Chapter 3

Natalia was just getting the results from the blood and hair samples when Calleigh walked into the lab.

"Anything good?"

"Yes. The blood on the window and the hair samples you gave me match."

"There were no other donors?"

"No. Their child was trying to escape them. Now why?"

"That's a good question. Did you get a hold of the Fort Lauderdale PD?"

"Yes. They said they'd have the report waiting when you get there."

"Thanks." Calleigh turned.

"You know that picture you took of the lock?"

Calleigh turned back.

"Which one?"

"The one of the inside?"

"Yes."

Natalia reached in her back pocket and pulled out a metal fingernail file. She sat it down before Calleigh.

"Our parents put a lock on my sister's when we were teenagers to keep me out – I liked to borrow her art supplies without asking and forget where I put them. I tried breaking in several times using a nail file, and it left those exact marks on the door."

Calleigh picked up the nail file and stared at it.

"What the hell was this child trying to escape, Calleigh? And who helped her plan her escape? To get out that window without setting off the alarm, and remove the bars… Either this child is very bright, or someone told her how to do this."

Natalia's phone rang and she looked at the face before answering it. "Morning, Horatio. You want me at Ryan's place? Why?"

Calleigh looked up at her. Natalia looked really confused.

"Yeah. I can do that. But if it's just for a broken wind… Oh. In his closet? How on Earth… Yeah. Okay. I'll leave right now." Natalia hung up, looking at Calleigh. "Ryan has a child in his closet."

Calleigh almost laughed, but could tell Natalia was serious. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Apparently a kid broke a window in his apartment and is in his closet, refusing to talk to anyone. This is going to be a weird, weird day." Natalia turned, walking out of the lab.

"Do you want your nail file back?"

Natalia trotted back, taking it with both hands. "I would die without it. Our job is murder on nails!"

Calleigh smiled, watching her hurry away.

#

Horatio and Cynthia climbed the hill to the playground. There were only a few children playing and the parents were scattered on benches around the equipment. Cynthia pointed across the park to a young Hispanic woman. The woman looked a little lost the way she stared at the sand of the playground.

"That's the nanny. And that girl on the edge there, that's her daughter. Or so I was told."

Horatio's gaze found the Hispanic child sitting on the edge of the equipment. She looked as despondent as her mother. Were they perhaps feeling the loss of the runaway in Ryan's closet?

"Wait here, Cynthia." Horatio walked toward the nanny, pulling his sunglasses off when he was a few feet from her.

She looked up at him.

"Good morning, ma'am," Horatio said. He had taken the time to hook his badge on the edge of his jeans before coming up here, and moved his hand to his hip to draw her eyes to it. She looked back up at his eyes. "Can I talk to you about the child you take care of?"

The woman's eyes narrowed a little. "¿Qué?"

Horatio knew right away this wasn't going to be as easy as a few questions. "Do you understand English, ma'am?"

She hesitated. "¿Inglés? No. No entiendo Inglés."

Horatio looked at her child as she came into view. She made a wide berth around him and climbed along the bench to her mother, who immediately wrapped her arm tight around the child. Neither of them trusted him.

"Do you understand English?" Horatio asked the child.

She nodded.

"That's good. You understand Spanish, I imagine?"

She nodded again.

"That's a very good skill to have. You should always keep that skill." Horatio crouched down so he came to the child's eye level. "My name is Lieutenant Caine and I work with the Miami Police Department. You and your mother look very sad today. Is someone you know missing?"

The girl glanced at her mother. The woman asked her a question and the girl answered. She nodded.

"She wants to know why you asked that question," the child told him.

"Well, do you see that lady standing over there?" Horatio pointed at Cynthia.

The child translated and they both nodded.

"Do either of you recognize her?"

The child translated the question, both nodding again. The woman said something.

"She's a friend of the girl momma takes care of."

"She said that. She said the girl likes the dog she brings here."

"That's Jake," the girl told him. "His owner is a policeman and the woman babysits Jake while he's working so he doesn't have to stay inside for a long time."

Horatio smiled, nodding. "That's right. That policeman works with me. We help solve crimes and sometimes mysteries. I have an especially good one right now. The little girl your momma takes care of won't tell me her name, and she's scared and injured. I was hoping that you two could tell me who her parents are so I can speak with them."

The girl translated. The woman stood suddenly, pointing an accusing finger at Horatio. He slowly stood, taking the verbal assault in stride. The woman stopped and there was silence. She turned to her daughter, motioning to him.

"She says you'll tell her where the girl is now. She ran away and now mother is out of a job. She wants her returned home immediately."

"I can't do that until I speak to her parents. Can you tell me their names or where they live?"

The girl told her mother what Horatio said. The woman grabbed the girl's arm and yanked her off the bench, storming away. The girl argued with her mother as she was led away. She turned back to Horatio.

"Her name is Alicia Yates. I don't her address."

"Thank you."

The two disappeared over the hill. Horatio turned and walked back to Cynthia.

"She seemed friendly," Cynthia sarcastically commented.

"She just lost her job. She wasn't very happy with my answers."

Cynthia fell in behind him as they walked back to his Hummer.

#

In the neat and perfect living room, Eric sat with Betty and Samuel Yates. Calleigh had taken evidence back to the lab and left him to do a follow-up interview. He had wanted to object because what he really wanted to know was what horrible things her parents had done to Alicia to make go the lengths she had to escape them.

"I understand that you adopted Alicia in Canada?" Eric asked. In his mind he followed the question with an angry hiss, You sick mother fuckers! I will find out what you did to that little girl and you will regret ever meeting me.

"Yes," Samuel answered. "We gave the adoption papers to your colleague so she could make copies."

Eric nodded. How cooperative of them. "So far the evidence is telling us that Alicia broke window and removed the bars herself. Was she locked in her bedroom?"

Betty started crying.

Her husband held her as he nodded. "Alicia is suicidal."

"She's ten."

"So?" Samuel spat.

Eric bit his tongue to keep from snarling a reply back. Instead he asked, "Were you taking her to a counselor or therapist?"

"For a while we were, but then she got worse. Even with her medications."

Eric nodded, pretending to empathize him despite his internal voice constantly cussing at the couple. "I'll need her medicine bottles when we're done here. What methods did she use when she attempted suicide?"

"Several times she'd snuck out and was almost hit trying to cross the freeway. So we put a lock on the door, and alarm and bars on all the windows. She used a nail file to try picking the lock."

Eric stared at Samuel for a few seconds. That hadn't even come close to answering the question.

"Has Alicia ever actually attempted suicide? Such as slitting her wrists? Taking pills? Trying to shoot or hang herself?"

The two hesitated.

"She wouldn't stay here where it was safe," Betty told Eric. "She would run into traffic when she had her fits. She wouldn't eat what we told her to. She was trying to destroy herself."

Eric looked from one to the other. What were these two hiding about their daughter? They came right to the edge of admitting something, and then diverted the conversation as if they were trying to keep him from becoming to interested in the topic at hand. For now, Eric decided to play along even if this interview was making him angrier by the minute.

"What kind of therapist is she seeing?"

"Can I have the name of the therapist?"

"Gail Hutchins, but she hasn't seen Alicia in months."

"Why not?"

"She started believing Alicia's delusions and saying we were the source of Alicia's behavior problems."

"And you haven't taken her to another one? Even with her alleged suicide attempts?"

"Alleged?" Betty hissed. "Look, if you're not going to believe our daughter is ill and disturbed, then you should go."

Eric stood, more than happy to leave. "Okay. I need her medications."

"You want them, you get a warrant," Samuel told him.

Eric shrugged. "Okay. I'll do that." He picked up his kit and walked out with the officer that was escorting him.

#

Calleigh walked down the hall with a case file in hand. She noticed Horatio in a lab and glanced at the screen he was staring at as she passed. She stopped short and turned. She suddenly ran to the door and flew into the room, staring at the girl on his screen.

"Calleigh?" Horatio said.

Calleigh opened her case file and held up a photo. "Alicia Yates. How is she connected to your case?"

Horatio reached out, taking the photograph. He held it at arms length.

"I think I have the exact same question for you, Calleigh."

"Is she okay?"

Horatio cocked his head to the side with a raised eyebrow. "I wouldn't go as far as to say the child is okay, but no further harm will come to her." Horatio handed the photograph back. "What can you tell me about Alicia Yates?"

Calleigh sat down on a stool. "Her parents adopted Alicia in Canada, they say she's a suicidal ten-year-old, and that her therapist is accusing them of kidnapping her. The only follow-up on her accusation was a copy of the adoption papers."

"So Alicia was seeing a therapist?"

"Yes. I'm headed out to speak to her now."

"May I join you?"

"Sure. Is Alicia the child that broke into Ryan's apartment and is hiding in his closet?"

Horatio headed for the door and she followed him.

"She is."

"Did she know that Ryan lived there?"

"We think so."

"Do we know why she picked him?"

"She became friends with the apartment owner's wife through Ryan's dog. With what she told Alicia about Ryan, it may have made Alicia believe that Ryan could and would protect her from her parents."

They caught the elevator as a lab tech was exiting.

"Horatio, if this child was feeling so threatened by her parents that she would break into a complete stranger's home for protection, there is something very dark going on in her life."

Horatio put on his sunglasses as the doors closed. "I agree, and we're about to shed light on it."

#

"Alicia," Ryan said.

The child looked up at him. He was crouched outside the closet holding a pizza and two bottles of water. Natalia crouched beside him, staring at the girl, and still wearing a surprised expression.

"This is my friend Natalia," Ryan told Alicia. "She just told me your name is Alicia. That's a pretty name. Can I come in and share a pizza with you, Alicia?"

Her face clouded. "That's not my name!"

Ryan looked at the pizza. "You didn't have to snap at me. I guess I'll go eat this in the living room." He moved slowly as he stood and turned to leave.

Alicia sat up. "Okay."

"Okay?" Ryan asked, turning and tilting his head so he could see her.

Jake was still laying next to her, also watching Ryan – or rather the pizza box. Ryan had probably shared more pizza with Jake than was good for the German Sheppard and he knew what treat hid inside that box.

"I'm sorry. I'll share."

Ryan turned and moved into the closet on the other side of Jake. "Jake-o, go on. Get. Cynthia's here to take you for a walk."

"No!" Alicia grabbed him as he started to get up.

"Alicia, he has—"

"THAT'S NOT MY NAME!" she screamed at him.

Ryan cringed. In the small space, her high pitched voice may as well have been nails on a chalkboard.

"Fine. What is your name then?"

"Amanda."

Ryan stared at her. He had expected some strange name like he'd heard other kids say when they were in denial or upset.

"Amanda, he needs to potty. Can Cynthia take him to potty?"

They both looked up when Cynthia crouched down. She smiled at Alicia.

"Hi," she said.

Alicia didn't smile back. Cynthia reached out, looping her fingers around Jake's collar.

"I'll bring him back when you've finished lunch, Alic… Amanda."

"Promise?" Alicia softly asked.

"I promise."

Alicia let the dog go and Jake went with Cynthia.

Ryan sat the box down and opened it, exposing the pizza. He handed her a bottle of water. She took it, wincing a little. Ryan picked up a slice of pizza and started eating it. He watched her timidly reach out and take a slice. She turned it to take a bite as tears started falling. She dropped the slice and hunched over with her fingers outstretched. Now he could see her hands and they were torn to shreds with piece of glass embedded in the flesh. He had a hard time swallowing his bite. Ryan sat his slice in the box and closed the lid.

"I'm going to call a paramedic in here and we let him bandage your hands. Okay?"

"No."

"You're hands—"

"NO!"

He cringed again.

"Okay. Okay. How about this… Natalia can call a paramedic in here, and he'll tell me how to bandage your hands. I'll sit right there next to you, you won't have to move."

She didn't answer. Ryan hoped that meant she was okay with the idea and nodded. Natalia left. Ryan moved the pizza over and sat down. Natalia and a paramedic entered, crouching down

"You are going to tell me how to bandage Amanda's hands."

"I really should do that."

Ryan looked the medic in the eyes. "We are going to do this together, understand? If you'll notice, things have changed since you were last in here."

The paramedic looked from one to the other. He nodded, setting his bag down.

"I need something to put the glass in."

Natalia dug out a plastic evidence container, tweezers and gloves out of her field kit, and handed them to Ryan.

Ryan turned to Alicia. "Should I just pull the pieces out?" Ryan asked the paramedic.

"You're going to have to. It's going to hurt, kiddo."

Alicia pulled away when Ryan reached out to pull a piece out. Ryan shot the paramedic a dark look.

"It won't stop hurting at all until I get the glass out, Amanda," Ryan told her.

It took her so long to hold her hands out that Ryan thought he hadn't convinced her. Slowly her fingers uncurled and she held her hands in the light. As gently as he could, Ryan removed the shards of glass.

Alicia managed to hold back the tears until he started pulling out a long glass sliver embedded deep in the heel of her hand. Ryan dropped it in the container and leaned forward, blowing gently on it. It was something he remembered his mother doing when she pulled slivers out and he was secretly proud when it had the same effect on Alicia it had on him. Her tears stopped and she relaxed so he could finish pulling out glass.

"Can you feel any more in your hands?" Ryan asked.

She shook her head, sniffling back her tears. He capped the jar and handed the tweezers and jar to the medic.

"Give her the jar," he said, motioning to Natalia.

The medic did, and then handed Ryan a tube of antibiotic ointment, scissors, two rolls of bandages, and tape.

"You want it snug enough to immobilize the fingers but not cut circulation. It should look like mittens when you're done."

Ryan started bandaging a hand. He finished her hand and tossed the tape, scissors, and tube back. Natalia followed the medic out as se made a call on her cell phone.

He sat his pizza on his lap and handed Alicia's piece of pizza to her. She carefully took it and watched him until he started eating. Then she began eating her piece.

Quietly Alicia told him, "They won't let me have pizza."

"Who?" Ryan asked. "You're parents?"

"They aren't my parents, but yes."

"Why won't they?"

"They say it's bad for my voice."

"Bad for your voice? What does that mean?"

"Yes. They tell me if I put on too much weight, it would affect my voice."

Ryan stopped chewing. "Do you sing, Amanda?"

"Yes. They make me sing in operas. I hate operas."

Ryan finished his bite. "I bet you have a beautiful voice, though. Maybe you can show me sometime."

She didn't offer a time or agree to now. The two ate the rest of their lunch in silence.