Laws of Motion – Book 3

Written by: Ms. Maggs/Edited by: KJT

Chapter 7

Monday, September 26, 2007

Sheriff Burdick's Office

3:15 p.m.

If ever there was proof of the restorative power of human touch, Jim saw it in Sara and Nick's eyes as their loved ones held them. With each passing second, the damage done by Don Schultz was being repaired. Unfortunately, the callous and vengeful man was due back in seven minutes and he knew they'd be hurting again. "Look on the bright side, everyone…we could be paying a shitload of money for this type of bonding experience. You know…they have those retreats in the mountains where teams go to bare their souls and get to know one another, so they work better together. Look how much we've learned about each other so far for free! Let's remember to thank dear old Donny for saving the taxpayers cash."

"I'll thank him, with a solid kick to his crotch." With a can of Diet Coke in hand, Catherine returned to her seat. "I don't know why you're so upset, Nicky. So what if he told everyone that you had rowdy sex with a bunch of hot women…and Sofia. Ha! Nobody tell her I said that when she gets back. Anyway, my point is, you're a hunky guy. You're supposed to make it with lots of babes until you give up your playboy ways and settle down with a respectable gal like Carrie. Me, on the other hand…" She shuddered at the memory. "That bastard insulted my ass!" Standing up, she pointed to her posterior. "This ass used to make me a two grand a week! He called my moneymaker ancient history and insinuated it would be painful to look at if I dropped my drawers!" Plopping down, she huffed, "That's it, instead of a boob job, I'm getting an ass lift!"

Jim placed his hands on his distraught friend and co-worker's slumping shoulders. "Since a sexual harassment lawsuit is the least of our worries…who here thinks Cath still has a very hot ass!"

When everyone raised their hand and Jim raised both of his, the forlorn forty-two year old laughed, "Yeah, I thought a little self-deprecating humor might help our situation. Not that I'm not really ticked off about what that jerk said."

Sofia had walked in just in time to hear the question and posed one of her own. "Who here has sexually experimented with the same gender?" Upon seeing only her hand in the air she dropped hers. "Never mind."

"Wait!" Feeling bad for Sofia, Carrie boasted, "I kissed Tawny on the lips! For like five whole seconds. I didn't like it though. I mean, in case you were wondering if I was looking to hook up for a threesome later with Nicky."

"Tisha was my first and last, thanks." Sofia shrunk a few more inches from the embarrassment. "Seriously, it was just a fleeting curiosity."

"I was kidding!" Carrie chuckled. "Sorry, I have a really good poker face."

"Hell, yeah she does." Nick explained, "Tawny and her shocked the hell out of Greggo and me. For a split second I really thought they were gonna rip each other's clothes off."

Catherine laughed, "I'm sure Sanders was disappointed they didn't."

Enjoying the merriment, Jim winked at Gil. "Should we tell them about those two glorious nights when we slept together in Reno?"

Gil appreciated the humor, because he knew it would end any minute. "We were at a law enforcement convention. I was there to do a presentation on blood evidence collection. The department was too cheap to pay for two rooms and the hotel was booked solid, so I couldn't opt to pay for my own. Jim drools in his sleep."

"Yeah, well, when I got up to pee in the middle of the night, he was grinding his teeth."

"I only do that when I'm stressed," Gil clarified. Sara better break out her earplugs tonight.

I better break out my earplugs tonight. Mrs. Grissom gripped her husband's hand. "Don't feel bad, everyone does something in their sleep."

"Nick snores," Carrie, Sofia and Catherine simultaneously answered.

When everyone turned to stare at Nick, Catherine explained, "No, you bunch of perverts. I heard him when he fell asleep driving back from working a crime scene in Searchlight once."

Carrie breathed a sigh of relief, until Don strolled in whistling as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"I'm baaaaaaaaaack." The cheery lawyer tossed his briefcase on the table at the front of the room. "Well now, don't you all look happy! I think I can change that."

The Vartanns

3:24 p.m.

Returning with a glass of ice water, Tony's heart ached for Becca, who was sitting on the couch with the saddest look on her damp face. Her grief stronger than even her tear-suppressing medication, she had bawled her eyes out in his arms after he hung up speaking with Mr. Dwyer. "Here you go, Honey." He opened his palm for her to take her Xanax and handed over the glass. "Is there anything else I can get you? How about some tea, or…"

"A hug."

"You got it."

Into his chest she sniffled, "I keep thinking if I had gone to the party with him that night, this wouldn't have happened."

"You don't know that. For all we know, if you had gone, you could have ended up dead." He kissed the top of her head as she trembled in his arms. "I'll make some calls and find out who's working the case. They'll find who did it." He knew if it was truly a professional hit called by Bruce Campbell, the odds were slim to none.

"Should I call Hoj? It's his honeymoon, but I think he'll be pissed at me if he misses the funeral."

"He gets back Thursday night, right?"

"Yeah."

"Things work a little differently with homicides. The body won't be released right away and then it has to be transported, so by the time they…" When he realized his unemotional discussion of her friend's corpse was getting to her, he stammered, "Sorry, uh…how about I call Nick and see who is working on the case?"

Sheriff Burdick's Office

3:25 p.m.

"Let's talk about the Rodgers case, shall we?" Don relaxed in his chair with a bulging file.

Gil felt the target on his head glowing neon red as the attorney readied to launch his next missile.

"Dr. Grissom, what made you open an investigation into Samantha Hatcher's death twenty-three years after her tragic fall was ruled accidental?"

"Technology has changed dramatically in twenty-three years. Twenty-three years ago, kids were still playing record albums, the majority of today's kids have never seen one. DNA evidence wasn't a factor in 1981, but it was in 2004."

"You're very eloquent."

"Thank you."

"I understand how a blood-stained jacket found today would be processed differently than if it had been found in '81, that's logical to me and I've seen that scenario in many re-opened cases. What I can't understand is…how did you come upon Samantha's jacket in the first place?"

Nick jumped in, "I'm the investigator who explained all that on the stand."

"Wow." Don rolled his chair on wheels over to Nick. "After all I put you through, why on Earth would you draw attention to yourself, Mr. Stokes?"

"What the hell else can you possibly have on me, Don?" Now that he felt confident Carrie couldn't be driven away, Nick focused on deflecting the sleazebag's focus off Gil and Sara.

"Why did you present the evidence at the Rodgers trial instead of Dr. Grissom? No offense, but he's a hell of a lot smarter than you, Mr. Stokes. As a child, he was labeled gifted, while you were in special classes for the learning disabled until seventh grade. Tell me…did you ride the short bus?"

"No, I walked with my sisters." Sitting in a room full of brilliant minds, the revelation hurt much more than the sex stuff. "Did you also find out that I was an A-Student all through high school and graduated with honors from A&M even though I played ball and worked part time during college?"

"That's quite a turnaround for someone who repeated first grade. I guess that makes you a 'come from behind' kind of guy? And I don't mean sexually, because I've already established that's true."

Nick answered with an eye roll.

"I think you were waaaaaay behind by the time your boss asked you to join in the Rodgers case."

"I'm sure you'll tell me why you think that."

Don pointed across the room. "Because Dr. Grissom, Ms. Willows and Mr. Brass had a very important meeting, and they didn't invite you. It was held at Paul and Wendy Blake's house, not their new one, the old one…Wendy's childhood home that she inherited when her mother died. Hey! I need to add them to my 'got a new house since Mike went to jail' list!' Did you buy it for them, Dr. Grissom? Or was it purchased with your settlement money, Ms. Blake?" Snickering, he jumped up and went to the white board. "To continue my story, Nick…those three met and figured out a plan. Then, later on down the road, they spoon-fed you what you were supposed to say to the jury. Kind of how your fiancée told you what to say when people asked how you afforded your new house. See…smart people know how to control and use you…just ask your brother."

"Or your client," Nick retorted. "He's a real smart guy. To nail him, it took a genius and the fact that twenty-three years ago, he never would have thought we'd have technology to decipher whose blood was on a jacket and be able to tell how it did and didn't get there."

"Is that what they told you?"

"C'mon, Don." Nick laughed at the man, "They couldn't add Mike's twenty-three year old blood to the jacket."

"Aww." Don walked over to Carrie, smiling, "It's really very sweet of a genius like you to love a guy who is so slow on the uptake. Do you want to tell him how it could be done, or should I?" He waited a few seconds then said, "Okay, I'll tell him." Whipping around, he yelled, "Duh! Greg Sanders did the DNA analysis! He manipulated the results per Dr. Grissom's specifications. "

Tired of the insinuation, Gil huffed, "He knows that's not how we work."

"Oh, I think he's very familiar with how you folks manipulate things." Don smiled at Nick, "After all, didn't Mr. Brass just get your dyke sister, Katie, out of a DUI on Saturday night?

Nick caught Carrie's eyes as they both thought 'how the hell did he hear about that!'

To Jim it was abundantly clear there were snitches in the police department who Don had obviously convinced to take the former cop's side, "Hey, Schultzy! Here's a news flash…Katie was released because she had an asthma attack and used her inhaler before taking the field breath test, which as I'm sure you know, can throw off results. Because she passed the physical sobriety tests, and because she offered to submit to a blood test, everyone agreed she should be released. Logic, not favoritism was our motivation."

Don walked straight over to Sara. "I didn't know you were asthmatic."

"I'm not."

"Oh." Don casually stood before the quivering woman. "Then what excuse did Jim Brass use to get you out of your DUI in 2004?"

Sara's gut feeling was right, from the look on Carrie's face it was obvious she didn't know about the incident.

"Come on, Mrs. Grissom. I know you blew over the limit. They were just about to book you when a call came in from Jim. You were told to wait for your supervisor to pick you up. You weren't dating Dr. Grissom at the time, it was the 'lust from afar phase', was it not?"

Under the table, Sara dug her nails into her lap. I know what phase I'm in right how…hell on Earth.

"See, Nicky." Don pointed to the flummoxed woman sitting in front of him. "They're not coming to her rescue because what I'm saying is the truth. They covered it up, just like they hid the truth about Samantha's jacket from you."

"We didn't cover up anything, "Grissom snapped, momentarily losing his patience. "The limit had just changed from .08 to 1.0. Cops were showing leniency during a grace period."

"Oh, okay." Between smirks, Don asked the Sheriff, "Do you have a copy of the departmental memo explaining this grace period leniency procedure your officers were supposed to follow?"

"It wasn't a written procedure," the Sheriff explained, knowing the jerk would have a field day with the answer. "It was just something officers were doing at their own discretion in non-injury cases for a couple of months following the change."

"So, why did they bring Ms. Sidle all the way to the station? Why didn't they show her leniency at the scene?" Don pointed to Jim. "Why did it take a call from a police captain to get the officer to show leniency? Could it be that Ms. Sidle was well beyond the leniency limit?"

Jim raised his hand. "My turn. They didn't want to let her go without asking my opinion, because Ms. Sidle is a CSI and they weren't sure if her supervisor would want to take disciplinary action. I told them I'd call her supervisor and let him make the decision. Go ahead, have your field day with that."

"Thank you, I think I will." Don sat in front of Sara. "It had to be pretty embarrassing to have the man of your dreams come to the police station to pick you up from a DUI. Do you think that's why he didn't hook up with you for so long? Your immaturity?"

Sara remained silent, gulping down her pride.

Don walked to the center of the room. "Being immature for your age is something you've suffered from for quite a while, isn't it, Mrs. Grissom? Which is interesting, since you have such a thing for older men. Dr. Grissom is fourteen years older than you. In college you dated several professors all between twelve and fifteen years older than you. One of them remembers you fondly, the two others…not so much. They categorized you as 'needy' and 'manipulative' and one of them said you liked to pull 'attention getting maneuvers'. What do you have to say about that?"

The term 'attention getting maneuver' took Gil back to Tahoe and his interrogation of Mike.

Leaning across the table, Mike whispered, "Don't you see...I'm just the pawn in Sara's schoolgirl game? If you hadn't shown up when you did, I bet she would have feigned a collapse on the way to the lobby to get the ball rolling. The cops would have shown up, found the vial on me and..."

Incredulous, Grissom asked, "How would this help her?"

"She hoped that this trauma would make the guy finally give her the affection she craved. Can't you picture it…the guy finds out what happened and rushes to her side. Because he almost loses her he has a sudden change of heart. Maybe he'd sit by the bed holding her hand, telling her how much he cares…calling himself a fool for ever turning her away. Game over. She's got him."

Grissom fought to find the hole in Mike's story. "There is nothing in Sara's past that would lead me or anyone to believe she would do something like that. Nothing!"

"Oh yeah?"

Jumping up from the table Grissom blasted, "I'm through listening to your fabrication!"

Suddenly a smile curved over Mike's lips. "I have to disagree about Sara's past. I think there is something there. Sara has done something like this before and she got results but not the result she wanted. So this time I think she upped the ante hoping for a bigger payoff."

His anger rapidly escalating, Grissom fumed. "What the hell are you talking about? You barely know Sara, how could you know about her past!"

Shaking his head, Mike grinned wider. "You're supposed to be the genius so why can't you figure this stuff out? Why do I have to keep giving you the answers? Okay…I'm feeling generous so I'll give you a hint. Three letters…ready?"

Grissom's eyes narrowed as he watched Mike's face light up with pleasure.

"D…U…I." The pleasure of the reveal thrilled his twisted mind. "The look on your face…totally priceless." Mike shook with laughter before commenting in his best TV announcer voice, "Let me introduce 'the guy' himself…Gil Grissom."

Disturbed beyond reason, Grissom could barely remember to breathe.

"Uh...yeah I was talking about you the whole damn time. Duh!"

Delirious with excitement Mike exclaimed, "Sara sure got you to come running that night, didn't she? Say it with me, Gil...attention getting maneuver." Cackling he asked, "Speaking of getting attention…do I have yours?"

"Yes," Sara cleared her throat, but unfortunately her voice was still shaky. "I dated professors. One I recall fondly, the other two were very immature for their ages. When they cheated on me and dumped me, I got pissed. I think any eighteen year old sheltered girl would. If they want to call dropping their class the next day an 'attention getting manuever' that's their prerogative, I call it a smart choice. Tuition is expensive at Harvard, why the hell would I waste my time in an idiot's classroom?"

"Not that you were paying the bills," Don reminded the orphan. "You were on full scholarship, remember? Because of your stellar academic record and the fact you were an impoverished foster kid thanks to your murderous mother killing your abusive father."

If looks could kill, Gil knew he would have been guilty of murder.

"Mrs. Grissom…" Don took a seat on the edge of the table in front of her. "I really don't want to drag you through the mud, but what choice do you leave me? I can't let my client sit in prison for a crime he didn't commit just because you decided to use him as a pawn to get Gil to sleep with you. Come on…you have the ring on your finger and his baby in your belly, so why not give up the act and let us call it a day? You know you have the power to put an end to this, don't you?

"How?" Carrie queried after a sip of water from her bottle. "What do you want from her?"

"I want her to admit that she took the GHB from the lab and agreed to go to Tahoe with Mike just so she could stir up some drama and have Gil 'rescue' her like the Knight in Shining Armor she fantasized him to be. I want her to admit she put the GHB in her cocktail when she knew Dr. Grissom was at the resort, and I want her to admit she let Mike take the fall for Samantha's death because she got off watching her dream man nail his ass as some freakish show of loyalty."

"Is that all?" Sara gave a sarcastic laugh. "You want me to lie about all of that to help a murderer get out of jail twenty-four years early? Fat chance."

"I figured you'd say that." Pulling his ringing cell phone off his belt, he said, "So, I'll just have to keep going."

The Vartanns

3:46 p.m.

"Thanks for coming. I'm Becca's husband, Detective Tony Vartann, I work with your son all the time." He closed the front door and held out his hand.

"Dr. Scott Sanders." When they had spoken on the phone twenty minutes earlier he imagined the man to be shorter for some reason. "Nice to meet you, I wish it was under better circumstances."

It was hard to believe the conservatively dressed man who looked like Dennis Quaid's older brother, could be wacky Greg's father. I wonder if they adopted the nutjob? Then he remembered Greg's mother really was a nutjob and figured Greg got his quirks from her.

"You have a lovely home," Scott robotically commented.

"Thanks, it's all Becca's doing." He pointed down the hall. "She's in the family room. Since I can't get any answers about Charlie over the phone, I want to head down to the station and see what's what, but there was no way I was leaving her alone." With Carrie and Nick not answering their cells and Greg in Maui, his wife didn't know anyone else in Vegas.

"I'm happy to help. Oh…congratulations on your marriage, by the way. I realized driving over here that I had forgotten to say that over the phone…I was too stunned by the news." Running his fingers through his light brown hair, Scott followed Becca's husband down the hall. "Charlie's parents are members of my old Country Club, so I knew him since he was born. I've also been his dentist since he was three. He knocked his front two baby teeth loose well before their time and his mother was frantic that he wouldn't get modeling jobs if he lost them early. I can't imagine her coping with this news. Charlie was the center of her universe."

"Mr. S?" Becca whimpered when she saw him step into the room. Tony had said he was coming and she was relieved he was here and she wouldn't have to be alone. "Our Charlie is gone."

"I know, Honey." When he saw her looking like a sad little girl, he took a seat on the couch and pulled him into his arms. Ever since he heard the news, he wished he could embrace his son and he began counting the minutes until Greg's return.

"I'm going to miss him."

"All I can think about is when you, Greg and Charlie put those three Galapagos penguins in the club swimming pool."

"We wanted a dolphin, but they were locked up tight."

"Where'd they get penguins?" Tony asked while clipping his badge to his jacket.

"They stole them from a local aquarium. They did that type of thing a lot." Then Scott saw the badge and remembered the guy was a cop. "I meant borrowed."

"Uh huh." Tony smiled at his wife. "I promise I'll call as soon as I find something out."

Sheriff Burdick's Office

3:50 p.m.

"Good news!" Don returned his cell phone to his pants pocket. "I just found out that Greg has made a complete recovery. He was just spotted lounging by the Four Seasons' swimming pool in Maui sipping ginger ale with Tawny at his dside. I bet all of you wish you were there instead of in this stuffy room with me, huh?"

Catherine bluntly informed the jerk, "I think I speak for all of us when I say, we'd rather be getting root canal without Novocain than be here with you."

Chuckling at the remark, Don took a seat in front of Sara again. "Are you an opera fan, Mrs. Grissom?"

"Yes." Although it was new to her, she considered herself a fan. "My husband introduced me to it."

"Did you and your husband go to the opera in San Francisco on June twenty-fourth of this year to see Cosi fan Tutte?"

"Yes." Sara looked at Gil, wondering what their opera trip had to do with anything.

"Who bought the tickets? You or your husband?"

"Neither." While frantically trying to figure out where he was going with the topic, Sara explained, "My Dissertation Professor at Berkeley, Professor Samuels, told me I could have two of his season tickets for completing my dissertation. He knows Gil is an opera fan and hoped the gesture would make him more wiling to come to Berkeley as a Guest Lecturer. I picked Cosi fan Tutte."

"Why did you pick Cosi fan Tutte, an opera about immature lovers who play games that get them into trouble and hurt one another before they finally wed and live happily ever after? Was it…empathy?"

"Scheduling actually." She hated him for tainting a very special memory. "It was the most convenient."

"Yes, it appears that it was," Don snickered. "Who is Brian Anderson, Mrs. Grissom?"

Suddenly the bastard's evil plan was crystal clear to Gil and Sara.

"If you don't want to, I'll tell the story." Don got up and circled the room, getting more excited by the second. "I'll tell it just like Brian Anderson's wife told one of my staff members when he was following up on Berkeley leads and called asking to speak with your ex-lover." Pausing in front of Carrie, he explained, "Sara dated Brian, a Chemical Engineering grad student who attended Berkeley at the same time she did for her Masters. He broke things off with her, and started dating Miranda, who is now his wife. Sara didn't take the news well back then and she burst into his apartment and went a little psycho. Campus security was called as a matter of fact." Lowering his voice to a whisper, Don needled, "Since Sara's mom was a whackjob when it came to men, I suppose the apple didn't fall far from the tree."

"That's uncalled for," Carrie chided the fellow lawyer. "A skilled attorney can make his case without cheap shots."

"No, a skilled attorney can choose to make their case without cheap shots." Chuckling, he strolled back to Sara. "I choose to make mine with the cheap shots left in, because it's fun. Mrs. Grissom…tsk tsk…you were escorted away by security, weren't you?"

"For shouting a few expletives when I caught my boyfriend screwing Miranda when he was supposed to be on a date with me. I think that makes me pretty normal."

"I couldn't agree more," Catherine groaned. "Cheating pig bastards deserved to be called out."

Don nodded at the reply. "I agree with your statement, but the problem is that at the time, multiple witnesses confirmed that Mr. Anderson had broken things off with Ms. Sidle three weeks prior and that even though he repeatedly made it clear to her that they were over, she simply couldn't move on. It was so bizarre, that these people recall the details many years later, Ms. Willows." Sitting in front of her he asked, "Admit it…this kind of hardcore denial is pretty typical for Sara, isn't it? I'm specifically thinking of her clinging to the hope that Gil would date her even though he gave her no encouragement for many years. And don't deny it, Sara…you said it yourself on the news when your husband was trapped in the Harper House cave-in."

Carrie couldn't deny the guy was an expert at character assignation.

"In case you don't remember…"

Cringing from head to toe, Sara remembered every incriminating word. I really wouldn't be sad if you got hit by a bus, Donny. By now she figured Nick was feeling much better about himself. Being a drunk and a psycho definitely trumped being a sex-addict and a slow learner when he was ten.

Don handed out copies of the TV news transcript. "I'll let you read it yourself."

"This is Ana Silva reporting to you live from the scene of the Harper House Tragedy. While the rescue team continues their heroic efforts to save trapped Crime Scene Investigator Gil Grissom, I had a chance to speak to his wife of only eight days, Sara. As if their story wasn't tragic enough, it gets worse. Here is an excerpt from my interview..."

(Footage begins)

"Sara, if things don't turn out well today, at least you have years of good memories together, right?"

"Actually it took us five years just to admit we loved each other. For five years we worked side by side longing for one another, but too scared to take a chance on love. Finally, last September…"

(Footage ends)

"A love story five years in the making! We'll have the full interview with Sara Grissom coming up at four o'clock. For now, I'm Ana Silva, KTBC, Las Vegas' news leader."

When he saw they were done reading, Don sighed, "Poor Ana Silva, may she rest in peace."

Getting frustrated for Sara, Nick snipped, "BFD, Don. Girls get pissed when guys cheat on them. You know….hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

"I bet your sister-in-law, Lissa, would agree."

"I'm sure she would." Nick shrugged. "So, what's your friggin' point with this Brian Anderson crap?

"Relax, Cowboy." Don held up a hand. "I swear, it'll be worth the wait." This time he sat in front of Sofia. "We discussed earlier how devastated you were when Nick didn't want to be your boyfriend anymore, Ms. Curtis. Right after he tore your heart out and stomped on it a few times, you went back into your apartment to bawl your eyes out and throw a few things, but what did you do after that? Did you seek some sort of revenge?"

"No."

"C'mon…you never screwed with his case files? Tried to get him fired? You had to have plenty of golden opportunities."

"No, Don," Sofia calmly replied. "I went out and had a rebound relationship with a guy I met at a Ballistics seminar. After the breakup, I was professional around Nick when I had to be, but other than that I gave him the deep freeze. We only reconciled our differences this year and now, like Carrie said earlier, we're friends."

"Thank you, Ms. Curtis." Don stood smiling at the woman who had just answered his questions and then turned to Sara. "See…that's a mature response to a painful breakup. She released some anger and emotion when it was fresh, and then she let it go. She was able to be professional when duty called, but saw no reason to be friendly until time had passed and water was under the bridge." Launching a heavy sigh in Sara's direction he acted like a disappointed father, "Unfortunately, the same can't be said for you, Ms. Sidle. No, as recently as your trip to the opera, you were still angry and trying to get attention and revenge with Mr. and Mrs. Anderson."

"How?" Carrie queried, highly skeptical of the jerk's statement, but when she saw her friend's gaze turn toward the door, she knew something bad was about to happen.

"To quote Ryan Seacrest, Ms. Blake…you'll find out after the break." He hurried for the door, "I drank a triple shot before we started up again. Nature calls! Talk amongst yourselves!"

When the door shut, Sara said, "I can't do this."

Perry and Sons Mortuary – Las Vegas

4:17 p.m.

"This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do," Bruce Campbell vacantly remarked as he stood in a room full of casket samples.

Grace Perry, the funeral director, gave her usual sympathetic nod. "Please, take all the time you need."

"Which one is the most expensive?" he asked, unable to cope with the bevy of choices.

Walking over to the priciest model, Grace explained, "This is our finest. It's bronze with a silk interior and superior to all others manufactured today. All the best celebrities are laid to rest in this one. It's shown with a light beige interior, but if you would like something different, you can select from a variety of colors. You also have the option of personalizing the inside panels with sayings or images that reflect your daughter's spirit."

"She liked purple," was all the grieving father could manage.

"We have lovely lilac silk as well as a deep purple. I have samples in my office from which you can choose."

Bruce ran his hand over the sculpted bronze. "When Nina turned sixteen I bought her the car of her dreams, it's only fitting that she have the finest…" The word stuck in his throat for a moment. "…casket."

"Very well, then. Let's return to my office for some iced tea and a look at those silk samples."

Turning to his long-time friend and bodyguard, Bruce lifelessly directed, "While I handle things here, I want you to make sure Celine is safe at the crisis center. Get a message to her from me…tell her not to worry, that I'm working to get her back and we'll be together very soon."

On their way out the door, Ivan confirmed, "You know I'm here for you and Celine. Whatever you need me to do…consider it done."

Sheriff Burdick's Office

4:26 p.m.

Staring at the door, Sara dreaded Schultz's inevitable return. I'm done. Although her plan had been to confess her pathetic behavior to the group before the sleazy lawyer returned to the room, Nick and Carrie had immediately holed up in a corner, while the rest of the group checked their voicemail messages. Only her husband was available to listen and he already knew the details.

"Honey…" Gil took a seat in Nick's empty chair. "Whatever he tells them, it doesn't matter. These people know you. They know you're more than the sum of a few bad choices. Do you think any differently of Nick after Don ripped his reputation to shreds? Did his night at the Cottontail Ranch or his romps with Tisha and Sofia suddenly make you forget all the effort he's put in at the lab or with BPAC? Are you planning to cut him out of your life forever because of what Don said?"

"No," she quietly replied, finally able to lift her gaze from the floor.

"It'll work the same way for you, Honey. They won't think any differently about you after Schultz rakes you over the coals." He took her shaky hand and pressed it to his chest. "And you know it won't change a damn thing between us. All you have to do is keep breathing and he'll eventually shut up."

"I just wish there wasn't so much in my past to make it easy for him."

"The best thing to do is to stay as quiet as possible. So, if I'm across the table keeping my trap shut, it's not because I don't care, it's simply the smart thing to do."

"Thank you." Her husband's tender touch and loving gaze made her believe his words. "You're right." It helped to see Carrie and Nick smiling at each other in the corner. "I'm not going to let this bastard get to me, and I know he can't come between us."

"Exactly." At the sound of the door opening, Gil stole a kiss and reluctantly returned to his assigned seat.

"Where were we!" Don excitedly asked as he rubbed his freshly washed hands together. "Ah, yes…the opera, Mrs. Grissom, and your 'attention getting maneuver'. Get this everyone…while she was standing in the lobby, she saw her Ex, Brian Anderson and his wife, Miranda."

Gil remembered the odd scene like it was yesterday…

"I don't believe it! Sara, is that really you" Miranda squealed with excitement, "My goodness you look fantastic! How long has it been?"

Sara felt the need to qualify the question. "Since I found you in bed with Brian? Six years."

"You're not seriously still upset about that, are you?" Miranda chuckled. "My goodness, we're all adults. Besides, I see a diamond ring on your finger so you've obviously moved on. Everything worked out for the best, right?"

Breaking out into a jolly laugh Sara exclaimed, "Gotcha!"

"You always did have a quirky sense of humor, Sara," Brian noted.

Taking Grissom's arm, Sara lied about her marital status, "Miranda, I'd like you to meet my husband, Gil. The two of you have something in common…a love of English Literature."

Miranda smiled warmly and extended her hand. "I'm always happy to meet another literary scholar especially since my dear husband's head is devoted to science and not art. I had to drag him here kicking and screaming. He'd rather hear nails on a chalkboard than opera."

Grissom returned the greeting with the requisite response. "Nice to meet you."

"Hey, if you don't have other plans," Brian suggested, "how about we all go out for drinks to officially wash everything under the bridge and celebrate things turning out well for all parties involved?"

"Sounds great!" Sara eagerly replied. "Where should we tell our driver to take us?"

"Absinthe on Hayes." Helping Miranda on with her wrap he smiled. "You really had us going there, Sara. We'll see you at the bar."

"See you there," she cheerily replied as they left the lobby. When they were gone she seethe,"Oh! I can't believe the audacity of those two. Unbelievable."

"What…?" Grissom was at a loss for words for the second time this evening. "I'm…I'm still trying to figure out what shocked me most." Staring at her he listed the options. "Hearing you call me by my first name, hearing you announce me as your husband, or hearing you accept an invitation to go out with your ex-boyfriend and his wife who you only minutes earlier referred to as a blond bimbo bitch."

"If I said no then they would think I was still upset about the whole thing."

"Aren't you?"

"They laughed in my face when I walked in on them that day. It hurt. It still does. You heard them…they're still laughing."

Still a tad confused, he said, "So explain to me why we're meeting them for drinks?"

"Therapy…closure…Dr. Myers would approve." She chuckled. "Yes, closure with a teeny hint of revenge."

"Clarify that last part for me because I'm rather certain Dr. Myers wouldn't recommend that part."

Grinning she took his arm and headed for the door. "I know I got the better end of the deal and now I have a chance to gently rub it in Miranda's face. We'll go out with them, you'll be devastatingly charming and literary with her and soon she will realize that I have the better man and the joke is no longer on me, it's on her."

Don pointed to Sara. "Whenever she feels inferior or rejected, it's game time! And that night with Brian and Miranda she didn't stop at the marriage lie. Nooooo, after she got done telling them where she fictitiously married and honeymooned with Gil, Sara was so jealous over Miranda being pregnant with Brian's baby, she told them she was four months pregnant! For hours, she lived in a fantasy world and she was so skilled, two Berkeley grads never caught on. That tells me she's an expert in the arts of manipulation and deception. My client agrees also agrees with that assessment."

Gil wanted to say something in his wife's defense, but thinking back to the evening in question, he remembered feeling disappointed himself…

Miranda caressed her belly. "No alcohol for baby so I'll have cranberry juice with club soda and a twist of lime." Eyeing Sara she continued smoothing her hand over her stomach. "I'm six months pregnant with our first."

"I'll have what she's having, thank you." Smiling at Miranda, Sara announced, "Gil and I are expecting our first too."

"Gil, you look a little shocked," Brian chuckled. "I was like that at first too."

Sara slapped Grissom's thigh under the table which was their pre-arranged code for 'just go with it'.

"You know…" Grissom threw his arm around Sara and pulled her close. "Every time she says it, it's like hearing it for the first time."

Since Gil couldn't deny that Sara had issues, he remained silent and supported her with unflinching eye contact.

Sitting in front of Nick, Don said, "Your pal Sara didn't tell the truth that night in San Francisco, and she made no effort to correct Brian and Miranda's perception. It wasn't until she bumped into Mr. and Mrs. Anderson again a few months later that she set the record straight. Her confession was brought on by Miranda expressing her condolences when she noticed Sara didn't look seven months pregnant like she should have. Your friend can be very deceptive, Mr. Stokes. Actually, let's not mince words…she's a compulsive liar who gets very edgy when a man she wants ignores her, and she holds a grudge for a long time, but most of all, she hates feeling left out…like most children do." Glancing over at Jim he asked, "Isn't that right, Mr. Brass? Didn't she flip out at your girlfriend, Lady Heather, in the parking lot of The Fitness Den on August 22nd of this year?"

Recalling the awkward confrontation, Jim stared at Sara.

"You calculating Bitch," Sara snapped in Heather's face.

Jim stepped forward in his lady's defense. "Hey now! She doesn't deserve that, Sara. It's me you're pissed at. How about giving her a chance to explain before you…"

"A chance, Jim?" Livid, she unleashed her fury. "Oh, so now, after I'm blindsided and humiliated, I'm supposed remain calm and give you all a chance. Do you have ANY idea what this feels like right now? She pulsated with anger as she screamed, "You lied to my face repeatedly. You made a game out of this…you were laughing at me while I stood there trying to guess who your mystery lady was! Oh my god! You cracked jokes in front of me about it! How could you? I really believed you were someone I could count on. But now I know I can only count on you to let me down. Just like my real father." She fought to hold back her tears.

"C'mon, who enjoys bein' lied to, Schultz?" Nick posited when everyone else stayed quiet. "Seriously? And so what if she's a little emotional? Some people are, some people aren't. Take me for instance…I'm sure you know I can be a loud and passionate person when I get my feathers ruffled, while Grissom is the opposite, stayin' calm and collected. That night at The Fitness Den…you know what was going on based on your spy's perception, but you don't know the whole truth. For instance, you don't know if Sara was taking hormones to help with her pregnancy that made her edgy or emotional. Kinda like with my sister…you didn't know she had an asthma attack right before she blew into the breathalyzer. The perception was she was DUI, but the truth is, she had just had an asthma attack and in getting out her inhaler, she momentarily spaced and drove through the red light. Also, if Greg were here, he'd tell you that Lady Heather was very nasty to Sara when they were processing a case at The Dominion months before Sara blew up at her."

"Bravo, Mr. Stokes!" Don gave him a round of applause. "Nice retort. You can really tell you were raised on a ranch full of lawyers."

"Thank you." Nick sat a little taller in his chair. "Perception, isn't good enough, you have to know the whole story before you accuse someone." His thoughts turned to Charlie laying dead in a hotel bed at The Royale. "Reacting when you only have half the story can hurt innocent people."

While Nick looked great at that moment, both Gil and Carrie knew Don wouldn't let it last for much longer.

Don nodded. "That's what happened to you and Greg with this whole gay thing, right? The photos looked damning, but there was an innocent explanation for all of them."

"Exactly," Nick concurred, knowing this was going far too well to stay that way. "Those photos hurt a lot of people."

Pleased he had been able to cause chaos with the photos his spy snapped, Don grinned with delight. "I agree with you, Mr. Stokes, and from here on out, I promise to stick to the truth and nothing but the truth."

"Good." Nick braced for the shoe he knew was about to drop.

"Like the truth about how Jim Brass fixed things in Tahoe, or the truth about Wendy Blake and Gil Grissom conspiring to frame my client." Snickering, the lawyer asked, "Have you ever seen the movie A Few Good Men with Jack Nicholson?"

"Twice."

"You want the truth, Stokes? You can't handle the truth!" Don yelled in his best Nicholson impression. "And the people I'll be blasting in this room are far from innocent. Ms. Willows…Ms. Sidle…Mr. Brass and especially Dr. Grissom, are guilty with a capital G."

Perry and Sons Mortuary – Las Vegas

4:52 p.m.

Walking out of the funeral home overridden with guilt, Bruce Campbell winced in the harsh afternoon sun. With all the arrangements for Nina made, he would call Ivan from the limo and get an update on Celine. The last thing he wanted was for something bad to happen to the only child he had left in this world.

"Excuse me…Mr. Campbell?"

Bruce eyed the well-coiffed man wearing an expensive designer suit. "Yes?"

"I saw the news of your daughter's passing on TV and wanted to offer my condolences. To lose a child is devastating. I…unfortunately I know first-hand, because…I just lost my only child today."

"They were very helpful inside," Bruce commented, feeling an odd camaraderie with the grieving stranger. "The bronze is the way to go, it's the best. I'm sure, like me, you only want the best for your child."

"Yes," Dr. Dwyer gulped. "I did. I wanted everything for him, but now…now there's only one thing left I can get for him."

"Which is?"

"Revenge."

Time stood still as Bruce Campbell watched the man pull a 9mm pistol from beneath his jacket. "What…"

"This is for Charlie!"

By the time the gun was fired a second time, passersby on the street ran screaming for cover.

"You got it wrong! Charlie didn't kill your daughter!" Dr. Dwyer shouted at the top of his lungs at the man who lay bleeding on the sidewalk. "I know how you people work! I saw the bullet in my son's head! The cop at the hotel told me it was a hit! My Charlie is dead because you ordered a hit!"

"I…didn't," Bruce gasped as he tried to plug the holes in his chest. "I'm…sorry…you…"

"Sorry doesn't bring back my son!" As people frantically scurried into hiding places, the crazed father raised the gun once more. "Nothing you can say or do can bring back my Charlie!"

"Money…I have…"

"I don't need your money!" The plastic surgeon to celebrities shouted, "I'm as loaded as this gun!"

"Celine…I need…" Bruce whispered as life drained out of him from the chest.

"What I need is for you to stop talking," Dr. Dwyer lethargically retorted before releasing two more bullets into the man he believed to be his son's true murderer. "Thank you, that's much better." Looking up at the late afternoon sun, he very calmly put the gun to his throat and pulled the trigger once more.

Author's Notes:

Thanks for reading!

Chapters 8 and 9 are posted too. I was having trouble accessing this site so I'm posting all 3 at once to catch up.

Maggs