Horatio looked around and realized he had been deep in thought and hadn't paid attention to where Calleigh was driving. Neither of them had spoken since they left the pier, and Horatio had assumed they were going back to the lab. But it looked as though she was driving him home. Hoping he was wrong, he asked, "Where are we going?"
"We're dropping by your house so you can get a fresh shirt and coat. If you don't want Alexx to fuss over you, you're going to need change." He knew she was right. They pulled into his driveway, and Calleigh put the truck in park. "I'll wait out here," she said. This was a side of her he had never seen. He knew she could be firm when necessary, but he had never seen her be so gentle at the same time. He got out of the truck and went inside to change.
Half an hour later, Horatio entered in his office at the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. He sat down in the chair behind his desk and pulled out his phone, dialing long distance.
The voice on the other end answered, "Mac Taylor."
"Mac, it's Horatio Caine."
"Horatio! To what do I owe the honor of this call?"
"It's Ed O'Neil, Mac."
"What's going on?" Mac asked, concerned. "Is he okay?"
Horatio sighed. There wasn't much about being a Lieutenant that he disliked. Except for this. This he hated. "He was killed by a gunman in Miami today." The image of his friend lying dead on the pavement burned in his mind.
"A gunman?" Mac asked. "Was anyone else killed?"
"No. Ed was the only one."
"Wait. You said he was in Miami? I thought he was living in Atlanta."
"He was, but he called last night to say he was flying down today. He didn't say why, but I could tell he was upset." Horatio said.
"So did you find out what was wrong?"
"I didn't. He only talked about Linda." Horatio could tell by the silence on the other end of the line that Mac didn't understand. "They were going through a divorce, and he was having a tough time dealing with it. But there was something else. Mac, he seemed almost scared. I was trying to get him to open up to me when the first bullet shattered the windshield. I can't help but think there's a connection between all of this."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because, my friend, we were parked at a crowded pier, and Ed was the only one shot."
"It could have been a coincidence, Horatio."
"I don't believe in coincidences, Mac. Besides, no one else was even fired upon."
Mac had a feeling that wasn't entirely true. "What about you?"
Horatio hesitated. He didn't want to tell Mac about his shoulder. "I was shot at, but only because I was shooting at him. Until I fired my first shot, Ed was the only one being targeted."
Mac was starting to understand. "So, how's the investigation coming?"
"It's not," Horatio replied. "The Feds are claiming jurisdiction in this case."
"That's never stopped you before," Mac said.
Horatio smiled tiredly. Mac knew him well. "I'll let you know when the funeral is."
"Please do. And, Horatio, if there's anything I can do…"
"Thanks, Mac. I will." Horatio closed his phone and leaned back in his chair. His head was still throbbing, and the pain in his shoulder was growing worse by the minute. There was a knock at the door. "Come in."
Frank opened the door and stepped in. He took one look at Horatio and said, "You look like hell."
"I feel like it, too." He knew if he didn't take something for the pain he wouldn't be able to focus. "Do you have any Tylenol?"
"Sure," Frank said. "Let me just get it out of my purse for you."
They both chuckled. Horatio had always appreciated the Texan's sense of humor, and right now it was a welcome relief. Frank's smile faded as his mood became serious. "I heard about your friend. I'm sorry. Eric told me the Feds are pulling that jurisdiction crap on you again. What are you going to do?"
"First, I'm going to find that purse of yours and get some Tylenol. Then I'm going over to the hotel Ed checked into. Feel like going for a ride?"
"Sure," Frank said. "But, based on the way you look, I think I'll do the driving."
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Frank parked the squad car across the street from the Hyatt Regency and quickly spotted the black FBI vehicles already in front of the hotel. "They don't waste any time, do they?" asked Frank.
"Are you surprised?" Horatio had suspected the Feds might be there, but he had also hoped he would be wrong. His plan had been to arrive in time to get in and get out before the Feds showed up. He had wanted to go through some of Ed's things, in hopes that something would give him a clue as to why he had been killed. Obviously, that was not going to happen now. Since they were already there, Horatio took the opportunity to fill Frank in on the details of the morning's incident. He decided against telling Frank about his shoulder.
The two of them talked for some time as they watched the federal agents come and go. Suddenly, there was a knock on the passenger side window. Horatio looked up to see the blonde female agent from the crime scene at the pier. He opened the door and stepped out, and Frank followed suit.
"Lieutenant Caine," she said. "Can I help you with something?" She seemed charming but guarded.
Frank spoke up. "Yeah. Why don't you tell us why the feds are so--"
"Frank." Horatio cut him off but never let his eyes leave the agent's. "I was just filling Detective Tripp in on what happened this morning."
"I see," she replied skeptically. "And you felt it was necessary to come all the way down here to 'fill him in'."
She was unlike any other female agent Horatio had dealt with. For one, she was young. She can't be much older than 25. But there was something else about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He studied her a moment before responding. "Earlier this morning I picked up Detective Ed O'Neil from this hotel. I was just going back over the morning's events…" He knew it sounded foolish, but the pain in his shoulder was spreading up his neck, making it hard for him to think clearly. Horatio squeezed his eyes shut and in that moment he was very glad to be wearing his sunglasses. He did not want either of them to know he was in pain.
Frank stared at him in surprise. He had never known Horatio to have difficulty convincing anyone of anything. He began to suspect that Horatio was in worse shape than he let on. When Horatio had asked him earlier for Tylenol, Frank hadn't thought much of it, but now he was beginning to wonder if there was something more to it.
After a moment the agent smiled genuinely at Horatio. "Alright, Lieutenant. I'm sorry to have bothered you. Here's my card. If you have questions, please contact me, although I can't promise you answers." She started to walk away, but stopped and turned to face the two men. "I won't mention this to Special Agent Webster." She flashed another smile at them and headed back to the hotel.
Horatio removed his sunglasses and looked down at the card she had handed him. Rebecca Locke. Frank, stunned by the abrupt change in the agent's demeanor, asked, "What the hell just happened?"
Horatio smiled, slightly and said, "I honestly have no idea." Without thinking, he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension in his muscles.
"Horatio…" Frank hesitated. "You alright?" As soon as he said it he realized how pointless it was to ask. He knew that even if somethingwas wrong, Horatio wouldn't admit it.
"Yes, Frank. I'm fine." He didn't want to admit the truth. The pain was getting to him more than he expected. "I'm just sore, that's all."
"Sore from what?"
Horatio gave a look that let Frank know to drop the subject. Frank put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Fine. I'll stop nagging. But…never mind. You ready to go?" Horatio nodded. "Where to?" Frank asked.
Horatio thought about it for a moment. "Let's get back to the lab. I have some things I need to do before I go home."
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Horatio Caine sat in darkness. His office lights were off and the blinds were closed, and yet it wasn't dark enough for him. He was trying to relax, but every time he closed his eyes he saw Ed lying dead on the pavement. He would have settled for silence, but the sound of bullets ricocheting off the Hummer thundered in his ears.
He stared at the cell phone lying on his desk, wishing there was some way to avoid the inevitable. Linda. How many wives had learned they were widows through a phone call from him? This one was different, though. He had never had to deliver the news to a wife who was in the middle of filing for divorce. He reluctantly picked up his phone and called directory assistance. Less than a minute later Linda O'Neil's phone was ringing.
"Hello?" he heard her say.
He swallowed hard; he hadn't spoken to her in years. "Linda…it's Horatio." An uncomfortably long silence followed. Linda had been a detective's wife long enough to recognize the tone in his voice.
"Hello, Horatio."
He wanted to speak, but he couldn't seem to find the words he needed. He had done this so many times. He couldn't understand why this call was so difficult.
"It's Ed, isn't it?" Linda asked, though she already knew the answer.
"I'm sorry, Linda." There was another pause.
"Um…" He could tell she was struggling for words. "What…how…"
"He was shot today, here in Miami." He knew the questions that would follow, so rather than make her ask, he went ahead and answered. "We were down at the pier when we were fired upon. Ed covered me when I went after the shooter. Without him, I couldn't have done it. There were dozens of civilians around, and he was determined to protect them."
"Were you with him when…"
"I was with him." Horatio knew that was not the truth. He had not been with Ed when he died, but this was an instance where Linda's peace of mind was more important than details. He waited for her to respond, but after a minute passed without her speaking, he continued. "We got the guy who did it. He's--"
"It's my fault," she interrupted.
Horatio, unsure if he had heard her correctly said, "I beg your pardon?"
"It'smy fault, Horatio. I drove him to it."
"To what, Linda?"
She sighed heavily. "Ed didn't want you to find out, but now…I guess it's time you knew." She began slowly. "When we moved down here to Atlanta a few years ago, Ed was hoping to make a fresh start on the force. The pressure he had been getting from the other cops in New York got to be too much for him. He knew which guys were crooked, and it was no secret that he knew. He was considering going to the chief and exposing everyone when he started getting threats. We knew we had to leave, and Atlanta seemed like such a perfect situation. After seventeen years of being in Homicide in New York he was ready for a change.
The APD put him with the Narcotics division, and, for a while, it seemed ideal. He would come home at night happier than I had seen him in years. We had a nice house in a good neighborhood, and the kids attended a great school. But I wasn't satisfied. I started seeing what the other detectives' families had, and I wanted that. They had the best houses in the nicest neighborhoods and drove the fanciest cars. I kept asking Ed why we didn't have what the other families had, and…I blamed him. I accused him of not working hard enough. And…that's when things started to change.
"First, it was the new house in the upscale neighborhood. Then it was the brand new Mercedes for my birthday. We even enrolled our kids in exclusive private schools. I thought I was happy. I mean, I had gotten my wish, hadn't I? Everything we wanted we had, and for the first time in our marriage, money wasn't an issue." Linda took a deep breath. "But then I discovered why."
Horatio was speechless as questions flooded his mind. It was drugs? He wondered how he could have been so mistaken about Ed.
Linda continued. "One day I was cleaning out the closet and came across several shoeboxes full of hundred dollar bills. I didn't count the money, Horatio, but I know there had to have been close to half-a-million dollars in there. When Ed got home that night I confronted him about the cash, but, of course, he denied that he had gotten it illegally. I think he told me that he won it gambling or something. I don't really remember. I just know that I didn't believe him. We fought, and…it got ugly."
"Did he hit you?" Horatio never thought he would have to ask that about Ed O'Neil.
"No. He never hit me. In fact, he never touched me at all after that. I hoped that this was just a one-time deal for him, and that maybe, whatever it was, it would stop. But it didn't. It just got worse. He started shutting me out completely. I tried to get him to open up, but he wouldn't. Before long he was coming home later and later in the evenings until, one night, he didn't come home at all. We didn't see or hear from him for forty-eight hours. When he did show up, he looked like he had been to hell and back. His clothes were torn, and he had been beaten up badly. I tried to take him to the hospital, but he refused to go. I figured out then that it was drugs. I was sure Ed wasn't using, but I knew he had to be taking bribes from guys on the street. And I had a feeling he wasn't alone. I had started to suspect that most of the guys in Narcotics were crooked. At least it seemed that way. It began reminding me of New York, but this time Ed was on the wrong side of things.
"Finally, I got fed up and told him I was leaving and taking the kids with me. He didn't think I would actually do it, so when he came home one night and saw we were gone, he panicked. I had taken some of the money I had found in the closet to give us something to live on. I'm pretty sure he never even noticed, or if he did, he didn't say anything.
"The kids and I had been staying with friends in Savannah for a month, when one afternoon Ed showed up at the front door. He told me he was trying to clean up his act and wanted us back. Frankly, I wasn't convinced. Once you get your hands on that kind of money, you don't just quit. He came back to Savannah again two weeks ago, asking for another chance. He said he was quitting the force, and a friend had offered him a job with a security company. I had heard him make promises like that before, but this time…it was different.He was different. In fifteen years of marriage, I don't think I had ever seen him cry, but that day he broke down and sobbed. I think he was frightened, but of what, I don't know."
Horatio remembered thinking the same thing when he was with Ed earlier in the morning. He had seemed frightened. "Linda, he called last night to say he was coming down to Miami. When he got here today I knew something was wrong. I was doing what I could to get it out of him, but he only talked about you and the kids. He told me you were getting divorced but didn't explain why. I never got the chance to find out what was troubling him." Horatio gritted his teeth in frustration.
"Are you in charge of the investigation?"
"No. I wish I was, but the FBI has jurisdiction, and there isn't anything I can do about that."
"The FBI? Why? Do they know about Ed being…dirty? Is that it?"
"If they don't already, they will. And yet, somehow I think this is all related. I just don't know how, at least not yet."
"Will you find out, Horatio?" she asked through her tears. "For Ed?"
"I will, Linda. I promise." They said their goodbyes and hung up. A low groan escaped from Horatio's throat as he went to stand. The stress of the day had taken its toll on him. He rubbed his eyes and exhaled slowly, longing for the days when he could work all night without it getting to him. But he was 47 now, and his body wasn't about to let him forget it.
His office phone chirped, taking his mind off his aching muscles. Alexx's voice sounded concerned. "Honey, how are you feeling? I heard you had a rough day." Horatio sincerely hoped no one had told her about his injury.
"I'm fine, Alexx. I'm just a little tired."
"Then get to bed. Doctor's orders." Since she had said nothing about his shoulder, he assumed she didn't know.
"I will, Doctor. Thank-you. I'll see you tomorrow." As soon as he hung up, his cell phone vibrated on his desk. He picked it up and saw that he had a text message. He pushed a button and read the short message. "Found in Ed's pocket." A picture flashed on the screen of a piece of notebook paper with the words Corruption continues with us beyond the grave.Horatio stared at the words for a moment. He looked to see who had sent the message but it was from an e-mail address he didn't recognize. He was too tired to try and figure out who had sent it, but he assumed it was someone within the FBI. No one else would have access to this evidence.
Horatio considered responding to the message, but decided against it. He glanced at the picture one more time. Corruption continues with us beyond the grave.He was now certain that Ed's murder was connected to his involvement with drugs in Atlanta. But how?
