Chapter Twelve
"They always say talking it out makes everything better, but I disagree. When I try to tell someone what happened I can't do it. I can't let them know the truth. I can't let them know I was careless and didn't protect you like I always promised I would. I can't let them know I failed. I don't care if it costs me my integrity or respect. I won't tell the truth about that day."
Jessica wandered into her father's office and sat in the chair across from him.
"What's up, Bug?" he asked, not looking up from his paperwork.
"I've got a lead, Dad," Jessica said. "An insider told me about a gun smuggling business in the shipping district. I think we should check it out."
"Alright, is this source reliable?" Horatio inquired.
"Absolutely, he's an undercover agent with ATF, he knows his stuff."
"Alright, I'll give Eric a call and we'll head out."
"Can I go, too?" Jessica asked.
"Yeah sure, just go get your glock and meet me at Hummer one."
"I don't have a glock right now," Jessica said. "It keeps jamming so I sent it in for repairs."
"Use this one," Horatio said, pulling a gun out of his desk. "You might want to test fire it first, though. I haven't used it in a few years."
"I'm sure it's fine," Jessica said. She snapped the magazine Horatio handed her in place and pulled back the slide, loading the chamber. "I trust you, Daddy," she said with a smile.
Horatio awoke with a start. He began sobbing uncontrollably. Arianna slowly woke up and turned on the bedside light. She crawled over and curled up on his chest.
"What happened?" she whispered.
Horatio didn't say anything. He just held her and cried.
Ryan walked into the layout room, adjusting his new glasses on his face yet again. Calleigh smiled at him and carefully closed a case file.
"Hey good lookin'," she smiled as she hugged him, "How are the new specs treating you?"
"Still kind of strange," Ryan said, squinting and adjusting the glasses again.
"You only need them for the right eye?" Calleigh inquired as she began packing files back into an evidence box.
"Yeah, the other side is just dummy glass," Ryan explained. He stopped and stared at the name on the side of the evidence box. He carefully pulled it towards him and felt his eyes water as he read the name "J. Wolfe" on the cold case label. He opened the box with shaking hands and stared at his late wife's bloody clothes bagged in plastic with case file folders tucked in next to them.
"Why are you looking at Jessica's evidence?" he managed to whisper.
Calleigh was silent for a moment before she spoke. "It was my case, and I was never able to figure it out."
"That man shot her," Ryan whispered, "And she died from blood loss. Why is the case cold?"
"Yes, but there's something missing, Ryan," Calleigh explained. "There's something there that I can't figure out. It's been haunting me for over two years now. Something happened in that warehouse that I don't know about and it bothers me. I've reviewed the evidence again and again, but I can't figure it out."
Ryan lifted several manila envelopes from the box. Each was label as a different spent round.
"There were three different guns fired in that room," Calleigh quietly explained. "Two were from the men that shot her, one of them recovered from her abdomen, and there was a third single spent round on the opposite side of the room where the others were recovered. Horatio said there were only two men that ran from the room and that's all we've arrested. This third round doesn't match Jessica's weapon. In fact we didn't even recover her weapon at the crime scene. It's like she went in unarmed."
"But she would never do that," Ryan whispered. "No matter the scene Jessica always took her glock." Ryan looked at Calleigh with a sudden intensity. "Where is Jessica's glock?"
"It was recovered from the gun maintenance department about two months after she was shot," Calleigh explained. "She had turned it in for some repairs the morning of the shooting, but never picked it up."
"She never told me it was broken," Ryan whispered. "What did she use instead?"
"I don't know," Calleigh whispered. "I think there's only one person who can tell us that."
Horatio walked into his house with Arianna. She held his hand and led him into the living room. Sitting around the room were Eric, Calleigh, Natalia, Ryan, Alexx, Frank, and Tom. Horatio felt his heart begin to pound in his chest as Arianna sat him on the couch.
"Horatio," Calleigh whispered, "There's something we need to know."
Horatio looked at her and then at the coffee table that sat before him. Calleigh walked around and sat on the coffee table, bringing his gaze to her.
"Horatio, something happened that day, but we don't know what." Calleigh continued, "Something happened to Jessica while she was in the warehouse. You've never told us what happened when she was shot. We need to know, Horatio." Calleigh reached out and held his hand. "The evidence isn't adding up. You're the only one who can tell us. Please, Horatio, tell us what happened. Why was Jessica unarmed in that warehouse?"
Horatio's throat tightened and he slowly pulled his hand away from Calleigh's. Tears began to form in his eyes as memories came flooding back to him.
"It's my fault," he whispered. "I made a mistake and she's dead because of it."
"Horatio," Arianna whispered from where she sat next to him, "You keep saying that, but you never tell us why it's your fault. What happened at that warehouse that's caused you to carry the burden of Jessica's death?"
Horatio silently stood from the couch and walked into the kitchen. He unlocked the liquor cabinet and retrieved a lockbox, and carried it back into the living room. He set it on the coffee table. His hand shook as he unlocked it, revealing a blood soaked gun inside.
"I gave her a faulty weapon," he whispered. "Hers was broken and I lent her one of mine. I didn't know this one was broken, too, though. I should have test fired it first before we went out to the scene, but I didn't. It's my fault."
Calleigh slipped on a pair of gloves and carefully lifted the gun from its box. Her hand shook as she pulled back the slide and peered into the chamber.
"The casing didn't eject," she observed. "It appears it jammed up the barrel and that's why it didn't fire again."
"It's my fault," Horatio whispered, "I killed my daughter."
Arianna wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he began to sob uncontrollably. She soothingly rubbed along his spine and whispered words of comfort to him.
"No you didn't," she whispered, "Those men killed her. This isn't your fault."
"But she had to stop and look at her gun because of me," Horatio cried. "I know that's what happened. She fired once, the gun jammed on the second fire, and then she looked at it out of instinct. She's dead because I gave her a faulty gun. It's just like Speedle all over again."
"But neither time was your fault, Horatio," Alexx quietly said as she stepped forward. "Speedle was a slob and Jessie Bug was just too careless sometimes. You didn't cause either death. These things just happen. No one wanted this to happen, but it did, and we can only move forward from this point."
Horatio began sobbing again as pain ripped through his body.
"That's what you stuffed into your pants," Eric whispered.
Horatio looked at him with broken eyes. "What?" he whispered.
"When I got there you had something hidden beneath your right leg." Eric explained, "And then, whatever it was, you stuffed in the waistline of your pants, in the small of your back. You were hiding Jessica's gun because you didn't want anyone to know what happened. I didn't remember it until just now, when I saw the gun."
A pained cry escaped Horatio's lips as sorrow flowed through his body. "Yes," he whispered in a pained voice, "I didn't want anyone to know I killed my little girl."
Horatio sat silently on the couch alone. He had done it. He had revealed the one secret that he never wanted anyone to know. He had told everyone how he killed Jessica.
Arianna quietly walked in and sat next to him on the couch. She gently slipped her hand into his and leaned her head against his shoulder.
"It's not your fault," she whispered. "It never was or will be your fault. It just happened. It was the wrong place and the wrong time."
"She's dead because of me," Horatio whispered. "My little girl's dead because of me. I let her die. I should have given her the glock I knew worked. I should have insisted that she test fire it first. I should have taken the east wing."
"Horatio, there are a million things you could have done that would have resulted in a different outcome." Arianna softly cupped her hands on his face and made him look into her eyes. "But you didn't. I'm sorry Jessica died as a result of your choices, but there's nothing we can do about it now. No amount of mourning, alcohol, or self-abuse will bring her back. You can sit here everyday of your life and think of all the things you could have done but that won't bring her back. There's only one thing you can do at this point."
"What's that?" Horatio quietly asked.
"Live," Arianna whispered. "Live each day to its fullest. Live for yourself and for Jessica. Live like there's no day but today."