In a paradigm-shattering move, Horatio has left the skybox and is actually attending an autopsy in the same room where Alexx is conducting it. He's still standing ten feet from the gurney, but he's in the room, so that's progress. Alexx fills him in: the liver temp indicated that the girl died somewhere around 5 AM that morning, and her body is covered in insect bites. If we had Gil on the case, this would be the point where Gil began matching bug bite to specific insect, and lecturing anyone present on biological and metaphorical significance of each insect introduced. Here, I'm not so sure. Alexx continues as Horatio creeps ever closer -- the girl also sustained blunt force trauma to the right side of her head. Alexx concludes, "Blood loss could have led to endotoxic shock, but I'll have to do more testing." Horatio concludes that somebody hit the girl and dumped her. The bug bites -- and their significance therein -- go completely unremarked upon. Alexx points out that the cause of death is still uncertain and could therefore be accidental. Horatio decrees, "Teenage girl doesn't wind up by the side of the road dead and it'd be an accident. What about sexual assault?" Well, it's nice to see them address the fact that this girl was found in her skivvies, however indirectly. Alexx mentions that there was slight vaginal tearing around the opening. Then, with the saddest expression I've ever seen, she holds a diaphragm aloft. Alexx comments, "Fifteen years old and she was planning on having sex." How did they figure out she was fifteen? Horatio comments, "Well, someone was. Maybe someone who didn't get their way." I can appreciate how he's always looking for the sinister motive, blah dee blah, but inserting a diaphragm isn't exactly a random drive-by event. Unless there were roving gangs of contraceptive commandos running wild and forcibly inserting diaphragms or Norplant into unwilling girls, it's pretty safe to assume the girl inserted the diaphragm herself.
Just then, a bald labmonkey comes in to tell Alexx he's got the tox screen she wanted, but stops to gape and comment, "Cool room." Horatio curtly says, "Mmm-hmmm," then asks, "Ruben, have you seen Megan?" Ruben says, "She had court today." The Chords Of Convenience play as Horatio looks up and says, "I thought she had court yesterday." Ruben replies, "She stopped by, told me to give you this." He hands over an envelope. This is shaping up to be one of the most entertaining ex post facto departures I've ever seen, albeit in a totally accidental way. If you're going to have a highly-publicized departure, you should wring it for as much implausibility as possible. Have Horatio ask Ruben where Megan is, only to have the other man reply, "I thought you knew. She had your credit card when she was booking her flight to the Grand Caymans." Anyway, Horatio notes that the envelope reads "PERSONAL AND CONFIDENTIAL," which would seem to inspire all sorts of snooping among people who pry secrets out of others for a living, and listens to Ruben telling Alexx that the body's BAC was 0.0. Alexx is startled: "So she smelled of beer but didn't drink any? Okay, that's odd." This from the woman holding salons with the recently deceased. Ruben counters, "Not as odd as this -- her pro time's up to about 25 seconds." For those of you who wonder, as I do, what a "pro time" is, it's the nickname for "prothrombin time," or the time it takes for a plasma sample (it's blood plasma that contains all the clogging agents, not the RBCs) to form a firm clot after being treated with the coagulation inhibitor thromboplastin. Pro Time is also the trademarked name for a kit used to determine blood coagulation time, but given that we're simply talking about how long it took Jane Doe's blood to clot, I think the reference is just to the general blood-clot test, not to the brand-name kit.