Illusions

Author: Jess

A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews. I love that you are enjoying the story. Special thanks to my betas, Rouch, who makes sure they're all in character, and CSI4nsicAce for making sure my grammar is correct.

Disclaimer: I looked in my wallet, and I still don't have enough to buy the rights to CSI.

Chapter Eighteen

Gil Grissom frowned as he scanned Sara's bookshelf. Multiple Agatha Christie mysteries, various James Patterson novels, a well worn copy of Dr. Bass's A Death's Acre, and various books on forensics filled the shelves. She really did invest too much of herself in the job. He sighed and knelt lower, to look at the bottom shelf. He raised an eyebrow at the various books placed there. "Byrd's Forensic Entomology, Greenberg's Entomology and the law, Lee's A Fly for the Prosecution, and Smith's A manual of Forensic Entomology," he said as he ran a finger along each book's spine.

As he stood he wondered where the entomology book he had given her was located. Grissom walked away from the shelves and moved to the desk. He picked up the hand and smiled. There was a similar one on one of the tables in his town house. He placed the hand back down and shifted his attention to the insects display. 'Perhaps Sara would like to have a more active role in the insect studies,' he thought as he looked at the rest of the desk.

A knock on the door interrupted his musings. He heard the shower running and sighed. Grissom walked to the apartment door and looked through the peephole. He scowled, his eyes narrowing, as he saw Dr. William Doyle waiting patiently on the other side of the door. The doctor knocked again and Grissom thought of ignoring him when he heard the shower stop. The last thing he wanted was for Sara to deal with the man. Sighing, he opened the door.

He watched Dr. Doyle's expression change from delighted to carefully contained anger. "Looking over the case file still?" the doctor asked, his eyes narrowing. "Tell me Dr. Grissom, is it common for you to go to all of your employee's apartments and look over case files?"

Grissom fought to control any emotion in his face. "When the case warrants it," Grissom replied, his voice neutral. "What brings you here?"

"I wanted to see if Sara was up for a late lunch," Doyle said and stepped forward, trying to enter into the apartment around Grissom.

Grissom placed his arm to the doorframe, successfully blocking the doctor's path. "We were just on our way out," he stated.

Dr. Doyle raised an eyebrow. "I believe it is Sara's decision who she wishes to go with," he sneered.

"Hey Griss, you left your shirt in the bathroom," Sara said, walking out of the bathroom with the article of clothing in her hands.

Grissom turned to look at her, to tell her to leave the shirt where it was, but Dr. Doyle took the opportunity to push his way into the apartment.

"I should be ready in ten minutes. Just let me put on some clo…" she said, her voice trailing off as she took in the scene.

Her trek from the bathroom had brought her almost to the front door of her apartment. She quickly tightened the robe around her body. "Good afternoon, Sara," Doyle said, offering her a smile.

"Dr. Doyle," she said in acknowledgement. She glanced at Grissom, who hadn't left his place at her open doorway. He was glaring daggers at the man. She looked back at the doctor and continued, "What are you doing here?" 'And how the hell did you find out where I live?' she finished in her head.

The doctor's smile grew and he stepped forward. Sara watched Grissom's fists clench, and she placed a hand up to stop the doctor's approach and, she hoped, to stop Grissom from doing anything foolish.

"I was wondering if you would care to join me for a late lunch?" the doctor asked. "I have a table at the Le Cirque."

"Sorry," Sara answered. "I have plans."

"With Dr. Grissom?" Sara watched as the doctor's congenial expression turned dark.

"We're meeting a detective to conduct some interviews," she replied evenly, refusing to let any emotion show in her voice.

Dr. Doyle turned his attention to Grissom. "You seem to take up a lot of her time," he said.

"It's a busy job," Grissom stated, his voice strained.

The doctor looked at him, his eyes narrow, before his face transformed into a smile. "Of course it is," the doctor said and turned back to Sara. "Another time then, my dear."

He took hold of her hand and began to bring it up to his lips. Sara quickly yanked her hand out of his grasp causing the doctor's eyes to darken and his mouth to tighten. "When there are no distractions," he finished and nodded his head at her.

Sara watched Dr. Doyle leave and wiped her hand on her robe as Grissom closed the door. She watched Grissom lock the door, looking through the peep hole for a few seconds before wheeling around. She couldn't read his expression as he walked forward. He took her hand and opened his mouth to say something. He shook his head and caressed her hand with his thumb.

"You need to get dressed," Grissom said, releasing her hand. "We need to meet Brass at the first potential victim's address."

Sara nodded and watched him walk to her window. She opened her mouth to reply but thought better of it. She turned and entered her room, despite the feeling of wanting to take another shower to get Dr. Doyle's presence off of her.


Tense. That was the only word Brass could think of to describe the air that encompassed Grissom and Sara. He watched the two walk over to him and wondered what had happened this time between the two CSIs. Whatever it was he was sure neither of them would allow it to compromise their work. He nodded to them in greeting. "I contacted the various women in the list Sara gave me. The three we're going to talk to are the individuals I was unable to get into contact with," Brass said and handed Grissom a copy the three potential victims' licenses. "The first is Emily Suter. Brunette, thirty-three years old."

Grissom looked at the different licenses and then up at Brass. "Emily Suter," he said and pointed behind him.

Brass and Sara looked at where he was pointing and saw a woman taking her bags from the back of a taxi. Sara leaned over and looked at the picture and back at the woman. "I think you're right," she said.

"Ms. Suter?" Brass called to the woman and showed his badge.

"Yes," she answered and walked over to the trio, pulling her bags behind her.

"Emily Suter?" Brass asked.

The woman nodded. "Could we see identification to be sure?" Brass asked. "I'm Captain Jim Brass, from the Las Vegas police department. And this is Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle from the crime lab."

The woman looked at him questioningly before complying. "What's this about?" she asked as Brass handed her identification back.

"An on going investigation," Brass replied. "You were one of the few people I was unable to contact."

"I just got back in," Ms. Suter said. She pulled her jacket back, revealing her Delta airlines pin. "I'm a flight attendant."

"Are you a member of the Nevada SPCA?" Sara asked.

"Yes," Emily answered. "I haven't been able to attend the last two meetings though because I was flying."

"Thank you, Ms. Suter," Brass said.

"Sure," she replied. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"What can you tell us about Dr. Doyle?" Grissom asked.

Brass raised an eyebrow at the way his friend said the doctor's name. "William?" Ms. Suter asked and smiled. "Of course. He's the director of our chapter. Wonderful man, very sweet. Though, he hasn't been the same since the tragic death of his wife."

"How so?" Grissom asked.

"He adored Michelle. She was his world," Ms. Suter said. "How would you feel if your world was suddenly ripped away from you, Mr. Grissom?"

Grissom didn't reply. "Thank you for your time," Sara said.

The young woman nodded and continued her trek to her apartment. Without a word Grissom turned and walked towards the Denali. Brass looked questioningly at Sara. "Don't ask," she sighed. "What's the next address?"

Brass handed her the directions. "Meet you there," Sara said and walked towards the Denali

Brass kicked some gravel from the sidewalk and shook his head. This case was definitely getting to his friend. He sighed and walked to his car. 'One down, two to go.'


Sara fiddled with the Denali's air conditioning, desperate for something to do besides sit and brood as Grissom drove. The second residence had been a bust. The woman's job shift had changed from days to nights and she had picked up an extra shift that morning which caused her to miss Brass' call. Therefore they were down to one last name. If she was at the residence then they would need to wait for dental records to reveal who victim number three was. If she wasn't there, they would at least have a lead as to who their Jane Doe was.

Sara glanced at Grissom and sighed. He had spoken little since Dr. Doyle's arrival at her apartment. The ease she had felt around him earlier had left and she was unsure what to do or say. She knew Grissom was a man of little words. 'No, scratch that, a man who doesn't usually express what he is feeling,' she thought and looked out at the houses. 'Words he has plenty of.'

This was a never ending rollercoaster. One moment, the two of them were on top of the world, beginning to open up to one another, and then Boom! Something happens and they were going in a downward motion. 'Eventually the coaster has to go up again, right?' she wondered as Grissom parked the Denali behind Brass's car.

"Last one," Grissom stated as they exited the vehicle.

"This is the residence of Christine McGraw," Brass said.

"Wow, pretty nice house," Sara stated as they walked towards the front door. "She lived alone?"

"Yes," Brass said and knocked on the door. "Single. She and her brother inherited a hefty estate a few years back when their parents died. I'm still waiting for the brother to call me back."

There was no answer and Brass rang the bell. "No newspaper or mail build up," Sara stated and looked around the front steps.

She walked away from the steps and peered into one of the garage windows. "There's a Lexus in the garage," she observed.

"Are you looking for Ms. McGraw?"

The three turned to see a woman unloading groceries from the back of a van. "Yes we are," Brass said as they walked towards the woman. He showed his badge. "Captain Jim Brass with the Las Vegas police department. This is Sara Sidle and Gil Grissom with the crime lab."

"Holly Pirotta," the woman greeted.

"Do you happen to know where Ms. McGraw is?" Sara asked.

"Somewhere in the French Riviera," Mrs. Pirotta said. "She left sometime last month. She was very excited about the trip."

"Have you heard from her?" Brass asked.

"No," Mrs. Pirotta replied. "But I just assumed she was having too much fun to write or call. Why, is she in trouble?"

"No," Brass said. "Her Lexus is still in the garage. Do you know how she got to the airport?"

"Yes. A gentlemen friend of hers brought her," Mrs. Pirotta said. "What's his name? He's a veterinarian…"

"Dr. Doyle?" Brass asked.

Sara watched Grissom as Brass said the name. His hands clenched tightly into fists, but he made no other movement.

"That's it," Mrs. Pirotta said. "Dr. Doyle. She told me that he was bringing her to the airport so she wouldn't need to pay for a cab."

"Thank you, Mrs. Pirotta," Brass said.

"Anything I can do to help," she replied and then walked away with a bag of groceries.

"And it all comes back to our good friend, Dr. Doyle," Brass said as the three walked towards the cars. "I'll try and get in touch with the brother and see what Christine's plans were."

"I'll have Dr. Robbins obtain her dental records and see if she is our third victim," Sara said.

Both of them looked at Grissom. He merely nodded in agreement. "We'll meet up later," Brass said.

Sara nodded and started to follow Grissom to the Denali. The tension that Grissom had been exhibiting since they left her apartment was still visible. She sighed heavily as they both took their seats. 'We definitely need to work on our communicating skills,' she thought as they started back towards the lab.


Gil Grissom's mind was reeling. It was as if every emotion that he worked so hard to keep under lock and key was trying to break free. Some he didn't mind allowing to finally escape; the passion, desire, and longing that Sara brought forth from him were exhilarating. The desire to harm Dr. Doyle in some form, the level of anger and frustration that the mention of the man's mere name caused, were not. He gripped the steering wheel tighter at the thought of the doctor. Anger and frustration would do nothing but cloud his judgment, contaminate evidence. He needed to ground himself.

Grissom pulled the Denali into the parking lot and turned to Sara. She looked at him questioningly, concern for him etched in her face. He smiled at her. "I'm fine," he said and sighed.

She nodded and he knew she didn't believe him. Hell, he didn't believe him. "I'm going to find out if trace has learned anything and then start on the insects," Grissom informed her.

"I'll see if Dr. Robbins came in early. If not I'll call him," Sara said.

Grissom nodded and unbuckled his seat belt. "Do you want me to find you after?" she asked, her fingers touching his arm lightly.

"I could use your help with the insects," Grissom replied.

Sara nodded and unbuckled her belt as well. Silently, the two walked into the lab. Grissom turned to Sara, "I'll be in my--"

"Grissom!" Ecklie's voice reverberated throughout the hallway. "My office. Now!"

Grissom watched Ecklie walk back into his office and wondered about the twinkle in the man's eyes. "I'll meet you in my office," Grissom said to Sara and proceeded to Ecklie's office.

"What is it Conrad?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

"Have a seat, Gil," the assistant director said, a sickly smile on his face.

Grissom took a seat and waited for Ecklie to speak. "You're suspended," He finally said his voice full of jubilation.

"Excuse me?" Grissom asked, surprised.

"Sleeping with a subordinate," Ecklie informed him, his smile growing. "Really, Gil. Now I know why you were so adamant about keeping Sidle."

Grissom's eyes narrowed and it took all of his control to not leap across the desk and throttle the man. "On what basis do you make this accusation?" he asked, keeping his voice as neutral as he could.

"A concerned citizen brought it to my attention," Ecklie said nonchalantly.

'Dr. Doyle,' Grissom thought. "Who?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," Ecklie replied.

"How long?" Grissom asked. He could feel his self-control beginning to break.

"We're not done here, Gil," Ecklie bit out.

Grissom could see him preparing himself for a long winded speech. "Fine," Grissom said and stood.

"We're not done here, Gil," Ecklie said.

"Oh, but we are Conrad," Grissom replied and left the office.

He walked straight to his office, intent on feeding his tarantula, and gaining back some self-control. He was surprised to see Sara standing anxiously inside.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I'm suspended," Grissom replied and removed some live grasshoppers from a container.

"You're suspended? What?" Sara asked, her eyes widening.

"I need to leave for a bit," Grissom said and placed the grasshoppers in the terrarium. "Work on what we have. Call me if you find anything."

"But, Griss--"

"It'll be fine, Sara," he replied and exited the room.

Sara let out a muffled stream of explicatives before walking out of the office, intent on confronting him. She entered the parking lot and watched as the Denali exited the parking lot. Breathing out a sigh of frustration, she mentally kicking herself for forgetting to grab her purse; she would never be able to catch up with him now.

"I am so going to kick your ass later, Gil Grissom," she muttered to herself before entering the lab.

Sara walked down the hallway, intent on asking Ecklie what the hell was going on. She gasped as she was pulled into another office, the door closing quickly behind her. "What the hell, Catherine?" Sara asked as she looked at the swing shift supervisor.

"I know exactly where you were headed, and that is the last thing we need right now," Catherine said and maneuvered her towards the chairs. "Sit. Cool down."

"I'm fine," Sara said, crossing her arms indignantly.

"Sit, Sara," Catherine pleaded.

Sara dropped into one of the chairs. "What the hell is going on, Cath?" she asked. "Ecklie just suspended Grissom."

"I know," Catherine said.

"You know! What do you mean you know?" Sara demanded, rising to her feet. "Aren't you going to do anything? That man needs to be taken off of his high horse!"

"Sara! Sit!" Catherine hissed. "Dr. Doyle came to file charges against Grissom for sleeping with a subordinate."

Sara slumped into the seat, her mouth becoming dry. "What?"

"He claims to have seen Gil and you together at your apartment," Catherine hesitated before continuing, "and you were apparently not suitably attired for a meeting between colleagues."

"We didn't sleep together," Sara said, her voice sounding far away to her ears. She shook her head and looked down helplessly at her hands. "Oh god, Catherine. He stayed the night because we kept seeing Dr. Doyle everywhere; like he was stalking me. He slept on the couch! I had just come out of the shower."

"If anyone, it should be me who gets suspended," Sara finished and looked at Catherine.

"He's the supervisor," Catherine noted.

"But it's not in the employee guidelines," Sara insisted. "Believe me, I checked. There is nothing against interoffice relationships."

"Not officially," Catherine said.

Sara felt like curling up in a ball and crying; she felt like her life was spinning out of control. There was a buzz and Catherine clicked on the speaker phone. "Yes, Mary," she said.

"There's a Dr. Doyle at reception. He's looking for CSI Sidle. Do you know where she is?" Mary asked over the phone.

Sara looked at Catherine, fear evident as she silently pleaded with the woman. "I don't know, Mary. She's night shift. She shouldn't be here for a couple of more hours," Catherine answered and hung up.

She turned to Sara. "Stay in here as long as you need," Catherine said. "This isn't your fault Sara."

Sara nodded and heard the door close. 'Things were just starting to work out,' she thought as she laid her head down on Catherine's desk. The stress from Doyle, the pent up emotions toward Grissom, and the guilt of his suspension all came to a head, and she let the tears freely sliding down her face.