AN: ((wince)) I'm sorry this took so long. School has begun once again (last semester of undergrad—woo!) which means I'm super-duper busy. Just ask the zen, I've been stressing over this chapter for a solid month. I hope you enjoy and that I haven't lost you.
Chapter Six
It hadn't been a conscious decision to keep the note a secret. Eric had driven home that night with every intention of telling Calleigh the second he walked through the door. He didn't want to…not really. He didn't want to have to tell her that their son's life had just been threatened, didn't want to have to discuss taking extra measures of security just to allow Lucas to carry on like a normal kid, didn't even want to go into work tomorrow and have to deal with the forensic side of things. He had always—for the most part—been pretty good about keeping his work and home life separate. Amid the fear and anger bubbling within his chest, there was the tiniest vein of irritation that now that streak would have to be broken.
These thoughts were whirling around in his head as he made his way home. It wasn't until he had locked the front door behind him and an unexpected silence washed over him that Eric recognized that his meeting with Alexx must have taken longer than he'd realized. His family had already gone to sleep.
He stopped at Lucas' room on the way to his own. His son was wrapped tightly in his orange and green sheets, curled in a ball, mouth hanging slightly open. Eric pushed open the door and made his way silently inside; he perched on the edge of the bed and brushed the boy's curls to the side. Gently, he pressed a kiss to his temple. "I'm never going to let anything happen to you," he promised in a whisper.
Lucas snuggled further into his blankets. "Okay, Daddy," he answered in a sleep-clogged mutter. Eric smiled despite the evening and made his way down the hall to where Calleigh had fallen asleep waiting for him.
She stirred as he climbed into bed and wrapped an arm around her. "Everything okay?" she asked softly, not opening her eyes. She cuddled into him while he got comfortable.
"Yeah," he whispered before he could stop himself. He kissed her cheek and held her tightly. "Everything's okay. Go back to sleep."
She was already there before his sentence was complete, her breath blowing across his chest in a steady rhythm through her open mouth. Eric lay awake, listening to the silence, tensing with every noise the house made, until the morning sun finally filtered in through the curtains.
0x0x0
Horatio regarded his brother-in-law with a curious gaze. After a few moments, Eric himself growing uncomfortable. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "H, I don't want to put you in the middle of this…" he looked down for a moment. "But you know I wouldn't ask if I didn't need your help."
Horatio rested his hands on his hips and tilted his head slightly. "Eric, you know that Lucas is my family too—I'm going to do everything I can to make sure nothing happens to him." He stopped and shifted his own weight. "But I'm not sure that keeping this from Calleigh is a wise course of action."
"I just," Eric fought the urge to squirm. "She's got enough to worry about right now without adding this to the mix. I'm going to tell her," he promised. "Eventually. I just haven't figured out how."
His boss digested this with a slow nod of understanding. "You know that I trust you, Eric. But so does Calleigh—don't wait too long before letting her know."
Eric breathed a sigh of relief. "I know. I don't like keeping anything from her but…" he shook his head. "I just need a little more information. Do we have anything?"
"Well it's not our case to begin with. The night shift was on when the call came in. They processed the scene, the car, Rosha's body…it's their case. I'm not sure how happy they would be to share information."
"H, please," Eric hated the desperation that had slithered into his voice. "You've gotta keep me in the loop."
Horatio nodded again. "I'll do what I can, Eric. For right now I think we need to focus on putting Lucas under pretty tight security. Have you spoken with his school yet?"
"No," he shook his head. "They're closed today—some in-service thing. He's with my mom."
"First thing tomorrow I'll have Jeffries from nights go over and talk to the principal about the situation. Maybe patrol can spare an extra body for a few weeks while we get everything figured out. In the meantime, you might want to draw up a list of enemies. We've got no suspects and all we know is that whoever wrote that letter isn't afraid to kill and is not very fond of you."
Eric sighed. "A list of enemies. Do I include everyone I put in jail in the last fifteen years?"
Horatio noted the sarcasm and placed a hand on the shoulder of his friend. "We'll find out who did this, Eric. You have my word."
0x0x0
Two weeks flew by more quickly than expected and by February, there was no denying that Calleigh was pregnant. And if a tiny detail like that had become so obvious, Eric's strange behavior certainly wasn't missed.
She had noticed it almost immediately—the edginess, the jumpiness, the seizing of his cell phone every time it gave even the slightest jingle. She hadn't said anything at first, chalking it up to an unusual bout of paranoia. It was the job, she reasoned, and the stress of buying a new house. Unusual, but not something to worry about.
It wasn't until one morning while she waited for him to walk Lucas to the bus stop that Calleigh really began to wonder about her husband. She watched them walk down to the corner as the familiar yellow bus approached. She watched as Lucas boarded the bus with a wave over his shoulder…and then watched with confusion as Eric followed their son onto the vehicle and return with him to the sidewalk. "I'll just drive him today," Eric yelled over the drone of the engine. "Thanks, though!"
Calleigh, who had been just about to get behind the wheel of her own car, paused and shot the duo an inquisitive look as they approached. "What was that about?"
Eric looked momentarily panicked before Lucas gave him a look of confusion as well. "Yeah, Dad…why did you take me off the bus?"
"There was a kid in the first row," he shrugged, not quite achieving carelessness. "It looked like he had pink eye—Luke's having enough trouble with his eyes without getting that again."
"I wasn't going to sit with him anyway," Lucas grumbled. "I don't even know that kid. And I don't need glasses."
Calleigh ignored her son's whining; her own eyes squinted at Eric. "How could you tell from the sidewalk?"
Eric shrugged again. "Call it paternal instinct. Come on," he tapped his watch. "We've gotta go—we're all going to be late." He opened the back door for Lucas and handed him his backpack. "And you might need glasses, bud. Might as well get used to it."
Calleigh started the car and pulled out of the driveway. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, repeating the question she'd been asking herself a lot lately.
"What?" Eric jumped noticeably at the question. "Yeah…I'm fine."
"Then why couldn't I ride the bus?" Lucas asked from the back seat.
"I told you," his father answered without turning around. "Pink eye."
"If I had pink eye I wouldn't have to even go to stupid school," came the grumbled reply.
"Or swimming," Calleigh reminded. "Or soccer."
The rest of the drive to school was made without argument. Calleigh didn't broach the topic of her husband's sanity again and took the first callout with Natalia when they arrived at CSI. Eric, feeling like a thoroughly harassed suspect, dropped onto the couch in the break room while the coffee brewed and covered his face with his hands.
"You look like shit," Ryan said by way of greeting, tossing his lunch into the refrigerator.
"Thanks, Wolfe."
"What's up?"
"Nothing," he shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Is this the big secret you're keeping from Calleigh that's making you look like this?"
Eric's head shot up. "What secret? I'm not keeping anything from Calleigh—what are you talking about?"
Ryan's eyebrows spiked toward his hairline. "Calm down, Delko. I'm not accusing you of anything—I just overheard Calleigh and Natalia yesterday, that's all."
"What were they saying?"
"Just that Cal feels like there's something going on that you're not telling her…which there obviously is."
"No there's—"
Ryan held up a hand. "You might be one of the worst liar's I've ever met—just saying." He offered a matter-of-fact look. "Whatever you're going through, get through it fast. And don't lie to your wife…she's a lot smarter than you."
Eric shot him a look.
"I'm just saying," Ryan added quickly, before heading toward the door. "By the way," he reached into his jacket pocket and produced a long white envelope. "This was waiting for you at reception."
Eric turned it over in his hands. "No return address," he murmured to himself. "Did they say who sent it?"
"Nope," Ryan shrugged. "But it was addressed to you, care of here. I said I'd drop it off. I'll see you over in trace."
"Yeah, thanks," Eric said, sliding a finger under the seal and tearing the envelope. He pulled out a stack of paper that had been stapled and folded in thirds to fit. Curiosity rising, he unfolded and studied them.
He was looking at a court reporter's transcribed witness testimony. The questions had been blotted out with heavy black marker—only the witness' statement remained. The statement, he quickly realized, was his. The memory of that day in sentencing court slammed viciously into him.
"Mr. Delko," the attorney—a middle-aged woman with wide hips and dark blonde hair, approached the stand. "In your professional opinion, did the victims appear to have been selected at random?"
Eric shifted in his seat. "No," he affirmed after a hard swallow. "We found evidence that each of the victims had been chosen carefully and had been stalked for weeks before being attacked. I don't believe that the defendant was ever unaware of what he was doing."
The attorney tilted her head thoughtfully. "And Mr. Delko, if it were up to you, would you recommend Mr. Wacops as a candidate for the state hospital?"
"Absolutely not."
She smiled. "Thank you for your testimony."
Eric flipped mindlessly through the transcription until he came to the last page. In the same crude black marker was one word.
Soon.
AN: ((wince again)) It should be longer, I know. After all that, it should definitely be longer. But I got inspired and this seems like a good stopping point for now. Plus, you know how I love to keep you guys on your toes. Leave me some love, please, it's the only way to guarantee an update before Christmas. (No, I'm probably not serious…but my car got wrecked last night and I need a bit of cheering.) Love you!! Oh...and the scene with the bus (not the pink eye) is from some movie which I cannot not remember now to save my life. Oh well. Thanks, nameless movie, for that spot of inspiration.
