Paul Milander is here! He is my oh-so-favorite bad guy. He was perfect, even stumped Grissom! I'm making him change his M.O. though. I can't have him kill Speed ( Yet ) especially not in a bathtub!
Oh well, give Paulie a good welcome because he is going to be one creepy guy the WHOLE time.
888888888888 Horatio's POV
Light brown eyes lay downcast, staring intently to the knocked over table in Speedle's apartment. People were talking, but the eyes never moved, never stopped. One place, one time, one spot, no moving, just table. I couldn't help but stare at him, stare at the table; like a never ending painting. We were all devastated by the news that Tim was missing. Of course I was suspicious when he hadn't shown up for work, but I never expected to see his home messed up and the door hanging open despite it's obvious emptiness. Eric seemed worse off though. The young man wasn't moving, deep in thought. I sighed, and started to turn, but then Eric talked.
"There are signs of a struggle, but I don't think there was one." I looked at him for an explanation. His eyes were still staring. "Most of the signs of a true struggle aren't here, just a bunch of random knocked over items. The clock is broken, why would that happen? It doesn't make any sense."
Eric was right.
"Whoever did this broke into Speed's home with only the intent of kidnapping. He wanted to be found out, that's why he left the door open and broke all these things."
"He's sick. Why would he want to be found?" I couldn't answer that.
"As of yet, we have no witnesses." I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose feeling a headache coming on. I was worried, really worried.
Calleigh walked in, her face grim.
"There's nothing. I searched and I searched but I came up empty handed." She looked at Eric who was still looking at the table and then she looked to me. "I don't know what else to do."
"Yeah, I know, for a person that wants to be found, they sure are making it difficult."
88888888888888 SPEEDS POV AGAIN!
"Make a run for it!" Damn that little voice in my head, it was going to get me killed. It had been maybe 2-3 hours since I awoke in a small room, maybe a basement. The walls were moldy and wet and a window was no where in sight. I probably wouldn't have been able to see if not for the tiny light bulb hanging precariously from the ceiling.
A door was at the top of some rickety stairs but I found out long ago that it had been locked, double locked, maybe even triple. Far off from my normal strength I wasn't able to knock it down.
"Hell, I wouldn't be able to knock it down even if I wasn't so tired." Memory still a blur, I wasn't sure how I got here, so here's location was beyond me. One thing was for sure, I was the only person in the room. Talking to myself was becoming the thing to keep me occupied, or rather sane.
Again, my eyes wandered around the room and my mind took a trip back to the kiss with Eric. It was fun to think about something to brighten up my mood. I wasn't too scared; the fear wore off after the first hour. More time past and I began to dose off. Maybe a little sleep wouldn't hurt. After all, the person who took me hasn't killed me yet. I still felt sick from before, though not as bad.
"Maybe I am getting better. That'll be good, I nee-." I was cut off by the normally unmoving basement door's creak of life and the fear that had once diminished sprung back with vengeance. My heart was pounding so hard that it made me feel light-headed.
Despite my obvious discomfort, I leapt up, ready to face the oncoming danger. Gun, phone, and even my pager gone, there wasn't much to defend myself with.
"Now, now, calm yourself detective Speedle, we wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." I was actually expecting to see a familiar face but was surprised to see a new one. I had figured it would be someone I put in jail, someone with a grudge, but the person in front of me was different. Burn marks were on the side of his face, well, at least I think they're burn marks, and for a man committing a huge crime, he sounded calm; eerily calm.
"Who are you?" I unconsciously backed up against the grimy wall.
"Why you know me. Well, not from before. More like from the news, pictures, and the "unsolved files" of Las Vegas." He chuckled and took a few steps forward.
"I don't know you." I stuttered, definitely not meaning to.
"My name is Paul Milander." A large mischievous smile spread wide across his face.
"Am I supposed to know you" I winced; that was stupid. Milander's smile quickly faded and before I knew it the space between us was cleared and a fist collided fiercely with my face. Slamming further into the wall I slid down holding the left side of my face.
"Don't worry, Tim, you'll know me soon enough. I'm not only going to hurt you yet but I will certainly make sure to hurt everyone you care about. I've been watching you, I know your secrets." Oh uh, that smile was back; it made me shiver violently. Or maybe it was the cold. I coughed.
"Aww, still sick." It wasn't a question.
"You did this!" He looked away for a moment and I felt my hands shaking.
"Just you wait; I'll make sure you can keep a good eye out on your friends. Oh! I have an idea! Why don't you choose who is first."
"What?" I spat and struggled to stand. Milander said nothing but left. Finally able to stand, I started to the door but before I got there, he was back; a small basket in his hands. He shook it around and held it out. Small pieces of paper littered it, I couldn't count.
"Pick one." I looked at him, disgusted. "Pick one or I'll kill them all!" He exploded at me, face red with anger. I reached in quickly, fearing whose name was going to be written. I was condemning someone. 'Better one then all' the voice in my head still didn't make me feel better.
His name was written nicely, perfect cursive; red. Just like the blood that dripped from my lip as I bit down as hard as possible. Tears filled my eyes but I refused to let them fall.
"You bastard!" I ran at him, throwing my fists like cinder blocks. I didn't care about how much it hurt my hands every time they slammed painfully into Milander's face. I kept going until a shock ran up and down my body, numbing my extremities and clearing my vision.
"I'm taking you off this case, all of you. Another team is going to be assigned it." I was ready for Eric's protest; I was surprised when Calleigh got there first.
"No way Horatio, we should be on this case." Her voice was final and I knew if I said fine then this was going to turn out bad. She knew I felt the same and she was exploiting it. I wanted to be on this case too.
"We have to find him." I turned to Calleigh. "Let's get him back." I was going to be in trouble for this. Looking to Erik, I sighed. He was sitting there, staring downwards. I wanted to talk to him but for once I was at a loss of words.
My phone rang, breaking the long silence and I answered immediately hoping it was good news about Tim.
"You're going to have to see this." It was Detective John Hagen.
"What is it?"
"I told you, you have to see it."
"Truck driver spotted it; thought it looked suspicious and called it in." I stared blankly at a sign, wooden, painted white, that said in big black letters "WHAT'S FIVE FOOT NINE AND ABOUT TO BE RED ALL OVER?" Under the sign lay Tim's cell phone, pager, and gun. My heart leapt into my throat. 'He's going to die.'
"That's strange though, Tim's not 5'9." Calleigh observed quietly behind me.
"I am." Eric added, walking up to us. I looked away from the sign and turned to him.
"Maybe Speed is 5'9." Calleigh said, panicking a little. Suddenly Tim's cell rang. I knelt down and picked it up. Before answering it, I looked to John, Calleigh, and Eric.
"Hello?" My voice shook, weakness showing. A man answered.
"In case you didn't figure out the answer, it starts with Eric and ends with Delko."
Sorry for the cliffy and the bad writing; also, I have no idea how tall anybody is, so I guess. Oh, one more thing, sorry for the shortness!
Please review! It encourages me. Tell me what's wrong, I appreciate it. Seriously, it helps a lot. Sorry!