A/N: This chapter is slightly delayed since I broke my hand and its been tough to type! I now know that I cant move a sofa all by myself... ahh we live and learn right? so would love to know what you think of this - come on hit me with your theories! Charli xx
Grissom insisted a cab take them to downtown to collect their car. She needed some distraction, he could feel her confusion inflating with every new piece of information she uncovered. His eyes quickly scanned the landscape of shops and diners dotted around on the busy street they had been deposited on. Everywhere seemed so busy; the city was literally teeming with people.
His eyes settled on a tiny ice cream parlour nestled on the corner of a block with a fenced outdoor seating area. With a definitive smile he clutched her hand and led her across the road and towards the turquoise chairs and powder pink tables. The sun beat down on them as he gestured for her to sit before disappearing inside and ordering the biggest sharing sundae they had on the menu.
"You know ice cream is incredibly fattening…" Sara smirked as he slipped into the chair beside her.
"I don't think you have to worry"
He peered over the menu at her, carefully analysing her expression for signs of distress. Her eyes scanned the exterior of the building, watching people pass by going about their daily lives. She looked relaxed here, the light dancing in her eyes and a gentle smile tugging at her lips. The stress he had seen shadowing her earlier seemed to have vanished in the sunshine but he knew it couldn't be far below the surface. Sara was teetering on the edge and if he wanted to save her from an explosion of emotions he had to get her to open up to him slowly.
The waitress brought them their ice cream with a wide smile and Sara tucked in gleefully.
"My dad took me to a place like this once... he lost his temper with me and felt guilty so we went to the ice cream parlour and I got a whole sundae to myself. I felt like a queen" she laughed.
The small insight into her relationship with her father was intriguing. Sara rarely spoke about him personally at all. He was like a ghost always following her around but restricted to the shadows.
"I took my first date to an ice cream parlour" Grissom stated, spooning some banana ice cream from the sundae "she was lactose intolerant"
"Smooth" Sara nodded, smiling at his social ineptitude.
"Do you still want to go see Sandra?" he asked with a measured tone, pretending to be very interested in the sundae between them.
"I have to...how else will I find out what's going on?"
"Ok... than what's your plan?"
Sara turned to look at him, her spoon poised halfway to her mouth.
"My plan?" she finally remembered her ice cream, twirling the spoon around in her mouth and sending him a questioning frown.
"Well, this woman hasn't spoken to your mother for over 20 years. Are you just going to show up on her doorstep and demand answers?"
Sara pondered this for a few moments before scooping another spoonful of ice cream from the sundae. The moment of uncertainty in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by him; she was putting on a strong front but her masks never lasted long under his scrutiny.
"I guess I'll have to... I don't have any other ideas"
"What if Sandra and Laura had a real falling out Sara? Are you prepared for her to be unwilling to see you?"
It was his worst fear of the moment. She had based so much on speaking to this woman that he worried for her if she should turn her away. Her grief process was already delayed enough, this could be enough to make her run again and the last thing he wanted was to lose her.
"I'll be fine Gil. Please don't worry about me" her hand rested on top of his, her wedding ring glinting in the sunshine.
"I'm not worried" he soothed, holding her eye contact as she scooped out the last of the ice cream. With a smirk she raised the spoon to his lips, feeding him the last drizzle of ice cream. "I'm concerned"
Sara laughed, remembering a time when they had the same conversation many years ago. That time she had been reckless with her life, now she was just being reckless with her emotions.
"Isn't that kind of the same thing?" she smirked.
"We should get going now... isn't it quite a drive?"
Sara nodded, wiping the side of her mouth with a pink napkin.
"About 90 minutes to the bay and we still have to find her house"
Grissom followed her out of the building and across the busy road to the rental car place. It was a small portacabin type building with steel walls and a green sign above the door indicating its purpose. Inside he provided them with the necessary paperwork and payment. Sara milled about in the background picking at her nails nervously. Within a few minutes a young man pulled up outside the door in a red Mercedes with the top down.
Grissom shrugged in reaction to Sara's accusatory glare "it was all they had left"
Before long they were tearing along the highway with the wind capturing Sara's hair and making it dance around her face. She ran her fingers through it, holing it back with one hand as she fished in her purse for a hairband.
"Not as romantic as it looks in the movies is it?" Grissom smiled, keeping one eye on the road.
"I dunno... worked for Audrey Hepburn" she smirked, tying a silk turquoise scarf around her head and instantly taming her runaway hair.
The drive to Tomales Bay was a beautiful one. They followed the coast, the ocean glistening in the sunshine like a sheet of silver. Sara was quiet for most of the journey and he felt no need to push her for conversation. She was studying the scenery and waiting for memories to find her. Grissom held onto her hand as they cruised along the highway without uttering a word.
Eventually they began to drive through more populated territory. Villages gave way to small towns and she began to shift in her seat, her eyes darting around in recognition. It was a world away from the bustling city landscape as they drove past rolling hills and beautiful beaches but it was exactly like she remembered.
"I loved living here..." she muttered sadly as they drove past a long pier with a line of children diving off it.
"It's a beautiful place" Grissom nodded.
It seemed like the perfect place to raise a family. Quiet without being ghostly, idealic without being isolated, thriving without being industrialised. He could imagine the good intentions Sara's parents had when they set up home here. Their B&B had probably thrived in a place like this and had alcohol and mental illness not shadowed their lives they would probably have lived a happy life here.
"Sandra's last address was 125 John Street... that's... 3 blocks away" She nodded ahead and Grissom kept driving, turning right at a small convenience store into a street filled with picture perfect homes. Each one had a well-manicured lawn with flowers surrounding the porch and a mid-range car sitting in the driveway. Grissom slowed to a crawl as they scanned the numbers looking for the right one, eventually coming to a stop outside a yellow painted home with an old golden retriever laid out on the porch like a shaggy old rug. He lazily opened one eye to regard them before returning to his slumber in the sunshine.
"This is it" Sara declared, swallowing the lump in her throat and fumbling at her seatbelt. Grissom gathered her hand in his, attempting to calm and soothe her nerves.
"We don't have to do this Sara"
Her eyes scanned the building. The thin curtains waving in the breeze and the distinct smell of home cooking filled her nose. There was nothing intimidating about it at all and yet she seemed to have been consumed with fear as she sat in the car by the kerb.
"I do" she remarked, quickly unfastening her belt and removing herself from the car.
She stood on the sidewalk looking around the neighbourhood. Children played happily on the street without a care in the world, people mowed their lawns in the sunshine, an old couple sat on their porch reading in companionable silence, it was the epitome of the perfect neighbourhood. With a deep breath she threw a glance at Grissom across the car and made the walk up the path towards Sandra's porch.
Familiarity struck her the second she stood on the creaky steps. Sandra's porch was filled with potted plants of every description, flowers and herbs filled the air with their scent, the sound of wind chimes hanging from the rafters jingled in the breeze and strings of shells rattled as she made her way towards the door. The dog let out a low sigh as he heaved himself from the floor to greet Grissom with a lazy tail wag.
Sara pressed the doorbell, listening to the chime echoing around the house. For a moment she wondered if anyone was going to respond but eventually a shuffling and scratching could be heard from the other side of the door and a man appeared in the doorway.
"Can I help you?" he asked in a deep voice. He had sharp light blue eyes, the kind that pierced right into your soul when they looked at you. He immediately made Sara feel uncomfortable.
"I... I'm looking for a... a woman named Sandra Clark" Sara declared, clearing her throat to disguise the nerves she was feeling.
The man seemed to falter for a second, darting his eyes inside and regarding her very carefully.
"I'm her son. Can I help?" he reached out a strong, well-manicured hand and offered her a polite smile "Alan Clark, nice to meet you"
Sara hesitated a little before returning his gesture.
"My name is Sara Sidle; this is my husband Gil Grissom. I believe your mother was a friend of my mother's... I was hoping to have a chat with her about that"
"Well I'm afraid that my mother is asleep right now..."
Inside she heard the sound of movement and a shadow appeared in the window to her right. Eyes peered out from between the floral curtains and then darted away before a voice filled the hallway where Alan was standing.
"Who is it Alan? Let them in!" a woman's voice filled her ears and soon the thin frame of Sandra Clark stood in the doorway.
She was ghostly white, painfully thin and the beautiful blonde hair she had come to associate with this woman was gone, replaced by a pale blue headscarf. Her eyes were the same shade of icy blue as her sons only hers were framed with dark rings attesting to her exhaustion. She locked eyes with Sara, hers growing wide as her bony hand reached for her mouth. She stumbled backwards; Alan reaching out to steady her and her white shirt rode up her arm revealing a bandage and a picc line.
"mom... you need to lie down" Alan demanded, attempting to steer her back inside but despite how frail she looked Sandra put up a fight and took a few steps towards Sara, never letting her gaze drop from her eyes. "Mother... now's not the time for guests"
"Sara Sidle... is it really you?" she whispered, Sara's throat instantly feeling as dry as Sandra's obviously did.
She wriggled free of her son's grip and wrapped Sara in an embrace, tears forming in her eyes. Her hands stroked through Sara's hair and through her clothes Sara could feel just how critically thin she was. With one deep breath she unfolded her arms took a step away from Sara, grasping her hand in hers.
"Come in… we've got a lot of catching up to do"
She led Sara inside the house, past Alan and into a lavishly decorated living room. Alan sighed as they passed gesturing for Grissom to follow before he closed the door and joined them.
Sandra's living room was as much a testament to her personal taste as her porch had been. Trinkets, photographs and paraphernalia covered every available surface. A parrot in a cage stood in the corner eyeing them suspiciously as a tabby cat stretched out on a chair, refusing to move for anyone. A coffee table sat central in the room covered in legal documents and pamphlets on writing a will. Sandra perched lightly on the white sofa, patting the seat beside her to indicate to Sara she was to join her. Alan started gathering the papers but she shooed him away.
"Leave that… coffee… that's what we need" she looked at Sara and then at Grissom taking in their nods before waving Alan away towards the kitchen. Turning back to Sara she took her hand again and beamed at her. "I can't believe you're here… you look just like your mother"
"My mother… she took her own life a couple of days ago. I'm trying to handle her estate"
Sandra suddenly dropped her hand and moved to a white sideboard in the corner. She began furiously scrambling in the drawer, searching for something and mumbling under her breath before she returned with a photograph in her hands.
"That's Laura and I in the summer of 1979. We would meet up once a year, without fail at the start of summer. We had to do it in secret though; your dad would never have let her come"
Sara cast her eyes over the photograph; she did bear a striking resemblance to her mother back then. They shared the same dark wavy hair, the same wide smile tinged with sadness. There was a little girl in the background, curled up on a bench with her nose in a book. Sara pointed to her with a small smile.
"That's me" she declared, turning back to Sandra with a slight smile.
"Yes it is… always with your nose in a book. I used to call you my book bug"
Sara nodded remembering the passage in 'Alice in Wonderland'. Sandra pointed to a small boy hovering around her feet in the image. He wore a set of blue dungarees and had a crop of blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
"That's Alan. He was two years old. That was the last time we saw you" she said sadly.
"So, Alan's your only child?" Sara began, wondering how she would bring up the subject of the mystery girl in the photograph.
"No… I had a daughter too. She died 4 years ago… car accident"
"I'm sorry" Sara whispered.
Sara sighed, realising that perhaps the child in the photo wasn't as much of a mystery as she thought until Sandra brought over more photographs. Sandra's daughter had thick curly red hair and freckles over every visible part of her skin. There was no way to mistake her for the little girl in her photograph. She was a different child entirely.
"I called her Lauren… after your mother. She was born right after…you know"
Sandra nodded her head and turned away from Sara quickly obviously not wanting to discuss the subject any further. She carefully returned the photograph, her hands trembling slightly. The skin on her hands was thin and bruised, she could see the blood vessels mapping across her hands and the bones sticking out at sharp angles. She was clearly a very sick lady, Sara wondered for a moment if she should be asking her questions at all. Guilt tied a knot in her stomach but she had to proceed, Sandra was the only person who knew anything about her mother pre-murder.
Sara swallowed the lump in her throat and slipped the photograph of 'Amy' out of her purse. She placed it on the coffee table, sliding it towards her and studying her face for a reaction.
"Do you know who this is?"
Recognition clouded her eyes; Sara could almost see her travelling back in time in her mind. She was remembering, remembering the little girl and the reason why Laura had held onto this photograph for so long. Sandra delicately raised the photograph, her fingers dancing across the image of the child as though it was the first time she had laid eyes on her.
Sandra hesitated, casting her eyes around the room and refusing to meet Sara's eye. She seemed nervous and edgy and her voice trembled when she finally spoke.
"That's Amy" She muttered, a single tear snaking down her face. "She was my angel, my baby"