Post by jaglady on Jan 21, 2009 13:02:05 GMT -5
Rating: PG
Genre: Mystery/Drama
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI Miami, its characters, or any of its intellectual properties.
This is the second in my Emmie Stockburne/Wolfe series.
Flooding rains plague Florida. A meteorologist dies in a mysterious car crash. Meanwhile, Horatio and Emmie Stockburne are in another crash in the secluded Florida swampland. Horatio is unconscious, and Emmie must fight to keep them both alive.
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Chapter 1—Blood Red Sky
Angela Miller watched the waves of rain flutter over the picture window while she draped the black raincoat over her husband’s shoulders. He fussed with his cell phone as he poked each arm into the sleeves. “Thanks, hon.”
The petite, blonde-haired woman stared blankly at the storm that had plagued Miami for several days now. “I swear. I’m looking for an ark to go floating by” she moaned, shaking her head. She flinched when lightning flickered through the palm trees and thunder cracked again. “And this isn’t letting up anytime soon, is it, Mr. Weatherman?”
Eric Miller shrugged with a tired smile. “I just checked the Doppler on line. We might get a break in another hour, but that’s it.”
His wife smirked. “We’ve already got a swimming pool in our yard now. You’re the weather man. Can’t you make it go away?”
“Wish I could. I get tired of this too. The man stiffened up when his phone chirped. He glanced at it and then flipped it open. “This is Eric. Hi. Yeah, I got the message. On my way in now for the five o’clock coverage. Gonna be a slow go because some of the roads are flooding. Yeah, just, just tell Melissa to hang tight. I know she’s tired. Yeah, I--. I know, Larry.” He dipped his head and put up his hand, his raincoat rustling with his every move. “Yeah. Been following the storm at home.” He nodded his head now. “Look, we’ll talk more when I get in, okay? For God’s sake, Larry. The longer I stand here and talk to you, the later I’m gonna be. I’ll see you when I get there!” Without another word he popped his cell phone shut and sighed deeply. “Sorry, honey, but with the flash flood warnings, we’re looking at a late night. Be okay by yourself?”
She shrugged just as tiredly. “I’ll be okay. Smokey’s here to protect me.” She nodded at the lazy old Wimaraner that cocked its head curiously and then settled back down to sleep.
Eric Miller donned his brown rain hat and turned up his collar. He then gave his wife a gentle kiss. “Well, don’t wait up for me, honey. I’ll call you before I leave. And I’ll put everything back in your car when I get home.”
Angela Miller’s face suddenly became urgent. “Don’t worry about it, honey. Just be careful.”
Eric Miller backed out of the driveway in his wife’s white Chevy Lumina as the sheets of rain pounded loudly and threateningly on the roof. The wind was picking up again as the wipers screeched across the windshield. Though it was still afternoon, the dark, thick clouds darkened the sky enough to look like early evening. He glanced up momentarily at the sky that floated from west to east, blocking out the Florida sunshine, seeming to hold the world at its mercy. For at least three days now a system plumed from west to east over South Florida, having dumped almost six inches of rain on Miami by now.
He gently placed his brown rain hat on the seat next to him as his blue eyes scanned the wet two-lane road. Without thinking he picked his foot up from the accelerator to let the car gently glide through standing water, engaging it again when he was safely on the other side. As he slowed down for the wet traffic light, he did notice that the brake seemed a little soft. Had to have been the moisture, he thought. Everything felt strange in Angela’s car. But with his own car in the shop, this would have to do, he thought.
When the light changed, he let his foot off the brake and continued on through the driving rain.
Eric eased his foot off the accelerator as the two-lane road curved suddenly. He had taken this curve hundreds of times, so he thought nothing of it as he tapped the brake gently.
His foot went completely to the floor as the car kept moving forward.
Panic set in now. The weatherman stiffened up and gripped the wheel with both hands as he stomped the brake pedal several times. Nothing happened. Reflexively he swung the steering wheel as his heart quaked, trying desperately to stay within the deep curve. The car’s tires squealed in protest as he found himself pinned against the driver’s side door.
Before he could react, a brown river of water jumped into his headlights. Within seconds his whole world spun and tumbled as the Lumina flew off the road and slammed sideways against the tree trunk with a deafening crash.
As the wrecked car stood still, Eric Miller convulsed in the shock of the cold rain that doused him now, washing the broken glass down to his feet in the dark. The car’s horn screamed as though trying to tell the world about its owner’s pain and fear. Thunder crashed again, lighting up the darkness, but he didn't respond.
Within seconds he bowed his head. Blood ran from his mouth as he closed his eyes one last time.
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Ryan Wolfe and Eric Delko waded carefully through the mud under the spotlights, sweeping the wet, torn sawgrass with their flashlights.
The crumpled, muddy Lumina had been pulled back from the tree that now leaned sideways from the impact. Lakes of broken glass now littered the inside. Scattered papers, water and mud had pooled by Eric Miller’s feet. One of his shoes had flown off in the impact and rested near the accelerator. The wrecked car itself was dark except for the distant spotlights.
“Glad this rain finally let up” Eric said tiredly, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the wreck. “Starting to think I might need my diving gear for this. Hope the flooding didn’t wash away too much of our crime scene.”
Ryan smirked. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Looks like we’re gonna be sifting through the mud for this one. And with everybody else in Clearwater right now. Gonna have to see if we can get one of the techs to help out.”
Frank Tripp trudged through the mud, his face flickering in the flashing police car lights. He pointed behind him with his thumb.
“Passing motorist called in. Guy's name is Eric Miller. He's theChief Meteorologist with WTVM here in Miami. Officers are on their way to talk to his family. I called the station. They said he was on his way to work. Said he’s on overtime because of the flooding.”
Eric Delko furrowed his eyebrows. “Eric Miller? Yeah. Seen him on TV.” He now shook his head in disbelief. “Wow.”
Frank nodded. “Looks like he just ran off the road. Nobody else was around. Spoke with some of the other officers here. Doesn’t look like he was trying to avoid anything. Had all his ID on him.” Frank now stood with his hands on his hips and looked up at the sky. “I’m gonna get on the phone to Clearwater and let Horatio know about this one. Could turn out to be a high-profile case.” With that he stepped carefully away.
Ryan grunted and rubbed his face tiredly.
“What’s the matter, Wolfe? Don’t like pulling all this overtime?”
He sighed deeply. “I’ll be glad when that thing’s over in Clearwater and we’re back on full staff.”
Delko gave him a knowing grin. “You just want to see Emmie again, don’t you?”
The younger CSI glanced at him and then turned his attention back to the muddy crime scene.
“You really ought to tell her how you feel about her” Delko insisted, never looking at him.
“Sort of like you and Calleigh?” he shot back.
Delko now stood behind Alexx, who braced herself carefully in the mud as she studied the slumped-over weather forecaster.
“Yeah, that’s Eric Miller all right. Find anything, Alexx?”
The M.E. turned toward him carefully so as not to lose her footing in the mud. “Well, there's little doubt in my mind that the crash killed our weather forecaster.” With her gloved hands she gently tipped his wet, bloody head upward and made a semicircular motion around the red wound in his black hair. “Looks like his head hit the dash at the same time his neck broke. On top of that, he broke just about every rib. I should probably say what didn’t he break? He hit that steering wheel pretty hard.” She looked at the red mask on his sleeping face. “I just wonder what happened to your airbags, Sweetie. They might have saved your life.”
Ryan now stepped behind Alexx, who continued to probe her newest post. “Pretty strange. Looks like he had airbags, but they just didn’t deploy.”
Delko now stepped back out onto the dark road, shining his flashlight along the pavement. “No skid marks anywhere. Wait a second.” His flashlight wandered up and down now. “Sideways. Guy must’ve hydroplaned off the road. But he didn’t hit the brakes.”
Ryan nodded as his flashlight followed the brown mud trail. “He flipped over and landed right here. Probably gonna have to tow this thing back to the lab to see what happened.”
Carefully Delko followed the tire marks. He shook his head. “Sorry Wolfe, but we’re gonna have to work on this one before the rain starts up again.”
The younger CSI sighed. “Why? What did you find?”
“New car? No airbags? No brakes? Not sure this was an accident.”
Genre: Mystery/Drama
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI Miami, its characters, or any of its intellectual properties.
This is the second in my Emmie Stockburne/Wolfe series.
Flooding rains plague Florida. A meteorologist dies in a mysterious car crash. Meanwhile, Horatio and Emmie Stockburne are in another crash in the secluded Florida swampland. Horatio is unconscious, and Emmie must fight to keep them both alive.
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Chapter 1—Blood Red Sky
Angela Miller watched the waves of rain flutter over the picture window while she draped the black raincoat over her husband’s shoulders. He fussed with his cell phone as he poked each arm into the sleeves. “Thanks, hon.”
The petite, blonde-haired woman stared blankly at the storm that had plagued Miami for several days now. “I swear. I’m looking for an ark to go floating by” she moaned, shaking her head. She flinched when lightning flickered through the palm trees and thunder cracked again. “And this isn’t letting up anytime soon, is it, Mr. Weatherman?”
Eric Miller shrugged with a tired smile. “I just checked the Doppler on line. We might get a break in another hour, but that’s it.”
His wife smirked. “We’ve already got a swimming pool in our yard now. You’re the weather man. Can’t you make it go away?”
“Wish I could. I get tired of this too. The man stiffened up when his phone chirped. He glanced at it and then flipped it open. “This is Eric. Hi. Yeah, I got the message. On my way in now for the five o’clock coverage. Gonna be a slow go because some of the roads are flooding. Yeah, just, just tell Melissa to hang tight. I know she’s tired. Yeah, I--. I know, Larry.” He dipped his head and put up his hand, his raincoat rustling with his every move. “Yeah. Been following the storm at home.” He nodded his head now. “Look, we’ll talk more when I get in, okay? For God’s sake, Larry. The longer I stand here and talk to you, the later I’m gonna be. I’ll see you when I get there!” Without another word he popped his cell phone shut and sighed deeply. “Sorry, honey, but with the flash flood warnings, we’re looking at a late night. Be okay by yourself?”
She shrugged just as tiredly. “I’ll be okay. Smokey’s here to protect me.” She nodded at the lazy old Wimaraner that cocked its head curiously and then settled back down to sleep.
Eric Miller donned his brown rain hat and turned up his collar. He then gave his wife a gentle kiss. “Well, don’t wait up for me, honey. I’ll call you before I leave. And I’ll put everything back in your car when I get home.”
Angela Miller’s face suddenly became urgent. “Don’t worry about it, honey. Just be careful.”
Eric Miller backed out of the driveway in his wife’s white Chevy Lumina as the sheets of rain pounded loudly and threateningly on the roof. The wind was picking up again as the wipers screeched across the windshield. Though it was still afternoon, the dark, thick clouds darkened the sky enough to look like early evening. He glanced up momentarily at the sky that floated from west to east, blocking out the Florida sunshine, seeming to hold the world at its mercy. For at least three days now a system plumed from west to east over South Florida, having dumped almost six inches of rain on Miami by now.
He gently placed his brown rain hat on the seat next to him as his blue eyes scanned the wet two-lane road. Without thinking he picked his foot up from the accelerator to let the car gently glide through standing water, engaging it again when he was safely on the other side. As he slowed down for the wet traffic light, he did notice that the brake seemed a little soft. Had to have been the moisture, he thought. Everything felt strange in Angela’s car. But with his own car in the shop, this would have to do, he thought.
When the light changed, he let his foot off the brake and continued on through the driving rain.
Eric eased his foot off the accelerator as the two-lane road curved suddenly. He had taken this curve hundreds of times, so he thought nothing of it as he tapped the brake gently.
His foot went completely to the floor as the car kept moving forward.
Panic set in now. The weatherman stiffened up and gripped the wheel with both hands as he stomped the brake pedal several times. Nothing happened. Reflexively he swung the steering wheel as his heart quaked, trying desperately to stay within the deep curve. The car’s tires squealed in protest as he found himself pinned against the driver’s side door.
Before he could react, a brown river of water jumped into his headlights. Within seconds his whole world spun and tumbled as the Lumina flew off the road and slammed sideways against the tree trunk with a deafening crash.
As the wrecked car stood still, Eric Miller convulsed in the shock of the cold rain that doused him now, washing the broken glass down to his feet in the dark. The car’s horn screamed as though trying to tell the world about its owner’s pain and fear. Thunder crashed again, lighting up the darkness, but he didn't respond.
Within seconds he bowed his head. Blood ran from his mouth as he closed his eyes one last time.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Ryan Wolfe and Eric Delko waded carefully through the mud under the spotlights, sweeping the wet, torn sawgrass with their flashlights.
The crumpled, muddy Lumina had been pulled back from the tree that now leaned sideways from the impact. Lakes of broken glass now littered the inside. Scattered papers, water and mud had pooled by Eric Miller’s feet. One of his shoes had flown off in the impact and rested near the accelerator. The wrecked car itself was dark except for the distant spotlights.
“Glad this rain finally let up” Eric said tiredly, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the wreck. “Starting to think I might need my diving gear for this. Hope the flooding didn’t wash away too much of our crime scene.”
Ryan smirked. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Looks like we’re gonna be sifting through the mud for this one. And with everybody else in Clearwater right now. Gonna have to see if we can get one of the techs to help out.”
Frank Tripp trudged through the mud, his face flickering in the flashing police car lights. He pointed behind him with his thumb.
“Passing motorist called in. Guy's name is Eric Miller. He's theChief Meteorologist with WTVM here in Miami. Officers are on their way to talk to his family. I called the station. They said he was on his way to work. Said he’s on overtime because of the flooding.”
Eric Delko furrowed his eyebrows. “Eric Miller? Yeah. Seen him on TV.” He now shook his head in disbelief. “Wow.”
Frank nodded. “Looks like he just ran off the road. Nobody else was around. Spoke with some of the other officers here. Doesn’t look like he was trying to avoid anything. Had all his ID on him.” Frank now stood with his hands on his hips and looked up at the sky. “I’m gonna get on the phone to Clearwater and let Horatio know about this one. Could turn out to be a high-profile case.” With that he stepped carefully away.
Ryan grunted and rubbed his face tiredly.
“What’s the matter, Wolfe? Don’t like pulling all this overtime?”
He sighed deeply. “I’ll be glad when that thing’s over in Clearwater and we’re back on full staff.”
Delko gave him a knowing grin. “You just want to see Emmie again, don’t you?”
The younger CSI glanced at him and then turned his attention back to the muddy crime scene.
“You really ought to tell her how you feel about her” Delko insisted, never looking at him.
“Sort of like you and Calleigh?” he shot back.
Delko now stood behind Alexx, who braced herself carefully in the mud as she studied the slumped-over weather forecaster.
“Yeah, that’s Eric Miller all right. Find anything, Alexx?”
The M.E. turned toward him carefully so as not to lose her footing in the mud. “Well, there's little doubt in my mind that the crash killed our weather forecaster.” With her gloved hands she gently tipped his wet, bloody head upward and made a semicircular motion around the red wound in his black hair. “Looks like his head hit the dash at the same time his neck broke. On top of that, he broke just about every rib. I should probably say what didn’t he break? He hit that steering wheel pretty hard.” She looked at the red mask on his sleeping face. “I just wonder what happened to your airbags, Sweetie. They might have saved your life.”
Ryan now stepped behind Alexx, who continued to probe her newest post. “Pretty strange. Looks like he had airbags, but they just didn’t deploy.”
Delko now stepped back out onto the dark road, shining his flashlight along the pavement. “No skid marks anywhere. Wait a second.” His flashlight wandered up and down now. “Sideways. Guy must’ve hydroplaned off the road. But he didn’t hit the brakes.”
Ryan nodded as his flashlight followed the brown mud trail. “He flipped over and landed right here. Probably gonna have to tow this thing back to the lab to see what happened.”
Carefully Delko followed the tire marks. He shook his head. “Sorry Wolfe, but we’re gonna have to work on this one before the rain starts up again.”
The younger CSI sighed. “Why? What did you find?”
“New car? No airbags? No brakes? Not sure this was an accident.”