Disclaimer: Dont own CSI. Blah, Blah, Blah. Duh. If I owned CSI i would be lounging in a pool with a Dr. Pepper and a trashy romance novel.

Thank you Grissomsgirl24, heartcat, Emihn, saskia2, and Bradybunch4529 for being my first reviewers. This ones for you guys.

Grissom sat behind his desk, phone in hand, expression frozen in place. It wasn't possible. Sara would never let someone overpower her. His heart beat so fast, he was sure it could be heard down the hall.

"Grissom? You still there?" Brass's gruff voice filtered through his boggled mind.

"Yes. Don't let anyone in that house. I'll be there in five minutes." Grissom slammed down his phone, before realizing he was talking on his cell. He grumbled a curse, then shoved the hunk of plastic in his pocket and grabbed his keys.

Nearly bulldozing five lab techs he stopped in front of the break room.

"Greg!" Griss barked.

The newest field agent flinched and looked up from his music magazine.

"Yes?"

"What are you still doing here?" You were supposed to be at the Davis residence a half-hour ago."

"I was—"

"I don't care. You weren't where you were supposed to be and now Sara is missing. Get In you car and get your ass over there."

"Yes, sir." Greg scrambled off the couch and fled from the room.

Grissom turned to see that several people had stopped to watch him.

"Get back to work!" He didn't have to say it twice.

Grissom was fuming all the way to the scene. How could he leave her alone? Had all these years taught him nothing? He should have waited for Greg to get there. If something happened to Sara he would never forgive himself.

His SUV screeched to a halt in front of the Davis house and he got out, his kit in hand. Greg was a couple seconds behind.

Grissom made his way through a group of bystanders and under the crime scene tape. He stopped in front of Brass.

"I need to know what everyone here was doing. What they heard, what they saw. If any of your guys left for even a second I need to know."

Brass started to say something but Griss wasn't listening.

"Greg!"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Go inside. Search the house. Find anything, call my cell. Cath should be here within the hour. Leave no rock unturned.""

"Where are you going to be?"

"Our suspect obviously didn't leave through the front." With that Grissom turned and headed to the back yard.
An hour later and Grissom was no where closer to finding Sara. All he found was a white thread. Impossible to trace.

He checked the alley behind the house. He shined his flashlight along the concrete, but there were no signs of tire treads.

"Dammit!" Grissom flung his flashlight against the wooden privacy fence, momentarily satisfied by the resounding clunk it made.

"Hey!" He spun around to see Catherine coming out of the backyard.

"Did you find anything?"

"Some hairs, a fingerprint, and an unidentified liquid. You?"

"Nothing. If our suspect went through the backyard he didn't step in any mud."

Catherine shined her flashlight against the fence. "Did you see that spot of paint?"

"Where?" He looked where the light shone. A large dent in the wood with yellow paint chips. "How did I miss that?"

"Perhaps you were rushing the evidence?" Catherine lifted a finely plucked brow. "Look if this case is too personal for you maybe you should pull yourself out of it."

Grissom remained quiet as he scraped some of the paint into an evidence bag. "It's not personal."

"Yeah. Keep telling yourself that." As Catherine walked away that's exactly what Grissom did.