Night Shift
Part 7
(Day after NS, pt 6)
(Second person POV)
Grissom looked up as Warrick came back in.
"You get her back okay?" He asked the younger man.
"Yeah," Warrick said.
"What about the car Brass promised?" Grissom asked.
"It was just pulling up as I left," Warrick replied. Grissom closed his eyes briefly. He regretted having had to send her back like a wayward child from school. She wasn't willing to admit that she needed sleep, but Grissom had seen the dark shadows under her eyes.
"Where's Phoenix?" Nick came in and helped himself to a cup of coffee.
"She's gone back to your place to get some sleep," Grissom told him.
"On her own?" Nick put his cup down and was about to leave when Grissom stopped him.
"There's a car outside keeping an eye on the place," he said.
"Bet she wasn't happy to be sent home," Nick took a sip out of his cup as he leaned against the countertop.
"She wasn't, threatening to serious injury to Gris," Warrick joked.
"Thank you, Warrick," Grissom said. His mobile phone rang, he took it out, the caller ID saying it was Phoenix.
"Grissom," he said into it.
"You just had to do it, didn't you?" A voice that was definitely not Phoenix asked.
"Who is this?" Grissom asked.
"You know who I am. But just to refresh your memory; my name is Darren Benning and I've come for my daughter." Darren Benning's voice was calm. Grissom covered the mouthpiece.
"Warrick, does Phoenix have her phone on her?" He asked. Maybe she had forgotten to bring it home with her, or it had fallen out of her pocket somewhere.
"She even showed it to me before she got out," Warrick told him. Nick stood up, paying attention now.
"What did you do to her?" Grissoms voice was sharp, businesslike.
"Nothing. At least not yet. Of course she's going to stay that way, if you can find her within, oh," Benning paused.
"Let's say three hours. If you don't find her by then I'll send her to you…in pieces," Benning hung up. Grissom quickly dialled Brass's number.
"What's going on, Grissom?" Nick asked urgently. All he knew was that it concerned Phoenix and that was enough to make him seriously worried. Grissom waved at him to be quiet.
"Jim, it's Gil. What the hell happened to that car you were sending to Nick's?" Grissom asked. It took Brass a moment to get back to him and when he did it was just to say that the car was still parked out front.
"Yes, there's something wrong. He rang me on Phoenix's phone. Tell those cops to get off their asses and check the house to see if she's still in there!" Grissom ordered. Grissom was angry, an emotion that he rarely displayed. He had sent her home and he felt responsible.
"I'll meet you there," Brass told him hanging up.
"Grissom, what the fuck happened?" Nick was in his face now, his coffee completely forgotten about.
"That was her father. He's got her phone and he told me that if we don't find her within three hours then…" Grissom trailed off. Nick's face paled. Grissom stood up.
"Warrick, get Catharine, meet us at Nick's place as soon as you can," Grissom said. Warrick wasted no time with pointless questions, he just left.
"Come on," Grissom grabbed Nick's arm when he didn't move.
"Listen to me, Nick. We have three hours and that's it. We have to move now!" His voice was surprisingly gentle; he knew how Phoenix felt about Nick. He also knew how much Nick loved her, even if he never said anything about it.
(First person POV)
I couldn't see anything and I couldn't talk. Both my wrists were tied together and I could tell I was awake because my broken arm was killing me.
"You should have known better than to try and run away from me," a very familiar voice said. My voice was muffled against the gag tied around my mouth.
"Sorry I can't let you talk, Phee. I don't want to give away any clues just yet," he said. My voice turned into a sob. I was terrified of him, I always had been. the problem was that he knew it
"Don't worry. I gave your friend Grissom some time to come find us. If he doesn't do it within the deadline then I'm sorry. I truly am, but I have no choice," he actually did sound sorry. I yanked my wrists against the rope binding me and pain shot up my arm. I whimpered in pain and fear.
(Second person POV)
The Tahoe Grissom drove screeched to a halt in front of Nick's house. Warrick had gotten there a few minutes earlier with Catharine and the two of them came over to join Grissom and Nick.
"She's gone, Gil. We already looked around inside. All we found were these," Catharine held up a bagged pair of house keys and Warrick a bagged small statue holding a hand of three Aces in a fan, it had blood on the base of it.
"What about Phoenix?" Nick asked in a dull voice.
"She isn't there. Looks like she just went in the front door and that's where he hit her," Catharine said.
"Nick, Warrick, get those back to the lab and see if you can get anything," Grissom told them.
"I want to be here if you find her," Nick said. Grissom looked at him.
"We're down to two hours and thirteen minutes, Nick. Right now we need to find out anything we can. If we find anything Catharine will let you know," he said. Nick looked like he was going to argue some more, but Warrick murmured something to him, after a moment Nick shrugged and followed the taller man.
Grissom made his way over to Brass.
"Looks like he brought her out the back way, door was open. Warrick dusted it for prints but he didn't find any," Brass told him.
Grissom frowned, lost in thought for a moment. Where would he have taken her?
(Second person POV)
(1 hour, 57 minutes left)
"Nick?" Warricks voice penetrated Nick's morbid thoughts.
"Look, I know you're worried about her. But Gris is right; we need to concentrate on this right now. It could give us the clue we need to find her."
"I know that," Nick stared at his best friend.
"What if she's dead already?" His voice was bleak. Warrick put down the statue he was working on.
"Don't think like that, bro. He's just after holing himself up somewhere with her, that's all." Warrick said.
(First person POV)
(1 hour, 35 minutes)
I could hear him walking back and forth across the tiled floor now.
"You probably want to know why I'm here," he said.
"Well, here's the deal." I could feel his breath on my back now. He had stripped me naked and put me in a bathtub. The feel of his breath made me want to curl into myself.
"You got away from me once, you won't do it again. You'll either die here or you'll come back with me, I haven't quite decided yet." He moved away from me, but continued talking.
"Grissom seems to think you're his daughter and you're not. You're mine! You'll always be mine!" His fist made contact with the back of my neck. I still whimpered, despite trying to hide it.
"Grissom is under the impression that he can get you out of here. He's wrong. I just couldn't stop myself though. His delusion is my hope. I did give him one clue though, let's see if he can put it to good use before time runs out on your clock."
You don't know Gil Grissom, I thought. God I hope I wasn't wrong.
(Second person POV)
(1 hour)
"Grissom," Grissom answered his phone on the first ring.
"It's Warrick. We finished looking over that stuff we found. The blood on the statue belongs to Phoenix; only fingerprints on the keys are hers." Warrick said. Grissom sighed tiredly. They were all heading into a double shift he could feel it. Mobley was going to be pissed at having to pay more overtime, but there was no way that Grissom was going to leave this to Ecklie's people.
"Thanks, Warrick. How's Nick doing?" He asked.
"I found him something else to keep him busy. Don't worry, Gris, I got my eye on him." Warrick assured him.
"Good, I'll ring if anything comes up," Grissom said.
"Likewise,"
"They have nothing other than Phoenix fingerprints and DNA," Grissom told Catharine.
"You want to tell me why her father would do this to her?" She asked. Grissom paused a moment before answering.
"That's probably Phoenix place to tell you, not mine. But she isn't here," Grissom paused, trying to think of the fastest way to tell her.
"She was my first case when I became a CSI. She was just seven. Her father murdered her uncle because she told him he was abusing her physically and sexually. He went to jail, got out three months ago and he's still holding a grudge,"
"And now he's taking it out on her," Catharine finished for him.
"Apparently," Grissom said.
(Second person POV)
(35 minutes left)
Nick didn't want to be here. He wanted to be out there helping to find Phoenix. Greg and Warrick were watching him like he was some kind of alien life form, he could feel it. Their looks also held pity and he hated that. He just prayed that she was still okay."
(First person POV)
(20 minutes left)
"What the hell is wrong with him?" My fathers voice cracked.
"The great Gil Grissom my ass!" He came over and yanked off the blindfold and gag, stuffing earplugs in my ears. He had turned the cold shower on an hour ago and I was freezing. He tied the blindfold back on, but not the gag. Now I could hear nothing.
(Second person POV)
(15 minutes left)
"You can always just hire a new investigator after she's dead I suppose," Darren Benning's voice said over Grissoms phone.
"You do anything to her and I won't stop until I find you," Grissom said.
"Threats don't work with me Mr Grissom. Take another look at the clues I left behind for you." The phone hung up.
"Clues?" Grissom wondered aloud. What clues? He wondered.
"What was the name of the motel that Phoenix stayed in when she first got here?"
"Blue Water," Catharine replied, and then she remembered something else.
"But then she moved to the Three Aces, said it wa-"
"That's it, the Three Aces," Grissom remembered the statue holding the fan of three Aces in its hands.
"Call Brass," he told her as he got in behind the wheel of the Tahoe.
"Want me to let Warrick and Nick know?" She asked him after she had filled Brass in. Grissom wasn't sure if they should tell Nick yet, what if she was already…?
"Yes," he said.
(Second person POV)
(3 minutes left)
"Nick! Come on, they know where she is!" Warrick stuck his head in the door of Greg's lab. Nick nearly dropped the phial that he was holding in his rush to leave. Greg caught it just in time.
(Second person POV)
(-2 minutes)
"Your time is up, Mr Grissom. By the time you find her she'll be long dead. It's been a pleasure as always," Benning hung up the phone again and got ready to leave. He took one last look at his daughter in the bathtub. She was shivering. He decided to warm her up by stubbing out his lit cigarette on her body. Then he hit her over the head and she slumped in the rapidly filling bathtub
"Goodbye, Phee," he used his pet name for her. He opened the door of the motel room and walked out into the early morning light.
(Second person POV)
"Which room is she in!" Grissom shouted at Benning. Brass's people had caught him trying to leave.
"Now, Mr Grissom, surely you don't expect me to do all the work for you," Benning smiled at him. Grissom felt like hitting the bastard. Brass returned from the main office of the motel.
"Room 402," he said. Nick and Warrick still hadn't arrived. Two uniforms went with Brass, Grissom and Catharine following close behind. The door was unlocked.
"In here," one of the uniforms called. Grissom and Catharine entered the bathroom. She was slumped over in the tub her nose almost touching the rising water.
"Catharine!" Grissom called, but she already had Phoenix feet and helped him lift her out of the bathtub. Grissom was almost afraid to check, he was sure she was already gone. Shaky fingers reached for the pulse on her neck and he felt relief course through him in time to her heartbeat.
"She's still alive," he whispered. The paramedics pushed their way past Grissom, wrapping the unconscious Phoenix in a thick blanket, checking her over and loading her onto a gurney.
"Where is she!" Nick's voice and he would have barrelled right into the tiny bathroom if Warrick hadn't held him back. Grissom stood up and went over to them.
"She's alive," he told Nick. Nick stared at the gurney as the paramedics wheeled it outside to the waiting ambulance. Grissom saw a single tear escape Nick's eye before Nick hurried after the paramedics.
"Come on, Gil," Catharine said in a soft voice. Warrick followed them both out, getting into the Tahoe he had driven over in. The ambulance carrying Phoenix already on its way to the hospital.
(Second person POV)
He sat next to the bed, staring down at her. He didn't think that he would ever have fallen for anyone and yet here he was. She was smart, good looking; in that girl next door kind of way, brown hair and green flecked brown eyes. Not his usual type. He could remember when he had first met her;
"Nick Stokes? I'm-" he had cut right across her.
"I don't know who you are, and I don't care to know. What I do know is why you're here." He had snapped back at her.
"Yeah, because I'm the one who-" she had started again.
"I said I don't want to know. Warrick tell her." He had looked to Warrick, who had an expression that suggested the other man wished he was somewhere else, anywhere else.
"Warrick!" He had practically yelled. Warrick continued to ignore him.
"That's right Mr. Stokes I'm from the mother ship we've come to take you home." She had said in a deep voice. After a moment Nick realised how crazy he must have sounded and he had apologised.
That was Phoenix though, he had learned that she had one very…weird sense of humour and that she could laugh at anything especially herself.
Now here she lay, her face pale. She looked almost as if she were dead. The doctors had assured him that she would be fine; he just wanted her to wake up and give him that smile of hers. He closed his eyes remembering this evening just before they had both left for work. She had asked him for help to get dressed and he knew that must have been hard, having to ask for help, but she had still done it.
She had gone to Rice University, same as he had and in Texas everyone liked football. Except her. That was what really made him like her; no, love her, was the fact that when she had first met him she had no idea who he was and she made no bones about the fact that it didn't bother her all that much.
In the last few weeks he had gotten to know her a whole lot better. She loved to watch cartoons and read comics, but she hated magazines, newspapers, chat shows, soap operas and shopping. If you wanted to know what the latest news was the last person you should ask was her, because she'd just look at you like you were from another planet. He had come into the bedroom one morning and found her on her knees praying.
"How can you believe in a god after what you've gone through?" He had asked her. She had looked at him calmly as she got off her knees.
"I'm alive, healthy, clean and sober. Oh, and I'm with you," she had kissed his cheek.
"That's a whole lot to be grateful for," she smiled.
"You don't believe in a god?"
"I don't know, religion isn't really my thing," he had said.
"I didn't ask if you believed in a religion. Spirituality and religion are two totally different thing," she had said.
Did he believe in a god now? He knew she did, whatever god that was he didn't know. But she believed that this god would be good to her. Where was her god now? He wondered. Where was her god when her father bashed her across the back of her head? Where was her god when her father tried to kill her? Did he even exist, or was he just some figment of her imagination?
"You look like you've been told your best friend just died," her voice was weak. Nick's head came up and he stared at her.
"Your okay," his voice was relieved, he almost felt like crying. Her hand tightened in his and he squeezed it back.