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Gil Grissom's Romance Part 2
Chapter 32
As interim sheriff, Catherine Willows had been placed in a position that produced a response of support and approval. By the time Sara and Greg had processed evidence, putting everything in unquestionable order, Catherine and those around her had set plans in place for an appropriate memorial service for Conrad Ecklie. It would be a tribute; it would also be a pageant in true Los Vegas style.
Grissom and Nick, elbow deep in evidence boxes heard a familiar voice from the doorway.
"Did he really tamper with cases?"
Both turned, smiling, as Jim Brass entered the room. He continued, "Hodges was always a weird duck and Ecklie was peculiar in his way—he could cover it up better than Hodges."
"How are you, Jim?" Grissom stripped a glove from his hand, extending it to the man he'd called 'friend' for many years.
After shaking hands, patting each other's backs as if it had been a week instead of several years since they had talked, Jim turned to Nick. No handshakes but genuine hugs happened naturally as the two greeted each other.
"You're looking good, old guy!"
"San Diego agrees with you, I see!"
The three men moved easily into a conversation about recent events, moving from Ecklie's death and funeral arrangements to Hodges' threats and death.
"So far, nothing suggests he tampered with anything—just an empty threat," Nick said.
Jim asked, "What's to be done with Hodges? And his mother? What a mess left for someone to handle."
Grissom spoke, "Nick and I have talked. His mother had made plans—cremation and interment at Eden Vale. We thought the same for Hodges."
Nodding, Jim said, "I'll talk to Catherine—she'll be happy for you do it and she'll provide the funds." He chuckled, "Who would have thought old Sam Braun's daughter would be sheriff! His old buddies are shaking their heads."
"You think anyone will give her problems?" Grissom asked.
Another chuckle from Brass. "Not likely. Catherine was made for this—have you seen her on local news?" He waved a hand over the evidence boxes, saying, "Close this up—Hodges didn't do anything to this. Emotions, the psyche, a brain tumor—any one or all can make a person go nuts."
Nick and Grissom, glancing at each other, shrugged and began to close up the boxes.
"Let's go talk—catch up—eat some food," Brass suggested. "I've got wheels."
Nick sent a text message to Catherine while Grissom headed to Sara's office. Not finding her, he wrote a note, taping it to the door. By the time he returned, only Brass was standing in the hallway.
"What happened to Nick?"
Brass started walking, motioning Grissom to come with him. "Catherine wanted him. She knows you and I are going to find a good drink." He chuckled. "All anyone has around here is some kind of health or energy drink—I'm thinking of something a bit more—golden."
A few minutes later, Grissom admired the new vehicle Brass was driving.
"Thanks to the nice job I have—provides a company vehicle." Brass lifted his eyebrows several times, making fun of himself. "I'm paid well, good hours, and," chuckling, "I walk around in a clean, citrus-smelling building all day. Sure beats piss and stale body odor."
Grissom laughed. "So you like working for Catherine?"
"I work for the Sam Braun Casino Group—Catherine happens to be the major share holder."
The two men talked easily, picking up an amiable conversation as if they had seen each other the previous day. And with this effortless camaraderie, Jim Brass drove to a familiar bar and grill where they found an empty booth, ordering food and drinks they had enjoyed for more years than either man wanted to count.
They talked about Ecklie which segued into talking about others who had worked in the lab without missing a beat. Jim Brass had not forgotten many events touching lives of those he'd worked with and related marriages, births, deaths, and divorces with ease.
After a sip of the amber liquid in his glass, Brass said, "I had a good career—a great career—I put it above everything else in my life. A mistake, I know now—before she died—Nancy—I knew I'd love her for years but too proud to admit it. Together—we—we might have been better for Ellie." Swirling his glass, before taking another swallow, savoring it for a minute, he continued. "Life is short—an old friend, Annie Kramer, is retiring next month and she's moving here." Smiling, he said, "We might get married—what do you think of that?"
Grissom murmured something that could be taken as agreement or approval before taking a sip of his own beverage.
Food arrived and after a few minutes of eating, Jim brought up one person he had not mentioned.
"So—how did you find Sara? I heard you spent the night with her."
Almost imperceptibly, Grissom shook his head. "She offered a bed. Nothing more. I'm here for a few nights."
Brass stirred the thick stew in front of him and chewed on a chunk of bread. Waiting. When Grissom forked potatoes into his mouth, Brass placed his spoon beside the bowl.
He said, "You and Sara need to work things out. She's still as love-struck as she was fifteen years ago—and you—what are you doing? Doing your 'save the world' routine and ignoring the woman who would give her right arm to have you living at home."
When Grissom started to say something, Brass stopped him with a raised finger, saying, "No excuses. I don't know what happened between you two. I don't know why you got a divorce. It doesn't matter why you thought you had to get a divorce—but it's killing Sara."
"She looks great," Grissom protested.
With a mocking chuckle, Brass said, "She's turning into Gil Grissom circa 2001! All she does is work! The woman deserves a life, Gil."
Quietly, Grissom said, "I want the best for her, Jim. She deserves it—she deserves…" his voice dropped to a whisper. "She deserves someone who—who can—can give her what I couldn't."
"Come on, man! What can you not do for her! Other than break her heart!"
Grissom shook his head. "It's complicated."
Suddenly, Jim Brass had a moment of clarity, remembering when Sara revealed she was no longer married to Gil Grissom. He had not been in the room but had heard it from D.B., from Nick and Greg, and finally, days later, from Sara. She'd said something about 'best interest'—at the time, he had been angry at Grissom for not showing up and had not thought about the words.
He said, "Best interest—what does that mean? You found another woman?"
Another shake of his head came from Grissom.
Brass curled his fingers in a wave. He said, "Tell me—why the divorce? You know my history—an affair, a daughter who wasn't mine—if I haven't lived it, I've heard it-spill."
Silence grew between the two men as their food grew cold but neither man picked up fork or spoon.
Grissom's eyes moved to something behind Jim's head. He drew a deep breath before saying, "I—I could not father a child."
His mouth dropped open for a few seconds but Brass caught himself before he laughed. "Neither could I, old buddy, but I had a daughter—I knew she wasn't mine, but I loved that baby—that little girl—I still love her even after all she's done." He shrugged. "I visit her twice a month and she's doing good—really good."
Grissom knew the history of Ellie and how she had ended up in prison, serving life without any hope of parole. The pain in his friend's eyes was from deep sorrow but there was something else in eyes that softened when he had talked about Ellie.
"I—I couldn't do that to Sara, Jim. With someone else, she might have a child."
Now, disbelief flashed across Jim's face. He said, "She isn't going to fall in love with someone else." He picked up his spoon and stirred the stew, watching the contents of the bowl float to the top and disappear under tomato red sauce. "If she wants kids, you two are smart enough to figure out how to get one or two."
Grissom cut his meatloaf and then dipped its edge into his potatoes. For several minutes, the two men ate in silence.
"I want to do the right thing."
A soft chuckle came from Brass. "Tell her you love her—take her flowers—chocolate! A piece of jewelry. Amazing what those things say to a woman."
A smile played around Grissom's mouth. He said, "She's such a beautiful woman, Jim. I get a little tongue-tied being in the same room with her."
Brass picked up his spoon, using it to emphasize his words, said, "Buy the flowers, the chocolate, the jewelry—you won't have to do much talking. Trust me."
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