SLOW BURN

~ Chapter 24 ~

"So, you don't think there actually was someone in the house?"

"I don't see how there could have been." Ignoring the grilled chicken breast on his plate, Grissom poked through his garden salad and skewered a slice of cucumber. "Nothing's missing, nothing's been moved-"

"Except, of course, for Sara's shortbread which Ben miraculously managed to get down from the top shelf," Brass offered sarcastically.

After a lunch of lukewarm hotdogs and warm sodas followed by two rounds of mini golf, an hour spent at the Mandalay's Shark Reef aquarium and another hour at the M & M store, the two men had dropped three exhausted but happy children off at Jim and Helen's house before heading back into town in time for dinner at Grazier's Bar & Grill off Desert Inn Road where Brass had wasted little time in steering the subject back to Sara's nightmare and Ben's supposed visitor, a claim the little boy had stuck with despite repeated questioning.

"I'm pretty sure it was Sara herself that did that" Popping the cucumber in his mouth, Grissom chewed and swallowed before continuing. "I think she's grabbed the box at the same time she got Ben his snack and has then fallen asleep while the two of them were watching TV." He shrugged. "Ben's noticed the unguarded pack and decided to make the most of it."

"And his insistence that it was the 'big man'? Jim's eyebrows rose in question. "For him to use those particular words when the guy they're looking for – the same guy who took Sara from that parking lot – is described as a big man…" Both eyebrows rose in question. "Are you telling me that's a coincidence?"

"No," Grissom shook his head. "The only logical explanation is that Ben's heard the term, decided he liked it and used the 'big man' as his excuse for having something he knows he's not supposed to have."

"That sounds kind of weird to me."

"Well, it's not if you consider the fact that Sara has been known to talk in her sleep – not a lot and not all that often but when she does, it invariably has something to do with whatever's playing on her mind at that particular time and Greg had just been showing her photos of the guy, remember." Placing his fork down, Grissom reached for his drink. "I think there's a very real chance that, in the lead up to her nightmare, Sara's blurted out the words 'big man' and Ben's made him his scapegoat."

"Aren't we putting rather a lot of emphasis on Ben here?" Jim eyed him dubiously. "He's a toddler, Gil."

"Yeah, but kids tend to develop blame deflection behavior at around the age of three and he's not all that far off it." Glancing up, he saw the look of confusion on his friend's face and decided he'd better elaborate. "You know, 'I didn't do it, Freddie did' only Ben doesn't have a 'Freddie' to blame things on so he's gone for the 'big man' that his mother mentioned." He shrugged again. "Knowing my son's love of all things Sesame, he could just have easily blamed Big Bird instead."

Offering the theory a somewhat doubtful shrug, Jim carved another slice from his steak.

"Did you check the security footage?"

"There was none," Grissom ruefully admitted. "Apparently Sara turns the cameras off when she's at home." He held up a restraining finger to preempt the comment he knew was coming. "Which is something we've now talked about and it won't be happening again; those cameras will be staying on 24/7."

"Why the hell would she turn them off?"

"She says it's because she feels safe in the house especially with the knowledge there's a firearm on the premises but I think it's probably more of a privacy issue than anything. Unless the alarm has actually been triggered, no one at the security company can access either the cameras or the footage without our code but the knowledge that your every move is being recorded can still be a little disconcerting. I'm sure it'll all become second nature before long but even I feel kind of self-conscious with them up there watching us."

"I guess I can understand that," Jim conceded. "There's a heck of a big difference between knowing you're invariable on security cameras when you're out and about compared to being constantly filmed in the privacy of your own house but, right now, that's our best means of making sure all three of you are safe at home." He thought for a moment. "You can access them remotely, right?"

"The cameras?" Grissom nodded. "Yeah, I can pull up the live feed on my phone."

"Would Sara know if you were checking up on her with it?"

"No, not at all." He shook his head.

"Good." Jim nodded his approval. "You might want to consider looking in on her from time to time when she's at home and you're not; just to make sure everything's as it should be, after all, a little peace of mind never hurt anyone."

"Yeah," Grissom pushed his almost untouched plate away from him. "Maybe I'll do that."

"You know you're letting the side down, right?" Brass used the knife in his hand to gesture towards the abandoned plate. "It's bad enough that you bring me to one of the best steak places in the whole of Vegas and order the chicken but to then not even eat it…" He narrowed his eyes as he stared across the table. "I think you've been hanging around vegetarians too long."

"I only hang around with one vegetarian and she's never tried to influence me when it comes to eating meat." Grissom nodded towards what remained of Jim's filet mignon and lobster tail meal. "Whereas, if Helen were to see what you've just eaten, you'd never hear the end of her lecture about blocked arteries and the heart attacks they cause.

"Which is why I only eat things like this when she's not around." Jim grinned before narrowing his eyes at his dining companion. "Your stomach playing up?"

"A little but I think it's got more to do with that hot dog I ate than anything else; remind me to stay away from food carts in future." Grissom gestured over his shoulder towards the far corner of the room. "I'm going to hit the men's room; I'll be back in a minute."

Pushing through the door, he glanced about, thankful that no one else was there. Crossing over to the small wash stand, he grabbed a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and, wetting them thoroughly, quickly wiped around his face and neck. He felt sweaty yet cold and a glance in the mirror showed that his face looked a little pale. He'd been feeling queasy since mid-morning and the all too familiar heartburn had kicked in shortly after he'd eaten that hot dog which was, perhaps, not all that surprising considering the amount of onions and cheese the guy had heaped on it.

Dropping the balled up paper in the waste bin, he winced as a sharp pain shot through his upper abdomen. Similar to but stronger than the pain he'd felt prior to his collapse the week before, he held his breath and rode it out until it eased then, pressing his fingers against his neck, he felt for his pulse and counted it out, knowing from long experience that it was a little slower than normal.

He turned, leaning back against the sink and closed his eyes, trying to relax. He briefly contemplated calling Sara but decided against it, he'd worried her enough lately and, if there was one thing he was absolutely determined to do, it was to make this final eight weeks of her pregnancy as stress-free as possible. And besides, there was the wedding on Sunday afternoon to get through, he couldn't miss that but, if Sara - and undoubtedly Helen - knew how he was feeling at the moment, he wouldn't stand a chance in hell of being by his best friend's side as he finally married the woman he loved.

No, he decided as he turned back to stare in the mirror once again, he'd make it through the weekend and then, first thing Monday morning, he'd call his doctor himself and make another appointment. He'd already mentioned to Sara that he'd be spending the day on fieldwork so, fingers crossed, whatever it was would turn out to be another relatively easy fix and she'd never even have to know about this latest episode. All he had to do was hide the symptoms he was currently experiencing and, fingers crossed, not gain any new ones and no one, least of all his wife, would be any of the wiser until after he'd had it checked by Dr. Daniels next week.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the roll of Alka-Seltzer chews he'd taken to carrying, popped two in his mouth and hoped they, along with the Prilosec he'd taken earlier that morning would, at least, help to temper the decidedly uncomfortable burn that seemed to have set up home in his chest and throat.

Returning to the table moments later, he'd barely sat down on his chair before Brass started in.

"You sure you're alright?" The ex-detective stared openly across the table at him, "Maybe we should call it a day, huh? You can drop me off at my place and then head home and get a good night's sleep. It's been kind of a long afternoon anyway and dealing with three over-excited kids can take it out of you."

"I'm fine," reaching for his glass, Grissom took a quick sip. "I promise."

Jim eyed him warily before deciding to take him at his word. "It was a good afternoon, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was." Despite it being a somewhat unconventional bachelor party, Grissom honestly couldn't have thought of a better way to celebrate his friend's upcoming nuptials. "Thanks for including Ben today, he loved every minute of it."

"Like I was ever going to leave him out." Jim scoffed. "He's my family just as much as Dylan and Mia are," he smiled happily, "maybe a little more so since I've known him since day one." He gestured towards the window next to their table. "Do you have any idea what's under this place?"

"Downstairs?" Grissom cocked his head as he watched Brass lean closer to try and get a better look. "Why?"

"I was looking out there while you were gone and the amount of people I've seen park in that alley, walk up to this building and then disappear is weird," Jim shrugged clearly puzzled. "And, I'm not entirely sure but I think I recognized some of them." He turned back to Grissom. "You remember Sheriff Wilcox from way back? I swear I saw him get out of that Chrysler over there." He laughed. "You know, I've heard rumors for years about a secret club that I'm sure was supposed to be around here somewhere; it'd be just our luck to be sitting on top of the damn thing."

"A secret club?" Grissom sat back in his seat. "Really?

"Yeah, word has it that it was started up by some of the old school law enforcement guys back in the day and it's been going strong ever since; members only, naturally and word has it that the only way to get in is to be nominated by someone who's already a member and jump through a whole load of hoops."

"And what if I told you there was no jumping required."

Jim turned away from the window and stared. "What?"

Grissom smiled at the dumbstruck expression that met him. "Did you really think that my personal gift to you was just going to be a steak dinner?"

"Well, I…"

Pulling out his wallet, Grissom extracted a black plastic keycard with absolutely nothing on it except for a magnetic strip and, with a knowing grin, he held it out towards his friend. "Welcome to the club, Jim."

Carrying his soda can back through to the living room, Zephyr smiled happily to himself as he passed by the large wall-mounted television and the picture displayed there.

Thanks to the step-by-step instructions jotted down by the clerk that had sold him the USB to HDMI cable, instead of watching the usual mind-numbing fare offered up by the local stations, he now had access to what he was sure would quickly become his favorite TV program of all time.

Placing the can down on the small table beside his chair, he took a seat and, stretching his long legs out in front of him, propped them up on the coffee table, casually crossing one ankle over the other as he settled down to continue his viewing.

She was seated on the sofa now, just like he was, but she was eating not drinking and whatever it was she was watching on her television, she seemed completely and utterly enthralled.

The boy wasn't there now, she'd carried him out of the room over an hour ago, his head lolling on her shoulder as she'd conveyed him along the hallway and into what Zephyr knew, thanks to his all too brief visit the other day, was the kid's bedroom.

And, thanks to the access her security code had afforded him, he had followed her progress every step of the way.

Lifting his cellphone from the seat cushion beside him, he used the on-screen buttons to switch his view to the garage camera and checked that there was still only one SUV in there. Grissom wasn't home yet, a fact that niggled him slightly; given the amount of powder he'd put into the man's prescription vial, he really should be showing signs by now but, if he was out and about, he obviously wasn't and Zephyr wondered if another visit was going to be necessary.

Not that that would be all that difficult - thanks to Sidle he could now control the cameras, he could control the alarms and, most importantly, he could enter and exit the Grissom residence whenever he felt the need.

Switching his view back to the living room, he watched her sip from a water bottle before adjusting the cushion behind her and snuggle down further on the large modular lounge; she was clearly waiting for her husband's return but, judging by the yawn she was attempting to smother, Zephyr doubted she'd last the distance.

Shifting his own position slightly, he reached into his pocket and, pulling out the chain he'd been playing with for days, twirling it around and around his fingers as he kept his eyes locked on the screen.

He'd been watching them, almost constantly, since his visit to their home.

Witnessed them search each room looking for anything different, anything out of place, anything missing and, except for the box he'd placated the kid with, they hadn't found a single thing.

Leaning back in his seat, Zephyr smiled at the thought that he had, once again, outwitted the pair; his smile morphing into a satisfied grin as he watched the almost magical way the light from the TV screen caught the emerald and diamond pendant that he held.

A/N: Thank you, SylvieT