Author's note: Wow, so sorry about the wait! I've been meaning to update this, but no ideas were flowing. And this is why re-reading is good. I read what I had and poof this is what came out. Short, I know, but I'm on a roll, so more to follow soon!

Dedication: This one goes out to Darth Kat! Ha, I got a dedication to you! Ha! Because you inspired me to keep writing this! Yay!

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Standing in the dying yard of the small house on the quite street made Sara feel uneasy. A dog barked nearby, and she blinked behind her dark sunglasses. Long strands of silky hair whipped around her face with help from the hot Nevada wind, and she crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive pose. Although she couldn't tell what she was defending herself from.

"Yes, thank you sir, we appreciate the help," Grissom flipped his cell phone close and turned around to join Sara, "Her landlord said she never really mentioned where she was going. Just something about visiting a personal landmark."

Sara hummed as she continued to stare at the house. She sighed, "It's the same color as our old home in California."

She walked up to the house and let her slender fingers run over the baby blue paint. A tiny chip came off between her fingers and she stared down at it. No matter how much time, a new coat of paint couldn't hide the scars, she thought wryly. She dropped the chip and looked through the dirty windows. New carpet, faded white walls, but empty. She shook her head.

"Why does a dying women move all her stuff with her?" she asked her reflection.

"Maybe she gave it to a charity?" offered Grissom, "We could look into it. She may have left a forwarding address or a phone number…"

But Sara wasn't listening. She was staring at the dying flower bed below the window, a distant smile gracing her otherwise stoic features, "She had a garden in California too."

She sat on the steps near the garden and let her fingertips run over the last of the living flowers. Grissom took a few steps closer to join her on the steps. Without hesitation, she continued, "When my father would go out, she'd escape to the garden. She had this dusty pair of overalls that she'd put on and this old banged up metal bucket that she would fill with dirt. My mother would spend hours out there, by the garden, planting and harvesting and watering. Nurturing those plants. Like she was making up for a marriage she couldn't save."

Sara drew her hand back and rubbed at her arm, fighting back the chill that threatened to course through her body, "A few days before she… murdered my father, she went outside, like she always did, but she didn't get to work right away. Just sat there, staring at the flowers. Then, as soon as my dad got home, she tore the garden up. Silently, without a tear, just… uprooted all the flowers. Like she knew it would all be over soon and she wouldn't need that garden anymore," Sara turned to Grissom, "It's weird that I never really put the two events together until now."

"When people get ready to commit suicide, they start to get rid of personal belongings," Grissom took a breath, "Maybe that was her way of making what she was about to do easier. Knowing she wouldn't be leaving any personal items behind and knowing she was giving you a better life."

Sara gave Grissom a weak smile and turned away. As she did, something in the bushes caught her attention.

"Grissom…"

Her hand reached out and grabbed the item from small bush next to the steps. She frowned as she brought it closer.

"What is it?" asked Grissom.

"It's a picture. Oh my God."

"What?" said Grissom, leaning closer.

"We had this secluded part of the shoreline we'd always go to on summer vacations. It was the only place my parents didn't fight. This picture, this is the year before everything happened. My dad bought a new camera for that trip and everything."

Grissom grinned down as he studied the picture. A young Sara Sidle gave a wide gap-toothed smile to the camera, chestnut hair up in long ponytail. A slender women with dark curly hair stood next to her, allowing a small smile to creep to her face. Behind them was the Pacific ocean, small waves rolling up the golden sand.

"Do you think she dropped it when she was moving her stuff out?" he asked Sara.

"No. I think she's leaving us bread crumbs." said Sara with a grin.

Sara stood up and slipped the photo into her pocket. She started walking toward the SUV.

"So, what's the plan from here?" asked Grissom.

Sara shrugged, "I need to get out to California. I think I know where she's going."