AN: Thanks again to all the reviewers, I love hearing from you guys. Hope everyone is doing well.

Take care and enjoy.

CHAPTER 5

CATHERINE POV

"Damn it," I curse, tossing down my pen as I check the readings on the printout for the seventh time.

I'm half tempted to run them again.

But, I think I need to give this particular quest up. As much as I would like to have finally found my answer, this unfortunately clearly isn't it.

Sidle's weapon was not fired recently.

And, after also double and triple checking the video, I'm confident this is the weapon she was seen loading.

"Damn it," I mutter again, running a tired hand through my hair.

Just then, my phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, I cross my fingers that this whole day isn't a loss.

"Willows."

"Catherine! Oh how sweet it is to hear your voice…"

"Vince, now is so not the time."

"Alright," he agrees. "I recognize that tone. Quickly moving on…"

I hear the shuffling of some papers before he clears his throat.

"Those records you sent me on one Gabriel Williams. Made mostly for some very dull reading. Nothing in his background that raised any flags. Guy is practically a boy scout. Financials on the surface seem legit, not much large movement of unexplained sums. But, there was something interesting when I dug a little further."

More shuffling of more papers.

"Here it is. So, he had two savings accounts, likely to separate his assets for additional security. Not in itself all that unusual. But, from his second savings account with a slightly smaller sum, there's a monthly payout and deposit for exactly the same sum. Two hundred fifty dollars. Looking at his other financials, it's the only thing I cannot trace back to one of his bills or expenses."

He sighs.

"I can't find out where the money goes. He takes it out, then, just about a week after he removes it, he replaces the same amount likely to keep the balance the same and not draw attention to the missing money."

"How long?"

"That's the thing, this has been going on for almost twenty years – ever since he opened the account at age 18y."

I swallow, mind already working the angles.

"Thanks, Vince. I appreciate it."

"Anytime," he says. "Take care and hopefully see you back here soon."

We say our goodbyes and I place my cell back in my pocket.

Routine payouts in financials are never a good thing, especially when you can't trace the receiving end. Who or what was Gabe paying for monthly? Two hundred and fifty dollars isn't a huge amount, but over the course of the nearly twenty years he's been paying it, it would definitely add up.

But, while I'm eager to have finally found something to go off of, the biggest problem in this scenario is that this has been going on long before Gabe was even a CSI. There's no way this payout was related to anything on the job, like evidence tampering, data altering, etc.

Sighing, I rub my temples.

"Catherine."

The voice at the door startles me – having been mostly the only person at the lab the last couple hours. Or so I thought.

"Gil?"

"Can I see you in my office?"

Raising a brow, I nod, slowly following him out.

"She did what?" I ask, eyes wide.

"She turned herself in," Gil states again, slower this time. "Apparently tried to confess to negligent homicide and get the case pushed through court immediately."

"And?"

"And I convinced them to wait for the outcome of your investigation," Gil tells me.

"And?"

"And since your deadline is practically only a few days away, they agreed."

I let out a relieved sigh, knowing how close Sidle came to achieving her goal of getting this case closed before I can get those answers I so passionately seek.

And, this just confirms to me how desperate Sidle is to keep me from my answers. To turn herself in just to get the case closed and my questioning shut down…

"I'm close to something," I promise Gil. "I just need those extra days."

"Well," he says tightly. "Now you have them. I suggest you make the most of it."

"Nice try."

Sara spins, likely pissed that I managed to sneak up on her again. Not to mention the fact that her ruse this morning failed.

"Willows," she mutters darkly in greeting, turning to pull her sweaty t-shirt over her head and toss it with her shoes back in her Jeep "I'm going to have to pick a new running spot. Apparently this desert trail half way to Colorado still isn't remote enough."

"Are you really that desperate that you would turn yourself in?"

Sara doesn't answer, simply adjusting her tank top and running shorts. She likely figures the question is rhetorical anyway.

"You do realize that if you're convicted, you go away to jail for a very long time. Why the hell would you want to rush that? Are you that desperate to get me to stop asking questions and learning the answers?"

Sara pauses, but quickly resumes her actions.

"Sidle," I call out, my tone gentler. "Please look at me."

Sara's body remains still before eventually bringing her eyes to mine.

"I'm trying to help," I state honestly. "I don't want to see one of Vegas' best CSIs get locked away until she's well into retirement age. Your career, your life, everything will be over once this case goes to court."

While I haven't exactly figured out all the angles here, I've gone back to my original conclusion. The one that with the clearing of Sidle's gun seems to be the only thing confirmed. Sidle is protecting Gabe.

Sara starts to turn, her body flinching when I reach out to take the front of her tank top in my hand.

"Sidle," I hold her firmly in place until she looks at me. "Don't go down for something you're not fully responsible for. Gabe is dead. You shouldn't waste the rest of your life rotting in some jail cell because of some attempt at loyalty."

Sara's body is tense under my grip, her eyes angry and dark.

"Just this morning you thought I killed him." Her words have my heart stuttering in my chest, surprised at her knowledge of my requesting her service weapon. "You thought I killed him, Miss Willows. So don't come here now acting like you care about me, not when less than 24 hours ago you thought I was a murderer."

Sara pushes back from my grip.

"I was wrong, and I'm sorry. But now I know for sure you're protecting him," I respond, leaving no room for pointless arguing. At least we've seem to agree that refuting this particular point is now futile. It's slow progress, but it's at least progress. One fact in this case that we can both stop arguing about and move forward from. "Why do you feel like you always need to protect the world?"

"I wasn't aware Gabe was the world."

"You know what I mean," I tell her. "I've read your file. I know the actions you've taken to bail out those around you. Even at your own expense."

"I don't know what you're talking about…" Sara mutters.

"Of course not," I shake my head at her stubbornness. "Sidle, stop covering for everyone else and for once look out for yourself. Or, at the very least, let me look out for you. This isn't a game. If you're convicted, your life is over."

Sara's jaw is tight.

"I'm not the one who needs to be protected," she says.

Looking around, she makes sure we have no nosy bystanders. Though these trails are remote, there are a few other cars in the lot.

"Like I said before, you need to walk away from this before…"

"Before what?"

"Before you get hurt."

I straighten up at her direct wording. She'd alluded to the same message the other night in my hotel hallway, but it's clear that she's done with veiled threats.

She, like myself, has decided to be a whole lot more direct as time keeps quickly ticking by.

"Hurt by whom?"

Sara scoffs darkly, "You don't learn, do you? Even when I'm telling you that what you're doing is dangerous, you just keep pushing."

"It's my job."

"Bullshit," Sara breathes out, finally losing her stoicism to let me see the anger beneath. "You're just pissed that there's something you can't figure out."

Sara shakes her head.

"I hope your curiosity is something you're willing to lose your life over," she threatens tightly. "Because that's the type of situation you're in, lest I haven't made myself clear on the matter previously."

"If I believed you," I respond. "Then perhaps I'd give these threats of yours some more thought. But right now I see a desperate young CSI who is willing to do and say desperate things to get me to walk away. Today's actions of yours, trying to get yourself fucking arrested, only furthering my beliefs."

I shrug tightly.

"Why the hell would I walk away now that I'm finally getting somewhere?"

"Because you care about your daughter."

That stops me in my tracks, too shocked to say anything.

"That beautiful little girl I saw at your hotel the other night," Sara says tightly. "She's your daughter, yes?"

I'm still too caught off guard to form words, only nodding slowly.

"If you want her to be an orphan, then keep going," Sara says tightly. "Keep asking your questions and publicly requesting background checks."

She moves closer, eyes boring into my own.

"But if you care at all about your little girl," Sara's voice is stern. "Then you walk away right now before it's too late. Your little girl shouldn't have to pay the price for her mother being too damn stubborn to listen to reason."

The silence stretches on, one full minute after another.

Then, it's finally broken with a harsh meeting of skin against skin.

"Don't you dare bring my daughter into this, threatening her," I bite out, feeling the sting against my hand as the outline of my fingers start to appear in deep red against Sara's cheek.

"Am I clear?"

Sara works her jaw tightly, turning back to face me.

"I'm not the one threatening your daughter, Miss Willows," Sara counters. "You are."

Slapping her again, this time Sidle takes a step back to keep herself upright.

Then, pulling herself to her full height, her fingers wipe at her mouth to remove the small trickle of crimson that escapes from a cut in the corner of her bottom lip likely caused by my ring.

"Every minute you stay here, pushing further into this investigation," she bites out tightly. "You put yourself, and her, in more and more danger."

"You can keep hitting me all you want," she says quietly. "You can call me a liar all you want."

Spitting the blood from the inside of her mouth into the desert sand, Sara holds her ground.

"But it doesn't change the truth of what I'm saying. Or the truth of what you're doing."

"You want me to what?"

"Just watch her for a few days, please?"

"Catherine…"

"Please," I state desperately.

While I still think Sara Sidle is one of the most manipulative and secretive liars I have ever met, I'm not willing to take any chances that she's right.

Not for Lindsey.

If I'm in danger, that's one thing, but I won't endanger my innocent, beautiful little girl.

The girl that gives my life meaning.

My friend looks up, eyes still shocked and in disbelief that this is really happening.

Before this trip to Vegas, we hadn't spoken in nearly two years.

Not out of spite or something bad, but life simply heading in different directions.

We used to be best friends while I was in school in Vegas, then time, distance, and life took us away. I took a job back home in Montana, and she left to get her doctorate in Boston. For a while we were able to keep up via emails or texts, but even those slowed before they all together stopped.

Still, Kelly is someone who I would trust my life with. And, therefore the only person I trust with my daughter's.

"Kel, please," I state. "I have no other options here. I'm so sorry."

Kelly studies me, letting out a long breath.

Lindsey had been hanging out with her when I've left the hotel these past couple days, but to ask Kelly to keep Lindsey here overnight for multiple days…

"What about you?" she asks. "If you're asking me to take Linds, I assume there's some threat from a case?"

Kelly and I have been friends long enough that she remembers past cases when we were both still living in Vegas where I've sent Lindsey to stay with her for a while until things blew over or the suspect was caught.

While the times have been relatively few, this unfortunately isn't the first of these particular house calls.

"I'll be okay," I promise her. "I honestly think this is all a ridiculous attempt at getting me off a case, to be honest. But, I want to be safe."

"Is this the case from the news?" Kelly asks. "The one where that CSI got killed?"

I look up.

"Sorry," she shrugs, "they mentioned they were bringing in an independent outside CSI for the investigation…now you show up here…so I figured…"

I nod, smiling slightly as I remember just how brilliant Kelly is. Not that her brilliance was ever in question, her now being one of the best engineers in her field, but still.

"You aren't going to confirm or deny, right?" Kelly says with a smile.

"I don't think I need to," I smile back.

Seeing Lindsey already making herself at home on Kelly's couch, rifling through my friend's DVD selection, I reach out and hug Kelly tightly.

"I really owe you."

Kelly smiles as she pulls away.

"You really do."

"She's gone."

Sara doesn't look up, simply taking her coffee from the counter and moving towards the back of the bookstore.

"My daughter," I clarify tersely. "She's gone, off to spend the rest of her break with someone other than her mother. Who misses her very much and was more than looking forward to this time together, mind you."

When Sara folds her long frame into the last bench in the back of the store, I finally lose my restraint and press my car keys loudly into the wooden railing.

"Are you listening?"

"Yes."

Sara doesn't look up, her eyes roaming over something on her phone, finger sliding across the screen while her brows furrow slightly.

"And you have nothing to say?"

Finally, Sara looks up. Her eyes hold an almost curious expression.

"Do you want me to congratulate you for getting your daughter to safety, Miss Willows?" she questions. "Perhaps they sell banners for that? Or can write something poetic about it for you on a cake?"

I take in her quirked brow, the ever darkening shadows under her eyes.

The deep crimson gash in her bottom lip that she got just yesterday by being just as crass as she is now.

"Do you purposefully try to rile people?" I question honestly. "Apparently didn't learn your lesson from the last time you tried that with me?"

Sara smiles slightly, tongue absently running over her cut lip before taking a sip of her coffee.

"What are you going to do?" she questions after a few swallows. "Hit me in the middle of a public store?"

"Don't tempt me," I warn her seriously.

I don't know what it is about Sidle. Something about her just annoys the shit out of me. Her insolence, her biting wit, her emotionless mask that she hides it all underneath.

Typing a few things into her phone, Sara pushes herself to a stand.

As she moves past, she stops to quirk her head slightly over her shoulder.

"To answer your original question," she says evenly. "No, I'm not happy."

Looking at me over her back, she shakes her head.

"You're still here."

Tossing the coffee she barely touched in the trash, she gives me one last look.

"The warning wasn't just for your daughter's sake, Miss Willows," she says. "You aren't safe here either."

Zipping up her jacket, she places her sunglasses over her eyes before leaving me alone with my thoughts.

My less than pleasant thoughts.

Heading back to my hotel room, I toss my keycard down on the bed in frustration.

Looking over at my daughter's empty bed, some of her clothes still scattered around the room, I swallow tightly. I miss my little girl. I miss the fun activities we were supposed to have been doing during our time here.

"Fuck you, Sidle."

Taking a deep breath, I register the growling in my stomach. When was the last time I ate? Probably this morning before I left on my wild goose chase for the day, getting spun in more and more circles on this damn case that is going pretty much nowhere.

Picking up the room service menu, I quickly glance over the sparse selections. Apparently this place specializes in pasta. And pasta. And more pasta. Rolling my eyes, I pick something absently and grab the phone.

Dialing zero, I hear the phone start ringing. But, I also hear something else.

Something I shouldn't be hearing, and recognize all too well.

"Front desk," the bored sounding hotel employee answers. "Hello?"

"Oh, yes," I snap out of my thoughts, trying to act like everything is fine. "Sorry, long day."

"What can I help you with?" the impatient voice questions.

"I'd like to order some room service. The pesto with some bread on the side."

"Twenty five minutes."

The person hangs up, and I do as well.

As soon as the phone hits the cradle, I immediately unplug it from its jack. Then, I flip it over.

Nothing obvious on the outside, but I know it's there. I'd recognize those clicks anywhere. I don't say anything aloud, no matter how much I want to curse, knowing there could be other things here in this room.

Prying off the back of the phone with my finger, I see a small black device clipped into the mess of wires. Fuck. Replacing the back of the phone together, I look closely around my room.

It only takes me a few moments of looking, really looking, to confirm someone has been here.

Someone who definitely wasn't me or the cleaning crew.

"Shit," I whisper quietly.

Glancing down, I pull my cell from my pocket. Landlines like the hotel phone are easy to bug, but unfortunately, cell phones are almost easier. All you need is the phone number, and some good hacking skills.

My morning conversation with Vince…

"Damn it," I mutter again.

I'm pissed as hell.

But, though I hate to admit it as I glance around my dimly lit room, I'm also shaken.

And pretty damn scared.

What the hell have I gotten myself involved in?

AN: Thanks for reading.