LOST AND FOUND

(a very long…) CHAPTER 6

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or any of the characters. If I did, then I wouldn't waste my time writing fanfiction. I'd waste it writing episodes.

"Why… why would you do that, Warrick?" Grissom sputtered impatiently. "I had her, she was going to tell us everything we needed to know," he said, "and you scared her. Now we have no reason to hold her parents and they could hurt her again!"

"What she's telling us is a load of BS Griss, can't you tell? She's out of her mind and frankly, I don't want to be running around with you and Nick and Greg and Sara chasing clues to a puzzle that exists only in her head," Warrick argued.

"What makes you think she's lying? What happened to innocent until proven guilty?" Grissom yelled, getting impatient.

"What happened to follow the evidence? Grissom… there is no evidence to support her story!" Warrick explained, on the edge.

"You're right. There is no evidence. Thanks to you," Grissom replied bluntly. As he left the room, he waved Nick over from the observation room. "I want you to take this, Nicky," Grissom said, handing him the evidence bag containing the bracelet, "ask her if it's hers," Grissom instructed. Nick nodded, shaken having witnessed the argument. "Then," Grissom continued only so Nick could hear, "ask her how her father died,"

"But she never said-" Nick started

"Just ask her, Nicky." Grissom replied. He turned to Sara and Greg. "You two take Warrick and meet me in the layout room in…" he checked his watch, "thirteen minutes." He said. They agreed, and Grissom took off to the interrogation room where George and Pauline Weiss were waiting, with an attorney. Grissom took a seat and wondered what he could possibly accuse them of in the meantime to keep Rachel safe until she spilled her secret.

"I have only one question…" Grissom said, addressing the Weiss' and their attorney.

Outside, Nick carefully approached Rachel, who was sitting on one of the hall benches. She saw him and didn't know exactly what to do.

"Hi Rachel,"

"Hi."

"My name's Nick… I-I have two questions," he stated, wondering how she'd take it before moving on.

"I just had an interrogation. Weren't you at the party behind the glass?" She retorted, with a bit of rudeness that was purely defensive.

"Yeah, but I still have two questions I'd like to ask you," he insisted. Rachel just stared at the floor.

"Shoot"

"Is this yours?" He asked, holding up the bad containing the broken, bloodied bracelet. Rachel looked up, and examined it. She looked at Nick.

"S'mine." She said. Nick noticed the engravings.

"You sure? Those… aren't your initials are they?"

"I'm sure," Rachel insisted adamantly.

"Okay," Nick said, accepting it.

"What's your other question, Nick?" Rachel asked with a sudden tone of politeness. Nick hesitated. He hated to poison her with the essential question.

"Well…" he started. After a long pause, Rachel frowned in concern.

"Just ask me. Quick and painless. Like a bandaid," Rachel persisted, adding humor to the sullen conversation at the same time sensing something important.

"Rachel… I need to know… how your father died," Nick finally shot. He got what he expected.

"I don't like talking about that," she said, turning with a sudden vulnerability to avoid eye contact.

"That's too bad." Nick replied, inside killing himself using the tone he did, yet knowing he needed an answer. She suddenly came around.

"He bled to death," she said, "I thought you'd find that a bit obvious." She suddenly shot.

He noticed a waver in her voice, and wheeled around to see what she was looking at. George and Pauline Weiss were being let go. Hostility clouded the hallway and everyone felt it closing in. Turning around to see Rachel's reaction, Nick just caught a glimpse of her rushing out the door. Sara, Greg, Grissom and Warrick were hurrying over. All five shot outside after her. In the pouring rain, Pauline was yelling,

"Rachel! Come, hun. Let's go home. It's all okay." Which disgusted all the CSI's knowing how not okay it actually was. Rachel was keeping her distance.

"There's no way in hell I'm coming home, mom," she screamed, "Not even if you lived in a tree and the world were flooded with pee!" Rachel exclaimed. "Never!" she added, storming quickly away.

"Don't be stupid, Rachel, go home with your mother, you little spoiled bitch" George demanded, appalling everyone outside.

"If anyone's stupid dad, it's you. You… you're an idiot. Tell them, dad. Tell'em!" Rachel yelled. At this, Pauline started crying fearfully, begging her ex-husband into the car.

"Rachel, just come home. If you know what's good for you," Pauline insisted. Rachel wasn't swayed.

"I know what's good for me mom. It has nothing to do with you." Rachel spat, turning away finally, but not before yelling at her parents to go 'burn in hell'. She continued away from everyone as George pulled his wife into her car, and she willingly left with him, leaving Rachel walking through the torrential downpour to nowhere but away. Giving up a bit of hope of helping the way-too-fargone girl and her way-too-fargone parents, Grissom headed inside. Nick followed lead.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Sara blasted, stunned at the turnaround.

"She's coming back, Sara. Relax. We are 'good people of science,'" Grissom assured her.

"Yeah, Sara… she trusts us…" Nick added. Sara only stared at them in disbelief.

"Tha… that's not trust." Sara stuttered, fuming, pointing in direction of the argument. Everyone else started heading inside too. She couldn't believe the nerve. "You don't know trust! Someone like her… could…could never trust someone who's just going to walk out like that. Like her parents did," Sara screamed, not realizing how angry she was or why she was that angry in the first place. Greg stalled, feeling sympathetic.

"Well… go get her, Sara." Greg suggested, standing in the doorway to escape the rain. "It's a bit wet out here… I'll wait for you inside… okay?" He offered. Sara stood in the parking lot like a stubborn kid, kind of feeling bad about her outburst. Not letting any weakness overcome her, at the same time loving Greg for his compassion, she silently agreed and trudged, completely soaked, after Rachel while her coworkers entered the crime lab.

Greg turned to Grissom as he entered the lobby.

"What was it you asked Pauline and George?" he inquired. Grissom smirked in admiration of the young CSI's attentiveness.

"I asked them if they had Rachel's birth certificate," he answered.

"Did they?" Greg asked

"Nope," Grissom said in a kidding tone, "Apparently they sent it out to get a passport for Rachel and never got it back," he added.

"Liars," Greg chuckled.

"Well, Greg, it happens all the time." Grissom assured. "But, it seems a little too convenient. You're right. Brass is looking into it." He said. Greg nodded in satisfaction.

"Rachel!" Sara yelled, chasing the estranged girl. Rachel ignored her and started to run. "RACHEL!" Sara yelled again. Rachel this time stopped, turned and screamed back:

"WHAT!" Sara caught up to her and stopped. They were standing under a group of trees in a field on the far side of the parking lot. It was dark, except for the constant and repetitive strobe of yellow lights from a highway construction crew set up about 200 metres away. The rain still fell, in big drops, through the trees and soaked into the spongy grass and turned the field into a swamp in a matter of minutes. Rachel stood there, staring at Sara, expecting some dramatic explanation as to why she shouldn't run away and why she should've gone with her parents. She gazed at the CSI as the yellow light continually flickered across her face. "What?" Rachel repeated.

"Come inside, Rachel. Please." Sara pleaded. Rachel rolled her eyes and returned her gaze to Sara, sighing.

"I don't want to come inside," Rachel said, matter-of factly. Sara thought she was just being stubborn for the sake of arguing.

"Rachel, the investigation isn't over yet. We… I… we all want you to be safe until it is over. All you had to do was tell us. Then your par- George and Pauline- wouldn't be out there to harm you." Sara argued, while Rachel stood in the rain not caring one bit about what she said. "See, Rach… you are digging a hole for yourself and I'm offering you a hand out of there. What are you gonna do?" Sara asked her. Rachel brushed her hair out of her eyes and took a deep breath, falsely alerting Sara to her compliance.

"So if I'm digging a hole, Sara…" Rachel said, as she turned away again, "take away my shovel." She sneered. As she turned walking meaningfully away, Sara rushed towards her and grabbed her arm. Noticing her abrasions, she loosened her grip, but kept it firm. Rachel didn't even try to escape or to fight back; she just turned to Sara, and broke down into tears. As a friend, and a stranger, Sara hugged her back. Rachel broke the silence.

"I'm glad you came back…" she whispered.

"…Which was weird, because I never was away, really." Sara explained to everyone, who'd gathered in the layout room to review what they had and make sense of it all. Rachel was sojourned in the family room.

"So, what do we have so far?" Grissom asked, addressing the whole team.

"Rachel's testimony against her father is backed up by all the evidence here, she claims the bracelet's hers… which proves a struggle, and her father's fingerprints in her blood, on her phone, found at the crime scene… put him there. It basically all adds up," Nick explained, "and considering his TRO, and what triggered it, a safe bet is that he inflicted Rachel's wounds…" he added.

"Not only the physical ones," Sara added, " the demonstration in the parking lot suggests he's responsible for the emotional ones too." She said, followed by a long pause. Warrick broke the awkward silence.

"I guess, normally that would mean case closed, except she claims to have been kidnapped," Warrick reminded everyone, with a hint of sarcasm. Nobody was really sure what to believe.

"Considering how dramatically freaked out she is about not telling anyone, I believe her. Something's up." Greg suggested, while absently flipping through pictures of Rachel's injuries.

"And she can supposedly… prove that." Nick said.

"Guys…?" Greg whispered. He seemed concentrated on something, one of the pictures.

"Greg… buddy, you alright?" Nick asked, as everyone collected to see what he was looking at. It turned out to be the record the nurse has filled out. Greg jumped up to explain when he noticed everyone's confused and expectant glances.

"She has hemophilia, guys… that's the proof!" Greg exclaimed. The group stood either confused or completely in the know. Sara looked as though she'd realised a very difficult crossword clue.

"So simple we overlooked it…" Grissom said.

"Yet," Greg continued for him, "simple enough for a smart girl to figure out," he added.

"Just hard enough to keep her parents from catching on." Grissom said. "Good work Greggo…" he added, as he left the room, beaming at the fresh discovery. They saw him flip open his cell, and round the corner out of sight. Warrick and Nick still looked confused.

"How is it you know what this is?" Warrick asked Greg.

"I'm like a sponge…" he started,

"Don't even start, Greg." Nick warned. He turned to Sara, "and you? How do you know about this?" he asked her. Sara was hesitant.

"Well… I… just know." She said. Nick mouthed 'liar' to Warrick, who grinned. "Hey!" Sara quipped. "I know someone who died from it… okay?" Sara added, silencing the group. Turning to Greg, she said, "How about you give these two a little grade ten biology lesson, Greg." Sara suggested. He nodded in agreement.

"Hemophilia… it's a rare inherited bleeding disorder that is housed on the X chromosome… Rachel, being female, has two X chromosomes, obviously… meaning she'd have to inherit the trait from not only her father, but also her mother," Greg explained, turning to Sara, who had a deathly glare meant for Nick.

"This proves her story, Warrick. Her father has the disease. George does not. She's telling the truth," Sara said solemnly.

"And you can tell just by looking at him he doesn't have it?" Warrick asked.

"Yes," she answered, "yes I can." Nick suddenly realised something.

"Rachel told me her father bled to death!" Nick exclaimed. The whole possibility of Rachel's outrageous story actually being true silenced the CSI's, who uniformly glanced towards Rachel in the family room. The girl who'd been proven right.

An hour later, Pauline and George Weiss were back in the interrogation room, befuddled as to why they were there. Greg was for his first time, alone, as he thought he could handle it.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weiss," he announced, as if he was addressing a group of nine-year olds. "Do either of you know about the Hemophilia disease?" he asked. Pauline turned to her husband as the lawyer snorted in entertainment. Greg ignored him.

"Hemophilia… the absence of clotting factors eight or nine," George spoke up. "I'm a doctor. I am supposed to know these things, it's my job." He put in. Greg was mildly impressed.

"Excellent. You are of course aware of the simple genetics of hemophilia, and that your daughter, Rachel suffers from type A?" Greg inquired. George looked surprised.

"I knew about Rachel having it…" George started,

"How is this relevant, Mr. Sanders?" The lawyer butted in.

"Well, it's relevant in that Rachel suffers from this disease and George doesn't," Greg said.

"So? Her father doesn't suffer from the same disease, that doesn't prove anything!" said the attorney, who was very unaware how much it actually did prove. Greg looked at him, giving him a chance to realise and take back what he said, but the moment never came.

"It actually proves everything, so listen up," Greg warned, "sounds like you all could do with a lesson," he said, rolling a chalkboard out of the corner so they could see. Taking a piece of chalk, Greg drew an XX in the right corner and an XY in the left. Underneath both those, he drew another XX in the middle of the board. "This is Rachel," he said, pointing to the XX in the middle of the board, the one he just drew. "For her to suffer from Hemophilia, she needed to inherit the gene from both parents. It so happens that the hemophilia gene is carried on the X chromosome," he explained, circling Rachel's two X's. "Meaning, at least one of the mother's chromosomes carries it," he continued, circling one of the X's from the right, "And that the father's X chromosome carries it," he said, circling the X from the diagram in the left corner. "Whoever Rachel's father is has hemophilia." Greg finished. Pauline, who'd been quiet the entire time, finally spoke.

"Can't you prove it any other way?" She asked.

"Yes," Greg said, "with DNA, if you are willing to provide us with a sample," he told her. She still looked worried, and was determined to win the battle she'd already lost.

Greg emerged from the interrogation with two willingly donated samples of DNA to run a test of assurance.

"The case just doesn't seem finished to me," Warrick later admitted after Greg reported to the entire team that Rachel was definitely not Pauline and George's daughter.

"Yeah," Nick agreed. "It seems as though we've solved a case but we never really knew what the crime was." He added.

"Okay so we know she was taken from her biological parents, according to her, kidnapped. But, I mean… she could have been really little and misinterpreted it, maybe she was just adopted…" suggested Greg.

"But then how come she so vividly remembers her father's death?" Grissom asked, almost rhetorically.

"We need to know who her father is… or was…" Sara said. Everyone agreed.

"And the whole San Francisco fiasco…" Warrick reminded everyone. "Maybe I'll do some research… murders in San Francisco around fifteen years ago?" He said, when he caught a glare of annoyance from Grissom. Warrick left to find out what he could. As he hurried off, Grissom's phone rang. He stepped away to answer it, and two minutes later, reappeared.

"That was Brass." He said to Nick, Sara and Greg, "No passport applications have been made for a Rachel Weiss," he reported.

"Bunch of liars," Greg snorted. Sara smiled.

"Maybe something will turn up if we search their house," Nick suggested. Everyone dispersed to collect their things.

Hearing his office phone ringing, Grissom hurried to his desk to answer it.

"Grissom," he said monotonously.

"Hey, it's Catherine," she said.

"How is Lindsey? And you… how are you?" Grissom asked. There was a short pause on the other line.

"Well, we're hanging in there… umm Grissom, I phoned to say I'm on a case. Not Rachel's… or anything like that… it's a hit and run downtown. So, that's where I'll be. Okay?" Catherine said. Grissom wished her luck on her case and hung up.

"Are you an entomologist?" a voice asked. Grissom wheeled around to see Rachel standing in the doorway.

"Yes," he replied, admiring her vocabulary. She looked around and he watched her in silence, letting her browse.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Grissom asked her.

"I'm worried… about… something," she stated.

"What's that?"

"That I imagined it all," Rachel replied, "the murder… the cold night outside… her crying, the smell." Grissom thought it hard to just imagine details like that, but he went along with it, curious.

"What smell?" he inquired.

"Lead," she paused, "…do you still believe me?"

"Yes, Rachel, of course I do… but you should be aware… there's a lot of evidence that proves it actually did happen." Grissom assured her.

"But you believe me?"

"Yes,"

"Your friend Warrick Brown doesn't believe me. And I don't blame him… I mean there have been so many unbelievable things in my lifetime, I'm surprised people bother to listen," Rachel said.

"I'm listening," Grissom assured her. Rachel smiled.

"It's so rare when people do listen to me, that when they do, I don't know how to say any of it," she said.

"Somehow that makes sense," Grissom said, kind of understanding her problem.

"And I'm scared… I – I think I'm in denial or something, it's weird… but I think I've spent my entire life convincing myself of what happened, because I could convince no one else, and now… I'm having doubts anything happened at all…" she continued.

"Rachel, we have evidence that proves your story… trust me, it happened. We just need to figure it out," he insisted, repeating himself.

"Well, never mind then… don't trust the crazy girl…" she whispered, "sorry I wasted your time…" Rachel left before he could say any more, and left Grissom wondering about the conversation he just had, and its significance.

Sara, Nick, Greg and Grissom approached the Weiss residence and greeted the cop who was waiting to let them inside. Once inside, it was hard to believe anything but love ever took place. The walls were plastered with family portraits, which sickeningly looked so unknowledgeable of Rachel's past. She looked like she belonged. Nick and Grissom headed upstairs, while Sara and Greg searched the kitchen and living room on the first level.

"Mirrors…" Greg whispered to himself, running his flashlight along the various surfaces of the room.

"Yeah, what does that mean, anyways?" Sara asked, "some kind of code? Maybe… a metaphor?"

"Or, something as simple as 'use a mirror and find the clues'" Greg suggested.

"Okay you do that, Greg… while I figure out what it really means," Sara quipped. Greg shook his head and ignored her proposition. Sara looked deep in thought. "Mirrors… looking at things differently, reflections… a texture? Gosh… it could be so many things…"

"Maybe yeah… looking at things in a different way… say, a way her parents wouldn't see, and definitely looking in a way dissimilar to what we are doing now…" Greg said. Sara thought for a moment.

"Okay, so…right now we are standing… holding flashlights, looking for clues to anything anywhere." Sara said.

"What we should be doing is, sitting, drop our flashlights, and look for clues to nothing nowhere," Greg said, "Yeah that seems productive," he chimed.

"No, no… say if I was Rachel, and I had a secret, I'd maybe… write it down. Or write clues to it down, to remind myself," Sara thought out loud, "but that would risk people finding out…" she continued. Suddenly it hit her. "Oh my god… Greg…" she said, getting down to look under the table, "look!" she exclaimed.

Upstairs, Grissom and Nick had found Rachel's bedroom. It was immaculate. A bit too much so. The walls, the floor, were spotless. She must have had thirty notebooks stacked in a compulsively straight pile on her desk. The notebooks were filled with letters, just random letters. Absolutely filled. Her wall behind her desk was slathered in post - it notes, with random things such as "dentist appointment at 11", "Lindsey math test Wednesday", and regular teenage girl stuff.

"There has to be something in these notebooks," Nick said, flipping through them, but still finding nothing but gibberish. Grissom opened Rachel's closet. Clothes, boxes… regular closet stuff. The floor in the back right corner was displaced; a hidden compartment? Grissom used a short knife to pry the carpet away and found just that. He smiled and called Nick over, just as Greg and Sara came in, holding an evidence bag containing countless little notes.

"Taped to the bottom of the kitchen table," Sara announced. Impressed, but still excited about his discovery, Grissom extracted a sturdy, leather-covered box with a heavy layer of dust from the secret compartment. It was pretty small, about the size of a VHS box. He opened it. Nick, Greg, and Sara gathered around curiously. Inside was a piece of green glass, with what appeared to be blood on one side.

"It's like this piece of glass sat in a pool of blood, rather than being something that cut someone," Grissom noticed.

"Maybe," said Sara, "It's a souvenir of her father's death…"

"If it is that old, the blood would be too degraded to get any DNA off of it," Grissom said, disappointedly. Sara strode over to Rachel's desk, and started opening drawers. One didn't open all the way. Another secret compartment.

"Lord. This kid must've spent her entire life hiding this murder memorabilia," Nick said as he watched Sara try and pry the fake wall from the back of the drawer. As she pried it off, Grissom and Greg approached, anticipating another key piece of evidence. Inside, was a music box. One of the tiny wind-up kind with a barrel and piano-like keys that struck the pins on the barrel as it rotated to play a tune. Curious, Sara started to turn the crank and lonely, sad notes filled the air. Grissom smiled.

"Ahh, Strauss' Vienna Blood," he said admirably, identifying the tune. Sara abruptly stopped turning the crank, and shuddered. At that moment, Grissom's phone started ringing.

"Grissom," he answered.

"Hey, Griss, it's Warrick… umm minor crisis…" Warrick said, sounding rather shaken. Grissom suddenly felt a sinking feeling, and hesitated to answer. "Griss, who is there with you?" he asked. Grissom looked around, slightly confused. Sara, Nick and Greg looked worried, sensing uneasiness.

"Well, Greg… Nick and Sara…. Why?" Grissom asked,

"Get out of there…" Warrick said, "go to another room… this is serious…" he said. Grissom exited without another word and went downstairs.

"Warrick, you wanna tell me what the hell is going on?" Grissom demanded.

"I was looking through the murder files in San Francisco… and there were millions, no joke Griss… so I decided to narrow it down, so I was thinking… that I'd run Rachel's DNA through CODIS, see if I got a hit off a relative or something that could narrow the field…" Warrick was stalling, not wanting to reveal the rest of what he found. By now, even Grissom was shaking with fear… not terror, but fear for knowing the truth. "And I did, Griss… to one murder… and it's really bad, I don't know how to say this…"Warrick almost whimpered.

"You got a hit?" Grissom whispered, "who?"

Meanwhile, Greg had been gazing at the contents of that same drawer.

"Guys, there's a necklace in there… it matches the bracelet we found…" He said, pointing to a sparkling chain that lay strewn among the scattered contents of the drawer.

"Get it, Greg, it backs up Rachel's story…" Nick instructed, as Grissom came back in, looking flustered. "Who was that?" Nick asked. Grissom paused.

"Catherine… she… she needs help on her case," Grissom lied, "Sara, would… would you go?" he insisted. Moments after she left, he took a deep breath and prepared to report to Nick and Greg the latest developments.