Author's note: Sorry 'bout the length of the last chapter, but my bro needed the comp, and I had to give it up! Anyway, hope this one is just as good as the last, and hopefully longer ;)!
……….
"So, where exactly are we heading?" Grissom asked from the passenger seat.
Detective Warner stared down the road, quickly switched lanes, then risked a quick glance at Grissom, "I'm taking you to Hudson. We've only got about five more minutes before we hit the town center."
Catherine leaned over in her seat, and in between the two men, "Where exactly did you find her?"
"It's a small house, just on the other side of town. A neighbor called it in, said they saw a black car peeling out of there, thought it looked suspicious. She's an old lady, everything looks suspicious to her. She calls the local police station at least twice a week."
"So, why did they respond?" asked Catherine with a grin.
"Because in a small town like Hudson, not showing up to an old lady's rescue is like not rescuing a kids cat from a tree. It's just not heroic," shrugged the detective.
The next few minutes went by in silence. The small town of Hudson unfolded in front of them. Its buildings were old, circa the 1950's, old men still sitting out on shady porches in front of worn store fronts. The school and police department seemed to be the only updated buildings in the entire town.
Before even getting a look at Hudson, it was slowly fading behind them, and instead the Colorado countryside opened up in front of them, a few worn houses dotting the landscape every so often. It was about five houses down that Detective Warner slowed to a stop.
"This is it," he said, stepping out of the car, "right where we found her."
Grissom and Catherine stepped out as well, and stood next to Warner's car, staring at the old two story. Weeds cluttered the front lawn, a rocky trail led to the front door. The paint was nearly completely stripped from the siding, the windows were cracked and sagging with time. Grissom shuddered inwardly.
"This is where you found her?"
Detective Warner nodded, "Yep. Wait until you see the inside."
They took a step forward, but immediately stopped when a shrill voice echoed across the road.
"Well, it's about time you fellers came back to explain what was going on!"
The three turned around, and stared in half amusement, half caution at the old women hobbling across the road. She moved her feet carefully, trying to keep her slippers on, but really only successfully managing to kick up dirt from the road. Her gray hair was up in curlers, but would have easily fallen across her brightly colored night gown, had it been let down. After a few long seconds, she stood in front of the two criminalists and the detective, shaking a wrinkled pointer at them.
"Wake me up in the wee hours of the morning without a good excuse, OR without telling me if you found that troublemaker who pulled outta here making such a racket! And now, you interrupt me and my stories!" she shifted her weight, and placed her hands on her hips, "Well, go on then!"
Catherine stared at the women, jaw dropped, then exchanged a look with Grissom. He shrugged tiredly, then looked to Warner.
"Oh, uh, Mrs. Barker, this is Gil Grissom, and that's Catherine Willows. They've come up from Las Vegas to help solve a crime that was committed here."
The group faced the old women again. This time, it was her turn to be shocked. She let her eyes dance between Warner, Grissom and Catherine, and the house that stood behind them.
"What did you find?" she finally decided to ask.
"Ma'am, I don't think we're exactly at liberty to talk about that right now, but, I do have one question for you, if you don't mind," said Grissom gently.
Mrs. Barker looked at Grissom and nodded vigorously, "Well, go right ahead, dear. Anything to help the police."
"Have you noticed any suspicious activity at this house, besides the car pulling out the other night?"
Mrs. Barker thought for a minute, then answered, "Not to my recollection. This house was abandoned, oh, about two years back. A nice young man came by around that time, looking to purchase it, but I told him not to bother. It's a hunk o' junk, and it was better to pay no mind to it, just like everyone else."
Grissom nodded, noting the time frame carefully in his head. He stared away briefly to look at the house, then to Warner, who read Grissom's mind.
"Well, Mrs. Barker, thank you for your time and cooperation, but if you could just step back into your home, we have a very important investigation to get underway."
Mrs. Barker nodded, then added, "If you need anything, you know where to find me."
And with that, she turned around and headed back to her house. When she was a safe distance way, the group let out a collective sigh of relief.
"Interesting character," said Catherine as they headed up the porch steps.
"As much so as they come. But she's harmless," noted Warner.
Carefully, the detective opened the door and stepped aside to let the CSI's in. Closing it behind them, they took a look around the room. Grissom pulled out his flashlight, shining on the walls around them.
"It's a mess," whispered Catherine.
"Yeah. But you've only got flashlights… and this is only the living room. There are so many things about this place, even some of my best men went running out for air."
Grissom remained silent, but moved quickly to a corner. Catherine's eyes followed him briefly, before she spoke, "Something seems off about this scene."
"Or extremely on," mumbled Grissom. His fingers reached out towards a doll that sat in the corner, but he pulled back as memories flooded his brain…
……….
"Two weeks, and this was her only companion," said Sara over the lump of tears forming in her throat.
Carefully, she picked up the doll, letting her gloved fingers run over the tear and blood stained surface. She looked away as a few of her own tears spilled over, then she set the doll down.
"A sign human emotion on the killers behalf?" wondered Grissom aloud from his position over the small body. He quickly snapped another picture, then looked at Sara.
Sara stared back at him, but looked away. She looked to the far wall, and walked in that direction.
"Dog dishes. Is there any other evidence of a dog here?"
"None that I've found. No hairs, no 'business,' … just this little girl."
Sara picked up the bowl, and ran a finger through the contents, "This wasn't for a dog… this was for the girl," she said quietly.
Grissom winced. He looked down at the small form underneath his camera lens. A small girl, Heather Rollins was only about seven. Her face was battered badly, deep cuts littered her arms and torso. She had gone missing two weeks ago, on a trip with her mother. Now, here she was, in this dirty house, dead, the man who supposedly did it killed her by drugging her in a desperate attempt to get rid of the girl . Grissom sighed, but a small white piece of paper caught his eye. He pulled it from the girl's grasp.
"Sara, take a look at this," he said, holding it up.
Sara came over and bent down, leaning over Grissom's shoulder. He unfolded it, and after reading it, both CSI's smiled down at the brave young victim.
On a small piece of paper the girl had managed to write something down before her death; the name of her killer. And it just so happened to be the name of their suspect.
……….
"Grissom? What is that supposed to mean?" asked Catherine.
Grissom stood up, and looked at Catherine and Warner. He sighed, knowing that he'd have to tell them.
"Four months before Sara disappeared, we worked a case together. Young girl disappeared while on vacation with her mother."
"Yeah, the Rollins case. It was a rough one."
"At the crime scene we found three things: a doll," Grissom held up the doll he had found in the corner, "a note in the girl's hand with her killer's name, and dog dishes."
Warner reached down and picked something up, "Similar to this?"
Grissom nodded, "Actually, exactly like that."
"But you nailed that guy. Are you saying we have a copy cat?"
"No. Two of those details were never released to the press; the dog dish and the doll. Do you remember what Sara's kidnapper said to me the day he took her?"
Catherine stood silent for a moment, then nodded, "Hell hath no fury like a student scorned."
"So, you're saying someone was following you… spying on you, maybe?" broke in Warner.
"Someone who did that would know the details of the case. The Rollins girl was kept for two weeks, Sara was kept for two years. The dog dish, the doll… and one more thing. Something big that happened as a result of the case. Something that made Sara very significant."
Catherine and Warner waited patiently.
"After we wrapped up the case, Sara came over to my apartment. We started talking and… one thing sort of led to another. As a result of this case, Sara and I started a relationship, and had been together until…," his voice faded, and Catherine finished for him.
"Until she disappeared."
"So, you're saying that some twisted ex-student of yours is playing some sick game with us, using a case that heavily affected your life, and that of your girlfriend?"
"I'm saying that, whoever this guy is, he knows my every move, and it'd be wise to catch him before he wins this game."
TBC