Mercy Hospital had one of the best surgical teams, Alexx assured Horatio. He sat in the waiting room, Calleigh's blood still on his hands, while he waited for the surgeon to come and tell him that she would be fine. He refused to contemplate the alternative.
He didn't know who had called them, but his entire team was waiting with him. Alexx had arrived first, followed by Delko, then Speed. Even Megan had called.
The doors to the operating room swung open and a nurse came out bearing the sword. She headed towards the group, holding it out in front of her as if she was afraid of it. "Uh, Dr. Ruben said you wanted this."
"How is she?" Horatio asked.
The nurse shrugged. "It's too early to say. Dr. Ruben will let you know as soon as they're done."
Horatio slumped in his seat. No news is good news, he told himself, and tried as hard as he could to believe it.
"So, uh, do you want this, then?"
Speed stood. "I'll take it. Do you have a pair of gloves for me?"
"Sure. This way."
He followed the nurse away. Alexx put her hand on Horatio's arm.
"She'll be okay," she said.
Horatio shook his head. "You weren't there, Alexx." If he closed his eyes, he could still see Calleigh lying pinned to the couch. He buried his face in his hands. Right now he didn't care about being strong or taking charge, and he didn't care how much he was revealing to his co-workers.
Calleigh needs you to be strong a voice whispered in his head.
He had to pull himself together. He looked up. "Delko, I need you to go over to Calleigh's house. Treat it like a crime scene."
He heard footsteps. Thinking it was the surgeon, he turned around. "Adele. Hagen."
"How's she doing?" Adele asked sympathetically.
"I don't know."
"Horatio, we need to get your statement," Hagen said.
"Can't it wait?"
"What did you do today?"
Horatio frowned. "You make it sound like I'm a suspect."
"John." Adele glared at Hagen. Her expression softened as she looked back at Horatio. "We didn't come for a statement. We came to see how she was."
Horatio managed to smile. "Thanks. Did you speak to my neighbors?"
"No one saw anything. But one of Calleigh's neighbors saw a 'strange Latino fellow' knock on her door. She thought he was a delivery man so she didn't say anything."
"A strange Latino fellow," Horatio echoed. He couldn't think of anyone who would want to hurt Calleigh . . . but there were plenty of people who might want to hurt him. Thoughts started clicking into place in his head; the facts he had so far falling into line. And then, everything made sense: Dos Santos hated him. Dos Santos was Latino. Dos Santos collected antique swords.
Dos Santos had tried to kill Calleigh.
Horatio went cold all over. He looked at Adele. "It's Carlo dos Santos."
Adele nodded. "I remember him. He's in prison, though."
"Not anymore. He got paroled."
"We'll check it out," Adele said. "In the mean time, you need to get some rest."
* * *
It was his fault, Horatio thought as he unlocked his front door. Calleigh had been hurt because someone had a grudge against him.
He found himself in the living room, staring down at his couch. Blood still pooled on the seat.
"What are you doing here?"
He turned to see Speed looking at him in concern. "I live here."
The younger man hung his head and sighed. "It's a crime scene." Horatio could see he hated saying it.
"I know. I thought you went back to the lab."
"I did. Then I came here. I didn't want you to have to process this."
Horatio fell silent. There didn't seem to be anything else to say. He looked at the couch again. He'd kissed Calleigh on that couch.
"Look, uh, you want to crash at my place? I need to drop this stuff off at the lab—"
"No. I need to be doing something. But thanks."
Speed picked up his kit and moved towards the door. As he passed Horatio, he said, "We'll find him."
Horatio nodded.
"H. I know you were worried about her this morning but there was nothing you could have done. You're not Superman."
Horatio didn't reply. Speed sighed and slowly walked away. "I'll finish up here later."
Horatio heard the door swing closed behind him. He looked around the living room, then his gaze was drawn back to the couch.
He wanted to burn it.
'You'll be sorry,' Dos Santos had said as the bailiff had led him away. 'You'll regret this.' And Horatio had smiled and told him to enjoy prison.
Dos Santos was wrong. He didn't regret testifying. Now it was Dos Santos who would be sorry.
Horatio's cell phone rang, pulling him from his thoughts. "Caine," he answered.
"Horatio, thank God. He's gone. He's gone."
"Yelina?" She was crying too hard for him to make sense of her words. "Who's gone?"
"Ray."