SLOW BURN

~ Chapter 22 ~

A/N: Just when you thought you'd seen the last of me, huh? ;)

I felt the need, for my sanity and for yours, to have a little buffer to fall back on with this story so that's what I've been working on and what I'll keep working on because I'd actually like to make that buffer a little larger than just the one chapter that it's currently sitting at. I wasn't going to post this at all until I had number 24 in the can but a couple of people have asked about the next update recently and I've always had a very overdeveloped sense of guilt so here it is. Thanks for your patience.

Seated in one of the lab's smallest offices, Sara raised the granola bar to her mouth and nibbled idly at one corner as she stared at the computer screen before her.

Some of the open cases she was currently wading through were ones she'd personally worked on and, as such, took only a brief scan to remind her of where it was the investigation had stalled whilst others she'd had no input on at all and could take hours of meticulous reading and note-taking before she could make a decision as to what, if anything, needed to be submitted for renewed investigation.

She took a larger bite before pushing the bar down into its wrapper and placing it on the desk and was busily scrolling through to the summary pages of the autopsy report she was reviewing when a sudden sharp twinge in her back made her suck in her breath and reach around to rub briskly at her lower spine.

"Sore back?"

"A bit." Glancing sideways, she smiled almost sheepishly at her visitor. "I think I've been sitting here too long."

"Knowing you, you probably have." Leaning casually against the doorframe, Catherine nodded towards the screen. "I could have sworn that the deal we had was that you leave here on time at the end of shift not that you hang around after everyone else has left."

"It was and I usually do but, this morning, I'm waiting on my ride." Sara checked her watch. "Which is now almost twenty-five minutes late."

"He's probably hit traffic; you know what the interstate's like at this time of the morning." Stepping fully into the office, Catherine perched herself on the edge of the desk. "Scan day?"

"Yeah, one of the few perks of getting classed as being of…" Sara drew air quotes with her fingers, "… 'advanced maternal age' means you get to see your growing baby a lot more often than the average mother-to-be." She smiled happily. "Ben's coming with us for this one; we thought it was about time he got to meet his sibling in something more than still pictures so that should be interesting."

"You've been preparing him?"

"As much as we can," Sara nodded. "We've been trying to include the baby in a lot of our conversations with him plus he helped us finish off the nursery yesterday and he's also been spending a little time in with the daycare babies on the days that he's there; apparently he's gone from afraid to curious to wanting to help feed them so I'm hoping that means we're not going to have any problems."

"I don't think you will, he's got to be one of the most easygoing kids I've come across," Catherine chuckled. "Lindsay at that age was an absolute terror and I could only imagine the drama we'd have hit if we'd presented her with a little brother or sister but, I'm willing to bet, that Ben will just go with the flow. So," she gestured towards the computer screen. "How's this going?"

"So far, almost all of the cases I'm planning to submit for retesting come from Days way back when," Sara shrugged. "Compared to Swing and Grave shifts from the same period, it's the one that seems to have relied a lot more on theory and supposition than actual evidence when it comes to working some of their cases."

"Days way back when, huh? Catherine's eyebrows arched up. "Do I want to guess who was supervisor then?"

"Considering the position he now holds, I don't think that would really be smart. There's one in particular that I've flagged for review," Sara rifled through the paperwork on her desk before pulling out a manila folder. "I've already gone through it and, from one simple read, I think there's more than enough in there to identify the perpetrator; I really don't know how it wasn't picked up at the time."

"You remember what that shift was like back then, high staff turnover coupled with a boss who always seemed more interested in climbing ladders than solving cases especially if they weren't particularly high profile ones." Catherine sighed. "Thank god he finally fell into a job he's good at." She cocked her chin towards the file. "Put it to the top of the list and if your theory pans out we'll go give Mr. or Mrs. "Looks like I got away with it' one hell of a blast from the past." She glanced at the screen and, with a frown, pointed towards eight shaded filenames. "Are those locked?"

"Yeah," Sara cocked her head as she stared at the screen before her. "I was going to ask you about that; I swear they weren't the last time I was in this folder."

"Well that's strange." Bending forward Catherine used the mouse to highlight one of the files and quickly double tapped it only to have a password box pop up; she typed in her password and looked on with a confused frown as an error box appeared. "What the hell?" She shook her head clearly perplexed. "Leave it with me and I'll check with I.T.; it's got to be some kind of glitch."

Movement down the corridor caught her attention and, turning her head, she smiled.

"I think your ride is here."

"Mommee!"

Pulling his hand free from his father's grip, Ben set off at a run, hurriedly bypassing three other office doorways before almost throwing himself through his mother's and scrambling his way up onto her lap.

Wrapping her arms around her son, Sara laughed. "Miss me?"

"Yes!" With a determined nod of affirmation, Ben clasped his arms firmly around Sara's neck as he buried his face against her shoulder.

"I missed you too, baby." Returning the hug, Sara looked up with a smile as Grissom entered the office. "Running late?"

"Yeah, a two car collision just south of Tropicana has everything backed up but we have plenty of time." Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers before standing upright again with a grin. "Hi Cath."

"Hi yourself." Smiling in welcome, Catherine nodded towards her friend. "You certainly look better than the last time I saw you."

"I feel better too," Grissom stated happily. "A change of meds and a couple of days of enforced rest have worked wonders."

"That's good; you had us all worried for a while there." Reaching across, she tapped Ben on the shoulder. "Hey tiger, do I get one of those?"

Turning on his mother's lap, the little boy nodded earnestly as he held out his arms; an invitation Catherine was more than happy to accept as she scooped him up into her own. "Boy, you're getting big," she shifted his weight a little as he hugged her tightly. "So, your mommy tells me that you're going to see someone special today."

Pulling his head back, Ben's eyes instantly lit up. "Lee Lee?"

"No, not Lily," Catherine chuckled. "Although she's going to be thrilled when I tell her you think she's someone special." With her free hand, she ruffled the little boy's hair. "I'm not sure what Lily has planned for today but-"

"Lunch with the girls followed by a movie." Grissom butted in. "She phoned last night to ask if she could have Ben on Tuesday instead of Wednesday next week; apparently, one of her neighbors is having her grandkids over for the day and both she and Lily thought a playdate with Ben will keep them occupied for a while." He turned to Sara. "Which works in perfectly with my plans since I'd already agreed to go suit shopping with Jim that day."

"For the wedding?" Catherine frowned. "The two of you are leaving it a bit late, aren't you? It's only a week and a half away."

"Actually, Helen's already picked out everything for us so all we have to do is turn up to make sure it all fits."

Catherine chuckled. "So, she's not letting Jim have any say in what he wears?"

"I believe he's allowed to choose his own socks," Grissom answered with a grin. "I think he joked about powder blue tuxedos and ruffled shirts once too often."

"Which reminds me…" turning, Sara shut down her computer. "I still have to find something that I can squeeze into."

"You're not nearly that big, you know." Catherine pointed out.

"There are times when I feel it." Tidying the pile of files on her desk, she turned back, both eyebrows raised in question. "I don't suppose you know anywhere that sells maternity clothes that are suitable for a garden wedding, do you? I'm probably only going to get one wear out of it so I don't really want to spend too much."

Actually, I have a friend that sells designer clothing on consignment and I'm sure she'd have maternity stuff in there; I'll give her a call and see if she can help you out if you like."

"That would be great," pushing herself to her feet, Sara held her hands out towards Ben. "Come on you; you can help me grab my things from my locker and then we'd better get out of here."

"Can I have a quick word with you first, Gil?" Catherine deliberately kept her tone light as she ensured the little boy was firmly on his feet before letting him go. "It's nothing important; it'll only take a minute."

"Sure," Grissom nodded before looking across at Sara. "You two go ahead, I'll meet you at reception." He watched as Sara and their son made their way down the corridor and disappeared around the corner before turning back. "So, what's up?"

"The Gainesville coroner has finally released Melissa's autopsy report." Pulling Sara's chair around, Catherine took a seat. "Cause of death has been confirmed as asphyxiation and, while she had more than her fair share of alcohol in her system, toxicology has come back negative for drugs."

"Well, as far as I know, drugs were never her thing anyway so…" Grissom shrugged. "It's not really telling us anything we don't already know."

"True," she conceded, "but I thought I'd fill you in anyway. Greg requested that her face be swabbed for traces of Midazolam but that was a bust as well." She shrugged. "A long shot, I know especially considering how quickly the stuff disappears, but he thought it was worth a try."

"So, in short, there was no evidence on, in or around her body that's going to help us identify whoever the hell it was that killed her." He cocked his head. "Has there been any further sign of him?"

"Nothing since New Mexico, no." Catherine shook her head almost apologetically. "The three cars that were stolen in Albuquerque that afternoon all turned up within a couple of hours and Greg spent an entire shift working through the security footage from the bus and train stations as well as Albuquerque airport with absolutely no luck so that only leaves driving and he's ruled out every rental agency that services that area as well."

"He managed to get a ride of some sort," leaning back against the partition wall behind him, Grissom shrugged. "Given the amount of traffic in that area I don't suppose it would be all that hard to get picked up."

"Or to use your magic spray and simply take a vehicle and its driver," Catherine added. "Which could mean we're looking for another missing person as well." She sighed heavily. "I've got to tell you, Gil, there are times when I get the feeling that we're hunting a ghost."

"I remember that feeling," he thought for a moment. "You know, there is something a little more tangible than a ghost that you could try hunting."

"Such as?"

"The drug," he answered simply. "Midazolam can only be used under close medical supervision so it's not something you can just walk into your local Walgreen's and pick up; which means he has to be getting it from either a hospital or some sort of medical practice that uses it for in-house procedures. He has to have access to decent quantities of it too; there's no way it would be effective as a spray if he watered it down so maybe if you find his source, you'll find your man."

"That makes sense; I'll have Greg make a start on it tonight." She cocked her chin towards the now-empty corridor. "The two of you are still taking precautions, right?"

"Of course, Catherine." Grissom rolled his eyes at the question. "New house, new cars, new security system and, to top it all off, unless we're at home, both Sara and I are armed at all times." He tapped the slight bulge on his hip to make the point. "I'm really not sure how much more we could do."

"Just keep to the instructions Jim gave you, be extra careful when you're driving and if you so much as suspect someone may be following you, call 911." Catherine ordered. "Between the two of you, you've given us enough frights lately so I think the policy from here on out should be better safe than sorry, okay?"

"Yes, Mother." Shaking his head at the 'advice', Grissom offered her a sarcastic grin. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," bristling slightly at his glibness, Catherine narrowed her eyes as she fixed him with a no -nonsense glare." It might be an idea if you give your wife a back rub when the three of you get home today, she's feeling it this morning and I remember, only too well, what that kind of backache is like."

Grissom sobered instantly. "She's all right?"

"She's fine." Catherine softened her tone. "It's simply the weight of the baby and the fact that her posture is changing to accommodate it - the third trimester is famous for it and the best therapy is undoubtedly a relaxing bath and an even more relaxing massage." She grinned. "Trust me, you'll earn some major brownie points on the good husband scale."

"There is such a thing?" he asked dubiously.

"Of course there is, some of us barely even saw their husband make it out of single figures but I'm willing to bet you're a completely different kettle of fish than Eddie was." Pushing to her feet again, she placed a guiding hand on his arm. "Now, go and find your wife and son; some of us still have work to do around here."

They'd both just cleared the office doorway when she spoke again.

"Oh, and if you happen to find out what sex that baby is during the scan I'd appreciate being let in on the secret especially since I'm the one responsible for buying the lab's gift for the kid."

"I can't see it happening, Cath; Sara's pretty set on it being a surprise for everyone including us." Stepping away from her, Grissom turned with a grin "And besides, after having the news of the pregnancy go public less than twelve hours after you were sworn to secrecy, if we were to find out whether the baby's a girl or a boy, I'm pretty damned sure that you'd be the last person around here that we'd share it with."

The bright yellow plaque attached to the front of the house had caught his eye as he'd guided the white GMC van around the arc of the quiet cul-de-sac and, safe in the knowledge that the premises was empty, Zephyr had slowed to little more than a crawl as he'd read the black printed message it carried - 'Protected by ABR Security'.

Pulling to a halt one house down from the Grissom residence, he turned in his seat, staring out through the windows set in the Savana's rear doors. He'd been told that it was coming but he hadn't expected it to happen quite so quickly although, given both their links to law enforcement, perhaps the fact that it did really shouldn't have been so surprising.

Turning back, he sighed in a mixture of anger and frustration, he needed access to that house and he needed it soon; the sight of an all too healthy-looking Gil Grissom wandering out to collect the newspaper earlier had made that all too obvious. The man should have been reacting by now, he should have been sick and weak and completely incapable of driving both himself and his son northwards on the interstate as Zephyr, who'd made sure to keep at least two vehicles between them as he'd shadowed him all the way to the on ramp, knew he currently was.

Something had gone wrong and he was determined to find out what it was and why and why it happened.

He sat for a moment pondering his options: provided Sidle was at home alone, getting inside the house itself wouldn't be a problem but the approach to the building – and the exterior cameras that he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, would now be there – was where the danger lay. He had no way of knowing if they'd be operational around the clock and, if they were, where any footage of his visit was likely to be stored and, even more worrying, who, if anyone, was likely to see it.

There was only one place he'd find answers to those questions, he decided, and now was as good a time as any.

He took a deep breath to calm himself and, exhaling slowly, reached across to the passenger seat for his cellphone, pulled up the search engine and quickly began to type; seconds later, he selected the handset's keypad and tapped in the number he'd just looked up.

The phone rang three times before it was answered with a jaunty tone.

"Good morning, ABR Security; how may I help you?"

A/N2: Thanks, as always, goes to SylvieT for the beta.