And the conclusion. See part 1 for disclaimers, etc. I'm sure you've all
guessed the particular happy ending that this story has, but I hope you've
enjoyed the ride anyway. And I have put in a plot twist before we get
there that I think might surprise you, even though I played fair and
already set it up in previous chapters. For a look at the next FS story,
see the preview at the end.
Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to the person who read the entire series at one gulp on Wednesday night, all the way from Fearful Symmetry through Sight, and sent me one mass review of it. She prefers to keep a low profile, but she knows who she is. Thanks for a tremendous lift this week at a point where I really needed one. I'll imagine you lurking in enjoyment reading this and future fics.
***
"I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened."
The Bible, Ephesians 1:18
***
Calleigh woke up suddenly from another dream of sight, descending reluctantly into the world she was now forced to inhabit. She had dreamed that she and Horatio were playing chase among the stars, hiding in the darkness momentarily but popping out behind stars as they unerringly found each other. The entire sky was their playground. Finally, their eyes brighter than any of the stars, they had settled contentedly in each other's arms on the moon and proceeded to eliminate anything at all that might still hide them from each other. She woke with her dream smile on her face, but even in the dream, it had been a wistful smile. She wished now that she had spent more time simply looking at him. Moonlight, starlight, soul light. He was beautiful in any setting.
She reached out to her clock on the nightstand beside the bed and traced the hands with clumsy, inexperienced fingers. It was 4:00 AM. Horatio had already told her that he wouldn't go to work again today, and while she knew it couldn't last, she was glad. Yesterday had been a laboriously fulfilling accomplishment, but she still couldn't imagine doing it by herself.
She slipped out from under the covers and turned to align herself precisely with the mattress. Three steps to the end of the bed, four beyond that to the dresser, and she managed to stop before she ran into it. She turned right as conscientiously as a soldier on parade drill and took four more steps, forcing herself to make them full-length. Left and two steps out the door, brushing the frame lightly with her fingers. Right again, six steps, and she was at the bathroom. The return journey simply reversed it all, and she was back at the bed. She climbed under the sheet and just lay there awake, enjoying the progress, still shrinking from the necessity. A warm hand suddenly enveloped her own under the sheet. Horatio squeezed her fingers in gentle support. She squeezed his back in grateful desperation, loving the feel of his hand, the strong but sensitive fingers, the delicacy of touch, most of all the connection that penetrated the blackness, just like the stars that punched through the darkness and shone anyway. Eventually, they fell asleep again, hand in hand.
***
Speed ambled into the sound lab where Eric was analyzing the microcassette. "Look at this," Speed said, tossing the notebook he had been studying onto the table, directly on top of the notes Eric was making.
"What is it?"
"Employee safety manual from the cosmetics company, but they could just title it How to Kill Enemies and Influence People."
Delko read the indicated paragraph. "Potassium bromide is extremely poisonous if taken internally. Never touch your mouth while working around this chemical. Never put any item into your mouth that has been near this chemical. Items can be dipped into a solution of potassium bromide, which will then dry, and such items can appear dry and harmless but be fatal if inserted into the mouth. With proper precautions, however, there is no danger in simply handling this chemical." He looked up at Speed. "Every employee got this? Including the secretaries?"
"Yeah. I mean, it's practically a step-by-step guide."
"CYA," said Eric. "The cover-your-ass principle. The company goes into so much detail so they can avoid liability if someone does die."
Speed shrugged, reverting to his usual nonchalance. "I guess it doesn't matter. If you want to kill someone, you'll find a way. There are whole books about it. And Internet sites."
"Yeah," Eric agreed. "I'll never look at cosmetics the same way again, though. You're lucky, man."
"Why?" When he thought about it, which wasn't often, Speed didn't think of himself as lucky.
"Breeze doesn't wear 18 layers of this junk. Low maintenance. You need somebody low maintenance."
"Would everybody just leave me and Breeze alone?"
"Gladly. Tell me your next date, so I'll know when not to bother you." He ducked as Speed grabbed the company employee manual and tried to hit him lightly upside the head with it.
"What are you two doing?" Adele's voice interrupted them from the doorway. They broke apart as guiltily as two misbehaving schoolboys caught by the principal.
"Um, processing evidence," said Speed.
"Right. I take it Horatio isn't coming in today again."
"Don't know what gave you that idea, but you're right," said Eric. Joking aside, he instantly became a conscientious CSI. "I've got something really interesting for you. This is from that tape in Claridge's desk. The one he was dictating on Friday." He hit play, and they all listened with growing interest.
"As you mentioned in your letter of . . . oh, hell . . . nope, that's not it . . . maybe in this one . . . Did you want something, Linda?"
"You already know what I want."
"And you already know you won't get it. We had a great thing going for years, Linda. Still can, if you'd just listen to reason. Don't rock the boat. And I'm still your supervisor. Your review is coming up soon, you know. I'd hate to have any minor misunderstandings affect your continued employment. Now, as my secretary, which you still are at this point, did you want something?"
"Just to let you know, I'm heading out for lunch, and I'll pick up those supplies we need after."
"Fine. Oh, wait a minute. As long as you're going, swing by the hardware store and get me a box of 1 ½ inch nails. I ran out last night, and I need some more to finish up in the shop tonight."
"So you're working in the shop tonight?"
"Your choice, Linda. I'll leave you alone to make it."
"Fine. I get your nails, and I hope you choke on them." The slam of the office door echoed dully on the tape.
"Now, then, where was I? Oh, yeah . . . Hell, I can't find it. Linda? Linda! Damn, must have already left." The tape clicked off.
"He must have had the recorder on his desk, and she didn't notice it was running," said Adele.
"Sounds like enough for a warrant to me," Speed commented.
"Me, too," Adele agreed. "Okay, I'll pull in Linda the secretary, and we'll get warrants for her place and her car, too. If we can match the car, or find the rest of that box of poisoned nails, we've got her cold."
"You think she just threw away the poisoned nails? In her own trash can at her house?" Eric was dubious.
"Eric," Adele reminded him, "how many times have we seen criminals throw away vital evidence in their own trash cans in their houses?"
"All the time," he admitted. "I just keep expecting them to get smarter, sometimes."
"They won't," said Speed. "Stupidity is the fixed constant of the universe."
"And like Horatio says, murder is their first mistake," said Adele. "All the others come after." They all paused for a second, thinking of Horatio.
"I wish they were here," said Eric. Adele and Speed nodded. It was a subdued group who left to get warrants.
***
Five steps, striding with uncertain, forced confidence into the blackness. Calleigh stopped and put out her hand, brushing the refrigerator door.
"Perfect," said Horatio, behind her. "That's 100 steps. We've got every room in this house memorized now."
"Just hope I don't tangle the numbers up," said Calleigh.
"You won't. You're the one who can track 47 separate bullet trajectories at a shoot out. You're good with numbers."
"You mean I could track them." Calleigh took four steps to him, hugging him to reassure herself.
"You still can," said Horatio. "The ability is still there, even if you have to apply it to something else. You haven't changed, Calleigh. You may have to learn some things differently, but nothing about who you are has changed. The job didn't define you. You defined it." He held her securely, letting her feel sheltered for as long as she would accept it. When he felt her start to pull away after a few minutes, he loosened his grip.
"I think I'd like to do this on my own. Just go around the house. Don't go anywhere, Horatio, but could you do something else for a bit? Something besides standing there watching me?"
"You're asking a lot, but I'll try," he replied smoothly. "You're denying me my favorite pastime, though."
She smiled at him. "Sorry. I'll make it up to you." He gave her arms a final supportive squeeze, then backed away, going back into the living room. Calleigh toured the kitchen again, reassuring herself that the counts were right, then headed down the hall. She turned right at the end, into the bedroom that would become the nursery. Lost in the thought, she started mentally replacing the furniture that was there. They would need a crib and baby furniture. And a rocking chair, of course. She remembered her mother rocking the children in her rocking chair. It was one of the few happy memories of Calleigh's childhood. Colors, she thought. We'll decorate it in something bright. Rosalind will have a happy childhood. Even her room won't be dark. Yellow, maybe. She was walking around with her hand on the wall, mentally placing butterfly decals, when she heard Horatio start playing the piano. She imagined rocking her child here, while Horatio played soft music from the other room, lulling the baby to sleep. Lost in happy contemplation, she forgot the furniture that actually was here now and banged her leg sharply on a nightstand as she turned the corner. A minor fault line rippled through the music, but it never broke it apart into silence. Horatio just kept playing, and she smiled again. A man who would hold her when she needed to be held and who would let her run into the furniture on her own in the dark when she needed to do that. Horatio, she thought for the hundredth time, I think you're perfect.
He switched songs, and she froze suddenly in the middle of the nursery-to- be. It was the theme from Ice Castles, "Looking through the Eyes of Love." She remembered what he had told her in the hospital, that she would see her daughter with a mother's eyes, even if not physically. For the first time, she truly believed it. She could still see Rosalind and Horatio with the eyes of her heart, even if this blackness was permanent. And she could adapt to life like this, if she had to. But every inch of her slight frame prayed that it wouldn't be necessary. I don't want to, she thought. I think I could do it, but please, God, I don't want to. Give me another chance, and I will never take it for granted again.
She suddenly wanted to be close to Horatio again. She exited the room and took the eleven steps down the hall, then angled slightly right and took eight more to the piano. The music stopped as she approached, although she did notice, with an inward smile, that he resolved the chord. He couldn't stand to leave music simply hanging, uncompleted. "Don't stop," she urged. "Play it again for me, Horatio."
He started playing the song again, and she stood there with one hand on his shoulder, listening. She abruptly slipped onto the piano bench alongside him, and he slid over a fraction without breaking the music, giving her room. He did hesitate slightly when she reached out and put her hands lightly on top of his. "Go ahead," she said. "I want to feel it." He started playing again, and she left her hands on his, not interfering with his fingers but feeling the interplay of muscles and tendons beneath her hands. So much going on beneath the surface, so much effort and practice to produce the smooth, completed melody. Love was like this. And like this, love was beautiful. She stayed there for a long time just sitting beside him, feeling the music through his hands as well as hearing it, enjoying the process as well as the result. Horatio finally stopped playing, moving his arm away from the keyboard to put it around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. They sat there together on the bench in the darkness and the silence, and the music went on.
***
Adele wished for Horatio. Calleigh too, of course, but she especially wished for Horatio now. She was questioning Linda, breaking her slowly by confronting her with the evidence. Speed and Eric were interested watchers, but nobody topped Horatio at manipulating a witness with courteous, deadly accuracy into sudden awareness of the solidity of the trap. He could break down witnesses no one else could make progress with. Adele was making progress with Linda, but Horatio would have had the confession already. She didn't realize it, but Speed and Eric were both thinking the same thing.
"So we can prove that your car was at the workshop and at the ditch where the body was dumped. We can prove that the killer had your brand of fingernail polish on. And we can prove that the nails were thrown away at your house. There's enough here for an arrest, even if you aren't talking."
"Arrest me then," Linda said.
"We can also prove that you had an affair with him for years." Adele leaned forward slightly, facing the other woman. "What I can't understand is why. What changed, Linda?"
Linda's expression shifted there slightly, briefly. Something had changed. Adele took a stab in the dark. "Linda, are you pregnant?" Linda studied her hands, not looking up. "It's easy enough to confirm. We can get a medical exam."
"Okay, then, I'm pregnant." It would be hard to hide the fact.
"Do you want the baby?" Linda's eyes lit up briefly before the shutters slammed across them again. Yes, she wanted the baby. "Did he want the baby?"
"He didn't care." Linda almost spit out the words, the sudden venom in her voice startling Speed and Eric. "He said I could get an abortion if I liked, and he would pay. Or go ahead and have it, but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. He said he would get me fired."
"You can prove paternity, Linda. There are absolute tests nowadays. He would have had to support the child if you pushed it."
Linda continued, the tirade coming out like a flood bursting through a dam. "He was too comfortable, he said. He didn't want anything in his life to change. Nice, undemanding wife. Nice fulfilling job. Nice secretary for an affair on the side. I asked him to marry me. He had always said he would some day."
Adele suddenly realized the motive. Not the child, but the scornful dismissal. "He laughed at you."
Linda looked up, startled, her eyes meeting the detective's. "Yes. He laughed at me. And that day, I'd been making copies of the employee manual for a new group of hires. When he asked me to get him the nails, it just jumped out at me. I watched," she added. "I parked down the street, and I was at the window of that shop in the dark, watching. When he fell, I went in the door and stood there, and I laughed at him. He died watching me laughing at him." Her shoulders slumped slightly as her energy ran out with the last of her words.
Adele stood up. Thinking of Horatio again, she used one of his favorite lines to a criminal, although she could never reproduce his delivery. "I hope it was worth it."
Linda stared at her hands, looking at the end futility of her actions. "No," she said softly. "I thought it would be. I took a calculated risk. But it wasn't." She didn't say anything else as the guard stepped forward and the handcuffs snapped into place.
Speed and Eric stayed in the interrogation room for a minute after Adele and the guard escorted Linda out. "Remind me never to laugh at a woman again," said Eric.
"Hell hath no fury," Speed quipped, but it wasn't a joke, and his tone acknowledged that. They were both more subdued than usual as they returned to the lab.
***
Calleigh and Horatio were doing the dishes after supper, Calleigh in front, Horatio behind her, his hands over hers now in the dishwater, guiding her fingers. They finished the last plate, rinsed it, and added it to the drainer. Calleigh turned around, her back against the sink, and buried herself in him. He held her tightly. "We'll get there, Cal."
"I know," she said. "I think I can now. But I don't want to."
"I'd take it for you if I could," he said.
She thought of his beautiful eyes darkened forever. "No. I'd rather have it be me."
"Hopefully, it won't have to be either of us."
She pulled away from him and carefully walked into the living room, finding the couch. "What do we do tomorrow? Where's the next 100 steps?"
He sat down beside her, putting his arm around her. "In the morning, let's go jogging."
She gasped slightly. "You're kidding." No, he wasn't. "No, you're not."
"I'll bet that blackness gives way even faster when you run into it. Maybe we can scare it off totally." He squeezed her shoulders. "I'll be with you."
"I know." They sat there in silence for a few minutes. "Horatio, will you leave me alone?"
"Never," he said instantly.
"What I meant . . ."
"I know what you meant," he replied. "I'll go somewhere else for a while, if you think you're ready. But I'll never leave you alone."
Her spirit cringed at the prospect. Perversely, that convinced her even more to try it. "I'd just like to try being here by myself for a little bit. Just a few hours."
"I could go down to CSI. Make sure the lab is still there."
She grinned. "If you go to CSI, make sure you remember to come home in a few hours."
"No worries. That lab can't hold a candle to you, Cal." He squeezed her once again, then stood up. "You sure you're ready for this?"
"I'd like to try it before we go jogging. Just for a few hours. And I can call you if I need you."
"Okay." He kissed her thoroughly, then broke away. "That blackness can't hold a candle to you either, Cal. It's already beaten."
"I know," she said, at least a quarter of the way to believing it. She heard him moving around, gathering his keys, and then she heard the door shut behind him as he left, echoing hollowly in her heart. Calleigh stood up and toured the house again. Everything was still there. Deliberately, she turned off all of the lights. Not that it made any difference to her, but she felt like it would keep her from totally facing that blackness. Once the lights were all off, she sat down on the couch again and stared defiantly at the blackness. "I will beat you," she said aloud. "I can do this." But she still didn't want to.
***
Horatio entered CSI, but he felt split, like his heart was really back with Calleigh. He avoided Ballistics and headed through the lab, pausing in Trace. Speed was wrapped up in processing some evidence, his headphones on, totally oblivious. Horatio flowed up silently behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.
As many times as he did it, the effect never grew less. Speed nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around so quickly he jerked the cord of his headphones out of the CD player. "H, one of these days, you're going to get killed sneaking up behind people like that."
"Hasn't happened yet. How are things?"
"Pretty quiet the last few days. Floater yesterday. Two guys had a fight over a woman, and one of them decided to win permanently. And we finished the ditch case today. How's Calleigh?"
"She's doing a little better. She wanted to be alone for a few hours." He looked around the labs. "This place wouldn't be the same without her."
"No," Speed agreed.
"You said you finished the ditch case?"
"Yeah, it was the secretary. Claridge got her pregnant, and when she wanted him to marry her, he laughed at her."
Horatio winced slightly. "That's been the motive for a lot of murders. People can't stand to be discounted."
"She actually called it a calculated risk, when Adele was questioning her. Can you believe that? Deciding to murder your boss, and she called it taking a calculated risk, just because she saw how she could do it."
Horatio shook his head. "If there's one thing I'd like to convince people of, it would be the value of life. Murder isn't taking a calculated risk. It's taking a life."
"Pretty pathetic life. Not that I'm siding with her, but Claridge doesn't seem like he benefited the world much."
"People can change, though. Even if they don't choose to change, they at least deserve the opportunity." He suddenly thought of Calleigh. "And sometimes circumstances change your life for you."
Speed followed his thoughts easily. "Like Calleigh."
"Right. But it's still valuable. Even when it's changed, like Calleigh, or like Phillip, every second of that life is a gift. We have no right to waste it. We certainly have no right to take it." He stood there for a minute in silence, and Speed didn't try to break it. Horatio's thoughts finally returned to his body. "I'll be up in my office. Don't work too late, Speed. I'm sure you have better things to do." He turned away and headed for the stairs.
Speed finished processing his sample, but he didn't put the headphones back on, choosing to listen to his thoughts for once instead. Horatio's words repeated in his mind like an evidence tape for analysis. "Every second of that life is a gift. We have no right to waste it." He thought of Calleigh again, forced into change. It had happened so quickly. It could happen so quickly. His hands on autopilot, he finished filling out the evidence record, then pulled out his cell phone. He hesitated for a second before calling. This isn't about calculated risks, he reminded himself. It's about life. He dialed. "Breeze. I know we're on for Friday, but are you doing anything tonight? Great, neither am I. Just didn't want to waste it."
***
Calleigh woke up abruptly with the cold certainty that something was wrong. She had stared at the blackness until it turned its impassive back toward her, then curled up on the couch and gradually drifted off to sleep. She lay there on the couch completely still, trying to place what had awakened her.
The sound came again. A low scratch from the door, and it slowly, softly opened. She instantly knew it wasn't Horatio. This was a stranger. He paused in the door, and Calleigh shrank back against the couch as she imagined him looking around in the circle of his flashlight. He hadn't turned on the lights; she would have heard the click of the switch. For once, the blackness was her ally. It concealed her in the shadow of the couch. She forced herself to keep her breathing quiet.
The stranger stepped forward, his survey complete. He went to the entertainment center and started to unhook the VCR. Calleigh silently swung her feet to the floor and stood up behind him. Three steps to the left, and she found the heavy-based table lamp. She followed the cord to the wall socket, unplugged it, then turned back. Five steps to the entertainment center, but she deleted one, allowing for the man kneeling in front of it. She stopped behind him, still concealed by the blackness, lined up her shot by listening to his breathing, and brought the lamp crashing down on his head. He dropped like a rock and lay still. She quickly turned. Four steps to the window, and she found the curtain tie. Four steps back. She knelt on his back, quickly bringing his hands around, tying them efficiently in the curtain tie. When she was done, she stood up, and laughter suddenly burst out of her like water from a fire hydrant. She felt almost giddy. Finally, the spasm of delight at being useful ran itself out. She crossed to the kitchen (eight steps, slightly left), found the phone, and oriented her fingers briefly before dialing.
He answered on the first ring. "Hi, Beautiful. What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she said. Suddenly, she was laughing again. "Horatio, I think you'd better come home, though. I just caught the Miami cat burglar."
Horatio called 911, but he beat the police there. Calleigh was still laughing when he came in.
***
"Now," said the doctor, "I want you to close your eyes. I'll take the shields and the bandages off, and then, you need to open them slowly. If you can see, it may hurt at first. Be prepared for it."
She would welcome the pain, found herself hoping for it. Two weeks of this hadn't driven her crazy, as she had feared, but she still would trade in the blackness for pain any day. Even if the pain wasn't temporary. "Horatio?"
"Right here." He was seated in the chair on her left.
"I know where you are, silly. I want you to move. Get in front of me. I want you to be the first thing I see. Or don't see, if that's what happens. Either way, I'd rather have it be you than him. No offense, Doctor."
The doctor chuckled. "None taken." Calleigh heard Horatio get up and move in front of her as the doctor shifted over slightly. His hands started freeing the end of the tape with painfully slow medical precision. "Even if you can't see right now, we should have a much better idea of the long term prognosis. It still could come back. We can at least assess damage much better now, even if it isn't healed yet. Are your eyes shut?"
"Yes," said Calleigh. Her hands clenched in anticipation. Horatio's hands reached out through the blackness to cover them. She felt the cold metal light shields come free, then the final pressure from the last layer of bandages left her eyes.
"Now, open your eyes slowly."
She opened them. The pain hit almost before the light. Sharp, bright, stabbing pain, and she welcomed it, reveled in it. She opened her eyes the rest of the way, and gradually, the bright glare decreased, and the world solidified, even if it was still a bit blurry. Horatio's eyes were the first things she clearly saw, looking back at hers. She had been given another chance to appreciate them. She launched herself out of her own chair toward him, and he squeezed her tightly. She did not bury her face against him. Instead, she studied every inch of his face, discovering him all over again, realizing that she had never lost sight of him at all, not even the last two weeks. She felt the tears of joy welling up in her eyes, and this time, she was able to cry.
*** ***
On the next episode of CSI Miami: Fearful Symmetry: First of all, Calleigh does NOT have her baby. I repeat, Calleigh does NOT have her baby. I can't just put in a "9 months later" note. Like real parents the world over, we will be kept waiting for a while. Probably not for nine months, but there are four stories of pregnancy to get through before the fifth story. That fifth one, where Cal does have her baby, is called "Complications," and as it develops, it is rapidly becoming my favorite in the series since the Hopes and Fears. A nice, long, twisted plot, multiparter with complications of all sorts. You will have to wait for it, though. Four other stories in the series first.
So what does happen in the next story? You will be introduced to the series within the series. Actually, I've already slipped it in, but you will realize it next story. It's an angst free (I swear), one part piece of fluff that will give us a chance to catch our collective breaths after Framed and Sight and before . . . um, well, after Framed and Sight. Pure fluff up next. However, it is only a one parter. I can't seem to do multipart fluff. You'll like the subseries idea, though, I hope. Stay tuned.
Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to the person who read the entire series at one gulp on Wednesday night, all the way from Fearful Symmetry through Sight, and sent me one mass review of it. She prefers to keep a low profile, but she knows who she is. Thanks for a tremendous lift this week at a point where I really needed one. I'll imagine you lurking in enjoyment reading this and future fics.
***
"I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened."
The Bible, Ephesians 1:18
***
Calleigh woke up suddenly from another dream of sight, descending reluctantly into the world she was now forced to inhabit. She had dreamed that she and Horatio were playing chase among the stars, hiding in the darkness momentarily but popping out behind stars as they unerringly found each other. The entire sky was their playground. Finally, their eyes brighter than any of the stars, they had settled contentedly in each other's arms on the moon and proceeded to eliminate anything at all that might still hide them from each other. She woke with her dream smile on her face, but even in the dream, it had been a wistful smile. She wished now that she had spent more time simply looking at him. Moonlight, starlight, soul light. He was beautiful in any setting.
She reached out to her clock on the nightstand beside the bed and traced the hands with clumsy, inexperienced fingers. It was 4:00 AM. Horatio had already told her that he wouldn't go to work again today, and while she knew it couldn't last, she was glad. Yesterday had been a laboriously fulfilling accomplishment, but she still couldn't imagine doing it by herself.
She slipped out from under the covers and turned to align herself precisely with the mattress. Three steps to the end of the bed, four beyond that to the dresser, and she managed to stop before she ran into it. She turned right as conscientiously as a soldier on parade drill and took four more steps, forcing herself to make them full-length. Left and two steps out the door, brushing the frame lightly with her fingers. Right again, six steps, and she was at the bathroom. The return journey simply reversed it all, and she was back at the bed. She climbed under the sheet and just lay there awake, enjoying the progress, still shrinking from the necessity. A warm hand suddenly enveloped her own under the sheet. Horatio squeezed her fingers in gentle support. She squeezed his back in grateful desperation, loving the feel of his hand, the strong but sensitive fingers, the delicacy of touch, most of all the connection that penetrated the blackness, just like the stars that punched through the darkness and shone anyway. Eventually, they fell asleep again, hand in hand.
***
Speed ambled into the sound lab where Eric was analyzing the microcassette. "Look at this," Speed said, tossing the notebook he had been studying onto the table, directly on top of the notes Eric was making.
"What is it?"
"Employee safety manual from the cosmetics company, but they could just title it How to Kill Enemies and Influence People."
Delko read the indicated paragraph. "Potassium bromide is extremely poisonous if taken internally. Never touch your mouth while working around this chemical. Never put any item into your mouth that has been near this chemical. Items can be dipped into a solution of potassium bromide, which will then dry, and such items can appear dry and harmless but be fatal if inserted into the mouth. With proper precautions, however, there is no danger in simply handling this chemical." He looked up at Speed. "Every employee got this? Including the secretaries?"
"Yeah. I mean, it's practically a step-by-step guide."
"CYA," said Eric. "The cover-your-ass principle. The company goes into so much detail so they can avoid liability if someone does die."
Speed shrugged, reverting to his usual nonchalance. "I guess it doesn't matter. If you want to kill someone, you'll find a way. There are whole books about it. And Internet sites."
"Yeah," Eric agreed. "I'll never look at cosmetics the same way again, though. You're lucky, man."
"Why?" When he thought about it, which wasn't often, Speed didn't think of himself as lucky.
"Breeze doesn't wear 18 layers of this junk. Low maintenance. You need somebody low maintenance."
"Would everybody just leave me and Breeze alone?"
"Gladly. Tell me your next date, so I'll know when not to bother you." He ducked as Speed grabbed the company employee manual and tried to hit him lightly upside the head with it.
"What are you two doing?" Adele's voice interrupted them from the doorway. They broke apart as guiltily as two misbehaving schoolboys caught by the principal.
"Um, processing evidence," said Speed.
"Right. I take it Horatio isn't coming in today again."
"Don't know what gave you that idea, but you're right," said Eric. Joking aside, he instantly became a conscientious CSI. "I've got something really interesting for you. This is from that tape in Claridge's desk. The one he was dictating on Friday." He hit play, and they all listened with growing interest.
"As you mentioned in your letter of . . . oh, hell . . . nope, that's not it . . . maybe in this one . . . Did you want something, Linda?"
"You already know what I want."
"And you already know you won't get it. We had a great thing going for years, Linda. Still can, if you'd just listen to reason. Don't rock the boat. And I'm still your supervisor. Your review is coming up soon, you know. I'd hate to have any minor misunderstandings affect your continued employment. Now, as my secretary, which you still are at this point, did you want something?"
"Just to let you know, I'm heading out for lunch, and I'll pick up those supplies we need after."
"Fine. Oh, wait a minute. As long as you're going, swing by the hardware store and get me a box of 1 ½ inch nails. I ran out last night, and I need some more to finish up in the shop tonight."
"So you're working in the shop tonight?"
"Your choice, Linda. I'll leave you alone to make it."
"Fine. I get your nails, and I hope you choke on them." The slam of the office door echoed dully on the tape.
"Now, then, where was I? Oh, yeah . . . Hell, I can't find it. Linda? Linda! Damn, must have already left." The tape clicked off.
"He must have had the recorder on his desk, and she didn't notice it was running," said Adele.
"Sounds like enough for a warrant to me," Speed commented.
"Me, too," Adele agreed. "Okay, I'll pull in Linda the secretary, and we'll get warrants for her place and her car, too. If we can match the car, or find the rest of that box of poisoned nails, we've got her cold."
"You think she just threw away the poisoned nails? In her own trash can at her house?" Eric was dubious.
"Eric," Adele reminded him, "how many times have we seen criminals throw away vital evidence in their own trash cans in their houses?"
"All the time," he admitted. "I just keep expecting them to get smarter, sometimes."
"They won't," said Speed. "Stupidity is the fixed constant of the universe."
"And like Horatio says, murder is their first mistake," said Adele. "All the others come after." They all paused for a second, thinking of Horatio.
"I wish they were here," said Eric. Adele and Speed nodded. It was a subdued group who left to get warrants.
***
Five steps, striding with uncertain, forced confidence into the blackness. Calleigh stopped and put out her hand, brushing the refrigerator door.
"Perfect," said Horatio, behind her. "That's 100 steps. We've got every room in this house memorized now."
"Just hope I don't tangle the numbers up," said Calleigh.
"You won't. You're the one who can track 47 separate bullet trajectories at a shoot out. You're good with numbers."
"You mean I could track them." Calleigh took four steps to him, hugging him to reassure herself.
"You still can," said Horatio. "The ability is still there, even if you have to apply it to something else. You haven't changed, Calleigh. You may have to learn some things differently, but nothing about who you are has changed. The job didn't define you. You defined it." He held her securely, letting her feel sheltered for as long as she would accept it. When he felt her start to pull away after a few minutes, he loosened his grip.
"I think I'd like to do this on my own. Just go around the house. Don't go anywhere, Horatio, but could you do something else for a bit? Something besides standing there watching me?"
"You're asking a lot, but I'll try," he replied smoothly. "You're denying me my favorite pastime, though."
She smiled at him. "Sorry. I'll make it up to you." He gave her arms a final supportive squeeze, then backed away, going back into the living room. Calleigh toured the kitchen again, reassuring herself that the counts were right, then headed down the hall. She turned right at the end, into the bedroom that would become the nursery. Lost in the thought, she started mentally replacing the furniture that was there. They would need a crib and baby furniture. And a rocking chair, of course. She remembered her mother rocking the children in her rocking chair. It was one of the few happy memories of Calleigh's childhood. Colors, she thought. We'll decorate it in something bright. Rosalind will have a happy childhood. Even her room won't be dark. Yellow, maybe. She was walking around with her hand on the wall, mentally placing butterfly decals, when she heard Horatio start playing the piano. She imagined rocking her child here, while Horatio played soft music from the other room, lulling the baby to sleep. Lost in happy contemplation, she forgot the furniture that actually was here now and banged her leg sharply on a nightstand as she turned the corner. A minor fault line rippled through the music, but it never broke it apart into silence. Horatio just kept playing, and she smiled again. A man who would hold her when she needed to be held and who would let her run into the furniture on her own in the dark when she needed to do that. Horatio, she thought for the hundredth time, I think you're perfect.
He switched songs, and she froze suddenly in the middle of the nursery-to- be. It was the theme from Ice Castles, "Looking through the Eyes of Love." She remembered what he had told her in the hospital, that she would see her daughter with a mother's eyes, even if not physically. For the first time, she truly believed it. She could still see Rosalind and Horatio with the eyes of her heart, even if this blackness was permanent. And she could adapt to life like this, if she had to. But every inch of her slight frame prayed that it wouldn't be necessary. I don't want to, she thought. I think I could do it, but please, God, I don't want to. Give me another chance, and I will never take it for granted again.
She suddenly wanted to be close to Horatio again. She exited the room and took the eleven steps down the hall, then angled slightly right and took eight more to the piano. The music stopped as she approached, although she did notice, with an inward smile, that he resolved the chord. He couldn't stand to leave music simply hanging, uncompleted. "Don't stop," she urged. "Play it again for me, Horatio."
He started playing the song again, and she stood there with one hand on his shoulder, listening. She abruptly slipped onto the piano bench alongside him, and he slid over a fraction without breaking the music, giving her room. He did hesitate slightly when she reached out and put her hands lightly on top of his. "Go ahead," she said. "I want to feel it." He started playing again, and she left her hands on his, not interfering with his fingers but feeling the interplay of muscles and tendons beneath her hands. So much going on beneath the surface, so much effort and practice to produce the smooth, completed melody. Love was like this. And like this, love was beautiful. She stayed there for a long time just sitting beside him, feeling the music through his hands as well as hearing it, enjoying the process as well as the result. Horatio finally stopped playing, moving his arm away from the keyboard to put it around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. They sat there together on the bench in the darkness and the silence, and the music went on.
***
Adele wished for Horatio. Calleigh too, of course, but she especially wished for Horatio now. She was questioning Linda, breaking her slowly by confronting her with the evidence. Speed and Eric were interested watchers, but nobody topped Horatio at manipulating a witness with courteous, deadly accuracy into sudden awareness of the solidity of the trap. He could break down witnesses no one else could make progress with. Adele was making progress with Linda, but Horatio would have had the confession already. She didn't realize it, but Speed and Eric were both thinking the same thing.
"So we can prove that your car was at the workshop and at the ditch where the body was dumped. We can prove that the killer had your brand of fingernail polish on. And we can prove that the nails were thrown away at your house. There's enough here for an arrest, even if you aren't talking."
"Arrest me then," Linda said.
"We can also prove that you had an affair with him for years." Adele leaned forward slightly, facing the other woman. "What I can't understand is why. What changed, Linda?"
Linda's expression shifted there slightly, briefly. Something had changed. Adele took a stab in the dark. "Linda, are you pregnant?" Linda studied her hands, not looking up. "It's easy enough to confirm. We can get a medical exam."
"Okay, then, I'm pregnant." It would be hard to hide the fact.
"Do you want the baby?" Linda's eyes lit up briefly before the shutters slammed across them again. Yes, she wanted the baby. "Did he want the baby?"
"He didn't care." Linda almost spit out the words, the sudden venom in her voice startling Speed and Eric. "He said I could get an abortion if I liked, and he would pay. Or go ahead and have it, but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. He said he would get me fired."
"You can prove paternity, Linda. There are absolute tests nowadays. He would have had to support the child if you pushed it."
Linda continued, the tirade coming out like a flood bursting through a dam. "He was too comfortable, he said. He didn't want anything in his life to change. Nice, undemanding wife. Nice fulfilling job. Nice secretary for an affair on the side. I asked him to marry me. He had always said he would some day."
Adele suddenly realized the motive. Not the child, but the scornful dismissal. "He laughed at you."
Linda looked up, startled, her eyes meeting the detective's. "Yes. He laughed at me. And that day, I'd been making copies of the employee manual for a new group of hires. When he asked me to get him the nails, it just jumped out at me. I watched," she added. "I parked down the street, and I was at the window of that shop in the dark, watching. When he fell, I went in the door and stood there, and I laughed at him. He died watching me laughing at him." Her shoulders slumped slightly as her energy ran out with the last of her words.
Adele stood up. Thinking of Horatio again, she used one of his favorite lines to a criminal, although she could never reproduce his delivery. "I hope it was worth it."
Linda stared at her hands, looking at the end futility of her actions. "No," she said softly. "I thought it would be. I took a calculated risk. But it wasn't." She didn't say anything else as the guard stepped forward and the handcuffs snapped into place.
Speed and Eric stayed in the interrogation room for a minute after Adele and the guard escorted Linda out. "Remind me never to laugh at a woman again," said Eric.
"Hell hath no fury," Speed quipped, but it wasn't a joke, and his tone acknowledged that. They were both more subdued than usual as they returned to the lab.
***
Calleigh and Horatio were doing the dishes after supper, Calleigh in front, Horatio behind her, his hands over hers now in the dishwater, guiding her fingers. They finished the last plate, rinsed it, and added it to the drainer. Calleigh turned around, her back against the sink, and buried herself in him. He held her tightly. "We'll get there, Cal."
"I know," she said. "I think I can now. But I don't want to."
"I'd take it for you if I could," he said.
She thought of his beautiful eyes darkened forever. "No. I'd rather have it be me."
"Hopefully, it won't have to be either of us."
She pulled away from him and carefully walked into the living room, finding the couch. "What do we do tomorrow? Where's the next 100 steps?"
He sat down beside her, putting his arm around her. "In the morning, let's go jogging."
She gasped slightly. "You're kidding." No, he wasn't. "No, you're not."
"I'll bet that blackness gives way even faster when you run into it. Maybe we can scare it off totally." He squeezed her shoulders. "I'll be with you."
"I know." They sat there in silence for a few minutes. "Horatio, will you leave me alone?"
"Never," he said instantly.
"What I meant . . ."
"I know what you meant," he replied. "I'll go somewhere else for a while, if you think you're ready. But I'll never leave you alone."
Her spirit cringed at the prospect. Perversely, that convinced her even more to try it. "I'd just like to try being here by myself for a little bit. Just a few hours."
"I could go down to CSI. Make sure the lab is still there."
She grinned. "If you go to CSI, make sure you remember to come home in a few hours."
"No worries. That lab can't hold a candle to you, Cal." He squeezed her once again, then stood up. "You sure you're ready for this?"
"I'd like to try it before we go jogging. Just for a few hours. And I can call you if I need you."
"Okay." He kissed her thoroughly, then broke away. "That blackness can't hold a candle to you either, Cal. It's already beaten."
"I know," she said, at least a quarter of the way to believing it. She heard him moving around, gathering his keys, and then she heard the door shut behind him as he left, echoing hollowly in her heart. Calleigh stood up and toured the house again. Everything was still there. Deliberately, she turned off all of the lights. Not that it made any difference to her, but she felt like it would keep her from totally facing that blackness. Once the lights were all off, she sat down on the couch again and stared defiantly at the blackness. "I will beat you," she said aloud. "I can do this." But she still didn't want to.
***
Horatio entered CSI, but he felt split, like his heart was really back with Calleigh. He avoided Ballistics and headed through the lab, pausing in Trace. Speed was wrapped up in processing some evidence, his headphones on, totally oblivious. Horatio flowed up silently behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.
As many times as he did it, the effect never grew less. Speed nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around so quickly he jerked the cord of his headphones out of the CD player. "H, one of these days, you're going to get killed sneaking up behind people like that."
"Hasn't happened yet. How are things?"
"Pretty quiet the last few days. Floater yesterday. Two guys had a fight over a woman, and one of them decided to win permanently. And we finished the ditch case today. How's Calleigh?"
"She's doing a little better. She wanted to be alone for a few hours." He looked around the labs. "This place wouldn't be the same without her."
"No," Speed agreed.
"You said you finished the ditch case?"
"Yeah, it was the secretary. Claridge got her pregnant, and when she wanted him to marry her, he laughed at her."
Horatio winced slightly. "That's been the motive for a lot of murders. People can't stand to be discounted."
"She actually called it a calculated risk, when Adele was questioning her. Can you believe that? Deciding to murder your boss, and she called it taking a calculated risk, just because she saw how she could do it."
Horatio shook his head. "If there's one thing I'd like to convince people of, it would be the value of life. Murder isn't taking a calculated risk. It's taking a life."
"Pretty pathetic life. Not that I'm siding with her, but Claridge doesn't seem like he benefited the world much."
"People can change, though. Even if they don't choose to change, they at least deserve the opportunity." He suddenly thought of Calleigh. "And sometimes circumstances change your life for you."
Speed followed his thoughts easily. "Like Calleigh."
"Right. But it's still valuable. Even when it's changed, like Calleigh, or like Phillip, every second of that life is a gift. We have no right to waste it. We certainly have no right to take it." He stood there for a minute in silence, and Speed didn't try to break it. Horatio's thoughts finally returned to his body. "I'll be up in my office. Don't work too late, Speed. I'm sure you have better things to do." He turned away and headed for the stairs.
Speed finished processing his sample, but he didn't put the headphones back on, choosing to listen to his thoughts for once instead. Horatio's words repeated in his mind like an evidence tape for analysis. "Every second of that life is a gift. We have no right to waste it." He thought of Calleigh again, forced into change. It had happened so quickly. It could happen so quickly. His hands on autopilot, he finished filling out the evidence record, then pulled out his cell phone. He hesitated for a second before calling. This isn't about calculated risks, he reminded himself. It's about life. He dialed. "Breeze. I know we're on for Friday, but are you doing anything tonight? Great, neither am I. Just didn't want to waste it."
***
Calleigh woke up abruptly with the cold certainty that something was wrong. She had stared at the blackness until it turned its impassive back toward her, then curled up on the couch and gradually drifted off to sleep. She lay there on the couch completely still, trying to place what had awakened her.
The sound came again. A low scratch from the door, and it slowly, softly opened. She instantly knew it wasn't Horatio. This was a stranger. He paused in the door, and Calleigh shrank back against the couch as she imagined him looking around in the circle of his flashlight. He hadn't turned on the lights; she would have heard the click of the switch. For once, the blackness was her ally. It concealed her in the shadow of the couch. She forced herself to keep her breathing quiet.
The stranger stepped forward, his survey complete. He went to the entertainment center and started to unhook the VCR. Calleigh silently swung her feet to the floor and stood up behind him. Three steps to the left, and she found the heavy-based table lamp. She followed the cord to the wall socket, unplugged it, then turned back. Five steps to the entertainment center, but she deleted one, allowing for the man kneeling in front of it. She stopped behind him, still concealed by the blackness, lined up her shot by listening to his breathing, and brought the lamp crashing down on his head. He dropped like a rock and lay still. She quickly turned. Four steps to the window, and she found the curtain tie. Four steps back. She knelt on his back, quickly bringing his hands around, tying them efficiently in the curtain tie. When she was done, she stood up, and laughter suddenly burst out of her like water from a fire hydrant. She felt almost giddy. Finally, the spasm of delight at being useful ran itself out. She crossed to the kitchen (eight steps, slightly left), found the phone, and oriented her fingers briefly before dialing.
He answered on the first ring. "Hi, Beautiful. What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she said. Suddenly, she was laughing again. "Horatio, I think you'd better come home, though. I just caught the Miami cat burglar."
Horatio called 911, but he beat the police there. Calleigh was still laughing when he came in.
***
"Now," said the doctor, "I want you to close your eyes. I'll take the shields and the bandages off, and then, you need to open them slowly. If you can see, it may hurt at first. Be prepared for it."
She would welcome the pain, found herself hoping for it. Two weeks of this hadn't driven her crazy, as she had feared, but she still would trade in the blackness for pain any day. Even if the pain wasn't temporary. "Horatio?"
"Right here." He was seated in the chair on her left.
"I know where you are, silly. I want you to move. Get in front of me. I want you to be the first thing I see. Or don't see, if that's what happens. Either way, I'd rather have it be you than him. No offense, Doctor."
The doctor chuckled. "None taken." Calleigh heard Horatio get up and move in front of her as the doctor shifted over slightly. His hands started freeing the end of the tape with painfully slow medical precision. "Even if you can't see right now, we should have a much better idea of the long term prognosis. It still could come back. We can at least assess damage much better now, even if it isn't healed yet. Are your eyes shut?"
"Yes," said Calleigh. Her hands clenched in anticipation. Horatio's hands reached out through the blackness to cover them. She felt the cold metal light shields come free, then the final pressure from the last layer of bandages left her eyes.
"Now, open your eyes slowly."
She opened them. The pain hit almost before the light. Sharp, bright, stabbing pain, and she welcomed it, reveled in it. She opened her eyes the rest of the way, and gradually, the bright glare decreased, and the world solidified, even if it was still a bit blurry. Horatio's eyes were the first things she clearly saw, looking back at hers. She had been given another chance to appreciate them. She launched herself out of her own chair toward him, and he squeezed her tightly. She did not bury her face against him. Instead, she studied every inch of his face, discovering him all over again, realizing that she had never lost sight of him at all, not even the last two weeks. She felt the tears of joy welling up in her eyes, and this time, she was able to cry.
*** ***
On the next episode of CSI Miami: Fearful Symmetry: First of all, Calleigh does NOT have her baby. I repeat, Calleigh does NOT have her baby. I can't just put in a "9 months later" note. Like real parents the world over, we will be kept waiting for a while. Probably not for nine months, but there are four stories of pregnancy to get through before the fifth story. That fifth one, where Cal does have her baby, is called "Complications," and as it develops, it is rapidly becoming my favorite in the series since the Hopes and Fears. A nice, long, twisted plot, multiparter with complications of all sorts. You will have to wait for it, though. Four other stories in the series first.
So what does happen in the next story? You will be introduced to the series within the series. Actually, I've already slipped it in, but you will realize it next story. It's an angst free (I swear), one part piece of fluff that will give us a chance to catch our collective breaths after Framed and Sight and before . . . um, well, after Framed and Sight. Pure fluff up next. However, it is only a one parter. I can't seem to do multipart fluff. You'll like the subseries idea, though, I hope. Stay tuned.