A/N: Thank you for reading! And a special thanks to those who review!

I Keep On Loving You

Chapter 11

Gil Grissom knew he had a decision to make—actual several decisions. He had read and re-read the handwritten pages from Dona Davis—an aide with twenty-plus years of working in the same facility, and the kind of person who was reliable; she made an expert, unshakable witness, the kind most often overlooked when young detectives and young lawyers were seeking details. She heard things; she knew things and she was worried enough to share her concerns with a stranger.

His primary decision was—should he tell Sara? And after that, what should he do? Should he simply ask—the facility's administrator, a man he had met briefly when Sara was admitted—or ask the therapist?

Folding all the papers together, he pushed away from the table and gave a low whistle; both dogs perked their ears. By the time he stood, the dogs were at his feet, patiently waiting for their leashes. Walking a dog was one of the easiest ways to think, he had learned, and he needed to think.

By mid-morning he was in the rehab center, watching Sara and the therapist work through a routine movement that would have been easily accomplished in a normal situation. By the look on Sara's face, it took all the strength she could muster yet she managed to keep a smile plastered across her face. Her chin trembled with effort as she succeeded in completing the transfer.

When he had arrived, he noticed a new water bottle beside her bed—the promised 'gift' from Benita, delivered by Dona earlier in the morning.

"One more time," the therapist encouraged, "and then we'll have a rest."

Sara puffed air, relaxed for a few seconds, and grabbed the bar again. Softly, she laughed, "I'm glad we'll both get a rest after this."

Rhonda replied, "Right, you'll get a rest—I have another one waiting!"

"Can I go outside again? Two friends are bringing lunch today."

Nodding as she guided Sara's move, "Outside is good—anytime." The therapist whispered, "I know it can be tough in here—everyone as old as your granny! Once you get to the rehab area—maybe tomorrow we'll get you down there and in compression boots—you'll have more to do. Right now we have four others who are not elderly residents and we try to schedule all of you at the same time."

Grissom suddenly saw an opportunity. He asked, "Do you have many younger 'residents' here?"

"Not many but we have our share—a few like Sara come here to regain strength and transfer to the institute. Some come because this is what insurance pays for—basic 'get-back-on-your-feet' rehab. By scheduling similar ages at the same time—it makes it easier in a lot of ways."

When Grissom's eyebrow lifted, the therapist chuckled, "Imagine playing Lady Gaga and Katy Perry for the Sinatra set. Or if we have 'Game of Thrones' on the television instead of 'Hart to Hart'—means world war three—or at least a major battle."

"Understand," Grissom said. His mouth twitched as Sara completed the exercise. Determination did not begin to define her efforts, he thought; Sara's fortitude for what life had given her was part of her character. He stepped closer to the bed but kept hands in his pockets. Sara had given explicit instructions—no help unless she requested it.

He asked, "So, you have a lot of success—with—with people Sara's age?"

Rhonda smiled, "We do. Sara is going to be fine—a year from now, this will be a dim memory." She massaged Sara's leg as she talked. "The compression boots will really help with strength."

Grissom pointed a finger at the pink water bottle, saying, "I'm sure you've heard about the water in rehab."

The therapist shook her head, a hint of a smile appearing, before saying, "Word travels fast—Gracie filled you in on the tainted water."

"And the young men who didn't make it out of rehab." Grissom's eyebrow raised in inquiry.

Rhonda had finished the massage of Sara's leg and slowly turned to the tablet used for charting. "That news travels too, I guess." Glancing at Sara before turning to Grissom, she said, "I know Sara's a crime investigator—so were you—we heard—before retirement. Several of us have talked about telling you—see what you think. It's been odd, that's for sure. No reason those guys should have died—they were all in good health—as good as one can be and be here."

For several long seconds, no one spoke; Rhonda's eyes seemed to go everywhere but to Grissom or Sara.

Finally, looking at Sara, ever so slightly, she shrugged. "We all know that something is happening—or maybe not." Sighing, she continued, "Believe me, we've all looked—all the therapists, the administrator, the director of nurses—quietly—if they really did die of something like heart attacks, which is possible—we don't want a news nightmare!"

Surprised at the turn of conversation, Sara asked, "What do you think happened? How long since you noticed the first one?"

Rhonda busied herself for several minutes with folding and smoothing a sheet over Sara's legs. She said, "I really shouldn't be talking like this—but maybe—what we need are fresh eyes. I—I can't give you details—like show you charts for these guys. That would really set off alarms, but I'd say at least ten months ago, maybe a year, since the first one died. He was young—early thirties, had a motorcycle accident. Supposed to be here three to four weeks and died several days before his scheduled discharge."

"Who profited from his death?" Grissom asked.

His question caused Rhonda to make a sad chuckle. "Ironic—no one. His parents lived in Oklahoma and had returned home—because he was doing so well. When he died, they had him cremated and shipped home. And at the time, we all thought it was so sad—never seeing their son again, but cremation was cheaper."

Contemplation in his voice, Grissom said, "We're already into violating a few health care regulations—do you think you could get a list of names?"

Rhonda's eyes widen. "I can—but if anyone finds out—well, you can imagine."

Assurance given that no one needed to know—at least not while Grissom did some basic gathering of information—and whatever he found would be given to her, Rhonda charted a few notes, and made two promises—the list of names and the remote-controlled wheelchair would be in Sara's room before noon. As the therapist left, Gracie returned from her morning activities.

Making a quick air-kiss in Grissom's direction, Sara let her head sink into the pillow. No privacy or intimate minutes with Gracie in the room, she had learned. Gracie wasn't clueless, but she certainly could be tactless when it came to privacy.

Grissom chuckled, leaned over and kissed Sara. He whispered, "More later."

Rolling her wheelchair to the foot of Sara's bed, excitement in her voice, the older woman went into great detail about her morning rehab and then a sing-along with a guitar playing visitor. "You should come! It's so much fun and we can always use another voice."

Sara wasn't going to attend a sing-along, but she agreed with Gracie that such an event had to be great entertainment. Then, she added, "My friends are bringing lunch for us. Would you join us? Outside—and it's vegetarian. I think you'll like it."

It took Gracie less than thirty seconds to agree. Sara quickly sent a message to Nick; she wanted her two friends to meet her roommate. She also knew if she shared lunch with Gracie, the added excitement would mean a new topic of conversation and, hopefully, a longer nap—and Sara had no intention of taking a nap while Grissom looked over the list of names.

She watched in amusement as Grissom talked with Gracie; she had been surprised when he had mentioned the water and then the young men. Even more startling was Rhonda's response—an admission of suspicions or fears. Sara's gut told her there was a something going on; perhaps not murder but something was happening to young men in rehab. She could see it in her husband's eyes as he had listened to Rhonda—he thought so too.

A/N: It's great fun and interesting to read your thoughts-do they have a crime? Is there a serial killer? So far, no one has guessed what caused the deaths-but now we have another person at the facility who is willing to talk! More to come...Thanks for reading! And reviews provide encouragement for more stories!