Chapter 13
As the sedative wore off, Grissom felt uneasiness and panic descend upon him. He tried to relax as he lay against the pillow, but felt his self-control slowly melt away. He was at the edge of a precipice and it was as if his soul was about to leap into nothingness. Taking a shaky breath, he turned his head to see the doctor enter the ward with a chart in his hand.
The doctor, a man of medium height with sandy-colored hair, studied the chart for a moment and then made his way over to Grissom. He stood next to the bed and regarded his patient for a moment.
"Mr. Grissom, I'm Dr. Ken Jones. I treated your injuries, and I just want to see how you are doing. I just want you to relax for a few minutes while I check you over. Are you experiencing any dizziness or headaches?" the doctor asked softly.
Grissom coughed and tried to clear his throat. "Yes, a little," came the hoarse whisper.
Jones poured a cup of water from the pitcher that was on the table-tray next to the bed. "Here, this might help a little," said the doctor as he gently slipped his hand behind Grissom's head and held the cup to the patient's parched lips.
"Thanks," came the voice that was a little clearer.
Putting the cup back down on the table-tray, Jones carefully picked up Grissom's left wrist and felt around the soft cast that surrounded the man's arm.
"This looks good. I had to reset your wrist and the swelling has gone down. I want to check your shoulder and ribs and then I'll be done," explained the doctor. He hesitated a moment, "Then Lu…your psychiatrist will be in to see you."
Working around the restraints, Jones ran his fingers firmly down both sides of Grissom's rib cage. Grunting from the pain that radiated from his ribs, Grissom tried to relax under the doctor's examination, but he stiffened from the probing fingers of the doctor.
"Sorry about that. I know this isn't pleasant, but I promise I'll be quick," said Jones with a slight smile when he noticed the grimace on his patient's face. Jones undid the snaps of the hospital gown at Grissom's left shoulder to check for infection from the gunshot wound.
"Your ribs will be sore for awhile, but they're healing nicely. Also the wound to your shoulder is coming right along, no sign of infection. I will have the nurse change the bandage later today. I'll also prescribe something for the dizziness and headache," said Jones.
Grissom merely nodded with confusion in his eyes. He wanted to ask Jones about the psychiatrist, but his lips could not form the words he wanted to say. A psychiatrist? How long have I had a psychiatrist? What happened to warrant that? Where in the hell am I? I can't remember...
Jones patted Grissom lightly on his leg and seeing the confusion in Grissom's eyes, said soothingly, "I'll be in later tonight to see how you are doing. We'll talk more then. I can see that you have questions, but right now I just want you to rest, okay?"
As the doctor left the ward, he encountered Lucas donning on a white lab coat. His cousin was obviously relishing his next encounter with Grissom and was eager to begin the man's "therapy."
"So Kenny, how is my dear friend? Probably confused as hell about what's going," snickered the would-be doctor.
Jones sighed and replied, "Yes, he's very confused right now. He's also holding on to enough of himself to be cautious. If you push too much at him, he won't buy into what you're trying to sell."
Ken Jones reached into the dispensary and withdrew the medication he was seeking. Preparing a syringe, the doctor headed back to the ward to administer to medication to Grissom.
"Wait, Kenny. What are you giving him? I want to know," Mallory asked.
"It's just something to alleviate the dizziness and headaches. Your little minions are going to have to go a little easier on your patient, doctor", said Jones in a sarcastic tone. "He'll suffer brain damage or lapse into a coma from a skull fracture before you have a chance to play your silly little game. This medication will help him relax, but he'll still be able to process the twisted tale you're about to tell him."
"I've waited too long for this moment. I don't want to wait any longer," said Mallory stiffly.
"Fine, Lucas. Just let me administer these meds through his IV. He should be ready for you in about 5 minutes or so. The headaches should lessen enough that he won't hear the pounding in his head, just the pounding of your voice," continued Jones in the same sarcastic tone.
Then Jones changed his tone. "Why don't you get your guys here in their prison guard uniforms? Grissom will be more likely to believe you if he thinks that he's in a lock down facility rather than an out-of-the-way clinic," said Jones in a conciliatory tone, trying to buy a little more time to be with Grissom alone.
Mallory smiled, "Great idea, Kenny! The more evidence we can shove at Grissom, the more he'll believe what a wretch he truly is."
Jones watched his cousin take off to find his two sycophants and then quickly entered the ward to give the injured man the needed medication.
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Scott (aka Arthur) left the complex. He had finished his rounds and had decided to take off into the Nevada desert. The surrounding desert was as familiar to Scott as the back of his hand. He knew little of the rest of the world except what he learned through Jones. The young man had a quick intellect and an intense curiosity, a trait his mother had often attributed to his biological father. When he was growing up, he spent many hours in the desert, exploring the terrain and learning how to survive in this harsh environment. It wasn't unusual for the Scott to disappear for hours after his rounds were completed. Scott knew he wouldn't be missed.
He needed time away to consider what he had learned from the woman named Sara. She inherently seemed to know what he was thinking. This complex, Jones, and the staff was the only life that he knew. Scott had learned to trust Jones to a certain extent, but there was something always holding him back in truly embracing the man. Perhaps it was the sense that his mother always seemed stiff and uneasy around the man, and that she was an entirely different person when Scott was alone with her. Jones had always been kind to him and often took the time to teach him what he knew. The two of them had often taken backpacking trips out into the desert where Jones had taught him desert survival.
Now things seemed different. When Jones' cousin had arrived a few months back, things changed. He wasn't sure why except that Ken Jones seemed to be constantly on edge. They used to spend time together hiking out in the desert, exploring and discovering. They hadn't done that since this cousin had arrived. When Lucas Mallory arrived at the clinic, Jones had introduced him to Scott as his cousin, a psychiatrist who had treated and known his biological father. At first, Mallory had stared at Scott with such malice and hate that Scott involuntarily took a step back. Quickly that look disappeared and Mallory nodded, smiled slightly, and shook his hand, saying that he was finally glad to meet the son of his dear old friend. There was something about the way that Mallory spoke to him that caused shivers to run up and down his spine.
Scott thought back to when the man, his father, in the hospital ward had been brought to the clinic. Scott had gone with the two men who had been sent to Vegas to fetch him. Jones had told Scott that this man was his real father. Lucas informed Scott that Grissom was being held in seclusion in a safe house in Vegas and that Lucas' intent was to help Grissom through his addiction and perhaps start a new life. The police wanted to use Grissom to get to the drug lords who had a stranglehold on the police department and the city of Las Vegas. According to Mallory, Grissom was a mole in the department and was on the take. He had been ratted out and, now for protection from the drug lords and for immunity, Grissom had agreed to testify and give the police all that he knew about the organization. Mallory explained that Grissom was a marked man whether he helped the police or not. That seemed to fit since there were uniformed policemen at the house seemingly guarding him. His father had been pretty out of it- obviously injured and on some kind drug.
Scott hiked to his favorite perch, a cliff that overlooked the complex that was dotted with Joshua trees. He sat down and thought about Sara. Even though he knew very little about her, she reminded him of his own mother. He couldn't quite put his finger on what was so familiar except that she knew some things about him that no one else knew. Only his mother had ever called him Scott. Jones only knew him as Arthur and never used his first name. Sara had told him that she knew his father, the man known as Grissom, but that she had never met Rachel Grissom, but knew of her through his father. Scott didn't tell her much of anything, but mostly watched her hesitantly sign and voice her side of the conversation. She mainly asked how Grissom was doing and wondered if he could take her to him. Scott had indicated to Sara that he couldn't do that, and she had slumped back on her cot, somewhat defeated. Scott had left then, signing back that he was sorry but that he would visit with her again soon.
He was confused about all that had transpired since the arrival of Mallory. The atmosphere at the clinic seemed to be charged with tension. The general staff didn't seem affected since Mallory and his two assistants kept to themselves, but Jones uncharacteristically snapped at the staff and, that in itself, has caused tension to rise. He needed to know more about this Grissom, but he wasn't sure how to go about it. Scott felt that Jones was not being truthful with him and Mallory was just plain scary.
Sara was being locked up in one of the wings away from all the other patients, and, as far as he could tell, there was nothing wrong with her short of being somewhat depressed and paranoid from being locked up, isolated, and worried about Grissom. Why was she being held a prisoner? When Scott had asked Jones about Sara, Jones had indicated that Sara was connected to Grissom and that, even though she seemed perfectly sane and reasonable, she was suffering from delusions. Scott didn't believe a word he had said. Perhaps Sara would have answers he was seeking. Watching the sun being to set down low over the horizon, Scott stood up and slowly made his way down back to the clinic.
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Captain Jim Brass and Catherine Willows sat in front of Conrad Ecklie's desk. The door was closed, and Brass could see waves of fury rolling off the strawberry blonde sitting next to him. Brass was beyond anger himself, and turned to face the assistant director of the crime lab.
In a controlled voice, Brass said in a measured tone, "The DA wants the surveillance on McKeen stopped. Grissom and Sidle are still missing. You want Graveyard to move on?"
Ecklie shifted uncomfortably in his chair and cleared his throat. "Look, there are other cases that need to be taken care of. Days and swing can't keep picking up the load for grave. The surveillance has gone on for more than a week and nothing untoward come up. It's a waste of manpower and time. Besides, the political fallout from this could be devastating for the whole department. You don't have any direct evidence linking the under sheriff with Gil and Sara's abductions. I'm not telling you to drop Gil's and Sara's abduction. Keep working on it, but graveyard has got to pick up some of the slack."
Seething, Catherine glared at the assistant director. "Conrad, every minute, every second that goes by lessens the chances that we will both of them alive. The team has been working doubles and triples following up on the slightest leads. Give us more time, please," Catherine said tightly.
"Catherine, you're the graveyard supervisor right now, and I need your cooperation on this. It's been almost two weeks. Look, I can send cases to you that are easy and just need the follow through, but grave has got to pick up some of the load. If after what has been assigned to grave has been taken care of, by all means, continue to work on the case. I'm not telling you to shelve the case. It just can't be grave's only case," said Ecklie in a conciliatory tone.
Catherine stood up, and said pointedly, "You know, Conrad, if it had been you or anyone else in the department, Gil would have moved heaven and earth to find you. It would have been his only case, and he wouldn't have been distracted by office politics." Catherine turned and angrily left the office, slamming the door behind her.
Brass stood up and turned to Ecklie. "She's right, you know, but I will talk to her. Gil and Sara are MY priority right now and grave WILL move heaven and earth to find them." The seasoned detective gave the assistant director one last look and left the office.
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Nick Stokes looked up from the file he was thumbing through, examining the documents that were held within. He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he watched Catherine storm into the layout room with assignment slips in her hand. Greg looked at her questioningly, and Warrick waited patiently as she tried to calm down by taking a deep breath.
"Okay, guys- by orders of the assistant director, we need to start picking up the slack. I have assignments for us. They should go pretty quickly and we can get back to Gil and Sara's case," she said quickly, daring for any of the guys to challenge her.
"Catherine, we're just supposed to drop the case, and IF we have time we work on finding Grissom and Sara?" asked Nick incredulously.
"Look, the assignment slips are here, let's just get through this so that we can get back to working the case, said Catherine with a sigh. "Greg, there's a B&E out on Industrial. Nick, take this trick roll over at the Tangiers. Warrick, check out missing person's case over in Henderson. I'll...I'll stay here and look over the documents that were just sent over from the county assessor and from Folsom State Prison where Mallory was serving his time. Let's get going guys."
Both Greg and Warrick took their assignment slips, grabbed their jackets, and walked quickly out of the room. The sooner they wrapped up their cases, the quicker they would be back to looking for leads for their missing friends.
Nick hesitated before taking his own assignment slip. "A trick roll takes precedence over finding Grissom and Sara? This really sucks, Catherine," said a disgusted Nick Stokes as he headed out the door, brushing by Brass who was just outside the door.
Catherine leaned against the table and shut her eyes. Frustration was building up in her and she wanted to strike out at anyone who came near. Captain Brass, sensing an explosion about the erupt, quietly entered the layout room and gently put his hand on her arm. "Vartann is checking with the gang unit. Mallory is tied up with the drug lords and with some major players. We're not giving up here."
Catherine gave Brass a wan smile. "Thanks. It's just that we have come up with so many dead ends. Something has got to give."
A/N: It has been a lot longer than I intended to post this chapter. My apologies to everyone out there. Life has been getting in the way. Please review as they are appreciated, and I could always use the encouragement.