A/N: Thanks so much for reviewing, again! I changed the rating just for this chapter because there is some violence. Enjoy!

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Sara drove for three hours to get to the suspect's house. She had told Brass that she would probably need an officer to follow her, just in case. He said he would get right on it, but Sara had noticed that no one had been following her for the past twenty miles. All the way to the scene, Sara had sung along to country songs while thinking about Nick.

When she pulled up to the house, she waited in her car for ten minutes. Sara couldn't see anyone coming and tried calling Brass but there was no cell phone service. 'I really am in the middle of no where. Oh well, there's no use just sitting here.' She decided to ring the doorbell.

Upon getting out of the car, her nose was hit with the foul smell of decaying body and her body was hit with a wave of the summer heat. "Where is that smell coming from?' Then she saw a dog lying in the front yard, among the scraps of metal. It had numerous stab wounds and flies were buzzing all around it. Sara pulled out her gun as she saw the wounds. As she approached the front door, she got a good look at the house.

It was very old and the white paint was chipping in almost all spots. Some of the windows were broken and the porch sagged and creaked when she stepped on it. Sara pushed the doorbell, or where it should have been; it had been shot at and now there was a nice hole in the wall. She knocked instead. No one answered. Sara pushed open the door and called out, "Hello? Mr. Wilcox? Anyone home?"

She gingerly stepped inside the rundown house. The inside was not much better than the outside. The stairs leading up to the second floor were missing a few steps and clutter was everywhere. Through an open doorway to the right, Sara could see a living room. A pink couched had been slashed down the middle and stuffing was falling out. Beer cans were everywhere and there was rotting food on plates next to the couch. The hair on the back of Sara's neck stood on end. She called out again, "Mr. Wilcox?"

This time, she heard someone move on the second floor above her. A moment later, a man came tripping down the stairs. Sara jumped but held her gun in position when the man stood up, holding a knife with dried blood on it. 'Probably the murder weapon,' thought Sara. The man had greasy brown hair, dirty clothes with beer stains, and looked like he hadn't shaved in about two weeks. "Mr. Wilcox?" I'm Sara Sidle from the Las Vegas crime lab. I just need to ask you a few –". Mr. Wilcox lunged at Sara but she avoided his attack.

"Get out of my house you filthy cop!" yelled Mr. Wilcox as he chased Sara into the living room. She fired a round but missed due to her shaking hands.

"I'm not a cop Mr. Wilcox!" The man seemed to calm down. He had stopped chasing her and had lowered his weapon. Sara did the same. "I'm a crime scene investigator. I just need to ask you a few questions about your brother, John Wilcox." Steven Wilcox lunged at her and Sara was not expecting it and could not avoid the sharp blade.

A wave of pain filled Sara's body as she fell to the ground. She could see blood trickling out of her vest and forming a pool next to her. Her breathing became labored. "Stay away from Johnny!" Mr. Wilcox grabbed her gun and fled. She heard a car start outside and peel out. Sara couldn't sit up, the pain was too much. She tried recollecting all the events so that she could tell the cop when he got to the house. 'Where is the cop? I told Brass. He should have been here by now.' Then she thought of Nick, 'I guess I won't be able to get to his house after work Oh, Nick.' Sara started feeling lightheaded and then everything was black.

A/N: Please review! I don't mind constructive criticism.