Chapter Thirty Five

The California State Mental Facility wore a distinct Gothic architecture. The East Wing seemed newly renovated, but even its glossy exterior couldn't lift the dismal air. The sheets of rain falling from grey skies didn't seem to help either. Sara wondered if Nature was against her, once again.

The interiors had the sterile look of a hospital and an alertness she had only seen in police headquarters. The staff moved around silently but dutifully, not waiting to toss a greeting or exchange a smile. Sara walked up to the head desk. A poker-faced woman looked up from her computer screen as she approached.

The request was filed quickly. Sara was given a form to sign and then a female guard took her into a room for scanning. Satisfied by the check, another staff, dressed in a nurse's attire appeared. Flanked by these two women, Sara walked down the corridors to where her mother was kept.

The nurse recited the various safety protocols in a monotone voice. Sara paid a fraction of an attention to what she was saying. Her gaze swept across the white doors behind which lay many the seriously ill. People, whose minds had abandoned all signs of normalcy, now spent the remaining of their lives confined in this cage. For many, any hope of a recovery had long been lost. The government only kept them here because killing them was unethical and having them out at large was dangerous.

She tried to ignore the guttural moans of insanity emerging from these rooms and the way her flesh crawled because of it. The air smelled of nothing, but it was dry and cold and it prickled the hairs on her neck. She was reminded of the last occasion when she had been inside a facility like this.

It had resulted in her almost being killed.

"Here." The nurse opened the door to the visiting room. Sara was glad to see some sunshine lightening it up. She wondered how they expected anyone to be cured in a place as dark as this.

The room was empty. Pieces of metal furniture were lined in a neat order. Sara saw scratch marks on some of them.

"She'll be here in a minute." No sooner did the guard say that, the door at the opposite end opened.

Sara tensed. Whatever she had expected Laura Sidle to look like she hadn't expected this. A woman - frail, almost skeletal - walked towards her. Her skin was translucent and Sara could see the lining of the blood vessels like ugly phone wires. The woman's form was so withered it threatened to collapse any minute. It seemed that only the guards' tight hold prevented her from doing so.

Laura Sidle had been a striking beauty in her youth. Sara remembered her mother very well from the days when she could charm the customers into paying much more than a burnt omelet and watery coffee deserved. Her father had been prudent enough to never strike her on her face but abuse her everywhere else. He understood the importance of having a pretty wife to show off.

Like Sean did.

Sara clasped her hands nervously as she waited for her mother to sit. Laura's eyes were a bright grey, unlike that of her children, and it seemed clouded by the mists of mental delusions.

"Twenty minutes." The guard reminded Sara curtly before backing away into a far corner of the room. Sara felt weak. She didn't know if twenty minutes would be enough for her. She wondered if even twenty days would be enough. Laura Sidle seemed to have slipped deep into the pits of insanity.

"Hi." Sara started, searching her mother's face. She almost gasped when Laura looked up. The eyes had lost its fogginess and was bright clear, lucid clear.

"Hello Sara."

"Y-You recognize me?"

"You are my daughter." Laura shrugged, as if that explained everything. "Besides, you look a lot like him."

"D-dad?" Sara stuttered.

"Oh, the resemblance." She uttered in a sing-song voice. "I always knew you'd take after him."

"I didn't."

Laura smiled, as if to a young child. "Tell me about yourself."

Sara exhaled. "I've come to talk about Sean."

"No, you've come to ask me to betray Sean."

Sara didn't know what to say to that.

"You know what's remarkable? It's your eyes, so like him. Brown. Such a warm color, so comfortable. But when he used to get edgy like you are now, his eyes went black, just like yours. I know it so well. It was the last thing I remember seeing before he beat me unconscious."

Sara felt her head swim. Her mother was playing her, she knew. She was donning the mask of the innocent, brutalized victim that always brought her compassion and sympathy. Sara only felt cold.

"We are not here to talk about me. I want to find Sean. Do you know where he is?"

"Yes, I do."

"Where?"

Laura gave a slow smile. "And why should I tell you?"

Sara sighed. "Sean's in big trouble. If the police don't find him, the FBI will. And they won't try him, they'll kill him."

"They will, won't they? It's a kill or die world we live in."

"If Sean is tried in a Nevadan court, he has a hope of at least living a few more years."

Laura gave a brittle laugh. "You don't know Sean at all it seems."

"Maybe not." Sara gritted her teeth. "But I do know he's a murderer. He's an abuser. He has done terrible things to people."

"So quick to judge, are you? Don't you forget he's your brother. I'm your mother and Gordon was your father. Can you deny the blood that runs in your veins?"

Sara controlled her temper. "So, you won't tell me where he is?"

"If I will, would you promise to bring me Lena?"

"Your granddaughter?"

"Sean's daughter." Laura remarked. "I want to see her. Sean has never shown her to me, only in pictures. This was a way he controlled me."

Sara frowned. "Why do you care about Lena?"

"Do we or do we not have a deal?" Laura ignored the question.

Sara hesitated. Bringing a ten year old girl to visit this woman wasn't on top of her list of pleasurable things to do. Laura had a strong effect on people, mostly negative. She didn't want Lena to experience that.

But still, she didn't have much choice. She had to know where Sean was.

"Alright, we do."

"I'll hold you on your word, Sara, remember that?" Sara saw a dark look of threat cross her mother's face before it disappeared. "11 Harcourt."

"11 Harcourt? Are you sure?"

"That's where he started. That's where it'll all end." Laura murmured cryptically. Then before Sara had a chance to ask any more questions, she threw her hands up and began to wail. Her body went into wriggling spasms and unintelligible words spewed from her lips.

"W-what?" Sara extended her hand only to have it snatched away violently. Shocked, she turned to see who had done it. It was the nurse.

"Don't." The woman warned. "She'll get even more agitated. She might even attack you. Stay away."

Guards had already pulled a squirming Laura up and were leading her away. All the time she muttered something under her breath while humming a tune.

"As you see, she can hardly remain sane for ten minutes." The nurse remarked somberly.

Before leaving the room, Laura turned towards her daughter. "Lena." She spoke and then winked at her mischievously.


"Catherine, what is it?" Grissom panicked at the expression on his friend's face.

"Gil, it's Sara, she's gone." Catherine panted.

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

"She just left. She didn't even tell me about it. I woke up and she wasn't there. Something can happen to her, Gil. What if something already happened to her? What if Sean finds her? What if he does something to her?"

"Cath, calm down. Nothing will happen to her." Grissom laid strong hands on the blonde's shoulder. "Tell me everything."

Catherine looked into his cool, grey eyes and steadied herself. "I woke up this evening and didn't find Sara home. My first thought was that she went for a walk or something, but then I found this." She lifted a piece of handwritten note. "Lindsay got a similar note. Sara has gone to find Sean alone."

"She can't do that. She knows it's too dangerous." Grissom tried to reason.

"Read this then." She shoved the paper towards him.

He hesitated, not entirely comfortable with reading someone else's letters. But the look of conviction in her eyes remained undeterred. He took the paper from her hands and put on his reading glasses.

My dearest Catherine,

There is nothing in the world that could make me happier than just watching you sleep like this, close to me. But the horrors of reality cannot wait and we both know that it will strike and strike again until it is not caught. Sean is my brother. I wish to God he wasn't, but he is. I have to know what grudge he had against me that he lashed out at everyone close to me. Unless I find my answers, I'll never be at peace. Unless I know what his vendetta is, I'll never be adequately capable of keeping you and Lindsay safe. I failed you both once and I cannot bear to think of doing it again. For all our sakes, I am going to find him. Don't come after me. I don't want him to think the police are on his trail. Have faith in me.

Love you and only you.

Sara

Grissom read the note twice to ensure that his eyes weren't deceiving him. "What the hell is she thinking?"

"Sara blames herself for what happened." Catherine slumped wearily. "She thinks it's her fault Sean did what he did."

"Of all the stupid things I believed the woman was capable of…" He ran anxious fingers through his hair.

"I called the flights. Sara took one to San Francisco. But she could be anywhere in that city. How would we find her?"

"I'll ask Brass to call his friends in San Francisco." Grissom was trying to contain his anxiety.

"Did someone take my name?" Brass called out.

"Jim, we need you to ask your friends at the SFPD for a favor."

"I don't have friends at the SFPD." Brass snorted. "They hate my guts. But can this favor wait? I have something I think you guys would like to see."

"No, this can't wait." Catherine snapped. Brass lifted his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry." She apologized, burying her face in her hands. "It's Sara."

"What's happened to her?" The Captain questioned, alarmed.

"We hope nothing." Grissom looked at his friend. "That is why we need someone out there to check up on her."

"What the hell's going on? Why is Sara in Frisco?" Brass shifted his gaze back and forth between Catherine and Grissom.

"Sara's gone to find Sean."

"What?" He bellowed. "Has she gone out of her mind?"

"Please Jim, we need to hurry." Catherine pleaded. "Who knows where Sara is or worse what that bastard might to do to her?"

"I'll get on the phone immediately." He turned to leave and then he stopped. "You guys might want to give this a look." He handed Grissom a sheet of paper before striding away.

Grissom glanced at it. His eyes widened as he read the contents.

"What? What is it?" She asked.

"Brass got a subpoena into all the bank accounts. We got a common link between all the sudden, huge payments that were made into both Kristen and Rocky's accounts."

"Who?"

"And Joyce worked in his casino."

"You mean…"

Grissom stared ahead. "Sam Braun."


Sam Braun was his usual nonchalant self, even in the interrogation room.

"I can't believe this. You guys are always finding some thing or the other to pin on me." He sighed exasperatedly. "It was my daughter who was kidnapped and you are questioning me?"

"We did find evidence of you paying off both Kristen and Rocky, Catherine's abductors." Brass spoke.

"And you think I paid them off to pick up my daughter? That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard."

"Then how can you explain why is money being transferred from you to them?"

"Look, I pay off many people for many jobs. You don't expect me to keep tabs on the faces, now, do you? They were probably lowlifes who did something for me once."

"Do you believe him?" Catherine asked Greg. They were standing at the other side of the two-way mirror. He glanced at her warily. She was bristling like a wounded tigress ready to take revenge. He didn't know which answer should be suitable.

"I-I don't know. Do you?"

"Sam's my father." She said. "But he is also one of the cruelest men I've met. I don't know what to believe. Why would he want to hurt me?"

Greg sighed. "You know, we had a memorial for the victims who died in that explosion."

"Yeah." Catherine nodded. "I saw it on the news."

"Sara wasn't there. She couldn't be there. Sam didn't allow her to go in."

She turned to look at Greg. His head was hung in shame. "And we didn't do anything about it. No one stood up to support her even when Sam stopped her from being there for Lindsay. We weren't good friends for her."

"For a man like you, powerful, rich, Sean might prove very useful, right?" Back in the room, Brass taunted.

"I don't know this Sean." Sam said shortly. "I don't know why I'm still here. I'll never harm my daughter!"

"Oh no, you wouldn't. In fact, you made sure that I wasn't harmed." Catherine shouted as she stormed into the room.

"Catherine, you shouldn't…" Brass rose.

"That was why Kristen and Rocky treated me so well, didn't they?" She ignored Brass and stood right in front of Braun. "You paid them off to do so."

"You don't know what you're saying." He said calmly.

"Oh, don't I? All those years I've known what you were capable of, but this? Really Sam, even I didn't expect you to go this down. You collaborated with Sean to murder all those innocent people and then had everyone think I'm dead?"

"Mugs…"

"Didn't you even stop to think how it'd affect my daughter? How it would affect Mom, Nancy, Sara?"

"Sara's the root of all problems." He growled, standing up. "Sean was her brother. If not for her, none of this would have happened. His grudge was with her."

"And you took advantage of that." Catherine gave a humorless laugh. "You thought it was the perfect opportunity to drive Sara out of my life. You never liked her, did you? You weren't happy that we were together. So, you made a deal with her brother to destroy her. You made sure that not a hair on my head was hurt while you watched Sara's life and reputation being torn to shreds."

"Your relationship with Sara is wrong." He spat angrily. "She is a nobody, a nothing. You made that mistake once with Eddie. You think I would be happy with that?"

She stared at him and then shook her head sadly. "I made another mistake. The mistake of thinking you could be my father. Apparently, I was wrong. You can only be Sam Braun, the casino mogul, the man who just loves himself."

"Mugs, I don't have a hand in this." He insisted.

"You know what, I don't believe you."