Heat #2

[hypergolic]

Wow, we've reached a 9 pager thread on this fic already, it doesn't seem 5 minutes since I started posting it. So it's time for a new thread I think...



Chapter 21 – Smart yet Stupid



Thump, thump, thump.
The steady beat of the rubber soled boots on the smooth floor was echoed by another pair of boots walking at the same pace just half a metre away. Greg had been working for Fed-Ex for about a year now and he’d had to come into the MDPD building on several occasions, every single time it freaked him out. He couldn’t pin down what it was that gave him the creeps about the place, whether it was the evil looks from suspects and proven criminals sitting in interview rooms; their hands cuffed behind their backs, the sad and desolate glances from the families of victims whose faces simply screamed their loss and desolation, or perhaps it was the suspicious eyes of the detectives that followed him as he walked down the corridor. He’d had to take a registered letter to a Dr Woods a couple of months ago, he hadn’t been allowed into the morgue itself, something that he was eternally grateful for, but he’d glanced through a couple of windows as he’d walked down towards her office and had seen rows of stainless steel cabinets, each with tiny name labels. What he’d seen through the next window had been even more disturbing, several gurneys each holding a corpse wrapped in a plastic body bag, one had been open just enough to allow the victim’s bluish tinged arm to stick out. By the time he’d actually met Dr Woods to hand over her letter Greg had been as white as a sheet. He’d had nightmares about that place for weeks afterwards. So today, he was very happy to find that the recipient of the letter he’d been sent to deliver apparently had an office in the main laboratory space, far away from the nightmare-inducing morgue.
The only good point about delivering mail to the MDPD was the chance that he might have to walk past the room that was usually littered with guns in various states of construction. There was a pretty blonde woman that was usually in there. Greg corrected his train of thought, she wasn’t just pretty, that was an understatement; hot, that was nearer the mark, yep, she was hot. Greg smiled when he realised that his path, as directed by the uniformed officer at his side, would indeed take him past that very lab but was incredibly disappointed when he glanced inside a moment later and found it deserted, the blonde scientist was nowhere to be seen.

He was always accompanied by a cop when he had to come into this building, that was another reason perhaps why he felt creeped out. He understood the need for an escort, they couldn’t let just anyone go wandering around in the labs, they dealt with evidence collected from the most horrific crimes in Miami in here, let the wrong person in unaccompanied and the whole place might go up in flames and goodness knows how many cases would be compromised. The uniformed officer made his way over to a short flight of stairs and Greg followed him. A quick knock on the glass door at the top of the steps elicited a ‘come in’ from inside the room. Greg was virtually shoved inside, while the officer waited at the door.
“How can I help you son?” The man that asked the question was seated at the desk in front of the large plate glass window. He leaned back in his seat as he greeted the newcomer, stretching out his arms and releasing some of the tension in his muscles. His face was set into a friendly smile, but there was something behind his expression that made Greg think that this man did not want to be smiling right now.
“Um, are you Lieutenant Caine, Sir?”
“I am.”
“I’ve got a package for you.” Greg had walked over to the desk as he spoke and handed Horatio a clipboard. “Sign here please.” The Lieutenant signed and handed the clipboard back to the Fed-Ex guy and in return received a small envelope.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
As he turned to go, Greg nearly bumped into Calleigh, who had managed to enter the room almost silently.
“Sorry Ma’am.”
“Well hey there,” Calleigh grinned widely.
Greg lost all control of his vocal chords as he tried to talk to the blonde woman that he’d been so disappointed not to see earlier and did a wonderful impression of a stuttering imbecile. He made a mental note of the name embroidered on the white lab coat she was wearing; Duquesne. He finally regained the control over his vocal chords just as the police officer outside the room cleared his throat and motioned for Greg to follow him. d**n it, what appalling timing.

“He’s quite cute.” Calleigh said with a chuckle as she watched the Fed-Ex guy practically being dragged across the floor of CSI. She had expected to hear some sort of laughter from Horatio and when none was forthcoming she looked around to take a closer look at her boss.
His head was bowed and a deep sigh escaped his lips. The envelope that he had taken from the Fed-Ex delivery guy was torn open on the desk in front of him. A sheaf of paper lay next to it and in Horatio’s hand Calleigh saw something twinkling, catching the light from the window behind her boss and reflecting it into the room.
Taking a step closer she could identify the shining object as an engagement ring.
“Horatio? What’s happened?”
“Grace…”
“What? What’s wrong?” Calleigh knew that Grace had woken from her unconscious state some time ago now. Surely there was no way for any complications to set her recovery back now. She couldn’t be…dead, could she?
“I told her we couldn’t be together.”
“You…why on Earth not?” She couldn’t understand it, she had seen the relationship between Horatio and Grace blossom from the moment they had met. She knew that he loved her as much, no, more than he had loved Marisol, probably more even than he had loved Yelina and yet he had chosen to end their relationship and suffer the severe heart-ache that was clearly visible on his face.
“Because I love her too much to lose her.”
“Horatio…sweetheart, you’re not making any sense.”
“You said it Cal. Don’t gamble what you can’t afford to lose? I can’t afford to lose her forever. I won’t put her life at risk every time I do something to irritate some gang. I’m making her a target.”
Calleigh walked around the desk and leant back against the wooden surface by Horatio’s side. “That was a poker analogy, and I was talking about your job, not your love life. So let me get this straight. You love her too much to lose her and yet you’re losing her anyway? Horatio,” she paused for her second to lend what she was about to say the emphasis that it deserved, “you are by far the smartest man I know, but sometimes you can be incredibly stupid.”
He turned to look at her, sitting back in his chair, a bemused expression on his face. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me. For the past twelve months you’ve been the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you and now you’re throwing it all away over one wacko. You’re letting them win.”
“No.” He said it with such determination that Calleigh was surprised. “It’s not about winning or losing, it’s the fact that I can’t ask Grace to put herself in danger for me. She doesn’t know what the risks are.”
“Horatio, your heart and your head are both working at a crazy pace and somehow they’re running in opposite directions, you need to get them to start listening to each other and working towards the same goal. And if you think that Grace doesn’t understand the risks then you’re insulting her intelligence. She’s not stupid, she knows what the risks are and yet she’s willing to take that risk for you. Think about it. She knows enough about your past to know what danger surrounds your life and yet she still agreed to marry you. If she’s willing to die for you then have you any idea how much she must be hurting right now to know that you’ve turned your back on her?”
All the time that Calleigh was speaking Horatio sat back in his chair, twisting the ring over and over with his fingers. She leaned over and slapped him gently on the head.
“Horatio! Are you even listening to me?”
“Hey! Yes I’m listening to you. Oh, and I’m pretty sure there’s something in the police rulebook about not hitting your boss around the head.”
“Yes, well, the people who wrote that book had never met anyone as infuriatingly noble and irritatingly stubborn as you Horatio Caine.”





_________________________
You can always rely on Calleigh for some sound advice. But we all know that Horatio can be a stubborn mule with an extraordinary sense of duty sometimes so who knows if he'll listen to her!


Hype

[sanne]

Calleigh is probably right........what do I say .......she IS right........And now.....next move is on him....what will he do....stick to his decission (listen to the mind) or try and win Grace back (listen to the heart). But even IF H will return to Grace and appologize and tell her he didn't mean to hurt her and.....well, you know.....all that stuff .......will Grace happily rush back into his arms or......has he hurt her so much he doesn't get her back that easy......?

Sandra

[tenfour]

Oh you are so very lucky I was giving my blood away yesterday and was allowed to go dashing around killing people for destroying their own fanfic relationships and hurting characters who have become too special to me!
Brilliant chapter however the emotion was written superbly and the little speeches from both H and Grace were spot on.
But no, now the engagement ring had come back this is not so good....I'm not sure even if Calleigh gets through that Grace will welcome him back all too easily and I could understand that.

Me however....that would be a different matter entirely

[NV Oracle]

Well, tenfour, if she's sent back his ring this way, I don't think she's going to be welcoming him back quite so quickly as you're thinking. Hopefully they will get back together, but Horatio is going to have to do some serious talking to get back into her good graces (pardon the pun).

Although Horatio was right, in a way, Calleigh is also right, in that he can be soooo blastingly frustrating as he is when he's trying to protect the people he loves. Hopefully someone can pound some since into his brain.

Great chapter, Hype. Can't wait to see where you take it next.

Your friend
NV Oracle

[hypergolic]

Wow - I've had a productive day today...DC-wise anyway...banners, wallpapers, avas...I'm about 11,000 words into a new PoL fic and I've pretty much decided how the next part of this trilogy's going to go...oh and I managed to proof read the next chapter of Heat - which is why I'm posting it now.
Hoorah!

Round and round the story goes...


Chapter 22 – Bygones and Breakthroughs


As Horatio walked through the crime lab it felt like he was battling against air that was as thick as treacle. He’d come down into the main lab briefly to grab a cup of coffee and found that all his get up and go appeared to have, well, got up and gone, leaving him with little enthusiasm for returning to his office and re-immersing himself in the mountain of paperwork that still stood on his desk.
There was only one other person in the break room when Horatio arrived. Rick Stetler was pouring himself a cup of coffee from the communal pot, stirring in a couple of sugars, probably to mask the taste of the god-awful caffeine brew that the county foisted on its workers. Ordinarily Horatio would walk on by and stop back to collect a cup of coffee once he was sure that Rick had left, but today he decided to take a different approach.
“Rick.” Horatio dipped his head slightly in the Sergeant’s direction as a greeting.
“Horatio.” Stetler replied, filling the one word greeting with as much venom as he could muster.
It struck Horatio that it was such a stupid dance that the pair played around each other, observing the societal niceties but each desperately hoping that the other was going to fall flat on their face.
“You know what Rick? I was thinking, we should go grab a drink sometime.”
“Well I knew you’d…” Rick paused mid-sentence, “…I’m sorry, what did you say?” His face was the picture of utter confusion. “For a second there I thought you said…”
“We should get a drink sometime. Try and iron out some of our differences, for the sake of the lab.”
Rick was glancing around warily, obviously convinced that this was a ploy by Horatio to get him reprimanded or something. “Horatio are you feeling ok?” He hissed.
“Yeah, still a bit battered and bruised I guess, but not too bad, thanks.”
“Well, that’s good. Anyway, I’d better go…” He motions towards the door.
“Yeah, sure, I should probably be getting back to it as well. But Rick, just one thing; I just don’t think you’d enjoy being a stock broker.”
Rick frowned, Horatio had clearly lost it. “I wouldn’t…what?...Horatio what the hell are you talking about?”
“Someone mentioned that you may have been thinking about leaving the force and going into the stock market, or real estate.”
“Who the hell told you…oh…” Realisation dawned on Stetler’s face as he remembered a certain one-sided conversation he’d had with a man that he’d been certain had been asleep in a hospital bed and worked out that Horatio wasn’t mad. “Listen, I don’t know what you think you heard but you’re dead wrong.” Rick’s face was starting to get red, whether it was with embarrassment or anger Horatio couldn’t tell.
“I just…”
“You mention a word of this to anyone Caine and I’ll…I’ll…”
“Surprise people by showing them that you actually have a human side Rick?”
“I don’t need people to like me to do my job Caine.”
“No but it’s not necessary for you to make them hate you either. I think that you’re a good man, you’ve made a few monumental mistakes, but I don’t think you’re a natural bastard.”
“Well I…” His retort, if he had managed to find one was cut off by Ryan’s excited arrival.
“Horatio. Oh, I didn’t see you there Sergeant.” Ryan addressed the IAB man with a voice that dripped with contempt and a look that suggested Stetler was something unpleasant that he’d just found on the bottom of his shoe. The necessary niceties observed, Ryan turned his back on Stetler and continued talking to his boss. “Horatio I think we caught a break in the case.”
“Lead the way Mr Wolfe. And Rick, you call me if you ever feel like getting that drink.” Horatio patted Stetler once on the arm and then turned to walk away down the corridor.
Ryan gawked open-mouthed. Had Horatio actually just suggested the idea of going for a drink with the rat that was Rick Stetler wouldn’t completely disgust him?
“Mr Wolfe? You said something about a break in the case?”
“Oh, uh yeah, right H. In the trace lab…Did you just…?”
“The case Mr Wolfe, concentrate on the case.” Horatio couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he saw the utterly astonished expression on Ryan’s face.

-----------------------------------------

“So, what do we have Mr Wolfe?” Horatio asked as he strode into the trace lab only a few steps behind the younger CSI.
The large screen mounted on the wall of the lab was displaying a rotating diagram of the molecular structure of a familiar substance.
“Cocaine.”
“Ok, that puts pretty much half of Miami in the picture, care to elaborate on that?”
“We found a few baggies of coke in Lorenzo Castonato’s pockets when we went through his clothes after the autopsy. It seems that he was planning on having a little celebration after carrying out the hit on you and Grace.” Ryan didn’t pause and Horatio found himself smiling at the young man’s enthusiasm. Ordinarily people tip-toed around the subject of his being shot for fear of prompting some sort of flash-back, but not Ryan, no, right now he was far too single-minded, far too caught up in the excitement of the science that he hadn’t given it another thought. “I’ve run a sample of the cocaine through the mass-spec to analyse its components and to see exactly what it’s been cut with and in what quantities. Then I ran the resulting composition through the database to check if that particular cut is in the system.” Now Ryan took a moment to pause.
“And?” Horatio had to prompt him to continue.
“Oh, right. Well, actually, take a look.” Ryan turned to the computer behind him and typed a command line into the machine. Immediately the image of the spinning molecule vanished from the screens around the lab and was replaced with a graph charting the chemical composition of the substance sample from the case that Ryan was now programming in. “It’s incredibly unlikely to find pure cocaine being traded around Miami. If you’re lucky it’ll only be mixed with an inert cutting agent like Mannitol or Lactose, if you’re not so lucky you’ll get a batch that’s been mixed with rat poison; it all depends on how desperate the dealer is to make a quick buck...and whether they need the repeat custom. Every batch is different, a cook might use the same kind of cutting agents every time he bulks out his stash, but he’ll never be able to perfectly replicate a mix, not when you’re examining it under a microscope anyway.”
“And the cocaine you recovered from our hit-man?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary where the cut is concerned, nothing really malicious. But when I ran it through the database it came up with a sample from the same batch.”
“There’s already a sample in the system?” Now Horatio was intrigued.
“Yep.”
“What case?”
Ryan typed another command and a second chemical signature appeared on the screen. Ryan dragged the newly recalled composition pattern until it lay over the top of the first signature. It was clear that each of the peaks and troughs of the blueprint perfectly matched. Finally the computer identified the match and flashed a green box in the centre of the screen which read ‘match confirmed’ before the notification faded and was replaced by the details of the cases in which the two samples of drugs were collected into evidence.
“The Robert Genero case. The drug stash that we recovered from the American Airlines Arena is a perfect match to the baggies we took off Lorenzo Castonato.”
“And suddenly it’s all becoming clear. Thank-you Mr Wolfe.” Horatio strode out of the lab, instantly reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. “Cal? I need you to go back and take another look at the report’s notebook. Oh and Cal, how are your accounting skills?”

---------------------------------------------------------

Salvatore Attrasco was nothing more than a yob in gentleman’s clothing. His white suit was of the highest quality; the material impeccably sourced and the manufacturing without a single fault. But somehow the bulk of his bulging, gym-enhanced biceps threw out the clean lines of the garment and told the world that this guy was only acting at being classy, that he was more comfortable dealing drugs in Hialeah than sipping champagne and living the high life in Coconut Grove. But right now his posture, lounging back in the metal chair with his feet on the table in front of him, said more about his lack of class than even his evident discomfort at wearing a sharp suit could conjure.

He lazily looked round as the glass door to the interview room opened and Eric walked in. He raised an eyebrow when he caught sight of Attrasco’s shoes on the table. Allowing the manila folder he had carried into the room to drop to the surface of the table with a quiet thud, he then settled himself into a chair opposite his suspect.
“Let me ask you a little question Mr Attrasco; did your mother ever tell you not to put your feet on the table?”
“Nah, I guess she forgot to mention that,” he replied with a smirk.
“Ok, let me rephrase that; get your feet off the d**n table.”
Attrasco’s horrible smirk strengthened, but he let his feet fall to the floor with a thump, although his posture remained relaxed and he didn’t sit up in the chair. It was, Eric presumed, a way of telling the CSI that he wasn’t worried and that he’d be walking out of here in less than an hour.
“Ok, so let’s get this party started pal, why’d you have me dragged in here?”
“We have reason to believe that you may have been involved in the recent shooting of a police officer, it’s standard practice to interview any interested parties.”
“Yeah? Hey, I heard about some cop getting shot recently; Lieutenant Caine, right? I heard his girl got involved too; both dead from what I hear. I was real sorry to hear about that.” He snorted a laugh at his own false sentiment.
“Well that’s very touching, but are you sure about that, Sal?” Horatio had stepped forward from the alcove by the window where he had been standing, out of Salvatore’s sight. He turned to face the suspect and dipped his head as he removed his shades.
Horatio’s sudden appearance cut Attrasco’s laugh short and he jumped up from his chair in surprise.
“Sit down Sal.”
“No way man, you’re dead, I heard the reports on the radios after my boy…”
Horatio raised his eyebrows, he was pretty sure that Attrasco was about to say ‘after my boy shot you’, a statement that could be submitted as corroborating evidence in a court of law, but Attrasco caught Horatio’s expectant expression just in time and stopped his mouth running away with him just in time.
“You think I look dead, Eric?”
He looked him up and down before answering. “I reckon you’re lookin’ pretty good for a corpse H.” Eric almost managed to keep a straight face, only the laughter in his eyes and the slight twitch at the corners of his mouth gave him away.

“So, apparently you weren’t expecting to see me again.” Horatio came to lean against the interview table.
“Only in an open casket, Caine.”
“Sorry to disappoint you. Tell me about Las Hormigas Bravas, Sal.”
“How’d you…?” The mention of Las Hormigas had evidently rattled Attrasco and thrown his thingysure attitude somewhat, it took a few seconds for him to regain his composure. “What the hell you talking about Caine?”
“Las Hormigas Bravas, Salvatore, I think you know what I’m talking about.”
“Fire ants? What, you got an infestation problem?”
Horatio smirked. “I don’t know Sal, how about you tell me if it’s a problem I need to deal with.” Horatio paused, pushed himself away from the table and walked to the window where he spent a few seconds apparently admiring the view. Of course the Lieutenant wasn’t merely taking a few moments to appreciate the verdant green landscaping that surrounded the MDPD building, he was giving his interviewee a few moments to think about what had been said up to this point.

In some cases it was useful to keep a suspect talking endlessly, to let them tie themselves up in knots of lies and false alibis, answering questions in a quick back and forth, depriving them of the chance to think properly about what they were saying. But in other cases it was just as useful to intersperse the interview with several silences. You found that some interviewees hated the silences so much that they talked about anything just to fill the quiet moments, a course of action that usually led to them revealing more than they had intended and giving themselves away. In other cases you needed to let the suspect think and decide what the best course of action would be to get them out of this place quicker. Most criminals, especially those as successful as Salvatore Attrasco, were survivors, they knew what they needed to do and they’d do it if it meant pulling themselves out of the nuts, even if it meant putting someone else in their place instead.
The way you conducted an interview was less about the training that you went through at the academy, there was no hard and fast formula to a successful interview technique, it was all about being able to read people, and no-one was better at reading people than Horatio Caine.

Finally Horatio turned and broke the silence. “I tell you what, why don’t you lift your shirt up Sal? See if the problem’s as widespread as I figure it is.”
Sal squinted as Horatio stood in virtual silhouette against the window, through which the Miami sun was blazing. “I don’t think so Caine, not without a warrant.”
“I don’t need a warrant to search your person, you were convicted of an assault a few months back, you’re still on a suspended sentence, right?”
“Yeah,” Attrusco mumbled his reply.
“Then that’s all the warrant I need, now lift up your shirt.” This time Attrasco complied with Horatio’s request. He knew what the Lieutenant was looking for so he only bothered to lift the shirt on the right hand side of his body. The absence of the shirt, coupled with the low slung white trousers revealed the beginning of a line of fire ant tattoos.
“Well, there you go. So you still gonna play dumb Sal or are you gonna help yourself in this?”
“Depends what you want to know.”
“Well, I know that those tattoos place you as a member of Miami’s current elite criminal gang and with your background and contacts I like you for being the guy in charge of Las Hormigas, or if not in charge then certainly one of the generals.”
“I ain’t sayin nothing to you. I don’t know what you’re talking about man.” Attrasco let his shirt drop back and crossed his arms across his chest.
“Ok, fine, you don’t really need to tell me anything, the evidence will always do the talking for you. But let me run something past you. I think someone got in touch with you about a hit, it was a big job, involved a cop, a cop that’s made life tricky for a few friends of his in the city, am I close?”
“Listen Caine, bear in mind that this is all purely hypothetical, I’m a law abiding guy…” he was interrupted for a moment by a spluttered laugh from Delko. Salvatore shot him a cold look before continuing. “…but if, get that, if I were to be the guy who called some of the shots for this group, no pun intended, then I know for sure that there’s no way I’d get involved in a cop killing for anything as paltry as twenty-thousand bucks. The blow-back from something like that just ain’t worth the hastle.”
“Someone offered you twenty grand for a hit but you turned it down? Who offered you the cash Sal?”
“This is all hypothetical remember? I don’t know who’d do something like that.”
“Ok, so you don’t want to reveal who wanted to take the contract out, that’s fine, I’ll work that out without your help, the evidence…”
“…Yeah, yeah, the evidence will tell you what you need, right? Just get on with it Caine.”
“What I do want to know though is how, if you turned the contract down, did one of your boys end up doing the shooting? We checked him, he was a Hormigas boy; a gold card carrying gang member from the number of tattoos scrawled across his chest.”
“Who knows what drives guys to do things like that? Perhaps he just went a little crazy.” Sal shrugged before leaning forward, his next words almost whispered. “But, and again this is all hypothetical, I will say that it’s a good job you killed him in that shoot-out Caine, because I’ve heard that if anyone goes off and does a little freelance without getting the permission from the boss first then the boy’s gonna be looking at enduring a whole lot of pain.”
“So the hit went down without your permission. Someone came to you to take out a hit, you turned it down and one of your boys went and accepted it on a freelance basis.”
Horatio glanced around and caught sight of Calleigh hovering outside the interview room. She caught his eye and beckoned him to come out.
“Well, Mr Attrasco, it’s been a pleasure, the information you’ve given us is most greatly appreciated.” Horatio grinned.
“You’re letting me go?”
“Well, you were never under any real obligation to be here in the first place, Sal. This was just a friendly chat.” Horatio was fairly certain that he heard Atrasco mutter the word ‘bastard’ under his breath as he swept out of the interview room.




_________________
So, someone tried to take out a hit on H, using the Fire Ants as the shooters, but Sal turned them down...(he knew that H could cause him trouble even from the grave - wise man)
Renzo took on the freelance job and paid the price. Hmm, I wonder who tried to take out the hit and if it has anything to do with that cocaine...


Hype
;-)

[sanne]

And I'm wondering what Calleigh has to say to H.........

Sandra

[tenfour]

Oh good stuff, going round and round.....but you know I am missing Grace! I think that perhaps Alex needs to get herself involved here!

Loved the part with Stetler, expertly done again.

Now a couple of questions that you probably won't answer, please tell us how long this story may be and if we do get some more happiness before the end......I'm in tatters at the moment, I dread to think how poor Grace is feeling!

[margaret1234]

Two excellent chapters. Loved Calleigh giving H a dressing down and the scene with Stetler was classic. The interview scene was brilliant as well. Mmm...so Grace gave her ring back....Horatio you have really, really hurt her.....but, if you try to get her back don't think it will be easy...the hurt went deep. In fact, I think we may not see them back together in this part of the Triology. However, hope I am wrong.

Margaret

[NV Oracle]

Very well done, Hype. Can't wait to see what Calleigh has to say. Stetler is a riot.

Your friend
NV Oracle

[hypergolic]

So on with the story...


Chapter 23 – Follow the Money

“Is that Salvatore Attrasco?” Calleigh asked, her deep Southern drawl cutting through the background noise of the department as Horatio stepped out of the interview room and came to stand next to her.
“Yep. One and the same.”
“And how does he fit into this case?”
“Actually it’s thanks to a tip off from Mr Berkeley that we pulled Salvatore in for a quick chat. He suggested that he might have some information that we’d find useful if our shooter was a Fire Ant.”
“Jake?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“He’s risking a lot to get us this information Horatio.”
“I know, but he’s a good cop and he knows how to look after himself.”
“I hope you’re right Horatio.”
Horatio saw the worry in her eyes. Jake was a lucky guy, it was unfortunate that he was too preoccupied to se it. “You ever known me to be wrong? Jake’s a good cop, he’ll be fine Cal.”
She shrugged noncommittally and Horatio took that as the best he was going to get.
“So, I presume the reason that you’re here means that you’ve had some joy in what you’ve been looking into.”
“Yep. I got a lead.” The smile was back as Calleigh pushed her personal worries to the back of her mind and concentrated on the case again. “We now know that there’s a direct link between the drug gang from the arena and Lorenzo, our trigger happy Fire Ant. I checked over the financial records of everyone mentioned in Keisha’s notes like you wanted me to and I’ve dug up a large sum of money transferred out to an unnamed account just two days before the attack on you and Grace.”
“Well, we know that they’re into the narcotics scene, it could just be a coincidence, perhaps they’re buying a new stash.” Horatio was pretty sure that that wasn’t the case, but he liked to push each member of his team and to do that he needed to play the devil’s advocate every now and then. He wanted his team to have faith in the evidence that they’d uncovered, and for that they needed to be able to argue their case with complete conviction, to think of the questions that a defence attorney might come up with and find an answer to back up their theories even before the question was asked.
“It’s possible that it could be a drug buy, I’m not disputing that, but the timing, the amount, which for these guys isn’t huge when you’re talking cocaine, and my gut’s saying it’s more than just another buy.”
“This substantial sum, twenty-thousand dollars is it?” Horatio smirked a little as he saw Calleigh’s mouth fall open.
“Horatio, sometimes you amaze me, how in the heck do you know that?”
“Oh I have my sources.” He nodded in the direction of Salvatore Attrasco, who was just being led out of the interview room by a uniformed officer. Sal there tells me that twenty-thousand’s the sum that was on the table for the hit. I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended at the amount.” He smirked.
Calleigh couldn’t help but smile too, trust Horatio to find the fun in a payment that was meant to buy his own death. “How’d Attrasco know about the hit?”
“Seems that the contract was offered to Las Hormigas first, they turned it down. Apparently they thought I’d be just too much hassle even when I’m dead.” He shrugged.
Calleigh rolled her eyes. “So Lorenzo went behind the Fire Ants’ backs and took up the contract as a freelance gig?”
“Yeah. It seems that Sal wasn’t very impressed by that.”
“I’m not surprised, guess he needs to keep a tighter leash on his boys. Well, the amount of cash matches up, I’d say that this is the payment we’re after.”
Horatio altered his stance which gave him just a second or two to think through what Calleigh had said up until that point. “You said the sum was paid into an unnamed account, you know that if we can’t pin a name to that account then the information’s useless to us in getting a conviction? Can the financial team trace the account’s owner?”
“Funny you should ask that.” Now it was Calleigh’s turn to smirk. “It took some serious digging and we had to cajole a bank representative or two, but yeah, they got a name for the account’s owner.”
“Who? Please give me some good news.”
“Does the name Lorenzo Castonato ring a bell?”
“Oh you better believe it does. So that proves it, this was the payment for the hit.”
“Certainly looks that way.”

“So if the payment went to Lorenzo, who did it come from?”
“You’re going to need to follow me through the process.” Calleigh flipped open the manila folder that she had been holding as they spoke. “I followed your directions and went back to Keisha O’Neill’s reporter’s notebook, she’d managed to get the names of everyone involved in the gang that dosed Enturba.” Calleigh showed Horatio a photocopied page from the notebook they’d collected from the ‘Miami Sentry’ offices so long ago now that it seemed a lifetime away. There were names highlighted throughout the text, evidently the pool of suspects whose finances Calleigh had been investigating. “We went into the records of everyone on the list for the past couple of months checking for any large sums that stood out as irregular.”
“You find anything?”
“We found a few payments that seemed a little odd and they were traced through the system, consider my eyes well and truly opened, some of these guys are into some very kinky stuff.” Calleigh arched one eyebrow and smirked.
Horatio stifled a chuckle. “You said one of the accounts paid out to Lorenzo’s unnamed account, so who paid out?”
“The payment came from the account of Antony Genero.”
“Genero? Any relation to Robert, the guy who shot the reporter?”
She smiled grimly. “Actually there’s a close family connection; he’s Robert’s brother.”
“So I put a bullet in Robert and stopped the family drug business. You think he was more annoyed about me shooting his brother or that he’d lost his business partner?”
Calleigh shrugged. “A little from column A, a little from column B. Perhaps we should ask him.”
“I think you’re right, I think it’s time to get Mr Genero in for a little chat, don’t you?”
“I’m way ahead of you for once, H. I’ve got a uniform detail already dispatched to bring him in for questioning.”
“Nice work Calleigh.”

-----------------------------

Anthony Genero sat slouched in the chair that only an hour or so earlier Salvatore Attrasco had vacated. But whereas there was never any question that Attrasco was a hard-as-nails character, Genero looked like a petulant teenager in comparison. Horatio estimated he was in his early thirties, a mop of jet black hair slicked back across his scalp with gel, his skin tanned a deep brown from afternoons spent at the beach.
As Horatio and Calleigh entered the interview room, their suspect looked up quickly and Horatio noted with pleasure that he registered a look of surprised to see the red haired lieutenant before he once again lowered his head to stare meekly at the floor.

Calleigh settled herself in a chair across the table from Anthony Genero whilst Horatio stood at the window, in much the same position he had adopted when questioning Salvatore earlier that afternoon. The room remained silent, neither of the CSIs speaking, they simply watched their subject, who was getting visibly more nervous as the seconds ticked by.
The hatred that the guy was radiating was palpable, but he didn’t have the persona of Attrasco, didn’t have the confidence to look the officers in the eye and lie to them. Sal had had a lifetime to get used to dealing with law enforcement, Tony on the other hand was just starting out, and if Horatio had any say in it, he wasn’t going to get a chance to get used to it before taking an enforced retirement.
The silence continued, and again Horatio was struck by the complete contrast from their last interviewee; Sal had relished the chance to initiate the verbal sparring, but Tony seemed determined not to be the one to make the opening gambit, unaware that the longer it went on for the worse it got for him as his nerves rapidly grew. Eventually, whether it was through pity or exasperation, Horatio started the ball rolling. “So Tony, little birdy tells me you’ve got yourself mixed up in some none too pleasant business.”
“Don’t know what you mean man.”
“Well, let me enlighten you.” Calleigh chimed in now and started to lift fingers on her right hand as she counted off the charges that were mounting up against the subject in front of her. “First there’s getting involved in a narcotics ring, that’s a possession and supply rap, then there’s your involvement in throwing the spread for the Miami Heat team by dosing their star player, after that we’ve got you for a felony murder deal in the death of Keisha O’Neill, you’ve got your brother to thank for that one.” She paused, letting all of that sink in before she continued. “All of that’s already signed and sealed and you’re going to be charged with that little list as soon as we’re finished here, we’ve got a prosecutor who’s just itching to talk to you. But right now we’re gonna talk about a little freelance job you contracted following the death of your brother.”
“You mean his murder.”
“Actually no, Mr Genero,” Calleigh continued smoothly. “Murder indicates a premeditated intention to kill, death as a result of self-defence does not carry the same title. So, you wanna tell us about that?”
“Nah, I wasn’t involved, whoever’s telling you that nuts they’re lyin man.”
Horatio stepped forward, a glint in his eye. “So you’re going to deny any and all involvement?”
“Yeah, d**n straight.”
“Good. I like to know where we stand from the outset. So, Tony, you know a guy called Lorenzo Castonato?”
“No, never heard of the dude.”
“Really? Well, you paid him a substantial amount of money not so long ago, a substantial amount of money that secured his services as a gun for hire. And call me naïve, but I don’t tend to pay five-figure sums of money to people I don’t know. So either you’re stupid or you’re lying. Which is it?”
“Hey, you need a warrant to go snooping around in my bank records.” There was a look of triumph that appeared on his face as he finally looked up from the floor. “And if you got no warrant then you got no proof, so I’m walking.” He started to push himself out of the chair, but Horatio stood directly in front of him, halting his progress.
“Stick around Mr Genero, it’s just getting interesting.”
Calleigh pushed a wad of papers, stapled together in one corner across the table. “One warrant, signed by a judge. We’ve already managed to prove that you were involved in drugs and murder, believe me it wasn’t hard to get a judge to sign off on a warrant for your bank records. Oh, and if it was my call, I’d say you were both; lying and stupid.”
Horatio had to turn away for a beat to hide the smile that erupted on his face following Calleigh’s comment. When he turned back, however, he was the image of professionalism. “We traced a payment made from your account to an account owned by Lorenzo Castonato; a man who was killed during the attempted murder of a civilian and a police officer, just to clarify for the record, that police officer was me. We have a source who was present when the contract was first offered to Las Hormigas Bravas and can identify you in a line-up.” That was stretching the truth a little, true Salvatore could identify Robert in a line-up, but he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t want to be branded a snitch. But Genero didn’t need to know that bit of information. “When they turned it down we know that Lorenzo took the hit on as a freelance job. Shall I continue?”
“That son of a b**ch.” Genero muttered. “He said the account couldn’t be traced back to him.”
“Well he was wrong. It can and it has been traced.” Calleigh interjected sweetly.
“So are we to assume that with that admission you are admitting to taking out the contract to kill Grace Turner?”
“Who the f**k’s she?”
“This is Grace Turner.” Calleigh once again opened the file she had bought into the room and extracted a photograph encased in the plastic of an evidence bag. It was the photograph that they had retrieved from Lorenzo’s pocket. “The woman that you had shot in the parking lot. It’s rather remiss of you not to find out your intended victims’ names Mr Genero.”
“Huh.” He was silent for a moment, running the evidence that he had been presented with through his mind, trying to work out if there was any way of squirming his way out of this charge, finding none, he finally relaxed a little and turned to face Horatio, his expression as dark as thunder. “How about I cut you a deal Caine? I tell you what you want to know, I make a confession for the hit and roll over on the coke charges.”
Horatio navigated the table and came to stand by Calleigh’s shoulder. “And what do you get in return?”
“I get to ask the great Lieutenant Caine a question.”
Genero had a sly sneer on his face that Horatio really didn’t like the look of, but there was no way he could pass up the chance to have his suspect hand him a signed confession. “Fine, fire away, ask your question.”
“How’d it feel to watch someone you love get shot right in front of you? Did it just tear you apart inside?” That malignant expression was still there, taunting him, goading him into some sort of reaction.
Horatio saw Calleigh shift in her seat, uncomfortable at what Genero was putting her boss and friend through.
“Was that the idea, to get to me through her?” His voice remained calm despite the pain that he could feel welling up in his chest.
“That’s not a proper answer Caine, you’re being evasive.” Genero had the audacity to laugh. “Tell me, did a part of your soul crumble when you thought she was going to die. When you knew there was nothing you could possibly do to save her?”
Calleigh twisted around and whispered to her boss who leaned down to allow her to talk to him. “You don’t have to answer his questions you know, we’ve got enough evidence to put him away, we don’t need his confession.”
“It’s ok Cal.” Horatio turned to Genero and answered, “Yes it did.” There was a momentary look of victory on Genero’s face as Horatio made his admission, a look that soon turned to a scowl as Horatio continued. “But if you think it’s the first time I’ve seen someone I love die in front of me while I could feel their blood on my hands then you haven’t done your homework very well. It has happened before and I’ve survived, because when things like that happen I know that the only remedy to the pain is to get scum like you off the streets. Going after the people close to me just makes your whole situation worse in the long run.”
Genero was getting visibly more angry by the moment. His question had back-fired, and he had been left with no satisfaction. “You killed my little brother, Caine! My flesh and blood. My parents have disowned me, they blame me for getting him mixed up in this whole thing in the first place.”
Horatio would have liked nothing better than to have beaten their suspect to a pulp right there but there were better ways of making him hurt than breaking his nose.
“You said if I answered your question you’d roll, well, I answered your question so roll kid. I’ll ask you again, was that the plan; to get at me through her?”
“Actually it was more than that.” There was that sneer again, braking through the rage. “The idea was to have you watch her die and then kill you, knowing that the last thing you’d see was her dead body, knowing that the last thing you’d feel was her blood on your hands and knowing that the last thing you’d think was that it was all your fault. But you managed to mess up my best laid plans. Who the hell takes their gun to the beach?”
“As it turns out, I do, and my fiancé too apparently.” Actually, Horatio hadn’t thought about it before that moment, but he and Grace really were similar creatures. “You talk about your best laid plans being messed up but it’s all just a case of bad research.” Horatio leaned forward now, resting his knuckles on the table so that he could whisper his next words to Gernero. “I didn’t mess them up, you did that all by yourself.”

Horatio stood back and crossed his arms across his chest, pleased to see the pure hatred that flashed across Anthony Genero’s face in that instant. “Turns out you were right Cal, he was both lying and stupid. You ok finishing up in here? I’ve got something I need to arrange.”
“Sure no problem H, will you send the prosecutor in? Mr Genero here needs to come good on his deal and write out a full confession.”
“No problem. Mr Genero, I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure but it hasn’t. I’ll see you in court.”



______________________________________
So, the mystery of the hit is all wrapped up - Genero's being handed to the DA with a big red bow on him ready for prosecution - this guy's going down...hard!
But what was the thought that flew through Horatio's mind towards the end of the interview? he and Grace are similar creatures? Ooh.
TenFour - Actually I can let you in on a bit of information. This chapter (the one you've just read) is actually the penultimate chapter in this saga. Yep, only one more installment to go (although it is rather a long installment). And well, I'm starting to miss Grace too - I think she should appear in the last chapter don't you?
Now TenFour, you've read Phoenix, so you do realise that I'm a sucker for a happy ending right?


Hype

[sanne]

Bet that tought makes him rush back to the hospital, back to Grace to see if he's able to fix what he has broken.......

Great chap....loved the interrogation of both guys........they always think they're smarter than the CSI's, don't they

Sandra

[tenfour]

Well interestingly enough after I wrote that I had a thought to how the first part of the saga ended and allowed myself to hope that you were a bit of a creature of habit.....I am definitely living in hope now and can't wait for the next part! Although I am under no illusions that this will be easy. Bring Grace back...

Great wrap up of the case though, your case writing is excellent, I love the twists and turns and the link ups as all the pieces of investigations work together, well done!

Bring on the happy ending........please.......

[sundancer]

I've read the last three chapters in one go. They're great! But I'm with Sanne: bring it to a happy ending and let Horatio do just the right thing! *puppy eyes*

[margaret1234]

Wonderful chapter........well of course Horatio is off to try to repair the damage done......and I hope he is successful, I love happy endings. But, I can't help thinking Amy plans a surprise for us. There is after all to be a third story.

Margaret

[hypergolic]

Well seeing as how you've asked so nice here's the final chapters of 'Heat'. I relented in the end and split it into two chapters.
Em - If you're still reading this then you might want to just skip chapter 25 altogether for fear of your cliché alert going into overdrive.
I don't care if it is unbelievably sacharine sweet - like I said, I'm a sucker for a happy ending.
(yep, I'm a creature of habit TenFour!)
Besides, I'm suffering with a cold and the snuggly fluffy-ness of this makes me feel better.


Chapter 24 – For Better or Worse

Two days later.

The hospital’s sliding doors hissed as they slid open and Grace walked through them into the bright sunlight. She’d almost forgotten how hot Miami was, she’d spent the past few weeks stuck in the air conditioned surroundings of the hospital where there was no warm and cold, just a constant temperature preordained to be the optimal warmth for recovery. She shrugged her shoulders, letting the weight of her bag settle evenly.
“Let me carry that for you Ma’am?”
She turned around and found him standing up from where he had been sitting on a bench beside the main doors. Even the sight of him made her want to cry, why did he have to come now, just when she needed to be strong?
“Horatio. I didn’t expect to see you.” Grace allowed her eyes to sink to the floor, refusing to meet the piercing gaze of his crystal blue eyes.
“Well, I’m spontaneous like that.” He took her hand as he came to stand next to her, stroking the soft skin of the back of her hand with his thumb and raised his hand to take the bag from her shoulder.
His touch to her hand sent a further wave of warmth over her skin, pushing a pulse up her arm like an electrical current. Grace pulled her hand away from his grasp and stepped back putting some distance between them, still keeping her eyes firmly locked on the floor, refusing to let him take her bag.
“Horatio I’m tired and I want to go home. If you have something to say, just say it. Otherwise you’re just being cruel.” She sighed.
“I have something I need to say. Can we sit down somewhere?”
“I have a cab booked. Will it take long?” She imagined that he needed to ask her a few follow-up questions about the shooting, Detective Tripp had already visited her to take a statement regarding what she remembered. She was surprised that Horatio was actually being allowed to be involved in this case; the same shooter had, after all, put him in the intensive care unit alongside her. She thought he would have been forced to recuse himself from the investigation.
‘Will it take long?’ Horatio thought about her question. Hopefully a lifetime, he silently answered, the message ran through his brain before he had chance to stop it and a twinge of sadness tugged at his heart as he contemplated the possibility that what he was planning to do didn’t work out the way he hoped.
“Cancel the cab. I’ll take you home.”
“Horatio, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Grace shook her head.
“Please, Grace.” There was something in his voice that made her look up and when she met his eyes she cursed silently at herself for giving in. He had that puppy-dog expression that just made her heart melt every time she saw it.
“Fine,” d**n, how did he manage to do that? How did he always manage to break through her adamant defences and make her crumble? “But not here. I’ve had enough of hospitals to last me a lifetime. I want to sit out in the sun for a while.”
“Sure. How about we go downtown for a while?”
Grace nodded in agreement, thinking he meant down to the MDPD building.
“Good. So, are you going to let me carry the bag?” He chuckled quietly and saw her smile briefly at his persistence.

The drive was quiet, neither really knowing what to say. The radio, tuned to a local station that played a good mix of popular music and oldies, babbled quietly and indecipherably to itself. Grace leaned over and turned the volume knob, bringing the volume up to an audible level to cover the awkward silence that was edged with a little frostiness on Grace’s part. She had phoned and cancelled the cab she had booked, not wanting the driver to miss a fare because he was sitting outside the hospital waiting for a discharged patient that would never appear. Grace had been surprised when Horatio had pulled the Hummer into a parking lot nowhere near the MDPD building and found herself being guided along a path that ran beside the water. After a few minutes Grace’s memory kicked in and told her where they were headed. Biscayne Courthouse stood out from a complex of local government buildings, the reflective surface of the glass gave a mirror image of the turquoise waters that lay a few metres away and showered the paved area in front of it with the reflected light and heat of the sun’s rays.
The well maintained vegetation dotted here and there amongst the channels of water that snaked their way through the paved space gave the whole locale a lush and welcoming atmosphere, a feeling that she was certain was not shared by the accused men and women that entered the courthouse to stand trial for their crimes against the people of Florida.
Grace knew that while Horatio perhaps hadn’t consciously headed to this spot, something in his brain had pushed him into a kind of autopilot, bringing him to a place that he associated with some degree of tranquillity. Whether it was because this was the place connected with happy memories of the moments he had shared with Marisol, or whether it was simply because this was the seat of justice within the boundaries of Miami she didn’t know. Whatever it was he had bought her here to talk through something that was clearly troubling him on a personal level rather than the case.
They were standing in the middle of the space when Grace saw the distant look fall away from Horatio’s face and he regained full awareness of his surroundings. She was not surprised to find a look of astonishment creeping over his visage and a little confusion as he tried to play back the previous ten minutes in his brain to work out exactly how he had got there. Then he apparently seemed to remember that she was supposed to be with him and he turned, desperately searching her out amongst the faces of the few people that wandered between them. His expression spoke of insurmountable relief when he found her still near him.
“Gracie…I…” He paused, trying to sort out the jumble of words that had flown into his head all at once. “Gracie, I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through.”
She sighed, a little exasperated. “Horatio, we’ve been through this. You didn’t force me into anything, I went willingly and with a full and cogent understanding of the risks involved.”
“I don’t just mean everything up until the shooting, I mean everything since then as well. You have to know that I love you more than anything else in the world. You have to believe that Gracie.”
She was getting annoyed now, she had never expected Horatio to do this, to try and rationalise his actions to provide himself with some way of lessening the guilt. “No. How can I believe that Horatio? You say you love me, but you won’t let me love you back, you just push me away. That’s not normal behaviour for someone in love.” Her eyes narrowed in frustration and she fell silent for a second before continuing. “You know, sometimes you can be incredibly infuriating.”
“So I’m told.” A light smile came to his face as he answered her, thinking back to the moment when his ballistics expert had told him the same thing. “Grace, forgive me?”
“Is this the part where you say that even though we can’t be together we can still be friends?” She rolled her eyes surprised at the venom she felt towards him at this moment.
“No, I don’t want us to be friends.”
“What?” She stared at him with mouth open, the shock resonating through her body. “Do you somehow think that you haven’t made me suffer enough already? Is this little talk,” she made little inverted comma gestures with her fingers as she said the word ‘talk’, “just a way of hurting me that little bit more. You know I never figured you for such a selfish…”
“Woah.” Horatio cut her tirade short and cursed himself for his stupid way of phrasing things. “What I mean is, I don’t want us to be just friends.” He corrected himself quickly. “The last few days have been indescribably lonely. It’s like someone took away a part of who I am and left pain in its place. I…I realise that I was underestimating you when I said you didn’t know what trouble you were facing. I felt so useless because I thought I’d failed to protect you that I forgot that you’ve been protecting yourself all your life. Forgive me Grace. Please. Give me a second chance?”
He was fiddling with the arms of his sunglasses, twirling them in his hands in that typical nervous reaction that she’d come to know over the past year. For a moment or two she didn’t answer, remaining silent. Eventually her silence forced him to look up at her and as she looked deep into his eyes she saw the truth of his words shining out like a beacon. That was the thing about Horatio, no matter what he said you could tell the truth just by looking into his eyes. She had figured out long ago that this was the reason that Horatio always had his sunglasses with him, as a way of hiding that truth. All the pain, all the venom she had felt in the past few minutes, heck everything that she’d felt over the past few days; every single negative thought was gone in that instant. But was she ready to risk having her heart broken again? Grace turned and walked a few steps away, giving her a chance to think.

Finally she turned back and whispered. “In a heartbeat.”
Joy; pure, undiluted joy washed over him as she smiled. “Thank-you,” he whispered.
“I’ve just got one question for you.”
“Shoot.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Uh…sorry, bad choice of words…go ahead and ask.”
“What made you change your mind…about us?”
“Oh, someone slapped me around the head and made me see sense.”
She studied him closely, seeing the blush start at his neck and move up to his face. “Let me guess, Calleigh, right?”
“Yep.” They both laughed.

He stepped forward suddenly, gathering her into his arms and he kissed her.
“Marry me.”
“Now that’s something I’ll have to think about I’m afraid.” Her face was stern, but soon broke into a smile when she saw the worried look on Horatio’s face. “I’m just teasing, of course I’ll still marry you. I love you Horatio Caine, I have always loved you and I will always love you. I can’t help myself.”
“That is very good to hear.” He let out a breath that he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in a sigh of relief, his amazement at the woman in his arms never diminished and the fact that she could forgive so easily was a revelation that made his heart soar. Keeping one hand firmly holding hers he pushed the other hand into the pocket inside his jacket and withdrew the engagement ring that had been kept there ever since she had sent it back to him via the courier. Softly he found her left hand and slipped the ring onto her finger, back where it belonged.
She flexed her fingers, appreciating the feeling of the gentle weight of the ring on her finger. “C’mon Romeo, let’s go home.” Her face broke into a wide grin as she started to move away but Horatio hung back, holding on to her wrist, impeding her progress. “Horatio? What’s wrong?”
“When I said marry me, I meant marry me now.” He smiled an impish grin.
“Wha…what?”
“I meant marry me now, today, right here.”
“Horatio, be serious, I’m wearing jogging bottoms and a t-shirt, I have no make-up on and I look like death that’s been stuck in a microwave and not quite warmed up enough, defrosted maybe, but not warmed up. Now heaven knows I’m not the vainest person in the world, but I always envisioned entering wedded bliss in a slightly more dignified manner.”
“Gracie, I would marry you if you sprouted two extra heads and tentacles. But I had a feeling you might say something like that,” he leant down and whispered in her ear, “so that’s where they come in.” He pointed behind her and she turned to find Calleigh, Alexx and Natalia standing a few metres behind her. They waved a little nervously until they saw the look of shock on Grace’s face soften and morph into a wide smile. And suddenly she realised that the courthouse hadn’t been such an unplanned destination after all.

Calleigh stepped forward. “We were allowed to take Horatio’s credit card for a day-trip to the shops.” She held the credit card between her forefinger and thumb and waggled it in the air.
“Yes, and I think I’d better be taking it back, before you do any more damage to my bank account.” Horatio chuckled as he took the card from her.
“We figured you were about the same size as Natalia so we picked you out a few things to wear.”
Grace turned her head towards Horatio. “You scared I might change my mind or something Horatio?”
“A little,” he admitted with an embarrassed smile. “So what about it? Will you marry me, today?” Horatio stepped up behind her, taking her hand in his and turning her to face him fully once more.
“Do you even need to ask?”
“Just to clarify.”
“Yes. Of course I will.” She turned, tilting her head up to kiss him, but Alexx intervened.
“Oh no you don’t, you two are breaking about a hundred different traditions just by looking at each other before you get hitched.”
“Well Alexx, seeing as how we’ve broken so many traditions already I don’t see how one more is going to make any difference.” He leaned his head down and placed a soft kiss on Grace’s lips. “Besides, ours hasn’t exactly been your typical, run of the mill courtship has it?”
“Huh. Well that’s enough of that. C’mon sugar, we’ve gotta get you ready.” Alexx huffed before dragging Grace out of Horatio’s grip with a firm hand that overrode even Grace’s strong desire to stay and further explore Horatio’s lips.


___________________________
Hang on, final chapter coming up...