Sustaining What You Built
Chapter 1
Adults and kids, ranging from their terrible twos to their teens, filled the small deck and backyard, occupying lawn chairs as they ate burgers or dogs. Sunday afternoons were often like this at Alex's sister's place in Staten Island. The amount of people sometimes varied, but the noise and activity level didn't seem to change much. The kids who did make it usually just overcompensated for their missing cousins. Alex tried to be there as often as possible, as did her parents, and today both of her brothers had made it as well, bringing with them her two sister-in-laws and seven kids respectively.
Alex sat in a lawn chair in the yard with a few of her younger nieces and her nephew sitting around her with plates on their laps. She enjoyed the chattering of their little voices as they teased and picked at each other in between bites, often too big for their little mouths. For her it was the same as the quiet for some people (or like the library for her partner) – it cleared her head, made all the bad things she saw everyday a little less daunting.
She was pulled away from the kids when she heard the rattle of a lawn chair being dragged across the grass and then found her sister, Liz, making herself comfortable next to her. She was quiet at first, eating her burger and occasionally wiping a messy hand or mouth of one of the near-by kids. Alex knew it wouldn't last long.
As kids they never got along that well. Liz was their parents' last surprise and very much the little princess who stayed close to her mother. Alex, on the other hand, was sandwiched between two brothers and spent half her time racing to keep up with her older one and the other half looking out for the younger one. She was the child her parents had worried least about because she always seemed so capable, unwilling to be pushed around by anyone.
It wasn't until after she was older, after she became a widow that her family began to worry. It wasn't until then that her independence seemed less like resilience and more like a wall. That was when she and her sister became close, after many of her friends lost touch with her because of their uncertainty as to how to handle a young widow.
"Why are you ignoring Jeff?" Liz asked.
And there it was – Jeff, the nice divorcee who worked at the hospital with her brother-in-law, and who her sister decided to invite to their Sunday lunch specifically for Alex. He was handsome, tall and lanky, but not broad like her partner. His coloring was light like Joe's, even though his eyes seemed browner like hers. She kind of felt sorry for the guy as he unsteadily maneuvered around all the strangers and answered questions whenever one of her not so shy brothers started chatting him up.
"Why do you insist on introducing me to every single man you meet?"
"Hey, I cherry pick the good ones."
Alex couldn't help but snort. She had lost count of the number of times her sister had tried to set her up since the birth of her nephew. She guessed Liz felt like she owed it to her – to help facilitate a happy life just as Alex had helped her by birthing her son. They hadn't directly talked much about the surrogacy after it was over. There wasn't much need to. They had been to the therapy sessions during and neither had to voice the joy they felt for the other or how much they both ached for the parts they missed out on. They were both acutely aware of them.
"I'm just not looking for a relationship."
"Who cares about a relationship? Just go on a date for God sakes. You haven't been on a date in, what, two years?" Liz asked. "Not since that sign language guy, right? And I didn't even find out about him until after you broke it off."
"There was nothing to break off. We only went on a few dates…"
"And why was that, exactly?"
"Because…because he…it just wasn't what I wanted."
"Do you even know what you want?"
She wasn't really sure if she knew. The two people she could see herself wanting had been buried for ten years or just came with more complications than she was sure she could deal with. Neither were exactly viable options.
"I'm sure you think you do," Alex said.
"Yeah, but you think it's not an option so why bother pushing."
Alex snorted. Who's she trying to fool? She lives to push. Liz was probably the only person who knew Alex could feel more for her partner if she let herself. Not that Alex had told her as such or would ever fully admit it, but Liz knew her sister's tells probably even better than Bobby did.
"I just don't have the time—"
"Make time. I just want to see you happy."
"Who says I'm not happy? Not everyone has to have the husband, the kid, and the pretty house in the 'burbs to be happy."
Liz huffed.
"I didn't mean that you couldn't be…I know you love your job, but I just hate the idea of it being your life."
"It's not. I have you guys…I have friends…"
She knew it was a partial lie. Ten years ago she expected her life to be very different at this point and now her job (and maybe her partner as well) had taken the place of what she once thought she'd have.
Alex saw her sister ready to speak again and then found herself thankful for the ringing coming from her pocket. She pulled out her cell phone from her jeans and immediately answered once she saw it was the captain. He informed her of a double murder in the East Village and how he would send a squad car to pick her up from the ferry.
"Okay. Yes, that'd be fine. I'll head out now."
She flipped the phone closed and glanced back at her sister.
"Another great escape, huh?" Liz muttered.
"Sorry…"
"Yeah," Liz said, disappointment heavy in her tone.
Alex huffed, contemplating the idea of dating. The idea of Jeff, of Bobby, of moving on from the life she thought she'd have. It was well past time to, she knew, but a part of her still clutched to it like a ledge.
"Fine, if you want to organize a double date I'll go, but nothing fancy…drinks maybe. And don't make him think it's more than it is."
"Deal," Liz said and extended her hand.
Alex rolled her eyes and shook her sister's hand, feeling like she was sixteen again – trading chores for not being ratted out. She knelt down to hug her nephew and then said quick goodbyes as she hurried to catch the ferry.
XXXX
Bobby was already there, hovering over the bodies of Stephen and Josephine Bartlett when Alex arrived at the scene. She could hear the local detective saying how it looked like a robbery gone wrong as she approached the alley right next to a busy theater. The bodies laid – his slightly on top of hers – just at the opening, obviously surprised as they headed back to their home in Greenwich.
She noticed Bobby give a small shake of his head, ready to dismiss the younger detective, and seemingly unaware of her arrival. They almost always knew when the other was around – after nine years she knew how the air changed when he was around or the sound of his footsteps coming around the corner (heavy and slightly unbalanced). On one hand they were like an old married couple, willing to push the other or call the other out when need be, but also willing to protect the other through just about anything. But in some ways it was like they were still getting to know each other, because neither could deny how the last few years had changed them both and worn on their partnership.
"But they left her jewelry?" she heard Bobby ask. "I mean this ring on her finger is probably worth more than what ever was in her purse."
"They got interrupted…it's not exactly a secluded area," the young detective shot back with her hands on her hips.
"Yeah…" he said, not really convinced.
"Look, I got my guys canvassing the area to see if the perp might have dumped her purse near by and their taking witness statements…it's probably going to take awhile, you know considering a whole brigade of people were leaving the theater."
Alex watched Bobby nod and kneel next to the bodies.
"Let us know what you find," Bobby said absently.
The local detective walked off as Alex took her place near her partner.
"So murder gone good?" she asked.
He glanced up at her with a small smirk and a jerky nod. She knew he remembered the quip, but he immediately went back to business and gestured to the jewelry and watches still on the bodies as he rattled off about how they were specifically targeted.
Alex glanced over the bodies. He was tall and broad with dark skin, while she was nearly as tall, but fair with natural red hair and a boyish figure. She recognized both of them from the papers that covered their wedding a few months before, where the privileged daughter of a far left judge married the son of a black southern preacher.
"Looks like she took most of the hits," Alex said.
She knelt down on the opposite side of the bodies and pointed at the woman's stomach and chest. He nodded and began gesturing with his hands as he spoke again.
"He put himself in front of her…tried to protect her," Bobby said. "But then they shot him and he ended up trapping her underneath him…made it easy for them to finish her off."
"Pretty ballsy move shooting them right after a Sunday matinee."
"Impulsive, but not completely random. And look at the number of shots…the erratic aim…if he just wanted the purse, why take the time to do this much damage?"
Alex nodded in agreement and then glanced up at her partner.
"Well, with this couple we've got a tank full of possible motives."
Bobby nodded and then Alex followed his lead as he rose to his feet. He glanced back into the alley and pointed to a dumpster before heading towards it. Alex saw the small flannel shred that caught his attention on one of the sharp edges and the dark drips of blood that streaked it.
"He was in such a panic he ran into a dumpster?" Bobby muttered, almost amused, and then called for one of the CSU techs.
Alex listened as he talked to the CSU officer and then lead the way back to the opening of the alley. They saw the news vans gathering across the street and reporters in a string giving overviews on the murder and recapping the much publicized wedding.
"I have a SUV with me," Bobby said, pulling the keys from his pocket and shuffling on his feet. "Did you drive?"
"Uh, no. A squad car picked me up from the ferry."
He nodded and shuffled as if he wanted to say more.
"Well, we should get back. Ross said he'd get Judge Hawthorn and the Bartletts there for us to talk to," he said.
Alex nodded and held out her hand. He dropped the keys into her palm without hesitation and she gave him the faintest of smiles. She knew (as she was sure he did) they're feelings for each other were complex and maybe impossible to define, but recently she found herself contemplating them more and more – wanting to give definition to the space he's come to take up in her life. But she was still hesitant because she also knew how easily emotions could get mixed up – how they could disguise themselves as something they were not.
XXXX
Judge Hawthorne had spent his career ruffling feathers, particularly due to his stance on rehabilitation over the death penalty and had become known for his light sentences, particularly for first time offenders. He probably had more enemies with in his peers than with the people he helped put in jail. He was a thin man pushing sixty in khakis and a golf shirt and making a good show at holding his composure. His wife was less so and clutched tightly to her husband's arm with a Kleenex twisted between her free fingers. The Reverend and Mrs. Bartlett met some where in the middle, both with tight set jaws and tears stinging their eyes.
They had been in Ross' office for about thirty minutes as Bobby and Alex asked about their children's lives and tried to get a sense of how both sides felt about their marriage. The judge did most of the talking, while Mrs. Bartlett would occasionally cut in to confirm a detail concerning her son. The Reverend sat with his tears gradually turning to anger and his fists clutching the arms of his chair.
"They were happy…we all were very happy for them," Judge Hawthorne said. "It was the most beautiful…hopeful wedding—"
The reverend snorted.
"You call that circus a wedding…" the reverend muttered. "More like a platform for your ideals."
"Steve," whispered Mrs. Bartlett.
She tightened her hand on her husbands arm as the reverend tried to protest, but she just shushed him.
Alex shifted on her feet from where she leaned against Ross' desk, with Bobby and Ross flanking her on either side. She was certain their eyes had shifted to the Hawthornes as hers did, gauging the way the judge shifted slightly, hanging his head, but otherwise didn't react.
"Judge, can you think of anyone who might try to hurt you through Josephine?" Alex asked. "Have you received any threats?"
Hawthorne slightly shrugged and stared off as he thought.
"I've received a couple…letters from this one gun nut…I've been working on a proposal for new gun control reform…and there's been the occasional raciest rhetoric left in our mailbox since the wedding."
"Do you still have any of them?" Alex asked.
"I think so."
"We'll need you to get us copies."
"Of course, I can have my secretary fax them to you as soon as we get back."
Alex looked up at Bobby, looking to see if he was ready for the Hawthornes to leave. She knew him well enough to know that he wanted the Bartletts alone for a few minutes. He gave a slight nod and Alex looked toward the captain.
"Judge, Mrs. Hawthorne, we appreciate you coming in," Ross said. "The officer outside will take you home."
The Reverend and his wife rose as well, but Bobby held up his hand.
"We're still waiting on another officer to pick you up…so, please…sit," Bobby said.
The captain ushered out the Hawthornes, leaving the Bartletts to Alex and Bobby. The Bartletts huffed and retook their seats, while Bobby turned one of the free chairs toward the couple and sat, leaning toward them.
"You don't like Judge Hawthorne very much, do you Reverend?" Bobby asked.
The Reverend took in a deep breath and then replied, "I…I feel he is…misguided."
"Were you okay with your son marrying Josephine?" Alex asked.
"Don't get me wrong, detectives, I liked Joey…in many ways she was very good for Stephen…"
He paused glancing down at his lap and took in a shuddering breath.
"But you didn't think they knew what they were getting themselves into," Bobby said.
The Reverend shook his head.
"The Hawthornes are idealists…they only see the world they want to see. The Judge used their marriage as proof of his…vision. And he does love his press clippings…probably more than his daughter's safety. So, no, I know they had no idea what they were getting into."
The captain reappeared at the door with a uniformed officer behind him and thanked the Barletts before showing them out. Alex watched him closed the door and make his way back to the desk as she sat next to Bobby.
"All the news stations are already saying hate crime, what are we saying?" Ross asked.
"Well, the way Reverend Bartlett makes it sound, Hawthorne might as well have drawn a bulls-eye on them with all the press over their wedding," Alex said.
"It's still early to rule anything out," Bobby said. "It feels very…personal."
Ross swiped a hand over his forehead as he hovered behind his desk.
"You always think it's personal," Ross muttered. "Work on seeing if there are any other possibilities. Rodgers said she'd have the autopsies done in the morning…so find what you can. The witness statements should be coming in soon, see if there's anything there. There's got to be a descent description in there somewhere."
Both detectives nodded and then Bobby rose to head toward the door. Alex followed.
"Eames, stay a minute."
Alex tossed a look over her shoulder to Ross and then looked up at her partner's questioning gaze. She couldn't blame him for being a little paranoid about Ross conspiring with her or his frustration over being excluded, but she also saw concern. She gave a slight shrug and then he continued moving out into the squad room.
"Yes, captain?"
"Close the door."
She huffed, but did as he asked.
"I was going to wait until Monday, but since we're all here…I had a meeting with the chief and Captain Petrillo—"
"Petrillo? From vice?" she interrupted.
She watched Ross nod and remembered Pertrillo as the lead detective in the Vice unit she worked before MCS.
"She and I are helping to organize a new sex trafficking task force…both of us will be making recommendations from our squads for someone to run it. You're my top choice."
Her mouth hung open as she tried to summon up a response, flattery and uneasiness battling for supremacy.
"I appreciated that, but I have a job."
He sighed and didn't sound surprised, but a little disappointed. He rounded his desk and moved in front of her. She couldn't help but wonder if Bobby was watching.
"Eames, I've always respected your loyalty, but eventually you're going to have to think of yourself…of your career first."
"I am."
She knew she was being more defiant than certain.
"At least think about it. I have till Friday to give the chief my recommendations. Don't tell me 'no' until then."
Alex glanced at the floor, partly knowing he was right and that in the beginning she hadn't seen herself staying at MCS forever. Not that she was eager to play the political game or leave too much of the dirty work behind, but in the academy she had imagined having her own squad – a tight knit vice squad or some other small unit where she could still be slightly on the fringe, but make a modest name for herself. She finally looked up and nodded.
"I'll think about it."
He nodded and stared her down.
"I mean it. Really consider it."
She gave him one last nod and left the office. She let out a deep breath as she approached her desk and felt Bobby's eyes catch and follow her form as she seated herself across from him. She couldn't take his scrutiny right now – there were too many desires and fears forming in the pit of her stomach.
"What was that about?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Nothing," Alex said. "Looks like someone dropped off Josephine and Stephen's LUDS."
She held up the papers, hoping to distract him, but could see the worry in the corners of his eyes. He took the paper and carried on as if he wasn't thinking about her meeting with Ross. Though she knew it was there in the back of his mind as they spent the rest of the day sifting through witness statements and Judge Hawthorne's hate mail.