stunt_muppet

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It’s Horatio’s last day at work today. After that he’s on leave.

Technically, it’s paid vacation – all those saved-up sick days came in handy – but you can’t really call it vacation when he’s taking time off to mourn his murdered wife.

She’s heard the explanation he gave the higher-ups. There are still arrangements that need to be made; coping with the loss has been more difficult than he thought; he only came back when he did because he wanted to be there for the Noche bust. They didn’t object; how could they? So they gave him the time off he needed, provided that he didn’t ask for more after that.

And tomorrow that time off begins, and he’ll head off to Brazil – everyone in the lab knows that, though the supervisors don’t. And in spite of everything he says to the contrary he’s well aware of what he’s going there to do.

So is Alexx.

He’s never told her, but she knows. The shadow that fell over him when Marisol died has sharpened, hardened from grief and sorrow to grim determination and murderous hate. It’s only a shadow, true; never once has he let it overtake him. But it’s visible nonetheless, visible enough to tell her that he’s leaving not to bring a man to justice but to kill him.

She’s tried all week to think of a way to tell him not to do it. There was a time when his secret would have been safe here, but it isn’t anymore. Someone will find out about it eventually, and then they can all kiss their lives goodbye.  And no matter how much the victim deserved it, murder’s still murder – he’s said that himself, to who knows how many killers with revenge on their minds. Has he forgotten?

But she’d kept her mouth shut. If it had been your husband, your children, she’d reasoned, would anybody be able to change your mind?

Even if it had been her husband and her children, she isn’t sure she’d be doing this.

If someone took away the people she loved, of course she’d want them dead. But it’s one thing to wish death on someone else, quite another to put the bullet in their brain yourself.

That takes something she doesn’t want to possess.

She finally finds him just before he leaves for the day, and says his name once to get his attention. He turns to face her; there is no expression on his face.

She wants to say stop, don’t do this, stay here, but for once she cannot speak her mind. That sharp and heavy shadow has settled in again; there’s nothing she can do or say that can reach him now.

So she simply says, “Be careful.”

He doesn’t look surprised that she knows. He only nods, says “I will,” and heads out the door.

She wonders if the shadow will ever lift.

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