Chapter 1 - Moments Pass
Detective Robert Goren sat his desk, typing, amazed as always, how months of endless research and planning could lead up to one moment of vindication. The moment passes; verdicts are read and congratulations and thanks are extended, then it's back to the office to fill out the never-ending mounds of paperwork. Rubbing his tired eyes, he glanced over to the clock. Three in the morning? Rubbing a hand roughly over his face, Bobby silently hoped he didn't look as bad as he felt.
"Well, maybe you should go home, Detective," said a voice from behind.
Bobby nearly covered his start, but not the stuttering of his heart. "Hey, Captain." He drew a quick calming breath. "I could say the same thing to you. It's three o'clock in the morning."
But the captain stood there and said nothing. Danny Ross stood, with his hands in his pockets, and a wry smile on his face. Finally he said, And your reason for still being here is…?"
"You know how it is; there's no point going home now." Forty-five minutes to get home, then an hour of tossing and turning...
Ross smiled wistfully, "There's always a point in going home, detective." Even now that he was divorced and the boys rarely stayed the night, there was still a point in going home.
Bobby watched the man saunter out, hands in pant pockets. Just before Ross turned the corner to the elevators, he yelled back over his shoulder. "Go home, detective. Go home."
After catching himself dozing a third time, he stood, and decided to take a walk. Once outside, the crisp March night air revived his spirit and re-energized his thinking. A little colder than I thought, he said to himself as he paced in front of the nearly dark entrance of 1PP. He decided a brisk walk to warm up was called for. There was a small park nearby, and found his favorite bench thankfully free of transients. Letting the cool air wash over him, he watched clouds drifting across the moon, a few cars speeding by, and even a few late revelers staggering home.
As his eyes drifted over the park, he spotted movement on the far side of the park. A lone figure stepped out of the shadow of a tree as a long black car limo drove up and stopped. Man, I hope this is just a guy waiting for his ride. But he suspected darker motives. Deciding it would attract less attention to stay where he was than race for cover to observe the scene playing out before him, he stayed seated on his favorite bench.
Under the dim light of a nearby street lamp, the man stood still at the curb with his hands at his sides. He seemed hesitant and nervous. He stiffly bent to speak through the partially open window. The passenger doors opened, and two men stepped out. One had hair almost as pale as his skin in the moonlight; the other had dark hair. The first man reached slowly into his jacket, pulling out a slip of paper. Bobby watched the dark-haired man closely as he snatched the paper out of the other's hand. Dark Hair nodded to White Hair, and the trunk came open. White Hair held a flashlight, shining it inside the trunk.
Scanning the park once again, Bobby stood and moved slowly to the nearest tree, thankful that the moon was setting, making him less noticeable. Laying stiff, now cold fingers against the rough bark, he closed his eyes to concentrate on their voices. However, they either said nothing or he wasn't close enough to hear. He assumed the former concluding that the transaction continued silently. Opening his eyes, he watched as a duffle bag was lifted from the trunk. Bobby thought suddenly, Why am I here? I don't need more paperwork. What the hell is going on here? But curiosity kept him rooted in place.
Dark Hair held out the duffle to the first man, letting it slip from his fingers. Don't fall for it! Bobby silently warned. Even though it was cliché, it was still effective. White Hair came up behind the kneeling man, clipping him just below the ear. He went down, but was still conscious.
Bobby reached for his weapon, still not sure what was going on with this odd meeting in the dark. Then, from the open door of the car, a female figure appeared briefly and her laughter drifted out. "... I got it all!" she triumphantly said, as the Dark Hair and White Hair raised the other man off his knees. He rubbed his head. "Not so hard next time..."
Then man with white hair briefly stared in the direction of Bobby's hiding spot. He can't see me, right? But there was something about his manner that made the detective shudder. Finally, he turned his attention to his friends who were now laughing. "No one saw us, man," someone said. "Don't worry about it." Climbing into the car, they sped away.
Cursing himself for watching this piece of bad melodrama, the agent took a deep breath and leaned against the tree, filing the whole scene away in the back of his mind. Gazing up at the lightening sky, he sighed heavily before walking back towards the office with a new resolve to finish his paperwork. He wasn't sure he'd share this incident with anyone.
#
Alex Eames came into the office building, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She felt triumphant, invincible. She'd spent the previous evening taking care of her nephew and he'd deemed her his 'favorite aunt'. Stopping to lean a hip on her partner's desk, she said loudly, "Mornin', Detective Goren!"
No response. He sure is cute when he's asleep. She then immediately banished the thought from her mind and her memory. Reaching over to give him a gentle shake, she said quietly, "Bobby, you should wake up now." This time, a low moan was her answer.
After another moment, his eyelids fluttered. He began to stir slowly, working out the kink in his neck. "What time is it?"
"Later than you think, Bobby." Alex sat on the edge of the desk. "You know, this is, like, the third time I've found you like this. Did you get evicted or something?" When he blushed, she gave him a knowing smile and a pat on the back. "Was all that paperwork really so important?"
Bobby scrubbed his hands over his pale face, and up through his hair. "Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time." He glanced quickly around the office. No one here just yet. In that case...
"Yes, you have time to go upstairs and grab a shower." Alex said as she moved away from the desk. "Shirt's in the bottom drawer, and ties are…"
"I know, I know..." He tried avoiding her searching eyes. "I know where everything else is too," he said to answer her unsaid statement. "And, no, I haven't looked in a mirror lately."
She gave a quick laugh. "Are you reading my mind?" Moving away, Alex glanced around the office. "Well, your secret's safe with me. I'll make some coffee. And," she began, pointing at his chosen tie. "Don't ever wear that tie again. In fact, throw it away." Then she marched towards the small break room, laughing.
"What? This tie?" Bobbyn tried to look hurt as she berated his fat, outdated tie. "I thought maybe it would make a come back. It's nowhere near as bad as Logan's plaid ones."
"I agree, Bobby. Get rid of it." Wheeler popped up behind him to put in her two cents. Neither of them had noticed Wheeler dome in. "For that matter, it's really time for a new pair of shoes. But I agree with you about Logan's plaid ties." She gave a lopsided smile, and a wink then walked quickly to her desk.
"Is this 'smackdown on Bobby day'?" He threw the tie back into the drawer, and pulled out another, along with an electric razor. Once safely upstairs in the locker room he shook out the neatly folded and pressed shirt. Gotta get to the cleaners, he thought absently. As he took off the shirt he was wearing, Bobby noticed his reflection. Wow, I guess I do look bad. A shadowed, unshaven face, and a sad smile gazed back at him. Splashing very cold water on his face, he dried and shaved quickly. A few minutes later, fully dressed, he tightened his tie and smoothed out his hair. One last glance in the mirror showed the same pale, tired face; only now, at least, it was shaven.
Bobby took a deep breath, ready for the beating he would take from the Captain. When he returned to his desk, he found a hot cup of coffee and a glazed doughnut. Where did she find it? Another cliché, but a tasty one.
As he took a sip and a bite, Danny Ross breezed past him. "Detective Goren, I'm looking forward to your report. Where's your partner?" Bobby gave a little smile, wondering why he was so nervous. The bust went off without a single hitch. The paperwork mostly finished. There was nothing to worry about. Maybe somebody will get a pay grade increase out of this.
Entering the small conference room, he took several deep breaths. Ross was a very intense, direct person; there would be no mincing of words. He gestured to the two detectives to take chairs. "Both the DA's office and the Chief are very impressed with your work on this one detectives. McCoy says they have a solid case, and should have no problem convicting DeMarco and his accomplices. Nice job."
Well, that wasn't so bad. "Thank you, sir. Eames found the last piece of evidence that led us to put everything together." Was that enough? He ran through his memory for any other details. He remembered everything about the case from the beginning. The tip, the follow-up, and the endless hours researching the paper trail. And one pesky little weapon that started it all. As the entire library of information flashed through his memory, Bobby closed his eyes as the headache bloomed behind his eyes. When he opened them, he saw the Captain staring at him with a strange expression on his face.
Twitching his brows together, Ross folded his hands, placing them on the desk. "Just one more thing," he said quietly.
Bobby's heart stuttered. What now? "Ask away, sir," he said, unsure of the outcome.
Not often did he express any outward emotion, other than the utmost control. "I'm just wondering when the last time you slept was?"