CHAPTER 26
Catherine stared down at the fuzzy snout now rooting at her shirt. Olivia? Her eyes narrowed. “Have you seen Ms. Sidle this morning?” she asked Judy.
“Sorry. She left a few hours ago with the Assistant Coroner.” Papers rustled as Judy checked the log sheet. “She hasn’t called in since then. Do you want me to radio her?”
“No.” Clutching Olivia in her arms, Catherine started down the hallway. “I’ll talk to her later.” After all, Sara had to come home sometime. Home… The squirming bundle in her arms reminded her of a looming problem. What was she going to do with a pet pig?
A cough interrupted her internal musings. “Uh, Cath?” Nick asked. She could hear the suppressed laughter in his voice. “Don’t most people get a dog or cat when they pick their first pet?”
Mock glaring at him, Catherine carefully brandished Olivia. “Could you turn down this face?”
Olivia’s series of grunts seemed to indicate that she would have a hard time resisting.
“But a pig, Cath?” Nick reached out and scratched Olivia’s whiskered chin.
She restrained the urge to tell him about Sara’s probable involvement in Olivia’s appearance. “Give her a chance, Nicky. Pigs are supposed to be very clean, very trainable animals.” That was pot bellied pigs, Catherine thought. Hopefully, though, it would distract Nick.
“If you say so.” He didn’t sound convinced.
“I do.” With a bright smile, Catherine changed the subject. “You want to check in with Trace on the rest of the evidence from the dean’s office? I can start on the paperwork.” She ignored his wide-eyed look of disbelief at her very out of character offer. “If anything new pops up, give me a call.” It was a pro forma suggestion, and they both knew it. With the mountain of blood evidence and a confession, there really shouldn’t be any surprises.
“You got it, Cath.” With a wave, Nick veered off and hurried down the hallway to the right.
Alone with Olivia, Catherine headed for her ‘office.’ The out of the way lab looked like a paper warehouse. Piles of it covered the desk crammed into one corner and spilled onto the rolling cart to one side and the floor on the other. “Looks like you have the perfect sty, cutie. Try not to destroy too much of it, though, OK? Gil gets testy when I tell him my pig ate my homework.”
***
Sara followed David’s car into the parking lot. As she turned off the engine, he climbed out of his own vehicle and waited for her. Before I talk to this guy, David,” she asked when she joined him on the sidewalk, “did you find out anything else from the body?”
“Sorry, Sara. Dead, embalmed, and then dumped. That’s all.” David walked toward the morgue entrance. “Mr. Gesek doesn’t normally do his own pickups, though. It’s usually one of his employees.” Looking back with a half-smile, he confessed, “That was the other reason I came to get you in person.”
“Smooth, David. Very smooth.” Laughing, Sara ducked under the arm he used to hold open the door. It was cool and dim inside. “Maybe you should consider taking the field test. Join the team.”
Giving her a look over the top of his glasses, David disagreed. “No. Thank you for the vote of confidence, though. I smelled you when you came back from your dumpster dive. I’ll stay here and handle the bone saw.” He glanced at his watch. “We’d better hurry. You don’t want to miss Mr. Gesek.”
He set a stiff pace down the hallway, and, even with longer legs, Sara had to trot to keep up. David bypassed the autopsy room, turned down a bewildering series of corridors, and pushed open steel doors.
A dark-haired man clutched the railing of a gurney and looked up in surprise at their abrupt entrance.
Sara didn’t give him time to recover his composure. “Mr. Gesek, I’m Sara Sidle from the Crime Lab.” She was dimly aware that David hadn’t stayed with her. Too bad. “I have some questions about one of your customers.” Stepping forward, she yanked down the top of the sheet covering the body on the gurney. “This one, Stephanie Reyes.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know much,” Gesek murmured. He returned the sheet to its previous position.
“Really?” Sara didn’t believe him. “That’s too bad. Maybe you’ll know the answer to this question, though. How did Ms. Reyes rise from the grave and end up in a dumpster?”
“Uh…” He stepped away from her and moved to the other side of the body. “Well, no one in the mortuary business likes to talk about it, but it does happen.”
Sara tilted her head. “I’m new here, Mr. Gesek. I don’t seem to speak the language. Can you spell it out for me? What happens?” She tried to sound as harmless as possible.
She must have struck the right note. Gesek relaxed and actually leaned toward her over the corpse. “Grave robbing.”
“You’re saying someone dug Stephanie Reyes up? For what? The shoes she wore for her own funeral?” Sara gave up on sweet and helpless. Gesek was lying. He had to be. “Mr. Gesek, people may rob graves. In fact, I’ve even worked a few of those over the years.” She stalked around the gurney, moving so quickly Gesek didn’t have time to flee. “There’s one big difference between those cases and this one.”
Throat moving in a gulping swallow, Gesek asked, “What…what’s that?”
“In those cases, the robbers took the corpse’s jewelry or clothing. They didn’t take the body.” She was pressed against him now, using her height to intimidate. “Why don’t you try again, Mr. Gesek? Tell me what’s really going on with Ms. Reyes and your funeral home? Why are you here to pick up her body and not some flunky?”
She could see the sweat beading at his hairline as he struggled to find answers to her rapid-fire questions.
Playing a hunch, Sara asked one last question. “Why didn’t you report that someone had been digging up the dearly departed?”
***
Sticking her head into the break room, Sara called out, “Anybody seen Catherine?”
“Her office.” Nick closed the journal he was reading and stretched. “She offered to do the paperwork on our case. Me? I think she’s sick. She never does that.”
Maybe upset rather than sick. Sara hoped Catherine wasn’t still up in arms over her refusal to come out. “I didn’t know CSIs rated an office.”
“None of us have the kind of pull with the boss that Cath does,” Nick said. His grin helped take the sting out of his words. “Actually, it’s a lab way in the back that no one ever uses. Cath camps out there when Grissom makes her catch up on case files.” He pointed through the glass walls of the room. “Just head toward Grissom’s office and take the last left before you get there. It’s all the way at the end.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
With a wave, Sara reversed her path. She and Catherine really needed to
talk. The echoing sound of her footsteps didn’t help her build confidence.
She’d screwed up earlier when she hadn’t told Catherine what she wanted to
know. That thought migrated from her head to her stomach, sitting there like a
burning ember. By the time Sara stood in front of the closed lab door, she
seriously considered returning to
Straightening her shoulders and scrubbing her hands on her pants, Sara resolutely reached out and knocked.
“Come in.” Catherine’s voice was muted by the door.
Even muffled, though, the command sounded simple. Frozen on the outside, Sara didn’t agree. This wasn’t simple. Not simple at all.
Standing in the hallway wasn’t solving her problem, however. Sara turned the handle and slowly opened the door. “Hey, Cath,” she said breezily. “You, uh…you ready to go home?”
Catherine looked up from the file on her desk. “Sure. Can you do me a favor, though? I’ve got a few things to take to the car. Can you grab the package over there, in the corner?” She flashed a bright smile. “The one trying to eat my journals?”
Oh shit. Sara turned her head carefully. Her eyes drifted closed. “About that package, Cath…” she started to say.
The ‘package’ came over to investigate. Snuffling and snorting, Olivia examined Sara’s shoe laces.
“She’s very cute, Sara,” Catherine commented. “Not really what I imagined for Lindsey’s first pet, though. I was thinking maybe goldfish until she’s old enough to really take care of a pet. I assume pigs are a lot of work.”
Opening her mouth, Sara tried to interrupt.
Catherine didn’t give her a chance. “I mean, can you train a pig to use a litter box or do you take them on walks?”
“Cath, I…” She’d said that before. Gritting her teeth, Sara tried a new tack. “She’s not a pet.” That was better.
Unfortunately, the new information didn’t stop Catherine’s questions. “You want me and Linds to use Olivia for breakfast tomorrow?”
“No!” Sara nearly shouted.
Her voice startled Olivia. With a loud squeal, she scuttled under Catherine’s desk.
“Don’t worry, sweetie, I won’t let the mean Sara make you into bacon,” Catherine crooned. She bent and picked up the pig and cradled her in her arms.
This had gone on far enough. “Catherine, I’m sorry about Olivia.”
Two sets of eyes stared at her.
Clearing her throat and wiggling under the dual regard, Sara
forged on. “She isn’t supposed to provide breakfast. I got her from the RC Farms
guy who brings in the…” She couldn’t make herself say dissection samples.
“…supplies. Olivia is a free pig. He’s going to pick her up this afternoon and
take her to a petting zoo in
“See that, Olivia? Sara can be a nice person.” As Sara watched in shock, Catherine pressed a quick kiss to the pig’s head and then looked up with a cheerful smile. “You got me. I wasn’t expecting it, and this time, you got me. Next time, though…”
Slowly relaxing, Sara grinned back. “You asked for it, Cath. You know you did. All that talk about Lindsey’s pet and introducing me to a book.” She walked over and dropped into the chair in front of Catherine’s desk. “Now, why don’t we take Olivia to her temporary home and grab some breakfast?”
Olivia squealed.
“Hey! I didn’t say anything about bacon or other pork products,” Sara protested quickly.
When Olivia settled down, Catherine reached out with one hand and began straightening the files and papers on her desk. “Sure. I’ve got enough paperwork done to keep Gil off my back for another day or two.”
Hiding a smirk as Catherine’s efforts only made the mess look worse, Sara hopped up. “I’ll take Olivia. You need more than one hand to tackle that pile.” A dozen might not be enough, but Sara kept that thought to herself.
Catherine regarded her with narrowed eyes. With obvious reluctance, she stood and transferred Olivia into Sara’s arms. “If she does anything, Olivia, you just yell,” she stage whispered in Olivia’s tiny ear.
Grunting and waving feet answered the warning.
With a theatrical sigh, Sara cradled the pig with exaggerated care. “I’ll protect her with my life, Cath. I promise.” With painfully slow strides, she walked from the room.
***
Keeping a close eye on Sara’s progress, Catherine stopped playing with the files on her desk as soon as the door closed behind the pair. “Looks like Olivia gave you an out, didn’t she?” she asked the empty room. Tapping a finger on her lips, she continued to muse aloud. “I hope you don’t think our conversation from earlier is finished.”
Far from it. Catherine had no intention of letting Sara off the hook.
Still, Catherine acknowledged the need for caution. Sara didn’t respond well to pressure – at least not where her emotions were involved. Standing and retrieving her purse and the few files she’d managed to update, Catherine decided that, no matter how hard it might be, she would give Sara time to bring up the topic of her orientation without prodding.
She was still repeating that to herself when Sara returned to the office empty handed.
“Olivia is happily rooting through the sawdust I spread in her crate,” Sara announced. Leaning against the doorframe, she tilted her head. “Are you sure you got enough done? I don’t want Grissom to blow up another pager trying to get you back to the lab.”
Brandishing the file folders, Catherine shook her head. “Abuse. All I get is abuse.” She brushed past Sara and stalked in mock irritation down the hallway. “This is twice what I normally turn in. Gil will be so surprised, he might actually do my performance review on time this year.”
Sara’s snort indicated her disagreement. “Cath, you have what? Four folders? If Grissom does your eval after that, I’d be worried he’d rate you below expectations and transfer you to days.”
“That’s what you think.” With a sunny smile, Catherine ducked into Grissom’s office and carefully placed her completed files in the center of his cluttered desk. Returning to the hallway, she continued, “Gil hates paperwork even more than I do. He thinks I’m amazing because I can actually do it.” She slung an arm around Sara’s waist and leaned in close to whisper, “In fact, Gil has me do his paperwork when the Sheriff starts to complain.”
The tiny hairs on the back of Sara’s neck came to attention.
Catherine saw the reaction – and refused to pull away this time. She did, however, raise her voice to normal levels and change the subject. “Are you treating me to breakfast or will a bowl of cereal hold you over until after we sleep?”
“I’ll treat.” Sara’s voice squeaked on her answer, and she frowned and cleared her throat. “Cereal may be enough for a ten-year old. Not for me. I need something more substantial.”
The opening was too good for Catherine to pass up. “Does that mean the way to your heart is through your stomach?” She considered it a measure of Sara’s growing comfort when the other woman didn’t freeze or pull away.
Sara tilted her head with a smirk. “You interested? Eddie said you liked ‘em butch, but I thought that was the drugs talking.”
Hmmm, Sara had made more progress than Catherine had anticipated. Maybe it was time to take the gloves off. “I don’t know, Sara.” Taking a step away, she halted in the middle of the hallway and raked her eyes over Sara’s body. “You don’t …”
“Cath! Sara!” Of course. Grissom had the worst timing ever.
Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Catherine spun to face him as he hurried toward them. “We’re heading home, Gil. Make it quick.” She wasted no time on pleasantries. Any visit from Grissom this time of day meant overtime, and Catherine had no intention of indulging him.
His eyebrows shot up over the frames of his glasses. “Oh.” Grissom stopped a few feet away and shuffled his feet uncertainly. “I got a call from the Undersheriff a few minutes ago.” As he started to talk, his enthusiasm grew. “A 419 at the Luxor. I thought we could…”
There it was. Gritting her teeth at Grissom’s assumption that she wanted to work another double shift, Catherine overrode the rest of his explanation with a curt, “No. I’m not staying.”
She wasn’t ready for his look of confusion, or his comment. “I wasn’t talking to you, Cath.”
***
Sara bit her lip to hold back her laugh. The look of complete surprise on Catherine’s face was priceless.
“Well?” Grissom’s question brought Sara back to business. “Do you want to drive?”
“Uh…” Did she want to drive? Hesitating, Sara looked back and forth between Grissom and Catherine. Grissom was impatient, chomping at the bit to get to work. Catherine, though, was harder to read.
Or was she? Ignoring the way Grissom nearly vibrated with excitement over the case, Sara peered at Catherine. Her shoulders were slightly slumped and was that a pout? Was Catherine that upset about possibly missing breakfast out?
Despite her fear of the personal conversation she assumed Catherine had planned for them, Sara said, “Sorry, Gris. I’m with Cath on this one. I’m not staying, either.”
If she had said the world was ending, Grissom couldn’t have been more shocked. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed a strangled, “Oh. OK.” He took a few steps backward, peering at Sara intently. “Are you sure? This case sounded really interesting.”
“No, Grissom.” Refusing him was easier the second time. Sara grabbed Catherine’s arm. “We’re going to breakfast and then heading home.” Then she had a better plan. “Actually, I think we’ll pick Lindsey up and then get breakfast.”
She felt Catherine’s arm twitch in her grasp. “Sara?” Catherine asked softly. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
Deliberately misunderstanding Catherine’s concern, Sara said, “You were the one who warned me about Grissom and the way he took over your life. I’m simply taking your advice and avoiding that.” She began dragging Catherine down the hallway and away from a still-staring Grissom.
They exited the building into the already-bright morning. “That wasn’t what I meant,” Catherine murmured as they made their way to her Tahoe. “You don’t have to prove anything, Sara.”
“I’m not.” It was the truth. Sara released Catherine’s arm and climbed into the vehicle. “I figured you and Lindsey don’t get to spend a lot of quality time together. We left on time, Cath,” she continued, pointing to the dashboard clock. “That gives us a chance to wake Lindsey up and find a restaurant close to her school.”
As the Tahoe started to back away from the parking bumper and Catherine hadn’t replied, Sara’s new-found confidence began to crumble.
“If we do this, you know Lindsey will pester us every day for family breakfasts.” Catherine’s lips lifted in a smile. “And I’m going to tell her it was all your idea.”
A shiver worked its way through Sara at that. A constant barrage of questions and pleas. Sara ignored that nightmare image and concentrated, instead, on the memory of Lindsey’s intense and serious look as she’d promised to keep Sara’s secret at the park. “Bring it on, Cath. I can take it.” The knot in her stomach and the pounding of her heart warned Sara she might be overreaching.
Catherine maneuvered the big vehicle swiftly away from the Strip. The entire time, she didn’t say a word. She did, however, glance at Sara every few seconds.
Taking a stab at guessing Catherine’s question, Sara said abruptly, “I’ll be fine with Lindsey, Cath. And if I’m not, I’ll take a trip to the bathroom. I’m not going to freak out in front of her.”
Now she got a full-on look from Catherine. “I’m not worried about that at all, Sara.”
Oh. Slumping back in the seat and blushing, Sara mumbled, “Then why all the funny looks?”
“Well, let’s see.” Catherine’s voice was soft and serious, and Sara braced for the worst. “In the last half hour, you’ve relaxed enough to flirt with me, told your mentor no when he wanted to drag you to a crime scene, and decided to take my daughter to breakfast.”
Sara sensed the other shoe about to drop.
It hit the carpeted floor of the Tahoe with a pronounced thump when Catherine asked, “Does that mean you’re ready to talk about what happened in the observation room, too?”
Sara gave a short laugh. “You aren’t going to let that go, are you?” She hadn’t expected it – even if a reprieve would be nice.
“No.” Catherine smiled wryly. “I told myself I was going to, though, if that helps.”
This time, Sara’s laugh was genuine. “It does, actually.” Grinning, she turned in the seat until she had a better view of Catherine. She grew more serious. “You already know the truth, Cath. How will my saying the words out loud change that?” Sara asked, really wanting to know.
“It isn’t about you being gay, Sara. It’s about trust.” Catherine slowed for an upcoming turn. “And even great investigators like me make mistakes when it comes to sexual orientation.”
Sara couldn’t resist. “So you not only make mistakes, but you have faulty gaydar?”
The joke fell flat. Catherine shot her an impatient glance before looking back at the road. “You really don’t want to talk about this, do you? Why?” Then she shook her head. “Never mind. Forget I said anything. When you get over your trust issues, you know where to find me.”
Lapsing into silence, Sara stared at her fisted hands as the rested on her thighs. Why was this so hard? She’d told David out of the blue. Catherine already knew. She simply needed to hear the words.
Trust.
That one word. Sara’s knuckles were white. That one tiny word. David’s reaction – if it had gone badly – would have hurt, but Sara would have gotten over that. They didn’t work closely together. They didn’t live in the same house. And… Closing her eyes, Sara let the words whisper in her own mind, she wasn’t attracted to David.
“I’m gay.” The words were soft yet firm, and Sara’s hands slowly uncurled as the coiled tension released. “I’m a lesbian, Cath.”
There was no immediate response, and Sara watched Catherine closely.
“Thank you,” Catherine finally said. She reached across the console and patted Sara’s hand. “Until today, I hadn’t realized how difficult it might be to say that.”
“Yeah, that case hit home.” Sara stretched her legs out as far as she could. “It happens a lot, Cath, that coworker who can’t understand that being a lesbian means you aren’t interested in men.”
Catherine’s hand, still resting on Sara’s, squeezed gently. “Did it happen to you?”
A slow, disbelieving smile touched Sara’s lips. “You know, you’re the only person who’s ever asked me that.” She turned her palm over and briefly entwined their fingers. Staring at their joined hands, Sara closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of Catherine’s fingers. “No, Cath. It didn’t.”
***
Sara had touched her. Willingly. Afraid to shatter the moment, Catherine remained silent and still.
“Anyway,” Sara said after a moment, “do you feel better now that you know?” Her fingers slipped out of Catherine’s, and she turned slightly in the seat.
Drawing her hand back across the car, Catherine restrained an urge to pump her fist in triumph. Sara had touched her. Instead, she smirked and met amused brown eyes. “Hell, yeah.
Her comment got a laugh and a finger pointed in her direction. “You, Catherine Willows, need to back off the competition.”
Catherine grinned and made the turn onto
The laughter got louder.
“What? Trying to measure me for a casket?” Cocking an eyebrow in Sara’s direction, Catherine parked in front of her sister’s house and turned off the engine. “That’s just cold, Sara. Cold. I’m going to tell Gil to keep an eye on you in case I suddenly go missing.”
“I’ll tell you after breakfast. It isn’t something Lindsey needs to hear.” Sara opened her door and climbed out, leaving a bemused Catherine behind.
Shaking her head, Catherine followed Sara out of the Tahoe and up the front walk. “Now who sounds like a mother?” she mocked gently. “You have hidden talents, Sara Sidle. What else do you have locked away in that complicated head of yours?”
Sara stopped in front of the door while Catherine fished her keys out of her purse. “What’s the matter, Cath? Now that the big secret is out, there has to be more for you to uncover?” She leaned a shoulder against the siding, head tilted.
Avoiding the question, Catherine unlocked the door and put
her finger over her lips. They were about an hour earlier than she knew
Her ploy was only partially successful. Sara gave her a narrow-eyed look that promised the subject wouldn’t be forgotten.
The interior of the house was quiet and dark. Footsteps
creaked on the second floor.
“Cath…” Sara’s voice was low and exasperated. “I’m not going to run screaming. Really.”
“I didn’t think you were, Sara.” Catherine stopped her trek toward Lindsey and Jeremy’s shared bedroom. “But Jeremy’s a light sleeper and I didn’t want to wake him up.”
She bit back a grin at Sara’s chagrined look and quiet, “Oh. I didn’t think of that.”
“Good. I’d feel intimidated if you thought of everything,” Catherine teased. “If
you’re feeling so helpful this morning, why don’t you leave a note for
Sara took a step toward the kitchen and then paused. “There are no kids in the kitchen, right?” The gap between her teeth was barely visible in the dim light.
Fighting a laugh, Catherine arched an eyebrow and pointed a single finger at the kitchen. “No, Sara. There are no children in there. It’s early. All the kids in this house are still sleeping.”
“Good. That’s good.” Still grinning, Sara walked with exaggerated strides around the living room furniture, peering comically around as if looking for hidden kids.
Catherine gave in and chuckled as she left Sara to her hunt. It was a short walk down the hallway to Jeremy’s room. Once there, she gently opened the door and stepped inside. Two nightlights lit the otherwise dark room and the bunk beds jammed against the far wall.
Jeremy snored softly from the top bunk. One leg and part of his blanket dangled over the edge. Lindsay, though, looked more like a cocoon. The only parts of her that Catherine could see were a few unruly strands of blonde hair.
“Linds,” Catherine whispered as she dropped to her knees next to the bed.
Two sleep-encrusted eyes fluttered open. “Mommy?’
“Good morning, sweetie. Sara and I stopped by to take you to breakfast.” Only Catherine’s well-honed maternal reflexes got her hand over Lindsay’s mouth in time to smother her excited squeal.
Lindsay’s eyes immediately shot upward.
They both waited tensely until another round of loud and heavy breathing announced Jeremy hadn’t heard their exchange.
“Come on. Let’s get you dressed.” Enjoying the rare chance to be with Lindsay for her morning routines, Catherine picked up her daughter’s warm and pliant body and carried her to the door.
“Don’t forget my bag, Mommy.” Lindsay wiggled until Catherine reluctantly set her down. “And I’m not going to breakfast in my jammies.” Even in a whisper, Lindsay’s scorn was apparent.
Holding her hands out in silent apology, Catherine waited while Lindsay chose the perfect outfit from the chest of drawers and looped her backpack over one shoulder. “Are you ready now?” she asked, pretending to look at her watch. “We might not have time to eat; it’s getting really late.”
Tiny hands planted on narrow hips. “Mo-om,” Lindsay drawled out in warning.
“I’m just saying. If we have to skip breakfast, it’s all your fault. You just had to pick the right clothes.” With a dramatic sigh, Catherine opened the door and pulled Lindsay into the hall. She gestured at the bathroom farther along the hallway. “Get moving, young lady. I was only teasing about missing breakfast, but you can’t take too long.”
Lindsay nodded and took off her backpack. “Here. I don’t need this yet.” She took one step down the hall and stopped. “Mommy, why are you here and not at work?”
The blunt and totally unexpected question rocked Catherine. “Sweetie, I don’t work all the time.” She didn’t, did she? Pushing away thoughts of all the double shifts she’s pulled in the last few weeks, Catherine gently shoved Lindsay toward the bathroom. “My shift ends at seven, Linds. Sometimes I just get held up for a while, that’s all.”
“Cool. I’m glad you didn’t get held up today.” Lindsay ran down the hallway and into the bathroom.
Catherine remained frozen in place. Maybe she’d overreacted to the question. Lindsay hadn’t seemed upset, just curious.
She was still there, wrestling with her conscience and the truth, when a blonde rocket flew back down the hallway. “Ready, Mommy!”
Catherine staggered and nearly tripped over the book bag at her feet. “I don’t know about ready, Miss Willows. You just seem heavy to me.” Groaning and moaning in pretend strain, Catherine snagged the backpack and carried Lindsay to the living room.
It was empty.
“I think we have to rescue Sara before breakfast, Linds,” Catherine said. “She was supposed to leave a note for your aunt and then meet us here, but she seems to be lost.”
Lindsay snorted. “I bet you forgot to tell her where Aunt Nancy keeps the dry erase markers, Mom.”
Shaking her head at the inaccurate statement, Catherine disagreed. “I was almost distracted by the thought of waking a beautiful princess and telling her that her feast awaited; however, I managed to remember just in time.”
“You’re silly, Mommy.” Lindsay reached up and wrapped her arms around Catherine’s neck. “Now, come on. Let’s find Sara. I’m hungry.”
Catherine shifted Lindsay into a comfortable position against
her hip and walked into
Leaning against the counter with her arms crossed, Sara
glanced away from a bathrobed
“Good morning, Nance.” Catherine smirked at Sara’s discomfort. “We came to steal Lindsey.”
Tightening the belt on her robe,
“Mommy doesn’t tell stories, Aunt Nancy.” Lindsey hopped up and down. “I do. But I never told Sara anything about you. I bet you gave her one of your Morning Looks and she got scared like me and Jeremy.” Then she got tired of the subject. “Did you hear? I get to have breakfast with Mommy and Sara.” Lindsey stopped bouncing and shot across the kitchen to wrap her tiny arms around Sara.
Catherine took a step forward, ready to pry Lindsey loose if Sara started to panic.
Although Sara didn’t return the exuberant hug, Catherine
realized her assistance wasn’t needed. A little pale and stiff looking, Sara
had her hands pressed to Lindsey’s shoulders. “Looks like you’ve been demoted,
Voice only slightly shaky, Sara responded, “Sorry. No. If I did the cooking, we’d all starve – or die from ptomaine.” She gently pried Lindsey’s arms away from her body. “I do most of my eating out of bags.”
***
Sara wasn’t expecting the stern glare from Lindsey. “That kind of food will kill you,” Lindsey announce firmly.
Biting her lip, Sara watched the little girl plant both hands on her hips in a perfect mimicry of her mother.
The lecture wasn’t over, however. “You need to eat fruits and vegetables, Sara. Mommy says that’s important.” Lindsey unbent a little. “I’ll draw you a picture of the food pyramid so you can do better.”
Two choked off laughs nearly eroded the last of Sara’s control. Her lips twitched and her body trembled with harnessed mirth. She glared at Nancy and Catherine for their reactions.
Both immediately pasted on matching looks of pure innocence.
“Right. Like I believe those,” Sara grumbled.before looking back and Lindsey.
Two pools of blue sucked her in.
Completely unaware of her actions, Sara brushed some hair out of Lindsey’s face. “I tell you what…” Her voice seemed lodged halfway between her chest and her mouth so she cleared her throat. “If your mom will teach me to cook, I’ll make you breakfast on the days I’m off.” She made the offer while struggling with a pounding heart and tiny black dots dancing in front of her eyes.
Her reward was another bone crushing hug.
Sara was in trouble. The room started to waver and her skin cycled from ice cold to near melting repeatedly. She looked up at Catherine frantically.
Unfortunately, Catherine wasn’t looking in her direction.
Sucking in a huge gulp of air, Sara woodenly patted Lindsey’s shoulder. She had to keep the little girl from figuring out anything was wrong. She had to. “Why…why don’t we…” Her voice squeaked and then wavered as she choked the words out. “Why don’t we get going?” she finally managed in a rush.
“Cool!” The arms around Sara’s waist disappeared as Lindsey hurtled across the kitchen. “I’m ready – and hungry, too. Come on, Mommy. Stop helping Aunt Nancy with breakfast.”
The kitchen stopped undulating. Sara wiped a trembling hand across her forehead, swiping at the clammy sweat clinging to her bangs. “Yeah, Cath. What’s the deal? You promised me breakfast out.” Proud that her voice was firm again, Sara took an easier breath. She could do this.
“
Seeing Lindsey’s pouting lip, Sara followed suite. She felt ridiculous with her lower lip protruding, but she watched Catherine closely.
It was working. Catherine’s eyes darted to Lindsey and then to Sara before skittering away. “Um…” She wiggled and avoided further eye contact.
“Moooomy, you promised,” Lindsey whined.
Still playing Follow the Leader, Sara forced her voice into a high-pitched tone. “Caaaath, you promised.” The band around her chest loosened further when she caught the hint of a smile on Catherine’s face.
“I am looking, Nance. That’s the problem.” Catherine dropped the silverware in her hand onto the counter. “And because I looked, I’m leaving. The bottomless pits have spoken.” She put one hand on Lindsey’s shoulder and the other on Sara’s lower back. “Where am I taking you, ladies?”
Before Sara could tell Lindsey to make the decision, the little girl chirped. “The IHOP. It’s Stuffed French Toast Week!” Running for the door, Lindsey left Catherine and Sara to make their own way to the Tahoe.
“She’s painfully shy, Cath,” Sara teased. “I really had to push her to say anything and make a decision.” She shook her head as they walked out of the house. “I think Lindsey’s going to struggle with making up her mind.”
“Are you sure?” Catherine played along. “It must be in the genes. I’ve always been wishy-washy.”
She’d managed that with a straight face. Sara started laughing. “Yes. I noticed that right away,” she said between chuckles. “Grissom should have fired you a long time ago, Cath. I’m sorry; it’s true. Forty-five minutes to choose the right pair of gloves?”
They got to the SUV. Lindsey was already inside, bouncing in her seat so the large vehicle rocked noticeably. Catherine grabbed the driver’s side door handle. “You can’t ever take too long on gloves, Sara. It’s an art. What if you choose the wrong pair and they don’t match your outfit?”
***
Catherine was glad Sara seemed fine as they entered the restaurant. Maybe breakfast with Lindsey hadn’t been a bad idea. “Ok, Linds. Sara’s buying so feel free to get whatever you want.”
She calmly ignored the death glare Sara shot her way.
“Mommy, I told you what I wanted. Stuffed French toast.” Lindsey shook her head. “You need to get some sleep. You always act funny when you’re tired.”
Cheeks burning from the sharply delivered rebuke, Catherine picked up a menu and attempted to hide behind it.
Unfortunately, Sara didn’t let that happen. “How funny does she get, Lindsey?” she asked. Catherine could hear the laughter through the lingering stiffness in Sara’s voice. “Does she dance and sing? Or forget where she put things?”
Peering over the top of the menu, Catherine tried to warn Lindsey not to talk with a glare. Lindsey pretended not to see it. She giggled and leaned across the table toward Sara. “One time, she left her shirt in the bedroom.”
Catherine looked frantically around the nearly-deserted IHOP. Where was the waitress when she needed her? Seeing a lone woman straightening menus near the cash register, she waved her arm to get her attention.
The woman waved back and held up a single finger.
No! Catherine wanted to pound her head on the table at the gesture. She didn’t want to wait a minute. In a minute, Sara would ask for more details – and Lindsey would give them to her.
“She left her shirt in the bedroom?” Sure enough, Sara wasn’t letting the conversation go. “Why is that bad? Unless...” She grinned and Catherine stared at the gap between Sara’s teeth and knew there was no way to stop this from ending badly. “Was your Uncle Gil there?”
Lindsey shook her head so hard her hair flew around her face. “Oh, no. Not this time.”
Catherine tried another wave, but the woman didn’t even glance her way.
“This time, she got all the way to the car in just her pants and bra,” Lindsey said, delivering the coup de grace.
Two giggles erupted, and Catherine dropped her menu onto her lap and put her elbows on the table. Burying her face in her hands, she decided she should have told Grissom she’d work the overtime. It would have been less embarrassing than this.
“Hey.” A leg bumped into her side. “Come on, Cath. It’s funny,” Sara said.
Catherine peered warily between her fingers. “No, it’s not.”
She received a cute eye roll and another nudge. “Yeah, it is. You’re always so in control. I like knowing you aren’t perfect all the time.” Staying close, Sara pulled Catherine’s menu off her legs and set it in the middle of the table. “Now, Lindsey wants French toast.”
A soft throat-clearing sounded from the other side of the table.
“Um…stuffed French toast,” Sara corrected. “I’m ordering something called garden stuffed crepes. What do you want?”
The question hung between them for a second before Catherine decided how to respond. Reaching for her menu (now clutched in Sara’s hands), she inched across the booth toward the other woman. “I think you know the answer to that,” she said throatily.
Sara’s eyes shot open – and then across the table to Lindsey. “Cath! What are you…” she hissed.
Smirking, Catherine interrupted the panicked question. “Like mother, like daughter, right, Linds?” She raised her voice on the last two words.
Head popping up from the color-it-yourself placemat she’d been decorating, Lindsey nodded. “Yeah. That’s how I knew Mommy would bring us here, Sara. She loves stuffed French toast.”
“Oh.” The tide of red crawling up Sara’s face and neck had Catherine cautiously scooting away. “I have one word for you, Cath.” Sara paused.
Maybe she’d gone too far. Over Sara’s head, Catherine saw the waitress finally approaching. Help was on the way.
“What?” she asked reluctantly, not convinced she really wanted to hear the answer.
Now it was Sara who leaned in close. Her warm breath caressed Catherine’s cheek. “Olivia.”
It was so unexpected, Catherine jerked slightly. Then she smacked Sara on the arm. “You aren’t ever going to let me live that down, are you?”
Sara didn’t have time to answer. Pad and pen at the ready, the waitress hovered at the end of the table.
***
Leaning back in the booth, Sara watched Lindsey order for herself and Catherine. Her voice seemed to disappear in the large, nearly empty restaurant.
It didn’t get lost for Sara, though.
Even with the table separating them, Sara was hyper-aware of every move and sound Lindsey made. She heard Lindsey’s sharp and irritated breath when the waitress asked her to repeat a part of the order…the squeak of the seat as Lindsey knelt up to lean closer to the waitress…
The noise drowned out even the rapid pounding of Sara’s heart. Pressing both hands flat on the table, Sara gritted her teeth. This was stupid. She was stupid. Lindsey hadn’t done anything scarier than hug her, and Sara was still almost running away in terror.
Lindsey must have felt Sara watching. She looked up with a huge smile before returning to her task of ordering.
That simple smile was enough.
Without saying a word, Sara forced her frozen muscles to move. Sliding out of the booth, she fled in search of the restroom. Sara burst into the tiny room and slammed the door behind her.
“Fuck!” Sara fought for breath, sucking in huge gulps of air through the tightness in her throat. If she’d had any oxygen to spare, she would have screamed. Why? Why did Lindsey do this to her?
There was no answer to her silent query.
Still struggling to breath, Sara closed her eyes. The darkness surrounded her, and she relaxed enough to try opening her eyes.
The bathroom was gone. It was dark and hot and it smelled like wool.
Shivering, Sara scooted farther into the closet and huddled in the far corner. Plastic-shrouded dresses and coats pressed close to her face. They made the already stifling closet nearly suffocating. Her panting breaths echoed, and Sara tried to silence them. Her father might hear…
Footsteps thudded in an irregular pattern outside her haven.
Sara stopped breathing altogether. He was so close. Pressing her face to her upraised knees, she tried to become invisible.
“Sara!” She bit back a scream as he shouted her name.
“Sara? Are you OK in there?” A sharp rap shattered the flashback.
Blinking dazedly in the bright fluorescent lights of the bathroom, Sara called out, “I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute, Cath.” Stumbling to the sink, she turned on the cold tap and thrust both hands under the water. Her hands and wrists went numb in seconds. Shivering convulsively, she filled her cupped palms and splashed water on her face.
Sara repeated the gesture several times and then scrubbed her hands over her cheeks. In the garish bathroom lighting, her face was a sickly yellow with bright red patches where her hands hand been.
It would have to do. Sara pushed away from the sink and turned off the water. She carefully dried her hands and face, even swiping one of the rough paper towels over the back of her neck to mop up the remaining sweat. Chest tight and aching, she strode to the door on stiff legs.
***
The door sprang open, and Catherine immediately straightened from her position against the wall. “Sara?”
“I told you I’d be right out, Cath,” Sara responded. Her voice was rough and low.
Noting Sara’s pallor, Catherine stepped closer and gently put her palm against Sara’s cheek. “Hey, I thought we put your butch tendencies away? I want to know – are you alright?”
For a second, Catherine didn’t think Sara would respond. Sara’s eyes darkened nearly to black, and her skin was cold under Catherine’s hand. “I’m OK,” she finally mumbled. “I think.” Reaching up, Sara grasped Catherine’s wrist. “I had a moment, though, that’s for sure.”
“Want me to get our food to go?” Not even breakfast with Lindsey was worth pushing Sara to her limits.
“No,” Sara said, sounding a little better. At least until they walked around a corner and saw Lindsey waving at them. Catherine heard the distinct sound of Sara’s breathing hitch. Sara never paused, though. She continued to stride toward the table and Catherine followed, hands fisted from the effort of not touching her.
Their food was on the table. “Did you get lost or something, Sara? That’s twice Mommy had to find you today,” Lindsey said with a headshake. “Sit down and eat before your food gets cold. Cold eggs are nasty.”
Any other time, Catherine would have laughed. Lindsey
sounded just like
Sara stood woodenly by the table as Catherine sidled by and slid in. Catherine felt her muscles twitch when Catherine brushed against her. When Sara dropped into the booth, she left at least a foot between then and stared at the table as she ate her omelet.
“Sara, are you sick again?” Lindsey asked. “You look kinda funny.”
“Lindsey!” Catherine protested immediately. “That wasn’t nice. Leave Sara alone and eat your breakfast.” She glanced at Sara in concern. Sara did look funny: pale, with sweat standing visibly on her face. “Sara and I have been up all night. You’d look funny, too, if you worked our crazy hours.”
Since they’d had similar conversations before, Lindsey thankfully let the matter drop. She went back to eating, smearing syrup and creamed cheese on her face in the process. “That’s always your excuse, Mommy. You need a new one.”
This time, Catherine couldn’t help laughing. “Sorry, honey. You may be right. I sound like a broken record. How about we watch a movie tonight before bedtime and you can help me with that?”
She got a head bob as Lindsey chewed another massive bite.
“I’ll bring the popcorn if I’m invited,” Sara said softly.
Catherine choked on her food and swiveled around in her booth. “Sara, enough is enough. You don’t have to…” she started to say. She was too slow.
“Can you add M&Ms, too? I like M&Ms with my popcorn,” Lindsey chirped.
Sara seemed to go even paler at that. “I can. Are you…are you sure you should eat chocolate and popcorn together? Isn’t that a violation of that food pyramid you mentioned at your aunt’s house?”
“You can’t follow that all the time, silly.” Lindsey frowned. “You need to talk to Mommy. She can explain how it works.”
Before Lindsey could continue her lecture, Catherine made a show of looking at her watch. “Honey, we need to hurry. It’s almost time for you to start school.” She grabbed the check from the table and bumped her hip against Sara’s. “Here, you take the check and my card. I’ll get some boxes for our food.” She hadn’t even managed a bite of her own, and Sara’s omelet was mostly intact.
“Nah, I got this one.” Sara took the paper bill from her hand and hurried off.
“Well, that was rude, huh?” Catherine asked Lindsey. “I offered to pay.” She
winked at Lindsey while keeping a close eye on Sara at the register. She wasn’t
convinced Sara was alright, no matter how much she pretended. Flagging down a busboy, Catherine managed to
finagle two Styrofoam containers and loaded up their uneaten breakfasts. “Let’s
go, Linds. I don’t want your teacher to give me dirty looks when I drop you off
after the bell.”
***
She managed to avoid that look by seconds as she wheeled the Tahoe into the lot. Lindsey hopped out and sprinted up to the door with a wave of her hand. “I’m sorry, Sara,” Catherine said as she watched Lindsey disappear inside.
“For what?” The question was automatic. Catherine had no doubt Sara knew exactly what she’d meant.
Letting the comment go for the moment, Catherine got back on the road and headed for home. The silence was uncomfortable. Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, Catherine tried to hold back her questions. She and Sara had made huge strides today. And - she looked across the SUV – Sara didn’t look up to anything more than huddling in the seat.
“I’ll be fine, you know.” Sara opened her eyes. “You don’t have to worry, Cath.”
“I’m a mother…and your friend. I’m going to worry, Sara. It’s a given.” Catherine did relax, though. Sara’s voice was stronger and her color was getting better. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Shaking her head, Sara mumbled through a yawn, “Nope. Just get me home and let me eat a bottle of painkiller. I’m going to have one hell of a headache as soon as I stop shaking.”
To be continued…