A/N: unspokendream and icklebitodd, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
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Disclaimer: I do not own any part of CSI or its characters. That honor goes to the good folks over at CBS. For more detail on Matthew and Sara's life in foster care, check out QuoththeRaven's "The Life & Times of Sara Sidle." With her permission, I have begun to incorporate her interpretation of Sara's childhood into most of my stories.
Title: The Planetarium: Part 7
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"I don't know, Gil," Brass told his friend. "But if she reacted the way that you just described, I don't think that she should be allowed anywhere near this interview," he commented.
Grissom just nodded. He knew that Brass was right, and that Sara was on the verge of losing her professionalism. If she sat in on the interview, and interrupted because she felt upset, she was endangering the case. And neither Brass nor Grissom wanted that to happen.
As they were talking, Sara, her eyes still red and puffy from crying, rounded the corner. "Before you say anything," she told the two men, holding her hands up in the sign of surrender, "I don't want to sit in on the interview. I just want to watch from outside. If that's okay…" she trailed off.
Grissom threw Brass a look, but let him make the call. "Alright," Jim finally said. "But Sara, make sure you stay outside. Understood?" Sara nodded, as she saw Patrick and Lynette Sampson being led into one of the rooms. Patrick, walking at his mother's side, had his head down, his arms held firmly against his side. He definitely didn't look happy. "Sara, understood?" Brass repeated, noting her expression.
"Yes, I understand," Sara mumbled, as she walked over to observation room. Standing behind the one-way mirror, she sighed, as her supervisor and colleague entered the actual room. It was too bad that they hadn't sent Catherine in there rather than Grissom, because Patrick looked terrified… and Grissom wasn't the best person when it came to dealing with children. Neither was Brass, for that matter. Or sometimes, even Sara.
"Mrs. Sampson, thank you for bringing Patrick back here," Grissom began. "Hi, Patrick," he then said. Patrick didn't say anything… he just sucked his thumb, and stared at the floor.
"Yes, well, I don't know what he'll be able to tell you," Mrs. Sampson muttered. "He's been like this ever since… ever since his father…" she trailed off, taking a tissue from her purse and dabbing her eyes with it. "Well… you know."
Brass nodded. "But anything that he can tell us might shed some light on the situation."
"Patrick," Grissom tried again. "How is it that you decided to go to the planetarium on this particular day?" he asked. Sara just rolled her eyes. This was going to be great, she thought, as Patrick ignored him. "I mean… was it your idea? Or your father's? Was it a father-son day?"
This was getting them nowhere. Looking at Brass, Grissom sighed. Maybe they needed Sara, after all? But would she be able to handle an interrogation, after everything that had been going on? "Please, excuse me for a moment," he said, standing up, and leaving the room. Standing just beside Sara, he asked, "What do you think?"
"I think that… something is still going on with him," Sara admitted. "And…no offense, but I don't think that you or Brass will be able to get through to him…"
"I agree, Sara. We need you. But," he added, raising a finger in the air. "Do you think that you'll be okay going in there?" he asked, partially concerned for Sara's feelings, and partially concerned for the case itself.
Sara just nodded, as she followed her boss back into the room. "Mrs. Sampson?" Sara asked. "We met at the hospital earlier today," she said with a small smile. "How are you holding up?" she asked the woman, glancing over at Patrick, who was now intently watching Sara.
"We're… hanging in there," Mrs. Sampson replied. "My poor Patrick is upset, understandably, but…" she reached a hand over, and tried to ruffle her son's hair. Patrick, however, recoiled at her touch.
"Well, would you mind if I asked Patrick a couple of questions?" Sara quietly asked, once again noticing Patrick's reaction to his mother. His mother shook her head no, that she did not mind.
"Okay. Patrick, remember me?" Sara asked him with a smile, resting her hands in the middle of the table. Patrick slowly nodded his head up and down, still sucking his thumb. "Remember how you helped me in the hospital?" she then asked. "To start putting the puzzle together?" Patrick again nodded, as Grissom threw Brass a look. This was encouraging. At least he was responding to her questions. "Well… I need a little bit more help," she told him. "So that we can find the rest of the puzzle pieces, to figure out what happened to your father… okay?"
"Ye-yes…" Patrick said, momentarily taking his thumb out of his mouth.
"Good…" Sara told him, flashing him another small smile. "Okay. So… was today supposed to be a special day with your father, honey?"
Patrick nodded. "We…we go out once a week. Just the two of us…to breakfast or lunch, and somewhere special."
Sara smiled. "That sounds nice… where'd you go last weekend?"
"The museum," Patrick immediately told her. "I like the Sesame Street exhibit there."
"Me too," Sara grinned. Putting her hand over her mouth, she gave him a conspiratorial wink. "But don't tell anyone that I like Sesame Street, okay? Or they'll tease me," she explained. Patrick smiled. "So… who chose the planetarium this week?" she then asked. "Was it you?" Patrick shook his head no. "Your father, then?" Patrick again shook his head no, as Lynette Johnson shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Your…mother?" Patrick didn't say anything; he just put his thumb back in his mouth, and started sucking it.
Grissom looked at Sara, and then at Brass. They needed to get Mrs. Sampson out of the room, if they were going to continue to talk to Patrick about her. This particular line of questioning seemed to make Patrick uncomfortable, and if they were going to get anything out of him, they had to do it without his mother being present. "Mrs. Sampson," Grissom cleared his throat. "Can you join me in the hallway, please?"
Shaking her head no, she replied, "I want to stay with my son."
"Ma'am," Brass spoke up, very quietly, "We really need to speak to your son about things that he might not want to talk about in front of you. You'll just be in the hallway, and you can watch him through the window… it would really help us get to the bottom of your husband's murder," he told her.
Mrs. Sampson finally nodded, and followed Grissom out of the room. Sara, turning her attention back to Patrick, smiled. "So your mom suggested the planetarium?" she asked. "That's one of my favorite places in the whole city to go to, you know," she told him. Patrick merely nodded, shaking his head. "So… Patrick… tell me about your father…"
"I love him," he whispered, using the present tense of the word. "He p-pr-protects me against all of the monsters…"
Sara looked over at Brass. "Which monsters, honey?" she asked, reaching her hand out to him.
Brass gently rested a hand on Sara's arm, non-verbally telling her not to move out of her seat.
"The ones under my bed… and in my closet… and…" he trailed off, beginning to cry.
Sara, ignoring Brass's hand on her arm, waked around the table, and scooped Patrick up in her arms. "And which other ones?" she then asked him.
"My mother…"
Outside, Grissom looked at Lynette Sampson, who had gone pale. Poking his head out of the observation room, he signaled for two armed police officers to stand guard, just in case the woman decided to run. "I… I have never touched a hair on my son's head," she told Grissom. Grissom remained silent.
"What does she do to you, Patrick?" Sara asked, smoothing out his hair.
"Hits me… yells at me… kicks me…" he said with a hiccup, now fully crying. "For being bad…"
Sara threw a glance at Brass, telling him that she was okay. Brass merely watched Patrick and Sara. For whatever reason, the two had definitely bonded.
"Honey… did your mom ever do anything to your father?"
"She told him that she wanted to di-divorce him, and take me away," he sobbed. "I don't know what that 'divorce' means, but I don't want to live with her," he admitted to Sara, resting his head on her shoulder. "I don't…" he cried into the crook of her neck.
Sara merely nodded. "It's okay, honey. But… do you know what your father said to her, Patrick? Think hard…" If they had been shouting loud enough, it's possible that he had heard everything.
"Uh-huh," Patrick whispered. "He said, 'Over my dead body.'"
Patrick held onto Sara's neck tightly, shaking. "It's okay, honey," Sara said, rocking him back and forth, trying to hide the anger on her face. Had his mother actually killed his father, just to gain custody of him, with an impending divorce? If she suggested the planetarium, and… wanted Patrick badly enough… it was possible.
Brass nodded to Sara. They had enough to get a warrant for the Sampson's household, where they would search for anything that would tie Lynette Sampson to her husband's murder. "Good job, Patrick," he said before standing up. "And good job, Sara," he added, exiting the room and looking at Grissom in the observation room. "I'll get the warrant, you assemble your team," he told the man, before running off in search of a judge. And Child Protective Services will come get the boy… he sighed to himself, once more glancing through the observation window.
"Ma'am? Right this way," one of the officers said to Lynette Sampson, as he walked her down the hallway. "We're going to find you a nice place to wait until all of this is taken care of."
"What about my son?" she asked.
"He'll be fine," the officer replied.
Grissom, still in the observation room, looked through the glass. "You did good, Sara. You did good."
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TO BE CONTINUED