A/N: I do not own CSI Miami or any of it's characters, affiliates...etc. This is just my imagination running with it! I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter One

Most People Just Call Me Lee

From the outside, the house looked like your average family home. The brick on the outside, neutral colored shudders and trim, white door, paved driveway. It wasn't bad looking from the street. But behind the closed doors, was a whole different story. She stared at the key in her hand detesting everything that it allowed in.

And it was never going to change. This was her life. And it would never get better. From the outside, you'd never know what lurked behind the shadows. She had good grades in school, lots of friends, and was even the girlfriend of the varsity basketball player. But no one ever knew. No one ever came to the house, and no one ever saw the tears, or the bruises. No one looked, because no one cared. From the outside, life was perfect. And her parents were all about keeping up appearances. So no one asked questions when she gave excuses for her broken arm, or her twisted ankle or wrist. No one asked about why she wore long sleeves or jeans almost always. No body questioned when she missed a random day at school here or there. No body, that was, until her father got stupid, and tried to extort from the wrong person, and got caught.

She looked up as the door sounded, startling her. She dropped the blade in the sink but wrapped her hand around the cut, putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding. The door knocked again. Leaving the blade where it fell, she left the paper towel on her skin and pulled her sleeve down over it as she made her way to the front of the house.

She hated being home alone sometimes, but others, was glad that she had the slight reprieve. Leaving the chain locked, she cracked the door open. "Can I help you?" she asked, staring at the two men standing there.

One was tall with red hair and she couldn't see his eyes through his shades. He was wearing a navy blue suit and had his hands on his hips, displaying his weapon and badge. The other man standing behind him towered over him by at least six inches and was wearing khakis with a button down short sleeve shirt. He had darker skin and his hair was cut very short.

"Miami Dade Police Department. Is your father home?" the red head stated.

Closing the door to slightly, she undid the chain bolt and opened the door.

She was wearing a pair of designer jeans and a long sleeve button down blue shirt, that looked like it was almost school uniform. She was clearly shaken for whatever reason. She had darker red hair that looked almost burgundy in the sunlight and blue eyes that matched her shirt almost perfectly.

"He um...he's at work as far as I know. He and my mom are attorneys and they work late hours sometimes. Is he in some kind of trouble?"

Studying the kid closely, he turned his eyes to her sleeve. "Are you alright?"

She followed his eyes. "Oh, yea...yeah, I was just...it's just a scrape." then she put her arm behind her, hiding the stained sleeve. Deflecting instantly she glared at him. "Do you need something?"

"Do you?"

She stared at him for a long moment, tearing up slightly before shaking her head. "No one is here right now. I'll let them know you stopped by though."

Clearly not talking any more, he took out his card and handed it to her. "My name is Lieutenant Horatio Caine and I'm with the Crime Lab. I need him to call me as soon as he can so I can ask him a few questions please."

Using the injured arm to grab the card, he held it for a moment before letting it go. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine." she whispered, and then looked away. Clearing her throat, she glanced up in the mans face again. "He should be home any time now if you want to wait."

"Thank you." he said softly, as she opened the door and let them in.

Why was he so insistent on helping her? She didn't understand it. No one wanted to help her. She tried once, to go for help. But her parents had sugar coated everything and no one believed her after that. She was beaten within an inch of her life after that, and she never made that mistake again. She was thirteen when it happened.

"Do you have a bathroom?"

"What?" she asked, almost unsure he had just asked her that.

"Bathroom?"

Closing her eyes, and shame marring her expression, she pointed toward the small room she had recently exited from herself, and prayed that he didn't find what was left there.

"Thanks."

Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the taller man and lead him to the living room. "Do you guys need something to drink while you wait? It shouldn't be much longer before they get here."

He shook his head. "My name is Walter by the way."

Taking a look around the small bathroom that was meticulously clean, he instantly noticed the blade, with a little bit of blood still on it, and the droplets in the sink. Picking it up gingerly, he laid it on a piece of tissue paper beside the sink. Washing his hands lightly as if to make it seem he wasn't looking around, he exited and walked to where he could hear the two of them talking. "Thank you." he said lightly, studying the kid as she moved through, trying to offer the men anything. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

His soft voice was comforting and it was hard to look away from him. Letting out her breath, she finally closed her eyes and looked at the floor. "Leona Hartford."

"Pretty name."

She shrugged. "Most people just call me Lee."

"Well Lee, thanks for letting us wait."

"I...I'll be right back." and she disappeared into the bathroom, cleaning up her mess. Dammit. He'd seen. She looked at her sleeve and disappeared into her bedroom, leaving the men in the living room while she changed her shirt. She would have to hide her shirt until she could clean the blood off of it. Then she bandaged the cut, making sure it wouldn't bleed through her shirt again then popped down stairs with a long sleeve t-shirt with holes for her thumbs to be in.

Not wanting to scare her off, he sat down, but barely on the edge of the couch. "You think your dad will be long?"

She shook her head. "Is he in some kind of trouble?" she asked him again.

"We just want to talk to him." She didn't trust them as far as she could throw them and she looked like she was ready for whatever they were going to throw at her. Her stance told him she was ready to fight or flee at any moment and she seemed jumpy. "You sure you're alright?"

"Yes. Would you stop asking me that already! People don't...never mind. I'm fine. Okay. Just leave it alone." and she almost let a tear down her face until she heard the car pull up. "My parents are home." and she went around the corner, opening the door.

Jeremy stepped in. "Leona? Who are these men? You know you're not supposed to have gentlemen over when..."

"Excuse me sir, we're with the Miami Dade Police Department. We're actually here to speak with you."

He straightened his tie, and looked at his wife, whom Leona was almost an exact replica of and stuck his hand out. "Jeremy Hartford. Attorney at law. How may I help you gentlemen?"

"We're looking into the murder of Jessica Stratson this morning."

"Jessica? Oh my gosh!" the girls mom piped in. Then she turned and put on her best smile, putting her hand out. "Hi! I'm Pepi Hartford. Nice to meet you." then she turned back to her husband. "Wasn't Jessica your intern?"

He nodded. "She was indeed." he answered her. "I thought it was odd when she didn't show up this morning. Do they know what happened?"

"No, unfortunately. We were hoping you could tell us when you saw her last."

"Well sure." he said, sounding as thoughtful as possible. "It was last night. We worked late and she hung in there until around seven thirty when the wife and I headed to dinner then came home. Seems to me like she was arguing with someone on the phone earlier in the day though."

"Would your office have records."

"Oh heavens no. I don't keep records of my employees personal cell phones."

"I understand." Horatio said softly. "Thanks for your help. We'll be in touch, and if you think of anything..."

"Sure! You'll be the first to know."

"Thanks." and he stepped out of the house. "We're going to be back here." he said to Walter as they got back in the Hummer. "That girl's in a hell of a lot of trouble."

"You think so?"

"There was a razor blade in the sink in the bathroom. We interrupted something when we knocked on the door. She's cutting. People don't cut unless they're desperate."

"Think she's being abused?"

"I'd bet my next paycheck on it Walter. Did you hear what her dad said when he first walked in? Not allowed to have gentlemen over while they weren't home? We'll hear from her again. I'm sure of it. I'm as sure of that as I am that her father had something to do with Jessica's death. Call it a hunch." he said as he started the vehicle.

"I've never argued with one of your hunches man."