A/N: Chapter 4 is up and thank you for the reads!

Paris Hilton wannabees are taking over the world, and Horatio knows it...(runs screaming into the night)

Also, the word Kongch'algwan means police officer in Hangul, pokkot means cherry blossom

Horatio and his team (c) CBS, Daikonran and Secondet (c) my sister

4.

As Kino worked on the corpse's reconstruction, Eric handled the member list from Club Nouveau he had gotten from the club owner, a Jean Louis Riviere from Le Harbré in Northern France. Jean Louis was a man of considerable wealth due to an inheritance he had received seven months prior to the opening of his first club, The Louvre, located on Daytona Beach. After the miserable failure of this club, he decided to play it safe and constructed Nouveau while the next paycheck came in. Using his dearly departed father's influence, Riviere brought in European supermodels to attract attention to the fledging enterprise, a move that paid off successfully.

Most of the members are just like L.A.; socialites, heirs, starlets and aspiring musicians…

Two names were picked up; Jake Lai and Aleshya Barton were also members of Club Nouveau's VIP list. In that same moment, Speedle walked into the post, hoping Delko had something to offer. "Tell me we have something on that place."

Eric smirked, "You tell me what you have."

Tim sighed sarcastically as he replied, "Apparently there's a club war between Porta Del Sol and Club Nouveau but it's circumstantial and we all know the value of that in a search warrant."

"Maybe we do. Did our victim have any Porta Del Sol propaganda on him?"

Speed nodded in response. "A poster I found just got tested and came out positive for his fingerprints. You think this was done by Nouveau's management?"

"Nope but it did get us a look at Porta Del Sol's VIP list."

Ryan's computer chirped and the results from his fingerprint analysis were spat out of the printer. There was no match on AFIS. Ryan exhaled defeated, watching as Tim enter his post and resume working. His main worry had been that he had gotten his CSI job because Speed had died. No one ever thought he'd actually come back. He shook his head momentarily; why would he think that he'd be competing against a dead man?

Another chirp was heard and this time, it was good news for Wolfe. Aleysha Barton, a Miami celebutante just arriving at the ripe old age of 21, popped into his monitor screen with a full address and contact list. The Caucasian female had been in the system due to a DUI during the White Christmas party the previous year. Ryan tore the paper from the stack and headed into Horatio's office. He found his boss looking over crime scene photos and medical reports.

"H, I got Aleysha's contacts. She lives in a penthouse over at the Il Palazzo Hotel in South Beach. She's a DUI and a VIP member of Club Nouveau. Her mom's Romaine Barton, illustrated fashion design and self-denominated couture queen."

Horatio grinned as he stood up from his chair. "Well then Mr. Wolfe, let's pick up the princess."

Calleigh's DNA search yielded no results as of the moment when she decided to call in some complementary help. Until Alexx and Secondet could confirm John Doe's identity, there was no way to check for purchases in credit cards. She rubbed her fingers against her temples, relieving the headache she had.

And where is that knife?!

Calleigh looked into Speedle's crime scene photos and evidence inventory, but there was no such murder weapon. Even more so, there was only the victim's blood on the scene; meaning the weapon had a sealed hilt. The woman breathed in and voted to accompany Eric back into Sunset Boulevard, to meet Gabriella Rumán personally.

Finding the woman was the easy part, getting Aleysha Barton to talk was a bit more complicated. Ryan had located her at the trendy spa Nevaeh just a minute's walk from the party circuit. She was inside in a tanning bed while her financially endowed friends carried on with massages and facials.

Great…Wolfe thought at the possibility of having to talk to these girls.

The only protection the young women had from paparazzi and prying outsider eyes were flimsy sheets that flowed in the wind; the spa was a tropical cabana made of cement and decorated with calculated vines and plants that crept upwards. If Caine didn't know better, he would've believed that a slice of Eden's flowers descended from the sky.

With outmost care, Horatio turned the whirring machine off and lifted the lid. He never took off his sunglasses as he faced a very miffed socialite. "Someone your age should be hitting the beach for the thing, not fake bake."

"Who let the Crypt Keeper in?" Aleysha's eyebrow cocked behind diminutive goggles. Horatio grinned humorously while extending his hand.

"I apologize if I'm not aesthetically pleasing for you." Instantly, the lieutenant showed his badge, shutting whatever witty comeback the girl had. "I do have to work for a living. Lieutenant Horatio Caine, Miami-Dade Crime Lab."

Ryan tapped on the rest of the massage givers and proceeded to show the badge and present himself. "I'm CSI Wolfe, we're with Miami-Dade and we'd like for all of you to come with us to the lab for a few questions." Four surprised faces looked at each other but decided to comply. As the quintet clothed themselves, the younger crime scene investigator took a look around the spa while Horatio remained in place.

Nevaeh was a place that was supposed to exude calm and tranquility but all it had was carefully placed propaganda. So far, the place fit the rest of the evidence found on John Doe; the spa's many services ranged from a whopping $450 for a manicure-pedicure treatment to almost two thousand dollars for the full treatment of exotic herb rubs and body massages. It was a luxury only the 12 of the Miami population could afford and flaunt.

Ryan speculated John Doe's last hours on earth were spent showing off his wealth with others like him. This is looking to be a hate crime…

After placing the girls in county vehicles (much to their dismay), Horatio signaled Wolfe to carry on to the lab while he remained for a while longer, obtaining whatever DNA they had left. He differed from Wolfe's line of thought in a key sense. He remembered the CD and he knew that the murder had something to do with the celebutante group. It had to.

Back at the lab, Officer Gladys Montoya was making her rounds when a certain closet door shook. Recognizing it, she whacked it once and calmed the vengeful ghost of Silvia Hong-Kim. She then headed back to reception, to her normal position. Gladys was proud to be security for the lab, through the good times and bad. Bad implied the big Internal Affairs investigation. Gladys took no crap then and she wasn't about to start now.

As she posed, Montoya spotted an elderly figure making his way up the floor with a package that seemed to be twice his height. She rushed to help the Asian looking old man to carry the package but he stubbornly refused, stating he could take the flight of steps left. He did allow the security guard to show him the way into the reception area. The old man bowed in gratitude and hobbled his way towards the desk. With a broken English and a heavy Hangul accent, he answered for whom the package was for.

"Kongch'algwan Horatio Caine."

A/N: Reviews are welcome