Chapter 1
"Grissom, what did I tell you about putting your experiments in the fridge?" Sara rolled her eyes and directed the question at the man sitting on her couch. This was the third time he had tried to stick something in the back of her fridge without her noticing. Part of her was disgusted with the weird looking substance lurking in her fridge. Secretly, though, she reveled in the fact that he felt comfortable enough in her apartment to bring things over. A toothbrush on her counter would have been preferable, though.
"I don't remember," Grissom responded, looking up from the journal he was reading. "I do believe it was something about pain and torture." At that moment the phone rang. Grissom was closest, so he reached for it. "Sidle residence."
"Mr. Grissom?" The voice on the other end was that of a child. Only one person it could be.
"Hi, Cricket." Sara looked up at the use of the nickname. Grissom had given it to Maggie the first day they met, and rarely called her anything else.
"Mr. Grissom, I need help."
The words registered before her tone did. For just a second, thoughts of homework assistance or a ride to a friend's house crossed his mind. Then he realized that she was crying.
"Cricket, what's wrong?" He was worried now. Never in all the time had he known her had he heard Maggie cry.
"Gil?" Sara stepped out of the kitchen when she heard the worried note in his voice. Six months of dating, and she still called him Grissom most of the time. It was proof of her concern that his first name had come out. 'Gil' had become something akin to an endearment, used only during her more playful or romantic moods.
Grissom's eyes met hers as he spoke gently into the phone.
"What do you need help with?"
"Mommy's hurt. She won't get up. There was a bad man here, and she made me hide in the closet, but I was scared."
Oh, God, Grissom thought
"Cricket, I want you to listen to me carefully." He slowly enunciated each word, wanting to make sure the frightened child understood him. "Are you at your house?"
"Yes," was the meek response.
"Besides your mom, are you alone?"
Another affirmative.
"One more question, Cricket. Do you remember Sara's cell phone number?"
"No, but mommy wrote it next to the fridge."
"Okay Maggie. Your doing good. I'm proud of you." He tried to soothe her with his words, only imagining how terrified the eight year old was.
"I want you to hang up the phone, then dial Sara's cell. Can you do that?"
"Yeah."
"Do that now and Sara will talk to you while I drive to your house. We'll be there as quick as we can."
Sara was already reaching for her phone as Grissom spoke, ready to answer it the moment it rang.
"Will you turn on the sirens?" Maggie asked.
Grissom was relieved to hear a glimmer of interest in her voice.
"The sirens and the flashing lights," he promised. Even as he heard Sara's phone ringing, Grissom was reaching for his car keys and his own cell phone. Walking out the door with Sara behind him, he started to dial Jim Brass's number. From Maggie's call it sounded like they were going to need the police and he wanted someone he knew. True, Brass was a homicide captain and this wasn't strictly part of his job. Unless Maggie's mother was dead. Please don't let her be dead.
"Brass, its Grissom. I need you to meet me at a possible crime scene."
Lights flashing and sirens blaring, as promised, it took fifteen minutes to reach Maggie's house. Normally, it took twenty five. Sara spoke into the phone the entire time. At first she tried to whisper comforting words to calm the girl down, but to no avail. Now she was talking to random nonsense, and found that worked better. Favorite books from when she was little, the one and only time she went camping, the time the three of them had gone to the theater. Sara spoke of whatever came to mind.
When they arrived at Maggie's house, they were greeted by a wide open front door and a room that shouted 'crime scene.'
"Maggie, we're here. Don't be scared when you hear noise in the hallway. It's me and Griss. I'm hanging up the phone now." Sara headed straight for the master bedroom, scanning the house as she went.
"Maggie?" she questioned as she stepped into the seemingly empty room.
"Sara!" Maggie appeared from behind the bed and flung herself into Sara, nearly causing her to fall.
Sara held on tight to the little girl, hugging her before pulling away. With trained eyes she studied Maggie, making sure that she was really uninjured. Other then the tear tracks on her cheeks and the haunted look in her eyes, she appeared to be unscathed, physically. A moan sounded on the other side of the room, and Sara remembered that Maggie wasn't alone in the room. Releasing the girl, Sara walked towards the sound.
Debra O'Shannon was curled up on the floor. Dried blood crusted on her cheek. One eye was swollen and turning purple. The arm resting on the floor was lying at on odd angle, obviously broken. Sara took in the sight, complete with the auburn hair partially hiding Debra's face and the bruises starting to make there way known. Suddenly she was ten years old again, looking at her mother. How many times had she witnessed this scene ate home? How often in her childhood, those thirteen years before her mother broke down and grabbed the knife? She blinked once, and it was Debra on the ground, not Laura Sidle.
"Damn it." Grissom was behind her, surveying the scene. It was all too familiar, yet somehow not. This time it was personal, and he couldn't deny it.
Sara hadn't heard him enter the room.
"We need an ambulance, Griss. She's going to need to go to the hospital."
"It's already on the way. Brass too."
His words seemed to awaken her and spur her to action. Sara bent over the wounded woman, to closer examine her injuries.
"Maggie. Where's Maggie?" Debra's voice was barely a whisper.
"Shh. It's alright. We have her. She's not hurt."
"Who?" she questioned, unable to place the voice.
"It's me. Sara Sidle. Grissom is with me. Maggie called us."
"I need..." Debra grimaced, unable to finish the sentence through the pain.
"You only need to lay still. The paramedics will be here soon."
"Maggie..."
"Maggie will be okay. I'll take her to my place tonight. You don't have to worry. We'll take care of her, and then we'll find whoever did this to you." Debra didn't hear the angry tone in Sara's voice when she made her promise. Once she knew her daughter was safe, she gave in to the darkness that was beckoning her and passed out.
"Sara, why don't you go pack an overnight bag for Maggie?" Grissom had recognized that tight lipped, eyebrow furrowed expression she wore as she spoke of promises. He wanted to give Sara a moment to collect herself.
"Yeah." She left the room, Maggie clinging to her hand as if it was a life line.
Just then a familiar voice called from the front hall. "Grissom, you here?" Brass inquired.
"Be right there," Gil responded.
"So whose house is this and how is it you were called before the police were?" Brass surveyed the scene before him, house in shambles, and then noticed that Grissom was not wearing his usual detached expression.
Grissom was about to answer when he glanced at the open doorway behind Brass and saw the ambulance pull up. "Sara can fill you in. I need to make sure Debra is taken care of."
Brass lifted an eyebrow in question. Since when did Grissom call victims by their first names?
"And Jim," Grissom warned as he started to walk out to meet the paramedics, "Walk soft around Sara. The victim is Maggie's mom." With that he left the house.
Well, shit. That explained everything. Brass had met Sara's 'little sister' on the few occasions Sara had brought her to the lab, usually to pick something up or visit Grissom. The kid liked bugs, Brass remembered. This was not going to be an easy case. Sara and assault cases were never good. Sara on an assault case where she knew the victim? Well shit, he thought again.
