Chapter 5
Grissom drove back to the lab alone. Sara and Nick got a ride back with Brass. Grissom needed time to think, to process. He'd always been able to distance himself from a case, but this time he was failing.
He had started looking forward to their meetings about a month after their initial lunch. He was very apprehensive when they first met but Alex put him at ease, just like Olivia had. She was smart, independent, and creative. He could tell from almost the first time that they met that she wasn't using him for therapy. She wasn't looking to recreate her childhood. She wasn't looking for a father. She was only looking for him. And just as he once could never imagine life with her, he now couldn't imagine life without her.
I just need to keep perspective, he told himself. When people get emotional is when they make mistakes.
When he got back to the lab, he knew what he had to do. He needed the samples processed and fast. And Greg was the best.
"Greg, I need you to process these for DNA, ASAP," Grissom said, handing Greg the evidence he had collected.
"Do you have something for comparison?" Greg asked, taking the evidence.
Grissom just handed Greg another file. Greg looked at it and his face went white.
"Alex? Is she ok?" Greg's heart was racing.
"We don't know. That's why we need those samples processed." Grissom responded. He saw the fear on Greg's face. "She'll be alright," he added, trying but not succeeding to make Greg feel better.
"I'm on it," Greg said and got to work.
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Alex started to awaken. Her mind was slowly coming into focus, trying to remember what had happened. But the pain made it hard to concentrate.
She slowly opened her eyes, only to find the room she was in was dimly lit. The singular light seemed to be coming from the cracks around the room's door and it only fell part way into the room. No more than the shadows reached her.
As she grew more aware of her surroundings, she took stock of herself. She was sitting in what felt like a wooden chair. Her arms were bound behind her. It doesn't feel like rope, she thought, trying to figure out what her captor had used. It was more solid and felt thicker than rope. I bet it's duct tape, she reasoned. She looked down, trying to focus on her legs in the darkness. They were bound as well. Yup, duct tape, she confirmed.
She could feel her arm throbbing and looked down at it. It was bandaged and that's when she remembered what happened. She had been on her way to Catherine's house when she took a wrong turn. She still was unsure of the city streets. She had pulled to the side of the road to look at the map. She didn't really like the area she was in, but she didn't want to get more lost.
As she was searching for the map, she felt her car jerk forward and her purse spilled. She looked in her rear view mirror to see that someone had hit her. Idiot, she scolded the car behind her. I had my parking lights on.
She bent over to get her cell phone and her pre-filled insurance cards, which she kept behind her FBI identification. Just as she grabbed them, she heard a loud noise and felt the pieces of her window hit her.
"What the fu.." she started to shout, when she saw the muzzle of the gun. The idiot had a gun pointed at her inside the car. Damn it, she thought, knowing she didn't have hers with her. She had left it at home, not wanting to take it along for her evening with Lindsey.
"Out," a man's voice said.
She looked at the gearshift and moved slightly. The keys were still in the ignition. He noticed and knew what she was thinking.
He pushed the gun up to her temple. "Out. Bring the keys and no funny stuff."
Without hesitation, she moved in a flash and grabbed for the gun. This startled the idiot and the gun went off, hitting her in the arm.
"Now look at what you made me do!" He scolded her. "I didn't want to have to do this," he sneered, pulling out a hypodermic from his back pocket.
Alex was in shock. She'd never been shot before. She was too concerned over her wound to notice what the guy outside her car was doing.
He stuffed the gun in the waistband of his pants and grabbed Alex by the hair.
"Ow!" Alex howled, grabbing at his hand with hers, but it was no use.
He tilted her head, exposing her neck. Then stuck the needle in, pressing the plunger down. She could feel her muscles weakening as he pulled her out of the car. That's when she noticed he had gloves on. No fingerprints here, she thought. She knew she could scratch all she wanted, but her fingers were coming with her. At least for now they were. They wouldn't be of any use in finding her.
With the last ounce of strength she could muster, she removed the ring and hid it in her hand. She took a swipe at her attacker, making it seem like she scratched him with her fingernails. Then she dropped her ring. She hoped it had hit its mark and then everything went black, until now.
After remembering how she got here, she scolded herself. You're an FBI agent and you couldn't handle this prick? What were you thinking? But Alex knew she didn't have much field training. Most of her work consisted of sitting behind a desk, sorting through stacks of papers.
Although her training was somewhat useful as she continued to evaluate her situation. She wasn't gagged, so they were probably somewhere isolated. He didn't care if she screamed. She paused and listened intently for any sound that might indicate where they were, but all she could her was the pounding of her head.
She wasn't tied to a bed. Which for her was a good sign. Maybe his intentions are pure, she thought sarcastically. And even if they weren't, if he tried to move her, it might give her an opportunity to fight back.
Her arm hurt like hell where she had been shot, but it was also bandaged. This confused her a little. Why would he care for her if his ultimate intention was to hurt her?
And finally, she wasn't blindfolded, which meant he didn't care if she saw his face. She knew she wasn't going to live.