A special thanks to everyone who took the time to suggest ideas and things. I've decided to do things a little differently than I thought, but I think it works out better this way. Sorry it took so long to update, but I couldn't upload anything because of my server. I'm hoping the problem is more or less fixed, but at least you know I didn't abandon the project. :)

"Mr. Sheldon, you were the last person to see Felix Standford alive, correct?" Horatio leaned over the table, shedding his sunglasses.

"Yeah, except for the guy that murdered him." Chip Sheldon mumbled nervously. Cops were not his cup of tea. Horatio gave him a meaningful stare.

"You went to his store, 'The Indigo Sky', to get a refund on an item that you claimed didn't work." Horatio said after a bit. Chip nodded.

"It was this book, uh…Earth, Air, Fire, Water. The spells were stupid and pointless. Plus, they didn't give me any results."

"What results were you looking for?" Horatio asked.

"Uh…just some…spells…All right, it was a money spell. The book said if I gave a thousand dollars to a charity, I'd get it back three-fold. I even followed the directions step-by-step. I did everything."

"Did Felix refuse to give you your refund?" Horatio wondered.

"Not exactly. He told me that the warranty wasn't over, yet. He asked me to take it for another week and if it still didn't work, he said he'd give me a full refund."

"How much was the book?"

"I don't know…five hundred dollars? It was one of those rare, original prints."

"Are they highly sought after?" Horatio asked. He was beginning to see the crime more clearly.

"Originals? Yeah. People kill for 'em."

"No kidding." Horatio said with a heavy frown.

Calleigh was examining the bullet and its shell casing when Horatio entered the ballistics lab. His pace suggested he was onto something.

"The customer explained to me that he was the owner of a very valuable piece of literature. If the murderer thought that Felix was in possession of the book, he was sadly mistaken. But it also means that our suspect is in danger."

Keats couldn't remember much of the accident. All she remembered was a throbbing pain in her forehead. She felt the congealed blood alongside her face and struggled to move her arms.

Her wrists had been bound by a strip of stout rope around the massive trunk of a tree.

It gives new meaning to the term 'tree hugger'…okay, Keats…how are you going to finagle your way out of this one?

"Believe me, Red. It hurts me to do this to you." D.H. blurted out from the tail end of his truck. He was sitting comfortably, watching her with delight. He smoked from a pipe and gave her lecherous stares.

"I'm sure." She muttered. All she had wanted was a normal life. And yet…here she was.

"You're in a very compromising position, Little Red. If I had the notion, I could do things to you that would scare the wildlife." He chuckled softly.

"If you plan to kill me, get it over with, Haney. I don't feel like being brave or crafty." She murmured. She had indeed lost the will to escape. It was not a good feeling.

There were so many questions and absolutely no answers. It was daunting…but she'd been through worse.

"I don't kill, sweets. I may have pulled a gun on your ass a while back, but that didn't mean I was going to shoot you." He tapped the ash from his pipe and leaned back.

"…so…this so-called trap…you set it after you got out of prison, trying to catch me…why here?"

"You may not have realized it, yet, but I was a guest at your sister's wedding. I talked to your grandma. I found out lots of things about you…you're an interesting girl."

"And you're a boring man."

"Why the hell aren't you afraid?" He asked in surprise, sliding off his truck. Keats shrugged apathetically.

"I have nothing left to lose." She said. It an honest answer. It really bugged him the way she said it, too.

"So what happens now?" She asked. She almost sounded bored. It annoyed him.

"…I…I don't know. I lost my business, so I made you my hobby. The thrill of the chase. The thrill of the catch."

"I guess it's safe to assume you killed my best friend, huh?" She said. The words no longer pained her. It was liberating.

"Yeah…I did." He said, regretfully. Keats gave him a forgiving glance. She was far away from revenge and retribution. His regret was enough for her.

"What will you do after this?" She asked. The man in front of her had no direction, no purpose. She rather pitied him.

"…wait for Maria to get out of prison…" He mumbled.

"Not that I'm telling you how to run your life or anything, but…you should clean yourself up and become an asset to Miami-Dade. You'd still get to see me. Of course, you'd have to serve some time for this bridge madness…but I'd visit you."

"An asset? Yeah, right. I can't help anyone."

"Are you kidding? A guy with your connections can really help us out."

"Us? You mean you're a real CSI now?" He wondered, trying not to sound too interested.

"Well, if I ever make it back to Miami." She said. Haney smiled.

"All right. I'll take you back to Miami in my truck if you can get yourself out of that rope. That way I'll know you're worth saving which in turn means I'm worth saving."

Keats gave a slight nod. She may not have known how to stay out of trouble, but she knew how to change the wheels of fate when she got in too deep.

She also knew that Haney would never agree to work for Miami-Dade, but at least she'd got him thinking again. And she was one step closer to going home.

"Are you saying that whoever murdered Felix…they did it because of the book?" Chip asked.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Horatio said. Chip slid the book across the table gently. Horatio glanced at it with apprehension and intrigue.

"I'll have an officer look after you." He said as he stood. Within minutes, Calleigh was ushered in to be Chip's impromptu bodyguard.

"Mr. Sheldon…due to the nature if this case, I think it would be wise if you stayed away from your house." Calleigh said, walking with him down the street. It was a bright and sunny afternoon.

"Could we grab a bite to eat? I'm starving." Chip said.

They went to a crowded burger joint, sitting down on opposite sides of a booth. Calleigh yawned and watched as Chip Sheldon ordered a gigantic burger with a Diet Pepsi.

Soon, her attention was captured by a television in the corner. WFOR News was on, and Erica Sykes was on location in Boca Raton talking about Clavo Cruz's disgruntled partners. Clips of an interview with CSI Ryan Wolfe flashed across the scene every few minutes whenever relevant.

Calleigh's eyes narrowed a bit. Erica, as usual, was far too close for comfort. But now it seemed as though Ryan Wolfe was actually tolerating her. More than that…he was helping her out!

Ryan Wolfe was driving hard. He was driving mad as well. The airports had given him a runaround what with losing his itinerary, shipping his luggage to the wrong place, cancelling his flights. Ryan Wolfe rented a car instead.

He kept an eye on the clock at all times, speeding down the highways whenever they were empty. He had lost five hours already. It would take a miracle for him to make it on time.

A miracle didn't seem to be in the cards, however. Ryan had gotten lost twice and his rental car broke down 30 miles from the college where the graduation was being held.

He slammed the hood down, glancing at his watch with frustration. The ceremony had already begun.

Ryan grabbed his things and began to walk the long and lonely road toward the college, determined to see Keats' big moment.