Thanks to my beta, Corine, who I hope will stick with me for the rest of the story. On line again, huh, Becs? Sounds like a life to me. Showpopper, welcome on board, please join us for the rest of the ride. And DeathofMe, I didn't see that one coming …Raymond, huh? I hope you won't be disappointed.
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Calleigh bit her lip. She wasn't going to push him to talk, not now, it would only be an excuse to delay what had to happen next. There was nothing sharp or strong enough available to cut the wire so the only choice she had was to find an end and start untwisting it. Ridges of dried blood that had crusted over broke away and fresh blood flowed freely, making it almost impossible to see what she was doing. Her fingers quickly got sticky and she swallowed down firmly on top of the queasiness rising in her throat. After a minute Calleigh had to run to the bathroom for cold water and wring a wet cloth out over top of his wrists to rinse away enough blood so that she could continue.
Horatio mumbled something as the cold water ran in rivulets down his chest and she leaned in close above his pain tense face to hear what he was saying. "Slide the chair over… a little to your right. Don't block the camera."
Calleigh gasped in shock. Her upper body jerked around, eyes frantically skimming the edges of the room until she found it -- a video camera mounted on a metal bracket in the corner near the door, lens trained with exact precision on the bed. Quickly she spun around again, turning her back to whoever was watching, and concentrated on Horatio's face. His colour had faded to a very scary shade of gray and a muscle was twitching in his cheek. Calleigh viciously jerked the chair a few inches to the side so that the son of a bitch on the other end of the lens could see it too.
Swallowing her anger down a throat so tight that it hurt, Calleigh gently lifted Horatio's hands up and placed a couple of folded towels on his chest. Carefully she rested his wrists on the soft cotton, feeling eyes crawl unpleasantly on her back as she started in on the wire again. Teasing and untwisting inch after agonizing inch she had to pause ever so often to flush Horatio's blood away with cold water. Gradually she became aware of soft almost inaudible whimpering and it cut her to the heart until, with a start, she realized that she was the one making the anguished sounds, not Horatio. Angrily Calleigh squeezed her lips tight together, wondering if he'd heard, even worse wondering how good the audio pickup was on the camera.
God, she prayed, I hope it's crappy, or I just gave this bastard what he wants the most.
An irresistible need to see what the camera was seeing, to steal a look at Horatio's face, crept over her. Calleigh knew it was a mistake but she went ahead and did it anyway, immediately regretting the decision. Silent tears were flowing down his cheeks and they had nothing whatsoever to do with the pain she was causing or the sounds she'd been making. Horatio wasn't aware of either.
Wordlessly Calleigh bent her head back over the delicate task of extricating the next bit of embedded wire. So far so good, she consoled herself. There didn't appear to be any tendon damage and the major blood vessels were obviously intact or he would have bled to death long ago. Thank you, Sweet Jesus, for small favours, she thought, as she doggedly kept on going. When a fingernail broke with a sudden snap of sound she was so focused she didn't even notice.
Her work as a CSI often required endless patience and precision and Calleigh possessed an almost unlimited supply of both along with a well developed sense of time, yet she had no idea how much had passed when Horatio's hands finally slipped limply apart. One wrist was still wrapped in multiple loops of wire but the other was completely free. Tenderly Calleigh picked up Horatio's hand, cradled the backs of his fingers in her own while she rested his palm lightly against her cheek.
When she looked up at him through the tears suspended in her lashes he was no longer crying and his eyes were open. They drifted across her face without really seeing it, wandered into the camera lens, steadied, and stayed there. Calleigh felt an unreasonable rush of jealousy flood through her.
"I think I'm passing out," he said very calmly, yanking her attention back abruptly where it belonged.
"I don't blame you," she gulped. "I'll try to finish the other wrist while you're asleep. Don't leave me alone too long, okay?"
"Prom'ss..." he slurred as his head slumped gently on the pillow. His lids dropped down not quite all the way and the small slits of pale blue that remained were now mercifully free from all kinds of pain. As Calleigh continued to pry the stubborn wire, the eyes of Horatio's torturer burning holes into her back, she was amazed at how ridiculously happy that made her.
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"The red hairs we found in Calleigh's bed. Three of them don't belong to H."
"What?" Eric looked up from his monitor and focused blankly on a very intense Ryan Wolfe. "What did you say?"
"You heard me. But if you think that's freaky…" Ryan waved minutes-old lab results in front of Eric's nose. "The Y chromosomes from two of the hairs are a perfect match with Horatio's DNA. The bastard who did this is his father."
"Wait a minute." Eric shook his head, unwilling to process this much unwelcome information in so little time. DNA didn't lie, and Y chromosomes were passed down unaltered from father to son, so what Ryan saidhad to be true, but…
"Horatio's father? I thought he was dead."
"Nope." Ryan shook his head. "I just ran it. Amery Jason Caine. Got his wrap sheet right here, served two non concurrent sentences, one in the state of Florida, one in New York. Released from…" Ryan flipped over a corner of paperwork… "Auburn Correctional Facility eleven days ago. Eleven days, Delko. He's our man. Probably responsible for the shooting in the parkade as well."
"What was he in prison for?" The tremulous voice came from somewhere near the door. Both Eric and Ryan turned heads to find Alexx Woods there, her hand gripping the edge of the layout table for what they hoped was only moral support.
"Most recent conviction was for kidnapping, forcible confinement and aggravated assault." Ryan swallowed visibly. "One before that was murder. First degree."
The other two occupants of the lab just stared at him until he summoned up enough spit to answer their wordless question.
"Rosalind Caine. Horatio's mother."