Sources

Chapter 14

Grissom jumped into the driver's seat of his Denali, with Warrick right beside him.

"Greg, what'd you get?" Warrick said into his cell phone. "Okay, give me the address." He jotted something down on his hand. "Thanks, Greg. I'll tell him."

"What's going on?" Grissom demanded as they sped out of the McCarran Airport parking garage.

"Bobby Russo shared a cell for six years with a guy named Tiny, who now lives in Vegas off Route 604. We can be there in fifteen minutes."

Grissom drove faster.

"Greg and Cath are staying at the lab in case any other cases come in. Brass is getting a warrant to search Tiny's place. He wants us to wait for him to get there before we make a move."

"Yeah, that'll happen. You armed?"

Warrick nodded. "Let's go get her."

Sara heard the bolt on the door slide open. This is it, Sidle. Don't chicken out now. As the doorknob turned slowly, Sara darted from across the room, throwing herself against the door. She heard a muffled thump as it made contact with someone on the other side. She came out of the room with her fists raised, then froze in shock.

A short, burly man was writhing on the ground, clutching his bloody face. "She broke my nose, goddamn it!" he yelled.

Bobby sat on the far side of the room, snickering as he kept his gun trained on Sara. "Sara Sidle, meet Tiny Jenkins. Tiny," he said, his eyes growing dark, "this is my Sara."

She walked into the room, keeping a wary eye on both Tiny and the gun. "He should really get some ice on that," she said evenly.

Bobby gave a mirthless grin. "Tiny, I'm going to need you to keep watch outside. Sara and I don't want any. interruptions." He let his eyes wander over Sara's body, as she fought the urge to spit at him.

Tiny stood up, wiping his face and nodding. He grabbed his gun from next to Bobby, and walked out the front door.

"Don't worry about him," Bobby said smoothly as he stood and walked toward her. "His nose gets broken all the time. He's used to it by now."

She stood still. "Oh, because I was worried."

He put the barrel of the gun against her head, and she closed her eyes as he leaned forward and trailed his tongue up her cheek. "I almost forgot how you taste, Sara."

Swallowing the bile that was rising in her throat, she opened her eyes. "Where's the bedroom?" He motioned to a doorway, and she walked through it slowly, taking inventory of what in the room she could use as a weapon. Other than the pillows on the bed, there was nothing.

"Lie down," he ordered, keeping his gun pointed at her.

Take the gun out of the equation, she told herself. "Can you please put the gun away?" she begged. "You're obviously more than strong enough to keep me in check without it. Please? I don't like guns."

He glanced down at his heavily muscled frame and smirked. "You have a point there," he said, putting the gun on the table next to the doorway. He walked toward her, and she remembered the way he'd stalk into her room when she was a child, circling her bed like a predator.

"Take off your shirt," he told her hungrily.

Sara forced a coquettish expression on her face as she scooted back toward the headboard, her knees drawn up to her chest. "Don't you want to rip it off of me?"

A low growl rose in his throat, and he crawled onto the bed. As he approached, she drew her knees in closer, then kicked them out as hard as she could, hitting him in the throat. He clutched at his neck in agony. Seeing her opportunity, she jumped off the bed, ran over to the doorway, and grabbed his gun off the table.

He stood and sneered at her, still rubbing his neck. "You think I'm scared? You don't know how to use that gun."

She clicked off the safety, maintaining her perfect aim. "I'm not thirteen anymore, Bobby," she whispered. "You have no idea what I've become. Put your hands up."

A small crack of fear broke through Bobby's façade, and he obliged. Sara backed into the living room, motioning for him to follow her. He glared at her as he stepped into the room.

"What are you gonna do, shoot me?"

"If it comes to that," she said calmly. "Get down on the floor." She glanced over to the couch and saw a portable phone lying on it. Walking over and grabbing it, she kept an eye on Bobby while she dialed Grissom's cell.

A familiar ring broke the silence, and her brows furrowed. It was coming from outside. Suddenly, Grissom and Warrick burst through the front door, their guns raised. "Nobody move!" yelled Warrick, while Grissom shouted for Sara. When they realized the scene in front of them, both of their jaws dropped.

Sara gave a crooked smile. "Hey, guys. I take it you took care of Tiny?"

Warrick smiled at her in relief and nodded. "And I even have enough duct tape left for this one," he said, walking over to a subdued Bobby and taping him up securely.

Once she saw that Bobby was no longer a threat, Sara lowered her gun and sighed, turning to look at Grissom. He was standing very still, his eyes fixed on her, and she was surprised to see that he was crying. Grissom cries?

"Grissom?" she said with uncertainty. In two long strides he bridged the gap between them and enveloped her in a tight hug. She hugged him back awkwardly. Grissom cries over me?

He pulled away to look at her face, making sure she was really there. "Sara," he said reverently, then hugged her again. "I was so scared, Sara," he whispered. "I thought I'd lost you."

She smiled into his shoulder. "Can't get rid of me that easy, Griss." The events of the last 24 hours caught up with her, and Sara felt herself starting to cry too. They stood, holding each other and weeping openly, until they heard police cars pull up outside.

"Here comes the cavalry," Warrick said. Jim Brass walked in first, glaring at Grissom and Warrick while he made sure Sara was okay. Noticing Bobby, he told Warrick to remove the tape from the ex-con's legs so they could book him.

Once his legs were freed, Bobby stood up and looked toward the back exit, clearly considering whether to run. Brass pointed his gun at Bobby's forehead. "You have no idea how much I want to pull this trigger," Brass whispered. "Just give me a reason." Bobby's eyes widened, and he surrendered fully.

Grissom and Sara sat outside on the front steps, watching Bobby and Tiny being loaded into police cars. Once they were out of sight, Sara relaxed fully, leaning back into the arm that Grissom had wrapped tightly around her.

"Where's everyone else?" she asked.

"Cath and Greg are at the lab covering for us. Nicky's at your apartment. We didn't know if Mandy was in danger, so he stayed there with her." Grissom watched her as he spoke. He couldn't keep his eyes off her. Or his arm, for that matter.

Sara gasped. "Mandy! I've got to call her, she must be so worried."

"Warrick called Nick, they know you're okay," Grissom said gently. "Before you talk to Mandy, there's someone who needs to hear your voice even more."

She looked at him with questioning eyes as he punched a number into his cell phone and handed it to her. She listened as the person on the other end picked up.

"Hello?" the person said.

Sara's eyes filled with tears. She would know that voice anywhere. "Mommy?"

Grissom could hear the sobs coming through the phone receiver, and he held Sara close as she and her mother cried together. "It's over, Mom," Sara whispered. "We're gonna be okay. It's over."