A/N: Ugh, I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm usually better about updating. This chapter started off okay, but the more I wrote the more stuck I got. But I figured before I enter another so-busy-I'm-going-to-keel-over-and-die week of school, I'd better just finish the chapter. I promise better quality next week.

Also, this chapter deviates a little bit from my usual mode of storytelling. There is, for the first time, an appearance by the team members.

Warnings: Some language. Some slightly sexual…ideas. But nothing blatantly sexual.

Disclaimer: You think I what?! Own CSI: Miami?! Give me a break.

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Even as he stood there, Kyle Harmon couldn't quite figure out how this particular situation had come to pass. He didn't know why he was holding his cell phone flipped open in his hand. He didn't know why can of ground coffee was now spilled all over the floor. But he especially did not know why Leslie Anders was standing in his kitchen, covered by nothing but a flimsy towel.

He stood there, fighting the hotness threatening to take over his body. He focused on her eyes, trying desperately to distract his wandering mind.

She apparently noticed his discomfort, for she shrunk back a little and crossed her arms across her towel.

Kyle swallowed. "Er…what happened to your…um…clothes?"

A small smile followed by a slight frown lighted her face. "Those damn neighbors of yours, Kyle. They stole my clothes while I was swimming, and the clasp on my swimsuit top broke." She held up small piece of fabric that had evidently been her swimsuit. Inwardly, Kyle laughed. Leslie was a sweet girl, but she wasn't modest.

Focusing on her statement, Kyle tried to piece together information. The nearly naked girl in front of was causing his mind to go oddly blank. A figment of memory slid into place. Leslie. Swimming. She had come over to swim on the beach behind his apartment complex. He thought about her other words. Neighbors?

The Brodsky twins. The two young men lived in the Beachside complex, but were a building over. They were annoying pranksters who Kyle had quickly learned to avoid.

So they had taken her clothes, and her top was broken. This realization hit Kyle straight in the face…or lower, perhaps…but he quickly recovered. "They're probably still around. I'll try to find your clothes."

She smiled her thanks. He collected himself and headed for the back door of his apartment. "Kyle?"

He turned. She pointed to his phone. "Did you need to call someone?"

He had forgotten that he was even holding the phone. He looked at it, trying to remember why he was carrying it. On the screen, the words missed call blinked several times. He pressed enter on the phone. The screen showed a phone number, and a name listed at the top—Dad.

Kyle spent only a second wondering why his father had called, but quickly brushed it off. He needed to get Leslie some clothes ASAP, if not for her sake, then for his. He would call his father back later.

"No, it's just my Dad," Kyle answered Leslie. She nodded. He took off out the back door in search of clothes, and hopefully, some self control.

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Two Hours Earlier

Horatio entered the lab to find Ryan Wolfe processing a shirt. "What do we have, Mr. Wolfe?" The lieutenant asked.

"Spatter on the vic's shirt, and gunshot residue. Based on the pattern on the shirt and the entry wound of the bullet, I think the residue came from our shooter."

Horatio had been tied up all day in this case. A young woman in her mid-twenties had been found gunned down outside a nightclub. They had only just found the identity of the woman—her name was Mariah Sanchez.

"Calleigh recovered a round, and she's using special processing to try and restore the bullet. We may be able to match striation marks," Ryan mentioned as he continued to swab the shirt.

"Okay. Keep my posted," Horatio answered. Horatio exited and walked to the ballistics lab. He hoped to get a match of the striations.

Calleigh greeted him with her usual cheeriness.

"The bullet was from a .45 Luger. I ran the striations and got a hit on a gun owned by a man named Pierre Guiree."

Horatio wasted no time in calling up Frank and having Pierre Guiree brought in for questioning.

"I have no idea vat you're talking about," The man said in a heavy French accent.

"Let's cut the crap," Horatio said. "We can match the bullet from your gun to the bullet found in Mariah Sanchez."

The young man, who had dark features and who looked about twenty-five, fidgeted nervously. "That gun vas stolen from me."

Horatio smiled a cunning smile. "Yes, I'm sure it was. Why don't you tell us what's really going on? Who are you covering for?"

Pierre stopped fidgeting. "Vat makes you think I would tell you anything?"

Frank stepped forward. "Hey frenchie, you ever heard of the phrase 'Don't mess with Texas? Well I'm Texas. So why don't you start talking?"

Pierre sighed and looked away. "Okay, I'll tell you. I just moved here on a student visa. I have not had much money. One night I talk to this man in a bar, and we start talking about guns. I tell him that I own a Luger, and he's says that vill get me much money. Then he gives me directions to this man who vill buy the gun from me. So I do it. This man pay in cash. Then nothing more. I don't see him again."

"So this man you sold the gun to…he buys and sells weapons on the black market?" Horatio asked.

The Frenchman shrugged. "I do not know. But the man says not to tell anyone about it." Pierre paused. "I'm not sure…but I think I overhear other man call him 'Paul.'"

Horatio nodded, convinced by the man's words. "Where did you meet him?"

Pierre wrote down a location. Horatio took it and thanked the man. "You're free to go."

The lieutenant watched him go, but was interrupted by Frank. "Horatio, I think I may know who Mr. Guiree was talking about."

Horatio turned to face his friend. The Texan continued. "Paul Brodsky. He's got a twin brother Phillip. They're known for their little weapons operation, but we've never been able to get any real evidence on them."

Horatio frowned. The names seemed familiar somehow, but he couldn't quite place them. "Thank you, Frank." Horatio said.

The detective nodded and left. Horatio walked into the hall, intending to go to his office, but he was interrupted by Ryan.

"H, I think you're going to want to see this."

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Present Time

Kyle walked across the short space between apartment buildings. He climbed the stairs to the second floor. Kyle wasn't sure exactly which room was the Brodsky twins', but he knew that it was a room that faced his building. He began to knock on doors.

He tried not to think of Leslie, standing near naked in his kitchen. To say that he had never thought of her in a sexual way would be the worst kind of lie, but he did make an effort to keep his thoughts of her platonic. Today he was not doing so well in that endeavor.

As he reached the third door, he raised his hand to knock and then paused. Suppose he just stopped looking, then went back to his kitchen and told Leslie that he couldn't find her clothes? Suppose he said and did just the right things? Suppose that this was his opportunity?

It was a tempting thought. The door of opportunity seemed wide open. Yet, a small portion of his heart tugged at him. It wasn't fair to take advantage of her like that. All she wanted was some clothes…

The two voices battled in his head. Twice he turned to walk back to his apartment before changing his mind and facing the door again. He was stuck.

Luckily, it was a decision he never had to make. For at that moment he was knocked backwards down the flight of stairs that he had climbed only minutes before.

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½ Hour Earlier/ Present Time

All the pieces had fallen together. The team had discovered that Phillip Brodsky had been present at the same nightclub that Mariah Sanchez had been at the night she had been murdered. Witnesses claimed that the two had had an altercation. Between that and the match to the gun Paul had bought, Phillip was looking good for the young woman's murder.

But Horatio had a whole other worry on his mind. A search of Phillip and Paul Brodsky had brought up the two men's address—Beachside Apartment complex. Horatio was on the phone within a minute, dialing Kyle's number. It rang four times, and then went to voicemail. Horatio called again, this time while heading towards the Hummer. Voicemail again.

Now Horatio, along with his team, was racing towards the apartments. Even with the siren of his hummer blaring, and the speedometer reaching nearly 80 mph, Horatio felt like it was taking forever to reach his destination. A now familiar worry was settling over him. For a moment he almost laughed—even when his son wasn't doing anything wrong he found himself in trouble. But then the dread returned. He recognized the sick, knotting feeling that enveloped his gut as an emotion reserved for his son. It was a kind of worry that he felt for Kyle alone.

Horatio finally screeched into Beachside Complex. He was practically out of the car before it even came to a stop. The others pulled up beside him. Frank, in his police uniform, drew a gun. Horatio did the same.

"They're in the far left building, Horatio. Room 23," Frank drawled.

Horatio did not want to speak. He wanted to arrest somebody. He nodded and led the way between the left building and the middle building, which was where Kyle's apartment was. Frank and Eric followed.

Horatio could see the stairs leading to the upper floor, where room 23 was, was at the backside of the building near the beach. The team had to wind their way past the gardens and fountains that blocked their view of the beach.

When Horatio cleared the last garden he became aware of several things at once. One of his suspects, Paul Brodsky, was running towards the beach. The same suspect was covered in blood. Kyle was lying at the base of the stairs, holding his side.

Kyle was only twenty feet from Horatio. The suspect was forty. Horatio rushed towards his son, all thought of the suspect having left his mind. But before Horatio could reach him, Kyle got up. With what sounded to Horatio like "Oh, hell no," muttered under his breath, Kyle started running down the suspect.

It didn't last long. Kyle was a very fast runner, even injured as he apparently was. He caught up to Paul in a matter of seconds. He gave one last heave and tackled Paul onto the sand.

Horatio didn't know whether to be worried or amused. Kyle got up with a pained look on his face. Frank and Eric had rushed over and cuffed Paul, and were now interrogating him about the whereabouts of his brother. Horatio hurried to Kyle.

"Nice job," Horatio said with the hint of a smile. Kyle smiled back. "You okay?"

"Ya, I'm fine. My side hurts a bit from my tumble down the stairs. The bastard pushed me."

Horatio raised his eyebrows and gave a small scorn over Kyle's choice of words. "I would still like to have the EMT take a look at you."

Kyle barely suppressed an eye roll. "I'm fine."

"This isn't up for negotiation."

Frank appeared behind Horatio. "We found the twin, Horatio." Horatio turned as if expecting to see the young man there. "We found his body in the apartment."

Kyle and Horatio wore identical looks of surprise. Frank continued, "it looks like Paul was actually behind Mariah Sanchez's murder, and he shot Phillip to keep him quiet."

Horatio nodded, processing the information. Kyle stepped forward. "I know this is kind of weird, but you didn't happen to find any girl's clothes in their apartment, did you?"

Frank didn't know what to make of that so he just answered the question. "I think I might have seen some lying on the table. Why?"

It took nearly a minute for Kyle to piece together an explanation.

Frank frowned. "Well it is a crime scene. I guess that would make it Horatio's call."

"Has Paul confessed to either murder?" Horatio asked.

"Ya, he confessed to shooting Paul. But he denies shooting the Sanchez girl."

Horatio nodded then turned to Kyle. "Let me process the clothes, and if I don't find anything on them, which I don't think I will, then you can have them back."

Kyle agreed then glanced back at his apartment. Horatio headed towards the crime scene. "Dad?" Kyle called suddenly.

Horatio turned. Kyle grinned. "Take your time."

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A/N: I am glad this chapter is done! Please read and review! It's going to be better next chapter, I promise.

Coming Up: Horatio, Yelina, Kyle, and Ray Jr. have an Easter dinner together. With that many Caines in one room, you know things are going to get out of hand!