See chapter 1 for disclaimers, rating, etc. Here's a short (yes, really) bonus chapter for you before my week starts. By the way, for those who asked, DMSO really is a fantastically-effective medicine and is available cheap at any farm supply store. Note that the FDA thinks it's dangerous. Horse people have used it for decades anyway.

(H/C)

"DMSO has untold uses around the barn."

Quote from a bottle of DMSO that I bought. This was the line that immediately jabbed my muse and led directly to the birth of this story.

(H/C)

Horatio sat on the couch waiting. The book propped across his lap was fascinating, but part of his mind was also aimed toward Calleigh. He hoped she was having a fun evening, but as always when they were apart, he missed her.

He slowly turned the pages of Pete Carter's book, studying the shots, getting to know the victim. Pete had been brilliant. He had an eye for detail and an ability to frame shots that instantly transported the viewer to the scene. Horatio could almost hear the hoofbeats and the crowd.

A duck floated in a puddle on a very wet track. Behind her, the tote board displayed the odds and other information, including one item centered directly over the duck's head. Track condition: Sloppy.

A jockey, head down, face streaked with dirt, dismounted from a horse, head down, face streaked with dirt. Their mutual disappointment in their performance was clear in both bodies.

A horse galloped in the morning fog, the exposure somehow set so that the legs blurred, making the animal a vague, misty silhouette, otherworldly, unable to be captured completely even by the film. The shot was labeled Morning Dreams.

A horse's head almost completely filled one frame, only sky visible as a border. The ears were up, the eyes calmly alert, focused not on the photographer but on something in the distance that only the horse could see. The caption below that one read Seattle Slew: The Look of Eagles.

A horse returned after a win, and Pete had somehow made the focus of the shot the grandstand behind him, where the crowd was on its feet, applauding. The horse was angling his neck toward his public as he walked, accepting the accolades.

Two horses stretched toward the finish line, strides in absolute unison, ears flat back for streamlining, heads straining forward toward the fast-approaching goal. The jockeys folded down tightly on their backs against the wind of their speed, only trying not to interfere, knowing that their mounts were giving everything on their own. The caption was one word: Determination.

Horatio especially noticed the background of the shots. The background crowd was visible in many of the shots as Pete tried to transport the feel of the surroundings. People were recognizable if you looked closely enough. In research on his behind-the-scenes racing book, Pete could easily have caught something behind the horse that the subject might not have wanted published.

The car pulled into the driveway, and Horatio closed the book and stood. He was waiting when Calleigh entered, and neither of them said anything for a few minutes.

"Well, I missed you, too," she finally stated as soon as they parted for air. "Is Rosalind sleeping?"

"Like a baby." Horatio stepped back to let her fill his vision. "How was your evening?"

"Fun. Good conversation, good movie. Sally says hi. I was glad I had your picture with me, though. She thought you might not be real. I told her I'd wanted to demonstrate you in person, but you thought you'd be in the way, since she doesn't know you."

"We can't do everything together."

"Why not?" Calleigh couldn't think of a single good reason at the moment.

"The books say it isn't a good idea," Horatio replied.

"What do they know?" Calleigh moved around him to put her purse in its nook and slipped her shoes off, curling her toes luxuriously into the carpet. She always enjoyed removing her shoes at the end of a long day.

"I do have bad news, though," Horatio stated.

"What's that?"

"Our daughter wants a horse."

Calleigh grinned. "She liked the stable, then?"

"Loved it. You should have seen her. Lisa was doing one of her musical rides when we got there, and Rosalind was spellbound. Lisa had to get out Valentine to give Rosalind a horse she could play with. She even got a ride up the aisle and back."

Calleigh's grin abruptly faded. "Valentine. Isn't that the horse on that other case who was acting so psychotic that you used him to terrify the perps into confessing?"

"Um, yes." Calleigh glared at him. "He was perfectly friendly. He just didn't like the criminals, but he likes children." Horatio came across to face her. "I walked alongside him and held her on. She didn't have a chance of falling."

The thought of Horatio's strong, secure arms eased her worry a bit, but she still remembered Alexx's recitation of injuries that afternoon. "I'm not sure you should have encouraged her, though. Remember everything Pete had happen to him?"

"Pete was a jockey. That's totally different. I promise you, if Rosalind ever wants to be a jockey, I'll put my foot down."

"I'll bet," Calleigh said sarcastically. "I haven't seen you do it with Rosalind yet. She didn't happen to say anything tonight, did she?"

"No. I spent the drive over there and back talking to her, and I was showing her your picture later when we got home. I'm still waiting for that mama, though."

"What makes you think she's going to say mama first, Horatio? I really think you'll win that race."

He grinned at her. "She already has a name for me."

"That's not a word, just a sound."

"Still counts. The way I see it, she's bound to say mama first."

Calleigh ambled over to the couch and curled up contentedly on it. She had enjoyed the evening with her friend, but being here with her husband talking about their daughter won by a landslide. She noticed the book lying on the couch and picked it up. "Pete Carter's book. Did you get that from Lisa?"

Horatio sat down next to her, sliding over until their shoulders met. "She loaned it to me. I wanted to get a feel for his pictures."

Calleigh flipped through several of them. "He was really good, Horatio. The background people are definitely recognizable on several of them, though."

"I think that's got to be it. You can start looking through his other film tomorrow, see if anything jumps out. I wish we could salvage that last roll, but it's too far gone. Also, we might have a new murder method."

"What's that?"

"DMSO. It's a medicine used for horses, usually as an anti-inflammatory. The FDA has several questions about it and won't approve it for people, but Lisa said most horse people use it on themselves anyway."

"Why haven't we noticed all of them dying, then?"

"It isn't poisonous itself. I've been doing some research on the internet since Rosalind got to sleep. DMSO crosses the skin barrier and travels directly into the system. About five minutes after it's applied, it's found in the bloodstream. Within two hours, it's in every organ in the body. That's part of what worries the FDA, even though the body doesn't seem to be harmed by it. Like an injection without a needle, Lisa called it. I'd say Pete woke up, put some DMSO on his stiff neck, and was just getting dressed when the reaction hit him a few minutes later as the drug entered the bloodstream."

Calleigh picked up the line of thought. "You think somebody mixed something else with it that Pete was allergic to, and that's what sparked the reaction? Will it take something else into the system with it?"

"Maybe. According to the internet, it depends on the molecular weight of what you add. Substances with a high molecular weight don't mix, but it carries low molecular weight substances right along with it. Insulin, for instance, doesn't work at all. Several studies were tried on that, to see if diabetics could use a DMSO mixture instead of shots. Insulin is too heavy."

"We need to get a record of Pete's allergies. I wonder if the trainer or the track has that information."

"And how accessible it is to other people on the backstretch. I figure there have to be basic medical records on file at the track somewhere. Think of all of Pete's injuries. So many people get hurt there, you wouldn't want to be stuck waiting for information from the family. Racetrack workers travel all around the country, too, according to Wallace, so the family might not be immediately available. They'd have to keep their basic medical info along with them."

Calleigh frowned slightly in thought. "That changes our picture of the perp, doesn't it?"

"Exactly. He was trying for a quiet method, something that would be put down as an accident or a natural death. Pete falling on that hay hook must have complicated his plans horribly. Now, he'll be even more desperate for us to get the crime pinned on someone. Hence the effort to frame Ramon. It makes me wonder if whatever Pete saw was a preliminary meeting, planning something for the future that the perp can't carry out with cops all over the backstretch."

"We have got to get Ramon to talk, Horatio. He could be in danger himself."

"I know. I'm going to try it again tomorrow. I've got to figure out what that trainer is hiding, too. By the way, Lisa says that he's a well-respected, honest, conscientious trainer. Tomorrow, you can look at Pete's pictures, Eric and Speed can process what they've got, including comparing Pete's DMSO to Lisa's pure sample, and I'll head back to the track."

Calleigh put her arm around him. "And all this since leaving CSI tonight and while baby-sitting. Been working pretty hard for a night off, haven't you?"

"I didn't have anything better to do," he replied.

Calleigh pulled him more tightly against her. "You do now. So why on earth are we sitting here, married to each other, with our daughter sound asleep, and just talking about the case?"

Horatio's eyes sparkled as he came closer. "Excellent question."