My Best Enemy

Chapter Nine

Sara slipped into the chair across from Grissom's desk, her frustration evident. It had been a week since the last victim was attacked and died and she was no closer to finding the perpetrator.

"Anything viable from the victims?" Grissom questioned taking in her tense posture.

"Nothing. They said he wore a ski mask and got them from behind. Each victim was raped with a foreign object. A weapon of opportunity. Flashlight, candle, etc., what ever was close to where the assault took place. Never any actual penile penetration. We've got foreign DNA from the apartments, but nothing to compare it to. Jackie has some prints."

"There wasn't any trace from under their nails or skin? None had a chance to fight back?"

"Nooo." Eyeing him warily. "All of the evidence from last victim hasn't been processed yet. DNA is backed up. Maybe we'll find something there."

"Maybe."

"You know Griss," Sara started after an uncomfortable silence had lapsed between them. "People are warned time and again, not to fight back. Chances of survival are higher if the victim doesn't fight back, not to mention that some perpetrators totally get off on the struggle." She wasn't sure why his question irritated her.

Realizing he hit a sore point, Grissom moved on, but made a mental note to ponder the conversation later. "And, the women don't know or have never seen one another? Other than in the neighborhood occasionally." Sara shook her head no. "You didn't recognize any of them?"

"No, Griss. I'm hardly ever at home. And when I am, it's just to sleep. I couldn't even tell you what the next block looked like until a few days ago when I canvassed the area."

"Okay. Find out if any of them purchased new furniture or appliances and had them delivered. You said that hasn't been any sign of forced entry. We need to know how they got in."

"Yes." Sara caught on to his line of thinking, wondering why she hadn't thought of this before. She had checked for basic commonalities, like newspaper and mail carriers. Sara had also compared their favorite take out restaurants and local dry cleaners but had skipped the basic male involved interactions. The activity in her suddenly hectic personal life were distracting her professionally, causing her to overlook the obvious. She would have to deal with that. "Maybe someone they all used for repairs. I'll check with the real estate agency. See who does their maintenance."

"Good. But first, we'll have lunch."

Sara smiled. "Sounds good." She would deal with it. But not today.

The next day, Sara got a break.

"I got him!" Sara exclaimed as she burst into Grissom's office.

"Let's hear it."

"Terry Jeter." She slapped a copy of his rap sheet on the desk. "I can place him in all three of the victim's homes."

"How? The DNA came back?" Grissom questioned, sliding his glasses on his nose.

"No, let's not go there. I don't know what's up with DNA. I did, however, speak with the manager. They hired him as an independent contractor for maintenance. Jackie also matched his prints."

"Good job." Grissom continued to read the report. "He's got a DUI and parking tickets. Nothing violent."

"No, but it's enough to bring him in for questioning." Sara returned with a trademark grin.

While Grissom waited for Brass and Sara to round up the suspect, he went in search of Greg. He found him bouncing in front of the coffee maker. "You sure you haven't had enough already?"

"No such thing, Boss." The CSI trainee straighten his clothing unnecessarily in an attempt to calm himself.

"Uh, Greg. DNA's backed up because Mia is out with pneumonia and the temp can't handle the work load. He screwed up some samples from days and it's doubtful that he'll be returning after tonight."

"And this is my problem how?"

Grissom raised an eyebrow at the subordinate's tone, butlet go feeling guilty.

"I hate to do this to you, but Greg, the Director is requesting your assistance in the Lab."

"As a Tech? He can't demote me like that!" The younger man sputtered in astonishment.

"Actually, it's not a demotion." Grissom countered mildly. "Lab Tech's get paid more than CSI Level One's, you know that."

"It's never been about the money, Grissom." He argued back defiantly, there was no way he was going back to being a lab rat. Not after his experience in the field.

"I know Greg. Two weeks tops and we'll be happy to have you back with us and you will be in the Director's good graces." Greg still did not look convinced. "You were a great Lab Tech. The team really relied heavily on your capabilities. Now as a CSI, you know how important processing evidence is for us. Once again, we need to rely on your expertise. Don't think of it as a demotion, but a gift that only you have on the team. We would appreciate your help."

"All right." The deflated CSI finally conceded. "Two weeks and I'm out of there."

"Very good, Greg. Very good."

Interview Room One…

Sara watched quietly as Brass interviewed Terry Jeter. The suspect's demeanor was relaxed while he blatantly flirted with her. He complied gracefully when presented with a warrant for his DNA. His behavior was nothing at all like a man that had murdered a woman, raped and brutally beaten several others. He didn't exactly fit the profile of a serial rapist either.

Terry Jeter was tall with white hair that contrasted shockingly against his smooth dark brown skin. She couldn't help but notice that he was in excellent physical shape for his early fifties. The man was an over all attractive package with a deep southern drawl and a personality she was sure drew many women's attention.

Given the violence involved, the crimes were probably committed by a younger guy. Younger men tended to have less impulse control. Mr. Jeter didn't give the impression of being a man that lost control easily.

"We'd like to have a look at your upper torso." Brass asked kindly.

"Sure." Jeter surprisingly agreed, then turned to look directly at Sara. "But only if Ms. Beautiful does it." He smiled, flashing a row bright white, perfectly even teeth.

Sara blushed under his scrutiny.

"Not a chance Romeo. Would you please stand and remove your shirt?" The police captain requested.

"No, Sir. I'll only undress for the lady."

Good manners where usually a sign of education, Sara noted mentally. She also suspected it was also indicative of Southern charm, which Mr. Jeter had plenty of.

Sara shifted uncomfortably as the suspect continued to appraise her openly.

"Look Mr. Jeter-" Brass tried again.

"Unless you have a warrant, no one's touching me other than Ms. Sidle." Jeter leaned back in his chair, giving Sara a sly wink.

He knows the law. Having knowledge of basic law could mean that he's been formerly schooled in or researched the subject of law enforcement, or have had significant exposure to it. Or he may simply be a television crime show buff. Didn't matter, she wasn't going to read too much into it.

"I'll do it." Sara smiled superficially, agreeing to play his game only because waiting for another warrant was a waste of time. They didn't have enough evidence. Sara knew that no DNA had been found on the victim's person, but there was still be a chance that they would find defensive wounds on the perp. Grounds for the initial warrant had been flimsy but the judge agreed because he was just as anxious to get the guy, but even he would only give them so much. Violating the suspect's rights would only get the case thrown out and a killer/ rapist set free. This had to be done strictly on a volunteer basis. She would strip him to his underwear if it meant that the creep would be off of the streets.

Brass looked back at the two way mirror with a shrug. He would pay money to see how Grissom was reacting to this turn of events.

Sara completed the task without incident, ignoring Jeter's pointed stares.

Meanwhile, in the observation room, Grissom was damn near at stroke level. Catherine and Warrick could barely hold him inside the room when Jeter reacted as Sara's gloved hand barely grazed his chest as she removed his shirt.

"Can you account for your day on the dates listed here?" Sara continued on in disappointment when her body search yielded no results. She leaned forward to push the paper in front of Jeter.

Jeter in turned, leaned forward, taking in a good view of Sara's cleavage.

"Sit back, asshole." Brass grasped Jeter by the shoulder, pushing him back into the chair.

"I was working." The man answered simply, unphazed.

"Anything more specific?" Sara continued, ready to wrap up the interview.

"I work freelance in the evenings when I'm done with the real estate agency. You know, do things that the lease won't cover."

"Would you please write down the names of the places you worked recently?" Sara asked patiently. Though in reality, she was loosing patience and the hope that this was the guy. Her gut instinct told her that this was not the guy.

He took his time writing, then after several minutes, passed the paper to Sara.

"So, any reason as to why your prints were found at three crime scenes?" None of the addresses he listed matched the victims.

"Maybe. I am a master plumber. The single women tend to pass my name around."

"A regular Mr. Fix It." Brass threw in sarcastically.

"Actually yes." He leaned forward and removed a card from his rear pocket and slid it across the table towards Sara.

"Call me if you need anything." He winked as Sara studied the card. "I'm right around the corner from you."

Sara's startled eyes flew up to meet his. "You know where I live?"

"Yes. How could I forget the beautiful brunette from 403, Building D?"

"Get your ass up!" Brass pulled the man up by his shirt collars. "Take him to holding."

No sooner than one door closed, the opposite door slammed open, with Grissom barreling inside.

"What the hell was that, Brass? He just marked Sara and we don't even have enough to hold him!" Grissom bellowed.

"Settle down. We'll keep someone on him twenty four seven." Brass tried to calm his friend.

"What about Sara? Is she just supposed to hang around like a sitting duck? I want someone on her as well."

"Gil, there's been no threat. Nothing to justify the expense."

"He knows where she lives, Jim. What more do you need?"

"He works in the complex. Legally, he has a right to be there. But, I'll have the guys do a directed patrol of the Sara's street."

"Hello, I'm right here." Sara waved between the two.

Grissom spun around to acknowledge Sara for the first time. "You didn't help matters any!" He spat out in disgust.