Yelina was sitting at her dining room table when Horatio walked in. When she saw him, she ran to him and hugged him. He looked passed her at Adele who had remained at the table.
"Yelina, what happened?"
"He was studying for a test. I went out to get dinner and when I came back, he was gone." She clutched Horatio's shirt. "I've already lost his father. I can't lose him too."
There was something on the table. As Horatio tried to see what it was, Adele turned it over. "I think you should remove yourself from this case," she said.
"What aren't you telling me?"
Adele stared at him for a long moment, then turned the photograph face up. It was a Polaroid of Calleigh lying on Horatio's couch.
"Where did you get this?" he asked hoarsely.
"It was on Ray's bed."
"Dos Santos has him?" Horatio felt ill. For all he knew, Ray could already be dead. He sat down and leaned his elbows on the table.
"If it is Dos Santos. Horatio, he's not the only person with a grudge against you."
"It's him, Adele."
"You know who took him?" Yelina's voice rose with each word. "You know who has my baby?"
"I need to go back to the office. There may be something in the case file." He stood and searched his pockets for his car keys.
"I saw what he did to Calleigh. He's going to kill Ray, isn't he? Oh, God . . ." Yelina slid to the floor, her back against a wall. She pressed her hands to her face and sobbed.
"Not if I can help it," Horatio said.
* * *
Speed looked up from the sword when Horatio walked into the lab. He nodded to him, then continued dusting the hilt for prints. Horatio was about to ask if he'd found anything, then changed his mind. Speed would have volunteered the information if he had any. He let Speed get on with his business and headed for his office.
Hunched over his computer, he brought up every file relating to Dos Santos' case. He reread every single word, hoping for some kind of clue. After a while, the words began blurring together. He yawned and pinched the bridge of his nose, ignoring the headache that was building. When the phone rang, he reached for it without looking away from the screen.
"Caine."
"It's Alexx. She's out of surgery."
"I'll be right there."
Twenty minutes later, he strode into the waiting room of Mercy Hospital. Alexx rose to greet him. "They've taken her to ICU," she said.
"But she's okay?"
"She's still critical." Alexx lowered her eyes. "I'm going to be honest, it doesn't sound good. She lost a lot of blood. Dr. Ruben mentioned the possibility of damage to her brain. It was touch and go for a while but they managed to repair most of the damage. If she wakes up, it's going to be a long recovery."
Horatio nodded. If she wakes up, he thought. If, Alexx had said, not when. She had to wake up. If she didn't . . . he didn't want to go there. Calleigh would wake up. "Okay. Go home, Alexx. One of us might as well get some sleep tonight. What's left of it."
"Why don't you come with me? There's nothing you can do here."
He smiled. "I'd be a lousy houseguest. Thanks for staying here." He turned and approached the nurse's desk.
"I need to see a patient in ICU."
"I'm sorry, sir. Visiting hours ended at nine."
He showed her his badge, silently pleading with her. She sighed, bit her lip, then said, "Okay. But just for a minute."
"A minute's all I need."
Calleigh was attached to countless wires and monitors. Horatio was close enough to see her skin had taken on a pinkish color as opposed to the marble hue it had when he'd found her. He gently touched her cheek; she was warmer too. He bent to kiss her forehead.
"You scared me, Cal."
His response was the steady beep of her heart monitor and the rise and fall of her chest.
"Sir." The nurse hovered in the doorway, her arms folded.
As Horatio followed her out, his cell phone rang. It was Adele. "Dos Santos' parole officer finally got back to me. He says Dos Santos has been the model parolee for the past two months. Never missed an appointment, had a steady job, told him he was even going to church."
"Two months? I only found out today."
"You know it gets. Prisons are more concerned with the people still inside than the ones they've released. Anyway, I got Dos Santos' home address."
"What is it?"
Adele was silent. Horatio could sense her hesitance. Eventually she gave him the address and told him to meet her there.
* * *
"Pretty fancy for a parolee," Adele remarked as she and Horatio walked up the path to the front door. Dos Santos lived on the beachfront, his house a stone's throw from the ocean.
"He always did have expensive taste."
Adele knocked on the door. "Mr. Dos Santos, Miami Dade police. Please open up."
There was no answer. She and Horatio drew their weapons. She signaled to an officer behind her, who battered the door open. Horatio entered first. The house was dark. He took a flashlight from his pocket and shone it around.
In the living room, there were dozens of photographs scattered on the coffee table. "He's been a busy boy," Horatio said.
"No one's home," Adele called from another part of the house.
Horatio turned a lamp on so he could see the photographs better. "Adele, you'd better get in here."
There were photographs of Alexx, Speed, Delko. Working crime scenes. Doing their grocery shopping. Photos of Adele, Yelina, Ray. Calleigh. Horatio. Photos of all of them living their lives over the last two months.
"What is this?" Adele asked.
"He wanted to find my weakness. He was looking for someone to hurt." Horatio picked up a photograph of Calleigh, snapped as she sneaked out of Horatio's house with the sunrise. And he found one, he thought.