Title: Unknown

Chapter 6

Author's Notes: Once again, Speed's logic is flawed. He doesn't see Mark for who he is or his situation for what it is.

-----

I can't see any way for this to turn out all right.

Calleigh, H, and I stand in the trace lab as if we're all frozen. I should say something to H. Apologize. Try to explain myself. But what good will it do? He's caught me in an ornate, complex lie. If I'm lucky, I'll get days off for this. At the very least, I'll be written up for an unauthorized absence.

Then again, he could fire me.

After a few moments, Calleigh takes a step forward and puts a hand protectively on my back. "Horatio," she says, "I—"

"The Donahue's are expecting us," H says quietly, "So let's . . . let's go."

"H," I manage to croak out.

He gazes at me. "It's all right."

I can tell by the tone of H's voice that it's not all right. He sounds disappointed, exhausted, and hurt.

Part of me wants to tell H everything, to tell him about Mark and the fights and how depressed I've been lately. I mean, I hate for H to think I'm some slacker that gets into knock-down-drag-outs at a bar and then lies about it. But what would I say? That my boyfriend and I fight a lot? So what? Lots of people fight.

As I move to follow H, Calleigh reaches out and grabs my hand. She squeezes it encouragingly, and then lets it go.

Exhaling, I trudge behind Horatio, my legs like lead.

Glancing at me, he says quietly, "DNA says that the black hair we found on Brendan is female."

"What about the scrapings from Brendan's nails?" I ask, my voice sounding hollow.

"Nothing yet. DNA is swamped."

Horatio strides forward, tugging at his bottom lip.

I hate this. Horatio deserves better than my lies.

As H and I climb into the Hummer, I clear my throat. "H," my voice breaks, "I wasn't truthful with you about why I called off."

"I know," Horatio says evenly.

"I'm sorry, H," I muster.

H lets out a haggard breath. "So am I," he says wearily. As he starts the Hummer, H turns to me. "Look, Speed," he says, "For whatever reason, you felt like you had to lie to me." He fixes his eyes on the road in front of him. "And I think that's a shame."

Ouch.

"Well, the thing is," I say weakly, "I did go to the ER, just not for the reasons I said."

"All right," H says steadily, "I want to make sure I'm up to speed. You called off because you have a bruise on your arm."

I lick my bottom lip. "Well, I was at the ER all night. In the morning, I was dead on my feet."

He nods. "You were in the ER all night for a bruise on your arm."

Swallowing, I say, "Actually, I cut my other arm. I had to get stitches," Unbuttoning my sleeve, I hold my bandaged limb up.

H glances at my arm, and then returns his eyes to the road. "All right. Now we're getting somewhere. This happened during a bar fight?"

"I was in a bar," I lie, my voice trembling, "It was just an argument, really. Things boiled over."

Wow. My life is spiraling out of control. I've gone from one lie to another at break-neck speed. Now, H thinks I'm hitting the bars at night, getting into fistfights. But what can I do? Mark is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I can't risk losing him.

"Speed," H says hesitantly, "Were you picked up?"

"Picked up?"

H bites his bottom lip. "Did a police officer pick you up? Maybe they granted you a professional courtesy, didn't book you? You didn't want me to find out about it?"

"It wasn't like that," I say.

Nodding, H carefully asks, "Have you been drinking?"

"No," I say sharply.

"Look, Speed, I want to help you."

"I haven't been drinking," I reiterate.

We drive in silence for about five minutes. Finally, H takes in a deep breath. "Speed, are you using drugs?"

Suddenly, my chest begins to tighten, and my cheeks begin to burn. What the hell? Why does he assume that I've done something wrong? Clenching my jaw, I snap, "No, H. I'm not on drugs."

"Look, Speed," he says softly, "I can't help you if you don't trust me."

"I don't need your help," I spit venomously, "I was tired, all right? I'm exhausted. I want to go to sleep. Is that so wrong?" I punch the dashboard with my already-black-and-blue arm. "Why can't I sleep?" Blinking hard, I feel a tear escape my eye.

H places a hand on my shoulder. "It's all right," he says, squeezing my shoulder tight, "Listen. We are going to talk about this some more. All right?"

"I don't need your help," I mutter vainly.

-----

Maggie Donahue is a petite blonde. She's pretty in a fragile way.

Right now, she's sitting on the couch beside her mother, her arms crossed tightly. She's wearing a long-sleeved pink silk shirt, and her eyes are puffy from crying.

"I know this is hard," H says softly, "But anything you can tell us would help."

"We were all at my sister's house that night," Maggie's father, who's sitting on the ottoman of a leather easy chair, says dreamily, "What if Maggie had been with him?"

"Well, thank God she wasn't," H says, "Maggie, do you know anyone who would hurt Brendan?"

"No," she sputters. Then she says quietly, "Brendan was so sweet. He had flowers sent to the lunch room. Isn't that nice?"

"Yes, it is," H says, "Has he seemed preoccupied or worried about anything?'

"He was the best thing that ever happened to me," Maggie says distractedly.

Leaning forward, Maggie's mother says, "Brendan was acting like he always did. I don't know," she shrugs.

Maggie's father stands up and crosses his arms just like Maggie. "He wasn't the kind of kid who did drugs or ran with undesirables." He cocks his head. "He drank once in a while, but never too much."

"Did anyone pick on him in school?" H asks.

"Oh, no," Mr. Donahue says, "He wasn't one to shrink away from a fight. If anyone had tried to pick on him, Brendan would have taken care of it."

"How so?" I ask.

Mr. Donahue looks at me strangely, probably because this is the first thing I've said since H and I got here. "Well," he explains, "He was nice guy, but he didn't let anybody push him around."

"So, he smacked people around?" I say cynically.

"I didn't say that," Mr. Donahue says, "He just wasn't a wimp."

I shake my head. "So, if a guy doesn't beat on someone, he's a wimp?"

"I didn't say that either," Mr. Donahue says defensively. He glances at H.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see H giving me a look. I guess I can add this little exchange to the list of things H and I are going to talk about.

"Well," H says, standing up, "Thank you all for your time. You have my card if any of you remember anything."

"Yes," Mr. Donahue says formally, "Of course."

-----

Once outside, H turns to me. "All right, that was uncalled for."

"I was just trying to solve a murder," I say caustically.

H puts his hand on his hips. "Well, attacking a witness isn't the way to do it."

Glowering at H, I half-laugh. "At least I didn't ask him if the kid was on drugs."

I'm digging myself in deeper, but I don't care. I've lied to H a lot lately, and I deserve to be reprimanded for it. I admit that. But it really stung that H thought I was on drugs.

Okay, granted, I have been secretive lately. But my personal life is none of anyone's business. I don't go asking what H and his sister-in-law do behind closed doors. Or why Calleigh puts up with her drunk of a father.

Besides, what if they found how Mark and I fight? Or that I, a man, a trained police officer, can't protect myself?

I couldn't live with the shame.

"Look," H says, leaning against the Hummer, "I'm sorry I accused you. But I've trying to figure out what's going on with you."

"Well," I say casually, "You can relax. I'm good."

"I've been watching you slip away for weeks."

I glare at him. "I'm not your brother, H," I say coldly.

The moment the words leave my mouth, I take a step back. I know H would never hit me, even for saying something so out of line. But still.

Angrily tossing the keys to the Hummer onto the ground, H says, "Speed, I know you're not Raymond. But you are my friend, and I care about you." Pacing, he looks up into the sky. "I should've tried harder to save my brother. But I didn't, and I lost him."

"H, I'm sorry," I say, regret seeping into my chest, "That was out of line. I don't know what's the matter with me."

He waves me off. For a moment, he doesn't say anything, but then he takes a step forward. "I'll promise you this, Speed," he says, "I'll promise you this. I'm not going to let you go without a fight."