Journey Through the Past- Chapter 22
A/N: Happy New Year everyone. I decided that I would go ahead put a warning for future chapters here. There will be a character death, though it probably won't happen for a chapter or two. Please, please review. Thanks to all who have, especially during this busy time of year when time is at a premium.
Grissom painfully hobbled around the confines of the abandoned mine shaft. Though he had moments of clarity, the constancy of the drugs in his system seemed to hang a veil of haze over his mind. He could not quite focus, and he felt as though he wasn't quite connecting all the dots. Trying to clear the haze, Grissom took stock of his surroundings. His son obviously frequented this little hideaway on a regular basis. The place was well stocked for someone who wanted to get away for a few days. Besides the air mattress, coolers, and the box filled with foodstuffs, Grissom also found backpacking gear, extra clothing, and a comprehensive first-aid kit. Grabbing another energy bar from the box next to the coolers, he sat back down on the air mattress and munched slowly on the bar, hoping that the pain in his stomach would ease off if he something to digest.
He tried to piece the fragments of memory that continued to flash through his mind, thinking that if he concentrated on something else maybe he could put off giving himself the rest of that first syringe. So many things didn't make sense, but the evidence that he had seen with his own eyes seemed to confirm what Mallory had told him. Was he really the monster that Mallory indicated that his was? If he was, why would Scott even want to help him? That didn't make sense. Scott should loathe Grissom for abandoning him and his mother. Grissom shook his head and tried to fit the pieces together to make a coherent picture.
The symptoms were slowly coming back as the trembling in his hands increased. He wasn't sure whether the rising anxiety he was feeling was because of his current situation or because of his body's need for another hit. Swallowing water from the water bottle he had taken from one of the coolers, Grissom hoped the water would help to settle the cramping in his abdomen. He looked with disdain at the row of neatly lined syringes that Scott had left him. He knew that he needed to give himself what remained in that first syringe, but Grissom was loathed to do so. He clenched his fists and wrapped his arms around himself. Shaking his head with disgust at himself, the man realized that he couldn't put off the inevitable.
Rolling his eyes and groaning, Grissom managed to stand up, and he staggered to where the syringes were. Falling to his knees in front of the cooler, he reached his hand out toward the shiny row of needles. His vision suddenly blurred and the single row of needles suddenly became two. Damn! I waited too long. Gulping, Grissom fumbled for the first syringe that lay on the cooler. Hoping that it was the right one, he shakily plunged the needle into his arm and depressed the plunger all the way down. Immediately heat traveled up his arm and he fell back panting. Pulling the needle from his arm, he tossed it away from himself.
Grissom lay back and relaxed as the cramps slowly eased off and the trembling settled to a slight shaking. He made his way back to the air mattress and lay on his side. The haziness increased as he started to hear voices outside the shaft call his name. Grissom squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep the panic that was starting to overwhelm him. Mallory and the guards had found him. He was sure of it. Pulling the Beretta that was still tucked into the back of his pants, the drugged man held the gun in front of him, determined to protect himself from his enemies who seemed to be closing in on him.
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Catherine held up the plastic bag that contained the vials. There were more than a dozen tubes in the bag. Six contained crystallized rocks that looked to be rock cocaine. The rest were filled with a clear liquid. Placing the bag carefully in an evidence bag, Catherine handed the evidence bag to Warrick. She reached back up behind the space and found another plastic bag with four syringes. Two of the syringes were empty and the other two were filled. Checking the space once more, Catherine found nothing more out of the ordinary.
"Rick, take this back to the lab and start processing this stuff. Start with trying to get fingerprints off the vials and off of the syringes. Have Hodges process what's in the vials. He should be able to get some trace out of what's left in these empty syringes. Everything has top priority. I'll get Greg and Nick to help me finish processing the townhouse," said Catherine.
Taking the bag of syringes from Catherine, Warrick left the room. Brass brushed past Warrick as he was hurrying out to his Denali. "What did you find Catherine?" asked Brass.
Holding up her hand, Catherine spoke quickly into her cell, "Nicky, I need you and Greg with your kits at Grissom's townhouse. Drop whatever you are doing. Get down here as quick as you can. I'll fill you in when you get here."
Turning her attention to the captain, Catherine surmised, "I found a stash and some syringes behind those books on the bookshelf. Jim, everything tells me that the stuff was planted there. Grissom is pretty particular about how he has his books arranged. If you look at the arrangement, every book has a specific place on the shelf. The books hiding the stash were out of place. It was like a flashing light pointing the way to the stuff. If Grissom was hiding the stuff, he would have been smarter about disguising the hiding place. This stuff was placed here for us to find, I'm sure of it."
"The evidence is falling too neatly into place. First the property titles, the business license, and now this…it feels too much like a set-up. MeKeen has been pressuring me for information. Says the sheriff is pressuring him," sighed Brass.
"We'll have to see what trace has come up with, but the evidence we have so far is solid. All we have to the contrary are our gut feelings, and my gut tells me this is all wrong. Let's hope that whoever is setting this all up slips up. So what are you going to do? What are you going to tell McKeen?" asked Catherine.
Jim Brass shrugged his shoulders and gave Catherine a half-smile. "Put him off as long as possible. He already knows about most of what you guys have uncovered. He wants to move in on raiding the various properties and is contacting the surrounding counties for cross-jurisdiction in raiding those properties not in Clark County. McKeen and Conrad have done a pretty good job in keeping the media out of it for the most part. McKeen feels that if Grissom and Mallory are in custody, the blow-up that will happen over all of Grissom's cases can be kept to a minimum."
"Jim, do you really think that Gil was into all this stuff, that he was the mole in the department, and that he was a closet addict?" asked an incredulous Catherine Willows.
"You know, I've been in this business for a lot of years. You think that you know someone. I thought I had it dialed in with Gil. I always thought that Gil was pretty much a straight shooter, you know what I mean? But people can surprise you. Maybe I didn't know Gilbert Grissom as well as I thought I did," said Brass in a quiet voice, a faraway look in his eyes.
Shaking his head, Brass brought himself back to the present. "Catherine, I don't know what to think. The evidence is so damning. If he is being set up, someone is doing a helluva job doing it."
Catherine nodded in agreement.
"Well, the sooner we can process the townhouse, the better. Maybe who ever is doing this left a part of himself behind. If he did, we'll find it."
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Sara paced the small confines of her cell, nervous and anxious. The effects of the drug that had been administered to her the day before had long worn off. She had slept little, unsure when Mallory or Jones might reappear with another syringe for her. The slim brunette would have to continue to act like she was under the influence of whatever mind-altering drug they thought they were giving her. Scott had assured her that the doses had been taken care of, but she still felt more than nervous about the whole deal.
Earlier, after he had completed his rounds, Scott had given her a quick update of the plan he had formulated. They would have to wait until after her next "injection" in order to try to make her escape. That would make it around late afternoon. Scott was uneasy about escaping while it was still daylight, but the thought of leaving Grissom alone for that long didn't sit well with either of them. Scott would bring her a change of clothing. He would also need to go to Mallory's lab and the infirmary to stock up on medical supplies he felt sure Grissom would need. Beyond getting both Sara and Grissom out of Mallory's clutches, Scott hadn't figured out much more.
Hearing voices outside her cell door, Sara made it quickly back to the cot, laid down, and shut her eyes. She heard the door squeak open and footsteps approach the cot.
"I think maybe we should wait. She's not even conscious," Sara heard Jones quietly comment.
Jones then bent down and started to take Sara's vitals. Sara tried to stay relaxed, but the moment Jones touched her, she instantly stiffened. The doctor started in surprise and then stared intently at the young woman lying on the cot. He shook her slightly.
"C'mon, Sara, wake up. Rise and shine. Sara, wake up," said Jones in a loud voice.
Sara slowly opened her eyes and squinted at the doctor bent over her as if she were trying to focus her eyes.
"Wha..where am I," Sara whispered slowly.
Jones sat back on the cot and observed the young woman.
"How are you feeling?" asked Jones with a suspicious look in his eyes.
"Dizzy…headache," said Sara slowly, hoping that Jones was buying the performance.
An impatient Mallory stepped forward and tried to hand Jones the syringe that was in his hands.
"Let's give her the shot and let's get out of here. I've got stuff to do. The boys still haven't found Grissom and time is running out. We've got to find him soon, dead or alive, or the plans I set in motion in Vegas will be for naught."
Jones took the syringe and looked at the label.
"Are you sure that you didn't make a mistake? She shouldn't be reacting like this. I expected her to be more out of it. She's much more reactive than I expected," said Jones in a low voice.
Sara started to sit up and held her head in her hands to make the men believe that she was suffering from dizziness and a pounding headache. She groaned softly.
Mallory shrugged, "Remember when we started Grissom's treatments…how we had to increase his dosages much more than we anticipated because it took more and more to get him to trip? I probably am not giving her enough. Let's give her this shot and I'll go back to the lab and make up another dosage and bring it right over. I'll have to adjust all the other dosages."
Jones nodded slowly. That seemed to make sense, but he had the feeling that that was not was going on here. He wasn't sure how he knew, but something was going on.
Taking the syringe from his cousin, Jones gestured to Mallory to help him hold Sara while he gave her the injection. Mallory stepped forward and roughly grabbed Sara's arms. Sara struggled against the rough hands that held her down, screaming for them to leaving her alone. Jones leaned in and quickly plunged the needle into her arm.
Sara felt the sting of the needle and gradually quit her struggle against Mallory. She closed her eyes and let her body go limp. Sara moaned softly as the men eased off of her. She waved her arms weakly and rocked her head back and forth. Both men stepped back, observing their handiwork.
"I'll prepare another syringe and bring it back here. I don't think that you need to help me. She looks like she'll be no trouble," said Mallory with a smile.
"Fine. I have a clinic to run and patients to treat. I really don't have time for this nonsense," said Jones.
After both men left, Sara sat up.She was in trouble. Scott's plan was not going to work if Mallory came back with another dose for her. There was no telling what would be in this next shot, but Sara was sure that it would not be a full dose as Mallory did not want her to overdose. Still, she needed to have her wits about her if Scott's plan was going to work.
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The under sheriff punched his cell phone again, trying to get a hold of either Jim Brass or Catherine Willows. He wanted to know how the investigation was going. He needed to move on this and the powers that be wanted both Grissom and Mallory taken care of. Impatiently, he listened to his phone ring and ring.
"Dammit! C'mon Brass pick up," exclaimed McKeen, looking disgustedly at his phone. He had gotten permission to raid the properties that LH Holding company and MG Enterprises held title to in Clark County only. He was pretty sure that Grissom was not being held in Clark County but in one of the outlying counties. Until more evidence against Grissom and Sidle was discovered, McKeen would have to hold tight on raiding the properties not in his jurisdiction.
Sighing, McKeen hit speed dial for Officer Daniel Prichard. Officer Prichard had earned the highest scores on the shooting range of all the officers on the force. McKeen would need the officer's skills when Grissom's and Sidle's whereabouts were discovered.
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Baker and Lopez searched through the gardens once more hoping to find some traces of their escapee. They reached the trail below the gardens and found a faint trail of blood. Following the trail, they circled around the far end of the gardens and continued through the desert where they lost the trail of blood.
Scanning the area before them, Baker took notice of several narrow ravines that fanned out from where they stood. Grissom could have gone up any one of these ravines.
"Let's split up. You take that one farthest that direction, and I'll take the one next to it. Grissom couldn't have gone far. It looks like these rocks were tearing up his feet pretty badly. Those ravines look pretty rocky and narrow. He wasn't in any condition to much climbing," said Baker.
Lopez nodded and proceeded to trudge his way to the narrow opening. The desert heat was causing the desert landscape to shimmer, and the men continued their search for the Grissom.
A couple of hours later, the men continued to explore the rest of the ravines. They decided to explore the widest ravine together. Here there was a sandy wash that ran down the center of the ravine. The men reasoned that of the routes that Grissom could have taken, this one was the most likely. Entering the canyon, they climbed their way up the canyon, finding a narrow trail along the sandy wash. When they were close to the end of the ravine, they found the bloody remnants of a sock. Searching the area closely, they could not see any sign of Grissom or his body.
"I think that maybe he was able to climb out of here. Let's climb up over those rocks. It looks like he could have made his way up that way," said Baker, pointing to a steep incline dotted with huge boulders and brush.
Grissom had drifted off into a hallucinogenic haze. He heard men's voices and tried to remember where he was. It seemed that he was in some kind of cave. Looking down, he held a 9mm Beretta in his shaking hands. Tilting his head back, Grissom slowly remembered coming to the shaft, and that he was escaping from a rehabilitation clinic. Scott had brought him here. Crawling to the entrance of the shaft, he peeked through the brush in time to see Baker and Lopez climbing up the same side of the ravine the shaft was hidden.
Cold sweat broke out across Grissom's forehead as he nervously braced his back against one side of the entrance, hoping that the thick cover of brush was enough to hide the opening. As the voices of the two guards became louder and closer, Grissom shut his eyes and held the Beretta in front of him with both hands. He listened to their conversation as he waited for them to discover where he was.
"Sam, Grissom's dead I tell ya. He's coyote bait. We need to get back to the clinic and tell Mallory so that if any plans need to change he can make 'em," commented a panting Lopez.
"Yeah, I doubt that we find him. It's already hotter than hell out here. I thought I saw some turkey buzzards circling around not far from here. My bet is they found Grissom's carcass. It'll take us too long to find out what those birds are feeding on, but my guess is that it's got to be Grissom. My guess is that now that Grissom is dead, Mallory won't have much use for Grissom's woman. She was pretty wasted from her last hit. I'm sure she's probably on her knees begging Mallory to give more of the stuff. Mallory had her treatment all planned out. I wonder if that will change," came Baker's comment.
Grissom slowly relaxed as he realized that the men had climbed past the entrance and not noticed the entryway. Slumping against the wall, he tried to think. Sara was in trouble. Scott was bringing her here, but Mallory was treating her for drug addiction. His only thought was that he had to get to Sara somehow. Scott would not know that Mallory's guards would be reporting back.
Crawling deeper into the shaft, Grissom grabbed the backpack that contained the extra clothing and pulled out a pair of boots. Hoping that his feet would fit into them, he painfully worked his feet into the boots. They were a little snug because his feet were still swollen and sore, but he able to pull them on and lace them up.
Shakily standing up, Grissom staggered to the entrance of the mine. He leaned against the entrance, gulping in mouthfuls of air, trying to gain his bearings. Tucking the Beretta once more in the back of his pants, Grissom waited a few minutes to make sure that Mallory's guards had left, and then carefully climbed down from the opening and slowly made his way down the ravine back towards the clinic.