I own nothing. So, please, don't sue me.
Thanks so much for the replies. I absolutely loved the immediate response that I got. I hadn't expected it, so it was a nice treat. I will try to not disappoint:)
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"I can't believe Grissom didn't mention it's in Pioche," Sara shook her head from the backseat.
"It is Gris, after all," Nick said, watching her in the rearview mirror briefly before turning his attention back to the road. "Maybe he figured that since we already have a bit of a relationship with the Sheriff out there, we were the best people for the job."
"Still would've been nice if he'd mentioned it," she grumbled, closing her eyes.
"Hey Sar, can I ask you a personal question?" Warrick asked quietly.
"Doesn't mean I'll answer it," she shrugged. "But go ahead."
Nick glanced curiously over at what Warrick. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of personal question . . .
"Last week, Catherine was checking out Real Estate properties in the San Francisco area on her laptop in the break room. Pretty nice places out there . . . got me wondering . . . What was the property you owned in Tamales Bay like?"
"Ten acres with a view of the Bay and the bridge," she shrugged. "Horse stables and a riding pasture, a pool, gardens. Two houses -- the big one was the Bed and Breakfast. It had seven large bedrooms, and eight bathrooms, fireplaces, a huge kitchen, wrap around porch . . . the second house was smaller, three beds, three and a half baths . . . that was where my family and I lived," she rattled off, not really thinking about it. Then she stopped and cocked an eyebrow, her own curiousity getting the better of her. "Why?"
"Sorry, I didn't think I should ask, but I was . . . uh-"
"Curious?" she offered, knowing full well that he had been very curious in deed. He nodded.
"From those figures that I saw online of similar properties . . ." Warrick said, his eyes wide . . . he let a long, low whistle escape him. "Wow doesn't even begin to describe it."
"I under priced it a little," she admitted. "I wanted a quick sale. But still, it was a lot of money. That's why Cath put me in touch with the financial planner."
"So, I assume that you became the sole owner of the property in light of," Nick said softly, "you're family situation."
She glanced down at her feet. "After my Dad died and my mom's, uh, accident," she spoke carefully, "my brother was the controlling benefactor of the Estate because he had just turned 18. I was only 12 at the time. There wasn't any cash to speak of since it was all tied up in the Bed and Breakfast. He had wanted to sell it, but I begged him not too. I thought our mom would come back to us," she swallowed around the lump forming in her throat. She caught Nick's gaze in the mirror and smiled a little. "He understood, and decided to rent it out instead. I had been placed in foster care since my parents hadn't officially named him as my Guardian. And since he was only 18, everyone naturally assumed that he couldn't, or wouldn't, take care of me. But we had always been close growing up, despite the age difference."
Warrick and Nick glanced at each other, silently surprised that Sara was speaking so openly, but not daring to interrupt her, fearing that she'd clam up, and remain a mystery. It was obvious to them that she needed to let it out.
"Brian used the money that he was getting in rent and got a good lawyer so he could officially be named my guardian," she continued quietly. Nick silently turned down the volume on the radio so they didn't have to strain to hear her words. "I was in foster care for six months . . . after we won, things started to go downhill. The memories of our family living on the property were just too much for either of us to deal with, so we rented an apartment in San Francisco, and basically tried to start a new life for ourselves. But, Brian had changed. I think everything had just started to weigh him down. He fell in with the wrong crowd and before I knew it, he was a full blown drug user. He and his friends would shoot up and snort their coke in the living room. I begged him to stop, told him I'd help him. But he was too far gone," she said quietly, willing away the tears before they could fall. "One day, I came home from school and he was convulsing on the floor. He over dosed infront of me and I couldn't stop it." She sniffed, and chuckled slightly when she felt Nick's hand reach into the back and squeezed her knee. "I'm sorry," she apologised.
"Don't be," Nick said softly. He squeezed her knee again and then let it go, bringing his hand back up to the wheel.
"What happened after he died?" Warrick asked cautiously.
Sara smiled inspite of herself. She had been holding it in for so long. She missed her brother. Her life with him after their parents were gone wasn't a lie, and although it was hard for her to talk about, she realised that she was feeling better. And she wasn't surprised that out of everyone, it had been Nick and Warrick that she opened up too. Nick had a way of setting her at ease and she'd contemplated telling him about her past on more than one occassion, but she'd always decided that it 'wasn't the right time.' More or less, she'd chicken out. And Warrick . . . well, he'd almost become like a big brother to her. He reminded her a lot of Brian before he started using.
"I was placed back in Foster Care," she sighed. "I was almost 15 by then. My foster families were less than ideal, and I had already lived alone. Technically my brother had been there, but in a way, I had been my own parent. Didn't have any rules . . . Sara Sidle having a problem with authority," she announced with a slight laugh. "Who would've guessed?"
Nick and Warrick chuckled slightly.
"Anyway, since I hadn't been of legal age yet to take over owning the property, the State took control of it. Brian and I had been paying the bills with the rent that we were getting from the B&B, then splitting the rest fifty fifty. That's how he managed to buy all his drugs . . . I had been careful and saved my money, though. So, I hired the lawyer that my brother had used, decided that I didn't want to be a 'child of the State.' I was emancipated. The lawyer made sure that the property title was put back in my name and I became the sole owner. I found a cheap apartment, saved all the money that I could, and kept renting out the B&B. There are three reasons why I wanted to be a criminalist. One of the reasons was because I wanted to help put away the guys who deal drugs and wreck families over a senseless addiction. I didn't want my brothers death to be in vain. It gave me the kick in the ass I needed to decide what I wanted from my life. Professionally speaking, anyway."
"And personally?" Warrick questioned in a teasing tone.
"I'll let you know when I figure that one out," she smirked. "Could be a while yet, though."
"So you said there were three reasons you wanted to be a criminalist," Nick stated, wondering just how much of herself she'd be willing to expose. "What're the other two reasons?" He glanced back at her in the mirror and noticed that her eyes clouded over, and she seemed to be shutting down. "It's OK," he spoke, not wanting to push her.
"Sorry," she shook her head. "I think one Sara Sidle drama-" she flinched, realising the word she'd just used, hoping it wouldn't be noticed by either of her friends, "is enough for today." She sighed in relief when she noted both Nick and Warrick's heads nodding in acknowledgement.
Nicked nodded mutely, noting her choice of words. 'Drama.' He could feel his heart breaking. She had opened up about the property and her life with her brother so easily, well easily after seven or so years, so he could only wonder what other heart breaking losses she was concealing, or demons she was battling. He didn't have much more time to wonder about Sara's past as they entered the township of Pioche.
"Address?" Nick asked Warrick who still held the assignment paper that Grissom had handed them earlier.
Sara heard Warrick tell him, and her stomach dropped. "Isn't that . . . "
"The McBride house," Nick nodded quietly confirming Sara's suspicions. Images of what Cassie told him had happened replayed themselves in his head. He smiled sadly as he pulled into the driveway, thankful that the young girl had been placed with her grandparents, in a loving and stable environment, far away from the terror the small town now reminded her of.
"Man," Warrick shuttered. "This place is cursed."
Nick and Sara said nothing, but silently agreed with his assessment. All of them felt like the house needed to be torn down, taking all of it's nightmares with it.
Silently, they parked, grabbed their gear and walked towards the house.
"What do you have for us?" Warrick asked the Sheriff who smiled warmly at the framiliar faces.
"Nice to see you all again," he nodded. "Just wish it could be under better circumstances. I can't help but wonder what is happening around here," he gazed at the night sky, as if it held the answers.
Nick smiled sadly at the kind man, nodding his head in agreement.
"Oh, God!" a young officer cursed as he made it out the front door, just in time to spew the contents of his stomach into the manicured bushes near the house.
"First DB?" Warrick questioned, looking at the cop who couldn't have been more than 22.
The Sheriff shook his head in response. "No, he transfered here from Reno last month. He couldn't handle the grisly cimes he saw there."
"That bad?" Sara asked.
"I'm not exactly sure what he's seen, but for me? Yeah, it's bad. The smell alone," he cleared his throat.
"What can you tell us?" Sara asked. "Our supervisor mentioned that you have a suspect in custody, but they aren't co-operating."
"The guys wife," he nodded. "New to town, seemed to be a nice, normal family, though. I'm just glad their daughter wasn't here. She's almost three, I think," he shook his head.
"Where is she?" Nick asked.
"My daughter, Anna, works at the diner and over heard them last week," he started. "Her Grandparents were taking her on a road trip to the Grand Canyon. This morning I stopped by the diner for breakfast. It's my Sunday morning ritual when I have to work," he explained, "they were there. My daughter was waiting on them and the little girl couldn't contain her excitment and told Anna that her Grandma and Grandpa were picking her up later in the morning for a road trip. Strange thing though. My Anna, she's real perceptive. Said that she thought the father was irritated by his daughters excitement. Said the mom wasn't much better either."
"We will need to talk to her," Warrick informed the Sheriff, who just nodded in response.
"Did you recover a weapon?" Nick asked.
"In all honesty, we haven't even gone near the body," he shook his head. "Neighbor called us," he pointed to a small ranch home not far from the old McBride residence. "Said he heard a scream coming from the house so he ran over and banged on the door, but no one answered. He was concerned, and called us. When we got here, the wife was sitting on the couch, like nothing happened. But she was covered in blood. She didn't resist when my officers detained her. I looked around and found him in the office. He was pale and lifeless. His eyes are open," he shook his head. The images would surely haunt him. "There was so much blood. I knew instantly he was dead. I didn't walk inside any further because I knew that CSIs would be out to investigate."
"Thanks," Nick finally spoke after a moment of silence. "We'll let you know what we find."
"I'll call the coroner and see what's taking him," Sheriff spoke.
As soon as she neared the house, she could smell the iron in the air. It was a scent that she was used to by now, but this time, it was different.
"Here it is," Nick commented a few feet infront of her.
"The office," Warrick announced, entering the room behind Nick. He surveyed the scene. "Looks pretty brutal."
She gasped a little when she saw the room. The blood spray, the smell, the wounds. "Looks like he was, ah . . ." she fought against the rising bile in her throat, "stabbed."
She quickly looked away. It was just like when she was 12.
"I wonder what drove her to kill him?" Nick asked aloud, to no one in particular.
"Maybe she didn't. Maybe there was someone else in the house," Rick said, thinking up senarios.
"Then why wouldn't she speak to the cops, man?" Nick asked him. "And she was covered in blood."
"In shock?"
"Maybe she was protecting herself," Sara mused quietly as she started to dust for prints. She stopped briefly, glancing up as Nick and Warrick looked for fibers or anything to collect as evidence. "The Sheriff said their daughter is about three, right?"
Nick glanced at her, wondering what she was getting at.
"Yeah," Warrick nodded. "So? He said she wasn't here."
"I just think it's weird," she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. "I didn't see any toys. You'd never know a kid lived here."
"He did say that she went with her Grandparents on a road trip, so assuming that she's safe with them, maybe her mom picked her toys up," he concluded.
Nick furrowed his brow. "You can clean up after you kids, but you can't conceal all traces of them." He glanced around the room. No pictures. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen any family photos hanging on the wall, either."
"New to town," Warrick shrugged, but he started to get the sinking feeling himself. "Maybe they hadn't had the time yet to put up the personal touches."
"I hope that's all it is," Sara sighed, going back to lifting some prints.
"Butcher knife," Warrick announced, picking up the object that he'd just found. His gloved hand held it by the handle for Nick and Sara to see. He looked over at Sara and saw the color drain from her face. "You OK?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "Uh, I'm going to go see if I can find a phone number to reach the little girls Grandparents." Quickly, she left the room.
"I hope she's OK," Nick watched her leave. "I've never seen her react like this before."
Warrick noted Nick's concern, and couldn't help but worry himself.
