COLLECTIVE: MISSING SCENES

(This fic assumes that Alex knew little about Frank at the time of this episode.)

"What people will pay money for." Alex shook her head as she maneuvered the SUV through the Philadelphia streets.

"Uh?" Bobby lifted his head up from his study of his notes.

"The NYPD can't afford to fly us to Philly, but guys can spend thousands of dollars on old toys," Alex complained.

"If flying means stuffing myself into economy," Bobby commented. "I'll take the car. And it's only a two hour drive…But…then…I'm not driving…"

"And I'm not going to let you," Alex declared. "Did you really crash a cruiser on your first week on the job?"

Bobby sighed. "It was the first month, and I didn't crash it. A perp fleeing the scene ran into me." He didn't add that he'd also spent a week in the hospital recovering from his injuries or that he received a citation and promotion for his quick thinking and bravery. It was the first of several transfers he received in his career.

Alex grinned. "That's the sort of thing that can haunt a guy. I'm surprised you didn't get a nickname like "Crash"."

"I guess I'm the kind of guy who doesn't get nicknames," Bobby said.

Alex briefly wondered about Bobby's comment before she spoke again. "I talked to Deakins," she said. "It doesn't look like the cops involved in the shooting are going to be charged with anything. Their testimony…What the neighbors said…What we found out…"

"They still have to live with the fact they shot a guy for nothing more than a toy," Bobby said. "These aren't cowboy cops…They all have good records. I think I would've taken a shot in that situation."

"I don't know about that…You really hate pulling your piece…"

"Yea," Bobby admitted. "But with someone screaming…What sounded like a gunshot…Guy waving what looked like a gun…I'd be shooting. Whoever set Arnie up killed him just as if she pulled the trigger."

"Bad enough to have suicide by cop," Alex said. "Now we've got murder by cop."

"Yea," Bobby sighed. "I hope we can find this woman. Having her would help the cops' case. She's been pulling these scams for a long time…And now she's graduated to murder."

"Poor Arnie…I wonder why he fell for it…I mean…She was out of his league…"

"Eames…She was beautiful…She was smart…She pretended to love what he loved. She was the girl he never dared to dream of."

"And as naïve as he was…He didn't have a chance." Alex deftly changed lanes and moved into the entrance to the New Jersey Turnpike. "But the toy…All these toys…Why did they mean so much to him?"

"Obsessions like that happen. Sometimes they're good things. My friend Lewis…" Bobby smiled at Alex. "Who still asks me for your phone number every time I see him. I tell him I can't since you're my professional partner. He's always been crazy about cars. Hot Wheels when he was little, models when he was older. He turned it into a very good business. I had a friend in the Army who was a computer wiz and crazy about STAR TREK. He works for NASA now, and tells me that nearly every engineer there was a STAR TREK fan when they were kids. Pointed them toward outer space. A lot of them are still crazy about the show."

"I obviously don't meet the right Trekkies," Alex said wryly.

"Obviously some of these things can be bad. Someone like Arnie…The toys probably represented the best part of a bad childhood. The toys didn't pick on him, didn't hurt him. For other people, it's a chance to be part of a group…To not be alone…It can bring some people out of their shells…But others…Within the group, they become the people they hate outside of it. They become competitive. Or…Like Arnie…They get lost…And then you get the people who exploit these obsessions…Like the store owner or the woman we're looking for…"

"Ah," Alex said as she accelerated. "Open road for a bit…What I don't understand…I got stuff that's important to me…But it's important because it's associated with people and events…Not because the thing is important…"

"But if you don't have people in your life," Bobby said. "And you never have…Things can become very important to you."

Several miles passed before Alex chuckled.

"What?" Bobby looked up and tried to remember what he'd done or said recently that could make Alex laugh. He liked to remember things that made her laugh.

"The store owner…The fun you had with that gun…What was it called?"

"The Johnny Seven…"

"Yea…You must have loved that gun when you were a kid…"

She glanced at him when he didn't respond. He stared out the passenger door window, and Alex was sure the scenery wasn't that interesting.

"I'm sorry," Alex said. "Did I say something…"

"No…No…It's just…It wasn't my gun…It was my brother's…I probably spent more time with that toy today than I ever did with Frank's…"

"Oh…The brother is real and he has a name," Alex said.

"You…You thought I made him up…"

"Well…You didn't mention him for so long…" Alex sensed she treaded on thin ice. "And then you never mentioned his name…And I thought if he did live…He'd be helping with your Mom…I'm sorry, Bobby…I'm butting in…"

"It's…It's ok…" Bobby waved a large paw. "My brother…He's…"

A terrible thought struck Alex. "He…He's not dead…"

"No…No…At least I don't think he is…It's been a very long time…A couple of years…Since I saw him…Or heard from him…There's a part of me…That wouldn't be surprised…If he was dead…"

Alex clutched the steering wheel. She struggled to understand how the kind, gently Bobby Goren she knew—the man who drove four hours roundtrip every week to visit and help his sick mother; who showed more compassion to victims and even some perps than any cop she'd ever known—could be out of contact with his own brother. She couldn't imagine not seeing or knowing where any of her brothers and sister were for a week, let alone for two years.

"He…Frank…Was…Is, as far as I know…An addict. Drugs, alcohol, gambling, women…" Bobby continued to stare out the window. "Please…I don't want you to think that I'm this cold monster…It's just…I've helped him so many times. Gave him money. Gotten him in rehab…I've had "visits" from people he owed money…Most people…I know I don't have to explain…It doesn't matter…But it does with you…"

"I know you, Bobby," Alex said after a moment. "And I know what addicts can be like…Sometimes…You just have to give up…He…He knows about your Mom…"

There was another silence of several miles, and Alex thought Bobby wouldn't answer.

"He got away as soon as he could," Bobby finally spoke. "He mostly lived with our father…When I joined the Army, he said he'd take care of her. He was supposed to have this great job and money. I sent money home. Mom and Frank wrote me and said they needed it. One of the reasons I left the Army…I came home on leave…And I couldn't find Mom…I finally found her living on the street…Frank…Frank had stolen all of her money…Her possessions. He was cashing her checks and using the money…I…I had to take care of her…Being off her meds and living so badly…It really hurt her…He's been back around sometimes…But not for a long time…But if he came back and really wanted to get better…I'd help him, Eames…I'd help him in a heartbeat…But…I can't risk…I have to think of my Mom…"

He didn't turn away from the window while he spoke.

"I understand, Bobby," Alex said. "Thank you for trusting me."

"It's just…" Bobby swallowed and finally turned to her. "A lot of people…Don't understand. Especially if they've just met Frank. He's very charming. Very bright. I was always this awkward hulking thing."

"Frank…Frank was …"

"The Golden Boy." Bobby sighed. "Always my Dad's favorite. My Mom thinks he's wonderful…"

"How can she? You're the one who takes care of her…"

"The one who put and keeps her in the hospital," Bobby said. "The one who keeps her from doing what she wants. The one who keeps Frank from seeing her." Bobby shrugged. "It happens a lot with people who don't have mental illnesses—blaming the caregiver—so when you have someone who's paranoid…well…"

"I…I knew things were tough for you, Bobby," Alex said gently. "But I had no idea how tough…I'm sorry that I pried…"

"You didn't," he said quickly. "After all, I know about your family. Although they're much more respectable…" He smiled sadly. "I should've told you about Frank sooner, if only to warn you. He's approached my friends and people I work with before…"

"Well…Now I've been warned," Alex said.

"I don't know where he is…I haven't heard from him in so long," Bobby said. "He has a way of showing up at the worst times…"

"And he didn't let you play with his toys," Alex said.

"This is what it was like." Bobby turned to face her. "The Johnny Seven gun…He broke it about a week after he got it…Actually, he broke it smashing it up against me when I wouldn't be the target for him. He left me standing in the middle of all the broken pieces while he ran off to tell our dad I broke it."

"Your dad…"

"Believed Frank, of course."

Alex looked at Bobby. He'd returned to staring out the window. "I think it's remarkable you're still willing to give him a chance."

Bobby turned back to her. "I'm sorry…That toy…Brought back a lot…Not good. Like I said…Objects can carry a lot with them.

He returned to his study of the case notes. As she drove the SUV closer to New York, Alex tried to assemble these new pieces into the puzzle of Bobby Goren.

END