HITTING BOTTOM
Author's note: I do not own any Law and Order Criminal Intent characters, nor do I own any characters from Law and Order who might show up. Dick Wolf, of course, owns them and has done quite well by them. I do own the other characters in this story: Annie, the children, Sarah, Tom, and various other people (named and unnamed). They inhabit my imagination where they live out their lives trying to fit into the LOCI universe.
This story is set during season 7 and begins where Amends begins…with Bobby sitting on the floor of his kitchen. Just a note about the glimpses we get of Bobby's kitchen in season 7 and again seasons 8 and 9. I don't know how you picture Bobby and Annie's kitchen, but in my head it is nothing like the kitchen we see in Amends. However, I'm not even going to try to reconcile LOCI "canon" with my story…I'll just ask you to join me in my imagination and accept that Bobby is sitting on the floor of the kitchen in the house he shares with Annie and their children.
Thank you so much to Judyg, who not only betas for me, but lets me bounce ideas off of her. And whose own wonderful story is so ingrained in my head that just the other day I was thinking about a scene and trying to remember where I had put it in my story, only to realize it was Judy's scene from her story! I've also been known to type "Amy" instead of "Annie", mixing up my character with Flashymom's. I will try to keep my story straight and keep it separate from Judy's, as well as the other fanfics I am following….
Chapter 1
I am sitting on the kitchen floor. I don't know the time, exactly, but it is very late. The house is silent; Annie and the children are sleeping. Even Sandy has snuck from her bed here in the kitchen into the normally forbidden bedroom of Phillip and Andrew.
I'm glad that Annie is asleep. She was so exhausted for the last few months of my mother's illness, especially the last two weeks. She moved into my mother's room at Carmel Ridge, sleeping on the loveseat in Mom's room that folded out into a bed. Not very comfortable, I know. But then, I doubt that Annie slept much. She was up with Mom at every sound, making sure she was comfortable, calling the nurse if she was in pain, even slipping into the narrow bed with Mom and holding her while she cried in pain or fear. Since Mom passed away, it's as though Annie can't get enough sleep. She is in bed early and sleeps as late as she can, sometimes even falling asleep as soon as she gets home from work.
Mom. It's hard to fathom that the world exists without my mother. She has been the center of myworld for as long as I can remember. While I know there must have been a time when she took care of me, most of my memories are of taking care of her. I can't wrap my mind around a life without that need.
"It's just that I never knew for sure." Did she know how those words would affect my life? Did she know that she was tossing a grenade into my life as her life ebbed away? Did she even care? No, I suppose that isn't fair. She kept her secret for forty six years and she only told me at the end because I asked, I pushed. She would have taken that secret with her to her grave if I hadn't asked. She didn't want to tell me, but finally she told me the truth.
Truth. It's what I have spent most of my life pursuing. Finding facts, gathering clues, breaking down defenses, extracting confessions from people who thought they were unshakable. I have been relentless and ruthless in my pursuit of truth. And now there is a relentless and ruthless truth in my life that I am afraid will destroy me.
I haven't told Annie what my mother told me before she died. I haven't told her what Mark Ford Brady led me to discover before his execution. The secret could have died with them, the only two people in the world who knew. But it didn't die. It lives on with me. Was that Brady's intent? I thought that he wanted to goad me into killing him so that he could feel he, and not the state of Pennsylvania, was in control of his death. Now I'm not so sure. Maybe he simply wanted to make sure that the secret survived him, giving him some sort of immortality.
There is so much in my life now that I am just not certain of. I have thought for years that the deterioration of my mother's mental state was related to my father's death. I thought that it was proof of the love she had for him, in spite of his abandonment. But now I realize that there may have been something else that precipitated her decline. Mark Ford Brady was arrested, tried, and sentenced to death just a few years before my father died. It was a notorious case with a lot of publicity. It is almost a certainty that Mom saw him in the news. She would have recognized him. Finding out that he had raped and murdered those seven women must have flooded her with memories of her love affair with him, which ended in rape and a brutal beating. I was four years old when she took that weekend trip with him. I know from looking at family pictures that she was never the same, although it would be three more years before she began to show signs of schizophrenia. If her brutalization at the hands of Brady was a trigger for the schizophrenia, is it possible that finding out he had not only raped, but murdered, other women triggered the spiral that resulted in her commitment to Carmel Ridge? I don't have an answer.
"It's just that I never knew for sure." I let her words flow through my brain and slowly allow their meaning wash over me. My father, the man who I tried so hard to impress, the man who left Frank and me alone with a mentally ill mother, the man who couldn't be bothered to attend one basketball game or even my graduation from the police academy…that man may not have actually been my father. Instead of the gambling, alcoholic, womanizer who abandoned us, my father may very well have been a serial rapist and murderer. I almost laugh out loud at the absurdity. "You could have gone either way," Jo Gage told me. If she only knew.
Annie. There is so much I haven't told her over the last few years. Even though I moved home months ago, I still miss her. There is a chasm between us that I don't know how to bridge. I know that she feels it as well. Since I came home we haven't had time to deal with any of the issues of our marriage. We have both been so busy and focused on my mother's illness that we have simply ignored the chasm. We talk, we plan, we make love….but there is tentativeness in the way we speak, the way we touch. I know that just as there are areas of my life that I keep curtained off from her, there are things in her heart that she does not allow me to see as well. For once in my life I am not so anxious to pursue truth, afraid that the truth just might be that she doesn't want to be married to me anymore. She has been more supportive than I have any right to expect. She not only made sure my mother was taken care of; she made sure that I was alright. She worried about whether I was eating and sleeping; she guided me through the entire death and dying process. She helped me make decisions for the funeral. I don't know how I would have been able to get through that day without her hand in mine. Since the funeral, I catch her watching me with a worried look. I know that she thinks I am not allowing myself to grieve. She is right. But she doesn't know why.
"It's just that I never knew for sure." How can those words not be the focus of my world now? I know that I should tell Annie. Sharing burdens like this is what marriage is about. It's what our marriage used to be about. I just can't seem to bring myself to share this one. Not now. Not yet. Maybe one day soon I will let her in.
The ringing of the phone breaks into my reverie. It can't be good at this time of night. I should get up from the floor and answer it before it wakes Annie. But I can't seem to summon the energy. I'm on leave, I want to bellow at Ross or whoever is calling me to a case right now. Instead I stay where I am and ignore the ringing. Maybe Annie is so deeply asleep that it won't wake her.
The ringing stops and I sigh with relief. But just a few minutes later my cell phone begins to ring. I pull it from my pocket and look at the display. Eames cell. Eames wouldn't call me at this hour, she wouldn't call me during my leave, unless it was important, unless she needed my help. I answer as I pull myself to my feet.
"Yeah, Eames, what is it?"
The ringing of the telephone dragged Annie from sleep. Without opening her eyes, she reached over to the bedside table for the phone.
"Hello," she mumbled.
"Annie," came Alex's voice. "I'm so sorry to wake you up, but can I talk to Bobby?"
Annie opened her eyes and looked at Bobby's pillow. Empty.
"Um…he's not in bed, Alex. He's probably down in the basement, reading. Want me to go get him? Or you can try his cell."
"Don't get up," Alex told her. "I really am sorry I woke you. I'll try his cell."
"OK." Annie hesitated for a moment, and then added, "Alex…he's still on family leave….."
"I know, Annie. It's….it's important."
Annie sighed. "OK. Good night Alex."
She hung up the phone and sat up. Sliding her feet into her slippers, she left her bed and her sleep to go find her husband. The light was on in the kitchen and Bobby was talking to Alex on his cell phone. Annie saw him putting his wallet in his pocket and picking up his badge.
"No, no, no Eames. You were right to call…."
He met her troubled gaze as he ended the call.
"You're on leave," she said, stopping in front of him.
"A cop has been shot," he told her.
The silence stretched between them as they looked at one another. Finally Annie sighed in defeat and nodded. Bobby reached out and pulled her into his arms.
"I'm OK," he whispered against her hair.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. Bobby squeezed her, then kissed the top of her head and gently pushed her away.
"I have to go."
As he moved to step away, Annie grasped his shirt and pulled him to her.
"Take care of yourself, Detective," she said.
He smiled at her and leaned down to kiss her.
"I will," he promised.
Kissing her again, Bobby stepped away and walked to the front door. Annie watched him go, trying to quell the uneasy feeling she had.
Annie watched the "sea of blue" at the funeral. She wondered how many police funerals she had been to over the years. Even when she didn't know the officer, as with Kevin Quinn, she still tried to make it to every funeral. She felt that as an officer's wife, she was as duty-bound as her husband to honor those who had fallen. And support the family left behind.
She spotted Bobby, so handsome in his dress blues, and Alex. This time, for this funeral, Bobby had tried to convince her not to go. She insisted on going to the funeral, but she acquiesced to his request that she not go to Theresa Quinn's home after the funeral, although her instinct was to go. She knew many in the NYPD were angry with Bobby because the suspect they so publicly arrested for Quinn's murder was released. She not only wanted to pay her condolences to the widow, but to show her support for her own husband. But she knew he wanted to shield her from the anger directed at him and finally she gave in and promised she would go home after the funeral. She saw Mike and their gazes locked for a moment. Too many funerals, she thought. Too many.
Mike nodded slightly as he acknowledged Annie. He thought about Max's funeral, and all the police funerals he had been to over the years. And he thought about Sarah. He saw Jimmy and Angie Deakins, but Sarah wasn't with them. No surprise there. It wasn't likely that she knew Kevin Quinn, so she had no reason to be at his funeral. He wondered if hearing about his murder made her realize how right she had been to break up with him. He looked over to where Theresa and Tommy Quinn stood. Theresa was pale and it was obvious she had been crying, but for the moment her eyes were dry. Mike watched as Deputy Commisioner Leland Dockerty presented the flag to Tommy Quinn. The little boy stoically took it and held it against his chest. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine Sarah and Jai Li at his own funeral, receiving that flag.
The bagpipe began to play the melancholy strains of "Amazing Grace". This finally seemed too much for Theresa Quinn. Tears began to slide down her cheeks, slowly at first. By the time the song ended, Theresa was sobbing openly. Patrick and Marcie Copa were standing behind her and Patrick moved next to her to put his arms around her, holding her as she cried and shook. Tommy was watching her with solemn eyes, clutching the flag and his father's badge. Without a word, Tommy walked over and slipped his hand in hers. Theresa leaned down and kissed the top of his head, and then they walked slowly to the waiting car.
Mike caught sight of Goren and Eames. He wondered how uncomfortable it was for Goren being here. Since the release of Johnny Sang, there was a lot of anger in the department. For their sakes, he hoped Goren and Eames were right.
Someone had tuned the TV in the break room to the televised funeral for Kevin Quinn. Sarah wanted to turn it off, but found herself mesmerized. Her eyes filled with unshed tears as the camera zoomed in on the widow as she wept in another officer's arms, her young son standing next to her with the flag. Was it worth it, she wanted to ask the woman. Were the years you had with him worth this pain?
"Theresa, you'll get through this. I did."
"Is it true your partner made them release that bastard?"
Alex sighed and looked away for a moment, considering Theresa Quinn's question. They had been close once, when Joe and Kevin were partners. Alex thought at the time it was a friendship that would last a lifetime. And it had…at least for Joe's lifetime. Alex and Theresa had drifted apart after Joe's murder. Theresa's confession that she stopped calling because of her guilt over feeling relief that it was Joe and not Kevin who died only confirmed what Alex had known intuitively. She looked at the grief and rage in Theresa Quinn's face, understanding it all too well, before putting her arm around the other woman's shoulders and leading her to the couch. They sat down and Alex turned to face her.
"Theresa, I want you to understand that we had no choice but to let Sang go. Copa's ID was bad. There is no way he saw Sang. Maybe he thinks he saw him, but I'm telling you that there is no way he could have. Bobby only pointed out something that any smart defense attorney would have picked up on. It would have been worse to have that come out in a trial and have Sang acquitted. This way we can still charge him if we find other evidence."
"So, you do think Sang did this," Theresa asked.
"I don't know. But I promise you this. Bobby and I, we won't stop until we find whoever it was that killed Kevin. If it was Sang, we'll find the evidence that will put him away. But if it was someone else, we are going to find him."
"Patrick wouldn't lie, Alex. Not about who shot Kevin."
"Maybe he didn't lie. Maybe he was just saying what he wanted to believe was true. But, Theresa, Copa's ID is no good and that's all there is to it."
Theresa looked at Alex for several long moments, trying to process this information. Finally she nodded her head. Alex hugged her and told her that she had to go, but she would be calling to check on her and to keep her updated on the investigation.
Mike Logan overheard Theresa's question and when Alex moved away, he went over to introduce himself to the widow.
"Mrs. Quinn, I'm Mike Logan. I'm very sorry for your loss. I never met your husband, but I heard that he was a good cop."
"Thank you, Mike." Theresa looked up at him, frowning in concentration. "Logan? I've heard of you…you punched that city councilman."
"Uh…yeah, that's me."
"You're a legend on the force."
"Well, to be honest, I'm not really proud of what I did. And I'm not so sure the satisfaction I got from doing it was worth spending ten years on Staten Island. But I'm with Major Case now."
"Major Case? Then you work with Alex….and with…him."
"I do work with them, and that's why I wanted to talk to you. I…uh….I know how hard this is for you. And…I…well, I understand how Patrick Copa is feeling." He let go of her hand and looked down at the floor, then back at her, clearly uncomfortable. "I had two partners that got shot, and one of them died. I know how badly Copa wants to get the guy who did this. But, uh, Goren and Eames…they….um….they're good at what they do. They'll get this guy, whoever it is."
Theresa smiled sadly. "Thank you, Mike. I really appreciate it. That means a lot, coming from someone who knows what its like. But…Chief Moran said…he said that Goren is a 'whack job'."
"With all due respect, Mrs. Quinn…did your husband believe everything Moran said?"
She looked at him, surprised. "No," she said slowly. "Actually, he said that Bradshaw and Moran are…well, he called them jackasses….and said they both stopped being cops a long time ago. He said they are just politicians now."
"Well," Mike said with a grin, his eyes twinkling. "That's all I'm saying." Across the room, he saw Chief Moran moving in their direction. "I just wanted to give you my condolences, Ma'am," he said. When he knew that Moran was within earshot he raised his voice slightly and added, "And Goren and Eames will get whoever did this." Giving her hand a comforting squeeze, Mike nodded at Moran. "Chief," he said respectfully as he got up.
He could feel the Chief of Detectives' glare boring into his back as he walked away.
Bobby glanced at his cell phone as he and Alex sat at their desks. Annie was calling.
"Hi," he answered.
"Hi. I don't mean to disturb you…." Annie sounded hesitant.
"No, it's OK. I'm almost done for the day."
"Oh, good. I just wanted to check on what time you will be home for dinner. And I wondered if Alex is coming with you or is she meeting up with Tom before she comes over?"
"Alex and Tom?" He glanced at his partner as she looked up at the mention of her name. "Uh…dinner?"
"Yes," Annie said. "I talked to her after the funeral…they are coming to dinner tonight. I told you this."
"Yeah…I…uh…I forgot." To Alex, he added, "Dinner at our house tonight."
"Oh…." Alex hesitated. After seeing her husband's killer in prison that day, she wasn't in the mood to socialize. "I…I think I'm going to back out."
"She can't," Annie exclaimed, overhearing her. "I made lasagna this weekend…just for tonight."
"Annie made lasagna," Bobby relayed, his eyes holding Alex's. She sighed wearily and nodded, reaching for her phone to call Tom.
"We'll be there in about an hour," Bobby told Annie. "Tom will meet us there."
"Good."
As it turned out, Alex was glad Annie insisted that she come for dinner. She had missed spending time with her partner's wife and children. She detected a bit of strain, but decided it must be the aftermath of Frances Goren's death. She helped Annie clean up while Bobby and Tom went downstairs so the twins could show them a new video game. Ally retreated to her bedroom with a book. The chatter of the children and now the ordinary hominess of putting dishes in the dishwasher and leftover food in the refrigerator relaxed Alex. Even the sight of Sandy curled up on her bed made the tension seep out of her body, remembering the evening she stood outside the kitchen door with the squirming puppy so that Bobby could surprise his children.
When Annie asked about the case, Alex told her about finding Alfred Minaya's body and going to see Rey Delgado in prison. She also told her that Captain Ross wanted to take her off the case after Minaya's murder and how she had convinced him to let her continue. Bobby and Tom joined them in the living room, leaving the boys to continue playing their game. Bobby poured wine into glasses for himself, Tom, and Alex, getting ice water for Annie. Bobby sat in the chair as Alex and Tom settled on the sofa. Annie joined them on the sofa, with Tom on one side of Alex and Annie on the other.
"Alex," Annie said, "You…you shouldn't work this case."
"Not you too," Alex sighed. "I already went over this with the captain. It's fine…I'm fine."
"You think you're fine, but you are too close to this."
"Annie…." Alex warned, not wanting to argue with her.
"No, listen to me," Annie insisted.
"Annie, Eames knows what she's doing." Bobby's voice was quiet, but firm.
She glanced at him, not wanting to argue with him, not wanting to break the unspoken truce that had been in place since he moved home. But she looked back at Alex and plunged ahead. Tom looked on in silence.
"I know you think you can do this, Alex," she began. "But this is all too close to Joe's death. You think you are coping with it and keeping your emotions under control while you do your job, and then suddenly those emotions just rise up and slam into you and you can't even breathe."
Alex was shaking her head. "I'm a cop, Annie. I'm a professional. I don't let my personal feelings affect how I do my job."
"That's what I thought, too." Annie's voice was low and she deliberately didn't look at Bobby.
"What are you talking about," Alex asked.
Annie hesitated for a moment and then took a deep breath.
"Last October I was working in ER one day and this little girl was brought in. She was really upset…broken arm…I…I took care of her, helped calm her down. She had fallen at school and someone from the school was with her and we were waiting for her parents to get there…and then they did." Annie looked at Alex. "It was Martin Ramsey…he was her father."
"Ramsey? You mean…." Alex hesitated.
"Yes," Annie nodded. "Martin Ramsey…the man who attacked me."
"What did you do?"
"Well…he started apologizing and then his wife recognized me and I thought she was going to cry. But there was this little girl, who didn't know who I was and she was hurt and she needed her parents. And I…I just told him not to worry and I finished taking care of his little girl. And then…" Annie could feel Bobby's eyes on her back. "And then I went to the bathroom and threw up."
"Annie, I'm so sorry," Alex said softy, putting a hand on Annie's hand.
"But…that's not all," Annie continued. "After work, a group of coworkers were going out for a drink and I went with them." She took a deep breath before continuing. "And….I got drunk."
There was stunned silence for a moment as Alex looked at her, eyes wide with surprise.
"Drunk? You?" Alex shook her head. "I don't believe it…..you don't drink."
"No, I don't," Annie agreed. "But I did…that night I did. I was so drunk I could barely stand." Alex didn't answer, but looked at her with skepticism. "It's true, Alex. You can ask Mike Logan."
"Logan?"
"Mike and Sarah came in to that same bar that night and they saw me. And Mike called Bobby…." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "….and Bobby came and took me home."
Incredulous, Alex looked from Annie to Bobby. Annie didn't turn to look at him, but he must have nodded in agreement because Alex looked back at her. They sat in silence for several moments as Alex tried to digest this news.
"Annie, I'm really sorry you went through that," she finally said. "Seeing Rey Delgado today made me want to throw up, too. But what I hear from your story is that it didn't affect your job. You pushed it aside for your patient and you did your job. And I can do my job, too."
"Doing the job isn't the only thing to consider, Alex." Annie's voice was soft. "I'm not worried about your job…I'm worried about you."
"And I appreciate that, I really do. But I'm a big girl and my eyes are open here. I'm going to do my job and I'm going to be fine." Alex squeezed Annie's hand. "I promise."
Annie let it drop and the conversation moved to other areas…safer areas. The children all came to tell Alex and Tom goodbye when they were ready to leave. Annie hugged Alex as the men shook hands. She whispered in her ear to call if she needed to talk. Telling Bobby she would see him in the morning, Alex walked with Tom to the car.
Annie sent the children upstairs to get ready for bed. The boys raced up the stairs, jostling one another. Ally rolled her eyes, clearly communicating the fact that at age fourteen she was obviously too old to be told when to go to bed. But she didn't say it out loud, turning and following her brothers at a more sedate pace. Annie turned to find Bobby sitting in the chair, watching her thoughtfully. She didn't approach, standing nervously by the stairs. He hadn't said anything during her story, hadn't mentioned it since, had barely spoken to her the rest of the evening. She wondered if he was angry. And she wondered if she would ever again be able to read her husband the way she used to. He was such a mystery to her.
"You never told me," he said softly, not bothering to preface his comment. They both knew what he was talking about.
"No," she replied slowly, wiping her hands on her jeans. "We…we weren't really communicating very well. Back then. And then…you came home and we had…more important things to talk about. It…just got….busy, and we've been preoccupied. And I don't really think about it that much anymore."
Bobby nodded. "I didn't make things easy for you."
She wasn't sure what to say to that. "I went to see him."
"Ramsey?"
"Yes…after…after our….argument about….well, I did a lot of thinking and the next day I went to the hospital and I talked to him."
"What did you tell him?"
"That I forgave him. That he has a beautiful d..daughter. That he should take his medicine for her and for his wife. That he should live his life and not waste time feeling guilty."
"Annie," Bobby whispered.
She began to take a step towards him but quiet was shattered by Andrew yelling from upstairs, "Mom! I can't find my pajama bottoms and Phillip won't give me my top!" Which was followed by the sound of wrestling.
"Grow up," came Ally's disdainful voice. "You two are such juveniles!"
Annie smiled sadly and shrugged before turning and heading up the stairs to referee.
"Maybe Annie is right." Tom's voice was soft.
"Don't," Alex said.
"Alex…."
"I mean it…don't. I'm a cop and I'm going to do my job and I'm going to be fine." She took her eyes off the road for a moment to smile at him. Softening her tone she added, "I promise."
"Well," Tom said with a grin. "Just call me if you go out and get drunk after."
Alex shook her head. "I can't believe it. I just can't picture Annie Paine drunk. And I can't believe Bobby never said anything. Of course, he doesn't talk much about Annie anymore."
"I don't think Bobby knew," Tom said thoughtfully.
"Of course he knew…you heard her say that he went and picked her up."
"Yeah…he knew she got drunk. But I was watching your partner's face while Annie was telling her story. I think it's the first time he had heard about Annie seeing Ramsey."
"So, Bobby got a call from Logan telling him Annie was in some bar and was drunk, he goes and gets her and takes her home…but she never told him why she was drinking?" Alex shook her head sadly. "What is going on with those two?"
Bobby sat silently on the bed and watched as Annie prepared for bed. She was surprised when he got in next to her. They lay quietly for several minutes, side by side, staring up at the ceiling. Finally, Bobby turned to face her, propping himself up on his elbow.
"I'm going to have to look at Joe's case file," he said softly.
Annie rolled onto her side to face him, searching for his expression in the dark.
"She's going to be upset," she told him.
Annie could see him nod. "I know."
"Be gentle with her."
Bobby reached out a finger and traced her jaw. Leaning toward her, he gently touched her lips with his. Annie opened her mouth and accepted his kiss with a sigh. His hand slid under her tee shirt to cup her breast. With a moan Annie slid toward him as he rolled on top of her, his knee parting her legs.
"This isn't another one of your puzzles!"
Alex faced her partner, surrounded by the pictures and reports from Joe's murder file. Bobby watched her go from shock when she walked into the interview room to find clippings and pictures of her husband's crime scene on the board and Bobby going through the detectives' notes, to anger that he seemed to doubt Rey Delgado's guilt. "Be gentle with her," Annie had told him. Getting to the office even earlier than usual, he had debated how best to broach the subject with her. He wasn't sure that simply getting the file and putting all of the pictures on display would be what his wife meant by being gentle with her. But after giving it a lot of thought, Bobby realized that no matter how he brought it up, Alex would resist. He decided the argument would be shorter and more to the point if he simply did it and then told her.
Her question, however, reminded him of one his mother had asked not long before she died. "Why do you always do this? Tell me…what is the point?" Truth…that was the point. A painful truth for him back then, a painful truth for his partner now. Was the truth always necessary? Until recently he would have said yes…but now…. Was it important for him to know the truth of his paternity? He had no answer for that. But this truth…this was not only important, it was vital. If an innocent man was in prison while a guilty person walked free….Eames had to know that this truth needed to be revealed, no matter how painful it was for her.
"You know that we have to do this. We've got to do this."
Alex knew what he was saying. Annie warned her that this would be too hard and now Bobby was challenging her. If she couldn't do the job, she needed to tell him now. As he always did, he would pursue the truth with single-mindedness. Not even to spare her pain would he back off. But she knew Bobby. For seven years she had watched him, and she knew that his "puzzles" were never just pure academic curiosity for him. He cared deeply about the pain that his search for truth caused people, yet he never backed off. And he would not back off now, no matter how much he hated causing her pain.
Squaring her shoulders, Alex took a deep breath and gave him a slight nod. She could do this. She would do it.
Tom was making dinner when Alex got to his house after she and Bobby finished booking Manny Beltran. It had been a whirlwind of revelations over the last few days, beginning with Rey Delgado's son confessing to murdering Kevin Quinn and Alfred Minaya out of revenge for his father's conviction. The discovery that the DNA on the cigarette butt found at Joe's murder did not belong to Rey Delgado left Alex's emotions spinning. She had hated him for so long for taking Joe away from her, she had difficulty shifting to the realization he was innocent. The new trail led to an unexpected place and murderer…Alfred Minaya's cousin, now an emergency room doctor. He was young when he killed Joe, no older than Victor Delgado.
The tragic irony of the situation was not lost on Alex. Victor's murder of the two men whose testimony put his father in prison for a crime he didn't commit was the catalyst that caused Bobby and Alex to look at Joe's murder again, and find the real culprit. Rey Delgado had been exonerated and would soon leave prison…and now his son would go to prison for the rest of his life.
Tom's children were with their mother, so he was alone when Alex got there. She found him in the kitchen and he smiled and kissed her. She didn't know if he had heard the news about Beltran's arrest yet.
"I arrested my husband's killer today," Alex said matter-of-factly as she set the table for dinner.
Tom turned to her with a quizzical look, not sure how to answer.
"Annie was right…it was hard."
Tom nodded and said softly, "I'm sorry, baby. But…you were right, too, weren't you? You did your job."
"Nine years is a long time," she continued.
"Yeah," Tom agreed. "It is."
"This case brought up a lot of painful memories."
"I know," he replied softly.
"I loved Joe…I loved him more than my life. When he died….I thought my life was over, too." She looked at Tom and he just nodded silently. "But it wasn't over. I think it's time."
"Time?"
"Time to let go of Joe, of the life we planned together, of the things we wanted but won't ever have. I think it's time to start planning a new life."
Tom's voice was hushed. "A new life?"
"A new life….with you."
"What are you saying, Alex?"
"I'm asking if your offer is still open."
"My offer?"
"Tom Spencer…will you marry me?"
Tom's smile split his face and he strode across the kitchen, catching Alex around the waist and lifting her off her feet.
"Oh baby," he whispered in her ear. "You just tell me the time and the place and I'm there."
End chapter one
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