Chapter Fifteen
Sara barely noticed the changing scenery as the limo drove back towards the city. Her eyes had been glued to the mini bar and its impressive amount of liquor. She wasn't an alcoholic but once or twice, she did need its mind-numbing solace. This was a good time as any.
But she was expected back at work and she knew better than to have herself reeking of scotch.
If she was honest with herself, Sara didn't exactly know how to feel. Her earlier outburst had helped release all that pent up pain. But it didn't really lessen it. Instead, the sorrow had drained off all life energy from her and left her with this unexplainable void inside. And how can one let out something that's not even there? How can one express emptiness?
Part of the reason for her ability to still keep herself together was the fact that she found the whole situation unbelievable. She had gotten so used to the blonde's presence, first as colleague, then as a friend and then as a lover, that her mind just couldn't register the truth that she wasn't going to see her again. She half expected Catherine to reappear from nowhere with a 'Tada!'. She had already started to look for signs that what she was going through wasn't reality but a dream. Her biggest argument was Sean Sidle and his reappearance in her life.
Two equally improbable and questionable events, occurring at the same time, are the stuff that dreams are made out of, right? RIGHT?
But deep down, Sara knew all this was true. The explosion site she had only twelve hours ago processed was true. The burnt items soaked in blood were true. The victims, now reduced to nothing but masses of dismembered flesh and ash, were all true. The DNA comparison, placing Catherine at the scene, was also true.
Sara hadn't been aware that the postmodern architecture of the LV Crime Lab now stood in front, until she felt the limo go stationary.
"Ma'am?" She heard Victor's deeply accented voice as he opened the door for her.
"Thank you." She murmured without looking at him. The blazing heat of the morning, after the coolness of the limo, felt harsh. Despite that, Sara looked up at the sky. The clouds of the previous day had faded to give way to the sun. She didn't believe in omens, good or otherwise. But her parents, with their deeply ingrained hippie influence, used to have all kinds of tarot card readers, fortune tellers and shamans visit them. For the first time in her life, Sara wished that she would have learnt some of what they had said. She had the feeling that the weather was telling her something… something she couldn't interpret.
When Catherine opened her eyes, she frowned at the unfamiliarity of the ceiling staring down at her. She would have risen up in one quick, lithe movement, if she hadn't found her wrists and ankles restrained.
"What the!" Her head spun from side to side, not quite comprehending where she was or why she was tied to the bed.
"Relax, Ms. Willows." A smooth, female voice spoke.
Catherine turned to face the speaker. The room was lit by a single floor lamp that seemed to provide more shadows than light. In one of those obscurities, she could make out the faint silhouette of a person.
"Who are you?" Her voice came out rusty.
"My name or identity is of no importance." She saw the figure move a little. "How are you feeling? Do you have any headaches? Lightheadedness? Pain?"
"Who are you? Why am I here?" Catherine demanded to know.
"As I said earlier, my identity is not important. As for the second one, it will be answered in due time."
"Just answer my fucking question, bitch!"
There was silence. Catherine briefly wondered if the woman had left. Panic rose in her throat. She didn't want to be left alone, all tied up and helpless.
"Ms. Willows, I understand your anger, I truly do." The woman actually sounded sincere. "But you must take my word that we mean you no harm."
"Oh, it's real easy to do that when I'm tied up in a strange place." Catherine retorted.
"You have been confined for your own safety. Our only wish is to protect you."
"From what?"
Another silence. Catherine could now see a bit more clearly as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The person she was talking to was slightly built. She could make out long, thick hair. The heavy quietness of the room was punctuated by the tapping of boots on the floor.
"Someone has been trying to kill you. If we hadn't brought you here, they would have succeeded." The woman answered.
"Kill me?" Catherine scoffed. "That's ridiculous."
"I assure you, it's not."
Suddenly, Catherine gasped. "Lindsay! Where's my daughter? Where's Lindsay?"
"She's safe and unharmed."
"I want to see her!"
Catherine saw the person tilt her head. "That wouldn't be advisable, neither for you nor for your daughter. Her safety lies in staying away from you."
"I want to see her!"
"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation." And then without warning, the mysterious figure stepped into the light. Catherine was rendered speechless for a while. She didn't quite know whom she had expected, but she surely didn't expect a young girl who appeared barely out of her teens. Bright grey eyes bore right through her.
"Ms. Willows, your life had been saved with an enormous amount of difficulty. But if your killer learns that you are alive, he or she would stop at nothing to try again. You will be endangering yourself and of those around you."
"Who wants to kill me?" Catherine found her throat dry.
The woman… girl moved back. She gave a small shrug but didn't answer.
"So, everyone thinks I'm dead?"
"Yes."
"But…"
The girl waved her hand to cut her off. "This room is fully equipped to meet your needs. There is a fridge, stocked with bottled water, milk and juice. There are TV, DVD players and some movie collections for you to entertain yourself with. We even have some books. There is a phone and you need to dial #1 if you want to speak with me. The phone is useless otherwise. The bathroom is clean and functional. You'll be provided with breakfast, lunch and dinner. You can obviously make requests, if you need something. Just call me. You won't be restrained and are free to use this room as you please. Any questions?"
"I'm going to be a well-fed, well-kept, hostage?" Catherine laughed bitterly.
"You are not a hostage but a guest with maximum protection." The girl replied impassively.
"I feel honored."
She raised an eyebrow over Catherine's sarcasm but didn't comment. "I'm going to sedate you now. The next time you wake up, you will find your hands free and food waiting for you. Is there anything in particular that you wish to have?"
Catherine shook her head. "No." Before she knew what was happening, the girl had expertly injected her. Immediately, she felt the effects of whatever she had been given. She struggled to keep her eyes open. She needed information and despite the muddling in her brain, she knew it was important to get them. But the sedative had started to work its way into her brain cells and the last thing she saw before drifting off to sleep was a radiant smile.
Greg had contacts all over the lab. From the very janitor who mopped the floors clean to the secretaries who he tirelessly flirted with to the Director himself, he knew the ins and outs of people's lives through common gossip. No news was "new" to him. So, it didn't take him too long to be informed that Sara was going to be questioned, not as a CSI but as a suspect.
His first reaction was disbelief. It was quickly followed by anger. Sara was one of his dearest friends and he knew how much she was hurting at that particular moment. Greg, who had rarely experienced bad temper, stormed into Grissom's office. He was surprised to find Warrick, Nick and Sofia already there.
"Greg?" Sofia turned towards him. "What are you doing here?"
"I suppose I'm the only who was left in the dark." Greg hissed. "When were you guys going to tell me?"
"There's nothing to tell, Greg." Grissom rubbed his eyes wearily. "Sara is going to undergo some standard interrogation."
"And the reason why these three are standing here is just that."
"Greg…" Warrick began but didn't know how to continue. When Grissom had told him about the evidence implicating Sara, he had been too shocked to even think coherently.
"Do you guys really need to question Sara? Do you doubt her innocence?" Greg spat.
"It's not about believing in her innocence, Greg." Nick had his eyes downcast, as if afraid to look into anything. "It's about the evidence and what it says."
"The evidence could be wrong!" Immediately, Greg realized what he had just said. Doubting the reliability of the evidence in front of his CSI colleagues was akin to committing a serious blasphemy.
"Look." He continued, more calmly. "I just don't think she should be questioned at a time like this. Did you guys forget how devastated she was earlier? She fainted, for Chrissake!"
"Greg is right." Warrick spoke. "I don't think it is a good idea to ask her these questions now, Gris. She's hanging on a thin thread of sanity out here. She lost Cath..." His voice collapsed and he had to swallow a couple of times to resume. "Sara's not up to this."
"Don't you think I know that?" Grissom returned defensively.
"It's not our call anymore." Nick voiced in defeat. "Harper's officially in charge of the case. We all question the victim's immediate relatives, disregarding the impact on them. If we show preferential treatment to Sara, it won't look good on us."
This time Greg truly lost his temper. "Won't look good on us? What the hell kind of lame reason is that, Nick? She's our friend, your friend! We are talking about Sara here, not just anyone! I don't care if we give her preferential treatment."
"You think I don't feel for Sara?" Nick shouted.
"Obviously, not enough."
Nick clenched his jaw. "But we don't have a choice!"
"Sure, we have a choice."
Everyone froze at Sofia's unexpected words. Grissom looked up to stare at her. "What do you mean?"
But before Sofia got a chance to reply, Arnold Harper presented himself at the door.
"All of you are together, good." His smile was falsely benevolent. "Sara Sidle is here. It would be nice if you would come and witness the interrogation. She might need some… moral support."
Thank You for all the reviews! My weekend was good, except for some rough weather.
I feel elated to get to write about Catherine again! It was so depressing without her... I'm sure all of you will agree.
