Chapter 8: Simply Nothing More To Give.
Warnings and Disclaimer- See Chapter One
Life it seems, will fade away
Drifting further every day
Getting lost within myself
Nothing matters no one else
I have lost the will to live
Simply nothing more to give
There is nothing more for me
Need the end to set me free
Things are not what they used to be
Missing one inside of me
Deathly lost, this cant be real
Cannot stand this hell I feel
Emptiness is filling me
To the point of agony
"Fade To Black" Metallica
"Missing persons department, Alanna speaking, how may I help you?"
"This is Gil Grissom. Put me through to Jack Cadden."
"Uh- I don't-"
"This is involving a CSI. Please put me through immediately."
"Uh, ok."
Every time he phoned over the past two weeks, he had this problem. It seemed Missing Persons were doing their damndest to make it impossible for him to find out about Sara, and it made his blood boil.
"Hello Gil." Jack's voice came wearily down the phone.
Gil didn't bother with any niceties. "Jack. Any news?"
"Nothing. Listen Gil-I'm going to be straight with you here. Sara has been gone for over two weeks. Your lab has no evidence. My department has nothing to work with. We have a very small chance at finding her."
"But the notes I sent over-"
"Gil. The old pedophile is locked up in California State Prison. The mom moved over to the UK, and the son moved to Quebec. We got nothing."
"But he could want to get back at Sara. She put his dad in-"
"No she didn't Gil. Tobey pulled up the records this morning. It was a" Gil heard paper shuffling "Sandra Van Der Woodsen who turned him in, when she was in her late teens. Said she was too scared to do it any earlier."
"Sandra Van Der Woodsen?" Gil wrote it down.
"Gil, watch your step with this. You can't interview that girl. She was freaked out enough when I asked her about Bounton. She flipped when I asked her about Sara. You can't-"
"Bye Jack" Gil flipped his cell shut.
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"Gil? Can I talk to you?"
"Come on in Cath"
She made her way into his office, sliding past the tarantula, and slumping down in a seat.
"Gil, I-I-I just thought-"
"Are you okay?"
Catherine bent her head. "I'm so sorry Gil. I read her diary."
Silence.
Catherine looked up slowly at Grissom. He was leant back in his chair, eyes shut. Finally:
"Did you tell anyone?"
"No! God, no!"
"Why Cath?"
"Grissom, you need to understand. We all want to help. She's like a sister to Nick and Warrick. Greg's totally besotted with her, you know what he's like." here Grissom rolled his eyes. Even the cleaning staff knew what Greg was like. They were the ones who had to wipe saliva off the floor, after he finished gazing at Sara. "And Griss, even though we didn't get on at first, I love Sara. I swear to god, she's like a daughter to me or something. God, that makes me feel so old."
Grissom hadn't really taken into account how his team members had felt about being left in the dark about Sara. He knew Nick was more than a bit suspicious, he was very intuitive, but Greg and Warrick were both totally clueless, and probably felt resentful, and useless.
"I think they need to know." Grissom looked at Catherine. "But how do you tell people something like that?"
"We don't tell them." Catherine was incredibly relieved he wasn't mad. The angel on her shoulder was currently doing the hula. "We tell Sara we know-when we find her. Then she can decide if she wants them to know."
Grissom concurred with the plan, and got Catherine to agree to go out to Sandra Van Der Woodsen's house with him. After all, she'd answer more questions if there was a woman there, opposed to just Grissom.
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Grissom and Catherine both stood expectantly outside the apartment door, waiting for Sandra to open it. They heard a woman inside call out "Hold on! Just a second!" in a warm bubbly tone. Seconds later, after checking through the peep hole, a skinny redhead opened the door. "May I help you?" she asked, looking at the CSI badge Catherine had in her hand.
"CSI. We're investigating the disappearance of Sara Sidle"
"Oh my goodness. Come in."
They followed her into a warm, homey living room. "Gosh, I'm sorry it's such a tip. My two year old has yet to learn the value of tidiness" she laughed, showing white teeth. Catherine and Grissom glanced at each other. This woman certainly wasn't what they were expecting.
"Mommmmmmmmmmy."
"One minute Joey." she turned to the CSI's. "I'm dreadfully sorry. I'll be a second."
They heard her run towards the room don at the bottom of the hall, and shush the child in there.
"Um." Catherine didn't know quite what to say for once.
Grissom was similarly confused as well. Sara was nothing like the typical poster-girl for child abuse, but that was Sara. This woman had a similar, but less frenetic energy than Sara had, she was more maternal.
"Would either of you like anything to eat or drink?" Sandra offered them.
"No thank you Ms. Van Der Woodsen"
"Oh, it's just Sandra. But Sandra Thomms now." she smiled at the medium sized diamond on her hand.
"I am Gil Grissom, and this is Catherine Willows. We would like to talk to you, as we previously mentioned, about CSI Sara Sidle."
"So that's what Princess is doing now."
They exchanged confused looks. "Princess?"
"That's what she used to get called at their house. Annie called her it a couple of times, then we started calling her it. She suited the nickname. She was so full of life, so full of happiness, before him."
"I assume you are referring to Mr Bounton?"
She nodded "You know, before I got married, before Timmy told me to go to the police, I couldn't even stand to hear his name. But I've been married ten years, and every day, it gets easier, you know?"
"You went to the police, was it ten years ago?"
"Don't judge me. I know that going to the police at seventeen was a bit late, but I thought that any help I could give would make a difference."
"We are not judging you, Sandra. If anything, I know I think that you helped a lot of young girls escape the same situation that you and Sara did."
"No, not really. He stopped after Sara."
"He stopped? I hope you don't mind us taking up your time, but we would deeply appreciate it if you could tell us everything you can about what went on in that foster home."
"Sure. Listen, are you positive you don't want anything to drink? I mean, this might take a while, and if you need to take notes or anything..."
"Uhm, a coffee would be great. Cath?"
"Sure. Thank you. Coffee would be good."
They heard her banging about in the kitchen for a few minutes, then come back in with a tray of cookies, two coffees and one herbal tea. After taking a sip she began:
"I was taken into foster care when I was nine years old, and I went to the Bountons when I was thirteen. They were such an amazing family at first you know? Annie was lovely, if not a little quiet and stuttery. But a lot of women who have marriages to men like Mr Bounton tend to be. Jayden their son, he wasn't such a nice guy, he was in his twenties when i was there, he was always glaring at me, and the other kids, you know? Anyway Mr Bounton was fantastic at first, bought me all these toys, joked with me, even took me clothes shopping once. All the other kids were jealous, except from Carrie. She was like, this 16 year old girl there, she was ready to leave like, three months after I got there. She was always so quiet, and she flinched when anyone got near her. She was so quiet. Too quiet. I remember seeing her going into her room, and Mr. Bounton following her, but I reckoned he was just saying goodnight. But when she left, he started coming into my room."
She swallowed. Catherine moved forward and took her hand. Sandra's eyes opened in shock.
"Thank you for telling us this. Every extra piece of information helps us find Sara. But you can stop whenever you need to."
"Thank you, Ms Willows. But I've told this story so many times that I'm sure telling it once more won't give me that many psychological scars." Sandra smiled at Cath as she sat back.
"Anyway, as I was saying, Bounton started coming into my room. He was very good at scaring you into not telling: most foster kids can't bear the thought of being chucked out of the family they've settled into so well. It's really a catch-22 situation. Do you tell and get thrown away from yet another home? Or do you stay silent, but wish you were gone? He was pretty bad to me, but I know for a fact he was worse to little Princess. He wouldn't hold my head under the shower, or anything, he'd just rape me." Grissom started to interrupt, but Sandra smiled then shushed him.
"Yes, I know there's no such thing as 'just rape' but trust me, it could have been a lot worse for me. You will understand how.
Anyway that went on until I was about 15 or so. I was starving myself, cutting, and drinking too much. Mr Bounton didn't care, Annie had been beaten into submission by that point, and Jayden thought it was hilariously funny. He was a creep, that boy.
But then Princess came. I swear, on the day she arrived I just knew. I wanted to scream at her to get back into Therese's car and get the hell away, but I was too scared to say anything.
That night at dinner, Bounton was staring at her like a cat would at a canary. They ordered in food especially. I remember reaching for a slice of pizza, then my sleeve slid back, which showed off this huge scabby cut I had on my arm. Jayden saw, and sort of laughed, but I saw Princess look at my arm, and give me this sad little naive look, like she was terribly surprised and shocked. She had that innocent spark, the one that we all did, until him.
After that, he would leave me alone more. He used to take Princess on "date days" as he called them. I remember thinking how Carrie must have felt, I wasn't jealous at all, but Elizabeth and Leya were. But he never went near them. Too young. I remember he used to take her to hockey games, and made her do ballet classes."
She saw Catherine's look of surprise at 'ballet classes.' "No princess didn't like them. She managed to persuade him to let Elizabeth do them with her so she wouldn't be, and I quote "in a class of silly little pink puffballs."
Catherine smiled. "Yeah, sounds like Sara."
"She and Elizabeth used to do dancing shows for us, when they would put on their leotards and tutu's, and run about the living room. Princess had such long gangly legs, she was forever crashing into things. It was sweet, really, well, if he hadn't been there, taking photos of her, and staring. In fact, I think I have one."
She stood up and went over to the bookcase. Grissom and Cath didn't mind spending lots of time at this woman's apartment talking about Sara. It made them feel like they were helping, and anyway, it was their own off-the-clock time, so Ecklie wouldn't say anything.
"Here."
Sandra offered the book to Grissom and Cath. A photo of Sara in a tutu, giving a piggy back to a child similarly dressed, but a bit younger. Cath smiled. "Cute. I find it hard to believe that's our Sara!" they flipped the page. Sara with Sandra, Sara smiling toothily, while the older girl hugged her with a sad look on her face. Sandra with Sara, and an older man with a pot belly, who had his hand over Sara's waist , and looped over Sandra's shoulder. Sara was laughing in this one, but Sandra had a look of fear plastered across her face, the cheesy smile doing nothing to hide it. A last photo, with Sandra and Sara on some sort of slide together, sliding towards the camera, with smiles of pure, childish joy on their faces, and hair flying. Along the bottom was scrawled 'I can't believe you're going! Miss you Sands. Love Princess. Xxxxxx'
Grissom felt his eyes prick at the last photo.
"I want to throw the one of us with Bounton out, but I think that I have to look at it sometimes. It's not good to cover-up and forget, it inevitably leads to breakdown." She took the proffered album from Catherine's hands and placed it back on the bookshelf.
"As I was saying, before I forced you into looking at my old photos," Sandra smiled "he was forever snapping photos of her, which I knew he didn't do for either me or Carrie. And he put so much effort into doing things with her, gaining her trust. It was awful.
I remember one night, I heard Princess shouting her usual notice about going into the shower, bathroom didn't have a lock," she added, seeing Catherine's confused face "and then about 20 minutes later, the door opening and closing again. I thought she might have left the bathroom, so I was going to go in for a shower. But I opened my door, and I saw Jayden listening at the bathroom door, through the crack at the side. When he saw me, he raised his fist, so I ran back to my room. About three minutes later, I heard Princess scream, then cry, but I couldn't do anything. Jayden stomped off down the hall after this, you could always hear his stupid boots thundering about. And Princess came out after Bounton did, crying. After this, he stopped messing around with me so much. Princess got quieter, and quieter. Although, sometimes she would scream and shout at him, so he normally waited till Annie went out with Elizabeth and Leya."
"How old were you whe-"
"I was just fifteen. I left about three months after the bathroom incident. It was partly because of what he was doing to Princess, but it was also partly because I saw a chance, and I grabbed it. I felt so guilty for month's, years after."
"But by telling the police, you saved other girls-"
"No, I told you Sara was the last." perhaps it was the urgent tone in her voice, or perhaps it was her using Sara's real name that made Grissom hear the urgent tone in her voice.
"Last?"
"Princess was different than us. He took so much time, which I know I've said, but he used to do so much with her. He used to pray on the fears she told him about back when he was good to her, and use them against her to make her beg. He never did that for me or Carrie."
"I'm not sure I quite understand." Grissom said carefully, looking confused. Catherine bore an identical expression.
"It's hard to understand why someone would do this, so I don't blame you." she flashed them a weak smile. "Did you know Princess was severely claustrophobic?"
"Not severely..."
"Yes. She used to be really bad, she wouldn't go in the van, although she'd be more than happy in the car. I think it was the dark that she really hated. Anyway, he used to lock her in this tiny little cupboard they had, that was used for storing coats before Princess came along, and he wouldn't let her out till she begged him."
"Oh my god." Catherine felt sick. She hadn't read this far in the diary.
"Quite." Sandra said, her eyes now full of tears. "I believe the term she had to use was 'Please come and fuck me pops.' Sometimes he wouldn't let her out until she was screaming it and screaming it, he would stand and smirk, and Jayden would laugh as well, if he was in the house. I can still hear it sometimes when I sleep, and just thank the gods that my baby is safe in the next room."
Catherine let out a strangled sob, and looked at Grissom, whose face seemed to be set in a creaseless, serious position.
Princess said that it was her fault, and the only person she could blame was herself, whenever she got out of there. She believed that, because he'd made her say that, it wasn't rape. Bullshit! That man was evil, and knew how to manipulate people in a way I've never seen and never hope to again. Princess still had her spark, but it was flickering. And one of the few times she was able to put up a fight, he whipped her with a leather belt until she was unconscious. That house- it was unbearable. And Princess, what was happening to her made it darker.
I remember in the last months, we were so close. We used to talk about how we'd get away, have our own place, with no guys at all. Lots of ice-cream, and microscopes for princess, telescopes for me, and lots of room for foster kids to come and stay with us too. She came to me three weeks before I left and told me she thought she was pregnant, I told Annie. 12 days before, she told me that she was cutting herself, I told her to use a clean razor, plenty of band-aids, and not to make deep cuts. It was the best advice I could give, I was still doing it myself at that point. One week before I left, she told me about her real family, which broke my heart. Five days before, she asked me how long until we could get that flat together. 3 days, she gave me one of her ballet shoes, I still have it. Two days she gave me that photo, and wouldn't stop crying. She stayed with me all night that night, because she was so terrified. On the last day, when my social worker came, Princess wouldn't let go, and Annie had to drag her off me, which was no mean feat, since that girl had limbs like a damn limpet! I only really realized that she was trying to subconsciously ask for help until years later, after Bounton was put in jail. Carrie, and two other girls testified, but when I asked them if they had experienced anything similar to the cupboard experience, they all said no.
I spoke to Leya about three years ago and we went for a coffee. When we got round to talking about Princess, she told me that Bounton had actually missed her, and he had been beating up Annie mostly, but Jayden as well, since she left, and that he had never 'gotten over' princess, even when he went to prison. He had photos of her. Leya told me Princess was back there for a while, before she went to Harvard, but I thought that was just a rumor..."
"No, not a rumor." Grissom said softly.
"God. How long was she there for?"
"Two years. She left just before you brought Bounton to justice."
"I need to know, what's happening to her now? Where is she? Is she o.k.? Why are you searching for her with missing persons?"
"We, had a uh, an interesting crime scene at Sara's house, and we thought it may be relevant to her past..."
"Is she dead? Please, please say she isn't"
"Honestly? We don't know" It broke Grissom's heart to say this in such a cruel heartless voice, a voice that didn't care.
Sandra put her head in her hands and cried. After about three minutes or so, she raised it and smiled waveringly at them with red eyes.
"I always figured that it would have been years ago I had this discussion. I could see the cops coming to my little college accommodation apartment and asking if I knew this girl, showing me a picture of Sara. She told me when she was old enough, she would put me as her next of kin. But I never got the call, and I figured she was okay. I really thought something would happen to her at that home, I swear to god, that freak wanted to like, possess her." Sandra's voice sparked with brittle hatred. "But she got out, and she got into freaking Harvard, became what she always wanted to be, then it all got fucked up. It's too sad."
This was spoken with such an air of sadness, of misery, that Grissom could hardly bear it. Pushing himself off the sofa, he mumbled his thanks before running into the hallway. He could hear Catherine say: "...so sorry. If you can think...here is my card...worry...find her..." then She joined him outside.
"Where now Gil, back to the lab?"
"No. We can go home."