Yelina Salas placed her purse down and made herself comfortable at her desk in the squad room, rubbing tiredly at her forehead.

She had waited up until the early hours of the morning expecting Ray to come home and hold her in his arms.

Word had spread quickly that the latest Narcotics sting had drawn to a close and she'd told Ray Jr that his father would be home soon. After weeks of barely seeing Ray, she was looking forward to spending some quality time with him.

Ray had been in a foul mood when he'd finally returned and barely said anything to her as he walked through the front door.

"Where have you been?" she asked, trying to keep the anger from her voice.

"Out," he replied, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it over a chair in the kitchen.

She loved her husband, but he could act like a petulant child when he wanted to.

"We were expecting you home hours ago. Where were you?"

"Just out. What's with the twenty questions?"

What had happened to the easy-going and fun-loving man she had married?

"Has something happened? Is something wrong?"

She reached out a hand and found it angrily shrugged away.

"I'm tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

How many times had he used that line on her?

What happened when they ran out of tomorrows?

She'd laid in bed next to him, listening to him tossing and turning throughout the night. She must have fallen asleep at some point, he was gone by the time she woke up this morning, leaving with nothing but a note saying:

Had to bail this morning, have an important meet to arrange. Love you x

She glanced at her phone, hoping that Ray would have called her by now. Both of them had a fiery temper and their arguments were often fierce. They would inevitably make up afterwards when one of them extended an olive branch of conciliation toward the other.

Glancing up from her phone, she caught the sight of the unmistakable red hair of Ray's brother. She gasped when she saw the split lip and deep bruising on his cheek. She made her way toward him immediately.

"What happened?" she asked, lifting a hand to touch his injured face, immediately withdrawing it when she saw him take a step back.

He shrugged, trying to give off an air of nonchalance. "Just a scuffle with a perp. It's nothing to worry about."

She wasn't convinced that it was 'nothing'.

"It looks like they caught you pretty hard. Have you been checked out?"

Horatio frowned at her. "I wasn't paying attention and let my guard down. It's my own fault that I got pinned."

"Geez, Horatio," Frank Tripp remarked as he walked past. "What happened to you? You getting a face lift or something?"

Horatio attempted to smile, grimacing at the pain it caused. "Yeah, I've decided that I'm going to do one side at a time."

Frank smiled at the humorous rejoinder as he shook his head and walked toward his desk.

Horatio flinched as he felt something soft being held to his mouth, his eyes landing upon Yelina holding a handkerchief to his face.

"You're bleeding," she said, looking at him intently.

The gesture was unmistakably intimate and hadn't been missed by John Hagen who stood several feet away in the corridor.


Returning to his office, Horatio sat down heavily behind his desk, feeling a headache growing and settling behind his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, half in frustration and half in pain.

Of all the things he had expected Alexx to show him, the corpse in the morgue hadn't been one of them.

He hadn't recognised the man, yet the similarities between his post mortem and that of Raymond were almost identical. There were too many similarities for it to be just a coincidence.

Horatio had wracked his brain on the walk back to his office, trying desperately to recall anything from the night of his attack. No matter how hard he tried, everything was still a jumbled mess of colours and sounds.

He'd already taken his frustration out on Alexx today. His inability to recall the details of what happened that night ate at him. He wasn't used to not being in control. There were too many factors that still didn't make sense to him.

Most of the first week or so after the attack had passed him by in a medicated haze and he doubted he'd been coherent and cognisant of what was happening half the time. Calleigh had told him that they'd drawn a blank on who his attackers were and, as far as the Chief was concerned, the case was to be put on the back burner and left as of yet unsolved.

Unwilling to let it go, Horatio flipped open his phone and dialled a familiar number.

"Tripp," came the terse reply.

"Frank, it's Horatio. Have you got a moment?"

Frank's voice became slightly less aggressive. "What's up?"

Horatio smiled inwardly. Behind the gruff facade, Frank Tripp was a good man and more importantly, one who could be trusted.

"I was wondering what your plans were for tonight?"

There was a slight pause before Frank replied. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"I heard a rumour that you like redheads." Horatio paused for a moment. "Wanna meet up for a beer?"

Frank let the rejoinder slide. "What time were you thinking?"

"Around 8pm?"

"Ok, sounds good." Frank paused for a moment. "Why do I get the feeling that there's some sort of catch?"

"Can't a guy ask a buddy out for a drink without there being a catch?"

Horatio smiled at Frank's response - the man had hung up on him immediately.


"Welcome back, John."

John Hagen glowered at the man and took a seat, folding his arms across his chest in the act of a petulant child.

"It's not like I had much choice but to come, is it?"

The man let the comment slide and continued. "Everything is a choice, John. Every decision we make has a consequence."

He had to agree with the statement. Every decision he'd ever made had led him to this point. It was easy to pinpoint the bad choices he'd made with the benefit of hindsight. He'd been so sure that the choices he'd made back then had been the right ones. It was only now when those birds finally came home to roost that he realised just how wrong he had been.

"You don't want to be here, that much is clear," the man observed as he opened a file.

"No offence, but I'd rather be anywhere else than here," John replied, sighing heavily and running a hand over his stubbled cheeks.

"But you made a conscious choice to knock on my door that first time. This is our third meeting...something is compelling you to keep coming here."

"I had no choice. I had nowhere else to turn…no one else I could talk to."

"Is it your conscience that troubles you, John?"

He felt the weight of the question hit him square in the chest. "For so long… I thought I was doing the right thing. I guess it just got a little complicated and messy along the way."

"What are you hoping to get out of this - are you hoping that admitting to what you've done will make things right again?"

He frowned at that. "Probably not. I've done too many things...I told myself that I did them for the right reasons."

The man clicked his pen and looked at him."Let's pick up from where we left things last time."

John Hagen took a deep breath and began.


"What's with all the 'cloak and dagger' stuff?" Frank asked, pulling himself into the booth, nodding his thanks for the beer that Horatio slid toward him.

Horatio frowned. "I have a feeling Rick Stetler's on my tail. I thought it was probably safer to meet somewhere where there weren't any prying eyes."

Frank nodded and took a sip of his beer. "You gonna tell me what's going on?" he asked, "If IAB are keeping tabs on you, is it something I really want to get involved in?"

Horatio took a gulp of his own beer and ignored the question. "You led the investigation into…uh - "

"The guys who jumped you?" Frank interrupted.

Horatio nodded his head. "Indeed."

"What is it that you want to know?"

Horatio couldn't help but smile. This was Frank to a tee - no messing and straight down to business.

"I can't access any of the reports on the system without leaving some sort of trail," Horatio began, turning his half-empty glass of beer in a circle. "I don't really remember much of it as it is," he finished quietly.

Frank, for his part, had the good grace to get straight to the point.

"Your team found plenty of DNA on you. Whoever attacked you left plenty of evidence behind."

"And nothing matched on CODIS?"

Frank shook his head. "I had your lab rats check it twice. Even did a statewide and nation-wide search… nothing."

Horatio let the 'lab rats' comment slide. It didn't make any sense that the people who attacked him were not in any database. The men who jumped him knew what they were doing. They were career criminals - they had to be.

"It doesn't make any sense, Francis."

Frank nodded his agreement. "There's something hinky going on here. Something doesn't add up."

Horatio said nothing for a number of moments and it was enough to put Frank on edge.

"Why do I get the feeling you're planning something."

Horatio smiled. "I'm considering my next move, is all."

Frank frowned. "Don't you think you'd be better off leaving this alone?"

Horatio's countenance darkened. "Someone tried to use my family to get to me. I can't let that slide and besides, there's something bigger going on here."

"I don't like it, Horatio."

Checking that Rick Stetler was nowhere to be seen, Horatio took a pen from his jacket and began drawing a symbol on a napkin before passing it to Frank.

"Have you ever seen this tattoo before?"

Frank studied it carefully. "Nope. Is it a gang stamp?"

"I'm not sure. I was hoping you could tell me what it means."

"I don't recognise it. Why do you ask?"

Horatio paused, unsure of how to frame his response. "It was found on DB brought into the morgue earlier today."

"Does it mean anything to you?" Frank asked, passing it back to his colleague. "Do you recognise it from one of your attackers?"

Horatio shook his head ruefully. "I still can't place any of them," he said, letting out a frustrated breath.

"Why are you showing me this then?"

Horatio glanced around the bar again. "This stays between the two of us, ok?"

Frank nodded and gestured for Horatio to continue.

"The body in the morgue… The COD is virtually identical to that of Raymond."

Frank took a moment to consider the evidence. "You think the corpse in the morgue is connected to what happened to you somehow?"

"Call it a hunch," Horatio shrugged.

"You want me to do some digging about the tattoo, see what I can find?"

"It would be appreciated, Frank. I can't be seen to be getting myself involved in this one, for obvious reasons."

"Talking of obvious," Frank muttered as he caught sight of Rick Stetler attempting to slip into the bar unnoticed.

Horatio rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised it took him this long."

Frank's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Maybe we should throw him a bone…throw him off the scent a little bit?"

Horatio grinned. "What did you have in mind?"


Calleigh's car sitting in his driveway had taken Horatio by surprise as he arrived home after meeting with Frank.

"Everything ok?" he asked, holding open her car door for her.

She smiled at his gentlemanly manners.

"You left pretty quickly at the end of the shift. I wanted to come and check that you were ok."

He tried to give her a reassuring smile. "I met Frank for a beer after work."

"That's not what I was worried about," she replied with a frown. "How did it go with Stetler?"

Horatio let out a tired sigh. "More of the same old stuff. He's just looking to stir things up and see what lands."

Horatio opened his front door and motioned for Calleigh to enter his house with him.

"He's dangerous, Horatio."

He picked up the hint of concern in her voice. "I've got him off my back...for now."

A sly smile crossed Horatio's face as he opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass, handing it to Calleigh.

"Are you up to something?"

He tried to look affronted at the remark. "Why would you think that?" The smile crept across his face once more. "He turned up at the bar Frank and I were at. We decided to let him bark up the wrong tree for a while…"

Frank huffed humourlessly as his gaze slid to Rick Stetler in the opposite corner of the bar.

"He stands out like a hooker at a tea party."

Horatio cocked an eyebrow at his colleague's words.

"Seriously," Frank continued, "It's a wonder he catches anyone doing anything. He doesn't know the meaning of the word 'inconspicuous'."

Horatio smiled. "I take it you're not a fan?"

Frank gave Horatio an incredulous look. "Are you?"

Horatio shook his head and changed the subject as he briefly glanced in Rick Stetler's direction. "What did you have in mind?"

"How about we give that asshole something to look at…"

Calleigh had to smile at the idea of Rick Stetler tirelessly trying to find evidence of bribery and collusion between Horatio and Frank.

"I bet Frank $150 that the Jaguars would beat the Dolphins tonight. As luck would have it, I was right." Horatio smiled, a smug grin on his face.

"Stetler saw the money changing hands between you?" Calleigh asked as she took another sip of her wine.

He nodded his head. "He did."

"So now he thinks the two of you are involved in something?"

"Who knows how Rick Stetler's mind works?"

Calleigh gave him a long look. "Why do I get the feeling you're up to something?"

Horatio tried his best to look innocent. Calleigh wasn't convinced.

"Is this something to do with Ray?"

The sound of his brother's name made Horatio flinch perceptibly. Taking a gulp of his own wine, he tried to change the subject. "I'm beat. How about we move this to the bedroom," he suggested, grabbing the half-empty bottle of wine. "Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

Following her into the bedroom, he placed the wine down and kissed her deeply.

"I thought you were tired?" She asked coyly.

"Not that tired," he responded as he slipped his hands under her top.