Notes and disclaimers in part one
Circle Unbroken
Part 2
He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the early morning sunlight coming in through the windows, bringing one hand up to rub at his eyes in an effort to clear away the cobwebs. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was, a couple more after that to remember what had brought him there, and when that happened, he turned his head to the side, expecting to see her lying there asleep, or wide awake, staring up at the ceiling.
Instead he saw an empty pillow, an empty space where she should have been lying.
He frowned, but realised that he shouldn't really have been surprised; after all, she'd tossed and turned for most of the night, as had he, worried about her. They'd lain side by side, not touching, unusual for a couple who usually slept wrapped in one another's arms, limbs and bodies intertwined. "Calleigh?" he called as he threw the covers off him, padding from the bedroom down the hall to the living room, expecting to be met by her voice calling to him, but meeting only silence. The couch was empty, as was the window seat, and a vague suspicion entered his mind, confirmed when he entered the kitchen, saw a piece of paper folded over and propped up against the coffee machine, which was already filled with coffee. His name was written on one side in familiar flowing script, and he didn't want to read it, didn't want to see what she'd written, but knew that he had to.
The note, as it happened, was short and to the point, two words. "I'm sorry."
He might have stared at it for hours, but in reality it was only seconds before the hand holding the note dropped to his side, his other rising to run through his hair. "Calleigh…" he whispered to himself, shaking his head, wondering why she'd done this, wondered why she hadn't been able to let him in, why she hadn't felt like she could talk to him. She'd been quiet the night before, but he'd taken that as shock, and she hadn't mentioned any arrangements to him, shaking her head in confusion when he'd asked her when she was going home, if she knew when the funeral would be held. He hadn't pressed her, had told her that everything would wait until the morning, and he'd convinced her to go to bed, sleep being as elusive for both of them as any criminal they'd ever tracked down. He could only have dropped off a couple of hours ago, but it had still been enough time for her to leave without waking him, and the thought came to him that she must have been packed already, because he knew for sure that he never would have slept through that, not the way that Calleigh packed for a trip.
Which meant that she must have had the flight booked yesterday.
Which meant that she'd lied to him.
He didn't want to dwell on that too much, didn't want to know what that might mean for them. All he wanted was to be with her, to support her, because he knew that she hadn't been home in all the time he'd known her, knew from little hints she'd dropped over the years, and last night especially, that there was a story there, something she wasn't telling him. He'd seen in her eyes that she was scared of going home, and his heart had ached for her.
It ached for her now, and in that split second, he made his decision, checking the clock as he reached for the phone. Punching in a number he knew by heart, he prayed that she'd pick up quickly, sending thanks to a God he wasn't sure he believed in when she did. "Sevilla," came the voice.
"Adele, it's Speed."
"Hey." If she was surprised to hear from him, she didn't sound it, continuing quickly, "How's Calleigh?"
"Gone," he answered simply, cutting back a rant about damnable Southern pride, because they probably didn't have time for it right now.
"What?" The normally unflappable Sevilla's voice rose sharply. "What do you mean she's gone?"
"I mean she sneaked out of here some time this morning without telling me…she's probably halfway to Darnell by now…however the hell you get there…"
Sevilla cut across him, cutting right to the chase. "Look, I'm still at work. I'll check the airlines, see what flight she's on. You get yourself to the airport, I'll call when I have news."
He sighed. "Yeah, that's what I hoped you'd say. Listen if you see Horatio-"
Once more, Sevilla interrupted him. "Hang on Speed, he's right here."
Tim winced, because he didn't really want to talk to Horatio right then. While his relationship with Calleigh was an open secret around the lab, it wasn't something that they advertised. Eric had been known to tease them about it, Alexx thought that it was sweet, and the only thing that Horatio had said about it had been purely hypothetical, back when they were just starting to see one another and people were talking about them. "Personally, I wouldn't care if two of my CSIs were seeing one another," he'd said, looking at the file in his hand, his tone casual. "Of course, officially, it'd be frowned upon by me… fraternisation and all that…you know how these things go." He'd said no more than that, but it hadn't been hard to read between the lines, and though Horatio knew what was going on, he'd never commented on it one way or another. Until today.
"Speed," he said tersely. "Delko told me about Calleigh's father. Is she ok?"
Tim rolled his eyes, safe in the knowledge that Horatio wouldn't know. "Not really," he replied simply. "Look, we're both-"
"Your cases have been reassigned, you're both down on compassionate leave, indefinitely. Make sure Calleigh knows that we're all thinking of her, and if she needs anything, she knows where we are."
Not having expected that, Tim nodded. "Thanks H." The older man hung up the phone then, leaving Tim standing in the kitchen, staring at the phone for a second before realising that he'd better get a move on. He dressed quickly, thanking his lucky stars that he'd swung by his place on the way here the previous night, throwing a few things that he might need into a bag. He pulled out a clean pair of blue jeans and a plain white shirt, far more conservative than his usual look he knew, but he didn't know who he'd be meeting, so he felt that it was better to be on the safe side. That done, he headed straight for his bike, getting on the road to the airport.
He was on his way into the terminal when his cell phone rang, Sevilla on the other end. "Speed, Calleigh caught Delta Flight 567 to Shreveport at 6.45 this morning. She's going to change planes in Atlanta, and expected landing time is 12.05pm."
Tim checked his watch; a couple of minutes before seven. "Shit," he exclaimed softly. "Just missed her."
"Don't panic," Sevilla hastened to reassure him. "I work miracles in my spare time. You're on American Airlines 831, leaving at 7.30, change of planes in Dallas Fort Worth, arriving in Shreveport at approximately 12.52pm. You can pay when you pick up your tickets; make sure you show your badge, I had to tell them it was police business to squeeze you in." Tim chuckled, the resourcefulness of the woman never ceasing to amaze him. "When I hang up this call, I'm calling the airport in Shreveport, there'll be a car waiting for you when you get there, and you can drive to Darnell. After that, it's up to you."
Tim breathed a sigh of relief. "Adele, I owe you one."
This time, it was Sevilla's turn to chuckle. "Just take care of her Tim. We'll call it even."
"Done," Tim said, hanging up the phone.
He managed to pick up his tickets and make it to the gate in record time, and it began to feel as if it was his lucky day when the flight actually took off on time, and made good time from Miami to Dallas. His luck held on the changeover, and when he got off the plane in Shreveport, it was one o'clock on the button. Sevilla was as good as her word, a car waiting for him, and finding a map in the glove box, he figured out where he was, where he was going, and off he went.
One hundred and forty odd miles later, he was driving in silence, having turned off the radio when he'd heard all the country music he could stand. It was actually working out better for him, because he was able to concentrate on his surroundings now that he wasn't contemplating ripping the damn thing out of the dashboard and throwing it out the window, thus he was able to see first hand the trappings of the city melt away, to be replaced by rolling green fields. The city of Monroe was a welcome return to familiarity, but beyond that the landscape became even more rural, and by the time he saw the sign welcoming him to Darnell, he was amazed that his Calleigh, someone who had always struck him as a big city girl, had come from a place like this.
He found what looked like the main street of the town easily enough, found a parking space and got out, looking around him. People were walking by, going about their business, the shops on either side of the road still doing business. He realised, not for the first time, that he didn't have a clue where to go or where Calleigh might be, and he was just trying to figure out what to do about that when inspiration struck in the form of a song that his grandmother used to sing when he was a child. It was something to do with wanting to know the time and asking a policeman, and he only hoped that it held true when it came to wanting to know where someone's home was.
He hastened to catch up to the tall man in the uniform, calling out, "Excuse me Officer-"
The other man turned, looked him up and down, and a friendly smile appeared, white teeth a stark contrast against his dark skin. "It's Deputy actually," he said, his accent like Calleigh's but more pronounced. "How may I help you Sir?" He may have been smiling, but his eyes were narrowed, suspicious, and his tone was cordial, but no more than that.
"I'm looking for a friend of mine," Tim told him, opening his wallet, extracting a picture. It showed him and Calleigh, arms around one another, laughing, the very picture of a happy couple. Eric had taken it one night they were all out together, celebrating the ending of some long arduous case; it had been one of the first times that they'd been out in public as a couple. "She's from here, and I'm pretty sure she's back in town. Calleigh Duquesne?"
"Don't reckon I know any-" The man's face only cleared when he took the photo from Tim, studying it closely. "Oh, Calleigh!" he said then, face lighting up in a real smile. "Man, all the times I've used that name, you think I'd be used to it by now." He grinned down at the picture, then back at Tim, serious again. "She's in town you say?"
Tim nodded. "She came up earlier today…I was trying to figure-"
The deputy was already moving away. "Well, she's not gonna be staying at the family place, that's for sure. She's probably at Violet's, that's the hotel…come on, I'll take you there. Be good to see that girl again." He stopped when he realised that Tim wasn't following him. "I'm sorry…look at my manners. I'm Mike Fletcher. Calleigh and I go way back."
He held out his hand and Tim took it. "Tim Speedle," he said. "Nice to meet you."
"You too," Mike replied, and the two men fell into step beside one another. "Though I will say I wish you were here under better circumstances. A terrible thing this."
His frown, his obvious concern brought it home to Tim that in her silence, in her shock last night, Calleigh had never told him how exactly her father had died. "Yeah-" he began, hoping to ask Mike that question, but before he could, Mike had stopped on the corner, waving to a building across the street.
"Here we are," he said, looking right and left, leading Tim towards a large white building the sign "Darnell Arms" hanging above its door. "Darnell's finest," he quipped as they entered.
Used to the opulence of hotels in Miami, Tim looked around him, finding the place clean and serviceable certainly, but undeniably quaint. A small counter stood to the left, chairs arranged around tables in the lobby, and across the way, another, larger room, with more tables and chairs, and an empty fireplace. Behind the desk was a woman who looked to be about seventy, her grey hair pulled back in a tight bun, her navy blue business suit draping impeccably on her slender frame. She stared at Mike, then at Tim, as if the two of them were gangsters about to rob the place, and Tim felt ridiculously as if he'd just walked into the local library with a book that was two months overdue.
"Deputy," she drawled, and for all her stern demeanour, her voice was smooth as honey. "How may I help you?"
"This gentleman's a friend of a friend Violet," Mike told her, indicating Tim with a wave of his hand. "Calleigh Hayes." The strange name had Tim looking at him sharply, but Violet was nodding in recognition. "She been here?"
"Child came in here about an hour ago," Violet replied with a sniff of pity. "Looked as if she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards, let me tell you. Asking if I had room for her. As if I'd turn that poor child away in her hour of need."
Tim wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but Mike beat him to it. "Which room?" he asked, glancing towards the stairs, but Violet shook her head.
"Won't do you any good Deputy, she's not there. Barrelled out of here about twenty minutes ago. Said something about going by the house." The soft exclamation that came from Mike's lips had her gasping in surprise. "Deputy! Such language!"
"Sorry Violet," he said dutifully, barely glancing at her as he turned to Tim. "We'd better go." Once again, Tim found himself trotting behind the taller man, who led him to a police car, opening the passenger door for him. "We'll take this," he said to Tim. "It'll be quicker."
To say that Tim was confused over this turn of events would be an understatement. "So, Calleigh going to her family's home is a bad thing?" he asked, and Mike shook his head. "Well, first of all, she's not gonna get into the main house. Crime scene boys from Monroe only finished up there early this morning." Tim's head whipped around sharply at the mention of the words "crime scene" but intent as he was on the road, Mike didn't notice. "The other boys I know aren't there right now, which means that the only welcome she's likely to get is from Joshua. That's the youngest. And she's not gonna get any kind of welcome from him." A bitter chuckle emerged from his throat. "He's his daddy's boy, in more than just looks."
Tim frowned. "How so?"
Mike took his eyes off the road for long enough to level a hard stare at Tim. "I take it Tim, that from that picture you showed me, you and Calleigh are more than just friends?"
"We're involved," was all Tim would say.
"Right. But I'm gonna bet that she's not told you much about her life here?" Mike's voice was a cross between amusement and concern, and Tim found himself giving him an honest answer.
"That'd be a safe bet."
Mike chuckled. "I figured." He shook his head, letting out a long breath. "Calleigh's daddy was the sheriff around here for about a hundred years, up until about ten years ago. He pretty much ran the place, thought he could do whatever he liked, and for a long time, he was right. People turned a blind eye to the fact that he gave his buddies preferential treatment, that he was a mite too fond of alcohol. What they eventually stopped turning a blind eye to was that he had a special problem when it came to African-Americans." He chuckled again. "Man, did he ever spit fire when I got this job...he's hated me ever since I was eighteen years old and he was threatening to run me out of town for defiling his little girl. Guy was a real mean son-of-a-bitch, with a nasty temper…" Mike's voice trailed off, lost in memory.
There were so many questions running through Tim's mind, but he concentrated on the most important one. "And Joshua is-?"
"Not gonna give Calleigh the welcome home she deserves, that's for sure," was Mike's terse assessment. "The Duquesne boys were wild, we always knew that. What else could they be growing up in a house like that? Calleigh practically raised them, as well as herself. But Joshua, he was only nine when she left for college, and the other three were more into looking out for themselves…" He pursed his lips in disgust. "Calleigh was too good for that house, plain and simple. Left home for college when she was eighteen and didn't ever look back, Can't say as I blame her either." He chuckled suddenly, teeth flashing white as something occurred to him. "Always knew she'd do well for herself…man, you should've known her back then…nothing ever got to her. She was completely fearless."
Thinking of the Calleigh that he'd seen every day in Miami over the last few years, Speed had to smile himself. "Still is," he murmured, looking out the window at the countryside rushing past. They were getting further and further away from town, and a knot of tension made itself known in Tim's stomach, getting tighter with each passing second. "I never knew any of this," he admitted quietly, and Mike shrugged.
"You were never meant to," he said calmly, more calmly than Tim would have thought possible considering the circumstances. "Girl left town, changed her name, did everything she could to leave this place behind her."
"But the past has a way of catching up with you," Tim murmured, as Mike swung off the road, pulling in to a driveway on the left. The first thing that Tim could see was a small wooden building, more of a shack than a house, on the right hand side, looking as if it was mere months away from falling apart, but bearing all the hallmarks of habitation. Right in front of them was a larger house, obviously the family home, not nearly as dilapidated as the shack, but not as neat as a pin as he would have expected either. There were steps leading up to the front porch, and at the top of them, his heart leaping at the sight, was Calleigh, standing and gesturing wildly in front of a man who was the image of the man who Tim had seen in Calleigh's photo the previous night.
Her back was to the road, and she didn't turn when they pulled up, nor when they stepped out. If the man with her, who Tim presumed was Joshua, noticed them, he didn't give any indication of it either. What he did do though was grab Calleigh's elbow, fairly propelling her down the stairs, giving her no chance to balance herself, though she was doing plenty of protesting. When she was on the bottom step, Joshua on the second from last, he gave her one last shove, sending her flying, ending up with her crashing hard on the ground. She stared up at him, not saying a word, and he climbed up the stairs, turning when he reached the front door. "Don't come here again," he said coldly, slamming the door behind him.
Tim barely heard Mike's muffled curse, standing rooted to his spot, unable to take his eyes away from Calleigh. He wanted to go to her, but he couldn't seem to make his feet move, and the only thought that was going through his mind was that if she hadn't wanted him to come here in the first place, then she definitely wouldn't want him to witness a moment like that. Mike didn't suffer from the same predicament though, going over to her, squatting down beside her, saying something to her that Tim couldn't hear. She might have said something back to Mike as he helped her up, but Mike did say something to her, looking over her shoulder, nodding his head towards Tim.
She turned slowly to look at him, and he found himself holding his breath, unsure of how she was going to react. Her face didn't change at first, she just stared at him as if she was having trouble believing that he was really there, and he found himself nodding at her, as if to reassure her. He saw her suck in a deep breath, then start to walk towards him. He stayed where he was, afraid that if he moved he would scare her somehow, upset her. Also, some little voice in the back of his mind was telling him that this had to come from Calleigh, that she had to do this herself.
So he stood still, barely breathing until she was standing right in front of him, just a step away. She stopped then, green eyes holding his, and he didn't blink, didn't flinch, just looked into her eyes. He only let himself breathe again when she closed the distance between them by leaping into his arms. He held her closely to him, arms tight around her, and closed his eyes as her head disappeared into the crook of his neck.
It was second before he realised that she was shaking, that she was whispering over and over again, "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"
"Hey," he told her, keeping his voice low, one hand running up and down her back, the other cupping the back of her head. "It's ok…it's gonna be ok."
Of course, he wasn't sure that it would be. He'd found out more about Calleigh in the last hour than he had in all the years he'd known her, and she evidently had more than enough family stuff to work through without dealing with him as well. But they were here, and they were together. That was a pretty good start.
