Irrefutable

By: Manigault

Thanks to all of you who are reading this story and many thanks to those of you who have reviewed!

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Sara managed to make it through the rest of shift without disruptions. Half expecting Brass to be waiting by her car, she was relieved to see no sign of him and decided that he must have taken her seriously. Sliding into the front seat, she felt the weight of her gun pressing into her back and for the first time since becoming a CSI was happy to have the weapon.

She was so preoccupied with everything that had transpired since the previous shift, she didn't notice the dark blue Chevy that had been keeping a steady distance behind her since pulling out of CSI headquarters. Grissom would be furious with her for not paying better attention. As she entered their neighborhood her senses kicked in and she became aware of each home that she passed, wondering who lived within the walls, and if one of them could be the instigator in this mess.

Pulling into the driveway, she looked in her rearview mirror to be sure nobody was lurking. It was then she noticed the Chevy drive past, its windows tinted so that she couldn't see the driver. A shiver swept along her spine and she tried to make out the tag number. She didn't recognize the car from the neighborhood, but then, she hadn't payed much attention to anyone except Grissom since moving here. Reciting the number in her mind, she decided to write it down when she entered the house.

Sara punched in the number to turn off the alarm, and then immediately punched it back in to provide a sense of security. This was crazy, but Grissom was right, she did feel better having the alarm system. Still, she moved from room to room checking the closets and beneath the beds to make her security complete. Standing in the kitchen, she remembered to write the tag number down and debated on phoning Brass and as quickly dismissed the idea. She would check the tag number out herself when she went into work tonight. That way she wouldn't be putting Brass at risk by getting him more involved than she already had. Brass had been through so much lately, between his surgery and his daughter vanishing again, she should never have told him any of this.

Nibbiling on a multi-grain English muffin, Sara leaned against the counter and let her mind drift back to Grissom. He was forced to spend time with Lady Heather and she couldn't help but wonder if his attraction to her would prove impossible to ignore. Although she trusted him, she didn't trust her and had no idea what was going through her mind. Sara wrapped the rest of the muffin up in a paper towel and moved from the room to her sofa. Curling up, a throw pillow tucked against her stomach, she fell into a restless sleep.

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When Grissom approached Heather, after his phone call with Sara and Brass, he quickly asked her to not speak of his actions once inside the car.

"You think it's bugged." Heather stated without surprise.

"Why take the chance?" Grissom replaced the gas nozzle and gave Heather an unreadable look. "I had to speak with her."

"I didn't say anything."

They were both silent as he pulled back onto the interstate. Several miles later Grissom's cell phone began to ring and a sense of dread gripped his mind.

"Grissom," he said sharply.

"Mr. Grissom," the lunatic spoke with the irritating distorted voice. "How are you and our friend, Lady Heather?"

"Cut the shit," Grissom fumed. "Who are you?"

"We've met, Mr. Grissom. That's all that you need to know."

"Did you call to give us directions?"

"Of course," the lunatic sounded as if he were smiling. "You shouldn't be far from exit 14. If you take that exit and turn right it will lead you to a small hotel. Rest for the evening, Mr. Grissom. I''m sure that you are tired."

"I'm not tired," Grissom clipped out in even tones. "I prefer to keep driving."

"It's not a request, Mr. Grissom, it's a demand. I insist. In fact I've made reservations for you and Lady Heather."

"You phoned in reservations?" There would be records if he did and Grissom would follow the trail.

The chilling laughter made his hope fade. "I made the reservations in person. I'm very good at disguishes so it won't help you to ask for my description."

Grissom decided that he would anyway.

"Oh, and don't try to get two rooms, I plan on checking in with you sometime during the night and I suggest that you both be available."

"What kind of sick games are you playing with us?" Grissom had no desire to spend a night in a hotel room with Heather or any woman other than Sara.

"Sara will be upset, but that's to be expected." The lunatic chuckled. "I wonder how she should find out. She's very beautiful, isn't she?"

"You are insane if you think that you can drive a wedge between myself and Sara." Grissom felt that Sara had been correct in her assumptions that this man was stalking her. The man's next words confirmed it.

"She's upset right now. Sleeping on the sofa, all curled up. She's crying. I think that the thought of you and Lady Heather being together is too much for her to take."

Grissom felt his jaw fall open and his eyes widened. "You have cameras in my house? You are watching Sara in our home?"

"And I thought you were brillant, Mr. Grissom. Sara forgot to turn the alarm on about a month ago, I was fortunate in picking that day to break into your home. It was almost too easy."

Grissom couldn't believe this person had been invading his private life for the past month. His and Sara's private world.

"You have cameras in every room?" Grissom knew the answer before the man spoke.

"Relax, Grissom. I don't care for watching you touch her in any degree. I don't watch you have sexual intercourse."

The choice of words was odd to Grissom, but the context in which they were said was much too clear. "If you harm one hair on Sara's head I will find you."

"Sara threatened the same thing not long ago. It's a shame you are so far apart and you have no clues to finding me. I'm tired of this conversation. I'll call you sometime in the next few hours."

Grissom slammed his fist on the steering wheel, sending the horn blaring into the night. Heather leaned over the seat and put a hand on his shoulder. Pulling away from her, he sent the car into the other lane and was thankful they were the only ones on this stretch of road as he corrected the steering wheel.

"Tell me what he said that upset you," Heather said as she pulled her hand back to her own lap. It took several minutes but he filled her in on the entire conversation. The camera part she had picked up from his side of the conversation.

"I need to talk with Sara," Grissom stared out of the front windshield. "I'm going to call and warn her."

"You can't use the cell phone," Heather argued. "Somehow he knows when you use the cell phone and you don't want to risk him becoming angry."

"He's watching her," Grissom felt his pulse rate increasing rapidly. "Sara needs to know that and find the cameras."

"Gil, you can't call her. If she's using the alarm, then she's safe right now."

"I don't know that." Grissom did know that he wanted to turn the car around and go home to Sara. "I should go back to Vegas."

"You can't do that, Gil, you made a promise to help me get my grandchild." Heather felt a new fear that he would abandon their trail and return to Vegas.

Grissom glanced over at her and grimaced inwardly. He had to warn Sara.

TBC