Disclaimer: *see chapter one*
A/N 1: Hey guys, here's chapter 14. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, this is my first fic to reach a 100 reviews and it makes me smile! Ok dorky moment over, I have finals tomorrow and mid next week, which means I'll be done with classes until Sept (yay) and able to write more. So for now, sit back and enjoy the chapter -hopefully I'll have the next one up in a week or so. :)
"Eric!" Calleigh called, quickly jogging down the floating dock where he, Ryan, Natalia and Frank were just boarding an MDPD issued boat. "Anything new?" she asked, coming to a stop and taking the hand he offered to help her board.
"We've got the yacht surrounded; the Coast Guard reported there hasn't been any movement on board."
Easily stepping onto the boat, Horatio eyed Calleigh as she sat down beside Natalia. The ride over had been an anxious one for both. "Anyone remember seeing the yacht leave Eric?"
The Cuban shook his head, "None that are sharing H."
Despite clear skies, a fair wind left the blue water choppy, ensuring the team had a bouncy ride out to the yacht. With Eric behind wheel, the group made it to the site in a little under ten minutes, being met up by the Coast Guard and told there had been no change since their last contact.
Weapons drawn, Horatio and Calleigh lead the charge onto the yacht, heading for the lower level cabin while Frank and Eric took the main deck. "Miami-Dade PD! We have the yacht surrounded, open the door and get down on the ground!" Horatio called, though nether he or Calleigh were sure what they'd find. After a few seconds with no movement or noise Horatio glanced back over his shoulder at Calleigh. The blonde nodded, her grip tightening on her gun as he prepared to open the door.
With a loud bang Horatio kicked the door open, Calleigh hot on his heels as he made his way inside the cabin. Weapons still drawn, the two realized with a quick sweep, that the room was in fact empty. Holstering her gun, Calleigh huffed, frustration and anger obvious in her voice. "Damn it, that lying son of a bitch!"
Turning to face her, Horatio watched a shudder pass through her; then reached over to squeeze her shoulder. "We could still find trace Sweetheart," The blonde scoffed bitterly and shook her head.
"Trace, what trace? This cabin is pristine Horatio -ten to one she was never even here. He sent us on a wild goose chase."
Sighing, he could do little more than watch, her retreating back quickly meeting his eyes as she went back above deck. Having met similar results in their search, Eric knew better than to question Calleigh when she emerged. The two men watched the blonde cross the deck, then hop back onto their boat and take up her seat beside Natalia.
"Is she alright H?" Eric asked, turning to face his boss as the redhead appeared.
"She will be," he replied, adding. "Eric, ride back with the Coast Guard. Then I want you, Ms. Boa Vista and to go over this vessel with a fine-tooth comb. I think Calleigh's right in assuming we won't find any trace of Caylee . . . but just in case."
Eric nodded, "Top to bottom H."
"Top bottom Eric."
MIAMIMIAMIMIAMIMIAMIMIAMI
Natalia sighed, flicking the lights back on and putting her crime light back in her kit. Trudging back up the stairs to the main deck, she walked over to stand beside Ryan, her expression filled with defeat. "Well, that was a bust. No signs of a struggle, no fibers, blood or other bodily fluids."
"Yeah, I came up clean here too. I mean I got some shoeprints, but I'm betting they're from us." Ryan answered. The pair watched Eric climb down from the upper level, hoping he'd had slightly better luck.
"Anything?" Nat asked.
"Smudges on the wheel and GPS system," Eric replied. "Nothing of use . . . but I did find this." He added, holding up an evidence bag containing a piece of metal.
Their processing of the yacht done, the trio made their way back onto the dock, leaving the boat under the watchful eye of some uniforms. The walk back to the Hummer was quiet, all three as worried as H and Calleigh for Caylee's wellbeing. As Eric pulled out onto the main road Ryan finally broke the silence.
"Nat, how's Calleigh?"
The brunette sighed from the backseat, flicking an arrant strand of bangs from her eyes. "How do you think she's doing?" Her tone was pointed adding, "The first forty-eight are up, we've got little to go on, and the cop in her is trained to expect death. It's tearing her apart . . . as always she's keeping things close to the vest, trying to stay strong."
"Where are she and H now?" Ryan asked, having lost track of them after the group had arrived back.
"Back at the warehouse where Saris shot Calleigh, they're hoping to find something that might lead us to Caylee." Eric replied.
MIAMIMIAMIMIAMIMIAMIMIAMI
Removing her gloves with a resounding smack, Calleigh ran a hand through her shoulder length hair. The warehouse was clean -minus the usual dust and some rust deposits. Standing, she eyed the dried pool of blood where Ron had bled out, knowing that even if he'd survived the gunshot wounds, they still may not have been any closer to finding Caylee and that fact tore her up inside. Hearing footsteps on the metal stairs behind her, Calleigh turned and watched as Horatio descended the last few to her. Feeling tears beginning to form, the blonde tilted her head down, hiding her face from view behind the curtain of her hair.
Placing his kit down beside hers, Horatio quickly wrapped her in a comforting embrace; his voice a soft whisper at her ear. "Hey, Sweetheart, it's gonna be alright." He soothed, his hands caressing soothingly over her back. He refused to cry, though he too was nearing breaking point.
A lone tear making its way down her cheek, Cal inhaled sharply, the breath leaving her as a quick and ragged sob. Burying her face against his chest, the blonde tried to keep from sobbing more, her voice a soft and cracked whisper as she spoke.
"I just want her back Horatio."
His arms tightened around her, his voice for once failing him and placed a kiss to the top of her head. In return she tightened her grip, seeking strength from him and struggled to regain her composure. After a few heavy minutes, the two separated, Horatio tenderly wiping a lock of hair behind her ear and placed a kiss to her forehead.
"You alright?" he asked quietly, scanning her emerald eyes. The blonde nodded; her voice still soft but sure.
"Yeah, I'm ok."
The tell-tale chirp of his phone cut between them, Ryan's voice coming through the speaker: "H?"
"Yes, ," he replied.
"Nat and Eric came up clean on the yacht, but I did manage to get some shoeprints. Most were from our people, one wasn't . . . the print contained traces of grease, rust flakes and dust."
"Those substances could be found in half the properties in Miami," Calleigh stated, her tone somewhere between exhaustion and defeat. Sighing she glanced around the room and crossed her arms over her chest.
Meanwhile, Horatio paged Ryan back, "Do we have anything else?"
"Um, yeah, Eric found a piece of metal on the upper deck; given the size it probably got stuck in someone's shoe tread." Momentarily Horatio's gaze was drawn to Calleigh, the blonde suddenly moving across the room to stand in front of a metal locker. He watched her crouch down and examine the floor, then quickly call him over.
"Keep me posted." Pocketing the phone, Horatio grabbed their kits and headed over to Calleigh. Crouching beside her, he easily spotted a large void in the dust, which was a clear sign something had been moved recently –probably another locker. "What do we have?"
"A lead?" Cal replied curiously, putting on a fresh pair of gloves and picking up a small piece of metal. Quickly pulling out her phone, she texted Ryan and asked for a digital photo of the metal they'd found. Within seconds, the tiny quirk of a pleased smile appeared on her lips, "They match."
Sharing a knowing look, the couple quickly opened the remaining locker. What they found, were several large buckets of metal shards, pieces that could be melted down and made into weights. "He used the locker to transport her," Horatio stated. He watched Calleigh nod numbly, her gaze drifting away from him, as if she were trying to remember something.
"Oh my God," the blonde whispered, realization sparking in her green eyes. "Scrap metal, that's it . . . there's a scrap yard a mile and half up the road; we passed it on the way in here." No sooner had the words left her mouth, the couple were up and running for the Hummer.
TBC . . .
A/N 2: Love/hate? You guys know the drill (and probably what's likely to come next. ;) )