Horatio exited the elevator, and made his way to the question/documents lab. He could see the nightshift CSIs hard at work all around him. As he turned the corner, Horatio spotted Cynthia Wells hunched over the desk reading a book. He assumed it was he diary.

"Miss Wells, what do we have here?" Horatio asked entering the lab.

Cynthia looked up from the diary. "It's a diary from the late 1700's. The diary belonged to, Patrick Malone."

"Okay. How does that help us?" Horatio asked confused.

"Well, I overheard Ryan talking about some fog thing earlier and some guy named, Blake. This Patrick Malone guy mentions a man named Blake in his diary entries. Malone and his friends stole gold from this Blake person," Cynthia explained.

Still confused as to how this related to his case, Horatio asked, "But Miss Wells, how does this relate to my case? Ryan was just telling an urban legend about how South Beach was founded."

Cynthia shook her head. "With all due respect, Lt. Caine, I think Ryan's story, for the most part, is true. I know it sounds crazy, but read Malone's diary. You can't make this stuff up.

Horatio carefully picked up Patrick Malone's diary and began to read.

1796 August 9

Met with Blake this evening for the first time. He stood in the shadows to prevent me from seeing him. He has such a wretched disease. Blake is a rich man with Leprosy, but this does not stop him from trying to better his situation and his comrades.

1796 August 11

Blake made a proposition today. It is a simple one. He wants to relocate his colony just a mile north of here. He has purchased a clipper ship called the Elizabeth Dane with part of his fortune. Blake asks only to settle here. I must balance my feelings of empathy for this poor man, with my revulsion at the thought of a leper colony settling just a mile north.

Horatio paused and turned the page. There were more diary entries. Intrigued he began to read again.

1796 October 16

The six of us met tonight. From midnight until one o'clock, we planned the death of Blake and his comrades. I tell myself that Blake's gold will allow the church to be built, and our small settlement to become a township, but it does not soothe the horror that I feel being an accomplice to murder.

17 October 1796

The deed is done. Blake followed our false fire on shore and the ship broke apart on the rocks near the shore of what I will call South Beach. We were aided by an unearthly fog that rolled in, as if heaven sent, although God had no part in our actions tonight. Blake's gold will be recovered tomorrow. But may the Lord forgive us for what we have done. May Blake and his comrades rest in peace.

Horatio closed the diary and looked up. He didn't know what to think. "Mr. Wolfe's story... This has to be a coincidence. Some sick person pretending…" Horatio didn't know what to say or do. "Did you find anything else?"

Cynthia nodded. "Just the gold cross I told you about over the phone. I'm guessing if this is really true then this gold cross would be Blake's gold."

"Did you get it tested for prints and check if it was authentic?" Horatio asked trying to sort out his thoughts.

"The paper in the diary is consistent with the time period. There's no way someone could replicate this unless they lived during that time or happened to come a crossed some, which would be highly unlikely. As for the cross, no I haven't done anything to it. There was no one in the prints or trace labs when I went," Cynthia explained. "But I figured you wanted to look at it yourself when you came in so I didn't bother trying again."

Horatio grabbed some latex gloves and slipped them on. He grabbed the cross and started to examine it. No inscriptions, no nothing. Horatio gently set the cross back down on the table. He reached for the lab phone and dialed the prints lab. A couple seconds later someone picked up. "Can I get some print lifters down in Q/D please… thank you," he said and hung up.

"The letters we found at both the crime scenes, did they match this?"

"Well, from what I remember there was one fake one so no that one wouldn't match, but I'd have to look at the results again. I don't want to assume the supposed real one matches," Cynthia said.

Horatio again picked up the lab phone. This time he dialed the front desk. A couple seconds later, Paula, the front desk officer picked up. "Paula, can you go into the evidence room and get the evidence box from today's case and bring it to the Q/D lab?"

"Sure thing Lieutenant. I'll be there shortly," Paula said and hung up.

Cynthia looked at Horatio and asked, "What do you think?"

"I don't know. Where are the broken tiles you found this under?"

Cynthia pointed to the back of the lab. "Are you thinking someone might've planted the diary and cross?"

Horatio knelt down and started examining the hole in the floor. "I don't know, Miss Wells. That's what I'm trying to figure out. There has to be an explanation for all of this." Horatio pulled out his cell phone this time and hit speed dial number five.

A sleepy voice picked up, "Hello."

"Mr. Wolfe, how soon can you get down here?"