Chapter 3
"Keep me posted. If any witnesses should come forward you tell me, okay?" Grissom told Brass. He wanted most of all to run his fist through a wall. He wanted Renkin to be the killer, no more-… he needed him to be the killer… Now he was back on square one with nothing to offer the grieving parents.
And as to speak of the devil, his telephone rang the second he entered his office. It was Mrs. Stevens.
"I'm so sorry to disturb you in your work, Mr. Grissom. I just wanted… I was just wondering… if you've made any progress…?"
His shoulders tightened with tension and shame.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Stevens, we still have no suspects in sight. But the case is our first priority and investigators work on it twenty-four seven."
There was a long silence in the other end until she spoke up again with determination in her voice.
"I want to see her, Mr. Grissom. I want to see my little girl."
A quick glimpse of a body beaten beyond recognition flashed before his eyes.
"Of course, I'll arrange for you to see her. How about tomorrow around one p.m?" What was he doing?! The mother would be scarred for life if she was to see what her little girl had been through!
"Yes. We'll be there. Thank you Mr. Grissom, goodbye."
There was a small click and the line went dead. Grissom sank down in his office chair, hiding his face in his hands. The man who'd dealt with humanity at its worst throughout so many years had met his match. He wasn't strong enough for this one. It had crept under his skin.
He was unusually quiet, even for the new Grissom when he left the office that night.
Sarah and Catherine exchanged worried looks and even Warrick noted something not quite right with the way his boss walked. Little did they know where he was headed. Vegas is an odd place, and even some of the shops providing baby-clothes were still open this late hour. Grissom hesitated for a moment before he went inside. The soft smell of baby powder was the first detail that struck him as he entered a room, filled with tiny clothing in all colors and forms. There was even a shelf with tiny little Halloween outfits for newborns.
He halted, not knowing where to go and a helpful woman rushed to his aid:
"Can I help you, Sir? Are you looking for something special?" she smiled and flashed dangerously white teeth.
He nodded his confirmation.
"I need an outfit for a six months girl. It's important that it covers her entire body and the back of her head."
The woman gave him an odd look, as if he'd just stated he was the president of America, but she recovered well and lead him the way towards some rows with pastel-colored outfits.
Five minutes later he was back out on the street, carrying a small paper bag in his hand. The woman had asked him if he was a godfather or uncle to the girl, and he had blatantly told her the little girl who was to wear this was dead. It was a cruel thing to do and he felt ashamed as he walked down the street, but sometimes a tired soul forget to proofread before publishing.
*-*
She had been a pretty little thing, just like all babies are. But her cheeks lacked the roses and the baby padding, her body wasn't as plump as it should be around this age and somehow she looked, even in death, frightened and terrified. Young Melissa had been through more pain than most people with longer lifetimes encounters, and she had missed the one thing most important to all human beings; love.
Gil Grissom dressed her silently, with careful fingers he gave the child some warmth as proofs were hidden from the eye to see. The outfit he'd bought was all in white, and looked very much like a baptism outfit. Only her face and hands were visible when he finished by putting on a tiny white laced cap, and brushed a pale cheek with a trembling finger. She looked like she was sleeping.
He sat with her until Robbins came by and told him the parents had arrived and were waiting in Grissom's office.
"Do you want me to get them for you?" he asked and shoved his glasses back on top of his nose.
Grissom rose on weary feet. "No. I'll bring them to her. I don't like the atmosphere in here."
Immediate silence filled the halls as Grissom walked the short way from the lab to his office. It didn't feel right to speak or to even move as Melissa was to be reunited with her parents. Even Ecklie kept his mouth shut for once.
The mother came rushing towards him the second he entered his office. Grissom handed the baby carefully over to her.
"I'll be down the hall. Take your time Mr. and Mrs. Stevens," he mumbled and turned to leave. Just as he walked out the door Mrs. Stevens started singing in a low, trembling tone.
"Hush little baby, don't you cry…"
Grissom had the one thing that could give the broken family a new start, but could he offer it to them?
*-*
A week passed, and there was no evolvement in the Melissa-case. Grissom was to be seen at his office both day and night now, working furiously, searching for clues he might have overlooked or had missed completely.
Sarah, who was his partner on the case, started to get worried. He still gained weight and there was something… weird about him. He was short tempered and silent, and he looked dog-tired all the time. She'd tried to convince him to take some time off, at least when he wasn't supposed to work, but there was no response from him at all. He simply ignored her. His back seemed to be bothering him as well and she had even offered to rub his neck without any luck. Catherine also seemed to worry about him, but she had decided not to interfere anymore.
Little did Sarah know about the growing burden Grissom was carrying and the plan forming in his mind. He had decided now, and tomorrow he would make the Stevens the offer, through a third part of course. It was the best solution in the end. Both the Stevens and the child he carried would be offered a fresh start, and Grissom could live in solace, knowing the baby would be loved and protected. Parents who've already lost a child the most horrendous way will never allow it to happen again.
*-*
He sat by the telephone in hushed anxiety. Dr. Weisman should have contacted the Stevens by now and any moment the phone would ring, giving him great or bad news. Down in his stomach a tiny hand patted the inside of his abdomen, a tiny movement that sent shudders of fear up the experienced man's spine.
"This is what's best for the both of us!" he told his stomach and returned the careful push with his hand. "I don't have anything to offer you, you would be miserable in my care!"
The movements stopped, and Grissom leaned back with a sigh. He wished the phone could ring so he could get it over with. For once his wish was granted and he grabbed the phone before it had chimed through once.
"Is it you, doc?" he asked impatiently.
"Grissom, I presume?" Weisman stated at the other end of the line. Grissom ran his free hand trough slowly graying hair. "I made a house visit to the Stevens this morning, in fact I've just returned from there. I'm quite happy to inform you they were thrilled by the offer! In fact they've already signed the adoption papers! All that remains now is your signature and a confirmed date for the C-section, and you won't have to worry about fatherhood anymore!" Grissom could hear him smiling, and quite frankly he smiled himself.
"Thanks doc, that's great news! I'll stop by tomorrow to sign the papers and set the date."
"Well, uhm... there is one more thing", Weisman added hesitantly; "they would love to meet you. They don't know you are a man of course, but I could arrange for you to meet under the impression that you are the father of their child?"
"No! They can never know my true identity, Weisman! I investigate the murder of their little girl, for God's sake! How do you think they would react if they found out the man leading the investigation of their murdered child don't bother about his own?! I want to remain anonymous!" Grissom told him determinedly.
"All right, I just wanted to check with you in case you had changed your mind," Weisman apologized. "Stop by my office tomorrow at twelve."
Grissom agreed and hang up. The great relief he was sure he would feel if the deal went in order didn't turn up, and he couldn't help feeling something like a traitor. His parents had divorced when he was five years old, and he never forgave his father for that. But then Grissom Senior hadn't been much of a part in his life anyway. Grissom soon learned that he had no true father, and that he and his deaf mother had never received the affection and attention he owed them. But this was different! This child would grow up with two loving, caring parents instead of a single father who never wanted to have a child in the first place. Some day, with the right woman of course - but not alone, not like a freak guinea pig!
He decided to take a hot shower to take his mind off it all. The bathroom differed from the rest of his condo, which more or less assembled a renovated warehouse loft, with plumbing running along the ceiling. It was small and intimate with a shower, toilet sink and closets cramped together with claustrophobic elegance. Grissom had thought about expanding it, to knock down some walls and maybe even invest in a bathtub, but he didn't feel any rush.He managed just fine the way it was.
As he undressed he had to admit it was time to buy some new clothes. Even his loose sitting T-shirts were starting to cling a little too much to his body and it didn't exactly look neat… He shot a fast glance down his torso before he stepped into the hot streams of water, noticing how he was starting to look like a beach ball.
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