The Return

Chapter 12

Frank studied the sheriff for a moment then asked, "Is that the only airfield around?"

"No, there's a couple of others – one private; hunting and fishing lodge. Then there are a couple in Glacier, those are federal, one of them is closed," the man answered.

Frank pressed his lips together and wiped a couple of fingers across the stubble that now covered his chin. "We need to look into that group that arrived today, find out what company they're with. I suspect they could be our Russians. By the way, how many men can you spare?"

"I can put four on this – wish I had more, but we're a small force. We'll start with the municipal airport, and then check the private."

The sheriff looked at his watch, "If we start now, we might can catch Hubert before he leaves. I imagine the manager has left for the day at the other one. We'll check it in the morning. The ones up in the park will take the longest to get to; we're about forty miles from the nearest field. The abandoned one is even further."

Jared Buckley then stood as he commented, "Gentlemen, we'll do our best to help find your missing friend, but I'm not going to say it will be easy. If we don't find any lead in town, the mountains will prove difficult. The winter snows have already started at the higher elevations, but we'll have one advantage – me. I've lived here all my life and I've hunted and trapped in those mountains for most of it."

Frank and Walter looked at each other before Walter turned back to the sheriff commenting, "Let's hope we don't have to use your knowledge. We're definitely not oriented to snow."

At the far end of the room, a massive stone fireplace rose to the ceiling. The raised hearth beckoned those seeking warmth to sit, but Horatio and Calleigh chose the large floor cushions, leaning back against an over-stuffed sofa in front of the fire, enabling them to look out at the snow-covered mountains surrounding the lodge. The view through the floor to ceiling glass wall which soared to a point at the roofline was breathtaking.

Calleigh finished describing the funeral given in his honor while studying his solemn face as he sat before her, knowing that it disturbed him to hear about all the ceremony given in his honor.

She looked down at her hand resting on his leg, "It was heart wrenching Horatio; especially for me, but also for the team as well." She lifted her watery eyes back to his having relived those horrible days once again.

He reached out and softly caressed her cheek, noticing the pain still very evident in her large green eyes as they glimmered with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry… so sorry Sweetheart. I would never have done that to you, or the others. You mentioned that Ryan blamed himself for what happened to me?" He inquired as he diverted his gaze to the dancing blue and orange flames of the fire before returning his attention to Calleigh. "It wasn't his fault… it was mine. The agents told me what happened when I woke up in the hospital. I don't remember anything about it." He smiled slightly as he continued, "I evidently let my guard down." He sighed and closed his eyes momentarily before adding, "They suspect it was Deidra, but didn't find proof. The whole reason for making everyone think I'm dead is that they're hoping she'll show herself around Miami now that I'm gone. She came straight from Moscow with the sole purpose of securing Miami for the mafia."

"The team was working on finding out who shot you when I left. We also suspected her. If only we could have stopped her…"

He searched her eyes, his expression quickly becoming stern countered, "Hey… you know we can't work on what ifs. I won't let you do that to yourself Calleigh."

He's right. In my career, that fact has been proven time and time again by watching others end up emotionally broken over the question, 'what if I'd handled it differently?' Or what if… and the list goes on and on.

"You're right. It's just…"

"I know Sweetheart… the last month or so has been very difficult."

The fire was dying down so he got up and added a couple of more logs. That task done, he came back and gingerly lowered himself to the floor cushions and gathered Calleigh in his arms. They watched the fire ignite into a roaring blaze once again and she snuggled closer, relishing the feeling of his warmth once again, as she lay her head on his shoulder then softly asked,

"Tell me about what you went through."

Horatio didn't respond for a few moments. He let out a long breath and then looked down into her inquisitive gaze.

"Not much to tell… I don't remember most of it." He looked back at the fire as he continued. "I was told that once I stabilized, I was moved out of Miami to a hospital in Denver. That's where I woke up." He smiled recalling the nurses asking if Calleigh was his wife's name. They told me that I called out for her while I was feverish.

Looking back into her eyes he revealed, "The nurses told me I called out your name… when I was out of it. I do remember one thing, you were the first thought that came to my mind when I woke up."

"I wish I could've been with you. It angers me what little concern the FBI had for your life. I mean, I know they provided medical care, but they manipulated you as well as those who love you."

Horatio clenched his jaw just before answering, "I agree."

"How do you feel now?"

"Sore… weaker than I'd like. Plus, if I move the way I did when I slugged Cross, it creates a radiating pain from the wound, but I'll be ok. I'm actually in better shape than I was."

Returning to silence once again, she knew he didn't want to talk about it further so, she was content to just stay in his arms enjoying the fire and the scene outside. The sun's golden light was now illuminating the sky as it slowly sank behind the mountain peaks.

In a short time, she found herself gradually drifting off until his voice broke the silence.

"Why did you leave the lab… and Miami?"

The shock registered on her face at his question, but before she could answer, the door to the room opened and a woman's bellowing voice filled the air. Calleigh sat up quickly and looked at Horatio who grinned broadly.

"Dinnertime!" The heavyset older woman called out as she approached the pair.

Placing the tray of food on a nearby table, she smiled warmly looking at the young blond woman standing before her.

Horatio began, "Hella Mencken, I'd like you to meet Calleigh Duquesne."

Hella was a short, stocky German woman, in her late seventies, who wore her long gray hair in a knot high on the back of her head. She had worked in the various FBI safe houses for a several years. Having immigrated to the United States in her forties, she married quickly, but lost her husband to cancer ten years ago. The work with the FBI was rewarding, giving her the opportunity to help people who most of the time found themselves in dire situations. Mr. Horatio, as she fondly called him, was different. Having been around him a little while, she found him to be a good man, a strong proud man, yet deeply troubled. Hella thought his face looked a little more peaceful now. She had hoped when his lady friend arrived that he would feel better. The older woman knew he had been injured and was here to heal in a safe environment; only she sensed something else was troubling the friendly redhead that had nothing to do with his physical status.

Hella smiled warmly as she studied the young woman standing before her.

In her still heavy German accent she softly responded, "Mr. Horatio right – very pretty. He told me you come. I take good care of him – now I take good care of you! You travel a long way; you must be tired." Then her tone of voice changed to one more motherly. "I fix good hot soup and bread for you. You eat then you go to bed." Realizing a little too late how her suggestion sounded, Hella's fair skin instantly turned bright red. Shrugging her shoulders, she looked down at the floor quickly to hide her embarrassment.

Calleigh smiled and Horatio chuckled at the woman's words. "Thank you Hella," Calleigh replied then continued, "And thank you for taking care of Horatio. I know he's benefited from your help. She looked up at Horatio standing beside her.

"Hella has definitely helped. About that rest…" Horatio added as he tightened his arm around Calleigh and then leaned down kissing her forehead noticing her tired eyes, "I couldn't agree more."

Later that night, Horatio slid under the thick down comforter beside Calleigh, the movement caused her eyes to open slightly, and she realized that she had dozed off while Horatio was in the shower.

"Ummm," she murmured as her body sought the warmth of his.

Smiling, he watched her a moment then leaned down and lightly kissed her lips as he settled his close to her whispering, "Go back to sleep Sweetheart." He relished the thought of finally lying beside Calleigh. For a while, I never thought this moment would come – the opportunity to once again feel her warm, soft and sensuous body next to mine. He closed his eyes, pushing down the feeling of wanting to take her in his arms and make passionate love to this woman who possessed his heart. After all she's been through, how could I even think of…

Horatio's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by her soft, imploring voice.

"Make love to me Handsome… I need to feel you."

Frank and Walter sat in a booth at a local diner discussing their visit to the municipal airport earlier that evening.

Walter started to bring the sandwich to his mouth, but set it back down in the plate. Looking up in puzzlement at Frank Tripp, who sat facing him, the young man stated,

"There's something screwy going on. I still don't get it. Now that we know Deidra and her crew are out here, what are they looking for? How could it be Calleigh – what has she done to warrant their attention?"

Frank swallowed his bite of food and stared at the table for a few seconds before letting out an exasperated sigh as he sat back hard against the seat.

"I agree. Something is going on and I don't like it. The woman is dangerous. When I called Eric with an update about Deidra being out here, he confirmed that new evidence shows her as being Horatio's killer." His words hung heavy in the air between them. Frank still could not wrap his head around the fact that his best friend was dead.

"Hopefully, we'll find out more information at the car rental place tomorrow. I just wish we could have gone there tonight, but these little towns close up at dark. I think we need to call it a night too… we both need sleep," Frank offered.

The young man stared out the large plate-glass window to the street below. The sun was setting in the west signifying the end of another day in the Miami office of the FBI. Walking to the door with his briefcase in one hand, he pulled out his cell phone with the other. Taking a quick glance around, he pulled the door closed, the audible click assuring him the door locked.

Initiating a call on his cell phone as he walked, he calmly anticipated the voice at the other end to answer as he waited for the elevator to arrive. He didn't wait long.

Speaking low he began, "Our New York contact called with his concern about the Russians going to Montana. I assured him I would take care of the situation. One more thing… two men from Miami-Dade PD are now also out there. Make sure they don't interfere. The target must be eliminated permanently this time."

He pocketed the phone and smiled as he walked on the elevator.

TBC…