33.
Making the dash from the Hummer to the entrance, he swiftly ran a hand through his hair, shedding off the water, before flicking it back into place and shaking the drops off his jacket. Rain in Miami was just that, torrential and fast, not like the constant showers that Seattle experienced, he was idly thinking as he pulled his keys out of his pants pocket, heading upstairs.
He was feeling an odd sense of relief, mixed with anticipation and a certain amount of doubt when he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. Ever hypersensitive to his surroundings, the first thing he noticed, asides from the presence of someone else in his apartment, was the opened curtains in the front room.
Pausing, he quietly shut the door, sensing from the utter stillness that Schell had to be asleep. With the exception of the occasional thunder, all he could hear was the drumming of the rain on the windows and sliding glass doors. A part of him was glad she had been up at some point; moving around, though probably painful, was good for victims of a car accident, but then again, he wanted to make sure she got plenty of rest.
Silently Horatio made his way through the kitchen and stopped, tilting his head a little and frowning. He could just see the top of Schell's head where she had fallen asleep on his couch. Studying her, he set his keys on the counter, then shrugged out of his jacket, moving towards the couch where he draped it carefully over the back and looked at her.
Though dismayed that she was at a bad angle, he couldn't help but let a soft smile tug the corner of his lips as he unbuttoned his cuffs. She'd found his present, obviously, and he was satisfied that the gown she wore fit, and that she was wearing it. That soft smile was still there as he carefully slipped between his coffee table and the couch, and sat, perched on the edge of the couch, very close to her.
In her sleep, she was still protective of her arm, keeping it huddled close to her and her other arm had relaxed from holding it. Horatio reached up, gently setting a hand on her head, his thumb stroking the soft white hair by her ear.
"Schell?" he said quietly, his other hand curling her hand in his. At first she didn't stir, until he stroked the hair away from her face, then she frowned a little and began to blink her eyes open.
"Hey..." he said, feeling her move a bit as she drew in a breath. Focusing, Schell started to lift her head before a nasty jab of pain hit her neck.
"Oh..." she moaned, trying to reach up, but long, strong fingers beat her to just the spot. Horatio had found the knot, and began working the painful kink out of her neck.
"Let me help..." he murmured to her, and before she was fully cognizant, he had slid back, guiding her legs past him and helped her to sit up. Schell moaned a little, letting her head drop over, frowning at the aches and pains, and just letting him dote on her. She shivered a little, as she became more awake, and rubbed at the goosebumps on her arm.
"Hey..." she murmured back, lifting her head and gazing at him. "You're home."
"Yeah..." he smiled at her sleepiness, then reached up to run his hand down her hair. "I've got some good news for you," he murmured, gazing at her.
Blinking the sleep away, she looked at him, "You do?"
"Uh huh," then he noticed her shivering and stood up. "I'll tell you in a moment, come on..." he said, offering her a hand. "It's warmer in the bedroom."
"Ok..." she said, still fighting the sleep and without a word, Horatio returned her to the bedroom.
Before letting her crawl back under the blankets, he helped her with the sling, which brought a certain amount of relief from the kinks and cramping in her neck. She didn't say much, but he could tell from the small sounds she did make that she was aching. She closed her eyes gratefully, as he pulled the blankets back over her, and let out a relieved sigh.
"You just relax, okay?" he said, "Let me take care of a few things and I'll be right back."
"All right," she nodded and he was amused that she simply drifted off on him as he stood up and tugged his shirt-tails out of his slacks.
She wasn't completely asleep being aware that he was in the apartment and securing it for the night. The warmth of the bed however, did much to lull her into a twilight sleep as she registered somewhere in her brain that he had gone into his bathroom and the shower was running.
When he emerged, she was more awake. In fact she was looking in his direction as he came out and he paused, checking to make sure she was awake. Then he noticed the look of amusement. He was toweling his hair dry when he noticed and he actually glanced down.
The normally immaculate Lieutenant Caine had donned his dark green silk pj's, was barefoot and holding a wet towel in his hands. His red hair was rumpled and he actually had the grace to blush. He glanced back at her, smirked to himself and turned to hang the towel up, before he flicked his fingers through his hair.
Snapping the light off, he came over to the bed. Schell had rolled onto her side, to face him, her good hand tucked under her cheek. He sat down next to her, and raised a questioning eyebrow.
"I remember seeing those..." she said softly.
"Mmm," Horatio replied, nodding his head, running a hand down his leg. "You said something about never having seen a policeman in pajama's before." There was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
Schell began to laugh a little and winced. "I got to quit doing that..." she muttered, smiling at him. "Hurts to laugh."
Horatio chuckled softly, as he self-consciously reached up and ran his fingers through the back of his wet hair.
"You have this thing for silk too..." she commented.
Horatio smiled again, tucking his chin in, and glancing at his pajamas. "I uhh..." he started, paused a moment collecting his thoughts then continued, "Several years ago, I was injured on duty. Rather badly, and I took a long time convalescing, " he admitted. He smiled as he gazed back at her. "I found out that this was the most comfortable thing I could wear, that is why I thought I'd get you something similar..."
"And you couldn't decide which colour..." she murmured, seeing that he was revealing something to her that he normally would not have done. She considered his words a moment. "I haven't thanked you for them, they are very, very nice..."
"You just did," he said with a warm smile.
"Did you say you had some good news, earlier?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, smiling softly, "Yeah, I did. When I came in a while ago,"
"Before I died on the couch?" Schell murmured, "I was watching the storm, and before you ask, yes, I took my pills."
He smirked and nodded, then shifted his position, to draw one leg up onto the bed, and leaned over to brace his arm on the other side of her. He gazed at her for a moment.
"We caught the bad guys..." he said, simply.
Schell stared at him a moment, and he could see several reactions occuring simultaneously. She started to talk but was abruptly speechless, as she searched his face.
He sat forward, to be able to reach up and set his hand on her cheek.
"Y--you caught them?" she finally stammered.
"We caught them, it was a team effort," he corrected gently as he could see a flood of relief beginning to overwhelm her. "Hey..." he shushed gently, as she shifted, rolling on to her back. Tears had suddenly formed in her eyes.
Reaching her good hand up to her face, Schell was mindful of the stitches on her lip as she stared at Horatio. "I'm sorry..." she whispered to him. "It's all..."
"It's okay, I understand..." he murmured to her, smiling and resting the backs of his fingers on her cheek.
"You really caught them?" she asked, wrestling to get a hold of the torrent of emotions flooding her. When he smiled and nodded, Schell stared at him a moment, then began struggling to sit up.
"I'm sorry," she murmured as he looked at her puzzled, then began helping her. "I just need to sit up for this..." she took a moment, to slide her legs off the bed and sit on his left. Running her good hand gently across her face, she paused to wipe the tears out of her eyes. She flashed an apologetic smile at him, as she took in a breath and steadied herself.
He smiled at her, reaching over to take her hand in his. "You don't need to apologize..." he murmured to her. She nodded her head in aquiescence, then glanced at him in the dim light.
"Um, so... uh," she started, then paused, looking away from him to marshall her thoughts back together. "Who is it?" she asked, frowning in uncertainty, "I mean, what happened?" then she paused and looked at him. "Why?"
Horatio leaned over, running his other hand up her back to rub at her neck. "It's all right..." he murmured to her, seeing the sudden confusion.
"I can't get Lionel out of my head..." Schell suddenly replied, her voice cracking and he watched as she clenched her jaw in an effort not to start crying. "I keep seeing his head fly back, and I took my hand off the wheel of the car..." In anguish, she searched his face.
Horatio gazed back at her, "Sweetheart..." he murmured gently, "It was not your fault." He then slid off the bed, turning, "Come on," he coaxed and before she realized it, he was sliding under the covers next to her, wrapping his arms around her.
With a sigh, Schell lay back down, letting herself get lost in his embrace for a moment. He smiled when she sighed, relaxed, then pulled her head back to look at him. "I knew something was wrong by the way he hit his seat, I reached over to see what was wrong..." She paused, running the backs of her fingers against the silk on his chest, then met his eyes. "I remember the car hitting the curb..."
Horatio, listening carefully, let her ramble a moment, all the while idly toying with the hair near her ear. Schell lapsed into silence, studying the compassionate look on his face.
With her good arm trapped between them she could only reach up and rest her fingertips on his chin, but she smiled slightly at him and murmured, "Listen to me, going on like an idiot. You must be utterly exhausted."
"Never an idiot," he said, "I know how you feel..."
Searching his eyes, she asked, "Who did this?"
"The shooter was a man named Owen Parnell, he's a former Marine sharpshooter." Horatio murmured, studying the play of dim light on Schell's hair. "I know someone is watching out for you because he missed his target twice."
"Owen Parnell," Schell frowned, wracking her brain, trying to put a face to the name and failing. "He shot Lionel?"
"He did. He didn't know you were driving the car. He also killed Paul Hirsch and Joe Miller; the man who tried to blow up your boat in Seattle. He's the same man who tried to shoot us at your studio," Horatio explained.
"Why?" came Schell's natural response.
Horatio paused a moment, "Mostly, it was for money. We uncovered the source behind the original art forgery scam," he said carefully. "They were making a large sum of money swapping out originals with forgeries and selling the originals to private collectors," he studied her a moment in the dim light and continued. "When you and Paul Hirsch discovered the operation, it was decided that both of you needed to be taken care of. Randall Thorpe was told to do it and he failed, so the moving force behind the entire set-up arranged to have it done, using Parnell as the hitman."
"Who was...?" Schell began, but Horatio stopped her, setting his hand gently on her cheek.
"It was all started by Charles and Constance Lange," he said slowly.
"Charles and Constance..." Schell repeated, then frowned at him as it began to dawn on her what he had just revealed. "Constance Lange?" she asked. "Connie Lange? The gallery owner?"
"The same," Horatio murmured, feeling the tension building in her. "Give me a moment and I'll explain..." he added, trying to head off what was only a natural response on the part of a victim; righteous indignation.
"Connie Lange?" Schell asked again, searching his face for any signs of doubt. He waited, seeing the realization, and a cascade of other thoughts and emotions colliding inside of Schell.
"Do me a favour, all right?" he asked.
Schell blinked, then nodded at him.
"Let me explain..." he said.