Disclaimer - I don't own any of the CSI characters, including Tim Speedle,
sigh, but hey, a girl can dream, can't she? I do however, own Leanna and
Nicholas. They are part of my master plan to create a life for Timmy
outside the office.
Pairings - Tim and his lovely wife Leanna, Horatio & Calleigh, Eric & Valera
Rating – PG for now
Summary – Two prominent physicians are murdered in their Coconut Grove home. All clues point back to the couple's daughter, who is hiding more than one devastating secret.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*
Tim and Horatio entered the interrogation room and faced Michelle Johansson. Her highlighted brown hair hung limp around her tear-streaked face. She looked, in a word, exhausted. Horatio sat down beside Michelle, on the same side of the table. Tim hung back in the doorframe, observing.
"Michelle," Horatio began quietly, "My name is Lieutenant Horatio Caine."
Michelle's blue eyes went wide as she recognized Horatio's last name. "Caine," she said, "You're the one who has my daughter."
Horatio nodded. "Actually, it's my wife, Calleigh. Mikayla is in very good hands."
"I want to see her," Michelle demanded, looking Horatio squarely in the eyes.
"In good time, Michelle," he answered. "In the meantime, Detective Speedle and I have a few questions for you."
She sank back in her seat and nodded weakly. "I heard about my parents, that's why I came back," she explained.
Horatio saw through the obvious lie. Michelle fiddled nervously with the Kleenex in her hands, unconsciously ripping the material to shreds. "How?" he asked, "How did you find out?"
She shrugged and wound the Kleenex around her fingers. "CNN," she answered with a shrug.
Horatio glanced at Tim, who shook his head discreetly. Eric had been monitoring the news and no reports on the Johanssons' murders had been featured on the national news. Horatio returned his attention to the young woman sitting beside him. "I'm afraid that's not possible, Michelle," he said gently.
"How dare you?" Michelle asked angrily. "I have done nothing but cooperate, you stole my child from me, and now I'm lying?"
"I appreciate your cooperation, Michelle, but your parents' murder has not been on CNN, and as for your child being stolen from you," Horatio cast a hard glare at her, "you left her with your parents, who were murdered, and Social Services took over. It's standard procedure."
"You call it whatever you want, Lieutenant," she said coldly, ignoring his comment about CNN. "I'm here now, and I want my daughter back."
Tim took over, sliding Eric's DNA analyses in front of her. "Do you know what this is, Michelle?"
The teenager glanced at the papers and shook her head. "DNA analyses, on you, Mikayla and your parents," he explained, not missing Michelle's hard swallow. "We were hoping you could explain something for us. According to this report, Mikayla's father is, well, your father."
Michelle shifted uncomfortably in her chair and swiped the shredded Kleenex over her bloodshot eyes. "So, you already know," she said.
"Yeah, we already know," Tim scowled, "and no offense, but it makes you the primary suspect."
She nodded weakly and took another look at the sheets. "I guess I can understand that," she answered.
"Michelle," Horatio began, "I don't want to take you away from your daughter for life without parole, but I need your help. Tell me what happened."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Lieutenant," she said incredulously. "I didn't kill my parents."
"I think you're lying again, don't you think she's lying, Speed?"
"Absolutely," the younger man responded. "See, the maid and your boyfriend, Chris Dougan, both told us they saw you the day of the murders."
"They're lying," she stated, her steely eyes drilling a hole through Tim.
"They're lying," he repeated sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"Yes," she answered plainly. "Look, I don't know who killed my parents, but I can assure you, it wasn't me. My parents and Mikayla were all I had left in the world."
"That doesn't mean you didn't kill them," Tim stated coldly.
"We have no other family. My grandparents are all dead, both my parents were only children and my twin sister, Lauren..."
"Died in a car accident, we know," Tim replied unsympathetically, settling into his 'bad cop' role. "What do you think we've been doing for two days, Michelle? Just sitting around, waiting for you to show up at the scene of the crime?"
Eric knocked on the window and Tim stepped outside, leaving Horatio in with Michelle. "Found a motel key in her rental car," Eric explained, handing Tim a sheet of paper. "Traced it back to the Beach Shores motel. Hagen showed the desk clerk a picture of Michelle – woman recognized her immediately. She registered under the name of Lauren Bartley."
"Not very creative, using the mother and sister's names," Tim said with a frown, "How long has she been there?"
"Since the day after she left for Cabo," Eric said. "She must have gotten on that plane, checked into the hotel there, and took another plane right back."
"Building the perfect alibi," Tim shook his head. "Or so she thought, she's already made two mistakes."
Eric nodded. "The maid and the boyfriend. I'm checking the car for the gun, and graveyard's going through the motel room with a fine-tooth comb. If she's made another mistake, we'll find it."
"Thanks, man," Tim said appreciatively. "By the way, there's pizza in the break room. We were having dinner when we got called back in."
He stepped back into the interrogation room and handed Horatio the report. "Michelle, we found your room key for the Beach Shores motel. You care to explain that?" Tim asked.
Michelle shook her head and sneered. "I'm not explaining anything to you, Detective. Not without my lawyer."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*
Horatio tossed his keys on the kitchen counter hours later, quietly padding upstairs to his bedroom. He gently pushed the door open, startled for only a second by the sound of two people breathing in the room. He crossed over to the bathroom, opening the door just enough to flip on the light, providing a tiny sliver of light throughout the room.
Calleigh was sleeping on her side, her blonde hair cascading across her navy blue pillow. Mikayla was tucked in securely beside her and Calleigh had set Horatio's pillows along the other edge of the bed, preventing the baby from rolling off.
Calleigh inhaled sharply, and Horatio cursed himself for flipping on the light and waking her. "Hi," she mumbled.
"Hi," he answered, removing his slacks and shirt, then sliding into his cotton pajama pants. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's okay," she drawled, rubbing her eyes and glancing down to check on Mikayla. "How's Michelle?"
"We've found her motel room, proof that she was in Miami the day of the murder, basically, everything but the gun," he explained, "And we've got every available uniform searching every dumpster, trash can and rain gutter between Coconut Grove and the Beach Shores motel."
"What about Mikayla?" Calleigh asked.
"We had enough evidence to arrest Michelle, she's cooling her heels in lockup until tomorrow. She asked for a lawyer." Horatio sat his pillows at the head of the bed again and crawled in, stretching and sighing as he tried to get comfortable.
"Do you really think she did it, Horatio?" Calleigh asked quietly, stroking Mikayla's blonde curls while she slept.
"I do," he answered quickly. "I just need the gun to prove it."
TBC...
Pairings - Tim and his lovely wife Leanna, Horatio & Calleigh, Eric & Valera
Rating – PG for now
Summary – Two prominent physicians are murdered in their Coconut Grove home. All clues point back to the couple's daughter, who is hiding more than one devastating secret.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*
Tim and Horatio entered the interrogation room and faced Michelle Johansson. Her highlighted brown hair hung limp around her tear-streaked face. She looked, in a word, exhausted. Horatio sat down beside Michelle, on the same side of the table. Tim hung back in the doorframe, observing.
"Michelle," Horatio began quietly, "My name is Lieutenant Horatio Caine."
Michelle's blue eyes went wide as she recognized Horatio's last name. "Caine," she said, "You're the one who has my daughter."
Horatio nodded. "Actually, it's my wife, Calleigh. Mikayla is in very good hands."
"I want to see her," Michelle demanded, looking Horatio squarely in the eyes.
"In good time, Michelle," he answered. "In the meantime, Detective Speedle and I have a few questions for you."
She sank back in her seat and nodded weakly. "I heard about my parents, that's why I came back," she explained.
Horatio saw through the obvious lie. Michelle fiddled nervously with the Kleenex in her hands, unconsciously ripping the material to shreds. "How?" he asked, "How did you find out?"
She shrugged and wound the Kleenex around her fingers. "CNN," she answered with a shrug.
Horatio glanced at Tim, who shook his head discreetly. Eric had been monitoring the news and no reports on the Johanssons' murders had been featured on the national news. Horatio returned his attention to the young woman sitting beside him. "I'm afraid that's not possible, Michelle," he said gently.
"How dare you?" Michelle asked angrily. "I have done nothing but cooperate, you stole my child from me, and now I'm lying?"
"I appreciate your cooperation, Michelle, but your parents' murder has not been on CNN, and as for your child being stolen from you," Horatio cast a hard glare at her, "you left her with your parents, who were murdered, and Social Services took over. It's standard procedure."
"You call it whatever you want, Lieutenant," she said coldly, ignoring his comment about CNN. "I'm here now, and I want my daughter back."
Tim took over, sliding Eric's DNA analyses in front of her. "Do you know what this is, Michelle?"
The teenager glanced at the papers and shook her head. "DNA analyses, on you, Mikayla and your parents," he explained, not missing Michelle's hard swallow. "We were hoping you could explain something for us. According to this report, Mikayla's father is, well, your father."
Michelle shifted uncomfortably in her chair and swiped the shredded Kleenex over her bloodshot eyes. "So, you already know," she said.
"Yeah, we already know," Tim scowled, "and no offense, but it makes you the primary suspect."
She nodded weakly and took another look at the sheets. "I guess I can understand that," she answered.
"Michelle," Horatio began, "I don't want to take you away from your daughter for life without parole, but I need your help. Tell me what happened."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Lieutenant," she said incredulously. "I didn't kill my parents."
"I think you're lying again, don't you think she's lying, Speed?"
"Absolutely," the younger man responded. "See, the maid and your boyfriend, Chris Dougan, both told us they saw you the day of the murders."
"They're lying," she stated, her steely eyes drilling a hole through Tim.
"They're lying," he repeated sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"Yes," she answered plainly. "Look, I don't know who killed my parents, but I can assure you, it wasn't me. My parents and Mikayla were all I had left in the world."
"That doesn't mean you didn't kill them," Tim stated coldly.
"We have no other family. My grandparents are all dead, both my parents were only children and my twin sister, Lauren..."
"Died in a car accident, we know," Tim replied unsympathetically, settling into his 'bad cop' role. "What do you think we've been doing for two days, Michelle? Just sitting around, waiting for you to show up at the scene of the crime?"
Eric knocked on the window and Tim stepped outside, leaving Horatio in with Michelle. "Found a motel key in her rental car," Eric explained, handing Tim a sheet of paper. "Traced it back to the Beach Shores motel. Hagen showed the desk clerk a picture of Michelle – woman recognized her immediately. She registered under the name of Lauren Bartley."
"Not very creative, using the mother and sister's names," Tim said with a frown, "How long has she been there?"
"Since the day after she left for Cabo," Eric said. "She must have gotten on that plane, checked into the hotel there, and took another plane right back."
"Building the perfect alibi," Tim shook his head. "Or so she thought, she's already made two mistakes."
Eric nodded. "The maid and the boyfriend. I'm checking the car for the gun, and graveyard's going through the motel room with a fine-tooth comb. If she's made another mistake, we'll find it."
"Thanks, man," Tim said appreciatively. "By the way, there's pizza in the break room. We were having dinner when we got called back in."
He stepped back into the interrogation room and handed Horatio the report. "Michelle, we found your room key for the Beach Shores motel. You care to explain that?" Tim asked.
Michelle shook her head and sneered. "I'm not explaining anything to you, Detective. Not without my lawyer."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*
Horatio tossed his keys on the kitchen counter hours later, quietly padding upstairs to his bedroom. He gently pushed the door open, startled for only a second by the sound of two people breathing in the room. He crossed over to the bathroom, opening the door just enough to flip on the light, providing a tiny sliver of light throughout the room.
Calleigh was sleeping on her side, her blonde hair cascading across her navy blue pillow. Mikayla was tucked in securely beside her and Calleigh had set Horatio's pillows along the other edge of the bed, preventing the baby from rolling off.
Calleigh inhaled sharply, and Horatio cursed himself for flipping on the light and waking her. "Hi," she mumbled.
"Hi," he answered, removing his slacks and shirt, then sliding into his cotton pajama pants. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's okay," she drawled, rubbing her eyes and glancing down to check on Mikayla. "How's Michelle?"
"We've found her motel room, proof that she was in Miami the day of the murder, basically, everything but the gun," he explained, "And we've got every available uniform searching every dumpster, trash can and rain gutter between Coconut Grove and the Beach Shores motel."
"What about Mikayla?" Calleigh asked.
"We had enough evidence to arrest Michelle, she's cooling her heels in lockup until tomorrow. She asked for a lawyer." Horatio sat his pillows at the head of the bed again and crawled in, stretching and sighing as he tried to get comfortable.
"Do you really think she did it, Horatio?" Calleigh asked quietly, stroking Mikayla's blonde curls while she slept.
"I do," he answered quickly. "I just need the gun to prove it."
TBC...