I know I haven't updated this fic in ages, it's just so horribly hard to write and I'm very lazy. This chapter was originally two very short ones, but it kind of became one after a while. It's not as good as I would like but trying to rewrite it would take me even longer, so sorry about that. Please R+R!

-------------------------

-------------------------

"Can't stop long tonight, I've got to go to work in a bit,"

The bar was busy, as it usually was in the early evening.

"What a pity. I was looking forward to talking to you,"

"No, I'm later than I thought. Seriously, I've got to go!"

"Maybe later then,"

"Yeah. Bye!"

----------------------------

"Got the results yet Greg?" Catherine asked. He had agreed to do this job quickly for her when he had found out what had happened.

"Got a match on the semen found in Eve Mackenzie," he handed her a printout, without any of the usual preamble.

"Tony Hill…" She had heard that name before somewhere.

"Registered sex offender. Got released from jail on parole a few months ago,"

"I'll pay Mr Hill a visit,"

-----------------------------

"Yeah?" The man who answered the door looked like he had just got out of bed.

"CSI Willows, Las Vegas crime lab. Can I ask you a few questions?"

"Yeah, why not. Come in then," Catherine followed him into an apartment that smelt of stale beer and cigarettes.

"You're Tony Hill, am I right?"

"Yeah, that's me,"

"The sex offender?"

"That was a long time ago. I don't do that stuff any more,"

"Somehow I don't believe you. We found your DNA in the body of a young girl yesterday. You raped and killed her, didn't you?"

"No!" he looked so shocked Catherine could almost believe him for a second. But just one.

"Some guy brought her round here. At first I told him where to go, you know, I don't do that now. But he offered me a thousand dollars, said there was no way the cops'd know…" Catherine was surprised to see a tear roll down his cheek. "I'm busted, right?"

"Yeah, you are,"

-----------------------

Tony Hill has been arrested. That lowlife deserved it. He was a criminal.

I know what you're thinking. What am I?

I'm an artist. If you don't mind the needless dramatics, an artist of revenge.

--------------------------

Gil slowly got out of the car, suppressing a sigh. Sara was standing at the other end of the dusty car park, staring at the spot where they had found Teresa.

"Admiring the view?"

He was rewarded with a shaky grin.

"Not much to admire really," She frowned again. "What if we never find him, Gil? What if he just… walks away?"

"He won't,"

Sara laughed bitterly.

"Come on. You've seen the evidence. It's leading us round in circles,"

"You never used to be this pessimistic,"

"I never used to be this bad at my job,"

"No-one could have done any better. Sometimes we just get a killer who's smarter than us,"

"No-one's smarter than you,"

"You'd be surprised,"

"Hey, what's that?" Sara knelt next to an almost imperceptible mark near the bushes. "Looks like tyre marks,"

"How did we miss that?"

"I don't think we did… they come round here and under where the body was,"

"We got a sample of that, right?"

"Of course… You think that's the killer's car?"

"Maybe,"

----------------------------

"Mrs Mackenzie?" The crying woman in the lobby looked up for a second, staring blankly at Catherine for a few seconds before recognising her.

"You phoned me, said it was something to do with Eve…" Catherine was relieved she hadn't had to be the one to tell this woman her daughter was dead.

"We've got her belongings, the things we found on her body,"

It wasn't much really. Two cents, a stone with glittery bits in and a shiny red plastic yo-yo.

"This… This wasn't my daughter's,"

"Excuse me?"

"My little Eve, she hated yo-yos. Never played with them,"

Catherine stared. This was still in its plastic bag, probably hadn't been touched by anyone except people wearing gloves…

She ran out of the room, nearly knocking Greg over.

"Whoa! What's the rush?"

"Got to get to the fingerprint lab," Cathrine carried on for a bit, then turned back. "Greg, there's a lady in the lobby whose daughter just died. Go talk to her for me, I'll be back in about half an hour,"

"Oh, thanks,"

But she was already gone.

------------------------------

They're getting closer to finding the link. Time for another piece of the puzzle.

------------

"Have you ever felt, like, it's all just a dream and you're gonna wake up but…" His forehead wrinkled as he tried to recall the rest of his sentence.

The pencil glided smoothly across paper. "Do go on…"

"Hey, haven't you been drinkin' that for the last… the last…"

"Never mind that,"

"No, I do mind," The drunk man made a grab for the notebook, fingers touching it for a few seconds before it was snatched away "You sit here writing that stuff down and looking all mysterious and you're… you're… not,"

The man stood up, coldness radiating off him.

"This conversation is over," He turned to the door. "Find your own way home,"

---------------------------

"Sara," Gil came up behind her, but this barely surprised her anymore. A picture of a bright red sports car was shoved in front of her nose.

"I didn't realise you were into this sort of car,"

"I'm not. But if I found one I would certainly like to process it,"

"You mean…" She stared at him open-mouthed.

"This is the car we're looking for,"

"Cool,"

-------------------------

This is the one I was most looking forward to. For weeks I've been waiting, making little suggestions, being in all the right places, making things happen… This is the night. I'm sure of it.

All it takes is one little gunshot.

-------------------------

Warrick set his kit down next to the body, taking care not to disturb any of the fine grains around it.

"What happened?"

"Girl was coming home from work, found the body," Brass gestured to a girl sitting on the kerb the other side of the street, crying. Nick was saying something to her, but he couldn't hear it.

"OK,"

He looked at the body. It was a boy, about fourteen or fifteen, with a face so badly burned Warrick couldn't tell what colour his skin was. He had been shot once in the back of the head, but there were bruises visible through rips in his shirt.

"Ouch," Nick gently turned the boy's head so he could get a better look at the burns.

"Poor kid," agreed Warrick. "How do you think he got these?"

"Looks chemical," Nick ran a swab down the swollen cheek. "Acid?"

"Maybe,"

"Did you get a sample of that stuff?" Nick pointed to the white powder that was scattered liberally around the body. Warrick gave him a look that would have blistered paint.

"Had to ask… What'd she say?" The last part was directed at Brass, who had come over.

"She says she was coming back from the kebab place round the corner. She always uses this street as a shortcut. Found the body, called 911 on her cellphone,"

"Sounds right,"

--------------------------

There were no fingerprints on the yo-yo, not even Eve's.

Catherine ran a hand through her hair. She was exhausted, and just wanted to get home. But she couldn't leave this. Not while that guy was till out there.

A shadow moved past the door. She turned round, but it was only Greg, holding a cup of coffee and grinning broadly.

"Getting paranoid in your old age?"

"If you didn't have this I'd kill you," she replied, grabbing the cup and gulping down half of it. She instantly regretted this when she realised how hot it was.

"How did you know that wasn't mine?"

"Easy," Catherine smiled back at him. "You'd be using the clown mug,"

He scowled and left, slamming the door behind him but not before she heard him mutter,

"I like that mug,"

-------------------------

"I've had too many children on the table this week,"

The coroner looked down mournfully at the boy.

"What happened to him?" Warrick pretended to be very interested in the skull X-rays on the wall, anything to avoid looking at that swollen face.

"Second degree facial burns, caused by some chemical substance. Multiple lacerations to the torso and arms, covered in bruises… He was badly beaten. And all before this…" He tilted the boy's head so the hole, which had before been covered in crusted blood, was visible. "Single gunshot wound to the back of the head. I got the bullet out for you,"

Warrick accepted the small plastic bag. "Thanks. Do we know who he is?"

"Not yet,"

------------------------

Gil was getting tired of seeing his CSIs on the verge of tears over a case. It had happened a lot lately, mainly to Sara while she was working on Teresa White's murder, but never before to Catherine.

"What happened?"

"There's no evidence, I can't think of any other leads to follow… It's like a case years old, even though it only happened two days ago,"

"Why don't you take a break, come back later? It's worth a try,"

"Oh. OK,"

-------------------------

One part down, one to go. There will be a very nasty surprise in the morning.

---------------------------

Ring ring.

"Grissom,"

"You know that car you put a search out for? We found one that might be it,"

"Where?"

"Few miles east of the city. Found abandoned, blood on the front seat. No-one's touched it; we knew you'd want the first look,"

"I'm on my way,"

-------------------------

I love my gloves. So simple, but so good at fooling CSI tests. I personally made sure there was not a shred of my clothing or DNA it that car, but I left a little something for my informant. A thank you present, perhaps.

The expense? I can afford it. Anything would be worth this.

------------------------

A single man in a bar. He sits at one of the tables, orders a drink.

"How're you gonna pay for that?"

"I don't know,"

"At least give me your name,"

"Why?"

"'Cos in an hour or two you might not remember,"

"Sanders. Greg Sanders,"