Chapter XV

Racing to the Scene

All night they waited, in fear and anticipation. The killer was accelerating, killing faster then before, losing control...and all they could do was wait for the next victim to be found. It was infuriating, and slow...it was a maddening test of patience and skill.

Sara poured over the evidence,trying to get it to reveal something...that little something that could break the case...that would give them a lead... The evidence, however, was silent, it gave her no ideas, no leads to follow.

The call came at seven in the morning. Increased helicopter patrols of the desert had revealed a body only half a mile away from where Taylor's had been found.


Catherine chewed her lip. The case of the year...versus her daughter. It was not the first time she'd had to chose between work and her personal life...she didn't like it...not one bit. It wasn't a choice she was supposed to have to make, but here she was again, making it...again.

Sara saw her standing there, in the hall, staring down at the cellphone in her hand. Sara checked her watch, it was ten after seven...Catherine should have left at least half an hour before. She stepped right in front of the other woman. "Hey Catherine." The other woman looked up.


Sara stood right in her path. "What?" She didn't bother to hide her annoyance. Sara didn't have a child at home...didn't have a life at all. They couldn't all be workaholics. "Don't you have to take Lindsey to school? If you go now, I bet you can just make it." Catherine didn't know how Sara knew when Lindsey was due at school, and wouldn't wonder about it until later. "Did I ask for your input, Sidle?" Sara blinked, "I'm just trying to help, Catherine." Catherine's blue eyes narrowed. "You are the last person I would ask for help with my daughter." Though Sara's face was covered in shadows, Catherine saw the wince cross her face...and the realization came along with a shot of guilt and horror...she'd hurt Sara...again.

Catherine instantly regretted her words. "Sara...I..." Sara held up a hand and turned her back...walking away. Sara's voice was steely as it floated back to her. "Forget I said anything."

Catherine stood in the hallway, mouth agape. "Shit."


Some people ran through their problems, others let out a cathartic scream...Sara Sidle worked. She threw herself into cases, she haunted the labs, chasing leads until the case was closed, she collapsed from exhaustion or she was calm again, whichever came first. At the moment, she could not bury herself in evidence...so she fell back on an old habit. As soon as she passed the city limits and hit the open desert, she pushed the Tahoe's accelerator to the floor. The SUV bucked forwards, breaking the speed limits, and Sara gripped the wheel...The speed and power of the machine she controlled roared through her, adrenaline replacing her rage. It momentarily took her back to her senior year of high school when she'd ripped around the scenic curves of California's most famous stretch of road, Highway 1 or the Pacific Coast Highway, with little regard for law or safety...in a rickety, rusty death trap of a used car. Times were different now, she was in an air conditioned SUV in the middle of the Nevada desert, miles away from the Ocean that she'd grown up by...but the effect was still the same, by the time she saw blue lights she was calm, ready to work again.


Sofia looked up from the body. A black blur kicking up dust and dirt was speeding toward them. Sofia stared at it, shielding her eyes against the sun. "Maniac! They've got to be doing a hundred." Greg looked up from the body as well. "Hey Warrick, Sara's here!" Sure enough, the SUV was slowing down and coming to a stop. Sofia blinked, "Is she insane?" Greg dusted grit off of his pants, "Nope, she's just pissed. Her and Catherine probably went at it again." Sofia raised one brow..."Okay." Both she and Warrick were scowling.


Warrick looked up from the fibers he was collecting. Sara stepped out of her SUV, looking completely calm and collected...in other words, her game-face was on. She went around and grabbed her kit from the back seat. She ducked under the tape and came towards them. "Tell me something good, Warrick." He lowered his sunglasses a fraction. "Well, NASCAR called for you." She rolled her eyes. "About the case." Her voice was dripping sarcasm, but a small grin worked it's way to her face.

He sighed, "Vic is a Caucasian female, approximately seventy years of age. No apparent COD, but we've got defensive bruisings and ligature marks." They walked across the scene together, "No tire tracks this time, but boot prints look to be a match, we've got fibers and hairs...could be the same guy...he's getting sloppy." Sara squinted at the scene in the mid morning sun. "Good. Maybe we will finally be able to get this guy..."

Author's Note: Was that all really necessary? Yeah...Important character development stuff...Though I would like to say now, the fast driving thing...that's how I've totaled two cars and blew the engine on one...So, uh don't try that at home...cause car wrecks suck...they really really do.