Title: Last Chance - Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. As horrible as that may seem. So I'm still not making any profit. No infringement intended. Don't sue me. :)

Authors' note: It's 4am. My peak hour! Which means that I am going to type this now. Even if I'd rather be doing anything else. Don't get me wrong. I love writing it. Just not typing it. My computer and I have a love/hate relationship. I love to hate it. :) Anyway, I also love feedback, so if you find me worthy, please, leave me some. Thanks! Oh and realize that at the end . . . I don't know where Sara's car came from either . . . it needed to be there . . . Use your imagination . . . maybe she picked it up earlier. Sorry . . . :(

Grissom kept his eyes closed the entire way to the Ampress residence but his mind was anything but asleep. It had so much to process that for the first time in a very long time he was having trouble concentrating. This case was coming together so nice. But something was nagging at the back of Grissom's brain. Something that would be solid evidence. Something - but he just couldn't put his finger on what it was. And every time he almost had it in his grasp, another thought interrupted him - Sara. It was ridiculous. He couldn't think because he missed her. He missed her and she was less then a foot away. What the hell was he going to be like when she was really gone? Oh no, he wasn't going there yet. He still had two weeks. There would be time to go down that road of pain later.

Suddenly he snatched his thought right out of thin air. "Sara? Where are the dogs?" He sat up straight and looked at her. "Ampress was going on about the dogs . . . do we know where they are?"

"Umm . . . I found a memo in the trash to remind Mr. Fina to pick them up at the kennel today . . . you don't think . . . "

Grissom pulled out his phone. "Warrick. Sara pulled a memo from the trash in the vics office . . . to pick up the dogs. It's logged into evidence. I need you to get it and find out what kennel they used . . . " Grissom stopped but continued to hold the phone to his ear. His fingers started tapping out the same impatient tune that Sara had been tapping, just earlier in the day. "Good . . . I want you to get over there and find out if the Fina's picked them up early. And if they didn't . . . who did" He paused. "Unless of course they are still there safe and sound." He stopped to listen. "...yeah that's the conclusion we came to as well . . . We're going to Ampress' . . . ok . . . yep . . . "

He hung up the phone as they pulled up infront of a small house. A woman about Sara's age was standing on the front lawn holding the hand of a little girl. Grissom assumed that was Penelope Ampress.

Brass walked up to them as the exited the car. "Hey guys, the house is empty, well of people anyway . . . Its all yours."

Grissom walked into the house, and it was immaculate.

"Wow . . . " Sara said walking in behind him. "I always expect a suspects home to be more . . . cluttered . . . "

Grissom took in the baby blue walls with the dust free picture frames. The freshly vacuumed floor. And the perfectly straight books in the neat bookcases. "Always keep your home clean, Sara, you never know when something might happen that will bring us to your door . . . "

He raised an eyebrow at Sara and she smiled. "Lets see where they keep the dirt."

Grissom nodded. "You start in back and I'll start in the front"

Sara just nodded as she started down the hallway pointing her flashlight into every room she passed.

Forty five minutes later after finding nothing that meant anything Grissom moved back to the living room. There he found a safe, locked, but within ten more minutes of looking he had found the key. He opened the lid slowly and shined his flashlight inside. There he found three containers . . . jars. The first had no label and was filled with a powder. Grissom bagged it and grabbed the next jar. Sleeping pills Grissom bagged these as well. The last seemed to be an over-the-counter allergy medication. Pills in the bottle matched the label on the outside. These he bagged as well.

The safe contained nothing else so he stood and walked back to the bedroom where Sara was rummaging through the drawers in the dresser. "Anything?"

"Nope, you?"

Grissom held up the bags containing the jars. "Possible murder weapon? Idiot locked them in the safe. Like we weren't going to look there."

Sara smiled at him. "Wanna go do the garage?"

"You read my mind." Grissom's cell rang then and he peeled off a glove before answering. "Grissom . . . really?" he broke into a grin. "...and they were . . . Good work . . . nah, you can go home . . . take a nap . . . see you in seven hours . . . " He shut his phone. "That was Warrick. The dogs were picked up yesterday . . . want to guess by whom?"

Sara grinned. "Anthony Ampress . . . "

"You got it. And we're not talking small dogs here. St. Bernard's. Plural. Two of them."

"Well if he killed them that would explain the amount of blood . . . "

"Now, lets find the evidence that says he did it." Grissom opened the garage door. "Just as clean as the rest of the house . . . "

"Does that surprise you Griss . . . ?"

"Just wondering which member of the house missed a spot." He pointed his gloved finger toward a small dark drop on the cement floor."

Sara looked around. "And I'm wondering what kind of person scrubs their garage with . . . you smell that?"

Grissom smirked. "Amateur . . . when are people going to learn that not even bleach can take away all the blood spilled. It might disappear but its still there - right under the surface just waiting for us to discover it."

Sara pulled her Luminal from her kit and began spraying the floor. It lit up in a pattern.

"Well," Grissom said, "Surely something died here . . . "

Sara was already swabbing the bright blue area. Grissom snapped off a few photos of the area before the Luminal faded.

Sara looked up from her kneeling position. "It isn't human. Field test confirms that . . . "

Grissom took another swab. "Maybe the new DNA guy can get a match to the blood at the scene . . . it's probably too degraded from the bleach but . . . "

Sara looked dead serious. "...we can only hope . . . "

"No, Sara, we can find those two dogs. Science tells me he had to have drugged them with something . . . or bashed them over the head with something. Hung them up . . . and bled them like pigs . . . " Sara looked about ready to throw up. Her eyes closed and she swallowed fast. "You ok?"

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, I'm fine, just a little . . . disturbed . . . "

Grissom put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry . . . I know you . . . "

"Hey Griss, it's not like it's your fault that this guys nothing but a revenge seeking sicko . . . I've seen worse. Heard worse. And processed worse. I'll be fine."

Grissom nodded. He almost believed her.

"Uh Griss?"

"Yeah?"

Sara gave him a weak smile. "I think I should go home and sleep for a while." She did sound tired and wasn't as though he didn't feel dead on his feet.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, why don't we let the cops do their jobs for a while . . . are we done here?"

"For now . . . come on, I'll take you back to your car."

He led her out of the house, again with his hand against her back. But this time out of worry. For Sara to relent . . . even temporarily . . . without being forced to, in the middle of a case, she must be dead tired.

"Sara? You want me to take you home?" he asked as the pulled away from the house.

"Nah, I'm good to drive." She was quiet the rest of the drive back to the lab.

"Sleep Sara . . . " he said as he pulled up beside her car.

"Yeah Grissom, you too." She waved at him. "See you tonight though." She slammed the car door and climbed inside her own vehicle, pulling out of the lot a few minutes later.

To Be Continued...