His son was sitting in the back of an ambulance with a blanket wrapped around his sopping wet frame. Kyle looked exhausted and banged up but to Horatio's immense relief, he was alive. Kyle looked up, initially looked relieved when he saw Horatio approach, but his face soon fell into a frown. He studied Horatio's sombre walk, the grimace on his face and the slow way he folded up his sunglasses and put them in his breast pocket. Horatio glanced at the asphalt first before looking up into his son's questioning eyes.
"What is it dad?" Kyle asked nervously.
Horatio paused to breathe and chose his next words carefully. "Kyle, it's about your mother."
Kyle's heart thudded anxiously in his chest. He already knew the answer, dreaded the answer, but he asked the question anyway. "Is she okay?"
Horatio shook his head sadly.
Calleigh and Ryan watched the father-son reunion from a safe distance. They heard Kyle's shout of disbelief, and watched Horatio encircle his son in a tight embrace as Kyle sobbed against his shoulder. Calleigh's face was drawn in empathy.
"He'll be okay, eventually. He's still got Horatio," Ryan offered.
Calleigh reluctantly nodded, finally pulling herself away from the scene before her. "Any trace of Ron?"
Ryan scowled miserably. "Coast Guard is on the lookout, but that boat got the drop on us. Chances are they'll ditch it soon and take off in something else."
Calleigh folded her arms across her chest. She turned to survey the crime scene and in particular, the perpetrator she herself had brought down. "Maybe we'll get some insights from him."
Ryan cocked his head and squinted at the dead man and the blood pooled around his head. "Maybe. I'll get Tara on it right away. Nice shot, by the way."
Calleigh half-heartedly smiled. "Wish I had got Ron first."
Horatio spent the next day on the observation deck above the autopsy lab where Tara worked on the thug first, and Julia second. He seemed awash in his own world, full of anger, despondency and remorse. He felt responsible for Julia's death, and perhaps always would. He felt helpless against the depression his son had slipped into since the kidnapping and the shooting and knew his words of comfort were useless in bringing about any reprieve. He had no doubt that Kyle would get through this; in his 16 years of life, the boy had already experienced a lifetime of neglect, fear and hopelessness, and none of that had held him down yet. Again, he felt regret for not having realized that Kyle existed in the first place. He fought against imagining how different life could have been for his son if he had found him sooner, knowing that those types of thoughts were a waste of time.
The dead suspect, Carl Juarez, had been identified. His past revealed a long history of crime and almost half his life had been spent in jail. He had been recently released on parole. It also looked like he had a prolific gambling addiction.
"Ron must have promised to pay off his gambling debts."
Horatio was momentarily startled by the soft voice at his side. He hadn't realized that Eric Delko was standing beside him until he spoke. Horatio glanced sideways at him. "Yes, I think you're correct," Horatio finally answered.
Horatio turned away from the glass and leaned against the wall. He rubbed his tired face.
Eric stood uncertainly in front of him. "H, you may not want to hear this, but I just got the toxicology tests back from Julia."
Horatio's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"Julia had lethal doses of Tryptizol in her blood." Eric handed the report to Horatio, who studied it in blatant confusion. "She was overdosing when we got to her."
"Why are you telling me this?" Horatio asked.
"I'm telling you this because you need to know that Ron killed Julia long before you ever had a chance to rescue her. There was nothing you could have done."
Horatio visibly flinched. The news did not relieve him. Instead, it spurred his anger against Julia's killer even more. Nonetheless, he handed the report back to Eric calmly. "Thank you, Mr. Delko."
The funeral for Julia Winston took place outside in the mid-day; where a slight wind helped keep the otherwise blistering heat from becoming too overwhelming. Kyle struggled to compose himself but could no longer hold back the tears that streamed consistently down his cheeks. His father stood solemnly beside him, with hands clasped in front of him while he watched the black casket be lowered slowly into the ground.
Many people attended; several were Julia's contacts from her days in real estate where she had been quite popular. Horatio also noted the presence of Julia's mother, who watched the ceremony in a haze of shock. Her eyes were red-rimmed from days of crying. She looked up at one point and saw Horatio, but then spied Kyle beside him. Something seemed to click inside of her; whether it was fear, embarrassment or perhaps both, Horatio couldn't tell. She hurriedly left the funeral after that, without saying a word to either Horatio or Kyle. Luckily, Kyle did not seem to notice her and even if he had, he didn't seem to recognize or remember her. Horatio surmised that was probably for the best.
When the funeral ended and the crowd began to disperse, Horatio's cell phone rang. It was Frank.
"Horatio, don't mean to bother you but I thought you should know that we've located the boat Ron escaped in."
"And?" Horatio prompted.
"Not a sign of him. Wiped clean. This boat was a rental. Rented out to some alias I assume. It was abandoned up the coast." There was a beat before Frank spoke next. "You think he switched boats and made off to Cuba?"
Horatio had been wracking his brain trying to figure out Ron's next move. "I don't know, he admitted. It's possible. But something tells me Ron isn't quite finished with Miami yet."
They needed to get Kyle's personal effects from Julia's house. Horatio offered to do it alone, but Kyle insisted he was fine to go back to his house and pack up his own things. Yellow crime tap still barred the entry; Horatio held it up so Kyle could duck underneath it to get in. Once inside, he froze. Horatio came up beside him and studied his face, which was pinched in agony. Horatio laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Do you want to wait outside?"
Kyle gulped and shook his head tentatively at first, then with more vigour. "No, I'm fine," he said, although it sounded like it was more to reassure himself than his father. He walked away from the living room and loped up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Horatio remained where he was, with hands firmly planted on his hips.
Kyle was silent on the drive over to Horatio's house; too many thoughts and emotions flitted through his brain, one after the other and never staying for very long. He imagined it was like having hummingbirds in his head. His attention was pulled to the present, however, when the Hummer slowed as it turned into the driveway leading up to Horatio's bungalow.
Kyle had only been to his father's house a few times; Horatio rarely seemed to spend much time there. It was much smaller than Julia's.
Horatio held the door open for Kyle and unconsciously fiddled with the keys, almost apprehensively. Kyle entered and made a quick survey of his new surroundings. It was an open concept house, sparsely decorated and furnished, but with a modern, almost European look to it. A white sectional couch sat on the darkly stained hardwood floor, facing a large wall-mounted flat screen television. There was a black lacquer fireplace on one end of the couch. Kyle could see through the fireplace and into the dining room beyond. The kitchen was brighter than Kyle would have imagined; with red cabinets that looked like they were straight out of an Ikea catalogue. There was a door off to the side of the entry and Kyle peered in, noting the home office and piles upon piles of boxes containing case files as well as shelves containing cluttered, unsorted books.
"We'll convert that into a bedroom for you," Horatio noted.
Kyle stared at him. "Where will you work?"
Horatio shrugged. "Apparently there's a police department not far from here that has an office with my name on it."
Kyle blinked, then grinned. "Funny," he remarked.
Horatio cracked a small smile. "For now, you can sleep in my bedroom."
Kyle looked confused. "But where will you sleep?"
Horatio motioned to the couch. "I've fallen asleep right there on many occasions. It's nothing new."
Kyle reluctantly nodded, then headed off to Horatio's bedroom with his arms laden with luggage possessing almost everything he owned. Horatio watched him go, then settled onto the couch. He flicked on the television, kept it on a national news channel and watched inattentively.
After waiting for nearly half an hour, Horatio went in to check on Kyle. He stood in the doorway and smiled. Kyle was face down on the bed, arms and legs splayed out on either side of him. It looked like he had collapsed there; as though the weight of the last few traumatizing days finally got the better of him. Horatio nodded satisfactorily and closed the door quietly after he left.
"Sleep well, my son," he whispered.
