Title: Stalked - Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine, Not yours. Your not paying to read it and I'm not getting paid to write it. I've never made any money, so don't sue me! Thanks.

Author's Note: Again, thank you to Solomynne, my wonderful Beta! This one was full of mistakes! Poor her. :) It could be awhile before the next chapter is up. I didn't like what I'd written for the next chapter so I ripped it up, which means I get to start from scratch. Lucky me. I love feedback, and who knows, it might prompt me to write faster...so leave me some will you! Thanks! Anyway, here you go!

Sara bagged the crumpled dollar she found lying on the parking lot. People hate to lose money, but everyone loves to find it. So when someone does lose it, it doesn't lay around for long. This meant that this dollar was probably another message from their perp, the sixth message from a guy on a crime spree whom she had nicknamed 'Bill'.

All of the crimes had been different, with nothing in common except for the dollar bill found at the scene. The first was an arson, Sara had found the money in a fireproof box at the source of the flame. The second, a break and enter; the dollar left in replace of the diamond earrings that he'd taken. Third, a car jacking, a man in a mask had yanked the driver from behind the wheel and taken off. The car had been found three hours later and the money was wrapped around the steering wheel. Sara had decided then, for sure, that they were all connected somehow.

The fourth scene had been a convenience store robbery. A man wearing a mask, wielding a gun, had run in and told everyone but the cashier to get down. He took all of the cash from the drawer and he then pulled a dollar bill from his pocket and slapped it down on the counter, with no explanation. He left without anyone getting hurt. That was the first time anyone had actually seen him for more then just a brief second.

Almost two months passed without incident after that. It was a little alarming, because without a fresh crime scene, Sara had no leads to go on. At the same time it was a relief, because it also meant that maybe he had stopped. At first she had questioned that maybe someone else had picked up on one of his cases and just hadn't linked them to hers. After a while she realized that he had indeed just stopped for whatever reason. Maybe he was in jail, maybe he moved on to another city. Maybe he grew a conscience.

Finally, he struck again. The fifth crime was an attempted rape, though attempted was a little strong. Sara just called it that for lack of a better word. Terrorizing? That might work too. He'd blindfolded a young woman immediately upon gaining entrance to her home. Then, he'd tied her up, ripped off her clothing, and had stood over her for almost a full minute, scaring her half to death, before slipping on his mask and taking off her blindfold. He left her tied up on the bed and placed the money on the nightstand, saying as he left, "For your time."

He was escalating, from the arson of an abandoned building, a B&E when nobody was home, a car jacking; the first to involve human contact, a hold up involving a weapon, and then an attempted rape; very personal. And today it was an attempted murder. He had taken a shot at a man out walking his dog. Lucky for him, he had jerked around at the sound of the shot and had been hit in the arm instead of through the heart. He claimed that as he lay there bleeding, the man had thrown the dollar at his feet and said, "With my apologies, this has nothing to do with you."

Sara was worried about what he would do next. There had not been even one shred of evidence at any of the scenes to point her toward any viable suspect. Save for the dollar bills. Sara was anxious to get back to the lab, lay them all out and look at them again. Really look at them this time. If this was all he was going to give them – then she'd run every single test she could on them.

She turned to her partner. "Hey Greg?"

"Yes, my love?"

She smiled in spite of herself. "I'm going to take what we've got back to the lab...you good here?"

"Yeah, I think I can handle it."

Sara nodded at him and walked to the nearest uniform, giving him explicit instructions to under no circumstances leave Greg alone at the scene. The cop tipped his hat at her. "Yes Ma'am."

Forty-Five minutes later she was standing in the layout room with Nick at her side. "Whatcha got, Sara?"

"Bill has struck again."

"You're kiddin' me."

"Nope." She pulled the crumpled dollar from the evidence bag. Smoothing it, she placed it next to the others. "Ok. So the first five have all been tested for prints, fibers...any trace at all. And assuming that he's as careful with this last one as he was with the first... then trace isn't what we're looking for."

"Uh, Sar? Then what are we looking for?"

Starting with the first one they had found she held them up to the light. "We'll know when we find it."

"Maybe they don't actually mean anything. Maybe it's just his signature, him taking claim for the crimes."

"That's what I thought at first too. But something he said to the vic tonight changed my mind. He said 'This has nothing to do with you.' And he apologized."

"Sounds like he's baiting us."

"My thoughts exactly, Nick."

"And he wouldn't try to bait us, unless he left us something."

"Now you're getting it." Sara held the last one up.

"Whoa, Sara, hang on. You see that?"

She moved it slightly. "Looks like an oil stain...maybe."

"It's awfully perfect to be an oil stain. Or any accidental stain at that rate."

"You're right..." She set the bill down. "Hand me the ALS would you?"

Nick hit the lights and handed her the machine. Sure enough the spot lit up a bright green.

"Could still be oil..." She was staring intently at the spot.

"I don't think so Sara, look." He was pointing at the table where the rest of the money lay. Areas were glowing green under the ALS.

"What the..." She pointed the light more directly on them. Random letters and some numbers appeared to be highlighted. "Why didn't we catch this right away?"

"Best guess? Because whatever he's using to mark them with, was dry before we actually looked at the bills – like disappearing ink."

Sara caught on. "And this was a shooting. It drew our attention fast, I found the bill right away, it's crumpled, and I sealed it in a plastic baggy. Less time in the air, less surface area exposed..."

"Like leaving your wet laundry in the basket, it doesn't get dry, just wrinkled...and smelly..."

"That's disgusting Nicky. You leave your wet clothes in a basket?"

"Nah, that's a lesson I learned from Greg."

"Now that, I believe."

Nick laughed. "Ok, so anyways, let's leave the mystery of Greg Sanders alone for now and get back to the one at hand."

"Obviously he's trying to tell us something." She laid out all of the cash side by side. Starting with the first she lit them up with the ALS. She grabbed a pen and copied down each of the highlighted portions. From the amount of letters per bill, she guessed one word on each.

One: T-C-C-H-A

Two: E-M

Three: R-E-D-A

Four: O-Y-U

Five: Numbers this time, 6379

Six: N-Y-I-T

"Ok so," Nick was reading over her shoulder. "T, C, C, H, A – Catch?"

"Me." She wrote it down. "Catch me. We were right, we are being baited."

"Next. R-E-D-A – Dare? O-Y-U – You. Dare you."

"Now we're being mocked. Some criminals just cannot stand it when we can't find them. There was a case I worked in San Francisco. A serial killer. When we couldn't get him after six deaths, he walked into the police station and turned himself in. Told us we were completely incompetent idiots. He wanted the attention more then he wanted those women dead."

Nick shook his head. "Well, at least you got him."

"If he had stopped killing and just walked away, we might not have." Sara shrugged. "But anyway, back to this case. These dollars are the only evidence we've got to connect these crimes. I wouldn't even have considered that they were the work of the same man if not for them. Six different crime scenes, six different MO's. Only the signatures are the same."

"His modus operandi is the things, like how he picks out his victims, how the crime is acted out, things that are necessary to commit the criminal act. The signature is the one thing he does at every scene. MO's can change as the offender learns more, or even if they just get bored with how they've been committing their crimes. Signatures rarely change, because they aren't something the guy has to do, but more what they want to do."

"You got it. And this guy doesn't have a real MO. Except of course, that apparently the attacks are all random. We don't have proof yet that he had ever had any contact with any of his victims."

Nick pointed at the next bill. "Then it's just numbers that have been highlighted. A house number? Apartment?"

"Could be. Or a partial phone number, or social security number, license plate – any number of things."

"Assuming they are even in the right order."

"Well, they probably are, given that it's the only one where they are all in a row, in the serial number."

"Wonder how long it took him to find a dollar with the serial number in the correct order?"

Sara thought back and a small smile formed. "Oh, I'd guess right around two months."

Nick looked at her confused.

"He went on hiatus for about that long, between crimes four and five. I figured he was in jail, or just decided to give up his life of crime. Obviously he just needed time to find the perfect bill."

"Well let's look at this one later. It's probably the only real way we have of finding him. He's not going to lead us to him through mockery. N-Y-I-T – Tiny?"

"Well, that is kind of odd..."

"Well, I'm assuming he's not finished yet. Next he'll be spelling out brained..."

Sara raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Possibly."

"Ok well, that didn't help. Back to the numbers I think. What are they? A code? A pattern of some sort?"

"It's hard to break a code when you don't know the author." She made a gesture with both hands. "Even harder when the author could very well be insane."

Nick nodded in agreement. "Well, I'll go run them through the computer, see if anything pops out at me."

"And I'm going to run this all by Grissom. Call me if you get anything."

"Will do." He turned and walked from the room.

Sara carefully re-bagged the cash before gathering them and her files up and exiting the room. Walking down the hall she spotted Grissom having what appeared to be a very intense 'conversation' with Catherine. He was wearing his sternest face and she had her hands out in front of her, making wild gestures as she talked. Sara didn't want to interrupt so she stopped a fair distance away and opened one of the folders in her hands.

She quickly became engrossed the file and didn't hear Hodges come up beside her. "Lover's quarrel?"

She glanced up quickly. "Huh?" Hodges pointed down the hall to Catherine and Grissom, whose conversation had quickly become an argument, which the entire lab was witnessing.

"Now Hodges, you shouldn't get that rumor started. You'll never be Grissom's favorite then."

Hodges frowned at her. "I never said I wanted to be his favorite. I just want to do my job well. Why – he doesn't think I'm a suck up does he?"

"No, he didn't say that..." She turned away from him and started walking down the hall. "I believe the words he used were 'kiss-ass'..." She grinned over her shoulder at him as he stared, baffled, after her.

Reaching Grissom's side she stopped. "Uh, guys?" She cleared her throat.

"What is it Sara?" Grissom snapped.

She stifled a smile. "You're kind of making a scene. Maybe you should take this 'conversation' inside your office." She pointed toward the open door less then two feet away.

Grissom quickly looked around. As everyone in the lab darted their eyes away from his, he sighed. "You're right. Now we're going to be gossip for the next week."

"Well, you can blame Hodges for that one."

"What?"

"Never mind, personal joke." She took a step back. "I'll let you two finish, and then I'll come back."

Grissom waved his hand toward his office. "No Sara, you can come too, maybe you can mediate."

Catherine chuckled. "Yeah Gil, that's an unbiased opinion. Besides, it's not like we're starting World War Three or anything. We're just having a little disagreement. We'll talk later; I'm actually due in court soon."

Sara frowned. "What's that supposed to mean? An 'unbiased opinion'?"

"A mediator is supposed to be neutral. And we all know you're not."

Sara glowered at the older woman before turning to Grissom. "I'd like your opinion on this, if you've got the time." She held up the evidence baggies containing the money.

Catherine smiled. "And that's my cue. I'll talk to you later Grissom."

As Catherine walked away, Grissom walked into his office and took a seat behind the desk. "So, how can I help?"

Sara sat down across from him. "Actually, you probably can't. But I thought I should keep you up-to-date with these cases."

"Bill? He's struck again?"

"Yeah, the shooting you sent me on this morning."

Grissom shook his head. "How is it that you land every one of his crime scenes?"

"I'm just lucky I guess."

"Yeah, but really, what are the odds?"

"Well, considering how often I'm at work and how many cases I actually handle...I'd say the odds are pretty good."

Grissom sighed. "Speaking of that. You've maxed out on overtime again."

Sara rolled her eyes. "That's never stopped me before."

"True. But maybe you should take a day off this week."

She sighed. "Grissom, we had this conversation last month. I know when I need a day off."

"Well, so do I. And I think you need to take just one day. It won't hurt. I promise."

"Griss, I'm a work-a-holic. I know it, you know it, Hell, the whole lab knows it. For you to force me to take a day off, in the middle of the week, is the harshest punishment you could dole out. And I didn't even do anything!" She was getting exasperated now. "This is not the conversation I came in here to have."

"I know." He stood up. "I'm not forcing you to. It's a recommendation, and a strong one. But not a mandatory one."

Sara stood as well and walked towards the door. "I'll think about it. Maybe I will stay home one day."

"I never said you had to stay home. Just don't come here. Ok?"

She rolled her eyes. "Gotcha."

As she walked from his office and down the hall, she threw a glance over her shoulder. When she caught him staring after her she smiled at him. He quickly averted his eyes back down to the file in his hands.

She ducked around the corner and almost ran squarely into Warrick. "Hey Sara, are you in a hurry? Or am I just invisible today?"

"You look pretty visible to me. And I'm not really in any rush, just distracted."

"By what?"

"I've got a new lead on Bill. But it's leading me nowhere."

"What kind of lead?"

"He's been marking the bills with something."

"Ahh..."

"Highlighting letters, spelling out words." Sara frowned. "And one set of numbers that doesn't mean anything."

"Frustrating. You'll get it. You always do."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence." She glanced down at her watch. "I better go. I have to be somewhere."

"Vague..." Warrick raised his eyebrows at her as he walked away.

Sara locked up her evidence before stopping to check and see if Nick had any news for her. "Hey Nick. Got anything?"

"Nope. It could still be a lot of things."

Sara sighed. "Why don't we go home for now. We can come back with fresh minds tomorrow."

"Sounds good...I've got a breakfast date with a girl from the swing shift. Wouldn't want to miss that."

Sara chuckled. "No, you wouldn't want to stand her up." She turned to walk out of the room. "Have a good time Nicky. See you tonight."

"Later."

She walked alone to her car. Maybe Grissom was right; she should take a little more time off. This was unusual, her leaving at the end of shift instead of two or three hours later. And it really wasn't that bad. Maybe it was just because her case had gone nowhere and she didn't have any real leads. She hit the automatic lock on her key chain and opened the driver's side door. Climbing in, she stuck the keys in the ignition. As she started the engine she was suddenly aware of a presence in the car. As she glanced over her shoulder a hand clamped over her mouth. A harsh whisper filled her ear. "Drive." The hand loosened and she felt the tip of a gun pressing through the back of the seat. "Drive, or I'll shoot you." There was no fear in his voice, no passion. Nothing.

Sara swallowed. Her car was locked, how did he get in? Her mind started racing. What was he going to do to her? "If you want the car, you can have it."

"You're smarter then that, Sara. I don't want the car. I want you."

He knew her name. Oh, God. This wasn't random. It was her he was after. Only one thought repeated itself in her head. 'He knows my name...he knows my name'.

She pulled out of the parking lot slowly, hoping to see someone that would recognize her. Nothing. The man gave her directions one step at a time. They drove around for about 20 minutes before he had her pull up in front of an old house. "Get out. Slowly. You try anything, and I will kill you."

She slowly opened the door, stepped out, and slammed the door behind her. He grabbed her around the upper arm and led her towards the door. She didn't know where she was but she wasn't panicking yet. She could be strong enough to get through this. She had to be.