SLOW BURN

~ Chapter 15 ~

Keeping as low as she could manage to avoid the thick tangle of sticks and branches, Catherine worked her way out of the small copse by the water's edge and, standing upright again, surveyed the surrounding area with interest.

It had taken her the better part of an hour to finally get to the site of their latest body dump, over territory and terrain that she hadn't even known existed before today. Born and bred in Las Vegas, she'd been visiting Lake Mead and its environs for as long as she could remember but this particular part of it was a revelation to her; however, given just how difficult she and the two dayshift CSIs she travelled in with had found access to it, that wasn't altogether surprising.

The sound of a outboard motor approaching from the south-west caught her attention and, looking out across the broad expanse of water, she watched as a Park Service patrol boat moved slowly across the mouth of the cove doing its best to police a demarcation line between the crime scene and the small collection of pleasure boats and jet skis that had begun to gather as soon as word of the discovery had begun to spread around.

Turning her back on both the scene and the lake, she carefully made her way across the rough and uneven ground until she reached the small grouping of boulders set twenty-five yards away that she'd been directed towards and the solitary figure seated on them.

"I knew you were lying."

"Excuse me?" Looking up from the notebook he had been busily writing in, Grissom squinted in the bright afternoon sun.

"Telling everyone that you have absolutely no interest in returning to the lab when all this time you've been wandering around out here searching for crime scenes," Catherine's grin widened. "My offer of the supervisor's job is still open, Gil, all you have to do is accept it."

"Crime scenes are the last thing I'm looking for when I'm out here, Catherine," snapping his notebook shut, Grissom shoved it inside his pack. "And they're the last thing I want to find too, you can take my word on that."

"So," brushing the neighboring rock with the back of her hand, she settled herself beside him. "What were you doing out here?"

"Condition assessments," he told her as he slipped his reading glasses off and replaced them with sunglasses. "By regularly testing the soil and water around here we can determine just how healthy the lake is and, more importantly, identify and contain any problems, either naturally occurring or man-made, before things get out of hand."

"And by 'we' you mean the City?"

"The City, the Water Authority and the Park Service actually; it's a joint project. Everybody benefits by this place staying as clean and uncontaminated as possible which means about seventy-five percent of my worktime at the moment is spent filling in forms and writing reports but that's tempered by days like today when I get to come out here and take samples, check for bugs and reptiles and-"

"Find bodies?" Catherine suggested with a sarcastic grin.

"Not usually, no; this is the first one I've come across." He cocked his chin in the direction of the waterline. "I'm going to guess that she's the woman that disappeared from the bar last week."

"Yeah, that's her." Following his line of sight, Catherine watched as the coroner's assistants, one holding tightly to a rescue basket in place of their usual gurney, stood patiently just outside the tangle of bushes waiting to work their way in to retrieve the victim. "A vehicle went missing from the parking lot at around the same time that she did so we think she's probably disturbed whoever took it in the act." She shrugged. "The car turned up the next day at the Cannery casino and, while we got almost nothing on the guy that was driving it, we did find hair in the trunk that matched her DNA so, having her turn up dead isn't really that big of a surprise."

"Almost nothing on him?" Grissom queried.

"No prints or trace, he made a point of thoroughly wiping down both the inside and outside of the vehicle but we did manage to get him on tape, although the height of the cameras in that area coupled with the fact that he spent the entire time bent double was not particularly helpful." She began tapping out all the points of his description on the fingers of her left hand. "Blue jeans, grey t-shirt, ball cap, looks to be middle aged but could be older and height we can only guess at since he kept up the stoop all the way out of the parking lot, across Craig Road and into North Lawrence where he disappeared down a side road." She shrugged. "At this point we don't know if he has a bad back or he was just trying to keep his face hidden."

"He's not just hiding his face," Grissom posited, "no casino camera's going to give a clear shot of someone all the way across eight lanes of traffic so he's not going to keep it up for that; he was hiding something else." He thought for a moment. "And it can't be a bad back either, if it was he wouldn't have been able to get her into the car and then either drag or carry her all the way out here; not without help anyway."

"So what could he be hiding?" Staring down at the water's edge, Catherine watched as Mark Cronin accompanied by Kevin Crawford backed slowly out of the clump of bushes and stood off to one side to allow the coroner's men access. "And why bring her out here anyway? He left his earlier victims in places where they were pretty much guaranteed to be found within twenty-four hours or so but, if you hadn't been working here today, there's no telling when she'd have been discovered."

"Finding that out is your job, remember, not mine." Grissom shrugged. "She reeks of kerosene."

"I know," Catherine agreed. "So did the others; he never even attempts to light the stuff so I'm assuming he does it purely to destroy evidence…" she sighed dejectedly, "which it does. He smothered the first ones though; this one looks as though her neck has been broken."

"That could lend support to your theory that her killing was a spur of the moment thing," he suggested. "He had to keep her quiet and he had to do it quickly. How many others have there been?"

"She's the fifth," Catherine told him with a casual shrug. "And I'm hoping like hell that we'll get him before there's a number six." Turning slightly on her rock, she studied Grissom's profile with a frown of concern. "You don't so look well; you're not still sick, are you?"

"No, I'm fine," he told her with an exasperated roll of his eyes. "It's just turned into a much longer day than I was anticipating, that's all; I was supposed to pick Ben up from day care over two hours ago."

"Well, why didn't you say something before?" Catherine quickly pulled her cellphone from her pocket. "It'll be easy enough to find someone to run over there and get him," she looked up expectantly. "Who do you want me to call?"

"If you want to use your phone, you're going to have to hike at least halfway up the slope; cell reception is almost non-existent in these areas," Grissom bit back a grin at the look of abject horror his comment produced. "Which is what I had to do when I called 911 then, straight after that, I phoned Sara and let her know what was going on so, I'm quite sure that Ben will be happily playing at home by now."

"Well that's good." Putting her phone away again, Catherine retook her seat as she eyed the somewhat steep sides of the canyon. "But now you've got me wondering exactly how we're going to get our victim out of here." Turning slightly, she looked back in the direction she'd originally arrived from. "The walk in here was bad enough but three miles laden down with a body, evidence and all our equipment doesn't exactly sound like fun."

"You're not walking out," Grissom told her with a smile. "The rangers have one of their larger boats sitting just outside this cove so, when you're ready to go, they'll move in and pick you guys and the victim up and have you back at your vehicles in about five minutes."

"What about you?" Catherine frowned.

"Oh, I hope I'll be long gone by then," Grissom cocked his chin in Crawford's direction. "He said I'd be free to go once I'd given him a statement so, as soon as we've accomplished that, I'll head back out the way I came in." He shrugged. "Maybe I can make it home in time to spend at least some of the afternoon with my wife and son like I'd planned."

"You're not interested in hanging around for old time's sake?" she queried. "It's been a while; I'd have thought you missed things like this."

"You're joking, right?" Returning his gaze to the group of people still standing around about the lake shore, Grissom felt his stomach turn at the thought of any further involvement. "Like I said, I'm going home to my family."

"And, speaking of which," Catherine hesitated slightly before pressing on. "I had a call from Jim before I left the lab."

Grissom quickly swung his attention back to his companion. "About what?"

"About Sara actually, he told me that he'd spoken to you this morning and that you'd filled him in on the precautions we've put in place to ensure that she's safe at a scene but he wanted to know how I'd feel about pulling her from the field a little earlier than we'd agreed to."

"How much earlier?" Grissom frowned. "She's only got a few weeks left."

"I know and I did point that out to him," Catherine assured him, "but he seems to think that pulling her out now would be the smartest thing to do." She shrugged. "He's obviously gone home after talking to you, thought things over and slipped back into detective mode or something; he's always been protective of her, you know that."

"That makes it sound like I'm not," Grissom pointed out with a weary sigh. "Look, I get where he's coming from but, honestly, I think work-wise, she's as safe as we can make her. Sara wants as normal a pregnancy as she can possibly have which, in this case, means following her doctor's recommendations and not those that come from an over-protective Jim Brass." He chuckled. "Besides, if you pull her early, I'm willing to bet that I'm the one that'll get the blame." Turning towards her, he shook his head. "Let her have her two weeks, Cath, I think a familiar routine will actually be good for her; she's got people with her when she's in the field so I doubt she'd be any safer confined to the lab anyway." He shrugged and smiled. "Regardless of where she is, as long as those around her are aware of the possible dangers, I'm sure she'll be just fine."

"Well, I've started restricting her to easier cases anyway so we can carry on with that and see how things go," Catherine nodded her agreement. "I've got Mark lined up to replace her when she does step back from the field so, if we do need to pull her, I can shift him from Days to Grave anytime I need-"

Both heads turned as one as activity around the waterline suddenly ramped up and they watched as the victim was finally inched out of the mass of vegetation.

"Well, it's about time." Pushing to her feet, Catherine stretched as the coroner's men, helped by both Cronin and Crawford, carried the basket and its cargo clear of the scene and away from the prying eyes of their floating audience. "Now we can really get to work." Turning her back on the scene, she smiled. "I'll send Crawford back to take that statement from you so you can finally get home." Her smile morphed into a grin. "Unless, of course, you've changed your mind; the invitation's still there if you want to join us."

"No, thanks," Grissom gave his head a determined shake. "The last thing I want to do this afternoon is follow a murder investigation."

"Well don't forget the job offer," moving off, Catherine called back over her shoulder. "I'm holding it for you, remember."

"You're wasting your time," Grissom countered almost airily.

"I'll wear you down," picking up the pace, Catherine chuckled, "just you wait and see."

"No you won't," he commented to himself as he followed her progress down the slight rise they'd been sitting on to the clearing where the body had been placed for evidence retrieval. "Try as hard as you like and as long as you like but there's not a single thing on the face of this planet, Cath, that's going to make me change my mind."

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"

Dumping his backpack onto his office chair and his cell phone, wallet and car keys onto the desk, Grissom smiled as he heard both the excited voice and running feet approaching before a pair of small arms wrapped themselves around his left knee from behind and a solid little body pressed itself tightly to the back of his leg.

"Hey buddy," bending slightly, he loosened his son's hold and, with a well-practiced scoop, swung the little boy up before settling him securely in the crook of his arm. "I'm sorry I couldn't come pick you up; did you have a fun day?"

"Mmmm," with his mouth smeared with a thick white paste, Ben nodded his answer as he held up his equally decorated hands. "Yo-kwert."

"Afternoon snack time, huh?" Deciding to ignore the fact that his pants were now undoubtedly plastered with Stonyfield Organic vanilla yogurt, Grissom carried the little boy across the hallway towards to the kitchen. "Come on, let's go find Mommy."

"I'm sorry." In the midst of rinsing out the bowl her son had used, Sara quickly bent and placed it in the dishwasher then pushed the door closed before standing up with a grin. "The little devil took off before I could grab him and at least wipe his hands." Chucking the toddler under his chin, she leaned in and pressed a welcoming kiss to his father's lips. "Long day?"

"Too long." Settling Ben more comfortable on his arm, Grissom sighed. "I don't know how you did it, you know; going back to the job, I mean." He shook his head. "I was so glad to leave the lab when I did and now, having been at an active scene again, I know that I could never return to that world."

"You left when the time was right for you," Sara stated simply, "which is exactly the way people should draw the curtain on a career that they lived and loved for years." Leaning across the benchtop, she snagged a packet of baby wipes and pulled a couple free. "While, in my case, Natalie's actions forced me out before my time." Quickly wiping Ben's face and hands clean, she grasped him beneath the arms and placed him down on his feet before stepping in and wrapping her arms as far around Grissom's waist as the mound of her belly would allow. "As strange as it sounds, going back to it when I did helped me take the final steps of the healing process." She chuckled. "It didn't do much for our marriage, mind you-"

"It was the distance that did the damage there not the job," he pointed out, "and we worked it out eventually." Relaxing for, what felt like, the first time in days, Grissom placed his hands on her hips as Ben wandered off to his toy box. "Well, if nothing else, I now know there's no way I could even consider taking that supervisor's job."

"I never for a moment thought you would," she told him with a knowing grin. Sliding her left hand a little lower than her right, Sara traced the edge of his waistband until her fingers landed on the Glock's solid handgrip. "Ha, I found it; so much for concealed carry."

"Considering you knew it was going to be there I'm not entirely sure we can count that as a eureka moment," leaning forward, he kissed her forehead. "I've got to go and put it away."

"Well, you go do that and then Ben has something to show you out in the backyard," breaking the hold she had on him, Sara nodded down at his pants. "You might want to change those while you're in the bedroom though; it look like someone's been practicing his finger painting on them."

He'd just stepped back when the sound of his cellphone ringing drifted through from the office and, with weary sigh, Grissom shook his head. "Ten-to-one that's Catherine."

Realising just how tired he actually was, she waved him off. "You go, I'll get it and if it does turn out to be her, I'll say that you'll call her back tonight before shift." She shrugged. "I doubt there's any questions she could have for you that won't wait until then anyway."

Five minutes later, Sara entered the bedroom with Ben in tow; he'd come running at the sound of the caller's name and, although clearly miffed by her refusal to turn the phone over to him, he'd obediently followed after her as she'd left the office and made her way towards the other end of the house.

"You didn't have to come check on me." Pulling on a well-worn pair of chinos, Grissom smiled as the pair walked into the room. "I've locked it safely away, I promise."

"I'm sure you have; I, uh," she faltered slightly. "That was Glen on the phone."

"Glen?" Grissom frowned. "The girls okay?"

"Yeah, they're both fine; he was…" She felt a little hand touch her leg and leaning down, she scooped Ben up and held him tightly. "He was actually calling about Melissa."

"What on earth is he phoning about her for?" Grissom scoffed at the name. "Don't tell me, she needs bail money."

"No, no, it's nothing like that." Sara fought the sudden urge to cover her son's ears even though there was absolutely no way he could know that they were discussing the woman who'd abandoned him at birth. Running her fingers through his wavy hair, she took a deep breath before continuing. "She's dead, Gil, they got the call about an hour ago." Pressing a kiss to the top of her son's head, she met her husband's surprised stare with her own level one. "Melissa's dead."

A/N: Thanks, as always goes to SylvieT for the beta. :)