Title: When the West Wind Moves
Author: suza
Beta: mickey_stone (all remaining mistakes are mine :D )
Rating: FRT-13
Fandom: CSI: Miami and Harry Potter
Part: 1/5
Pairing: ??/??
Warning: Slash, a little weird (what do you expect with a CSI-magic crossover?), AU (completely disregards several HP books and facts I didn't like :P )
Summary: When Harry's friends are killed he's thinking conspiracy, Horatio's thinking murder and we all know that Miami never closes…
Disclaimer:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and/or Jerry Bruckheimer, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: This is my first fic after a break of almost two years. I hope it's not too crappy.
Additional A/N: This story is still WIP. I am struggling and fighting with the last part but I am working on it. I have no idea when it will be finished, though. So it will take a while to update (as I don't want to put all of it up just to leave everyone wait forever for the end).
Also, please note that English is NOT my native language. Even though I am quite fluent in it there are bound to be mistakes. I also mostly use American English whereas my beta as a British lady obviously doesn't so there might be some weird spelling mistakes left.
When the West Wind Moves
Part 1: For to gaze awhile upon the fields of barley
Sunglassed eyes looked straight at the burning hot sun as he got out of his car. A bright smile graced his full lips; his mood just as shiny as the sun in the sky above. He walked up to the house he'd parked in front of, unlocked the door with his spare key and let himself in.
"Honey, I'm home!" He called with a small snicker, knowing he was here on business with a friend and not much else. Well, it was business to him anyways. Stepping through the hall into the big living room, he found his customer and friend sitting on the couch, as usual. But that was where the similarities to their usual encounters every Tuesday stopped.
With wide eyes he took in his surroundings. The light walls and furniture seemed to glow on the sun light falling through the large windows and glass sliding doors. The dark wooden shelves with the impressive book collection were untouched, as was the entertainment system right next to them. Nothing would have seemed out of the ordinary if it wasn't for his customer's dead eyes staring sightlessly up to the ceiling.
"Aww, shit." He sighed and turned on his heels, taking the same way out of the house as he'd come in. He also took the same way through the front yard back to his car. Leaning against the car, he pressed a speed dial button on his cell phone. He was speaking as soon as he heard the line being picked up, not giving the one on the other end the chance to answer. "You said to call you, if I ever ended up in trouble."
"Yea, what's up?" was the simple answer.
"Well," he hesitated, "I'm in deep shit trouble."
"Are you all right?" the other's voice sounded concerned, even through the line.
"Well, yes, I think I am. My customer on the other hand is not. I've just found Reed dead on his couch." He explained, trying desperately to not sound overly hysterical.
He failed.
"Ok, listen, here's what we're gonna do: You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself a little. Tell me the address and stay put. I'll be down immediately with a team. We'll figure this out, ok?"
He swallowed heavily and took a deep breath, somehow calmed a little by the other's rational thinking. "Yea, ok."
-*-*-*-*-
"Do we have a cause of death, yet, Alexx?" Horatio asked as he stepped into the living room of one Mister Reed Cartwright, a diamond broker found dead on his couch only a few minutes prior by a friend around 11 am.
The dark ME looked up from were she kneeled in front of the victim and smiled sadly. "No. Actually we have nothing. No external wounds or any other signs of violence. I can tell you more after the post." She smiled, turning to the body, "we'll find out what put you into this situation, won't we, honey?"
Horatio nodded. "Thanks, Alexx. Keep me posted. Calleigh, you and Eric process the living room and from there the whole house. This is an upstanding member of society dead here. I want to know who, when and what. I want to know all of the victim's habits; where he was when and what he did there."
Calleigh smiled in answer, "Sure thing, Horatio."
Horatio nodded satisfied and turned to Speedle, "Speed, I want you to do Trace outside. If this was a murder, the suspect had to come in here and leave somehow, didn't he?" Not waiting for an affirmative response, Horatio turned and walked out of the house, he had a witness to talk to.
Horatio met Yelina near the front door, where she stood, watching their witness leaning against a European sports car with observant eyes. He, too, took a moment to take a look at the young man. He looked to be in his late twenties; his body was toned, so he probably worked out on a quite regular basis. He wore a black tight leather pants and an equally tight black sleeveless shirt, neither left any room for imagination. Horatio looked down and found delicate pumps instead of the boots he had expected. His eyes traveled back up their witness' body, not missing a detail of it. He took in the sun tanned skin, noticing one of the main differences between their witness and the men and women he usually met of the high society: he was not perfect. There was a round scar from a puncture wound on his left upper arm and a faint trace of a scar on his forehead, peeking out under the wild, black locks. Usually those he met used plastic surgery to hide these imperfections. Though, looking at the wild, black mop of hair on their witness' head, the dark sunglasses covering half of the man's face and the tight cloths clinging to a nearly perfect body, Horatio found that just these little imperfections like the scars made this young man look so perfect.
The witness saw them approaching and stood up straight. He himself wasn't overly tall, maybe about 5'6", well, without the four inch heel. Horatio noticed that the witness was still about five inches smaller than he himself was, despite the shoes.
Standing with his hands on his hips and his head a little crocked to one side, Horatio gave the witness another once over glance before introducing himself. "I'm Lieutenant Horatio Caine, this is Detective Salas. We have a few questions concerning Mr. Cartwright."
The witness smiled sadly, took his sunglasses of his face and held his hand out for both Yelina and Horatio. "I'm glad to meet you, Lieutenant, Detective, though I would have preferred it to be under different circumstances. My name is Harry Potter."
Horatio was a little taken aback by the openness shown on Harry's face, but also by the brilliant emerald green eyes twinkling at him. Harry Potter smiled again, beaming slightly at Horatio, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. "You said something about questions, Lieutenant, I would love to answer every single question you have, but I would prefer to do so in a closed room with none of those blood suckers snooping into other people's business," Harry continued, waving his hands into the direction of the reporters already at the scene.
Yelina chuckled. "Would you be willing to come to the station with us to talk?"
Harry nodded, "of course. Anything you need. Could I ride my own car or do I have to ride in the back of one of those flashy cars with the sirens?" He winked and flashed another smile, though Horatio could tell that he was playing the flirty goof-off. "I would hate to leave my car here, while the press is here."
Horatio traded a look with Yelina and then shrugged, turning back to Harry. "We'd prefer for you to ride with us, but we can have your car driven to the station…"
"What? And have some idiot get scratches on my precious?" Harry interrupted, looking outraged. "Ok, listen, Lieutenant, how about I drive my car and you have someone ride with me. I am willing to do anything to help clear this up, but no one but me is riding my car."
It was Horatio's turn not to chuckle at their witness' antics. "Very well, I'll have my CSIs take my car back to the station and I'll catch a ride with you."
"Oh, great!" Harry exclaimed. "It's been a while that I had a hot redhead in my precious."
Yelina looked shocked at a laughing Horatio, who just got into the sports car. Harry shrugged at her. "What can I say, I'm a sucker for redheads."
-*-*-*-*-
True to his word, Harry was willing to talk as soon as they sat down in the interrogation room.
"I've told you, Detective Salas, that I was a friend of Reed's and that is true, even though it's not the only aspect of our relationship." Harry sighed deeply, turning to look out the window. "I arrive at Reed's house every Tuesday at exactly 11 am, maybe a few minutes earlier, but never later than that. I park right in front of the door, walk up to the house and open the door." He stopped, swallowing and took out a keychain. His hands were shaking just slightly and only if one would look for it, one would notice. "I have a spare key," he explained, removing the key from the keychain and laying it on the table in front of him. "Reed likes…he liked domestic bliss so I usually greeted him with "honey, I'm home", it was a running gag between us. His maid was off on Tuesdays from half past ten on. I never met her, she cleaned and shopped for food in the morning and left half an hour before I arrived. I cooked for Reed and myself and after dinner we'd sit together and talk. I'd help him with his stuff, like looking through bills, and listen to him talk or rant about his week…" Harry said, trailing off.
"Well, that does sound like you're a good friend to him, Mr. Potter," Yelina conceded.
Harry snorted. "Yeah, just that I was paid for my service. Reed was a good friend and I would have done that without payment, but he kept on paying me just like before."
"Are you saying, what I think you're saying, Mr. Potter?" Horatio inquired.
"A gentleman would call me an escort, but all I actually am, have been for the last ten years and probably will be for the rest of my life is a whore."
"Did your relationship with Mr. Cartwright include sexual favors?" Yelina asked, somewhat surprised at the discoveries.
"Sometimes, but not always. Sometimes I would stay longer and then we would have sex. Sometimes he didn't even let me go to the kitchen in favor of dragging me straight to bed. Sometimes all he'd do was hold me in his arms. Like I said before, Reed loved domestic bliss. He'd lost his wife about seven years ago and came to me, at the time I was still own by my boss. I bought myself off two years later and only catered to three exclusive customers with specific needs from then on. I meet Richard on Mondays, Reed on Tuesdays and Jason on Wednesdays. It took me another three years to save enough money to actually retire and live comfortable off it for the rest of my life without worrying overly much. I told all three of them that I would quit and we could meet as friends no payments required. All three of them told me pretty much the same." Harry clarified.
"And what would that be?" Yelina asked, leaning back in her chair.
"They'd care for me and wanted to make sure I was taken care of. So I continued to receive weekly payments from them."
"How much would that be?"
"In case you're thinking I killed Reed for insurance or the money he'd have left me, you're mistaken, Lieutenant. Neither Reed's will nor his life insurance is in my favor. So if you're going onto the money as a motive you're wrong. If that would have been my motivation to kill, why should I? All three of my customers pay me quite a lot of money and I am not in favor of their wills. It would be quite stupid of me to kill the one paying me 2000 US Dollars a week, wouldn't it?" Harry asked, smirking slightly.
"Indeed that would be stupid. Well, I don't think we have any other questions. I'd like to ask you to stay in town, Mr. Potter."
"Lieutenant, Miami has been my home for the last ten years, I'm not going anywhere. Besides, I just basically told you, that I am an illegal hooker and compromised my work. You know, you could have me arrested for that, right?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow at Horatio.
"I'm well aware of that, Mr. Potter. But I am curious, you said that you've been in this business for the last ten years, yet we don't have you in our system. Why?"
Harry grinned, "As my Head of House at school liked to tell me "sheer, dumb luck, Mr. Potter, sheer, dumb luck"." But then he admitted slowly, "I am a high priced hooker, if that's what you're asking. I had some of that sheer, dumb luck, when my ex-boss came to collect me. He liked my looks, so he trained me to cater to high society customers. It's what saved me from going onto the streets. But don't let yourself be fooled; the business up there is just as hard as on the streets, maybe even harder. Those with money usually think everything is buyable. They don't always realize that people like me are just as human and breakable as their lovely wives at home. Here," he pulled out a business card from his pants pocket, "this has my address and phone number on it. If you need anything or if I can help in any way, please don't hesitate to ask. Don't get me wrong, I might not have been in love with Reed but I loved him dearly, as a friend and regular lover. I am willing to do about anything to have his murderer in custody." Harry said as he stood.
"One more question then, Mr. Potter, you think this was a murder?"
Harry smiled at Yelina, "Yes, Detective; I think it was. I know it was."
TBC
Thank you for reading. Hope I kinda spiked some interest. Reviews will make me work faster... :D