Chapter 28

Karson rubbed a weary hand across his face as he stared at the crime scene photos and evidence he'd gathered from the warehouse where Grissom had been held. As a seasoned CSI, he'd seen what the deprived nature of what men could do to other men. But that realization had hit him differently this time because he knew the victim. And no one deserved to go through what Gil Grissom had endured.

Once the warehouse was identified, Karson immediately decided he wanted to be on the scene as soon as possible and be the only CSI to process the warehouse, if it was indeed were Grissom was held. When he got to the scene, police had yet to enter the warehouse, even though they had been on the scene for at least half an hour. They wanted to wait for SWAT to join the officers on scene to make an entrance.

When the authorities finally did enter, they had the place cleared in 90 seconds, leading Karson to receive the get-go to enter. He saw Grissom before anyone had attended to him, and at first sight, he'd assumed Grissom had died from his injuries. He had looked swollen, bloodied and bruised, the large shirt splattered with blood. His unconscious body was lain beside another body, clearly deceased courtesy of the large bullet hole in his head.

"That one's dead, this one's alive," a SWAT member told Karson. At the moment of seeing Grissom on the floor, Karson thought of Sara and Daniel. No doubt, they would feel his loss most keenly. Realizing Grissom was still alive had been an unexpected, but pleasant surprise. The man was a fighter, that was for sure. And he had plenty to fight for.

Karson uttered a tired sigh, and moved his shoulders to try and relieve the deep ache that had settled there. He'd been working on this for four days, and his eyes were starting to blur. The idea of taking a break – even for just few minutes - was a welcome one.

He'd just entered his office, with a cup of coffee and a sandwich from the vending machine, when his cell phone buzzed. A quite groan escaped his throat as Karson settled back into his chair and closed his eyes. What could Ladd Sayers want with him?

"You were supposed to update me, three hours ago, Hess!" Sayers barked without preamble, as Karson connected the call. "What's the hold up? You've had plenty of time, to find evidence of Grissom's guilt on this breakout."

Karson shook his head, despite the fact that the DA couldn't see it. "It dosent work like that, Sayers..."

"Bullshit!" Sayers' voice exploded in his ear, making him wince and hold the phone a little away from his ear. "It's obvious that he's behind this break out, and he had help. I find it too convenient for Grissom that Hobson is missing. I wouldn't be surprised if he's killed him too. Tie up some loose ends, to prevent him from talking. Grissom is guilty, and CSI is not going to protect him. Thanks to his new attorney, Carrigan has allowed Grissom home to recover from his so-called kidnapping. He has three weeks and then he's back to prison. I want you to find evidence of his guilt, in one week."

Before Karson could even reply, Sayers had hung up. He frowned at the phone for a moment, his mind flashing back to the photos of Grissom's injuries. There was no way they could be attributed to a bus accident alone.

His frown deepened, recalling something Sara had said, when she and Jacobsen had brought the GPS tracker information on Hobson's car. That she believed that Grissom was bring framed for murder. She'd been upset – in hindsight she'd had good cause – but his first impulse had been to put it down to a wife standing by her husband. But this was Sara, and he'd learned first hand that when Sara Sidle set her mind to something, there was no changing it. And if the rumors were true, even Grissom hadn't always been successful in reigning in that Sidle determination.

Sara had always insisted that Grissom was innocent. And until the break out, he'd believed it himself. Witnessing Grissom's injuries first hand, he's viewpoint had rapidly shifted. The paraphernalia of torture and the bloody shackles, and the blood spatter surrounding the area, had only cemented that belief. Sayers' phone call pushing for Grissom's guilt, Karen's forgetfulness in noting down Fromansky as a source, and his later turning up dead, Hobson's untimely vanishing act, not to mention Rory Dunbar's escape. A man, who had a big axe to grind, and was all to willing to bury it deep in Grissom's back. Separately, they didn't mean much. But put them all together….Karson's eyes widened with clarity, the bigger picture coming together, as he realised just how much was stacked against Grissom.

He rose to his feet, quickly, and headed back to the evidence locker, before heading back to the lay out room. There was a renewed determination in his movements as he spread out the photos from the warehouse.

Karson was startled out of his deep study of the photos by the quiet tap on the layout room door frame. He looked up to find Nick Stokes standing in the doorway.

"Thinks for stopping by, Nick," Kason acknowledged as Nick approached the supervisor.

"Catherine, said you wanted to see me, once shift ended. These are from the warehouse?" he asked, his eyes drifting from the photos to Karson.

"Yeah," Karson nodded. "These don't do justice to what he went through," he added gesturing to the other photos.

Nick picked the closest photo to him up, and studied it intensely. It was a photo of Grissom's back, showing the bloody and weeping welts of the whip marks that criss-crossed his back. Nick swallowed, his eyes drifting to other photos of its ilk. Grissom's bruised and battered face, the red burn marks that dotted is torso and the deep black bruising that coloured his ribs and stomach.

Karson watched him carefully as Nick swallowed once more as he picked up a photo baring the severe abrasions on his wrists. The skin inflamed and bleeding. Nick's face drained of colour, but was unable to tear his eyes away from the pictured suffering his former boss had endured. No man deserved this, no matter what they had done.

Karson placed a supportive hand on Nick's shoulder, and he blinked rapidly, unwilling to let his emotions to get the better of him. Whatever had happened on that Transport, Grissom clearly had had no part in it.

"I understand that this is a tough one for you, Nick," Karson said, his voice low. "But I wanted to ask your opinion on a few points. Shit has blown up in my face over this, and that's why I investigated the warehouse myself." Karson sighed and ran a hand over his weary face, taking the chance to best formulate his question.

Folding his arms across his chest, he looked directly at Nick. "This is strictly off the record; I'm just curious to know that when you were working the Sullivan case, if at any point you felt pressured to find evidence of Grissom's guilt?"

Nick smiled uneasily, not quite sure of how to answer the question. Karson picked up on his hesitancy.

"Look, Nick, there is no right or wrong answer here," Karson responded, with urgency. "Forget that I'm a superior for a second. We're just having a chat."

Nick cast his eyes quickly over the photos and the evidence on the table, slowly joining the pieces together. "Yeah, I did," he finally admitted. "I didn't believe at first that Grissom could do something like this, but the deeper I looked into the evidence, the more it looked like he was guilty. When the investigation ran into a dead end, the D.A continued to push for proof positive that Grissom did this."

"I thought so," Karson's voice was low. "He called me a couple of minutes ago, demanding among other things that I find the proof to condemn Grissom. He's adamant that Grissom is behind this jail break, even that he's somehow responsible for this Nash fella going missing."

"That's ridiculous!" Nick expostulated. "There's no evidence that Hobson is dead, and even if that were the case," Nick jabbed a hand in the general direction of the evidence. "Going by these photos, Grissom was already being beaten in the warehouse. There is no way, the D.A can pin anything related to Hobson, on Grissom."

Karson smiled approvingly. "I agree. It appears that Sayers has a personal vendetta against Grissom." Karson bit his bottom lip, mulling over the possibilities. "You know, a personal vendetta seems to be a running theme through this entire case," Karson mused aloud. "Rory Dunbar and David Fromansky, both had a grudge against Grissom. They're both involved in this one way or another, and they both had connections to PD and prison. It's safe to say, that Rory definitely wasn't working alone. He had to have had help."

"If that's the case, then that means Rory's connections are still intact. That there are still people within in the department, and possibly outside too, that are willing to do his dirty work for him." Nick faced the other man, his eyes widening as he connected the dots. "He's not finished with what he started with Grissom and Sara last year. And he's not going to stop until he's completely destroyed him." Nick shook his head in dismay, as he bit his lip.

"Dammit! I'm such an idiot!" Nick exploded suddenly, slamming his hand hard against the lay out table. "Sara was right! Grissom didn't murder Jake. Rory's setting him up for murder."

Karson nodded in approval. "Want to help me prove it? I can square it with Catherine. Technically, this is connected to the Sullivan case. Right now, I'm not sure I can trust anyone but you."