A/N: I apologize for the lateness of this, I really do. University got in the way, but I'm trying to stay a couple of chapters ahead, and should hopefully get back on track this week. Thanks for you patience! Oh, and I still don't own anything, in case anyone forgot.

Chapter Three

A couple of days had passed, and Calleigh was back at work. Everyone had given her the pity glance from the corner of their eyes when she'd shown up yesterday morning, but most were smart enough not to comment.

Unfortunately that didn't extend to her team. Horatio had cornered her in the morning in the locker room to ask how she was. She'd favoured him with a small smile, and replied that she wasn't doing any good sitting at the hospital, or her house, moping. After being reassured that she would tell him if she needed anything, he'd left her to get ready. Not five seconds after he had left Ryan had come in.

"Hey, Calleigh, I'm really sorry to hear about your Dad, how's he doing?"

"Still in a coma. The hospital's running more tests today."

"That's rough, Cal. If you need anything, if there's anything I can do…"

"Thanks Ryan, I appreciate it." Calleigh let out a breath as Ryan accepted that and headed off to the lab. She had learned to get along with Ryan these last months, heck, she kind of even liked the guy, but she didn't really feel comfortable sharing her feelings with him yet. Especially with the case that brought him to their team at the forefront of her mind. With all of these thoughts tumbling around in her head, she finally managed to get her stuff put away and escape into firearms, or her lab, as she liked to think of it. Glancing at the report sitting on her desk from the Waters case, she picked it up, ready to lose herself in her work. The reprieve was short-lived though, as Eric opened the door to her lab and let himself in.

"Calleigh, what are you doing here? Has your Dad woken up yet? How's he doing? How are you doing?" Eric was concerned. Of the whole team he had spent the most time with Calleigh these past days, sitting with her at the hospital after work, making sure she ate, and that she took some time for herself.

"I'm fine, Eric, thank you. No, he hasn't woken up yet, but believe me, you'll be the first to know." Calleigh favoured him with a small smile. "I was kind of hoping to get back to the case, actually. Take a break from all this."

"Of course. I can give you the rundown of what we've gotten these past couple of days. First off, no hits on IBIS for the bullet, so we ran weapons licenses for all the people that were at the barbeque. Got three hits. Two of them checked out, one gun having definitely not been fired anytime in what looks like the last decade, let alone the last week, and the other was a revolver, definitely not the source of the bullets and casings we found. The firearms tech from nights took a look at the bullets; according to the lands and grooves they came from a .38, likely a semiautomatic as we found three bullets with no signs of flight or defense from the vic. As you already know two of the shots were through and through, one nonlethal through his shoulder, and the second severing his aorta, which Alexx ruled as COD. The third missed him, which was why it was stuck in that fence so deeply."

"Wow, that's lots to go on. So what's the scoop on this third party-goer?"

"Don't miss a thing, do you?"

Calleigh just smiled up at Eric, her eyes telling him to get on with the evidence.

"Okay, so he's a little more interesting. Has a registered .38 Special, in fact. His name's Walter O'Keefe, and he has been conspicuous only in his absence the last three days. His office says he called in to use some of his vacation days, with no indication of when he'd return."

"So, he's definitely shaping up to be our prime suspect, huh?"

"He's acting that way at least. Tripp put out an APB on his car, state wide, and he's working on a warrant for his house. If nothing turns up he'll widen the APB to the surrounding states. However, from talking to the other party guests something tells me the only prize this guy will be winning is for stupidity, so I'm sure he'll turn up sooner rather than later."

"Okay, so what are you guys up to right now?"

"Ryan's working on some trace fabric he found in the alley - though with nothing to compare it too, he probably won't get very far - and Horatio, Tripp, and I are on our last day of statements from the partygoers. We still need to talk to the wife; she was pretty shaken up, but she should be better today. Actually, I should probably head over there right now, but I'd heard you were in, and wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Thank you, Eric," Calleigh said, the feeling behind her words evident.

"For what? It's nothing, you'd do the same for me." He flashed her one of those Eric smiles.

"No, really. The last couple of days have meant a lot to me, and I haven't thanked you for that. I've really appreciated your company and help."

"Anything for you, Calleigh. By the way, have you gotten a hold of your mother yet?"

"No." Calleigh's forehead creased into a frown. She'd gotten a new cellphone the day her father had gone into the hospital, realizing the perils of being without. She'd been calling her mom ever since, wanting to let her know about dad, but all she'd ever gotten was a tinny machine voice encouraging her to leave a message. Which she'd done. Five times. "I'm sure she's just on vacation or something. She'll call me back soon."

Eric gave her a look.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

Her new cellphone chose that moment to make its presence known.

She glanced at the caller ID, then back up at Eric.

"Well?" he asked. "Are you going to answer it?"

"It's the hospital," Calleigh replied. She tentatively flipped it open, mentally preparing herself for bad news, glad for Eric's presence. "Calleigh Duquesne," she answered.