SLOW BURN

~ Chapter 18 ~

A/N: Sorry for the delay; all the end of financial year stuff that needs to be done tends to take a huge chunk out of my free time but this year it seemed to take it all however, it's all done and dusted now so we're good to go again. :)

Weaving his way around a slow moving cluster of his fellow passengers, Grissom exited the jet bridge into the bright lights of McCarran airport's terminal one and smiled to himself at the familiar squeal of excitement that came from somewhere off to his right. Turning, he watched as Ben pulled free of his mother's hold and, running as fast as he could manage, made a beeline from their place by the long wall of windows that looked out over the runways, past the lines of upholstered plastic seating, straight towards him.

Bending forward, he dropped his backpack at his feet and opened his arms wide just moments before the little boy launched himself into them, his own small arms wrapping tightly around his father's neck and, with one hand securely holding his son, Grissom grabbed his bag again and, standing upright, quickly moved them both out of the way of the flow of people behind.

He hugged Ben tightly to his chest, reveling in the feel of the toddler's body against his own; he'd been on edge ever since Glen's revelation the night before but this settled him instantly, the feel of his son in his arms and the sight of his grinning wife watching from the corner of the gate lounge, grounding him in a way that the aircraft he'd just disembarked from never could.

"Hey, buddy," pressing his face into the little boy's hair, Grissom breathed in his familiar smell. "Kiss?"

He smiled as Ben pulled back, puckered up and quickly obliged.

"I missed you," he hugged him close again as snapshots of his birth mother's Gainesville apartment played through his mind. "Have you been a good boy?"

Ben nodded emphatically before twisting in his hold and pointed back towards the windows. "Hairpanes!"

"I know," shifting his son's weight to his left arm, Grissom turned to look out through the glass. "I was just on one of those." He ran his free hand over his son's wavy hair. "I'm so happy to be back here with you though."

"And me, I hope."

Turning back, Grissom smiled at the sight of his approaching wife. "And you." Leaning in towards Sara, he pressed his lips to hers. "Had fun watching the hairpanes?"

"Great fun," she laughed as she teasingly poked her finger into Ben's midriff. "We particularly like watching them take off, don't we, Ben?" She sobered instantly as she took in her husband's weary-looking face. "You didn't get any sleep last night, did you?"

"Uh-uh," Grissom shook his head. "Too many things running through my head." Lowering Ben to the floor so he could still see out the window, he grabbed his hand and held on tight. "I have no idea what this is, Sara; I was obviously meant to find that woman's body the other day and Melissa's death was clearly meant as some sort of message because nothing else makes any sense but, for the life of me, I can't work out the who, what or why of it all." He shrugged helplessly. "I just don't know."

"I think you can join the club on that one." Sara's eyebrows arched in question. "What did you tell Glen?"

"Nothing, I didn't see the point," Grissom shook his head. "I'll fill him in on everything once we actually have something solid to go on but he's got enough on his plate right now, I don't see the point in adding this to it as well." He sighed wearily. "Anything new from Catherine?"

"Just a message this morning to say that she's been called to the D.A.'s office," Sara told him. "And that she'd drop by the house this evening to fill us in on what's happening in Florida; Greg flew out late last night which would have given him plenty of time to meet up with Detective Morrison before the autopsy got underway."

"Thank God for Conrad, huh?" Feeling Ben tug at his hand, Grissom let the little boy go, watching as he hurried the handful of feet to the stand right against the glass. "If it wasn't for his string pulling prowess the coroner would still have her scheduled for Sunday."

"From what I hear it took some doing; it was only when Ecklie suggested flying Doc Robbins out there to do it since they were so backlogged that they finally relented and moved her up." She checked her watch and mentally added three hours to allow for the time difference. "In fact, they're probably starting right about now."

"Good," he nodded. "Maybe that'll give us some kind of handle on whatever the hell this is." A delighted gasp came from the window beside them and, glancing across, Grissom watched as Ben bounced in excitement as a large United Airplane plane taxied its way across to the runway.

Despite the warmth of the sun streaming in through the glass, he shuddered. "If you'd seen the place she was living in, Sara; the place that he could have wound up."

"But he didn't, he's safe and happy here with us and there's no point in dwelling on what might have been." Taking her husband's hand she placed it over her abdomen. "Between Ben and this one, we'll have more than enough reality to come in our future so let's leave the past where it belongs." She smiled softly. "You know, the only thing we have left to do today is to take both our cars over to the dealership and pick up the Explorers so, how about we do that as soon as we get home and then we'll have the rest of the day to sit back, relax and enjoy some family time together."

"I'd like that," pulling in a deep refreshing breath, Grissom gently caressed the swell beneath his hand. "In fact, I think I need it."

"Pane!" Turning quickly from the window, Ben's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Daddy, lookit pane."

"But first," Grissom chuckled as he reluctantly pulled his hand away. "I have a hairpane to watch."

"And there I was thinking that kerosene smell would be unique to my crime scene." Parked in the shade of a large Southern Magnolia, Detective Morrison tore a large mouthful from the hot pastrami sandwich he'd picked up for lunch and chewed it thoughtfully before continuing. "I should have guessed that something like that was a little too out of the ordinary for Gainesville though," he swallowed and shrugged. "That's way more Vegas style, isn't it?"

"I'd like to say it isn't but, considering we've come across it at five other crime scenes so far, yeah, I guess it is." Balling up the wrapper of the smokehouse ham Panini he'd just finished, Greg reached for his coffee as he cocked his head towards the apartment complex up ahead. "So this is where she was found?"

"Yep, this is it," wiping his chin with a napkin, Morrison nodded. "I haven't given the okay for the pool area to be released yet so everything should be just as we left it." He glanced around their surroundings. "It's a nice area here; being away from the town center means there's a lot less traffic and noise than most of the places around here get."

"How many apartments?"

"Twenty-four in total, there's four three-story blocks with six apartments in each." Tossing his now-empty wrapper onto the center console, the detective reached for his door handle. "Come on, I'll give you the grand tour."

Walking through the well-maintained grounds of the Stonebridge Apartments, Greg ignored much of Morrison's prattle as he looked around his surroundings with interest; set on a large corner block, a wide pathway led them towards the apartments themselves before branching off towards the fenced pool area and a residents-only parking lot off to the side. The majority of the landscaping was comprised of small to medium-sized shrubs and bushes with the occasional savannah holly offering pockets of shade from the hot Florida sun.

Stopping just before the pool gate, Greg turned to look back at the four buildings with interest.

"Are you sure no one saw anything?" Using his hand to shield his eyes from the bright glare, he scanned the surrounding area. "There's really nothing here to hide behind; this whole space is essentially open to view."

"Had this happened at almost any other apartment block in Gainesville, Facebook would have been littered with blow-by-blow photos and videos of the whole thing as it happened but most of the residents living here are professionals who are trying to get away from the college element and, since they tend to be an older and definitely wiser lot, most if not all of them were sound asleep when this thing went down." Morrison shrugged. "A security company does a drive-by a couple of times a night but they never saw anything out of the ordinary.

"Cameras?"

"One in the lobby of each building pointed at the door and another in the carpark but not in a position that helps us – your man's either scouted this area out thoroughly or got extraordinarily lucky," he shrugged as a small smile played about his lips. "Or he knew the place from past experience."

Keeping his back to the man, Greg smiled; ever since the detective had picked him up at the airport that morning, and throughout the post mortem they'd both just attended, he'd been courteous and friendly but he'd also laced their interactions with none too subtle hints as to exactly where he thought the investigation needed to go.

"We canvassed every single resident and no one saw or heard a thing," Morrison continued. "We're speculating that he probably brought her here sometime between two and three in the morning; whether she was alive or dead at the time though is another question."

"If he's following his usual pattern, she'll have been dead," pushing open the gate, Greg entered the pool area. "All of the bodies we've found have been dumped after the fact." He looked back at Morrison. "Is there any reason to think that she was alive when he brought her here?"

"No, not that I know of." Pulling the gate closed behind him, the detective skirted Greg and moved towards the far side of the concrete pool. "She was found by one of the residents when he returned from his morning run." He pointed back towards the path they'd just traversed. "He heads out that way every morning at six, runs a mile or so west of here and then swings around to come back in through the parking lot. The sun was up by the time he got back so he saw her lying on one of the sun loungers and came over to see if she was okay, took one look and then called us."

"So the only real difference between Vegas and here is that he left Melissa Collins in a place where she'd be seen." Speaking more to himself than Morrison, Greg looked first at the parking lot area and then back towards the buildings. "The question we have to answer is why."

"Attention I imagine." Morrison opined as he watched the younger man. "It looks to me to be a targeted kill and it also looks like he wanted her found." He took a breath. "Your last victim was discovered in a cove at Lake Mead, correct?"

"That's right," Greg nodded. "We found her the day before yesterday."

"We," Morrison queried, "or Gil Grissom?"

"It was Grissom," Greg clarified as he squatted down to more closely examine a dark stain on the stamped concrete pool surround. "And, to be honest, we really lucked out that he did; if he hadn't been working in that particular area, we'd probably still be looking for her now."

"And don't you find it suspicious that Mr. Grissom finds a dead woman in Vegas one day and is out here helping to identify the body of his son's mother the next?"

"You know, if it was anybody else I probably would." Deciding that what he was staring at was simply a rust mark, Greg pushed to his feet. "But, trust me, if you're trying to line Gil Grissom up for either of these murders then you're so far off base you might as well be in another ball park." Unable to hide his amusement, he grinned. "Aside from anything else, there's simply no way he flew out to Gainesville, murdered Melissa Collins and then made it back home again without someone noticing he was gone." Greg shook his head and laughed at the thought. "Seriously Detective, he's got a great wife, a great kid and another on the way, there's no way he's going to jeopardize all of that."

"He was very forthcoming about his relationship with Melissa Collins when he was talking to me," Morrison shrugged nonchalantly. "And the thing that struck me most was the fact that he really didn't seem to care that she was dead."

"Well, that doesn't surprise me," Greg countered. "After all, she did abandon Ben on the day he was born so that's bound to have colored any feelings Grissom had towards her. I imagine her ex-husband probably feels the same way; have you got him lined up as a suspect too?" Leaning casually against the pool fence, Greg offered him a conciliatory smile. "Look, of all the people I've worked with in law enforcement, actually…" he corrected himself, "you could probably change that to of all of the people that I've ever known, I think Gil Grissom would be right up on top of my list of those least likely to turn homicidal. However, if he were to go down that route, I have absolutely no doubt that there would be zero evidence left behind for us to find; in fact, I'm pretty damned sure he'd actually come up with some way to make the thing look like a perfectly natural event so murder would be the last thing anybody even considered."

"So what?" Morrison asked, his exasperation growing by the second. "He's beyond reproach?

"No, not at all," Greg shook his head. "But to me it looks more like someone's trying to put him somewhere that he doesn't belong." He shrugged. "Although I do think both the circumstances and timing are suspicious, I don't for a moment believe Gil Grissom had anything to do with Melissa's death. However, I'm sure that, as part of the normal investigation into this crime as well as the others, he'll be questioned about any involvement he may or may not have just like any other possible suspect."

"Well, I should hope so," Morrison answered, his annoyance only slightly appeased. "And while you're asking him about that you might also want to see if he has any idea why the body of his son's birth mother was dumped in the grounds of the same apartment complex that he used to call home."

"Apartment Nine." With one eye on the mug full of hot coffee in his hand and the other on the obstacle course of discarded toys that currently littered both the kitchen and surrounding areas, Grissom made it to the dining table without any serious mishaps. "Second building, second floor."

Placing the mug down in front of Catherine, he pulled out a chair and took a seat before continuing.

"I lived there for a little over fourteen months; the funding was pulled from the project I'd been working on and my lease had reverted to a month-to-month after the first year so I paid the landlord a month's rent in lieu of notice and left for Arizona as soon as everything was packed up." He shook his head. "I don't think Melissa knew that I lived there although, working in administration, I don't suppose it would have been too hard for her to find out."

"We have no way of knowing if she was the one that told him where you'd lived or he found that out himself but, at least, we do know it's definitely our guy that killed her." Raising the mug, Catherine took a cautious sip. "According to Greg it has all of the hallmarks so, what we need to work out now is exactly why it is he's trying to draw you into the investigation."

"By making me a suspect?" Grissom smiled at the thought. "You know, I think it's the first time I've ever been one of those."

"Well, Greg went in to bat for you so I don't think you're still number one on Detective Morrison's hit list but given who the victim was and where she was found, it was a fair assumption for him to have made."

"It was," Grissom agreed with a nod. "Greg's flying back tonight?"

"Yeah," she checked her watch. "He's booked on the 7:30 flight out of Gainesville so I guess that means he's already on his way. I wanted him to stay over and catch a flight in the morning but he insisted on leaving tonight, he said he never has any trouble sleeping on planes and he knows we're kind of shorthanded at the moment so -"

"I can come in tonight if you need me, Catherine." Carrying a freshly-bathed Ben, Sara entered through the kitchen. "I might be confined to the lab but I can, at least, take some of the load off you guys."

"There's no need, really," with a smile of thanks, Catherine shook her head. "I've already arranged backup from Swing should we need it so, provided it's a relatively normal night I think we'll be fine." She held out both hands to Ben. "Come here, Tiger; I haven't had my hug yet."

"He's tired and a little grumpy," Sara warned as she swung the little boy off her hip and, placing him down, watched as he ran around the table to Catherine. "It's been a long day."

"Tell me about it!" Catherine rolled her eyes as she picked Ben up and quickly enveloped him with both arms. "I had to spend half of it at the D.A.'s office."

"That would have been fun." Grissom commented sarcastically.

"Oh it was." Nuzzling the side of her captive's neck, Catherine grinned as the toddler broke into a fit of the giggles. "Especially since it was Maddie Klein that summoned me." She looked across at Grissom. "Did you know she's going to take a run at the top job?"

"No but it doesn't surprise me," Grissom shrugged. "She's been a deputy D.A. for years now and with McEwan finally retiring, it makes sense that she'd want to throw her hat into the ring."

"I wouldn't mind so much if she wasn't so damned abrasive." Placing an affectionate kiss on the top of Ben's head, she let him slip down off her lap and watched as he scooted his way across to a nearby toy car. "She told me she wants to make sure she's up to speed on as many open cases as she can then, when I've finished filling her in, she all but demands that we work harder so she has more opportunities to look good." She shook her head in amazement. "How the hell you stayed friends with her all those years, I'll never know."

"She's not so bad once you get to know her."

"Well give me some tips here," Catherine prompted. "Because, God knows, if she gets the job I'm going to need them."

"I think the most important thing is to never show fear because that is something that Maddie feeds on." He shrugged. "And that is, undoubtedly, the attribute that's going to make her a damned good district attorney."

"You think she'll get the job?" Sara asked.

"I wouldn't doubt it for a minute," he winced and, raising his hand, rubbed it almost absently against his sternum. "What Maddie wants Maddie gets… one way or another."

"What's with the chest?" Catherine nodded towards his hand. "Are you having chest pains?"

"No," Grissom quickly shook his head. "Just heartburn, that's all; it came on kind of suddenly."

"Are you sure?" Sara frowned.

"Positive," He quickly assured her. "I know heartburn when I feel it, honey."

"Well, it's not like you've really eaten much," Sara was clearly not convinced. "A cheese and tomato sandwich for lunch and that's about it."

"Tomatoes can do it," Catherine commented. "And some cheeses too I believe; I think it's to do with the lactose." She smiled. "Heartburn's a funny thing, I remember Eddie used to eat chili that could strip paint without a problem but give him a piece of buttered toast and he was in agony all day." She turned to Grissom. "You got some antacid?"

"Yeah," pushing his chair back, he got to his feet." There should be some in the bathroom; I'll be back in a minute."

"I come!" Toys instantly forgotten, Ben scrambled up off the floor and ran after his father.

"He's been his father's shadow ever since we got home; I think he wants to make sure Gil doesn't disappear on him again." A dull thump sounded from further back in the house and Sara shrugged. "Not surprising I suppose; a day and a half is a long time to a two year old."

"Gil looks kind of pale."

"He didn't sleep last night so that makes two in a row, I'll make sure he goes to bed early tonight." She nodded towards Catherine's mug. "You want a top up?

"No thanks, I should be making tracks soon; I want to get to the office early and make sure everything's set for the night." She looked up as Ben wandered back into the room. "Hey big guy, that was quick."

Sara turned in her seat just in time to lift her son up onto her lap. "What's the matter, baby; did Daddy send you back?"

"No," Ben shook his head. "Daddy sleep."

Giving him a quick squeeze, Sara chuckled. "I know Daddy needs to sleep but I don't think he's quite so rude as to do it when we've got a guest." She brushed his hair back off his forehead. "I know, how about we go see what he's doing together?" Easing him off her knee, she looked across at Catherine with a knowing grin. "It's one of their games; Gil pretends to be sound asleep until Ben wakes him up." She took her son's hand. "But I guess someone wasn't in the mood to play; we won't be long."

She led him through the kitchen, along the hallway and then let him pull free to run ahead of her towards the open door a half dozen steps away. Entering moments later, the smile of amusement slipped instantly from Sara's face at the sight of her husband – unconscious and bleeding profusely – face down on their bedroom floor.

A/N2: Thanks as always goes to SylvieT for the beta of this chapter.