A/N: I AM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG, School is a byotch
Horatio, Mac and their respective CSIs (c) CBS, Daikonran and Secondet (c) my sister
13, Song
Despite the CSI intrusion's inconvenience, Stuart's murderous hands held a precious corpse. He cradled what was once an unrelated victim of domestic abuse, a Lillian Watson, her dress wispy against the morning breeze. His first meal ticket under Marla Ruez and Otis had the inordinate desire to play his sadistic game. She looked like an aged wicker doll, twiggy hands and straw hair included. The dark decomposition depressions around its face had yet to recover from the ritual but it didn't matter to the pedophile, it had been too long since his last exhilarant kill high.
Two shots rang spot on, alarming Stuart out of his sociopathic trance; something had gone down between the santera and the crime scene investigators. He quickly regained composure and proceeded to escape through the broken down shed just out of reach. The little girl's hands dangled limp as Otis managed to barely elude the investigators; Marla would be infuriated to know he only got one of the four girls he was supposed to get.
Doña Socorro screamed at the top of her lungs as she reacted to the bullets striking the nearby tree; the projectile flew so close to her cheekbones that she had brunt skin along the trail. She released Ryan from her potentially lethal hold and dropped to the floor. Kino immediately scooped up the woman and handcuffed her as fast as he could while Ryan choked some breaths into his lungs.
"Doña Socorro; you are hereby guilty of desecration of hollow grounds decreed by the Tanzler clause in the city of Miami Florida. You are also in gross violation of the Loraine law in the Eastern States of the United States of America." Daikonran recited almost perfectly as the CSI called for back up. Just a few minutes later as the sun shone splendidly, it greeted Ryan's bewildered face.
"Tanzler clause? Loraine Law? I've never heard of those."
The young man simply smiled, "Just you wait until you search a real santera."
Mac growled, he disliked Speedle's scent; it reminded him too much of carnage. But he couldn't help feel pity for the shaking mess that was once his would-be assassin. Horatio helped the reanimated corpse jump onto the back of his Hummer and made sure he was secure. The light hit the automobile in a way that it seemed surreal; the morning traffic was in full-blown mode.
"I'd best get you to a bed; you've been up almost 50 hours." The lieutenant offered to his Yankee counterpart; demon or not, one must sleep. He was replied with a shrouded moan; Taylor's receding claws gleaming as he returned to his more human side. For a split second, Mac could almost swear he heard a loud flap just besides him.
"How did it feel?" a female voice asked Taylor as he removed the last of the bandages from his recently operated eye. Stella's curiosity matched that of a kitten's with it's first mouse, unsure but discreetly eager. She held her breath as the golden hues dissipated to Mac's usual bluish-green color.
"How does what feel?"
"Not being human anymore…"
"The Tanzler clause is basically 'thou shalt not steal a corpse from its last resting place'. It mostly applies to behavior deviants in which the deceased are involved. This includes Felicity's case in the sense that the victim party had no consent to be returned." The former bounty hunter explained as he covered Tyler before the sun would hit him and reduce him to a pile of ash.
"And the Loraine law?"
A sigh slipped from Daikonran's mouth, this one was a bit more complex. "The trick is that the Loraine Law and the Tanzler clause are eerily similar except one thing; the Loraine law is in favor of the undead who experience rational thought. Had this idiot claimed it, his testimony would've been inadmissible in a court of law because we would be tampering with testimony."
Ryan scratched his head, slightly confused. "And here I thought we only had laws against pillaging."
Otis rushed under the nearby bridge. The flat terrain was working against his bulkier frame plus the added weight of the little dead girl in his hands. If by what Miss Ruez had clearly demonstrated in chokehold rang true, he'd be in serious trouble. The small creature stirred a bit, her proverbial sleep was wearing off, meaning it was time to drop her off at the St. Lucia. Countless times did Marla ingrain to Stuart's mind that the motel was the center for her dollhouse business; it was the drop-off for the santeras as well as their merchandise, the exchange between the go-between and client and the return post for all profits.
In his desperation, Stuart almost did not perceive the ongoing investigation in said inn. Heading the processing was a slightly ticked Detective Frank Tripp. Calleigh had asked him to make that short stop before picking up Walter Thompson over at the accounting division of Thompson Steel Refineries. Up to where he knew, this case was as distorted as Kino's logic; there was everything from undead girls roaming around, prostitution, and good wholesome gore.
Why can't this freaky crap stay in the movies?
Frank never lived down the fact that Horatio had been abducted under his jurisdiction, even more when a sociopath had included in his patterns. The lieutenant accepted his apologies without hesitation, almost blaming himself for not being careful enough. But the image of Horatio tied down with syringes, intravenous tubing and laid bare in blood proved traumatizing to both him and his team. He wasn't going to let this case slip away; so after getting the updated report on the crime scene, he hopped on his car and sped to Miami's business district.
When he arrived, the Grant building stood similar to all the other big-firm buildings it faced in all cardinal direction. The steel refinery held its own in the 12th floor, forcing the detective to ride two elevators and a labyrinth of desk shades. Frank finally found Mr. Thompson in a glass office that overlooked the greater part of the city. The back of his chair chillingly faced the detective as he announced his presence. Said seat turned with a grin on his face and a falsely welcoming tone spoke;
"Hello, detective. How may I help you?"
Something ain't right.
Back up took Doña Socorro back to the building but now the remaining CSI had the task of cleaning up and cataloging the remains of whatever the woman was creating. Ryan shuddered at the thought that reanimation was a real possibility and pictured himself walking mindlessly. He took out his Nikon camera and proceeded to capture the anteroom and the living room.
Kino trusted his instincts and went ahead towards the backyard with a camera, a few pointers and a shovel. He marked a 12 x 12 square quadrant and began to dig; he had done a bounty in Pennsylvania in which the suspect buried himself alive just to avoid capture. Nothing to lose by giving the trick a shot. The Florida sun shone brightly 6: 30 am, Erica Sykes would go in syndication in 5…4…3…2…1…
A/N: Reviews are welcomed