Author: Sam

Story: Speed Trap: 9 of 23

Series: Speed-Burn

Setting: Early January, 2005. Miami.

Note: Okay, yeah, like the show, I’m leaving you hanging a bit while I go back to the Miami storylines. After all, this is a Miami-NYC story, not just NYC… or I’ve got it in the wrong area. As you may note, the date is the same as the NYC storyline for now, so it should be pretty easy to keep track of the timeline so far.

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.geocities.com/samwise_baggins/index.html

Rick Stetler, IAB investigator, strode purposefully through the spacious, well-lit lobby of the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. Some investigations went fairly quickly: he got a case, asked a bunch of questions, and came up with the solution, often involving disciplining the erring officer. This case, however, had been dragging on for four months, and it was beginning to make him look bad back at headquarters.

It was more than the drawn-out length of the investigation that had Stetler ready to spit nails; it was the fact that he had to work in this particular building, with that particular man. Horatio Caine was always so condescendingly in control. It really rankled the normally friendly intelligence man. And it wasn’t right that a man could pull favors to get a higher ranking job than an honest, hard-working detective. He really hated how Lieutenant Caine kept coming out smelling like daisies, and Rick, himself, kept looking like the rear end of a horse.

With a curt nod for the extremely petite ballistics expert, Calleigh Duquesne, whom he encountered in the elevator, Rick glanced at the rising numbers and held himself erect. He could feel the false-cheerfulness oozing from the pretty blonde, but he pretended it didn’t exist. Most people hated him specifically because he was IAB; Caine’s team probably had a whole host of other reasons to hate him, not the least was Caine accusing him of turning his investigations into something personal against his hand-picked team.

Well, this time he had proof. Finally, he could take down the jumped-up redhead in charge of the lab he, Rick, should have been running. Maybe the clever talking man had gotten his team out of that drug running charge, but there was no way he could do it again. Stetler held the evidence in his hands that Caine had been harboring a dirty cop… and had probably known it the entire time, too.

Upon stepping out of the elevator on the level of the steps to Caine’s office… temporary office, Stetler relished… he found himself still in stride with Duquesne. Is she running to keep up? The woman couldn’t be more than five, three, while he was maybe a foot taller; still, he had to admit, her long strides and confident air made her seem just as at ease as if she were going for a slow stroll in a sunny park. Did the woman have to be so annoying?

The pair climbed the stairs together, to Stetler’s annoyance, then made it to Horatio Caine’s door simultaneously. With a glare, Stetler turned to the small woman. “Was there something you needed, Detective?”

She sent him her mega-watt, over-bright smile and he seethed at the hypocrisy. He knew she despised him; how dare she pretend that he was the most welcome individual on earth. “With Horatio. Can you wait five minutes?”

Rick’s mouth tightened in a grimace.

In a totally good mood, feeling nice even towards Rick Stetler, who’d been skulking around for the past four months, dropping hints that he thought they were covering something up, Calleigh couldn’t help the cheerful smile she shot at the frowning man. Her report should have made him go away, but apparently it only caused the man to dig deeper into the backgrounds of the entire staff. Ryan Wolfe, their newest investigator, was getting paranoid. However, Calleigh was in too good a mood to even let Stetler bother her. She smiled brightly as he turned and asked if she needed something, to which she honestly replied, “With Horatio.” Then, for good measure, she added, “Can you wait five minutes?”

It had been a perfectly reasonable request; after all, she was working a double homicide. The scowl on the man’s face, though, made it seem as if she’d told him to go take a long walk off a short pier. Okay, her mood was starting to slip.

He didn’t get to answer her, and she didn’t get to press him, because Horatio’s door swung open.

The tall redhead looked tired; who wouldn’t be after acquiring a healthy, inquisitive nine-year-old? His blue eyes were merry, though, and he nodded pleasantly to the both of them. “News, Calleigh?”

Wanting to crow at the fact that she’d gotten to go first, and the consequential dark scowl Stetler threw Horatio’s way, the petite Louisianan nodded enthusiastically. “You’ll never believe what I just found, H.” She gave a dramatic pause then said, “The smoking gun.”

Horatio cocked his head, giving a small smile, and responded, “You found the murder weapon.”

With a laugh, Calleigh corrected cheerfully, “Not just that, but it was literally smoking. The perp though he could change the rifling by setting a fire inside the barrel.” She loved how stupid some criminals were. “A neighbor saw it in a dumpster, thought it was fishy, and reported it. It matches the casings found near both our victims.”

Her supervisor, and friend, got the joke and his smile widened. “Okay. Let me know when you’ve finished processing it.” Horatio turned his head to beam at her then turned back towards his office. “Will you come in, Detective?”

Calleigh smiled, agreeing happily, and headed down the stairs and back towards ballistics. Actually, she could have waited to report on her find, but had been so eager to share the joke that she’d went up before processing. She was glad she had, too; Stetler had a habit of making Horatio’s mood even darker these days.

As the door shut behind his unwelcome visitor, Horatio moved to place the desk between them. It was a psychological trick, actually, imposing the sense of being the one in control of the meeting, as if he were the boss and Stetler the employee. Normally, he would have at least tried to be more pleasant, but he disliked the man intensely, especially as he was trying to drag his team through the mud yet again.

Recently, the IAB officer had tried to find something wrong with the new investigator, Wolfe. Stetler had followed Ryan around like a puppy, watching intently and scratching down notes at the oddest times. It had really gotten on the former patrolman’s nerves, and he’d finally broken down and complained to Horatio that he was having trouble doing his job with Stetler in the way. Horatio had demanded that Rick leave his people alone in the field, and the man had grudgingly obeyed.

Now he appeared to be up to some new trick.

Turning, Horatio faced the glass wall, looking over the lab. He cocked his head towards Stetler and, in an almost friendly tone, softly asked, “What can I do for you?”

The darker man slapped a thick file down on the surface of Horatio’s desk, a wide grin nearly splitting his face. There was almost a predatory glint in the man’s eyes, and Horatio couldn’t help thinking what a shame it had been to loose him from the lab when Megan left and he, himself, had been promoted in her place. The man had been very good at getting confessions that were backed by the evidence.

“And this is?” Horatio’s voice remained calm. He didn’t reach for the file, allowing Rick his moment of apparent triumph. It seemed he thought he had found something on the lab, or one of its staff, and Horatio wanted the man to talk. If Stetler was excited, he might give things away he normally would have hidden.

Like the older detective had hoped, Stetler didn’t balk at sharing this time. He pushed the file towards Horatio and leaned forward. “Speedle was a dirty cop.”

It was like a slap to the face, and before Horatio had even gotten to reach for the file he felt himself stagger as if physically struck. Anger boiled up and it took a precious few minutes for the redhead to draw a cloak of calm around his self. Despite popular myth, Horatio rarely lost his temper, and he didn’t plan to do so for Stetler’s enjoyment. The tone of Horatio’s voice would have been a warning to all who knew him well, but it only caused the other investigator to frown for a moment before smiling in a more triumphant manner.

“You had better have evidence of that, Stetler.”

Horatio reached over and picked up the heavy file. He noticed the cover said “Speedle, T. J.” Glancing up from the file to Stetler, then back down, he finally opened it. What he read threatened to send his anger right back through the roof. “Where did you get this?”

“Sounds like you already knew about it, Caine. Were you helping him? Was your brother?”

Head snapping up, blue eyes flashing fire, Horatio slapped the file shut and slammed it on the desk. He leaned forward over the desk so far, he could feel the other man’s suddenly hitched breath on his face. “What… did… you… say?” The ice cold venom in his voice finally checked the IAB man, and Stetler faltered, looking off balance.

Finally, he started to talk.