Chapter Two

Those People in Chicago

Grissom was worried. He was very worried. No, scratch that, he was out of his mind with worry. He was pacing nervously around a small, steal interrogation room, hand stroking his chin, his other placed behind his back. Sitting calmly at the table in the center of the room was Sara, hunkered over a plate of broccoli, spork in hand, shoveling it into her mouth, and chewing slowly.

"Grissom..." Sara said, trying her best not to spray food everywhere as she talked with her mouth full.

The man stopped in his tracks and turned to her, staring at her as though he had never quite seen her before.

"Grissom, what are you doing?" Sara asked. She shoveled another sporkful of broccoli into her mouth and chewed again. Grissom paid no heed to her comment, and instead grabbed a deserted fold-up chair from the corner and dragged it to the table.

He plopped down into it and folded his hands atop the metal table between the two of them.

"Sara, answer this for me," he ordered softly. "Why are we in the interrogation room?"

Sara swallowed half of her mouthful, then pointed her spork at him, almost accusingly.

"Because…" She quickly swallowed the rest. "Because Ecklie's in the breakroom. You were the one who suggested it, Grissom."

"Oh, right…" Grissom twiddled his thumbs, staring curiously at the plate of green vegetable Sara was eating from. "I have another question."

"Fire away."

She continued eating, though the mound appeared not to dissipate in the slightest.

"Why are you eating broccoli?"

Sara's eyes turned wild, the syrupy brown color crackling into a hardened chocolate. Her shoulders seized and her hands shot forward, snatching the platter from the table and pulling backwards.

"MINE!" she snarled. However, the force of her arms shooting backwards caused the fold-up chair to close against itself and clatter to the ground, with Sara still on top.

"Sara?" Grissom stood up, his face panicked, gazing over the table down to the floor on the opposite side of the surface. "Are you all right?"

Sara sat there on the ground, two hands held high, gripping tightly to the un-spilled plate of broccoli.

"It's okay, nobody panic. I didn't spill it." Sara declared, raising herself up from the ground, carefully balancing the broccoli.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes Mr. Worrypants!" She stood up properly and placed the plate back onto the silver surface. "Don't you dare touch that broccoli or I'll snap your hand off...with my mouth."

"Okay…I won't touch the broccoli."

"I mean it."

"I wouldn't doubt that."

Sara, keeping a wary eye on Grissom, bent down to the ground and lifted the collapsed chair from the floor, unfolding it, and sitting again.

"Anyway Sara….I have another question."

"Okay."

"Where's Warrick? And Where is Catherine?"

"Ummm…"

"You're supposed to know these things!" Grissom cried fearfully.

"Gimme a second, geez." Sara cried. She sat in thought, nibbling on a stalk of broccoli in the meantime. "Umm…I think Catherine said something about a crime scene in the mountains…and she and Warrick went up there to process."

"Uh-huh…" Grissom mumbled skeptically. "And…wasn't Nick out on a case as well?"

Sara nodded, her mouth bulging with broccoli once more.

"And…why isn't he back?"

Sara stared at Grissom, gulped down her food, then glanced at her watch.

"Because…umm…because…"

"I told you you're supposed to know!"

"And I told you to give me a second!"

"One…two…three…That's three, two more than you asked for, now give me an answer!"

"All I know is that he was driving one of the new jeeps through that rainforest over by the strip!"

"Riiight…"

"He is!"

"And you still haven't answered my original question."

"I don't know why he isn't back."

"It's been a whole 15 minutes! How can he still be there?"

"Why don't you call him?"

"Because cell-phones are a conspiracy."

Sara stared at him, her mouth hanging partially open.

"I'm going to go find a payphone and call those people in Chicago."

"People in Chicago?"

"Yeah, you know…those people…that live in Chicago…"

"Whatever Grissom." Sara sighed and dug into her broccoli again.

Grissom stood up and walked out of the room, digging through his pockets for change. He rounded a corner and headed towards the lobby where he knew a payphone resided.

"Hello? Chicago Crime Lab. This is Supervisor Elizabeth Keller speaking, how may I help you?"

Elizabeth sat at her desk quietly, milling over piles of overdue supervisor reports. Her lengthy ashen-blonde hair was pulled into a low ponytail at the back of her head, tumbling down over her baby blue, long-sleeved, t-shirt to her mid-back.

"Liz?"

"My God, Grissom? Is that you? I haven't seen you since…that one seminar, back in April of last year!"

"Yeah, I know. Supervisor at age 28? You've made it far."

"I didn't have to do much. Just hire a couple of hitmen to go kill a couple of people and it all worked out."

"Very funny."

"I try Grissom."

"Anyway, to cut to the chase…I have an issue that needs to be sorted out immediately."

"What sort of problem?"

"A…er…just—"

Suddenly, a redhead showed up in the doorway. Her oval glasses were resting on a slightly hooked nose dotted with orange freckles. Her shoulder-length, flatiron straight hair was tucked behind her ears and a smirk revealing crooked teeth crossed her smug face.

"Who're you talking to Liz?" she asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the frame.

"Hold on a second Grissom…" Liz covered the phone with a cupped hand, then said to the woman, "Nobody Mindy, go away."

"Grissom? Who's that, your ex?"

"No!"

"Grissom, Liz loves you!"

"Mindy, I swear if you say anymore I will fire you and personally make sure you never get a job in Illinois again!"

Mindy shut up, but walked further into the room, seating herself in a chair on the opposite side of Liz's desk.

"Sorry about that Grissom…"

"Who was that, your colleague?"

"You could say that."

"Did she help you get to your position?"

"Well with competition like her it's not really that hard."

"Oh, I see."

"Anyway…yes, what's the problem?"

"Put me on speakerphone."

"Grissom, do I—"

"YES you have to!"

Liz rolled her eyes, but pressed the button despite her reluctance.

"Mindy?" Grissom called over the intercom.

"Oh…You sound sexy."

"Mindy!" Liz snapped.

"What?"

"Be respectful! This is Dr. Grissom from that seminar you missed."

"Whoops."

"Yeah, whoops."

"Ladies, are you still with me?"

"Yes Grissom." Liz muttered.

"We have a problem over here in Vegas."

"I've heard." Liz acknowledged. "Now do you ever plan on telling us what it is or are you just going to broadcast the basics to everyone you've ever met?"

"Nick is missing."

"Oh…Nick?" Mindy piped in. "He's hot!"

Liz's gaze snapped to Mindy.

"Wait a minute. You did go to that seminar! But…but you were busy over at the actual crime-lab staring at Nick the whole time, weren't you?"

Mindy blushed then said, "Meh-bey…"

"Ladies!"

"Sorry Grissom." Liz apologized. She turned to Mindy then mouthed, 'I'll talk to you later.'

"Anyway…I need at least Liz's help to go find him. We're a little bit shorthanded around here. Warrick and Ca—"

"Warrick's hot too!" Mindy cried.

"You were stalking him too?" Liz cried incredulously.

"Oh, when you say it that way it sounds bad!"

"Ladies, please! This is important!"

"My sincerest apologies Grissom. I'll be sure to send somebody with Ms. Bletcher next time."

"Now, which one of you is coming down?"

"I am!" Mindy cried instantaneously.

"Meaning I'll have to come with…" Liz muttered cynically.

Suddenly a large shadow shrouded Liz's office.

"Hello Molly."

"Oh great, there're more of you?" Grissom cried on the other end.

Ignoring Grissom's pining, Liz turned to the very square Molly Turner standing in the doorway. Her clothes were black, as was her hair, and her shoes, and her everything except for her pale skin.

"Speakerphone's on Molly," Liz informed her. "I suppose you're here for your paycheck?"

Molly grunted and trudged forward to the desk.

"Here you are." Liz handed the boxy woman a cream envelope. "Have a good weekend Molly."

Molly grunted, then pointed to the phone.

"Oh that's Grissom."

Molly's black-eyeshadow lined eyes widened, and she pointed to Liz accusingly.

"NO! Grissom and I are NOT together."

Molly grunted again, as if saying 'Suurre...'

Grissom's voice piped up over the noise again.

"Who is that?"

Liz disregarded him. "Anyway, yes Grissom, I'll be there along with Mindy."

Molly grunted for yet another time, loudly as if saying, 'Where are you going without me?'

"Is that all she does, is grunt?" Grissom asked over the phone.

"She took a vow of silence awhile ago. We can't find out why because she won't tell us. Hasn't said anything since except those grunts you hear and 'I see freaky dead people'."

"I see…"

"How can you Grissom? You're on a telephone silly!" Mindy cried valley-girl-like.

"I see freaky dead people!" Molly suddenly cried. Her voice was deep and hoarse, and could possibly belong to a young man.

"Grissom, can Molly come? She's afraid of the morgue and if we leave her alone here with Jason it'll only be worse."

"Why?"

"Let's just say Jason is the Greg Sanders of Chicago, taking off a bit of the tactfulness."

"So in other words…"

"He locked Molly in the morgue on her first day here." Liz said flatly.

"Oh…"

"I'll see you soon Grissom. You'll be seeing all three of us within 24 hours."

"Goodbye Liz."

"BYE SEXY!" Mindy cried at the speakerphone. Liz quickly hung up the receiver then turned to Mindy and Molly.

"Well girls, I guess we're going to Vegas."