Chapter 10 of the Caine Mutiny. Not proofread; just wedged between work and a promise. More soon. Deb
(H/C)
"Believing where we cannot prove."
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
(H/C)
Eight minutes and three seconds later, Horatio hung up the phone. He carefully centered his badge on the frontdesk edge and studied it, searching himself for any second thoughts. There were none. He couldn't possibly get permission through official channels for this. If another life was lost, he would at least know that this time, he had done everything he could.
"Knock, knock, knock." Calleigh stood in the doorway. "How's it going, Handsome?"
"No luck on the warrant. They've tied my hands here, Cal. I can, of course, come back later with more evidence, if we can find it."
She came across to the desk and dropped into one of the chairs in front of it, wanting the opportunity to face him on the same level, even if across a barrier. Alexx had called her a few minutes ago, suggesting that she check up on him, and Calleigh knew instantly now from his eyes that the ME had been right. Something major had happened. "So nothing new?" She left the door open invitingly, waiting to see if he would enter it without being pushed.
"No new evidence. The team will just have to keep going over what we have, I guess."
So much for the voluntary approach. "You're lying, Horatio."
His prowling eyes focused suddenly, tightly. "That wasn't a lie, Cal."
"Maybe not technically, but it was deliberately misleading. You're onto something."
"Now what makes you think that?"
"Horatio, I've been married to you for two years and loved you from a distance for several before that. You can't hide from me anymore." His eyes flinched away from hers and were magnetically drawn to his desk again. Calleigh deliberately played the hurt feelings card, knowing that would jolt him. Anything to crack that wall, although she'd beat it down by force if she had to. "I had thought you didn't want to hide from me anymore. Was I wrong?"
He looked back up at her, the battle visible on his face. "No, you weren't. But this is something I have to work out by myself, Calleigh."
Her shoes hit the floor with a sharp, determined snap like the safety on a gun being pulled back as she stood and leaned across the desk, angry now and letting him know it. "Damn it, Horatio Caine, I'm your wife, your equal partner. Stop trying to protect me." A lab tech walking along the corridor outside hesitated at the raised voice, then sped up, ostentatiously not looking into the boss's office. Calleigh didn't much care, but she knew Horatio did. She stalked to the door and closed it, carefully closing the blinds as well, then turned back, taking dead aim on him. "You are not getting out of this office until you talk to me. I don't care if it takes until midnight. We're wasting time, Horatio, and how much we waste is up to you, so start counting the minutes."
His eyes leaped almost convulsively to his watch. The second hand was sweeping around, like the minute hand on the end of Steve's coffin in his nightmares. He shuddered, tried to wrench his gaze away from it, and could not, hypnotized by those lost minutes. Calleigh sat back down, wishing she hadn't mentioned counting minutes. She'd meant to sting him, but her words had been a bullet of much larger caliber than she had intended. He looked absolutely haunted, and she knew she had lost the connection with his mind. He was trapped somewhere else without her. "Horatio." Her voice gradually called him back, and he finally looked up. "Talk to me, Horatio." She sat as tall as she could in the chair, still as determined but a bit less ruthless, and held him firmly with her eyes.
The silence lengthened until he finally broke it. "I'm not trying to protect you; I'm trying to protect Rosalind." It was a low plea for understanding, begging her to accept it and leave it there.
"Rosalind?" She hadn't expected that. "What on earth does Rosalind have to do with this case?" His eyes returned to the badge, and she suddenly noticed that he wasn't wearing it any longer. "Horatio, what are you going to do?" He picked up a pen, twirling it through his fingers. He never fidgeted, but he was now. "You're going back to that estate, aren't you? Without a warrant, unofficially. We already searched it, Horatio."
"Not as well as we could have." He met her eyes again. "We could have missed a secret compartment, and we definitely could have missed the shoes and the stencil."
She was still looking at him like he had lost his mind. "You think you can do a better job while trespassing in the dark? Horatio, I really think it's time you got off this case. You're not thinking straight anymore."
"I was in the break room a while ago, and there was a nature program on TV, talking about dogs and how well they could track their masters. I'm going back there tonight with Argo after everyone's asleep. He knows something's happened to Bill. If he picks up his scent anywhere on that estate, he'll find him."
Calleigh stared at him. "Horatio, you've always said the evidence will speak for itself. We haven't got the evidence. The captain even gave you a direct order to back off. You could lose your job for this. You might even get yourself killed out there; we already know Stapleton has guns. He'd be within his rights shooting a possible burglar in the dark."
"That," he replied, "is why I didn't tell you. Rosalind needs at least one parent."
"She needs her father, Horatio. And what about tonight? Did you think I just wouldn't notice you disappear for hours?"
He gave her a sheepish grin. "Honestly, Cal, I hadn't worked it out that far yet. I was thinking of Bill, then Rosalind. I've only had the idea for 20 minutes, and I was talking to Monica for most of that."
"Horatio, this is crazy. I don't think we could have missed Bill, even in a hurry. Even if someone in the family is involved, they're probably holding Bill somewhere else. Mrs. Stapleton obviously didn't know anything. It wouldn't be safe to keep him right there under her nose."
He had his dead-set stubborn look. "Cal, I can't think of a safer place to do this than on the secured estate of a powerful man with a well-known grudge against the police. If they're involved, Bill is there. He has to be. We must have just missed him, but Argo won't."
Logic wasn't getting her anywhere. "You can forget about it, Horatio. I'm not letting you do this."
"I'm still your supervisor, Calleigh. I decide what directions we take next in the investigation."
She couldn't believe he'd played that card. "Not any more. If you aren't following department regulations, I'm not required to take your orders on the work. In fact, I ought to go straight to IAB the minute you leave. I think I will. I'm sure they'd be interested, especially after what Captain Martin told you this morning."
It was his turn to feel betrayed. "Cal, I have to do this. I couldn't live with myself if I let this chance pass and Bill died."
"But you don't know Bill's there, Horatio. You may think so, but you said yourself Stapleton's attitude didn't quite fit, and the evidence that we have just isn't strong enough to throw your career away for."
His hand tightened on the pen until it snapped, bleeding ink onto a notepad. He didn't notice. "I am not going to dig another friend's grave. One is enough."
The fierce, literal emphasis on the words startled her. Guilt she understood, even though she disagreed that he was at fault, but for a moment, she had the impression that he wasn't speaking figuratively. "Dig another friend's grave? You didn't dig the first one, Horatio. That was the killer, not you."
His eyes fell, dodging hers, and he noticed the bleeding pen. He pulled the top few pages, thankfully blank, from the notepad, shrouded the pen's bent corpse carefully, and threw it into the trash. It landed with a thump at the bottom of the empty metal can. Buried. Like Steve. Horatio shivered, and he looked back up, his eyes seeking Calleigh's as urgently as they had avoided hers just seconds ago. She was watching him with puzzled concern. "That's the dream," he said softly, then trailed off. He couldn't go on.
There was no need for him to. "You have to dig Steve's grave? You mean literally?" In all of her guesses, none had approached that. Horatio nodded silently. She reached across the desk, bridging the barrier between them, and gripped both of his hands warmly in hers. Neither of them said anything for a minute.
"That isn't all." Horatio's voice startled him. "I'm digging, but I keep running into coffins that are already there." Her hands tightened around his. He didn't list the names. She could fill those in as well as he could. "There's a clock on the end of the casket that's spinning like crazy, and the whole funeral party is standing around waiting for me to get done."
She recalled Steve's funeral, where he had been staring at the grave. At least she had been there for him. Wait a minute. "What am I doing? If it's the funeral, I'm there, right?"
He looked at her hands, gripping his securely. "You're there at the beginning. You're the only one who doesn't blame me for the delay. But then, you just sort of vanish. You aren't there while I'm digging."
Her hands tightened almost painfully. "Horatio Caine, surely you could come up with something better than that. You know what would happen if it was real, don't you?"
He half smiled suddenly, the image for once not gruesome. "There was only one shovel, Cal."
"You didn't look hard enough. I'd be right there, digging with you." She released the pressure of her hands back to a mere reassuring grip. "I'm your partner, Horatio. If you really have to do something, I'll share it."
He heard the firm promise in her words. They weren't talking about dreams anymore. He met her eyes. "If anything goes wrong, somebody has to raise Rosalind. And your mother isn't the one."
Calleigh flinched at the thought. "We'll raise Rosalind together, Horatio. Just like we'll do this together. I am not staying behind while you go out there alone tonight. If you have the right to decide to do this, then so do I, and you'll need backup." They were no longer debating whether to go at all. She understood that much now, how crucial it was for him to exhaust every possibility, how unbearable another loss would be. If he didn't follow this idea and Bill died, the guilt would drive him insane. Now it was his turn to understand. He hesitated, then tightened his hands on hers, giving in.
"Okay, Cal. Maybe we'll wind up sharing a cell together after all. I suggested that to you once."
She smiled at him. "I can't think of any cell mate I'd rather have."
His strained sapphire eyes burned into hers. "Cal, if we can save Bill, I don't care if I lose my job over it. Or if we go to jail. I just don't care anymore."
She walked around the desk for the first time to join him. "Don't ever say you don't care, Horatio. You care more than anyone I've ever known. I'd be honored to share a cell with you. We can even volunteer for joint solitary confinement, and maybe the world would leave us alone for a while." She kissed him, and he slowly responded, the exhausted desperation somehow making it even more meaningful. He clung to her like a man drowning, needing her and letting her know it. From him, it was the greatest gift.
A throat cleared in the doorway. Horatio and Calleigh split apart but didn't go far. Tripp gave a self-conscious grunt. "Sorry. I did knock, but you didn't hear me. Thought there wasn't anyone here. Just wanted to leave a message. Any progress?"
"No new evidence," Calleigh stated.
"The team will just have to keep going over what we have, I guess." Horatio tried his best to sound road-blocked.
Tripp looked from one to the other of them, reading the excitement behind the front, noting the way their heads were tilted together, conspiring silently even now. "You know what? You're awful liars. Both of you."
Calleigh let a little southern indignation show. "That wasn't a lie, Frank."
"Maybe not technically, but. . ." He trailed off. He didn't have a hope of prying something out of both of them when they had teamed up against the rest of the world. "Anyway, here's the info from the car thief. Not too promising. Just like the rest of this case."
"Thank you, Frank." Horatio was courtesy itself. Tripp gave one final look from one of them to the other, then shrugged and left.
(H/C)
Jean was happily assaulting the piano when Horatio, Calleigh, and Rosalind got home. It took her a little time to disentangle herself from the piano bench, and by the time she was on her feet, they had already disappeared down the hall and into the bedroom, shutting the door firmly. Jean hovered outside and gave a tentative knock. If it weren't for Horatio's presence, she would have barged straight in. "Calleigh? Horatio?"
"We'll be out in a minute, Mother," Calleigh called through the door. "We're just changing clothes."
"Which," Horatio commented, "is perfectly true." He was rummaging through the closet and drawers, finding the darkest items they possessed that were practical enough for the evening's activities. Black shirts, black jeans, black windbreakers. Rosalind, parked on the bed, watched them curiously.
Calleigh studied the selection he had made for her. "That's perfect. I might have been thinking about breaking and entering when I bought these."
Horatio trailed his smooth touch across her cheek as he came by. "I doubt it," he replied. "You do look good in black." He started to change clothes.
Calleigh grinned at him. "I wasn't really thinking of myself when I bought them. I'm sure of that much. There were ulterior motives." She stripped off her own clothes and put on the black outfit.
Horatio was just tucking his black shirt into his black jeans. He gave her a smile at the mention of ulterior motives, but the smile faded as he buckled his gun holster on. He studied the badge but left it off.
Calleigh put her own badge on the dresser beside his. "They can wait for us here together. They might reflect light."
He refused to let himself off easily. "I can't do this with the badge, Calleigh. This isn't even borderline. If I go, it has to be on my own authority. The right against unlawful search is in the Constitution."
She gripped his arm. "And the right to life is in the Declaration of Independence. Horatio, don't beat yourself up in advance over something you've already decided to do. You're punishing yourself before IAB does, just to make sure you've been as hard on yourself as you possibly can be, and you know it won't change anything. Do you really have second thoughts about this?"
"No," he said definitely. "Even if I'm wrong, I have to know. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try this."
"Let's go, then." She picked up Rosalind from the bed and turned back to find his eyes on her.
"Thank you, Calleigh," he said.
"You're welcome, Handsome." Whether he meant for her advice or her partnership, he was more than welcome.
They opened the door. Their conversation had been deliberately low, but Jean wasn't waiting just outside. She hurried down the hall as soon as she heard them, though. "Mother," Calleigh said, "we're going out for the evening. We've decided to take your advice and get some quality time to ourselves as a family to try to fix a few problems. Will you be okay for tonight?"
Her mother preened at the mention of taking her advice. "Of course, dears, I'll be just fine. Are you taking Rosalind, too?" She didn't even notice the guns or the black working clothes, hardly the first choice for a night on the town.
"She's part of the household," Horatio stated.
"Yes, of course. Okay, kids, I won't wait up for you. Have fun!" The door closed behind them, and they had safely escaped their house.
(H/C)
Alexx opened her door and looked from one to the other of them, immediately noticing the dark clothes, the guns, and the lack of badges. "Thanks for helping us out here, Alexx," Calleigh said. "Sorry for the short notice, but we weren't about to leave Rosalind with my mother."
"I can understand that," Alexx stated, having met Calleigh's mother on a few occasions. "Come on, Rosalind. I'm always glad to have you. Never a problem, are you, honey?" She took the baby, and Rosalind, who knew Alexx perfectly well, stretched back toward her parents, nearly flipping out of Alexx's arms.
"Dada!"
Horatio took her, wrapping her in a fierce but gentle hug. "Be good, Angel. We'll be back for you soon." Calleigh took Rosalind from him, hugging her just as tightly, then handed her back to Alexx.
Horatio set the diaper bag inside the door. "Alexx, if Calleigh and I happen to get. . . delayed tonight and are out a bit later than we meant to be, take care of Rosalind for us, okay?"
"I will," Alexx promised solemnly. "You two enjoy your night out."
Calleigh impulsively hugged her friend and her daughter at the same time. "Thank you, Alexx."
Alexx stood there staring at the closed door after they left until Rosalind started to squirm. She put the baby down, and Rosalind, instead of heading deeper into the house, crawled the few feet to the door and pulled herself up on it, trying to reach the knob. Alexx picked her back up. "Oh, sweetie, they'll be back soon. It's okay. They'll be back in just a few hours."
She was trying to convince herself as well as Rosalind. It didn't work.
(H/C)
"Narc dogs have to be fairly well socialized, since they work around strangers all the time." Monica Weaver held Argo's leash in her hands, twisting it nervously. "He's met you several times when you've been over here, so he knows you're a friend of Bill's, and it's not like you'll be doing involved work with him. He's not feeling well, anyway, and that will slow him down some. I don't think you'll have much trouble with him."
"You agree that he'll react if he crosses Bill's scent out there?" Horatio asked.
"Definitely. He knows something's wrong with him. Just walk him around the buildings, and he'll let you know if he's there or if he's been there recently."
"He does know the basic commands, right? Sit, down, that sort of stuff."
"Or shut up," Calleigh put in. "That one might be helpful tonight."
"Quiet is a command. He doesn't bark on a drug search anyway, and that will probably carry over to sniffing around buildings looking for Bill. He definitely knows Bill's name; you might keep mentioning that you're looking for him. He'll figure out what he's doing. On the most basic commands, a lot of them are in German for German Shepherds. It avoids confusion; most of the perps don't speak German."
"What's the command for down? I'll try to keep him off his hurt leg as much as I can while we're waiting."
"Platz. Oh, and he is bite-trained, even though he's specialized as a narcotics dog, so it isn't used as much. Most officers on the streets in a place like Miami appreciate the extra protection. Packen is the bite command, but legally, you're supposed to warn someone three times before turning the dog loose on him."
"Legally, you're also supposed to have a warrant," Horatio pointed out. "I won't use it unless I have to, though."
"If he does get on anyone, aus is the command to make him let go. In fact, that really means stop what you're doing, so you could use it if he starts barking or whatever." She stared at the leash in her hands. "Anything else?"
"One more thing," Horatio stated. She looked the question at him. "Pray that this works out. It is a long shot, you understand. I'm not sure he's there."
Monica stepped forward and hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Horatio. For everything. Bill couldn't ask for a better friend."
He gave her a final reassuring squeeze and released her. "Keep your chin up."
She gave him a watery smile, then left the room, returning a few minutes later with the dog. Argo was traveling with a definite limp, and his shoulder was still swathed in bandages. "You remember Horatio, don't you, Argo?" Horatio held out a hand to the dog, palm down, and Argo sniffed it. "Good boy. It's all right, Argo. Go with him, now." Monica handed Horatio the leash, and Argo looked from one to the other of them, his intelligent almond eyes considering the transfer. She gave him a pat. "Go with him, Argo. It's all right. You're going to go find Bill." The dog's ears flicked at his missing master's name.
Horatio tightened up the leash. "Come on, Argo. Let's go." The dog just stared at him levelly, and Horatio looked at Monica. "What's German for heel?"
"Fuss," she provided. Horatio repeated it, and Argo fell in alongside him. Horatio shortened his stride to avoid stressing Argo's leg. With Calleigh on the other side and Monica trailing them, they headed out to the Hummer. Argo whimpered softly as Horatio lifted him into the back of the vehicle, and Monica gave him a sympathetic pat. "Platz," Horatio said, and the dog lay down on the carpeted floor. Horatio closed the rear door.
"Call me as soon as you can," Monica asked.
Horatio touched her arm lightly. "Count on it," he said. "Let's go, Calleigh."
Monica stood in the driveway looking after the Hummer until it was out of sight, then slowly headed back up the sidewalk to the empty house to start a vigil that she knew would last for hours.
(H/C)
Connor Stapleton's estate was surrounded by a chain-link fence on three sides with a high hedge planted a few feet outside it, hiding the fence from view. Chain-link fences might appear cheap, after all, and Stapleton probably had nightmares about appearing cheap. The fourth side, the side with the road, had the ornate iron fence with high spikes and the impressive set of gates, but Horatio stayed away from them. Undoubtedly, there was a camera focused on those expensive gates, since they could be operated by remote control from the house. The added risk of traffic demanded an approach from another side. Calleigh dropped off Horatio and Argo at the hedge well after dark, then drove off to hide the Hummer (as well as one could hide a Hummer) and walk back. Horatio was trying to spare Argo any more walking than was necessary on the search. He found a nice hiding place under the edge of the bushes, next to the fence, commanding a good view of the back of the big house. Lights were clearly visible in a few of the rooms. Horatio knelt next to Argo, retreating into the shadows, both of them becoming so much a part of the hedge that Calleigh, walking down the row a half hour later, didn't see them until she was almost on top of them. She climbed under the bushes to join them, and the wait began.
Argo was restless, sensing the urgency of their mission and undoubtedly still worried about Bill's absence. He started to stand. "Platz," Horatio said firmly, and the dog sank back to the ground. His defiant head stayed up, ears alert, nose testing the night. Horatio touched the dog lightly on his good shoulder. The incredible reassurance he could throw into a connection with victims flowed through his hands into the dog, and Argo relaxed, still alert but no longer tense. "Sorry about this, Argo," Horatio said softly. "You ought to be at home healing, but Bill needs you tonight."
Calleigh snuggled next to her husband against the wind, and he put one arm around her, leaving the other on the dog. The three of them waited together, resigned if not patient. "Did you ever have a dog, Horatio?" she asked softly. She'd never heard him mention a pet, but it was obvious that he had a clear connection with animals as well as people.
His body tensed up slightly next to hers, and his voice when it came was as soft and sad as the December wind moaning through the hedge around them. "I had one when I was a kid. German Shepherd, like this one. Not a police dog, of course, just a companion."
"What happened to him?"
"He was hit by a car one month before Mom died." Calleigh put her arm around him in turn, giving them a double link, and they leaned further into each other in mutual reassurance and warmth. "She was going to get me another one," Horatio continued. "We had the puppy picked out and everything, another German Shepherd like Max. We were just waiting for him to be old enough to be weaned. She was going to give him to me for my birthday."
Calleigh cringed. Horatio's 17th birthday had been four days after his mother's murder. "You couldn't take him, could you?"
He shook his head, the motion almost invisible in the dark, although she felt it. "The kennel tracked me down through the foster system. The puppy was already paid for, but I told them to keep it. They returned the money, and I tore it up into confetti and threw it in the ocean." She felt a shudder travel through him, an aftershock of the emotional earthquake of those days. "I could replace Max, in a way, even if it wouldn't be the same, but I could never start to replace her. I would've felt guilty every time I looked at that dog." He leaned his head against hers, and she felt a tear trickling down his face. She held him in silence, her embrace saying everything that words couldn't. "Sorry," he murmured into her hair after several minutes. "I feel like my life has been a novel sometimes."
"It's okay, Horatio. At least, you've been a high-class tragic novel. You're literature. My life was a cheap novel sold in airports." She kissed him thoroughly. "Until you, that is."
"Until you," he repeated. "You changed everything." He kissed her back, the cold wind no match for their mutual fire, and Calleigh started wondering how much scope of possibility there was while hiding underneath someone's hedge in the dark, waiting to commit an illegal search, with a large German Shepherd attached to them by a leash. Horatio abruptly raised his head. "Someone's coming," he whispered. Argo's head was up, his muzzle pointing like a compass. "Quiet," Horatio commanded.
Footsteps approached confidently behind the hovering circle of a flashlight. It was Daniels, the gardener, walking the perimeter of the estate on his usual nightly checkup. Horatio and Calleigh both closed their eyes as the circle came closer, and Horatio held one hand across Argo's eyes, preventing them from gleaming in the light. Daniels was humming to himself, casual, only half paying attention. This walk was too routine to hold his interest. He passed not five feet from them on the other side of the fence and never saw the dark dog and the two dark-clothed people crouching under the hedge.
Horatio removed his hand from Argo's eyes, but everyone was silent until the crunching footsteps on the grass could no longer be heard. "Maybe they'll all go to bed soon." He gave Argo a pat. The dog had been as still and quiet as a statue. "Good dog."
Calleigh looked at her watch, hitting the button to illuminate the dial. "It's 12:45, Horatio."
He studied his own watch for a second opinion. "I hate the waiting, but we won't help anything by getting caught before we complete the search. I figure we should wait at least a half hour past when all the lights are out."
Calleigh suddenly giggled, choking the sound back. "A few minutes ago, right before Daniels came by, I was considering more interesting ways of passing the time."
She felt his grin in the dark. "You weren't the only one. Unfortunately, I think even Daniels would have noticed that."
"Even if we were silent?" She kissed him again, and he responded for just a second before enforcing the restraint.
"Hard to stay silent. Besides, I still think there must be fireworks going off above us every time. Not only would Daniels see, but the hedge might catch on fire. We might have had the fire department out here. That's hardly the prelude to successful breaking and entering."
Calleigh laughed, trying to stay as quiet as she could. Oddly, both of them were more relaxed at the moment while waiting to break the law than they had been the last few weeks working on the right side of it.
"It's not so odd," Horatio replied. "We're doing something here. We will have an answer in a few hours, positive or negative. There haven't been many definite answers on this case."
"Horatio, I think you're a mind reader."
"Yours, anyway. And trust me, it's hardly a cheap novel sold in airports." He fanned his fingers lightly through her hair. "You do it, too. You walked right in this afternoon and knew what I was going to do."
"It was perfectly obvious, once I saw you'd taken your badge off. Besides, Alexx had forewarned me."
"Alexx knows?"
"I'm sure she does now, after we left Rosalind with her, but earlier, after she saw you in the break room, she knew you were planning something. She just wasn't sure what. So she called me to go pry it out of you."
Horatio chuckled. "I've spent most of my life trying to hide what I was thinking from people. I wonder if I've always been this lousy at it. No, it must be that I've just surrounded by exceptional people at the moment. Including, of course, an exceptional wife." His head came up. The golden windows in the house had winked out. "Lights off."
Calleigh looked at her watch. "1:00."
"At 1:30, we move." His voice was purely professional now. They waited in silent unison as their watches slowly counted down the minutes.