Hope you enjoy this one. Happy reading. Thanks for all the support on the last chapter.

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Once more in the main bedroom of the house Nick got down to the business of photographing all pieces of the body that decorated the room. Bending down he took pictures of what looked like an earlobe hanging off the lamp on the nightstand. Feeling his stomach become queasy he allowed his mind to find a more pleasing train of thought.

He grinned at the picture that popped into his mind. The new girl standing in the doorway of the lounge, her long legs encased in form fitting jeans, her tee shirt riding up slightly to expose the smooth skin of her abdomen. Her embarrassment as she followed his gaze down, tugging her jacket closed and glaring at him.

He kept her in his mind as he bagged and tagged the slippery piece of skin, wondering if she had a boyfriend back home. Formulating plans to get her to go out with him he moved on to the next body part, discarding the dirty gloves as he went.

After photographing the cluster of small bones in the open drawer of the nightstand he dragged on a new pair of latex gloves from his kit. Next he took the time to document the placement of the bones before placing the evidence in a clear plastic bag, making sure he documented the evidence seal.

Placing the bag on the growing pile of evidence by the door he turned back to the nightstand, rifling through the drawer for any additional body pieces. "Kleenex, pens, address book." He mumbled to himself as he came upon each item. Satisfied the drawer was clean he moved on to the bed.

Starting at the right sided end of the bed he began a careful search, straining his eyes to see past the complicated pattern of the bedspread. His nose was almost touching the top of the bed as his mind began to wonder again, this time on the relationship between his new partner and his boss. He was concentrating so hard he almost ended up eating the evidence, it blended in so well with the red stripped cover.

Yelping in surprise he jerked back, turning his head as he began gagging. Vaguely he heard the door opening behind him.

"Hey Nicky, you all right in here?" Brass called as he stuck his head around the door.

Nick managed to wave him away as he caught his breath. Relieved the older man had left him alone he picked up his camera, and while breathing slowly through his nose, he rapidly took pictures of the rope of intestine lying on the bed.

"Brass said you might need some help in here." David said as he came through the door.

Nick found his head bobbing up and down. "I think this is more your kind of work than mine." He closed his eyes to the image. "Do me a favor and bag that would you. I've got all I need from it."

David bent down to examine the matter more closely. "I think we would be better served with a container than a bag." He answered thoughtfully.

"Whatever man, just get it out of here." Nick growled as he shoved a pair of gloves at the ME assistant.

"Oh um sure." David hastily donned the gloves, and grabbing a container from near the door, deposited the substance inside.

Nick had turned his back on the sight but could not close his eyes to the sound of the intestines hitting the bottom of the bucket. His stomach rolled as David carried the bucket out the door.

Once again he started examining the bed, this time keeping a careful distance. Reaching the top he noticed something lying on the far pillow. Moving closer he peered down for a better look. Reading the words he leaped back in surprise, looking around a little wildly for an explanation. Realizing how he was acting he laughed uneasily before picking up his camera and shooting several shots of the small piece of paper.

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Greg didn't look up from his spot on the stairs as another car rolled up next to the coroner van. Wrapping his arms around his knees he concentrated on pushing the images from his head. He was ashamed of his weakness and disappointed that he was not cut out for the job of a CSI. Trying not to cry he curled tighter into a ball.

"Greg?" Grissom asked gently as he knelt down in front of the younger man. "Greg?" He repeated in a louder voice. The older gentleman rocked back in shock at the look in the young lab tech's eyes.

"Sorry Grissom." Greg mumbled trying not to break down. "I thought I was going to be okay but the brains…." He trailed off as he began trembling.

Confused Grissom patted the younger man awkwardly on the back. He felt very inadequate in these kinds of situations. He was grateful when Brass chose that moment to come outside.

"Hey kid." He called to Greg. "Why don't you take my car and go get us some coffee?" He offered deciding that the kid could use some time away from the scene.

Greg jumped up too fast and had to sit down as his head began swimming dangerously. Without realizing it Grissom had supported the younger man with his arm. "Easy now." He murmured as Greg stood up again, this time more slowly. Nodding his head to show he was okay he gratefully took the keys and money from the older man and without fanfare quickly drove off.

"He really did pretty good, considering the circumstances." Brass said in response to Grissom's look. "It's bad Gil." He went on to describe the scene. "It's going to take hours to pick up all the pieces."

"The press hasn't got a hold of this?" Grissom asked unnecessarily. He could see that they were the only ones around.

Brass shook his head. "Nah, this far out it'll take a while."

Grissom pursed his lips as he looked up at the front door of the house. "Is Sara holding up alright?" He asked quietly.

"Both her and Nicky have had some moments but they're holding up." Brass said after a few minutes of silence. "She knows what she's doing."

"Of course, I taught her." The CSI supervisor said, allowing a rare smile to keep through.

"She's in the kitchen." Brass nodded is head in the right direction. "I promised I'd get more containers out of the van." He started to walk off.

"Um guys." Nick called as he walked out of the front door. "We got a problem here."

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Warrick shifted nervously as he entered the main lobby of the hospital. Glancing around he spotted the gift shop, now closed, and groaned thinking he should have stopped and picked something up before coming. Shrugging in regret he ambled over to the information desk.

"Can I help you sir?" The older volunteer asked as she took in his disheveled appearance and blood stained sleeve.

Warrick ran his hand over his two day beard, feeling the roughness against his palm. "Um yeah I need the room number for Lindsey Willows."

"I'm sorry sir, visiting hours are over." The volunteer informed him.

"I really need to talk to her mom. Its work related. We um work together."

"I can have the nurse send her down but you can't go up." She said firmly.

Warrick looked at his watch before rubbing his eyes. "No thanks. I don't want to disturb Lindsey." He said walking off. Going outside he looked around, his eyes finding the brightly lit sign announcing emergency. Looking at his arm he headed in that direction.

"What's your complaint?" A harried nurse asked him.

"Um I was shot a couple days a go and I think it's infected." He answered, feeling out the appropriate forms.

He had to wait only half an hour before the doctor was seeing him. "It doesn't look that bad, but I'll get you some antibiotics. How's the pain doing?"

Warrick thought about the empty bottle of vicodin. "Pain's pretty bad. I've been trying to take ibuprofen but it's not taking the edge off."

The doctor nodded. "I'll provide you with something stronger."

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Nick seemed hesitant as he turned to Grissom. "How well do you know Sara?" He asked the older man.

"What's going on Nicky?" Grissom asked in a strained voice. He could feel Brass staring at him curiously while wind seemed to rush through his ears.

Nick pursed his lips as he thought about what he was going to say. "What would you say if I told you I found evidence linking her to the crime?"

"Where did you find this evidence?" Grissom demanded at the same time Brass asked, "What kind of evidence?"

The younger CSI bit his lip as he held up the evidence bag. "I found it on the pillow in the main bedroom." He said almost apologetically.

Brass watched as Grissom jerked the bag out of his employee's hand. The supervisor was silent as he examined the business card inside, his brow furrowed. "This doesn't mean she committed this crime." He said finally.

"Never said it did." Nick assured him. "But she is connected somehow."

Grissom nodded as he looked over at the police detective. "Want me to talk to her?" His friend asked. Grissom sighed as he shook his head. Mentally squaring his shoulders he entered the front door, careful to keep to the outlined footsteps as he made his way to the kitchen.

In the doorway of the small room he stopped and stared as memories assaulted him. Sara eight years ago at Harvard, so serious as she rejected the offers of her classmates to go have fun. Her small smile as he admonished her about being so serious. How her eyebrows had risen at his comments while her smile had widened into her special grin. Later that day walking across campus and having the snowball hit him between his shoulder blades.

Sara turned to see Grissom staring at her with a funny look on his face. "Grissom?' She called perplexed, ignoring the way her heart tripped at the sight of him.

He came out of his trance to see her standing at the sink holding a mutilated heart in her hand. "Where'd you find that?" He asked with out thinking.

"Garbage disposal." She answered sliding it into a container. "I thought you had court?"

He nodded noncommittally as he cleared his throat. "How was your flight?" He asked gruffly.

"Good." She answered peeling off her gloves. She tilted her head at the older man. "Grissom, what's going on?" She asked having always been sensitive to his needs.

"Sara have you ever been to this crime scene before?"

"Let's see, I made a quick stop out here between getting off the plane and the airport losing my luggage." She quipped sarcastically.

"Sara." Grissom growled warningly.

"No, I have never been to this crime scene before arriving here with Nick." She answered dutifully. "Grissom, what's going on?" She asked growing concerned.

He ignored her worried question, concentrating on forging ahead. "Have you at any time tonight entered the master bedroom?"

"No. We started as a group in the living room then I came in here and Nick took the bedroom." She answered her voice turning hard.

"Did you happen to visit Nick at anytime he was in the bedroom?" Grissom asked almost desperately.

"No." She answered in a clipped voice.

Closing his eyes he forged on. "Have you ever seen a crime scene like this before?"

Ignoring his question she asked bluntly. "So I need a lawyer?"

In response he held up the evidence bag. "This was found on the bed." He watched as she turned pale and grabbed for the sink to steady herself. "Sara?" He probed gently.

"He's mocking me." She whispered angrily.

"You know him?" Grissom asked in alarm.

She shook her head. "More like I know of him." She held up her hand when he started to speak. "It's a long story Grissom. Let's finish gathering this evidence." Se said indicating the bloody containers.

"Sara." Grissom began carefully, well aware of her temperament. "I can't let you handle the evidence until you explain to me why your business card was at the scene of the crime." He said holding up the evidence bag once again.

Sara huffed out her breath as she considered her options. "Okay." She said simply.

"Okay?" He asked shocked that she was acting so calmly. One of the things he remembered best about her was her stubbornness.

She nodded. "Let's gather the troops so everyone hears this. I only want to have to say it once." She said heading out of the kitchen.

Soon they were assembled on the porch, Doc sitting in the available chair while Grissom and Brass leaned against the railing with their arms crossed. David and Nick were sprawled along the stairs.

Sara cleared her throat, uncomfortable being the center of attention. "Four years ago we had multiple crime scenes reported during the night and being short staffed I was sent to one on my own. Didn't bother me, I could handle anything." She gave a brittle laugh.

"Nothing could have prepared me for what I found." She indicated the doorway. "He likes to watch. He saw my reaction."

"He calls it in anonymously when he's done. The second time he asked for me personally."

"They let you do to the scene, knowing that's what he wanted?" Nick asked incredibly.

Sara shrugged as she avoided Grissom's gaze. "It was just me and a fellow coworker there at the time. It was my decision to go."

She could feel the older man's gaze boring into her. "The scene was exactly the same down to the placement of the body parts."

"That's how you knew the heart was in the garbage disposal." Sra nodded at Grissom's words.

"Why didn't you say anything when we first arrived?" Nick asked, a hurt look gracing his face.

She shrugged self consciously. "I wanted to be sure before I said anything. And I guess a part of me didn't want to believe it." Out of the corner of her eye she watched Greg drive up.

"How long has this been gong on?" Grissom asked in a quiet voice.

She bit her lip before responding. "Eight cases over four years." She answered quietly. He moved until he was in her line of vision.

"This guy has been targeting you for four years and you haven't called me?" His voice lashed out.

She flinched at the censure in his voice. "It's being handled." She said shrugging.

"So now he's followed you here." Brass spoke up as Grissom stalked to the other side of the porch. Greg stood on the steps in confusion, the coffee forgotten in his hands.

She shook her head. "That's part I don't get. He normally takes three to four days to complete a job. Hw would have had to know I was coming the moment Grissom called." Her eyes widened in horror as the realization sunk in.

"He had to have your phone bugged, or a spy in your office." Nick voiced the thought for her.

"Brass get some more security out here, and some people to sweep the area. If he's watching we're going to try to get him." He swung around to glare at Sara. "And you are going back to the lab. I don't want you out here and I don't want you alone."

Sara was already shaking her head. "I'm the one that knows this guy best. I know what to expect in there."

"Sara." Grissom growled warningly, exasperated with the defiant female.

"I have a question." The now calm Greg spoke up as he passed out the cups of coffee. Brass suppressed a smile as Grissom stomped around the porch in anger. "What happened to the baby?"

"What baby?" Grissom and Brass both turned to him in shock.

Greg looked at them self consciously. "The baby seat in the back of the car." He mumbled pointing to the victim's parked car.

"It's part of his MO." Sara spoke up. "He targets single mothers with young children."

"What does he do with the child?" Doc asked into the hushed silence.

"He puts them in the freezer." Sara swallowed hard. "In freezer bags."

As one the group turned towards her. She closed her eyes against the image that was imprinted on her brain. "He puts them in the blender first."

Coffee hit the payment as Greg doubled over and began retching.