Saturday, February 28

Calleigh always felt guilty about celebrating when they were in the middle of a case. But it was her birthday and the dinner had been planned for ages, and as Alexx said, "You only turn thirty once."

The dinner party was small; Speed and Eric were at Calleigh's bookshelf, paging through her gun magazines. When she walked past, she heard, "Obsessed," and laughed. Horatio and Gary sat on opposite couches, chatting about Bryan Woods' last baseball game. Alexx helped Calleigh clear the table and when she got to the untouched plate she said nothing. The phone rang; it was the call Calleigh had been expecting.

"Hi, Daddy."

Calleigh didn't hear the exact words spoken; all she knew was that her father had let her down again. She hung up and turned back to her friend, a forced smile in place.

"I think it's time for a refill." Alexx picked up the wine bottle.

Later, Calleigh found herself sitting next to Horatio, her legs tucked underneath her, her knees just touching his. The wine had left her with a pleasant buzz and right then she didn't mind that her daddy didn't come. She was not really following the conversation but it didn't matter; they were all a little drunk. Her cat jumped through the window and decided to make friends with everyone. He curled up on Horatio's lap. Calleigh didn't mind, except when Horatio removed his hand from her leg to pet the cat. (Wait, she thought, since when was Horatio's hand on her leg?)

"What's his name?"

"Harry."

Speed laughed. "You called your cat Harry?"

"He looks like a Harry."

Horatio nodded. "It's a proper name, and better than something like, I don't know, Sniffles."

"My sister had a cat when we were kids," Eric said. "She called it Dog. But hey, I've never said my sister was normal."

Everyone laughed, but Calleigh couldn't help wondering why Harry looked at her as if he knew something she didn't. Alexx and Gary stood; they had to get back to the kids. A little while later, Speed and Eric left too. After Calleigh walked them out, she returned to the couch and flopped down.

"Tired?" Horatio asked.

"Mm-hmm."

Somehow, she ended up sitting with her feet in his lap. They spoke about work, about Harry, about getting another year older, and it was too soon when Horatio smiled apologetically and said, "I'd better get going."

She walked him to the door and hugged him (she was the birthday girl, she thought, she was entitled). His arms were around her for a beat too long and she tried to gather the courage to ask him to stay. He ran his fingers through her hair, his eyes locked on hers and she was convinced he was about to kiss her.

But he let go and pulled an envelope out of his pocket. "Happy birthday, Cal." And then his lips brushed her cheek and he was gone.

She returned to the couch and opened the card. Dear Calleigh, I find it difficult to put into words how valuable you are – to the team as well as in a personal capacity. I hope that one day you will realize just how much you mean to me. May your birthday be all that you hoped it would be and I pray that the coming year holds nothing but the best for you. Horatio.

The wine had made her maudlin and weepy and she read the card over and over until it was memorized. She wished she'd asked him to stay.

Tuesday, March 2

The moon is full tonight, casting its light through the open windows. She sees a figure in white. Startled, she steps back, her hand flying to her mouth, a scream dying in her throat. The figure steps back too, mimicking her actions exactly and she realizes it's her reflection. She approaches the mirror slowly. The nightgown is thin and sticks to her skin, moist with perspiration. She hears the waves crash against the shore, smells the salt air, the humid air thick on and around her. And then she hears him.

"Mary . . ."

Confused (she knows she's not Mary) but not frightened, she heads for the staircase. It spirals upwards and she's overcome by a sudden dread: do not go up there!

"Mary, please," he says, and she knows she can't leave without knowing that he's okay. She begins to climb.

. . . and the stench is overwhelming and she tries not to breathe in but the air rushes into her lungs, burning, burning, burning . . .

Behind her: "Mary!"

She turns around slowly because now she is afraid and . . . oh God!

Friday, March 5

Still frustrated at the lack of progress in the Williams' case, Horatio was not in a good mood when he and Calleigh arrived at the beach. A woman lay naked on her back, a gaping wound in her side. There was surprisingly little blood. Calleigh put her case down and immediately started taking photographs. She saw Horatio talking to a girl in a sweatsuit and strained to hear what was said.

"I was just running and I thought . . . you know sometimes people get drunk, pass out on the beach . . . I thought it was that, you know, but . . . but then I got closer and . . ." The girl pressed a hand to her mouth.

"What time was this?" Horatio stepped to his left to shield her from the body.

"Uh, around seven-thirty, I guess."

"Did you see anyone else on the beach?"

The girl shook her head. "Can I go? I really don't feel that great right now."

Horatio handed her his card. "If you remember anything else, I want you to call me or Detective Sevilla, okay?"

She nodded.

"Okay." Horatio called one of the uniformed officers over. "Could you see that Miss Wyatt gets home?"

He walked up behind Calleigh. "Two dead girls, naked on the beach, two weeks in a row. What are the odds?"

"You think it's the same guy?"

"I don't know. We'll know more after the autopsy."

Calleigh stood and dusted sand from her knees. "It's an awfully short cooling off period if he is a serial killer."

Horatio nodded and looked out at the ocean. His sunglasses hid his eyes from Calleigh's view and she wondered what he was thinking. She turned away and waved at Alexx.

"You can take her."

"Once again, the victim was strangled. And, again, the body was cleaned. Does she have a name yet?" Alexx paused, and looked up from the folder she was reading from.

Calleigh nodded. "Benita Tomas. She was a waitress at a club downtown; Bar Blu. Her boss reported her missing when she didn't show up for work on Tuesday."

"Time of death was between one and three this morning. The wound to her side – probably made by a speargun, I'm guessing – was inflicted post-mortem, which explains the lack of blood. Oh, and aside from the sand on the body, I did manage to find traces of soap between her toes."

Eric smiled. "His first mistake."

"His first mistake was killing," Horatio said.

Speed cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, the soap is sold in just about every convenience store in Miami, so no luck there."

Horatio leaned back in his chair and studied the weary faces of his team. "How are we on victimology?"

"No link between them so far," Speed said. "But I'm still looking."

"Okay. Thanks."

They started to leave Horatio's office.

"Calleigh, do you have a minute?"

She turned back to Horatio. "Sure."

"Does anything strike you as significant about the murders?"

"Yeah, now that you mention it. The crown of thorns and the spear to the side. It reminds me of the crucifixion of Christ."

"I had that same thought, but I wasn't sure if it was too much of a leap."

Calleigh shut the door then sat down across from Horatio. "That doesn't sound like you."

"I've been distracted lately. I haven't given work my full attention."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He gave a thin smile. "Not right now."

"Well, when you do, you know where to find me." She stood. "I'd better get back to the lab. I promised Yelina I'd run comparisons for her."

She noticed the change in Horatio's expression when she mentioned Yelina and hoped that his distraction had nothing to do with her.

"See you later, Cal."

"Sure."

End part two.