A/N: Okay, here it comes… a new chapter! I'll try to update again this week and then, I'm afraid, I have to leave you in suspense for to weeks because I'm flying away and won't have a computer. Anyway, enjoy!

Sara has already spoken to the others, so when we arrive at the lab, they're all waiting wanting to help, to do anything to bring Greg back safe and sound. One after the other comes up to me saying how sorry they are. Even Eckley allows us to put every other case behind to proceed quickly here. Warrick and Sara take care of the tire track, Gris and I have a closer look at the mirror, while Cath tries to find out more about Crane. At the abduction two men at least had a finder in the pie.

At first we print the mirror, but nothing comes up. There's nothing more we can do, so we hand it over to Archie who sets to work at once. I can barely hold me back to shout at them to work faster, though I know they're doing their best. Soon Warrick and Sara join us; the only thing to tell us is the tire track is the one of a black SUV, year of construction 1996. 1000 vehicles are licensed alone in Vegas… Absolutely no chance to detect the one Crane has used. But when Cath arrives a few minutes later, she has a hopeful smile on her face. I hold my breath, has she found out who the second man was and with that where to start looking for my G? I stare expectantly at her and she says: "Guys, I think I know who his accomplice was! He has a cousin, Stuart Grant who was already in jail for kidnapping! Guess what car he drives!" "An SUV!" I suppose. In that moment, we're interrupted by Grissom's cell. "Grissom?" "Really?" "We'll be right there!" Turning to us, he exclaims: "They've found the SUV! Catherine and Nick, you head out there, Sara, you go to the cousin's house and I take the car, it'll be here soon."

10 minutes later we're at the scene. We haven't talked the whole ride, none of us really having anything to say. Unsurprisingly we find nothing, even though we search more than thoroughly. Frustrated we return to the lab. There a package awaits me… sent by Nigel Crane. I suppress a shudder, breathing in deeply opening it with my friends by my side. Careful not to destroy any evidence, I unwrap it. As soon as I see what's inside I ran to the bathroom and throw up. Shivering I lean against the wall trying to regain at least some composure before I return to my fellow CSIs. I saw there was no blood on the finger, so the owner is dead… But Catherine doesn't want to leave me till I come out. She hugs me wanting to comfort me: "Maybe it's not his… They're checking this out now." This thought hasn't even entered my brain, so I cling to it as long as I can. I splash cold water in my face to cool me down. My breathing is a little more even now. When we step outside, Gris comes up from the hallway: "It's not his! The prints don't match." 'Thank god!' But on the other hand I can't know if he's going through worse right now…

Then he shows me a brief letter: "The phone booth in front of your house in an hour. I'll give you further instructions then and better come alone if you care for poor Sanders… xxx Nigel" I exchange a long glance with Grissom. Both of us know perfectly well I won't go there alone. The police will follow me in safe distance tracking my cell. With modern means it's easy to track someone when the cell's on. Speaking of the devil, right now my cell rings. It's an excited Sara telling me she found the cousin dead at his home and now processes the scene. The finger Crane sent us is from him. I suspected it, Crane is someone to kill his accomplice when he has no more use for him.

I need a 20 minutes ride to get home, so I say bye to my friends receiving every one's "Good luck!" and a hug, even from Grissom. He really does care about us, I already knew. I try to calm them, even though I'm afraid myself. Getting into my vehicle I force a last reassuring smile on my face and drive off. I'm there ten minutes too early and wait anxiously for the phone ring. With the second ring I pick it up: "Hello" "Hey Nicky, how are you doing?" I'm in no state for small-talk right now, so I just ask abruptly: "How is Greg?" "Oh, our friend is alive, don't worry" I hear a scream of pain through the phone. Sick in my stomach I back against the wall of the phone booth. I refrain from cursing him because I fear Greg will pay for it. "Let me talk to him!" He only lets out a short laugh. "You'll have to come here, I'm afraid. Oh, by the way, next stop: Mirage. 15 minutes. Bye!"

Several other stops follow till I'm finally there: a large cabin in the woods, far away from other houses. Taking a deep breath and trying to prepare myself I enter.