Hye readers! Here the next chapter, hope you enjoy it : )
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"Vodka."
"Vodka?"
Catherine pressed fingers to her temples, closing her eyes for a brief moment. "If you want me to explain all this to you, I'm going to need vodka."
Sara let her pass through the study door and followed the blonde to the kitchen. Finding that Lindsey had left, Sara sat herself on one of the breakfast bar stools. Catherine had already taken a bottle of vodka from the freezer and was in the process of mixing it with orange juice. She took several large swallows of the mixture before speaking.
"Do you remember the Phillips case about three months ago?"
Sara nodded. Who didn't? It wasn't every day a man gouges the eyes out of his whole family, including the dog.
John Phillips had murdered his family and the family dog, and then, ironically, had proceeded to scoop out their eyes with a Phillips screw driver. With such substantial evidence of finger prints, hair fibers, and the screwdriver was owned by John himself it seemed a simple open shut case, no one in their right mind would let Phillips go free. That was until the copy-cat came into the picture.
"I don't know a lot. But I've been reading about it in the papers. The copy-cat's causing a bit of shit show in the media."
Catherine patted her pockets as though searching for cigarettes. "A 'shit show'…what a simple way to put it." She laughed humorlessly. "The copy-cat, William Thorsby, has the same M.O as Phillips other than that his victims are strangers and all women. The connection between the cases is tenuous, but the media loves it. As you said, every fucking paper broadcasted that the police may have the wrong person up for murder charges. Now we've got the media and the mayor breathing down our necks speculating CSI's credibility! About a week ago every piece of evidence pertaining to the case against Phillips was deemed questionable. We've been fucking re-collecting evidence and statements."
"But once you get everything-"
"Yeah that was the plan. Seemed simple enough, right? Well, Ecklie decided that FOR CSI to be truly 'credible' we had to bring in some new people on the case to go over the evidence." She paused swigging her glass back, impressively draining the glass in one mouthful. She slammed the glass down and began pouring orange juice.
"Okay, Ecklie's an ass. No news there. So what happened?"
"Fucking rookie." Catherine growled. "They brought in a fucking rookie on the case. Been working as a CSI under a year."
Sara gaped. "A rookie?"
Catherine answer was a grunt and the slosh of vodka.
"What was Ecklie thinking!"
"Apparently it wasn't Ecklie's doing. Oh, Ecklie came up with the fantastic 'let's bring in someone new' idea, but it was the Mayor who pushed for Thompson."
"Thompson?"
"Erik Thompson, the rookie. Apparently he's the godson of the mayor."
"Jesus."
Catherine closed her eyes, breathing heavily. "I can't believe I was so stupid as to let him leave with the evidence bags. Godammit. How could I have been so stupid?"
"He didn't…"
Catherine opened her eyes. "He did."
"He left the evidence in his car?"
"Overnight. Someone broke in and stole most of it, along with Thompson's CD player. We're pretty sure it was random." Catherine raised her empty glass. "And thus, the total fuckedness of this case."
"Jesus." Sara repeated.
"The media is going to go fucking apeshit crazy over this. 'CSI: How Those Crazy Fuckups Messed Up Again!'" Catherine dropped her head into her hands, massaging her eyes.
"Put me on it." Sara said suddenly.
Catherine looked up. "What?"
"The case. Put me on it."
"Sara you know I can't, you're still on sick-leave."
"I'm a lot better. Seriously. My doctor even says I can move back home. Put me on the case Cath. You're going to have to bring in new people, but you need to make the preemptive move before Ecklie gets another brilliant idea. Put me on it."
Catherine stared at Sara a moment, then turned and put the mostly empty vodka bottle back in the freezer. Turning back to Sara she nodded.
"Okay. You're on."
Sara flashed a brief smile.
--
It was a bit odd, coming back to work after sick-leave. Not that anything had changed in the CSI building. The corridors still had the same florescent lighting and faint smell of coffee and bleach. But somehow, Sara felt different. She smiled politely when people she was barely acquainted with came up to her telling her how they heard she'd been shot, and how glad they were she was okay. She silently wondered if they would even know who she was if she wasn't wearing the sling.
Sara made her way to the break room. Entering the room she was immediately engulfed by a hug. Four arms surrounded her.
"Um, guys? Air?"
When free she stared up into two smiling faces.
"You look great." Warrick said, scanning her full cheeks. "Putting on some weight, Sidle? Been sitting around eating all day while we work and starve like dogs here?"
Sara punched Warrick's arm and scowled, "I so haven't gained weight."
"Whatever. I always thought you were too skinny anyhow." Nick said grinning.
"You guys are so on my shit list."
Warrick laughed, then just as quickly his smile disappeared. "Cath said she was bringing you in on the Phillip's case."
"Yeah, I almost had to beg her for it."
Nick nodded. "She's been pretty protective of you. She's all 'no, Nick, you can't take Sara to an eleven finger's concert, not in her condition.' You'd think you were dying." Sara giggled at his high-voiced impression.
"I like to think my voice is a bit more throaty than whiney."
Sara, Warrick and Nick all turned in union to the doorway. Catherine was leaning against the door jam.
"Hey Cath," Sara said, smiling. Sara had moved back into her apartment the night before. It was strange how she had been craving having her privacy back, but now that she had it, she kind of missed the noise of living with other people.
Nick had the decency she appear shamefaced. "Hey Cath,"
Catherine entered the room, her face suddenly very serious. "Sara's been brought up to speed on the situation, so I suggest we start as soon as possible."
"Re-recollecting evidence?" Nick said.
Catherine's left eye twitched. "Uh huh."
"Fuckin' A." Warrick said.
--
Sara paused mid step.
"Grissom's here?"
Catherine looked at Grissom who was kneeled in the flower bed. "Yeah, y'know, 'all hands on deck', yadda yadda."
Grissom looked up as they approached.
"Hey Cath,"
"What's up Griss."
"I got a call from the Mayor this morning."
"Huh, you don't say."
Grissom's mouth quirked into a half smile, "Well done."
Catherine grinned. "Thanks." Looking past Grissom she suddenly frowned. "I told those fuckers twice to get those cameras out of here. Hey, asshole! You! Yeah you, fucker! How many times do I have to…" Sara and Grissom watched Catherine stomp away.
"Sara." Grissom said, finally acknowledging her.
"Grissom."
He glanced at her arm in the sling, his face expressionless. "How are you? Better?"
"Much. Thanks."
"Good."
Grissom then looked back down at the finger print he had been lifting. As he went back to work, Sara's stared at him, her mouth a grim line.
Fine, she thought, if he wants to play it this way that's just fine. She stalked away. However, if she had been paying attention, she may have noticed how Grissom's hands were shaking ever so slightly.
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as always r&r is appreciated : )