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Past Transgressions, Present Failings

Chapter 1

December 21, 2005; 6:07pm

Gil Grissom sat alone in his darkened office, wearing a passive expression. Vivaldi was quietly playing in the background, but Grissom did not hear it.

To an outsider, it would appear that he was absently staring at his jars of preserved specimens, blocking out the hurried activity of his co-workers in favor of a few moments' respite. To a friend and colleague, however, his agitation would be quite clear. Someone far more sage than he had once proffered that the eyes are the windows to one's soul. Tonight, as Grissom sat tormented in his sanctuary, this could not be more true. Although he fought to maintain the appearance of calm rationalism for which he was trademarked, his eyes betrayed him. Inside his heart and mind, a sea of rancor and dread was building. Tranquility would elude him until this latest mystery was solved.

December 21, 2005; 4:16pm

"Are you sure?" Detective Jim Brass asked with a large degree of apprehension in his voice. "When and where was she last spotted?"

"Earlier today at the local mall. Her husband said she needed to finish up their holiday shopping. After she dropped her son off at daycare, she was headed to Hecht's and Ann Taylor. Credit card history indicates that she made purchases at both locations, the last one occurring at 11:53am. Clerks at both stores remember her; apparently, she was the only customer filled with holiday cheer today. Her son's babysitter called her husband when she failed to pick up their boy." The police chief of the Montgomery County Police Department sighed with frustration, clearly concerned about his missing investigator.

"What else do you know?" Brass inquired, alarmed by this unexpected news. Apparently, it was open season on criminalists, past and present. After Nick's abduction last spring, this was the last thing Jim and his colleagues needed to hear.

"Not much else. She's on security tapes leaving the mall, but after that we've got nothing. ADT reports that no one deactivated the home's alarm until her husband arrived a few hours ago, and he reported that none of her belongings are missing, except for her coat, purse, and keys. Her car hasn't turned up yet, either."

"Is the husband a suspect?"

The police chief exhaled quickly, thankful to get this issue out of the way. "No, he's above reproach. He has an alibi for the entire day and there aren't any irregularities in their finances or their phone records. He's cooperated fully, too. By all accounts from friends, colleagues, and family, they had the perfect marriage."

Yeah, right. There's no such thing. Jim had been a detective for far too long to buy into that train of thought. He would have to see the evidence for himself before ruling on this premise. "What can we do to help you, Chief? CSI Nichols hasn't worked for us in eight years. We'll be glad to do whatever we can, mind you, but I'm not sure how much insight we can offer."

"At this point, I need to know if she pissed off anyone out there enough that they would hold a grudge for this long and have the tenacity to follow her all the way to Maryland. Old lovers, convicts she helped put away, you know the like. Are any of her old co-workers still there that we can talk to?"

"Okay, yeah, there are still a few around. We can set up phone interviews and start going through her old files to see what we can find. I was her supervisor of record back then and nothing stands out, but it was a long time ago. Gil Grissom, our night shift leader, worked with her closely back then. I'll fill him in on the situation and have him call you ASAP." With that, he disconnected the call and sat back with a grunt. Damn. Why does this crap always happen to the good kids? How the hell am I going to tell Gil?

With that sentiment, the supervisor in question poked his head into his friend's office, a smirk gracing his handsome features. "Why do I feel like my ears should be burning?"

With increasing trepidation, Brass waived Grissom into his office and to the closest chair. No time like the present…

TBC