Chapter seven
Sara wasn't afraid to admit when she was wrong. She was well known as a stubborn opponent among her colleagues, occasionally annoyingly so, but she could acknowledge her own mistakes. And it was becoming increasingly clear to her that this was one of those times.
Grissom's instincts appeared to have some level of reality to them— leading them into an even deeper mystery than either of them could have anticipated.
The Sheriff's directions were beyond vague, and she eventually lost track of the winding lefts and rights Grissom took as they were led deeper and deeper into unknown territory. Eventually, they pinpointed the location of the original crime scene, a low incline leading down into dark forest from the side of the road. A barbwire fence cut off from the side, stretching off endlessly into the distance and visibly indicating the boundary of the Harley's property.
Sara swept a stray branch out of her face as she slowly made her way down the slope, stumbling slightly on the uneven ground. Grissom had already made it safely to the bottom, and reached out his arms to steady her. She staggered over a protruding root as she reached the foot of the incline, and slammed into Grissom more roughly than she had intended.
His strong hands had grasped onto her upper arms to steady her, and she came to an unsteady halt mere millimetres from his face. She swallowed hoarsely, started as she was confronted with his effervescent blue gaze head-on, and his hot breath tickled her cheek as she lifted her eyes to stare into his uncertainly.
Her erratic breathing was the only sound in the eerie stillness of their surroundings, and she became aware that their lips were inches apart. She licked her lips unconsciously, unprepared for the unexpected moment of closeness.
The familiar charge of electricity between them returned with a new, strangely thrilling feeling of intensity, and Sara stared back at him, tilting her chin slightly. "Grissom…"
The simple, gentle whisper of his name from her lips broke the spell of the moment, and he gently pulled away from her, lowering his arms firmly to his sides as if the moment had never happened.
"We should see if we can find anything before it gets dark".
She stood still, struck dumb by the ease with which he walked away, watching him silently as he turned away from her to shine his mini-flashlight into the hidden shadows of the trees.
Sara felt her mouth work open disbelievingly, shaking her head as she glanced down to examine something at her feet, a distraction for her pounding heart if nothing else. "We're going to have to talk about this one day, Grissom", she said unexpectedly, straightening when it turned out to be a faded candy wrapper buried under mounds of leaves, brushing the flecks of dirt from her jeans.
Grissom didn't turn around, keeping his attention riveted firmly on something beside a fallen log.
"I don't want to talk about it", he said, in a quiet, brusque voice.
She was surprised he had even acknowledged her statement at all. The air was thick with their unspoken tension, and she studied the broad, tense lines of his back, dropping all attempts at searching for what she knew would be non-existent evidence, after being exposed to the elements for so long.
"Are you going to pretend this doesn't exist forever?" she asked seriously, mentally berating herself for bringing up this conversation. It was long overdue, but this was not the place. Hadn't she promised herself, not a day earlier, that she would not make this trip personal?
At last, Grissom turned to face her, features void of any telling emotion. He had obviously been prepared for this as much as she had avoided it. They were often in close proximity for days on end, but this time they didn't have an imminent deadline, or their ever-present colleagues to distract them. A confrontation about their unspoken relationship, or lack of the same, was only inevitable.
After all, how could she have believed that she would really be able to contain herself?
"Sara, you know this can't ever…" His face crinkled as he struggled to summon the right words, and she could see behind the careful mask, his blue eyes glimmered with conflict. "This can't be anything."
She pursed her lips, gaze fluttering away. "Why?" she asked flatly. She knew she was setting herself up for another rejection, and the later awkwardness this would cause was probably not worth the answer. But she needed to know why he insisted on dampening both of their happiness. Her piece of mind depended on the truth.
He opened his mouth, closed it, gaze sliding over her slowly. "There are a lot of reasons", he said tiredly.
She scoffed humourlessly. "You can't even give me one. Grissom… if you… don't want this, then why does it feel like you have to convince yourself as much as you have to convince me?"
He stared at her, but he couldn't say anything, and she knew it. She shook her head, letting her short brown hair fall over her face, and switched her own mag lite on, shining it over the nearby bushes and hiding the sudden pain she felt colouring her face.
She strode off into the surrounding brush, increasing the distance between them as she regained the last bitter shards of her composure.
The sky had already darkened considerably, and as she stepped under their shade she found the trees were so thick it was difficult to see without the flashlight.
She pursed her lips, folding one arm over her midsection to starve away the biting cold. A twig snapped behind her, and she shone the flashlight out, eyes narrowing warily.
"Grissom?"
She found it highly unlikely that he would follow her so soon after any kind of awkward encounter, and her suspicions were confirmed when she heard no immediate reply. The dense foliage made it difficult to determine where he was, but she assumed he was out of earshot, and frowned slightly before returning her attention to the ground.
She shone the light over the adjoining fence line, feeling the burn of mortification on her features. Grissom's reluctance to pursue any romantic relationship was starting to take its toll. The fact that he could flirt with her for the past few days and then pretend it had meant nothing only added to her heartache.
Sara sighed, attempting to focus on her surroundings. She knew putting the scene into context might help their case slightly, but six months was a long time to sustain any evidence. Too long. If they found anything, they would be extremely lucky.
A low crunch sounded again, and she frowned at the unmistakable sound of slow, cautious footsteps.
She whirled, shining her flashlight around again, wishing she had her firearm handy for an added sense of security. Nothing.
She decided that her heightened emotions were making her unnecessarily on edge, and turned back to her investigation.
And let out a surprised yelp when she came face to face with the hulking figure of a middle-aged man, holding a shotgun between his meaty fingers like a vision from a nightmare.
She tensed, staring at the man, who glared back at her with murderous intent.
She yelled before she had time to think about it. "Grissom!"
Grissom's loud footfalls crushed over the dense brush as they drew closer, and his strident, defensive voice sounded angrily over her shoulder. "Hey!"
He came to a halt at her side, expression twisted and stance oddly protective, and her eyes darted back at him briefly. She hated that she had instinctively called for him, when she was so accustomed to taking care of herself. She hated even more that she felt immediately reassured by his presence.
"You're on private property", the man growled fiercely.
"We're conducting a murder investigation", Grissom snapped back curtly, looking decidedly on edge. "Would you mind pointing down the weapon?"
The man clenched his jaw, lowering his shotgun only slightly. "Yeah? I don't remember giving any permission for you people to start sniffing around my property".
Sara narrowed her eyes; defiance returning now the situation was secure. "The Sheriff failed to mention that we needed it".
He scowled. "And why don't that surprise me?"
"And you are?" Grissom prompted impatiently.
The man lowered his shotgun to his thigh now that he knew they were not a threat, eyes glistening almost black in the darkness. "Robert Shelton. I bought this here property six months back now".
"You don't know anything about a murder that was committed here?"
He stared at them like they were crazy. "I haven't heard nothing about no murder, missy. The property was dirt cheap, which was why I bought it."
"From the Harleys?" Sara guessed, frowning intently.
Robert frowned. "Yeah, from the Harleys, who else would I have bought it from? They own half the real estate around here".
Sara glanced back at Grissom, not quite catching his eyes, but long enough to convey her confusion. "And you don't get along with the Sheriff?"
He snorted. "Are ya kidding? The man don't like anyone from out of town coming in and sniffing around. I figure the only reason I got the place was because he was real eager for the land to go. Never had a quicker deal in all my life."
"Well, we're sorry for disturbing you", Grissom said carefully.
Robert scoffed humourlessly. "Yeah, sure you are. Just don't let me see you on my land again, ya hear?"
"I don't think you have to worry about that", Sara said dourly.
He shot them a parting glower, turning to start back along the boundary fence, presumedly towards his main property.
Grissom frowned deeply, gaze sliding over hers as the man disappeared, brow crinkled vaguely as he scanned her with something resembling concern. She realised that he had believed her to be in serious peril, at least for a moment, and for a split second, the turbulent emotions hidden under his gaze were there for her to see.
He swallowed, sounding dimly uncertain. "Sara—"
"We should get back", she said curtly, firmly looking away. "Wouldn't want the angry giant to come back with his shotgun loaded up, now would we?"
She turned abruptly, without waiting to see if he was going to follow her. Good. Maybe he could suffer for once. After a long beat, she heard his shoes crunch on the undergrowth as he began to follow her through the trees.
If he wanted to pretend this had never happened, then that was just fine. She could play that game. She'd been doing it for the last five years; she could do it a little longer.
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