Title: Stalked, Chapter 3
Disclaimer: Well, they're still not mine, no matter how I beg to have them. So obviously I'm not making any money. Which is unfortunate, because I'm broke. Again. So please don't sue me, I need all I have.
Authors' Note: Sol, you've put up with much more then I can say. Thank you. As for the rest of you...leave me some feedback! Come on now, don't make me beg...I don't like to beg, makes me feel cheap. :o) Even if you don't like it, tell me. I'm not saying I'll change it...but maybe it'll help in the next chapter. And if you DO like it, I want to know! So hit the review button and tell me!
Nick hung up his phone as he walked into Grissom's office. "Grissom?"
Grissom looked up at the sound of confusion in Nick's voice. "Yeah Nick?"
"Have you seen Sara tonight?" He leaned against the doorframe.
"She said she was probably going to take the night off."
Nick almost laughed out loud. "Sara? A night off? In the middle of the workweek? That's not usual."
"She maxed out on overtime again. It was my suggestion." Grissom frowned. "Why? Do you have something for her on one of her cases?"
Yeah, and I've been calling her for two hours now…starting to worry a little. Even if she's off, she always answers her phone when it's the lab calling."
"Maybe she's asleep." He frowned again. "Or out…"
This time Nick did laugh. "That sounds even stranger then her taking a night off."
"She's allowed to have a life, Nick."
"Yeah I know, but that doesn't mean she does."
Grissom didn't like the idea of her sitting alone all the time. "You've left messages?"
"Yep, two on her machine at home, two on her cell."
Grissom nodded. "Ok then, it's not like you can worry yet, she's a grown woman."
Nick nodded in agreement, for all they knew, she was sound asleep with her phone on vibrate. "Ok boss, I'll get back to work. Let me know if you hear from her ok?"
Grissom nodded as Nick turned from the doorway and headed for trace. He shouldn't be worried either, but Nick was right, this was unlike her. Highly unlike her. He picked up his phone. Dialing her number he sighed, he was overreacting again. If it were any of the rest of his team, he'd assume they were just out having a good time. But with Sara…
Her machine picked up. "Hey Sara, its Grissom. I know I urged you to take a night off, but Nick's got something for you. Call me."
He hung up and frowned. She had never not picked up when he called. He grabbed his car keys off the desk and started for the door. On the way he almost bumped into Catherine. "In a hurry, Gil?"
"I just uh, have to go check on something. Tell everyone I'll be back in about an hour, would you?" Not giving her a moment to question him further he headed for the door.
As he pulled up into her apartment's parking lot he looked around. Her car wasn't here. Glancing at his clock, he saw it was after 1am. She should be here. He parked in the spot next to hers. Getting out of the car he dialed her number again. Her machine. Then he tried her cell phone, and it went immediately to her voice mail. "Sara, it's me. I'm starting to worry. Call me." He couldn't control the panic in his voice. He didn't know why he was worried at all. When she finally did get home and called him, he was going to be awfully embarrassed. He thought about this for only a fleeting moment as he reached her door.
Knocking loudly, he called her phone again. He could hear it ringing through the door but all other signs of life were silent. "Sara?"
Still no answer. He continued knocking as he dialed Brass's number. "Hey Jim, it's me."
"Hey buddy, what's up?"
"I need you to do something for me. Don't ask, just please do it."
"Name it."
"I need you to check the GPS unit in Sara's car. See where she is."
"Spying on your CSI's again Gil? That's not nice."
"I can't find her, and it's not like her to disappear." He heard Brass sigh at the other end of the line.
"Alright, I'll call you back when I get something. Don't panic ok? I'm sure she's fine, just preoccupied."
"Yeah, that's what I told Nick, before I started worrying. Thanks." He hung up the phone and started back down the stairs. This wasn't like him, not at all. But he suddenly had a very strong sense that something was wrong. He got in his car and drove back to the lab. There was nothing he could do yet.
As he entered the building fifteen minutes later, Greg walked up beside him. "Find her?"
Grissom furrowed his eyebrows, "She's not missing Greg."
"So when you took off out of here like a bat out of hell, you were just late for a doctor's appointment or something then. Your conversation with Nick had nothing to do with it?"
Grissom sighed. "I went over to her place."
"And she's not there is she?"
"No, she's not."
"Should I worry?"
"I don't know Greg, I just don't know." He walked away from the younger man, leaving him standing in the hall with an expression of anxiety on his face.
Half an hour later, Grissom was sitting at his desk contemplating calling Sara's phone again when his rang. He answered it. "Sara?"
"Boy, you must really be worried about her, huh?"
"Jim…"
"Sorry, but I know you have caller ID on your phone."
Grissom gritted his teeth. It was like he couldn't control his own thoughts. Only Sara could get under his skin like this. "Get anything?"
"Yeah, and it is kind of strange. I'm looking at the screen right now, and the little blip that is her car has been sitting at the airport."
"The airport? She was taking one day off, not going on vacation."
"According to the guy I talked to, it's been sitting there since yesterday…long term parking. I've sent someone over there to check it out."
"Don't let them touch it. I'm on my way…it could be a crime scene."
"I figured you'd say that. They have strict orders not to do anymore then look in the windows."
"Thanks." He was up and out of his office before the impact of what Brass had said actually hit him. He stopped dead in the middle of the hallway and didn't hear Greg come up behind him.
"…Grissom? Hey, Grissom!"
He turned around. "Go grab your kit. And get Nicky too. Brass has Sara's car."
"Now can I worry?"
Grissom answered as he turned back around. "Yes Greg. Now you can worry."
Half an hour later Nick, Greg, and himself were standing next to Sara's car. Nothing looked amiss; the doors were locked, keys gone. From the outside he didn't see any sign of struggle.
"What if she really just went out of town? She'll come back and think we've lost it - for breaking into her car." Greg spoke up as a uniform popped the lock.
"Nah, Greg, she'll be flattered that we were so worried." Nick tried to shrug it off but inside his stomach was a mess. He knew what it was like to be alone somewhere and not know if anyone had even missed you yet.
"I'm just sayin'…"
"She would have said something if she were going somewhere." Grissom snapped. His head hurt and this was like a nightmare come to life. "Let's get this car processed."
They all stepped to the back of the car and a silence fell as the same uniform worked the lock on the trunk. They all knew what they could find inside. When the lock finally gave, the cop took a step back for the CSIs to open it fully. Greg quickly looked down at his shoes and Nick closed his eyes. Glancing at them both, Grissom took a step forward and with a gloved hand lifted the lid. "It's empty."
He heard the rush of air as both men released the fear that had been building. "Ok. Nick, you take the trunk. Greg, the backseat. I've got the front." He walked around to the driver's side door and opened it. Just as one would imagine, it was clean inside.Showroom clean
"What does she do in here? Vacuum everyday?" Greg's voice came from the backseat.
"Either that, or our perp cleaned it for her."
"I've seen cars that have been cleaned by a perp, Grissom. This car looks CSI clean."
"Then we'll know that anything we find can help. Get to work."
An hour later they were still coming up with nothing. No hairs, no fibers, no prints. Every imaginable surface had been wiped clean. The only positive thing was there was also no trace of blood.
Greg spoke up from the backseat. "Grissom? I think you should take a look at this."
Grissom opened the other back door and looked at what Greg was pointing to. It was an indent in the leather of the back of the driver's seat. "Can you tell what that is?"
"Looks like the barrel of a gun left an impression."
"So most likely she was taken at gunpoint. We need to get the security footage from the cameras."
Brass walked up behind the car then. "Guys find anything?"
Nick turned to face him. "I don't think there is anything here for us to find. There's no sign Sara was ever in this trunk…"
"We've got evidence to suggest that she was taken against her will at gunpoint. Muzzle imprint on the back of her seat." Greg's voice was unusually solemn.
Grissom spoke up. "Can we get the tapes from the cameras?"
"Already done. They're on the way to your lab now. You guys need anything else?"
"Did you put an APB out on her?" Nick asked.
"She won't officially be a missing person for another three hours. I'll file the complete report then."
"God that rule sucks. We can't prove that she's not on a beach in Tahiti right now, but we KNOW she's not! So we just sit around with our thumbs up our asses until she's been missing for 24 hours. In 24 hours her trail could have gone ice cold. Dammit!" Nick's voice was angry and he was pacing in a small circle behind the car.
When Grissom responded his tone was somehow still calm. "Listen Nicky, getting mad isn't going to help her. If we keep our tempers in check and reign in our emotions, we'll find her. Ok?"
Nick took a deep breath through his nose and released it in a whoosh from his mouth. "Lets get this back to the garage and fume the inside. Maybe we'll get lucky."
They moved the car back to the garage at the lab and Nick set up a fume gun inside. "She's really going to be mad if we destroy her car and she's just taking a day…"
From the other side of the car, Catherine sighed. "We both know that she's not."
"I know. But I'd rather just imagine she'll come storming in here, yelling at us for making a mess of her car." He turned on the gun, stepped back and shut the door. On the side, Catherine mimicked his movements.
"I know Nicky, but you have to be realistic. Some guy took her. She's being held somewhere right now against her will, scared and alone. And she's depending on us to find her."
"You shouldn't sugar coat it, Catherine. Why don't you just remind me that she could be raped or killed? You think I've been doing this job this long and don't realize what kind of danger she could be in?" The pitch in Nick's voice raised as his emotions got the better of him. He didn't know if he was more scared for Sara, or angry at the man that took her.
"I know it's hard Nick, but we have to think of her as a victim instead of a friend, or else we'll end up approaching this like a distraught friend instead of a talented CSI. She doesn't need a friend now; she needs us to do what we do best."
"I know Cath. I'll try…we are going to find her aren't we?"
Catherine turned towards the door. "One way or another, Nick. Call me when this settles." She waved her hands at the car.
She knocked softly on Grissom's door. It was standing open, but he looked like if she didn't announce her presence he would jump out of his skin if she started talking. Even at the soft knock he flinched just a little. Looking in her direction he smiled a dry smile.
"Hey Grissom. You look like you've lost your best friend." Her tone almost a whisper.
He rolled his eyes in an attempt to lighten the mood. "More like, I misplaced something important. If I hadn't told her to take the night off…"
"Hey now. We can't play the blame game ok? It wouldn't have made a difference anyhow. Her car has been in that parking lot since yesterday morning, about an hour and a half after she clocked out."
"Have we seen the tapes from the security camera?"
Catherine sighed; he was being avoidant again. "Yeah. You see her car pull up, a man gets out. But it's a bad image…you can't see anything but a shadow."
"So we have nothing." He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Not yet. Nick's fuming the car and Greg's going to head over to her apartment…"
"…I'm going with him." He stood up quickly.
"We don't expect to find anything there…we don't think she made it home."
"Still. Call me if Nick gets any prints." He brushed past her on his way out the door.
As the apartment manager, a man who was not too happy about being woken up in the middle of the night, unlocked Sara's door, Greg spoke up. "This feels a little weird Grissom…I mean it's her home."
"I know. Let's go." He turned to the manager. "Thank you. We'll lock up when we leave, and contact you if we have any further questions."
The man grumbled something about waiting until the sun came up and then shuffled his way back to his own apartment.
Greg was standing there staring into the apartment. Grissom walked in and looked back at him. "Come on Greg. You're not going to find anything just looking in."
Greg sighed and walked through the door. "I really have a problem snooping through my friend's stuff."
"We're not snooping. We're investigating. If you're going to have a problem with this, you should go back to the lab and help Nick with prints."
Greg shook his head. "No, I'm ok."
"Good. I'll take the bedrooms and the bathroom. You cover the kitchen and living room. Ok?"
Greg nodded and headed for the kitchen, relieved not to have to enter the more personal rooms of her home. "No sign of struggle." He announced as he walked in.
"Yeah, we're pretty sure she didn't make it home."
"Then what are we doing here? If we don't think he was here?"
"Because, we don't have anywhere else to look."
Greg turned away from the sound of Grissom's voice and began searching for anything out of the ordinary. Eventually the discomfort he had felt faded away as he started thinking of the room as a just another scene as opposed to Sara's home; after he stopped thinking that they weren't Sara's notes taped to the refrigerator, that they weren't Sara's dirty dishes in the sink. He opened the refrigerator and frowned. Empty. Not so much as a half empty jar of mayonnaise, or can of pop. Maybe their guy had been here… or she cleaned it out herself. As he looked around the rest of the room, nothing else popped out as being strange, or even out of place. Sighing, he straightened his shoulders and walked through the room divider into the living room.
This time it was a little harder not to remember that these were Sara's things. Everything in this room reflected who she was. He found himself staring at the photos on the wall, wondering who they were. That wasn't usual for just a random victim. He could picture her curled up on the couch with a book, or remote in hand. Everything about this sucked. This was Sara's property he was supposed to be rifling through. How on earth was this supposed to be an objective search? He took another look at, what he assumed was, a picture of Sara as a child and got to work. She needed his A game. And that's exactly what she was going to get.
Grissom walked back to Sara's bedroom and stopped at the door. He had expected this to be easier then it was. He'd always taken a quiet pride in the fact that he could detach himself from a case to the point that there wasn't so much a victim as it was just another puzzle for him to solve. He'd never let his emotions rule the way a case was handled. It was rare that he even showed those emotions that he felt.
Why was this case so different? Even when Nick had been kidnapped and held, he had been able to detach himself and bring him home. He'd worried about Nick, sure, but he'd had faith in himself, faith in his team, and he knew they'd find him. Now he felt the faith in himself wavering, because all he wanted to do was punch something. Scream to the heavens that it wasn't fair. They could not take her now. Not now.
The faith in his team never wavered however. He knew they all liked Sara, thought of her as a friend, and wouldn't let her down. But as Greg had just proven, it was going to be hard on them, to collect evidence objectively, to question suspects without remembering who it was that they'd lost. And how could he expect them to? They would all get emotionally involved. Damn. This really wasn't fair.
He walked into her room, reaching out and flipping on the overhead light as he walked in. Nothing seemed out of place, and there was no sign of struggle. He assumed that the early assumptions had been correct and she had never made it home. So, somewhere between point A and point B, she had been grabbed.
He'd never been in her bedroom before, and Greg was right, it didn't feel right to be here now. He opened a drawer and sifted a gloved hand through her most private possessions. Then he opened another and learned a few things about her that made him blush. Closing the drawer quickly he gave the room a thorough once over before declaring it clean and moved on to the extra bedroom.
He walked in and flipped on a light, and what he saw made him frown. For as neat as the other rooms were, this one did look like a struggle had occurred. Papers covered every surface and police files filled the shelves. He'd only picked up three when he realized what this room was. This was where she kept her cold cases, hundreds of them. When he opened another one, he realized they weren't just hers. Some of them appeared to go back twenty or thirty years. "My God Sara…"
Shorthand, written in her handwriting, filled a large portion of the margins. His voice shook as he closed the file and set it back down. "Sometimes you just have to let go…" He walked out of the room. They could send someone else back to collect these later if they decided they were probative to the investigation.
"Greg?"
"In here."
Grissom walked into the living room to find him staring a group photo they'd taken at the last Christmas party. He walked up beside him. "It's hard."
Greg looked at him with a sorrowful expression. "Do you even know where yours is?" He pointed to the photo.
"No. In an album somewhere would be a good guess."
"Me either. But she framed hers, hung it up…in a location that she'd see it every single day." He turned from the picture and walked toward the door. "Are we done?"
"Did you find anything?"
"No. The fridge is empty…I mean empty. Not a thing inside. But that's not that weird…I dated a girl once who didn't keep any food in her house. None. If she wanted to eat something she went to the store, bought in, cooked it, ate it, and threw all the leftovers away." He shrugged. "But, for Sara, it just struck me as out of character."
Grissom nodded. "Yeah, it is. Last time I was here the refrigerator was full. It's been awhile, but I don't think that would change. Why would it be empty?"
"I was thinking maybe our guy cleaned it out for her. I mean, if he's got her, he's got her keys…"
"But he didn't touch anything else? Didn't disrupt anything…I don't know…Wait. There was something else..." He turned and walked from the room.
Greg followed close behind him. "What do you mean?"
"Her clothes…" He opened her closet. "She has to have more clothes then this…I've never seen her wear any of this…" he waved his had towards the shirts.
"You know what she wears?"
"Yeah, and I know what you wear. That shirt," He pointed to Greg's chest."It's new."
"How'd you…"
"It's my job Greg. I notice things. And her toothbrush and hairbrush are strangely absent."
"So maybe she did go on a trip." Greg suddenly sounded hopeful.
"No. You and I both know better. Whoever took her came back here to get her things. Either to make it look like she went on vacation, or so she had it. But that's good. It means she's probably still alive. He had to figure that I, as her boss, would know she didn't go on vacation…"
"So why go through the motions if he knew we weren't going to buy into it anyway?"
"He wasn't just going through the motions Greg… He was here to get it for her. So she'd have it. We need to go tell Brass."
Grissom nodded and headedfor the door, holding it open as Greg bolted out in front of him. Locking it behind him, he sealed it with a crime scene sticker. That way they'd know if he came back.
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