We begin with one of the most awkward transitions in the history of this series: the sun rising over assorting sparkling seaside vistas, and then an abrupt cut to a darkened room, where a man is apparently attempting CPR on a woman. I say "attempting" because a) they're still standing up, and b) she's still respiring independently. Oh, wait. This is passionate kissing. As they awkwardly move across the room -- you try cramming your tongue in someone's mouth and then steering them around -- the buzzing sound of flies becomes louder. The woman pulls back and asks, "What's that noise?" "It's the waves crashing on the beach," the man replies. Well, we know why he's not thinking clearly enough to give a more plausible excuse. There's a few more minutes of free-form wrestling, and then the woman pulls back to ask coyly, "Since when do oceans hum?" He declines to answer. Technical foul, resulting in termination of play. She's all about playing Nancy Drew and trying to solve The Mystery Of The Buzzing Waves. The guy's clueless, and continues undressing. The woman, however, has other things on her mind. She stalks around the room, following the noise to its source under the bed. Then she lifts the cover and sees a dead woman covered in flies. Cue her screaming, while I wonder how these two didn't notice the smell of a dead-enough-to-attract-flies person. Did Captain Underpants dismiss that as "the smell of the ocean"? Did we miss that part of the conversation?
The woman drops the bedspread, and in a much more elegant transition, Horatio lifts it back up again. Unless he was there all along, hiding in a closet and waiting for crime to strike -- then it wouldn't be so elegant. Anyway, we get the sideways shot of David Caruso, and as he straightens up, a detective says, "A guy and his coworker found her this morning." Horatio muses that the room had to have been cleaned before the couple checked in, and the detective snorts, "Yeah, typical maid service -- scrub the surfaces." Horatio replies, "Scrubbed the surfaces but left a dead body under the bed." Well, yes. We learn that the person who booked and paid for the room happens to be the one lying naked and conveniently arranged under the bed slats so the tender sensibilities of censors won't be aroused. We also learn that she is one Susan McCreary, booked on a string of priors for prostitution, and she was probably not staying in the hotel to get away from it all. The detective glances down and comments, "Looks like she was working the street." Horatio corrects him: "Not anymore."