Chapter 12
Grissom was waiting outside the sheriff's private office by eight o'clock the next morning. The dark circles under his eyes were the only proof of his sleepless night. During what was possibly the longest eight hours of his life, he had passed from angry to depressed to resigned. He knew things looked bleak. Conrad had been trying to find something to use against him for years and he had handed it over on a silver platter. The phrase 'how could I have been so stupid' kept running through his head. He had entered the building through the back door in order to avoid running into any of his team that might still be inside. He sat ramrod straight, hands clasped between his knees, waiting on the sheriff to see him. He had decided the best course of action was to tell the truth and take his licks. Surely his solve rate, his contributions to the lab and the solve rate of his team counted for something.
"Dr. Grissom, the sheriff will see you now," the secretary said. She had been casting surreptitious looks his direction, trying to figure out, from his appearance, if the rumors were true.
Grissom rose slowly from the chair. "Thank you," he said, his face expressionless, and walked through to the inner office.
The sheriff looked up when Grissom cleared his throat. "Gil, come in and have a seat. What can I do for you this morning?"
Grissom took a seat and paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. "I'm sure you are aware of Conrad's accusations against me. I am here to file an appeal on the suspension."
"Well, I've read Conrad's report and, I must say Gil, I was shocked. I mean everyone knew Ms. Sidle had a thing for you. I guess I just expected you to show a little restraint." Noticing the pained expression that crossed Grissom's face, the sheriff leaned back in his chair and linked his hand over his stomach. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"
"Do you mind if I hear what Conrad is alleging? It will be hard to dispute accusations I have never heard." Grissom's face was expressionless once again. His features carefully set to reveal nothing of his inner turmoil.
The sheriff shuffled through a stack of files and handed a very thin one to Grissom. "Read it for yourself."
Grissom took the file and studied the outside, unable to believe something so small and innocuous could be so powerful. Opening it, he quickly read the report. Finished, he calmly leaned forward and laid it back on the desk. Still giving away nothing he began to speak.
"I can't deny some of the things in that report. However, I feel that my record should be able to stand on its own." Grissom closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Returning his gaze to the sheriff he said, "My team has the highest solve rate of any in this lab. Out of that team, Sara Sidle closes more cases and has a higher conviction rate than anyone else."
"I am not concerned with the solve rate of you or the members of your team. I am concerned with the relationship between you and a subordinate. I assume that is the part you can't deny," the sheriff had leaned forward in his chair propping his elbows on the desk. "There are rules Gil and they are in place for a reason."
"I am aware of the rules. I am also aware that the rules say nothing specific about supervisor/subordinate relationships. There has to be more to Conrad's complaint than what is in that file," Grissom said with conviction. "What did he say to get you to agree to suspend me?"
"Ah, always the investigator. You never take anything at face value do you?" the sheriff asked with a smile playing around his lips. "How long has this 'relationship' been going on?"
Grissom hesitated. He didn't want to lie but the truth was a scary thing. Finally he said, "About six months."
"Wow. That long, huh? I'm honestly surprised that you managed to keep it quiet for that long." The sheriff looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Let me tell you what isn't in that report. Conrad is alleging you ignored a direct order from him to fire Ms. Sidle. I think you can read between the lines for the rest."
Understanding the implication and what it could mean for Sara, Grissom clenched his jaw and gripped the arms of his chair tightly. Keeping his expression carefully blank he waited on the sheriff to finish. Losing his temper at this point would be counter-productive.
Seeing that Grissom wasn't going to rise to the bait the sheriff said, "Gil, give me one good reason to revoke the suspension. I can't just undermine Conrad's authority because of the solve rate of your team."
"What do you want me to say? I can tell you I'm sorry. I can tell you I was stupid. I can say anything. It doesn't change what's been done. I have put my heart and soul into this lab and the only thanks I get is this." Grissom's voice was gruff and his eyes suspiciously moist. He turned his head, staring at a framed photo on the wall, until he was in control once again.
"Tell you what Gil, take a few days off. Let me do some digging. I'll let you know what I decide. Okay?" The sheriff stood and waited for Grissom to do the same. Walking around his desk he opened the door and waited until Grissom stood in front of him. "Make sure you make the right decision regarding this situation."
And then Grissom was out the door and through the outer office. Head down, he made is way through the halls and into the morning with the sheriff's last words repeating in his head. The sun was a bright white ball in the sky. His eyes protested the light and he fumbled with his sunglasses. Slipping them on he walked to the car and drove home. Like Sara the previous night his mind replayed every moment they had spent together. He could almost feel her skin, taste her, and hear her laugh and her moans. He could smell the scent that was Sara. He missed her with an ache he had never known before. He also missed his job. He had spent more than thirty years employed in this field. He couldn't imagine doing anything else. Even though there were no rules that prohibited their relationship he knew Conrad was only using this as an excuse.
Sara sat quietly on the deck behind her apartment. She had driven straight home from Grissom's and had been sitting there ever since. Her knees were drawn up and her chin rested on them. She had heard her phone ring several times and hadn't bothered to answer. She had finally stopped crying even though her cheeks were raw from the millions of hot, salty tears that had passed over them. She didn't seem to notice her surroundings. How could she face the people at work? How would she ever hold her head up while people whispered about her spreading her legs for a job? How could Ecklie have taken something so good and twisted it into a hideous reminder of itself? With a deep sigh, Sara stood and entered the apartment. She stretched out on the couch, unable to sleep in her own bed because of the man who had been there. Within minutes her exhaustion overtook her and she fell into a troubled sleep.