Tortured Mind Chapter 5, a csi fanfic

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Present Time

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The wind whipped across the desert, pulling moisture from the ground, drying the landscape even as the sun began to heat the earth. Sand grains pulled loose from their surroundings, flying through the air, beating against Sara as she struggled to keep moving, her arm throbbing in the sling. Glaring sunlight and blowing sand made her squint her eyes until they were nearly closed, but she kept moving, gradually making her way toward the tallest hill she could see.

Farther than I thought... or maybe it's taking so long because I'm moving so slowly. She glanced down at the ground around her feet. I can't believe how fast it's drying, but my footsteps are still clear in the damp areas. -- If I don't see anything to head toward when I reach that hill, I can find my way back if I need to.

She continued to glance around, making sure of her direction, keeping an eye out for any remaining puddles of water. What's that? -- That's the first piece of trash I've seen out here... I hadn't noticed that before, but it's strange... Why isn't there any trash? How far am I from Vegas? There's always trash in the desert! Bending down slowly, painfully, tucking the mirror safely into her pocket, she reached out and snagged the folded brochure from the tangle of branches, reading "Spring Mountain Ranch State Park."

Flipping the brochure over, she saw a map, unhelpfully labeled "you are here." Red Rock Canyon conservation area... That would explain the lack of trash and lights... But it's a big place, where am I? She glanced around but couldn't see anything suggesting she was anywhere near Spring Mountain Ranch. Well, all the roads are east of Red Rock, Vegas is in the east, I should be able to see something from the top of that hill. -- East. -- At least I have a direction now.

She clambered painfully back to her feet, the mirror glinting from her pocket as she climbed slowly up the rock strewn hillside. Struggling up through the well-drained sand, already dry and loose, quickly being heated by the relentless sun, temperature steadily rising. Bet it tops 100 today... just my luck. I nearly freeze last night, and now I'm going to be baked.

Sara scrambled carefully up onto a rock near the top of the hill, giving herself an unobstructed view of the surrounding area. Dry barren desert stretching as far as the eye could see, east or west, it didn't matter; no tracks, no roads, no buildings visible in the dust. No! No! Oh no! Sara sank slowly to sit on the rock, glancing wildly around, praying she missed something, that something would show up, willing herself not to cry. No!

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January, 2006

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Dark granite countertops shining, sun streaming through the sparkling windows, pots glistening in the rack, tiled floor glowing, every dish in its place, gold records perfectly straight on the wall, Natalie prepared to leave for the evening.

"Hey, Natalie, right?"

"Y-yes."

"Just wanted to tell you, you do a great job. Much better than my gold-digging wife ever did."

"Th-thank you, Mr. Delancy."

"Call me Izzy... You're a pretty girl, you know that... Very pretty... You ever been with a man?"

"H-how do you mean?"

"Honey, if you have to ask that, you haven't. How 'bout I show you what I mean?"

"W-What about your w-wife?"

"Eh, she's too busy being pregnant, complaining about her back, robbing me blind with massage bills. We can use Sven's room, she never goes in there... You'll be my special girl, and she'll never know. You'll see."

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May, 2006

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"Natalie, honey, I'd like you to meet Annie. Madeline hired her as a nanny for baby Emma, so she'll be around the house a lot of the time. Can you show her where everything is, give her the grand tour?"

"Sure, that'd be okay."

"That's my girl! I'll see you later."

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Friday, August 25, 2006

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!beep! "You have .. one .. new message, sent .. Friday .. August .. twenty-fifth .. two-thousand .. six."

"Yo, this is Izzy, Izzy Delancy, like you couldn't tell. Hey, anyway, guess you forgot but, uh, I asked you to clean my sweats, alright. Remember, you gotta use bleach to get the pitch stains out, cool. Okay, gotta go..."

!beep! "Message has been .. saved."

Flash

A strong, pungent smell. The red fading, Chloe disappearing. Tears streaking Daddy's face, red tips on his fingers, sleeves pushed up, hair falling --

NO! Stop!

Flash

Quilted comforter, blue, red, white, forced over the foot of the bed. Clothes thrown over the wooden desk and chair. White linen curtains blowing in the breeze. Sweat dripping from his tight cropped curls. Clean cotton sheets soft against her skin. A panting, "O-oh yeah! You're my special girl! Love ya, baby!"

For you, Izzy. That smell, for you.

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Earlier Today

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Grissom forced himself to avoid looking at the news report that was holding the attention of the majority of the lab, watching the floods rise as they all waited for word of Sara. He saw Hodges, a book in his hand, making his way to Trace and watched through the glass as a sample was placed under the microscope, referenced, then marked on the map. He knows what he's doing, best not to disturb him. He'll just waste time sucking up to me.

Striding along the hall, he made his way back toward the garage and the car that was currently their best hope of getting a precise location. As he entered the room, Warrick looked up from the back seat, he had a half-hopeful look about him that caused Grissom's heart to begin pounding in his throat. He's found something!

Warrick held up his recent discovery, "Grissom, zip tie, unlocked. I think Sara got out of this trunk. Speaker's completely ripped out from the inside. She could have reached through and released the back seat. And there's blood on the glass. May have been a struggle."

She got out! That's my Sara! Grissom only half-listened to Warrick's theory, his brief feeling of relief quickly dampened by cooling logic. But, if she got out and escaped, she would have called. No she's out there, trapped beneath a car, and I can't find her. He forced his voice to remain calm, not willing to completely crush Warrick's hope, "Yeah, but none of that's going to tell us where she is. We need a store receipt, or a parking stub, something with a location on it."

Warrick remained persistent, "If she got out of this car. She might not even be in the desert. We might be completely off base here --"

I wish you were right, Warrick, but Natalie was just too calm for that to be the case. He had to make Warrick understand, "No, Natalie completed the miniature, I saw it in her eyes. Sara's under that car." Unless she got out of that as well... Please, God!

His thoughts of Sara, pinned beneath the wreck, were interrupted as Hodges called from the doorway, "Pollen spores off the bumper and Natalie's head both overlap in Red Rock Canyon."

Red Rock Canyon! Finally, a location! He turned quickly and followed Hodges from the room, "Did you notify S and R?"

"Yeah."

Grissom strode down the hall, finally he had a purpose, a place to be. Just hang in there a little longer, Sara, we've almost got you.

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Monday, August 28, 2006

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White sweatpants soaking in bright yellow bucket. A pungent smell permeating the air. A cry catching her attention...

"O-oh yeah! You're my special girl! Love ya, baby!"

Flash

Bright red door, white sign, skull and crossbones in the centre, careful black lettering, "SVEN'S LAIR ... KEEP OUT!"

Flash

Daddy -- no, Mrs. Wetzel -- no, Izzy -- saying love you, but not to her...

Flash

Dark granite countertops, red blinds partially covering the sparkling windows, pots hanging from the central rack, tiled floor a patchwork of colors, gold records perfectly straight on the wall, Izzy slumped over the table, blood dripping from his tight cropped curls, white tank top displaying his tattoo.

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Tuesday, August 29, 2006

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!beep! "You have .. one .. new message and .. one .. saved message. First new message, sent .. Tuesday .. August .. twenty-nineth .. two-thousand .. six."

"Yo, this is Izzy. I found my sweats being eaten away by bleach. Think they were in there a little too long, what happened to you? You should be here today. Let me know what's up."

!beep! "Message has been .. deleted... First saved message, sent .. Friday .. August .. twenty-fifth .. two-thousand .. six."

!beep! "Message has been .. saved."

"Hey there, Annie the nanny... -- Hey there, Annie the nanny... -- Hey there, Annie the nanny..."

Flash

Sweat dripping from his tight cropped curls. Clean cotton sheets soft against Annie's skin.

Flash

Newspaper lying on the dark wood of the dining room table, Izzy's usual breakfast of bacon and two eggs sunny-side up, untouched. Fork lying beside the plate. Izzy slumped over the table, blood dripping from his tight cropped curls, white tank top displaying his tattoo. Marble rolling pin, a few blood stains remaining, tucked into the baking drawer.

!ring, ring, ri--!

"Hey, this is Ernie."

"I need help making some parts."

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Monday, September 25, 2006

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A perfect miniature of Izzy Delancy's kitchen and dining room, everything in it's place. Dark granite countertops, red blinds partially covering the sparkling windows, pots hanging from the central rack, tiled floor a patchwork of colours, gold records perfectly straight on the wall. Newspaper lying on the dark wood of the dining room table, Izzy's usual breakfast of bacon and two eggs sunny-side up, untouched, fork lying beside the plate. Izzy slumped over the table, blood dripping from his tight cropped curls, white tank top displaying his tattoo. Marble rolling pin, a few blood stains remaining, tucked into the baking drawer. Bottle of bleach under the sink.

Flash

A strong, pungent smell. The red fading, Chloe -- no Izzy -- disappearing. Tears streaking Daddy's -- no Annie's -- face, a bristled brush, spots of light appearing in the red. A pervasive, never-ending smell.

No! She can't!

A pair of tweezers reaching down, gently opening the cabinet under the sink, grasping the bleach bottle. A gloved hand reaching down, gently pulling out the trash compactor, bottle of bleach safely deposited, tweezers closing the compactor.

Almost done... Almost...

Flash

A deep dark pool, spilling from the sidewalk onto the lawn, red mixing with green. A white shirt and floral skirt, arms curled upward as if in sleep, legs cushioned in the grass, white shoes still pristine.

Flash

Dolly -- no Chloe -- sitting on Daddy's knee. "I've got a pain in my sawdust, that's what's the matter with me. Something is wrong with my little inside, I'm just as sick as can be..."

The flash of a camera, capturing an image of a broken doll, green eye staring, blood staining her forehead. The whirring of a printer, making a tiny detailed copy. The smell of glue, Chloe placed carefully, reverently behind the photograph of a man who changed her life.

Not enough. It's not enough... I need the blood.

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Tuesday, September 26, 2006

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A dropper of blood carefully spread, matching the drying pool perfectly. Marble rolling pin back in the baking drawer. Bleach swirling, flowing down the drain, the smell covering the copper of blood, slowly fading as the sink empties. Bleach bottle tossed into the trash compactor.

!beep! "You have .. one .. saved message, sent .. Friday .. August .. twenty-fifth .. two-thousand .. six."

!beep! "Message has been .. deleted."

Checking the room one last time, everything in its place.

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Earlier Today

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Grissom continued to stride purposefully from the lab, but paused as he ran into Brass near the entrance, "Jim, did you hear? We've got a location, Red Rock Canyon."

"Yeah, Gil, I heard. Where are you going?"

Where am I going? Are you crazy? "I've got to find her, Jim."

"I know ya do, but you can't go out there now. You can't search by car with the possibility of flash floods catchin' ya. The rain's slowing down here, but it may still be going strong up in the canyons."

"I know, Jim, but I've got to do something. There's nothing else to find, here, but out there, maybe I can... At least I can drive out to the park, be ready if anything comes up." We're so close, so close. We can't get any closer than this...

"Gil, listen to me, the park's only a 15 minute drive from town, 10 if we go with sirens blazing. Red Rock's a big place, and Hodges can't narrow the location down more than that. With the rain slowin' and the sun comin' up, we should be able to see better. I'll get all my choppers out there searching, but..." Brass could tell he wasn't convincing his friend, "Look, even if you go out there now, you won't be able to do anything but wait at the entrance for them to find something. Maybe there's nothing here that can narrow it down, but what if there is. You can help more here than waiting out there."

He's right, but there's nothing here, I know there's nothing here. We would have found it by now if there was... It's been almost 10 hours... 10 hours, God, Bruno! "Alright, Jim, I'll stick around, for now."

He started to leave, but Brass called him back, "Hey, where're you going?"

"Home," he almost grinned at Jim's shocked expression and continued on to his car. Sara'll never forgive me if I forget Bruno... even for her.

By the time he arrived at his townhouse, the rain had stopped completely and Vegas was bathed in the brilliant red glow of sunrise. Bruno was waiting expectantly at the door, and barely paused to give him a cursory lick before rushing out. After completing his business, he made his usual tour of the fence, making sure that no intruders had encroached on his territory. Task completed, he trotted back to where Grissom stood watching in the doorway, and thrust his head under his master's hand.

Grissom patted him idly, then filled his food bowl, watching in amazement as he inhaled his meal, then trotted over looking expectantly for more. "You're a good boy. Sorry I left you so long, but Sara --" Bruno looked up expectantly at her name, and trotted back to the door, peering out through the window. Grissom had to fight back tears as he watched their dog waiting hopefully for the rest of his pack. "She's not here boy, but she'll be okay. She's strong, your mom, a real fighter... Did I ever tell you about the first time your mom and I finally got together? You weren't around yet. It was a Sunday, about two years ago, and..."

Curling onto the couch with Bruno tucked against his front, Grissom continued to reminisce about Sara, hand softly stroking the short fur, massaging the wrinkles, scratching the skin of his companion, feeling a slight sense of calm trying to breach his fear. Hoping against hope that his phone would ring, bring him those two phrases he longed to hear, "We found her. She's alive."

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TBC

A/N: Feedback greatly appreciated! Nitpicks welcome. Just go hit that little review button... you know you want to...