The Return

Chapter 20

"Where're you?" Frank asked somewhat curtly.

Horatio moved the phone away from his ear and looked at the device, puzzled not only by his friend's question, but his tone of voice as well. Calleigh watched Horatio's reaction to the call and wondered what was wrong.

"We're about to leave Miami - why? What's going on?"

Frank breathed a little slower, his initial anxiousness diminished slightly, instantly replaced with dread.

"Um… I hate to be the one to tell you this…" the detective wondered what his friend's reaction would be, fully aware the father and son were not close. "At the moment, it appears that your father was just killed when his car exploded."

Horatio closed his eyes as his fingertips wearily began rubbing his forehead while his arm rested on the door of the car. He didn't verbally respond.

Calleigh couldn't stand not knowing what was going on any longer, weakly asking while leaning closer, "What's wrong?"

Frank heard Calleigh and remained silent, allowing them a moment.

Horatio dropped his hand and only opened his eyes when he turned and looked at Calleigh to answer her question.

"My father…" Horatio sighed deeply before continuing, "My father may have just been killed."

Calleigh's questioning expression immediately turned to shock.

"Does Frank have an idea who did it?" Her voice notably reflecting the shock she felt.

She and Daniel had gotten off to a rocky start, but before they'd left, she believed the man was genuinely attempting to correct his past sins toward his son.

Horatio silently shook his head and returned the phone to his ear.

"Any early suspicions concerning whose work this could be?"

"If I had to bet now, I'd say the Russians, but another scenario would be his associates. Sorry my friend – you've had enough death for one day without adding this. Just be careful. If it is the Russians, this and Mack's murder could be an indication that they've begun retaliating."

"Get me that information as soon as you can. I'll be in touch."

"Will do; take care."

Horatio noticed the pilot had descended the stairs of the jet, giving them a nod indicating he and the co-pilot were ready for take-off. They had just stopped the car on the tarmac when Frank called with his news.

Turning to Calleigh he said, "Sweetheart, our chariot waits."

They had been airborne about thirty minutes when the co-pilot joined them in the cabin.

Introducing himself and informing them he was also a FBI agent, he began giving them the information he knew on the car bombing.

"Just before you arrived, I was alerted to the explosion. The agency wanted you out of Miami immediately for your safety. We are reasonably sure it was the work of the Russian Mob, instead of your father's own associates."

"How can you be sure of that? What evidence do you have that proves it was the Russians?" Calleigh asked the agent.

"We've been able to intercept some of their communications recently and there was some reference to a similar incident in their plans. We just didn't know when or where."

Horatio sat uncharacteristically silent; dealing with his emotions about the possible death of his father. There was so much about the man he detested, yet, he was his father. There was a familial connection, good or bad, between them. He wrestled with the fact that he felt a more profound loss from Miriam's death than his own father's.

At the lab, Eric knew they needed confirmation of exactly who was in the car at the time of the explosion and he knew what he had to do to get that confirmation on Daniel Caine – he had to retrieve Horatio's DNA for comparison with the bit of remains they'd managed to salvage from the scene. The others on the team also knew what had to be done.

Natalia approached Eric, as he sat silently at the counter in the trace lab, ready to offer her help.

"Hey," her soft voice shaking the Cuban from his thoughts, "would you like for me to go pull Horatio's information for you?"

Giving her a half-way smile as he looked up into her warm brown eyes he answered sadly,

"Thanks, but I'll get it."

He stood and shrugged out of his lab coat and walked out headed to records. When Horatio died, all of his information was sealed because of it being part of a murder investigation.

Eric walked off the elevator at basement level and with each step he took he could feel the sense of dread becoming stronger. Reaching the counter and coming face-to-face with a young officer who looked like it was his first week out of the academy, Eric made his request.

In a muted voice, he said, "I need to examine records on the Lieutenant Horatio Caine case."

The young man's face brightened as he replied, "Yes sir. I'll get the log for you to sign."

Eric nodded his head at the young man as he started to the desk behind him to gather the book. When the young man returned to the counter he commented while Eric signed off,

"I was real surprised when someone finally took the Lieutenant out. He was a real legend. He'd been in so many close calls, yet no one could do him in, ya know, until that day."

Eric angrily shoved the book back at the young man and snapped, "I don't need your opinion on Horatio Caine – alright?"

The young man took a step back, holding the book against his chest as if it were a shield between him and the angry CSI.

"I'm… I'm sorry sir. I didn't mean…" the young man stammered.

But Eric had already walked away toward the door of the record room not wishing to talk anymore. The young man was still standing in shock when his Sargent walked up beside him after hearing the exchange.

"Hey kid, you're new here so you couldn't have known, but that's Caine's brother-in-law. They were close. He and Caine's whole team took his death kinda hard you know, so from now on, I wouldn't talk about what happened to any of them just yet."

The young officer swallowed his shock and just nodded his head, thinking he would follow his Sargent's suggestion.

Eric scanned the row of boxes and finally saw Horatio's name. He stared at it for a moment before reaching to retrieve the box. He hung his head and took a deep breath before refocusing on the label. Reaching up, he lifted the box off the shelf and turned around placing it on a large table.

Taking the lid off, the first thing his eyes fell on was the shiny, gold lieutenant's badge. He reached in and gingerly picked the hard metal object up and lifted it out. He noticed the worn place at the top of the badge where Horatio had repeatedly tapped his fingers when deep in thought over a case. Eric felt tears well in his eyes as he mentally pictured his redheaded brother-in-law at a crime scene, standing with hands on hips, lips tight, sunglasses on, nervously drumming his fingers on this badge. Why did you have to die H? Why did you stay behind and cover for us? Laying the badge down, Eric braced himself with both hands flat on the tabletop as he hung his head.

After a few moments, he gathered himself and straightened his stance as continued on with the task he knew he had to complete. Eric next held up the clear bag containing the bullet that killed Horatio. Quickly setting it aside, he began thumbing through a stack of folders under the evidence until he found the one he was looking for marked DNA evidence. Opening the folder, he glanced at its' contents, satisfied what they needed was there before laying it aside. He put everything else back in the evidence box and replaced it on the shelf. Taking a deep breath he picked up the folder and walked back toward the counter to sign out. The same young man stood at the counter, more wary of the CSI now, he didn't say a word.

Eric knew he needed to apologize to the young man. He realized so many young officers saw Horatio as a legendary figure and not the man he and the team knew him as.

"Hey man… about before – I didn't mean to bite your head off. It's just still a hard time for us in the CSI lab."

The young officer nodded his head as he accepted the apology and added, "I thought Lieutenant Caine was the best, I didn't mean anything about…"

"He was," Eric interjected with a slight smile. "No hard feelings. Thanks," Eric added, holding the file up before he turned and walked toward the elevator.

Natalia ran the DNA comparisons and they all sat around waiting for the results. In a few minutes, the printer turned on and she walked over and pulled out the sheet of paper. As she scanned the information her eyes grew large.

Natalia looked around the room at Eric, Walter and Ryan as she announced, "It wasn't Daniel Caine in that car!"

Ryan asked questioningly, "Who was it then?"

"I don't know who until I run the results through the national database; it'll take a little while."

The team dispersed to return to other cases they were working on, including Eric who was still unsettled thinking about Horatio.

An hour later, Natalia located Eric in the detective division talking to Frank.

"I found out who was in that car," she announced as she held up a sheet of paper.

"Who…" Frank asked.

"Harold Bremmerman… a known Calabria associate – high up too. In fact, isn't that the same branch of the family that Daniel Caine is part of?"

Daniel sat in the living room of a condo the Calabria Family kept for times such as this. Turf wars had a history of getting ugly, but this was more than an ordinary turf war, the future of both the Calabria's and Russians hinged on who controlled Miami.

He felt relatively safe. The condo would be difficult to find registered under one of their lesser known legitimate companies in the family's holdings. He'd been rushed there after word of the explosion by friends. Now, for the first time, the devastating heartache of losing an old friend hit him hard. Harold had come up through the ranks with him. They had both started as two-bit thugs for the family years ago and Harold, Daniel knew, could always be trusted. There were not too many that held that distinction in their profession. Now he was dead.

Daniel began blaming himself for Harold's death. The doctors initially told me I only had six months to live; now it's been over a year. They don't really know how long I have…why couldn't it have been me in that car today? I surely I can't live much longer, but Harold… he was in excellent health. He took my car only at my insistence. He went to that meeting in my place… said it made more sense for him to go anyway.

The day after returning to Maine, Horatio was out on a fishing run when his cell phone chimed that he'd received an email. Reaching for his phone, laying on the console in the boat's cockpit, he engaged the auto-pilot controls. They were pretty much on top of the fishing coordinates for the time being and his crew was busy putting out the nets.

Frank had sent a short message with a large file stating that Daniel evidently had not been in the car at the time it exploded. Horatio, surprised by the feeling of relief that suddenly washed over him smiled. The old man must have nine lives, like a cat. Opening the message's attachment, he began perusing the photos until the radio crackled.

"Captain… we need you on deck pronto," one of his crew members excitedly called.

Reaching for the mike, Horatio answered, "On my way."

Horatio made his way to the lower deck, still searching the photos on his phone when he heard a shout,

"CAP'N… HEADS UP!"

Acting instinctively, Horatio hit the deck - a move that caused his hand to release the phone which then slid across the deck and slammed into the bulkhead. The impact knocked the wind out of him for a few moments, but as he began pushing up off the deck, he felt a pair of strong hands pull him to his feet.

"Cap'n you ok? That riggin' just broke loose."

Taking a minute to get his bearings on the rolling deck, Horatio rubbed the back of his neck and answered,

"I think I am. What happened?" He asked the large, burly crew member named Jack as he looked over at the swaying steel beam still bouncing against the crane that held the nets below.

"Damn if I know, Cap'n. One minute everything's ok… then I saw you coming down the stairs and the thing just broke loose."

They saw an assistant deck hand securing the dangerous beam that swung off the cockpit. Once he had it tied off, Horatio walked over to the young man who was a new member of the crew they'd taken on to handle the increasing load of work. Horatio noticed him examining a rope attached to the beam.

The man held the end up showing Horatio, "Sir, this was cut by a knife. The end is too smooth, not unraveled like it would be if it broke."

Suddenly an uneasy feeling crept over Horatio, not for his safety, but for Calleigh's. He'd felt unsettled since running into that stranger at the bar that night. He looked up into the young man's eyes and could have sworn he saw a twinge of disappointment. If this man is involved, why would he point out the clear sabotage? Perhaps if he's involved... it's a way to let me know they're on to me. I'll need to keep my eye on this kid.

Jack already retrieved Horatio's cell phone that now had a broken screen and handed it to his boss.

He then bellowed disbelieving, "Who'd do a fool thing like that?"

Horatio answered, never breaking contact with the younger man, "Someone who might have a grudge, Jack."

Putting the cell phone in his coat pocket, Horatio joined the rest of the crew on the lower deck where they had gathered around the nets.

He called out as he walked up to them, "Gentlemen, what's the problem?"

The men parted giving Horatio a view of the net. Tangled up inside was a human body. Horatio eased forward and when he looked down into the person's face, he couldn't believe it. It was the man from the bar.

TBC…