A/N: We were hoping for an announcement of a CSI reunion-got sort of one from Anthony Zuiker but the planned date would be mid-late 2021. SO-no reason to wait that long. This story is a follow-up to 'In My Thoughts' which ended as a cliff-hanger. Enjoy!

In Search of Truth (continuing In My Thoughts)

Chapter 1

The pink and purple dust of twilight was behind Sara while points of light were beginning to blossom across the horizon. Ahead of her, driving across the desert, she would see the starry sky before arriving in Las Vegas. Softly, she chuckled as she thought of the nights when the electric garden of the city overpowered the millions of stars in the universe.

They—her husband and children—were driving to Vegas for a few weeks. To help. To lend a hand. To solve a problem. Just as she had done twenty years before when Gil Grissom had called her. This time the call had come from two judges and the sheriff; they had talked to Grissom first because he'd answered her phone. Then she'd spent over two hours on the phone listening, asking questions, unsure of why she'd been called.

It had taken all three to convince her she was needed—that she was the right person. Five years after closing the door on the life she'd had in Las Vegas, they knew she could find the truth.

The conversation had finally progressed to details of housing and small children.

"You'll make your own hours, your own time," Conrad Ecklie assured her.

Judge Madeline Klein promised, "I'll find housing—I'll move out of my house. You can stay there! We've got to find the source and so far we are up against a brick wall."

Ecklie added, "We'll set Grissom up to give seminars on insects and dead bodies—that's the official story. You'll be here to help with backlog—as you know, we've always been short-handed. The real purpose of your work will be kept quiet—you'll pretty much be in a conference room with a computer and stacks of files." He promised a new employee, an expert in computers, would be at her side to help.

She knew the three officials had discussed the situation for hours before calling her. And when her husband nodded his head, she told them she would come.

Four days later, in late afternoon, they had packed their vehicle with bags and food and three little ones to drive east into the night; reasoning the children would sleep for most of the hours' long drive. Her husband had driven for two hours, barely out of Los Angeles, when they had stopped for a break; then she had taken the driver's seat.

Within minutes, the baby was asleep. A well-watched cartoon played on the small screens for another ten minutes before her older children drifted into sleep. Her husband had talked for a few minutes before he pushed the seat back, saying, "I'm going to close my eyes for a few minutes. Wake me to drive."

In the quiet vehicle, Sara sang along with an old song on the radio as she drove. The interstate wasn't deserted, but neither was it busy compared to the bumper-to-bumper traffic leaving Los Angeles. Cars, buses, transport trucks overtook her vehicle, racing to a destination in the east.

Sara enjoyed driving the minivan—not a stylish selection but a vehicle that served well for her family. Everett was delighted to have a third-row seat to himself even if it was packed with bags and toys. The two girls were behind her; she could check the baby with a glance in the mirror and Libby was sleeping well with a stuffed dog circling her neck.

Sara seldom had time to think, seldom had a quiet hour so driving while her family slept was welcome. And gave her time to reflect on why she'd been called.

Her best friend was not in Vegas, no longer lab director. Greg Sanders had decided twenty years in the Las Vegas crime lab was enough; he'd taken an official leave with no intention of returning, finding work with the University of Olso in a DNA research project studying Vikings—or burials of Vikings. He was somewhere in Greenland taking samples of bones that had been buried between 700 and 1000 C.E.

Greg knew about the problem in Las Vegas and had encouraged Sheriff Ecklie to call Sara. "You can do this, Sara," he'd said. "It's been going on for at least six months. The first time, everyone thought evidence had been misplaced but then it happened again about a month later. Two or three weeks later, it was a big murder trial—everyone searched—never found the evidence, never found most of the crime scene photos. Disappeared as if they never existed. Trial ended in a mistrial. After that, a team went into evidence lockers and files and nearly tore the place apart. Hours were spent looking at security tapes and found nothing suspicious—a month later, happened again."

Upon hearing from Grissom that they would be coming to Vegas for two weeks or so, Catherine Willows had immediately offered her house as a temporary home. The official story was never questioned as Catherine went into full-blown hostess-mode.

When Sara told Catherine the sheriff had asked her to work on the backlog of cases, Catherine's response had been, "Why doesn't he ever hire enough people?" And promptly offered to bring in an excellent nanny for Sara's children.

Sara hesitated, thinking she would work at night, then accepted Catherine's offer. It would be easier to work if another pair of eyes were on her kids.

Sara kept driving, much longer than she'd planned, as her husband and children slept. The diffused glow on the horizon gradually brightened to announce the first casino at the Nevada state line and she knew she was fifty minutes to their destination.

As she drove, she thought about the problem at the crime lab—complicated because of the dozens of people who had access to evidence. Even more puzzling was why no one had been able to find who was taking—or destroying physical evidence. Or why. Not just physical evidence, a missing knife, vanished clothing, but crime photographs—originals and the back-up copies.

For the rest of the trip, she went through a dozen scenarios, imagining ways one person might wipe out original and duplicate photographs or remove evidence from file boxes with security cameras everywhere. She was going to look at everything again—fresh eyes, one of the judges had said.

Grissom stretched and opened his eyes, looking at the lights of the city in surprise and amazement. He said, "You were supposed to wake me! We're here already."

Sara laughed, saying, "You were having such a good nap. Better call Catherine and tell her the tribe has arrived."

Pulling out his phone, he chuckled. "This should be interesting."

A/N: Thank you for reading! Now...leave a comment for us!