A/N: Look in the intro for the usual stuff. Please R&R.
Ang: soon enough? 123: It isn't any easier. RS: Yes, well. Believe me you don't need to strangle him. H will do enough self-flagellation (There's a nice Catholic concept. Ties in with the whole perpetual guilt idea.)
The summer sun was still high in the sky when Annabel pulled into her parking place. She got out and slammed the door shut. Annabel winced a little at the sound. She ran her hand over her car door. She should have just left work directly. Not taken the taxi back and pretended to work. Annabel was glad that Tripp had taken the lead on the kid. Almost. Not chasing down leads meant she was in her office as everyone and their brother had come by to offer her congratulations. Annabel put on her best smile and looked to all the world a thoroughly happy new bride. She finished out her shift and practically sprinted from the building. The paperwork from HR lay left behind on the corner of her desk.
Annabel jogged up the stairs to her apartment. Minutes later she was changed and bumping her bike back down. As soon as she was outside, Annabel climbed on and started pedaling rapidly. A sharp burn sank into her muscles. She ignored it, knowing she was going to pay later. It had been too long. She tried to remember the last time she had ridden. The morning before Horatio had told her he loved her. With a grunt, she pushed past the pain in her legs and rode harder.
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Horatio didn't return to the lab. He drove. Roamed the streets. The call from Yelina confirmed what had nagged him since the airport. It was Ray Jr. Not in Brazil, here in Miami. Not with Yelina. Not safe. Far from safe. A flash of the boy in the alley burned across his mind. Gutted. A mule. A dead mule. Ray Jr. in Miami. Annabel. Everything else in his mind ground to a halt.
Horatio pulled into the closest parking lot and stopped. He sat straight up in the seat. Closed his eyes. Worked at calming his breathing, slowing his rapid pulse. The ache in his chest was close to unbearable. You wish it was as simple as a heart-attack. Horatio took deep breaths. He tried to push the demons back inside the box. No better than Pandora. Except you knew what would happen. You knew. And yet you still did it all. Built your house on the sand and now that house has crashed spectacularly down around you. And you took her with you. I tried to warn her. Liar. You threw out hints. Flashes. Never the whole truth and nothing but. You knew she couldn't resist the tragic hero. She let you see everything. Even when she was afraid you would turn away over it. You held back. Coward. Self-fulfilling prophesy. You wouldn't tell her because you thought she would run. She ran anyhow. You were right. You won. Mercifully, his cell rang. Horatio glanced at the display. You thought it would be her? Fool. Horatio flipped it open. "Eric?" His voice crackled.
"H. You okay, man?"
Horatio fought for control. "Fine, Eric. Talk to me."
"I think we've got a match to the trace on the kid's jeans and shoes."
Horatio listened as Eric ran down the particulars. "Got a location?"
"Yeah."
"Give it to me." Horatio listened and noted the location. "I'll meet you there." He started the Hummer and headed out.
The warehouse was deserted, but not empty when they arrived. Tire tracks criss-crossed the warehouse floor. There had been a large group of people using the office area. Inside were the remains of fast food, cigarettes, soiled clothing and empty laxative boxes.
"Definitely a drop zone. A well used one. Confirms what we found with the kid. Mules put through the ringer." Eric shook his head. "Who could do that to a kid?"
Horatio had no quick answer for him. No easy quip. He cleared his throat. "They don't see them as kids. They see them as cattle. Cheap to get, easy to herd, quick to cull if they can't keep up."
Eric shook his head. "People are sick."
"Yes, they are Eric. And we're the ones who cut out the cancer." Horatio looked around the office again. "Call Wolfe. You'll need some help."
Eric fished out his cell phone and started dialing. "Sure thing, H."
Horatio went out into the large open space. He crouched down to examine the tire tracks. Willing them to tell him where everyone had gone. Who were they? Was Ray Jr. with them? Was he still okay? How did he get here? What brought him to this? Where had everything gone wrong? Horatio's phone sounded, the distinctive ring echoing in the cavernous room. Horatio snapped it off his belt and flipped it open. He stood up.
"Yes." He bent his head and tucked his hand at his waist. "Good." His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "That's very good news. Is he okay? Did he say where he was? Can I talk to him?" He frowned. "Went right to bed. Okay. Okay. About…" His frowned deepened. "Yelina…" His mouth snapped shut. He listened. "Fine. Just remember if you need me. Anytime. Just call." Horatio shut his cell and hung it back on his belt. He stood very still for a few moments. There was some ease, but still too many questions. The timeline was still too loose. The alibi had holes. Big enough to fly a plane through. Eric approached Horatio.
"Ryan's on the way." Horatio just nodded, staring across the warehouse. Eric frowned. He looked tired. Not just tired. Weary. "Hey, H. Are you okay? Ya know it's just your first day back. If you need to…"
Horatio looked over and gave Eric a withering look. "I'm fine," he ground out.
Eric took a step back. "Okay." He left Horatio alone and started on processing the office. Horatio stood staring at the tire tracks.
A/N: PS: Okay. So, my muse seems to be fixated on pit digging. I'm working at convincing her that it's going to be hard to find a ladder that long. Wish me luck.