Adele took the photo of Calleigh from Horatio. "We need to talk."
"You want to know if Calleigh and I are involved?"
Adele nodded. "Are you?"
"It's not important."
"It is if that's why he hurt her." She let the photo fall from her hand to join the rest.
He knew Adele was right. Dos Santos knew the only way to hurt Horatio was through the people he cared about. He sighed. "Calleigh and I . . . it's complicated. I'd rather not discuss it. We need to find Ray."
He looked around the room as if he expected Ray to step out from behind one of the curtains.
"Horatio, he's not going to stop with Ray."
"Which is why we need to find him."
"Then let me do my job. You're running on empty and you're not going to be of use to anyone if you drop dead of exhaustion."
Horatio ran his fingers through his hair. As he opened his mouth to tell Adele he was fine, a yawn betrayed him. He nodded in defeat. "Okay. Will you arrange a guard for Calleigh, in case he tries again?"
"Sure."
He turned to go, his shoulders sagging. He felt he'd aged ten years in one night.
"H. I'll call the minute I find anything. Good or bad."
* * *
On the way back to the hospital, Horatio stopped to see how Yelina was doing. He was surprised to find Hagen there, looking quite at home in the kitchen.
"Did you find that bastard yet?" Yelina asked.
Horatio shook his head. "He wasn't in. How are you doing?"
She laughed hysterically. "Fine, just fine. Some psycho's got my baby and you want to know how I'm doing!"
She stopped pacing and leaned against the counter, hiding her eyes behind her hand. After a while, she looked up. "I'm sorry. How's Calleigh?"
"Still critical." He couldn't look at his sister-in-law. Whether she blamed him or not, he felt guilty. Seeing her like this—distraught, in pain—was too much for him.
Hagen was surprisingly sympathetic. "I'll stay with her. Why don't you go be with Calleigh?"
Horatio studied the two of them. Hagen's arm was protectively around Yelina and she had softened against him. He wondered why he hadn't noticed it before; they were very comfortable together.
"Okay," he said. Knowing Yelina wouldn't be alone did something to ease his conscience about returning to Calleigh. Uncertain that they'd even heard him, he let himself out.
* * *
There was a different nurse on duty. She took one look at Horatio and gave him no trouble. She even found a cushion for his chair. He smiled and thanked her; it was encouraging to know that there was still good in the world.
Calleigh was exactly as he'd left her. Horatio pulled the chair closer to the bed and covered her hand with his. He didn't intend to stay long, but once he sat down, he couldn't move. He fell asleep in the chair, the sounds of the monitors a strange lullaby.
* * *
Ray couldn't see and he couldn't move, but he knew he was on a boat. He could hear the water splashing against the sides and he felt the constant and gentle rock. Time had ceased to hold any meaning and after a while, Ray admitted he was very frightened.
He tried to imagine how his dad or Uncle Horatio would act if this was happening to them. He was sure they'd be brave, so he tried his best to be brave too.
But he was still young enough to want his mother.
Then he realized that the man might have kidnapped his mother too. No, he banished the thought instantly. His mother was a cop, she had a gun, and she wouldn't have let some guy kidnap her.
He'd seen this movie once, where these guys kidnapped a girl because her father was really rich. Ray didn't know why anyone would want to kidnap him. His family certainly wasn't rich.
Maybe, he thought, it was like that other movie he'd seen, where this cop's kid was kidnapped because the bad guys wanted their boss released from prison.
If he pretended he was just in a movie, it wasn't so scary. Not at all. In fact, it was an adventure. He felt a bit better, and then his kidnapper returned.
"Raymond Junior," the man said. "How sweet. How . . . pathetic."
He heard footsteps, and guessed the man was pacing.
"I bet you're waiting for your uncle to come in and save the day, right? I hate to break it to you, kid, but that's not going to happen. I hope you know it's nothing personal. I like kids, really, and if you were anyone else's nephew . . ."
It didn't feel like a movie anymore, and the fear returned.
The man laughed. "He couldn't even save that pretty girlfriend of his. I had nothing against her either. And I got nothing against your mom. Bet you'd like to see her, huh?"
There was a sound Ray recognized as a Polaroid camera. His friend Mike had one, and they'd spent an entire afternoon last summer pretending they were CSIs. Ray had played the dead body, and Mike had taken pictures. It occurred to Ray that he might very soon be a real dead body. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears burning behind the lids.
His dad wouldn't cry, Uncle Horatio wouldn't cry, so neither would Ray. He would be strong and brave and make his mother proud.
The man was wrong. His uncle would find him. Then the man would go to jail and everything would be okay again.