Horatio wanders into another room and finds the bomb-making kit. Then he wanders back outside. Tripp reports on how everyone's searched the outbuildings and found no evidence of any girl, and at that moment, Horatio notices the empty doghouse. He asks, "Did Animal Control take that dog?" Tripp answers that there is no dog -- and thank God, because the one thing that makes me go completely, irrationally Bill-Bixby-to-Lou-Ferrigno furious is the idea and/or depiction of domestic animals being abused, and I wouldn't put it past this show to show some poor dog or cat being taunted by meth-heads -- and Horatio realizes that the doghouse actually tops a secret, girl-holding basement. In Florida. Which is essentially a floating piece of land. And yet, the girl's not treading water. Go figure.
Horatio asks who put the girl in there; she answers that if she tells, "he" will kill her. Horatio tells her, "I don't want you to worry about that right now. Who put you in there?" Tripp frog-marches Chaz to a patrol cruiser, and the look on his face -- as well as the girl's -- says it all. Horatio says derisively to Chaz, "Well, I guess I know all about you too, huh?" And while I know it's wrong to not reflexively hate a drugged-out killer who captures women for kicks, I have to hand it to Chaz: he's gotten under Horatio's skin, and it's fun to watch.
Once Horatio's settled at a picnic table with the young woman, we see her fidgeting and telling him that dying was nowhere near the worry not having meth was. Horatio shows a flair for applying new information quickly by asking, "How long you been a friend of Tina?" It's been a couple of years for her. She adds, "A couple hundred years...I used to be beautiful." Horatio replies, "You still are, Susie." She half-laughs, half-sobs, then tells Horatio he reminds her of someone Chaz used to do drugs with, a real meth freak named Tin Man. Could this be getting any more obvious? All we need is Susie to say, "Yeah, he used to talk about how his wife was really into his brother. He'd find notes around the house addressed to 'H,' and it made him so distraught, he'd have to get high for days until the pain went away." Horatio composes himself -- no, it does not involve screaming, "My brother was a saint and a hero, not a bad cop!" -- and tells her he'll need her to testify again Chaz vis-à-vis Chaz's beating of Darwin and his incarceration of her. Susie's got reservations: "It's one thing to say he shoved me in a box, but dimeing him out for the actual murder?" Horatio asks urgently, "What would it take to make that happen?" Susie promptly replies, "Move my probation to Indiana. Get me a job." What she does not say: meth is an unusual drug epidemic in that it's moving west-to-east, and not vice versa, and is actually becoming a huge problem in predominately rural and/or suburban areas, so heading home to the prairie lands of Indiana is hardly going to remove Susie from the pernicious reach of crystal meth.
Anyway, Susie's optimistic about maybe kicking her habit once she's back home again in Indiana; Horatio promises to look into it. He then presses Susie for details of Darwin's killing. To make a long and not-very-interesting story short: after Susie, Tommy Lee, Darwin, and Chaz had spent the last five days doing nothing but snorting meth and indulging their tweaker hobbies, Chaz snapped and beat Darwin to death. You know, I want to kill if I go without sleep for twenty hours. I can't imagine what the rage would be like after five days. But enough about me. Susie's still babbling about Darwin, whose "head popped open like a tomato." So: beating, tomato-popping head, taping, more beating, topped by an abduction. That Chaz packs a lot into a day. Horatio tells Susie, "I'm going to need you to swear out a statement." Susie replies, "I'm good at swearing." Oh, goody -- we have the witty friend of Tina.