CHAPTER 31
Somehow, Sara’s comment didn’t make Catherine feel any better. “One bottle of pain killer coming up,” she promised. “Anything else? Hot water bottle? A pound of chocolate? A bedtime story?”
That got a tiny grin. “Sure, Cath. I’d love for you to read to me. I have an entire closet of journals I haven’t had a chance to go through. I bet you could make even the article on genotype frequencies interesting.”
“Of course I can, honey. That isn’t the goal, though. The goal is to put you to sleep.” Catherine divided her attention between the road and Sara. There was at least a little color creeping back into the other woman’s face. “Maybe I should skip the bedtime story for now – unless you have something guaranteed to put you out.”
A jaw-cracking yawn indicated Catherine was on the right track. “Probably a good plan,” Sara mumbled through a second, smaller yawn. “I’m definitely on the way to a huge crash. Just steer me to the couch; the bedroom’s too far.”
Stepping on the accelerator, Catherine hoped she managed to get Sara that far. From the increased slump in Sara’s form, Sara might try sleeping in the car. “Stay with me for a little longer, honey,” Catherine pleaded as she dodged a slow-moving car. “I was only joking about the gym earlier. I doubt I could drag you to the house without your cooperation.”
“’k.” Sara shoved away from the door and sat more or less erect. “Sorry, Cath. Didn’t mean to ruin your time with Lindsey.”
“It’s not about that, Sara,” Catherine was quick to protest. She reached over the console with her right hand and touched Sara’s thigh. “It’s about what this is doing to you. I’m worried.” She figured Sara would pull away at her admission; that didn’t keep her from making it, though.
The leg under her palm tightened. “I’m fine, Cath. Really.” Catherine stifled a sigh at the defensive protest. “Give me a little time. There haven’t been a lot of chances to hang out with kids before.”
Although she wasn’t convinced time was all Sara needed, Catherine didn’t push anymore. She’d done enough of that today. “Take all the time you need, Sara.” Stroking her hand up and down Sara’s leg, she turned the Tahoe onto a side street a few blocks from the house.
Sara didn’t respond.
Glancing her way, Catherine raised an eyebrow at the rapt way Sara stared at the hand resting on her thigh. “I didn’t think…I’m sorry.” She pulled her hand back, placing it on the wheel. “Personal space isn’t in my vocabulary.”
“Never would have guessed,” Sara mocked dryly. She grinned when Catherine glowered in her direction. “And you didn’t need to apologize. It felt good. Different. Most people keep their distance after I come out – like you can catch being a lesbian.”
Catherine had to laugh. “Honey, if being married to Eddie didn’t make me gay, nothing would.” The house was up ahead so she shelved the topic for later. “Home, sweet home. Let’s get you tucked in, Sara. Discussing my fantastic former husband can wait until we’re both wide awake and working our way through at least our second drink.”
More yawns punctuated the last few minutes of the drive. Lesbianism might not be catching, Catherine thought ruefully, but yawning was. She covered her mouth and blinked her suddenly watery eyes after a particularly jaw-popping example.
“Maybe you should take the couch,” Sara murmured. “You don’t look much more awake than me.”
That did it. Catherine clenched her teeth together against any more displays of fatigue and shook her head. “I’m fine. You’ve just been sucking up all the oxygen in here.” She parked the Tahoe to the sound of Sara’s chuckles. “Now, stay there until I come around to help. I don’t want you collapsing on the sidewalk; the neighbors would call the police.”
Not waiting for an objection to her order, Catherine hopped out of the vehicle and trotted to the passenger side.
Sara already had her door open and her legs dangled as she wearily climbed out of the seat. “I’d kick your ass for that comment…” She yawned. “If I wasn’t afraid you were right. Damn it!” Slamming her hand into the dash in frustration, Sara leaned against the door frame. “I hate this.”
It was another opportunity for questions – and Catherine let it pass. “You’ll hate it less once we drug you up and tuck you in.” Flinging Sara’s arm over her shoulder, Catherine levered the taller woman away from the SUV and closed the door.
The long pathway to the front door had never seemed longer.
Sara stumbled up the concrete steps and listed heavily in Catherine’s partial embrace. “Sorry,” she slurred. “The moving…hurts.”
Catherine spared a glance at Sara. She was ghost-white and her eyes were dark and glassy. “We’re almost there, honey.” Thank God. One more short rise and she propped Sara against the side of the house long enough to dig the keys from her purse. As soon as the door opened, Catherine wrapped her arms around Sara again and maneuvered them inside.
She was sweating almost as much as Sara when they dropped onto the couch in a tangle of arms and legs. “Sorry for the rough landing,” Catherine gasped out.
One of Sara’s hands patted at her arm, but she didn’t say anything. Now that she wasn’t upright, Sara huddled into the cushions – and Catherine – with her eyes closed.
“I’ll be right back with the Advil, Sara.” Catherine carefully wiggled out from beneath Sara and hurried to the bathroom down the hall. Whipping open the mirrored medicine cabinet, she grabbed the large bottle of pills. The lid popped off, and Catherine poured a couple of the brown tablets into her other palm.
How many should she take?
Sara’s pinched and pale features hovered in front of her eyes. She’d take the entire bottle. The loose pills and lid still clutched in her hand, Catherine spun and jogged back down the hall. She was almost to the living room when she realized Sara didn’t have anything with which to take the pills.
She swerved into the kitchen. One can of Diet Coke later, Catherine strode up to the couch. “Here, Sara. How many do you want?” If Sara asked for all of them, Catherine wasn’t sure she would argue. The lines of pain bracketing Sara’s mouth scared her.
Catherine didn’t really expect an answer, though, and she didn’t get one. A single hand shakily extended between them, palm up.
Pressing the loose Advil into Sara’s hand, Catherine set the soda on the coffee table and pried the lid off the bottle of pills. She poured two more out. “Here. Take four now.” When Sara tried to grab the bottle, Catherine made a decision and shook her head. Safety first. “No. You start with four. If those – and sleep – don’t help, I’ll take you to the ER.”
Sara glared wordlessly for a second before tossing back the painkiller.
“Good girl.” Catherine popped open the can of soda and held it against Sara’s lips. “As soon as you get this down, I’ll grab a blanket and some pillows.”
Taking a few gulps, Sara finally pulled away. “Thanks, Cath. I’ll be fine.” She wiggled on the couch until she was braced against the high back and closed her eyes. “Just need some sleep, I promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, Sara,” Catherine replied softly. She stayed on the couch until Sara’s soft and even breathing announced she’d fallen asleep.
***
Sara took an internal inventory when she woke up. She started at the top. Her head ached. Not the nausea-causing agony from earlier, though. Only an irritating and recurring dull throb. A few more Advil and the breakfast she’d skipped would help with that.
The rest of her was warm and comfortable. Taking a deep breath, she rolled over and carefully opened her eyes. Darkness sprinkled with a few rays of errant sunlight filled the living room.
Now the big test.
Sara gripped the back of the couch and sat up in slow motion. The room didn’t fade out; although, the pounding in her head did pick up its tempo. So far, so good. She tried not to hold her breath or flinch as she swung her legs around and set her feet on the floor.
This time, the room did spin. Not because of her headache. Because Catherine sat huddled under a blanket in the armchair across the room, sound asleep.
“Damn it, Cath, why didn’t you go upstairs?” Sara asked under her breath. Guilt settled like a rock in her stomach. Since Catherine was too busy snoring to answer, Sara stretched and then checked her watch. “Damn.” It was three-thirty. Lindsey and Nancy would be home in less than an hour. “Cath,” she said. Her voice was too rusty to have any volume. Frowning, Sara stood up on stiff legs and stumbled to Catherine’s side. “Hey, Cath.” She lightly shook the other woman’s shoulder. “Come on. You need to move upstairs if you want to sleep. Lindsey’ll be home soon.”
“Hmmm…” Catherine didn’t open her eyes as she wiggled and rolled over in the cramped space of the chair. Her sleep-tangled hair brushed Sara’s arm before her cheek came to rest against the same spot.
Sara stared at the top of Catherine’s head. This wasn’t happening. This was a dream. Her skin tingled and grew warm from Catherine’s body heat. Not a dream at all. “Cath,” Sara tried again. Her voice was softer than before. The need to wake Catherine warred with a sudden desire to remain right where she was.
She might have stood there until Lindsey flew through the door if Catherine hadn’t responded to her half-hearted second attempt.
Rubbing her face against Sara’s arm, Catherine sighed and then opened her eyes. “Good morning,” Catherine said in a sleep-roughened voice. “Did you sleep OK?”
That was it? That was all she wanted to know? Sara had stiffened the second Catherine began to move. Body responding to Catherine’s every move, Sara prayed she could talk normally. “Pretty good, yeah.” Her voice matched Catherine’s for roughness even though she’d been awake for several minutes. “It’s almost time for Linds to come home. I thought you might want to move upstairs before then.” Catherine hadn’t put any distance between them, and Sara started to edge back. She needed to get away before Catherine noticed her reaction.
“In a minute.” Catherine sat up and yawned. “Sit down first and talk to me.” She patted the arm of her chair. “Linds won’t freak if she finds up sleeping in the living room. Some days I fall asleep out here after cleaning the house.
“Um…” Sara stalled. Sitting that close was a bad idea – at least until she got control of her libido. “Why don’t I warm up our breakfasts and we can talk over food?” she asked, even though she wasn’t really hungry anymore.
Catherine pointed to an end table. “I don’t think the leftovers are fit to eat, Sara. I forgot to put them in the refrigerator when we got home.” Tilting her head, she peered at Sara with more alertness. “Is something wrong? Are you still feeling shaky?”
“No, of course not,” Sara replied immediately. It was the truth…mostly. “You surprised me, that’s all. One minute you’re drooling and the next you’re gripping my hand and talking.” She tried a smile even though her face felt stiff. “I’m amazed I didn’t scream.”
Catherine didn’t quite roll her eyes; it was close, though. “Uh huh. Well, I’m sorry if I scared you.” Sitting up and releasing Sara’s arm, she rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I could do with another day or two of sleep. All those double shifts are catching up to me.”
Her eyes tracking Catherine’s every movement, Sara’s head bobbed in time with Catherine’s fingers. “Yeah.”
The fingers parted and blue eyes peered up at her. “Are you sure you’re OK?”
“Fine.” Sara grimaced. Even she didn’t believe that. Stepping away from Catherine, she returned to sit on the couch. “I’m fine, Cath. I’ve got a slight headache, and you really did shock me when you woke up.” Just not for the reason she’d mentioned. Her arm tingled where Catherine’s face had rubbed. Taking a slow breath, Sara felt her heart rate drop. To give herself more time to recover her composure, she tilted her head at the stairs. “Why don’t you hit the shower first, and I’ll see about making us something to eat.”
Sara waited, shifting uneasily, as Catherine merely looked at her. “I’m not hungry,” Catherine finally answered.
“Oh.” Sara wasn’t either. Now she didn’t know what to say or do. The silence lengthened and grew awkward. “Um…maybe I’ll start with a shower. Get rid of the last of the headache.” And work on not sounding like an idiot. Sara stood swiftly and edged toward the hallway.
“Sara…” She stopped and turned to look at Catherine. “Honey, one day you’re going to have to quit running away.” Catherine’s comment was quiet, yet it hit Sara with the force of a speeding train. “I’m not out to hurt you or whatever you seem to expect me to do.”
From the way Catherine met Sara’s gaze, there was no doubt of her sincerity. That scared Sara more than spending a day alone with Lindsey. “I’m not running.” The protest was automatic – as was the next quick step into the hall. Sara rubbed her hands on her pant legs. “Come on, Cath. What do you want? I’ve only been in Vegas for five…six days.” It felt like longer.
“That’s just it, Sara.” Catherine climbed out of her chair and walked across the room. “I don’t want anything.” Smiling wryly, she corrected the statement. “Well, I do, but not what you’re thinking. There isn’t a price on staying here or on our friendship. I don’t expect you to tell me all your deep, dark secrets over a glass of wine tonight.”
Still not sure what exactly Catherine did want from her, Sara stood frozen in place. “When?” she asked. “Tomorrow? Next week?”
***
Catherine backed off. She sensed Sara’s rising panic. “Whenever you’re ready, Sara.” Veering away from the other woman, she headed for the kitchen. “Go take that shower already. I need coffee.” And a chance to regroup. Despite her promises not to push, she’d done just that.
Sara didn’t move.
“Did you change your mind about breakfast?” Catherine stopped on the threshold of the kitchen entrance.
A slow headshake answered her question.
“Well, you’re too big for me to carry to the tub. Go!” Pointing down the hallway, Catherine waited to see if Sara would wake from whatever thrall held her. Was this from the lingering headache – or from the intrusive questions and comments she’d made.
The order worked. Sara slid a step farther away. “I’m going. God, you can be so butch sometimes.”
Catherine barely had time to register Sara’s grin before she turned completely away and strode to the bathroom. “Butch, huh?” she asked the empty living room. “That’s one I haven’t been called before.” Feeling better about her fragile relationship with Sara, she completed her journey to the kitchen and started the coffeemaker.
The sound of the shower mixed with the whir of the appliance, and Catherine smiled. This afternoon was a far cry from the usual echoing silence. It would be very easy to get used to Sara filling the void - if Sara could ever get over her problems with Lindsey. And right now, that didn’t seem to be likely.
Pushing away from the counter, Catherine jogged up the stairs to her bedroom. While Sara was otherwise engaged and Lindsey was out of her hair… Her laptop was still in its carrying case. Catherine pulled it out. Docking it quickly, she connected to the Internet and typed: pedophobia.
The screen filled with links. Scanning them, Catherine discarded most as useless. Finally, she chose one and clicked on it. “An abnormal fear of children,” she read aloud. “I knew that already.” More searching was fruitless. Sara didn’t discriminate against Lindsey and she was fairly sure Sara didn’t actively dislike Lindsey.
In fact, Sara had seemed to like Lindsey – when she wasn’t suffering from migraines or breathing into a paper bag.
Her perusal of the information was cut short as the phone rang. Catherine closed the laptop with a snap. “Please be Lindsey,” she commented as she hurried back down the stairs. A sleepover at Nancy’s would keep Catherine from worrying about Sara during a family movie night.
“Hello,” Catherine said as she tucked the handset between her shoulder and ear. The now-brewed coffee beckoned.
She never made it to the counter, however. “Cath, it’s Gil. I need you and Sara at 8402 Bay Crest Drive.”
Had he missed their earlier refusal on overtime? “Damn it, Gil. We aren’t…” Catherine started to protest.
“We have a multiple homicide. Four dead. Everyone’s being called in, Cath. Everyone.” He paused and Catherine heard voices and the crackle of a police radio in the background. “Make sure when you get here you don’t talk to the press. The vultures are already getting in the way and spreading rumors. Don’t talk to the Sheriff either.”
Before Catherine could ask any questions, the line went dead. “I’m never answering the phone again,” she told the empty kitchen. “Never.” Even as she made her vow, Catherine was mentally preparing for the long shift ahead. Punching in a new number, she left a terse message on Nancy’s cell phone, relaying the bad news and a heartfelt apology for leaving Lindsey without her family time.
Lunches, thermoses of coffee… They lined up neatly on the counter in minutes.
“Are we taking Linds on a picnic?” Sara asked from the doorway. “I thought we were staying in and having popcorn and M&Ms?”
“We were.” Catherine piled the sandwiches into a thermal lunch bag and zipped it closed. “Then I made a mistake and answered the phone.” She shared a look with Sara. “Plans have changed.”
Pushing away from the doorframe, Sara strode into the kitchen. “I’ll finish up here. You hit the shower.” Catherine was fairly certain that was relief in Sara’s voice. She was probably happy that movie night was on hold.
“Thanks, I won’t be long.” Catherine touched Sara lightly on the shoulder as she headed for the stairs.
***
The red and blue flashing lights led Sara to the scene. She parked and waited for Catherine to pull up next to her. The second she got out of the SUV, Grissom was there to greet her.
“What took you guys so long? It’s been over an hour since I talked to Catherine.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Pointing to the house, he continued, “Sara, you’re with me. The tech I had taking my notes couldn’t handle the blood; I still haven’t completed my initial walkthrough.”
Not wanting to irritate him further, Sara simply nodded and trotted to the back of the Tahoe for her gear. Catherine was missing when she returned. “I’m ready.” Sara winced when Grissom turned without saying anything and stalked toward the house. Hefting her heavy kit, Sara sighed and followed him.
Grissom didn’t slow down, even after they entered the darkened house. Sara set her kit on the floor near the front door and grabbed a pen and notebook. “Did you get the first floor finished, Gris?” she called out. He’d disappeared into one of the rooms off the foyer.
“Yes.” As suddenly as he’d gone, Grissom came back. “I’d like to start at the top of the stairs…if you’re finally prepared?”
Sara held up her writing supplies. “Look, I already apologized for being late. Cath and I are still getting used to the whole living together thing. I left my car and gear at the lab, and we swung by to pick it up.” It took real effort to refrain from adding that he would have been equally irritated if Sara had shown up without her evidence kit.
“OK.” Grissom’s distracted and uncaring reply had Sara gritting her teeth. When he continued, the subject was all business. “There were some unusual patterns in the spatter.” He turned away and began climbing the stairs.
Unlocking her jaw with an effort, Sara followed him. There was blood everywhere when they reached the landing. “What the hell happened?” She’d been at multiple murder scenes before; this was unlike anything she’d seen. Scanning the hallway, she noticed a pair of feet protruding from one of the doorways.
“According to the EMTs who arrived first, we’ve got four bodies – all with multiple stabs wounds, and two survivors in cars outside.” Grissom moved slowly toward the body, carefully stepping around the blood on the floor.
“Shit.” Sara gripped her pen tighter. “No drag marks, Grissom. Whoever did this didn’t move the body.”
Kneeling next to the corpse, Grissom peered at the man. “Multiple stab wounds to the back and neck. Looks like a single-edged blade. Force to such a degree that the left and right internal jugular veins have been transected. Head faces west. Feet pointing east. Approximately two feet from the north wall, one foot from the south.”
“That’s some serious anger,” Sara commented as she scribbled down Grissom’s analysis. “I don’t think this is a robbery gone bad.” She dodged the blood spatter as they continued down the hallway. The rest of the house followed a similar pattern. Three more bodies, each with signs of similar knife wounds. Blood decorated the walls and floors in dark red waves in those rooms.
When they had completed the walkthrough, Sara returned outside, grim and silent. She stood on the porch and sucked in cleansing breaths. “What now? Should I go back in and do the photos or do you want me on the perimeter?”
“Hang on.” Grissom left her alone and wandered over to talk to Detective O’Riley. He was back in seconds. “The Sheriff’s on his way. I want the witnesses out of here before he can interfere with our questioning. Ride in the radio car with one of the girls.”
As usual, Grissom was overreacting. “Look, Gris,” Sara told him calmly, “I can clear the witnesses out – in the Tahoe. I don’t want to have to bum a ride back later. There is too much evidence and too much attention for us to waste that kind of time.” To bolster her point, she pointed at the swarm of reporters and cameramen standing on the other side of the police tape.
“Oh.” Grissom blinked in the direction her finger indicated. “OK. Just keep me posted on anything the girls say.” Turning away, he called out to Detective O’Riley. “I want the paramedics who responded to this scene back here. Give them a police escort if you have to, but I want them on the front lawn right now!” Without looking back, he hurried back into the house.
“Thanks for the help, Sara. I really appreciate the way you saved me from looking like an idiot,” Sara mumbled after his retreating form. With a sigh, she trotted down the stairs to the front walk. Getting mad at Grissom never did any good. He was too clueless to even notice the anger. Sara strode over to the first cruiser and bent down. A wide-eyed and pale teenager stared back at her.
“Are…are you going to take me to my sister now?” Clutching a blanket around her shoulders, the young girl scooted across the molded plastic seat toward Sara. “She has to be so scared.”
Sara edged back a step. “Ah… I don’t know about your sister. She’s in another car. Why don’t you stay here for a minute, and I’ll be right back.” Flashing what she hoped was a reassuring smile, Sara stood up. She looked over the top of the car. Clumps of deputies milled around. A few rushed between the house and other cars or talked with people Sara assumed were neighbors.
Finally, she caught sight of Catherine next to another radio car. In her arms was a small girl also wrapped in a blanket and staring straight at Sara.
***
“Hey, sweetie,” Catherine cooed. “Are you ready to go for a ride? We can pick up something to eat and then get you all cleaned off.” She hoped it would get a reaction. The poor waif in her arms had been eerily silent the entire time Catherine had been there. Nothing. Those wide blue eyes simply stared sightlessly past Catherine at…something. Turning her head, Catherine followed the girl’s line of sight. She jerked in surprise when that line led straight to Sara.
The other woman was already striding their way. “Cath! I’m about to leave with the older girl. Any chance you could take the little one to the hospital? Grissom’s panicking because the Sheriff’s on the way.” Sara grimaced as she approached. “I’d take them both, except…”
The distance Sara left between them was apparent. Catherine nodded slowly. “Sure.” She didn’t want to remind Sara of her earlier reaction to Lindsey, and there was an actual, job-related reason the two girls couldn’t travel together. “Brenda and I will go in my SUV and I’ll find you there.”
“Thanks.” Sara smiled without ever looking closely at Brenda and backed up. “I’ll see you…two at the hospital.”
Hugging Brenda tighter, Catherine watched Sara flee back across the brightly lit yard. She was surprised when little arms wrapped around her neck and returned the embrace. “You know what, Brenda? I think you and Sara are a lot alike. Cute, quiet, and very mysterious.” She placed a soft kiss on the side of Brenda’s face and then carried her to the Tahoe. “The food and hot bath have to wait a bit. Think you can hold out a little longer?”
Eyes still wide, Brenda answered with a small nod.
“Good girl.” Unable to resist, Catherine kissed the pale face again before closing the passenger door and trotting around to the driver’s side. “I have a daughter about your age, Brenda. She’s always bugging me to show her the lights and sirens.” Starting the car, Catherine began the dangerous task of backing up and maneuvering the maze of radio cars, media vans, and people. “I don’t normally listen to that. You, though… You’re a special case. Would you like me to turn on the lights and sirens?”
There was no answer, and Catherine risked looking away from the rearview mirror long enough to check on Brenda. Leaning against the passenger-side window, Brenda huddled into her blanket with her eyes closed.
It didn’t matter what Brenda wanted. Catherine stomped on the gas pedal and slapped the button on the dash. The SUV surged forward a split second before an ear-piercing wail cut through the night. They were getting to the hospital as quickly as Catherine could safely manage.
The traffic was mercifully lighter than normal. With the addition of the emergency lights, Catherine made good time. She pulled into Sunrise Medical Center and parked under the Emergency Room overhang. Without the constant whoop of the sirens, the silence in the interior of the car was stifling. The click of her seatbelt exploded through the small space, and Catherine winced at the noise.
Brenda hadn’t moved during the entire ride. She waited in the same pose until Catherine made the trip around the SUV and opened the passenger-side door. “OK, honey. It’s time to get you all checked out.” Catherine extended her arms, and Brenda apathetically climbed into them. “It’ll be all right,” Catherine said. She wasn’t sure if the reassurance was for Brenda – or herself.
***
From the far end of the large exam room, Catherine watched a nurse gently rub a washcloth over Brenda’s arm. “You’re sure she’s OK?” she asked. “I have a daughter, and… Her behavior wasn’t normal.”
The doctor snorted. “Ms. Willows, if your daughter had just seen you killed, I think she might act very much like Brenda.” The young doctor shoved his hands in the pockets of his rumpled lab coat. “There is nothing physically wrong with her.”
Frowning, Catherine stared at the little girl. “It’s more than simple shock.” She tried to explain the unease coiling through her. “I’ve been an investigator a long time; I know shock when I see it. This was…” Breaking off, she grimaced in frustration.
“I’m sorry. There wasn’t anything we found, Ms. Willows.” With a polite, yet impatient, nod, the doctor opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
“Thanks,” Catherine said then finished more softly, “for nothing.” If Brenda’s injuries weren’t physical, that left one option. Checking her watch, Catherine calculated the amount of time they’d been in the hospital. Five hours. Even the social worker had had time to fill out the proper paperwork and make the drive across town. Keeping her voice soothing, Catherine called across the room. “Brenda?”
The blonde head whipped around, and dull blue eyes stared at Catherine.
“I need to step out, but I’ll be right here.” Catherine pointed through the curtained window on the door. “If you need me, I promise I won’t be far away.” She waited until she received a slight nod from Brenda and then slipped out.
The hallway was lined with chairs, most of them empty. Here and there, groups of people huddled together as they waited for news from one of the many doctors and nurses hurrying up and down the gleaming corridor. No one looked in her direction, and not one of the people nearby seemed official enough to be from Family Services.
Catherine reached for the radio clipped to her belt. Brenda needed someplace safe to spend the rest of the night. Before she could make the call, though, her cell phone rang.
***
Sara got a lot of stares as she leaned against the wall near the bathrooms. Ignoring them, she pulled her cell phone out of a pocket and dialed Catherine’s number. She and Grissom had missed the evidence. They hadn’t seen…
She couldn’t think of that now or Sara knew she’d be back in the bathroom vomiting into the sink again.
Concentrating on the soft ring in her ear, Sara prayed Catherine was still in the hospital and would answer her phone. They had to get the evidence.
“Sara?” Catherine’s voice replaced the ring, and Sara relaxed fractionally.
“Hey, Cath.” Sara’s throat hurt as she croaked the words out. “Are you at the hospital?” Say yes, she pleaded silently. “If not, you need to turn around.”
There was a moment of silence. “We’re here. I’m waiting for the social worker,” Catherine answered. “Are you OK? You sound funny.” Even on the phone, Catherine’s concern came over loud and clear.
“I talked with Tina. The older girl,” Sara explained, avoiding any comment about her own wellbeing. “She said… I…” Stumbling over the words, Sara fought to keep from breaking down. This wasn’t the time or place for that. She had a job to do. Taking a different tack, she tried again. “Did the doctor’s find wrong anything with Brenda? Was she hurt?”
“Sara…” Catherine wasn’t going to accept the change in subject. Sara bit her lip and willed the other woman back on track. “No,” she finally responded. “Brenda doesn’t have so much as a scratch. Of course, she hasn’t said a word and she jumps at every sound, but she’s got a clean bill of health.”
Nausea threatened again. Sara swallowed convulsively against the bile churning in her stomach. “Tell them to look again.” Her voice rose and grew urgent. “Tell them to use a UV lens and take pictures.” She couldn’t force herself to give any more details; Catherine had surely investigated other crimes with children. She’d understand. Without offering a goodbye, Sara snapped the cell phone closed.
Brenda was just the first link. Sara needed more if she was going to prove what had actually happened in the house on Baycrest. Pushing away from the wall, she rubbed both hands over her face. She needed to get Tina settled into the group home and then head to the lab. The crime scene photos would be there.
The mental to do list helped. Sara felt the band around her chest loosen. Striding across the hall, she stepped into the exam room and smiled grimly at Tina. “Your sister’s fine. My coworker is with her, and they’re waiting for a social worker.”
“I want to see her.” Tina had been repeating that since they’d arrived at the hospital.
Very softly, Sara replied, “I know you do. I’m sorry; we have to wait until after the detectives question both of you. Once that’s taken care of, I’m sure you’ll be able to see Brenda.”
The tears streaking Tina’s face made it hard for Sara to stay firm. “Ms. Sidle, please. I have to see her. She’s all I have left.”
Woodenly shaking her head, Sara refused. “Get your things. I’ll take you to the group home. You need to get some sleep before talking to the police.”
The drive to the group home suggested by Family Services was quiet. Sara’s fingers ached from the tight grip she had on the steering wheel. This wasn’t a comfortable, soothing silence. Tina stared holes through the side of Sara’s head, and the sound of all her unspoken words rang in Sara’s ears.
It was a relief to pull into the brightly lit parking lot and turn off the engine. “We’re here,” Sara announced with forced cheer. “It looks like they’re waiting for us.” She pointed toward the front door, where a dark form hovered in the entryway.
“If I go inside, will you let me see Brenda in the morning?” Tina wasn’t playing along.
“Look…” Turning in her seat, Sara met Tina’s piercing eyes. “I can’t promise you anything. If I did, I’d be lying, and I really don’t want to do that. If you and Brenda give your statements to the police in the morning, and they clear it with Family Services, you’ll be able to see her.”
If anything, Sara’s words only increased Tina’s tension. “So everything depends on what the police find?”
It was an over simplification – and Sara latched onto it eagerly. “Sure.” She didn’t add that the police would only work off of leads provided by evidence she and the rest of Grissom’s team discovered. “Now, come on. You need to get inside, and I have to get back to work.” Emotion leaked out as she continued. “I want to make sure you and Brenda are safe and that you can go home together soon.”
That emotion seemed to help. Tina slowly reached for the door handle. “OK.” The door popped open. “Ms. Sidle.” The words dragged out of Tina as if she fought to keep each one inside. “Brenda wasn’t…hurt, was she?”
“No,” Sara responded immediately and forcefully. “In fact, when I talked with my co-worker, the doctor didn’t find anything physically wrong with her.” She shared a long look with Tina. “Nothing physical,” she repeated.
“Good.” For the first time that night, a small smile snuck onto Tina’s face. “That’s good.”
Sara didn’t want to foster too much hope in Tina. “We’re still looking for other evidence. Sometimes…sometimes the injuries aren’t on the surface.” Her warning was soft yet sober. “I bet you already know that.”
Jumping out of the Tahoe, Tina avoided an answer.
Following suit, Sara got out as well and walked toward the door a half-step behind Tina. A woman wrapped in a housecoat waited at the entrance. “You must be Tina!” She smiled too brightly and stepped forward as if to hug Tina.
Tina’s body stiffened visibly and Sara rushed to intercede. “Hi. I’m Sara Sidle, from the crime lab. Tina hasn’t really had a chance to rest; we’ve had her at the hospital. Do you think we can skip some of the usual paperwork until tomorrow? I know the detective in charge of the case will be here early to talk with her.” She nimbly slipped between Tina and the other woman.
“Of course.” The beaming smile disappeared as the woman pushed the door wide to let them in. “I’m sorry. We don’t normally… I mean…” She floundered and then simply hurried ahead to show Sara and Tina the way to the correct room.
Sara stayed only long enough to make sure Tina wouldn’t bolt the second she left for the lab. When they had Tina’s few possessions hanging in the closet, it was time to go. Sara maneuvered Tina away from their hostess and kept her voice low. “Get some sleep, Tina. I wasn’t lying when I said Captain Brass would be here early.” It was likely he’d be here in only a few hours, given the already late time. “And, Tina?”
“Yes?” Sara could see the wariness in Tina’s shadowed eyes.
“When Brass asks, you need to tell him what really happened in that house.” With a wave of her hand, Sara took her leave.
***
Holding the clunky camera, Catherine smiled down at Brenda. “We have to take some pictures now, Brenda. This is a special camera, though.”
Brenda nodded solemnly and watched Catherine with shadowed eyes.
“Well, this camera takes pictures of things under your skin. Things no one else can see.” Trying to reassure the pale and silent little girl, Catherine stepped back. “How about I take a picture of me first?”
One again, Brenda simply nodded.
“Good,” Catherine said, feeling as if she were reading from a very bad script. She extended her right arm and aimed the camera at it with her left. A soft whir and a sharp click announced the camera at work. “See? It didn’t hurt at all.” Looking back at Brenda, Catherine asked, “Is it OK if I take some pictures of you?”
Two skinny arms lifted out.
“Thank you, honey.” Catherine needed pictures of other parts of Brenda’s body. The arms, though, were a start. She snapped several shots of Brenda’s arms before setting the camera on the exam table next to Brenda. As unthreateningly as possible, Catherine reached out and gripped the shoulders of Brenda’s hospital gown. Keeping eye contact and holding her breath, she drew the thin material down until it bunched at Brenda’s chest. “Just a few more; I promise.”
The camera whirred and clicked a dozen more times as Catherine photographed Brenda’s chest and back. She had just finished redressing Brenda when a soft knock sounded at the door. Both of them jumped and looked in that direction.
After a few seconds, the door crept open and a head appeared in the gap. “Ms. Willows? I’m Lauren Holmes. I’m here to pick up Brenda.” The words were accompanied by a polite smile.
Returning the smile without moving so much as an inch, Catherine responded, “There are a few more details I need to take care of. If you’d like to have a seat in the hallway, I’ll bring Brenda to you when we’re all finished.” She stopped and looked down when a small, chilled hand slipped into hers and latched onto her fingers. That did it. The mother in Catherine roared to life. Professional detachment could go to hell. Without thinking, Catherine picked Brenda up and cradled her against her hip. “One more stop, honey, and then I’ll get you the biggest hamburger you’ve ever seen.”
Brenda’s only answer was to twine her arms around Catherine’s neck and lay her head trustingly on Catherine’s shoulder.
“Ms. Willows, I’m sorry. You can’t do that. Brenda has to come with me.” Ms. Holmes gripped the door handle and blocked their exit from the room. “You aren’t…”
“…letting you take her,” Catherine interrupted smoothly. “Brenda is scheduled to speak with Dr. Davies, up on five.”
The comment stunned the other woman enough that Catherine was able to gently move her out of the way. “Five? Why wasn’t I told Brenda needed to be examined by a…”
Once again, Catherine refused to let Ms. Holmes finish her sentence. “We only made the appointment an hour ago. I’m sorry you didn’t get the message.” She strode down the hallway with Holmes trotting at her elbow. “New evidence came to light.” Catherine suspected there would be even more once the photographs she’d taken were developed.
“I see.” The aggression faded from Ms. Holmes’ voice. It was replaced with determination and a sympathetic edge. “What do you need from me? I wasn’t expecting this so I don’t have the documentation with me; however, I can have it faxed here in minutes.”
Sensing she might have an advocate, Catherine slowed her rapid pace and glanced down. “Get the paperwork. The doctor…I’ve worked with her on other cases. She’s good. If there’s anything to find, we need to make sure it’s admissible.” Her stomach twisted at the thought of what they might find, and Catherine’s arms tightened around Brenda as they took the elevator to the hospital’s fifth floor.
Because of the late hour, there weren’t many people in the hallway near the staff psychiatrists’ offices. In fact, other than a few scrub-clad orderlies, Catherine, Brenda, and Lauren were the only people on the floor. Catherine tapped softly on the outer door of the doctor’s suite and then pushed it open. “Trish?”
“Catherine, good morning.” Trish Davies, white coat sharply pressed at even this hour, got up from behind her receptionist’s desk and strode forward. “I was starting to wonder if you’d changed your mind.” She smiled at Catherine as her eyes slid over Brenda in a quick examination.
Catching Trish’s frown, Catherine jiggled Brenda in her arms. “Hey, honey. Can you say hello to Dr. Davies? She’s the last stop on the Willows’ Train before that burger.”
The tiny head on her shoulder lifted wearily. Brenda watched Trish carefully – and didn’t say a word.
That didn’t faze Trish. “It’s nice to meet you, Brenda,” she said with what seemed to be genuine cheer. “Why don’t we go into the other room? I have lots of toys and things for you to play with while we talk.” Trish stepped away from Catherine and gestured to a closed door.
Brenda followed Trish’s arm and appeared more interested than she had all night. Catherine took that as her cue and gently set the little girl on the floor. “Go on, honey. Lauren and I will be right out here if you need us.” She caught Trish’s slightly tilted head and looked in that direction. Another door, well disguised by potted plants and bookcases, sat farther along the same wall. Nodding her understanding, Catherine gave Brenda a light push Trish’s way. “Remember, as soon as we’re finished here…”
A small smile crept across Brenda’s face. “Burgers,” she said quietly.
It was like winning the lottery. Catherine beamed back. “That’s right. Burgers.” She watched Brenda follow Trish into the other room and then turned to Lauren. “Get the paperwork.” The momentary happiness after Brenda’s comment faded. Deep inside, Catherine knew…somehow, she knew they weren’t going to like what Brenda had to tell Trish. “I’ll be in the observation room when it comes in.”
***
Through the one-way mirror, Catherine tensely watched Brenda and Trish at the short table in the playroom. Both figures were drawing on large pieces of pink paper with crayons. Trish paused and held hers up. “Wow. I hate to say this, Brenda, but you draw better than I do. You can’t even tell this is supposed to be the pony I had when I was your age.”
Trish waited while Brenda looked at her outstretched drawing. Catherine examined it, too. From her vantage point, the pony looked like a brown oval with spider legs sticking out at odd angles.
“Yours, though,” Trish continued after setting her drawing back onto the table. “I can see you’ve drawn your pet.”
Biting back a smile, Catherine recognized the ploy. Trish had no idea what Brenda had drawn; she was simply counting on it being something as normal as the family pet.
“Can you tell me about it?” Trish encouraged. “What’s its name?”
The tranquility of the scene shattered when Brenda clearly announced, “Buffalo,” and began frantically scribbling across her picture with the crayon in her hand.
Catherine’s first instinct was to charge into the room and pull Brenda into her arms. She resisted that urge. This wasn’t her own daughter; Brenda was a probable witness to a murder. Her actions were evidence. Throat tight, Catherine watched Trish calmly reach across and place her hand over Brenda’s.
“Don’t do that; it was a pretty picture. I wanted to hang it in my art gallery.” Pointing to the various other childish drawings mounted haphazardly around the room, Trish smiled. “How about I get you another piece of paper and you do another one for me?”
Brenda’s only response was a listless shrug. Her frenzied reaction to Trish’s earlier question seemed to have drained the last spark of life from her.
Ignoring that, Trish hopped up – expertly freeing Brenda’s ruined artwork from the little girl’s grasp. “Thank you. Some of the ones I have now are really old. I could use a new picture.” Tucking the first example under her arm, Trish took another large sheet of paper off a side table and placed it in front of Brenda. “Go ahead and get started, Brenda. I need to talk to Catherine and then you two can get that burger.”
As Trish hurried for the inconspicuous door leading to Catherine’s location in the observation room, Catherine yanked her cell phone from her belt. She stabbed the buttons with barely contained anger and paced as she waited for Grissom to answer.
“Grissom.” His voice was brusque and impatient. “Catherine, where are you? Family Services should have been there a while ago. I need you back at the lab.”
Catherine’s teeth ground so hard that her jaw ached. She held one hand up to hold off Trish and snapped into the phone. “I was tracking down a lead, Gil. That is my job…I thought.” A lead. Catherine looked through the mirror in front of her and stared at the slumped and exhausted “lead” in the other room.
There was a startled silence on the other end of the line.
“We may have gotten the motive for the murders wrong,” Catherine continued before Grissom could recover. “There’s a good possibility they had nothing to do with robbery.” She took a deep breath and leaned her head against the glass. “I’m with a child psychologist at the hospital.” The explanation was oblique, yet Catherine was sure Grissom would be able to connect the dots.
Grissom’s shocked, “Cath,” drew a reluctant smile from Catherine.
“Don’t worry, Gil. I’ve got a warrant. The Family Services agent is here with me.” It wasn’t a lie. Not really. Lauren was in the outer office…getting the warrant. “Let me finish up with the doctor and get all of the information. Brenda – the little girl – had a really strong reaction to the word ‘buffalo.’”
***
Sara keyed the mic on her radio. “Dispatch, this is P44. Is Supervisor Grissom on site?”
There was a moment of silence broken only by road noise as Sara headed for the lab. “Affirmative, P44. Supervisor Grissom is on site. Would you like me to put you through?”
Yes. Sara didn’t say that, however. An unsecured radio was not her first choice for this conversation. “I’ll give him a call on my cell. Thanks. P44 out.” Tossing the radio carelessly into the passenger seat, Sara stepped on the accelerator and the Tahoe surged forward. At the same time, she pulled her cell phone from her belt and flipped it open.
“Grissom.” He wasted no time on pleasantries.
Neither did Sara. “I dropped the older Collins girl off at the group home. I’m headed your way. I want a closer look at the crime scene photos. Are they ready?”
“Hang on. Let me check.” Grissom must have placed his hand over the phone. Sara could hear his muffled voice talking to someone in the background. “Yes. Did the girl say something? What are we looking for?”
That was the problem. Sara wasn’t completely sure. Telling Grissom anything at this point would do no good. “Just have the photos waiting for me in my office.” For once, Sara didn’t smile or chuckle at the reference to the small lab she’d co-opted as her favorite workspace. The light ahead turned red, and Sara brought the SUV to an impatient halt. “Have you talked to Catherine? Has she gotten anything out of the little girl?”
There was more animation in Grissom’s voice when he replied. “She didn’t give me a lot of details. However, she had Brenda with a child psychologist. Family Services got a warrant. It looks like we may have something from that end.”
Sara’s hand tightened around her cell phone. Grissom didn’t get it. Or…he got it and was too clueless to care. “Anything else?” Had Catherine gotten the UV photos?
“Apparently the little girl has a thing for buffalos.” Sara clearly recognized Grissom’s confusion. “Look, I need to go. Nick and Warrick are bringing in the rest of the evidence, and O’Riley’s waiting on warrants.”
“Right. Make sure those photos are ready, Gris.” Sara disconnected the call. Warrants meant that there was a suspect. Cursing under her breath, she prayed that whoever they brought in was prepared to tell the truth. Brenda and Tina needed someone to tell the truth or the system would destroy them both.
By the time she parked in front of the lab, a headache pounded behind her eyes. Sara ignored it. She didn’t have the luxury of tossing back a handful of painkiller and napping on the couch in Grissom’s office. Striding into the brightly lit and frenetically busy building, Sara waved at the receptionist. “Messages?”
Looking harried, Judy shook her head. “No, Ms. Sidle.”
That was one piece of good news. “Great. Can you send CSI Willows to the small lab when she comes in?” They needed to talk. Sara wanted to know more about Brenda’s reactions and anything Catherine had found in the photos.
“Sure, I can…” Judy’s comment was cut off by the beep of the switchboard.
Sara waved again and left her to answer. She’d accomplished what she’d needed. The lab – and the crime scene photos – beckoned. Dodging the clusters of techs and deputies in the hallway, Sara made a beeline for the small corner lab. She smiled in satisfaction when she spotted the envelopes of pictures stacked on the work table. Perfect.
Not even bothering to remove her vest or hat, Sara dropped onto the tall stool and grabbed the first envelop. Glossy images of horror spilled out. Pushing down the automatic sickness at the gruesome stills, Sara took a loop and a magnifying glass from a drawer and bent over the first photo.
She was still there, slowly making her way through the photos, when Catherine tapped on the door frame. “Judy said you wanted to see me?”
“Yeah.” Wincing at the protesting muscles in her back and neck, Sara straightened. “Not for the reason I thought, though. Take a look at these.” She waved a hand at the mess on the table. “Tell me what you see.”
Catherine didn’t ask any questions. She simply handed Sara a grease-stained bag from a local fast food restaurant and grabbed the first photo. “What am I supposed to see?” she murmured.
Fries in hand, Sara didn’t answer directly. “I want your opinion, Cath.”
“Whoever did this was a sick bastard,” Catherine said. The grim, pinched look on her face indicated she wasn’t trying to be funny. “Hmm…I heard on the way back the Sheriff is pitching a cult theme to the media. Stirring up a frenzy already.”
Sara watched Catherine examine the evidence and finished off the cold, soggy fries.
“I studied pictures of the Manson Murders. This isn’t butter – it’s imitation.” Catherine held up a photo of a blood swirl that had been left on the floor next to Mr. Collins. “You obviously think something’s off, too. What’s your take?”
The fries had been a mistake. Hunger faded into a sick, leaden feeling exacerbated by the greasy fried potatoes. Tossing the now-empty bag into a trash can, Sara walked to the lab table. “I thought, at first, that whoever committed the murders killed the mother first.” She pointed to a photo showing the bloody and carved body of Mrs. Collins.
“It would explain why the blood is confined to the bed and the floor underneath it.” Catherine pressed the loop to the next photo in the pile. “The husband wakes up. Sees his wife and runs to protect the kids.” The magnifying tool moved over the picture as Catherine continued. “The killer must have nicked him on the way and he eventually gave his life to save Brenda.”
The loop stopped and reversed direction.
Catherine raised disbelieving eyes to Sara. “Except… There isn’t enough blood for that.”
***
Her words drew a grim smile from Sara. “Yeah. It’s a hole, and we need to fill in the gaps.” She sat down on a stool across from Catherine, looking frighteningly pale in the harsh lights of the lab. “If we work from the scene and fan out whoever was left alive at the scene…”
“Damn.” Catherine set the loop down and stared at Sara. “Oh, damn.” This case kept getting more and more horrific.
“The first suspect is Tina.” Sara confirmed Catherine’s fears.
Holding up a few of the photos, Catherine shook her head. “She didn’t do this on her own, Sara. There’s no way.” She tossed the handful back on the table. “And after what I heard from Trish Davies over at Sunrise, she may have had a good reason for wanting Daddy Dearest dead.”
If anything, the comment leeched even more color from Sara’s face. “Maybe.”
Catherine came part-way off the stool. “What?” Her voice rose. “You were the one who told me to take the UV shots of Brenda. You at least suspected the abuse. Maybe? That bastard was abusing Brenda.”
“Yes, he was.” Sara sounded completely certain of that. “I think he did the same thing to Tina.”
The stool kept Catherine from sprawling unceremoniously on the floor as her knees failed. “She told you? You found something else?” she asked in a rapid fire manner.
“No.” There was something in Sara’s voice. Catherine straightened slowly and kept her eyes locked on the other woman. “No, Tina didn’t say anything about her family.” Reaching out, Sara plucked a photo off the table and peered at it without the aid of the loop or magnifying glass. “I…”
When Sara trailed off, Catherine reached across the table. “Sara?” She took Sara’s hands in her own. “If Tina didn’t say anything, how did you know I should check Brenda for bruising under her skin?” Her mind was working rapidly, trying to put the clues together.
Eyes shadowed, Sara glanced up at Catherine before staring fixedly at their joined hands. “I don’t have any evidence. I just…I just knew, OK? That’s why it’s so important we find the proof in these photos, Cath. We have to find the evidence!”