I want to thank those of you who reviewed last chapter. I really appreciate it.

Chapter Thirteen

Meg lay in her cell, staring up at the cracks that spider-webbed across the ceiling. She traced patterns within the cracks, searching for shapes much like she'd done when she was a child and was looking at the clouds in the sky. But no matter how occupied she tried to keep her mind, Meg could not help but think of how she was going to get out of this. It wasn't only her own life that was affected by The Game, but the life of someone that she loved very much. And she wasn't about to let the CSIs allow that person to get hurt by their investigation.

> > > > >

He stared at his watch. Something was wrong now. Meg hadn't called him, she hadn't sought him out. And it had already been five hours. He was certain that the signal had come that night, but maybe he was wrong.

Yes, that was all it was. He had simply miscalculated. The target hadn't confessed his love yet. That was all.

He looked back down at his watch.

Yes. A simple miscalculation.

> > > > >

The apartment was silent, too silent. Greg turned on his stereo and TV, both at nearly maximum volume. He couldn't take the silence. It was like being in a horror film, waiting for the killer to strike.

Greg shook his head. Best not to think of horror films and killers at that moment. No, better to keep his head clear of all thought and simply listen to the stereo and TV battle it out.

He fell back onto the couch and stared up at the ceiling. The white paint was glowing blue in the darkness, lit only by the light of the television. He hadn't bothered to turn on any lights when he got home. What was the point? It wasn't like there would be anything new to see in his apartment. Everything was the same. Boring and the same.

Unbidden, thoughts of Meg filled his brain. He tried desperately to keep them at bay, but he couldn't. The urge to think about her was too strong. Greg hoped that she was fairing well. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if she was doing poorly. He didn't care anymore if she'd tried to kill him. He loved her, and he only wanted her to be safe.

He ran a hand through his hair. Things were so screwed up. None of this should have happened. He and Meg should have lived happily ever after. She shouldn't have wanted to kill him, she shouldn't have been a murder. But, unlike in stories, real life was no fairy tale. It didn't have happy endings. At least none that Greg knew about. No, real life had no room for happy endings. No room at all. God, did reality bite or what?

> > > > >

They sat around the conference table in agitated silence. No one spoke. They were all afraid to, afraid that they would spark someone's anger. So silence reigned over the room until Grissom finally entered.

"I thought I told you all to start without me." He said, looking around the table at his team. Nick and Warrick shook their heads, their gazes moving to the two females who sat in stony silence.

"Catherine, Sara, what's going on?" Grissom asked.

The two women looked at him, clearly avoiding each other.

"Nothing." Catherine said in a tone that clearly stated she didn't want to get into right then.

"No, it's not nothing." Sara snapped, her eyes blazing, but never once looking at Catherine. "I knew from the beginning that Meg was trouble. But none of them would listen to me." Her eyes moved over the men, but still stayed clear of Catherine.

"Oh would you drop it, Sara!" Catherine cried. "What do you want us to do, throw you a parade?" She glared at the younger woman. "You knew that something was wrong. We all know that. God, you haven't let us forget. But it's over with now. Can't we just move on and find out why she did what she did?"

Sara's jaw clenched and her mouth was set in a tight line. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the wall in brooding silence.

Grissom glanced between the two, waiting for a few moments before speaking again.

"Now that that's out of the way, can we concentrate on the case?" He waited for someone to object. No one did.

"Good. Now then, let's get started."

> > > > >

Catherine showed her badge to the officer at the front desk. He nodded and allowed her in to the holding area of the station. She moved through the doorway and walked down the line of cells until she reached the one Meg sat in.

The young woman lay on the hard bench, her gaze fixed on the stark white ceiling above her.

"Meg?"

She did not look at Catherine, nor did she acknowledge the other woman's presence.

"We need to talk, Meg." Catherine said in an attempt to get the girl to look at her.

"I have nothing to say." Meg's voice was frail, as if she had been crying.

"We need more information." Catherine said. She wasn't sure how to reach Meg, to make her understand that she could change the entire outcome of this case if she would just talk.

"I'm sorry," and she truly sounded it, "but I can't help you anymore."

"Why not?"

The silence stood between them like a stone wall.

"He'll kill her if I tell you." Meg's voice was stoic, resigned.

"Who? Who will he kill?" Catherine saw a glimmer of hope. Now if only she could grasp it.

Meg sat up and faced the older woman. Catherine was struck by the blood-shot, red rimmed eyes that stared at her. What kind of hell was this poor girl going through?

> > > > >

"She was murdered, you know. My mom. She never did a thing to hurt anybody. And she was murdered." Meg fought back the tears that choked her. But it was a fight she could not win. The tears streamed down her face in twin waterfalls of sorrow.

"Why would someone want to kill her?" Meg sobbed. "She wouldn't hurt a fly."

Catherine reached through the bars, a tissue in her hand. Meg stood and gratefully accepted the tissue. She wiped her eyes forcefully, as if she could wipe away all the grief that engulfed her.

"I've always wondered," she continued after composing herself, "who it was, and why they did it."

She ran a hand through her tangled hair, her fingers catching on a few snarls.

"Look at me," she sniffed, shaking her head, "Wondering why someone would kill an innocent woman when I've been doing the same thing. God, I'm such a hypocrite."

She looked at Catherine, who had a sympathetic look in her eyes. Her look only caused the tears to come harder and faster.

"You all much hate me now." Meg cried. "I don't blame you. I hate myself."

"You can make this better, Meg." Catherine said gently, "Just tell us who it is that made you do this."

Meg bit her lip. If only she could tell them.

As if she could sense Meg's trouble, Catherine reached out and touched the young woman's shoulder gently.

"I wish I could tell you." Meg said, her eyes on her shoes. "But I can't risk Amy's life."

"Who's Amy?" Catherine asked.

"My sister. She's the youngest." Meg ran the tissue over her eyes, sopping up more tears.

"If I promise to bring her here, where she'll be safe, will you tell me who the man is that hired you?"

Meg stared into Catherine's eyes. Here was a way out, just what Meg had been praying for. But did she have the strength to reach out and take what was offered her? Tense moments passed before Meg responded.

"Yes." She said, nodding her head, "I'll tell you."

> > > > >

Well folks, this story is almost over. Soon all the loose ends will be tied up and we'll know who the real villain is. Anyone have any guesses so far? I know that it's probably not too hard to figure out. But still, half the fun is in the second guessing. Lol. Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter and I hope you'll review. Until next time. Ciao.