CSI: Miami–"Bucket Brigade"

An Original Fan Fiction

"CSI: Miami" and it's characters are owned by CBS Televison and Alliance Atlantis.

Original Characters are my own.

CSI: Miami–"Bucket Brigade"

–1–

Horatio Caine pulled into the parking lot of "Merlita's," one of Miami's favorite local restaurant and diners. He had just gotten to the office when the call came through from dispatch. A dead body this early in the morning? It was going to be a long day in Miami.

He stepped out of the Humvee and adjusted his patented sunglasses. It was a perfect day in Miami. He guessed the temperature was in the low 60's and there wasn't a cloud in the bluest sky he'd ever seen.

He paused to take in the scene. The initial responding officer had closed off the entire parking lot and yard of the building with yellow crime scene tape. That made Horatio smile. P.D. was learning after all. He left the Hummer parked behind the cruiser on the street and walked toward the building.

He looked down at the pavement in the parking lot. There were some tire marks pulling away from the parking spot nearest to the door. The first evidence of the day. He pulled a small digital camera from his jacket pocket and took a couple of photographs.

Next, he pulled a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and slipped them over his hands. Taking the top and bottom of the rectangular door handle in between his two index fingers, he opened the door. The responding officer was standing in front of the 1950's like diner counter, looking up at the menu. "Hungry," Horatio asked?

"Oh, Lieutenant Caine, good morning. You're fast!"

"Well, officer Romano, I was in the area. Where's the body?"

"Right back here. Follow me sir."

Horatio followed the heavy set officer back behind the counter towards the back of the restaurant. Out front, the place looked like a traditional 50's style diner. It had neon lights, a juke box, and pictures of Elvis on the wall. It was also done in the pastel shades of pink and green. Back here though, it was just a kitchen. They rounded a corner containing a block of equipment, and came upon the dead body.

"Benny Merlita, the day manager and owner's son," officer Romano stated matter of factly.

Horatio gazed upon the gruesome scene in front of him. He would wait for Alexx to make the official call, but it appeared that Mr. Merlita had died of gunshot wounds. There were two bullet holes in his back and at least one in his head. The body lay on his stomach, directly in front of a large ice chest. The head was turned away from Horatio, but he guessed that most of the victim's face was missing anyway. "Who called it in," Horatio asked the officer?

"Robert Martinez, assistant manager."

"Where is Mr. Martinez now?"

"Back in the manager's office calling the owner."

Horatio frowned. The officer had left Martinez alone and unsupervised. He could have bolted out a back door, or even worse, he could be back there destroying evidence.

Just as Horatio opened his mouth to berate the officer, he heard a familiar voice. "Hey H, where you at?"

"Back here, Eric"

Eric Delko lead the way back for the train of people that followed him, sporting a pair of tan slacks and a jet black shirt. Calleigh Duquesne, the resident firearms expert was right behind him. She looked particularly dashing this morning, in black slacks and a white dress shirt, her badge and gun strapped to their usual position on her belt.

Next came Ryan Wolfe, the CSI team's newest member. Wolfe was catching on quite well, but Horatio needed to have Calleigh talk to him about the clothes. Today he was wearing a garish light blue jogging jacket with hunter orange trim and sleeves. He topped it off with a pair of cowboy blue jeans.

The last member of the motley crew was Alexx Woods, resident death expert. She looked chique as usual this morning, in a cream colored business suit. She stepped in front of the other three and knelt down next to the body. Her latex gloved hands reached out and tilted the victim's head slightly.

"No great mystery here. Massive head trauma. Victim has two exit wounds on his chest and abdomen. The head shots took most of the right side of his head and face. I don't think there's any bullets in this body, you're going to have fun, Calleigh."

Calleigh knelt down and examined the victim's wounds. "We have a time line."

Horatio knelt down beside her and Alexx. "What is it?"

Calleigh pointed to the powder burns on the head wounds. "These are close range stellate wounds, surrounded by GSR. The wounds on the victim's back show no sign of GSR. My guess is our shooter shot in him in the back, and then shot him in the head to make sure the job was done."

"You're sure the back is the entrance wound?"

"I am, Horatio," Alexx said. "Lividity indicates this man fell and died on his stomach."

"Ricochet," Calleigh said. She tilted up the victim's head and revealed two pock marks in the floor.

"Nice catch, Calleigh," Horatio said. "Here's what's going to happen. Ryan, I want you to go on the perimeter. Fingerprint the door, and catch the tire tracks out front. Calleigh, you stay here and help me look for the bullets and casings. Eric, go with officer Romano and process the assistant manager back in the office."

"Okay," Ryan said. "Wait, what's that?"

"What's what," Horatio asked?

Ryan walked around the body to a white bucket laying a few feet from the victim. The bucket was full of chunks of ice floating in water. "I think this may really give us a time line. If we document the conditions and experiment in the lab, this bucket may give us a real good estimate of how long ago the victim was shot."

"Explain please, Mr. Wolfe," Horatio said in his skeptical grandfather tone.

"Well, there's an ice scoop on the ground here. Lets say the victim

was getting ice out of the ice chest here and putting it in the bucket when he got shot. If we record how much of the volume of the bucket is water and how much is the ice state right now, then document the conditions and do the change of state ourselves back in the lab, we'll know how much time elapsed between the time he was shot and this point in time with the current volume ratio of ice to liquid water."

Horatio's face now showcased a very broad smile. "Well done Ryan, document the conditions, and then go out to do the perimeter."

Calleigh stepped next to him and grasped his shoulder. "Look at that Ryan, you're starting to think like a scientist instead of a cop. Nice observation."

Ryan blushed.

Eric walked by him and smirked. "Now if we could just get you dress like a person instead of a Wal-Mart mannequin."

–2–

Officer Romano led Eric Delko back to the manager's office, where Robert Martinez sat casually behind a cluttered desk. "I was wondering when you guys were going to get me."

"Hello Mr. Martinez. I'm Eric Delko from the crime lab. I'm going to need to ask you some questions and run some tests, if you don't mind."

"Should I make you get a warrant?"

"Well, we can question you without a warrant, and it really would go a lot smoother if you consent to be searched."

"Do what you got to do, man."

"Thanks. First off, did you touch the victim before the officer got here?"

"No."

"Okay, was there anyone else in the building when you arrived this morning?"

"Not that I know of."

"Did you call the police immediately when you found the victim?"

"I came right back here and the made the call."

"Okay, good. Can I see your hands please?"

"What for?"

"My tests that you consented to."

"Uh, okay."

"We need to rule you out as a suspect, sir." That line always conned the dumb ones into relaxing. Martinez held out his hands.

Eric took some large circular pieces of chemical filter paper from his kit. He sprayed them down from a little bottle and applied the first to the top of Martinez's left hand. He repeated the procedure with the bottom of the hand.

"What's that for?"

"It's a preliminary test for gunshot residue. It tests your hands for lead, barium, and antimony, the three most common elements found in GSR."

"Oh, OK."

Eric did the top of the right hand, and got a faint blue indication on the filter powder. He looked up at Martinez, who was visibly nervous. Eric frowned the test was positive, but weak. He repeated it, and got the same result. He turned over Martinez's right hand, and noticed a dark brown stain on the cuff of his long sleeve work shirt. Eric's frown got darker. The test on the bottom right hand also gave the faint positive indication. "Is that blood, sir?"

Martinez looked down. "I don't know, maybe?"

"I'm going to need to take your clothes, sir. Officer Romano will accompany you to the police station, where one of our detectives will talk to you some more."

"What the hell?"

"Just please continue to cooperate, sir."

"Do I need a lawyer?"

"Not yet."

–3–

Ryan Wolfe sat his kit down in front of the door. Prints. Last time he had tried to interpret prints, Horatio had to set him straight. All part of learning the job, he thought.

The handle of the door was black, so the traditional black powder wasn't going to work. He pulled open his kit removed and removed a bottle of redwop powder. He smiled. Redwop was powder spelled backwards. There were some weird people in this business. He opened it and exposed reddish/orange powder. He coated the tip of a new white fiberglass brush, then shook the excess powder out back into the bottle. Soon he was flipping and rotating the brush over the door handle.

Several latent prints presented themselves almost immediately. Wolfe smiled. He could only hope they belonged to the killer. Taking his tape from his kit, he began to lift them from the door handle one by one.

After depositing each lift on a card, he turned to the inside of the door. On the glass were several patent prints. He counted nine fingers. Maybe they cleaned the door before they closed. The black would work fine here. He dusted and collected the prints before heading back outside.

The tire impressions were the other critical pieces of evidence out here. After taking some photos, he knelt down and measured the width of the treads. The light was good, and the impressions were dark. The car obviously peeled out. It would make for good comparisons.

Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him. He turned to see Horatio examining his latent fingerprint cards. "Why redwop, Ryan?"

"Well, I needed a contrasting powder to the color of the door."

"Department procedure is white."

"Well, yeah, but these we can put under the UV light back at the lab and use redwop's fluorescence to help make comparisons."

"Good, Ryan, you're two for two. Did you get those tire impressions documented?"

"Yes sir, just finished."

"Okay. Take a walk around the outside of the building and make sure we're not missing anything."

"You got it, Horatio."

–4–

Back inside the diner, Calleigh was in her element. She had located two holes in the wall where the bullets had lodged after slicing their way through their victim. After recovering the two projectiles very carefully, she set her sites on calculating trajectory.

Horatio came back inside and watched her. There weren't very many true qualified firearms experts in the United States, and he was lucky to have some one with Calleigh's knowledge and experience on his team. Most firearms examiners were glorified lab rats who stuck in the office firing test shots and running IBIS. Very few were like Calleigh, and really enjoyed the field work.

Calleigh removed two lasers from her kit and put one in each hole in the wall. She eased them in. If she forced it and broke off the slightest piece of plaster inside the hole, it would forever damage her estimates. After guiding them into place, she turned on the red laser and followed the two beams to where they converged. "There you go, Horatio," she said with a smile.

Horatio walked over and stood, raising his hand up to the point where the beams converged. He looked out over the floor, where the victim had fallen. Alexx had completed her work and taken the body to the morgue. He was standing about 6 feet from where the victim had fallen. "Well, this works. The shots were fired close enough to carry through the victim to the wall, but far enough away as to not leave powder burns."

"Yes, Horatio. Depending on the gun, between about three and nine feet."

"What about our gun, Calleigh? What are we looking for?"

Calleigh held up two evidence bags. One contained a bullet, and the other a shell casing. "Forty-Five caliber."

"Well, that doesn't narrow it down much."

"Six lands and grooves, left hand twist."

"A Colt?"

"Maybe, or a knock off. I'll know more when I get back to the lab. The cartridge might be the key. There's some interesting marks from the breech block, as well as some irregular ejector marks. It could be a specialty gun."

"Are we ever that lucky?"

"Not usually, but you know what they say."

"What's that. Calleigh?"

"It's the stupid ones we catch."

"So what's your next order of business?"

"Well, I've got four casings and two bullets. Alexx said there probably weren't any bullets in the victim, so we've got two ricochet bullets to find."

"Great. I'm going to take Ryan back to the lab and get his experiment set up. When Eric is done with the manager, have him help you with the ricochet."

"Okay. Horatio. We'll do."

–5–

Horatio put his shades back on as he stepped out into the morning sun. He found Ryan hunched over a curb next to the parking spot with the tire treads. Horatio leaned over trying to see what Ryan was collecting.

"You're in my light," Ryan said.

Horatio resisted the urge to laugh and stepped away from Ryan. "What have you got?"

"It looks like credit card receipts, with a side of blood."

Ryan backed off and let Horatio have a look. It did indeed appear to be two credit card receipts, weighted to the ground by a couple of drops of blood. "Did you do a presumptive test yet, Ryan?"

Ryan proudly help up a Hemastix test. The tip was green. When placed in the suspect liquid, the tip of the test strip turned green to indicate the presence of blood.

"Good. Bag and tag it, Mr. Wolfe. Did you find anything else around the perimeter?"

"No, I went for a walk, and had a good look. I took photos of all possible entrance and exit points. Nothing. I was really careful."

Horatio looked through the top of his shades at the young CSI. He could tell Ryan was trying very hard to impress. He had gotten rather short with the young man a couple of weeks prior, when Ryan had failed to examine a car to the extent he should. Ryan had taken a couple of days off after that, and had been walking on pins and needles ever since.

"Look, Ryan, we all make mistakes. Even I made mistakes as a rookie that let a powerful politician get away with murder for many years. It's not the fact that we made the mistakes that counts. We're all human, they happen. It's what we learn from them and take into our experience afterwards that counts."

Ryan looked down at the ground. He had wanted Horatio to just say SOMETHING to make him feel better the past two weeks. At one point he even feared for his job as he laid in bed. Waiting for Horatio Caine was to show emotion was like waiting to see what an old World War II era bomb would do. Sometimes, he just exploded with devastating consequences. Other times, he was a total dud. There wasn't much in between.

He raised his eyes to meet Horatio's, hidden by his ever-present sun shades. "Thanks, Horatio. Thanks for giving me another chance."

"No problem, Ryan." Horatio patted him on the back. "Lets get back to the lab and set up that experiment of yours."

–6–

Calleigh stood with her arms folded in front of her. Her eyebrows wrinkled into a look of contemplation as she tried to decide how find her missing bullets. She felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Eric standing behind her.

"Still looking for the bullets" he asked?

"Yeah, any ideas?"

"Well, yeah, there's one right over there." Eric pointed to the wall directly above the ice chest, couple of feet below the two previously processed holes.

"How did I miss that?"

"It was in the dark. There's more sun in here now, I saw it when I walked in."

"Wow, Eric. Maybe I need a vacation."

"Don't we all?"

Calleigh took a photograph of the bullet strike, placed an evidence tape marker next to it, and photographed it again. "Okay one to go."

Calleigh and Eric both removed their flashlights and began scouring the walls and kitchen equipment for the missing bullet. There was no easy way to do this, an eye-straining search was the only option. The bullet could have bounced off the floor in any direction, trajectory mapping was useless. After about an hour of silent, fruitless search. They stopped.

"I don't see it," Eric said.

Calleigh's eyes fell to the floor. Maybe it wasn't necessary, but she could just hear the defense attorney now. "You never recovered the fourth bullet? Well, then you can't be one-hundred percent sure it was a shot fired from my client's weapon that killed the victim, can you?"

She sighed loudly.

"So, it's not in the wall, not in the equipment, not in the victim. Where is it at," Eric asked?

Calleigh smiled. They still had one place to check. She turned on her flashlight and pointed at the ceiling.

"What are you doing?"

"Process of elimination."

She walked around the room. The ceiling lowered as it reached the point where the hallway went back to the manager's office. Calleigh grinned widely as she saw the strike. "Got it."

"Nice job, Calleigh."

She walked over and put her arm around him, non-chalantly. "Hey thanks Eric. Now how about you do me a favor and find a ladder and recover that bullet?"

Eric smiled and shook his head as he walked out the hummer to grab a step ladder.

–7–

Back at the lab, Ryan stared at buckets. This was turning out to be harder than he thought. First off, he had no idea how much ice had been in the bucket when Merlita had been shot. He relayed this to Horatio, who stood next to him.

"That's okay, Ryan. Think it out, think out loud."

"Well, the bucket obviously wasn't full. Merlita still had the scoop out and it didn't overflow."

"Right."

"When we measured it at the diner, the bucket contained 2.13 liters of water, and 15 grams of solid ice. So I'd guess it had to be at least a third of the way full."

"Good."

"I've set up three conditions. One bucket is one third of the way full, one his halfway full, and the other is about two thirds of the way full. I also filled one totally, for a control."

"I'm liking what I'm hearing so far, Mr. Wolfe."

"The temp in the diner was 65 degrees. I've lowered the temp in the room to 65 and started a stopwatch for each bucket. We'll see what we get."

"Well, it's only going to be an approximation, but a useful one. Good job Ryan. Stay on it. I'm going to interview the manager."

Ryan watched Horatio leave, then looked again at his buckets. Why had he decided to do this again? He sat back and got ready to be bored. He picked up a copy of the Journal of Forensic Science and thumbed through the pages. Horatio wanted his entire team to be up on the latest research.

A few minutes later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Valera, the DNA lab tech, hovering over him. "I heard you signed up for the bucket brigade," she said.

Ryan smirked an annoyed smile at Valera. "It's an experiment."

"I know. It's all over the lab that you hijacked QD's storage room."

"I had to find a room where I could control the temp."

She pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. After a minute, she blurted out, "This sucks."

"No, Valera, this is the highlight of my day. Don't you have a DNA lab to run?"

"Yeah, it's lunch time."

"So why aren't you in the break room?"

"Let's see, who is in the break room right now? Calleigh and Eric just sat down for lunch, and they don't talk to anyone but each other. The Trace tech from night shift is there for some reason, and he's watching "Happy Days" reruns, which is annoying the hell out of that new rookie detective, who wanted to turn country music on the radio instead."

"Oh, I see."

"Besides, I thought maybe you could use the company."

Ryan managed a smile. "Thanks."

"You had a great idea, Ryan. Calleigh was talking about how much it impressed her."

"Yeah. I guess I did something right."

Valera got up and rubbed his shoulders. "Even the great Horatio Caine makes mistakes Ryan. Don't worry about it."

"It's not just that, Valera."

"Well, what is it then?"

"I don't think I can be who they all want me to be."

"You mean Speed?"

"Yeah."

She sat back down next to him. "Ryan, one Tim Speedle was enough for the world. We miss him everyday, but I don't think anyone really expects you to be him. You need to take that burden off of yourself."

"He would have got the car right."

She sighed, "Ryan, Speed was far from perfect, even on his best days. Ask Calleigh. They day before he died, she said she was going to kill him for taking her kit without asking her."

Ryan looked up at the ceiling. Between Horatio and Valera, he actually felt better. "Thanks Valera. You really helped me out."

She smirked, and the caring young lady face switched back to the sarcastic, slightly annoyed DNA tech face. "You're welcome. That will be fifty dollars."

–8–

Horatio Caine liked to get right to the point. "Mr. Martinez, why did my CSI find gunshot residue on your hands this morning?"

Martinez looked honestly surprised. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Horatio placed both hands on the table in front of Martinez and leaned in real close. "Listen sir, we found gunshot residue on your hands and blood on your clothes. I suggest you start telling the truth."

"I didn't kill him, I didn't fire no gun!"

Horatio thought for a moment. He was still waiting for Valera's results on the DNA from the blood, and the rest of his clothes were negative for GSR. If Martinez had fired the gun, his shirt should have been covered with it.

"You're lying."

"I swear!"

"You either pulled the trigger or touched that body. Which is it?"

"Ok, I touched him."

"Did you move him?"

"No, I felt for his wallet."

"Why? Were you going to rob him?"

"No."

"Then please explain to me why you reached for the wallet of the deadman."

"I want a lawyer."

"Fine, get used to that comfy chair then."

Horatio walked out of the interrogation room. Frank Tripp was waiting for him. "You know Horatio, as soon as that Public Defender gets here, Martinez is walking."

"We may still have DNA, Frank."

"Well, the blood was on his sleeve, right? That's consistent with his story. He just touched the body."

"Yes."

"So now what?"

"Let him sit tight. Hold him as long as we can. There's so much more we don't know."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to motivate Valera."

A few minutes later Horatio stood in the DNA tech's doorway. No Valera. Horatio looked at his watch. Was she on break? Then he felt a tap on his back. He turned and saw the DNA tech, looking rather annoyed.

"Can't a lady get a break around here, Horatio?"

"Well Valera, right now someone from the public defender's office is on their way right now to spring my only suspect, unless you have some news for me."

"Well, if you move out of my way, maybe I'll get my print outs and tell you."

Horatio smiled and glanced at the floor as he stepped aside. Valera rolled her eyes and walked into her lab. She headed over and picked up two print outs. "Okay, sample 34. Blood stained shirt. DNA is consistent with the victim."

"Good, anything else?"

"Yes. Sample 62, blood found on the credit card slip. Also consistent with the victim."

"Okay, thanks Valera."

"Does that help?"

"We'll see."

–9–

Calleigh leaned over the comparison microscope, her long blonde hair tied behind her, out of the way. She had two of the bullets from diner shooting on the stage. They had the same lands and grooves as a Colt, and they were .45 caliber. Unfortunately, that could be any kind of Colt knock off or specialty gun. The real find in this case was the cartridge casings. She turned her office chair 90 degrees to look at another station. She picked up one of the cartridges and eye balled it closely.

Two distinct features stood out on this cartridge. When the semi-automatic pistol is fired, the force of primer pushes the cartridge back against the breach-block leaving one set of markings. Then a catch system, called the ejector, spits the shell out of the barrel. This action creates the second set of marks. Calleigh had never seen breach-block or ejector marks quite like these.

She pulled out her ballistics encyclopedia and began pouring over the pages. Eric stood behind her and watched patiently. It wasn't all fun and games. Working for the crime lab often required hours of pain-staking research. He wondered what he should do. They had just been up to the break room for lunch, so no breaks allowed for a few more hours. Maybe he should go check in on Ryan and his buckets. He turned to leave, but as he was about to exit, he heard Calleigh squeal in delight. "I've got it."

"What?"

Calleigh got up and went into her lock up. The caged area was like the Noah's Ark of guns. It contained at least one of almost every kind of gun you could think of. She picked a bright silver pistol off the wall. It was a handsome weapon, with a long black side grip. The word "INFINITY" was emblazoned on the barrel.

"Eric, will you grab me a box of .45's, please"

"Sure." Eric fished a box of .45 caliber ammo out of a drawer walked over to Calleigh, who was now standing next to the bullet recovery tank. "What kind of gun is that?"

"It's a Strayer-Voigt Infinity Match Pistol. They've only been around about 12 years."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Watch and learn." Calleigh loaded a magazine into the pistol and put on her safety goggles. Eric pulled a pair of goggles from a nearby shelf and did likewise.

"Two shots!" Calleigh called to no one in particular. Immediately after, she fired two shots into the bullet recovery tank. The shells ejected to the right, and Eric picked them up. Calleigh unloaded the gun, and fished the bullets from the tank. "Okay, bring those shells over."

Calleigh positioned one new shell and one shell from the scene in the comparison stage. "Yup, looks good." She backed away and let Eric have a look.

"Yeah, the breach block markings are very similar. So what's the deal?"

"The Infinity has a really unique trigger system. When you replace it, it forces these little odd striations on the breach block. S.V.I. guns are the only pistols that use this system. They have a patent on it."

"I'm not gonna ask how you know that."

Calleigh flashed him her brilliant smile. "Didn't they tell you I know it all?"

"Yeah, I heard that somewhere."

"How about you be a doll and pull up a list of registered S.V.I.'s in the area. They're a regional weapon from Texas, there shouldn't be too many around here."

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna shoot this gun some more, of course."

–10–

Ryan walked with a spring in his step. From his buckets, he had been able to approximate that the killing had happened about 90 minutes before they arrived. Now they had a time line. He was on his way to the interrogation room to give Horatio some vital information. He rounded the corner and saw Horatio, Martinez, and a slender blonde woman sitting at the table. Ryan guessed the woman was from the public defender's office.

Horatio looked up and noticed Ryan and waved him in. Ryan closed the door behind him ans slid the reports silently in front of Horatio. Horatio took a second to look them over. His eyebrows arched. "Good work, Mr. Wolfe."

Ryan smiled.

"Okay, Mr. Martinez. You called in the murder at 7:55 AM. We arrived at 8:14. What time did you arrive at the diner?"

"About a quarter to eight."

Horatio frowned. "Can you prove it?"

The lawyer scowled. "You're fishing, Lieutenant."

"Actually, I can. Get me my wallet."

Horatio pulled the trey containing Martinez's effects over on the table. Martinez picked up his wallet and thumbed through the bill fold. He pulled out two receipts and handed them to Horatio. At 6:40 AM, Martinez had bought gas at a 24/7 store half way across Miami. At 7:15 AM, he had purchased breakfast from a McDonald's a few blocks from the gas station. Neither were anywhere near the diner. Ryan's buckets put the murder at about 6:45 AM. Martinez was not even in the area.

Martinez saw the look of consternation on the CSI's face. "There you go, I told you." With that, Martinez flung the wallet across the table at Horatio. As it hit the table a packet of slips bounced out, they were rubber banded together. Horatio yanked a latex glove from his shirt pocket and picked them up. They looked familiar.

"Hey, you can't do that!"

Ryan spoke up for the first time. "Plain view, sir. Think before you throw things next time."

The lawyer stood up swiftly. "Come on, Mr. Martinez, we're leaving."

Horatio spoke without looking up from the slips in his hand. "Not so fast. Mr. Martinez, why do you have the store's charge slips in your wallet?"

Martinez struggled for an answer. "I forgot to put them in with the deposit."

"I don't think so. You see, we found a charge slip on the ground outside the diner covered in blood. I think you were running a scam."

"More fishing, CSI Caine" the lawyer said.

"Tell me, Martinez. This is why Merlita is dead."

Martinez looked at the ground. "We did it through the drive through mostly. That's why we put the drive through in."

"Shut up, Mr. Martinez," the lawyer howled.

Horatio smiled. He loved this part.

"I want it on the record that this client is speaking against the advice of counsel."

"Whatever," Ryan shot back.

Martinez continued. "We advertised that you could pay with your card at the drive through. Super-convenient, you know? We would just slide the card twice. You know, no one ever checks their bank statements. We put the second set slips on another register, so it was never counted with the days business. Once in awhile, someone would look at their statement and figure it out. They'd call us, we'd tell them it was an honest mistake and refund them the second charge. That didn't happen often though."

"How much did you take in a day on that." Horatio asked?

"A few hundred bucks. Maybe not much a day, but it adds up over the month, you know?"

"Who else knew about the scam?"

"Well, me and Benny."

"What about Benny's dad, the owner?"

"No, he didn't know."

"Who else?"

"Sean Riggins, the night manager. Um, lets see, A.J. Petersen. He's the assistant night manager, and the guys who work our drive through."

"I need more names."

"I can get you a list."

"Okay. Do that. That's why you reached in on Benny's body , right?"

"Yes."

"Too bad the slips were already gone."

Martinez sat silent.

Horatio got up. "I want that list Mr. Martinez. Work the phones. If you're lucky, and we catch this guy, we'll see if we can cut you a deal on the theft charges."

–11–

About an hour later, Horatio had his entire team, plus Valera and Frank Tripp, assembled in the conference room. "Ok. Mr. Martinez has given us some names. Turns out they were running a little credit card scam from their drive through window. Martinez didn't kill Merlita, but I'll bet one of the others who knew about the scam did."

"Right, Valera said as she addressed the entire group. "The charge slip Ryan recovered outside the diner has blood on it that matches the victim."

Horatio nodded. "That's most likely what the killers were after. There was no cash in the register yet, and the safe wasn't touched."

"Okay," Calleigh said, "my turn. The gun used was an S.V.I. Infinity. Eric has a list of names of individuals who own that pistol. Lets see if we have any matches from the list Martinez provided."

Horatio slid a piece of paper in front of Delko. "Go for it, Eric."

Ryan spoke up. "I ran the prints from the door and the ridge detail from a print we found on the charge slip through AFIS. No hits."

"You pulled prints from the charge slip," Horatio asked?

"Yeah. There was some ridge detail in the blood. I used Amido Black for that. I also fumed the slip with Iodine, and came up with two more prints."

"Very nice, Ryan."

"It would have been nicer if we had got something in AFIS."

"You won't need that now," Eric said. He looked from his papers. "I think we need to go have a chat with A.J. Petersen. He owns an Infinity."

Horatio smiled widely. "Frank, can you get us a warrant?"

"I'm all over it, Horatio."

–12–

Horatio didn't care about a fashionable entrance. About 45 minutes after the meeting in the conference room broke up, several Miami-Dade police cruisers and the CSI Humvee roared to a stop in front of the residence of A.J. Petersen.

Frank and several uniformed officers jumped from the cars, guns drawn. Horatio joined them. Eric, Calleigh, and Ryan waited behind the Humvee, out of the line of fire. Horatio knocked loudly on the front door of the suburban Miami home. "Miami-Dade Police, Search Warrant!"

No answer, a few of the uniformed officers broke off and went around the back of the house. Horatio looked around. There was a car in the driveway, but no lights on. No other sign anyone was home. "Break it down."

Two more officers approached with a battering ram, and cracked the door in under two minutes. The officers flooded the house in search of Mr. Petersen. Horatio wandered into the living room. One by one, the officers came into the room. The house was clear. Frank motioned to the CSIs, and Eric and Ryan joined Horatio inside. "Spread out, find that gun" was all Horatio said. Ryan and Eric moved in different directions.

Horatio wandered into the kitchen. The garbage can caught his eye. He walked over and opened it. "Jackpot."

"What is it," Frank asked?

Horatio reached his gloved hands into the garbage can and pulled out a bloody Miami Heat Basketball Jersey. "I think we're on to something."

"I know we are." It was Eric's voice. He rounded the corner, with a pistol in his hand. "S.V.I. Infinity .45. Calleigh's gonna go wild!"

Horatio smiled. It was all coming together. "Well, have Ryan bag and tag this jersey, and lets go make her day."

Eric and Horatio walked outside. They found Calleigh kneeling next to the green Honda Prelude parked in the driveway. She was holding a transparency of the tire tracks found at the diner over it's tires. "Hey guys, we've got our car."

"That's not all." Eric held up the pistol.

"Oh, you have all the fun," Calleigh said jokingly. In two large strides she was standing next to Eric, practically prying the gun from his hands. It was just like the one she had in the lab, only this one had a gold grip as opposed to the standard black. "What a lovely gun. I can't wait to shoot it."

"So the question now becomes, where did Mr. Petersen run off to?"

As if on cue, Frank and Ryan emerged from the house. Ryan spoke up. "Looks like Mr. Petersen owns a new speed boat." Ryan presented the paper work to Horatio.

Eric knelt down in the grass next to the drive way. There were two large ruts in the ground. " Looks he parked his boat trailer here. It's gone too."

Horatio spoke up. "Frank, where's the closest marina?"

"About five miles to the south, I think."

"Okay, lets go see if he's been there recently. Calleigh, go back to the lab and test fire that gun. Eric, you and Ryan come with me."

–13–

James Walker didn't really enjoy cleaning the docks at the marina, but it let him be outside on these gorgeous summer days, and helped finance his way through the University of Miami. He got up from his scrubbing position and closed his eyes as he stretched his back. When he opened them again, four men were standing in front of him. Two were in suits, one wore a jet black casual shirt, and the other, well he looked like his mother dressed him.

The tall red-headed man in the suit and sunglasses approached him. "Sir, my name is Horatio Caine from the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. Do you know, or have you seen A.J. Petersen?"

"A.J.? Yeah he's here. Just rolled up about an hour ago. He's getting ready to take off on berth 4."

"Where is that?"

James turned around and pointed to a green speed boat moored about 500 yards away. "That's him."

No thank you's, the four men took off hurriedly towards berth 4. Horatio lead the way. He saw two men, standing in the green boat. One was a tall African American, and the other a shorter, athletic white male with blonde hair. He matched Martinez's description of Petersen.

Horatio called out. "A.J. Petersen? Stop right there! Miami Dade Police!"

The blond looked at Horatio, then jumped over to the wheel of his speed boat. His friend almost fell out of the boat as Petersen fired up the engine and pulled away from the dock.

"Damn it, H," Eric yelled. He quickly turned on the speed and ran down the dock, hoping he might be able to jump on the boat. He was much too late. He stopped at the now vacant berth and put his hands on his knees breathing heavily. The other three men caught up to him. Horatio patted him on the back.

"Nice try Eric. We'll get the Coast Guard after him."

Eric looked sideways into the young couple standing in the blue speed boat that had been moored behind Petersen. He jumped in the boat. "Miami Dade Police. We're going to borrow your boat."

Before they young couple could protest, Ryan was in the boat ushering them out. Frank stayed on the shore to call the Coast Guard. Horatio hopped in the boat with Ryan and Eric. "Hang on," was all Eric said. He mashed the throttle on the boat and they took off. Ryan fell over with the initial jolt. He soon gained his legs and stood behind Horatio and Eric as Delko steered them out into the blue ocean and even more azure sky.

The noise from the engine was almost unbearable, but Horatio propped himself next to Eric. "Who taught you how to drive these?"

"Speed!" Eric yelled over the engine

"Yeah, we're going fast, but who taught you to drive the boat?"

Eric looked annoyingly at Horatio. "TIM SPEEDLE!"

"Oh."

Eric's boat was a faster model than Petersen's, and in less than ten minutes, they were trailing right behind the green suspect boat. Soon the Coast Guard had two boats of their own flanking Delko. Eric beared down on the controls. He wanted to get alongside the green boat. Suddenly, he heard a faint POP and the plexiglass in front of him exploded.

"H, they're shooting at us!"

Horatio leaned over the side of the boat, the ocean water spraying his face and cooling him off on the warm summer day. The African American man held a rifle. Just then, the plastic and paint on the boat exploded right in front of Horatio. He jumped, and lost his balance, spilling violently over the side of the boat and in to the ocean.

Ryan yelled at Eric, but Delko didn't seem to be paying attention. With great relief, he saw one of the Coast Guard boats pull up and collect Horatio.

"Ryan, get up here!"

Ryan got up next to Delko. "What?"

"Get your gun out. We're going in."

"WHAT?"

"Just do it!"

Ryan pulled his pistol. Eric mashed the throttle again and the boat picked up speed. Two more shots from the rife whizzed by. Ryan ducked to make himself a smaller target. Eric was swerving the boat. Ryan had to time it just right. Eric swerved toward the green boat, just yards away. Ryan concentrated down his sight and squeezed off three shots. To his surprise, the man with the rifle tumbled over the side of the boat.

"Nice shot!" Now, go for the fuel tank, in the rear."

Ryan stared down his sights again and prepared to fire. But just as he was going to squeeze the trigger. Delko yanked the boat to a stop. "Why did you stop?"

"We're too close to the highway bridge."

Ryan looked up, and saw the green boat speeding toward the highway bridge. It was the same one that had collapsed when a boat hit it earlier in the year.

Eric fired the boat engine again and took off. "We'll get him on the other side."

Petersen looked back from his boat. They had stopped. Maybe the COPS had run out of gas. Wait, here they came again, taking a different angle. "Damn."

He turned back to the front, but quickly realized he should have been paying attention to his driving.

Eric drove hard under the bridge to get ahead of Petersen, but then he yanked the boat to a stop and watched in horror. Petersen wasn't watching where he was going. Just as the blonde man turned back to the front of the boat, it plowed into the support structure of the bridge at full speed, bursting into a ball of flame.

–14–

Calleigh walked into the waiting room just outside the emergency ward at Mount Sinai Medical Center. Eric and Ryan were sitting on a couch. They both looked totally exhausted.

"Hey boys."

Eric opened his eyes. "Hey Calleigh!"

"You guys all right?"

"Yeah, a little worn out, but fine."

"How's Horatio?"

"Mad," Ryan said.

"What, why?"

Ryan smiled as he answered. "He ruined his favorite suit and lost his sunglasses."

The three CSIs shared a big laugh.

Eric broke the laughter. "Actually, he's got a mild concussion and a couple of cracked ribs. Doc says he's gonna be here for a day or so."

Calleigh's lips curled into an evil grin. "Cool, let's go move that ugly couch out of his office."

They laughed again. "What did you find out," Eric asked.

Calleigh sat down across from them. "I test fired the Infinity. It's a definite match. The blood on the jersey also belonged to the victim. So it's pretty open and shut. The guy that Ryan shot survived, even though Ryan got him full in the chest–nice shot by the way."

Ryan managed a tired smile.

"Anyway, Tripp's been talking to him in his hospital room. Turns out Merlita was tired of the scam. They'd been getting a lot of calls about the overcharge, people were catching on. He wanted to stop and tell his dad. Petersen didn't want that. Him and Sean Riggins went to intimidate him. Riggins, the man you shot off the boat, Ryan, was just the driver. Apparently, Petersen told him that Merlita wouldn't change his mind about ending the scam and coming clean, so Petersen killed him, and took the slips. The ridge detail on the door and the on the slip matched the prints I pulled off the gun. They're collecting bits and pieces of Petersen, so maybe we'll be able to confirm they're his, but I"m pretty sure they are."

Eric leaned back in the couch. "Wow. Amazing what a little charge card scam can do to you."

Calleigh walked over and yanked Delko off the couch. "Come on, Mr. Speed boat, lets get some dinner."

"Alright, fine." Eric got up. "What about Ryan?"

Calleigh grinned. "Ryan's a big boy. He can find his way home."

Eric shook his head. "Okay, later Wolfe."

Ryan watched, shocked, as Calleigh and Eric left the waiting room. He didn't feel like he'd ever be a part of the team. Then another figure appeared in the doorway. He smiled when he recognized Valera. He hadn't seen her out of her lab coat before. She looked striking in a tan silk blouse and black slacks.

"Relax," she said. "I told them I was going to take you home."

Ryan grinned and stood up. "Gee, thanks Valera."

"Well, you still owe me fifty bucks from our counseling session earlier. However, if you treat me to dinner and tell me about Horatio falling out of the boat we'll call it even."

Ryan smiled and escorted Valera from the waiting room. "You got yourself a deal."

The END

Author's Notes...

Again, some forensic processes have been shortened...blah, blah, blah.

I know the numbers on the bucket experiment don't work out. However, that is based on Weber Metro CSI case, so it has been done.

I used Lonely Planet's "Miami & the Keys" travel guide in research for this fic.

My picking on Ryan's clothes is all in good fun.