A/N: I'm not positive about the chemical reactions described herein. If anyone knows better, I'll gladly accept a lesson.
The effects of the poison are described accurately, however. The effects of Horatio on Calleigh are as well :)
I hope you enjoy this. I love writing it. Know what else I like? Feedback.
For disclaimers, rating, etc: see part 1.
Chapter 6: The effects of little things
The next morning Calleigh arrived early at the lab. When she entered the interrogation room where the team had unofficially set up camp as long as the rest of headquarters was a crime scene, she was surprised to find Eric and Speed already there.
"Hey guys," she said, depositing the large box she was carrying on the table next to a little worn coffee maker she didn't recognize. The small machine was in use, making a terrible racket but producing fresh coffee. "Who supplied the coffee maker?" she asked curiously.
"I did," Speed volunteered, "Figured we might need it."
"You should have known from the look of that thing. Falls apart while we're watching," Eric teased.
"Yeah?" Speed snapped back, "You don't have to use it, you know? Just don't come begging for a boost."
Quickly, Calleigh opened the lid of the cardboard box she had brought. The sight of pastries and donuts shut her two quarreling colleagues up in an instant.
"Oh man, Cal, you're the best," Speed assured her and helped himself to some fancy cakes.
She gave him a smile and offered the collection to Eric.
Like any ordinary morning, Calleigh thought as she watched her friends. Except for the fact that their seemingly good-natured repartees had a sharp edge to them today, as if both needed to release more than a fair share of tension. Except for the fact that an interrogation room had to serve as a makeshift assembly room. And except for the fact that nothing would make her touch any coffee in the near future.
The fact that both Eric and Speed had arrived before her told volumes as well. She had spent a troubled night, tossing and turning in her bed, only getting a few short hours of restless sleep. And even those had been sprinkled with unpleasant dream images. When she had woken up for the third time and realized it was already beginning to dawn she had decided to forego all attempts at sleeping and get a head start on their case instead. The dark shadows under her friends' eyes and their unusual early arrival confirmed that their experiences tonight had not differed much from hers.
We can pretend all we like, she thought, with coffee and donuts and a few snappy remarks. We're not fooling anyone. We're hurt, and it shows.
"So," Eric was saying, sounding way too matter-of-factly, "what was up with you and H during that phone call yesterday?"
Calleigh had expected that question. "We had an argument," she informed him.
"Yeah, we figured as much," was the dry response.
She sighed. "You know what he's like. He went to see the family of the man who died and I told him I wouldn't let him do that alone. Naturally, he didn't agree," she concluded.
"So did you go with him?"
"In the end I managed to convince him."
"How is Taylor's wife?" Speed wanted to know.
Calleigh shook her head. "What do you expect? Horatio was great, though, promising her we'd find the culprit. I think he really gave her some hope … speaking of him, I assume he's in already?"
"You bet. Was here before any of us checked in. Right now he's on the phone," Speed qualified with a lopsided grin, "verbally turning some IAB guys into minced meat."
"They want to poly everyone," Eric elaborated.
"Again?" Calleigh could not believe it.
Eric shrugged, "Just the night shift, for now. Whoever slipped that poison in the coffee pot – if that's what they did – was opting for quick damage. Alexx has confirmed that. She's come in early, too, with a temporary report. She's going to fill us in as soon as the final test results get here. This case is top priority, so that should be any minute."
"Maybe I better go and get Horatio, then," Calleigh ventured and left too quickly for any objections.
Eric turned to face Speed. "What's that all about now?"
Speed shrugged, reaching for another donut. "Damned if I know. The day I figure out either Calleigh or Horatio, they'll probably appoint me head of the crime lab."
Eric couldn't stifle a grin. "Man, for an achievement like that, they'd hand you the Nobel prize on a plate."
~*~
Calleigh knew it had been a feeble excuse, but she really wanted to speak to Horatio alone before he came in for the status reports of his teammates.
Last night, when he had dropped her off in front of her condo, there had been an awkward moment in the car when none of them had spoken. Finally, he had broken the silence.
"Take care," he had said, his voice low and a little ragged.
"You too," she had answered, turning to reach for the door handle. She had planned on thanking him for the ride, but had never gotten around to doing so. For suddenly, he had reached for her wrist and she had spun around again, startled.
She had never seen that look in his eyes. He had been concerned, yes, but there had been something else, something she had not been able to identify. She had never been less successful at reading his emotions. A shiver had run down her spine and her heart had missed a beat.
"Really, Calleigh," he had added, his voice barely a whisper, "I mean it. Take care of yourself."
"I will," she had assured him meekly, her gaze alternating between his eyes and his fingers around her arm. What else could she have said?
He had let go of her, and she had instantly felt deprived, though she could not have defined of what.
He had driven off only moments later, but the touch of his hand on hers had lingered.
Now, as Calleigh reached Horatio's office, she felt nervous. She had been right assuming he would retreat to this room for the call. She could sense his presence before she could hear his voice. Approaching the door, she could just make out what he was saying. His voice was calm, apparently in control, and he was speaking slowly. His words, on the other hand, stung like acid.
"No, you do still not understand what my point is. My point is, we have ample evidence on this assault. If you will just refrain from interfering with the investigation, we will solve this case as we have done countless times before. Polying a dozen innocent people will get you no closer to the one who might be guilty than bullying my team will get you closer to doing real police work."
Calleigh heard the receiver being slammed and decided to make an entry. Still, she hesitated briefly in the doorway. Horatio was standing behind his desk, watching the telephone with a cross look on his face, as if daring it to ring again. Looking up, he noticed her. His face lightened up ever so slightly.
"May I come in?" she enquired.
"You may."
"I heard you are harassing IAB officials again," she stated with a smile.
"Did Speed tell you that?"
"Not in so many words," she lied. Seeing right through her, he tilted his head as if trying to hide the smile of his own.
"About yesterday …" she began, and he instantly grew serious again, watching her intently.
"What about it?"
Calleigh braced herself. She had spent half of the night planning this encounter, and now she was not going to back off. Their emotional little scene in the car had shaken her composure and ruffled her confidence, and neither state was one she could use right now. "You scared me," she disclosed.
Horatio instantly looked down again, as if avoiding her eyes equaled avoiding her admission. "I'm sorry," he offered. Both knew it wasn't good enough. Calleigh just continued to stare him down, a technique she had seen him apply countless times. While he slowly made his way around the desk, his hand reached up to the collar of his shirt. Reaching for his sunglasses, Calleigh thought, bearing in mind how he wore them around his neck for quick access when he was working outdoors. Currently, she could see them placed safely on the desk. There would be no hiding for him now.
Or for her, she realized, as she owned up to the fact that he was suddenly standing right in front of her. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"Then what was your meaning?" She realized how nervous she sounded.
"When … ahm … when that call came, yesterday," he broke of briefly, raising his eyebrows at the empty space next to her right shoulder, "and they told me there had been an incident at CSI …" he paused again, this time a little longer, "I thought about you. And I was afraid."
Calleigh did not understand. "But …"
"I wasn't rational. I knew it wasn't you, that you would not be there. Still, it was the first thing that came to my mind."
"But why …"
"I care about you, Calleigh. In a lot of ways. And I don't want anything to happen to you. I was very shaken by what has happened. We all were. If I have overstepped any boundaries, I apologize."
Calleigh's head was spinning. In a lot of ways? Overstepping any boundaries? Well, he just had done exactly that hadn't he? In a lot of ways? Could he have been saying …?
She realized he held his hand extended towards her. Timidly, she reached out. His touch was light and warm and lacked the desperate urgency of last night's brief connection. His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand, caressing her skin for a few short seconds. Calleigh just stared down incredulously.
"Apology accepted?" he asked in a silky voice, trying to draw her eyes to his again.
"Apology accepted," she stated, and they let go of each other with a little handshake, as if that had been the intention behind that touch all along.
~*~
Eric and Speed had succeeded in considerably reducing the contents of the pastry box by the time the door opened again. Tripp entered and held the door ajar for Alexx, who pushed a transparent blackboard on wheels into the room.
"What, you're going to give a lesson?" Speed asked.
Alexx shot him an indecipherable glance. "And not one you're going to like. Where is Horatio?"
"I'm right here," Horatio said, entering with Calleigh in tow. The ballistics experts proceeded to sit down at the table without looking at anyone present. Not even Speed failed to notice that she looked slightly uneasy. About what, he could not have said. There was no time to discuss personal feelings, however, as Horatio had commenced the conference.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, what have we got?" He looked at every single member of his team, some standing, some sitting, everyone alert and focused. "Alexx? Do we have that tox screen?"
"Oh yes, Horatio, we do."
"Fill us in, please?"
Alexx got up, and Horatio sat down next to Calleigh. Uncapping a black felt pen, Alexx began to draw some molecules on the plastic board. With every atom she added to the chain, Horatio's look of incredulity deepened.
Finally, Alexx turned around and looked at the gathered team. "Tox screens have been done on the victims at the hospital as well as Evan Taylor. We did not know what we were looking for, so we checked everything as thoroughly as possible. And we found some substances that definitely qualify as out-of-place." She pointed to the molecule in the left. "That's N-2-carbamoylethylvaline. It has been shown to form from hemoglobin when acrylamide is added." She indicated the other molecule, a bicyclic substance. "N7-2-carbamoylethylguanine. As you can see, a derivative of guanine. Has been suspected to form when acrylamide is present."
"So what does that tell us?" Tripp asked, nonplussed.
"Hemoglobin is a component of blood, guanine is one of the building blocks of DNA," Speed filled him in. "So if we find substances that form when hemoglobin and guanine come into contact with acrylamide …"
"Alexx," Horatio growled, "Are you suggesting our victims have been poisoned with acrylamide?"
"Symptoms are consistent with acrylamide poisoning. As a neurotoxin, it affects the central nervous system, causing loss of orientation and coordination. The most obvious sign is peeling of hands and feet, and the victim will experience numbness in the lower limbs. Often the eyes are affected, too."
"What about long-term symptoms?" Eric asked.
It was Horatio who answered. "Brain damage," he stated darkly.
"If dosage has been high – yes," Alexx confirmed.
"Okay, I get it," Tripp said. "What about accessibility?"
"Easy," Speed explained, "We use it all the time for electrophoresis. Everyone here has access to large quantities of that stuff. Supply cupboards in the labs are packed with it. Also, it's not accounted for. It's used in large quantities, so I can't tell you if anything of it is missing."
"So that doesn't narrow it down."
"No."
Calleigh, who had been unusually silent during the presentation, suddenly spoke up. "But that's a mixture."
Horatio turned toward her. "What do you mean?"
"What we use for electrophoresis – that's not pure acrylamide. We run polyacrylamide gels during electrophoresis, and we use a mixture of bisacrylyamide and acrylamide for polymerization."
"But the stuff's still toxic," Tripp pointed out.
"Yes, but once Eric and Speed have processed the coffee maker for traces, we might be able to rule out our stock. If they only find pure acrylamide …"
Horatio instantly saw her point. "… that would mean it has not come from our labs …"
Calleigh jumped back in, "… which then in turn suggests an outside source."
Horatio got to his feet. "Good thinking, Calleigh. Eric, Speed, you heard her. I want everything processed for traces of acrylamide that has been in the vicinity of the coffee pot. Alexx – good work. Calleigh – we need to get over the victims' activities during that night again. I want a chronological account of everything they did, especially with regard to the coffee consumption. I want to know who had how much at what time. We need to figure out why we have such a variation in the severity of symptoms. Also, I want to know who touched that coffee maker first that night."
"And who was the last one to touch it before then."
Horatio simply nodded.
As the others slowly filed from the room, Calleigh dared to cast a look at him. He was the embodiment of professionalism, even with the fire in his eyes and the excitement visible beneath the surface of his controlled exterior. Seeing him like that, she wondered whether she had only imagined their encounter in his office earlier today, or his brief moment of unmasked emotion in the car last night. This was the Horatio Caine she knew, caring, alert, but always slightly at a distance.
Closing the door, he turned towards her. "Okay, let's get to work on that timeline," he said, and in passing briefly touched her shoulder. The gesture was innocent enough and two days ago, she wouldn't have thought anything of it. But from the way her skin tingled all the way down her spine and from the way he avoided her eyes as if frightened of his own courage, she knew.
She was not imagining things.
To be continued …
