Heroes and Villains: Chapter seven
Sara backed up slowly, clutching her keys tensely in her hand. She felt her mouth go dry with sudden, unbidden fear, and she licked her lips, eyes darting around frantically. She reminded herself that the door was at her back, and she could bolt whenever she wanted to, and she pressed herself against it, eyeing Laura with mingled surprise and apprehension.
"What the hell do you want?"
It came out as less of a snarl and more a quiet plea, and Sara ground her teeth irritably at the pitifulness of the sound.
Laura remained sitting, exceeding a carefully unassuming air. Sara scowled. She could fool a lot of people, but she would never fool her.
"I'm not here to hurt you", her mother said levelly.
Sara scoffed. "Like you could", she muttered, edgily aware of the self-defence classes she'd taken in addition to her training.
"I want to talk, Sara", Laura said slowly. "That's all".
Sara remained where she was, clutching the back of the door like a lifeline. Laura slanted an eyebrow, examining her surroundings with the detached curiosity of an outsider.
"I always knew you had a hidden feminine side", she observed calmly, fingering the edge of the sofa vaguely.
Sara shifted, increasingly uncomfortable with the invasion of her own private space. "You're supposed to be in an interrogation. They're going to arrest you", she said firmly, allowing herself to close the door but not move away from its safety.
Laura looked unaffected, playing her fingers over the soft fraying edges of an Afghan over the back of the sofa. "Yes, I thought they might".
"Where's your boyfriend?" Sara asked stoically, unwilling to let her surprise show at Laura's lack of reaction.
Laura shrugged calmly. "He left Nevada. We thought it would be best".
Sara frowned at her uncomprehendingly. "Why didn't you?"
Laura shrugged slowly. "I had some… unfinished business to address."
Sara crinkled her brow, palms sweating profusely at her sides. This entire situation was unsettling. She remembered she'd turned off her cellphone, and wondered if she could discreetly reach for it without alerting Laura of her intentions.
Laura glanced at her as if reading her thoughts. "If you'd like to call your boss, I won't stand in your way", she said evenly, eyeing Sara shrewdly. "I just thought you'd like to hear what I have to say first".
Sara swallowed, deeply confused. She slowly paced across the room, stopping by her breakfast nook.
"What do you want?" she repeated quietly.
Laura sighed, and showed the first flickering of emotion Sara had seen her exhibit since they met. "I want… to know my daughter."
Sara clenched her palms into fists, nails digging painfully into her skin. "You have no right to know me", she spat angrily.
Laura shrugged, flicking back her long brown hair. "No, I suppose I don't. But despite what you may think of me, I am still your mother, Sara. And I want you to understand that I'm not the woman I was when you were a child".
Sara leant back against the counter in disbelief. "Right. You're not the same. You didn't murder those men just like you didn't murder Chris."
Laura licked her lips. "I killed him to protect you, Sara".
Sara's whole expression contorted angrily. "You never did anything for me! You did this for yourself. You haven't changed. You're still as selfish as you always were and I can't believe I actually thought that you had."
Laura rose to her modest height, watching her daughter patiently. "I was young, Sara. Very young. I was a weak person. I still am, I admit that. I relied on men for everything, even when they hurt us. Chris betrayed me and that gave me an excuse, but it didn't mean that's why I did it. Going to prison was the best thing that could have happened, because it got you away from both of us."
Sara stared at her. "You really think foster care was the best thing that could have happened to me?" She shook her head with a small scoff. "That's not why you're here. You want me to forgive you. You want someone to justify what you did, that time and this time."
A small smile tugged at Laura's lips. "I don't need your forgiveness. I just want you to understand."
She glanced around Sara's apartment again, looking thoughtful. "I wasn't supposed to be a mother, Sara", she said evenly.
Sara blinked at her. She hadn't been expecting that.
Laura nodded. "I wonder, though", she mused as she went on, completely oblivious to Sara's surprise. "Is that why you're like this?" She gestured around. "In your thirties, with no husband, no children of your own? Are you afraid to become me?"
Sara clenched her jaw painfully. She didn't want to hear this. "I'm nothing like you".
Laura smiled sadly. "Are you sure?"
Sara felt her heart hammering in her chest as Laura fixed her calm, dark brown eyes on hers. What was this? One finally hurrah before she went back to prison, screw up the kid who she'd already screwed up to begin with? She knew her mother was an intelligent woman, even if she hadn't used it for anything resourceful. That part of her was in her genes, and she didn't like it. Is that what she was doing? Playing psychological mid-games?
Laura blinked slowly, watching her shrewdly. "Do you really think that I'm here just to hurt you?"
Sara stared back at her, feeling a burning deep in her throat. "I really don't know", she murmured quietly.
Laura shook her head, brown hair sliding back over her shoulders. She slowly paced the length of Sara's living room, pausing on the edge of the carpet.
"Don't let the past consume you, Sara", she said softly. "I haven't".
Sara felt her nails stab painfully into her palms before she realised she was doing it. She blew out a disbelievingly scoff, unnerved by her words all the same.
"Somehow, I doubt that".
They stared at each other, intensity buzzing through the air between them. Sara, who prided herself on being in control, had never felt so powerless about a situation in her life, and she eyed her mother tensely.
Sharp, insistent knocks thudded at the door, and both women flinched slightly at the sudden disruption of charged silence. Sara cleared her throat, eyeing Laura uneasily.
"It's open".
Without missing a beat, Grissom swiftly swung through the door, striding tensely inside. His gaze travelled rapidly between the two of them, finally resting on distrustfully on her mother.
She felt herself sagging back against the counter slightly, unconsciously allowing some measure of relief to overcome her.
"Grissom", she murmured, comforted by his sudden presence.
He eyed her carefully, stoic expression betraying nothing. His blue eyes, however, were a storm of conflicted emotion, and she swallowed under their unequivocal intensity.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
She nodded, glancing briefly at Laura. "Yeah".
A small smirk tugged at the corner of Laura's lips as she gazed between them silently.
"The police are right behind me", Grissom informed her curtly, blue eyes narrowed and cold. Sara swallowed, distantly thinking she had never seen him look so angry.
Laura nodded easily. "I have no intention of going anywhere, Mr. Grissom".
Grissom pursed his lips, nodding firmly. She noticed his hand strayed protectively over his jacket, which she knew concealed his gun. He didn't trust that she was willing to come so easily, and Sara couldn't blame him. She didn't know why Laura was willingly giving in, but she believed that she was being honest about that one thing.
It wasn't long before they heard heavy footsteps down the hall, and Brass instantly appeared in the doorway, an armed officer not far behind.
The detective narrowed his eyes dangerously as he gazed between Grissom and Sara, before firmly landing on Laura. He gestured coldly to the officer behind him, who immediately produced a set of handcuffs.
"Louise Sutton, you're under arrest."
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Sara swallowed, sagging down onto the edge of her sofa, bracing her body unsteadily on the edge. She thought she should be crying, shaking, anything after the ordeal that she had dreaded and dreamt about since she was a child, but all she felt was a deep numbness.
Grissom had followed Brass outside, but he reappeared now in the fringes of her vision, pausing awkwardly at the edge of her living room.
"Sara", he prompted gently.
She blinked, slowly lifting her chin to glance up at him. Her eyes were wide and impossibly dark in her soft, debonair features, and the loose ponytail she had tugged her hair into exposed the elongated shape of her graceful neck. In her vulnerability, her beauty was more than apparent, and Grissom had to swallow against the sudden, overwhelming feeling welling inside.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
She nodded, eyes drifting back down to study the carpet. "I'm fine", she said lowly. "I'm just surprised that I am".
Grissom folded his arms, hesitantly perching on the armchair beside her. "What did she say to you?"
She shrugged distantly. "Nothing... I… I just can't believe she gave in like that. After everything it just felt so…"
"Anti-climatic?" Grissom supplied gently.
She managed a small, ironic smile. "Yeah". She blinked, glancing at him. "How did you, um, know she would be here?"
Grissom glanced down, linking his fingers absently on his knees. "Just a feeling".
"Well thanks… for coming. I'm not really sure what would have happened… if you didn't".
He nodded, expression unreadable. "Of course".
She nodded, licking her lips as she glanced down again.
"Have you found… Jenson?"
Grissom sighed deeply. "Not yet. Highway patrol is searching all along the stateline. They will soon".
She looked distracted and he wondered exactly what had happened here. "Good. I hope they do".
He frowned, aware that he often had difficulty displaying the correct amount of sensitivity in these situations. "Sara…"
She lifted her head, meeting his gaze staunchly. "Don't ask me what happened", she said darkly. "It's over, she's gone. Maybe now my life can just go back to normal".
She rose abruptly to her feet, crossing to the kitchen niche where she firmly turned her back to him, and concentrated on making herself some tea.
Grissom hesitated, knowing that this was his cue to leave. He surprised himself by not wanting to.
He slowly strode across the room to the corner of the breakfast bar, watching the rigid lines of her back as Sara poured water into her kettle and placed it on the gas stove. He placed his palms on the edge of the cold Formica, biting his lip thoughtfully.
"If you need anything… just give me a call, okay?"
Sara's head lifted slightly, as if surprised he would make such a personal offer, and he realised that something so simple and friendly was an odd occurrence between them. A deep sadness overcame him as he became conscious of the extent their friendship had deteriorated.
She didn't turn, or acknowledge that she had heard his gentle gesture in any other way, and he sighed, turning reluctantly for the door.
As his feet fell soundlessly on the carpet and into the hall, he glanced back at her briefly. He didn't know if she knew that her hands were shaking.
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The door to the interrogation room stood tall and foreboding at the end of the seemingly endless corridor, and Grissom inwardly sighed, clutching the folder a little tighter to his chest as he resolutely strode forward.
A plain-faced young officer nodded to him from the side of the entrance, and Grissom nodded back briskly, striding inside.
For the first time in his lengthy career, he found his objectivity genuinely faltering. His eyes slowly came upon Laura Sidle, who would always be Laura Sidle despite any alterations on paper, and his fingers clutched the plastic folder almost painfully as he lowered it to his side.
Even the most relaxed serial killers had never looked so much in their natural environment, completely unaffected by the institutional ambience of their surroundings, and it unnerved him in a way he refused to reveal on his expression.
Abruptly, he crossed to the hard steel chair directly across from her, and sat down, sitting forward calmly without a flicker of true emotion on his indifferent features.
"Clark Jenson was picked up a few miles outside of Vegas", he informed her evenly. Perhaps the mention of her lover would distract her slightly. "He didn't get far".
She nodded, leaning back calmly. "It was a risk he chose to take".
He slanted an eyebrow slightly. "Perhaps you would like to hear what evidence we have against you?"
She shrugged. "If it makes you feel better."
He refused to be baited. He nodded. "Fibres from your clothing were located on the murder weapon", he started.
She pursed her lips. "Which one?"
Grissom frowned. "Excuse me?"
"Which murder weapon?"
"You do realise you're only incriminating yourself further by admitting you know that?"
She shrugged. "Mr. Grissom, I thought I already made myself clear. I'm willing to admit to everything you ask. I'm not going to hide anything."
Grissom was genuinely perplexed. He couldn't quite believe it was going to be that easy. He leant back in his chair, folding his hands in a gesture of expectancy. "All right. Tell me what happened".
Laura nodded, tilting her head. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, as she considered how to begin, in such a show of complete of co-operation it caught him off-guard. "Of course", she said calmly.
"Charlie Hett contacted us several times; about the money Clark's father left him", she started unflappably. "Made idle threats, that sort of thing. Clark returned his calls, as you know, and told him to leave us alone. Charlie claimed he would sue, and bring our seedy pasts into the courtroom. With us against him, we couldn't hope to win, and he knew that."
She licked her lips, gazing at something on the far wall. "Clark decided that we would have to take matters into our own hands. He planned everything; the vacation, the false alibi. He gave his brother a lot of money, but I'm sure you already know that. Of course we didn't count on the flight delay, which changed our original plan a little. It didn't matter much. We met the Hetts at out house. We told them we were prepared to make a compromise. I don't really know why Charlie agreed to come… maybe he thought he could take some drastic action himself."
She shrugged. "We got into a struggle. We used weapons of convenience. Our plan wasn't really that thought out. That was probably our undoing, don't you agree?"
Grissom eyed her disbelievingly. "You risked returning to prison for money?"
Laura blinked at him, and a small frown actually settled on her face. "I didn't do it for the money. I did it for Clark".
Grissom looked at her, frowning for the first time. "Ms… Sutton, you do realise that Clark will be prosecuted for first-degree murder? He could get the death penalty in Nevada. And you will probably spend the remainder of your life in jail."
He turned his head slightly. "If you could have done anything for Clark, don't you think you could have talked him out of it?"
Laura glanced at him, dark brown eyes intensely focused on his. "Have you ever been in love, Mr. Grissom?" When he didn't respond, she smiled sadly. "Love will drive you to unimaginable things."
Grissom lifted an eyebrow slowly. "'Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder'", he quoted, doubtfully.
Her smile grew slightly. "Murder attains the greatest intensity in love."
She studied him perceptively, and he sensed an immediate shift in her composure. It made him wary.
"Relationships with subordinates are discouraged in your line of work, aren't they, Mr. Grissom?" she asked softly.
Grissom met her gaze levelly; uncomfortable with the sudden direction she was headed. He was aware this interrogation was more than adequately over, yet he couldn't make himself rise from his chair. "Yes, they are", he returned frostily, after a pause.
She nodded wisely. "And yet, you still have feelings for her, don't you?"
Grissom blinked back at her impassively, unable to help but ask the question. "For who?"
Laura sighed impatiently. "Denying the things you want only makes them more obvious to others. In your line of work, you should know that."
"I don't know what you mean."
She smirked in genuine amusement. "Yes, you do. You're in love with my daughter."
Grissom swallowed involuntarily, startled by hearing something he had never even expressed in his thoughts uttered so bluntly.
"But something… holds you back. Is it your job, the fact that you're her boss? You said it was discouraged, not forbidden. Is it your age? Does that really matter in today's society?"
She lifted an eyebrow pointedly. "What is it? What is so important it keeps you from the thing you want?"
Grissom stared at her, unable to look away, never before feeling so exposed. Sara had always had the ability to make him feel vulnerable, but with her mother, it was another situation entirely.
"I can't… be what she wants", he murmured, at last.
Laura looked satisfied by his honesty and crossed her legs nonchalantly. "And what is it that you think she wants? Sara needs to be loved. That's all. That's something you can do, something that I never could".
"It's more complicated that you think it is".
"Is it?" she said, scoffing slightly. "Or are you just making it that way? Tell me, do you love her?"
He crinkled his brow, sweating profusely. "Yes", he admitted hoarsely.
She nodded. "That's all it has to be about. Maybe you should remember that, Mr. Grissom."
He licked his lips, not bothering to say anything in response.
In the shadows of the observation room, Sara leant back unsteadily, staring vacantly into the room.
The swell of indignation, disbelief and elation mingled in her chest, and she stepped back slowly. She didn't think she could breathe, and ran a hand shakily through her hair, realising that the words she had just heard were really not some bizarre fantasy playing out in her head.
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