V
"Hi Samantha. Is it okay if we ask you a few questions?" Sara sat down opposite of the girl and placed her hands on the desk, trying to appear as harmless and open as she could. "The lady with you," Sara nodded towards the woman sitting next to Samantha Landworth, "is here to make sure that we treat you nicely, and that you understand our questions."
The girl nodded. With solemn eyes and a bleak expression she reminded Sara too much of a younger self. "Would you like some water, or maybe a soft drink? I think we have it stashed here somewhere."
"Apple juice?"
"Hmm," Sara hummed a little in thought, a soft smile playing on her lips. No need to be overbearing and exuberant. It would only be more uncomfortable for Samantha. "Let me go and check, okay?"
Seeing her slight nod Sara stood, and after enquiring if the child's advocate also wanted something she walked out of the room in search of the drinks.
---
"Sara?"
She turned and stood, waiting for Grissom to catch up from his observation point a few feet away. "I was on my way to get some juice and water, want some as well?" Not really waiting for a response, she continued to the break room.
He shrugged his shoulders in a mock exasperated way, said "Don't see why not," and caught up with her, ending up walking side by side.
"Found something new on the case?" As usual, she cut right to the case when it was work related.
"Actually, that's why I'm here. The blood you found on the wall is a match to the victim. It contained traces of Zoloft. She did see a psychologist, but since they aren't qualified to prescribe such medication…" One eyebrow was raised in typical Grissom style, and his hands fluttered somewhat in the air, a sure cue for Sara to cut in.
"… and we didn't find any drugs in her medicine cabinet or bathroom, it might not have belonged to her." She held up a glass in a silent question to Grissom. Upon his nod she poured some water and handed it to him. "Did you check if the husband has a prescription?"
"Brass did. No record of him ever having seen a psychiatrist, nor of any type of medication. He's as clean as a whistle."
Sara frowned and opened up a cupboard, taking out the last remaining ceramic mug and three plastic cups. "Hey, did Brass do a background check on the psychologist Jane was seeing? Perhaps he's not as clean as we think he is."
"He's working on it. What are you thinking?" The look on her face was one of trying to fit several pieces of the puzzle, creating missing ones by interpreting the evidence and ideas.
Sara turned to him, leaning her hip against the counter. "Perhaps she had an affair with him behind the suspect's back? It wouldn't be the first time for a woman who has been abused to seek love and affection, even respect, with another man. Maybe she was even thinking about leaving him."
Something was telling that there was a more personal side to that comment than she let on, but all he was willing to do right now was to file it away in his memory and continue with the case. "I'll see if Brass can come up with anything."
A short silence ensued, in which Sara filled the plastic cups with water, the pot with coffee. "Well, I'm about to head back and interview the daughter. Maybe she can help us." She resolutely handed the coffee to Grissom before picking up the remaining three cups and walked with long strides and straightened posture towards the interview room.
Just as she reached the door to the hallway she turned towards him, in response to her name.
"You…" His brow furrowed slightly and instead of talking, he took up the space in front of her.
He was close, too close for her liking. At least for the situation they were in. She didn't need the clichéd fluttering heartbeat and urge to cup his cheek while they stood in plain view of anyone who walked in the hallway. Sara took a deep breath, calming herself, trying to placate her erotic desires by silently telling them they could play out in her dreams. There was a girl back in questioning, and she was more important. "Something wrong?"
"Not wrong per se. I was wondering if maybe," His eyes flitted around the space around them, observing the emptiness with relief, then to the doorframe, floor, and finally at Sara's eyes. "If maybe you'd like to have dinner with me, tonight? Not breakfast. Dinner."
She couldn't contain her smile no matter how hard she tried. Which was not all that much, truth be told. Her bright and honest smile not only lit up her face, but also her eyes, and he wanted to kiss her right there and then, letting some of that exuberance slip into his soul and warm him even more than he already was.
"If I agree to a yes, would you do more than just look at me like I'm your next dinner?"
"What?" He was completely and utterly lost.
She chuckled and looked at him a last time. "See you at eight. Your place." And then she was out of the room.
Grissom threw a baffled look at the coffee that was still in his hand and brought it to his lips, inhaling that particular scent and grinning. Strong and fresh, just like Sara.
---
"Here you go." Sara placed the plastic cups on the table and sat down. Seeing that Samantha eyed the apple juice but made no move to actually pick it up, Sara picked up her own drink and took a sip, hoping that the girl would (subconsciously) follow her example.
It was always difficult, questioning a minor, especially one who had just lost her mother at such a tender age, but it might provide some helpful information to further incriminate the suspect. The fact that the suspect was the girl's father was weighing down all too heavily on Sara's mind.
---
Grissom sat back in his chair and tossed the note on his desk. Anger marred his face and his thumb rubbed the underside of his ring finger; a definite sign of frustration.
"The bastard. That god damn selfish bastard." Sara stood from the chair she had only come to recently occupy and paced the room. "He killed his wife, and now this?"
For one absurd moment, Grissom worried that she would grab the glass jars from the shelves and hurl them one by one at the wall.
"Ecklie didn't even page us! Don't tell me he didn't know that this was our case. The moment they found their bodies, we should have been notified!" She wearily sank back into the chair, throwing her head back and closing her eyes.
Several long, silent seconds later she looked him straight in the eye. "He killed her. He killed his wife, and instead of facing the consequences, he takes the coward's way out. And takes his daughter with him the moment she comes home. I just…Bastard." She trailed off and shrugged, unable to voice her anger and disappointment and pain.
"I know." The bottle of scotch in the bottom drawer of his desk almost seemed to be calling their names, but he resisted the temptation.
"Alcohol isn't really the best way to forget, is it?"
He had an inkling of where this was going, and he wasn't sure that he was entirely comfortable with it. "Forget what?"
"Samantha. The past. My dad."
His lips parted as he tried to come up with an answer, but it only resulted in a shifting of jaws as he mulled over the words. "I don't have an answer for that, Sara."
She nodded. "I know. I didn't expect you to have an answer, actually."
For a while, silence reigned king in the office.
"Well, perhaps you have to find a diversion." The words were soft spoken and gently optimistic, not an admonishment but rather a kind repeat of words spoken so long ago. A quick look at his watch and he looked at Sara again. "Shift's over."
"Yeah." She grabbed her purse and stood.
With his hands lightly folded on the desk, he looked up at her. "Come home with me."
"Grissom," Sara shook her head lightly, "I won't make for particularly good company right now."
"I know", and he smiled lightly. "Neither will I. But we can try, can't we? I think there's some of that cheesecake leftover in the fridge from last time."
"And?"
"It's waiting for you to finish it."
"Grissom…" She was weary and tired and again disillusioned in mankind. Her previous manners of coping hadn't had the desired effect, perhaps it was time for a change.
She sighed in mock exasperation as she saw him pout mockingly. "Alright, alright. I'll come over." Walking towards the closed door, she turned around. "See ya in 30. And you'd better have enough cheesecake left."
Finis.