Wherefore

Chapter 2

I've got a routine that I follow when I wake up. Coffee and a piece of fruit while watching the evening news, then a long, long run. It's my quiet time, when I can concentrate on the sound of my feet on the pavement and nothing else. I tried meditation and yoga, but I'm too restless. At least running gives the impression that I'm going somewhere.

A quick shower, then I head to work, wondering if Grissom will be there when I get in. Shift doesn't start for another hour, but he left early yesterday after the encounter in the interrogation room.

He's in his office when I arrive, and by the looks of things, he's been there a while.

"Hey."

To my surprise, he looks up from his desk and smiles widely, relief shining in his bleary eyes. "Hey yourself. I'm glad you're here. Do you have a minute?"

Nodding, I walk over to take a seat across from him. "What's up?"

"I'm taking Greg off the Tangiers case."

I blink in surprise. "Grissom, I'm on three other cases besides the O'Dell murder." He winces slightly when I say the name. "I won't be able to give it the attention it deserves."

"You will now, because Sofia and Greg are taking over the other three. We're going to focus all our attention on Josephine's case."

I'm afraid to ask. "We?"

"Yes, I'm going to be working it with you." His eyes turn steely, daring me to argue. "Until we find out who did this to her."

"You can't work this case," I say softly. "Think about how it will look in court. No jury will believe that you're impartial."

"That's why you're primary CSI on this one. I'll just be another set of hands."

That's a lie, and we both know it. "Grissom."

"Catherine investigated Eddie's assault charge," he reminds me. "You investigated the murder of your friend's husband."

"True," I concede.

"I need you with me on this." His voice is quiet, and he doesn't look at me. "You're the only one I trust. Please."

There's something broken in his tone, and I find myself yielding. "Do you. is there anything you need to tell me about your involvement-"

His short laugh cuts me off. "Sara, you're one of the best investigators I've ever known. I have no doubt that you've already found out all you needed to know from. her."

I feel my stomach clench. My name just rolled carelessly off his tongue, but he can't bring himself to speak Juliette's aloud. So I don't either. "Do you want me to be the liaison between the lab and Mrs. Davis?"

"Does anything ever get past you?" His eyes dance with mild amusement at the 'Mrs. Davis.' "Yes, I think that would be best, for everyone involved. It sounds like you two. hit it off?"

"I like her, yes."

He snorts. "Not surprising, considering how. well, not surprising."

I just nod. Grissom looks at me, and there's something in his gaze I haven't seen before. The usual sadness and longing are there, sure. But there's something else, too.

A knock on his open door interrupts us. It's Jacqui.

"You said to let you know if I got any matches on the prints Greg lifted from the Tangiers."

He waves her in. "What did you find?"

"Well, most of the prints weren't in AFIS, no surprise there. But a few of them were. I took the identified prints and compared them to the list of hotel staff and recent guests. One didn't match up. A guy with two priors for driving while intoxicated. He's from LA, just like your vic."

Grissom takes the printout from her hand. "Could be a coincidence. But still, ask Juliette," he instructs me, saying her name quietly. "See if she knows someone named Frank Collingswood."

"She does," I reply immediately, and his eyes widen. "A couple of months ago, she tied him on a trivia game show. It's supposed to air this week."

"Wait," Jacqui says. "You mean this is the Frank Collingswood? The Wizard?"

"He's a wizard?" Grissom never fails to amaze me with his disinterest in pop culture.

"No, he's this walking encyclopedia," Jacqui supplies. "Knows everything. And she tied him? Nobody's tied him before."

"Could be motive," I speculate, and he agrees.

"Thanks, Jacqui."

She nods and leaves.

"So what now?"

"I'll book us a flight," he says, reaching for the phone.

"To LA? We can't justify that expense. They have CSI's there who could interview him."

He ignores me and continues to dial. Finally I roll my eyes and get to my feet, wandering down the hallway and into the break room. Greg's in there, filling out a case report.

"How's the Tangiers case going?" he asks.

"We may have a break," I say, reaching for the coffee pot. The fragrant aroma can only mean one thing, and when I shoot Greg a pleading look, he nods indulgently. I fill a mug with his Blue Hawaiian, then take a seat next to him.

"What sort of break?"

"One of the prints you lifted in the hotel room was Frank Collingswood's."

He whistles low. "You guys gonna question him?"

"Looks that way."

Greg laughs. "God, I'd pay to see that."

"See what?"

"Grissom versus The Wizard."

I get to my feet and ruffle his hair affectionately. "It's not the WWF Smackdown, Greg, it's an interrogation."

"Same difference."

Grissom's still on the phone when I pass his office, so I roam the halls, wishing I had another case I could work on. That's the great thing about balancing several cases at once - it cuts down on the monotony of waiting for technology to do its magic.

My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out. "Hello?"

"Sara? It's Juliette Davis."

"Hey," I reply, ducking into a corner of the hallway. "What's going on? Have you thought of something else that might pertain to the case?"

"I. no," she admits with a sigh. Baby Ian is screaming in the background, and I hear Juliette murmur to him soothingly. "I was just calling to see if you've found any leads."

"Possibly," I tell her. "We're looking into it."

"Thanks." She sounds distracted, and Ian's crying even harder now.

"Is the baby okay?"

She's silent, and when she finally does speak, I can hear the fatigue in her voice. "We're staying in another room at the Tangiers, and it's just. really hard to take care of a baby here. I can't sterilize his bottles, and I'm out of the diapers he likes, but I don't have a car to go buy new ones. and the noises from the other hotel guests keep him up at all hours. I don't know what to do. I want to stay here in case I can help with your investigation, but we can't keep going like this."

It's a terrible idea. A terrible, terrible idea. I shouldn't say it, and yet Ian's sobs are making my heart ache. "You can stay with me."

"Oh, no," she demurs. "That's not what I meant. I just-"

"No, really, I insist," I hear myself say. "I have a spare room in my apartment, and it's very quiet."

Ian screams louder. Finally, she hesitantly accepts, taking down my address and the hidden location of my spare key.

"Sara?" Grissom's walking toward me.

"I've got to go," I tell Juliette quickly, and hang up.

"Okay, we're taking the 8 AM flight out of McCarran Airport," he says, handing me a printout of the reservation. "I'm thinking we should plan to stay two days, so that we can meet with Josephine's lawyers about her will. See if anyone would benefit from her death." He blinks, suddenly looking unsure. "I'm sorry, I should have asked, can you leave for a couple of days?"

"Yeah, it's no problem."

"Make sure you get a neighbor to water your plants," he teases lightly.

"Juliette can do." I close my eyes as I realize my blunder. When I open them, he's glaring at me.

"Tell me I misheard you."

"Grissom-"

"She's part of an ongoing investigation," he hisses. "Are you insane? She can't stay with you."

"Do you think she killed her mother?" I shoot back.

"No, of course not."

"How long has it been since you last saw her?"

"About twenty hours," he retorts, then shrinks under my hard stare. "Before that. over ten years."

"People change."

Grissom shakes his head firmly. "I know. knew her. Believe me, she didn't have anything to do with it."

"Then what harm could come of letting her stay with me?"

He starts to stammer about impartiality, but I interrupt him.

"She can't take care of a baby in a hotel indefinitely. It's unfair to Ian."

There's that look again. It flickers in his eyes, and I still can't identify it. "Ian?"

"He's only five months old. He needs a home right now. Please, Grissom."

His jaw clenches, and he looks away. Finally he gives a short nod. Gently, I put my hand on his arm.

"I need to restock my kit before we leave," I tell him. When I walk away, heading for the supply room, I don't have to turn around to know that he's watching me go.