Chapter Fifteen: Conclusions

"Willows."

Catherine glanced up as the man came, hardly raising an eyebrow in invitation. Instead she brought the cup to her lips, draining the rest of the liquid that remained there. It was her fourth cup in under an hour, and at this point in time the only thing that was keeping her going. "What can I do for you?"

The supervisor frowned, arms folding as he dropped the paper on the table in front of her. "I just received this fax from the LV Crime Lab. Phone record confirmations? I thought we agreed that the case was off limits for you and your partners."

Mentally Catherine cursed Grissom for doing such a thing. Of course he didn't know exact details, but still she would have though he had enough sense not to fax them straight over. She forced a smile, one that was more smug than apologetic. "Actually, Mr. Stevenson, it was you who decided that for us. And to make it clear, you stated that neither I nor Nick could work on the investigation. You said nothing about those back in Vegas. Thirdly, the case is now back on our own turf, if you check the call records. Therefore it is still within our jurisdiction."

He wanted to respond with a rebuff, but was unable, knowing that she hit around all the corner without directly stepping inside. He was angry, yes, but he would let it pass for now. With a breath he sat down across from her, arms resting on the table. "I need you're help."

She blinked, thoroughly surprised. "You wanted to chase us away, trying to scare us with petty threats, and now you want our help?"

There wasn't a response; it wasn't like she was expecting one. Instead he placed the folder on the table, opening it as he slid it forward for her to see. "Number's a disposable Cell Phone…it's untraceable."

"You want me to find out who it is," Catherine said mildly. "How do you propose I do that?"

"Robin was found wandering the side roads nearly an hour ago, without explanation to his whereabouts for the last forty-eight hours. They're bringing him into interrogation now for questioning."

"I thought Robin was cleared from the list of suspects," she replied mockingly. She could see him shift uncomfortably.

"After following the evidence," he stated quietly, "We knew something was off. Still, Robin could have simply misinterpreted things. In stressful situations, it's easy to do."

"What about the search?"

"We have two teams out looking for them as we speak," Scott told her with a nod. "They'll contact as soon as they find something."

Frowning Catherine crossed her arms. She hadn't particularly liked the response. Seeing how Scott already had a distaste for both her friends, she had to wonder if they truly were looking, or if he was just stating this fact in order to gain one of his own wants. If she had her own way she would be well out in the forest searching for them.

"What do you want me to do?"

It was taking too long. Yet at the same time could he really ask more of her? With each determined step Sara winced, holding back a short cry of pain. It was slow, and nearly heartbreaking for Greg to watch. He offered whatever help he could, but it was Sara who constantly put him off, determined to do it all on her own.

The bleeding had nearly stopped; it was about the only thing Greg could be thankful for. His worry was evident, and it was starting to push Sara over the edge. Yet it wasn't entirely her fault. She never had someone care for her like this before. When he moved to help her again she moved to push him away, stumbling over her own feet and landing on her knees.

It wasn't the most painful thing she had done yet, but still she couldn't help but groan as the sharp pain shot through her leg. Greg was kneeling next to her, holding her by the shoulders as she trembled lightly.

"We can't keep doing this," he told her firmly, moving so that he was facing her. "Let me help you."

"I can do it on my own Greg," she rasped, closing her eyes with a heavy breath. At least that was what she wanted to think. After a moment she opened them again, finding Greg watching her attentively. With a sigh she pushed herself to her feet again, groaning as she slipped on the ground.

"Sara…this isn't going to work," he told her softly, his voice full of concern.

"What else am I supposed to do?"

"I'll carry you," Greg suggested, moving to his feet. He stilled for a moment, taking a hold of her hands just above her wrists. Sara held fast, shaking her head.

"Greg…you abandoned the backpack because it was too heavy. How do propose carrying me?"

"I can do it," he responded firmly, kneeling back down. "But I'm going to need you to help."

"Greg, I…"

"No," he shook his head firmly. "Don't argue. Wrap your arms around my shoulders."

He had turned around so that he was facing away from her, patting to where he wanted her to hold on at. At first he wasn't sure she would listen, knowing exactly how stubborn she was, but he sighed in relief when he felt her respond. Taking in a breath he reached behind himself, hooking his arms under her knees and he lifted her up, moving to his feet.

"Hold on," he told her, adjusting his stance to bear both of their weight. It wasn't easy, his own body fatigued from the long toll of the events from the past days. He stood there for a moment longer, shifting his arms to balance her even more.

"Greg…" Sara's voice was strained, and he could hear her pause, as if trying to consider what she was going to say. But her shivering told him different; it wasn't so much as her not knowing what to say, but being unable to say it. He let out a heavy sigh, moving forward, holding her close as he trudged up the beaten path.

"Just hold on," his whispered, hoping against hope that he was finally going in the right direction. If they could just reach the road…any road at all, their chances of finding someone who could help them would greatly increase. It had been only a handful of minutes, no more than twenty, since Sara was last injured, and already the signs were showing through.

The snake bite, as he assumed it had been, was not just any ordinary bite, but poison was most likely a factor. Had to be, at his assumption. Of course he never disregarded the fact that it could have been a simple bite, factoring in everything else that had happened, the bite could have simply been too much for her to handle.

He could barely see in the fading light, but that only fueled him on further as he worked his way up, Sara's heavy breaths against the back of his neck as she protested quietly. Greg had hoped this time would have never come, but with each passing minute, it was becoming more of a reality.

Catherine sat off to one side, scooting over to make room for Nick as the man sat down. Scott stood just beside them, flipping through several pages as the door was closed, the detective coming into the room.

"We've been trying to reach you for a few days Robin," Scott stated quietly, watching the officer intently. "Where have you been?"

"Busy," Robin replied monotonously. "I was on leave, I wasn't violating any restrictions."

"Being on leave is one thing. Being unreachable?" Catherine wondered. "Whenever someone is given administrative leave, they're still required to maintain contact. Certainly when one is involved in a crime or other similar incident."

"I didn't commit any crime," Robin growled, sitting up in his chair. He flexed his bandaged arm, lifting it so everyone in the room could see. "That crazy lunatic shot me."

"You were shot," Nick nodded, "But by who is another story. Tell us again, what happened that night?"

The officer sighed, rolling his eyes. "I told you all once. I was doing my job when the guy pulled out the gun and started waving it around. When I tried to do the right thing he started shooting, then he proceeded to drag the lady into the woods, stating that if I tried to follow, he'd kill her. What was I supposed to do?"

The room was silent as everyone processed his story, until Scott stepped forward, laying several pictures on the table. "That's the photo of your wound, before" he slid the first picture forward, "And after."

Catherine watched as the officer shifted in his seat, wincing at the gory material. Then he seemed to regain his composure, shrugging his one good shoulder lightly. "It looks like a gunshot wound to me."

"That's right," Catherine said with a nod, leaning forward. "By the amount of damage done, the gunshot had to be close in range…most likely a contact wound. Exactly how could Greg wrestle the gun away from someone, hold them hostage, and shoot you, all within close proximity?

"Well…he didn't have the girl the entire time," Robin said quietly. The officer frowned, clearing his throat. "He hit her, knocked the sense out of her I think, then ran at me. He fired while I had my weapon down. Then while I was hurt he took her away…"

"Did we forget to leave that detail out when we asked you the first time?" Scott wondered, raising an eyebrow.

"A lot was going on, I can't remember everything," he exasperated, shaking his head. "I'm the victim here!"

"Who were you calling in Vegas?"

The question shocked him, and Robin turned to stare at the Detective, the same man that had remained quiet this entire time. "We have records that you were keeping connection with someone in Nevada."

"Wrong number mostly likely," Robin shrugged, frowning. "I don't know anyone down there."

"Thirteen different calls? All of five minutes ore more in length? Exactly what did you and the wrong number talk about for so many different times?"

"Robin…" Scott started with a sigh. After all the lead of the lab had felt he knew the young officer, and hated to even began to think that the man was involved with this. But evidence didn't lie…and nor could he. "We know about your financial problems. Someone has been depositing money in your account. Quite a sum…enough to suggest hired murder maybe?"

"I would never," Robin started, shaking his head. It was Nick who cut him off.

"Is that why you didn't finish it?" the Texan wondered. "Is that how they got away? And only then did you realize your mistake, and knew that somehow you'd have to cover it up?"

"You assumed that they would find their way out, and if that happened, you'd be screwed," Catherine filled in the blanks, watching the man's face change. "Is that where you were? Out to finish the job?"

"I didn't want any part of it," Robin hissed quietly. "I was having money problems, I still am. I didn't know what else to do, and one day this guy comes to me. Says he can hook me up with a tidy sum. All I needed to do was call this number."

"Who hired you?" Scott asked quietly.

Robin shook his head, utterly silent. "I never found out his name…he's an officer though…I can tell, he knew way too much to be just some random person. He was offering a large sum if I could dispose of a couple of CSI's from the LV Crime Lab. It sounded kind of odd to me, but I wasn't going to question it."

"Where are Greg and Sara?" Nick asked, his concern evident as he leaned forward. He feared the answer, they all did.

Robin shrugged, shaking his head once again. "I don't know. I never found them."

"You may have not killed them directly," Scott stated quietly, "But your actions led up to their death. To me that's still murder, and I will make sure you are tried for it. Premeditated."

The officer was silent, eyes closed as the detective beckoned him to his feet. Catherine could feel the same cold dread in her heart as she watched them walk him away. You found the slime bags, and the cold hearted among the force every so often, but it was rare. And to think they had someone back in Vegas on the same list was unnerving. She closed her eyes, taking in a long breath.

"Do you think?" Nick asked quietly, unable to finish his question.

"Without any bodies we won't know for certain," Catherine replied, moving to her feet. "I'm going to get a jacket."

"I'll get the car," Nick stated, following quickly behind her. They wouldn't have any problem catching up with the search team, and though it wasn't something they were looking forward to, it wasn't as if they had any other choice. The only thing missing from this case, were the bodies.

TBC