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Chapter 11: The Trial

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Month passed. Sara's physical therapy was going well. She was back at work, and everyone knew that the void that had been there while she was in the hospital had been filled. It was so good to have her back, although the sight of her slowly limping down the hall with her cane was still a little disconcerting. Daily they were reminded of what could have been. Of course, no one said anything. They merely worked their cases and handed her the lab results, occasionally pulling out a chair and asking if she needed any help, which she stubbornly (but politely) refused.

Sara was happier than anyone to be back at the lab. It was her second home…It was where she felt most comfortable. Sure, she was only doing minimal work around the lab, but she was okay with that. It kept her hands and her mind occupied, which was comforting on some deep subconscious level.

But nothing could have prepared her for what came on one dreary autumn day.

"Please tell me you're joking."

He stared at her with sympathy and compassion. "I wish I was."

He watched as her body tensed and her grip on her cane tightened. As if she hadn't already been through enough in the past few months, he could tell by her reaction just how much she dreaded having to face the man of her nightmares.

"Don't you have enough evidence to convict him without me having to testify?"

"Not if we're going to guarantee that he won't be back on the streets. We need you..."

The look in his eyes told her that he wanted justice as much as she did.

"I thought he was going to jail anyway for the shootout with Catherine and Brass."

He sighed. "He is, but that's only going to get him 25 years, and that's if they can prove it was him, which they're still working on. Sara, please… for your sake."

She looked at the floor, defeated. She knew there was no other way. She also knew that this was the only way that she'd be able to face the world again. Slowly, she nodded.

A look of relief crossed his face. "He's going away, Sara. The evidence is solid, and your testimony will seal his fate… You know that, right?"

She nodded again.

He hesitated before continuing. "Good. Then there's something you should know… His lawyer is Marjory Wescott."

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One Week Later…

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"Please rise… This court is now in session. Case file number 0094857, The People v. Todd Owen, the honorable Judge Celindra Kettinger presiding."

Sara stared at the door as she stood, Catherine and Grissom on either side of her, and watched as the slender black woman in flowing black robes made her way into the courtroom and to her seat. There was a sort of grace with which the woman moved, a grace that Sara had once moved with and could now sincerely appreciate in other women. Her eyes moved to the defense. Anger welled up in her at the sight of Marjory Wescott whispering to her client, but it died the moment he came into view, replaced instantly by fear and anguish. Sara quickly pushed it aside and gripped her cane for physical and emotional support as they were invited to sit.

The judge looked over the case file before her, momentarily glancing both at Sara and at the accused. Giving it another quick overlook, she closed the file and looked up.

"Prosecution, you may call your first witness."

Kenneth Ferguson, the DA, stepped forward. "Prosecution calls Dr. Gil Grissom to the stand."

Grissom squeezed Sara's hand and gave her a small smile before he rose and made his way to the front of the courtroom. After he was sworn in, he moved to what had come to be known by the CSIs as "the hot seat".

"Please state and spell your name for the record."

He took a deep breath. "Gil Grissom. G-r-i-s-s-o-m."

"Dr. Grissom, you were the CSI called to the scene where Ms. Sidle was found, correct?"

Sara sat forward. No one had told her what had happened that night.

"Yes, that is correct. Mrs. Willows and I were called out to a 404 in Henderson."

"And for the record, what exactly is a 404?"

"Police code. A 404 is the call for unknown trouble. There were limited details as to what exactly we would find at the scene. All we knew was that an anonymous tip was called into the station, stating that a young woman was found just inside an old warehouse in Henderson, and that the coroner had already arrived."

"Had he pronounced yet?"

Grissom shook his head. "Not at the time we got the call. But it took us a half an hour to drive out to Henderson. By the time Mrs. Willows and I arrived at the scene, the coroner pronounced that Sara… Ms. Sidle… was dead."

Ferguson looked at Sara sitting behind the prosecution desk, then turned back to Grissom. "Well, she's sitting right over there, Mr. Grissom, so she obviously didn't die," he said, holding a hand out in her direction. "What happened?"

Closing his eyes for what seemed like an eternity that actually only lasted a fraction of a second, he gathered his strength and prepared himself for the trip down Memory Lane that he'd dreaded revisiting. Taking a breath, he avoided Sara's stare as he spoke.

"When we arrived, Detective Brass met us and lead us to the warehouse. There were cops everywhere, lights shining on the entrance. When we got inside, we stood in the entry and simply observed the surroundings before actually approaching Ms. Sidle. The first thing you could see was a chair in the middle of the room with handcuffs attached to the back. There was blood on the floor showing directionality to and from the bed that sat in the corner."

Ferguson interrupted and showed a photo depicting the blood drops. "Exhibit A, Your Honor." He then nodded at Grissom to continue.

"The sheets on the bed were tussled and there were linen ties at each of the corners that were stained red with blood."

"Exhibit B, Your Honor."

Catherine knew that the judge was being shown the picture that had proven the hardest to look at, knowing what must have happened there. She looked at her friend and coworker seated beside her, knowing that it couldn't be easy to be told how she was found presumably dead.

Sara sat with her hands gripping her cane, trembling as silent tears made wet trails down her strong cheekbones. Her eyes were trained on the man that had saved her life, but her mind was stuck back in the warehouse, the memories that she had blocked out from that terrifying night flooding back as he described the scene.

Grissom continued.

"Ms. Sidle laid to the right just inside the entrance. Mrs. Willows examined her first, and noted that lividity was not yet present and that there was very little blood pooling, indicating that she had not been there long. Our best estimate was about one to two hours."

The lawyer paced in front of the witness stand, his hands behind his back. "What did you do next?"

"Ms. Sidle was lying face down and her hair was covering her face, so we rolled her over. When we realized that it was her, Mrs. Willows checked her ID in her purse, which was lying nearby, confirming our findings. We took a few moments to grieve, and it was then that the body was examined."

"What did you find, Dr. Grissom?"

Grissom took a shaky breath as he pictured her lying on the warehouse floor. "She had been shot once in the back of her left leg, and stabbed twice in the back. Her… Her jeans were undone and stained with blood. Her camisole was intact, but the buttons on her blouse had been ripped off. There were… bruises on her face, neck, and arms. When the flashlight shone over her face, her eyes contracted and Mrs. Willows called for the paramedics. The other officers began searching everywhere for anything they could do to help, and Detective Brass called Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown to take over the scene."

"What did you do?"

"I rode with Sara… Ms. Sidle… in the ambulance. Mrs. Willows followed. We waited for about two hours in the waiting room before we heard any news."

"And what did the doctor tell you?"

Suddenly, Marjory Wescott jumped from her chair. "Objection, Your Honor! Leading the witness."

"Overruled," the judge countered. "Continue, Counsel."

Ferguson nodded to Grissom. "What did he tell you?"

"He said that the stab wounds were deep, that her lung had been punctured, and had she arrived at the hospital any later than she had, she-" He bit back a lump in his throat. "She wouldn't have made it… Her kneecap was shattered from the gunshot, and she'd be in a wheelchair until it was fixed." He closed his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to continue.

Ferguson stared at Grissom. "Dr. Grissom?"

He couldn't look at her. He couldn't. If he did, he'd never be able to say it. He resisted the urge to look her direction, knowing that at this point she was probably drawing strength from him.

The judge began to be irritated. "Dr. Grissom, answer the question."

He took a breath. "The doctor also told us that she'd been raped. He had performed an SAE kit, and took a vaginal swab to be sent back to the lab."

All heads suddenly turned to the seats behind the prosecution bench as Sara began to be sick, the images brought on by the testimony proving to be too strong. The judge rapped her gavel to regain the attention of the court.

"Order! I will have order in my courtroom! Someone get Ms. Sidle to a bathroom." As Catherine took Sara by the hand and led her out, Judge Kettinger continued. "Dr. Grissom will finish his testimony, and then the court will take a 30 minute recess to clean up that mess. Counsel, wrap this up."

Ferguson nodded. "Of course, Your Honor… Dr. Grissom, please continue."

"Dr. Lee then informed us that we could visit with her. It was then that I took myself off the case and assigned Mrs. Willows the primary position on the case, with CSIs Brown and Stokes working under her."

"Thank you, Dr. Grissom. Prosecution rests, Your Honor."

Judge Kettinger nodded. "This court is in recess. We will reconvene in 30 minutes for cross-examination." Hitting her gavel once more, she left the bench and sent the bailiff to find a janitor.

A/N: OK, I swear I didn't fall off the edge of the earth! This chapter was so hard to write... Thank you so much to those of you who have stuck with me and encouraged me to keep going.
On another note, I must say that I have appreciated all constructive criticism that has been submitted. However, I do NOT appreciate flames and hate messages! I was raised with the rule that if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all. I'm going to ask that the same rule apply here. If you don't like it, you don't have to read!
There... now that I have that out of my system...
forbesn: Thank you so much! Your reviews keep me laughing. It's good to know that I'm doing my job.
Anonymous Skeleton: I'm honored to hold that position. I hope that this chapter is up to your oh-so-high expectations. I sincerely appreciate your honesty.

Teaser: If there was one thing he knew about Marjory Wescott, it was that she did not start with the simple questions. She dove right in with the big guns. He was not disappointed...

"Tell us again, Mr. Grissom, why it is that you took yourself off the case?"

"Ms. Sidle is a coworker and an employee on my shift. It was inappropriate for me to stay on the case."

"But Mrs. Willows and the rest of the tam on this case were also coworkers with Ms. Sidle, and yet they stayed on the case," Marjory persisted. "Could it be because Ms. Sidle is more than just a coworker?"

Catherine's face fell as she watched Marjory pile on the pressure. 'O shit...'