Open Road

Chapter 1

The new sheriff had earned a quick reputation for loving the rules. Anything typed out in a thick bound LVPD volume earned the instant approval of Sheriff William Watson. He was signing forms with enthusiasm when the timid knock sounded at his door.

"Ah, Dr. Grissom, Ms. Sidle, please come in."

They entered nervously, taking a seat across from Sheriff Watson.

"Sir," Grissom began, "I wasn't informed as to what this meeting-"

"Workaholics," the sheriff interrupted. "Both of you. Sidle, you have over twelve weeks of unused vacation time on the books. Grissom, you've got twenty."

Grissom blinked. This wasn't what he'd expected. "Well, sir, the position requires a certain. dedication. We're both very devoted to our jobs."

Watson nodded, his eyes narrowing. "I'm devoted to the law, Dr. Grissom. And you know what the law says?" He pointed to one of the many binders on his desk. "It says that the Las Vegas Police Department is committing a criminal act by having two crime scene investigators who don't take vacation time."

"I'm not sure that's true," Grissom protested.

"Oh, I assure you, it is. Like it or not, as a government employee in the state of Nevada, you're required to have a certain amount of time off. Your colleagues don't seem to have a problem with that rule. Catherine Willows has already maxed out for the year. Do you realize that your combined vacation days used over the past five years is seven?"

Sara stared at her lap. It was embarrassing, getting reprimanded by the sheriff for not having a life.

"Okay," Grissom said in a placating tone. "We'll both make an effort to use more of our vacation days in the next year."

"Not good enough," Watson barked, pulling out some forms. "You're both out for the next month."

"What?" Sara sat forward. "An entire month?"

"I should make it two or three," the sheriff said, peering at her over his glasses.

Grissom shook his head. "We're both on the night shift, sir. That would mean that Greg Sanders and Sofia Curtis would have to work every night for four weeks. What if they get sick?"

"Brent Luchesi from days is switching shifts for a month. It won't be a problem." Watson extended two forms and a pen. "Sign at the bottom."

They both hesitated.

"This isn't optional," he said firmly.

Grissom finally picked up the pen and signed his form. Sara followed suit, looking lost.

"Good," Watson said. "Your leave starts right now. Enjoy your vacation."

Three hours later, Sheriff Watson was walking past the fingerprinting lab when he stopped short. "Grissom, Sidle, get out here."

They looked up from the microscope guiltily, and stepped into the hallway.

"Did you think I was kidding?"

"We were just finishing up a case," Sara ventured.

"Out. Now."

They glanced at each other and peeled off their lab coats reluctantly, making their way to the locker room.

Two days later, the sheriff couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He paced through the crime lab hallways, stopping outside the trace room. Greg Sanders was in there, swabbing some clothing on the long table.

"Sanders," Watson called sharply. "Where are Curtis and Luchesi?"

"They're on other cases," Greg answered.

Something was definitely off. The young CSI was practically twitching with nervousness. Sheriff Watson eyed him suspiciously.

"You better not have Grissom or Sara in that closet."

Greg let out a high-pitch laugh. Watson marched over to the closet and threw open the door.

"See? Nobody in there."

Watson folded his arms, staring at him. Greg maintained eye contact for several seconds. Then his eyes darted downward for a split second.

"You've got to be kidding me." Watson leaned down, looking under the table. "This is a new low, Grissom."

Grissom and Sara crawled out from under the table. "Sir, we're not logging the time," Grissom protested. "If this is how we choose to spend our vacation-"

"Handling evidence?" The sheriff was shaking with anger. "And what happens in court, then? What if you get called to testify about some key piece of evidence, and the defense points out that according to LVPD records, you were out on vacation during the same time that you were claiming to have been processing the evidence? Entire cases have been thrown out for less."

"But-"

"Let me be very clear on this. If I see either of you in the lab in the next month, you're both fired. And, since you've been working the past two days, the month starts now."

They sat in the diner, stunned.

"Four weeks," Grissom whispered. "What the hell are we supposed to do for four weeks?"

Sara didn't answer. She was looking out the window at the cars zooming down the highway.

"I guess I could consult on some cases in other districts," he mused. "Or take some CE classes."

The waitress brought their food, but neither made a move to eat.

"I can't even visit my mother," he groaned. "She's out of the country. God. Four weeks. There's got to be a way around this rule. I'll call my lawyer, see what he says."

"I think I'm going to go away."

"What?" He stared at her. "Where?"

She finally turned back to him, her face strangely serene. "I want to take a road trip." She nodded decisively, then started to eat her sandwich.

"A road trip?"

"We used to take them in college all the time. I'd grown up in California, where traveling to the next state takes a day. But on the east coast, we could hit five states in a few hours. We'd pile into my friend's old van and just drive."

She gestured to his untouched burger, and he picked it up, still in a daze.

"But where would you go?"

"Anywhere," she smiled. "That's the whole appeal. You take whichever road sounds interesting. Stop for gas, food, and sleep. No boundaries, no limits." Her eyes were soft, dreamy. She could already feel the wind in her hair, the firm pressure of her foot on the pedal, the vibration of the rolling wheels.

He chewed on his burger slowly, horror creeping up his spine. His colleagues were all working cases, and he wasn't allowed to. It was his purpose in life - solving puzzles, fighting crime. What was he without his job?

And now Sara was leaving him?

"It's not safe," he objected. "In college you were traveling with a group. A single woman out on the road, with no one at home to know where she is. it's not safe in today's world. You of all people should know that."

She waved in dismissal. "I'll be fine. I can handle myself."

"You shouldn't go alone," he insisted. "You should have someone with you."

"Yeah, okay, you happen to know anyone who can just take a month off and-" She froze, finally realizing what he meant.

"Yeah, I know someone like that."

A road trip. With Grissom. Alone in a personal setting. It was a terrible idea. He could hurt her. He could be emotionally distant and make the trip unbearable.

"You're serious?"

"If you're set on this road trip idea, then yes, I'm serious." His pulse was pounding. A month in a car with Sara. Stuck in a confined space with her insistent questions, her quick temper, her long legs.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning," she said, her eyes flashing with a silent challenge.

He swallowed. Four weeks?

"I'll be there."