EXILES
Spoilers for PLAYING DEAD at the start
Chapter One
Alex and Bobby watched the uniforms take Councilman Hayes-Fitzgerald and his mother away. Alex vibrated with anger.
"You don't think he'll get away with it, do you?" she asked.
"No," Bobby said. "We have Stacy…" His eyes focused on the young woman. "We have his wife. We have Sophia. We'll soon have the contract killer. He's already been destroyed. I don't think he'll even try to fight."
An elegantly dressed black woman in her late thirties or early forties entered the room. "Detective Goren," she said warmly. "Is that the young woman?" She nodded towards Stacy.
"Yes, Mrs. Reynolds," Bobby said respectfully. "Thank you for coming. She needs a good friend…And I thought of you." He turned to Alex. "Detective Alex Eames…Marian Sojourner Reynolds…"
Alex shook the women's hand.
"A pleasure, Detective Eames. Anyone who's a friend of Bobby Goren is a friend of mine." She smiled, and Alex thought that if anyone could help Stacy, this woman could. "And Bobby and I have known each other long enough that he should call me by my first name."
Bobby smiled. "Ah, but I'm speaking to you in a professional capacity now…Besides…I love to use your full name."
"That is," Alex said. "Quite a name."
"Well, it's mine," Mrs. Reynolds declared. "Well, the last name is my husband's, but I'm proud to carry it. The rest of it is mine. I wasn't going to keep the ridiculous name I got saddled with at birth. I named myself after two strong women."
"Mar and I," Bobby said quietly. "Met when we were kids…"
"Yea…" Marian smiled at Bobby. "We decided we'd either destroy the world or save it…"
"We went with the second option," Bobby said. "Although the people we work for may wonder about that."
"I don't know about that," Alex said. "Seems to me you keep trying to save a lot of the world that doesn't always want or deserve saving."
Bobby's face blushed. "Uh…Mar…Let me introduce you to Stacy…"
"It's good to know you haven't changed, Bobby," Mar smiled. She followed him into the interrogation room.
"So," Alex asked when Bobby returned. "Who is this woman and what does she do?"
"Mar's a psychologist and lawyer," Bobby answered. "She works as a child advocate. I figured Stacy could use her help."
They walked back to their desks.
"How do you know her?" Alex asked as she sat down.
Bobby stared at his computer screen for several seconds.
"Ok," Alex thought. "I've hit a touchy spot…"
"I've known her a long time," Bobby finally said. "Since we were kids." He hesitated. "You know…That…Things were…Chaotic for me…When I was a kid."
"Yea…"
"I…I spent a little time…Just a little…In foster care…And…And I was lucky. They were good places…Mar…She was one of the kids at one of them. And…And we were…We both loved to read and…We promised each other that we wouldn't give up…That we'd do something to help people…And…" He stopped and stared at his desk. "It sounds kinda silly, I guess…"
Alex watched as Mar gently guided Stacy through Major Case. "No," Alex said softly. "It doesn't sound silly at all."
"If anyone can help Stacy, it'll be Mar," Bobby declared. "She's got a fighting chance now."
"Hey," Alex said. "I want…Need…To get out of here…You owe me several margaritas…"
"Several? I don't think I'm ever going to pay off that debt. I wonder if I should even try," Bobby said.
"You have to make at least a token effort," Alex answered evenly. "C'mon, Bobby…It's been a while since we had some down time together."
"We…Uh…Had coffee…"
"Coffee's different…It's a serious and sober drink," Alex stated. "And if you don't want any alcohol, I'll buy you all the soda you can swallow."
Bobby smiled. "And all of them might equal two of those margaritas…"
"Maybe." Alex returned his smile. "But, really, Bobby…I think we could use a couple of hours. And there's a new place I want to try."
Captain Ross approached their desks. "Why are both of you still here? Go…Get out of here…"
"I'm trying to get us both out of here, Captain," Alex said.
"Uh…The paperwork…" Bobby said.
"Can wait," Ross declared. "Besides…The Chief of Detectives will be down soon for an update."
Bobby winced, and Alex snorted.
"And if he sees one or both or you…" Ross shrugged. "I don't think very much paperwork would get done."
Bobby began shutting down his computer. "I guess I'm buying Eames margaritas tonight. Thank you, Captain, for the warning…And trusting us on the case…"
"It's not hard to trust good detectives," Ross answered. "Now get out of here."
"I'm taking Bobby to Logan's new place," Alex said. "So if you need a drink after dealing with the Chief."
"Logan…Logan has a place?" Bobby handed Alex her coat.
"He really doesn't pay attention to office gossip, does he?" Ross smiled. "If you go there, you might see me later…If they'll let a Captain in…"
Alex and Bobby moved quickly through Major Case to the elevators. They had just stepped into a car when the Chief of Detectives, surrounded by several acolytes, passed in front of them. The doors closed before he saw them.
"Whew," Alex said. "Beat a bullet there…"
"We're still in the building," Bobby said warily.
"We'll have to sneak out past the guards," Alex said. "And while you have many gifts, Bobby, sneaking out is not one of them."
She grinned at him, and Bobby felt a great warmth. It was almost like it was before…before everything.
"This bar you mentioned," Bobby asked uneasily. "Logan owns it? And it's a cop bar?"
"Don't worry," Alex said cheerfully. "Other people own part of it and run it. Logan won't poison us."
The elevator reached the first floor, and they nearly ran through the lobby.
"You didn't drive today, did you?" Alex asked once they were safely outside.
"Uh…No…Eames…"
"I didn't either. Got up early enough to catch the subway." Alex waved, and a cab pulled over. Before Bobby could protest, she opened the door and, with a mock bow, waved for him to get in.
Bobby briefly considered scooting over the back seat, opening the other door and fleeing, but but he stayed put while Alex flopped on the seat and gave the address to the driver.
"Eames," Bobby said uneasily. "You said…I'm not worried about Logan…But…You said it was a cop bar…And…And I'm not always welcomed in those places. Even before…And now…"
"This isn't the usual "cop bar", " Alex said. "Any more than you and me and Logan are the usual cops. At least that's what I've been told."
Bobby shifted uncomfortably.
"Hey…I promise…You don't like it…We'll leave…No strings. Besides…Any place that doesn't want you…I don't want to be in…"
Bobby looked out the cab's window. "There must not be many places Alex wants to be in," he thought.
The cab drive wasn't long. Bobby thought they could've walked if the evening was clearer. The cab pulled up in front of a bar located just below street level. The sign over the entrance still glowed with new paint and bore the word, "Exiles". Bobby and Alex stepped from the cab, and before Bobby could reach for his wallet, Alex paid for the cab.
"I'm forcing you into this," Alex said. "I can at least pay for some of it."
They walked down the few steps to the front door. Bobby hesitated. "Uh…I don't know about this, Eames," he said uneasily.
Alex stood in front of the bar's door. "I told you, Bobby…This isn't the usual cop bar…How could it be if Logan has money in it? And with a name like Exiles?"
Bobby shifted from one foot to the other.
"Look," Alex said patiently. "You know we've been looking for a place where you can buy me a margarita and you can have some of that expensive firewater you like, and unwind after a hard case without running into people who don't want to see us and we don't want to see…"
Bobby stared at his feet.
"I can hear you thinking, Bobby," Alex said. "Look, the same people you don't want to deal with…I don't want to deal with them either."
"You…You shouldn't have to worry."
"Bobby Goren." Alex stepped closer to him. "We've talked about this. If it gets uncomfortable, we'll leave."
"Uh…Ok…"
He followed her into the dark bar and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. It'd been a long time since he'd been in a bar. Since his encounter with Patrick Copa, Bobby preferred to do his drinking at home and alone. And since his return from the purgatory of his suspension, Bobby tried very hard not to drink at all. He measured some of the progress in the repairing of his relationship with Alex with the number and type of food breaks they took together. They had moved from her not growling at him when he placed coffee on her desk to her occasionally smiling as she left a Coke on his, to hurried lunches shared together to actually leaving One Police Plaze for a quiet bite. But facing Alex with alcohol in their systems and a possible lowering of their guards was something Bobby wasn't quite ready for.
He learned a little about the bar during the cab ride. The main partner in the business was a former cop who'd left the NYPD after an on duty injury. This detective knew Munch from SVU, who apparently had some experience with a bar in Baltimore. Logan found out about the bar from the SVU Captain Don Cragen, who had some connection with Logan. Alex wasn't certain about some of the details, but she did know that the three partners wanted the bar to be a place where those unjustly—at least in the trio's eyes—dismissed or discarded or disdained by the NYPD would be welcome. Bobby wasn't sure if he'd be greeted warmly even at a place with those standards, and he felt badly that Alex would even consider herself in any of those categories.
His eyes adjusted to the light, and Bobby picked up details of the interior. Roughly a dozen booths occupied the wall to Bobby's left. The bar filled the wall to his right. It was well stocked, with at least a half dozen brands of Scotch and an equal number of Irish whiskies. Bobby dimly recalled that Logan fancied himself something of an expert regarding whiskey, and Bobby had no reason to doubt this and some to believe it was true, so he suspected the selection was a good one. There were at least six beers on tap, none of them the usual ones found in a bar. There seemed to be an equally varied and extensive selection of other spirits.
"C'mon," Alex said. "Let's go to the back…"
The more Bobby saw of the bar, the more he liked it. It was fairly free of clutter, with only a few photos of police boxing and baseball leagues showing the owners' ties with the NYPD. The booths were full, and several people stood at the bar. Bobby recognized several cops, but none of them regarded him with any hostility. The few who seemed to recognize him gave him friendly nods.
"Alex Eames!" The small crowd around the bar parted enough to allow the bartender to reach across the highly polished wood to shake Alex's hand. He was about sixty, Bobby guessed, but a good sixty. His grey hair was thick, and, if he had been a cop, as Bobby suspected, he looked as if he could still walk a beat.
"Hey, Joe," Alex said warmly as she grasped the man's hand. "Looks like things are going well."
Bobby hovered behind Alex. He never knew what he should do in these situations, and he inevitably either charged ahead like an elephant or hung back like an awkward shadow, giving the impression he was an idiot or a snob.
"Things are good," Joe said genially. "But I have to say that having a detective from the Major Case Squad really lifts the level of our customers."
"Detectives," Alex grinned. "Joe…Meet my partner Bobby Goren. Bobby…Joe Mantello…Former NYPD sergeant…Middleweight Police League Boxing Champ three years in a row…And maker of the finest margaritas this side of the Mexican border."
"Goren." Mantello extended a large hand across the bar. "Logan has said great things about you." The older man's grip was worthy of an ex-boxer. "And anyone who can handle Alex Eames as a partner must be a good and tough guy."
"That…That's high praise," Bobby said. "But…It's really more of a case of Alex handling me."
Joe grinned, Alex smiled, and Bobby felt enormously relieved that he'd said the right thing.
"You want one of those margaritas, Alex?" Joe asked. "And what can I get for you, Bobby?"
"Yea, Joe, I will," Alex said. "And Bobby would like some of your best Scotch."
"On the rocks or straight up?" Joe asked as he turned toward the bottles.
"On the rocks," Bobby said. He watched as Joe moved gracefully behind the bar. "You like bartending…"
"Always have," Joe replied. "Always did it on the side. Helped put two of my kids through college. Truth is…Logan and Munch don't know they're funding my hobby."
"They good partners?" Alex asked.
"Yea…They leave the bar to me…My son Tony…One of those kids I got through college…He's an accountant with a big firm, but says this is a lot more fun…Handles the books. Munch actually has some experience with this. He owned part of place in Baltimore…The only real problem so far is Logan wants to give away too many free drinks." Joe smiled as he handed Bobby and Alex their drinks. "But we've managed to persuade him we need to make some money."
"Logan around?" Alex asked.
Joe nodded. "In the back. That kid that used to be his partner…Wheeler…She's here…Plays some weird stuff on the jukebox, but she's a nice kid. But she can't be as young as she looks."
"If she were as young as she looks," Alex said. "She couldn't come in here." She sipped her drink. "You still have the touch, Joe."
Joe smiled. "Always good to hear."
Bobby started to reach for his wallet, but Alex moved faster. She handed Joe several bills. "Keep the change," she said. "I'm going to show my partner the rest of the bar."
"Don't let him get hustled by the sharks back there," Joe said. "And don't you do any hustling yourself."
"Only if I'm challenged," Alex answered. "C'mon, Bobby."
She led Bobby past the end of the bar to a small incline. To the left were the restrooms, on the wall to their right was a sign reading, "If you have trouble walking up or down, maybe you should stop." Beyond the incline, the bar opened into a large room. It was more brightly lit than the front room, and Bobby blinked as they entered. Two pool tables graced the left side of the room, and Bobby saw a broken pool cue encased in a plastic frame on the wall next to one of them. There were more tables and booths in the rest of the room. Framed newspapers and photos covered the walls, most dealing with NYPD triumphs and New York City sports victories.
"Bobby Goren!"
Bobby, with some trepidation, turned in the voice's direction. "Oh, no," he thought. "Who…"
END CHAPTER ONE
