AN: Chapter four for you guys. We're focusing on the team's attempt to find Sara in this one, I hope you like it!
Thanks to WalkerTRngr for the beta help!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to CSI
Chapter 4
"Tell me we have something," Grissom says as he enters the AV lab.
Archie swivels his chair around, a notepad in hand. "I don't know if it's something, but we do have a few license plates that might be of interest."
"Have you traced them?"
Archie's raised eyebrows give him his answer. "No names that mean anything to me, but maybe they will to you."
Grissom accepts the notepad he holds out and scans the handful of names and addresses on the page. "No, none of these are familiar. Did you run them against cases Sara's worked?"
"Yeah, no obvious connections, as far as we can tell," Greg pipes in. "I mean, it's possible we can find something far-fetched if we dig deeper, but nothing on the surface."
"And these are all the cars that were in the area during the time in question?"
"Not all of them, no," Archie says. "Just the ones that stayed long enough to potentially have time to grab her, I eliminated the ones that just drove through. Obviously, not all intersections are covered by traffic cams, so there could be cars we've missed, but there's not much we can do about that."
Grissom nods thoughtfully, eyes still focused on the list.
"Anything from the property records?" Nick asks, changing the subject.
Grissom sighs. "No. I obviously can't see who owns a property within the area that the cell tower covers, but the only property registered to Lurie is the house in Summerlin."
"And he's not stupid enough to keep her there," Nick finishes. "Maybe a friend's place? Relative?"
"Both parents are deceased, but I still ran their names – nothing. No siblings, no other close relatives that I could find. If we can find someone at Desert Palm willing to talk to us, we can see who he might be close to, but I wouldn't bet on that."
Greg frowns at his words. "Hang on… did we check where the owners of those cars work?"
Archie lights up. "No, we did not." He snags the notepad out of Grissom's hand and swivels back around to his computer, tapping away at the keys for a moment. "And there we go – owner of a red 1999 Lexus ES300, Jason Hawthorne, gainfully employed by Desert Palm Hospital. And before you ask – no, the quality isn't good enough to see who's driving."
Grissom closes his mouth on the question he was about to ask.
"Well, both Lurie's cars were stolen during the home invasion," Nick reasons. "He would have needed to borrow one, or get a rental, and none of the cars in the area were rentals."
"You know, even if Hawthorne confirms he loaned Lurie the car, he'll just say he had some reason to be there," Greg says.
"Can we track the car through the city?" Grissom asks, moving next to Archie. "If we can prove that it followed the same route as Sara's phone, that might be enough to get a warrant."
Archie immediately pulls up a traffic cam on the screen in front of him. "When did the phone ping the tower in North Vegas?"
Nick flips through a few papers. "12:19 AM."
Archie fast forwards the video until the right time, then slows the speed enough they can see what cars pass by the camera, and they watch in silence for a while. When the clock reads 12:30, he pauses the video. "Nothing on this one, let me check the next…"
They go through the same routine with several more cameras, but the red Lexus is nowhere to be found.
"Doesn't mean anything," Nick says. "He probably knows the back streets, avoided the cams."
"We can't take that to a judge, though," Grissom retorts tiredly, running a hand over his face.
"I take it you have about as much as we do?"
He looks up at Catherine's voice to find her and Warrick in the doorway.
"No luck with the doc?" Greg asks.
"If by 'no luck' you mean 'we couldn't find him', then no," Warrick replies, leaning against the wall. "House was dark and there was no response when we rang the doorbell. I mean, I guess he could be a heavy sleeper, but… and we stopped by the hospital on the way back, he wasn't on shift either."
"He's probably holed up somewhere around Coyote Springs," Nick says grimly.
"He got any property out that way?" Catherine wonders, and Grissom shakes his head.
"Nothing registered in his name or his parents'. If I'd known you were going to the hospital, I would have had you try to figure out who he might be close enough to that they would let him use their house."
"And talk to Doctor Hawthorne," Greg pipes in.
"Hawthorne?" Catherine asks with a frown.
"Owner of one of the cars in the area around Sara's place," Archie supplies.
"And he doesn't live around there?"
Greg taps away at his keyboard for a moment. "Nope, he's out in Summerlin too, a couple of blocks from Lurie's place. Popular among the good doctors at Desert Palm."
Grissom checks his watch – almost three thirty. "Nick, you up for a trip over to Desert Palm?"
"Definitely."
-CSI-
They're in luck – Jason Hawthorne is working, and it's slow enough he agrees to take a break and talk to them.
"Yeah, I let Vincent borrow my car," he readily confirms. "Poor bastard had a break in while he was away on vacation, they really cleaned him out. Took both his cars, plus a lot of other stuff."
"We know," Nick replies. "How long has he had the car?"
The doctor frowns. "He picked it up on his way into work the morning after he got back."
"So, the car wasn't in your possession around midnight between Tuesday and Wednesday?" Grissom asks.
"No. Listen, what's this all about?"
"We're working a missing persons case," Nick says, keeping it vague. "Your car was caught on traffic cams in the area at the time."
"No, man, Vincent wouldn't kidnap someone!"
"How well do you know him?" Grissom questions, wondering if the man knows about Debbie Marlin and Michael Clark.
Hawthorne focuses on him for a moment, eyebrows drawing together. "I remember you. You investigated Debbie's death."
"That's right."
"Well, Vincent wasn't charged with anything, so he obviously didn't do it. Are you pissed you couldn't pin those murders on him, so now you're trying to get him for something else, or what's going on here?"
Before Grissom has a chance to react, Nick grabs the man by the collar on his lab coat. "Now, you listen here. Vincent Lurie wasn't charged with killing Debbie Marlin and Michael Clark because he covered his tracks, not because he didn't do it. Now, our friend – who just happens to be a dead ringer for Debbie – is missing, and your buddy spent hours the night before she disappeared basically undressing her with his eyes, and the car he's currently driving was seen a block from her apartment around the time she disappeared. So cut the crap, and tell us what you know about him, or you're going down for accessory to kidnapping and God knows what else he's done to her by now."
Hawthorne's eyes are wide by the time Nick releases him and takes a step back.
"Look, we're not close or anything," he says, a little shakily. "I mean, we go out for lunch sometimes, and we occasionally grab a bear after shift when we both get off work at the same time, but we don't… hang out. The only reason he called me to ask to borrow my car is that he knew I just bought a new one and haven't had time to sell the old one yet. As far as I know, he's a good guy."
"Do you know where he is tonight?" Grissom asks, and the doctor shakes his head.
"Not if he's not at home."
"We don't think so. He didn't open the door for our colleagues earlier, anyway. Do you know if he has any other property, aside from the house in Summerlin? A cabin outside the city, a family property, anything like that?"
Hawthorne frowns for a moment. "Nothing that he's mentioned to me."
"Does anyone else working here have a place they might let him use?"
"Well, Doctor Owens has a hunting cabin up on Mount Charleston, but that's the only one I know," Hawthorne replies. "I doubt he'd let Vincent use it on his own, though, he's always nagging us to keep the place spotless whenever we're up there, freaks out if you so much as put a beer can down without a coaster."
Grissom and Nick exchange a look – wrong area.
"Do you know when Lurie's on shift next?" Nick asks after a moment.
"Um, tomorrow, I think. Or today, I guess, it's already Thursday. He should be here at eight." Hawthorne looks between them. "Can I go now?"
"Just one more thing," Grissom says. "You said you and Doctor Lurie spend time together occasionally but you're not very close. Do you know who he is close to?"
Hawthorne's eyebrows draw together again as he thinks. "Not really. I know he and Tom – Walker – sometimes head up to Lake Mead to go out on Tom's boat, but I don't know if it's any more than that. And when we go out to grab a beer, there's usually a group of us, but I can't say he talks more to anyone in particular."
"Can you write down the names you can think of?" Grissom asks, holding out a notepad, and Hawthorne obliges.
"Anyone else working right now?" Nick wants to know when he's done.
"I think Tompkins and Gordon are working nights this week," Hawthorne offers. "If they aren't in surgery, you should be able to find them in the residents' lounge on the third floor."
"Thank you." Grissom offers his business card. "And if you think of anything, anything at all, please call."
They make their way back to the bank of elevators. "At least we've got confirmation Lurie's using the car on the surveillance footage," Nick notes with a sigh. "And I know, I know – it's not enough, but it's something."
Grissom just nods, leaning back heavily against the wall of the elevator as they descend through the hospital. A moment later, the doors open, and they make their way to the residents' lounge.
The room is almost deserted, its only occupant a middle-aged man with a Tupperware in front of him. He looks up when the door opens and frowns at them. "Are you lost? If you're looking for the family waiting room, take a left and then a right down the next hallway."
"We're not looking for the family waiting room," Grissom replies. "We're from the Las Vegas crime lab, are you Doctor Tompkins or Gordon?"
The frown deepens. "David Tompkins. What can I help you with?"
Nick pulls out a chair opposite the doctor and sits. "We understand you're friends with Vincent Lurie?"
"Friends? I don't know if I would go that far…" Tompkins objects. "I mean, we go out for drinks now and then, but never just the two of us."
"So, you wouldn't know if he has a second home, a cabin, something like that?" Grissom asks, leaning against the table next to Nick. "Or if he would have access to someone else's property?"
The other man shakes his head. "No, sorry."
They ask a few more questions, but gain less information than from Hawthorne. As they're wrapping things up, Doctor Gordon walks through the door, and the entire process is repeated once more, with the same results.
By the time they've exhausted all potential sources of information at the hospital, it's six thirty.
"Lurie should be here in an hour or so," Nick says, glancing at his watch when they reach the lobby. "You want to grab something to eat, wait for him?"
Grissom considers the suggestion for a moment – on the one hand, he knows he's not the best person for that particular conversation. He was able to keep his cool with Lurie once before, as much as that case rattled him, but now, with Sara's life on the line… he's not sure he'll have the same restraint. On the other hand, he doesn't trust anyone else to see through the man's façade.
"Are you going to be able to control yourself?" he retorts – considering Nick almost lost it with Hawthorne, he's far from convinced the younger man will be able to face Lurie without some sort of reaction.
"Yes," Nick immediately vows. "I have to. We can't mess this up, we've got to find her."
Grissom knows that he might regret it, but he agrees, and they find a diner a block away. Neither one of them eat much of the breakfast they order, and they're back at the hospital with fifteen minutes to spare before Lurie's supposed to go on shift.
The residents' lounge is busier now, most tables occupied by doctors eating, talking, or, in one case, trying to catch up on some sleep. Lurie is at a table in a corner, alone, with a paper in front of him and they make their way over.
"Doctor Lurie?" Grissom initiates, his voice coming out almost normal, surprising even himself.
The man looks up and frowns as he looks between them. "Mr. Stokes. And… I'm sorry, I don't actually remember your name."
"Gil Grissom."
"Right. Did you find my stolen property? You didn't have to come all the way down here, I could have stopped by the station," he says.
"That's not why we're here," Nick tells him, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "I understand you're using a car belonging to one of your colleagues, Jason Hawthorne, at the moment, is that right? A red Lexus."
Lurie nods slowly. "That's right… Why do you want to know?"
"And why was that car and, I assume, you in the area around Molasky Park between ten twenty and a quarter past midnight yesterday?"
The answer comes quickly. "I was at the gym."
Grissom raises an eyebrow. "In the middle of the night?"
"Look, I work long hours, nights, weekends… if I want to stay in shape, I have to take the workout time when I can get it. I had to run some errands after work on Tuesday, found myself in the area and decided to stop for some cardio."
"And can someone verify that?" Nick asks.
Lurie leans back in the chair and tilts his head to one side. "I didn't know I needed an alibi. I don't know, there were a few others there, but I didn't talk to anybody. I used my membership card to get in, though, I don't know if they log that…"
"What's the name of the gym?"
Lurie provides it. "So, what are you trying to pin on me this time?"
Nick opens his mouth, but Grissom places a hand on his shoulder, sensing an outburst. "We're not in the business of pinning crimes on anyone," he says, keeping his voice flat. "We're investigating a disappearance in the area around the time your car was seen there."
"Well, I don't know anything about that."
His eyes meet Grissom's, and in that moment, he knows, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Lurie has her. He also knows that the other man has connected the dots and figured out who he was talking about during his own little confession.
"I do hope you find her."
Nick glances up at Grissom. "I don't believe we said we were looking for a woman."
If he had been hoping to catch Lurie out, he's disappointed. The doctor simply shrugs. "I'm sorry, I assumed."
"Sure you did…" Nick drawls. "So, where did you spend the night?"
"What, last night?" At Grissom's nod, he continues. "I was at home."
"Then why didn't you open the door when our colleagues were there around one thirty?"
"I'm a heavy sleeper," Lurie says lightly. "Have to be, I need to be able to sleep when I have a chance. I'm sure you can relate to that."
Trying to throw the man off, Grissom changes topics abruptly. "Do you own any property aside from your house in Summerlin? A cabin, perhaps?"
The doctor frowns. "No, I don't."
"Have access to one?"
"Well, a colleague has a cabin on Mount Charleston," Lurie says slowly. "And an old college friend has a place on Lake Mead. I've spent some time in both, and I suppose they'd let me use them if I wanted to, but I wouldn't say I have easy access to either. Why?"
Grissom considers mentioning the area around Coyote Springs, but he doesn't want to give away too much – if Lurie knows they have an idea of where he's keeping Sara, he might move her, and that's the last thing they want. Let him think they've just figured out she's not at his house.
"No reason. Come on, Nick, I think we're done here. Thank you for your time, Doctor Lurie."
Nick looks like he wants to object, but he gets up and follows Grissom out of the room and out of the hospital. "We could have pushed him," he says when they're in the car heading back to the lab.
"I know, but we don't want him to panic," Grissom reasons. "If he does, he could move her, or…" He trails off, not able to finish the sentence, but the hard set of Nick's chin tells him that he picked up on the unspoken words.
"We agree that he did it, though, right?"
Grissom sighs. "There's no doubt in my mind."
When they get back to the lab, it's after nine, but even though the night shift ended over two hours ago, they find Catherine, Warrick, Greg, and Jim in Grissom's office.
"Took you long enough!" Catherine exclaims.
"Anything?" Greg asks anxiously, looking between them.
"We have confirmation that Lurie has been using the red Lexus since Tuesday morning," Nick reports. "Other than that, nothing."
"Nothing?" Warrick repeats.
"Lurie claims to not own any other property, says he was at home when you were there earlier and is just a heavy sleeper, and was supposedly at the gym during the time frame Sara disappeared," Grissom recaps. Checking his notes, he reads the name of the gym. "Look into that, would you, Catherine? He said there were a few people there, and there's some sort of entrance system, so there might be a log of his arrival."
"Do we have a warrant?" she shoots back, and he looks up at Jim.
"Sorry. I've talked to every judge I could wake up – nobody's willing to put out a warrant on anything without more to go on."
Grissom sighs. "Still – call the gym, ask them if they have a log, maybe surveillance. If they ask for a warrant, you'll have to admit we don't have one, but they might be willing to cooperate without it."
"Got it." She disappears out the door.
"What do you want the rest of us to do?" Warrick asks.
Grissom leans back in his chair and pinches the bridge of his nose. He can feel a migraine coming on, but he doesn't have time. "I don't know if there's much we can do right now," he admits. "Jim, I want a car on Lurie, we don't need a warrant for that. Maybe if we can place him in the area around Coyote Springs, that, in combination with Sara's cell phone's location, can give us probable cause."
"I'll make it happen."
He digs through one of his desk drawers until he finds a bottle of his migraine medicine and swallows two dry before refocusing on the three men still waiting for instructions.
"We need to do something, Griss," Nick says quietly, Greg nodding next to him.
"There's nothing to do right now," Grissom repeats tiredly. "Lurie's at work, I doubt he'll play hooky, he must know we'll be keeping an eye on him. We have no warrants, so we can't search his house or check his phone records."
"We could talk to his neighbors, find out if they saw him leave last night," Warrick suggests.
"And if they did, what would that prove?"
"That he lied!"
"So he'll come up with something else. Maybe he has a girlfriend who's married, and they spent the night together, but he didn't want to get her in trouble." Seeing their disappointed looks, Grissom sighs and continues. "I'm just playing devil's advocate here, but you get what I mean. The best thing you can do right now is go home and try to get some sleep. We need fresh eyes tonight, hopefully we'll have something to follow up on at that point."
Greg and Warrick exchange looks, both nodding before leaving the room. Nick lingers, though, frowning at Grissom. "So, you're heading home too?"
Grissom rubs his temples – he can feel the migraine building, but the medicine should kick in soon, and it always knocks him out for a few hours. There's no way he's leaving, though.
"I'll catch some sleep here," he says, nodding at the couch in the corner.
Nick sighs. "As long as you get some rest. Call if anything comes up."
"I will."
