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-1Perhaps it was sympathy in Horatio's voice that had made Calleigh's tears well up. Or maybe it was the gentleness with which he spoke. She honestly didn't know and she certainly didn't care. All she knew was she wanted to cry, and she had been for the past five minutes. Horatio had offered her a shoulder to cry on, and she'd taken full advantage of it. It was the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them that brought the tender moment to a screeching halt.

Horatio's arms quickly fell from around her shoulders as Calleigh sensed his walls quickly go back up. As she stepped away she saw just who it was that had interrupted. "Rick," Horatio said flatly as he turned to face the IAB agent standing in the doorway.

It was obvious from the look on Stetler's face that he was not happy with what he had just witnessed. "Horatio…You seem to have forgotten about the fraternization policy we have in place." His eyes shifted back and forth between the two CSIs as he spoke.

Horatio shifted his jaw and his posture; his hands quickly found their way to his hip and the butt of his gun. "And you seem to have forgotten how to knock, Rick."

Stetler glared at him. "I need to speak with you…alone."

Horatio lowered his head and stared back. "Anything you have to say to me, Rick, you can say in front of Calleigh."

An uncomfortable silence filled the air in the room for a moment. Calleigh wanted nothing more than to leave; she knew her emotions were running far too high for her to be able to hide her disdain for Stetler. If she didn't leave now, there was a distinct possibility she'd end up saying something that would do neither her nor Horatio any good.

Stetler crossed his arms and scowled. "Fine. I suppose this concerns her somewhat, anyway. You're being sued, Horatio, for assaulting a civilian."

"I beg your pardon?" Horatio tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

"I said you're being sued." The corner of Stetler's mouth curled up just slightly as he spoke. "On Monday night, when CSI Duquesne had a collision with-"

"Don't you mean 'when she was almost murdered by a drunk driver', Rick?" Horatio stared him down, unblinking.

"When CSI Duquesne had a collision with another vehicle," Stetler continued slowly, emphasizing his words, "the driver of that vehicle claims you dragged him from his truck and assaulted him."

What? Calleigh couldn't believe what she was hearing, but she didn't dare speak. Not yet, at least. Horatio can handle Stetler on his own.

"According to whom?" Horatio asked, barely keeping his composure.

"According to the driver and several eye witnesses."

"I did not assault him. He was drunk and started to become aggressive. And I clearly identified myself as an officer."

"He claims you didn't."

"That's because he was drunk off his ass. He could barely stand up straight and he sure as hell couldn't think straight."

"Don't defend yourself to me, Horatio. Save it for the court. Here's the summons." Stetler said, handing him a white envelope. "You're due in court at Eight AM. Tomorrow. You two have a nice afternoon." Horatio thought he saw a grin on Stetler's face as he turned and headed out of the room.

Calleigh shook her head. "What the hell was that?"

Exhaling slowly, Horatio turned towards her. "I'm not sure, but I'm not going to lose sleep over it. Besides, he doesn't have a case."

"He doesn't?"

Horatio shook his head. "No. I distinctly remember identifying myself to him as an officer. And he's not the only one with an eye witness. Did you happen to get the names of any of the EMTs who helped you Monday night?"

"I…don't think so, but it would be simple to get them from the hospital records. Want me to get to work on it?"

"No. We need to keep our focus on Abigail Kiefer right now. I can have someone else do it." He smiled at her. "But thank-you for offering."

Calleigh shrugged. "It's the least I can do."

Lowering his voice, he asked, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, a twinkle returning to her eyes. "Oh!" she said suddenly. "What about Atlanta?"

Horatio furrowed his brow. He'd forgotten about the trip he and Evan were supposed to make that evening to attend Ed O'Neil's funeral. His purpose in going was, more than anything else, to visit with Linda and the kids. He sighed. "I guess I won't be going. I should call Mac and Linda and let them know."

"I'm sorry, Horatio. I can't help but feel like this is somehow my fault." She looked away for a moment and lowered her voice. "Maybe if I had been paying more attent--"

"Calleigh," he said softly, "listen to me. This is not your fault." He lowered his head, trying to meet her eyes. "I'm just glad you're alright."

"Thanks to you." Her mind drifted for a moment back to that night and she reached out for Horatio's hands. Turning them over carefully, she noticed the scars that covered his fingers and both of his palms.

Horatio felt his heart skip. The feel of her hands on his was like electricity to him. Then he remembered the last woman whose hands he'd felt. Marisol…He quickly pushed the thought from his mind. Dwelling on the past would do him no good. Marisol may be your past, but Calleigh…could…be your-- The sound of Calleigh's voice interrupted his thought.

"By the way, please tell me you went to see Dr. Marshall this morning."

Horatio nodded. "I did. Do I need to show you my stitches as proof?"

She suppressed a grin. I wouldn't mind… "No, no. I believe you." She quickly glanced up at the clock. "We'd better get back to the Evidence room. They're going to send out a search party if we don't return soon."

------------------------------

"You're being sued?" Ryan gave H an incredulous look. "For what?"

All eyes in the evidence room were on Horatio, who took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "The drunk driver who hit Calleigh is claiming I assaulted him and that I didn't identify myself as an officer."

"That's bullsh--"

"Eric…" Horatio's voice was quiet, but firm.

Delko clenched his jaw and exhaled slowly. "Sorry, H. But you…of all people…"

"I appreciate your support, but I really don't want to focus on this right now. My primary concern is still to find Abigail Kiefer, okay? So let's get back to the task at hand."

The CSIs knew better than to press the issue; when Horatio gave an order, that was that. The Agents in the room hadn't known H for long, but were quickly learning how things operated. Their respect for the CSIs had grown quickly in the short amount of time they had all been working together. The once delicate alliance between the Brass and Feds appeared to be strengthening.

Eric and Locke exchanged glances for a brief moment, and he thought he saw something strange in her eyes. He walked over to where she was standing. "You okay?" he asked softly.

Locke nodded but did not look at him. "I just really want to find this girl." Eric sensed that there was more to it, but did not push the subject. He hadn't told her that he knew her father was Carl Anderson; he didn't see the point in doing it. H had spoken to him about it the day before and asked him to keep it to himself, and he had done just that. He wanted to say something to her, but nothing seemed appropriate, so he stayed by her side and worked with her silently.

After a few minutes of silence between them, Locke excused herself. Eric thought he saw a tear in the corner of her eye as she walked out of the room.

-----------------

Somewhere a phone rang.

Yes?

Everything's in place.

Are you certain?

Yes. It's all been taken care of. I did exactly what you asked.

Good. Then there should be no problem.

Are…Are you sure this is the best idea?

What did you say?

Nothing.

That's what I thought.

Is there anything else?

No. For now we just sit back and let things play out.

-------

Horatio waited in the hallway on the bottom floor of the courthouse watching the clock slowly tick its way towards Eight o'clock. He wasn't normally an impatient man, but when something ridiculous like this was keeping him from doing his job, he became very impatient. The summons in his hand told him to report to room 147 at 8 AM, and he had been standing outside the room for nearly fifteen minutes. One final glance at the clock told him it was time. He was about to enter the room when the door was flung open from the inside. Horatio quickly stepped out of the way as a tall graying man brushed quickly by without even noticing him. Horatio blinked a few times before his brain registered who it was he had just seen. Web?

A million questions flooded his mind; he knew it could be no coincidence that Web had just left the room he was about to enter. What possible connection could there be between Web and this case? He shook his head and tried to push the questions from his mind. More than anything, he wanted this to be over quickly so he could get back to what he needed to be doing.

However when he opened the door to room 147, he knew this would be anything but quick. The words that flew through Horatio's mind when he saw the man on the other side of the room were ones he would never dare utter aloud. Sitting behind the desk with an all-too-familiar smug grin on his face was Judge Joseph Ratner.

--------------

Just down the street from the MDPD Crime Lab sat Joey's, a favorite diner and hang out for off-duty officers and CSIs. Since it was early on a Saturday morning, Calleigh knew the place wouldn't be too crowded. Normally she had the weekends off, but since she and the rest of the team had joined the taskforce with the FBI she knew she'd have no more weekends off until they found the missing girl. She'd spent so much time in the lab in the past week, especially after she temporarily took over Horatio's duties, she was desperate for a change of scenery. That was exactly why she'd come to Joey's this morning.

As she walked in the front door a cheerful voice greeted her from behind the counter. "Mornin', sweetheart!"

"Good morning, Mae," Calleigh cheerfully replied to the head waitress, whom she'd come to know over the past several years.

"Your usual?" Mae asked.

"Of course." Calleigh headed straight towards the back corner of the diner to her booth. Just a few minutes later the tiny bell on the door dinged and she glanced up to see a familiar red-head enter the diner. She smiled and waved him over. "Hi," she said as he walked up.

"Hi, yourself," he replied, his voice still a bit rough from the late hours he'd been working the past week. "Mind if I join you?"

"Please do." She motioned towards the seat across the booth from her.

He sat and picked up the menu, glancing quickly over it as Mae walked up.

"Friend of yours, sweetheart?" Calleigh noticed the glint in Mae's eyes as she spoke.

"Mae…" Calleigh said slowly. "This is Agent Evan Matthews with the FBI."

"FBI?" the waitress asked, rather surprised that Calleigh was consorting with a Fed.

"Yes, but don't hold it against him," she said, grinning across the table at Evan. "Besides, there will probably be a few more joining us in a few minutes."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart. And what can I get for you, sir?" Mae asked, pulling a pencil from behind her ear. Evan placed his order--Fried eggs, bacon, toast and coffee.

"So," Calleigh said, taking a deep breath, "how do Feds manage to work such long hours all the time?"

Evan chuckled quietly. "You get used to it…you have to. Don't worry. It'll get easier."

"God, I hope so. I'm seriously needing my beauty sleep."

Evan's blue eyes widened slightly. "If that's the case, you're hiding it well."

Their conversation was interrupted as the doorbell dinged again and Eric, Ryan, Natalia and Locke walked in. ""Looks like the gang's all here," Mae cried from behind the counter. She was greeted warmly by the CSIs, who always treated her well, and tipped her even better.

After breakfast arrived and everyone finished eating, the plates went away and the laptops appeared. Evan and Locke had their own, and the FBI had loaned one to each of the CSIs for the duration of the case. The booth quickly became too crowded for six laptops, so Eric pulled another table up next to the booth. Locke had brought the case files, which she spread across the table. She had initially been skeptical that they'd be able to focus in a diner, but she quickly realized that the different setting actually helped her concentrate.

Around 9:30, the door opened once more and everyone looked up to see a man and woman walk in. The well-built man glanced around the nearly empty diner until his eyes fell on the small crowd in the corner. He nodded slightly at them and slowly made his way around the tables and booths to the back corner of the diner, followed closely by the auburn-haired woman. Calleigh looked curiously at them as they approached in silence.

Evan stood and extended his hand to the man. "Hi, Danny. Glad you could find the place."

The man sniffed the air playfully. "Are you kidding? I could smell bacon and eggs and fresh coffee from miles away. I'm starving."

"I think you're always hungry." Evan smiled and looked at the five confused faces sitting in the booth with him. "Everyone, this is Agent Danny Love, and this…" he said, motioning to the woman standing slightly behind him, "is Agent Melody Simms."

A look of understanding crossed Locke's face. "Oh yes, Web said you'd be joining us soon. I just didn't realize how soon." She rose and extended her hand to the two agents. "It's nice to meet you both."

"Wait," Ryan piped up. "You don't know each other?"

"Just because we work in the same division of the Bureau, it doesn't necessarily mean every agent knows each other. You don't know every cop in Miami, do you?" Evan said with a boyish grin.

"Point taken," Ryan said sheepishly and shut up.

"Evan…" Danny said quietly, "can…I talk to you for a sec?"

Evan nodded and excused himself, following Danny outside. His grin quickly faded as soon as they exited the diner. "What'd you find out?"

Danny pulled a file folder from his bag and handed it Evan, who quickly opened it and scanned its contents.

Special Agent Rebecca Locke. Three years out of Quantico…Spent six months with Homeland Security…Her work with cryptograms helped disrupt a New York City Al-Qaeda cell…Transferred to the NYC FBI…then Miami…

"That's it?" Evan asked, obviously disappointed with the lack of information in the file. "What about before Quantico? There's nothing here."

"That's because there isn't anything before Quantico. It's like she didn't exist before then. Every time I searched, it came up saying 'RESTRICTED'."

Evan sighed. "Thanks for trying, Danny."

"What're you gonna do now?"

"I've still got a few connections I can try. Go on inside…I'm going to make a quick call."

Evan waited until Danny had walked back inside before pulling out his cell phone. "Ken? How's your security clearance? Good. I need a favor…"

----------------

At 2:30 AM the lights were off on the fourth floor of the FBI building; the one exception was the lamp on Virgil Webster's desk. His office door stood wide open as it usually did this late in the evening. There was no reason to keep the door closed; everyone on the floor was gone for the night…or so he thought.

"I know who she is."

Without looking up, Web knew to whom the voice belonged. "Who are you talking about, Evan?"

Evan saw the smirk on Web's face and immediately knew he was being toyed with. "There's a reason her history doesn't reach back before Quantico. She wasn't Rebecca Locke. She was Becky Anderson. Pretty notorious case in New York."

"Ineptly handled," Web said dismissively.

"They could have used you on it," Evan said. "Most 10-year old girls who get snatched, they don't escape. They certainly don't escape on their own. She was tough."

"She still is." Web slowly stood and reached for his coat on the back of his chair. He switched off the lamp on his desk, leaving the two men in nearly total darkness. The moonlight shining through the blinds in Web's office window was the only remaining light in the room.

"Why'd she change her name?" Evan asked as Web headed slowly towards him.

Web reached for the doorknob and slowly pulled the door closed behind him as he stepped out into the hallway. "Any number of reasons. The apostle Paul--He changed his name after he saw the light."

"Well she saw the dark." Evan crossed his arms and glared at Web through the darkness. He had never completely trusted Web, and this latest development had caused Evan to trust him even less. "I'll tell you what I think. I think her old name made people ask questions. Questions that she couldn't answer, like what had he done to her. But the question that it makes me ask? How does somebody with that background pass her academy psych screening? Imagine my complete lack of surprise when I saw that it was approved. Stamped Virgil Webster. Man. You must have been watching her a long time."

"What do you want, Evan?"

"I want to know why you put Rebecca on this case when you know she's too closely involved to the suspect. He's her father, for God's sake."

"That makes her perfect for this case. Who better to understand the suspect than his own daughter?"

"So you're going to solve this case by touching Rebecca's scars and using her pain?"

"She has a gift, Evan, forged in pain. And she wants me to use her." Web turned and headed down the hallway toward the elevator, leaving Evan alone in the darkness.

"I bet that's what her father told himself when he took her," Evan said and went the opposite direction towards the stairs.

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