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Chapter 2

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Sara waited before entering the lab at the start of shift the next night. She'd deliberately missed assignments. After last night's spat with Grissom, she'd decided that if he was going to continue to treat her like shit, she'd return the favor. She glanced at her watch. He'd be done by now. Hoping beyond hope that he'd paired her with Catherine, she headed inside. She was met in the hall by most of the crew coming out of the break room, assignments in hand.

"Missed ya this evening, Sar." Nick came over for their customary sibling-like greeting.

"Sorry, Nicky. Running a little behind. I slept late." She smiled and took the punch on the shoulder in good humor, knowing he didn't believe her for a second. "Mom," she cried to Catherine, "he hit me!"

"Oh, come come, now." Catherine smiled at being pulled into their little game. "Don't drag me into it. You're a big girl." Drawing a laugh from Warrick, she continued. "But, just as a precaution, I'll have to separate you. Come on Sara, you're with me. DB in Laughlin."

"Why are we handling Laughlin's cases?" Sara asked after throwing a last punch at Nick, who headed in the other direction with Warrick.

"Because Laughlin is swamped and they begged for our help. Revel in it while you can. You know how much they hate having to ask for help."

Sara giggled as they approached the car, silently saying a "thank you" to no one in particular for a smooth start to shift.

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Arriving at the scene, a townhouse not far into Laughlin city limits, Catherine stayed behind for a moment to grab her kit from the back of the Tahoe. Sara grabbed hers from near her feet and went ahead into the house. Brass was there to brief her.

"Body's over here," he said, pointing to bedroom apparently used as a gym. "Be prepared… it's kind of gruesome," he warned.

Sara played it off. It wasn't often she became nauseated on a case. But when she opened the door, it wasn't the smell of blood that took her aback. It wasn't the position of the body sprawled out across the floor on his stomach in a pool of his own blood that had her suddenly rooted to the spot. It wasn't even the blood spatter in every which direction on every wall, including the ceiling, in mass quantities from the stripes in every which direction on the victim's back that rocked her into shocked silence. It was the idea formulating in her mind of what would drive a person to whip someone so brutally and then stand there and watch him bleed to death.

"Oh, my God!"

Catherine's exclamation from behind her brought Sara back into reality.

"It's not hard to lay this one out, is it, Cath?"

"It's not hard to guess at what happened here, no.… But we can't lay it out until we have evidence," she answered, "so, let's get started."

Careful not to disturb any blood spatter on the floor, Catherine got out her camera and started taking photos of the scene. Assured that the coroner had done his job, Sara concentrated on the body. After taking the photos, she rolled him over. There was no sign of any other injuries, but she'd leave that to Doc. Robbins.

"Hey, Sara," Catherine came over to the body. "Anything other than his back?"

"No, doesn't look like it. Help me roll him back over…. Look at the stripes! You handled the Lady Heather case, right? What kind of weapon would do that? It looks like a whip, but that doesn't explain the really deep wounds. They're almost like stab wounds."

"Probably a cat-of-nine-tails whip. That also takes care of the parallel stripes," Catherine noted knowledgeably. "But let the paramedics take him to Doc. He'll be able to tell better than us. Meds!"

Almost immediately, 4 paramedics came in with a gurney and lifted to body out of the room while Catherine and Sara started on the wall spatter.

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Grissom sat in his office, sorting through the last of the current paperwork. He knew it shouldn't have taken him this long, but thoughts of Sara and the anger that had flashed in her eyes before she'd left his office the previous night kept creeping into his mind. He knew he'd been an ass towards her, but he didn't know how else to act around her. He couldn't seem to make her understand that work and relationships had to be kept separate. Sara and his career were the two most important things to him, but he had to give them both the attention they deserved in their own time.

His thoughts were interrupted when his cell phone started buzzing across his desk.

"Grissom," he answered methodically.

"It's Cath. The scene you gave us is another dud. No prints, no hairs, nothing. Just the vic whipped to death…"

"lying in a pool of his own blood," she continued, except now she was in his doorway. Grissom looked up as he closed his cell phone.

"I called on the way from the autopsy room," she explained. Making her way to the desk, she tossed him a photograph of the scene. "This is the only thing we could find that might give us any clues as to who did this."

Looking at the spatter on the walls, he saw what she meant. "That's an odd void," he said, "not a body void. What is that?"

"It's a message void," Catherine said, sliding another photo onto the desk. "We connected the dots for you." She smiled as Grissom gave her a little smirk.

"Ex 20 15," he read aloud, more to himself than to her.

"What do you make of it?" she asked, unable to read his expression.

"Not sure." He made for his library-like bookshelf, but before he could even get close enough to read the smaller titles, his office phone rang. Knowing the receptionist wouldn't put it through unless it was urgent, he answered.

"Grissom."

"Making any headway, Dr. Grissom?"

"Who is this?" he asked cautiously.

"You may call me Miriam. I asked you haw the case was going."

"You have information for us, Miriam?"

"Well, I can tell you that Sara and Catherine didn't find much, except that klepto-scumbag lying an his own blood. But I presume you got my messages."

Grissom tensed at the thought that this person knew his team and was momentarily frightened for them. But realizing he had a golden opportunity in front of him, he knew he had to stay cool and collected.

"Yes, we did…" He was treading carefully.

"I only thought it fair to warn you. I'll call back in one hour. You may ask questions, but there's no guarantee that I'll answer them. Have your crew ready. I'll have another message. Oh, and Grissom, God Bless." Click.

Grissom got up and looked at Catherine, standing by his bookcase looking confused but intrigued.

"Cath, get the entire team in the conference room, ASAP. Bring pictures from this case and every other unsolved case in the last two months. She's calling back in an hour. I want everyone here in fifteen minutes so we can prepare." Leaving Catherine rooted to the spot, he sprinted down the hall to confirm a hunch.

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