One of the advantages of being a homicide detective, Brass explained to Willows later, is that he could find out at any given minute where any police officer was in the city. That meant he knew when no one would be watching Carol's first floor apartment. Slipping under the police tape and using a lock pick, Brass and Catherine slid quietly into the nearly pitch black apartment. Without speaking, they closed the door behind them, shut all the blinds and drapes, and operated by flashlight, only.

Catherine, her heart beating wildly and her palms sweating in her Latex gloves, already knew what awaited them in the bedroom, so she decided to try the less obvious approach, first, moving from the living room to the kitchen and then to the bath, while Brass kept watch by the window. Every time he said 'car,' she doused her light. When the headlights of an approaching vehicle panned the house and then continued, she went back to work. She was gleaning, looking for the little things the dayshift crew might have overlooked. But she had to admit that they had done a thorough job.

"Anything?" Brass asked, nervously staring out the window.

"Nothing in here," Catherine whispered. "I wish I knew what the dayshift already took out of here."

"I'm sure we'll find out soon," Brass said.

Catherine nodded and continued in the kitchen. Like the living room, it was immaculate, except for a few unpacked boxes of new dishes. No dishes in the sink. Not even a damp towel laying about. The frig contained a half-gallon of skim milk, a small container of strawberries, some brie, and a spray can of whipped cream.

"Mmm. Yummy," Catherine said, making a face. "I wonder what this girl ate." She collected the whipped cream. As condensation formed on the can, she quickly set up her kit and lifted several prints, before they could be destroyed.

The cupboards were also bare, with only a few spices and a couple of cans of soup.

"How long has she been in town?" Catherine asked.

"About a week. Why?"

Catherine opened another cupboard and found a single box of cereal. She then checked the stoneware canisters and found them empty.

"Either she wasn't planning on staying long, or she didn't have time to go shopping."

Brass shrugged. Catherine moved to the bathroom. Again, the place was spotless. She wondered if Eckley's crew had gathered up all the dirty laundry and towels, looking for evidence that Grissom had been there. Fingerprint powder covered the sink, toilet and shower knobs. But Catherine was able to find a double set of clean hand prints, on the tile wall of the shower, on each side of the showerhead.

"Take a look at these," she said, calling Brass into the bathroom. He found Catherine standing in the shower, her hands posed in the air, a few inches from the prints on the tiled wall. "What do you notice?" she asked.

"A beautiful woman in the shower?" he quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Catherine threw him an annoyed look.

"How tall was Carol MacEnroe?"

"About five six," he said.

"If she had leaned up against this wall, her prints would have been much lower." She adjusted her arms, to demonstrate.

"That means, those aren't her prints," Brass concluded.

Catherine got out her supplies, numbered and photographed the wall, and carefully lifted the two full sets of fingerprints.

"They could be Gil's prints," Brass suggested. "They could have showered, together."

Catherine tried to hide her reaction to that comment, but didn't succeed. If Gil had showered with Carol, he probably had sex with her; if he had sex with her, he probably killed her. A shiver ran up Catherine's back.

"There's only one way to find out," she sighed. Then she looked around the room, again. Opening the cabinet over the sink, she found very few toiletries and no clutter. She pulled open a bathroom drawer, and found only a hairdryer in it. Pulling the hairdryer out, she examined it closely and pulled a strand of hair from it. She then tucked that in an evidence bag.

Finished in the bathroom, she stepped into the hallway, working up the nerve to enter the bedroom where Carol MacEnroe had been tortured and murdered. Brass came up behind her and gently rested his hand on her arm. She jumped.

"Are you ready?" he asked. She nodded and opened the door.

Moonlight illuminated the contemporary styled room. The bed had been stripped and the sheets were probably in evidence, she realized. She carefully went through each drawer and then the closet, each time noting the scarcity of things.

"Only two pairs of panties?" Catherine asked. "What kind of woman owns only two pairs of panties?"

"The kind who doesn't wear any?" Brass suggested.

"Get real!" Catherine snapped.

"Hey, you're asking the wrong person," Brass responded. "My ex had so much underwear, she practically had a whole bureau just to hold the stuff."

"My point, exactly," Catherine said.

She shut off her flashlight and stood in the dark, trying to imagine what Carol MacEnroe was like. She could feel the dead woman's spirit wrapping itself around her. She smelled what Carol smelled, saw what Carol saw, and heard what Carol heard, just before she died. Catherine stretched out on the mattress and raised her hands above her head, her eyes closed.

"Where did the extension cord come from?" she asked, without moving. Brass, admiring Catherine's elegant form in the moonlight, was having difficulty focusing.

"I don't know. The lamp, maybe?"

Catherine rolled over and pulled on the lamp cord. It was unplugged. The socket was on the other side of the bed.

"A weapon of convenience," she concluded. She looked up and caught Brass staring at her. "What?" she asked.

"Hey, you're a beautiful woman. Forgive me for being a man," he said.

Catherine chose to ignore the comment.

What she had was a lot of evidence out of context, as Gil would say. Not enough clothes. Very little make-up. Catherine went back to the bathroom and looked at the bottles and tubes, again. Everything was new, from the toothpaste to the shampoo to the face powder. It was like the woman hadn't owned a single thing before that week.

"We need to know more about this girl," Catherine said, gathering the bathroom items into a small trash bag. "We need to find out what happened in L.A."

"I know people. I'll make some calls," he said.

Catherine smiled a little.

"You know people?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Yes. We should go to Gil's. If the forensic team was there, they had to have a reason."

"Probably looking for DNA," Brass said.

"No. They can get that with a warrant. They were looking for something. Something specific." She thought a minute. "You don't have a copy of the search warrant for Gil's place, do you?" she asked.

"No, but I can get it."

"Because you know people," she teased.

He smiled and pulled out his phone. After chatting with someone for a minute, he hung up and told her he could get her a copy of the search warrant and the supporting affidavit, first thing in the morning.

"I guess you do know people," Catherine said, giving Brass a gentle kiss on the cheek.

He was grateful for the darkness that hid his blush.

When they had finished at Carol's, they went to Gil's. They found the damaged door ajar, and, from inside, soft music playing on the radio. Pulling their weapons, Catherine and Brass approached cautiously. They slipped through the door and swept the room, startling Sara.

"Oh, my god!" she yelled. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry. What are you doing here?" Catherine asked, stunned, as she holstered her weapon.

"Feeding the spiders," Sara said. "Someone has to feed the spiders." Her voice was starting to break. "I don't want them to die before he gets home." Sara hid her face, before continuing. "I'm sorry," she said. "I thought I was done crying."

Catherine walked up and put her arm around the younger woman, comforting her.

"It's going to be okay," she said. "He will be home. Soon. I promise." Sara turned to face her.

"I know I sound crazy, I know I shouldn't be acting like this, but I can't help it. I just can't imagine my life without Grissom in it."

Catherine knew just how Sara felt.

"Come on," Brass said. "Let me take you home."

"Not without the spiders," Sara said. "Just in case."

"Okay. You can take the spiders."

Sara smiled shyly and picked up the cage.

"I'll be back for you in five," Brass told Catherine, leaving her to explore the private world of Gil Grissom.

-- TBC --