AN: No time to say much more at the moment other than a sincere thank you to the reviewers...you guys keep this story going. Will respond to the comments/questions from last chapter at the start of next chapter...
Take care.
CHAPTER 17
CATHERINE POV
"Where is she?" I demand as soon as I enter the police station and spot Brass.
Coming over to me, he takes me by the arm and directs me to his office. Stepping inside and closing the door, he pulls the blinds against the window.
"Catherine," he starts, "She's pretty much alright, physically at least."
"Pretty much?" I scoff, shaking my head.
"Listen, there's something you should know."
Anxiously, I cast a glance at the door, wanting to simply walk through it and find Sara.
"What?" I question distractedly.
"Catherine, the person Sara is accused of murdering is the woman she had the affair with. She's dead, they found her body tonight."
Eyes shooting to Brass, I feel my mouth fall open.
"What?" I question, completely thrown by this new information. "Wait…how…how does anyone even know who that woman is? No one should know besides Sara and I…Sofia perhaps…"
"When they ran her profile, they got a number of hits," he says. "According to the lab computer logs, Sara had previously scanned a photo of her and ran it through facial recognition programs, presumably to find out her identity. Sofia recognized her as the same woman Sara was threatening at one of her scenes. Her prints had been run anonymously through the print lab after hours. It wasn't hard to connect the dots and he had her brought in."
Clenching my fists, I shake my head at the idea of such personal aspects of my life with Sara becoming so glaringly public.
"So Ecklie thinks Sara killed her to cover up her affair? That's ridiculous," I state. "Obviously everyone and their mother already knows about it."
Brass shrugs darkly, "Who knows what the hell Ecklie thinks. Other than the fact that he's wanted to get rid of Sara for years and this is like a lottery jackpot win for him. She's Sara's mistress, who Sara searched for and was then seen publically threatening, and now she shows up dead."
Nodding in frustration, I meet his eyes. "Can I see her?"
Sighing, he nods. "You can see her from the observation room."
I shake my head, hating that I can't get closer to her, can't actually talk to her right now.
But, deciding that seeing her from behind one way glass is better than nothing, I let Brass lead me out of his office and down the hall.
Stepping into the observation room, I nearly catch my breath at the sight before me.
"I'll give you some privacy," Brass offers quietly, stepping silently out of the room and closing the door behind him.
Looking through the glass, I see Sara sitting at the interrogation table, Ecklie standing on the other side of the table, leaning over and clearly encroaching on Sara's personal space.
The part that has me infuriated, however, is the fact that Sara is in full restraints.
Not just the simple handcuffs we occasionally use for the more uncooperative suspects. No, Sara is restrained using the cuffs reserved for those already convicted of crimes and residing in the federal prison system.
Her hands are in cuffs that are connected to a chain around her waist, which then holds a separate chain that trails down to a set of cuffs fastened around her ankles.
I don't know who the fuck Ecklie thinks Sara is, but unless he thinks she's Hannibal Lector, there is absolutely no reason to have her restrained in this manner.
Hell, for this type of interrogation there is no reason to have her restrained at all.
Leaning further over her, Ecklie smiles down at Sara, his voice drawing me out of my heated thoughts.
"And you always go running in the middle of the night?"
"What I always do doesn't matter. What I did tonight matters," Sara responds.
Her voice is strong, but I know her well enough to note the distinct edge of discomfort there as well.
Something tells me the restraints alone would be cause enough to make Sara uncomfortable, but to be restrained alone in a room with Ecklie is another matter entirely.
"I think what you did tonight is pretty clear, Sidle," Ecklie sneers. "What you did tonight is lying on a slab in the morgue."
Sara keeps her head angled low, her gaze directed to the far wall, not moving or reacting to Ecklie's words.
"We can do this all night, Sidle, I have nowhere to be."
At his words and Sara's slightly hunched posture, I look down at the time stamp on the recording monitor.
Ninety-seven minutes.
"Jesus," I mutter.
"Let's go over your alibi again," Ecklie suggests, taking a seat across from her. "You called yourself and left a message on your own answering machine."
"Multiple messages," Sara responds. "Like I told you before. Every half hour from the time I left the house for my run."
"How convenient," Ecklie states.
"Your opinion of their convenience is irrelevant. They're time stamped and the GPS location of my phone when I made them serve as ample alibi for the hours you requested to know my whereabouts."
Ecklie takes a slow sip of water, simply watching Sara as he swallows. Standing, he moves and walks slowly to stand directly behind her.
Coming to a stop, he stays there, placing himself at her back.
Inwardly I cringe, knowing Sara absolutely hates people standing or approaching her from behind. Add in the restraints, and he is going to be dangerously close to pushing Sara into a panic attack.
When I see his face, his expression, I realize he knows exactly what he is doing.
"You okay, Sara? You seem a little nervous."
"I'm fine," Sara gets out, keeping her head raised defiantly and forcing her voice to remain even.
"You sure?" he asks.
Then, without warning, he drops the water glass held in his hand.
Watching as if in slow motion, the glass shatters deafeningly loud against the tile floor.
The moment it hits, Sara jerks away, her restraints severely limiting her movement, but her body jolting away as much as possible.
"Hey!" Ecklie yells immediately, reaching forward and slamming her back flush against the metal chair. "You stay put or I'll find something to make you stay put!"
Breathing heavily through clenched teeth, Sara's whole body is tense as she fights the urge to pull out of Ecklie's grip.
"You settle down right now, Sidle!" he warns, leaning in closer to her. "I warned you before and I'm not going to tell you again!"
Not able to take it anymore, I nearly rip the observation door off the hinges as I storm to the door of the interrogation room. Forcing myself to take a brief breath before I enter, I open the door as calmly as I can.
Stepping inside, Ecklie's eyes immediately meet mine, a perverse grin crossing his face.
Sara, however, keeps her head turned downward and angled as far from Ecklie's body as possible, her gaze burning into the floor as her body starts to shake.
"Catherine," Ecklie greets cheerily, "Glad you could join us."
"Pleasure's mine," I respond absently, keeping my eyes on Sara. "Can I have a word with you outside?"
Ecklie looks me over, his face breaking out into a smile. "We can talk right here."
Seeing Sara's shaking continue and her hands clenching into fists, I try another tactic.
"Why don't you go grab yourself some fresh water, I can keep an eye on Sara. I think Brass was looking for you, anyway."
Searching my eyes, Ecklie finally shrugs.
Giving Sara one last push against the chair, he finally takes his hands off her.
"I'll let you two catch up," he offers, his voice alight with amusement. "Something tells me the two of you have a lot to talk about."
Making his way to the door, I catch his arm before he leaves.
"I think it's safe to take the restraints off, Conrad. She isn't going anywhere."
"Oh," he says, patting his pants like he is looking for something. "Darn the luck, I think I misplaced the keys. I'll be sure to find someone else from PD to lend me theirs as soon as possible."
Smiling sweetly, he pulls out of my grasp and out the door.
Never before have I wanted to punch that man so hard in the face, consequences be damned.
"Catherine…" I hear from behind me.
Turning around, I see Sara watching me, body still trembling as she shakes her head slowly. "It's fine."
"No," I say angrily, moving closer to the table but not encroaching on her space. "It's not."
Moving her eyes towards the cameras mounted on the walls, Sara sends me a silent message to watch what I say.
Sighing, I run a hand through my hair, hating this situation for so many reasons.
"I'm sorry they called you," Sara says after a moment, her voice hoarse and her eyes having a hard time staying on mine.
"I'm not," I tell her honestly.
There is so much more I want to say to her, need to say to her, but here isn't the place. Now isn't the time.
"Have they officially charged you with anything?" I ask.
Shaking her head, Sara tries to readjust her position slightly, and she can't quite hide the grimace that crosses her face quickly enough for it to go unnoticed.
"No," she answers. "My alibi is solid. They would run into more problems than answers if they tried to book me."
"You called yourself?" I question.
Looking at me, Sara nods, her eyes telling me that there is more but that she cannot share it with me here.
"Yes," she simply says.
"Okay," I respond in turn, letting her know I understand.
Trying to change her position yet again, I know just how uncomfortable Sara must be to let me see even this much of her discomfort.
"I'm going to go find Brass, get someone to let you out of those," I tell her.
"Really, it's fine," she tries again, but one look in her eyes lets me know just how not fine it is.
How very incredibly not fine it is becoming.
"I'll be right back," I promise her.
Before she can say anything, I am out of the room and into the hall, searching for the nearest cop. Part of me finds it ironic that Ecklie was apparently concerned enough about his safety around Sara to restrain her so severely, and yet he neglected to post an officer by the door.
Manipulative bastard.
Turning the corner, I see Ecklie and Brass conversing with one another in the hall. Moving up to them, they stop talking as I reach their side.
"You're either going to have to charge her with something or let her go," I tell Ecklie, looking between him and Brass.
"That's precisely what Jim and I were discussing," Ecklie tells me warmly.
One look from Brass tells me otherwise.
"I'm going to go release her," Brass states, not leaving room for argument. "You know how to get a hold of her if you need to ask her any more questions."
Moving away, he turns around at the last moment, "Although, as Sofia just reported to me that Sidle's alibi checks out, I don't expect there to be much more that she can add."
Sending Ecklie a carefully shrouded look of warning, Brass moves towards the interrogation room.
Sending Ecklie a look of my own, I follow closely after.
"Hey, there, kiddo" Brass greets Sara, trying to keep his composure at the sight of her chained like a convict. "Let's get you out of those and on your way, yeah?"
Taking a calming breath, Sara nods as Brass pulls out his keys.
"Can you stand?" he asks her, knowing it will be easier to remove the cuffs if she is upright.
"Yeah," she responds, trying to get to her feet.
Seeing her struggle, and yet another suppressed grimace, I quickly step up to her side.
Taking her gently by the arm, I help her get to her feet.
Wasting no time, Brass kneels and uncuffs the shackles from her ankles. Then, moving upwards, he removes the cuffs from her hands, stepping lastly around behind her to remove the chain from her waist.
Gathering the restraints in his hands, Brass reaches out and gives Sara a gentle squeeze on the shoulder.
"I'll see you soon," he tells her warmly. "Take care of yourself."
Sara nods quietly, "Thanks."
Sending me a look, Brass makes his way out of the room, leaving the two of us alone.
"Come on," I direct Sara, making my way towards the door.
As she follows after me, I see that Sara is limping heavily on her right leg, having a hard time keeping much weight on it at all.
Stopping in my tracks, I move to take hold of her arm.
"I can make it," Sara states.
"Let's get you out of here, then we can debate it."
My point made, Sara opts to agree with me, electing the quickest mode of exiting the building. Even if that means accepting my help.
Once we are outside, I continue to help Sara to my Tahoe, grimacing as I watch her limp progressively worsen with each step.
"What the hell did they do to you?" I question, feeling anger rising within me at her state of wellbeing.
Sara shakes her head, "Let's just say someone must have indicated that I was armed and dangerous judging by the methods they used to bring me in for questioning."
"I'm going to kill that bastard," I promise for perhaps the millionth time of my career.
I may dislike Sara strongly right now, but I dislike Ecklie more.
Opening the passenger door of my Tahoe, Sara suddenly stiffens when she sees what I am suggesting.
"Catherine…" she warns gently, letting me know that she can take care of herself, find her own ride home.
That I shouldn't feel obligated to do anything for her. That what we had in the past shouldn't hold me to any feeling of responsibility in our present.
Especially since the last time we spoke I communicated very clearly that I had written Sara out of my life for good.
I sigh, "I don't want to over analyze this, Sara. And I don't want to argue about it. Tonight you're coming back to Nancy's with me. I don't want any of us to be alone."
Searching my eyes, Sara remains silent.
"Please, Sara," I request, my expression softening as I let go of my walls and reveal to her the concern held underneath, the genuine fear the events of tonight have unearthed within me.
I don't know what the hell is going on, what it means that the woman Sara slept with has just shown up murdered in the streets of Vegas.
But, instinctively, I know that it cannot possibly mean anything good.
Her own eyes mixing with a myriad of unspoken emotions, she eventually nods.
Pulling the Tahoe into the drive, I cut the engine and step around to help Sara out of the car.
Holding her around the waist, I try to ignore what it is doing to me inside to have her this close, to hold her like this.
Ascending Nancy's porch, I unlock the door with one hand, pushing it open and helping Sara inside.
Moving towards Nancy's kitchen, I gesture to the table.
"I think you should probably have a seat," I suggest, feeling how unsteady she is.
"No," Sara says quietly, "I think the lengthy sitting was part of the problem. I'll…lean…"
Sighing but deciding not to argue, I direct Sara to Nancy's counter, helping her get herself positioned so that she can lean back against the marble surface.
Stepping away and removing my hands from her, I clear my throat, wishing this wasn't as awkward as it clearly is.
Looking around her, Sara seems just as uncomfortable right now as I am.
Then, as I am placing my keys and my coat on the kitchen table, I see her furrow her brows in concern.
"Where's Nancy?"
Putting some coffee on to brew, more to have something to do than anything else, I pretend to watch it percolate as I answer.
"Her neighbors have this competitive mah-jongg competition every Thursday night," I say. "It goes on literally all night. I made her go when I left to go to the station, didn't want her here alone."
Raising a brow, Sara stifles a smile. "I'm sorry…I know in light of everything that's happened tonight I shouldn't find that funny…but…wow."
Not able to help myself, I find my lips betraying me and pulling into a smile as well.
"Yeah. I think I owe her a couple dinners."
Nodding, Sara shakes her head before growing serious. "Cath, I think we should talk about what happened. Before she gets back."
I shake my head, turning to focus my full attention on her.
"Oh, right," I state coldly. "More secrets? More lies? More decisions about who in your life gets privy to what?"
Perhaps now that the immediate danger has passed, now that I know that Sara is more or less alright, I can allow myself to be angry with her. To not have to censor myself or my emotions.
Narrowing her eyes, Sara seems confused by my words, my accusation. "No...that's not it, that wasn't what I meant."
Taking a breath, Sara's gaze grows uncertain.
"You want to wait for her to get home? Talk about the woman I cheated on you with and whether or not I put a bullet in her head tonight? That's fine by me."
Ignoring her comments about Nancy, knowing in the end she is right and didn't mean it the way I was insinuating she did, I instead focus on the rest of her statement. The topic we really do need to be discussing.
"Did you?" I question, my voice sounding harsh even to my own ears. "Did you kill that woman tonight, Sara?"
As soon as I have said it, see the devastation that spreads throughout Sara's features as a result, I immediately regret it.
I think part of me wanted to hurt her, to cause her pain in return of all the pain she has caused me lately.
One look at her eyes lets me know I accomplished that goal spectacularly.
"Sara…" I start, already shaking my head in regret.
"No," she cuts me off, "It's a fair question."
"No, it's not," I tell her pointedly.
"Why not, Catherine?" Sara questions, her own voice genuine. "You probably never thought I would cheat on you. Never thought I would relapse back to using narcotics and then use your sister to help me keep it from you. Why is killing someone suddenly out of the question?"
Shooting to my feet, I nearly find myself getting in her face to let her see up close just how livid I am. But, I stop my steps at the last minute.
"Fuck you, Sara," I seethe instead. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to throw that all in my face to try to prove some point."
Taking a deep breath, I match my own heated eyes to hers, neither one of us willing to look away.
Finally, just when I think we might be here all night, Sara turns her head away.
"We need to talk about those pictures. The fact that someone has been watching us, following us," Sara says quietly, trying to focus herself and her emotions back on the topics that need to be addressed. "And the fact that the same person watching us most likely just killed that woman tonight."
Eyes moving back up to mine, she looks genuinely concerned. "We need to figure out what the hell they want, who the hell they are. Now."
"Before things get even worse," I finish her unspoken message.
Nodding, she readjusts her position against the counter.
"Do you think they were trying to frame you tonight? To pin that woman's murder on you?" I ask her, trying to think of the reasoning behind what someone would have to gain from having her killed.
"Possibly. Whoever it is seems determined to keep us apart. What better way to do that then to send one of us to prison for the rest of our life?" Sara states with a shrug.
"She was perfect for it," she adds. "I had an affair with her, evidence of that affair got out, I searched for her identity using the lab's equipment, Sofia sees me threatening her at a crime scene. Then, at the end of the chain of events, she shows up dead. It's perfect."
"Perfect except you have an alibi," I state.
"Which they likely didn't know about. They see me running alone at night, figure it's the perfect time to kill someone and pin it on me," she says. "No one would expect a person to have an alibi when they are out running by themselves in the pitch dark."
I nod, agreeing with her logic.
"Is that why you made sure you had one?" I question, part of me impressed and part of me concerned at the idea, the implications.
Sara nods. "I knew someone was watching us, following us. Did I expect them to commit murder, take things to this level? Not in the least," she says. "But there was no way I was taking any unnecessary chances, not when I don't understand what in the hell their motive is."
I sigh, "Thank God you didn't."
My emotions towards Sara are an absolute mess right now, but I can at least sort them out enough to know that I wouldn't want to see her framed for a murder that she did not commit.
Sentenced to prison for the rest of her life.
Although, it would make it easier to not have to see her every day…
Rubbing my temples, I let out a breath.
"I don't like this, Sara," I confess to her. "If this person is willing to go to this extent to screw with us, what the hell are they going to try next?"
Shaking her head, Sara lets out a breath of her own.
"I don't know," she admits quietly.
"I can't go through this again," I declare angrily, running a shaking hand through my hair. "Not after everything that just happened with Nancy because of Chris. I can't do this all over again, going through my life wondering when I'm going to hear that our luck has finally run out, that one of us has been seriously hurt or killed."
My voice rises in pitch, my body reacting to the emotional tension running through me.
"I can't do it again," I plead, feeling my body start to tremble as the stress of the night has finally caught up to me. "When I got that call tonight…"
"Cath," Sara says quietly, her voice pained, tentatively taking a step away from the counter but stopping before she reaches me.
Uncertain of what to do, uncertain of what I want her to do, will permit her to do.
Then, seeing the tears that are now making their way down my face, Sara shakes her head.
Throwing caution aside, she closes the remaining distance between us as quick as she can with her leg.
Pulling me into her arms, she holds me close, not letting go as I initially struggle against her.
Letting out a sob, I stop fighting Sara, stop fighting the comfort I so desperately want to accept.
Wrapping my arms around her body I feel myself tremble violently as tears continue to fall down my face and land against her shirt.
"Shh," she tells me quietly, "I got you."
Clenching tightly to her back, I let the sobs rip their way through me, not having the strength right now to hold anything back.
The events of the night, the events of the past months, it all is simply too much to be able to maintain any sort of control.
Instead, I let myself completely go.
And, perhaps the biggest mistake of the night, I let Sara catch me as I do.
Hearing the front door open and close some time later, I extract myself gently from Sara's arms.
Sending me a look, Sara questions with her eyes if I am alright.
I'm not sure how long we stood in Nancy's kitchen, Sara holding me in her arms, but I realize now that my tears have stopped and I feel a steadiness returning to my body.
Nodding, I risk meeting her eyes, letting my own thank her for her comfort in ways that my words cannot. Ways my heart cannot.
Not now.
And probably not ever again.
Sara doesn't comment, simply nodding her understanding and taking a step away from me to lean back against the counter.
Just then, Nancy comes into the kitchen, about to speak before seeing our expressions.
Looking back and forth between us, Nancy takes in my tear stained face, Sara's averted gaze.
"Hey," she eventually gets out, deciding not to question what she just walked in on.
"What happened with you tonight?" she questions instead. "Catherine didn't tell me anything, just that she had something involving you at work to take care of…"
Her words are directed towards Sara, but the brunette's gaze shifts to mine, letting me know that it's my decision what to tell Nancy. It's obvious that she is hesitant, after everything that has happened, to say anything I wouldn't want her saying. Or to neglect to say something I feel she should share.
Sighing, I fill Nancy in as best I can, watching as she tries to take in everything I am telling her.
"Woah, wait," she calls. "Someone tried to frame Sara for murder tonight? Frame her for murdering that woman?"
"Maybe," Sara says cautiously. "There's still a chance this is all just a coincidence. Her death may have had nothing to do with us or our…situation."
"Right," Nancy scoffs. "Just a coincidence."
Then, softening her voice, she looks Sara over.
"You alright?" she questions, her expression growing hard when she sees the red marks marring Sara's wrists from the restraints.
In my account of what happened, I decidedly left out some details for her sake as well as Sara's. The restraints and Ecklie's harsh treatment at the top of that list.
"Yes," Sara answers tightly, already tugging down the sleeves of her sweatshirt to cover the bruising.
Taking a breath, Nancy looks less than convinced, and I cringe at the thought of what Nancy will think when she sees Sara try to walk.
"I asked Sara to stay here tonight," I tell her, trying to divert some of the attention away from the brunette who is growing distinctly more uncomfortable under my sister's gaze. "I didn't want anyone alone."
Nodding, Nancy finally diverts her eyes back to me. "Thus the mah-jongg."
Smiling, I shake my head. "Yes, I'm sorry about that."
Snorting, Nancy shrugs, "Don't be. I won a hundred bucks tonight."
"What?" I nearly choke. "You know how to play mah-jongg?"
Nancy looks at me like I'm crazy. "Who doesn't know how to play mah-jongg?"
Shaking my head, I let out a breath, relieved to have some of the tension out of the air.
I know our situation is tenuous, all of our nerves likely to be on edge for however long it takes for everything to be resolved, but right now I feel secure in the fact that all three of us are safe for at least tonight.
"Come on," I suggest, "Let's all head to bed. It's been a long night."
"You mind if I take a shower?" Sara asks quietly, directing the question to both Nancy and I, not sure who she should be asking.
Nancy looks at me before returning her gaze back to Sara, "Sure. There are towels in there you can use."
"Thanks," Sara offers, pushing away from the counter and silently making her way past us and out of the room.
Watching her leave, Nancy's eyes dart to mine when she is sure Sara is out of earshot.
"What the hell happened to her?" she asks darkly. "She can barely walk…"
"Ecklie happened," I answer simply. "He apparently thinks she is a vicious killer and deserved to be treated as such."
Taking a breath at my words, her expression grim, Nancy looks me over. "And how are you doing with everything?"
Shaking my head, I work hard at not losing my composure all over again. "I honestly don't know. When Brass called me tonight, told me she had been arrested for suspicion of murder…"
I trial off, not knowing how to continue.
Nancy raises a brow.
"Did you wonder if she'd done it?" she asks me sincerely.
Shaking my head, I furrow my brows. "No, of course not. But, I don't know, Nancy…I was really scared for her."
Nodding, Nancy reaches over and places a hand on my shoulder, understanding my dilemma.
Understanding the complicated dynamic between Sara and I right now that makes simple emotions like concern and fear feel like betrayals to yourself and everything you promised your heart you wouldn't do to it again.
She knows how hard I am trying not to care, not to absolve or forgive Sara for all that she has done.
I can't go through it again. I can't let Sara work her way back into my life a second time, only to have more pictures of God knows what sent to me to reveal her newest betrayal.
I can't do it, and I won't.
Squeezing my shoulder, Nancy lets out a sigh.
"She cares about you, Catherine," she says, her tone as unreadable as the message behind her words.
I nod, letting out my own sigh.
"I just wish I didn't care about her," I state honestly, hating myself for even uttering the words aloud, but knowing in the end they are the only way to sum up my feelings towards the brunette right now.
I care, even after all she has done. I look into those eyes of hers, and I see hints of the woman I used to know, the woman I thought she was, and I care.
And, in the end, I wish to hell I didn't.
Because, in the end, the woman that I cared about isn't the woman Sara proved herself to be. I don't know where that person went, or if she ever really existed at all.
"Me and her are done," I state sincerely. "It's just hard to know I will probably never be able to go through life completely not caring about her. I'm just not that type of person. And," I sigh, "it makes me hate her all the more for it."
AN: Thanks for reading.
