Law and Order: Criminal Intent

Eames' Day Part Two

AnneMarie Donahue

Inside the precinct the scene was utter chaos. Goren was barking into the phone at his desk. He had taken the cell phone away from Eames the moment she came in with it in her hand. Eames was currently locked in the captain's office explaining the entire conversation… again.

"I answered the phone, immediately saw the image of the little girl, and before putting the phone to my ear I heard the kidnapper say he had demands. I responded, and tried to keep him on the phone for as long as I could. I returned to the garage as fast as I could. But by the time I got out of my car he told me he had spoken long enough, and that we could expect a message soon."

"What kind of message?" Capt. Ross was standing against his desk; two other officers were in there with him. All three appeared to be glowering at Eames, she knew that they were concerned but she felt as though she had dropped the ball. The conversation was too short to get a location of the call.

"No idea, Captain. He wasn't specific, just told me to expect a message soon." She shook her head in frustration, "those were his exact words." Her thoughts ran to her sister, in all of the action she had never called Sylvia to explain. The minute the captain dismissed her back to her desk she would sneak a quick call.

"Okay, join your partner." She rose from her chair, the captain noticed the pained look on her face, "Detective, you did the best any of us could do."

"I didn't keep an open mind."

Goren waved her over to the desks as she exited the door. She was happy to see him, even if over the past few months they had grown further apart, Goren was always right beside her.

"The call came from inside the city, and chances are they were watching you." Goren said, hanging up the phone. "They waited for you to leave, and get just far enough away from the station before calling."

"Yeesh." She picked up the phone on her desk. She didn't care if it wasn't professional, she was calling her sister. Goren spied the area code she typed in and backed off. He glanced around nervously. He seemed to see something at in the hallway. Goren rapped on the desk to get her attention, then pointed over into the hallway.

Alex shrugged, she was listening to her sister forgive her. "Listen, I'll come over this Friday night, to pick up Jake and we'll have dinner then." She noticed Goren walking away from the desks, unobserved by the other officers. "Sylvia, I have to go. Just lock the doors and make sure no one buzzes the house." Alex hung up the phone absentmindedly missing her sister ask what was wrong.

Alex followed Bobby into the hallway at a distance; he was approaching a small cardboard box on the floor. It had been wrapped up in packing tape, and looked painfully out of place. Bobby knelt down on the floor beside it, looking at it with his head cocked to a side.

Alex called out to him, "Bobby, don't touch it." She sounded more like a concerned mother warning her son not to touch a broken bottle, instead of hoping her partner not trigger a potential bomb.

Without hearing her, he took out his jackknife and cut the top rim of tape. He pointed the blade into the package and lifted the left flap without so much as a blink. Alex held her breath for a minute, expecting the worst. Goren looked over at her.

"Eames, come look at this." He waved at her.

She let out her breath and moved quickly over to him, feeling both relieved and annoyed. She had learned after several years, that there was no point in getting furious, so she simply got annoyed and never fully expressed it. "That could have been dangerous."

"It wasn't," was his simple answer. He waved at an officer standing idly to the side, "I need a glove."

Inside the captain's office the mother sat sobbing in front of the teddy bear her daughter always had on her. Norman was sitting by his wife, awkwardly holding her hand and glaring at Det. Eames.

"That's Angela's," Alice sobbed, "she took it everywhere with her. She must be so terrified without it."

Goren looked at the stuffed toy thinking of security blankets. He determined that he would have the bear with him when they found the girl. Eames noticed his intense stare and moved closer to see the bear from his angle.

"What are you seeing?" She asked softly.

Goren pointed at the back and directed his question to Alice, "Mrs. Dunwood, did you do this?" He turned the bear around for her to examine the back, revealing a long scar and bad stitching job running up its back.

Alice meekly shook her head, confused.

"Would you mind?" Goren took out his pocket knife and motioned to the bear, intending to cut the stitching.

Eames noticed that Alice had caught her breath and leaned forward, instinctively Alex went to her. "I can fix it when he's done, but there may be something in there that we need to retrieve."

Alice nodded her head, she released her husband's hand and grabbed Alex's hard. Alex was taken aback by the sudden closeness, but Alice's grip was firm, Alex could only reciprocate.

Goren cut a few of the strings and gently pulled the bear's back open. Eames silently prayed that he wouldn't find a finger or toe of the missing child. Goren looked up at her and pulled a small audio tape out. Alex exhaled slowly, she felt Alice's grip soften, evidently the mother had the same terror of what was enclosed in the bear.

"I'll call AV, we'll need a tape recorder," Captain Ross said picking up the phone.

Goren left the office quickly. Eames filled in the blank, "he's got one at his desk."

Ross smirked and stifled a chortle, "of course he does."

Goren reappeared with his hand-held tape recorded, which Eames had seen him use innumerable times. He popped the tape in and pressed play. Goren waited a few seconds before turning the sound up as far as it could go.

The voice was scratchy, and obviously disguised, there was some distortion behind the speaker but Eames couldn't make it out. The words were clear, as were the demands.

"We want three million dollars in small bills, dropped off at the plaque to Olmstead in Central Park at exactly 12:45 tomorrow. That's gonna be Saturday if you get this right. You can bring all the cops you want. We get the money and you get your kid back. Don't fuck this up."

The audio cut out. Alice took one breath in and began to sob violently; she was at the end of what she could take. Eames' heart went out to her. The woman was not a good mother, but this was too much for anyone to endure. Norman looked horrid, racked with guilt and fear for his daughter.

"We're going to get her back," Eames put her hand on Alice's shoulder and looked directly into her face. Alice appreciated the affection, Norman was infuriated by it.

"Maybe she would already be back if you hadn't wasted your time investigating my wife." He stood up, "We're going to end this, we're paying them off."

Goren stood up and went to object but Norman cut him off. "Forget it! Don't come tomorrow please, just leave us alone. It was wrong of us to call the police in the first place."

Norman grabbed his wife's arm and, yanking her out of her chair, pushed her from the room. Alice looked back at Alex; she would have pleaded with Alex to follow them tomorrow, to protect them, but was silenced by her husband. Alex forgave Norman his outburst, if he had been a stronger figure maybe this wouldn't have happened, and because of that he was being stronger now. It was flawed, but Alex thought every one needed their own logic to follow.

Goren was sitting at his desk surfing the internet when Eames returned with a cup of tea. She placed her cup on the desk opposite him and watched. Without looking up he knew she was there waiting for an explanation.

"There's a demonstration in the park tomorrow." He pointed at the screen. "I thought there was something wrong by asking for the drop at such an open place."

Eames moved around to stand behind him, looking over Goren's shoulder. Reading aloud Eames said, "Gothic music festival and gothic life awareness rally. Headliners Lucretia's Dagger… oh that's not weird." Goren laughed, for the first time in days. Eames put her hand on his shoulder and he patted it. Eames was sorry she had yelled at him last night, even if it was for his own good. She felt like she had an older brother in him. He was a genius, and he had taught her more about detective work and interrogation than she could have ever learned elsewhere, but this man knew nothing about life. She was protective of him and sisterly, but it was becoming strained. She could only sympathize with him for so long, eventually he would have to make a change if he wanted to be happy, and she wasn't going to do it for him. Bobby needed someone who didn't want to fix him. Alex could never be that woman for him, neither of them wanted that.

She broke out of her reverie to miss what he had said, "what, I'm sorry. I was distracted by the kids with eight pounds of metal hanging off his face." Alex was in a mood to joke snidely. She didn't like this music, and hated the attitude that it promoted intensely.

"Tomorrow there is a music festival, plenty of vendors; plenty of people all dressed up the same. This going to be a mess."

"We have talk the family into letting us put a tracer on the bag."

Goren was practically sprinting to keep up with Norman Dunwood. Alex was jogging next to the two tall men. Norman was trying desperately to shake both of the detectives.

"We tried your way, and all it got was my wife under investigation."

"We're sorry Mr. Dunwood. But what you're doing now is even more dangerous. There's no guarantee that once you hand in the money you will get your daughter back." Alex explained, quickly running out of breath, she could jog for miles, just not in heels. "Please, just let us put a trace in the bag."

"No, now stay away from me." Norman ran ahead of them. Goren and Eames fell back.

Goren looked down at Eames, "if he had the case on him, I would have slipped it in."

"He's got it stashed somewhere."

Goren raised the hand radio to his mouth, "follow at a safe distance."

Norman Dunwood's day was entirely recorded. He rose early that morning and showered briskly. The police department learned that he color coordinated his closet, brushed with pepsident, and left his apartment directly for Central Park. He did not stop at a bank that morning or the night before. Ross had placed a tail on both Dunwood's the minute they left the precinct.

Both he and Alice had returned to the Brown Stone townhouse they shared at one point. No one came over and neither of them left. The cleaning lady had the day off. The nanny, feeling no loyalty to the family, had gone to a club that evening and returned in the early hours of the morning.

The banks had not alerted any activity in either of the Dunwood's accounts, or of Mrs. Dunwood's business. If they had taken the money it was out of some account unknown to the police.

Alice remained home; she had seen her husband to the door, before he was confronted by Detectives Goren and Eames. Two plain clothed officers remained at her house, ensuring that she stayed home and received no visitors.

Mr. Dunwood walked quickly into the park. He found a seat on a bench and checked his watch. He was a half hour early and had no intention of deviating from the directions. The park was filling up; the first band had already begun to play. The noise was horrific. Younger detectives dressed to fit in watched at a safe distance, trying to make their stares less apparent.

Dunwood caught a glimpse of Goren, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the army of the skinny undead. Dunwood glowered at him and moved away, hiding deeper in the crowd. Eames held her hand out to prevent Goren from following him into the crowd.

"We've got him watched from all sides," she warned.

They began to walk an arch around Norman and the drop site, waiting for something. Goren's head struck out above the crowd, like a pelican amongst angst-ridden pigeons. He and Eames walked past teenagers and college student dressed in all shades of black, metal from every extremity, hair the color of rainbows.

Goren caught a glimpse of Norman kneeling by the small monument. He opened his bag and dumped his money into a pageboy bag that had been placed by the foot of the mound. Goren nudged Eames, who couldn't see anything except the punk trying to stare her down five feet away. Goren began to move and tugged her coat to bring her along.

Goren could watch the entire thing unfold. One kid picked up the bag and moved off; before Goren could activate his radio the bag traded hands. The two punks were dressed identically; Eames would never believe how right she was. He followed the blue Mohawk move into a group of blue Mohawks, trying in vain to keep the right one straight. He pushed kids out of the way as the blue Mohawks dispersed. Goren followed the one he had originally followed, reached over quickly, the kid was still holding the bag and gave a yell as Goren pulled him back.

Just as Goren was calling in back up someone in the crowd at one end yelled, "holy shit, is that Marilyn Mason?" All but two heads turned the stage, and then the stampede began. Fifteen hundred skinny kids in black leather breezed past Goren and Eames and into that flurry the blue Mohawk disappeared. Goren followed him with his eyes for only so long, but realized he still had the bag in his hand. Goren swallowed hard, opened the bag, and in it was a collection of porno-mags.

"Fuck!" Goren yelled in frustration, Eames caught up to him, looked in the bag and silently seconded Goren's protestation.

Back at the station Goren was engrossed in the surveillance tapes shot by the patrolmen stationed on rooftops and on the ground for any trace of the kids.

"It was so stupid it worked brilliantly," he said, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

'That's one way to get around us, just keep being dumber.' Eames thought. "You don't think this was a professional job."

"No, there were way too many chances to get busted. No professional would have used this, or at least they would have been too old to think of it."

"How many people do you think were in on it?"

"Maybe five, I had the patrolmen bring in the Marilyn Manson look-a-like for questioning."

"You think he was part of it?"

"What else would cause a stampede like that?" He stopped and put his hand to his mouth, "it was perfect."

He stopped trying to watch the blue Mohawks and instead focused on Norman.

"Eames, look at this." He pointed the remote at the vcr, winding back the tape. "Watch Norman."

Alex watched as Norman placed the money in the bag and then took off. He made a bee-line out of the crowd and onto a plateau on the field where he watched the stage.

"He's not watching the money. He's watching the stage."

Norman's actions became even stranger; he bent his wrist to look at his watch, which then reflected the sunlight brightly. A second after that the stampede began. Eames didn't need the audio to realize what had happened.

"He signaled the person to start the stampede." Alex was incredulous, but it quickly turned to rage, "he played me."

"He played us." Goren corrected.

Captain Ross was apologizing profusely to Marilyn Manson as he walked out of the precinct.

"That wasn't a look-a-like, my kid's going to kill me." Ross said. "What about the father?"

"We don't want to pull him in, the girl's still out there, and we don't want anyone panicking." Eames explained. Ross looked into the investigation room, noticing Goren listening to the audio from the tape over again.

"What's he thinking?" Ross said nodding to Goren.

"Don't know."

Eames entered the room and looked at Goren.

"There's something else, under this audio." He explained, turning up the volume for her benefit.

"You know we have a lab that can do this?" She asked, annoyed.

"I can do it faster," he said. Eames would have reamed anyone else out for that kind of confidence. He listened again, Eames began to hear what he was talking about. It was a dull repeating sound in the background, it sounded far away or…

"Muffled, it sounds like it's muffled." Eames proposed.

Goren nodded at her. Eames pulled the picture of the little girl in front of her, and concentrated on the video. She took her eyes off Angela and looked at the background, it was a bad picture. Low resolution, grainy and out of focus. Angela sat on the floor, underneath a table that was attached to the wall. There were cables all over the place. The floor was carpeted, but threadbare. It looked like egg crates were glued onto the wall behind her.

"Goren, you have to look at this." Eames said, picking up a magnifying glass to take a closer look at one of the albums on the floor.

Goren was still listening intently to the audio, "it's got a rhythm, maybe it's a dryer, or a washing machine?"

"Goren, check this out, what does this look like?" Eames wasn't paying attention to him, and he was ignoring her right back.

"Eames, I'm trying to hear this." Goren shushed her.

Alex looked up stared at him, and sternly said, "Bobby!" Goren pressed the stop button and put all of his attention to her. "Look at this album." Eames slid the picture to him for inspection. He looked at his closely, and then bolted up. Eames followed.

"It's an interesting co-incidence that Angela is pictured next to an album of some random band that you just happen to have." Eames barked. The nanny hung her head low as she sat cross-legged on her narrow bed.

"I have nothing to do with this." She said from underneath her hair.

Goren took the photo out of his binder and slid it into her lap. "She missing, the parents paid off the guys who took her and she's still out there."

The nanny sat motionless, she kept her hair in front of her face to keep her expression from showing, but Goren noticed something in her change.

"What is it?" Goren leaned in and took a closer look at her.

"I know this room." She took the picture in her hands and looked up; Eames noticed her face had gone completely white. "I had nothing to do with this, I swear it."

Eames grabbed the nanny by her shoulders and would have shaken her had Goren not been there. "Where is she?"

"This is my boyfriend's recording studio."

Inside the recording studio, which was nothing more than the boyfriend's aunt's basement converted, Angela Dunwood played with a stuffed dog. She looked content to stay where she was. A nice elderly lady played with her and signed little messages to her.

"I want to go home." Angela tried one last time to communicate with the woman, who only smiled and patted her on the head, then held her hands over her ears and shook her head. She had never learned to read lips.

A light flashed on and off on the wall to indicate that someone was at the door. She signed something to the little girl, then picked her up and walked upstairs. She smiled at the nice man who answered the door, put Angela down and signed at him.

Goren and Eames were shocked. Angela was fine, even cared for. Goren waved back the police to keep them from invading the house. He signed in broken ASL, "who is that?"

"Nephew friend sister. I care for."

"Nephew where?"

She shrugged and looked around.

"With us come, please?"

It was then that the woman's face first revealed a flash of concern.

"Hurt nephew?"

Goren shook his head.

"Trouble nephew?"

Goren tapped his first two fingers against his thumb, the woman looked down at Angela and signed for her to go with her to the police station. She leaned over to pick her up, Eames held out her hand to stop her. Leaning over, she spoke to Angela.

"Hi Angela, I'm Alex. I'm going take you to your parents now? Okay?"

"Can I keep my dog?"

A patrolman ran up to Goren, "we got the boyfriend; two cops picked him up about a block from here buying pizza."

Goren looked at Eames, who had picked up Angela and was holding her in her arms; he shook his head at her. "Finally we got dumb enough to catch this creep."

Inside the interrogation room Goren didn't have to do much talking. The boyfriend, Danny, was more than happy to fill in the gaps.

"I want a deal." Danny said nervously eyeing his attorney and Carver.

"You're doing time, there's no way around that, you can take someone down with you if you'd like." Carver said with his usual cool voice.

"Gina didn't have anything to do with this. It was the old man who set the whole thing up. He had the plan about the kidnapping, the money, even the crowd and how to cause the riot." The kid fidgeted in his seat non-stop.

Goren leaned in, "Norman Dunwood paid you to kidnap his own daughter? Why?"

Danny sat back in his seat, relaxed since he had Goren's interest, "I didn't ask why."

Carver was not impressed, "if all you have is his word I'm not interested…" Carver directed his comment at the attorney, to get a rise out of the kid.

Danny jumped forward in his seat, agitated, "I got proof. I recorded the entire thing." He took off his shoe and produced a small audio tape. He popped it on the table and looked defiantly at Carver, then winked at Goren, who moved back a little oddly.

Eames was in the observation room with Alice Dunwood, Angela was sleeping in her arms.

"Mrs. Dunwood, can you think of any reason your husband would do this to his own child?" Eames asked softly.

Alice grimaced and looked hard. "He wanted full custody, and alimony. Both of which I denied. The money for the ransom came out of a fund I had set up in Angela's name. He knew I was hording money so that the divorce settlement would screw him." She hugged Angela closer, "bastard."

Eames raised her eyebrows and silently agreed.

Alex laid her nephew gently into his crib, she leaned over a kissed his forehead. Sylvia watched from the background. Alex paused to look at Jake sleeping in his crib. He was surrounded by stuffed animals, padded crib walls, educational toys, everything to keep him happy and safe. She ran her hand along the side of the crib. Alex could feel that it was right Jake lived there, that Sylvia and not she, was his mother. She would wait, devote less time to work, and more time to finding someone. Then she would have a child of her own.

Downstairs Alex and her sister sat in front of the TV, ignoring it.

"So, the dad had his own daughter kidnapped?" Sylvia asked.

"Yeah, people are messed up in that city." She looked down at the mug of tea resting in her lap. "Over money too. It amazes me that no matter how many different ways people commit crime, it always comes down to money."

"Sick." Sylvia sipped her last bit of tea, then rose and headed toward the kitchen. "Come on, I'll warm up the cup."

Alex followed her into the kitchen and rested her elbows on the island. Sylvia put the kettle on, and leaned against the counter. The two sisters looked at each other across the kitchen.

"So tell me about that partner of yours," Sylvia wanted to playfully pick a fight.

Alex rolled her eyes and smirked. "He's alright." She closed her eyes and shifted her weight. "That's a lie, he's a wreck."

Sylvia's playful smile vanished.

Alex continued, "he lost his mother recently. Cancer." Sylvia sighed; their mother had gone the same way, except much more peacefully. "His brother is all messed up, gambling addict, possible mental illness. Frankly, I worry that he's borderline himself." Alex flushed for a moment.

"What?" Sylvia asked, she had spotted Alex's change in mood.

"I feel guilty talking about him like this."

Sylvia rolled her eyes, an identical trait the sisters shared, "oh Christ, Alex, it's me! You feel guilty, I'm the one who's playing mommy with your child!"

Alex and Sylvia sucked in a breath and starred at each other for a moment, both shocked that the cards were finally lying on the table.

"Sylvia, I never knew you were having trouble with this." Alex talked as slowly as possible, trying to make sure her voice sounded soft and forgiving. "I had depression for so long, but I was afraid to tell you. I didn't want to upset you, or make you think I wanted him back."

"I felt like I had stolen him from you!" Sylvia interrupted.

They remained silent for a few minutes. The tension was broken by the kettle boiling. Sylvia poured the tea without making eye contact with Alex. She went to move away but Alex grabbed her free hand held her sister in place.

"I want Jake to be here." She looked her sister in the eyes, Sylvia met her gaze. "I can't be the mom he deserves. I want to find someone and raise a child with him, but I'm just not there, yet."

"Do you mean that?" Sylvia asked.

"Yes, it took me a while to realize it, but I mean it."

"Thanks."

Detective Eames walked into the precinct Tuesday morning. Her weekend had been cut short, so she took Monday to spend another day with Jake in the park. Sylvia was very thankful for the weekend off, as was her husband. Both joked that Alex could babysit whenever she wanted. Alex liked the prospect of spending more time with Jake as his aunt, without any confusion.

She sat down at her desk, for the first time ever she had beaten Bobby into the office. Alex smirked at her success. His desk was the same controlled mess he had left it as two days ago. She pulled out her paperwork and began to work on it, filing the report for the District Attorney from the last case. She would be happy to testify against Norman Dunwood.

The office slowly came to life as other detectives and other partners moved in and began their work. Alex finished her section of the report. She reached over and took Bobby's off his desk. 'He won't mind,' she thought as she began to fill out his report. She had done this before, she was much better with notes and paperwork. If left to his own devices half of Goren's perps would have to be set free for lack of follow through on reports.

Alex could block out the world when she was in her paperwork mode. Alex didn't become suspicious until she had finished off Goren's report. She looked up, and noticed that the entire office was in full swing. People were moving about, and the phones were ringing non-stop, there was a lot of chatter in the background.

Alex checked the time, it was 10:40. Where the hell was Goren? As if reading her mind the captain came out of his office and called her over.

"Have a seat Alex." Her heart jumped into her throat. She was horrified. Captain Ross had never called her Alex, something terrible happened to Goren. Nicole Wallace had come back and murdered him.

"Goren has applied for two weeks emergency medical leave, I approved it." Capt. Ross was standing over her, watching her face for expression.

"Oh my God. What happened?" Alex was on the verge of panic. She had worked vice for years, major case for almost a decade and this was the first time since high school she had suffered a panic attack.

"Alex, he's okay. He said he wanted to take some time off, to grieve and to collect himself." Ross moved to the back of his desk as soon as he saw that Alex was alright. "I suspect the work, and his personal stress has finally gotten to him. I'm just glad he decided to take this time off before something happened on the job."

Alex chewed her bottom lip. Goren hadn't said a word to her all that time. He didn't even call her, he just took off.

"I'll assign you a temporary partner for the two weeks." He stood up, but noticed she was still sitting, not looking at him. "Alex, are you okay?"

Alex took a deep breath and looked up, "yup."

Alex walked into her house that night. She looked over at her new birds chirping happily in their cage. She was comforted by them. The mail in her hand was the usual crap, bills, junk mail, advertisements for a credit card. Alex looked at the postcard buried in between an electric bill and a free offer for American Express. It was a picture of Boston, very cheesy, pictures of duct tour boats and a cartoon lobster. She smiled knowing what was on the back before even flipping it over.

"Boston is good, see you in two weeks. Bobby."