A/N: I'm going, I'm going! I'm really trying to get more of this story out! And I'm probably going to go back to Like Cinderella in a few days. I think I'm coming out of my bad-writing spell.
Chapter Three
Jim Brass didn't consider himself a wise man. But, he was wise enough to know that when love presents itself to someone on a silver platter, only a fool would turn it away.
Which made Gil Grissom, a first class, grade-A, verified fool.
Sara Sidle was a catch. No other woman could keep up with Grissom quite like Sara could. Brass poured himself a glass of scotch. I sure hope Gil pulls his head out of his ass soon. Sara won't wait around forever.
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"Thank you for dinner." Sara took a sip of her wine. "It was really nice."
"I'm glad you thought so." Victor signed the check. "I'm sorry for being such a terrible date tonight. I promise I'm not usually this bad."
"It's perfectly okay. Your daughter is missing. I understand."
"I feel like a horrible parent too. My daughter is out there somewhere and I can't do anything."
"You have done something. You called Grissom and me and we're doing everything we know how to do to find her."
"I know." Victor accepted his credit card from the waiter. "I'd like to try this again tomorrow."
"That sounds fine." Sara smiled.
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Grissom paced the length of his room. It's already 11:30. Where is she? Grissom fumed.
He heard the door next to his room open and close. He stormed through their connecting door. "Where the Hell were you?" Grissom snapped.
Sara shrieked and clutched a shirt to her chest. "Jesus Christ, Grissom! I'm changing."
"Where were you?" Grissom barked again.
"Out. With Victor." She shot back.
"What were you doing out with Victor?"
Sara squinted at him as though she were trying to figure out where he'd obtained the crack he was so clearly smoking. "You know damn well what I was doing. I was out on a date. To see if there was connection between the two of us. And you know what? It was a nice evening. We're going out tomorrow." Sara tugged the nightshirt over her head. "Victor knows what he wants and he can tell me. You have no right to get upset with me for trying to move on!"
"Sara –"
"No. Get out. I don't want to talk to you right now, Grissom."
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"Ms. Willows, it's nice to finally meet you." Mr. Wiltman pumped her hand. "Your father spoke fondly of you. I'm David Wiltman, head of your father's team of lawyers. Please, call me David."
"David," Catherine began. "Sam requested that I see you in the event of his death."
"Of course. I'm the executor of his estate. I have a copy of his will in the safe deposit box in my office. Follow me."
Catherine sat in an overstuffed leather chair.
"About six months ago, your father came to me, wanting to make some serious changes to his will. With Tony dead and Walt in jail, you're the sole heir of Sam's estate. Almost everything goes to you. All of his property, his money, it's yours, Ms. Willows. Except for two million dollars, which is to be placed in a trust fund under the name Lindsey Willows and is to be inaccessible until Lindsey is twenty-one, on the condition that she goes to college. He also purchased a horse for her, but hadn't been able to give it to her. He requests that you pass the horse on to her. So if you could just sign a few documents for me, you'll be a wealthy woman."
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Catherine nearly couldn't believe it. Overnight, she'd become a millionaire, if not a billionaire. While she sat at the break room table at CSI, eating her dinner, David Wiltman was transferring Pike's Gambling Hall, The Rampart, Whiskey Town, and Sam's other casinos into her name. Tomorrow he'd transfer the deed on Sam's palatial 10-acre compound. Lindsey would have a car. Sam left Lindsey his BMW. Catherine got the Alfa Romeo, the Audi TT, and the limo. With the chauffeur.
Catherine had a fucking chauffeur.
Catherine flopped on the break room couch and checked the time. Only midnight. Warrick would probably still be awake.
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"Sara?" Veronica tapped on the door. "Can I come in?"
"Sure. What do you need?"
"I thought of something. Steve's dad and mom got divorced last year. I saw his car in the driveway when I was driving home from swimming. Maybe it was nothing, but the divorce was pretty bitter. I can't think of a reason why he would be there."
"I'm sorry, but I don't really understand the significance…"
"Mr. and Mrs. Macklin divorced because Mr. Macklin was arrested. For statutory rape. I've seen him. He has a bad temper and I wouldn't be at all surprised if he…escalated. I know it sounds stupid and probably means nothing, but the Macklins' house is the last place we know Amy was, and –"
"That's a good idea, Veronica. I'll let Grissom know and we'll check it out." Sara grabbed a pad of paper. "What was his name?"
"Dave Macklin."
"Okay. I'll make sure we check into it. Thank you."
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"We've got a suspect." Sara informed Grissom coolly.
"Who?"
"Dave Macklin. Veronica said it might be nothing, but she got a funny feeling about it."
"About what?"
"Dave Macklin."
"Okay, I guess it's worth a shot." Grissom conceded.
"Sara –" Grissom grabbed her elbow.
"Yeah?" Sara didn't turn around.
"Look, I um…" He sighed. "Never mind."
Sara smiled sadly. "Yeah. That's usually how it is."
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Warrick knew he could seduce any woman in the bar where he was currently sipping on a beer. Warrick preferred wine to beer, but found it impossible to find a bar with a good wine list.
"You alone?" A statuesque blonde sat on the barstool next to him.
"I was." He responded, flashing her a smile that turned almost every woman he'd met weak in the knees.
"I'm Kelline." She introduced herself. "But I go by Kelli. Nobody except me grandmother calls me Kelline." Her musical laugh cut into Warrick's thoughts, drawing his attention back to the present. "So you've got my name, but I'm sadly ignorant of what your name is."
"Warrick." Another flash of his pearly whites.
"You don't look like you're enjoying your beer." Kelli motioned to the still nearly-full bottle.
"And why do you say that?" Kelli had captured his interest.
"Bottle is still nearly full, placed far enough away that you would have to lean to get it, and…" She tapped a finger against the side of the bottle. "Still warm. You, Warrick, are not a beer man. At least not today. Not mixed drinks either. Too…foofy for you. So you must like wine. Red, I bet. Richer, darker, heavier."
Warrick raised an eyebrow. "And how do you know all of that?"
"I'm a private detective." She shrugged.
Warrick grinned. "I'm feeling hungry. You wanna get dinner?"
Kelli looked shyly into her martini. "You know what I have a serious craving for?"
Warrick prayed it wasn't something totally healthful like soy ice cream or baked seaweed chips.
"Pizza." Kelli finished off her martini. "Greasy, fattening, everything-on-it-but-the-kitchen-sink pizza."
My kind of woman! Warrick silently cheered.
"I know this is going to sound kind of forward, but would you like to come back to my place? We can order in and not deal with a crowded restaurant."
Warrick shrugged. Why not? "I'm in."
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"So, Kelli, why were you at The Highball tonight? Kind of a dive, especially for a woman like you."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should."
"I was at The Highball because my friend, Jennifer, was man-hunting. Just came out of a nasty divorce. Well, nasty for Rob. Anyway, Jen needed support. For about five minutes."
"Kelli, I gotta be honest with you, I'm not looking for any sort of relationship right now."
Kelli laughed. "Good, 'cause all I'm offering is friendship. I haven't had guy friend since I was seventeen and I kind of miss 'em."
Warrick blushed. "Oh. I didn't mean to be so arrogant."
"It's perfectly okay." Kelli polished off her slice of pizza. "So, why were you at The Highball if you weren't looking for a relationship?"
"I was looking for a drink." Warrick finished off his wine and glanced at his watch. "Jesus, it's three in the morning. Don't you have work tomorrow?"
"I work graveyard." Kelli shrugged.
Warrick groaned. "Why couldn't I be looking for a relationship? You're perfect."
"Thank you." Kelli grinned. "But don't you have work tomorrow?"
"I work the nightshift." He parroted. "Tonight's my night off." He put on his coat. "Oh, let me give you my number so you can call me."
"Oh, me too." Kelli scribbled down her phone number.
Warrick glanced at the piece of paper. "Alright, Kelli…Grissom?" He looked up, shock written all over his face. "What's your dad's name?"
"Jack." Kelli looked more and more confused. "Why?"
"My boss…his name is Gil Grissom. Maybe you're related to him. After all, Grissom isn't exactly a common name."
"My mother said I had a brother by dad's first wife." Kelli said slowly. "Maybe he's that brother."
"Maybe. It was so nice to meet you, Kelli. I'll call you by Wednesday, and if I don't , feel free to hunt me down and kill me."
"Don't think I won't hold you to that."
"I'm counting on it." Warrick lingered by the door. "So, I'll call and we'll do breakfast?"
"I'm counting on it."
A/N: So, does Kelli stay or does Kelli go? If she stays, she's either going to get with Nick or Warrick. Your vote! REVIEW. REVIEW. Come on, I got two chapters out in one day for you. You can review.