Chapter Twenty-Nine

II

"Earth to Warrick? Heeeeello? Warrick?"

"Hmmm?"

Blinking, Warrick adjusted from darkness to Greg's hazy face, only slowly coming into sharper focus. "Greg."

"It's a good thing Ecklie didn't see you sleeping on the job," Greg joked, sounding so cheerful Warrick had to fight back an urge to pour coffee over him. Lifting his head from the desk, he could feel a sharp pain in his neck. Punishment for falling asleep, it seemed.

"I was running a few prints through CODIS," he muttered, trying very hard not to yawn. "Didn't you all go home to get some sleep?"

"Already been and have since returned," Greg replied. "Grissom's looking for you. You haven't seen Sara, have you?"

"Yes, Greg, I saw a vision of her in my dream as I slept soundly."

"Just asking."

"Just teasing. Nah, haven't seen her, man." Groaning, Warrick stood up, feeling his muscles protest at all this mistreatment. He wasn't even sure when he'd fallen asleep and the computer screen seemed to blink displeasingly at him for his lack of attention. Had to be a few hours at least.

"I tried calling her, but she didn't answer," Greg went on, now looking slightly concerned. "I thought maybe she was working, like you."

"Not as far as I know. She's probably sleeping in a soft, soft bed, as I should be doing."

"Yeah, maybe." Greg didn't sound convinced, but didn't push it.

"You seen Catherine or Nick?" Warrick asked, rubbing his eyelids slightly. His eyes hurt and were heavily protesting all the light and sights they were forced to take in. He could feel a headache from exhaustion coming on, but another part of him was energized, sprinting ahead, hunting.

"Catherine's with Grissom in his office. Nick's stealing all my coffee in the break room."

"Smack him from me. I'll go see what Grissom wants."

"I'll tell Nick you said that!" Greg called after him, and Warrick gave him a mock glare before finding his way to Grissom's office. Catherine was indeed there, leaning back in a chair and looking exhausted. Grissom looked... Grissom. Calm and determined and overworked, as always.

"You looking for me?"

"I was," Grissom said, tone serious. "Catherine's been telling me about your encounter with our suspect."

Catherine looked straight ahead and, for a moment, Warrick wondered just what she'd said. Surely she hadn't... No, she wouldn't share that with Grissom, except perhaps at gunpoint or promised torture by tarantella.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here," Grissom went on, Catherine remaining silent and seemingly deferring to Grissom, which made Warrick wonder just what he'd missed. "You two handled it well."

"Thanks..." Warrick said hesitantly. It was rarely a good sign if Grissom started a conversation with an open compliment. It was almost enough to make a man start looking into unemployment benefits.

"The Sheriff wants me to oversee this case, given Catherine's personal involvement. You two shouldn't really be here."

"Oh, come on, Griss!" Warrick protested, feeling an urge to smack a gauntlet down on the desk. No way in hell was Grissom taking him off the case. "I'm not gonna sit at home and wait for the day someone tracks this guy down! I'm not."

"I know. I'm not asking you to," Grissom said reassuringly. "That's what the Sheriff wants, not what I want. In this case, you two are evidence. You've had contact with the guy. Maybe that can help us find him. The PD has searched every piece of property the Keyes' brothers owned. Nothing. He's obviously gone into hiding, perhaps considering leaving the state."

"If he does that, we may never catch him," Catherine said evenly, but Warrick knew her well enough to sense what was underneath. No rest if he did. Always looking over the shoulder, always worrying. Always fearing for Lindsey, perhaps for all of them.

"Nick found some fingerprints in the dumped car that didn't match the other prints we've got," Grissom said, shooting Catherine a quick glance. "Is it possible he has an accomplice?"

"I think maybe I heard two voices when we were being transported," Catherine replied, clutching the armrest for a moment, looking ahead, but into her own memories most of all and Warrick could feel them faintly echo in his own mind. "Could've been the radio, I was pretty out of it."

"I only remember one guy. The father, wanting to know who killed his daughter," Warrick injected, remembering the voice. Such grief, dark and despairing and enraged. The kind of grief that could lead to a certain madness. The madness he'd almost felt at the thought of losing Catherine.

You could live a life in that madness, knowing nothing else and he could feel it tug at him, demanding vengeance, silence and death.

"Alan Keyes," Grissom said softly, the name like death spoken in his voice.

"If he has an accomplice, where should we start to look?" Warrick wondered aloud.

"In the past," Catherine replied, standing up. "This guy's life is in the past. He's living his past, his daughter through these murders."

"Yes," Grissom agreed, looking thoughtful. "You two feel like a little digging?"

Catherine groaned slightly, but gave a tight nod. "We'll dive into Alan's past, but if my back hurts more at the end of it than now, you're paying for a massage for me."

Grissom looked amused for a moment, something affectionate passing between the pair of them and Warrick felt a moment of jealousy. Not at Grissom really, but rather the years the two had known each other, the years he hadn't known Catherine. Strange and somewhat frightening was the realisation that he would want to spend all the years with her, grow old and wrinkled and still sleep next to her.

A certain kind of madness to that too.

"I'm going back to the Keyes' place, see what we might find on second look," Grissom said, getting up as well. "I'll take Sara and Nick, Greg can give you guys a hand. Talk to Brass."

"Sara's not in yet. Greg tried calling her with no luck," Warrick replied and for a moment, something flickered over Grissom's face. Worry, concern, guilt, a mix of them seemingly all at once. It passed so quickly it could have just been his imagination and he was tired, yet... He wondered. It wouldn't be the first time he'd noticed something pass through Grissom where Sara was concerned, yet as the years had passed, he'd never had any real evidence. Still, a gambler always looked at the subtle signs and the subtle signs were screaming a story.

"I'll call her. Thanks, Warrick," Grissom said composedly, giving nothing more away.

"Good to have you back."

A faint smile was Grissom's only reply and Warrick followed Catherine out, noting that the usual swing in her step was gone. She was probably feeling the lack of sleep and more importantly, the lack of rest. Sleep was easy enough. But when nightmares stalked it, it was hardly rest.

"Where the hell are we supposed to start with this?" he muttered darkly as they walked along, feeling a great desire to hurl himself at walls just to see the dents he could make.

"Before he went to Norway, perhaps?" Catherine suggested. "From what Grissom said, Anna's grandmother was apparently convinced Alan had committed murder before he came to Norway. Maybe this possible accomplice would be connected to that."

"As good a theory as any," he replied. "Hey, if you want to get a few hours on a couch somewhere, I can boss Greg around."

She turned her head to smile at him for a moment. "Thanks, but if I go to bed now, I'll sleep for a year. Besides, I'd miss your snoring."

"I do not snore."

"Do you want me to bring a tape in for audio analysis?"

"That'll never hold up in court."

"Depends who the judge is and this judge rules that you snore."

"No chance of appeal?"

"I'll have to take that under advisement," she replied, giving him a look that almost invited ravishing. He shook his head at her and she gave him a teasing smile, tinged with exhaustion, but genuine nevertheless.

'Maybe we're going to be fine,' he thought daringly, a strange optimism, all things considered.

"Hey Greg, you're with us!" Catherine called into the break room, where Nick and Greg were sitting in animated conversation, the former with a silly plastic horned helmet before him. Presumably a gift from Greg. Warrick was almost afraid to ask if the younger man had brought something for the rest of them as well. They'd probably find out soon enough, anyway.

"Where are we going?" Greg asked, giving Nick a merry wave as he got up and followed them through the halls.

"Backwards," Warrick replied before Catherine could say anything. Backwards, if it would do any good. A man could hide for a long time in this city, this state, this country. They could be forced to chase him forever, always hunting. And always being hunted too.

"Ah. Good. Here I was thinking I would miss Grissom, but I see you've mastered the art of replying like him," Greg said and Warrick had to smile. He knew Grissom had in some ways mentored him as a possible replacement for the day Grissom himself might move on, but perhaps he had been taught a thing too many.

A peculiar thought, that this lab might one day be his of sorts, perhaps Catherine supervising days. The two of them and Lindsey, a family, a life, a possibility. Life in following death, life in the lab. It could be a future.

But the future was merely the tomorrows always on the other side of a sunrise and the present always the threat of the last sunrise of all. No guarantees, all gambles and they were all addicted to it in their own way.

He smiled faintly at the thought, feeling exhausted, anger, fear and determination all cancel each other out for a moment of utter calm and stillness.

Alan Keyes might have the best hand now. But there was always another deal waiting beyond the fallen sun.