<><><><><>

Okay, someone queried the origins of my English... I'm
confusing them with the fact my English is using British English
but my quotation marks usage is American.  I'm Australian and
we have no strict rule either way.  Yes, I use British English for
spelling, but that's just showing my age :) These days, you can
get either from us Aussies. 

Part 4/?

Warrick waited down the hallway for Grissom to finish talking
with Catherine.  Leaning against the wall, he thought about the
last few days.  The balance that normally existed in the team on
the graveyard shift was off.  It all seemed to stem from the
recent Adler case that Grissom, Nick and Sara had
investigated.  Nick had mentioned how Sara had become
personally attached to the victim, referring to her as 'Jane'. 
Ever since the investigation was completed, Sara had been
unusually quiet, her exuberance for the job quelled.   

It confused him that she was still maxing out on overtime.  Her
thoroughness for detail was still exemplary. Yet the spark that
lit her eye at the discovery of a piece of evidence, however
minute, that would solve a crime had gone.  Warrick even
missed those little annoying habits that she had and  her off the
cuff remarks.  

Hearing the familiar footsteps of Grissom coming down the
hallway, he pushed off the wall, falling into step beside his
boss.

"Hey, Gris.  Can I talk with you?"

Grissom looked across at Warrick, a slight inclination of his
head indicating for the young CSI to proceed with whatever he
wished to discuss.

"Ah, somewhere private?"Warrick added tentatively.

They moved through to Grissom's office in silence.  Entering the
office, Grissom dropped the file he was carrying on the desk
and leaned against it. Warrick closed the door to provide them
with some privacy.  

"What's the problem?"  Grissom prompted.

"It's not a problem per se.  It's about Sara."

"What about Sara?"Grissom asked, quelling the disturbing
nervousness he felt as soon as Warrick mentioned her name. 
Only moments before Catherine had been on his case about
her and now Warrick.  He wished that he could just bury
himself in his lab and run several trials at once.  At least he'd
be able to keep better track of them than he seemed able to
do with one particular CSI, who seemed to be the subject
of everyone's concern.    

"Something's not right.  You know how you said she didn't
answer her page." 

Grissom nodded.

"There was a reason.  It was switched off." Warrick, normally
confident in his discussions with Grissom, found this one
unnerving.  His nervousness showed, his hands alternately
crossing in front of him to dropping by his side and back again.

Grissom absorbed this fact, now understanding why she hadn't
returned his call.  That had concerned him greatly and for a
moment he was relieved.  But his relief was short-
lived as he wondered why she had not switched it back on.  

"Gris, when would Sara switch off her pager?  She's the
ultimate workaholic in this lab beside you.  There hasn't been a
day in over a month when she hasn't worked and the first
break she had, we hauled her back in on the Portia Richmond
case."

"I agree she needs to take some more time away from the
lab."

"That's not what I'm meaning, Gris." Warrick walked over to
lean against the desk beside Grissom.  "To take Sara away
from her work would be like taking away part of her soul. 
Something's bothering her and it's changing her.  She's not
talking like she usually does.  She's just not being 'Sara', if you
know what I mean."

Grissom nodded, accepting both Warrick assessment of the
change in Sara and also Catherine's warning.  Both of them
were good judges of character, much better at it than he was. 
He wasn't going to ignore their advice and risk losing one very
good CSI because he wasn't willing to take action.  "Would
you start work on the 419 with Nick?  Sara will work with me." 

"Sure thing.  Nick'll be happy."

"It's not being done for Nick's comfort."

"I'm glad."  Warrick pushed away from the desk, heading for
the door.  

"Warrick," Grissom called after him.  Warrick paused at the
door, his hand resting on the handle.  "Give me a call once
you've finished at the crime scene.  I may need you as well on
this one."          

"Sure thing."  

               <><><><><>

Grissom checked through his aluminum field kit.  He never
went out to a crime scene without ensuring that every possible
piece of equipment was there and in working order.  It was a
habit that also gave him a chance to try and work out what he
was going to say to Sara.  

"I heard you're taking Sara with you."  

Grissom looked up at Catherine.  "What is this place? Gossip
Central?"

"Well some of us like to be kept informed. Especially when we
are concerned," Catherine replied tartly.

Grissom gave her a quizzical look.  He gave up on trying to
understand the human psyche.  It was much easier to deal with
the physical evidence of a crime than the changing tide of
human emotion.  "When you've finished with the 428, we'll
probably need a hand with this one."

"How many?"

"Four.  Father and three kids."

               <><><><><>

It was easy to find the house that was the subject of the
murder-suicide.  Police cars cordoned off the street.  A patrol
officer waved the black Chevy Tahoe, its lights flashing,
through to the scene of the crime.  Black and yellow crime
scene tape separated the double storey weatherboard house
from the others in the street.  Long grass bent over under the
onslaught of un-seasonal rainfall.  The garden beds were a
mixture of plant and weed.  Even in the rain, onlookers littered
the sidewalk, cowering beneath a sea of umbrellas.  Curiosity
combined with shock were mirrored in their faces at the
rumoured nature of the crime.  

Grissom looked across at Sara as she parked the Tahoe.  She
had been silent on the drive over to the crime scene, none of
the usual effervescent enthusiasm for the investigation evident. 
Her hair hung in damp curls around her face.  Eyes glazed with
tiredness were surveying the crime scene.  Noting the dark hue
of blue under her eyes, fatigue seemed to scream at him from
her very core.  

Used to her unusual sleeping habits, her quest for another
challenge insatiable, Grissom had allowed Sara to make the
maximum use of her overtime.  It benefitted not only the CSI
lab when they were short-handed, but also kept her active
mind occupied.  Looking across at her now, and with the
telephone call from Tom Adler playing on his mind,  he wasn't
so sure.  Maybe he did need to watch her a little more closely,
curb her habit for excessive overtime and enforce a break from
their psychologically demanding job.  

Following Cath's advice and taking Sara under his proverbial
wing, Grissom had been relying on Sara to ask about his page. 
Yet Sara hadn't uttered a single word other than an off-hand
greeting.  Not a word; not even a question about the missing
page.  Consequently, he had found it impossible to begin
speaking to her at all during their time together in the SUV
without making the next few hours an awkward investigation. 
Grissom needed her focused on the work at hand, not dwelling
on an exchange that benefitted no one at this time.  

Brass came up to the Tahoe, breaking Grissom's deep
thoughts..  "Here's what I have so far.  Teenage boyfriend of
the eldest daughter came to pick her up for a junior high
dance.  No one answered the door.  He went out back and
found the son lying dead on the porch.  He then called the
police on his cell phone."

"He didn't enter the house?" 

"No. He was adamant about that."  Brass nodded towards the
teenager standing between two officers, nervously switching
feet as he looked on at the scene unfolding before him.  "First
officers on the scene found husband dead in the study, a 9mm
semi-automatic pistol by his side.  Two daughters, both killed
in an upstairs bedroom, gunshot wounds to the head.  Son was
killed out on the porch.  Three shots to the torso.  Looks like
he was trying to escape."

Brass leaned down to glance into the Tahoe. "It's only the two
of you?"

"For now," Grissom replied.  "Catherine will be over once
she's finished with a 428."

"Any note?" Sara asked.

"No.  Not that we've found on a cursory check.  Naturally,
we've been waiting for you guys and the Coroner to arrive."

"Brass, are your men taking photographs of the crowd?"

"What for?  It's a murder-suicide."

Grissom gave him a pointed look.  "Apparent murder-suicide."

"Yeah.  Right," Brass acknowledged grudgingly, feeling it was
a waste of resources.  He'd been inside the house.  It was
obviously a murder-suicide.  It had the hallmark signatures of
such a crime.  

"Sara.  You ready?"

She nodded and hopped out of the vehicle.  Opening the rear
hatch, Grissom and Sara donned blue  coveralls with
'Forensics' stencilled on the back.   They slipped booties over
their shoes to prevent contamination of the crime scene. 
Taking their field kits, they proceeded to begin their
investigation, which had begun the moment they arrived.  Both
Grissom and Sara had been visually casing the scene,
observing the onlookers and other details that the casual
viewer might consider inconsequential. 

End Part 4/?

    Source: geocities.com/missyliannem