Swan Song

by Deb3

21st in the Fearful Symmetry series. An accident for Calleigh and Rosalind plants the team in the middle of trying to prevent a murder before it occurs.

4. Chapter 4

Swan Song Chapter 4

A/N: I am not at all knowledgeable about jewelry, but I do know a jewelry store owner who has been in the business for decades, and the info in that subplot of this story has the jewelry store owner seal of approval. He, of course, doesn't engage in criminal activity on the side, but any errors here are made in good faith and after efforts to avoid them.

A/N 2: Healing through music programs are real all over the country, and the effects of them are thoroughly proven.

Musical Notes: Not While I'm Around is by Stephen Sondheim and comes from the musical Sweeney Todd, a very strange musical that does, however, have beautiful music. There Will Be Rest is an a cappella piece, music by Frank Ticheli, words by Sara Teasdale. Poignant, hauntingly beautiful piece. Absolutely seamless sound; it should come across as if the choir never once throughout the piece takes a breath. As Brian would say, "Breathe at home."

(H/C)

"Nothing's gonna harm you,

Not while I'm around."

Not While I'm Around, Stephen Sondheim

(H/C)

Horatio pulled up to Hermann's Jewelry. It was a beehive of activity, the seeming chaos of a crime scene that, like a beehive, actually was a model of organization, each participant knowing his function in the whole. Horatio entered carefully, staying on the marked cleared path through the store that all officers walked on to keep the disturbance of any evidence to a minimum. Chris stood from behind the counter. "H. Glad you got here." He glanced quickly at his watch but did not say anything. Traffic was light at this hour, but his call to Horatio had been made a good 45 minutes previously. Delayed response to a call to action was totally unlike Horatio.

"I made a quick stop first." Horatio answered the unspoken thought. "There's a woman who might be involved in all this – as potential victim. I drove by her house and took a walk around it to make sure everything was okay. All peaceful, all doors and windows secure. They hadn't been there. It'll be light shortly, and I did ask for a squad car to take a drive down that street regularly on patrol until then."

"And you were here yesterday," Chris added. "So if you're ahead of the perps for once, tell me what's going on here."

"I'm not sure yet," Horatio replied. "The person who knows most about it is in a coma. He was in an accident with Calleigh Monday night and gave her some message about a mistake and his sister's life being in danger. He works here, and he'd given his sister a necklace for her birthday last week, so we came here yesterday to talk to the owner about the necklace. Whatever tipped the brother off happened at a jewelry conference upstate, so I thought the jewelry connection was the obvious starting point."

"What did the owner say?" Chris glanced back at the area behind the counter, even though the body had been removed already.

"He was terrified, too scared to be paying attention to us. The topic of the necklace didn't seem to bother him, but something certainly was." Horatio's eyes swept the jewelry store like radar. The cases and displays had been emptied out with everything swept impatiently onto the floor. Boxes behind the counter had been opened and turned upside down. CSIs were carefully fingerprinting the cases. "This isn't just robbery. Too much valuable is left. They were looking for something."

"And don't seem to have found it," Chris agreed.

Horatio nodded toward the security camera mounted by the door. "What does that tell us?"

Chris sighed. "Nothing."

"You mean the perps were masked?"

"No, I mean literally nothing. Mr. Hermann turned the cameras off himself. They weren't recording at all."

Horatio studied the door. "I suppose the alarm also wasn't set?"

"Right. He probably let them in. He was certainly expecting them. Look at this." Horatio walked carefully around the counter. "After he let them in, he came around here, in the back by the file cabinets. They had a discussion, and he was shot. The perps turned the store inside out after that."

Horatio eyed the paperwork strewn near where the body had been. "He was looking through paperwork when Calleigh and I arrived yesterday. Frantically looking through it."

"What kind of paperwork?"

"I didn't get a chance to inspect it closely, but it looked like packing lists." Horatio snapped on a pair of gloves and bent to study the paperwork more thoroughly. "These are packing lists. Has this been photographed yet?" Chris nodded, and Horatio picked the top sheet up and studied it. "I wonder if any of them are missing."

"There's one thing that we know is missing, H."

"What's that?"

Chris picked up a ledger book from one side. "He kept a handwritten log of pieces sold, as well as whatever computer records he had. Probably didn't trust the computer. Some older people don't."

"They can malfunction." Horatio looked at the computer, which had been smashed in frustration. "Did you print that? Might be a tool mark, too, from whatever smashed it." Chris gave him a wounded look. "Sorry, of course you did. What about the handwritten ledger, Chris?"

Chris flipped to the last page. "This one ends on the last day of September. Where's the next one?"

Horatio replaced his packing list carefully in the exact position he had taken it from. "Are there others before that?"

Chris nodded. "They each cover a quarter. First three quarters of this year are here; the fourth one is missing. This guy was obviously fanatical about written records. I can't see him letting it go for almost half a month."

"So let's see what we've got," Horatio mused. "The perps came to the store late. When was the camera turned off?"

"10:30 p.m."

"We need to be sure to look at the hours before that. It might tell us something about the owner's movements, if not the perps. The owner was here working late, looking for something and also expecting them. Let's say he was looking for the necklace Sam gave to Sarah. He had been gone all last week; whatever the mistake was probably happened then, when Sam and the other assistant were running the store. The perps came, and he let them in. He tried to explain that he didn't have the necklace here, and they didn't buy it, killed him, then turned the store upside down themselves looking for it. They downloaded the data from the computer, smashed it so no one could recover it or just out of frustration, took the new ledger book, and bolted. When was the crime reported?"

"2:00 a.m. An officer on patrol spotted the light in back. Once he got close enough to look, he saw the mess."

"No lights in front?"

"No. The perps must have turned them out themselves. So you think this necklace is what they're after?"

"Yes," said Horatio. "Although it didn't seem to bother the owner yesterday when we mentioned it. It was like he was looking for something else. In fact, he said Sam had bought the necklace a few weeks ago." His eyes sharpened up suddenly, and he reached again for the third-quarter ledger book, flipping back through the pages, quickly finding what he was after. "Emerald pendant, to Sam Carpenter, employee discount. September 25th."

"Then why didn't the perps care about that book?"

Horatio closed the book triumphantly. "Because it's a different necklace. The one Sam gave Sarah also had a few small diamonds. Hermann would have called it a diamond and emerald pendant. Also, it was in a heart, and I think that would have been mentioned. Those records are pretty descriptive. Like you said, Hermann was obsessive about written records. So Sam bought a necklace for his sister a few weeks ago, and then last week, some time before Wednesday night, they got another necklace in a shipment that he liked better. He exchanged them, no doubt noting that in the current volume of the ledger. That was the mistake. Since buying the first one hadn't been any issue at all, he figured no one would object to his buying another one instead. Sarah's birthday was last week, so he couldn't wait to ask Hermann, but I'm sure he would have mentioned it to Hermann when he saw him this week. Hermann wasn't here last week when the second necklace came in. There must have been something special about that necklace that Hermann knew, and it was supposed to be held until claimed by someone. It was the packing lists Hermann was going over when I saw him; he must not have expected that shipment yet. We need to check the phone records. He probably got a call shortly before I came yesterday that they would be by to pick up the necklace last night, and that started him looking through the packing lists. Any more time involved, and he would have already been through the ledger. But when Cal and I got here, he didn't react to the mention of the necklace because at that point he thought we were talking about the first one. Later, he must have found the note in the ledger that Sam took this one. Sam is in the hospital and couldn't be asked about it. Hermann must have tried to convince the perps that he needed more time to get it back, and they didn't believe it was missing."

Chris had been following this scenario like a well-written book. As Horatio came to a stop, Chris said, "Pretty good reasoning. So all we have to do now is get the necklace and analyze it to find out why it's important enough to kill for. Have you asked the sister for the necklace?"

Horatio's expression tightened. "Yes, I have. She lost it."

(H/C)

Calleigh finished combing her wet hair and looked at her watch. It was almost time to wake Rosalind up. She went into the kitchen to survey the options for breakfast and found herself distracted by the thought of Horatio. He hadn't had breakfast and no doubt wouldn't take time on the case. She should take him something. Horatio. How many years had she gone through her morning routines alone, wondering and even worrying about what he was doing apart from her, whether he was taking care of himself? Now she could do something about it. Horatio was hers, even when he was out on a case. She smiled, and Hope, sensing the mood, wound through her ankles and gave a short purr. "You've been fed," Calleigh told the cat. "It's our turn now."

As if her thoughts had summoned him, the door suddenly opened, and Horatio entered the house with smooth haste. Calleigh, quickly coming into the living room at the sound of the door, stared at him. "What are you doing here?"

He handed her the keys. "Bringing you the Hummer. The car seat is in it, and Rosalind isn't going one foot without a car seat. Chris is waiting now; I'll ride on with him to CSI and get started. I can pick up one of the general CSI Hummers. Got a bullet for you later; you'll have to see Alexx."

Calleigh hadn't even considered transportation yet this morning. She gave him a quick kiss. "How efficient of you. You've thought of everything – except breakfast."

Horatio glanced back toward the door. "Chris is waiting."

"He can wait another minute." She headed briskly for the kitchen, quickly pouring a bowl of cereal. Horatio unwillingly followed her. "Here. You can eat it on the way. Chris is driving, after all."

Horatio's expression changed at the mention of driving. "Sorry to leave you alone this morning, Cal, but I have no choice. If you have any trouble with Rosalind, call me, and I'll talk to her on the cell phone." He gave her a quick one-armed hug, careful not to spill the cereal. "I don't think you will, though. You can handle it."

Four simple words, but his confidence warmed her like sunlight. "Go on, Horatio. We'll manage."

He kissed her. "I love you."

"I love you, too. And I want to keep loving you for years, so make sure you eat." He gave her a crooked smile and left the house, leaving behind a room that still radiated with the love of his presence.

(H/C)

Sarah was just backing out of her driveway for the day when a CSI Hummer pulled up in front of the house with an insistent beep. She put the car back in park and reluctantly turned it off as Horatio approached the window. "Sarah, I'm glad I caught you."

"I was just on my way to the hospital."

"That's a great idea. Stay there and stay with people. Don't go off by yourself. I've already spoken to hospital security about your brother."

She stared at him, puzzled by the new urgency in his voice. "What's happened?"

"The owner of the jewelry store has been murdered. Sarah, I can't explain all of it, but I am sure now that these people are after that necklace. We have got to find it."

Her hands flexed on the steering wheel in frustration. "I've tried thinking where I saw it last. Sorry, but it's hard to think about anything except Sam. Someone has actually been murdered over it?"

"Yes. And you're probably on the list, too, once they get that far." His words were harsh, meant to frighten her into carefulness. "I think you're safe enough in the daylight, but stay around people. Tonight, I want you to spend the night at my house, not here."

She turned defiant on him, her lips tightening stubbornly. "This is my house. This is OUR house."

"It's just temporary. We'll have this cleared up in a day or two, but until we do, you are in danger, and we know they'll kill anyone in their way. You shouldn't be here alone tonight."

"I have a few friends I could stay with," she countered.

"Unless they are trained police officers, I wouldn't advise it." He leaned into the open driver's side window, touching her arm. "Sarah, listen to me. You are in danger, and I can only protect you if you let me. Besides, if Sam wakes up and finds you dead even after his warning, what is he going to think?"

She gave him a half smile. "If only Sam would wake up." She looked at her watch, or rather at her wrist where her watch should have been. "Forgot my watch. What time is it?"

"7:30," Horatio replied. "Please, Sarah, promise me you won't go anywhere alone. And that you'll stay with me tonight."

She capitulated, realizing that she wouldn't get out of the driveway until this man had the answer he wanted. "Okay. I promise. Now, I really have to get to the hospital."

Horatio backed away half a step but still held her with the force of his presence. "Two other things." Sarah sighed. "First, I would like to have a key to this house. I'm really going over it this time. Second, I want you to make a list today of every place you've been since Sam gave you the necklace. As thorough as you can be. Okay?"

Sarah removed her house key from the key ring. "Okay."

Horatio took the key and smiled at her. "Thank you. I'll be in touch."

She had no doubt about that. As she drove away, she still couldn't decide whether to be reassured or annoyed by this man's persistence. Her idea of the police had always been an officer at a traffic stop, not Horatio Caine. She still couldn't imagine why the necklace would be important enough to put her life in danger. Maybe Sam would wake up today to tell her. Sam. Her foot pushed down a little harder on the accelerator as she headed for the hospital.

(H/C)

You can handle it, Calleigh told herself. She left the house, holding Rosalind in one arm and the diaper bag and her purse in the other. She could feel the heat of the day already closing like a vise around the city. Even for South Florida, it was unseasonably hot for October. Monday night's rain had been the only relief. "Birds!" Rosalind said suddenly, pointing at some in a tree. Calleigh smiled. Her daughter never failed to notice birds.

"That's right. That red one is a cardinal, and the other is, well, a bird." She opened the back door of the Hummer and tossed the bag into the floorboard. "Okay, Angel, let's get you strapped in." Rosalind abruptly tensed up, looking around.

"Dada?"

"He's at work, Rosalind. I told you he had to go in early. You'll see him tonight." Calleigh settled her daughter in the car seat and tried not to anticipate a battle. There was no surer way to find herself in one.

Rosalind squirmed slightly, her little hand capturing the strap as Calleigh started to pull her arm through it. "Who did straps?"

"What?" It took Calleigh a minute to track the meaning. "Oh, you mean when Dada left. He did his own, Rosalind. I'm sure he got strapped in. You'd better watch, though, to make sure I do it right. Okay?" She slipped the second arm through and buckled the straps securely.

Rosalind still seemed a little uneasy, but she wasn't fighting. "Okay." Her eyes tracked her mother like a hawk as Calleigh rounded the vehicle and climbed into the driver's seat.

Calleigh made a show of putting the seatbelt on, letting Rosalind see every move. "There we go. Are we ready, Angel?"

"Yes." Rosalind relaxed now that her mother was firmly in the vehicle with her. Her eyes went to the tree with the birds, but they were gone. "Birds gone, Mama."

"Time we were gone, too. We need to get you to daycare." Calleigh stared at the key. Horatio's voice replayed in her mind: You can handle it. She slid the key smoothly into the ignition and turned it, and the Hummer woke obediently, bridled power waiting for her command. She put it in reverse, carefully looked up and down the street, and backed out of the driveway. With Rosalind alternately singing and chirping like a bird herself in the back seat, they headed into Miami for the day.

(H/C)

Alexx was crooning softly to the body on the table when Calleigh entered the autopsy bay. Alexx's motherly attention quickly shifted targets. "Are you doing better today, honey? How's the shoulder?"

"It's fine. Feels a lot better than yesterday. Horatio gives an amazing massage." She smiled at the memory, then quickly shifted to business. "He said you had a bullet for me. Jewelry store owner."

"In just a few minutes. I'm still extracting it." Alexx returned to her task. "Whatever you knew, we'll find it out. Would have been easier to talk while you were alive," she scolded the body softly.

Calleigh grinned. "How many of them ever listen to you, Alexx?"

"That's no reason to stop trying. If it was, half the parents in America would quit." Alexx glanced up at Calleigh for a minute. "Is there any change in that man at the hospital?"

"Not yet. I called this morning to ask."

Alexx shook her head. "Coumadin does so much good for people, but it can sure complicate things when they get hurt."

"Alexx, why would he be taking it, anyway? Sarah said he had atrial fibrillation."

"You know what that is, don't you?"

"It's a rhythm disturbance in the heartbeat. I just don't see the connection between that and anticoagulants."

Alexx's hands never stopped their careful progress toward the bullet. "With atrial fibrillation, the atrium doesn't contract right. There isn't a strong electrical signal for the beat as usual; instead, there are a lot of weaker signals from many points. It makes the whole chamber quiver instead of one good contraction at each beat. Think of a river, Calleigh. When the current is strong and even, it travels right along, and the water is clear. Now think of a river with an uneven current, where it's strong in places but hardly moving at all in others, especially around the edges."

Calleigh nodded, suddenly seeing it. "The water goes stagnant where the current doesn't reach."

"Exactly. The heart chambers never totally empty out, but normally, blood moves pretty efficiently through them. In atrial fibrillation, there are some areas in the atrium where the blood is hardly being moved at all. The beat doesn't effectively pump out the heart. So the blood in those areas can start to clot, and when a clot does finally shift, it can be deadly. If it hits the lungs as a pulmonary embolus, that can kill. If it makes it into one of the coronary arteries later, that can cause a heart attack, and a clot in the brain creates a stroke. So when someone is in atrial fibrillation and can't be brought out of it, they put them on anticoagulants to keep the blood from clotting around the edges of the atrium."

"Why couldn't they bring him out of it?"

"Lots of reasons. Sometimes people can't tolerate the drugs to convert to a normal rhythm, or the drugs just don't work for them. Electrical cardioversion can only be done so many times, and it doesn't always work, either. Pacemakers are expensive and wear out regularly. If someone is young and otherwise healthy, a lot of times, they just put them on anticoagulation. He'd be taking a rate-controlling drug, too. Atrial fibrillation can get up over 200 beats per minute. Keep the rate down, and a lot of the symptoms will disappear. With it controlled, he probably led a fairly normal life."

"But he's not on Coumadin now. They reversed it for surgery, Sarah said. So isn't he at risk for a clot now?"

Alexx sighed. "There are other drugs they can use intravenously that are a bit safer, but I doubt they would with an intracranial bleed. He's got bigger worries right now than a blood clot. Ah, here we go." She pulled the bullet out triumphantly with forceps. "Little thing to be so deadly, isn't it?"

Calleigh held out the evidence bottle, and Alexx dropped it in. "Looks like a 9 mil."

"One shot to the heart. They knew what they were doing."

Calleigh tossed her hair back. "So do we." They both smiled at the echo of Horatio in her voice. "Alexx, do you think Sam has any chance of waking up without any effects and just remembering everything?"

Alexx gave her a smile. "As long as he's alive, there's always a chance."

But not a very big one, Calleigh mentally filled in the blank. She thanked Alexx and headed for Ballistics, still remembering the urgency in Sam's voice as he passed on the warning. Horatio was out there now, searching the house for the necklace, and he had already left her a message that Sarah would be staying with them tonight. They could do nothing for Sam right now, but Sarah was in good hands.

(H/C)

Tyler stared at the video screen so intently that he never heard Horatio's approach, and he jumped when his boss spoke just behind him. "What have we got?"

"He was a basket case. Going through the paperwork dozens of times, pacing back and forth, then looking through the papers again like it would change. He switched off the camera himself, like Chris said."

"What about the phone records from the store?"

Tyler pulled a printout over. "There was one incoming call about 15 minutes before you got there yesterday. It leads back to a hotel."

Horatio followed Tyler's finger on the printout. "The same hotel and convention center where the jewelry conference is."

"Right. This isn't a room, though. One of their lobby phones."

Horatio gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Nice work, Tyler. Is Speed working on those prints?"

"And grumbling about it. They're all jumbled. People always have to touch a clear case to look at what's inside, and this man obviously hadn't cleaned them that day. The perps probably wore gloves anyway."

"Probably," Horatio agreed. "I'll have Eric fax a list of the conference attendees, and I want you to start background checks. Speed can help you when he gets done with the prints. Eric is coming back tonight, and tomorrow morning, we'll have that picture he found to process. We know a perp touched that and probably without gloves. Keep me posted."

"Right, H." Tyler turned, but Horatio was already gone, as soundlessly as he had entered.

(H/C)

"So there's no sign of the necklace," Calleigh said.

"None. I'd swear it isn't in that house."

"That only leaves Miami."

Horatio grinned at her tone. "Oh, come on, Cal, we can narrow it down to at least half of Miami."

"We'd better narrow it down further than that. The bullet isn't leading us anywhere. Not in the database."

Horatio pulled the Hummer up to an apartment building. "Let's hope we get something here." This was where the other assistant at the jewelry store lived. Horatio had called without much hope, having already been told that he was rafting down the Colorado River this week. To his surprise, his wife had answered, and they were on their way now to see if she remembered anything odd about last week.

The woman who opened the apartment door was small, Hispanic, and tired, with a weariness that went beyond temporary fatigue to her state of life in general. "Mrs. Delgado?" Horatio asked silkily.

She nodded and swung the door wide, letting them in. "Paulo isn't here."

"I realize that, but we were hoping you might be able to help us." He smiled at her. "He's on vacation, right? I would have expected you to go along."

"He took our son. We were hoping the trip would be good for him. Just time with his father."

Calleigh glanced at a picture on the wall. The faces told everything. Tired mother, worried but uncomprehending father, and rebellious young adolescent. Horatio's eyes followed hers, and his head tilted as he weighed Paulo Delgado's face. The expression reminded him of a few employees he had known over the years. Steady, reliable, but not very intelligent and without initiative. They had never lasted long at CSI. His mind was already recasting the case. This was a man who, unlike Sam, would take orders without questioning or thinking about them, even if he didn't understand why. "Mrs. Delgado, we're interested in anything unusual that happened last week, while Mr. Hermann was on vacation. Your husband was in charge of the store last week, right? Sam had only been there four months."

She nodded. "Sam was new. Yes, Paulo did everything."

"Did he mention anything unusual?"

She shook her head. "He didn't talk about his work with me."

Horatio switched tactics. Asking her a general question would get nowhere. "Did he tell you anything out of the ordinary on Monday night? Try to think back." She shook her head. "Tuesday? Wednesday?" The countdown stopped there. Sam had given Sarah the necklace Wednesday night. It had to have come on one of those three days.

Mrs. Delgado's head came up slightly at the mention of Wednesday. "Was there something Wednesday night, Mrs. Delgado?" Horatio's voice was gentle but persistent. Calleigh had melted into the background. Horatio obviously had the better chance at getting information from this woman; Calleigh was already getting impatient with her just listening.

"Not at the store."

"What, then? With your son?"

She chewed her lip for a minute, then nodded. "Luis was in a fight at school. They called Paulo to come down to the school."

Horatio was careful to keep his voice steady. "And he left the store to go there?" She nodded. "How long was he gone, Mrs. Delgado?"

"All afternoon. When he and Luis came home, he was angry. He almost canceled the trip, but we thought it might help."

Horatio and Calleigh looked at each other. Sam, the new employee, had been alone in the store half the day Wednesday. "Do you know if a shipment of jewelry came in Wednesday morning?"

She shrugged. "He didn't say. He didn't discuss work with me."

Horatio recognized the end of the road. He handed her a card. "Mrs. Delgado, when you hear from your husband, as soon as he can get to a phone, have him call me. Okay? Thank you."

Outside in the Hummer, Calleigh turned to face him. "The necklace had to come in Wednesday. You think there was something that Paulo knew about the shipments that Sam didn't?"

"Yes. Obviously, Hermann wasn't new to whatever he was doing. My guess, he was assisting smuggling or money laundering or something, but he was just a middle man, in way over his head. We're working on getting his financial records. But this was probably a repeated scenario, where things would come in that he would hold for someone to pick up. Hardly every day, but I'm sure it had happened before. That thing about turning off the cameras sounds like a routine. I imagine he told Paulo something like, any package that has the H in Hermann's Jewelry underlined is personal, and if you ever see that, you put it aside to be dealt with by me. Paulo would have just accepted that. Hermann never would have thought that Sam would be processing a shipment in alone, although Sam had probably helped with it enough by now that when Paulo left, he told him to just finish. Paulo would have been preoccupied with his son then. He wouldn't have thought of looking at the rest of the packages before he left."

Calleigh sighed. "Seems that everybody in this case is either dead or in a coma or rafting down the Colorado River. Why can't we actually talk to somebody?"

Horatio smiled at her. "You're forgetting Sarah. We can talk to Sarah all evening. She's staying with us, after all."

"Lot of good that will do," Calleigh protested. "She doesn't know anything." She stared out the window at the passing traffic for a minute, then shifted her thoughts to a more productive channel. "Horatio?"

"Mmm hmm?"

"What kind of car do you think we should look at when we go car shopping this weekend?"

(H/C)

Sarah sat by Sam's bed and alternated between wracking her brain and kicking herself mentally. The list for Horatio was on her lap, a complete list of where she had been, or as complete as she could make it. She had probably forgotten something. Just like she had forgotten to charge the cell phone before going shopping and then to rehearsal Monday. Just like she had forgotten her watch this morning. Just like she had lost the necklace.

All her life, she had been absentminded. It was a family joke, something Sam would tease her gently about, but it had never mattered until now. If he had been able to reach her on the cell Monday, he wouldn't have been driving frantically through the rain. He wouldn't have been in an accident. He wouldn't have been lying here in the ICU.

"What was the mistake?" she asked him. "Was it me not charging the cell phone? Or did you do something yourself?" She doubted it. He had his faults, but he was the organized one. Their mother had once joked that they would together make one perfect person. He was everything she was not, and vice versa.

Sam didn't respond. He hadn't responded yet to anything she had done. She touched his hand lightly, careful of the IV, and resumed thinking of where she had been. What was she forgetting?

After almost two complete days sitting here, yesterday and today, the sounds of the ICU had sorted themselves out to her. She had always been sensitive to sound, unconsciously noting the auditory signature of any place. The footsteps of each of the nurses by now were distinct and familiar. The hushed voices of relatives and friends of the other patients came and went. To her left was a teenager who had been in some sort of accident herself and had multiple fractures and internal injuries. She was awake and did not want to be, for being awake only meant pain, yet there was no sleep without the haziness of the drugs, and she fought that as well. Sarah had listened for two days as she lay there, trying to be brave, yet the grunt at every slight shift in the bed, the quiet sniffling in the brief moments when her mother had left spoke volumes. Even the drugged sleep was restless. What she really wanted was to have her life back, for things to be normal again. Sarah ached with empathy.

In the cubicle to her right was a man. No one had come to see him. Only the nurses entered his space, and his sullen response to their ministrations almost made it seem their fault that he was where he was. There were others, too, cubicles all around the circumference of the ICU, but those two were the ones she heard constantly. Her neighbors in calamity, she thought of them. And there were the nurses, all of whom she knew by name now. To deal with this every day, all day, even with the patients who were ungrateful and resisting, to see many of them fail and die after you had shared in their battle – no pay on earth would alone be sufficient compensation for this job.

Sarah admired them, but she only wanted out of here. She spoke to Sam again, a soft promise. "I'm not leaving without you. I'll be here every day, as long as it takes." He didn't respond.

A hesitant tap against the open door of Sam's cubicle startled her, and she turned. "Maria. What are you doing here?"

Maria edged into the room with the step of somebody who knew hospitals far too well and hated them. "I had a treatment today, and I thought I'd come down to check on you afterwards. How is he?"

Sarah sighed. "No change. He just lies there."

"What about your job? Do they mind you being here?"

Sarah gave a half smile that quickly died. "I took this whole week off as vacation. Can you believe that? This is a vacation." She looked back at the hospital bed. She had taken the time off originally to make it easier on herself because it was pre concert week, knowing how tired she was by the end of the week with those nightly rehearsals. It never hit her during rehearsal, but afterwards, especially by Friday, she was dead on her feet. Singing was far more strenuous than most people imagined.

Maria came over and wrapped her in a hug as response, saying nothing. Sarah gave her a watery smile as they finally split apart. "Thanks."

"Come to rehearsal tonight if you can. It'll do you good. I know it's kept me sane through the rough weeks."

Sarah nodded. "I was planning on it. They'll probably chase me out again anyway. The nurses won't let me sit here 24 hours a day."

"He's not alone. They're right here, even at night."

"I know." Sarah looked back at Sam. "I don't think he even knows when I'm here anyway. I've done everything, Maria. Talked to him, lectured him, pleaded with him. He doesn't respond to anything. He just lies there."

"Have you tried singing to him?"

Sarah looked startled. "In the hospital? I'd disturb the others."

Maria shook her head. "Remember the healing through music program? Several people in the choir are in it. They go through hospitals regularly singing, and it's amazing. People's pain levels go down, people fighting to breathe get air more easily. They've seen some incredible things. You've heard them talk. No one complains."

Sarah glanced around. "But we're in the ICU."

Maria grinned at her. "I wouldn't recommend Hey Nonny, Nonny. Seriously, they sing through the ICU, too. Gentle songs. Everyone rests a little easier. Maybe Sam would hear you if you sing."

Sarah remembered the stories, now that she thought about it. And God only knew how many times music had salvaged one of her days, rehearsal totally turning it around. There were even times she had felt that she was starting to get sick, had been to a rehearsal that night, and three hours later, had felt totally cured, and the cure stayed with her through the following days. Healing through music.

Maria gave her arm a squeeze and then started softly, her other arm propping herself up against the doorframe because her legs were getting shaky beneath her, but her voice was strong.

"There will be rest and sure stars shining

Over the rooftops crowned with snow."

Sarah joined in, second soprano meshing with first alto in perfect harmony.

"A reign of rest, serene forgetting,

The music of stillness, holy and low."

The sounds of the ICU hushed as they sang, voices fading into surprised and then appreciative silence. They finished the song and looked around startled to find an audience. Heads of relatives and friends were sticking out of cubicles; the nurses had stopped their rounds just to stand for a minute. In the cubicle to the left, the teenaged girl's mother stood in the door smiling at them. Sarah listened for a grumble from the cubicle to the right but heard none. She turned quickly to look back at Sam, and her spirits fell again. He lay there silent, pale, and still. Nothing had changed.

Maria squeezed her arm again. "Keep trying, Sarah. I've got to go rest a few hours, but I'll see you tonight."

"Thank you. See you then." Sarah didn't turn away from Sam. It hadn't worked. Why couldn't he hear her? He had always enjoyed hearing her sing.

A hand touched her shoulder softly, and she turned to see the mother of the girl to the left. "Thank you so much," the mother said. "Come here. Look at this." Sarah followed her into the next cubicle and stopped in the door, afraid to fracture the moment. The girl was asleep. Not drugged to unconsciousness, but simply asleep, the lines of pain smoothed out of her face, her breathing deep and easy. "You sang her to sleep," the mother said. "She hasn't been able to just sleep since the accident. Thank you." She hugged Sarah tightly, and Sarah hugged her back, suddenly feeling a little better for having helped someone. But why couldn't she have helped Sam?

(H/C)

"Right here," Horatio directed, and Sarah swung the car into the driveway of the house. "I'll open the garage. I want your car inside tonight." He hopped out to open the garage door as Calleigh swung the Hummer into the driveway behind them. Sarah pulled her car on into the garage and got out. Horatio didn't open the house, though. "Hang on a second. Before we go in, we're searching this car. Give me a hand here, Cal." Calleigh, having freed Rosalind from her seat, came into the garage, pulling the door down behind them.

Rosalind ran to Horatio. She had been quite alertly keeping an eye on him all the way home while he was riding in that strange car ahead of them. "Dada!"

He swooped her up and held her for a minute. "I'm fine, Rosalind. I was right in front of you."

"She knew it, too. I don't think she took her eyes off that car," Calleigh commented. She went to the passenger's side. "I'll take this side, Horatio."

"Fine. I'll take the other." He set Rosalind back down. "Stand there for a minute and watch us, okay, Angel?"

Right, Sarah thought. Telling a child that age to just stand still and let something else be the focus of attention. Rosalind surprised her, though. As Horatio and Calleigh searched the car with professional thoroughness, Rosalind was rooted to the spot, her head slightly tilted, watching them with interest. With her silky blonde hair, she looked like a little cherub, but the eyes were startlingly adult at the moment. Sarah thought it would have been more appropriate to hand her a microscope than a doll.

Her parents finished searching the car in under ten minutes, turning up several things from under the seats but none of them a necklace. "Find it, Dada?" Rosalind asked as Horatio shut the car door.

He picked her up again. "No, I didn't, Angel. We'll find it before long, though."

Calleigh was unlocking the door from the garage into the house. "Let's find it after we eat. You two have to get going to the rehearsal."

"I still think it's ridiculous for you to have to come, too," Sarah protested as they entered the house.

"It will probably take me three hours to look all around that church auditorium. It's a place you've been, Sarah. You might have dropped it there." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Besides, I like music. Trust me, I won't be bored."

Actually, the idea of rehearsal being considered boring hadn't even occurred to her. "I mean, you've got your family and your life here. I could get a ride home with someone, and I'll be with a group. Nothing's going to happen to me at rehearsal."

"That's right, it's not," Horatio said firmly. Sarah sighed. "The bathroom is down the hall to the right, guest room first door to the left." He took Rosalind back into the nursery as Calleigh started preparations in the kitchen.

Sarah wandered across the living room, then turned, drawn magnetically by the piano. She ran an appreciative hand over the polished wood. "Do you play?"

"Horatio does. I don't," Calleigh told her.

"This is a beautiful piano. It's pretty old, isn't it? I'll bet it has a neat history." Sarah ran a scale up and down, testing the feel of the keys.

"Piano!" Rosalind called firmly. She trotted back down the hall to the living room with Horatio in pursuit. "Dada's piano. No!" she scolded.

"It's okay," Horatio laughed, picking his daughter up. "I don't mind people who appreciate it."

"Dada's piano," Rosalind insisted.

Sarah laughed herself as she backed away from the keys, and for the first time, she felt at ease with the Caine family.

(H/C)

Horatio's first action on arriving at the church, after seeing Sarah safely into the auditorium and the group, was to hunt up the custodian. "Nope, haven't seen a necklace," the old man replied. "We've got a lost and found, though. I'll keep an eye out."

"How many people are through here in the week?"

"Well, tonight's Wednesday, so there's activities. Church members are in the chapel this week, because the choir is in the auditorium. So a couple of hundred people tonight, besides the group. Other than Wednesday, it's pretty quiet, 'specially late at night. Hardly anyone around. I have to stay to lock up, but outside of maybe the pastor or somebody, I won't see a soul outside of the choir. Course, they aren't usually here all week, just Tuesdays, normally."

"Has the auditorium been thoroughly cleaned since Monday night? Vacuumed and such?"

The custodian shook his head. "I do it Friday nights, usually. That way, everything's fresh for Sunday morning."

"Thank you. I'll just have a look around the auditorium myself during rehearsal."

"Hope you find it." The custodian settled back in his chair in the break room and picked up a book.

Horatio slipped into the auditorium from the back and started systematically working down one side, getting all the way down to the carpet level, scanning the whole floor, including under each pew. If the choir spotted him, they gave no sign. Sarah had said she would explain his presence, as well as asking if anyone had seen her necklace.

The speed and efficiency of his search never altered, but as he worked, Horatio found himself caught up in the music. This group was beyond good. He wondered if he could still buy tickets for Saturday's concert for all three of them. Rosalind would love this.

The music stopped as Horatio came around the aisle, switching to the next row down, and he looked up to see the conductor heading across toward the thermostat on the wall. "Is it just me, or is anyone else in here hot?"

"I like to think so," a soprano replied instantly, and the entire group dissolved into howls of laughter. Horatio was grinning to himself as he continued his hunt. The merriment continued for a few minutes, then stopped, almost as if on cue.

When he rounded the next aisle, dropping down a row, he noticed that a silver-haired man had taken over the conducting, and as the next piece started, the words leaped out to Horatio, reminding him instantly and strongly of Calleigh.

"When the sun rises to shine on our love . . ."

Horatio paused in his search to listen all the way through that one, down to the ending.

"And the horizon of love still remains."

Perfect, he thought. Absolutely perfect. Someone in love had written that. He abruptly recalled his mission and continued scouting, still keeping his ears on the music while his eyes were on the floor.

At one point, the choir went on a brief break, and when Horatio came back to the aisle that time, the conductor was waiting there for him. Horatio stood up, expecting a question about his search, but the man surprised him. "You noticed my choir." It wasn't a question; Brian couldn't conceive of anyone not noticing them. Nor was he taking personal credit for their success. Instead, the gleam in his eyes reminded Horatio of a child at Christmas, staring at the perfect toy and unable to quite accept that it really was his.

"Yes, I noticed them," Horatio replied.

Brian instantly went analytical. "I'm missing my usual test audience person. How was the balance? Could you understand the words? Any general impressions?"

Horatio was fascinated. He had only run into the combination of hyperactive technical perfectionist a few times in his life, but this was obviously a prime specimen of it. "The balance was perfect. I was especially impressed on the crescendos and decrescendos. It was like turning volume up and down on a stereo, everyone absolutely aligned, like one voice of eight parts. No loose ends sticking out. The sections balance out well; you could always track each one. No part overpowered; no part faded. The enunciation was very well done. Every word carried, even to the back. It was marvelous."

Brian relaxed. "Thank you." He spun abruptly, raising his voice. "Choir. Come on back. Miles to sing before we sleep." As if he were the Pied Piper, the group came to him, gathering again on the platform, all eyes focused. Horatio caught Sarah's expression. The worry lines were still there to some extent, but the absolute, intense focus dominated. The music started, and he could clearly see her concentration, feel her physical effort, and be warmed by her smile. To be able to do this with a group of 60 other people who all cared just as much about it as she did was a gift. He completely understood why she would look forward to three hours of this every night approaching a concert.

He dropped to his knees again and entered the next pew, continuing the search. His eyes missed nothing, and there were a few items he found, the flotsam and jetsam that remains in any place after a large group of people has vacated it, but nothing even started to resemble an emerald and diamond necklace. It wasn't there. Horatio hissed sharply under his breath in frustration. "Where is that thing?" The music continued, but it held no answers.