The man was sitting with his back against the marble headstone, unconsciously fiddling with the frames of his sunglasses. It had been so long since he had been here and his guilt still hung over him like a dark cloud.
"Speed, I am lost. First you, and then," his voice cracking, "and then Mari and Raymond."
Horatio Caine raised his head, his eyes red with unshed tears and sadness. He sighed and ran his hand through his thinning hair. "Losing all of you was my fault. I knew you didn't maintain your weapon as you should and I didn't follow through as a leader…"
Once more his voice cracked, and he drew a shuddering breath . "I didn't follow through as a friend. Speed, I failed you and I can't make it right." Tears slowly tracked down his face and he bowed his head once more. "I miss you, Speed."
He rose slowly to his full six feet, brushed the seat of his jeans off, put his hand on the cool marble, and bowed his head. He said a short prayer for his friend, asking his forgiveness. As he did, he relived his friend's death, again seeing his vacant stare. He shuddered and crossed himself. He walked over to his black Tahoe, and took a small vase out and began walking toward another headstone.
He realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a day off without having it end with him back in his office. Today, he promised himself, is mine. I told Speed the truth. I am lost.
Walking over the small knoll, he caught his breath. The morning was beautiful. There was a small fountain near his wife's grave site, and the branches of a beautiful red maple tree hung overhead. He had timed his visit for early morning. The fountain's gurgling water, the singing of the birds above, and the view – it all spoke of serenity. Mari deserves such a place, he thought.
On the headstone's base, he gently set the vase of white roses down and slowly sank to his knees, clearing the bit of leaf detritus from around the headstone. As he had done with Speed, he scooted up and leaned back against the marble. It was still cool. Call him crazy, but he needed connection while speaking with them. It was personal, comfortable and unhurried this way... the way a talk ought to be with a good friend and loved one.
Horatio took a deep breath and looked skyward, seeing a hawk of some kind circling overhead. There was always a hawk when he came to talk with Mari. It was his sign that she was listening and he smiled.
"Hello Mari, my darling. I am so sorry, darling. I know you must be disappointed in me and my actions in Rio. I know I am. I… I thought I would feel better but the hole, the emptiness inside me is still heavy. I'm lost, Mari. I'm becoming someone I don't know."
He took another deep breath to calm his thoughts when he heard a sudden screech. The hawk had landed but a few feet away and Horatio was mesmerized. The hawk and he stared at one another until he felt his heart and his soul, yes his soul, calming down. He reached up and wiped the tears from his eyes and face and quietly said, "Thank you, darling." It seemed to Horatio that the hawk nodded and took flight once more. After a few more minutes of silence, of spending time with Mari, Horatio felt better, lighter. Trips to visit Mari were always this way. Gracefully standing, he smiled down at his wife. "Our time was too short, Mari, but know this. I love you." Bowing his head, Horatio crossed himself and said another short prayer.
As he started to leave, he looked overhead and saw the hawk. "Thank you, my friend, for your gift to my wife and I."
He slowly made his way back to his truck. He needed to go to one more place before taking some much needed "me" time.
It was a slow drive and one he enjoyed as it took him back to a time before Speed. He pulled into the front of the old office building and smiled. He remembered the first time, how he had rang the doorbell and promptly moved back as the dogs had begun barking.
Belle, he thought, you were full of surprises.
The suite, for some reason, had never rented again. He took a poppy from the cooler beside him and got out. He stretched and made his way over to the door. He placed the poppy in front of the door in memory of the good and caring lady. The sun is going to be warm today, he thought, and sat down in the shade of the entryway, much as he had done with Speed and Mari.
"How are you, Belle? Have you and Speed been taking care of one another? I… I have been trying, my friend, to do as you asked and take care of myself as well. I admit it has been hard lately."
He sighed and continued. "Who am I trying to kid, Belle, but myself. I'm not taking care at all. I can't tell the others, they have enough problems without me adding to their own. Work has been unreal. The criminals, Belle, are getting more cruel and creative in their dysfunctional need, or I'm not moving ahead with the times." He sighed once more. Is that it? he wondered Am I still seeing the world as it was and not how it is? No. That's not it. You're tired, old man. Give it a rest.
"Belle, you are missed." Once more, he stood and said a short prayer.
Back in the Tahoe, Horatio headed for home. While only 8 am, the heat and humidity were already on the rise. Once home, he changed into a pair of lightweight shorts and t-shirt, slathered on the sunblock and put a hat on. He drained water from the cooler, put in a couple bottles of water and a bottle of brewed tea and refilled it with ice. He grabbed his jeans and rolled them up and put them in a small duffle along with a couple of magazines, a book, pencil and finally a pad of paper. The duffle, cooler and a pair of tennis shoes were thrown into the back seat. Without a backward glance, Horatio headed to an out-of-the way beach. He found he was actually looking forward to this. He turned the radio on and, after listening for a few minutes, put a CD in instead. Enough news, he thought.
He hadn't looked at what he had picked up. It was an eclectic mix ranging from Bach's Brandenburg Concertos to a light hip hop and dub-step mix. He chuckled aloud as he remembered Eric's reaction to this particular CD. "H! You know, you listen…" stumbling over his words in his astonishment, shaking his head and smiling widely. Horatio had smiled at his brother-in-law. He was surprised at himself as well. While not enjoying much of the hip hop, there were a few artists that expressed themselves well, not in anger but in quiet contemplation of the world around them.
The dub-step was an accident. While processing a crime scene near a local basketball park, he had heard some of the music and it, too, had touched him deeply; not all of it, mind you, but a few artists. Some of the music he found while surfing you-tube on the rare occasion he couldn't sleep and didn't want to look at another report he had brought home with him.
As the miles passed, he could feel the tension leaving his shoulders. He knew he had made the right decision. He was desperate for the peace and solitude only the water could bring him. Sometimes he would go to one of the big beaches for a moment's respite, but he was always recognized and, while they left him alone, he knew he was being watched and couldn't really relax like he could here.
He pulled off onto the road leading into the secluded area. As he pulled up he was glad to see no other vehicles although it was rarely vacant as hikers liked the spot as well. He grabbed his stuff and headed for "his" spot.
As he walked, he passed a woman sitting on a sleeping bag with a small notebook in her hand. She tensed as he neared and though her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses like his were, he knew he would see wariness in them. He smiled and nodded as non-threateningly as possible while glancing down at her notebook. She's quite good, he thought as he processed the small pen and ink sketches.
He continued another 15 yards up the beach to the small grove of palms and sat down. He put everything down, laid out a towel, took off his shirt and sandals and approached the water. He waded out and spent the next 15 minutes enjoying himself. He could feel his shoulders getting hot and knew it was time to get out.
He noticed the woman had relaxed although there was a slight tightening of her shoulders as he returned to his beach towel and sat down. He took a smaller towel out and quickly dried himself and reapplied sunblock. He then laid back and closed his eyes.
After a short catnap, he sat up and took out his book and began reading. He looked over to the woman as his inquisitive nature couldn't be stopped. She was dressed in jeans that had seen better days, a dark tank top and a dark colored ball cap. Her blond hair was a stark contrast. She didn't seem to mind the sun. She stood and he frowned as he noticed she grabbed her left side as if in pain. She let her hand drop and she slowly walked up the beach. He went back to reading his book.
As much as he tried to continue reading, he was uneasy.
Something was wrong but he couldn't quite figure it out. The woman still hadn't returned, and he glanced at his watch. She had been gone for almost an hour. Not unusual but even so... Is this where the uneasiness is coming from? He glanced up the beach and sighed to himself. Good she is coming back. Maybe it isn't her after all. He could feel the tension emanating from her as she neared his place and he ignored it and her as he continued to pretend he was reading. He looked up once she was past and noticed her hand on her side once more. He stood quickly and ran over to her as she began to weave, catching her as she fell.
"Miss? Miss? My name is Horatio and I'm going to lay you down, alright?"
He kept talking to her, telling her exactly what he was doing in case she came to. He returned to his cooler and grabbed a bottle of water and his small towel, dunking it in the melted ice, then returning to her.
She should have been warm in the clothes she had on but she felt cool and somewhat clammy as if in shock. He wiped her face down and gently began running his hands down her arms, then legs.
"You're doing well, Miss. I'm going to check your ribs and stomach now." She groaned as he pushed lightly on her ribs. When he pulled his left hand back, he was shocked to see the blood.
"Miss, I'm going to raise your shirt up a bit. I promise I'm not trying to hurt you." He immediately saw the redness of infection on her upper left abdomen and, as he raised the shirt, he saw the raw, angry knife wound. It was deep and began just below the ribcage, and as he rolled her to her right side, the wound wrapped around to her back. He groaned at what he saw. He raised her shirt, revealing numerous cuts all over her back. He took the small towel and gently cleaned the wounds.
Her eyes fluttered open and widened in apprehension. "Miss, it's alright. My name is Horatio Caine. I'm going to take you to the hospital to get some care and help. You're wound is infected."
She shook her head. "No one can help me," she whispered. Tears rolled down her face. "I killed her, killed all of them. I don't deserve help. I deserve to die. I deserve hell" She slumped once more, and Horatio was speechless.
He picked up her up, surprised by how light she was. She was also taller than he had expected. He shook his head, his gut telling him she hadn't killed anyone but he needed to get her help first and then find out the rest of her story. As he put her in the passenger seat, and buckled her in, he noticed her jeans were wet with blood. The wound had opened more, although how it had happened he wasn't sure.
He retrieved the first-aid kit from the back of his truck and set to binding the wound. Who are you and who did you kill, or think you killed, he thought as glanced over at his passenger, frowning as he saw the sweat on her brow.