Author's note: Alright, we're down to the final three chapters! They all should be posted by the end of next week, seeing as how I'll have plenty of inspiration… from VEGAS! Until then, enjoy chapter 16!
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It was like walking into a nightmare. The reds and blues from the lone cop car's lights flashed in slow motion as Catherine, Warrick and Nick walked up to the scene. It wasn't like they hadn't processed scenes in which they were somewhat personally involved before, but this; this was different.
Grissom's Denali was flipped onto it's side, a deep dent decorating its rear bumper. Catherine stepped closer to inspect it, collecting a sample of the blue paint chips that were sprinkled within the dent. She shook her head as she mumbled to herself. "Ran off the road."
"Hey, Cath!" Warrick shouted from the road. He leaned down and snapped a picture as she approached him.
"What you find?"
"Skid marks, almost overlapping these skid marks. I'm not a betting man anymore, but I'd bet these belong to Grissom's," he pointed at a dark pair of marks that bruised the road, "and these belong to whoever ran them off the road."
"No doubt. That dent in the rear of the vehicle? Blue paint chips within. Definitely not the Denali's color."
"I've got a shoe print!" Nick yelled. He snapped a few pictures before he leaned down to his kit, getting out everything he need to make a cast of the shoe print, "Guys not being as careful as he was before. He's getting sloppy."
Catherine sighed as made her way back over to the flipped Denali. She searched the area, going over every inch with a watchful eye, but she found nothing else. She shook her head as she turned to watch Nick and Warrick. They looked up at her, meeting her tired and worried eyes.
"I know they're going to be ok, but sometimes I can't help but think that this guy, even despite his screw ups, is just good enough to get away."
"Cath…"
She shook her head, "But then I remember that we're the number two lab in the country, and we didn't get there standing around letting the evidence come to us. We dig in, we find it for the victims. Yeah, it's a little different this time; the victims are two of us. But, you guys… I guess I'm just trying to say, thanks. Not just for your great work, but I'm sure Griss and Sara would love knowing they've got people who care enough to look for them."
Warrick walked over and set a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Putting her hand on top of his, she smiled and nodded tightly. They couldn't give up hope; not now. They were too close to getting this guy. But the more time they wasted, the less time Grissom and Sara had.
And running out of time was not an option.
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"Matthew Charbonneau paid $45 to attend Dr. Grissom's three day seminar, "Anatomy of a Crime Scene." Gee, thought he'd be more original with that one," Brass grinned as he came into the conference room. The rest of night shift nodded as they studied the work in front of them.
"Don't everyone greet me at once," Brass mumbled, taking a seat next to Nick.
"You're the only one who got anything," said Greg, staring into his cup of coffee.
"Well, we did find a few things at the site of the accident. Blue paint chips on the back of Grissom's vehicle. A shallow shoe print near the front bumper of the car. Some tread marks on the pavement that aren't a match to Grissom's tires. No prints, though. Not even a partial," briefed Warrick.
"This guys a ghost. Greg check his credit card again, but didn't find any sign of a hotel or motel. Went to some of the more low key places, but didn't find anyone who said they checked in someone matching Matthew's description. We've hit a dead end," Catherine sighed.
"Well, maybe not," said Nick, "What about this half brother of his? Greg called the rest of the family to see if Matthew's made contact with them. It's entirely possible that the brother has talked to him, especially if this is part of some elaborate revenge plot against Griss and Sara. He could of let his brother in on it."
Catherine nodded and stood slowly, "Alright. Brass, do you think we can get in to see this half brother?"
Brass nodded tightly as he pulled out his cell phone and excused himself to make a phone call. Catherine pointed to Warrick and nodded toward the door, "You can come with us. The rest of you, keep checking hotels and motels. The seedier, the more likely you are to find him. We'll check in when we know something."
And with that, she and Warrick walked out the door, hoping to find something with this convicted murderer and kidnapper.
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"I haven't talked to him for awhile," shrugged Samuel, clinking his cuffed wrists loudly on the metal table, "Last time I saw him was about a year ago, wanted to know about the house they think I killed that girl in."
Samuel was a short man, covered in tattoos and scars. He sat slumped in his chair, running a shaking hand through his greasy hair. Beneath the table a nervous foot tapped against the floor, rattling the chains around his ankles. When he saw Brass raise an eyebrow, he sat forward, giving him a slight shrug.
"They think?" Brass needed clarification. It wasn't just that anyone thought it; this man had been convicted of it, the evidence had proved it.
"Yeah, they think. I didn't do anything. Especially not to that little girl. I was framed."
"That isn't why we're here, Mr. Maguire. Why did Matthew come to see you?" pushed Catherine.
"Like I said, he was asking about the house. I owned it, and the property it was on. Still did at that point, but he wanted to buy it from me. Nobody believes I'm innocent, never will, so I didn't see a point in keeping it around anymore. I gave it to him, free of charge. He was ecstatic. Said he had a lot of big plans for it and left. I haven't seen him since."
Catherine and Brass stood to leave, but Warrick stayed seated, leaning forward in his seat to stare into the slouching man's eyes. Getting his attention, he spoke softly, "Why are you so certain you've been framed?"
The man sat straight in his chair, his eyes suddenly brighter, his pale face now full of color, "I hadn't used that house in awhile. Matthew had actually been using it. I had hired him to fix and paint it up, told him he could stay there too, once he got it livable again. I'd check in on him every once in awhile, but hadn't been there in three weeks. Next thing I know, the police are knocking at my door, throwing cuffs on me and reading me my rights."
"Matthew had been staying there?" asked Catherine.
"Well, I don't know if he was staying there at that specific time. It still wasn't quite up to code. But he never mentioned a hotel where he could be reached, and he only worked on it at night, 'cause he had other painting jobs during the day."
"Did he ever get around to finishing the house?" asked Brass.
"Not before I was arrested. When he asked for it, I figured that's what his big plans for it were. He needed a place to stay at the time. He was thinking of moving to the Vegas area, said Denver was getting to old and he needed to make some changes. Said he had a girl named Sara who was from Las Vegas and really wanted to come back. Who was I to argue? Once he got that place done, it woulda been a beautiful home. If you can get past that poor girl being found there," Samuel sniffed and lowered his eyes, missing the looks that Catherine Brass and Warrick exchanged.
"Thank you for your time, sir," said Warrick, joining Catherine and Brass at the door. Before they could leave, Samuel called them back.
"Did Matthew do something wrong? I mean, he's a good guy and all, but he hasn't really been the same since school, ya know?"
"He may have, Sam, but we're trying really hard to make sure he doesn't do anything else," said Brass, opening the door and ushering the CSIs out before anything more could be said.
Once outside, Catherine pulled the men aside, "A girl named Sara? From Vegas? What was the address of that house?"
"I don't know it off the top of my head, but we can pull it," said Brass, dialing a number on his phone and stepping away.
"So, what? We're thinking Samuel was framed?" Warrick asked quietly as Catherine paced, "It's not like he knew Grissom and Sara would work that case."
"No, but it could just be a lucky coincidence. Maybe he was just going for anyone on Grissom's team. Maybe he requested them and that was never documented. I don't know, but either way, that house is worth looking into," Catherine stopped and leaned against the wall, "I can't believe we didn't think to check sooner."
"Anyone could have made…"
"No, Warrick," Catherine lowered her gaze, "The house where they found Sara was almost an exact match to the house described in the case report for Samuel's case. We thought it was just a reference to Grissom and Sara getting together… but how would that make sense? It was a reference to the original crime. How could anyone have known those details unless they had been there?"
Warrick nodded, but didn't respond. His eyes were settled on Brass, who was making his way back towards them.
"I have the address," he said breathlessly," We'll meet a team there. Let's roll."
With that, they started towards the door, hoping this lead was taking them closer to the end.
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"Let's play a game," Sara squeezed her eyes shut as Matthew's fingers ran down her spine, stopping just short of the hem of her shirt. She opened her eyes just enough to look to Grissom, hoping to see a plan formulating in his bright blue eyes. But when she looked there, she didn't find any hope; she found terror.
Gritting her teeth against Matthew's touch, she turned to meet his steely gaze and cringed when she saw the sickly sweet smile that touched his face, "Lets. But first, let him go. Grissom doesn't need to be here for this."
At that, Matthew laughed, "What, do you not remember a thing I told you in the last two years? Grissom does need to be here, because this is all about revenge."
He gently patted Sara's back, before moving his hands to his own shirt. Slowly he removed it, not taking his eyes off of Grissom, "You took away an opportunity to learn from me. And you never noticed me. You said you'd answer any questions, and I had so many. I was going to be your star pupil and denied me that," Matthew leaned over Sara, running a rough hand underneath her shirt, "You took so much from me, and all I could do is sit back and watch…"
"Don't touch her!" Grissom cut him off, straining against his restraints.
"Now I'm going to take her," Matthew continued, ignoring the struggle behind him, "Take everything you want while you watch."
Making his move, he flipped Sara onto her back, pinning her to the cold ground as he ground into her hip. Sara screamed, bucking against him in an attempt to throw him off. But her muscles were weak, and his held her down as he smiled from above. Tears running down her face, Sara yelled, "Why? God, why change it all now?"
"Grissom will never be able to live with himself if this happens," turning to the man struggling behind him, he smiled, "Will you, doctor? Which is fine by me, because we'll all be dead when this is over with. So he won't suffer for long," leaning down, he whispered into Sara's ear, "And neither will you. It'll all be over soon. But let's have some fun before we go."
Grissom cried out as Matthew lunged forward, hot tears rolling down his cheeks as the straps around his body cut into his skin. In his head, he screamed for help, not knowing just how close it was.