Disclaimer/Author's Note – See Chapter One.

Chapter Five – Cross-Examination

'Thank you, Ms Sidle. No further questions, Your Honor.'

Sara felt emotionally drained. She had relieved the entire nightmare; everything from Hank's murder to her own kidnapping ordeal. She had tried to imagine she was giving evidence as she always did. Detached. Scientific. It didn't work on this occasion. She felt only raw and broken inside.

She wished that she could get up and leave the stand now, but answering the DA's questions had been the easy part of her testimony. It was now the defense's turn to question her. And by the look on Helen Spencer's face, her cross-examination would be anything but easy.

'Ms Sidle, you had a relationship with the victim, isn't that right?' Spencer began.

Having a feeling of where this was going, Sara took a deep breath and nodded. 'Yes. A few years ago.'

'While he was in a relationship with someone else?'

'I didn't know that at the time.'

'And you were angry when you found out, weren't you.'

Yeah, Sara definitely saw where this was going. 'I was hurt…'

'You were angry,' the lawyer insisted. 'You said as much in an email to the accused.'

'Of course, I was angry. But…'

'You felt betrayed. This man you thought you were in a relationship with was not only cheating on you, but he'd turned you into the other woman. Didn't that make you feel cheap? Used? Worthless?'

'Objection!' The DA sprang to his feet. 'The Defense is baiting the witness.'

'Sustained. Ms Spencer, please get to your point,' the Judge said firmly.

'Did you wish him harm, Ms Sidle?' Spencer had changed tack, lowering her voice, sounding almost sympathetic.

'No. I did not.'

'But my client, your former best friend, received emails from you, where you stated, and I quote, 'He deserves a world of pain, and more. I'd kill him if I thought I could get away with it.' But you claim now that you didn't wish him harm?'

Sara opened her mouth to protest, but the DA got there first. 'Objection Your Honor! There is no evidence of any such emails having ever existed. They are a figment of the defendant's imagination, trying to draw attention away from her guilt.'

'Sustained. The jury will disregard the defense's last statement.'

Sara could feel the anger bubbling up within her. It didn't matter that the judge had the bogus emails stricken from the record. The defense knew that would happen even before mentioning them. But it didn't matter. She was throwing everything she could at Sara, hoping some of the mud would stick; hoping that if she tainted Sara enough, Jill would look less guilty.

'You are a criminalist with the Las Vegas Crime Lab, are you not, Ms Sidle?'

'That's correct.'

'And as such, you are well versed in what is commonly known as 'the perfect crime'?'

Another stab of anger. 'It's been my experience that there is no such thing. The evidence never lies.'

'But that all depends on who's doing the interpreting, doesn't it?' Spencer smiled ruefully. 'As a CSI, you are an expert on evidence such as fingerprints and ballistics, isn't that correct?'

'As much as any other CSI in the country,' Sara was finding it difficult to keep the bite out of her voice.

Spencer smiled again, making her features draw back to resemble something startlingly like a viper. 'Don't be so modest, Ms Sidle. I've heard that you are one of the best criminalists in your lab.'

Sara said nothing, so the lawyer went on. 'Isn't it fair to say, Ms Sidle, that with your level of expertise in crime scene investigation, it would be all too easy for you to have falsified evidence in this case?'

The DA bounced to his feet, another objection on his lips, but Sara had already started to voice one of her own.

'No, it wouldn't be fair to say that. I had absolutely nothing to do with the evidence in this case. I wasn't assigned to it.'

'But you had access to the evidence, didn't you,' the lawyer wouldn't let up. 'It was kept at the lab where you work, wasn't it?'

'But I didn't have access to it,' Sara insisted firmly, becoming more exasperated by the minute. 'Only the CSIs assigned to the case had access to the evidence.'

The viper smirked. 'In that case, perhaps your boyfriend helped you out?'

Sara's eyes narrowed at the snake before her. It was one thing dragging her name through the muck, but Grissom…?

'Excuse me?' her voice was low and dangerously calm.

'You are romantically involved with your boss, Gil Grissom, aren't you? The man who headed up the investigation against my client.'

'I don't see what that had to…'

Spencer cut her off. 'Are you involved with him? Yes or no, Ms Sidle.'

Sara felt her heart stop. She could see a ghost of a smile playing on Jill's lips at the defense's table. She was being hung out to dry and the murdering bitch was enjoying every last moment of it.

'Yes. But we weren't together at the time of the investigation.'

'So this newfound romance is what? Payment in kind for services rendered?'

'Objection!' The DA's face was turning purple with rage.

'Sustained!' The Judge, clearly growing weary of the defenses tactics, peered over her glasses at the lawyer. 'Watch yourself, Ms Spencer.'

Spencer took a step closer to the bench but angled herself so that she was addressing both the judge and the jury. 'Your Honor, my client claims that evidence in this case was falsified, that members of the Las Vegas Crime Lab set her up in order to protect one of their own. This line of questioning goes straight to the veracity of the witness.'

The judge sighed. 'You are on exceedingly thin icy, Ms Spencer. Watch where you skate.'

Nodding, the lawyer faked a look of contrition. 'Just a couple more questions,' she said, turning back towards Sara.

'Ms Sidle, you were in care for a number of years, were you not?'

Sara furrowed her brow. Now where was this leading? 'I was,' she replied, the trepidation she was feeling announcing itself via a quaver in her voice.

'For what reason?'

Sara froze. Surely she didn't have to say it… 'My mother wasn't able to look after us. My brother and me.'

'And why was that?'

Sara didn't answer. Her heart felt like someone's fist was wrapped around it, squeezing tightly.

'Let me put it this way. Where was your father?'

When Sara still couldn't answer, Spencer moved closer to the witness stand. Her voice was quiet, conspiratorial almost, but loud enough so it carried to the jury's stand, as well as the rest of the assembled audience of on-lookers.

'Isn't it true, Ms Sidle, that you were placed in care when your mother stabbed your father to death, right in front of you?'

A collective gasp filled the room, as though all the air had suddenly been sucked out. In the vacuum, no one made a sound. Sara could feel countless pairs of eyes boring into her, waiting for her to answer. Echoes of her nightmares, of the reality of the horrific event she had witnessed as a child, of the vicious lawyer's words, all rang through her mind. She felt like they were all pushing in on her, crushing her chest, making it impossible to breathe.

Through the ringing in her ears, she could barely hear Spencer speaking to the judge. 'Your Honor?'

'Ms Sidle,' the Judge's voice broke through her haze. 'Please answer the question.'

'Yes.' The voice didn't sound like her own. It sounded far away and very small. Not strong and independent, like the persona she had fought long and hard to create for herself. To her own ears, Sara suddenly sounded like a victim.

'An event like that… it's bound to have a profound effect on a person,' Spencer was now saying. 'You certainly learned at an early age how to deal with men who hurt you…'

'Objection!' the DA finally jumped to Sara's defense.

'Get to your point, Ms Spencer,' the Judge insisted. And Spencer did just that.

'Your DNA was found at the crime scene. Your fingerprint. Your car was videotaped at the scene at the time of the crime. As was a person matching your description. Your gun was the murder weapon. Your philandering ex-boyfriend was the victim. Do you really expect this jury to believe that you had nothing to do with the murder?'

'Yes. Because I had nothing to do with it,' Sara replied. Sara's temper was getting the better of her now and she started doing what the DA had warned her against. Talking back… 'If I'm an expert criminalist, as you stated, would I really have used my own gun, my own car, been as sloppy to have left evidence?'

Playing to the jury now, and looking like she was thoroughly enjoying herself, Spencer shrugged. 'Maybe you were counting on that as your alibi. Preparing to say 'it couldn't have been me; I would have covered my tracks better'…'

'Objection! The witness is not the one on trial here!'

'Maybe she should be,' Spencer ploughed on, in her groove now, ignoring a steady stream of objections from the DA. 'I put it to you, Ms Sidle, that you were not a helpless victim in this, not even a willing accomplice, but the orchestrator of the murder. You were not kidnapped by my client, but were having a heated exchange with her at the murder scene. And only when you told her you were setting her up to take the fall for the crime you committed, only then did she threaten you with violence.'

Sara's temper snapped. 'That's bullshit! She tried to set me up, and then she tried to kill me!'

'Objection Your Honor! This is outrageous!'

'Sustained! Ms Spencer, one more outburst like that and I'll find you in contempt.'

Spencer smiled. She had said all she wanted to say. 'No more questions, Your Honor.' She threw a look of contempt at Sara. 'I'm done with this witness.'

The DA was on his feet before the defense attorney has even made it back to her chair.

'Redirect, Your Honor?' he asked, moving forward. Without waiting for reply, his eyes locked on Sara's. 'Ms Sidle. Did you conspire with Jill Davenport to murder Hank Pettigrew?'

Without hesitation, Sara replied firmly. 'No. I did not.'

'And did Jill Davenport attack you, kidnap and threaten you? Did she take you to the site of her previous murder, tie you to a chair and try to kill you?'

Her eyes now locked on Jill's, who looked almost triumphant as she sat watching the testimony. I will not let her win, Sara thought as she responded to the DA's question. 'Yes. She did.'

As Sara stormed through the doors of the courthouse, the first sight that greeted her was the sympathetic look in Warrick Brown's eyes. Her fury at what she had just been subjected to was temporarily replaced with gut wrenching humiliation, as she realized that her colleague and friend had just heard everything. Everything she had tried to keep hidden for so long. And she wished that she had been firmer in her insistence that she didn't need anyone to accompany her to the courthouse that day.

Grissom had wanted to come, of course, but the DA advised against it. He was due to testify the next day – the defense might try to make it look like witness tampering if he accompanied Sara before giving his own testimony.

Since Warrick had already testified, he volunteered for the job.

'I don't need to be baby-sat,' she had insisted to Grissom.

'I know. But Warrick's happy to go with you. He offered. And it's not baby-sitting. It's support. Please. I'd feel better knowing that someone was with you.'

So she'd relented. And now it was coming back to haunt her.

Warrick seemed uncharacteristically nervous as Sara approached him. Without pausing, she headed towards the exit, adjusting her speed to allow her friend to fall into step with her.

'Are you okay?' he asked hesitantly.

'Sure,' she replied, for all her efforts not keeping the sarcastic bite out of her voice. 'Just peachy.'

'God damn lawyers,' he spat. 'That was an ink job, that's what that was. Just ink in the water. Knows her client is as guilty as sin, so she's trying to churn up as much crap to hide that fact. Don't let it get to you, girl.'

Sara's jaw was clenched, the anger at the injustice of it all preventing her from replying.

'Sara. If you want to talk, or…'

They'd reached the car and from the look in Warrick's eyes, Sara could tell that he only wanted to help. But she couldn't hear it right now. Couldn't talk about it. She just felt sick to her stomach.

'Warrick…'

'Sara, I know you jive on being this strong woman who doesn't need anyone. But, we're here for you…'

For the second time that day, Sara felt like a victim and the anger that this churned up inside her threatened to unleash itself upon her unsuspecting friend. He's only trying to help, she told herself. He's not the one you're mad at. So she took a deep breath and swallowed the sharp words that had been ready on her tongue.

'Warrick, I know. And I appreciate it. I do. Really.' Another deep breath. 'But I can't talk about this right now. I just want to get to work. Okay?'

He looked like there was a whole lot more he wanted to say, but instead he simply nodded and climbed into the driver's seat of the SUV.

Catherine was on her cell phone as Warrick and Sara entered the break room.

'Whoa, Jim, slow down,' she said. 'Where's Grissom? --- Oh --- I know, I know, it can't wait. But I'm on my way out the door to a double homicide off the Strip and I need to take Warrick with me. --- Its Nick's night off...'

Sara caught Catherine's eye and mouthed 'What is it?' to the strawberry blonde CSI. 'Kidnapping' Catherine mouthed back while still listening to Brass.

'I'll take it,' Sara announced.

Relieved, Catherine practically sighed down the phone. 'Sara will meet you there,' she told the police Captain before disconnecting the call.

Turning to the brunette in front of her, Catherine smiled warmly. 'Hey. Welcome back. How'd court…'

'Don't ask,' Sara cut her off, gesturing towards the notebook in which Catherine had been writing down the details Jim has passed on. 'Where am I meeting Brass?'

'Henderson. There's the address,' Catherine said as she handed Sara the paper. 'Grissom had a case there last week. A 417. Seems the husband's come back and snatched the kids.'

Sara's face became a mask at the mention of the 417 – a domestic abuse case. Today of all days.

'Brass has already spoken to Grissom. He's at another scene, but he'll be in Henderson as soon as possible. Until then, it's all yours.'

'Thanks. Later.'

Ignoring Warrick's worried look, she practically ran out of the room.

Brass looked grave when he met Sara at the scene.

'We were out here a week ago. Domestic abuse. Wife finally saw sense after who knows how many years and was granted a TRO against her husband, Mike Harper, six days ago. About an hour ago, she was in the kitchen fixing dinner when she heard the front door being smashed in. Ran into the living room and found her husband grabbing the kids. He smashed the place up pretty good, hit her a couple of times for good measure and took off with the little girl and boy, Jane aged 9 and Mikey, 7.'

'And Mrs. Harper? How's she?'

'Banged up, but in one piece, considering. She called us within moments of her ex running off, so he doesn't have too big a head start. We've got a BOLO out on his car. Nothing yet.'

They'd reached the front door, which stood ajar. Through it, she could see a sobbing woman, battered and shaking. It was an all too familiar sight.

Taking a deep breath, Sara went inside.

The scene in the living room was chaos. Furniture was overturned; broken glass littered the carpeted floor… Rage, Sara thought inwardly. Uncontrolled rage.

As she shot off picture after picture of scene photographs, she could hear the mother sobbing in the kitchen. Paramedics had already been to check her over. Mild concussion, bruising, a few cuts. She had gotten off lightly - this time. She refused point blank to go to the hospital for a more thorough examination. She wanted to be here, hoping that it would all be put right and her children would be returned to her.

Half an hour later, she'd photographed the scene, lifted a few fingerprints from the door handle and the overturned furniture and bagged her evidence, which included a book of matches for a bar called The Cue Ball. Intent on asking Mrs. Harper about it, she made her way into the kitchen where Brass was still interviewing her.

'So go over the last time you saw your husband for me,' Brass was saying. 'Prior to today.'

'It was last week. Right before I called the police,' the woman sniffled. 'He kept on beating me until he heard the sirens. Then he ran off. I hadn't seen him until he showed up here and started smashing the place.'

'Any idea where he was staying this past week?'

She shook her head. 'I don't know.'

'How about the other times that he left after the beatings? Do you know where he stayed then?'

'He would normally only leave for one night,' she said, shaking her head again, her voice thick with pain. 'Then he'd come back here until he beat me again.'

Sara stood listening to this from just inside the kitchen door. The sight of the woman, sobbing and bruised at the kitchen table, reminded her forcefully of her own past, and she felt the anger building in her once more.

'How could you stay?'

The words were out of her mouth before she'd even stopped to consider them.

The woman looked up at her with bloodshot and tear-stained eyes, confused. 'I'm sorry?'

'How could you stay here, with a man who beat you? Terrorized you in front of your children? How could you do that to them?'

Brass's eyes were like saucers. 'Sara,' he warned.

But Sara couldn't let it go. She was becoming angrier and more upset with every second that ticked by. 'Your children depend on you to protect them. How could you subject them to living with that monster day after day?'

'Sara! That's enough!'

She turned to see Grissom in the doorway, shocked and angry.

Sara made her way into her apartment and slumped down on the couch, utterly disgusted with herself. She couldn't believe she'd lost her temper with a victim. She'd done it before with suspects, but even when she knew it was a bad move on her part, she had still felt justified. But now she just felt… sick.

Grissom's appearance at the house had snapped her back to her senses. Turning to the stricken mother, she had stammered an apology before leaving the house, Grissom hot on her heels.

He'd sent her home after voicing his concern over her tendency to become too emotionally involved in her cases. He asked if something had happened in court that day to set her off. She promised to tell him after the shift end.

So now she sat in her living room, counting down the minutes until he'd be at her door, fighting nausea and trying to find the words she needed him to hear.

When he appeared at her door in the cold light of dawn, the anger had all but evaporated from his features. It had been replaced by an overwhelming concern for her that broken her heart. She had never wanted him to worry about her. She had never wanted anyone to worry about her.

He crossed the threshold into her apartment, but didn't touch her. He sensed the distance that was radiating off her like a white-hot star. Physical intimacy would only make this discussion harder. There would be time for him to hold and comfort her later. She moved round behind an easy chair, putting the piece of furniture in between them as if to emphasis the point.

'Mrs. Harper has accepted your apology and she's not going to lodge a complaint,' he finally said after a deafening silence. 'But, you've got to realize, if this had happened in front of anyone other than me and Brass… if Ecklie had caught wind of it, he would have made me suspend you.'

'I know,' she whispered.

'Sara, I know I said you should wait until you were ready to talk about this,' he told her. 'But it's affecting your work. It's affecting you. I think… I think you need to talk about this.'

Even from across the room, he could see she was shaking. She looked away from him and nodded.

'Why are you so angry?'

Catherine and Warrick were just coming off of shift and wearily gathering their belongings in the locker room when Greg stormed in.

'Have you guys seen this morning's paper yet?' he asked them angrily.

They were both nonplussed. 'No,' Catherine replied. 'Why?'

As if it was a piece of filth, Greg slapped the newspaper down on the bench between the two CSIs so they could see the headline and the damning article that ran with it.

"Key Witness in Murder Trial Discredited on the Stand:

Crime Scene Investigator Sara Sidle's credibility was questioned in court today as information came to light about her troubled past.

Not only was Sidle the former lover of the murder victim, EMT Hank Pettigrew, but it also immerged during cross-examination that, as a child, she witnessed the murder of her father – by her own mother."

TBC.