Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: Big, massive, huge thanks to Sue aka Golden Grasshopper who served as beta for this chapter while PhDelicious was out of town. Also, as ever, my thanks to everyone reading:) Also, there are spoilers in this chapter for 7x04 "Fannysmackin", so proceed with caution.

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Courtney Wallace

by Kristen Elizabeth

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There were a lot of old guys in Las Vegas who drove white, Japanese cars. But something must have been wrong with the search, because my killer's name didn't come up on the list that Sara made. I know because I was with her when she ran down all the names and compared them to people in my neighborhood and at my school.

I could tell Sara was really frustrated when she crossed out the last name. It had taken over a week and she didn't really have anything new. Plus she had another case that she was in the middle of. I'd just had a lot of fun watching her kick a dummy.

She put her head on her arm for a long time. She probably would have stayed like that a lot longer if her phone hadn't rung.

"Sidle," she answered like she always did, even when she knew it was Gil. She listened, and while she listened, I noticed that her face got really pale. "Is he all right?" She listened some more and I think she almost dropped her phone. She had to catch it with her other hand. "I'll be right there. What? No, Sofia…I'm not waiting for Grissom to assign anything. I'm coming now!"

She drove like crazy to get to wherever we were going, and once we were there, she just jumped out and ran. She didn't even shut her car door. I ran with her all the way to the crime scene. But I stopped when I heard Greg's name.

I hadn't ever seen that much blood. My murder was pretty blood-free. But Greg…someone had really hurt him. I was afraid that the blonde detective was lying to Sara, and he really was dead. I think Sara thought that, too.

Sara took one of his hands and I put my hand over his other one. She stroked his hair and they talked for a little while before the paramedics put him on a stretcher and took him away.

She hadn't cried in front of him, but once Greg was gone and she was back in her car, she cried so hard her whole body shook.

I went to see Greg in the hospital. He looked so awful. All purple and swollen. But I felt like I should stay with him. He'd been there for me those times when I'd sat with him after watching my killer rubbing up against my clothes. Now I was going to get to be there for him.

The first time he managed to get his eye open, I was sitting right next to his bed. No one else was there, not even the nurses. It was just him and me.

He blinked the one eye and looked around as much as he could. And even though up until then I really thought that there was no way anyone living could see anyone who was dead…I think he saw me.

I waved at him. Greg lifted his arm and wriggled his fingers at me before he fell back asleep.

Later on, he told Nick that he saw dead people. Nick told him it was the drugs, and that when he'd been in the hospital, he'd seen Elvis.

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Gil met my killer for the first time two months after my body was found. But it didn't have anything to do with my murder. At least not at first.

The other girl on my killer's wall had gone missing. Marissa O'Brian. She was in seventh grade at a different junior high than the one I'd gone to. Gil and Warrick were working to find her. They wouldn't find her alive. I hadn't watched her murder, but I saw her clothes on my killer's bed.

My killer was on a list of people who knew Marissa. Gil knocked on my killer's door two days after she disappeared. Seeing them together was so weird. I wished Sara was there. She would have recognized my killer from my funeral, I know she would have. But Gil hadn't seen my killer there. And he didn't know that Captain Brass had already been to this house.

"Hello," Gil greeted my killer. "My name is Gil Grissom. I'm with the Las Vegas Police Department. I'm investigating the disappearance of Marissa O'Brian."

"Yes, I was so sorry to hear about that," my killer said. "I'm praying that you find her safe. She's a great kid."

"You do know her then?"

My killer nodded. "I did a little tutoring over the summer to help pay the bills. She was one of my students."

"When was the last time you saw Marissa?"

"Oh gee." My killer pretended to think. "Our last session was sometime in late July."

"You haven't seen her since?"

"No. Sorry."

I wanted to scream at Gil, to tell him to go inside. He'd find the clothes and our pictures and it would all be over.

"May I ask where you were two days ago?"

"Fishing at Lake Mead," my killer said.

I looked at Gil. He was looking my killer straight in the eye. "Catch anything?"

"Three striped bass."

Gil smiled, but it wasn't friendly. "Thank you for your time."

He drove us to the police station, and we walked straight to Captain Brass's office. "Jim," he said. "Can you run a background check on William Lapinski?"

Captain Brass was eating lunch. Turkey sandwich. It looked really good. "Why do I know that name?"

Gil frowned. "I don't know. Why do you know that name?"

He was still chewing as he pulled out some files from his drawer. He'd swallowed by the time he found what he was looking for. "William Lapinski. 12528 Caldwell St?"

"Yes."

"I interviewed him." Captain Brass handed the file to Gil. "He was Courtney Wallace's science teacher."

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It's really weird, but every now and then, I can remember Mr. Lapinski. It gets fuzzier each time, but he's still there, somewhere really deep in my mind. The first time I remembered him was the night my body was found. Even though I like Gil now, I only seem to think about Mr. Lapinski when I see him. But it's not Gil's fault. He can't help having grey hair and glasses.

There's Mr. Lapinski who taught me the difference between a stalactite and stalagmite, and had this paperweight that looked like a rock on the outside, but was filled with beautiful purple crystals inside. And then there's my killer who tied me up, tore me open and put his hands around my throat until I stopped breathing. Even though they have the same face, they're two totally different people to me.

And I want to keep them that way. Because I really liked Mr. Lapinski. He never creeped me out or anything. I wouldn't have gotten into his car if he hadn't always been nice to me. It's almost like my killer also killed Mr. Lapinski. And now my favorite teacher is just this memory I sometimes have when I see someone who looks like him.

I really don't think Mr. Lapinski wanted to turn into my killer. He just wanted to be with me like Gil and Sara were together on Gil's sofa. He took me to the lake because he thought I'd like it there. But I didn't want to be with him like that. So I kicked and I hit and I tried to get away. So he had to tie me up with the bright green cords he had in his trunk. Maybe if I'd just let him do what he wanted, he would've let me go home.

It was my fault I got killed. I did something to make Mr. Lapinski want me like that. I just don't know what it was.

Whatever it was though, Marissa must have done it, too.

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"William Lapinski," Sara said it out loud, like she was testing it out. "Forty-one years old. Las Vegas resident. He's taught earth science at McKinley Junior High for the past three years. Before that, he lived in…Idaho. Huh, land of the potato."

Gil did this little half-smile thing he does. "I think they have corn, too."

"By all accounts, he's a dedicated teacher. His credit is great. He's only ever had parking tickets. He's still single at forty-one, but…" She looked at Gil. "…that's not always an accurate gauge for abnormality." With a big sigh, she put the file down. "But he knew both of the victims. It's a link, but will it get us a warrant?"

"We've gotten warrants based on less."

Sara sat on the edge of his desk. I sat next to her, swinging my legs back and forth. I was nervous. It was like they were so close. But I had this weird feeling that it just wouldn't be so easy. "Forty-one seems a little young for Judy Jones's description of an older man."

"I was finding grey in my late thirties."

She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair. "But it looks so good on you."

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. "There's something about this guy," he said. "I can't describe it. He just…"

"Creeped you out?"

Gil gave her his look. He only ever used it when she teased him. "He was too smooth. Like he'd rehearsed all of his answers a hundred times in the mirror."

He probably had. He was a really good liar. I remembered all the lies he'd told me.

Come on. I'll give you a ride. You don't want your ice cream to melt before you get to enjoy it, do you?

This is a back way to get to your house. Takes a little longer, but it's prettier, don't you think?

I only want to kiss you. Just one little kiss and I'll take you home.

It won't hurt for long if you just lie still!

I love you, Courtney. I never wanted to hurt you…

"And his alibi," Gil went on. "He gave the same one to Jim. Fishing at Lake Mead."

"Gives him a nice, neat excuse if we find any trace from the lake on his car," Sara said, crossing her arms. "Do we know what kind of car he drives?"

"According to the DMV, a 1994 Chevy Cavalier."

"Not even foreign," Sara said. "Much less Japanese."

"It's small and sporty. Easily confused for a Japanese make by someone who drives a shopping cart."

"Is it white?" she asked.

Gil nodded.

"Well, that could get him in a line-up. We could see if Judy Jones picks him out." She was quiet for a second, and I knew something was bothering her. I was a little surprised. I really thought she'd go after anyone who might be my killer. But it turned out Gil was the one who wanted to put handcuffs on him. Sara looked like she wasn't quite ready.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"It's just...monsters like this take years to build up. You know that. If I'm finding it hard to believe that a mild-mannered science teacher from Idaho woke up one morning and couldn't resist kidnapping, raping and murdering Courtney Wallace, what will a jury think?" She got off his desk. "I trust your instincts above anyone else's. Even my own. But if this is our guy…I don't want him getting off on some technicality because we got ahead of the evidence."

I think I understood most of what she was saying. She just wanted to be sure. That was okay. Gil must have thought so, too, because he closed his eyes in a way that I'd learned meant he was giving in, and letting Sara have her way.

She kissed his forehead. "I'm stopping by Greg's on my way home to check on him. He asked for some paperwork to keep busy. Do you have any of his case reviews ready?"

Gil handed her a stack. I decided to go with her. Greg was getting better, but he never smiled anymore. I wondered if I'd ever hear him sing again.

"Sara." Gil stopped us before we left his office. "I don't tell you often enough how I feel about you, do I?"

"You don't have to," she said. "I'm not blind." He nodded with this small, happy smile. "You could come with me. Greg would love to see you."

"I just need to finish something here," Gil said. "I'll swing by later."

Even though I wanted to see Greg, I got curious about what Gil was up to. Besides, I could see Greg whenever I wanted to. It's one of the only fun things about being dead. You just think yourself somewhere and you're there.

As soon as she was gone, Gil opened up his laptop. I went around behind him so I could see what he was doing. He logged on to the FBI database, which was pretty cool. Some of the really sad computer nerds in my class had talked about trying to hack into the CIA or the FBI. Gil just signed right on.

I watched him type in the search engine.

Idaho. 1980 – 2003. Sexual assaults on minors, missing girls, unsolved murders.

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To Be Continued