Chapter 11 "It's my fault"

Someone was crying. The sound grew in volume until it was all she could hear. Hailey found herself standing at the top of a set of stairs, listening intently to the sobbing, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Tentatively she took a step down, and then another, aware that the sound was increasing with each move she made. As much as she walked, she didn't seem to be getting any closer to the source of the crying. So she ran. Faster and faster, not caring if she tripped and fell, only aware of the fact that someone was in trouble and she had to get to them. Finally her speed paid off, and she reached the last step.

Kelsey. Kelsey was the one crying, but that wasn't right. Kelsey was dead, so how could she be crying? Hailey watched, frozen on the bottom stair. Kelsey wasn't making a sound. The crying was coming from Hailey. A younger version of herself, sitting on the ground, clasping her baby sister in her arms. It wasn't a dream, wasn't a nightmare. Hailey was stuck in a memory. This was the worst day of her life, a day she had tried to block out of her mind. She watched as her younger self rocked slowly back and forth, singing a lullaby to the limp form of her sister. 'Hush little baby, don't say a word...' She had only been nine, but she had known, somehow, that Kelsey was forever gone.

Reluctant to get any closer, Hailey none the less felt compelled to move. She took a step closer, and then another, kneeling down on the ground beside the two little girls. She reached out her hand to brush the stray hairs out of Kelsey's round face. She looked just like she was sleeping, except for the blank stare. Young Hailey turned to look at her, eyes carrying the same

haunted look Hailey had seen in the mirror yesterday. "Mama told me to look after her. I promised her I would. You always have to look after the ones you love." Hailey looked down to see her sister again, but she was gone. In her place, Lindsey was laying on the ground. Her eyes were open, the same dead expression in them that she had seen in Kelsey's eyes.

She couldn't go back to sleep. Couldn't risk closing her eyes and seeing Kelsey or Lindsey again. Picking up her robe from the end of the bed where she had thrown it the night before, Hailey wrapped the soft blue chenille around herself and left the nightmare drenched room behind. She didn't turn on any lights as she walked down the hallway. As she passed by the living room she noted that the couch was empty. Her uncle must still be at work. Before leaving he had insisted that Ellie take his bedroom to sleep in, that he would use the couch when, if, he got home. Hopefully his absence was a good sign.

When she reached the kitchen Hailey turned on the dim light above the stove and set the burner underneath the tea pot to high. Maybe a mug of chamomile tea would help to calm the adrenaline in her system. She was not enough of an optimist to believe that it would work to erase the images flashing behind her eyes. Hearing a sound behind her, Hailey didn't turn around but instead reached for a second mug.

"Would you like some tea, El?"

"Hell no. Don't see how you can drink that stuff. Bunch of dried flowers and hot water. Not for me." Ellie wrinkled her nose as she opened the door to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Flat Tire Ale. Of the many things she could hold against her dad, at least he didn't buy any sissy lite beers. "You want one of these?"

"Hell no. Don't see how you can drink that stuff," Hailey mimicked, laughing. It was a slightly forced sound, but it still felt good.

"So what are you doing up at three in the morning, brat?" Ellie used the weight of her arms resting on the counter to pull herself up onto its ledge.

Hailey busied herself finding a tea bag and the plastic honey bear before answering.

"I had a dream," she stated, trying to make less of it then it was.

"A nightmare," Ellie clarified, knowing her cousin.

"A nightmare," Hailey admitted. "I saw Kelsey. It looked just like that night when Bruce... I couldn't protect her, Ellie, and I didn't protect Lindsey either. This is all my fault."

"Bullshit." Ellie set down her beer and slid off of the counter. She tugged at Hailey's arm until they were facing each other.

"If I thought that was really how you felt, I'd have to smack you upside the head. Nothing that is happening is your fault. Not now, and not then. Bruce is a murdering bastard, and if there really is such thing as karma, he's currently the girlfriend of some convict named Butch. The people who kidnapped your friend are bastards, and I hope to God that they pay for what they did. You are an innocent victim, who happened to get caught up in a world with too many bad guys. None of this is your fault. None of it." She watched her cousin closely, looking for any sign that she was accepting what she was hearing. There was still doubt in her eyes.

"Blaming yourself isn't what Kelsey would want, and it's not going to help your friend. The world is full of bastards, most of the male population as a matter of fact, and all we can do is acknowledge that fact and stay away from them as much as possible."

"Not all men are that bad." Hailey understood where Ellie was coming from, but still felt that she had to argue the point.

"Yeah? Name five men who aren't out to use the people around them and then throw them away." It was a pointless argument, but Ellie was more then willing to continue. She was just relieved to see the last vestiges of nightmare disappear from the brown eyes facing her.

"Greg, Warrick, Nick, Grissom, and Uncle Jimmy," Hailey replied.

"Fine. I concede the point. Maybe there are some good guys out there. If you've managed to find that many, it just goes to prove what I've been saying. You're a good person, if those are the kind of people you connect with." She thought about the people that waited for her in LA, and questioned once again what kind of person she was. Hookers and drug dealers, those were her friends. That was who she was. Hailey, she would make sure, would never become like her.

"I'm older then both of them. I should have been able to do something." Hailey could understand, on a rational level, that neither tragedy was her own fault. Her heart was not convinced.

"I'm eight years older then you. By your logic, what happened to you and Kelsey was my fault." It was mean to say, but Ellie hoped it would get her point across.

"No. Ellie, no. It was never your fault." She was shocked that Ellie would even say such a thing.

"You can't have it both ways. You either have to pass the blame on to me, or stop piling it on yourself." Hailey nodded. She still wasn't one hundred percent convinced, but their conversation had given her a lot to think about.

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to bed. Jet lag and time zone changes make me tired." She finished the last of the beer, tossing the brown bottle into the trash can on her way out of the room.

"You took a bus, and California is in the same time zone, you dork," Hailey reminded her cousin.

"Whatever."

II

"This is my fault." Everyone in the room turned to look at Sam, the looks on their faces ranging from confusion to concern to agreeance. What had started out as a meeting between Catherine, Sam, Grissom, Sara and Warrick had expanded to include Brass, Greg, Nick, Jacqui, Ronnie, and even Hodges. Everyone wanted to discuss what they had learned, and try to piece together what it meant.

"Unless you arranged to have my daughter kidnapped, this is hardly your fault." Sam was horrified at the thought, but relieved to see the trust in Catherine's eyes. On this subject, at least, she was confident of her faith in him. He was afraid her trust might be misplaced. While it was true that he never wanted anything like this to happen, his actions might prove to be the trigger that had started everything. He stared at the torn business card, protected by a layer of plastic. Smudged of black showed where it had been unsuccessfully dusted for prints.

"I do have Belhurtz, Jenkins and Smyth on retainer for my casinos, but I also use them when I personally need a lawyer."

"Have you used their services lately, outside of work?" Despite the many people in the room, it was clear that Grissom was the one asking the questions. He tried to keep his voice even, but a combination of worry, fatigue, and distrust of the man across from him made his tone more then a little harsh.

"Yes. About a month ago, I had some legal documents drawn up. Most importantly, I made a new will." This is not the way he wanted it to come out, in a room of strangers. Sam wasn't even sure how many of them had known of his relationship with Catherine before tonight. Grissom did, and it was one of the many reasons the man disliked him. Sam also suspected

that Warrick Brown was not completely surprised to learn that he was Catherine's father. There was a keen understanding in the green eyes that watched him, and if Warrick was more then just his daughter's coworker, Sam thought he might approve of the pair. He made a mental note to run a background check on the man, though, before turning his thoughts back to the current discussion.

"What did you change in your will, and how does it pertain to this case?"

"I never got around to changing my will after Tony was killed. It was too painful at the time. I am not getting any younger, though, and decided that I need to make sure the people I care about are taken care of. There are pensions for various staff, and donations to my favorite charities. The bulk of my estate, including all three casinos, my ranch, and all my stocks

and bonds, will go to Lindsey, to be held in trust until her twenty fifth birthday."

"What?" Catherine gasped, staring at Sam with her eyes wide. The check he had sent a couple of years ago had been a surprise. This was so far beyond that. She couldn't begin to think of what to say.

"I have one son in prison, the other in the ground. You and Lindsey are all that remains of my family, and I will do everything I can to make sure you are protected." He ignored all the other people present in the room, and focused on his daughter. He wasn't just talking about the money now, and he needed to make sure she knew that.

Catherine didn't know how to respond. She could take care of her daughter herself. She didn't want or need his blood money. Didn't need his guilt. She did need to maintain the fragile peace between them, though, so all she said was "It isn't necessary."

"It is to me. When I'm gone, you can sell everything, or donate it to charity, or blow it up, if that will make you feel better."

"Who knew about the changes to your will?" Warrick spoke, reminding Sam and Catherine that they weren't alone in the room. Catherine jolted at the voice, but then glanced at him, grateful to him for putting the focus back where it needed to be. He returned her gaze, comforting her without word or touch.