Chapter Seven

Catherine fumbled with her cell phone as she entered her car, sitting in the parking lot in front of Sara's apartment complex. With one shaking hand she held the scribbled number and dialed it with her other. As the phone rang on the other end, she stuck her keys in the transmission and backed out.

"Hello?" came the man's voice.

"Is…is this Max?" she asked impatiently.

"Yes." He sounded slightly confused.

"Hi there. Umm…I-I'm Catherine Willows—a colleague of Sara…and-and she told me to call you." She pulled out into the street and continued to speak. "She's been arrested, and apparently the only people who know why are you and her and the cops who did it!"

Silence.

"Hello?" she asked.

"I'll be there in a few hours."

"Hey-Hey wait a minute! Can I at least have the basics? Come on! I've got hardly any context here! All I know is that it's a murder and she was only 12 when it happened!"

He let out a whoosh of air on the other end and replied, "That's all you need to know right now. I'm coming to Las Vegas—I want to talk to her and see how she's doing. She gave you my number?"

"She said you'd tell me everything I needed to know."

"I will then, when I get there. I'll Mapquest the way to the lab. Where do you want to meet me?"

Catherine sighed as she made a turn, heading for the lab. "I'll be in the front of the building, waiting for you."

"Grissom! What the hell?" Nick shouted, storming into the office, but finding that Warrick and Greg were already in there, simmering angrily in opposite corners. It was long before their shift started, but that didn't seem to matter. The Texan's gaze fleeted between the two of them, but then rested finally on Grissom, sitting at his desk, with his face resting in one hand.

"Did you know?" Nick asked furiously. "Did you know she was in trouble?"

The older man shook his head. "I had no idea of the circumstances. I figured something wasn't right, but I had no clue about anything else."

"We met that detective," Warrick muttered from the bench on the left side of the office. "Sara knows him. She was really upset when she saw him."

"Yeah, really upset," Greg added from the right side of the room. "She was pissed. Like…worse than pissed-at-Ecklie pissed."

Nick sighed through his nose, like an angry dragon, before he decided to sit in the chair by Grissom's desk. "Well what can we do?" he asked. "Do we bail her out? Go talk to her? What?"

Grissom sighed. He was almost positive what murder she'd been accused of. Why she'd been arrested was a different story. The other men had no clue why or how or what and Grissom couldn't tell them unless Sara gave the go ahead. But this may have been a good thing, since he felt he was missing a big piece of the larger picture. What evidence had suddenly shown itself and gotten Sara put in jail?

His thoughts were interrupted by voices outside his office that grew closer and closer. Catherine was familiar, but she was speaking to an unfamiliar man.

The two rounded the corner into Grissom's office, gathering the many stares of the people inside. Max nodded and gave a small wave at them, and Catherine cleared her throat.

"Umm…everyone, this is Mr. Max Hall. He worked with Sara in San Francisco and he apparently knows a whole lot more about her than any of us, so he came to umm, inform us."

Max greeted them again as Catherine swept into the room and seated herself beside Warrick on the bench.

"Please, sit down," Grissom said coolly, gesturing at the chair beside Nick. The room was dead silent as Max headed over with a quick thank you and sat himself down. "How long have you known Sara?" Grissom questioned quietly, analyzing the man with his gaze.

"Since we were kids," Max said with a nod as he tapped his fingers nervously on the arms of the chair. The many stares made him uncomfortable. He scratched his stubble gently and rubbed his hand behind his head. "Umm…I'm not entirely sure where to begin for this."

"Anywhere," Nick said with a hint of annoyance, not at Max but the circumstances.

"Well, she's been arrested for a murder that took place when she was twelve years old. The Detective—Detective Rayfield, was convinced she was guilty back then, and he's still convinced today, which I guess was one of the biggest forces towards reopening the case."

"Who was killed?" Greg asked, his hands folded under his chin with his elbows on his knees.

Max turned to him, biting his tongue slightly. "Well, uhh…well." He cleared his throat. "Have any of you noticed how she acts when women are victimized in a crime?"

The CSIs mouths stayed shut but their faces spoke for them. Each and every one of their expressions clearly said yes.

"We never really knew what to think of it," Catherine said quietly. "Was she—"

"Her mother," Max interrupted. "Was abused for years by Sara's father. Physically, mentally."

Their breathing seemed to cease as they hung on Max's every word.

"I know that both her parents were alcoholics. That her mother was hospitalized a lot, and that both parents had affairs."

"Was Sara ever hurt?" Greg asked fervently.

Max shook his head. "Physically, no. Mentally, not directly." He sighed. "She didn't get hurt until the night before. I remember I'd talked to her on the walk home that evening. We talked about…" He ran his hand through his hair again. "Her mother, Laura, was having the affair with my dad, see? That's what we ended up talking about, and that was the last time I saw her that night. I know that my dad and her mom were at her house when she got back and that's what got her dad angry. He was beating her mom, when she came downstairs and tried to stop him…"

Every one of them was slowly taking in the information, numbed and dumbstruck as they soaked in each new word. To think she'd walked among them, acting as if nothing had ever happened. They'd yelled at her for getting emotional and personal, when she was only trying to do her job as best she could while suppressing her past.

"What happened? What'd she do?" Warrick asked calmly.

"She tried to fight him off. He ended up grabbing her wrist and throwing her against a wall, where she hit her head. That's pretty much all she got around to telling me, when we were kids and when we worked together. She wouldn't talk about…couldn't talk about finding the body."

"Her mother?" Nick asked.

"Father," Max replied flatly, throwing a glance towards the man. "He was stabbed in his sleep."

"And now…this detective thinks that she's the guilty one? The one who stabbed him?" Nick questioned softly.

Max nodded. "He found DNA on the knife, and her fingerprint. My brother is another detective in the same force. He's not working on the case, but he's managing to get information about what they have. He called me right after Catherine and told me about her arrest. Her mother was arrested previously for the murder. She didn't confess, but she didn't say she hadn't done it. Now she's placing the blame on Sara, which is another thing that got the case opened. Rayfield looked into Sara's background and got a hold of information on a DUI? And insubordinate behavior?"

Grissom's eyes hardened and his mouth opened slightly. "How did he get that information?"

The man shrugged. "He must have gotten it from somebody who works here, has access to it."

All eyes were on Grissom now. "Ecklie…" he managed through gritted teeth.

He flew out of his chair and stormed out of the office, one destination in mind. Catherine shot out of her seat and followed him, leaving the four other men alone.

"Ecklie!" Grissom shouted, barging into his office without introduction. The other man jumped and looked up from a pile of paperwork. When he saw who it was, he glared.

"Gil!" Catherine hissed from the doorway. "Don't do anything stupid!" she warned as the two men continued to stare each other down.

"Why did you give them that information on Sara?" Grissom yelled, his two hands on the front of Ecklie's desk.

Ecklie stood, matching Grissom's stance. "Gil, don't be ridiculous! I played only a small, nearly insignificant part in her arrest. I gave them some insight into her character at work, and that was all. Now…my part in having her fired is a completely different matter."

"You're firing her?!"

"She's been arrested for murder!" Ecklie spat. "I would rather lose one good CSI than the hundreds of cases that would be tainted!"

"She is not a murderer."

"The evidence says otherwise."

"Then I want to see that evidence," Grissom said sternly, straightening up as he continued glaring at Ecklie.

"I'm afraid that isn't—"

"Give him a go, Conrad," said a voice from the door.

The two men looked up and saw Detective Rayfield standing next to Catherine who was looking at the familiar man with a loathsome expression.

"Ah, yes, Detective. Come on in," Ecklie said with a sinister smile.

"Thank you, Conrad." The old man entered and seated himself in a chair beside Ecklie. "Now, Mr. Grissom. You wanted to see that evidence?"

"Yes," he replied tightly.

"Then you'll see it. I'll let you have a look at it, and Ms. Willows as well, if she likes. Under my supervision, you can go ahead and look through everything. And once you're through, I want you to tell me…is your Sara a murderer or not? I think you'll be surprised by your newfound deduction."

Both Catherine and Grissom glared.

Sara sat cross-legged on the floor of her cell, her head resting against the wall and her eyes closed. Her face was tear-stained and her arms were folded in her lap. She'd been given hours to think, and she wasn't enjoying a single minute of it. Her arrest had been mulled over and over again in her head and she couldn't help but wonder what Max would tell Catherine if she decided to call. What would people know? Once they knew, would they still think to come and talk to her? She hung her head and stared at her fingers.

Suddenly doors opened and shut and she could hear a guard speaking. She looked up at the entryway to the holding cells, searching for a familiar face. When all she saw was the big, burly guard, her face turned back to her lap, and she heaved a sigh. Footsteps neared, and she glanced up again to see Greg standing at the bars to her cell.

"Hey," he said. "You want to talk or just sit there?"

She shrugged, picking at her thumbnail. "Did…umm, Catherine call Max?" she asked softly, sniffing a little.

Greg nodded, sticking his hands through the bars and leaning against them.

"And did he tell you everything?" she mumbled low, still avoiding eye contact.

He said nothing for a moment, gazing at her, sitting there on the floor, looking the sorriest and most pitiful he'd ever seen her. "Sara, I'm sorry," he said softly. "I shouldn't have pressured you to tell me, I'm sorry. I…I realize now, how hard it would have been for you to explain."

Sara sniffed again, shaking her head. "No, don't be sorry. I wanted to tell you. I did. But I couldn't." Tears leaked and she swiped at them.

"When's your arraignment?"

"Later tonight. My lawyer still has to get here." She let go of a shuddering sigh and placed her face in her hands. "There's really no point. I don't have the money for bail."

"Well I'm sure we could get it for you," Greg pointed out.

Her face grew distorted as a sob threatened, and she took in a gasping breath to stop it. She had yet to make eye contact with him. "Why would anybody want to? Catherine and I have butted heads before, Nick and Warrick probably don't think of me as anything more than a colleague, Grissom—don't even go there, and you…" She gave small sob. "I was so mean to you…I treated you like a little kid when you worked in the lab."

With a small sigh, he rolled his eyes. "Sara, come here…" he commanded gently.

Slowly she staggered to her feet, shuffling over towards him. He reached through the bars and set his hands on her upper arms, staring determinedly into her teary eyes, though her gaze was averted. "Yoohoo, look at me."

Sniveling, she looked into his eyes for the first time.

"Sara, do you have any idea how upset we were when we found out you'd been arrested? We're on your side with this. Grissom and Catherine are going to take a look at the evidence. Nick and Warrick are talking about your bail already. And Max is here in Vegas waiting to talk to you. We're going to help you get through this, okay?" He gave her a smile, and she returned one bleakly. His hands fell from her arms and went to his pockets. She leaned her elbows on the bars and sighed.

"It's just…" Sara began again. "I don't…I haven't…I didn't tell anybody before—"

"That doesn't matter. We know what's going on, and we should be the ones to—"

"No, Greg…this is different." She took in a breath. "Greg, I don't remember much…I can only remember a few small things. The amount I remember is so small I can't even…I…I only remember background information. I don't remember the actual act, or what I did, or…I can only think of are colors and feelings and people telling me that my mother killed him. I don't remember knowing she did it. Does that make any sense at all?"

"Umm…I think so," he replied, though he sounded slightly confused.

"It's alright if it doesn't because, honestly, I don't understand it all that much either…"

The guard suddenly spoke up, telling them to hurry it up.

"I guess I'll talk to you later then," Greg said.

Sara nodded. "Bye…"

And he was gone.