"You may my glories and my state depose,
But not my griefs; still am I king of those."
William Shakespeare, King Richard the Second
***
Calleigh was worried. She had been uneasy in the first place about leaving Horatio so close to the first week in April. She had been even more uneasy after that ambiguous conversation last night. But that was nothing to the icy fist of certainty that punched her in the stomach halfway through the presentation following her own at the conference. She'd been sitting there only half paying attention, slowly unwinding after her own part, when the feeling hit her like a physical blow. Something was wrong. Badly, acutely wrong, much more wrong than it had been last night. Calleigh wasn't superstitious. Like she'd told Horatio once, she loved ballistics because it was an exact science. The answer was either yes or no, and the evidence could be weighed. But she had never in her life felt anything like this before. There was no evidence, no explanation, and absolutely no doubt. She quietly gathered her papers and slipped out of the auditorium. Once back in her hotel room, it only took her ten minutes to throw her stuff into her suitcase, check out, and retrieve her car from the garage. So she found herself on the interstate heading south hours ahead of schedule, wondering what to say to everyone if she was wrong. She would look pretty foolish, and Speed and Eric would tease her about woman's intuition. She didn't care. She would be happy to look foolish as long as Horatio was alright. She checked her watch again. She was making good time. About three more hours, and she would see him.
Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and smiled as she snapped it open. "Hi, Handsome."
"Your presentation is over by now, isn't it?" No greeting of any kind, and his voice was devoid of emotion, which with him was a sign of how much was seething under the surface.
"Horatio, what's wrong?" Her stomach tightened as her unexplained fears prepared to change into explained ones.
"Is your presentation over?" he repeated, and there was the slightest edge of desperation under his tone.
"Yes. I'm all done. What's happened?"
He let out a shuddering sigh. "Could you come back early, then, please?"
"Actually, I'm already on the way. I left early. I'll be at CSI in about three hours."
"No, come home. I'm at home."
"In the middle of the day? Horatio, what's wrong?" Worry made her tone sharper than usual with him.
His voice was still totally flat. "I've been suspended. And it's probably only a matter of time before I'm arrested for murder."
Calleigh pushed the pedal down harder. "Make it two and a half hours."
"Don't you want to know who I murdered?"
"No, because you didn't murder anybody."
For the first time, the frozen shell around his voice thawed a bit. "Thanks, Calleigh."
"Hang in there. I'm coming."
"Okay." He ended the call, like he had begun it, without any of the formalities, just putting the phone down.
Calleigh accelerated still more. To hell with the speed limit. Her mind was traveling even faster, though. Murder? How on earth could anyone accuse Horatio of murder? He had more respect for life than anybody else she'd ever known. About ten miles further down the road, her cell phone rang again. It was Alexx.
***
Calleigh made it in two hours fifteen minutes. She pulled her car into the driveway next to Alexx's and ran up the sidewalk to the door, lunging for the doorknob like a sprinter leaning toward the finish line. She burst into the living room. Horatio was sitting on the couch with his Rubic's cube, worked into a neat starburst pattern, in his hands, but his eyes weren't focused on anything. He looked up as she came in and got to his feet like he wasn't sure his legs would support him. Three running steps across the living room, and she was there, wrapping her arms and her soul around him. He buried his face in the top of her hair. "I'm here," she repeated softly. "I'm here now. It'll be okay."
After several minutes, he straightened up slightly, looking at her. "Calleigh, my ex-wife . . ."
"I know," she said. "I know everything. Alexx called me right after you did." Part of her wanted to throttle him for not calling her sooner, but she could tell he was in shock right now, and a harsh word from her at the moment would shatter him. Alexx had also told her why he hadn't called. So like Horatio, always ranking himself below responsibilities to others. At least he had called her, as soon as he thought he could. At some more appropriate time, though, she'd pin his ears back for him.
She pushed him back down onto the couch, settling herself next to him, still holding him. Her heart wept looking at his face. In the 48 hours since she'd seen him, he looked like he had aged ten years and lost ten pounds. Worst were the eyes, though. They looked totally stunned, unable to get a grip on what was happening. How had things collapsed so quickly in just two days?
"How could anybody think I could kill her?"
"It's a frame up, Horatio. Whoever did this has a head start, but we'll find him. And even with the planted evidence, you'll be okay. You've got an alibi, remember?"
He smiled faintly. "Right. You never left me."
She squeezed him tighter. "Perfect alibi. I don't think we were more than 15 feet from each other all week. I talked to Alexx, and the team wants to come over here after work, soon as they can get away. We'll form a battle plan then. We're going to beat this, Horatio."
"Alexx needs to get her car, anyway." His dazed eyes were worried suddenly. "If they help me, it might make trouble at work, though. They still have jobs. I don't want to create problems for them."
Calleigh pulled him tighter against her. "Shut up, Horatio. You're worth more than 50 jobs, and all of us think so." He leaned into her willingly. No longer alone. The last two days had seemed like eternity without her. Calleigh held him for a long time, long enough to feel the tension in every line of him, to thoroughly study his chiseled face. "Horatio, did you get any sleep last night?"
"Some," he stalled. He met her accusing eyes and continued. "It wasn't worth getting, though. I gave up about 2:30 and went to CSI."
"Were you dreaming about Marcella?" Alexx had told her how closely he'd worked with the body before he recognized her.
"Yes," he said, but it was only part of an answer.
"What else?" she insisted.
He sighed. "It keeps tangling up with my mother. I'll start out working Marcella's case, at the open grave, but I'll wind up back in that kitchen."
Present tense. A chill ran over her. He wasn't just talking about nightmares. "You mean you're still seeing it? Even when you're awake? Like last week?"
"Off and on. Not like last week, where it's constant. But sometimes."
She squeezed him tighter, suddenly worried about more than the frame up. To go straight from last week's ordeal to finding yet another faceless body of someone close to him. And he'd had to go through it alone. No one else on the team knew about last week. No one else would understand the similarity. Not even Alexx. "You should have called me."
He closed his eyes, leaning against her. "I wanted to. But you had a responsibility."
She shook him slightly. "I've got a bigger responsibility to you."
He hesitated for a moment. "You're right, Cal. I'm sorry."
She couldn't stay annoyed at him. She kissed him gently, but her heart felt like ice in her chest. All of the progress they'd made last week was threatened now, and that thought scared her even more than the thought of someone trying to frame him for murder. She had no doubt that they'd get the true murderer. The battle against his demons would be harder.
He opened his eyes suddenly, looking at her. They were still stunned but haunted behind the numbness. "I feel like I'm letting Marcella down."
"What do you mean?" She was puzzled but encouraged that he would volunteer something of what he was feeling.
"I can't even stay focused on her very long. Not even when I'm awake, thinking about it. It keeps turning back into my mother. She deserves someone grieving for her."
Calleigh kissed him again. "Horatio, that makes perfect sense. You told me yourself Marcella was just a friend, that it wasn't love. Your mother loved you. That was the much stronger relationship. Once you tied the two of them together, it would always lead back to your mother."
"I didn't even recognize her," he said. "Half the day yesterday, I worked that case and never noticed. Just felt like something was familiar. Even if it wasn't love, she deserved to be recognized." And thinking about it, just like he had said, his mind immediately jumped from that case to the death of his mother. Calleigh saw it clearly in his eyes. He shuddered slightly. "I recognized Mom right away."
Calleigh shook him gently, bringing his focus back to her. "Don't beat yourself up over it, Horatio. What she deserves, like any victim, is justice. And we'll get it for her. And you." Once again, she felt a stab of anger against Marcella, who had told Horatio that he wasn't worth staying for. Horatio, who now worried that he wasn't doing her justice. She hadn't deserved him.
He read her thoughts in her eyes, just like she had read his. "She wasn't a bad person, Cal."
"She didn't deserve you." She squeezed him more tightly. "I'm still not sure I deserve you sometimes, but I know she didn't."
After that, they both fell silent. Horatio was still leaning against her, drawing strength from her, reassuring himself that he wasn't alone anymore. Calleigh held him tightly, wondering how on earth he had survived for years with no one to really talk to. His body gradually relaxed somewhat against her. She tried to coax him into sleep, but there wasn't any sleep in him, in spite of the tiredness. His mind was still trying, and failing, to grasp all that had happened.
"How did your presentation go?" he said suddenly.
She'd forgotten about it. "It was fine. I just thought of you, like you said. It worked."
"Wish I could have heard you."
"You will. Next conference, maybe. We'll both get invited to one at some point."
"If I've still got a job," he said. The lack of emotion in the voice scared her more than total despair would have.
"We'll beat this, Horatio," she insisted. She stroked his hair, pulling his head over against her shoulder. He actually felt cold to the touch, like he was literally, as well as mentally, frozen. "Horatio, go put on your sweat suit," she said. It was warmer.
"What?" His eyes had been staring off into the distance again, and she wasn't sure he had heard her.
"Come on. Let's both go change clothes." She was still wearing the suit she'd had on for the conference presentation. With uncharacteristic passivity, he obediently followed her to the bedroom and put on the warm sweats she offered him. Then they curled up together on the couch again. She tried again to lull him to sleep, but it just wasn't working.
After an hour or so, she got up to make coffee and sandwiches. The rest of the team would be here soon. Horatio followed her into the kitchen, not even wanting to be separated by a room. She finished fixing plates and sat down at the table next to him, studying him. Her presence was helping. He looked better than he had when she had arrived. Less haunted, but still stunned. They had to start planning strategy, though. Time was crucial. Whoever was setting up Horatio, it was time to turn the tables and hunt him. She heard the cars arrive outside and stood up to go to the door, and Horatio slowly got up and followed her.
***
The team eventually settled around the living room, Alexx on the piano bench, Eric and Speed in the recliners, Horatio and Calleigh close together on the couch. Horatio still seemed like a hollow shell of himself. He was contributing to the discussion, but he wasn't taking charge, and the others kept giving him worried looks. They bounced the case points around between themselves, though, trying to piece it together, taking over for him until he snapped back to life.
"Where could he get some of your hair?" Speed wondered out loud. "He could have broken in here and stolen it from your comb. Have you noticed anything out of place?"
"No," said Calleigh. "Horatio?" He would have been more likely to notice something than she would.
"No," he said. "If he only wanted that, though, he'd be careful."
"Right," said Eric. "Not a common crook." He got up and went over to their front door, opening it, studying the lock. "Not an easy one to pick. Do you ever leave it unlocked? When you go jogging or something?"
"Only when we go down to the beach," said Calleigh. They all looked toward the back glass door that looked out on darkness now, toward their private stretch of beach.
"If he was watching you, looking for an opportunity, that could be it."
"How would he know?" said Horatio suddenly.
"Know what?"
"That we leave it unlocked when we go to the beach."
"Right," said Speed. "Too risky to try to break in with you that close unless he knew what to expect. There could be a source of inside information somewhere. Look, H, whoever this guy is, he's got one hell of a grudge against you. Someone you put away, maybe? Relative of someone you put away?"
"That ought to narrow it down," Eric muttered.
Speed plowed on over him. "Someone with enough of a grudge to be patient on it and work out information sources. You ought to start locking the door when you go down to the beach, though."
"Did you go down to the beach last week?" asked Eric. "You'd been on vacation for a day or two before the 4th. Maybe he got it then. No, wait, H said this morning you never even opened the door all week." It still sounded weird to him, even knowing how crazy those two were about each other.
Calleigh tightened her hand on Horatio's arm. "Actually, Horatio, that's not quite right. We did open it once."
"When?" He sounded puzzled.
"Monday night, to let in the caterers."
"Right," he said. "The anniversary dinner. I wasn't thinking about that this morning."
"Anniversary dinner?" Now Eric was the one puzzled. "Isn't your anniversary in September?"
Horatio tightened up instantly, retreating even further into his shell, and Calleigh, mentally kicking herself for bringing it up at all, quickly lied so that he wouldn't have to. "We decided to celebrate it early," she said glibly, her eyes challenging anybody else in the room to disbelieve her or to take that subject further. No one took up the challenge. A stiff silence settled over the room for a minute.
"So, the letters," said Eric. He could never stand stiff silences. "That's got to be forgery, but it's first class."
"I've got a friend from college who married a graphologist," Calleigh suddenly remembered. "I'll get copies of the letters, and we can go see him tomorrow. That's the easiest part of this case to break, since we know Horatio didn't sign them. The hair will be harder. If we can prove the letters are fakes, that plus the alibi will really make Tripp have to look elsewhere."
"The alibi is that good?" Alexx was still watching Horatio with concern. She wanted reassurance for him as well as herself.
"Cast iron," said Calleigh. "I'm telling you, we weren't more than 15 feet from each other all week. Sunday night to Sunday afternoon, we never left the house." It was a sign of the seriousness of the situation that neither Eric nor Speed tried to make a joke out of her statement.
"Good thing," said Speed. "Since you were on vacation that week, it should've been harder to account for your time than at CSI. Wonder if he knew you were on vacation. Just good luck that you never happened to be alone."
Horatio's head snapped up suddenly with the most animation he'd shown all night. Calleigh reacted a split second later, and they turned to lock eyes. The communication waves were almost visible. "An inside source. . ." he said finally. "She was the inside source herself. The timing can't be coincidence."
"Even down to assuming you'd be alone. That's got to be it," said Calleigh.
"What?" Eric looked from one to the other of them. "You guys lost me there."
Horatio turned back to face him. The light in his eyes was a candle, not a laser, but it was at least something. "We're looking for someone who had a relationship with Marcella. A close relationship, extending over months. Not just a casual acquaintance. He would have to have earned her trust slowly, and she wasn't gullible. We need to check her contacts. That's where we'll find him."
"Horatio," said Calleigh gently, "is there any other possible source of information?"
"No," he said flatly.
She accepted it. "Okay, tomorrow, we need to start tracking her contacts. And I want to take the letters to my friend's husband." She glanced at Horatio. The momentary flicker of light in his eyes was already fading as the implications took hold. This was even more personal than he had thought it was. "One more thing, Horatio. I don't think you need to be alone at any point until this case is closed." He started to challenge her half-heartedly, and she cut him off. "We don't know if he's planned something else. Your alibi for last week was unexpected. He may have other things he's going to set you up for now that you're suspended. We don't need to give him an opportunity." Besides, it would give her an excellent excuse, one the team wouldn't question, for sticking to him like glue. "So tomorrow, I'll get some time off myself."
Speed snorted. "Good luck. Wilson is the biggest jackass I've ever seen."
"Who's Wilson?" Calleigh wasn't up-to-date on that part.
"The jerk supposedly in charge of CSI temporarily. I looked him up in the database today," said Eric. "He's new to Miami, but he's worked in a crime lab before. Much smaller city. He's one of those people who has to shove his rank in your face. Won't trust people to do their jobs. He'll go crazy in three days at CSI, trying to supervise every detail."
"Unless he drives us crazy first," said Speed.
"He even came down this afternoon to give me some tips on performing autopsies," said Alexx. Everyone but Horatio grinned at that. He seemed to be lost in space again.
"You just took vacation," said Eric. "What if he won't give you time off?"
"I'll quit," Calleigh replied instantly.
Horatio came to life a bit. "You can't quit, Cal."
"Why not? Wilson's only temporary, and as soon as you're back, you can rehire me." Horatio started to protest, and the phone in the kitchen rang at that minute. He got up from the couch and went into the next room to answer it.
Speed instantly leaned forward in his chair and dropped his voice into a whisper. "So what was that about last week and timing, Calleigh?"
Calleigh quickly looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen door. She could hear Horatio's voice but not make out the words. As stunned as he was at the moment, he probably couldn't overhear their conversation. She turned back to find all three of her colleagues leaning forward eagerly. "I can't tell you," she said. "I'm sorry, guys, but telling you isn't my decision to make." Alexx looked even more concerned than she had, but Speed and Eric had the same thought simultaneously, and Calleigh saw it race across their faces. "And don't you dare ask him about it. Please, everyone, don't push him on this. He's already got enough to worry about right now, and you could make it a lot worse." He was already having flashbacks again; she was terrified that he would be knocked back into last week's ordeal. Speed and Eric looked puzzled at the urgency in her voice. "Please," she repeated. "Trust me on this. Leave it alone." They all looked puzzled. "Promise me," she insisted.
"All right," said Alexx, with the other two chiming in as a delayed echo.
After that, there didn't seem to be anything else to say. They could still hear Horatio in the kitchen. Eric looked around the room, studying the pictures on the wall. Speed suddenly noticed the Rubic's cube sitting on the coffee table. He leaned forward and picked it up. "I used to know a guy in college who had one of these. He could work it in five minutes." His voice trailed off as he realized suddenly that the cube wasn't just randomly scrambled but worked into an intricate starburst pattern. "How the hell?" He shifted several rows on it, then gave up and put it back on the table, joining Eric in looking at pictures. Alexx sat there looking at Calleigh with a concerned sympathy that made Calleigh want to break down and tell her everything, but she couldn't. The less Horatio had to face from that week at the moment, the better. Talking about it wouldn't help, not even with friends. Only catching the real perp would make a difference. She was starting to realize how carefully this man had planned every detail, and it scared the hell out of her. Horatio wasn't safe until he was behind bars.
Horatio came back into the living room and sat down again next to Calleigh. She touched his arm lightly, reassuring him that she was still there. "That was Tripp," he said. "He wants to talk to me tomorrow morning. Down at headquarters. 10:00." He suddenly noticed that the cube had been knocked out of order and frowned slightly. Picking it up, he reversed Speed's moves in about ten seconds and put it back on the table, once again a perfect starburst. Speed's jaw literally fell open, as did Eric's across the room. Horatio didn't notice. "You might not have much time left in this week to worry about giving me an alibi for, Calleigh."
"He's not going to arrest you," she reassured him. "I'll go with you. He'll want to ask me about last week, anyway. But if he was going to arrest you, he wouldn't tell you twelve hours ahead of time."
Horatio glanced at his watch automatically as she referred to the time. "Speed?"
Speed slowly picked his jaw up off the floor. "Yeah, H?"
"Didn't you have a date tonight?"
Speed came straight up out of his chair. "Oh, hell! I totally forgot about it." He quickly pulled out his cell phone and went into the kitchen for privacy. He came back a minute later. "She's not answering. I left her a message."
"I'm sorry," said Horatio.
"Hey, it's not your fault. I should've remembered to call her." He regretted not calling her, but he didn't wish he'd gone on the date instead. Horatio gave him a faint grin.
"Thanks for coming over here tonight, all of you. Speed, you'd better get going, though. She may still be at your apartment."
"Right. See you tomorrow, um, at some point." Foot in mouth again, he thought as he headed out and started his bike. He had nearly told H he'd see him at work. How many times could he be a stupid idiot in one night?
Back in the house, Alexx stood up. "We'd all better get going. You two need to get some rest tonight if you want to be ready to fight this thing tomorrow." She came across to the couch, pulled Horatio to his feet, and wrapped him in the strongest, warmest hug she could give. He was surprised, but he responded after a few seconds. "Everything will work out, Horatio," she promised him. She hugged Calleigh in turn, then took the car keys Horatio offered her and left.
Eric hesitated for a second, then stood up himself. "Night, Cal. Night, H."
"Make me copies of those letters in the morning, Eric," Calleigh requested. "I'll pick them up when I come in to quit."
"You got it."
Calleigh and Horatio sat on the couch in silence for a few minutes. She put her arm around him, and he leaned against her. The inertia of tiredness was kicking in, but he was still tense. "She could never have imagined that I wouldn't be alone on April 4th," he said finally. "He used her, for information about me, then killed her." He shuddered slightly. "So she died because she knew me."
"Stop it," said Calleigh firmly. "It may be something else entirely. Are you sure no one else ever knew about last week? Ray? Yelina? They could have told someone."
"They never knew. Ray didn't even know how Mom died."
"What?" Calleigh straightened up in surprise. "I always assumed . . ." Her voice trailed off.
"He thinks she was shot. I didn't tell him that; he just assumed it. But I didn't let him go in the house. He never saw her, and I never told him. He couldn't have handled it."
Calleigh squeezed him tighter, stunned again by his selflessness. The one person who could have most identified with him, and Horatio deliberately took the full knowledge alone.
"Al knew that I couldn't remember what she looked like. But no one except Marcella ever knew about that week every year. Until you."
"I worked it out. Someone else could have."
"No, it was her." He was sure of it. The trouble was, so was Calleigh. "She joked the night she was leaving, that she was escaping the influence of my jinx. I guess she didn't after all. It just took eight years to catch her."
Calleigh shook him slightly. "Horatio, you are not a jinx. Remember what your mother told you? You're probably heading for 4300 by now."
He nodded slightly. "Right, I'm not a jinx." She let out a half sigh of relief. "Maybe I'm a catalyst, though."
"Stop it," she said again. "Marcella might have known this perp anyway, and he wanted her out of the way. Maybe framing you was a bonus, not the only reason he wanted to know her."
He considered that, thinking of Marcella. "Who would want to kill her, though? She was harmless." And thinking about her dead, his mind immediately jumped tracks again and wound up at the mental image of his mother. Calleigh squeezed him again, then stood up.
"I'm just getting us a refill," she said, picking up their coffee cups. He settled back against the couch, the exhaustion making it too much effort to get up. His mind was still trying to work it out, though, even if his body was numb.
Harmless, Calleigh thought to herself as she refilled their coffee cups. She'd told him alive that he wasn't worth anything, probably unknowingly provided information to someone else on how to hurt him, and was haunting him now that she was dead. Marcella, Calleigh thought, you'd better hope that we wind up in different destinations in the hereafter. Otherwise, woman, you'll pay for this.
She rejoined Horatio on the couch and handed him his cup, hoping that the warm liquid might thaw his spirit a bit. He drank it, but he still seemed numb. "I'm glad you're back," he said suddenly. "I did want to tell you. Are you mad at me?"
How could anyone be mad at him at the moment? She slipped her arm around his shoulders again, pulling him against her. "No. But if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I promise you, I will be mad. Understood?"
He grinned halfheartedly. "Loud and clear." They finished their coffee, and Calleigh put the cups on the table, next to the cube.
"Did you see Speed's face, when you worked the cube?"
"No. What about it?"
She rubbed his hair affectionately. Horatio honestly didn't realize how special he was. "We're going to beat this, Horatio."
"Who could have hated her that much? Who could hate me that much? I don't know where to start." He sounded totally lost, nothing like his usual self.
"We'll start tomorrow. We'll talk to Tripp in the morning, and then we'll take those letters to get analyzed." She pulled him tighter against her, rubbing his shoulders gently. It took longer than she had expected, but finally she felt the knots of tension begin to dissolve. She got to her feet. "Come on, Horatio. Bedtime." She pulled him up, then steadied him as his feet went in different directions. She could see the gears turning behind the growing haziness in his blue eyes.
"You put something in that coffee."
"You're right," she said. "I refuse to sit here and watch you run on a mental hamster wheel all night. You need some rest before tomorrow."
"Cal . . ." The protest trailed off. She put his arm around her shoulders.
"Come on, Horatio. We've got to get to the bedroom, unless you want to spend all night on the floor. Help me out here."
Their path down the hall was as crazy as some she'd walked with her father, but somehow they managed it, Calleigh with both arms around his chest, supporting him, and Horatio helping her as much as he could. They were almost to the bed when he totally collapsed, falling halfway across it. Calleigh pulled his feet up onto the bed, straightened him out, and undressed him, then got undressed herself and climbed in beside him. She pulled a warm blanket up over both of them, but it didn't thaw the chunk of ice in her chest. Horatio was still in shock tonight, and he hadn't followed the chain of conclusions all the way yet, but she had. If the timing of Marcella's murder was intentional, then the method was also intentional. Marcella's face had been totally destroyed specifically to remind Horatio of Rosalind, and the murderer had gone so far, even shaving her hair, in hopes that Horatio would work the case closely for a while before she was identified. Whoever they were after, he was deliberately playing with Horatio's mind, not only framing him for murder but trying to shatter his mental stability at the precise point where it was most fragile. Calleigh looked at Horatio's face again and tried to smooth out some of the lines of stress with her hand. They were still there. She kissed him gently, then switched out the light, but she stayed awake for a long time, nestled tightly against him, a watchful sentinel, and her voice was a fervent whispered plea into the darkness. "God help us."
William Shakespeare, King Richard the Second
***
Calleigh was worried. She had been uneasy in the first place about leaving Horatio so close to the first week in April. She had been even more uneasy after that ambiguous conversation last night. But that was nothing to the icy fist of certainty that punched her in the stomach halfway through the presentation following her own at the conference. She'd been sitting there only half paying attention, slowly unwinding after her own part, when the feeling hit her like a physical blow. Something was wrong. Badly, acutely wrong, much more wrong than it had been last night. Calleigh wasn't superstitious. Like she'd told Horatio once, she loved ballistics because it was an exact science. The answer was either yes or no, and the evidence could be weighed. But she had never in her life felt anything like this before. There was no evidence, no explanation, and absolutely no doubt. She quietly gathered her papers and slipped out of the auditorium. Once back in her hotel room, it only took her ten minutes to throw her stuff into her suitcase, check out, and retrieve her car from the garage. So she found herself on the interstate heading south hours ahead of schedule, wondering what to say to everyone if she was wrong. She would look pretty foolish, and Speed and Eric would tease her about woman's intuition. She didn't care. She would be happy to look foolish as long as Horatio was alright. She checked her watch again. She was making good time. About three more hours, and she would see him.
Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and smiled as she snapped it open. "Hi, Handsome."
"Your presentation is over by now, isn't it?" No greeting of any kind, and his voice was devoid of emotion, which with him was a sign of how much was seething under the surface.
"Horatio, what's wrong?" Her stomach tightened as her unexplained fears prepared to change into explained ones.
"Is your presentation over?" he repeated, and there was the slightest edge of desperation under his tone.
"Yes. I'm all done. What's happened?"
He let out a shuddering sigh. "Could you come back early, then, please?"
"Actually, I'm already on the way. I left early. I'll be at CSI in about three hours."
"No, come home. I'm at home."
"In the middle of the day? Horatio, what's wrong?" Worry made her tone sharper than usual with him.
His voice was still totally flat. "I've been suspended. And it's probably only a matter of time before I'm arrested for murder."
Calleigh pushed the pedal down harder. "Make it two and a half hours."
"Don't you want to know who I murdered?"
"No, because you didn't murder anybody."
For the first time, the frozen shell around his voice thawed a bit. "Thanks, Calleigh."
"Hang in there. I'm coming."
"Okay." He ended the call, like he had begun it, without any of the formalities, just putting the phone down.
Calleigh accelerated still more. To hell with the speed limit. Her mind was traveling even faster, though. Murder? How on earth could anyone accuse Horatio of murder? He had more respect for life than anybody else she'd ever known. About ten miles further down the road, her cell phone rang again. It was Alexx.
***
Calleigh made it in two hours fifteen minutes. She pulled her car into the driveway next to Alexx's and ran up the sidewalk to the door, lunging for the doorknob like a sprinter leaning toward the finish line. She burst into the living room. Horatio was sitting on the couch with his Rubic's cube, worked into a neat starburst pattern, in his hands, but his eyes weren't focused on anything. He looked up as she came in and got to his feet like he wasn't sure his legs would support him. Three running steps across the living room, and she was there, wrapping her arms and her soul around him. He buried his face in the top of her hair. "I'm here," she repeated softly. "I'm here now. It'll be okay."
After several minutes, he straightened up slightly, looking at her. "Calleigh, my ex-wife . . ."
"I know," she said. "I know everything. Alexx called me right after you did." Part of her wanted to throttle him for not calling her sooner, but she could tell he was in shock right now, and a harsh word from her at the moment would shatter him. Alexx had also told her why he hadn't called. So like Horatio, always ranking himself below responsibilities to others. At least he had called her, as soon as he thought he could. At some more appropriate time, though, she'd pin his ears back for him.
She pushed him back down onto the couch, settling herself next to him, still holding him. Her heart wept looking at his face. In the 48 hours since she'd seen him, he looked like he had aged ten years and lost ten pounds. Worst were the eyes, though. They looked totally stunned, unable to get a grip on what was happening. How had things collapsed so quickly in just two days?
"How could anybody think I could kill her?"
"It's a frame up, Horatio. Whoever did this has a head start, but we'll find him. And even with the planted evidence, you'll be okay. You've got an alibi, remember?"
He smiled faintly. "Right. You never left me."
She squeezed him tighter. "Perfect alibi. I don't think we were more than 15 feet from each other all week. I talked to Alexx, and the team wants to come over here after work, soon as they can get away. We'll form a battle plan then. We're going to beat this, Horatio."
"Alexx needs to get her car, anyway." His dazed eyes were worried suddenly. "If they help me, it might make trouble at work, though. They still have jobs. I don't want to create problems for them."
Calleigh pulled him tighter against her. "Shut up, Horatio. You're worth more than 50 jobs, and all of us think so." He leaned into her willingly. No longer alone. The last two days had seemed like eternity without her. Calleigh held him for a long time, long enough to feel the tension in every line of him, to thoroughly study his chiseled face. "Horatio, did you get any sleep last night?"
"Some," he stalled. He met her accusing eyes and continued. "It wasn't worth getting, though. I gave up about 2:30 and went to CSI."
"Were you dreaming about Marcella?" Alexx had told her how closely he'd worked with the body before he recognized her.
"Yes," he said, but it was only part of an answer.
"What else?" she insisted.
He sighed. "It keeps tangling up with my mother. I'll start out working Marcella's case, at the open grave, but I'll wind up back in that kitchen."
Present tense. A chill ran over her. He wasn't just talking about nightmares. "You mean you're still seeing it? Even when you're awake? Like last week?"
"Off and on. Not like last week, where it's constant. But sometimes."
She squeezed him tighter, suddenly worried about more than the frame up. To go straight from last week's ordeal to finding yet another faceless body of someone close to him. And he'd had to go through it alone. No one else on the team knew about last week. No one else would understand the similarity. Not even Alexx. "You should have called me."
He closed his eyes, leaning against her. "I wanted to. But you had a responsibility."
She shook him slightly. "I've got a bigger responsibility to you."
He hesitated for a moment. "You're right, Cal. I'm sorry."
She couldn't stay annoyed at him. She kissed him gently, but her heart felt like ice in her chest. All of the progress they'd made last week was threatened now, and that thought scared her even more than the thought of someone trying to frame him for murder. She had no doubt that they'd get the true murderer. The battle against his demons would be harder.
He opened his eyes suddenly, looking at her. They were still stunned but haunted behind the numbness. "I feel like I'm letting Marcella down."
"What do you mean?" She was puzzled but encouraged that he would volunteer something of what he was feeling.
"I can't even stay focused on her very long. Not even when I'm awake, thinking about it. It keeps turning back into my mother. She deserves someone grieving for her."
Calleigh kissed him again. "Horatio, that makes perfect sense. You told me yourself Marcella was just a friend, that it wasn't love. Your mother loved you. That was the much stronger relationship. Once you tied the two of them together, it would always lead back to your mother."
"I didn't even recognize her," he said. "Half the day yesterday, I worked that case and never noticed. Just felt like something was familiar. Even if it wasn't love, she deserved to be recognized." And thinking about it, just like he had said, his mind immediately jumped from that case to the death of his mother. Calleigh saw it clearly in his eyes. He shuddered slightly. "I recognized Mom right away."
Calleigh shook him gently, bringing his focus back to her. "Don't beat yourself up over it, Horatio. What she deserves, like any victim, is justice. And we'll get it for her. And you." Once again, she felt a stab of anger against Marcella, who had told Horatio that he wasn't worth staying for. Horatio, who now worried that he wasn't doing her justice. She hadn't deserved him.
He read her thoughts in her eyes, just like she had read his. "She wasn't a bad person, Cal."
"She didn't deserve you." She squeezed him more tightly. "I'm still not sure I deserve you sometimes, but I know she didn't."
After that, they both fell silent. Horatio was still leaning against her, drawing strength from her, reassuring himself that he wasn't alone anymore. Calleigh held him tightly, wondering how on earth he had survived for years with no one to really talk to. His body gradually relaxed somewhat against her. She tried to coax him into sleep, but there wasn't any sleep in him, in spite of the tiredness. His mind was still trying, and failing, to grasp all that had happened.
"How did your presentation go?" he said suddenly.
She'd forgotten about it. "It was fine. I just thought of you, like you said. It worked."
"Wish I could have heard you."
"You will. Next conference, maybe. We'll both get invited to one at some point."
"If I've still got a job," he said. The lack of emotion in the voice scared her more than total despair would have.
"We'll beat this, Horatio," she insisted. She stroked his hair, pulling his head over against her shoulder. He actually felt cold to the touch, like he was literally, as well as mentally, frozen. "Horatio, go put on your sweat suit," she said. It was warmer.
"What?" His eyes had been staring off into the distance again, and she wasn't sure he had heard her.
"Come on. Let's both go change clothes." She was still wearing the suit she'd had on for the conference presentation. With uncharacteristic passivity, he obediently followed her to the bedroom and put on the warm sweats she offered him. Then they curled up together on the couch again. She tried again to lull him to sleep, but it just wasn't working.
After an hour or so, she got up to make coffee and sandwiches. The rest of the team would be here soon. Horatio followed her into the kitchen, not even wanting to be separated by a room. She finished fixing plates and sat down at the table next to him, studying him. Her presence was helping. He looked better than he had when she had arrived. Less haunted, but still stunned. They had to start planning strategy, though. Time was crucial. Whoever was setting up Horatio, it was time to turn the tables and hunt him. She heard the cars arrive outside and stood up to go to the door, and Horatio slowly got up and followed her.
***
The team eventually settled around the living room, Alexx on the piano bench, Eric and Speed in the recliners, Horatio and Calleigh close together on the couch. Horatio still seemed like a hollow shell of himself. He was contributing to the discussion, but he wasn't taking charge, and the others kept giving him worried looks. They bounced the case points around between themselves, though, trying to piece it together, taking over for him until he snapped back to life.
"Where could he get some of your hair?" Speed wondered out loud. "He could have broken in here and stolen it from your comb. Have you noticed anything out of place?"
"No," said Calleigh. "Horatio?" He would have been more likely to notice something than she would.
"No," he said. "If he only wanted that, though, he'd be careful."
"Right," said Eric. "Not a common crook." He got up and went over to their front door, opening it, studying the lock. "Not an easy one to pick. Do you ever leave it unlocked? When you go jogging or something?"
"Only when we go down to the beach," said Calleigh. They all looked toward the back glass door that looked out on darkness now, toward their private stretch of beach.
"If he was watching you, looking for an opportunity, that could be it."
"How would he know?" said Horatio suddenly.
"Know what?"
"That we leave it unlocked when we go to the beach."
"Right," said Speed. "Too risky to try to break in with you that close unless he knew what to expect. There could be a source of inside information somewhere. Look, H, whoever this guy is, he's got one hell of a grudge against you. Someone you put away, maybe? Relative of someone you put away?"
"That ought to narrow it down," Eric muttered.
Speed plowed on over him. "Someone with enough of a grudge to be patient on it and work out information sources. You ought to start locking the door when you go down to the beach, though."
"Did you go down to the beach last week?" asked Eric. "You'd been on vacation for a day or two before the 4th. Maybe he got it then. No, wait, H said this morning you never even opened the door all week." It still sounded weird to him, even knowing how crazy those two were about each other.
Calleigh tightened her hand on Horatio's arm. "Actually, Horatio, that's not quite right. We did open it once."
"When?" He sounded puzzled.
"Monday night, to let in the caterers."
"Right," he said. "The anniversary dinner. I wasn't thinking about that this morning."
"Anniversary dinner?" Now Eric was the one puzzled. "Isn't your anniversary in September?"
Horatio tightened up instantly, retreating even further into his shell, and Calleigh, mentally kicking herself for bringing it up at all, quickly lied so that he wouldn't have to. "We decided to celebrate it early," she said glibly, her eyes challenging anybody else in the room to disbelieve her or to take that subject further. No one took up the challenge. A stiff silence settled over the room for a minute.
"So, the letters," said Eric. He could never stand stiff silences. "That's got to be forgery, but it's first class."
"I've got a friend from college who married a graphologist," Calleigh suddenly remembered. "I'll get copies of the letters, and we can go see him tomorrow. That's the easiest part of this case to break, since we know Horatio didn't sign them. The hair will be harder. If we can prove the letters are fakes, that plus the alibi will really make Tripp have to look elsewhere."
"The alibi is that good?" Alexx was still watching Horatio with concern. She wanted reassurance for him as well as herself.
"Cast iron," said Calleigh. "I'm telling you, we weren't more than 15 feet from each other all week. Sunday night to Sunday afternoon, we never left the house." It was a sign of the seriousness of the situation that neither Eric nor Speed tried to make a joke out of her statement.
"Good thing," said Speed. "Since you were on vacation that week, it should've been harder to account for your time than at CSI. Wonder if he knew you were on vacation. Just good luck that you never happened to be alone."
Horatio's head snapped up suddenly with the most animation he'd shown all night. Calleigh reacted a split second later, and they turned to lock eyes. The communication waves were almost visible. "An inside source. . ." he said finally. "She was the inside source herself. The timing can't be coincidence."
"Even down to assuming you'd be alone. That's got to be it," said Calleigh.
"What?" Eric looked from one to the other of them. "You guys lost me there."
Horatio turned back to face him. The light in his eyes was a candle, not a laser, but it was at least something. "We're looking for someone who had a relationship with Marcella. A close relationship, extending over months. Not just a casual acquaintance. He would have to have earned her trust slowly, and she wasn't gullible. We need to check her contacts. That's where we'll find him."
"Horatio," said Calleigh gently, "is there any other possible source of information?"
"No," he said flatly.
She accepted it. "Okay, tomorrow, we need to start tracking her contacts. And I want to take the letters to my friend's husband." She glanced at Horatio. The momentary flicker of light in his eyes was already fading as the implications took hold. This was even more personal than he had thought it was. "One more thing, Horatio. I don't think you need to be alone at any point until this case is closed." He started to challenge her half-heartedly, and she cut him off. "We don't know if he's planned something else. Your alibi for last week was unexpected. He may have other things he's going to set you up for now that you're suspended. We don't need to give him an opportunity." Besides, it would give her an excellent excuse, one the team wouldn't question, for sticking to him like glue. "So tomorrow, I'll get some time off myself."
Speed snorted. "Good luck. Wilson is the biggest jackass I've ever seen."
"Who's Wilson?" Calleigh wasn't up-to-date on that part.
"The jerk supposedly in charge of CSI temporarily. I looked him up in the database today," said Eric. "He's new to Miami, but he's worked in a crime lab before. Much smaller city. He's one of those people who has to shove his rank in your face. Won't trust people to do their jobs. He'll go crazy in three days at CSI, trying to supervise every detail."
"Unless he drives us crazy first," said Speed.
"He even came down this afternoon to give me some tips on performing autopsies," said Alexx. Everyone but Horatio grinned at that. He seemed to be lost in space again.
"You just took vacation," said Eric. "What if he won't give you time off?"
"I'll quit," Calleigh replied instantly.
Horatio came to life a bit. "You can't quit, Cal."
"Why not? Wilson's only temporary, and as soon as you're back, you can rehire me." Horatio started to protest, and the phone in the kitchen rang at that minute. He got up from the couch and went into the next room to answer it.
Speed instantly leaned forward in his chair and dropped his voice into a whisper. "So what was that about last week and timing, Calleigh?"
Calleigh quickly looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen door. She could hear Horatio's voice but not make out the words. As stunned as he was at the moment, he probably couldn't overhear their conversation. She turned back to find all three of her colleagues leaning forward eagerly. "I can't tell you," she said. "I'm sorry, guys, but telling you isn't my decision to make." Alexx looked even more concerned than she had, but Speed and Eric had the same thought simultaneously, and Calleigh saw it race across their faces. "And don't you dare ask him about it. Please, everyone, don't push him on this. He's already got enough to worry about right now, and you could make it a lot worse." He was already having flashbacks again; she was terrified that he would be knocked back into last week's ordeal. Speed and Eric looked puzzled at the urgency in her voice. "Please," she repeated. "Trust me on this. Leave it alone." They all looked puzzled. "Promise me," she insisted.
"All right," said Alexx, with the other two chiming in as a delayed echo.
After that, there didn't seem to be anything else to say. They could still hear Horatio in the kitchen. Eric looked around the room, studying the pictures on the wall. Speed suddenly noticed the Rubic's cube sitting on the coffee table. He leaned forward and picked it up. "I used to know a guy in college who had one of these. He could work it in five minutes." His voice trailed off as he realized suddenly that the cube wasn't just randomly scrambled but worked into an intricate starburst pattern. "How the hell?" He shifted several rows on it, then gave up and put it back on the table, joining Eric in looking at pictures. Alexx sat there looking at Calleigh with a concerned sympathy that made Calleigh want to break down and tell her everything, but she couldn't. The less Horatio had to face from that week at the moment, the better. Talking about it wouldn't help, not even with friends. Only catching the real perp would make a difference. She was starting to realize how carefully this man had planned every detail, and it scared the hell out of her. Horatio wasn't safe until he was behind bars.
Horatio came back into the living room and sat down again next to Calleigh. She touched his arm lightly, reassuring him that she was still there. "That was Tripp," he said. "He wants to talk to me tomorrow morning. Down at headquarters. 10:00." He suddenly noticed that the cube had been knocked out of order and frowned slightly. Picking it up, he reversed Speed's moves in about ten seconds and put it back on the table, once again a perfect starburst. Speed's jaw literally fell open, as did Eric's across the room. Horatio didn't notice. "You might not have much time left in this week to worry about giving me an alibi for, Calleigh."
"He's not going to arrest you," she reassured him. "I'll go with you. He'll want to ask me about last week, anyway. But if he was going to arrest you, he wouldn't tell you twelve hours ahead of time."
Horatio glanced at his watch automatically as she referred to the time. "Speed?"
Speed slowly picked his jaw up off the floor. "Yeah, H?"
"Didn't you have a date tonight?"
Speed came straight up out of his chair. "Oh, hell! I totally forgot about it." He quickly pulled out his cell phone and went into the kitchen for privacy. He came back a minute later. "She's not answering. I left her a message."
"I'm sorry," said Horatio.
"Hey, it's not your fault. I should've remembered to call her." He regretted not calling her, but he didn't wish he'd gone on the date instead. Horatio gave him a faint grin.
"Thanks for coming over here tonight, all of you. Speed, you'd better get going, though. She may still be at your apartment."
"Right. See you tomorrow, um, at some point." Foot in mouth again, he thought as he headed out and started his bike. He had nearly told H he'd see him at work. How many times could he be a stupid idiot in one night?
Back in the house, Alexx stood up. "We'd all better get going. You two need to get some rest tonight if you want to be ready to fight this thing tomorrow." She came across to the couch, pulled Horatio to his feet, and wrapped him in the strongest, warmest hug she could give. He was surprised, but he responded after a few seconds. "Everything will work out, Horatio," she promised him. She hugged Calleigh in turn, then took the car keys Horatio offered her and left.
Eric hesitated for a second, then stood up himself. "Night, Cal. Night, H."
"Make me copies of those letters in the morning, Eric," Calleigh requested. "I'll pick them up when I come in to quit."
"You got it."
Calleigh and Horatio sat on the couch in silence for a few minutes. She put her arm around him, and he leaned against her. The inertia of tiredness was kicking in, but he was still tense. "She could never have imagined that I wouldn't be alone on April 4th," he said finally. "He used her, for information about me, then killed her." He shuddered slightly. "So she died because she knew me."
"Stop it," said Calleigh firmly. "It may be something else entirely. Are you sure no one else ever knew about last week? Ray? Yelina? They could have told someone."
"They never knew. Ray didn't even know how Mom died."
"What?" Calleigh straightened up in surprise. "I always assumed . . ." Her voice trailed off.
"He thinks she was shot. I didn't tell him that; he just assumed it. But I didn't let him go in the house. He never saw her, and I never told him. He couldn't have handled it."
Calleigh squeezed him tighter, stunned again by his selflessness. The one person who could have most identified with him, and Horatio deliberately took the full knowledge alone.
"Al knew that I couldn't remember what she looked like. But no one except Marcella ever knew about that week every year. Until you."
"I worked it out. Someone else could have."
"No, it was her." He was sure of it. The trouble was, so was Calleigh. "She joked the night she was leaving, that she was escaping the influence of my jinx. I guess she didn't after all. It just took eight years to catch her."
Calleigh shook him slightly. "Horatio, you are not a jinx. Remember what your mother told you? You're probably heading for 4300 by now."
He nodded slightly. "Right, I'm not a jinx." She let out a half sigh of relief. "Maybe I'm a catalyst, though."
"Stop it," she said again. "Marcella might have known this perp anyway, and he wanted her out of the way. Maybe framing you was a bonus, not the only reason he wanted to know her."
He considered that, thinking of Marcella. "Who would want to kill her, though? She was harmless." And thinking about her dead, his mind immediately jumped tracks again and wound up at the mental image of his mother. Calleigh squeezed him again, then stood up.
"I'm just getting us a refill," she said, picking up their coffee cups. He settled back against the couch, the exhaustion making it too much effort to get up. His mind was still trying to work it out, though, even if his body was numb.
Harmless, Calleigh thought to herself as she refilled their coffee cups. She'd told him alive that he wasn't worth anything, probably unknowingly provided information to someone else on how to hurt him, and was haunting him now that she was dead. Marcella, Calleigh thought, you'd better hope that we wind up in different destinations in the hereafter. Otherwise, woman, you'll pay for this.
She rejoined Horatio on the couch and handed him his cup, hoping that the warm liquid might thaw his spirit a bit. He drank it, but he still seemed numb. "I'm glad you're back," he said suddenly. "I did want to tell you. Are you mad at me?"
How could anyone be mad at him at the moment? She slipped her arm around his shoulders again, pulling him against her. "No. But if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I promise you, I will be mad. Understood?"
He grinned halfheartedly. "Loud and clear." They finished their coffee, and Calleigh put the cups on the table, next to the cube.
"Did you see Speed's face, when you worked the cube?"
"No. What about it?"
She rubbed his hair affectionately. Horatio honestly didn't realize how special he was. "We're going to beat this, Horatio."
"Who could have hated her that much? Who could hate me that much? I don't know where to start." He sounded totally lost, nothing like his usual self.
"We'll start tomorrow. We'll talk to Tripp in the morning, and then we'll take those letters to get analyzed." She pulled him tighter against her, rubbing his shoulders gently. It took longer than she had expected, but finally she felt the knots of tension begin to dissolve. She got to her feet. "Come on, Horatio. Bedtime." She pulled him up, then steadied him as his feet went in different directions. She could see the gears turning behind the growing haziness in his blue eyes.
"You put something in that coffee."
"You're right," she said. "I refuse to sit here and watch you run on a mental hamster wheel all night. You need some rest before tomorrow."
"Cal . . ." The protest trailed off. She put his arm around her shoulders.
"Come on, Horatio. We've got to get to the bedroom, unless you want to spend all night on the floor. Help me out here."
Their path down the hall was as crazy as some she'd walked with her father, but somehow they managed it, Calleigh with both arms around his chest, supporting him, and Horatio helping her as much as he could. They were almost to the bed when he totally collapsed, falling halfway across it. Calleigh pulled his feet up onto the bed, straightened him out, and undressed him, then got undressed herself and climbed in beside him. She pulled a warm blanket up over both of them, but it didn't thaw the chunk of ice in her chest. Horatio was still in shock tonight, and he hadn't followed the chain of conclusions all the way yet, but she had. If the timing of Marcella's murder was intentional, then the method was also intentional. Marcella's face had been totally destroyed specifically to remind Horatio of Rosalind, and the murderer had gone so far, even shaving her hair, in hopes that Horatio would work the case closely for a while before she was identified. Whoever they were after, he was deliberately playing with Horatio's mind, not only framing him for murder but trying to shatter his mental stability at the precise point where it was most fragile. Calleigh looked at Horatio's face again and tried to smooth out some of the lines of stress with her hand. They were still there. She kissed him gently, then switched out the light, but she stayed awake for a long time, nestled tightly against him, a watchful sentinel, and her voice was a fervent whispered plea into the darkness. "God help us."