Impact
Chapter 2
o-o-o-o-o
It's an hour after the end of shift, and Greg and Catherine are sitting in the break room, watching the clock. There's a sense of foreboding creeping around the edges of the doorway, but they're trying to convince themselves that they don't feel it.
"Maybe they stopped somewhere, to get something to eat," Greg muses, getting up to start another pot of coffee. "Maybe they worked through lunch and were hungry."
"No way," Catherine replies, shaking her head. "Can you really see Sara leaving evidence in the car again, after what happened last time? Besides, a meal doesn't take this long. I'm telling you, Greg, something's wrong. I think they're in trouble."
"Who's in trouble?"
They look up to see Nick striding into the room, crunching on an apple.
"Because," he continues after swallowing, "I can tell you that one Miss Sara Sidle is in some serious shit right now. Apparently, she was supposed to report to Ecklie's office after shift today for some meeting, and he's furious that she never showed up."
"Nick. they're still out at that DB in the desert," Catherine says with a frown.
"What?" Nick blinks in surprise. "But that was Detective Vega's case."
"So?"
"So. he met up with me five hours ago, at my scene over in Henderson. Said they'd wrapped up the other case in the desert by two. We should try their cell phones, see where they are."
"We've called them," Greg pipes up. "Neither one of them is answering."
Nick looks over at Catherine, whose expression is as concerned as his own. "They should be back by now."
"I know."
"Cath, we have to tell him."
"I know that too," she sighs, pulling out her phone. "I'll make the call."
o-o-o-o-o
He hasn't spoken since the crash.
He hasn't even moved.
I'm trying to rewind my brain, to figure out how this happened. I know we got lost on the way back from a crime scene, but at that point it becomes a blur. Can't decide whether we went off the edge of a cliff, or slid off the road on some loose gravel. we could have collided with another car, for all I know.
But I don't think that's the case. It's too quiet around us. Something tells me we're the only living things in the general vicinity.
My eyes travel back to his face, framed by bloodied, matted curls. I'm not one to pray, and yet I feel a silent plea forming on my lips. Begging for a word, a groan, a shift of shoulders. Hell, at this point I'd settle for seeing his chest move.
For all I know, he's already dead.
The thought makes my spine tense, and I grit my teeth at the pain. There's something broken in my back. I've given up on trying to reach my cell phone. I can't even reach my seat belt release. Any movement sends the waves of pain back.
But I've figured out a coping mechanism of sorts. When looking at his unmoving form becomes overwhelming, I try to shift to my side. It only takes an inch or so to do the trick. Sure, there's excruciating pain, but there's also an all-too-brief foray into unconsciousness, and the relief that accompanies the absence of worry.
o-o-o-o-o
"He's still in his office," Catherine says, closing her phone and tucking it into her purse. "Said he'd be down here in a minute."
Nick and Greg look up from the corner, where they've been talking quietly.
"What'd you tell him?" Nick asks warily.
"Just that we needed to see him. I think he was about to go home, he sounded kind of annoyed."
Greg scoffs. "What, like he's got something better to do? The day that guy develops a social life-"
"Enough," Catherine says sharply. "We're all on edge, so don't go taking it out on him. You know perfectly well, he'll be as concerned as the rest of us are."
Greg starts to reply, but closes his mouth abruptly as he catches sight of the man in the doorway.
"What's going on, guys?"
Biting her lip, Catherine looks over at him, her eyes dark with concern. "Grissom. Sara and Warrick are missing."