything but friendly. "Charlie and Daniel Hett, father and son. Sure they don't ring any bells?"

Her expression didn't change. "No, they don't".

Nick nodded. "Maybe this will refresh your memory", he said, retrieving a highlighted page from a folder in front of him. He slid it across the table so it was just within her view.

"Phone records, from your residence a month ago. Three of those calls are to Charlie Hett, and lasted over ten minutes each. What do you talk about for ten minutes with a man you don't know?"

Laura lifted her eyebrows. "You'd have to ask Clark about that".

Nick smiled humourlessly. "I'm sure we will".

"See, Charlie Hett was Paul Jenson's old business partner", Brass started thoughtfully. "I figure hey, he probably thinks he's a little entitled, right? He deserves that money more than a son Paul never saw, right? I don't know, maybe there was a glitch in the will, or Paul didn't update it. You found out abut this, and you weren't happy, were you? Your great new lifestyle might be ruined, and its back to the motel 6 for you. So you call Hett up. Tell him you could come to some agreement. Then you go on holiday before they can arrive, give yourself a bit of an alibi. You leave early to make your meeting. Charlie brings his son, which is trouble, but not impossible. With Clark's help, you'd have the two of them gone like that, no more problem."

Laura actually looked annoyed, and straightened in her seat slightly. "That's quite a story, Detective Brass", she said slowly. "But just because I have a criminal record, does not mean I commit murder on a regular basis. I served my time, and I'm not likely to jeopardise my new future by repeating something so stupid. I learn from my mistakes".

Nick cocked an eyebrow impassively. "Your previous crime was one of passion, but it was premeditated, Ms. Sutton. This wouldn't be that much of a stretch".

She seemed to have regained most of her cool, and now only regarded them with frosty indifference. "My previous crime was to murder my boyfriend because he was abusive. I hardly think this falls under the same category".

Grissom frowned slightly at this admission. He didn't think Sara's reaction portrayed Laura Sidle as simply a protective parent.

Nick stared at her intently. "If I recall correctly, his abusiveness wasn't the reason", he stated plainly.

She leant back again, crossing her legs calmly. "Which was simply the word of an emotionally disturbed teenager who had just lost her father, not mine."

Grissom tilted an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Is that why you came to Las Vegas?" he asked quietly. "To be closer to your daughter?"

She met his gaze levelly. "I haven't seen my daughter since she was thirteen years old", she responded calmly. "Believe me, her residence in this city is purely coincidental".

"There are no coincidences", Nick said seriously.

Brass's gaze was conflicted, like he was seriously considering escorting them both out. This interrogation was getting too personal. Hell, it already was.

Fortunately, Laura chose for him.

"I think I should contact a lawyer", she said smoothly. "If you would like to question me further".

"It'd probably be best", Brass advised darkly.

She rose to her feet, nodding as the detective politely followed her out.

"Man", Nick said, slumping in his seat. "She is one piece of work".

"Yeah", Grissom grunted quietly.

Nick glanced at him. "Sara didn't tell you yet", he surmised. "Why she was in prison?"

Grissom shook his head. "No", he said shortly.

Nick paused. "I couldn't tell… if she was lying or not. She's good. Really good".

"A master at deception", Grissom murmured. "But messy, at murder. If it was her, we'll find the evidence to prove it".

"Yeah", Nick agreed, nodding evenly. "I sure hope so".

000000000000

Catherine peered into the dimly lit layout room, where Grissom was studying Charlie Hett's clothing intently. She tilted a perfectly plucked eyebrow wearily.

His interest in the case was already bordering on unhealthy. It was nearing the end of her shift, and it already looked like he had been here a while.

"Hey", she called, clearing her throat so as not to scare him.

He glanced at her over the rim of his glasses "Hey, Catherine".

She gestured to his work, leather jacket slung casually over her arm. "Find anything interesting?"

He returned his gaze to the article in question, magnifying glass in hand. The shirt was stained with heavy blood over the front, and had a ragged hole where the sharp poker had protruded.

"A few hairs. Nothing particularly incriminating as of yet".

"What about the murder weapon?" she questioned, striding over to his side to glance over the trousers lined out beside the shirt.

"Jacqui's fuming it for prints now."

"Was it used for both murders?" she asked, leaning her palms casually over the table.

Grissom shook his head. "Daniel Hett's skull was crushed with a blunt object. I sent Nick over to look for anything matching the shape of the contusion".

Catherine hesitated, biting her lower lip. She was hardly going to start holding back now, but it didn't hurt to have some measure of tact when dealing with Grissom.

"Gil… how long have you been here? Your car was here before mine. You should give it a break, go home for a while".

He sighed impatiently. "I'm fine, Catherine".

"Really?" She rested her hands on her hips as she faced him. "Because it looks to me like you're getting too involved in this case. In fact, I'm distinctly reminded of the Debbie Marlin case last year. Hmm. Let's see. What's the common denominator here?"

"Catherine", Grissom warned lowly.

She ignored him. "You always do this when it's her. If you could admit you have feelings for her, then I could accept that, but you don't. You just do things like this".

Grissom looked tired, and in no mood for her implications.

"I'm doing this because the Sheriff wants this taken care of as soon as possible, Catherine".

She snorted. "Since when do you give a damn about office politics? This is about Sara; it's always about Sara. I understand why you're upset, this is a sensitive case, but this is getting ridiculous, Gil. Just do something healthier to get her out of your system, like a good old roll in the hay, instead of wearing yourself into the ground".

With that parting advice, she turned and shifted her jacket to the other arm, heading out the door.

She was well aware Grissom's interest in Sara probably required more than a simple physical encounter, but it damn well couldn't hurt. And if his feelings for her ran deeper than that, then he needed a nudge to realise it, because she was sick of this ongoing courtship between them. The whole lab was. Sara certainly was.

And Grissom needed to get his act together soon, because she definitely wasn't waiting forever.

00000000000000

Sara closed her locker door with a resounding bag, sighing deeply as she wound her scarf around her neck. She had been going through the Hett murder file until Greg came to her requiring help on his own case, which took the rest of shift.

She knew Grissom would reconsider his offer if he caught her working overtime to read through the case, so she was going home, completely involuntarily.

Greg sauntered into the locker room, a boundless ball of energy. If there was one thing gained from the messy staff changes, it was her closer friendship with Greg. She enjoyed mentoring him, and he provided more than entertaining company when she was feeling less than cheery. But sometimes she wondered just where he got his energy from, especially at the end of an eight-hour shift.

"Hey, Sar", he greeted, tugging open his own locker, and pulling out his jacket. "Man, I am so jazzed. Wanna hit that pancake place, get some breakfast?"

She smiled slightly, leaning back against the locker bank. At least someone wasn't treating her like a leper. "No thanks, Greggo. I think I need some sleep".

Which was true. It didn't necessarily mean she was going to get it.

Greg paused, eyeing her thoughtfully. He closed his locker. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked seriously.

She shrugged offhandedly. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

He frowned, unimpressed by her attempts to dissuade him. "Because there's something going on, isn't there?"

At her quiet, he sighed. "Come on. I'm a CSI too now, remember? I know there's something up".

Sara shrugged grimly, pulling away from her slouch. "Yeah, okay. There is. That doesn't mean I'm ready to talk about it".

Greg hesitated. Where the others might have backed off at her hostility, he simply nodded slowly, as if in complete understanding. "Okay. Well, when you are… You know I'm here for you, right?"

She felt a small, genuine smile tug at her mouth. He never ceased to surprise her. "You're a good friend, Greg", she admitted quietly. "Did anyone ever tell you that?"

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Just friend?"

Sara laughed lightly. He smirked, letting her know he was kidding. She touched him gently on the arm. "See you tonight, okay?"

He nodded, grinning again. "Count on it".

Sara smiled, flicking her hair out over her scarf and jacket as she strode from the locker room. She passed Grissom's office, noting it was empty and slightly relieved that was so. He had been pretty attentive and nice to her lately, but that didn't mean it would last. She didn't want to tempt the fates by allowing herself to welcome his compassion.

She continued on, rounding the corner at the end of the hall as she passed on through the lab. And she stopped abruptly.

Laura Sidle stood waiting in reception. And before Sara could turn, she glanced around and her calm brown eyes met unswervingly with Sara's.

00000000000

Sara heard the blood rush in her ears. She was sure, in that endless, horrifying moment, that her heart stopped beating in her chest. She felt her limbs slacken, and her eyes go wide, and Laura Sidle met her gaze squarely.

Her smooth delicate features were cool and unreadable, but her brown eyes flickered languidly over hers, and Sara instantly knew that she recognised her.

Her feet felt like lead, and she wasn't sure how long it had been before she saw Grissom appear in the corner of her eye, and move swiftly over to her.

She was dimly aware of his warm, strong hand on her arm, but all she could focus on were those dark, deceptively calm brown eyes, eyes that so clearly mirrored her own.

"Sara", her mother said softly, and she would have thought the background din of the lab had silenced, things were suddenly so soundless.

Sara didn't respond, couldn't respond, staring at her dully.

Laura's gaze shifted over Grissom, taking in his familiar proximity to her daughter.

"Mr. Grissom", she said slowly, with a knowing he did not like at all. "You didn't tell me my daughter was one of your employees".

Sara was so stiff she felt like cardboard through his touch. Grissom cleared his throat. "I think you can imagine why", he said evenly.

Her gaze returned to Sara carefully. "Sara", she said, again, softly. She didn't look as surprised as she should have, but Grissom thought he saw a flicker of something go over her face. Love? Regret? Or something else, something unreadable but there.

Sara still hadn't said anything. Grissom didn't know if she was capable of it, but her silence was unnerving. Like waiting for a coiled spring to snap.

"Mr. Jenson, we'll be in touch", Nick's voice, earnest and distasteful in its familiar Texan drawl cut into their intense stand-off, as he and Clark emerged from an interrogation room down the hall.

Chris looked irritated, and not nearly as restrained as his lover, and he noticed their odd triangle first. Nick's gaze followed, and he looked immediately ill at ease.

Laura shifted at the sight of Clark, who joined her slowly. None of them had moved.

Clark gazed over them with a frown. "Are you harassing her again?" he said shortly. "We're done with your questions today. Let's go, Louise".

Nick was tense, standing behind them, and Laura hesitated, gaze lingering over Sara softly. "I've thought about this moment", she informed Sara quietly, like they were discussing something as mundane as the weather. "Everyday".

"I'll bet", Sara managed, voice unsteady.

Laura took a step towards her. Clark looked deeply confused. Sara tensed, and Grissom's clasp tightened reassuringly on her arm.

"You look so much like your father", her mother murmured, lifting her palm to hover longingly in the air between them, near Sara's cheek.

Something in Sara snapped. Grissom could tell the moment it happened. Her body slackened in his grasp, and she recoiled from Laura's touch like she had poisoned her.

"Don't you TOUCH ME!" she cried, expression twisted angrily, and Grissom reflexively grabbed her to keep her from attacking the woman. Her rage instantly infused her with adrenaline, and Grissom had difficulty holding her back.

"You BITCH!" she screeched. He and Nick both cringed at the sudden, utter hatred in her voice. Grissom didn't think he had ever heard so much hatred in Sara's voice. "Don't you talk to me about my fatherYou RUINED MY LIFE!" Laura had stepped back in surprise, and Sara grappled for her, struggling in Grissom's grasp. "I wish you were DEAD, do you KNOW THAT? You mean NOTHING to me! Don't come near me, just STAY AWAY FROM ME! You ruined my life!"

She was verging on hysterical, and they had attracted quite a crowd. Grissom ignored them, tugging her backwards, talking to her soothingly.

"Come on. Come on".

She shoved away from him, scrambling away from his grasp. "Get OFF me, Grissom!"

Nick stepped up to Laura and Clark- who looked like he was ready to jump on the defensive himself —and glared at them coldly.

"Out. Of the building. Right now".

Laura's cool façade had barely faltered, and she turned first, with cool, brisk steps, leaving Clark to hurriedly follow her. Nick stood by, expression darkening, and he turned to the reception desk, where a few curious lab occupants had gathered in hushed awe.

"HEY!" he snapped. "Show's over!"

They hastily dispersed, ducking their eyes, obviously fully prepared to set the office grapevine churning.

Grissom had pulled Sara into the hall, away from prying eyes, and she was shaking uncontrollably, clutching her palms over her shoulders.

"Sara?" he said tentatively. "It's all right. We'll get out of here, okay? I'll take you home."

Sara didn't respond, letting him lead her out into the carpark, which was illuminated dimly by the early light of day. She had entered some sort of broken, catatonic state, and he was briefly fearful until she blinked, and lifted her head to glance up at him.

"I-I can't, um…" she tried helplessly. "G-Grissom, I…"

Before he quite knew what he was doing, he slid his arms around her and pulled gently pulled her against him, enfolding her in a hesitant hug.

Her felt her stiffen in surprise, but the adrenaline in her system had all but vanished, and she slowly slumped against him, burying her face against the crook of his shoulder, both of them acutely aware that this was probably the closest they had even been.

Sara couldn't handle it anymore. His proximity made the tears burst out of her without her control, and she shuddered from the strength of them as his hold on her tightened, clutching the back of his shirt between her fingers as she was overcome with wave after wave of long-contained sobs, like she was drowning and he was her only anchor to safety.

He had no idea so much pain had resided behind her pretty, carefully arranged features for so many years. He was overcome with the urge to comfort her, when he had never particularly had such an urge with any other person before. His social skills always made him hesitant at the action, yet with Sara it was a natural desire, and it scared him.

However, for the time being, he momentarily set aside his deep-seated insecurities and cradled her against him with a tenderness that surprised both of them.

00000000000000