Chapter Two
As Natalia walked into the morgue, she saw Tom was there waiting for her, that morning's victim laid out on the table. Tom was reading through a thick file, his brows knitted in concentration. He looked up when she approached.
She smiled. "Hey, Tom."
"Good morning, Natalia," he answered cheerily, putting down the file.
"You find out anything about our jumper, Mr. Marcelino?" she asked.
Tom had a mischievous look in his eye. "Nothing."
She raised her eyebrows at him quizzically. "Nothing?"
"Besides having fallen from a nine-story building, there's not a thing wrong with him," Tom said. "No track marks. No tumors. Perfectly healthy internal organs. I've read his entire medical record and he might just be the healthiest man I've ever seen. Aside from being dead, of course."
"The officer that witnessed the suicide said Mr. Marcelino was acting erratic," Natalia said, frowning. "As if he were under the influence of a mind-altering drug."
"If he was, it wasn't one that left any noticeable damage to his system," Tom said.
"What about mental illness?" she suggested.
"There's nothing in his medical records about being treated for any kind of psychiatric disorder," Tom told her, handing her the file. "If he had one, his doctors didn't know about it."
"Well, certain conditions can come out pretty much any time, right?" she said, skimming through the file. "Can't schizophrenics have their first psychotic break into their thirties and forties?"
"Yes, but somehow I don't think that's what happened here," Tom said thoughtfully. "If this was a break, it was an atypically violent one."
"Horatio's talking to his wife, seeing if there was anything that happened recently that may have sent him over the edge."
"And I have a present for you," Tom said, holding out three sample tubes full of dark red blood.
Natalia took them. "And it's not even my birthday. You shouldn't have."
He grinned.
"Do you mind if I take these with me?" she asked, holding up the file.
"It's all yours," he said.
"Great. Thanks for the blood samples, I'll run them for any foreign chemicals or trace."
-|x|-
Horatio sat with Gabriel Marcelino's widow, Helena, holding onto her hand as she tried to stifle her tears in the handkerchief he'd given her.
"This doesn't make any sense," she choked wetly. "He's never been depressed or angry or anything."
"Mrs. Marcelino, I know this is very difficult," Horatio said quietly. "I'm very sorry for your loss."
"Gabriel is my life," she pressed. "How am I supposed to make it without him? What do I tell my kids?"
"I don't know," Horatio said quietly, his heart suddenly aching for Marisol. "It's going to be hard…"
"Why didn't I realize something was wrong with him?" she cried. "Why didn't the doctors know?"
"Had he seen a doctor recently?"
"Yes," she said, wiping her nose. "He's been sick for a few days. He went to the clinic yesterday. The doctors told him they were worried about meningitis, but he would have to go to a real hospital to get the test."
"Meningitis could explain his behavior," Horatio remarked. "Did Gabriel get the test?"
She shook her head remorsefully. "I wanted to take him yesterday, but he wouldn't let me because I was going to be late for work. He promised to go himself."
"But he never did," Horatio finished for her.
She shook her head again, fresh sobs erupting from her throat. "He lost his job a few months ago. We lost our health insurance. I've been working in a café to make ends meet, but I don't get benefits… He probably thought we couldn't afford expensive tests…"
Horatio sat next to her silently, patting her hand supportively.
"Things were hard, but I thought we were happy," she sobbed. "And then Gabriel never came home last night… I called the police, but the officer I talked to said they couldn't help me unless he'd been gone for more than two days…"
Horatio's temper flared, but he quickly shoved it aside. He'd be having a word with that officer later.
"What am I going to do now?" she wailed, panic edging into her voice. "My husband had a life insurance policy, but the insurance company said they don't cover suicides! How am I supposed to take care of my children?"
She hiccupped wetly into the handkerchief, trying desperately to control herself.
She sighed. "You must think I'm horrible," she mumbled darkly. "Worrying about money after something like this…"
"I don't think you're horrible, Mrs. Marcelino," he assured her. "I think you're just worried about your family."
"I know you must hear this from every family that comes through here, but my husband would never do this," she insisted. "He would never kill himself. His older brother committed suicide when Gabriel was in high school. He knew what it would do to his family and he would never put us through it. He just wouldn't."
"I know it doesn't feel like it now, Mrs. Marcelino," Horatio said gently. "But you and your family are going to get through this. You'll be all right."
She tried to smile at him but it was shaky at best. "We can't even afford to live anymore," she said. "Everything just costs too much these days."
"Well, Mrs. Marcelino," Horatio told her. "I promise… I'm going to find out what happened to your husband. Because, you know what? Justice… is still free."
Author's Note: SECOND HORATIO ONE-LINER FTW! haha sorry, I'm loving this a little too much :D. Damn it, CBS, just hire me already! I'll practically work for free! ...and maybe the occasional date with Jonathan Togo. ;)
