A/n: Next chapter up

Sorry I take so long with updating, finals are coming

Horatio and his team (c) CBS, Daikonran and Secondet (c) me

5.

Daikonran wiped his sweat from his forehead but he continued on with his reconstructive work. In that moment, he had removed a cheek implant attached to the bone by unscrewing the surgical nails. Maxilofacial changes to the jaw line could not be reversed but a quick massage on the facial muscles and the tissues softened.

The bloody face show was over, some of the scarlet splashing into his scrubs. Little by little, John Doe's face grew softer as plastic and silicon were slowly taken away and stored into small boxes. Kino knew that he had a long way to go but he continued on while Alexx catalogued every implant with labels.

This young man had a lot to hide if I'm still 15 reconstructed.

When he was about to make the incision to remove the six-pack, Kino took a quick look at the fatal wound and spotted something peculiar around it. It was starting discolor in a yellowish, pus like color.

This formation looks postmortem; it can't an infection…Daikonran frowned through the surgical mask. Taking a swab and a fresh scalpel, the doctor scrapped along the lesion and collected the remains that fell out. Once the gash was clear, Kino then spotted a small glitter within the deep red of muscles. Hello…

Horatio entered through the back door, the quickest way to the interrogation room where one of Aleysha's friends, a Lizbeth Peters, awaited nervously. Her face was heavily made up, her brunette hair tied back in a loose ponytail that cascaded into her spaghetti strap blouse. Caine couldn't place it but he felt as if he had seen the socialite before.

"Ms. Peters, do you know your right for an attorney?" Horatio asked softly, trying to soothe the girl's nerves. One look at her fearing eyes, she obviously couldn't have been his killer; she did, however, have something to hide.

"Yeah, I asked my daddy." Lizbeth replied now terrified. "H-he's a big lawyer. He works upstate."

Aw shit. The lieutenant mentally slapped himself, his head looking straight to the floor. Roger Peters, one of Tampa's most illustrious defense attorneys was the suspect's father. Peters was known to use the tiniest fault or defect in the prosecution and practically maul the case. Most of his clients would get the minimum penalty, no matter the case. Horatio took a bit comfort in that, over Roger's practice; he only defended robbery and domestic cases, never a murder.

Lizbeth shivered for a second before saying. "But I can still help right?"

Caine looked at the girl, slightly perplexed. "Um, sure. Go ahead."

Lizbeth lowered her eyesight to her Gucci shoes. "I wasn't supposed to be at Club Nouveau last night. I'm sixteen."

"That's a misdemeanor, Ms. Peters. You're looking at license suspension and community service." Horatio replied sternly. Another case of underage drinking. "Why were you there?"

Lizbeth looked at the rest of the celebutante group and shuddered. Horatio assured the girl that the walls were soundproof. "My sister forced me to go. She said I needed to live up a little. The club was having this Anniversary bash and everyone of her friends was invited." She then rummaged around her handbag and placed an invitation on the glass top.

The gothic details were substantially different from the club itself; a bleeding heart with black curls surrounding the date and RSVP section. The card itself was five inches long, three wide, made of semi gloss paper. Other than that and it would've been another scrap of paper.

"So you were given a christening on the fast life?" A nod and Lizbeth broke down. "I'm sorry I'm not much help; Fiona's smarter than I am, prettier than I am…" Horatio raised his hand, stopping the self-inflicted tirade.

"I don't know you or your sister so I'll judge that myself." A kinder expression took shape as the female officer took the girl away. Horatio then caught the other girls showering Lizbeth with poisonous looks and what looked like off-hand comments. A regular catfight in the making.

"Oh yeah lieutenant, you have a package over at reception." The accompanying officer informed while closing the door.

Oh really? The lieutenant made a mental note to pick it up once his interview with Miss Aleshya Barton was finished. He looked to his watch and estimated that by the time he was down with the formalities, both her parents would be up to his neck playing the lawsuit card.

Eric and Calleigh stuck out in the florid landscape that was Porta del Sol; the club was emulating the Puerto Rican essence with sterlitzia flowers and tropical backgrounds abstractly painted upon the plaster walls. Madonna's "Die Another Die" repeated in a low baritone as the clean-up crew kept to their work. Gabriella Rumán was a forty some woman who carried herself with pride and ease; no work was done to her cinnamon face, making her emotions all the more clear.

"Officers, welcome to Porta del Sol. How may I be of assistance?" she asked while drinking a lightened version of a Margarita.

Calleigh spoke first, breaking any animosity with her cheerful but business tone. "I hope you can. We need your VIP member list, in order to corroborate our victim's presence."

"So I've heard; Nouveau's looking to have a bit of a roadblock with what I've heard from my staff." Rumán leaned back for a second to reach her legal briefcase. She handed over the requested list and a flier. Recognizing the stare she got, the business owner stoically responded,

"I'm only doing my civic duty."

A/N: Reviews are welcome