AN: This chapter is owed almost entirely to the help of my lovely new friend, takingbarcelona, without whom (and about a million rounds of PMing) I would not have been able to finish this chapter. She is my little ray of sunshine.
And also all of the love and support from my beautiful, wonderful, chocolate covered reviewers. You guys spin me right round, baby, right round. Like a record.
Okay, buckle on up, kiddies…it's angstin' time.
Chapter Ten
"Stars shining bright above you," Calleigh sang softly as she moved around Lucas' bedroom, scooping up dirty clothes and a pair of soccer cleats. "Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you.'" She bent with some difficulty and plugged in his nightlight as the boy crawled into bed and snuggled under his covers. "Birds singin' in the sycamore tree…dream a little dream of me."
"Mom?" Lucas asked, kicking off his socks under the covers.
Calleigh perched on the edge of his bed. "What?"
"Are you going to sing that song to my sisters when they get here?"
A small smile graced her lips. "I hadn't really thought about it," she admitted. "Would you prefer if I didn't?"
"I don't know," he looked down. "I guess I just hope they like a different song."
Calleigh's smile grew by half. "Don't you worry," she said, leaning down to press a loving kiss to his forehead. "I won't give them our song—that's for you and me, baby."
"I'm not trying to be mean," he clarified, holding up a hand. "I just…"
She nodded. "I gotcha."
"Can you keep singing?"
His mother laughed. "You are the only one who has ever asked me that," she told him with a sigh. "Say nighty-night and kiss me," at this line, she always bent and accepted a kiss from him. "Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me. While I'm alone and blue as can be…dream a little dream of me." She noticed his eyelids were already starting to droop as she got to her feet. "Hey," she remembered, reaching under the lamp shade to turn off the light. "You've got a birthday coming up, don't you?"
"Fourteen days," he said around a yawn.
"You feel like telling your mother want you want?" He grinned a sleepy and mischievous grin and shook his head. "No?"
"Huh-uh."
"All right, all right," she shrugged carelessly. "I'll just have to start using some interrogation tactics on you." Lucas was still laughing when she made her way to the door and gave him the last verse of his song. "But in your dreams, wherever they be…dream a little dream of me."
She eased herself along the hallway with one hand on the wall, the other on her large and off-balancing belly. Eric was brushing his teeth when she climbed under the covers and attempted to settle into a comfortable position.
The water rushed again and shut off, moments before the bathroom light followed suit and Eric emerged, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Luke's asleep?"
Calleigh nodded with a smile, despite her discomfort. "He wanted to know if I'd sing 'Dream a Little Dream' to the twins to get them to sleep."
Eric grinned and turned down his side of the bed. "What did you tell him?" he asked, meandering over to the dresser to remove his watch.
"I wouldn't dream of it," she assured him. "I'll have to find some other song to butcher once these two get here." With some effort, she managed to get in a position, balancing on her hip, which took some of the pressure off of her lower back.
"How are you doing?" he asked, noticing with dismay how she winced in pain every time she moved.
"I'm fine," Calleigh huffed, lifting her head in vain, searching the immediate arrow for a pillow to stuff between her knees.
Eric grabbed the nearest throw pillow from the pile on the floor and held it up. "This what you're looking for?" She nodded with another huff as he climbed onto the bed and gave her a hand. "Any better?"
Calleigh gave a momentary sigh of relief and nodded. "Yeah, that's good." Eric chuckled, listening to her sounds of contentment as she snuggled into the pillows and blankets while he reached over her and shut off the lights. Her release was short lived, however, as she felt the now familiar shift of life inside of her. "Not now," she moaned, knowing she would never sleep if they continued their kicking and moving about. "Please," she pleaded, "not tonight."
Eric, who had been busy setting the alarm, turned back to her with a questionable look. "I…didn't say anything," he reminded. "But I guess my plans for the evening were just shot down."
She shot him an unimpressed glare and pointed to her belly. "It's like they know when I'm about to get comfortable," she said, hating how whiny she sounded. "I don't know why we can't all just get on the same schedule...it would make things so much easier."
Her griping was met with a patient smile. "Your kids? Make things easy?" he scoffed. "That'd be the day." Eric ignored her rolling eyes and propped himself up on an elbow, one large hand sliding her shirt up to reveal her melon-hard pale belly. "Hey," he settled himself at eye-level with her belly button. "You in there—this is your father talking."
Calleigh giggled. "Like they're going to be scared of you," she rubbed his hair playfully. "You big softie."
"Ignore that," Eric cleared his throat, sounding serious, only making Calleigh laugh harder. "You two stop moving around, Mommy's gotta get some sleep."
While the movement didn't stop entirely, the kicking subsided greatly. Calleigh gave another relieved sigh. "How do you do that?" she asked in disbelief.
Eric gave a smug smile. "I've got the touch," he pressed his lips to her bare stomach.
"Well that much I knew," she murmured, hoping he would continue his kisses.
And he did.
0x0x0
There was a large bowl of fresh, ripe oranges on the break room table when Calleigh entered the next morning. She eyed it suspiciously. "What's with all the fruit?" she asked, reaching for the electric kettle.
Natalia shrugged from her leaning position against the counter. "Suncoast Grove sent it over as a thank you gift."
"Well that's nice," she commented brightly, setting the kettle steam while she fixed the rest of her cup of tea.
"A thank you gift for what?" Ryan asked, stealing one from the bowl on his way in.
"Remember a few weeks ago? There was that body in their fields…"
Ryan's mouth frowned around the large wedge of orange he'd just shoved into it. "Wasn't he mutilated?"
Natalia's eyes rolled back in her head in thought. "I think so."
"And they sent us the crop he was rotting in?" he asked, giving a hard swallow.
"Gives a whole new meaning to the word 'blood orange,' doesn't it?" Natalia joked, making Calleigh chuckle. Ryan made a move to throw the rest of the orange away. "Oh, c'mon OCD. They wouldn't send us diseased fruit—it's not ethical. I'm sure it's fine."
"You say that now. But when you've got necrotizing fasciitis from this gift of gratitude, don't come crying to me."
The brunette rolled her eyes. "You can't even get that from fruit, Ryan," she sighed in exasperation.
"I'm not taking my chances."
Calleigh swiped the barely eaten orange off of the counter. "I'll take it—I'm starving."
"Big surprise," he scoffed.
Her face fell. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Ryan raised a confused eyebrow. "That you've been eating CSI out of house and home for the last six weeks and it's funny?"
Calleigh felt the blood rush to her face. "I have not been eating CSI out of house and home, Ryan," she flung his name at him like an insult. "And even if I had been, you could hardly blame me seeing as I have two human lives inside of me, dictating my appetite. I'd like to see you try it!"
Without another word, Calleigh stormed off with her cup of tea and half-eaten orange, slamming the door as she did so, leaving a stunned Ryan and a thoroughly amused Natalia.
"What the hell was that?" Ryan asked aloud, still staring in shock at the door.
"They're called mood swings, pal, and I think we just lived through one."
"I was making a joke!" he exclaimed.
"Yeah," she agreed with a shake of her head. "And if I were you I'd cut that out—one of these days she's just going to shoot you and be done with it."
Natalia left Ryan scratching his head in the break room.
Calleigh had stalked out of the break room and was making her way down to ballistics when she nearly upended Horatio in a mid-corridor collision. "Oh my goodness," she said, watching helplessly as he bent to retrieve his scattered files. "I'd help, I swear but I just…"
Her boss stood and brushed himself off with a small grin. "Perfectly fine, ma'am. I was actually coming to find both you and Eric—where is he?"
"We drove separately today, Lucas would have made us both late," she rolled her eyes at the memory of the frantic morning. "Why, what's going on?"
"Well, we apprehended a suspect last night," he put a hand on her elbow and steered her toward a nearby bench.
"A suspect?" she repeated with a surprised blink. "Where? What happened? I thought we only had dead ends?"
"Well, we did," he agreed, nodding his head. "But early this morning patrol noticed some suspicious activity at the crime scene."
"The crime scene—you mean our old house?"
"Yes, that's what I mean. They thought he might be looting what was left of the scene."
"Who is he?" she looked around. "Where is he? Is he over in interrogation?"
"Currently he's in a holding cell while we wait for a warrant for a handwriting and DNA sample."
"Do you think he's our stalker?" she asked, not allowing herself to hope that it could be this easy.
"I'm not sure yet," Horatio tilted his head to the side in thought. "The evidence seems to be pointing that way."
Calleigh studied his body language and evasive tone. "What aren't you telling me?" she asked after a few long moments.
"Something that's going to bias your opinion of him."
"Horatio, the man burned down my house and has been terrorizing my family for months. My opinion is about as biased as it's going to get. What else?"
He allowed himself a brief smile at her tenacity before he took a deep breath. "His name is David Wacops—he is the cousin of the man who killed Katie Wolfe."
Calleigh took a shuddering breath and ran her hands over her face, nodding slowly as she digested this information. "Ryan can't be anywhere near this," she said finally.
"I realize that, which is why I plan on keeping him in the field as much as possible today. You realize you're not allowed in interrogation, right?"
She nodded again. "Just…"
"What is it?"
"Just ask him why he did all of this," she raised her eyes to lock with his. "Okay?"
Horatio nodded and gave her arm a quick squeeze. "You have my word."
0x0x0
The warrant came through for the handwriting sample but not the DNA swab. Frank and Horatio stood over him, staring intently while he scribbled down his name and the first lines of the Declaration of Independence. When he finished, he shoved the paper across the table and sat back in his chair.
"This is some bullshit, I'm telling you right now."
Horatio glanced over the sample before motioning for an officer. "Why don't you let me decide what this is," he said quietly before handing it over. "To Sam please."
"You can't even hold me for anything," the young man said, running his hands through his hair.
In comparison to his cousin, David Wacops was a good looking man. He was taller and broader with a full head of dark hair—the only real similarities, aside from their shared surname, were the eyes. Piercing silver, glinting dangerously in the light.
"Actually," Horatio corrected conversationally, "we've already got you on looting a crime scene."
David scoffed. "Bullshit," he repeated. "I dropped a contact lens."
"You know," Frank shook his head. "I almost forget what it's like to believe little scumbags like you."
"Fine," David held up his hands. "You don't believe me, I don't care. Just write me my ticket and let me get out of here."
"You're looking at a little more than a ticket, here sparky," Frank leaned his weight onto his hands. "We already like you for a whole mess of other charges."
"Oh yeah?" the suspect looked impressed. "Like what?"
"Like arson, stalking, terrorist threats on a police officer—not to mention that little murder victim that started this whole thing," the sergeant rattled off the list. "Rosha Ortiz—name ring a bell?"
From the other side of the glass, Calleigh felt Eric's hand squeeze hers tighter. "Do you think that's him?" she asked quietly, not taking her eyes off of the scene before her.
"I don't know, Cal," her husband answered. "But if it is, handwriting will confirm it and then he's going away for a long, long time."
She nodded with a hard swallow. "I just want all of this to be over."
Eric leaned over and kissed her temple. "Me too."
Horatio accepted the analysis results from the officer and removed them from the manila envelope and studied them for a few minutes before his face twitched into a grim smile. "Looks like we've got a problem with your credibility, Mr. Wacops."
David raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"
"It seems that you just gave us a positive handwriting match to those threats we've been talking about."
"Those threats you claim you don't know anything about," Frank snidely reminded.
David Wacops sat back in the chair, nodding his head with resignation. "Okay," he shrugged nonchalantly. "You got the bad guy—I'm your man. But let me clear the record on one thing."
"That chick? Rosha whatever?"
"Ortiz, you moron."
"Right, whatever. I didn't kill her. She wrecked her car outside my store—I'd been doin' my research and hey, there she was."
Horatio cocked his head to the side. "I find that highly convenient, Mr. Wacops."
"Yeah, me too," he gave a chuckle. "I figured it was now or never—what better way to get their attention, y'know?"
Frank looked incredulously toward Horatio. "Cheerful guy, isn't he?"
"Hey," David shrugged again. "I made my point, y'know? Actions have consequences."
"And what actions might you be referring to? The Delkos are good people."
"Good people?" the suspect scoffed. "Good people don't throw a man to the wolves the way your man did in court that day."
Horatio considered this for a moment. "They do," he paused. "They do when the man in question is a monster."
"Look, like I said, my point was made. I just wanted to rile 'em up a little bit. Nobody got hurt."
"And we're going to make sure it stays that way," Horatio nodded to the patrol officer. "Take him."
He followed Wacops out of the interrogation room and made his way over to where Calleigh and Eric were seated. Eric stood and embraced him. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
Horatio smiled. "You're family," he told them in a quiet voice, accepting a hug from Calleigh as well. "You know I'd do anything for you."
Calleigh, feeling dizzy with relief, had to sit back down again. "I just…I just can't believe this is all over," she said, not letting go of Eric's hand. "No more patrol cars outside the house, Lucas can start taking the bus again…"
Eric smiled down at her. "We get to be normal people again," he gave her hand another squeeze.
Frank approached the trio with a smile. "Looks like you've got your life back, you two."
"Yes, and to celebrate," Calleigh began, an idea already blossoming inside her head, "you're both coming to the house tonight for dinner." She looked up at Eric for a moment of approval of the idea before she continued. "And Natalia and Ryan and Maxine and Alexx and her family…everybody."
Eric laughed. "Easy there, girl. You sure you're going to feel up to cooking for that many people?"
"If this isn't cause for celebration," she stated firmly, getting to her swollen feet once again, "then nothing is."
They were still laughing and working out the details when Eric's phone buzzed against his hip. "Gimme just a second," he said, excusing himself from the discussion of a menu. "This is Delko," he answered, flipping open the phone.
"Eric?" Chlorinda's voice came through the line, sounding nearly hysterical.
"Mama?" he switched quickly to Spanish to speed things along. "What is it? Is everything okay?"
His tone had been cause enough for alarm—the group turned and watched him, concern etched onto their faces.
"I went to the school to pick up Lucas for his doctor's appointment," she said around a sob. "And he's not there, Eric!"
"What do you mean he's not there?" Eric demanded, a hard knot forming in his stomach. "What are you talking about?"
"The teacher said he'd already been picked up. He's gone!"
AN: Dun dun dun. I'm sick. Like, really sick…and everyone knows the best way to recover from an illness (and prompt me to write the next chapter faster) are lots and lots of reviews. So get at it! Oh, and as it is Thanksgiving in my native (not current) country, happy Canadian Thanksgiving!!
