A new-short chapter; learning more about what event gets Grissom back to Vegas!
Gil Grissom's Romance Part 2
Chapter 27
Nick did not give Gil Grissom much choice. Leave his boat in San Diego under the watchful eyes of harbor police, pack a bag, and join him on the trip to Vegas—no threat, Nick would never do that to a man he'd admired for years—more of a tiger team reference. And that confused Grissom. But what they'd heard from Sara was enough to make both men move swiftly and in a little more than an hour, they were climbing stairs to a jet bridge for a direct flight.
Grissom had not had much time to think about seeing Sara again, but once in the air, separated by several rows from Nick Stokes, he could think. He got as far as hearing again Sara's words; he wanted to listen, to breathe in, and let her voice fill him.
There was so much he wanted to say to her; to see her long legs, her hair in the sunlight, the quiver of joy and goodness in her dark eyes. From his memories, he thought of all the love and life they had at one time. And, given another chance, he'd place his life in her hands again. He had never stopped loving her.
With that thought, he fell asleep, exhaustion and sleep held him until a hand touched his shoulder to wake him as the plane descended into the brilliant sunshine that blazed across the alluvial valley of Las Vegas and much of Clark County.
And tragedy. Nick had tried to catch him up on who was working where; the once familiar names and faces were blurred ghosts as Grissom tried to remember people he had once worked with on a daily basis. These were good people, diligent and dedicated in their work; none deserved the outcome of what could be a disaster for law enforcement in Las Vegas.
The two men made an easy exit the same way they had boarded the plane—a staircase and a waiting patrol car. In minutes, they were heading along the Strip. Grissom recognized some changes including a dazzling casino and hotel where Sam Braun's place had once stood.
Before he could say anything, Nick pointed to it saying, "That's where Jim Brass works now—Catherine is his boss."
This was a double surprise. Grissom said, "I thought Catherine was with the FBI."
Chuckling, Nick said, "She is but she's the major stockholder for that place. When Jim left, she put him in charge of security. Remember Lindsay? Catherine's little girl is an accountant now—works there."
While the two men talked about Lindsay, remembering her as a child, the policeman pulled to a stop, waiting while street barricades were removed before the car could get to the police department. No longer at separate addresses, the lab was now adjunct to the new law enforcement district building, all glass and steel, sunshades, and solar panels..
"Looks like the TV trucks expect something to happen," said Nick as they pulled into the parking deck.
During the drive, he had sent and received several text messages. He said, "We're expected in the Sheriff's conference room."
In a low voice, Grissom asked, "Does she know?"
Shaking his head, Nick said, "I—I thought it would be better to surprise her."
Entering the building, Grissom recognized no familiar faces; not only had the building changed, so had the employees. And he noticed the silence—suddenly, he remembered how quiet the lab had been when Warrick Brown had been killed.
When they arrived at the conference room, Nick hung back on the pretext of greeting a young woman in the hallway. Four or five people were in the room; Sara, obviously in charge, was standing at the end of a long table. He said nothing but waited at the door until he was noticed by one of the men at the table.
No longer a spiky-haired kid, Greg Sanders looked at him in shocked surprise and just as quickly, the young man glanced at Sara.
And now, he looked at Sara. A face he knew and loved. Awestruck, Grissom saw a person who seemed completely unchanged in the months it had been since he'd seen her. Yet, she had changed. Confidence in her posture and voice sent a solemn message to the group around the table.
She sensed his presence—or had noticed a glance from Greg—and turned toward the door where he stood. She blinked, slowly, and then frowned, puzzled.
The air seemed to change around them; Grissom caught movement in his peripheral vision but kept his eyes on Sara. Her hand touched the table.
"Gil," she whispered almost inaudibly.
The room began to spin around him; his vision blurred. His stomach contracted; behind his eyes something burned. By the time he had taken three steps, he had control of his emotions, willed the dizziness out of his head, forced his stomach to be calm.
Before he reached the table, he managed to say "I've come to help."
Minutes passed as they stood a few feet apart. Sara had the benefit of the table; her hand gripped its edge.
Finally, Grissom placed his bag on the floor. In a controlled, artificial sounding voice, he managed to say, "I—I was in San Diego with Nick—long story—but he—he thought I might be useful."
Sara extended her hand, saying, "I'm glad you did—we—as you've heard—we are going to need a lot of help."
Taking her hand, he noticed her expression did not change. He understood and appreciated the self-confidence that she demonstrated yet he had imagined their reunion differently. Now, he held her hand for a long moment. Another surprise; she stepped away from the table and embraced him. Both arms around his shoulders—his breathing stopped as she quickly placed a kiss on his cheek.
Just as quickly, she withdrew, backed away, and said, "Did Nick come? Do you know what's happened?"
Nodding, he murmured, "Yes." Turning, he realized they were alone. And the doors to the room had been closed. "Sara," he whispered, "I need to—to…"
Her raised hands, splayed in front of him, stopped his words.
She said, "I—I'm sure there…" She shook her head. "We—we can talk at some other time." A quick flash of a smile. "You can tell me—you can tell me about your life." Another brief smile, "and I'd like to—to hear—actually, it'll be like—like old times." She licked her lips and seemed to notice for the first time they were alone.
"Right now, we need to work."
He said, "Has Hodges been found?" Quickly adding, "How is Conrad?"
"David hasn't been found—we think he's still in the city. Conrad is alive." Shaking her head, she added, "Early prognosis is not good—not for a complete recovery."
She indicated a chair next to hers and both sat down.
Grissom asked, "Any idea what caused it?"
A sad smile turned into a cynical grimace across Sara's face. "Your old friend might be involved." Her eyes met his briefly before turning to a stack of files on the table. She pulled one folder out and opened it.
Immediately, he recognized the face. He said, "Heather?" Confusion came before he grasped the indication. "Conrad was seeing Heather? Hodges?"
Sara said, "We think David was also a client—a customer—whatever Heather calls them now."
"Does she still have her therapy office?"
Sara shook her head. "Not for a while—she—she runs a much smaller business than Lady Heather's back in the day. From what I understand, she's a 'life coach' or something. She's the one who call 9-1-1 and told us it was David Hodges." With a scoff, she continued, "As always—Heather cooperates with law enforcement."
"Where do we start? And what happened to everyone?" Grissom looked around at the empty room.
At his comment, Sara laughed. "I think they thought we might actually have a fight."
Grissom grunted and then chuckled. "We never fight."
Sara was still smiling as she sent a text message to Greg and a few seconds later, the room filled with a dozen people.
Grissom watched as Sara handed out assignments and he understood the wide-ranging ramifications of what David Hodges had done. Not only had he shot the sheriff in what was thought to be a lover's triangle quarrel, he had added a level of damage in an attempt to destroy the crime lab.
According to a video he had sent to a local television station, any outstanding cases in Clark County had been compromised—or at least had been claimed to be compromised—by long-time lab employee, David Hodges. The news department had not aired the message.
Most of the people in the room would be checking lab work on those cases. It was a massive undertaking and as soon as Sara had assigned them to different tasks, they left the room.
Greg Sanders and two others were sent to Hodges' home.
"I'm going to Heather Kessler's-a team has been there for hours," Sara said as she looked at Grissom. Turning to Nick, she said, "If you would supervise the lab," she handed a thick folder to him. "These are all the open cases going back three months." She let out a long, slow breath, adding, "I cannot believe he would do something like this."
Turning to Grissom, Sara said, "I have no idea what your relationship is with Heather now—I've never know, have I? But you can go with me—maybe she'll talk to you without all of the pretense and posturing I got from her several years ago."
Grissom said nothing, but followed Sara out of the room, along a hallway, and into the lab section of the building. He had always been proud of the lab when he worked there. Seeing it in controlled chaos—people were calmly working, Nick was making the rounds of each work area—gave him hope that the lab would be spared.
A/N: Heather, Hodges, Ecklie-who would have thought!-and more to come! Thank you and a special thanks to those who comment!