Chapter Seven

Two days after the bodies had been found, a likely suspect was uncovered. Fibers from a towel were found at the home of Bob Kass, a family friend, which were consistent with fibers found at the scene. But he had an alibi that put him out of town on business for the past two weeks. Prior to that, his alibi was flimsy. If the bodies were murdered and dumped in the desert more than three weeks ago, he would be the prime suspect. The insects collected at the scene for examination indicated that the bodies had been dumped eighteen days ago. The DA was reluctant to charge until the timeline was confirmed by the maturing larvae in Grissom's office.

As the 'resident entomologist', Grissom was charged with securing all evidence that dealt with insects. This included creating any timeline and presenting his expert testimony in court. And to ensure the integrity of the evidence, Grissom had instructed the CSI's on all shifts to contact him for insect collection, when feasible.

Grissom had focused all of his energy for the past two days in pinpointing the moment in the life cycle of the blowflies when they were collected at the scene. This should be enough to charge Kass. Grissom was frustrated that the DA was insisting on the mature flies to confirm.

According to his calculations, the pupae should become blowflies within the next 36 hours. Only three pupae remained viable for maturation by the time he had set up the experiment. But he had seen the photos from the scene and how brutally the victims had been mutilated. He wasn't taking any chances that he might be wrong and had decided to remain in the lab until the flies had matured. This bastard wasn't going to get away because of his foul up.

Sara stopped in his door. "Are you ready for breakfast?"

Barely looking up from his papers, in which he was confirming his calculations for the 100th time, Grissom shook his head and responded, "Not today. I'm sticking around to time the fly hatch."

Nodding, Sara left.

Finishing his calculations, Grissom looked up in time to see her disappear around the corner. How was it that when he was immersed in work he didn't think about Sara at all. And as soon as he was drawn away from the work, he could think of nothing but her.

Thinking only of Sara had put this case in jeopardy. If he hadn't been trying so hard to impress her, he would have been available to collect those insects and have a solid timeline. As it was, he only had three pupae and he hovered over them as if they were his children, afraid something would happen and ruin the D.A.'s chances of making a case.

There was a low rumble which interrupted Grissom's train of thought. He realized that it was his stomach. He wished he had gone with Sara to get breakfast. He could have been away for that brief time. Except that when he was with Sara, he lost track of time. He was much safer staying here.

It was going to be a long vigil awaiting the fly hatch. He may as well be productive. The yearly report for the budget committee was past due. Grissom began reviewing the massive pile of expense sheets that were needed to compile the budget report. But his stomach was clamoring for attention. After half an hour of trying to ignore it, he got up and made his way to the vending machine.

As he came out of the small room with a granola bar in hand, he heard a familiar voice.

"Don't open that!" Sara was coming toward him, arms full of carryout bags and a cardboard tray of paper cups. "I brought breakfast." Grissom took the teetering cup tray from her when she got near enough.

"I knew you'd be living out of the vending machine until those flies hatch," said Sara indicating the granola bar. "I wanted to make sure you had at least one good meal today. Let's go eat in your office so you can watch them."

As they made their way back to the office, Grissom marveled at the way Sara could give him just what he needed. If he hadn't suspected he was falling in love with her before, he would have been convinced by her casual manner in bringing him breakfast, one thing they had shared together almost daily for a week now. . It had quickly become their normal routine away from work and he could already feel the comfort he derived from this even before they began. Grissom wondered if this was a good idea. He knew he would be distracted with Sara in his office eating. Even gestating blowflies didn't hold his attention next to Sara. He would insist on her leaving as soon as they finished. After all, just because he wasn't going to be getting any sleep didn't mean she shouldn't.

The meal began without the usual banter about what to order, which almost always ended with both of them ordering the same thing everyday. Sara had duplicated the orders, with the addition of a hamburger, explaining to Grissom that it was to substitute for a vending machine run later on.

They fell into the easy pattern of breakfast conversation, discussing the details of the case and how it might play out if they could just get a bit more evidence. The mention of an Ouija board found at Kass' house prompted a confession from Sara of attending a séance as a teenager. Her description of the teenage girls swooning and screaming while she rolled her eyes brought a grin to the whiskered face. He would love to have known Sara as a teenager. She was mature even then, it seems.

When Grissom looked at the clock, two hours had passed. He jumped up to check the pupae. The pupa cap on one had separated from the body and the fly had emerged, moving slowly around the container as it attempted to spread its wings.

Frustrated, Grissom turned to Sara. "You have to leave."

Surprised, Sara sat up straight in the chair. "I thought I'd keep you company for awhile, maybe help if you needed it."

Grissom shook his head. "NO. You're distracting me from my work. I need to focus on these flies. Leave." Turning to see the hurt look on her face, Grissom's voice softened. "Go home, Sara. Get some rest. I'll see you at shift."

As he watched Sara go out the door, Grissom made a mental promise to himself that this would not happen again.