Little Horatio: I left clues here, just so you'd know. I'm gradually unfolding my plot. I think it's obvious, really. Leave some comments if you think I'm on to something. Or if you think you know what I'm implying.
Bet you can't. =D
Chapter 7: Abducted
Horatio's jaw tightened as he stood over the victim, a young nurse barely finished with her twenties. The cause of death was obvious, a shot to the back, shattering a rib, going through the heart. She was killed instantly, hitting the floor before she could feel the pain.
The lieutenant closed his eyes and craned his neck as he felt his anger start to rise. The victim was shot at the back, he repeated to himself in his head. He already knew something about the killer with that kind information. The killer was a coward.
"Poor girl," Dr. Alexx Woods said sadly as she examined the body further for other signs of injury. "Died before she started to live."
Horatio opened his eyes, hearing what his chief coroner said.
"Don't worry, baby," Alexx said to the motionless body of Roxanne Mayer, "we'll get the one who did this to you."
And Horatio silently agreed, looking once more at the face of the lifeless Roxanne, who Alexx had turned only moments ago.
The guilty will be put down.
"Horatio," called out Calleigh Duquesne, who's currently processing the scene. "Over here."
The redhead went over to her side, carefully walking as to not destroy any potential evidence in the crime scene. He saw, in her hand, a small evidence bag with a single bullet casing inside. On the other, a small stuffed toy, a bear the size of a small cell phone.
"Wesley..."
Calleigh looked at her boss with sad eyes, wondering what he was thinking and how he was able to keep himself calm.
"It's hers, isn't it? Madison's."
Horatio didn't answer. Instead, he took the small toy—Wesley—with a gloved left hand, looking at it with expressionless eyes.
"I gave it to her...thinking that she'd like it," Horatio said, not being able to feel its fur as he held it because of his glove. "It was the year a found out about her..."
Calleigh nodded in understanding, yet still unsure on how to react. Madison Keaton was kidnapped at the early hour of the morning, along with Diana Teslar, her substitute teacher.
"She eventually named it Wesley," he continued, examining the features of the stuffed bear, its beady eyes and round nose. "Never saw her without it."
"We'll find her, Horatio," Calleigh said with assurance, "and Diana."
The lieutenant merely nodded, still staring at the little stuffed toy.
Madison's been kidnapped, he said in his head. And I'm like this...
His gaze fell on his right arm, which was presently hanging limp in the sling he was strained to wear. He was still recovering. He wasn't at his peak condition. He wasn't even supposed to be out and in charge of a crime scene yet. The minute he found out about the abduction, he knew he had to go, had to ride with Calleigh to the crime scene, had to see if it was all real.
It was.
Now, Madison needed him, and he cursed under his breath, knowing that he wouldn't be able to give his all for her.
Not like this...
They were supposed to be spending time with each other later today, he remembered; to talk, to laugh, to bond. But, that wasn't going to happen, not now...
He clutched the toy hard, its form disfiguring.
The thought came in an instant; everybody knew about his condition, everybody who watched the news: co-workers, friends, family, strangers...enemies. Everybody.
His jaw tightened even more. ANYBODY could have taken her, he thought. They used the opportunity, making their move, knowing that he was incapacitated in some way, and they took her...from her school, from her mother, from him.
"Horatio," spoke Calleigh, attempting to get her boss back to reality. She noticed what he was doing, what he was thinking. She had to shake him from his thoughts. He was getting angry, she knew. And all she needed to do was look. His eyes gave him away.
The redhead's attention came back, and he relaxed his hand, letting the bear resume its form. He was about to hand Wesley over; to be put in an evidence bag, when something stopped him. There was blood at the back of its head.
Calleigh literally saw him stiffen.
"The blood..." she heard herself say, "...it's not consistent with the arterial spray."
She had to be careful. She didn't want Horatio's focus to cloud, even if he was known for his daunting patience, and self-possession. She didn't want to take the risk, especially when somebody too close was involved.
"It's not a gravitational droplet either," Calleigh continued. The shade of red was darker, there were some smears, and there was already a little coagulation. "Madison must have been holdin' Wesley while she had a cut on one of her fingers. Most probable reason why she'd come here," she indicated, "to get it clean and treated."
Horatio nodded, fully absorbing her words, thinking that it was possible that that's what happened. That was the only thing he was willing to accept right now, nothing else.
He took one last look before he gave the toy to Calleigh, watching as it got bagged and tagged.
Alexx was already heading back to the MDPD autopsy lab, accompanying the late Roxanne Mayer who was still a little warm. So, without uttering a word, he removed his glove and stepped out the crime scene, with thoughts swirling chaotically in his mind. He suppressed them.
Horatio got out the school building, and into the open, seeing squad cars and police officers taking statements from witnesses. He also saw some of the students who're watching, worry in their young eyes but also curiosity, wondering what was going on inside their school, their second home.
When the students of Saint Luke's Academy saw the redheaded man looking at them, observing them, they averted their gaze; the ones looking from the hallway and out the classroom windows. They knew who he was (almost everybody in Miami did). They knew what he did for a living (they see him on the news). And they knew his purpose for being here (they heard the teachers and the gunshots). They didn't dare look back, not wanting to see his piercing azure eyes for the second time, watching them.
Horatio pulled out his sunglasses and covered his eyes, blocking the rays coming from the Miami sun and also hiding his treacherous eyes. He knew that they were giving him away, his emotions, his thoughts, everything. So it's just best to keep them hidden.
"Horatio," Detective Frank Tripp called out near the gate. He was just about to wrap up with the patrol officer he was talking to.
A short and awkward silence surrounded the two of them when the redhead got to him. It was obvious that Tripp felt the tension and was becoming more uncomfortable than he imagined. He was struggling on what words to use to start their conversation.
"The witnesses, Frank," Horatio said, giving a start for him to take. He didn't blame him.
"Uh, yeah," Tripp was able to utter. He cleared his throat. "One of the P.E. teachers saw two weird-lookin' janitors at the back of the gym, arguin'. Teacher said he never saw 'em before." He opened his little black notebook, flipping through the pages. "Said that both of 'em look to be in their mid 50s; one's about six-two and the other...about five-eleven."
He flipped to the next page.
"And a 9th grader skippin' class saw a suspicious-lookin' guy—average build, early 20s—wearin' jeans and a MAINTENANCE shirt," he said in his Texan drawl. "Kid said it was obvious that the guy was a fake, and an idiot for wearin' a red shirt. The academy's official colour is maroon."
One of the school's security guards, out back, saw 'em when they were headin' out," he added. "Tried to stop 'em, but couldn't; almost ended up as road-kill when he tried to get in the way. Got a few letters on the license plate though."
Tripp sighed. "And, uh, that's about it."
"Have you contacted Madison's mother? Suzie?"
"No. I haven't contacted anybody yet."
Horatio caught sight of CSI Wolfe heading towards them, carrying his crime scene kit, so he ended their conversation by saying, "Just leave that job to me, okay?"
"Sure."
"H," Ryan said, joining in.
"Mister Wolfe."
"Just finished with the crime scene at the back entrance," the young CSI informed, sweat trickling from his forehead, because of the Miami heat. CSI Eric Delko wasn't with them at this one. He was assigned earlier to an attempted homicide. "Nothing—"
"Excuse me," interrupted a patrol officer. It was Jessop. "We've found the vehicle."
"Where?"
"Abandoned, three miles down Lafayette, sir."
"Okay." The Lieutenant placed his hands on his hips. "Mister Wolfe, see to it that the vehicle in question gets a thorough before transport."
Ryan nodded.
"Frank, post a few officers here to heighten security."
"Got it, H."
"Officer Jessop will be in charge."
"Yes, sir."
"And gentlemen..." Horatio added before they left. "...keep me posted."
The men gave him a nod in understanding, then dispersed, leaving in opposite directions.
Horatio took out his cell phone and pressed speed dial.
"Paula, this is Lieutenant Caine," he said, phone pressed against his ear. "I was wondering if Mister Cage left something for me...Yes, the young man."
He listened.
"I thought so..."
~~~~CSI: MIAMI~~~~
Too lazy to prepare anything warm in his little kitchen, he decided to just have cereal for breakfast. He went to his mini fridge and took out a gallon of milk and two boxes of cereal. It would just have to do, he thought, for the time being.
He placed the items on the table along with the spoon and cereal bowl he took from the utensil drawer and cabinet, yawning after he did so. He pulled out his cell phone from one of his pyjama pockets, and placed it on the table as well.
You won't know who might be calling at this time of day, he thought.
He took both of the cereal boxes, one in each hand, and poured them together into the bowl, mixing its contents. He was about to pour the milk right after, when somebody called from behind.
"Hello?"
He froze, fingers inches away from the gallon of milk. He frowned and ignored the call, continuing for the milk. But the voice coming from his room was persistent.
"Hey. I know you're there. You can stop ignoring me now."
"Can't," he said over his shoulder. "Busy."
"Then make yourself not busy."
The young man sighed, reluctantly standing up. He went inside his bedroom, only to come out carrying a laptop in his hand. He placed it on the table, next to his breakfast, and lifted the top. The screen flickered.
"What took you so long?" the person on the screen asked.
"I was...in the middle of something."
The camera extension on the laptop pointed downwards. "Breakfast?"
"And for that you win a prize," the younger said, digging his fingers into his cereal. He brought a ... "A clover."
"That's a marshmallow," the individual replied, not amused.
The brunette shrugged, and threw the marshmallow in his mouth. "Good morning, Daxlin."
"No such thing—Cage, this time, right?" Daxlin asked, just to be sure.
"Yup."
"Like I said...no such thing, Cage," Daxlin repeated, leaning back in his chair. Other monitors appeared behind him, flickering in the background. His desk was messy. "Not in our world, anyway," he grinned.
"Stop reminding me."
The camera extension on top of the portable computer turned a good 360 degrees. Daxlin frowned.
"Done surveying the scene, Dax?" asked Cage, popping another marshmallow in his mouth. His breakfast would have to wait.
"Don't tell me this place is where you're staying."
"Okay. I won't."
"Didn't they provide you with—oh, I don't know—a fully furnished condominium, or something?" Daxlin said, not hiding his sarcasm. "You are working for them."
"They did, actually," Cage said to him. "I just didn't take it. Might have been bugged, you know."
"Want me to send some stuff over?" he offered, his face already near the screen, and his fingers hovering over the surface of his keyboard, ready to type.
"No, thanks, I'm fine," Cage told him. He watched Daxlin as he leaned back on his seat again. "Anyway, what does the great Daxlin want?"
"You wouldn't want to know," Daxlin said, chuckling at his own little inside joke. "Anyway, how did yesterday go?"
Cage recalled the conversation he had with Lieutenant Caine. You're too young...
"I'd say pending."
Daxlin shifted in his seat. "What do you mean 'pending'?"
"Undecided, unfinished, awaiting," Cage enumerated. "You know...pending."
"I know what pending means, kid," Daxlin said. This was not the time to be making jokes. "I'm asking why."
Cage smiled. Daxlin's more used to calling him 'kid.' The man's way older than him, anyway.
"Ask Lieutenant Caine."
Daxlin sighed. "The boss isn't going to like this one bit, kid. He was expecting you to be right on it and outta there in a month's time."
"What does this face say, Dax?" Cage asked him, pointing at his own face.
"I know, I know, you don't care," Daxlin said, waving his hand as if to change the subject. "What if you don't get in, anyway?"
"That's not my problem anymore."
"Yeah, but what if?"
Cage was about to answer when his cell phone vibrated. He gestured to Daxlin to be quiet.
"Yes?" Cage answered, serious now. "Okay...I'm on my way." He closed his cell.
"You were saying?" Daxlin said after the short call.
Cage sighed, pocketing his cell phone.
"FBI can kiss my ass."
Little Horatio: You heard right. The Feds.
Ryan: And why would you put the Feds in this?
Little Horatio: It's a secret. You have to wait like everyone else.
Ryan: Speaking of waiting...where are the guys? They suddenly disappeared. (Looking from left to right)
Little Horatio: Maybe your face scared them off. (Laughs)
Ryan: Hah! Your breath tells me different.
Little Horatio: Well, your BO is telling me something else.
Ryan: Damn it! (Shouted in defeat)
Little Horatio: (Smiling broadly) Loser.
Ryan: Shut up.