Chapter Five

11:30am

Sara walked into the hospital and showed her ID.

"Gilbert Grissom?"

"Your name?"

"Sara Sidle,"

"Okay, Ms. Sidle. Here is your Visitor's Pass. Please check in with the nurse on the floor. I only know that he's up on six." The receptionist explained.

"Thanks," Sara said, clipping her hospital ID onto her blouse.

She headed for the elevators but saw something in the gift store; a Beanie Baby bright red fuzzy spider. She smiled, went in and bought it. Taking the elevator to the sixth floor, she approached the nurse's station.

"Gilbert Grissom?" Sara asked, handing the nurse her ID.

"Yes, Ms. Sidle, room 626. He needs to remain calm. His ulcer is very painful and it can get aggravated by stress." The nurse instructed, handing her back her pass.

"I'll be careful," Sara said, clipping it back to her blouse.

"As a matter of fact, it's time for his medicine. Let's go see him together."

Sara smiled and followed the nurse. Just as they approached his room, they heard a noise from within. They both rushed in to see Grissom, slumped on the floor, the IVs lying unattached on the floor leaking. Sara reached to the nurse to hold her back before walking up to Grissom herself. She crouched in front of him, noting that he was shaking.

"Griss?"

Grissom opened his eyes and looked at her for several minutes before recognizing her. He reached out his arms to her and started to cry as she pulled him into a tight hug.

"I'll get Dr. Evans," the nurse said before leaving the room.

"I'm so sorry," Grissom whispered between his tears.

"I forgive you, Gil. Just relax, just breathe, everything's all right, now." Sara said, soothingly.

A few minutes later, Dr. Evans walked in and stopped, seeing Grissom on the floor.

"Well, this might be taking the peace and quiet idea a little far," he quipped, walking to his patient. "I'm Paul Evans, your doctor. You, I presume are Dr. Grissom and Sara Sidle?"

"Yes," Sara answered for them both.

Grissom had stopped crying, but he was holding onto Sara for dear life.

"Dr. Grissom?" Dr. Evans started.

"He doesn't like hospitals or doctors as a rule. Call him Grissom, it's familiar to him." Sara advised.

"Grissom, how are you? I need to know how you're feeling." Dr. Evans said, crouching near him.

Grissom opened his eyes and looked at him. The look was inescapable.

"Let's get you into bed so we can take care of the pain. Nurse, would you bring a second set of IVs? Did you give him his ulcer meds?" Dr Evans said, kneeling to help Sara muscle Grissom back into bed.

"No, I was about to when we found him on the floor." The nurse explained.

Just as Grissom got settled back into bed, a strong shiver of pain rattled him. He moved, trying to evade it.

"Okay, Grissom, swallow this; it should help." Dr. Evans said, forcing a pill between his lips.

Grissom swallowed it dry, the sweat rolling down his face.

"Sara, can you give us the room for a moment? We need to clean him up and get him settled. Then you can come back in." Dr. Evans asked.

"Griss, I'll be in the hallway. I'm right here. I'm not leaving." Sara said loudly.

Grissom smiled briefly, breathing against the pain. Sara kissed his forehead and left the two men alone.

"Grissom, stay with me. What happened? I've met the Three Musketeers; Roger, Jim and Andy. You need to tell me what's going on." Dr. Evans said.

"Dr. Evans," Grissom started.

"Call me, Paul; one syllable." Dr. Evans recommended.

"Paul, I do not sleep well. Generally I sleep three hours at a time and wake up; occasionally with violent nightmares. When I have a migraine, I sleepwalk. Although I didn't have a migraine, I just needed to get out of bed. I suspect that is how I ended up on the floor." Grissom admitted.

"Is the ulcer medication helping?"

"Yes, the pain does seem to be easing."

"When did you first feel the pain?"

"Maybe six weeks ago I felt some discomfort. But it wasn't until yesterday that I felt pain."

"Okay, I'm going to talk to you and I need you to just listen and relax. If you fall asleep, that's okay, too. Don't worry, just relax." Paul directed.

Grissom sighed, still restless against the pain. Paul began to tell stories of his childhood in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan while he cleaned the IV sites and started new ones. By the time he was finished, Grissom was asleep. He reached around and started to secure Grissom's arms, chest and legs. Finally, he walked out into the hallway to find Sara.

"How is he?"

"Complicated, I gather he doesn't sleep well." Paul asked, leaning against the wall.

"When he's tired, working on a rough case, or stressed, he barely sleeps." Sara admitted, looking at him.

"I've restrained him. He'll be fine, but I'll understand if you want to stay." Paul said.

"Thanks, it's funny but he relaxes when he feels a calming hand. I have to be at work at 10pm, but I'll stay until then, if I may." Sara said.

"I'll make sure you can. When you see the Musketeers, have Jim call me, would you?" Paul asked.

"Sure," Sara said, giggling in spite of herself, before walking into Grissom's room.

1:00pm

He looked pale surrounded by the white sheets. Sara pulled up a chair to be by his side, setting the red spider on the table in his eyesight. He breathed softly, his hands at his side, his face relaxed. She reached for his hand and held it. After a half an hour, she was asleep, her head back on the chair, her hand almost touching Grissom's, her legs up on the bed next to him.

2:00pm

"Brass," he answered tersely.

"Whoa, relax, sailor," Catherine chided.

"Catherine, sorry, what's up?"

"I have some information on the phone logs you asked about earlier. I'd rather not do this on the phone. Can you meet me at the diner?"

"Uhm, sure. I'm on my way, and I'm bringing a friend."

"Good, so am I," Catherine said, smiling.

"See you soon,"

"Bye." Catherine said, hanging up the phone.

She looked over to Warrick and Nick, smiling.

"Let's get everything together about Grissom Senior's case. You have the phone records?"

"You bet, "Nick said.

"You'll call Sara and Greg?"

"Yeah, I'm on it. Six hours is plenty of sleep," Warrick said, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone.

"What?" a groggy voice asked.

"Greg, it's Warrick. We need you, at the Diner, right away, man. It's about Grissom's dad."

"What? Oh, okay, I'm there, I mean, I'm on my way." Greg said, hanging up the phone to get dressed.

"Greg's on his way," Warrick announced, as he dialed Sara.

"You've reached CSI Sidle. Leave your name, number, and time you called. I'll get back to you."

"Sara, it's Warrick, a little after two. Meet us at the Diner. We're going over Grissom's case. Later." Warrick said, hanging up the phone.

"Voicemail," he said, looking at Catherine.

They gathered up their research and put it in a duffle, realizing they were breaking most of the rules of the lab by removing the files. Catherine's cell phone started to ring, the ID said, Albert Robbins.

"Hi, Doc,"

"Catherine, may I come to your impromptu meeting?"

"Sure, how did you hear of it? No, let me guess, David…"

"Yeah, the town crier. Anyway, I'll be up in a minute and meet you over there."

"Nah, Doc, come in my car." Catherine insisted.

"Sounds good,"

"No, don't touch me," Grissom murmured softly, trying to evade the restraints.

Sara slept on, hearing nothing.

"Keep your hands off of her," he said, his voice low and threatening.

Sara started to wake up, unsure of where she was.

"Don't touch her," Grissom said loudly, his face flushed, breathing rapidly.

"Easy, Griss, easy," Sara said, sitting upright and touching his face.

He calmed to her hand and settled again.

2:30pm

They sat at the large table in the back, generally reserved for children's birthday parties. The floor was sticky, the lights were bright, and somehow it fit. The waitress brought coffee for all as they looked at each other.

"I'm," Catherine began.

"Catherine Willows, Nick Stokes, Warrick Brown, Greg Sanders, and Doc Robbins, I believe. A pleasure to meet you. Moss is indeed an amazing artist." The man with the grey beard said, looking at each of them as he went around the table.

"Moss?" Catherine asked.

"Grissom, I call him Moss, and he calls me Nuncle,"

"From Lear," Greg remarked.

"Yes, I'm Roger McAllister. I'm a retired criminal lawyer and a friend of Jim's."

"Wait, you're Roger from Elko." Catherine said.

"Yes,"

"Gil told me about you. I'm glad to have you aboard."

"Thanks,"

"What do you have for us?" Jim asked.

"I was waiting for Sara," Catherine explained.

"She's at the hospital with Gil. He has an ulcer and collapsed during the FBI interrogation this morning. He should be out early tomorrow," Jim supplied.

"Wow, uh, okay. Nick, why don't you start?" Catherine said, taking a shaky sip of her coffee.

Warrick reached over and squeezed her hand and held it while Nick spoke.

"You said that the FBI had phone records from the lab. We obtained a copy from them and then cross referenced the account numbers. For accounting purposes, we all have codes to make outgoing phone calls. I cross-referenced the phone calls from Grissom Senior and found only one employee constantly in the building." Nick said, taking a sip of his cooling coffee.

"Tell me," Jim said, his face dark.

Before Nick could answer, a tall man with thinning grey hair and a thick beard walked up to the table.

"Perfect timing," Doc Robbins said, getting to his feet to embrace the other man.

"If you had called me half an hour later I wouldn't have been able to get a seat on the jet." The man replied, returning the embrace.

"Lady and gentlemen, may I introduce my brother, Seb Robbins."

"Seb?" Greg asked.

"Short for Sebastian," the man explained.

"In order, Catherine Willows, Warrick Brown, Nick Stokes, Greg Sanders, Roger McAllister, and Captain Jim Brass," Doc introduced.

"Hi, A.J. called me this morning and told me about the FBI investigation and, well, it rang some bells." Seb said, sitting down next to Jim.

"A.J.?" Greg asked.

"Albert James, Sally started calling me Al when we met in medical school, and it stuck," Doc said, sitting down next to his brother.

"Seb, what kind of bells? I did some research, too, but it was into Grissom Senior and his original problems with the government." Roger asked.

Seb looked around the table, noting the fatigue and emotion on each face.

"There is no investigation into Dr. Grissom or Mr. Grissom, for that matter, involving the F.B.I." Seb said, clearly.

"What?" Jim asked, sitting upright in his chair.

"I'm a supervisor from the FBI, based in DC. I sent an agent to the hospital to keep an eye out. I have no idea who those men were you spoke to this morning." Seb replied.

"Or the men that Ecklie gave copies of our investigation to, yesterday." Greg remarked.

A cell phone rang, and Seb reached to his waist, revealing his gun safely in its holster.

"Robbins, shit, okay, okay, look, the CSI team and police are on their way. Put out a full alert for Dr. Grissom. Don't touch anything. What? A brunette?" Seb said, into the phone, looking to the faces at the table.

"That must be Sara, she works with us, and lives with Grissom," Nick offered.

"Keep an eye on her, Donner. She's special. I'll see you in half an hour. Bye," Seb said, closing his phone.

"Two men, pretending to be a doctor and a nurse, have removed Dr. Grissom from the hospital." Seb said, flatly.

"Nick, head to the hospital and check the video logs. Warrick, you and I are on the room," Catherine said, taking charge.

"What about me?" Greg asked.

"Bring Seb, Doc, and Jim up to speed," Catherine said, plunking down some cash on the table as she followed the others out of the diner.

Greg took the file and started to read, concentrating entirely on the information in front of him.

"I need to make a quick call." Jim said, stepping away from the table.

"Mike? It's Jim Brass. Put out an APB on one Gilbert Aaron Grissom, Jr.; yeah the same Grissom, five foot eleven, one hundred seventy pounds, grey hair, blue eyes, grey beard, and slight limp in his left leg. Take a couple of uniforms and assist the CSIs at Desert Palm. That's where he was kidnapped from. Oh, and Mike? We're working with the FBI on this. Thanks," Jim said, closing his phone, sitting back down at the table.

"Okay, where were we?" Roger asked.

"Nick cross-referenced the phone logs the fake FBI guys said proved that Grissom spoke to his father. In fact, there were several calls made to Senior from the lab. The account number attached to the calls belongs to…" Greg said, pausing for suspense.

"Sofia Curtis," he announced.

"Shit," Jim remarked, running his hand over his face.

"Who is Sofia? Moss never mentioned her." Roger asked, looking at Jim.

"Opportunist who thought that flirting with the boss would get her somewhere," Doc offered.

"With Moss? No way, it's Sara and that's it." Roger said, adding a touch of milk to his coffee.

"Yes, she figured that out, but not without embarrassment. If I was to guess, I'd say this was all a weak attempt to embarrass Gil." Doc remarked.

"Great," Jim said softly. "So are you telling me that she took the calls from Senior?"

"I don't know that. I do know that she called him, however," Greg replied.

Seb quietly took out a file from his briefcase and thumbed through it, rubbing his beard reflectively.

"Can you show me the will?" Roger asked, changing directions.

"Sure, sir," Greg said, reaching into the file for the photocopy of the will.

Roger took it and sat back in his chair. As he read the document, he rubbed his hand through his beard, a motion that the CSIs recognized immediately as similar to Grissom's.

"Please, don't let him know that you've read this." Roger said quietly before handing it to Brass.

Jim read it quickly. In a nutshell, he left his wife two million dollars and his son, the balance of the estate.

Greg realized what Roger was saying. Grissom was as private as they come. Hell, they hadn't even known his father was alive.

Jim continued to read and then stopped, his hand shaking.

"Is this legit?"

"It appears so, but I would run it through Catherine's lab before confirming this." Roger said.

"Do you have an agent with Mrs. Grissom? If they got to him, they might try to get to her." Jim asked.

"Yes, I had someone from the LA office go to see her. Dr. Grissom spoke to her this morning and apparently, she had been receiving correspondence from her husband for many years. She just chose not to tell her son." Seb replied.

"What else do you have?" Jim asked.

"The bullets came from a Smith and Wesson 22. They're in Trace right now. The imprint to his knees was a ball peen hammer. No match, yet." Greg said softly.

"We need that damn FBI file." Jim said, looking at Seb.

Seb reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thick folder, putting back the thin one he had just been reading.

"I can't let you copy it, but I can let you read this." Seb said.

Jim opened the folder and quickly started to read.

"He was in the Witness Protection Program," Greg said.

"Moss said to watch out for you," Roger remarked, looking at the young man with the spiked hair.

"Yes, Grissom Senior was in the Witness Protection Program until Sept. 11, 2001. He was to meet with his handlers at 9:00am in New York at their offices in the Twin Towers. We now know he didn't make the appointment. For the last four years, he was thought to be dead." Seb said.

"Whoa, so Grissom thought his old man was dead and he was alive?" Greg asked.

"It's worse than that. Grissom Senior was abusive. He left the house after beating Gil almost to death. That was in 1964. Roger told that he had learned his father had died on 9/11. His father called him at the lab and Grissom received the call." Jim explained.

"Which explains his panic attack," Doc said softly.

"Oh, man, that's really rough," Greg said, running his hand through his hair.

"Yeah, for the last several months, Grissom has been dealing with the memories of his childhood. In addition, he has an ulcer from the crap that Rory and Ecklie are dumping on him." Jim added.

"Yeah, we've all noticed how depressed and introverted he's become since that plane crash case. What can we do now, sir?" Greg asked.

"Watch your backs, especially with Sofia and Ecklie. They have an agenda, now. Grissom's going to need your support, but you know he's a private person, so small things are best." Jim said, handing the file back to Seb.

"Jim, can you give me a moment?" Seb asked.

"Sure; fellas, I'll meet you outside."

Greg, Doc and Roger nodded as they stood to disperse.

"What is it, Seb?" Jim asked, leaning on the back of the chair.

"Sofia Curtis has a record," Seb said, reaching back into his briefcase and handing Jim the file.

"What? That's impossible. They're not allowed to work for the PD, if they have a record." Jim said, reading.

"When Sofia was a minor, she was arrested for possession with intent to sell heroin in Miami. Guess who was in Miami at the same time?" Seb asked.

"You're kidding, Senior?" Jim asked, still flipping through the file.

"None other," Seb replied.

"Well, I guess we need to keep an eye on her. I don't have any reason to pick her up and I don't want to tip our hand." Jim said.

"No, exactly. I'm going to go check in with the office and then my hotel. Here's my card," Seb said, taking the file from Jim while handing him a business card.

"Great, here's my card," Jim said, fishing into his pocket.

"Uhm, I have dossiers on all of you, James McHenry Brass of Bayonne, New Jersey." Seb said with a chuckle.

"Man, I think I'm in trouble," Jim said, standing up to walk outside.

1:30pm

Sara was standing over Grissom, her hips squared as she put her hands on his face to calm him. It had been over an hour. He hadn't woken himself up, but she was afraid to leave him.

2:00pm

Sara had fallen back into a light sleep in the chair when the door opened and two men walked in.

"Excuse me miss, we need to give Dr. Grissom his medicine and poke and prod him a bit." The tall doctor said.

"What? Oh, yeah, okay, I'll go get some coffee." Sara said, standing slowly.

She grabbed her purse and headed out of Grissom's room to the cafeteria. When she entered the large service area she noted a sign that said cell phones were allowed and so she reached to her belt and flipped on her phone. As she walked to the coffee dispenser, her phone beeped, indicating that there was a voice mail. She dialed the number and entered her code.

"Sara, it's Warrick, a little after two. Meet us at the Diner. We're going over Grissom's case. Later." The voice said.

Looking at her watch, she realized she had missed them. She poured herself a large coffee and added a touch of milk before heading to the cashier. Paying, she took a tentative sip and then walked towards the elevators to get back up to the sixth floor.

She entered Grissom's room and dropped her coffee on the floor and started to cry. Grissom's bed was empty, the IVs were hanging from their stirrups and dripping onto the floor, the closet door was open and its contents were gone, and there was blood on the floor. At that moment, a well-dressed man walked quickly into the room. He pulled out his phone and made a call.

"He's gone. We're too late. There's just a woman in tears here now." The man said into the phone, looking around the room and casting his stare on the thin brunette in tears.

"I won't let her out of my sight. Bye." He hung up the phone and turned to the woman who was rapidly falling apart.

"Miss, I'm Special Agent Donner, of the FBI," he said, flashing his badge and ID, and holding it for her to view. "We need to go into the hallway and secure the room. The police and CSIs are on their way."

Putting his arm around her shoulders, he carefully guided her around the spilt coffee and into the hallway. Ten minutes later, two uniformed officers arrived and right behind them, Catherine, Warrick, and Nick.

Sara pushed away from Agent Donner and fell into Nick's arms as Warrick and Catherine encircled them both. Agent Donner spoke to the uniforms and assigned one to watch the room and the other to watch Sara.

"Honey, I'm so sorry," Nick said softly as he held her close.

"We'll find him. Don't worry. We'll find him." Warrick said, standing with his hand on her shoulder.

"Sara, let us tackle the room so Mia and Greg can get a jump, and then we'll talk to you, okay?" Catherine asked.

Sara nodded and then felt the strong arms of Agent Donner ease her into a chair. Nick went in search of the hospital supervisor. Agent Donner signaled Sara's man to go with Nick.

"I'm Nick Stokes, with the Crime Lab; I need to see your surveillance tapes." He said, his voice low and serious.

"Yes, of course, let me call Mr. Adams, head of security, one moment." Leslie Roberts replied, picking up the phone.

"He'll be here shortly. He's in the basement." She explained.

"I've got blood," Warrick announced from his hands and knees on the floor.

"Me, too. I'm thinking Grissom didn't go quietly, no matter how he felt." Catherine replied.

There was a knock on the door and Catherine answered it.

"I'm Paul Evans, Dr. Grissom's physician. I believe I might have some information for you." He said, wiping his fatigued eyes.

"Warrick, I'm in the hallway," Catherine said.

Warrick waved his hand and continued to process.

Agent Donner observed Dr. Evans with Catherine.

"You know Grissom was brought in with an FBI agent. He's in ICU. Grissom hit him and almost killed him." Dr. Evans said.

"Doctor, I'm Agent Donner, a real FBI agent. The man in ICU is an imposter. Would you post a hospital guard until my boss sends someone?" he asked, handing him his ID for inspection.

"No, let me call the musketeers, they brought Grissom in, they can handle it." Paul said, reaching for a business card and the desk phone.

"Brass,"

"It's Paul Evans at the hospital. I wanted to remind you that FBI man is here, unguarded, in ICU."

"Shit, thanks, Paul, I'll call my guy. Everything else all right?" Jim asked.

"Sure, except for the fact that a VIP patient was forcibly removed from my hospital, everything is nifty." Paul replied.

"Right, I'm five minutes out,"

"See you soon."

Jim ended the conversation and quickly dialed another number.

"Mike, it's Jim, send another uniform to ICU. Ask for Dr. Paul Evans. No visitors." Brass demanded.

"Yes, sir," Mike replied.

Jim hung up his phone, returning his concentration to driving his car.

"Hey," Catherine called as she walked back into the room, reaching into her vest for a new pair of gloves.

"Hey, I've found about twenty different fingerprints so far." Warrick said, carefully dusting the table near the bed.

"How far have you gotten?" Catherine said, walking up behind him with her kit.

"Just this table," Warrick said, turning to look at her.

"Oookay, I think I'm going to start at the door and work forwards." Catherine said, heading to the door.

"Chicken," Warrick teased with a grin.

"Not in your lifetime!" she quipped over her shoulder.

Catherine walked out into the hallway and started to process the door. Sara sat with her head in her hands, Agent Donner stood against the wall, affording him a clear view up and down the hallway.

"Kiddo, I'm so sorry," Jim said, as he practically trotted down the corridor with Roger and Greg in tow.

Jim embraced her, feeling the small shudders through her body as she started to cry again.

"Greg, great, head into the room and give Warrick a hand. Share his kit." Catherine said.

"No, Catherine, this is a day-shift case now." A voice from behind her announced.

"Ecklie, you can't be serious." Catherine said, finishing her print before standing.

"Conrad, this isn't a CSI case or a police case, it is an FBI case." Jim said, over Sara's shoulder.

"I know, I spoke to them yesterday," Ecklie said, smugly.

"Mr. Ecklie, I'm Agent Kevin Donner, FBI, Washington office. The men you spoke to, the man Dr. Grissom hit this morning who is in ICU, these men are imposters. It is a federal crime to impersonate an FBI agent. These CSIs are acting under the specific direction of FBI Supervisor Sebastian Robbins. It is an FBI case." Donner said, approaching him.

"We'll see what the Sheriff says." Ecklie said in a threatening voice.

"Yes, I believe that you and the Sheriff will have a lot to say to Supervisor Robbins." Donner replied.

Ecklie stood still for a moment and then left. Greg walked into Grissom's room and started to process. Jim held Sara tightly, speaking softly into her ear. Catherine resumed lifting the prints off the door. Agent Donner took his protective position.