13.
Frowning, Horatio pulled on his shirt and went to the cabin door as someone was knocking on it.
"I'm telling you that is several thousand dollars worth of paintings in that studio! They have to be protected from weather! You can't just take the door and leave them exposed like that!" A man's voice was arguing.
"Sir, it's a crime scene, at this point nothing is going to happen over there without one of us deciding if it's all right or not. You cannot tamper or mess with it, I don't care if it's full of gold from Fort Knox." Payton was saying as he entered the cabin. He looked up in time to see the pad of bandages on Horatio's side disappear as he buttoned up a blue shirt.
"Caine?" he asked sharply, looking at the redhead.
"Schell!" the stranger behind Payton asked, interrupting, "Schell? You've got to tell them what those paintings are worth! You know better than them what exposure can do!"
Schell, still visibly rattled had backed into the galley as Payton, the stranger and a sour looking Beckman filled the now crowded salon.
"What the hell is this, Caine!" Payton asked, concern sharpening his voice, as he stared him in the eyes.
"Nothing to write home about." Horatio said patiently as he buttoned his shirt. He was looking past Payton at the stranger. "All the same, one of our perps bullets probably has a piece of me on it somewhere. I've got my shirt in there for evidence." He tipped his head to indicate the bunks.
"They nailed you?" Beckman snapped.
"I wouldn't go so far as to say that." Horatio smiled, gently beginning to tuck his shirt tails in. "I just discovered it. That should tell you something." He said to Payton, with a smile.
"We should have a medic in here to examine that…" Payton started. Horatio frowned, shaking his head.
"No need, we cleaned it up," he smiled at Schell, who was desperately trying to become invisible in the galley. "Schell would you have a clean sack that we can put my shirt into?"
She nodded, and searched as Horatio looked at the stranger again.
Payton sighed in disgust, and turned slightly. "Lieutenant Caine, this is Randall Thorpe, he owns the boat, and apparently the paintings in the studio."
Horatio extended a hand, noticing Payton's reserve in introductions.
"Lieutenant?" Thorpe said in confusion as he shook hands.
"Miami-Dade PD." Beckman growled, looking for a place to sit down, he finally sat down on the steps leading into the salon.
"Miami?" Thorpe exclaimed and looked at Schell.
"Off duty." Horatio said by way of explanation. "Came here for a convention."
"And got a little bit more than you bargained for." Beckman growled.
"Carl…" Payton growled back and nearly rolled his eyes.
"Schell, the paintings…" Thorpe started.
"Mr. Thorpe…" Horatio started as Schell found a bag and sidled past all the men. She handed it to Horatio then sat down on the starboard settee. "We understand your concern regarding the paintings, but I really think you should shift your focus to the painter."
"What!" Thorpe snapped.
"Mr. Thorpe," Payton said with a weary patience. "Somebody in the last four days has twice tried to kill 'your' painter, and you're concerned about the paintings?" he turned and looked at the man, causing Horatio to duck his head, smiling in mirth. He turned then, retrieved his bloodied shirt, carefully folded it and slipped it into the bag.
"Well I…" Thorpe started and was stopped by Payton raising his hand.
"Can the explanation. If you want to do something about it, get a hold of a contractor who can give you a new door on less than a days' notice, tell the lab techs over at the studio that I said you could replace the door, because that door is going back to the labs with us. As for the studio, it's still considered a crime scene so you do not have permission to take or remove anything. All you can do is have the door replaced. Am I clear?"
"Yes but…" Thorpe started to protest.
"Do what you can…" Payton said clearly dismissing the man and nodding at Beckman to get up to let the man out. "Now if you don't mind, I have some official business to take of with 'your' painter and the Lieutenant."
"But…"
"Mr. Thorpe," Payton said with a touch of warning. Thorpe looked disgusted, and appealed to Schell.
"Schell, tell them about those paintings!"
Payton shooed Thorpe to leave as Horatio, glad to let the Seattle Captain take the lead on the case, sat down next to her on the settee, where he rested his arms and laced his fingers together on the table top.
Ushering Thorpe out, with protests, Payton finally returned, shutting the cabin door.
"Carl, make yourself useful, get a pot of coffee going for us, if you don't mind?" Payton looked at Schell inquiringly. She nodded assent. The Captain sat down on the nav station chair and looked at the pair on the settee.
"Thorpe's gonna have a whale of time getting someone in there to replace a door, I don't care how much money he has," he said with mirth then he smiled. "Well this has been a helluva morning!"
"Amen to that." Horatio said and looked at Schell, with a slight smile.
"What I want to know is, how did Thorpe find out about this shooting so fast?" Beckman growled from the galley. Horatio blinked a few times, and looked at Payton, who was pulling out his notebook.
"That's an interesting question," Horatio commented, looking at Schell, an eyebrow raised in inquiry.
"I never called him. Not at this hour in the morning." She said quietly as Payton glanced at her.
"Phone records will verify that." Beckman said.
"Sure," she said and looked wearily at Horatio. He smiled, reaching over to squeeze her hand in reassurance.
"Captain, you might be interested in knowing that I wrote up both of our statements on her computer last night, if we can print them out I'd like her to look it over, and I will sign mine concerning the events that happened on the ferry and what we discussed concerning Paul Hirsch. Any word on him yet?" Horatio asked.
"No none, and that is mighty kind of you. Sure as hell saves us having to transcribe from our notes. However, we have today to discuss." Payton said and looked inquisitively at Schell as Beckman returned to sitting on the stairs.
"I know it's been a little traumatic, Miss Demereau, but why don't you go ahead and get us started, then we can work on you," he looked at Horatio with a mischievous glance before focusing his attention on Schell.
"It's all right, just tell him what you know, everything." Horatio said, squeezing her hand again before sitting back, and watching the proceedings. He idly picked at the edges of his fingernails and listened attentively.
It was long and it was grueling, but Horatio gave high marks to the Seattle captain for his tact and diplomacy, despite Beckman glowering from the stairs. By the time Payton had finished, he had not only what Horatio had typed but several pages worth of notes from the latest event. Then he turned his questioning on to Horatio, who proceeded to give a very in-depth and detailed account of what he knew.
All this time, uniformed policemen, the occasional detective and several crime scene investigators called in on the boat, which Payton sent Beckman to deal with. During one of these pauses in questioning, Payton heard what Horatio had to say concerning Beckman's behavior and was reassured that the detective's leash was getting shortened.
Finally, as the session wound down, Payton told them to just be available to come in to the department headquarters in case they needed anything more, and reassured both Horatio and Schell that someone would be patrolling the docks, that their safety was now of utmost importance. He also verified from Horatio that he wasn't leaving Seattle for several days yet.
At last the two left. As Horatio saw them off the boat, he moved a little stiffly, unconsciously setting his hand against his side as he walked with the two men up the dock. On his return he saw that Schell hadn't moved, still sitting on the settee but with her head turned to gaze out the starboard porthole.
"You," he said as he shut the cabin door behind him. "You need something to eat."
There were dark smudges of fatigue under her eyes as she turned her gaze to him. Wearily she shook her head no. "I couldn't…" she murmured softly.
Horatio studied her thoughtfully for a moment, before moving to gather up all the coffee cups and set them in the sink. He came back into the salon and sat back down where he had been during Payton's interview and gave a gentle sigh. The peacefulness of the boat, now minus its crowd, settled back in around them.
"What would you like to do?" he asked her softly.
Schell, who had returned to look out the porthole, turned her head slightly towards him and said. "I'd like not to think."
His lips twitched in a smile as he studied her thoughtfully. "Too bad there's not a switch huh?" he asked.
She smiled a little, nodding her head, still not looking his way as she gazed about the salon. "Why does everything feel so strange?" she asked in a plaintive voice. An expression of loss appeared on her face.
Horatio blinked a few times, his own expression going slowly blank. He reached over and picked up her hand in both of his, causing her to watch what he was doing. He seemed to be examining her fingers minutely, gently holding her hand in one of his while the other idly stroked the back of her hand.
It was such a curiously intimate gesture, and when she lifted her gaze to his face, he suddenly couldn't meet hers, but he didn't stop his action with her hand. He swallowed, trying to speak, dropping his head a moment before he gently squeezed her fingers and looked at her shyly.
"We've…" he started to say, paused and went on, "We've been cooped up in here all day, what do you say we go for a walk?"
"A walk?" she asked. "What about your side?"
"It's fine and you shouldn't be worrying about it."
"But you got it because you were protecting me…"
"That's what I do," he replied simply.
"It's bad enough you've nearly drowned because of me but getting shot at too?" she whispered. "If who ever is doing this kills you…" her eyes met his gaze.
"It won't happen," he said quietly, enclosing her hand in both of his. "I won't let it. And you shouldn't be taking on the guilt for this. This is not your fault, Schell. Somebody is doing this to you… and now they are trying to do it to me, but I won't let them. I won't let them do it to either one of us."
Schell gazed at him for a few moments, and he could see her wrestling with the dilemma. He smiled at her and slid out of the settee, tugging on her hand.
"Come on, let's get out of here for a little bit."
"All right," she said softly and sighed.