MISSING

Chapter 5

They had been searching for an hour. It was slow painstaking work in this terrain. They were working in a fan shape, using the direction of the footprints as a guide. Frank had allocated a section to Eric and Calleigh, and, with the airwaves open, they worked in silence. They could hear, over the intercom, the sounds from other searchers, crackling of twigs, rustling, the occasional muttered curse.

Then, suddenly, startlingly loud, "Baker to Tripp…"

And Frank's Texan voice. "What, Baker?"

"We've found him, Sarge." The man sounded shaken.

"Position? Right, on my way. Everyone stay put."

Eric and Calleigh stared briefly at each other.

"You know the way?" Calleigh asked, ignoring Frank's last words.

Eric nodded. Together, they crashed through the scrub, small branches whipping painfully against skin. It wasn't far. There were three PD officers, standing staring at the ground. The body, face down, was dirty, scratched, but not heavily bloodied. He was clad only in tee shirt and undershorts. The pale freckled skin and red hair were unmistakeable.

Calleigh gasped, then fell to her knees beside him. Dead… Had to be - no one was touching him… She reached out a shaking hand, touching his neck. The skin was cold. And yet… Automatically, she felt for the carotid pulse…

Eric knelt the other side of the body, his face anguished. "Is he..?"

She shook her head. However much she wished it… Then she felt the faintest throb under her fingers. She frowned and stared at Eric.

"Something?"

"I don't know. I thought…" She repositioned her fingers and pressed again. And again felt the faint pulse. "He's alive!"

Frank arrived, panting a little.

"Calleigh?"

"There's a very faint pulse. Get Rescue!" She looked at Eric, who seemed momentarily paralysed. "Help me."

Together they turned him over. His face was gray, scratched… Eyes closed. She leant close. She couldn't feel his breath.

Eric murmured, "Are you sure? He's not breathing…" He picked up a limp arm, feeling for a pulse there.

"Anything?"

Eric nodded slowly. "I think so… I'm not sure… It's hardly there… I could be imagining…"

"He's icy cold."

"If he's been out here all night…"

"Have we got blankets? Anything?"

She looked round at the horrified faces, but Frank quickly took charge. "Fetch whatever you've got. Quick as you can." They seemed glad to get away.

Eric slid his arms round his boss's body and eased him into his arms, rubbing his shoulders, using all he had - his own body heat - to try to warm him. "Is he injured - that you can see?"

Calleigh gently ran her hands over the cold body. "No - few scratches - no major bleeding. Is he breathing?"

Eric nodded. "Very faintly. We're going to lose him any minute, Cal…" His voice broke.

"We're not going to lose him. Just hang onto him, Eric."

Frank, still on the phone, tapped her on the shoulder. "They're sending an air ambulance in."

She nodded. An officer came running back with a couple of reflective blankets. Together, they wrapped him and lowered him back to the ground. Eric looked at his hand, which was blood-smeared. He gently parted Horatio's red hair.

"He's got a head wound…"

"Shot?"

Eric shook his head. "He's been whacked on the head. There was blood and hair on the Hummer."

"Is he still…?"

Eric leant forward, his face against Horatio's. "He's breathing… Just…"

After what seemed an interminable time, they heard the air ambulance arriving, but it still took fifteen more minutes - with Eric and Frank helping to carry the stretcher, and Calleigh running alongside - to get Horatio into the helicopter.

"Go with him, Eric." She watched it lift off, wondering, momentarily, if her boss was actually still alive.

Back at the lab, Calleigh tried desperately to concentrate on the case. If anything happened, Eric would call… Meanwhile, she was in charge, and they had a missing boy, and a murder to solve, and… Her thoughts drifted back to Horatio. Horatio, closer to death than to life. Concentrate, damn it… Needing someone to help her do that, she went to find Frank. She wasn't sure why she went to him, rather than one of the team, except that she knew he would understand.

The detective was sitting at his desk, staring, unseeing at nothing. He looked up, startled, at Calleigh.

"How did he survive, Calleigh? Twelve hours out there…"

"He's a tough one, Frank."

"He must be." He shook his head. "Sorry, what can I do for you?"

"Help me with my missing boy. You were saying something about the vehicle, then all hell broke loose…"

"Oh, yes. We've got a name on the registered owner. The VIN Delko found gave it to us. And a picture from his driving license. Name's Robert Rosso."

"But that's great."

"Not that great. I sent someone to bring him in, and he's not there. I've got the house under surveillance, in case he comes back. Oh, and I've asked for CCTV from the two roads nearest the entrance to the 'glades. Not sure what I'm looking for, but assuming our perps got home somehow… I haven't looked at it yet. Wanna help?"

"Of course. I need to be doing something."

They poured over the always indistinct CCTV footage, starting at five the previous day.

"There's your chase," Frank murmured. They watched the Durango, speeding towards the 'glades, with the police cruiser hot on its tail. "Maybe we can see the occupants."

"Shall I call Dave Benton – he's the best at manipulating these things?"

"In a minute. Let's just see if we can spot them later."

"How much later?"

"Well, after dark, according to Delko. They've got to take the Hummer, get it stuck… Assume they struggle with it for a bit, then walk. Probably trying to get somewhere they could be picked up… So… we can skip to nine o'clock, d'you think?"

They trawled through hours of footage from the road the chase had taken place on, but saw nothing suspicious. They moved to the camera on another possible exit road. Again they were drawing a blank.

"He's in a hurry," Calleigh murmured, indicating a car heading into the 'glades.

"At three in the morning… Let's have a closer look." They froze the image. The detail on night-time footage, even with street lights, was poor. "What is that – an old Chevy?"

"Something old… Can we get the license plate?"

"Just make a note of the time. We'll get your Benton on all the suspicious bits."

They went on. Anyone heading into the 'glades in the early hours was arguably suspicious, but there weren't many and nothing caught their eye. Until…

Suddenly, Calleigh said, "Stop! Is that the Chevy again?"

Frank froze the footage. "Good call. It looks like it. How long has he been?"

"Only forty minutes… Not long enough to actually go anywhere…"

"Time to pick someone up though. We may be wrong, but time to call in your expert."

"I'll take the tapes to the lab."

Frank chuckled. "Nothing to take, Cal. You're behind the times. City's CCTV is all wi-fi since a month ago." He scribbled down a few file names, and times, and passed it to her. "There you go."

Dave Benton was keen to help. Also keen for news. Calleigh was aware that she hadn't made an announcement and that rumors would be rife.

"Is it true about H?"

"Depends what you've heard." She relented. "He was attacked in the 'glades last night. He's in hospital."

"Jesus! Is it bad?"

"Yes, it is. But Eric's with him." She didn't want to say anymore. She didn't know anymore. "Look, we need your help on some CCTV…" She smiled weakly. "Do you mind me looking over your shoulder?"

"Nope. Not at all. Let's see what we can do. Occupants and license plates?"

"If you can."

TBC