Chapter Fourteen
Sara felt slightly queasy as she made her way towards Catherine's office. She had searched for Lindsay in the visitor's lounge and the cafeteria but to no avail. This was the only other place she could think of.
She leant against the wall to steady herself. Sara knew the corridor like the back of her hand, from every single potted plant to the paint on the walls. Over the years, she had made countless trips down this lane to eventually end up at Catherine's door. Sometimes it was for work and sometimes to spend some time with her lover.
And never had Sara imagined feeling this dread she was feeling right then. Catherine's death would be on the minds of everyone for months to come. But she knew that with the passage of time, the blonde CSI would become another distant memory. Someone else would be promoted to her position and would possibly occupy her office. But for Sara, nothing in the Crime Lab would ever be the same again.
She pressed a hand against her stomach to stop the cold feeling inside. Sara wondered if she would ever be able to get over what happened. She still held an irrational hope that this was one of her past nightmares from which she would wake up, cuddled in Catherine's arms.
"Ms. Sidle?"
Sara turned and saw one of the lab techs calling her.
"Yeah?"
"There's someone here asking for you. He's by the front desk."
She frowned. She couldn't think of anyone who would give her a personal visit at her workplace.
Debating between carrying on with her search for Lindsay and addressing whoever was waiting for her, Sara settled for the latter. In all honesty, she didn't think she was prepared to talk to the young Willows yet.
When Sara approached the entrance lobby, she found a man, well into his forties, waiting. Since there wasn't any other non-worker in the vicinity, she had to assume that he was the guy who had called for her. He had on tweeds and a pair of khaki slacks. His hair was raven black and a fancy stubble covered his lower jaw. There was something about his face that seemed really familiar to her but she couldn't quite place it. It was only when he turned and his eyes met hers that she recognized him.
"Sean." She thought she had only whispered but the smile on his face indicated he had heard her.
"Hey sis."
"What are you doing here?" She gave him a dazed look.
"I was in the neighborhood." He joked. When he saw that she hadn't smiled, he shrugged. "I looked you up. It brought me here."
Sara became aware of people staring at her. Much as she found herself incapable of coherent thoughts at that instant, she knew that she couldn't carry on a private conversation within everyone's full earshot
"Sean, this is really not a good time." She mumbled.
"I know." He gently moved towards her. "That's why I'm here. I figured you might need some family."
Sara stopped herself from retorting that her family was the last thing she needed at the moment.
"What are you doing here?" She repeated her question.
"Let's go somewhere and have some coffee, shall we? There's a lot to catch up."
Sara hesitated. Here was a brother who had re-emerged in her life after a hiatus of twenty years. And he comes right at the moment when she is undergoing a major emotional turmoil. She didn't know what to think. She wondered if this deliberately unfunny comedy would end anytime soon.
"Sara?" His brows knit in worry. "Are you ok? If you want… I could contact you later…"
A little conversation with Sean wouldn't hurt. I doubt there's anything left to go wrong – Shaking her head, she told him, "You go ahead. I'll sign off for a short break and then we can talk."
"Where are we?" Sara inquired. The limo they sat in had swerved onto a cobblestone driveway with palm trees lining both its sides. From amidst their canopy, Sara could make out the outline of what looked like a villa.
"This is my residence." Sean pulled out a tiny microphone embedded into the roof of the limo. "Aprire il portello" He murmured and immediately, Sara saw the massive gates swing inwards to allow them to pass.
Liveried servants awaited their arrival. A tanned young man held out a hand for Sara, which she took to ease out of the vehicle. She saw gardens extending from both sides of the main path before disappearing round the corner. She could hear the soft gushing sounds from three fountains with matching mermaids and dancing dolphins.
"I'll give you an extensive tour later." Sean remarked on seeing her interest in the surroundings. "My family's waiting inside."
Sara frowned. Sean hadn't mentioned a family. She had thought she was going to have a conversation with her brother in private. Suddenly, she wasn't all too sure she should be there.
Oblivious to her discomfort, Sean confidently strode through an oak-paneled doorway. Sara had no other choice but to follow him. She dug her hands deep into the back pockets of her jeans.
She had been into houses like this several times during investigations. The rich usually had reasons to kill and be killed. But there was something different about being a guest to such a place. If she thought the outside was mystifying, she was positively awestruck when she emerged into the interiors. The whole place was bathed in a kind of surreal amber hue. High arched windows, with yellow stained glass, let in an interesting mosaic of light. Bronze statues stood tastefully on carved pillars. Pottery painted in Native Indian motifs gleamed with radiance. Aesthetic pieces of art adorned the walls. She wobbled slightly as her feet sank into the very thick, Oriental carpet. The helical staircase was made of burgundy hardwood on which rested a cream-colored rug.
Standing on the staircase and leaning against the polished banister was a young girl around Lindsay's age. The sight of her stopped Sara in mid-stride.
The girl's face had eerily reminded her of her mother.
" Lena, come and say hello to your Aunt Sara." Sean wrapped his right hand around the girl. "Sara, this is my daughter, Lena."
"Hi Lena." Sara hoped she sounded warm enough. The grandeur of the place and the girl's resemblance to Laura Sidle were all too dumbfounding.
"You must be Sara." Sara saw an older woman step down. Her olive complexion, strong cheekbones and jet black hair bore the mark of a Mediterranean heritage. "I'm Carmel, Lena's mother."
Sara managed a smile for their benefit. "This is a beautiful place."
Carmel beamed proudly. "I'm an interior decorator and Sean here has an excellent taste in art. That is how we met, actually."
Sean tsked. "Now, now, Carmel, we don't need to bore Sara with the mundane details of our romance. Ask Dorothy to lay out tea for us on the terrace, will you?"
Carmel nodded, still smiling and disappeared up the stairs. In that short exchange, Sara knew everything about the couple. Carmel was the beautiful trophy wife and Sean was the dominating voice in the relationship.
The anxious feeling she had ever since she had slid into the limo, returned with full force. Something was definitely not right about the place.
Just then the sound of her pager shook her away from her doubts. She took it out and read the display. It was Grissom asking for her to return back to the lab. Even though, she could have been excused for a few more hours, she didn't mind attending to it. Sara wanted to get out of this museum-like house as soon as possible.
"Problem?"
"Err…" She hesitated. "Not really. I just got called in for an emergency."
Sean's face had darkened. "Surely, they can spare you. Has the LVPD lost every slice of sensitivity?"
"I'm sure it's very important. Grissom would never have called for me otherwise." Sara turned towards Lena and found it odd that the girl hadn't moved a single facial muscle since she had seen her. "It was nice meeting you Lena."
"Don't worry Lena, Aunt Sara will be coming back… very soon. And then we'll all have a little family chat…" A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Without any interruption."
Like magic, one of Sean's uniformed servants appeared. He spoke in rapid Italian to the man before looking at Sara.
"Victor here will assist you back to your headquarters."
"Give me your number in case I need to contact you." Sara said.
He tilted his head. "That won't be necessary. I'll call you."
She was both offended and a little worried by the nonchalant way he tried to assert his authority over everything. But she didn't have the energy to take him up on that. She simply nodded and asked him to tell her goodbye to Carmel.
Sean dropped some of the ash from his cigar onto the marbled floor. From the height of his terrace, he could watch the limo careen off into the distance. Faint strains of piano music floated from inside.
The meeting with his sister hadn't gone as he expected. However, he was far from hurried. There would be other opportunities. She was going to need his support very soon. He had made sure of that.
He took out his cellphone and dialed a number he knew by heart.
"Hello?" A thick voice answered on the other end.
"How's she?" Sean questioned, without preamble.
"She's still asleep, just like you wanted."
"Good. Have you arranged the room the way I asked you to?"
"Yes boss. The room has all five star luxuries." Sean caught a trace of sourness in the voice.
"Remember, she has to be absolutely comfortable." He casually blew a ringlet of smoke. "Next time she awakens, don't sedate her. Give her something to eat. Be careful to not show your face and make sure that she's always watched. The woman may seem fragile but she's extremely experienced. If she struggles a lot, give her small doses of Diazepam. Use force if necessary, but don't hurt her. You understand me?"
"Yes boss." The man muttered.
Sean inhaled the tanginess of the tobacco and smiled. Catherine Willows' supposed death was just going to be the beginning of his sister's problems.
Do I hear a "Yay" from the crowd? And on this (relatively) positive note, I'm leaving for my weekend trip. Here's wishing all my fellow Canadians, a Happy Canada Day and to those of you south of the border, a Happy Fourth of July. And to the rest, a Happy Weekend :D
Oh, but please keep reviewing in the meantime... :)
P.S. Sorry for those who get bored with my elaborate descriptions, sometimes. I get really carried away when I have to describe architecture or art.
