The next day found Nick at the computer searching the database for
Joseph Stevens. He hoped to find a police record on the man. Both
houses turned up nothing. The longer the search went on the less
likely they would find Greg alive.
The computer beeped and the screen revealed what he wanted to know.
"So you have a record," Nick said, smiling. "Assault, robber,
rape. Even aliases."
Nick read the three aliases and he bet each one had an address. He
wrote them down then changed computers and logged on. He typed in one
of the names and waited.
"What have you found?" Sara asked, glancing over his shoulder at
the screen.
"Joseph Stevens is also known as Steven Johnson, Joseph Stevenson
and Mark Stevens. I'm cross-referencing the addresses for each name.
Hopefully, he screwed up and puts down the same address."
"The best news I heard in days," Sara said.
"Cross your fingers," Nick replied as the address for the first
name came up.
He wrote it down and went to the second name.
Several minutes later, Nick and Sara headed into Grissom's office.
"We have an address," Nick said, dropping the results on the desk.
Grissom raised an eyebrow as he picked up the paper. He scanned it
for a moment then looked back at them.
"Get Brass and hope its still being used."
They raced through the streets, dodging cars parked on the side.
Sara rode with Nick and Grissom as they followed Brass to the
address. She held out hope they would find Greg and put an end to her
fears. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
The SUV swerved and she opened her eyes and saw Brass's car pull
into a driveway. Nick parked behind him and they filed out of the
vehicle.
"Ready?" Brass asked as he withdrew his gun.
"Let's go," Grissom said.
They followed Brass to the door. He didn't bother to knock first,
opting instead for a more forceful entrance. He rushed in as the CSIs
stood in the foyer. They watched as Brass cleared the small living
room then headed up the stairs.
They moved into the living room and began to collect evidence. A
fireplace was off to one side while a plush white sofa sat in front
of it.
"Only beer and day old pizza in the fridge," Nick said, coming out
of the kitchen. "I don't think this is his main home."
"I'm thinking these homes are for his victims," Grissom said as he
taped the sofa. "I believe he wants privacy and these houses provide
it."
"Up here!" Brass shouted from above them.
Sara raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She ran down
the hallway, stopping short when she saw Brass, stepping out of a
room on her right.
"He's in here," Brass said quietly.
She looked into the room and felt relief wash over her. She
stepped inside and dread pushed down the relief. The sight which
greeted her nearly made her run out of the room. He was lying
lifeless on a bed in the center of the room. Dried blood covered his
chest and he was chained to the bed posts. His face was bruised and
bloody from several beatings.
"Greg?" She called as she stood beside the bed.
She sat on the chair beside the bed as hot tears burned her eyes.
She barely noticed Nick as he placed a hand on her shoulder.
Grissom stood on the other side, checking Greg for a pulse.
"He's alive," he announced, sending a wave of relief rushing
through her.
"Get him out of here," Sara demanded.
She ignored their concerned glances as she searched for a key to
the chains. She looked through the short dresser only to find it
empty. She shoved the drawers closed in frustration. She stared at
the others, asking for help.
"I'll see if there's a key somewhere else in the house," Nick said
then headed out of the room.
Sara turned her attention to Greg. She wiped her eyes and placed a
hand on his forehead.
Greg opened his eyes and looked up at her. One eye had swollen
shut, but it was enough to know he was awake.
"We're going to get you out of here," she said as tears traveled
down her face.
Nick arrived then and hurried to the bed. He unlocked the chains,
freeing Greg from the bed. He helped Greg slowly lower his arms.
"Do you think you can sit up?" Sara asked softly.
Greg looked at her, his brown eyes dull. Her heart clinched,
wondering about his mental stability. She helped him sit up, wincing
as he gasped in pain.
"The ambulance is on its way," Brass said. "How is he?"
"He'll be better once we get him out of here," Sara replied.
She ran a hand through his hair, finding it sticky with blood. She
took off her jacket and wrapped it around him. She held him against
her, grateful he was alive.
"Who are you?" Greg asked, shocking the entire room.