Part 6/? Catherine pulled up the navy SUV beside the first CSI vehicle. Sara and Grissom had already been at the crime scene for close on two hours. Although, she knew, they would have barely scraped the surface. Multiples made their job more intensive as they needed to not only work out when, where, what with and why but also the sequence in which the murders took place. Sometimes working out the sequence would also prove the why of the tragic deaths. The street was quiet and there were no onlookers which didn't surprise Catherine. The night air was beginning to get chilly, the unusual rain having brought a cooler change to the humid climate. She had no doubt that the street had been lined with curious neighbours earlier. A crime scene drew onlookers like a cadaver attracted flies. Catherine slipped on a pair of paper booties over her shoes and pulled out a pair of latex gloves. Holding them in her right hand, she grabbed her field kit and walked up the path towards the house. "Catherine, glad you finally made it," Brass said as he came out the front door of the house. "Grissom's upstairs. First room to the right." "Right. Thanks, Brass," Catherine said over her shoulder as she entered the house. She ended up having to back track her steps for a moment while the coroner's office removed a body from upstairs. "Is that the last one?" Catherine asked the tousled haired coroner's assistant as he judiciously stepped backwards down the front step. "Nope," John answered with a sharp shake of his head. "Two to go." "Busy night, huh?" Catherine commented. It was unusual that the bodies were still being removed nearly two hours after the arrival of the CSIs at a crime scene. "Yeah. Haven't you noticed the full moon?" John indicated towards the round, full moon shining brightly, peeking out from behind the clouds filling the night sky. Catherine followed his gaze. "Always a sure sign of trouble." "It sure brings out the weirdos. At least we're on this end of it. Couldn't imagine being a cop or a medic on a night like this." "I'm sure the people in your bag would prefer not to have been on their end of the deal," Catherine reminded him grimly. "I know." John sent her a cheery grin as he continued with his job. Catherine carefully made her way into the hallway and took in the scene. She avoided the evidence trail and went upstairs. From the amount of blood on and at the top of the stairs, Catherine realised that the room Grissom was working in would not be pretty. "Hey, Gil. You called..." Catherine drawled, as she put down her field kit beside Grissom's in the girls' bedroom. "Yeah, we need more hands on deck," he responded, indicating the crime scene. He was crouched over a pool of congealing blood, collecting samples for analysis. "What a mess," Catherine commented, her eyes slowly absorbing the amount of blood and gore coating the floor and walls of the room. "What did they use? A shotgun?" "Something of that magnitude," Grissom said as he sealed the small vial containing the sample. "Sara has also suggested a couple of smaller loadings which can produce the same high velocity trauma." "She would," Catherine responded, trace of sarcasm lacing her tone. Grissom turned his head sharply at the tone. "Where's that comment come from?" "Dissecting Sara from her computer is almost like conducting an amputation," Catherine responded dryly. A smile tugged at the edges of Grissom's mouth. He had to agree with Catherine on that point. The amount of information that Sara managed to scour through her computer searches was amazing. "How did she take what you said?" Catherine asked, bending down beside him. "We haven't talked yet," Grissom said shortly, avoiding meeting Catherine's eyes. He spied a hair mixed in with the blood; it was short, dark and curly, unlike that of the victim. "What're you waiting for?" "An appropriate time to discuss it. This," Grissom indicated to the scene around him with the tweezers in his hand, "is not the right time." Catherine didn't bother even to respond to his reasoning. Instead, she rewarded him with a withering look. Grissom returned her gaze, his mouth slightly twisted. "I'm going to speak with Sara. Tonight is not the right time. She is running on adrenalin alone." "How's she coping?" "The usual. It's not the first time Sara has worked like this." Grissom thought of the occasions when the toll of the extensive hours she put into an investigation had her falling asleep at her computer terminal or in the lounge. It was only when she slowed down for a break that the tiredness seemed to hit her. He hoped that the pattern would continue with this case. "It's the first time you have been worried about her though," Catherine reminded him quietly. Grissom couldn't disagree with her there. It had been Sara's close association with the victim that concerned him. He should have recognised the signs earlier; he had overheard the whispered promise in the hospital. The overhelming need to give the victim an identity, a past before she died, should have registered with him. He had worked with Sara often enough to know that this was not how she would react normally. Something was wrong and he'd ignored all the pointers. "Anyway, you wanted me on this crime scene. What do you want me to do?" Catherine knew that this scene was going to take many more hours of investigation. The fact that the victims had not all been shot in the one area immediately making the task more complicated. "There's the study to still be done. We've only done a prelim," Grissom told her. "I'd also like you to do an analysis of the crime scene. Find out the sequence and then we may know the who and why." Catherine frowned at his comment, her brow furrowing. "So, taking a guess, the father in the study with a rifle." "Father and study correct, 9mm Luger was the weapon of choice." Grissom informed her succinctly, raising his eyebrows at her as he labelled another evidence bag. "But these injuries aren't consistent with a Luger," Catherine stated, pursing her lips together as she looked around the room again. "Begs the question, doesn't it?" "So it might not be a murder-suicide." A gunshot resounded in the silence. Grissom paled, instantly remembering how Holly Gribbs had come to lose her life. His earlier concern for Sara immediately had him frozen, worried that Sara had suffered the same fate. "What the hell?" Catherine turned quickly, drawing her gun from her holster, trying to determine where the shot had come from. Grissom followed her out the door, to the top of the stairs. Basic training had both Grissom and Catherine cautious in their movements, despite the fact that they wished to run around the house to ensure that all their team were okay. They were on the stairs when they saw Brass entering the front door, his gun drawn. Behind him were two local police officers, their eyes anxiously searching the room, guns held tightly in their hands. "Where did the shot come from?" Brass asked them in a stage whisper. "Down here somewhere," Catherine responded, carefully moving down the stairs, one step at a time. "Where's Sara?" Brass asked. "I had her assessing the scene out the back," Grissom responded, his voice steady, not revealling the fear that gripped him. Brass directed the two officers to check the downstairs area of the house. "Let's check out back. Stay behind me." End Part 6/?