The body was still fresh when they got to it. The face, minus the gunshot wound, was the one they'd watched plead with her son just moments before she'd been murdered. The memory of the fear, of the surprised dread in her eyes, would live on for a long time after Isabelle Millander was buried.

"It's her," Grissom confirmed as Nick turned away to answer his phone. "It's Isabelle Millander."

"Her son did this to her?" Captain Jim Brass stared down at the body, pity in his eyes. "Hell of a way to go."

"He's not her son, he's a monster," Grissom muttered, kneeling down to stare at Isabelle Millander's features, relaxed and at peace in death. "And he's got Catherine, Brass. We've got just under half an hour to find her before.."

Brass surprised him by putting a hand on his shoulder for a brief moment. "She'll be okay, Gil. We'll find her in time."

"I hope so," Gil stood up, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat when his imagination morphed Isabelle into Catherine. "I really don't want to have to tell Lindsey that her Mom's dead. That I let her down."

"You won't." Nick approached them, a bounce I his step that hadn't been there before. "Sara and Warrick are on their way, they think they know where Millander has Catherine. Unit 17 is rented to a Mr. G. Grissom and unless there's something going on in your life you haven't mentioned to us.."

"Unit 17 in this park?" For the first time in what seemed like a long time, Grissom felt hope surge inside him. "That's on the other side of the park, right? Near the entrance?"

"It'll take five minutes by car at the most." Brass commented excitably, starting towards his car but stopping when Gil reached out and caught his arm. "What? What are we waiting for?"

Shaking his head, Grissom let go of Brass's sleeve, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "If we go back in the cars, he'll know we're coming. He's probably already jumpy with the amount of traffic here because of his Mom.. How long will it take on foot?"

Quickly unfolding a map, Nick looked at the scale of the map and then at the distance between the point they were standing and unit 17. "Ten, maybe fifteen minutes if we hurry," he refolded the map and glanced up expectantly. "If we cut through those factories, it'll cut five minutes or more off the walk."

"Let's go." Grissom nodded and turned in the direction he'd pointed. "Brass, tell the rest of your men to stay here and stay quiet. Nick, call Sara and Warrick and tell them to cut the engine before coming into the park and walk the rest of the way. We can't risk him knowing we're gaining on him in case he decides to do something to Catherine."

They had only just started walking when Grissom's phone began to ring. Taking it out of his pocket, he frowned, cold dread seeping into his stomach at the name that flashed across the screen.

Catherine.

In a clipped tone, tension squaring his shoulders, Grissom pressed the appropriate button and answered the phone. "Grissom."

"Gil?"

Hearing her voice instead of Millander was such a big shock that he almost dropped the phone. "Catherine? Is that you?"

"My name is Catherine Willows," she began in a voice that shook with tears he could hear. "I reside at 241 Rose Coral Drive, Las Vegas, Nevada."

"No, Cath.." Recognising the words from the suicide notes Millander had forced his victims to leave behind, Grissom's blood ran cold. "Don't.."

He heard the telltale rustle of paper and knew she was reading aloud. "I am 40 years of age and I'm going to kill myself. I just can't do it anymore." Her voice broke and lowered to almost a whisper. "I love you, Gil."

His pace quickened when he heard that, his heart clenching when he heard her cry out.

"You'll be too late, Grissom," he heard Millander boast. "She'll be dead before you find her."

The line went dead before Grissom could comment.

Starting to jog, Grissom held the phone in his fist. "He's going to kill her. We have to get there now!"

Brass and Nick needed no further encouragement and soon the three men were running through the silent park.

Tears she could no longer contain ran unashamedly down her cheeks. With a hand she couldn't keep steady no matter how hard she tried, Catherine picked up another pill from the combination he'd laid out in front of her.

She knew if she stopped, the gun he was aiming at her head would fire and there'd be no chance of a rescue.

Putting the blue and yellow pill on her tongue, Catherine reached out for the bottle of vodka he'd opened - the second - and swallowed it down in one mouthful. She winced at the feel of the pill sliding down her throat, tears dripping from her chin when he motioned for her to pick up another.

She was trying to keep count but the combination of alcohol and drugs was making her mind play tricks and her thoughts hazy. She thought she'd taken ten or twelve before making the phone call to Grissom and another three after hanging up.

"Please don't do this," she begged, hesitating in picking up another of the tablets neatly lined up on the table. "Please.. I don't want to die.."

"Keep going," Millander ordered roughly, the hand holding the gun steady as it aimed at her forehead. "One way or another, you're going to die. It'll be tidier if you do what you're told. Less distressing for Grissom." He smirked at the glare that momentarily arranged her features. "Come on, Catherine. We don't have all night. Or would you rather he find you with your brains splattered all over the place? Would you rather your daughter bury her mother without being able to see her to say goodbye?"

Shaking her head wordlessly, Catherine lowered her gaze to the pills. She was either seeing double or he'd put more out when she wasn't looking. Another table, too. Glancing up at him, she knew the combination was taking a greater hold over her senses. She was definitely seeing double or Millander had sprouted a twin. "I can't.. I feel sick.. Tired.."

"Keep going," he barked, repeating his order. "Keep going or I'll do it for you."

Attempting to appease him and pick up another pill, Catherine was dismayed to find that not only had she lost her focus but also the ability to move. Her arms refused to cooperate, hanging loosely, lifelessly, at her sides. "I can't." Her voice was almost a whine, that of a petulant child who was overtired but was refusing to go to bed. "I can't move."

Growling in the pit of his throat, Millander put the gun down the waist of his trousers and moved closer. He picked up a handful of pills and grabbed her cheeks, forcing them in her mouth despite her protests. He closed his hand over her mouth before she could spit them out and held the bottle of vodka to her lips, forcing her to chose between drinking or choking. He massaged her throat with his spare hand, making sure the pills went too far down for her to cough back up.

When he pulled away, Catherine spluttered and choked. She lost her balance and fell from the chair she'd been precariously balanced on, unable to brace herself with arms that wouldn't move.

"There you go, that wasn't so bad, was it, Catherine?" Millander stood over her, the gun back in his hand. He was grinning triumphantly, a grin that faded when the door to the warehouse they were in opened with a bang. "Guess our times up," he muttered, lifting the gun in his hand. "Don't worry, Catherine. It'll all be over soon."

His finger tightened on the trigger and the sound of a single gunshot rang out in the warehouse, echoing off the walls.

Catherine, having braced herself for the impact, was surprised when she heard a thud and saw he'd fallen to the floor beside her.

Half of his face was missing.

Crying, with equal parts of relief and fear, she tried to focus blurry eyes on the figure she could see moving towards her. She couldn't tell who it was until she was in his arms, his hand running through her hair, his words murmured in her ear.

"It's okay, Catherine. I've got you, you're safe." Gil. Murmuring to her as he would a child, trying to comfort her, reassure her.

Shaking her head against him, she forced her mouth to move, concentrating everything she had on forming the words. "Drugs.. Alcohol. Overdose.. Gil.."

Her heart was pounding and sweat broke out across her brow. She felt sweaty and sick and hot and cold all at once. The world spun and she only had a vague knowledge of what was going on.

She heard him swear and felt him move her. She felt his fingers down her throat and although she initially tried to protest, the tiny part of her mind that was still coherent realised what he was doing and forced her body to relax.

Her stomach heaved and she closed her eyes against the dizzying shades of black that was all she could see. Catherine didn't know how long she was held in his arms, one of his hands in her mouth, encouraging her gag reflexes, all she knew was that he was helping her.

Saving her.

With that reassuring thought in mind, Catherine did her best to fight against the tide of unconsciousness until Grissom eased her back into a lying position and then she gratefully let the world close in around her and everything went black.

"Thanks for this, Gil, I really appreciate it." Catherine's smile was reward enough but Grissom wasn't about to tell her that. He watched in amusement as Lindsey Willows got out of the Tahoe, bounding up to the front door before realising she didn't have a key and couldn't get inside.

Walking around to offer Catherine a helping hand, even though he knew the offer would be decline, Grissom couldn't help but grin. "It's not a problem, Catherine. It's about time you and Lindsey found a new place. Away from the memories."

"Running away from the memories won't make them go away," Catherine commented as she looked up at her new temporary home. "But at least we can make a fresh start." She flashed him another smile as they walked up towards the front door where her daughter was waiting impatiently. "Are you sure you don't mind us staying here until we find a place of our own? Louise said we could stay there but.."

"It's no problem at all, Catherine. Stop worrying about it." He hoped, secretly, that she wouldn't find a new house as soon as she was expecting. "You and Lindsey are welcome. For as long as you need to stay."

In truth, he was as glad to have them close by. He'd come close to losing her and didn't know how to reconcile the emotions he felt because of it. His mind kept replaying her words over and over again, the ones Millander had forced her to say.

'I love you, Gil.'

Had Millander forced her to say his name or had that been an adlib on her part?

Grissom didn't know, couldn't know for certain, but it was something he was going to think about. Something he hoped to investigate further and hopefully discover the answer to during her extended stay at his house.

Hopefully, if the answer was what he wanted it to be, the extended stay would be extended some more. Losing her once was something he could cope with - only just. Losing her again was something he refused to think about.

"Gil?" Pausing in walking up the steps to his door, Catherine had stopped when she noticed he wasn't walking beside her. "Is something wrong?"

"No. No," he forced a quick smile and covered the distance between them. "I was just thinking.. I was just thinking how close he got. If we hadn't got there in time.." He decided to go for the honest route, knowing she'd see through any lie he fed her.

"But you did. You got there. It's not worth dwelling on what might have been when we're living what was." She smiled, tentatively, shyly. An unusual smile for Catherine. "You've got me and I've got you. We'll be okay as long as that's how it stays."

"Yeah. It'll be okay." Reassured by her words, Grissom continued walking with Catherine at his side, grinning at Lindsey's impatient expression, which made the young girl blush and giggle. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open for them and bowed mockingly. "Well, ladies.. Welcome to your new home."

Lindsey giggled again and skipped inside, eager to explore his house more than she already had on previous visits. Catherine bit her lip to keep back a smile and followed her daughter in, enjoying the sensation of comfort that accompanied his words. 'Your new home.' A safe home, full of only good memories. One where she wouldn't be afraid to sleep and wouldn't fear for her life or her daughters.

Watching her, Grissom smiled to himself at the look on her face and quietly closed the door behind them. 'I've got you, Catherine,' he thought to himself quietly. 'And I don't intend on letting you go.'