Chapter 3

"Yelina's Birthday… Alexx and Jamie, Mother's Day 2000… Calleigh's Promotion 1999… Adell's Farewell Reception…"

Ryan listed off title after title as he sifted through the countless discs that filled the first file box. Eric had moved on to the second one, and he felt like he was getting closer. These videos included some of Tim's more artistic work, from mock-horror shorts to digitally animated comedies.

"Sara's Revenge… Gilgamesh Rising… A Day with Elliot and Alice… Letters from Dixieland… Calico Calleigh…" Eric read, laughing heartily at the last title. He remembered how Speedle had projected Calleigh's future if she never found a man ('Which is highly unlikely…'). In his five-minute flick, Cal turned into an obsessive cat lady who took over Horatio's job only to be fired after she contaminated evidence with stray hair from her tabby.

Wolfe interrupted his reverie. "Look at the next one in your hand!"

Eric peered down and smiled in triumph. "Horatio Caine and the Sunglass Serenade," he said chuckling.

Ryan scrunched his nose. "Sounds like a twisted Sherlock Holmes story."

"That's what I said!" Eric laughed.

"Well, pop it in," the younger CSI urged.

Delko hesitated. If Horatio walked in on them watching this video… "Here's the deal, we have to do this carefully. H really busted Speed's balls for this last time."

Ryan smirked. "Well I really want to see it. H is in the Gables, and no one else is within fifty feet of us. We can turn the computer away from the door."

"Fine," Eric stated with a grin. He got up from the table and went over to 'Tim's desk,' slipping the disc into the computer's drive and twisting the screen away from the door. Both men took an eager seat and settled in to watch the show.

Five minutes later, Ryan was literally crying on the floor. Well, almost. He was in grave danger of falling out of his chair, at least, and Delko wasn't in much better shape. That was so much better the second time, he thought to himself.

"Oh my God," Ryan panted, wiping tears from his eyes, "I can't believe someone actually captured the greatness of Horatio Caine on film."

Eric chuckled, trying to catch his breath. "Well, like I said—Speed had a gift."

"I can't imagine what's on the rest of those DVDs," Ryan said thoughtfully, and a little in awe. "Have you seen them?"

"No," Eric shook his head. "I've seen maybe half of them. There are a bunch I don't recognize." He coasted his chair back to the lab table and picked up a stack of discs with which he wasn't familiar, lifting them up to show Ryan as an example.

"Like these. Some of these go back years—even before I came to the lab. Others are more recent, like this one," he held up a single jewel case. "It's marked Christmas 2003."

Ryan was paying attention to Eric as he explained the various videos in the boxes. Apparently Tim experimented with various genres: he went through a period of producing silent films, animated shorts, documentaries, video collages. Not to mention that he was the official videographer for practically every remarkable occasion for the CSI family. Thus, his library of works was prolific.

As his friend spoke, however, Ryan migrated back to the table and opened the third box. More discs met his gaze, as well as an envelope he hadn't noticed the first time he glanced in the box.

Wedged in between a gray hoodie, a pair of sneakers, and an old camera, Ryan spotted a manila envelope. It was thick-ish, so he guessed that it contained more than just a letter or documents. He also noticed some writing on the front of the package, and he moved the sweatshirt aside to get a better look. Ryan froze.

"Delko."

Something in Ryan's voice stopped Eric mid-sentence, and his eyes-snapped to his fellow CSI. Ryan's gaze was fixed on something in the box in front of him, and his hand was slowly pulling an object from its depths. The Cuban man watched as his friend pulled a slim manila folder from the box. He held it in both his hands and simply stared at it.

"Eric, when did you say Speedle died?" Ryan asked quietly. That was a painful question, he knew, but given what he'd just found, it was extremely relevant.

Eric clenched his teeth. "Why?" he asked in response, his voice a little strangled.

"When, Eric? The exact day." Ryan finally glanced up and met Delko's eyes, and the earnestness in his gaze told Eric that something had seriously shaken the man across from him.

"September 20, 2004." He looked away, trying to reel in the depression that was quickly overwhelming him. He had never spoken that date out loud. Not once. Somehow he realized that Wolfe had stopped breathing, and his head jerked back up in concern.

Ryan couldn't meet Eric's eyes this time. His voice was a little shaky as he explained, "This envelope… Eric it has your name on it, and it's dated… it's dated the day Speedle died."

It's dated the day Speedle died. The day Speedle died. The day Speedle died. Wolfe's words were on torturous repeat in Eric's mind. He stared at the man in shocked disbelief. Numbly, he took the inconspicuous parcel from his friend.

He recognized Tim's lazy scrawl on the front. 'Delko, The Idiot's Guide, 9/20/2004,' it read. Eric ran his fingers over the words, almost like he could bring Tim back if he could just feel the place the man had touched so soon before he died. The connection was there—Eric could picture Speed writing the words, could hear his laugh as he planned how to give it to his best friend—but it wouldn't bring him back. Nothing could.

The gaping hole in his chest ached with a vengeance. Eric felt like he was dreaming as he turned the envelope over in his hands and silently slipped his fingers under the flap, gently emptying the contents into his hand. A white gold chain, a DVD, and no note.

Eric's brows furrowed as he peered inside the envelope, looking for something else. But there was nothing, just the chain and the single disc. Eric looked closer at the objects in his hands. The disc was encased in a plain black jewel case with a clear front. The label bore no markings.

The chain held much more significance to Eric than the DVD. A barrage of memories inundated him as he surveyed the necklace. It wasn't just a necklace: at the end of the chain dangled a size-four, white-gold, oval-cut diamond ring. Tiny diamonds lined the band of the ring, which split into a 'V' on either side of the main setting.

He couldn't tear his eyes away. For weeks after Tim's death, Eric had searched for this necklace. It should have been in his best friend's personal effects at the hospital, but when he couldn't find it there, the young CSI frantically started looking for it everywhere. Finally, he lodged a complaint with the hospital, because the necklace—and the ring—were gone, and he could only assume they were stolen. The thought haunted him.

Right after college Tim met a woman named Charlotte on a weekend trip with his buddies. Charlie was vivacious and caring and witty, and she perfectly complemented Speedle's more reserved personality. They kept in touch, even though they lived fifteen-hundred miles apart. A year later, Tim moved from New York, Charlie left her job in Arizona, and they both ended up in Northern Florida. Not long after they moved in together, Speedle caught his girlfriend spying a diamond ring at an antique shop. She kept walking past the case, kept staring at that ring. The next day, Tim went back and bought the ring, even though it killed his next several paychecks.

Two weeks later, a drunk driver plowed into a café where Charlotte was meeting an old friend. She was killed instantly, along with three others. Tim Speedle was never the same. He wore her ring around his neck every day, without fail.

Eric asked him about it on a particularly hot day out in the Glades, and he spilled the entire story. Calleigh already knew, but no one else, and it remained that way until the day Speedle died. Until the day that Eric couldn't find the ring.

Three years later, Eric understood. Speedle had taken it off himself, and left it hidden, here, in this envelope. Why? He had no clue. Eric could only hope the answer was on the DVD in his other hand. His fingers clenched around the delicate necklace and its diamond ornament.

Ryan watched the scene unfold before him with trepidation. Delko was obviously confused by the cryptic package, and extremely edgy about something else.

"Eric?" he probed.

The man's eyes darted to Ryan's momentarily before they returned to survey the boxes on the table. "Help me get this stuff back where it belongs," he said urgently.

When Ryan failed to move, Eric became almost frantic, quickly shoveling discs and pictures and camera equipment back into the white file boxes. "Help me!"

Ryan watched his friend with alarm. He put a hand out to still Delko's arm firmly, and the man simply collapsed into the swivel chair by the lab table. The manila envelope remained in his hand the entire time, chain and compact disc dangling from his fingers.

"I've got it, alright?" Ryan said cautiously. He swiftly squared away the rest of the loose items. Meanwhile, Eric had glided back to the desk in the corner and was currently kicking the old computer's tower. He was furious.

"This damn thing's frozen!" he growled.

"What are you trying to do?"

"I want to watch this movie," Eric explained roughly.

"Why don't you go watch it in the A/V lab?" his friend suggested softly. Since Cooper's departure, the lab had remained empty. Horatio had yet to hire a new technician, so the CSIs were currently handling their own A/V work.

Eric looked up at him, debating the idea. On the one hand, that really was the best place for him to view the contents of the disc. On the other, the lab was far from private.

"What the hell," he sighed to himself as he stood from the chair. "Let's go."

Ryan was surprised at the invitation. "Are you sure you want me in there?" he queried.

Delko didn't bat an eye but just shrugged. "Yes. Calleigh's not here, so…"

He didn't finish his statement, but Ryan understood. Eric didn't want to watch it alone, even if that meant that he, Ryan, would be the one standing at the man's side. He nodded, and the pair made their way out of the storage room and down the hall toward the A/V lab.

"Eric, Ryan!" a sweet Southern voice called to the CSIs as they passed an adjoining corridor. "Hold on!"

Calleigh quickly and gracefully made her way to her co-workers and greeted them with a brilliant smile. Ryan noticed that it wasn't quite as bright as the smiles he'd seen in photographs only half-an-hour before. The thought dampened his spirit, and he had a hard time returning Calleigh's grin.

The ballistics maven had wanted to update Delko and Wolfe on the case she and Horatio were working, but she quickly ascertained that something was wrong. Really wrong. Eric's eyes were red-rimmed, although she could tell he'd not been crying. He held some sort of envelope in his hand, and his knuckles were white because he was gripping it so tightly. His whole body was tense.

Beside him, Ryan stood equally tense. He couldn't quite meet Calleigh's inquiring green eyes, and she noticed that he'd crossed his arms over his chest and ducked his head the way he always did when he was trying to hide something.

The woman looked between the two men suspiciously, their anxiety spreading rapidly to her own small frame. "Guys," she said slowly, "what's going on?"

Neither man said a word. They shared a brief glance, and Eric tried to open his mouth to speak, but no words came.

"Eric?"

Her best friend looked at her fully for the first time since she walked up, and the pain in his deep brown eyes nearly knocked Calleigh backward. He took a step forward and placed a gentle hand on her elbow.

"Cal, um—" Eric stopped and sent a tiny look in Wolfe's direction. The man got the hint.

"I'll meet you there," Ryan said quickly and turned away from Eric and Calleigh.

"Eric?" She was actually fearful now, and she raised her hand to rest on the arm Eric had extended to her.

Another silent beat, then Eric spoke. "Cal, Ryan found some things while he was cleaning out the storage room for Natalia." He took a deep breath and met Calleigh's penetrating gaze. "Some things that belonged to Speed."

The blonde CSI's eyes grew wide and her lips parted slightly in surprise. "What?"

"Yeah, um… yeah." Eric dropped his hand from Calleigh's arm and ran it harshly over his shaven head. "That's not all…there was an envelope in one of the boxes with my—with my name on it." He held out the manila envelope for her to see, along with the jewel case and the necklace.

Calleigh gasped. "Oh my God," she whispered, taking the chain in her hand and letting it fall through her fingers. Her eyes traveled to the envelope, and she gasped again, more sharply this time. "Oh my God."

Like Eric had done before, she lightly traced the letters on the front of the envelope. "Eric," she said softly, closing her eyes against the implications of her next words, "this is dated the morning Tim died."

"I know, Cal," he replied, barely above a whisper.

Her teary emerald orbs threatened to tear him apart. "Eric, this—this could be the very last thing Tim did before he died," she said, gently shaking the items in her hands.

Eric wrapped his strong fingers around his best friend's trembling hand, willing her to stay calm. "I know that, Cal…I can't figure it out," he said, brow crinkled. "We were—we were just on our way to watch the video in the A/V lab."

The look in Eric's eye told Calleigh that he needed her there. Cal twisted her hand and squeezed Eric's tightly before she passed him the envelope and its contents.

"Let's go," she said with a subdued smile, turning on her heel to walk down the hall at her partner's side. The walk was silent, save for the blaring sound of the wheels turning in both Eric and Calleigh's minds. What would Tim Speedle have to say, three years after he left them forever?