Disclaimer: I don't own Grissom, worse luck, Catherine or any of the gang. I just play in their sandbox. Dedication: Thanks to AbyKitten for being patient and betaing and vividlyblue1 for giving me back my muse!
Chapter 7
Catherine Willows was far from happy. Even though the DNA results had come back as a match for the brother, Brass still seemed no nearer finding him now than he had seventy hours ago and they were running out of time again. She didn't want to think what would happen to Gil Grissom if they didn't have the answers his abductor wanted.
The rest of the team had reanalysed everything the dayshift had left them from the original crime. Darla Jefferson had been twenty-eight years old when she died, she and her husband Liam had been active members in the deaf community and were very well liked. The couple had just made the decision to start trying for a family after years of debate, finally deciding it was worth the risk of having a hearing impaired child.
The night of the murder their had been a small party at the Jefferson's home. It had been an intimate affair and hadn't gone on very late. The last person to see Darla alive had been Joseph Anderson. Liam Jefferson had left to give one of their guests a ride home and Darla had been saying goodbye to Anderson as he backed the car out of the drive way. When he returned forty minutes later Anderson was nowhere to be seen and Darla was lying in a pool of blood in the main living room, dead before her husband even reached her.
The prosecutor had insinuated that Darla and Joseph had been having an affair, which the husband and Anderson had both said was preposterous, one that Darla had decided to end when she and her husband had decided to start their family, but Anderson had reacted with violence at the thought of losing her once more to Liam Jefferson.
Anderson had always proclaimed his innocence, saying he had been home and in bed by the time he heard of the murder and hadn't seen anyone hanging around when he'd left the Jefferson house.
The jury had convicted on the skimpiest of evidence and Joseph Anderson had been sentence to death. His brother had stood by him, attending every minute of the trial and stating his brother could never kill anyone; he just wasn't that type of person.
Now Catherine understood the brothers vehemence, for the man had known all along that his brother was innocent, but obviously hadn't loved his brother enough to come forward and save him from the death penalty. She wondered if he would have if the man had just been given a prison sentence.
"Cath!" a voice rang out behind her and she turned to see Jim Brass walking toward her, "I think we might just have caught a break," the smile on his face showed how confident he was.
"How? What?" she asked impatiently, turning to meet him half way down the corridor.
"Uniform managed to scare up a friend of David Anderson's and they think he might be house sitting for a colleague." He seemed quite certain that this lead was going to pan out.
"So what's the next step?" Catherine asked walking with the homicide detective to the front door and the unmarked Taurus.
"I'm going to visit his work again and see if this colleague has left a contact number, or if the boss will give me an address for his residence so we can go check on this guy." He slammed the car into drive and headed out. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Nick Stokes answered his cell phone on the third ring, "Stokes."
Warrick Brown and Sara Sidle stood waiting patiently until the man finished his conversation; from the look on his face he had received some good news.
"That's great, Catherine," the young Texan exclaimed, "right we'll go there now and wait on the phone call, hopefully this will buy Grissom some time."
He signalled for his two colleagues to follow him as he headed for Brass' office filling them in on their way. "Catherine and Brass are making their way to a house out in Henderson," he told them a smile creeping onto his face, "apparently Anderson is house sitting out there and they've gone to bring him in for interrogation."
Warrick let out a whoop of delight. "Surely this will be enough to stop Griss' abductor doing any more damage? It must be what he wanted, and now it's only a matter of time." Sara grinned her agreement, but they had to wait and see what the phone call would bring. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Gil Grissom tried to stay calm and hide the panic he was feeling as his abductor re-entered his prison. He knew if the man was back again that time was up, and he wasn't sure if his team could have succeeded in their efforts to find the culprit this man wanted arrested.
*It's time, * his captor signed, he seemed defeated as if he didn't expect to learn anything he didn't already know. That fact alone scared Grissom. If this man had given up hope would he bother to keep the criminalists alive?
*What happens next? * Grissom asked trying to engage the man in conversation, trying to make the angry man see him as a live human being and not just some bargaining chip.
*That all depends on your team and what they've achieved doesn't it? * The man answered.
Grissom sighed this was not going well and he didn't know if he could take much more of the medicine this man dished out. *Will you at least tell me your name? If you're going to kill me, can I know that much before I go? *
The man gave a weak, halfhearted smile and signed *my name is Liam Jefferson and your team is re-examining the murder of my wife Darla. *
'So,' thought Grissom, 'I was right he is the husband.' *Why are you so certain that the man convicted of the crime didn't do it? *
Laughing almost hysterically the other man signed back, *Because David Anderson stood in my own home not eight weeks ago and all but announced the fact that he had killed my wife. If he couldn't have her no one would, the man is insane. *
His heart felt as if it had dropped into his boots. No wonder the man had sought out an alternative source of justice. To go all through the trial and think that the right person is finally paying for what they did, and then find out almost a year later that the person is innocent and someone else is boasting of committing the murder, it must have been soul destroying for this man.
*It's time to make your next call. * The man informed him and Grissom could think of nothing to say that would delay it.
"Brass' office," he heard Nick Stokes say, where was Jim? Surely this was important enough for him to be there?
"Nick, its Grissom put me on the speaker," he said this and watched the reaction of his captor. Always before it had been the homicide detective on the other end of the phone and Jefferson didn't seem too happy to find him missing either. "Where's Brass?" he asked ignoring the script and risking personal injury.
"The Captain and Catherine are on their way to Henderson," Nick informed him, "David Anderson is house sitting for a coupled named Steadman and they've gone to bring him in," he couldn't help but hear the elation in the younger man's voice. "We've done it Griss," he all but crowed, "we've finally nailed the right man and Brass is going to arrest him, does that buy us your release?"
Before Grissom could reply the microphone was yanked out of his hand and the line cut. Jefferson cried a soundless cry of rage and, leaving Grissom where he sat, stormed out of the hut locking the door behind him. Grissom didn't know what was going on but he didn't think it could be anything good. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
"Damn!" Nick exclaimed as the line went dead. "What does that mean?" both his colleagues shook their heads in confusion.
"You'd better get Brass on the phone and tell him what happened," Warrick instructed him, "Catherine's not going to like this."
That, thought Nick and Sara, was the understatement of the decade. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
"Brass," the curmudgeonly detective growled into his cell phone as he drove toward Henderson, "what? Damn!" He shook his head in frustration. "We'll just have to hope he contacts us again once we have Anderson in custody." He snapped his phone shut savagely and glanced at Catherine Willows sitting in the front passenger seat.
"What?" she asked knowing something was wrong, "What is it, what did the kidnapper say?" she just prayed nothing else had happened to Grissom. Surely the abductor would be pleased that they were on the way to arrest the right man for the crime, even if it was a year late.
"That was Nick, the kidnapper hung up on them and they don't know what to do next," he informed her.
"Damn!" she exclaimed what more did he think they could do? They weren't super human after all.
"We'll be at the Steadman's house in ten minutes," Brass assured her, "maybe we'll get some answers there." But neither of them was confident of that.
They reached the Steadman house in the allotted time and were confronted with two cars in the driveway and the sight of two police cars arriving just behind them. As they passed the front window of the house they could see two men standing gesticulating violently at one another. At first Catherine made nothing of this but suddenly she realised that the man were conversing in sign language.
"Jim," she snapped, "we've got to get in there fast," before she could explain anything they heard a gunshot ring out from inside the house.
Brass threw all his weight against the door and managed to break it open. He and two of the uniformed officers raced into the front room of the house and found David Anderson standing over the fallen figure of the man he had been arguing with, gun in hand.
"Oh God!" Catherine exclaimed a horrible sinking feeling in her gut. She recognised Liam Jefferson from the case file pictures, and now realised who it was that had abducted Grissom, but if the man died they might never find him.
While Brass read Anderson his rites, the man protesting self defence the whole time, Catherine used her cell phone to dial for an ambulance and kept talking to the recumbent man begging him to tell her where he had housed his prisoner. By the time the ambulance and the paramedics arrived it was too late. Liam Jefferson was dead.
"I want him taken to the coroners office and his belongings sent to Criminalistics," Catherine instructed in too calm a voice. All she wanted to do was scream but she wouldn't let herself break. Perhaps there was a chance that some clue on the body, or in the clothes, would allow them to figure out where the man had been lately and give them enough to go on to find Grissom. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Grissom had just about given up hope. He had spent ages trying to will himself to stay conscious but his stamina was running out. He knew if he fell unconscious this time it might be his last. The loss of blood and the lack of food and water were beginning to take their toll on him and there was nothing he could do about it.
He felt the blackness encroaching on him and tried to shake it off but it was no good. As his head fell back against the mattress he had managed to lie back down on he thought he heard a crash but he couldn't be sure. There was a bright flash like sunlight and then nothing. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
First through the door after the armed policemen was Catherine Willows; she let out a cry when she spotted the limp figure of Gil Grissom. Rushing to him she called his name, trying to elicit some sort of response from him but he didn't say or do anything.
The paramedics pushed past her and once they had assessed the man's condition and took him out to the waiting helicopter. No one tried to stop Catherine when she climbed on board and it took off towards Desert Palms Hospital. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
He took a deep shuddering breath and opened his eyes. He couldn't take in what he saw at first and then gave a sigh of relief. The pristine condition of the hospital room was such a wonderful sight after all those days in that tin room. He looked down at his arm and saw the woman's head resting on the bed, his hand clasped tightly in hers, even in sleep.
With effort Gil Grissom lifted his hand and stroked the strawberry blonde mane, smiling at the lift it gave him to be able to do so. The woman before him stirred and raising her head looked into his eyes.
"Well, hi stranger," Catherine chuckled a relieved smile colouring her face, "how are you feeling?"
Grissom grinned back at her, "All the better for seeing you here," he quipped.
Catherine's face grew serious for a moment as she told him, "If it hadn't been for Sara and Nick combing through every bit of clothing that Liam Jefferson had on we might never have found you." It was something that didn't dare thinking about.
His face growing grim, Grissom asked, "I take it he's dead?"
She nodded, "Brass now has David Anderson on two counts of murder, one premeditate," she squeezed his hand as if to reassure herself he was really there. "Joseph Anderson should be getting his first taste of freedom any moment now."
Neither of them said anything about the man having to live with the fact that his own brother had been prepared to let him die for a crime he had committed. It was something neither of them would ever understand.
"He did Liam a favour you know," Grissom surprised her by saying, when he saw her incredulity he explained. "He was dying of cancer, had only a few months left to live," he sighed before concluding, "shooting seems like a much cleaner way to die than wasting a way in a hospital bed."
Shaking her head Catherine sat silently watching the man she had so recently acknowledge that she was in love with. He was such a closed book to so many people but thankfully she could read a few of the more significant pages.
"While there's just the two of us," she said catching his attention with the mischief in her voice, "about that conversation we were going to have at shift's end..."
