Lost Son Missing scene Horatio thinks about a phone call he needs to make.

Her Lost Son

You watch as Tawny Williams holds her son in her arms. Either she is a first class actress or she really does love the boy. And he seems to love her. It wasn't often that you are glad to be wrong about a person, but this time you are. She really has changed.

But even as you watch mother and son you can't help but think of another mother, one whose heart you are going to break in just a few minutes. Is she going to wish she could still hold her son the way Tawny just held on to Joey?

"I heard about your CSI," she says. "I'm sorry I really am."

You nod and thank her. It is something you have heard several times in the past few hours and know you will without a doubt hear it again many times over the next few days. But she does seem genuinely sorry for what happened. That her past came back to haunt in a way she never expected, and that someone, or several someones might die. You nod again and watch as Tawny and her son leave and hope that what you told is true and that Pete is out for their lives for good.

Now that Joey is safe and sound you realize you can no longer avoid it. There is a phone call you need to make. You knew a just moment after it happened that this moment was coming. You have uncharacteristically been avoiding it and are not completely sure why.

You have lost track of the number of times you have called the family – usually the parents - of murder victims to tell them of their loved one's death. You feel it is important to let the grieving family know that their son's or daughter's killer will be caught and punished. You want to provide them at least some sort closure, even if you know that many times closure is a myth and that nothing but time can bring it. And sometimes not even that can do it.

So why is so difficult to make this phone call? What is so different about this one? You have never met the Speedles and Tim has only mentioned briefly and mostly in passing over the years you have known him.

Deep down though, you know. You know that this time it's different. This time it's personal. You are calling about someone you are going to mourn for some time as well. Yes, you mourn the death of all the victims you deal with, but it is an abstract, detached way. One that allows you function as you solve their deaths and bring their killers to justice. And to go on once that particular case has been solved. But you are going to mourn Speed for some time. Maybe not in an obvious way, maybe not publicly but you are going to mourn him.

This time you are not calling strangers, but the family of a close friend. True, you have never met Speed's family – hell you don't know that much about them, but you do – did - know Speed. He was a co-worker, a subordinate and a friend. So in a way you are calling family.

You pick up Speed's file and look for his next-of-kin listing. Even with the risks of the job, it is a number you never thought you would need and dial the number before you find yet another way to procrastinate making the call. The phone rings once, twice and just as the third ring begins someone picks up.

"Hello?" A woman's voice answers.

"Mrs. Speedle?" you ask.

"Yes?" she replies. "Who is this?"

You take a deep breath and begin. "Mrs. Speedle, my name is Horatio Caine. I work with Tim at the Miami-Dade crime lab." Worked you think but you can't bring yourself to say that yet.

"Oh yes," she says in a pleasant voice. "Tim as mentioned you a few times," she says. There is a pause but before you can continue she seems to realize that your calling her is not a good thing. "Is there something wrong?" Now she really starts to sound worried. "Has something happened to Tim?"

You take another breath. "Yes, something has happened..."

Later you won't remember exactly what you said to her, how you told her of her son's death. You do remember telling her to contact you when she and Speed's father know their plans for coming down to Miami. Telling her not to worry about funeral plans because the police department would take of that... or anything else connected to the funeral because there were any number of people at the crime lab who would willing to help with any thing they might want done, from recommending hotels to arranging a wake of sorts. But what you remember most are her quiet sobs in between murmured thank-yous as you speak to her about her lost son. Not just of his death, but of his life.