"Martin should have got the part," a reed-thin blonde said, exhaling cigarette smoke. "He's a better actor."

"Yeah," her companion, a pretty girl with large doe eyes, chimed in. "Plus, he had better chemistry with Tanya. I don't know what possessed Brett to cast Adrian."

The blonde chuckled. "Sure you do."

Frank Tripp looked up from his notes. "What do you mean by that, Miss, uh?"

"Lea Stephens." The blonde jerked her hand in her friend's direction. "That's Maggie Ward. I'm Margaret and she's Ursula."

Tripp had no idea who Margaret and Ursula were, but he nodded anyway. "Okay, Miss Stephens. Now, what did you mean by your earlier comment?"

Lea smiled and took a drag on her cigarette. "Well, everybody knows Brett was gay."

There was a noise from the opposite side of the green room. Everyone turned to look at the flustered young man, pacing up and down. "This is awful!" he said. "Terrible! I hope my therapist has space for me tomorrow."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and collapsed dramatically into a chair.

Lea snickered. "Don't mind him. Etienne's always like that."

"Who is he?"

"Our stage manager," Margaret said. "He's pushy, but he's the best. He knows what he's doing."

Tripp nodded. "Right. So did you actually see the shooting?"

"No." Lea shook her head. "We aren't on straight after interval. We were in here."

"But Martin Gerber came through here?" Tripp checked his notes; that was what Claire Tremayne had said.

"Well, yeah. And he had the gun and everything." Lea stubbed out her cigarette. "But I thought it was just a prop. I thought he was just messing with Adrian, you know."

Margaret nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Marty's usually such a sweetheart. I don't know what would have made him snap."

"But you heard the shot?"

Lea shivered. "Yeah. We ran and locked ourselves in the dressing room. I've never been so scared in my life." She lit another cigarette.

"Okay. Thanks for your help, ladies."

Tripp stood and crossed to where Speed was talking to Claire Tremayne. She was clutching the arm of Doug Sinden, one of the male cast members.

"It's this place's worst kept secret that Adrian and Brett were, you know, an item," Claire said. "Everyone knows that's the only reason Adrian got the part. It should have gone to Doug." She rubbed her boyfriend's arm.

"Isn't it against university rules for a student to have an affair with a staff member?" Speed asked, a little surprised at how casual everyone was.

"Yeah, but technically Brett wasn't staff. He was here as some kind of favor, or something. The guy who was supposed to direct got offered a job in Prague and he left everyone in the lurch. Brett stepped in and started from scratch. New auditions, new cast, new play."

"Excuse me." It was Genevieve, still looking shaken. Speed added exhaustion to the list when he saw her eyes. "Have you seen Eric?"

"He's on stage, I think."

"Are the, uh, the bodies gone?"

Speed nodded and was glad to see some of the tension leave Genevieve's shoulders. She smiled and disappeared through the green room doors. Tanya sat next to Claire and lit a cigarette.

"Tell him about Adrian and Brett," Doug said.

Tanya rolled her eyes. "Not that I have anything against gays or anything—some of my best friends are gay." She chuckled. "But this was just creepy. Brett was, like, twenty-five years older than Adrian. And his last boyfriend had AIDS, so I don't know what Adrian was thinking when he got involved with him."

"That's just a rumor," Claire said. She looked at Speed and Tripp in turn. "Brett was a great director. And a great person. If Adrian made him happy—"

"Oh, come on, Claire! Brett was a prick."

"Okay." Speed intervened before the discussion could escalate into an argument. Fortunately, Genevieve chose that moment to return.

"Let's go home, Tanya."

Tanya turned to smile at Speed. "I'm talking to the detective."

"Tanya, I'm not in the mood for this. Let's go."

"But—"

"Tanya, I'm tired. I'm upset. I just want to go home and sleep. If you really want to see Tim again, I'll ask Eric to hook you up."

Tanya blushed, then stalked off to her dressing room. Speed chuckled.

"Thanks, Gen."

"Sorry. Don't worry, I'm not really going to ask him."

Tanya returned from the dressing room with a bag slung over her shoulder. Her cheeks were still red and she didn't look at Speed.

"You guys going to be okay to get home?" he asked.

"We'll be fine. Thanks, Tim." Genevieve took her sister's arm and they left through the stage doors.

Speed looked at Tripp. "I guess we're done in here."

They went back out to the stage. Calleigh stood center stage talking to Horatio, a smile on her face. In her gloved hands she held a 9mm. Beretta.

"The assistant stage manager found it on the floor in the parking lot. I'm pretty sure it's the murder weapon, but I'll run tests anyway."

"Well, it's late now. You can do that in the morning," Horatio said. He turned to Speed and Tripp. "You two done?"

"Yes."

"Great. Let's go home. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

The team headed up the stairs, stopping when an exceptionally tall man appeared at the top. "What the hell is going on here?"

"There was a shooting," Horatio said calmly.

"Yes, I know that. What's this rubbish I hear about you wanting to arrest my actor?"

"Who are you?"

"Conrad Dobbs, from the university's performing arts administration. I run this theatre."

"Well, Mr. Dobbs, I'm Lieutenant Caine. Do you know you're trespassing on a crime scene?"

"A crime scene!" Conrad Dobbs threw up his hands in disbelief. "This is a theatre, not a crime scene. Where's that Gerber boy? We need to sort all this out."

"That 'Gerber boy' is currently a fugitive from the law."

Conrad Dobbs gaped at Horatio. "You're making it sound much worse than it really is, I'm sure."

"Martin Gerber killed two people. It doesn't get much worse, Mr. Dobbs."

"Well, you can't arrest him. He's the understudy. Without him, the show can't go on."

Horatio kept his voice low, a layer of contempt simmering just below the surface. "Do the lives of two people mean absolutely nothing to you? The show will not go on until this case is closed."

"Do you have any idea how much it costs to run this theatre? You can't expect me to keep it closed. People have bought tickets for tomorrow's show—"

"Mr. Dobbs! Do you want to be arrested for obstructing justice?"

Conrad Dobbs stared at Horatio for a few seconds, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. He spun on his heel and walked out.

Horatio shook his head. "Some people are unbelievable."

"You put him in his place, though." Calleigh chuckled. When they got to the Hummer, she dropped her voice so only he would hear her. "If you take me home, I'll make it worth your while."

A smile played on Horatio's lips; how could he refuse an offer like that? "We need to get this back to the lab first."

* * *

"Now this is the kind of thing I had in mind for this evening." Horatio gave a contented sigh and closed his eyes.

Calleigh grinned and continued kneading his back. Life couldn't get much better, she thought. Coming home from work with the man she loved, knowing she would wake up in his arms the next morning . . . she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Mmm . . . you're an angel, Cal. This is great."

"Only the best for you."

He laughed. Calleigh could feel the vibrations in his back and smoothed her hands across his skin. She was filled with a sudden warmth and joy; he was hers and she could look at him and touch him whenever she liked. It still felt so new and she decided she could never get tired of it.

"Would you think less of me if I told you I just wanted to hold you tonight?"

She chuckled. "Of course not. Never."

"Good." He tipped her off his back and rolled over, then pulled her towards him. He slid his leg over her to keep her in place, as if she had any intention of moving. "Goodnight, Cal."

"'Night." She snuggled closer to him, lulled to sleep by his heartbeat.