A/N: Here, after a very long delay, is more of Jingle Bells on the most appropriate day for it. I'll finish it up probably this weekend.
Thanks for all the prayers and well wishes for my family. My mother is now on a locked mental unit, and I am slowly catching up with sleep and work after an incredibly difficult year.
(H/C)
"It was Santa Claus?" Horatio's voice was perfectly calm and soothing even as he asked the question.
Allie nodded. "He was mad." She sniffled. "Daddy was mad, too."
"Why don't you come out now, Allie? No one will hurt you." His sheer magnetism seemed to pull her out of the closet. Watching him, Calleigh again marveled at his connection with children.
Allie climbed out and attached herself like a leech to Horatio, burying herself against his shoulder, hiding her face as if that would make the world go away. His arms wrapped around her securely. He stayed down on a level with her.
"Eric," he said over his shoulder. "Talk to the neighbors. Find a friend. Find somebody."
"She's a witness, H," Eric reminded him.
Horatio turned his head this, his eyes blue lasers. "She is a child."
"Right." Eric turned and left the room with alacrity, wondering how anybody could look so compassionate and so dangerous simultaneously. Santa Claus, wherever he was, didn't have a chance.
Calleigh stepped over and touched the girl gently on the shoulder. "Allie?" The child looked up, still clinging to Horatio. "Weren't you spending the night with a friend tonight?"
"She got sick," the girl replied. Then, once again, she said, "He was mad."
Calleigh shivered as old memories gathered around her, and Horatio noticed it. "Allie, did your father ever hurt you?"
Allie shook her head vigorously. "He was busy."
Horatio and Calleigh's eyes met over the girl's head. He was busy. Perhaps not actual abuse, but what a condemnation as a summary of a parent.
Alexx suddenly came to attention. "I'm going to go see about something in the other room," she said firmly. "I'll be back in a minute, sweetie." She brushed the girl's hair gently with her hand and then left at a brisk walk. Horatio and Calleigh shared another look. Yes, Alexx was right. The girl certainly did not need to walk out past her father's crumpled and broken body.
"So your father had to pick you up tonight at your friend's, and he was mad about it?" Calleigh picked up the gentle questioning.
Allie nodded. "I want Mom. Is she home yet?"
Horatio tensed up slightly, managing to keep his arms around the girl steady. Calleigh followed the thought easily. The girl didn't know her mother had come home, didn't know she had been hurt. Apparently, the fight between her father and Santa Claus had scared her enough that she had hidden in the closet the entire hour between the attacks and didn't realize the second one. But why would Santa Claus let her live with a whole hour in which to work? Had she seen him without him seeing her? Questions swirled in the air between them.
"What's wrong?" With the uncanny perception of childhood, Allie looked from one of them to the other. "Is something wrong with Mom?" Her voice was rising again, scared even more by that thought than by a fight between her father and Santa Claus.
Horatio tightened his grip on her, but he did not lie. "Your mother has been hurt, Allie, but they think she will be okay."
She crumpled up against him, crying. "Was she in a wreck?" she asked finally.
For the last few minutes, sounds of activity had been heard from the living room, Alexx taking the body out, but now a strange voice was heard, surging up the hall, getting louder. "Allie? Allie! Are you all right, honey?" A woman rushed into the room, and Allie detached from Horatio and ran into her arms.
Horatio stood up again. "Are you a neighbor?"
The woman nodded. "Mrs. Foster. I found them, but oh, Lord, I had no idea . . . she should have been gone. . . what an awful thing." Horatio's warning look stopped the verbal flood, and she hugged the girl tightly. "She's a friend of my daughter's."
"Can you take her over to your house with your daughter? You'll be safe. We'll take care of it."
"I want to see Mom," Allie sobbed, her face buried against Mrs. Foster.
Horatio walked around and spoke, "Allie, look at me." She did, still sniffling. "I promise you, I will take you to see your mother tomorrow. But we can't go tonight. She's been hurt, and she needs to rest. Okay?"
"Promise?"
"Promise." He smiled at her. "Go with Mrs. Foster tonight. All right?"
She nodded and buried herself back against the neighbor's shoulder. Mrs. Foster turned and headed back down the hall, carrying the girl, and Horatio stepped to the bedroom door. "Eric!"
Eric appeared at the end of the hall, then came up it at the slight jerk of Horatio's head. "Eric," Horatio said softly, "get a guard stationed on Mrs. Foster's house. Front and back. Nobody gets in there tonight. Especially not Santa Claus."
"Got it, H." Eric headed back down the hall, and Horatio turned back to Calleigh and tilted his head slightly, inviting her summary of the case so far.
"Her father was expecting to be alone tonight," Calleigh started. "He knew his wife was out shopping, and he was mad that Allie wound up being with him."
"Interesting idea. You think he might have had an appointment with Santa Claus?"
"I can't think of a better disguise at this time of year for someone who didn't want to be recognized. So if the father had been . . .dealing? Something? Maybe he had set up a meeting with one of his accomplices."
"Nice." His approval sent warm fingers down her spine. "That could also explain why Santa Claus stayed around for that hour. He and the father had a fight, and after he killed him, he was looking for something tied to their criminal activities. But then the mother came in , and that's when he bolted. He couldn't have known the girl was here."
"She must have seen him, though. Maybe she was in her room, started to come out, and caught a glimpse at the end of the hall. The fight scared her, and she hid. She must not have heard her mother come in later." Calleigh shook her head. "And here having Santa Claus in your house on Christmas Eve is supposed to be a good thing." There was a very slight echo of bitterness in her tone, as she remembered one Christmas that her father did dress up as Santa Claus - and passed out drunk under the tree.
Horatio clearly caught the shift from present to past, but he had too much respect for her personal space to push on it. Besides, this wasn't the time. "Let's go finish processing that living room," he said. He started out the bedroom door, and Calleigh smiled, her first real smile of the evening. Even if he couldn't be more, he was still the truest and most perceptive friend she had ever known.
As she started to follow him back to the crime scene, her mind abruptly jumped from appreciation of him to her not-quite-finished shopping. She was totally stuck on one gift, because nothing had seemed good enough. "What do you want for Christmas, Horatio?" He stopped in the doorway, startled. "Seriously. What is the thing that you want most for yourself for Christmas?"
He hesitated so long that she wondered if she unknowingly had crossed some invisible no-trespassing sign herself. Finally, he spoke, his voice all but inaudible. "Courage," he said, and then he was once more Lieutenant Horatio Caine on the job at a murder investigation. They walked to the living room in silence.