CHAPTER 7

See Part 1 for disclaimers

Previous parts may be found at fanfiction.net; grissomandsara.com/fanfic and my website: www.oocities.org/missyliannem/csi.html

A/N: This story was written very early Season 3. So any episodes after the first couple are irrelevant to how this story progresses.

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"Ever been here before?" Brass asked Nick as they moved through the milling foot traffic on The Strip in the midday heat.

"My paycheck's not quite in the market for Vincenetti's. You've been here?" Nick swivelled his head towards the older man, confused by Brass' question.

"My shoes don't speak imported handmade Italian leather? I'll have to get a raise." Brass grinned. He looked Nick up and down. "Only on business. Mattie'll like you."

"What?" Nick shook his head, wondering for a moment if they were on the same wavelength.

He followed Brass through the gilt-edged heavy, glass door. The interior was cool, a sharp contrast to the humid heat of Vegas. Highly polished wooden floors gleamed under intense spotlights. The smooth surface was reflected in the long mirrors placed at regular intervals around the room. Modern glass stands displayed impeccably crafted shoes of the finest quality imported leather.

"Detective Brass. To what do I owe this honour?" A young, immaculately dressed man glided effortlessly across the floor to greet them. His demeanour was friendly, yet his pale eyes conveyed a wariness of the police detective. "Obviously you haven't taken my advice to visit Maxwell's."

Brass shook his head and speared Mattie with a broad grin. "No. I didn't want to get charged with negligent homicide when the criminal content of the community caught sight of my new image."

"And who is this young man?" Mattie slowly savoured each word, allowing each to drop in a pool of desire. He let his eyes drift seductively over Nick's form.

Brass watched with a smirk on his face as Nick shifted uncomfortably under the intense scrutiny. He allowed himself a small amount of amusement at how Nick was handling the situation. It was Nick's harsh expression in his direction that prompted him to stop Mattie's inspection.

"Nick Stokes. He's with criminalistics. You remember Gil Grissom... Nick's one of his." Brass' tone gave weight to the simple words.

"Oh," Mattie mouthed, delicately. He flicked his head, his dark hair not yielding to the movement, the heavy hairspray holding it firmly in place. "Mr. Grissom. Such a nice man. Quiet, yet dignified. How is he?"

Nick was about to answer when he felt Brass lightly touch his arm, indicating silently with his eyes to just follow his lead.

"Could be better." Brass moved towards the cash register, forcing Mattie to follow him. Nick watched at a distance. "You may be able to help, Mattie."

"Me? A criminal investigation?" Mattie managed to project the right amount of astonishment, his voice rising dramatically. "Hardly. I'm a simple shoe salesman."

"You sell yourself short, Mattie. You have some very influential clientele." Brass lowered his voice as he spoke conspiratorially to the slimly built man. "We want to find one in particular."

"Tut, tut, Detective Brass," Mattie cooed. "You know that my records are protected by law. Client privacy and all that."

"Not with a Warrant." Nick held up the blue Court Order for Mattie's inspection.

"Oh, so he can talk." Mattie commented, walking over to take the Warrant. He allowed his fingers to slide seductively over Nick's as his almost translucent blue eyes looked deeply into chocolate brown ones. Nick pulled back quickly, breaking both the physical and visual contact."

"Show us your records," Brass said decisively.

"All right. If you insist." Mattie swept past Brass to the computer on the polished timber U shaped counter.

"No, don't ...." Nick started to say as he moved around to physically stop Mattie, but he was too late. Mattie had already executed a few sharp taps on the keyboard. Nick's hands stopped the movement. Mattie looked at Nick, his gaze cold.

Nick scanned the screen. "Brass, we're going to need Archie out here. I don't know if he's deleted anything and I'm not willing to change anything that could jeopardize Sara and Lindsey."

"Mattie, I want your full records." Brass loomed over the man, despite the two of them being the same height. "Do I need to remind you that I can always provide you with an all expenses paid one-way trip to an exclusive hotel for the night? The decor may not be your cup of tea, Mattie, but the friends that you'd meet.... well, they certainly like pretty boys like you."

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Light softly illuminated the office from the small lamp on the desk. Catherine sat hunched over the well worn surface. She gripped the ballpoint pen tightly in her fist as she raked her left hand through her limp hair. Taping the pen on the desk, Catherine narrowed her eyes as she scanned the list she had made.

Brass had suggested that she should try to remember any of Eddie's contacts. Anyone or any place which might provide them with a clue as to where he was. The sooner they could find him, the better... for both Lindsey and Sara.

She chewed on her lip, wishing she had paid more attention to his rambles about his contracts and latest women or friends.

"How's it going, Cath?"

Catherine let out a small scream and jumped at the voice close to her ear. "Warrick! Don't scare a woman to death."

"Sorry. I thought you'd heard me walk in and make my coffee," he said gently as he dropped his lanky frame into the seat beside her.

"Did you?" Catherine could smell the freshly brewed coffee now that he mentioned it. "Sorry, I wasn't concentrating on what was going on around me."

"How are you doing, Cath?"

"Truthfully. If Eddie walked in that door right now, I'd shoot him regardless of the consequences. But after I'd found out who he owed the money to and what he'd done with Sara. This list is out-dated. Since we split, I've ignored what he was doing. I didn't want it to impact on Lindsey and I certainly didn't need the added reminder of knowing what he'd done while we were married."

"Hey, Cath. It's not your fault."

"Are you sure? Sara wouldn't be in this mess if I hadn't pushed her into coming home with me."

"Sara's independent. If she truly didn't want to go, she would have avoided it."

"But that's not how people are going to see it. It's not how Sara's going to see it when she gets out of this. If she gets out of it...."

"Eddie won't hurt her, Cath," Warrick interrupted.

"I don't know about that Warrick. He was pissed off with her in the coffee room. Eddie can be dangerous when he's crossed. Sara did the unspeakable in his eyes, she made him unworthy as a man by bringing him down to his knees. He may have only slapped me around a bit, but do that to someone who's already injured..." Catherine tapered off, not willing to voice the possibilities that were running through her mind.

Warrick looked up at Catherine, surprised by her admission of the abuse by Eddie. He reached over and touched her arm. Her hand sought his as tears began to fall, her shoulders heaving as silent sobs shook her small body. Warrick put his arms around her shoulders and provided quiet solace. No words would be of any comfort. The stakes were too high and the odds of success were stacked against them.

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Greg pulled the sheet of paper from the machine, a smile of satisfaction slowly filling his face. "Maybe, just maybe," he muttered to himself. He pushed himself off his seat. It slowly rolled backwards as he moved quickly out the door.

"Hodges, you seen Grissom?" Greg had worked out Hodges' method for trying to climb the lab ladder was to keep in Grissom's good books. If Greg was in Grissom's shoes, he'd be concerned that Hodges seemed to be able to keep tabs on his whereabouts. Greg didn't like the man. His demeanour was like a wet blanket over the office and Greg tried to avoid him wherever possible. But he would use Hodges for information when it suited him.

"He's in his office."

Greg moved quickly through the CSI lab, studiously keeping his eyes on the paper in front of him. He ignored all the people he passed, their greetings unheard.

"Grissom. I've got it." He was puffed by the time he got to the office. "Or at least I think I've got it. Well, that's if CODIS' information is...."

"Greg, stop. What have you got?" Grissom silenced the young man with the heavily gelled hair.

"A match. The DNA from the cigarette butt matches to one Tony Petersen." Greg handed over the print-out from CODIS.

Grissom scanned the document before his eyes settled on the photograph in the corner. The black and white photo clearly displayed the man's heavy physique. Grissom shuddered to think that Sara had defended herself against him. It was no wonder that her blood was found on the scene. While having a lead to one of their perpetrators, it worried him about the injuries Sara had sustained at his hands.

"Great work, Greg," Grissom praised as he picked up the phone. It was the first good news they'd had in the investigation.

"What now?" Greg asked.

Grissom held up his hand to silence him. Greg slowly sank into the chair and sat quietly listening to the one-sided conversation. "Brass. I need to meet you at The Golden Egg." Grissom paused for a moment. "Yeah, the DNA on the cigarette butt matches Tony Petersen. We also need a warrant for his shoes."

"Can I come with you?" Greg asked as Grissom broke the connection.

"No. You're not used to being out in the field and you're too close to this case."

"What about you?"

Grissom eyed Greg thoughtfully.

"You're close to Sara," Greg argued, ignoring the flash of pain that passed over Grissom's face before being quashed. "You knew her before she came here. Isn't it hard for you?"

Grissom ran a finger over his mouth before replying. His answer was honest and direct. "Yes. Yes, it is. But I'm not going to leave Sara's fate in someone else's hands."

"I don't want to either."

"Greg, I have worked crime scenes all my adult life and dealt with criminals. You are only beginning to get out into the field. I don't want to jeopardize a chance to find Sara with an inappropriate move on your part. Investigators with more experience than you have made that mistake. Your presence at this stage could affect the case detrimentally."

Greg turned away from the older man to avoid him having to see the pain in his eyes. His shoulders slumped and he moved slowly towards the door.

"Greg." Grissom called out. He waited until the young man stopped. Greg half-turned to face him. "You've done excellent work for your first time out in the field. Remember though, first you must learn to crawl before you can walk."

"Thanks, Grissom." Greg gave him a half-hearted smile of thanks before returning to the security of his lab. He thought of the last time Sara had been here. He has teased her over the grapevine rumour of a boyfriend. Sara had expertly avoided his ploys to reveal information about her personal life other than to remind him that her private life was just that - private. He had also heard from Warrick that she denied that Hank was anything other than a friend. One thing he did know about Sara was that she told the truth. Greg hoped that they would find Sara in time. It was only with time that he could tell her that he appreciated having her as a friend.

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O'Reilly led a team police officers up the straight, concrete path to the white, brick house. His pudgy knuckles rapped against the lemon-coloured door, its aging paint flaking and begging for a new coat of colour. There was no answer. He knocked again, this time calling out for Eddie Willows to answer the door. Warrick and Toby Wright, a CSI from Ecklie's team that Grissom had requested assist the team on the case, hung back behind the officers.

Warrick let his gaze wander over the smaller man by his side. He had worked with Toby a couple of times when days had case overloads. During those times he had found Toby easy to work with and efficient.

"Okay, Warrick. The key," O'Reilly instructed.

Warrick moved forward and slipped the key Catherine had given him into the lock. He opened the door and allowed the police officers to go inside to clear the scene.

"It's all clear," O'Reilly called out.

"Our turn now, Tobe," Warrick said, throwing a grim smile towards the younger man.

Toby tightened his grip on the aluminium forensics case. He was nervous. It wasn't due to uncertainty in his abilities; he could do his job and do it well. It was caused by knowing that this was a case involving one of their own. Toby had seen Sara many times during her long hauls on the job. It had amazed him how she could continue to work relentlessly, sustained only by her caffeine addiction. He was witnessing her team do the same in their desperate search for her and Catherine's daughter.

"Where do you want to start?"

"We'll search each room together. Work opposite sides back towards the middle." Warrick took a quick overview of the room. "Nick'll be here soon to help. He was leaving the computer at Vincenetti's in Archie's hands before heading over here."

"This Eddie wasn't a tidy guy," Toby commented, running his flashlight over the corners of the room. CDs, papers and magazines filled every tabletop and many places on the floor. Only a small walkway was left in which to move around the room. It was dark; heavy curtains sealed off the brilliant sunshine outdoors.

Warrick turned on the light. They moved through the house, gaining an overall view of the secondary crime scene.

"We've got our work cut out for us," Warrick stated, turning off his flashlight with a snap. "We're looking for anything that might link Eddie to the kidnappers. Something that might give us a clue as to who Eddie owes the money to. But don't forget that we're looking for Eddie as well, where he might be holding Sara."

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Sara backed herself up against the door. She wrapped her bound hands firmly around the handle. The flashlight in Eddie's hands bobbed up and down with each step he took towards her, but the beam's focus never detoured from her.

She tried to slow her ragged breathing by counting backwards. The heated air whistled over her pursed lips. Her heart beat heavily in her chest. She closed her eyes to break the incessant light in her eyes. But only for a moment. She didn't trust the man coming up the stairs. He was only a couple of feet away from where she had planted herself.

"You don't know what you've brought down on yourself."

"I think I know, Eddie," Sara told him. Her voice was relatively calm, despite the ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach. "I've seen enough cases to know what happens when you really piss someone off. And many more cases where there was no reason whatsoever other than the person wanted to beat down on someone else."

Sara watched his hands warily. She was sure that he would knock her unconscious after her latest attack. An important factor in self-defense is to be fully aware of your attacker and counteract the assault. Sara hoped that she would be able to see where the attack was coming from. The flashlight in her eyes only gave her a silhouette of Eddie.

It was the sudden movement of the flashlight that gave her warning of his intent. Sara ducked. It missed her skull and connected with her shoulder. She grimaced, but didn't allow it to distract her. Quickly calculating the distance, she put all the power behind her leg and lashed out. Her leg connected squarely with Eddie's midriff. The beam of light spun wildly around the room as Eddie's arms flailed to find something for support. There was nothing.

Sara witnessed the fall by the dance of the flashlight and the grunts made on each connection with the stairs. The beam of light cut out suddenly. She heard several more thumps before a sickening crunch. Adrenaline dipped suddenly and Sara felt herself losing distance with reality. She slowly slid down to the cold concrete stair, her back firmly pressed against the solid door. Her head was still spinning and she let it fall forward onto her bent knees. In the distance, she heard a car start and take off, spinning its tires with a squeal. Reality began to set in and her shoulders shook as she gave in to the fear that had held her in its grip for so long.

End Chapter 7/?

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