Journey Through the Past- Chapter 40
Dr. Ken Jones was escorted to Desert Palm Hospital under the guard of two Las Vegas Police Department officers handpicked by Captain Jim Brass. The guards were there mainly for the man's protection despite the fact there were charges pending. Dr. Jones knew the precarious position he was in. Lucas would try to find a way to make Jones pay for choosing to help Grissom and for cooperating with the LVPD.
As he carefully perused the file open before him, Jones pursed his lips in deep thought. The doctor examined the tox panels the crime lab had given to Dr. Taylor. He compared the results to those of the blood tests that Taylor had ordered when Grissom was first admitted when he was initially shot. Except for a low level of Sumatriptan, Grissom's blood tests came back as negative. Both Taylor and Jones were not concerned about the Sumatriptan as the patient was prone to migraines and probably had experienced a migraine a day or two before the shooting. It was obvious that the introduction of illegal drugs into Grissom's system occurred after his shooting.
Jones was tempted to suggest that a treatment of ibogaine, which he had used in the past for his patients addicted to cocaine and heroin. The use of this drug to counteract the addictions was not without its problems, and coupled with the seriousness of Grissom's injuries, made Jones want to rethink the best and effective way to treat Grissom.
Looking up at Dr. Taylor, Jones shook his head. "I'd like to prescribe more than the Demerol that you're giving him. It's probably not doing much as far as helping him to control the withdrawal and the pain. Did the crime lab send any notes or pages about dosages, schedules, and his reaction to the dosages?"
Taylor shook his head," The only thing they sent over was the results that you're looking at. I tried to convince Grissom to let us give him morphine or something stronger. He was adamant that he not be given anything in the form of a needle. It's like he's deathly afraid of them."
Jones cocked his eyebrows and nodded. "Understandable," mumbled Dr. Jones. He mentally made a note to talk to Catherine Willows or Captain Brass about going through the evidence collected.
"Well, let's go see our patient, shall we?" Jones said, closing the folder and rising from his seat in Taylor's office.
"Okay. Listen, are these guys going to be following you everywhere you go?" asked Taylor, eyeing the two officers outside his office door.
"Yeah," said Jones wearily, "they're my new best friends."
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Gil Grissom silently gazed out the window, the soft sounds of Vivaldi's Sonata in G floated through the hospital room. The music did much to help him keep his mind off the tremors that were wracking his body and the constant pounding in his head. Clenching his teeth tightly, the man leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in the calming tones of the sonata. Sara had brought several recordings ranging from opera to jazz and a CD player in the hopes that the music would jog his memory while trying to soothe his jagged nerves. The music was soothing but did little to help him piece together the bits of memory that would surface.
"Gil…are you awake?" a soft voice broke through. Opening his eyes, Grissom saw Dr. Taylor standing near his chair with another gentleman behind him. Resentment coursed through him. God, someone else I should remember. Will the parade never end? I just want to be left alone.
Taylor noted the brief flash of anger that crossed his patient's face, and, just as quickly, it was gone. Sighing, his patient lowered his eyes and shook his head.
"Listening to Vivaldi, I see," said Jones, trying to gauge Grissom's mood.
"Sonata in G, actually," said Grissom shakily while giving the newcomer a look of curiosity.
"I enjoy Vivaldi very much. I believe that Rachel enjoyed Vivaldi too," said Jones nonchalantly.
Grissom's head shot up, and he stared up at the man before him. "You knew Rachel? How did you know her? She's dead, you know."
"Yes, Grissom, I know. She died a while ago…of a virus," the man said softly.
Grissom gave the newcomer a puzzled look. "No. Sh…she died in a car explosion, along with my son."
Studying the man, Grissom added, "Who are you? What do you know about Rachel?"
"Grissom, this Dr. Ken Jones…Um…he's here to help you piece together your memories. He's an expert in working with patients…um… in your situation," said Taylor.
Dr. Taylor then turned to his colleague, "I think I'll leave the two of you alone for awhile."
Handing Grissom's chart to Jones, Taylor touched his patient on the shoulder, "Gil, try not to give Dr. Jones too hard of a time, will you?"
To Dr. Jones, Dr. Taylor commented lightly, "A word of caution, he's great at mental chess. Don't let him get the best of you."
"Yeah, right Doc. I barely remember who I am," said Grissom drily as he crossed his right arm across his chest to minimize the tremors.
With that comment, Taylor gave both men a smirk and made his way out the door.
"Well, you look much better than when I saw you last. How are you feeling now?," asked Jones.
Grissom sighed. He really didn't want to this all over again. "I've already talked to a psychiatrist, a counselor, and a neurologist. So which are you? Are you going to tell me that everything will come back to me and things will be okay? Are you going to tell me that these damn tremors are going to stop and that the constant pounding in my head will go away?"
Jones pulled up a chair, sat down across from Grissom, and regarded the man sitting before him. "I can help you with the tremors, headaches, dizziness, and nausea, but you have to trust me. I can also tell you about Rachel. Gil, do you know what year it is? Do you know how old you are at this moment?"
Grissom stared back at the man seated across from him. "They tell me that it's 2008. That would make me 52. I honestly don't know how old I feel."
Then something clicked in the back of his mind. Grissom's eyes widened and he spoke in a quiet tone, "I remember. I remember that you tried to help me before…before I came here."
Grissom took a deep, ragged breath as the pain in his ribs reminded him that he shouldn't. "Ra…Rachel and Scott weren't killed in that explosion. She and the baby both weren't in that car. Mallory…Mallory took them away, but…" Grissom stopped. He couldn't remember the exact circumstances of why his family was spared.
Turning to Jones, Grissom looked at the doctor. "You…you took care of Rachel and the baby. They stayed with you and became your family, not mine. You loved her, didn't you?"
"Yes, yes I did. I loved her very much," said Ken Jones, the sadness creeping into his voice, but then the doctor sat up a little straighter, "but she always loved you, Gil. She never stopped loving you."
Suddenly memories of Rachel crashed over Grissom, and he looked away from Jones. Grissom swallowed hard. The grief of losing his family washed over him again as it had almost twenty years ago. The pain was fresh and raw.
"But she didn't die in the car explosion. She survived. She survived, and our son survived," whispered Grissom desperately. "You took care of her and raised my son. This had to do with Lucas Mallory. He…I…"
Grissom shook his head and shut his eyes, trying to make sense of this information. Realization made him re-open his eyes. Reaching up, Grissom grabbed Jones by his collar and with a trembling hand, shook the doctor, his mind reeling with distorted memories.
"What happened to my son? Where is Scott?" Grissom spat out. Waves of pain from his abdominal wounds forced Grissom to release the doctor and sink back in his chair, gasping. He ran a sweaty palm over his face and waited for Jones to answer him.
Ken Jones sat calmly back in his chair, quietly observing the range of emotions raging through the man sitting across from him. The doctor waited for Grissom to regain control of himself and said in a low voice, "Scott is alive and well. Gil, he's been here off and on since you were admitted. Scott has been worried about you. The times he has come to see you, you haven't been conscious. He helped me to help you leave the clinic. Those memories will come back to you. I know that you've heard that over and over again, but I know what I'm talking about, okay?"
"Scott…he's about twenty, isn't he? He was at the clinic. I met him. I remember seeing him, but I don't recall anything else, just flashes," whispered Grissom.
Holding his right arm across his side to lessen the pain and shaking, the man shakily stood up to make his way back to the bed. He felt the sudden need to lie down, not wanting to collapse on the floor. Jones immediately stood up and helped Grissom back into the bed. Jones pulled the blanket over Grissom and then adjusted the bed to a semi-reclining position.
"Gil, how's that? Has the dizziness passed?"
Grissom nodded weakly and rasped, "I…I don't want him to see me like this. I want to be able to hold it together."
"Yes, I understand perfectly, but in order to do that, you're going to have to allow us to give something stronger than Demerol. I can consult with Dr. Taylor and we can give you something that will ease the pain and the withdrawal symptoms. Until your body adequately heals from your wounds and you gain a little strength, we're going to have to placate the withdrawal until you are strong enough to work through the symptoms," explained Jones.
"Wh…what do you suggest? I just want to feel some modicum of control," Grissom asked in a shaky voice.
"Let me consult with Dr. Taylor with what we can use. There will be side effects with anything that we use, but we can keep it all to a minimum. Before we try to administer any new meds, how about we go over with you what the side effects are so that there won't be any surprises. Does that sound reasonable?"
"Yes…yes, I think that I can live with that," was the tight reply.
"Okay, good. I'm going to hunt down Taylor, and we'll discuss what we can give you. I'll be back in a while. Hang in there. Relief is coming," encouraged Jones.
"Not…not going anywhere," stammered Grissom.
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Sara and Scott emerged from the elevator to find Dr. Jones and Dr. Taylor deep in conversation next to the nurses' station. Quickening their pace, they approached the two doctors.
"Dr. Jones, it's good to see you again. I see that Captain Brass has given you an escort," smiled Sara warmly, noting Officer Mitchell and his partner a few feet away. Both officers acknowledged Sara's presence with a slight nod.
Jones lifted his head, his eyes lighting up in seeing Scott and Sara. Scott looked like he was faring well. The stitches from the gash in his head had been removed and, though his right arm was in a sling, appeared to be healing just fine from the ordeal with Mallory. The young man appeared well-rested and there was a sparkle in the young man's eyes that he had never noticed.
Turning his attention to Sara, Jones said with a smile, "My new buddies. They keep me from getting lonely. You both look like you're doing well. How is your side doing, Sara?"
"Dr. Evans just took out the stitches. It's still a little tender, but I'm doing fine. Thanks."
"And you Scott? How are you faring? The shoulder is healing okay?" asked Jones.
"Yes, it's doing fine. Dr. Taylor says that I need to use the sling for another week or two. I'm doing a little physical therapy to get some of the range of motion back and strength, but other than that, it doesn't bother me much. Thanks for asking," Scott informed Jones.
Sara glanced at the chart in Jones' hands and asked, "Have you seen Gil? How did he seem to you?"
Jones noted her concern and tried to reassure her. "Sara, he's doing surprisingly well, all things considered. Dr. Taylor has gotten me up to speed on Grissom's condition. It's starting to come back to him, but at the moment, I think the priority will be for him to heal from his physical wounds before we try to treat the physical addiction. When he does go through the physical withdrawal, it's going to take a toll on him. We need him to be as strong as possible."
Sara nodded, "Dr. Taylor, did you go in and see him, too? How did he seem? What do you think?"
Taylor jotted some final notes on Grissom's chart and gave his full attention to the young woman.
"We both know that the Demerol has him barely hanging on. As a result, I think that the recovery from his wounds has been impeded by the fact that he is trying to keep the withdrawal in check. Dr. Jones has been able to talk him into stronger pain meds that will help him with the pain which will allow him to rest easier. In turn, that should speed up his physical recovery. We were just discussing what meds we thought Grissom would agree to take. We want to keep the side effects of the meds to a minimum."
Sara nodded her understanding and asked, "Is he up for some company? I think that Scott here is anxious to talk to his father."
Dr. Jones glanced at Dr. Taylor and then back to Sara and Scott. "Sara, I think that it would be okay for you see him. However, Scott, I think it might be a good idea to wait. He remembers learning that you and your mother did not die in the explosion, but he doesn't recall meeting you recently. He…um…he wants to be more together."
Scott started to protest, but Sara intervened, putting a calming hand on the young man's shoulder. "Scott, Dr. Jones is probably right. Your dad is a pretty private person. I'm sure that he's anxious to see you too, but I'm also sure that he doesn't want you to see him as "broken," if you know what I mean."
Reluctantly, Scott agreed and watched Sara as she walked down the hall and entered his father's room. Sighing, the young man turned to Jones who was quietly studying him.
"So…um…how have you been? I haven't seen you since you were brought in last week. Are you getting along okay? Where are you staying?" asked Jones, curious to find out how Scott was faring in new surroundings.
"I'm doing okay. Greg Sanders, he's a CSI on Grissom's team, offered me a place to stay for a while. We're about the same size so he loaned me some of his clothes. I guess he really admires him. Anyway, he has told me lots of things about him so that I could maybe know him a little."
There was a moment of awkward silence between the two of them. Dr. Taylor sensing the tension, dismissed himself to allow the two men some time to themselves.
Watching the retreating back of Dr. Taylor, Scott cleared his throat, "So..um …how have you been? I understand that you are in a safe house and that you are working out something so that you will probably be in the witness protection program."
"Yeah, Captain Brass has made sure that I'm being well taken care of. I'm consulting with Dr. Taylor the best treatment for Grissom. They've kept me under wraps, otherwise, I would have tried to see you or contact you some way."
Scott looked down and contemplated what he wanted to say, the silence becoming awkward once again.
"You know, I…I don't even know what I should call you. I've always known that you weren't my father even though you raised me. Now that I have a chance to actually know my real father, I don't know what….I think that maybe, that maybe I should be angry with you…that I should hate you. You're part of the reason that my parents didn't end up together, yet I know how much you cared for my mother," Scott said slowly.
Ken Jones looked deeply into the dark blue eyes of the young man standing before him. "Scott, my intention was never to hurt you or your mother. It's a long story, but I was caught up in a situation where I didn't have a choice. Your mother taught me a lot of things. I didn't even know who Grissom was until Lucas had escaped from prison. Lucas dumped you and your mother on my doorstep when you were just a few months old. Lucas told me that he was trying to protect her from an abusive husband, and she never told me. I just knew that she never stopped loving your father. I…I never questioned that what Lucas told me wasn't the truth…maybe I didn't want to know the truth. I hope that you will forgive me."
Scott looked away, not sure how to respond. "I just need time to think about things, okay? I appreciate that you are willing to help my father. I've learned a lot about him from his team. They've made sure that I have everything that I need. It seems that he's…he's more than just their boss."
"Scott, I understand. Take all the time you need. Ms. Willows and Captain Brass are expecting me at the crime lab. I will see you later. Um….Captain Brass will know how to get a hold of me if you need anything," said Jones softly touching Scott on the arm.
Scott nodded and turned to watch Dr. Jones enter the elevator with his two escorts. Grissom's son walked down the hall and sat down in one of the chairs outside of Grissom's room to wait for Sara to come out and share with him his father's condition.
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Greg Sanders poured coffee into two mugs and then headed to the layout room. Catherine had called a meeting of the team to go over the newest evidence in Grissom's case. Jim Brass was meeting Ken Jones over at PD, and then they were to join the team in the layout room. Nick and Warrick had combed the clinic and the alcove for any evidence of the notes Jones had mentioned without any luck.
Catherine looked up as Greg entered the room and was handed a steaming mug of coffee. The senior CSI thanked her younger colleague and sipped the coffee appreciatively. Photos of the clinic and of the overhang crime scene lay spread out on the table. Catherine put her mug down, picked up a magnifying glass and proceeded to examine the photos of the alcove closely.
"What are you looking for, Catherine?" asked Greg inquisitively.
"Ken Jones said that he was sure that he saw Mallory put a sheaf of papers in the medical bag that we recovered when Mallory was arrested. Mallory must have somehow stashed the notes somewhere. I was thinking that he might have hidden them up in the overhang. He had to have known that he really couldn't have gotten away. I thought that I might be able to see any place in the alcove where the dirt is disturbed. It doesn't look like it from the photos. When Brass and Jones get here, let's see if we can track all the places that bag went once it left the clinic. We probably could use Scott here as well. Greg, Scott is at the hospital with Sara, isn't he?"
"I dropped him off there before I came here. He was hoping to see Griss awake."
"I'll ask Jim if he can pick him up and bring him over. By the way, how are the living arrangements going, Greg?" asked Catherine with a smile.
Greg shrugged his shoulders and gave her a half-grin, "A lot like living with Grissom, I suppose, except without all the bugs. Scott's like a walking encyclopedia. He's very much into botany, especially desert flora. I've introduced him to heavy metal, rap, and hip-hop. I figured that being isolated in that clinic for so many years had him culturally deprived. I don't think it's his cup of tea- he's much more into the classical. He's very well-read- like I said a younger version of the Bugman, but without the bugs."
"Give him time, Greg. I'm sure that after Griss recovers, he'll have Junior able to determine timelines using blow flies," interjected Nick as he stepped into the room.
The Texan grinned widely at younger CSI. They had both "adopted" Grissom's son and were impressed with the young man's wide range of knowledge.
Greg smiled back and then stared at the photos that Catherine was examining. "You know, Mallory didn't have the medical bag until Scott brought it up to the overhang. It was in the helicopter with us when we landed up there. Griss had Scott take it with them in case they needed it for Sara. I seem to recall that Jones loaded the bag up with bottles of water and had given Scott a "doctored" needle. Jones was alone in the helicopter with the bag when Mallory asked for it."
"Yes, he was alone with the bag, but why ask about them if he was the one who had hidden them? We wouldn't have known about them in the first place. The only time Mallory could have disposed of those notes would have had to be when Scott brought the bag up to the overhang. I think we need to interview both Scott and Jones- to verify whether those notes were in the bag in the first place when Jones was loading up the bag in the helicopter and whether Mallory could have somehow disposed of them when Scott or Grissom weren't looking. It's entirely possible that those notes were disposed of when Scott was trying to help his father and wasn't paying that close of attention to Mallory," Catherine reasoned.
"After we talk to Jones and Scott, maybe one or two of us should revisit the overhang," suggested Nick.
"I'll go back up there. Perhaps we should revisit the clinic. I know Days helped us process the area, but maybe a fresh set of eyes could come up additional evidence," suggested Greg.
"That's a good idea. Greg, I think it might be a good idea to take Scott up there. He knew that place inside and out. He could probably tell you what's missing or anything that might be out of place," added Catherine.
All heads turned as Brass rapped his knuckles on the doorframe of the layout room. "Is this a private party or can anyone crash it? I have Dr. Jones here with me, and I asked Warrick to bring Scott to lab," asked Brass as he led Jones into the room.
"Come on in. The party is just getting started," invited Catherine. "Dr. Jones, if you don't remember who I am, I'm Catherine Willows. This is Greg Sanders and Nick Stokes. If you don't remember, Greg was on the helicopter with us. The other member of our team should be here any minute, and that's Warrick Brown.
Jones reached over and shook hands with everyone. "Yes, I remember all of you from being out in the desert. I'm glad that none of you were injured because of my cousin. I hope that I can redeem myself by helping you with the investigation and help you get your supervisor back whole."
"Before we go any further with trying to find these notes, obviously it is important that we find them so that we have the proof that Grissom was given these drugs under duress, but how important are these notes for Grissom's recovery?" asked Catherine.
"It isn't actually essential that you find them. It just makes it a lot easier if I know exactly the combination of substances Lucas gave him. Some of the drugs, cocaine and heroin, for example, can be treated with the same counteractive drugs, but, depending how much PCP and Ecstasy he was also given, those counteractive drugs could exacerbate the symptoms."
"Well, let's get started then. We were just discussing the possibilities of where those notes you asked about could have gone. Dr. Jones, were those notes in the medical bag when you loaded it up with water?"
Jones stepped further into the room and placing both hands on the layout table. He leaned against the table, trying to recall what was in the bag. While the doctor was thinking, Nick bent down and placed a cardboard box on the layout table.
"Okay, let me see, I put six bottles of water in that bag. It also had several syringes that were labeled with both Grissom's and Sara's names," Jones paused momentarily, trying to recall the contents of the bag. "There were the usual items in a medical bag such as bandages, analgesics, sterile wipes, swabs, etc. I remember taking out some of the items and also preparing a syringe for Grissom that Scott could administer to help stabilize the withdrawal. I figured that the tremors and nausea were increasing."
Impatiently, Greg interrupted his recitation, "Yeah, we get all that, but do you recall the notebook or the notes?"
Dr. Jones lifted his eyes to Greg and then smiled, "Yes, yes, the notes were tucked under the syringes. It really didn't register what was under the syringes, but I can see a sheaf of papers lying flat at the bottom of the bag."
Nick then opened the box he had put on the table. Lifting the medical bag out of the box, the Texan set the bag in front of the doctor.
"We've gone through this bag and even checked it for hidden compartments. We didn't find any sheaf of papers. That means that Mallory stashed those papers in the overhang somewhere," reasoned Warrick.
Spreading out the contents of the medical bag minus the syringes, which were sent to the trace lab, the group examined the medical paraphernalia.
Absently fingering the swabs and bandages, Ken Jones mused, "He must have hidden them in that overhang, but it doesn't make sense for him to do that unless…unless he felt that he needed some kind of insurance from the Knights. I didn't really track exactly what was in those notes – just that he kept meticulous notes on what he was giving Grissom. He must have figured that you would never have let him get away."
"So what are you trying to say, doctor?" asked Brass.
"I really didn't ever go through the whole sheaf of papers. I just assumed that what was contained in there was everything that dealt with what Lucas was giving Grissom and the effects. I think that maybe Lucas included other information in there. I'm sure that he tried to plan a way for him to be protected if he was able to escape again."
Brass straightened up, a premonition of foreboding overtaking him. "I think that the security detail concerning Mallory needs to be beefed up. He's in isolation now, but I think that further measures need to be instituted before he can get any messages out," said Brass as he turned to head back to PD and County Lock-up.
"We need to send a team up there and reprocess the overhang. Any volunteers before I assign someone to go up there and reprocess?" asked Catherine.
"We'll all go, and we'll take Scott with us. The more eyes the better. Scott can help us with what went down up there. He also might be able to help us with finding other incriminating evidence at the clinic," volunteered Warrick.
A/N: I apologize for the long time between posts. Life is very busy right now with the ending of school. I should be getting a little more time as the school year winds down. I will be traveling later this week as I am attending my daughter's graduation from college in Kentucky. Just to give you a heads up, the next chapter will definitely be delayed as this one was. Please leave a review as it makes me happy. As always, all mistakes are my own.