Missing

Chapter 4

The surface of the door was smooth under my knuckles. I remember thinking I should ask what grit sandpaper they'd used to sand it down, because really, it was very smooth. Knock and knock and knock again, I concentrated on the rhythm and-

The porch light came on, and the door creaked open. "Gil?"

"Hi."

"Gil, it's ten-thirty at night, what are you-"

"You didn't answer your phone."

Apparently Dr. Grant was one of those guys who went to bed pretty early.

I was not one of those guys.

He blinked at me blearily. "What's going on?"

"Sara's missing." And before he could ask, I added, "She's not in the shed."

"Gil, we've talked about this-"

"She's been gone for seven hours. She turned off her cell phone service and sent me this email." I handed him the print-out of the e-card and watched as he read over it slowly.

"Aluminum si. Safe word?"

"Yeah."

He sighed, rubbing his eye with the palm of one hand. "Sara is an adult, Gil. If she wants to leave-"

"Why, though? What's wrong with her? And why is she obsessed with this Tennyson poem?" I gave him a photocopy of the poem, complete with Sara's notes and scribbles. "Did she say anything to you about it?"

"You know I can't discuss what Sara said in our sessions."

"Something's wrong," I insisted, my mind racing. "She's in trouble."

"Look, I understand, Gil," he said, his eyes looking sad. "But I can't help you."

Dr. Grant was a tool. That much was clear, and I fumed silently on my drive back home.

"Okay, we've got an update from Warrick and Greg," Nick said, greeting me at the door. "They found the person who sold Sara the bus tickets."

"That's good, then, we-" I caught sight of the disappointed look on his face. "Did you say tickets?"

"Yeah, plural. She bought one-ways to," he checked his notepad, "Santa Fe, Phoenix, LA, San Francisco, Seattle, and Duluth."

"Duluth?"

"It's in Minnesota."

"I know where it is, I just. he's sure it was Sara?"

"Yeah, he's sure. Says she reminded him of his cousin, or something."

"Okay. Well, at least we'll know which credit card she's using, and be able to trace-"

"She paid cash for all of them," Nick interrupted. "Cath called earlier - apparently Sara emptied all her savings accounts two days ago. Closed her credit cards out, too."

In my mind's eye, I watched Sara slipping further and further away. "So we're screwed."

"Well..." He shifted uncomfortably. "There's a chance she emailed you back, right?"

"Right." My heart leapt, and I moved past him toward the study.

"Hey, um..." Nick followed behind me. "There's something else."

"Mm-hm." I nodded vaguely as I fell into my desk chair, switching the laptop on.

"Well, see, it's eleven."

"Yeah." Load faster, computer, come on.

"Shift starts in an hour."

"Oh. You need sleep? That's totally fine, Nick, I-"

"I'm being pulled off the case," he blurted out, looking miserable.

I didn't hear him at first, as my email window popped up. I held my breath. "Damn. Nothing."

"Grissom."

"What?"

"I'm being pulled off Sara's disappearance."

I turned to look at him angrily. "Why?"

"It's not just me." He shook his head. "Ecklie's pulling the others, too."

There was a paperweight sitting on the desk. It was purple with a white design, and it was Sara's. Surely, surely she wouldn't have left it if she weren't planning on coming back.

"Well, Catherine's off tonight. Maybe she'll-"

"Not anymore. Ecklie said as long as Sara's out and you're out, we're all reporting to work. Every night."

I glowered at the wall. "I'll talk to him."

"It's the twenty-first tomorrow, Grissom. You know what that means."

I swore softly. "Cop Chopper."

"Cop Chopper," he nodded. "Thing is, I know where Ecklie's coming from. As of last month, there's four Las Vegas policewomen dead, and they were all discovered on the twenty-first of the month. And Griss... Sara chose to leave."

"Fine, go," I told him dismissively. He'd done enough already, and really, it wasn't like Sara needed another goddamned cab.

"Grissom-"

"Go, Nick. I'll figure this out. The lab needs you now."

He nodded, slowly. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Yeah." I turned back to look at my email inbox. Completely empty, not even a penis-enlarging ad. I shut the laptop with a soft snap, listening to the front door open and close as Nick left.

Okay.

Lady of Shalott.

Okay.

I ran over the basics in my head. Lady sits up in a tower, watching Camelot through the reflection of a mirror. She knows if she looks at the scene directly, she'll die.

Bruno watched me pace from his dog bed in the corner. He looked hopeful at first, then thumped his head down with a sigh.

Okay, so Lady of Shalott. Weaves the stuff she sees in the mirror, gets tired of it, sees Sir Lancelot riding by. Turns around and looks at him. Mirror cracks, curse is fulfilled, she gets in a boat to float down the river and die.

Cheery stuff.

I moved into the living room, settling down in my easy chair with a sigh.

Lady of Shalott. I squinted, trying to focus.

Highlights: mirror, curse, Lancelot, death.

Sara?

The darkness of the room merged with the exhaustion of my mind, and I slipped into an uneasy sleep.

The shrill ring of the phone woke me. I stumbled over to it, grabbing it off the receiver. "Sara?"

"It's Jim Brass, Gil."

"Oh." I sat back in the chair heavily. "Hi."

"What, ah, what are you up to?" His voice sounded light, breezy.

Too breezy.

"Brass, what's going on?"

"We, um... we need you to come down to the station."

I rolled my eyes, annoyed. "Jim, you know I didn't have anything to do with Sara's disappearance."

"Look, just... just come down, and we'll-"

"If you need to interview me, just-"

"Gil, we found a body."

The breath left me. My heart stopped beating, and I observed dispassionately as, one by one, all my senses dulled. "Is it Sara?" I whispered.

"We don't know. If you-"

"How can you not know? You know Sara, you-"

"The Cop Chopper killed again." His voice sounded weak. "We found a torso in the bus terminal."

I swallowed, hard. "Sara's not a cop."

"The torso has an LVPD shirt on. Did Sara take hers?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

"Look, DNA testing will take weeks. If we want to get a jump on the guy, we need a positive ID. I know it's-"

"Yeah." There was a long brown hair on the arm of the easy chair. I picked it up, noting the skin tag. "Yeah, I'll come."