Chapter Thirty Two

There were times when Lindsay, like any other teenager with emerging self-identity issues, actively rebelled against her mother. Swallowed curses, muttered complaints, teary pouts, long periods of silent treatments and slammed doors were just some of the common weekly occurrences. If the arrival of Sara had somewhat mellowed the adolescent contempt, it had also brought with itself a new problem. In her kindergarten years, the kids snickered behind her back and called her the daughter of a stripper. None of the kids, including her, knew what it really meant, but their developing minds recognized the insult. Then her Mom had her transferred into a private school. Things were getting better until that devastating night when her father died. Her preppy, old-money classmates who used to find it "cool that your Mom's a cop", now detested her because they found out her Dad was a good-for-nothing, philandering junkie. Though, with time those gossips faded away too.

But when Sara moved into their house, she faced a new challenge. At first, it started with malicious whispers and then extended into open mockery. Those she could handle, as she had been doing for so many years. But when, for the first time, her teachers joined the bandwagon, Lindsay felt alone.

"Lindsay, it has come to our attention that your mother… well, that things are not quite alright in your family." Her Math teacher, Mrs. Biggs murmured. In other words, she wanted to say, "I've come to know that your Mom's a dyke."

"Things are perfectly cool." Lindsay defied with her strong Willows air.

"So, how's your Mom and her bitch?" Jake Thompson, the school heartthrob taunted.

"Hey Lindz, did you ever kiss a girl?"

"Yo Lindz, how about a threesome?"

"I've always wondered why she's never had a boyfriend."

"She doesn't strike as the butch type to me." Maria, the head cheerleader frowned.

"Well, didn't you hear of a lipstick lesbian?"

Lindsay never told her mother about the troubles in school. She hurt inside and sometimes she wished that her family was like any other family in school – a Dad, a Mom, a loud-mouth brother and maybe a dog.

And then she'll see how happy her mother is and how changed everything at home was becoming. But more than anything, she realized how complete she felt. Sara, whom she adored as her best friend, made everything wonderful and that was when Lindsay understood that it didn't matter what her narrow-minded classmates and teachers thought. This was her family and it couldn't be wrong when it felt so right.

Lindsay wondered if it was because of this goodwill that she had been granted the biggest of miracles.

She didn't know where Uncle Grissom wanted her to go, but she didn't ask. Recently, everyday seemed to fade into each other without her being aware. There were plenty of condolences and nice words passed on to her daily, but she had soon gotten to a point where they didn't affect her at all. All she wanted was to stay with Sara and she was looking forward to when she could do that permanently.

However, she had become slightly concerned when Uncle Grissom led her into the hospital. She couldn't – didn't want to – imagine anything worse than what had already happened.

That is why when she saw Sara lying on the bed, in an obviously hurt state, Lindsay found her world breaking around her. She was so focused on the brunette that she failed to pay heed to the woman beside.

"Lindsay?"

The voice sounded so familiar that she knew she had already begun to hear things.

"Lindsay?" Louder, this time.

She gave a quick glance sideways and then back to Sara only to double back.

"Mom!"

"Lindsay, honey?" Catherine slowly knelt down, holding herself with considerable effort from taking her daughter in her arms.

"Mom!"

"Honey, say something."

Lindsay realized that she had been shouting only in her mind, but her tongue had remained mute. She swallowed hard. "Mom?"

Catherine smiled. "Lindsay, sweetie."

"Mom, is it you? Is it really you?"

"It is, Lindz."

"This is not a joke, right?" The girl's big eyes clouded over. "Coz I won't be able to handle it. Tell me the truth. Are you my Mom?"

Catherine took Lindsay's hand and placed it near to her heart. "Lindz, it's your Mom. It's me."

"How…" She began, not sure which question to ask. There were so many hows running through her mind.

"Later, sweetie." Catherine linked her fingers through her daughter's hair and noticed how limp it had gotten. She also took note of the sallow complexion and dark circles. Her heart wrenched as she tried to imagine the torture her Lindsay must have endured.

"You are back? You are here? I can't believe this." Lindsay began to shiver, both from overwhelming joy and a sense of fear that this might all be a dream.

"I know and I promise I'll explain everything to you."

The young girl lifted her hand and ran her fingers tentatively across Catherine's face. She half waited for the illusion to disappear beneath her probing touch. But when all she encountered were warm flesh and the familiar feel of her mother, the blissful reality settled in. In an instant, she threw her arms around the woman she thought she had lost forever.

"Mom, I'll do my homework on time and I won't watch TV during weeknights. I'll not pester you for new clothes and definitely not for Hilary Duff's latest album. I'll clean my room whenever you ask me to and I'll tear up those posters you hate so much. I'll never talk back to you and I'll always listen to whatever you have to say." Lindsay choked back a sob. "But, please, don't ever leave me again."

Catherine kissed the top of her daughter's head. "Honey, I love you. And don't you worry about that poster. I know I say it's hideous, but Orlando Bloom is kinda cute."


Sara watched as mother and daughter cherished this reunion. She could barely conceal her own happiness and had it not been for the still lingering ache in her torso, she would have ripped apart all the various tubes and rushed to her girls.

Instead she took a moment to try and critically analyze the situation. From what she had gathered through a brief conversation with Catherine, her kidnappers had kept her in relative comfort. Sara couldn't really understand why someone would go to elaborate lengths to keep Catherine hidden while proclaiming her dead to the world. Money didn't seem to be the obvious motive and neither did harming Catherine in any way.

Just as she was ruminating, Grissom walked in. She noticed, for the first time since the whole calamity started, how changed he looked. His face had gone gaunt and the already grayed hair was now liberally snowed. A decade seemed to have been added upon him. He smiled when he saw Catherine with Lindsay and it took off some of the strain from his features. The smile quickly disappeared when he walked towards her. Those intellectual eyes were dead serious.

"How are you feeling?" He asked Sara.

"Better." She croaked out.

"I could cheerfully throttle that bastard who did this to you."

"Grissom, I'm fine." She laid a hand on his arm. "Did you find anything from him?"

"He tried to plead out to Sofia, but the DA has no sympathy for him and neither will the Judge. Though, we did manage to get some information."

"What?" She noticed how his eyes were evading hers.

"He told us a name."

"A name?"

"I did some background search on the man and so did Brass. Brass even spoke to some of his contacts in the gang world and…"

"Grissom, who's it?"

He sighed. "Sean Sidle."

Sara was surprised that she wasn't surprised. Sure, she's had a vague suspicion. That was why she had been out there that day. But she hadn't really wanted to believe that her own brother could be involved. However, now she realized that somewhere inside, she did believe.

She gulped down a lump. "So, what are we doing about him?"

"Right now, we just have Rocky's testimony and no evidence to back up. In court and with Rocky's rep, it won't go too far. But we are keeping tracks on the guy. Trouble is we don't have anything about him other than a forty year old birth certificate."

"I know where he lives." Sara stated passively.

"What?" Grissom moved back in shock. "You've been in contact with him? For how long?"

"Around the time that Catherine… that we thought she died."

He pinched his forehead to try and numb the headache. "Why didn't you tell anyone about it?"

"He was just a brother trying to get in touch with his sister." She grimaced. "Or so I thought. I never made the connection. There was no reason to."

"No, you are right." Grissom took out his pager. "We'll have Brass get the man for some questioning. We might not get a warrant but an address will give us a point to start."


Sofia took in the affluence of the neighborhood with disdain. This was a part of the city that housed the rich, the famous and the known corrupted. The problem was that their wealth was as much for display as for greasing. Nobody touched them. They were beyond the limits of the law enforcement.

Sean Sidle, registered as Sheridan Hastings, owned the property that was easily in the 95th percentile of the upscale estates in the region. She recognized the Moorish motifs in the architecture and the neatly planted palms that gave the place a Mediterranean aura. The sculpted nudes, their genitals exposed for all to see, appeared to smirk at the approaching officers.

Sofia felt the reassurance of her gun slung by the hip. She couldn't appear threatening, especially not without a legal warrant. But it always felt good to know that her weapon wasn't far from reach.

A junior officer pressed the doorbell and rapped the brass knocker. They could hear the noise echo inside. After the third unsuccessful try, Sofia neared closer to the door.

"Mr. Hastings?" She shouted. There was no reply.

"Great. He's not home."

"Maybe we should have set up an appointment." A female officer, known for her strange sarcasm, remarked.

The uniforms were just about to return to their vehicles when they heard a soft, but unmistakable, thud from inside.

"Think it's the cat?" The same woman asked.

Sofia's eyes darted right and left before she went back to the front door. She knocked again and this time yelled aloud. "Mr. Hastings, are you there? This is the LVPD. Please open the door."

The only reply was a weak groan from inside.

"You think the bastard's got someone there with him?"

"We are full within our rights to conduct a rescue, right?"

"If we find something… or someone… in there. Yeah."

"Let's get in." Sofia instructed, after calculating the risks.

For an expensive house, the door was remarkably weak. The officers broke through it without much effort. Guns leveled ahead and senses sharpened, Sofia led her team through the plush foyer.

"Grant, you take the basement. Miree, downstairs. I'll go up." Sofia whispered.

Her feet sank into the inches thick carpet as she proceeded her way up the spiraling staircase. The smell of crushed Eucalyptus greeted her nostrils, but along with it was also the stench of something gruesome. Of something evil.

She noticed the pristine condition in which everything was arranged. Not a single speck of dust rested upon the several-thousand-dollar worth of artifacts.

The master bedroom had the magnificent exoticism of a Sheikh's harem. It was one huge area. An expansive bed, sheathed in Oriental silk, adorned the middle. Chaise lounges were comfortably snug atop Persian rugs. Torches, instead of conventional lamps, provided illumination. Though, unlike its ancient counterparts, these were fuelled by electricity. Tapestries, regal emblems painted or stitched on them, hung heavily from the walls. The fragrance of the Eucalyptus now had to battle with various other enticing spicy aromas.

Sofia was so caught by the breathtaking beauty of the place that she momentarily didn't notice the blood stains. It was only when her glance moved downwards that she saw the ugly spatter across the otherwise spotless beige carpet.

Following its trail, she went towards the bathroom. The air was getting heavier with the coppery taste of bleeding and she went back into her investigative mode.

Nothing, however, prepared her for the sight. Her fingers almost slackened its grip on the gun when she saw the badly mutilated corpse lying on the tiled floor. The neck was snapped to a forty five degree angle. Blood had already oozed out from the various slashed wounds on the naked body. The eyes were wide open, as if her killer had forced her to witness the horror of what was happening before mercifully ending her life.

Sofia knelt by the body, taking care to not disturb the scene but also feeling a need to shut those dead eyes.

Her trance was broken when she heard another muffled sound. She spun around abruptly, trying to gather any presence in the room. Teeth clenched and every muscle prepared, she hoisted herself up.

"Who's there? This is the LVPD! Show yourself!"

Silence.

"I know you are here. Come out!"

A small sob.

Sofia cocked her head and looked towards the bed. She cautiously walked towards it and with one fluid movement she bent under and lifted the sheets.

"What the f- !" She exclaimed. A woman was snuck inside the cramped space. She was trembling as hard as a leaf in a storm.

"Hey, I'm Detective Curtis." Sofia reached out her hand. "You can come out."

"No, no, he's there. He'll find me. He'll kill me." Those eyes were completely glazed from fear.

"Nobody's here. It's just me." Sofia gestured with her hands again. "I'm here to help you. Nothing's going to happen to you."

"Sean. Sean. He'll find me. He'll kill me." The woman repeated in a chant.

Sofia glided her lean frame through the space. "I'm the police and I'm going to protect you. We'll find Sean so that he can never harm you again. You trust me, okay? Come, it's going to be alright."

"Y-you are the police? You'll help me? You won't let him kill me?" The woman questioned, hopefully.

"I won't."

"You promise?"

Sofia let her fingers touch the woman's cheek. Surprisingly, she didn't flinch. "I promise."

Reassured by the blonde detective's words and soothing touch, Carmel slowly crept out of her hiding. As soon as she appeared in the open, fright made her latch on to the woman, as if reaching out for a lifeboat.

"Hey, you are safe. Nothing will happen, alright?" Sofia soothed her still quivering form.

Carmel buried her face into the woman's shoulders and let the tears and soul-wracking cries escape her.


I know you hate me for the late update. My prodigal muse has returned and the following chapters will be much regular, I promise :) Meanwhile, thanks for sticking to it and reading!