Los Angeles, Downtown Police Department.

"Miss Goatherd, tell us where your son is and you can go." Brass said as everyone in the room settled for the long haul.

Brushing her long curly hair back from her face, Miss Goatherd sighed. "I have no idea."

"According to report by the Briggs' babysitter, someone claiming to be you, collected your son last Sunday. If you do not have your son, then explain to me why someone would go to the trouble of impersonating you, faking an ID and taking a four month old baby."

"Like I said, I have no-"

Brass interrupted rather abruptly and sternly. "Listen, I don't give a crap about your personal life or whatever else you are hiding. I just want to find Anthony Blackwell so his family can stop worrying and rest in the knowledge that the boy is safe and on his way home."

"I am his family." She responded snidely. "I gave birth to him."

"Where is Anthony?" Brass asked.

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she gave a careless shrug. "Don't know."

"I'll ask again, and I'll keep asking until I get the answers I want to hear." He snapped.

"Miss Goatherd," Deputy Paul Hawkins sat forward to lean his arms on the steal tabletop. "Why are you in Los Angeles?"

She stared at him. "What'd you mean?"

"You live in San Francisco."

"So? I can travel if I want." Her back stiffened at the looks she was given by both officers. "What?"

"Ma'am, you reported your purse stolen." Deputy Paul stated questioningly. "You were in a parking lot."

"And? People get mugged all the time in those places." She sat back in her chair.

"Yes." Grissom spoke up from the back of the room. "There are actually many possible outcomes to any mugging. More often than not, the victim is left with some kind of evidence of an altercation."

Brass didn't take his eyes from the suspect. "You don't seem like the type of lady who would just let a lowlife take her purse willingly."

Scoffing at them, she brushed her ever falling hair out of the way. "I'm not stupid to go against a psycho with a knife."

"Perhaps," Grissom stood and walked towards the table. "But you haven't asked to speak to a sketch artist or given a description of the mugger."

"I was busy staring at the knife to notice his baby blues." She snarked.

Setting a copy of the purse snatching on the table, he slide it towards her. "How do you know he had blue eyes?"

She stared at him with her mouth open. Shaking her head, she said, "It was a figure of speech. Are you dense or somethin'?"

Brass stood and moved around the table to invoke some intimidation into the woman. "He's actually the smartest person in the room, so I'd start talking before he tells you what you had for breakfast just by looking at you."

"I told you everything I know and that's nothing." Glancing at the report, she tapped her long nails on the table. "What you trying to show me?"

Grissom removed his glasses and turned to walk towards the large mirror on the wall behind him. "How about I tell you what I'm thinking, Miss Goatherd."

"I'd listen carefully." Brass whispered close to her head as he passed by her chair. He settled into a corner and folded his arms over his chest.

Unperturbed, she smirked. "Go ahead."

Taking a deep breath, Grissom stared at his own reflection. "Forgive the gaps as the evidence is still being processed. Last Sunday, you contacted a friend who you knew would do whatever you asked. Whether for a price or something else, I don't know. In the time before Baby Blackwell was taken, your husbands house was broken into, which by the way, someone happened to leave some DNA on the door.

"Waiting, for I don't know what just yet, but I will. They left the house and drove to the Briggs home. Knowing your husband left your son in Richard and Sally Briggs custody until family was notified you realised that going there yourself might bring around too much attention, so you had someone else do it.

"With a fake ID and a friendly neighbour it was simple enough to slip the child from under everyone's noses." He turned slowly on his heel. "I don't know about the purse snatching details because it isn't my case, but you knew you would be the number one suspect. So I'm leaning towards you either did have your purse stolen, or you staged it to act as the innocent mother on the off chance of getting inside information on your son's case.

"What you didn't count on was suspicion being directed solely at you or my being here." He smirked darkly. "I have a personal interest in this case, so you'll be seeing a lot of me until Anthony Blackwell is safely in police custody."

Miss Goatherd stared wide-eyed and shocked.

"I guess my input was pointless." Deputy Paul mumbled good naturedly.

"Not so, Deputy." Grissom countered. "You are working the angle of the case which will help clarify what Miss Goatherd's motive is. Why is she here and what does she want?"

Brass raised both eyebrows, impressed. "The lab here has started processing the parking lot and Miss Goatherd's car. If there's anything there, we'll find it."

"The San Francisco Police have been notified." Deputy Paul told them, then looked at the silent woman sitting stiffly across the table from him. "When the warrant is approved, they will be searching your home and work place."


45 Minutes Later.

Las Vegas.

Skirting the desk quickly, Sara shot out the door and knocked over Catherine and Judy who were walking passed the doorway.

"Hey! You ok?" Catherine called out.

Slamming through the washroom door and pushing open a stall, Sara sank to her knees and just managed to pull her hair up before emptying her stomach in the bowl. Having not eaten much, what was actually there was now being purged.

Judy and Catherine had followed at post haste when she came hurtling out of the office. Once inside the washroom, Judy grabbed some paper towels and soaked them, while Catherine emptied the coffee cup she had been holding, washed and filled it with water.

Blindly flushing the toilet with a weak hand, Sara pushed herself up and slunk towards the sinks. She bent low and leaned on both hands against the counter as Judy pressed the wet towels to the back of her neck and Catherine shoved the cup under her nose.

"Drink some water and spit it out." Catherine instructed.

Sagging lower after swishing a gulp of water, she spat the foul taste down the drain. Refilling the cup and rinsing it better than Catherine had, she swallowed water that wasn't faintly coffee tainted.

Judy and Catherine shared a questioning look over her head. Both shrugged and turned their attentions back to Sara.


10 Minutes Later.

Easing her tired body onto one of the couches in the break room, Sara sighed and relaxed. Her stomach was settling down and she felt much better. Given that she was feeling fine before the rebellion, she didn't let her guard down in case she needed to bolt again.

"Here." Judy offered a clean glass filled to the top with orange juice. "It'll help balance out the queasiness."

Staring at the short woman for a second, Sara nodded her thanks as she took the glass. If she had any queasiness she might have made some kind of comment, but decided to keep quiet.


Los Angeles, Downtown Police Department.

Turning sideways to cross her legs at the knees, Miss Goatherd tried to relax. "What other accusations have you got?"

Brass chuckled. "Accusations?" He shook his head and leaned across the table. "These are theories based on the evidence."

A breath puffed out in barely disguised relief. "Then what am I still doing here?"

"The evidence isn't all here yet. So I'd make yourself comfortable."

She didn't like the idea of being trapped in the same room with these guys any longer than she had to. "Are you going to keep me here until everything gets here?" At their silent looks, she balked. "You can't be serious! This is harassment!"

"Miss Goatherd, you are a suspect in a kidnapping." Deputy Paul reminded her.

"Therefore, you aren't going anywhere for a while." Brass concluded.

Grissom's cell phone rang. "Excuse me." He stood and left the room.

"Where's he going?" She asked quickly as the door closed.

Brass shrugged. "Probably some vital evidence." He looked at the Deputy beside him.


To Be Continued.