Chapter 4

Sara walked down the hall a few days later, arriving from a scene. Grissom and her had planned another breakfast and she was feeling a bit better, despite knowing that this breakfast would lead to where all the other meals lead—to a split check and separate apartments. All the same, the occasional meals were nice. Their flirting, no matter any official stance, had not abated. From talk about sex in airplanes to flirty smiles to staying up all night watching a pig carcass and sharing a thermos of coffee, their relationship had remained playful and dangerously close to temptation without ever crossing the line.

Lately, however, Grissom and Sara's conversations had become a bit more serious during breakfast. The day before, they had talked about Sara's emotions on the job.

"I can't help it." Sara said defensively.

"Yes, you can. We all do. You need to as well. Emotions cloud judgment. You need to get them under control. At least on the outside. It is not at all reassuring when someone in the law enforcement crew shows their anger or sadness or even happiness. You need to learn to show a flatter affect." He was trying to say all this as kindly as possible, but the words still sear Sara's brain.

"So how you reacted to Zachary Andersen's murder is ok, but my emotions are not?" Sara knew this was a touchy subject but felt she needed to push.

Grissom suddenly remembered stooping to pick up the infant. How small and cold he felt. How angry he was when the Doc had said the baby's death was not an accident. He remembered his first case. It had been a little girl, two months old. It had been the hardest case of his career. Zachary reminded him of it.

"He was a baby. It was different." Grissom finally responded as he crossed his arms.

"I don't think it is Grissom. They're all people." She looked pointedly at him.

"Well, I guess you can't say I don't feel things, then." He raised his eyebrows at Sara.

"I guess not, but you don't show them like the rest of us. You don't show them like I do."

"I control them most of the time."

"I have emotions, I'll try to hide them as much as possible, but if this is really a problem for you, then maybe I should apply to work somewhere else."

"That's not what I'm saying. It is certainly not what I want." He looked at her, "I'm just trying to help you do your job better. Will you try?"

"I'll try. I'm not a robot, though. I don't know how much you feel or don't, but I won't ever be like you."

"I never asked you to be."

They finished their breakfast quickly after that and had a little more conversation about the case from a few days ago. No one at the lab realized their breakfasts were more like therapy sessions and one on one seminars than anything resembling romantic.

The whole lab, however, knew that there was some serious chemistry between the two most work obsessed employees and their frequent breakfasts didn't help the gossip. Nick and Warrick often speculated about the nature of the relationship.

"Do you think they ever crossed that boundary" Nick asked over a burger at lunch.

"I dunno, man. Grissom? I mean, I kinda thought he was asexual," Warrick responded.

"He flirts with women all over the lab all the time. He's not as asexual as you think."

"Really?"

"Oh Yeah. I just wonder what the history between Sara and him is."

"She's a total fox," Warrick began, "He'd be stupid not to if the offer were there."

"But he's her supervisor. That could cause problems." Nick took a sip of his soda.

"Whatever. This is the new Millennium. Who cares? They could figure something out."

"So you do think they have a history?"

"That much is certain." Warrick got up and exited the break room.

The whole team was working on, what looked to be, a serial murder case. The first girl was found raped, bound, and bludgeoned to death. There was evidence of repeated strangulation attempts. It had the whole team was on edge and working overtime.

Sara had just gotten back from the second scene. The same signature, different MO. It made her sick. Why had she been so lucky as a college student and these two women not? She wanted to catch this guy so badly she could taste it.

"Hey Sar." Warrick joined her in the layout room and glanced at the photos that Sara was looking at.

"Hey Rick, how's it going?" She didn't look up.

"Things are alright. Just wish we could nail this guy. Any new leads?"

"Nothing. No finger prints, no hair, no nothing. Just a dead girl posed like a a playboy girl. It makes me sick."

"Makes us all on edge." Warrick lowered his voice, "how are you coping?"

"Me?" She looked up at him finally. "I'm fine. I just want to catch this guy."

"We all do. When was the last time you had a day off?"

"Why?" Sara was quick on the defensive and short with her answer.

Warrick could feel the cracking below him, signaling the thin ice he had just tread upon. "Just wonderin'."

"A few weeks ago. Working makes me feel better."

"Yeah, well, don't get greedy with the overtime." Warrick attempted to lighten the mood and they both laughed.

Just then they were both paged. 187 flashed across her pager with an address. Her heart sunk, she knew this was another girl.

When she arrived, she walked in with her forensics kit past several officers. She turned the corner to the bedroom and took one look at the victim. Before she could stop herself, "Dammit!"

Grissom turned around and grabbed Sara's shoulder "Sara, come here."

"Damn that guy!" Sara was loosing control.

He was talking quickly to her in the hallway. "Listen, no emotions in here."

"He's escalating, Grissom--" Sara began but Grissom cut her off.

"That's the pattern, it's a continuum."

"Guess he wants to get caught." Sara crossed her arms.

"Signature killers never want to get caught, and they won't stop until they are. Go see if you can find any hairs or fibers. Maybe we'll get lucky."

Sara and Warrick combed the scene but found no hair or fibers save on hair on the bed. Sara also looked for prints, but there were none. The Sheriff, meanwhile, requested Grissom's presence. The Feds were being brought in. If anything could have made things worse, this was it.

Grissom excused himself from the Sheriff and the Special Agent, what's-his-name and saw the Doc about his victim's autopsy. He shortly met with his team in the lab when he nearly collided with his crew in the hall. It was like a stampede to an unfamiliar locale and it became clear that Grissom hadn't been invited.

"Hey Grissom, you need something? I'm on my way back to the crime scene." Nick caught Grissom in the hall.

"I'm going to evidence."

"Well, I just got paged about the signature case." Then Sara and Warrick joined the other two in the hall, striding toward where the FBI was stationed in the lab.

Sara said something but her words were drowned out by his thoughts as he saw

men is suits filing into the room. He turned the corner to find Special Agent Couldpepper meeting with various people, clearly about the case.

The special agent looked up, "Ya'll got my page. Good."

"I didn't," Grissom said pointedly.

"We'll get you a new battery," the agent said, brushing Grissom off. "I thought we'd convo about the strangler. Hear what you got. Tell you what we think our next move should be."

Grissom realized his case was being taken from him. He turned around and said to his team, "Would you guys go back to my office please? I'll be in in a few minutes." They turned to leave, but Sara only turned the corner so she could hear what was being said. She knew what this meeting was about.

As she left the scene earlier that morning, she had been in a bit of a rage, still, and one of the FBI agents by the name of Cirksend asked her if she was alright.

"Need to blow off some stream?" He asked.

"I'm just so frustrated with this killer! I can't help it. I would do almost anything to stop him." Sara replied.

The agent looked at Sara. She looked like the type. Tall, brunette, strong. She could be a decoy. "We, actually, my have a proposition for you. If you'll agree." Cirksend was in charge of special operations in the FBI homicide devision. "You fit the profile. We could wire you up, follow you, and place you where the killer seems to be finding these women. You would be totally safe and would be helping to stop the murderer."

Sara thought about this for about a second before agreeing. "Absolutely. Sign me up."

"We'll let you know when the operation is in place. For now, don't tell anyone and standby.

"I'll be happy to relay any pertinent information to my team." Grissom was not even trying to be civil.

"Fine. Got anything to report to us?" The agent asked.

"You first." Grissom replied.

"OK. We have an operation in place. Your CSI Sidle has expressed an interest to my agents in availing herself and we wanted to let you know before we made the official offer."

Grissom looked down. His heart sank. He knew Sara was frustrated with how long this was taking, but volunteering yourself to these people was almost like feeding yourself to the wolves.

Sara began to poke her head back into the room to hear better what was going on. She heard her name and knew that it was only a matter of time before she would have to defend herself.

"What kind of operation?" He asked Agent Couldpepper.

"Well, let's talk about your great capacity for observation. Sara Sidle matches the victim prototype to a T. She's a young woman, burnette, tall for a female." the agent continued to say as Grissom looked behind him to see Sara meekly entering the room. Grissom's jaw dropped as he turned to face the FBI agent as the reality dawned on him. They were planning to bait him. Like you use to catch fish. Chum, like you use to lure sharks to a boat.

"You're not serious." Grissom began.

"And by all reports, she steady. Has the right personality for a decoy operation." The man continued.

"You're going to bait this guy with a human being? This is your big FBI plan?" Grissom's words dripped with disparagement.

"Before he kills again, yes," said Agent Couldpepper, "Got a better idea?"

"Understanding him first, completely. So we can get ahead of him," Grissom answered. Sara adjusted uncomfortably behind him. She was obviously impatient with Grissom's answer.

"And if he kills again while we are trying to understand him?"

"Well, I'm sorry, but he's not going to kill my CSI!" Grissom said.

Sara had lost her patience. She was tired of these men talking about her like she wasn't there. "I'm going to to it Grissom."

Grissom reeled around to look at her. This was the last thing he expected her to do. His mouth gaped open.

"I want to," she continued.

"You want to put yourself in the path of a psychotic killer!" He retorted.

"I'm trained in weaponless defense."

"Well that's too bay because that's what turns him on, women fighting back." Grissom was loosing his cool now, "Gives him a greater sense of power when he finally makes his kill."

"Grissom--"

"Sit down Sara." Grissom would hear no more here. She slowly complied while Grissom spun around to continue his staring contest with the agent.

Agent Couldpepper knew he was defeated right then. Lost that scrimmage but he would try again. "OK. If we're to follow your line of thinking, you got a head of him?"

"Not yet." Grissom's words were cold. "He knows just enough about forensics to be dangerous. He thinks he throwing us off track by planting confederate hairs. He probably shaves his head, maybe his entire body as DNA protection. He may gag his victims using a garden variety bath towel which he then takes with him as part of his murder kit. He will go after another tall brunette and this time the torture will be worse. But this time, he won't ejaculate. At least not at the scene."

"At home later, learning control," the agent finished.

"Think he knows his next victim?" Sara asked.

"Signature killers always know their next victim. But they don't know him." Grissom turned to look into Sara's eyes, "Until he tortures, rapes, and kills them."

Grissom stayed late at the lab. He had so much on his mind, he couldn't even think about going home. His most trusted CSI was talking about taking over the night shift supervisorship. The woman he was friends with, who had come to this lab on his own recommendation, was offering herself as bait, his case was being turned into a circus by the Feds, and he still hadn't caught this serial killer.

He picked up his jacket and walked over to the police station to visit with Brass. He called Brass first.

"Brass."

"Hey, it's Grissom, I was wondering if you were busy." Grissom never asked this kind of question.

Brass replied, "Not at all. Why?"

"I'm feeling a bit claustrophobic in the lab."

"Common' over and we'll have some brandy." Brass always had a bottle in his office.

Grissom was soon sitting in the chair opposite Brass going over possible suspects. It wasn't until Brass mentioned the FBI that his heckles raised. "When did you become friendly with the Feds? I didn't think you had that in you."

"Never make an enemy when you can just as easily make a friend," Brass quipped. "FBI's OK. I've kissed worse ass. I godda say, I don't like this decoy OP that they're talking up. I remember when Holly Gribbs died. I sent her out in the field and she wasn't ready."

Grissom leaned in, concern scrawled across his face. "I told Cauldpepper that he could not have Sara."

"I know what he told you..."