Frank stood in the doorway expectantly as the two CSIs looked at each other, sharing some kind of unspoken communication that he was not privy to. He was beginning to feel a little awkward and uncomfortable, standing there like a lemon, until Horatio's soft voice caught his attention.
"Frank, would you mind giving us a moment please?"
"Sure, I've got a call to make anyway. I'll meet you in the hallway."
The Lieutenant waited until his colleague had left the room before turning his attention back to the woman sitting across from him. "Calleigh, I'm going to take the lead on this. The situation is likely to get out of control if we don't stamp down on it immediately."
His eyes narrowed as he watched the emotions flicker across her face, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for the gentle, yet patronising words that would come. She would once again pull her temporary superiority in rank over him, she would tell him that he wasn't ready to be back out in the field, that he needed more time to come to terms with what had happened.
Time was the last thing he needed, he had to get back out there and prove to himself, and the team, that he was still capable of leading the group and running the Lab. His run-in with Lori had shaken him more than he cared to admit, she had manipulated him to get her own way and he had shocked himself by how easily he'd let her. He didn't even want to think about what might have happened after he finally came to his senses and realised what a horrific mistake it would have been to sleep with his ex-wife.
No, it was best to get his head back in the game, to immerse himself in the case and make that his top priority instead of wallowing and moping at how complicated his life had become. He'd felt as if he'd been making progress with Jeff, having the opportunity to talk to someone who was not biased in their opinions had helped him to see things with a clearer sense of perspective. He'd never really placed much faith in talking before, perhaps it was because he'd only had himself to rely on for so long that it had become the only way that he knew how to cope.
As much as he was loathe to admit it, Jeff had provided a good sounding board and had given him the ability to see things differently. He had come to realise that he'd spent far too long avoiding what was staring him right in the face, stamping down on emotions that he needed to deal with. When he spoke with Jeff, there was no hint of condescension or accusation in the other man's voice, only patience and understanding.
The more consideration he gave it, the more certain he was that it was he himself that had made the difference, Jeff could have sat and talked at him for hours, telling him what he should or shouldn't be feeling. Yet he hadn't, the therapist had sat back and listened, occasionally nudging his reluctant client in the right direction until he came to the conclusions himself.
He was now conscious of the fact that he alone had taken those steps forward, he had been the one to choose happiness for once. He had taken responsibility for his own actions, once again finding the strength to stand on his own two feet. It could have been all too easy to give in to his despair, to find himself sucked further down into the maelstrom of his turbulent emotions, and who would have blamed him?
Yet it wasn't who he was, giving in was not part of his make-up, his steely determination had been borne from years of pain and loneliness, he had simply fought too hard to get to this point only to give up now. His physical and mental strength had taken a horrendous knock recently, but he had somehow managed to weather the storm with Calleigh by his side.
His lack of sexual functioning and his actions, or lack thereof, at the warehouse last week had proved to him that he was no longer coping and that his issues were becoming more than he could deal with. He'd tried to convince everyone, including himself, that he was still the man they knew, the man that they could rely on. But last week had only gone to show just how far he had fallen from his lofty perch as the head of the Crime Lab. He wasn't the man he had thought he was, not anymore.
It was only when he had hit rock bottom that he could appreciate just how much of an uphill battle it would be to regain his confidence in a job that he had taken for granted as being like second nature to him. For years, he had never given much thought to how difficult his job was, he just kept his head down and ploughed on through, one tough case to the next, never giving much consideration to the toll it took on him.
Wasn't the first step to overcoming a problem admitting that you had one in the first place?
Well, he had swallowed his pride and admitted that he wasn't coping, albeit in a rather reluctant fashion. He had met with the therapist because he felt he had no choice, not wanting to admit to the small part of him that was tired of fighting and putting up a front for the benefit of those around him. He had expected Jeff to berate him for his foolhardiness and lecture him on talking about his feelings. Yet he hadn't, Jeff had sat and listened to him as he gradually began unburdening himself of the memories and feelings that he had kept hidden for too long.
He had taken the first few steps, albeit small ones, in the right direction. He had overcome his fears in regards to his sexual inadequacies and had found himself pleasantly surprised at the effect that his touch had on Calleigh, giving him a small sense of hope that his virility had not waned as much as he thought it had. He had taken control of a potentially explosive situation between Ryan and Eric and had managed to diffuse the tension before it had spilled over into something much more serious and ugly.
Perhaps it was naïve of him to believe that he was strong enough to deal with Lori, yet he knew he had to try in order to take another step towards moving away from his past. He had to set the demons of his time in New York to rest once and for all. He had underestimated just how wily and manipulative she could be when it came to him. She had always had a hold over him, she had the rare ability to make him seek meek and passive as he wilted against her continued onslaught of his mind and body.
He had come so close to making the biggest mistake of his life, but he'd found the strength to somehow break away from Lori, this time for good. Never before had he been able to deny her whatever she wanted, she had always had her way in the end, and he had always let her, as she dragged his name and his ego through the mud time and again.
But this had been the last time that she would play her games with him, and this time she would not win. He had come away from their meeting emotionally battered and bruised, yet somehow still standing. He had stood firm and come out on top for once, or so he hoped.
Their reunion had drained him physically and emotionally, he had found himself falling back into that pit of despair that he had worked so hard to drag himself out of only to find Calleigh's hands held out, waiting to drag him back up and over the ledge to more stable ground. God, she had been his lifeline for so long now, had she not been around he would likely have faded away into nothing. She alone gave him the strength to carry on, now she needed to show her faith in him by letting him do this.
There were no two ways about it, he needed to do this.
He soon became conscious of the fact that they had been staring at each other for the last few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts.
"Ok," she said finally.
"Ok?" he repeated, unsure if he'd heard her correctly.
"You take the lead on this, but keep me updated. I want to know the minute anything happens."
For such a controlled man, he had a hard time keeping the look of shock off of his face. He willed his professionalism to slip back into place as he cleared his throat and walked towards her, placing a hand on her arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You have my word, Ma'am," he told her with a small smile.
God, she loved it when he called her Ma'am, how could he make one word sound so sexy?
He gave her a genuine smile as he made his way to the door, intent on finding Frank and getting himself immersed in the case.
"Horatio?" she called as he turned around. "I just have one question before you leave."
He looked at her expectantly.
"Where's your cell phone? Ky-…er, someone rang the house yesterday trying to reach you, I checked your pants pocket but it wasn't in there."
The memory of his childish fit of temper returned to him quickly, visions of him throwing his phone into the wall so hard that it smashed to pieces flew unbidden through his mind. His cheeks flamed in embarrassment at his lack of control. "I…uh…..it's still at my house…..um….broken."
He didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes, so chose to keep his gaze to the ground instead. It took him by surprise when she wordlessly walked up to him and passed her own cell phone to him, "Take this," she said as she placed it in his hand, folding his fingers over it gently, causing him to look directly into her eyes. "Be careful."
He nodded his head and gave her another small smile, "Always, Ma'am."
She watched him leave, much like she had only a few days ago when he had set off for the tumultuous showdown with Laura. Her eyes followed his retreating form as she watched the door close, hearing Horatio talking with Frank, their voices diminishing as they headed along the corridor.
Sitting herself back behind the desk, she took a deep breath and hoped that Horatio's uncharacteristic behaviour was no more than a small wobble, an obstacle that he would quickly overcome. He had asked her to give him space and place her faith in him, she just hoped she hadn't overestimated how far he had come recently.
No, she told herself, Horatio was a strong man, certainly strong enough to deal with the current case the team were handling. He would never find his independence if she didn't let him off the leash, the time would come, sooner or later, when she would have to cut loose the ties that she had held onto for far too long. He would have to stand on his own two feet at some point, she just prayed that now was the right time to test that theory.
He closed the office door quietly as he made his way closer to Frank, stopping when he heard the gruff detective bark into his phone. "What do you mean you can't find him?...Don't give me Goddamn excuses….find him!...I want him back at the Department by the end of the day, you hear me?...No, I don't care what you have to do, drag his ass back here in cuffs if you have to…I want his head and so help me God…..if you don't find out where the hell your sorry excuse for a partner is, it'll be your head that rolls. You got it?"
He watched on in detached amusement as Frank gave one of his poor colleagues a fearful talking to, his lips curved up into a small smile as a twinge of sympathy for the person on the other end of the phone washed over him. His gaze averted for only a second by a passing lab technician, he found himself staring into the Texan's angry eyes. "Trouble, Francis?" he asked evenly, not wanting to admit that he got a small sense of satisfaction from watching his old partner go at it with someone.
"Nothing I can't handle, Horatio," the taller man replied as he shoved his phone back into his inside jacket pocket. "You leading this one then?"
"I am," the Lieutenant replied as he stood side on, his hands running distractedly over the now-familiar glasses in his hands. "Care to get me up to speed?"
Frank let out a deep sigh, placing his hands on his hips as he spoke. "Not much more to tell you than we already know. Dr Kooky-nuts has Fernandez's body down in autopsy, Eric and Ryan were processing the scene last I heard."
Horatio quirked an eyebrow at his colleague at his succinct and rather surly summary of the case so far. "Any luck tracking down our errant detective?"
"Yeah, so much for the solidarity of brotherhood. The rest of the night shift threw him straight under the bus when the shit hit the fan this morning. It was Viggo."
"Lenny?" The surprise was evident in Horatio's voice as he spoke. From what he knew of the man, he was a fine detective with a good reputation within the Department. Perhaps things had changed considerably in his months away from the daily comings and goings of the MDPD. "I thought he was a good man….trustworthy."
"Well, it appears not. I know he wasn't happy being transferred to nights, things haven't been good between him and his wife for a while now. Maybe working the graveyard shift was the final straw for him. Still doesn't excuse what he did though, he's run off and left us to deal with the fallout."
"You think his partner will find him?"
"He better….if he knows what's good for him."
They had quickly reached the front of the building, Frank held the door open for his colleague to follow him. They both stood on the steps and watched the myriad patrol cars park up and then pull away from the building. "Nice to see you back in the saddle, Horatio."
The Lieutenant winced at his colleague's words as they sounded more patronising to his ears than Frank had likely realised. He stood awkwardly, fidgeting with the ID badge on his belt as he placed his sunglasses on. Squinting his eyes, he saw a familiar figure in the distance, that of a man he had once known, many years ago. The muscled man walked further towards the steps of the building, his gait firm and purposeful.
"Hey, I want a word with you, Caine!" the voice shouted as he stomped ever nearer the steps.
He saw Frank's hand move immediately towards his firearm, he shook his head as he communicated his request for his colleague to stand down. He stood still and placed his hands on his hips as he gave his visitor a visual once-over. "Cesar, it's been too long."
"Not long enough for you perhaps," the bulky figure of Cesar Donato shot back as he stood at the bottom of the steps.
"Perhaps. I hear they let you out for good behaviour. Tell me, are you a changed man, Cesar?"
"What's it matter to you, Caine? Us poor kids, we're all the same to you, aren't we?"
"Only the ones who choose to rape and murder innocent women, yes."
"I told you I didn't do it, but you weren't gonna believe a street kid like me. Blame it on a Spanish kid from the slums, easier than trying to pin it on a white boy. Ain't that right?"
"Cesar, if I had a dollar for every criminal who told me they didn't do it, I'd be a very rich man by now," Horatio sighed dramatically.
Cesar stood tall in his tight white vest and cut-off khaki pants, looking every inch the Mala Noche gang member Horatio knew him to be. His muscled arms were covered in sleeves of tattoos, a thick gold chain hung around his neck, no doubt stolen from some poor, unsuspecting victim that he had his gang friends had mugged at gunpoint. It seemed that prison had not changed the man much, except to make him even bitterer towards the police than he already was.
Men like Cesar were common in Miami, for every good citizen, there were a dozen more criminals roaming the streets. The city had certainly been a safer place without Cesar in it, and experience told him it would not be long before the man found himself once again in a 6x10 cell, with no one to blame but himself. He gave the man before him a cursory look and was relieved to find that he hadn't been stupid enough to walk up to the Department building carrying a weapon.
"Was there something I can do for you, Cesar?" he asked finally as he gazed off into the distance.
"Yeah, I wanna know who spread the word about Jesus. That boy was a good kid and now he's dead. One your pig friends put it about that he was some kind of grass."
"Jesus was a suspect in a double homicide, maybe he wasn't the innocent boy you thought he was."
"So you're just gonna sweep it under the rug like he don't matter?"
"Not at all, we get justice for all the victims. You should know that here in Miami...we never close."
Cesar stepped forward in a deliberate act of defiance as Frank once more made a move for his gun. The Lieutenant stepped forward himself until they were only a few feet away from each other.
"I'm warning you, Caine. You better hope you find that cop before I do or I'm gonna have his head on a pike, you hear me?"
"I do, Cesar. I do. Consider this a warning too," he began as he leaned closer to the Hispanic man, his voice low and menacing. "If I find that you've harmed any of my colleagues in any way you'll be spending the rest of your time in a box much smaller than a prison cell. Do I make myself clear?"
The two men stared at each other, neither willing to give the other an inch.
"Guess we've got ourselves an impasse, haven't we?"
"It appears we do, Cesar. You take care now, I'll be seeing you." Horatio turned his back and made his way back up to the steps, smiling as Cesar called out to him.
"Maybe sooner than you think, hombre."