Chapter Seventeen

"Well, what did Hodges tell you about the bike treads?" Gil spoke into his cell phone as he gathered a few papers from his desk. He sighed. "Sara, there has to be some kind of evidence at the house. Someone did enter and kidnap the youngest son." Gil had to smile at Sara's fiery and sarcastic retort. "No, I'm sure Warrick didn't look there."

He picked up the papers and headed down the hall for the conference room. He would be briefing only a small portion of the regular team, as Sara was already at the house where the kidnapping took place, and Nick was home resting. "Well, Sara, I don't know what to tell you. I'll send Warrick over in just a few. Yes, you can have Greg, too. All right. Bye."

Gil pushed open the door without looking up, and started reading form his assignment slips. "Okay, Warrick and Greg, you guys are going back over to the Overton house. Sara's already there. Catherine, we have male D.B. over in Meadow Park."

"What about me?"

Gil's ears perked up at the one voice he hadn't anticipated on hearing, and he fixed Nick's grinning face with a surprised, albeit authoritative, look. "I thought you were home resting."

Nick shrugged. "I rested. And then I felt like working."

Gil's eyes lingered on Nick for a moment before panning over the others in the room. Warrick shrugged, Greg raised his eyebrows, and Catherine held up her hands.

"It's fine with me," she said.

Of course it was. Catherine didn't want to be at odds with Nick any longer. Here they were, setting up a united front. But not against Nick, against Gil. He frowned. He wasn't the bad guy. There wasn't a bad guy, just a bad situation.

Gil sighed, resigned. "All right. You can come with me and – "

Catherine cleared her throat. " – go with Warrick to the Overton house," she finished, barely missing a beat. "Greg, you can work with me and Grissom."

Gil frowned at Catherine, but she ignored it. He didn't really care if she mixed up the teams, but he liked to be consulted.

"Let's roll," Warrick said to Nick. He made a move as if to punch him in the arm, something that he often did, but instead let his arm fall to his side. If Nick noticed, he played it off very well.

The two guys left and Gil stared at Catherine. "Greg, could you excuse us for a moment?"

Greg sat up in his chair. "Sure."

"Just wait in my office."

Greg nodded and left the room as well.

Once he was gone, Gil raised his eyebrows at his co-supervisor. "So, what did you do that for?"

Catherine smiled and shook her head. "It's a good thing you're not a parent, because you would be so clueless."

"What does that mean?"

Catherine sighed. "Oh, Gil. Haven't you learned anything?"

She stood and walked around the table, sitting on the edge so they were facing each other. "You can't tell him that he can stay and work and then put him on a case with you. That's sending mixed messages. It's saying that you accept he's capable of the work, but not so much that you trust him out of your reach…you understand?"

Truth be told, Gil felt that Catherine's tone was a little patronizing, but she did make a good point. "I guess you're right."

She smiled. "Yeah. I am." She hopped down from the table. "Now let's get out to that D.B."

After Sara hung up with Grissom, she tossed her phone onto the passenger seat of the SUV. She was incredibly frustrated. She'd been working the case nearly all day, and she was getting worried. She knew the first twenty-four hours were the most important in finding a missing person. After that, all bets were off.

Sara walked around to the back of the house and stared once again at the back door. There were no obvious signs of forced entry, but there were a couple of impressions from bike tires that the Overtons had said weren't there yesterday.

Sara put her hands on her hips and sighed. She entered the house and headed for the boy's room, a room she and Warrick had already gone over several times. Her field kit already lay open on the floor, and she stooped to grab a brush and fingerprint powder.

"This," she said to the empty room, "is war."

Sara spent the next half hour dusting every surface of the room, and didn't even notice when the guys arrived at the house.

A low whistle sounded from the doorway, and Sara jumped and spun, flinging powder as she did. She straightened and tried to regain some dignity as Warrick and Nick looked around the room, trying not to smile. They failed miserably.

"I'm thorough," Sara said. She glanced around the room and blushed a bit at the coat of black powder that covered nearly every object in the room.

"Sure," Nick said, and the same Warrick said, "I see."

Sara threw her arms out. "There's absolutely nothing here! Maybe Kyle just ran away."

Nick glanced sideways at her. "Isn't he five?"

Sara crossed her arms defensively. "I would have."

"Guys," Warrick said, setting down his kit, "can we be crime scene investigators now?" He glanced around the room. "Okay, Sara, are you getting any prints outta this? Or are you just seeing how much powder one room can hold?"

Nick suppressed a laugh, and Sara glared, although she was smiling. "I got a couple off of the window ledge."

Warrick frowned. "The window ledge? I thought we were looking at an intruder that came from the back door?"

Nick jerked his head. "I'll print the outside of the window."

Warrick nodded. "Yeah, and I'll have a look at the other windows. We'll leave Sara here in the land that vacuums forgot."

Nick grinned and left the room.

Sara waited for Warrick to leave as well, but he lingered a moment, and Sara took the hint. "He seems okay."

Warrick nodded. "Yeah, he does."

"Aren't you happy about that?"

"Of course I am. I'm just always going to wonder if it's genuine, or if something else is really going on with him. He's been playin' with us for a while now." Warrick grabbed his kit off of the ground.

"I have to admit," Sara said, "he does seem better. So maybe our little intervention wasn't such a bad thing."

Warrick nodded again. "If we can get him to that therapist, then I'll call it a success."

He left the room, and Sara turned back to the window, where a few prints popped out at her.

As she used a tape lift to collect the prints, she found herself smiling. She had a feeling that they were going to find Kyle Overton, because they were working together. It was just that it wouldn't hurt to have some evidence to back up her good feeling.

Nick chewed his lip, studying the window frame in front of him. They'd been goofing around inside, and it felt natural again and he was immensely grateful for that, but it was time to get serious. A little boy's life hung in the balance.

Through the window, he could see Sara still moving around the room. He smiled as she lifted and shook an empty fingerprint powder container, a frustrated look on her face.

Nick knocked lightly on the window with his knuckles. "You want some of mine?"

Sara looked embarrassed for a second, then nodded.

He had extras. Nick grabbed one of the small containers and started to push up the window. It didn't budge. Nick frowned.

"Maybe you need to hit the gym more often," Sara called from inside.

Nick shook his head. "Sara, this window isn't movin.' Is it locked?"

Sara peeked up at the top of the window frame. She shook her head. "Doesn't have one."

Nick's frown deepened as he carefully looked over the window frame. A small spot in the corner drew his eye, and he squinted. It was a small, raised bump, and it had been painted over.

"Sara, I think your theory that he ran away might be gaining some support."

"What?"

Nick pointed, although he knew she couldn't see what he was looking at through the other side of the window. "This window's nailed shut."

Sara's eyes widened. "Hold on."

A moment later, she joined Nick outside. She wore a frown to match his. "Why would they nail his window shut?"

Nick shook his head, and started to say something, when Warrick came around the side of the house.

"Hey, guys, did you know that the windows – "

" – are nailed shut?" Sara finished. "Yeah."

Warrick put his hands on his hips. "How did we miss that?"

Nick grinned. "'Cause you didn't have me with you."

Warrick snorted and pulled out his cell phone. "Yeah," he said, punching in Brass's number. "That must be it."

To be continued...