Chapter Two
Alex carefully eased her car into the tiny space. Her parallel parking skills, always remarkably good, had improved since her departure from the NYPD. She could no longer depend on her badge providing access to parking forbidden to civilians. She'd never depended on her badge for that sort of privilege, but she acknowledged knowing it was there in case of an emergency had been a comforting thought.
To her surprise, several things had improved since her departure. She hadn't had time to update her resume before several job offers came. She took one from her former captain because she knew she would be comfortable working with and for Jimmy Deakins, and if another position appeared she could leave with few complications. To her shock, the pay was better than what the city of New York considered her worth. Combined with Joe's pension and the settlement her union rep got for her after she threatened to reveal the circumstances surrounding Alex's departure from the NYPD, the salary meant Alex sat in a very comfortable financial nest. The hours of her new job were regular, and she enjoyed weekly dinners with her family and got to attend her nephew Nate's basketball games, school functions, and hang out with the boy. She reached her own bed at roughly the same hour every night and read several books that had been waiting for her on her bedside table. She discovered some of the television programs her sisters and sisters in law had raved about, and she even went out on things that might be described as dates with thoroughly respectable men who had nothing to do with New York City's criminal element.
And she was unhappy.
Well, Alex thought as she gathered up her purse and locked her car, not horribly unhappy, but certainly not content. She missed the NYPD. It was her family. She'd dreamed of being a New York cop since she could remember. One of her first appearances in the family photo album showed her wrestling with the cap from her father's uniform. She knew she did the right thing in leaving the department. She explained—continued to explain—her reasons to anyone who asked, to her family, her friends, to other members of the NYPD. In recent months, as the ties between Frank Adair and Kenny Moran became clear, and Kenny Moran sank in the swamp of his own muck, Alex couldn't help but feel some vindication. But this gave her little joy. For all that it done to her, to her family, to Bobby Goren, Alex Eames loved the NYPD and hated to see it suffer.
And she missed being a detective. She knew she would've hated being a captain. It would've taken her away from being a detective. No more investigations, no more interviews with suspects, no more dirty work like dumpster diving, no more agonizing visits to survivors—things she didn't miss. But there were other things—saving people, busting perps, solving problems—that she loved and missed terribly. And she especially missed working with Bobby Goren. She meant what she'd said the last time she saw Bobby. He was the best. The most brilliant, the hardest working, the most ethical cop she'd ever known. And the kindest, most compassionate, best man she'd ever known. Her father, her brothers, her late husband were all good men, but none fought the odds Bobby Goren had. It was that fight, Alex thought, that turned Bobby Goren into a remarkable man. It had nearly destroyed him, and it continued to assault him, but it had made him. And she missed him. Missed him terribly.
The arrival of his first letter, enclosed in a plain white envelope that she almost mistook for a bill or an annoying request for money thrilled her. She responded to it almost immediately, and for the past months the sporadic appearances of Bobby's letters were the brightest spots in her life. He said little in the letters—Alex sensed there were many things he couldn't and wouldn't say—and the first ones were filled with his apologies for ruining her life. These comments finally eased after Alex repeatedly wrote that he wasn't responsible for her decision.
"It was a sign, Bobby," she wrote him several times in several ways. "You weren't responsible. It was Moran. Or Massa. Or a whole lot of someones and somethings."
She didn't write Bobby about the calls from Massa and other members of the Brass pleading with her to return. She didn't write him about her occasional coffee sessions with Zach Nichols, where the tall, lanky detective revealed his increasing disenchantment with the NYPD and police work. And she revealed only a few details of the turmoil in the department. She was always happy when one of the blank, anonymous looking envelopes containing Bobby's letters arrived. The sheets—often only a single sheet—were frequently battered, suggesting they'd been through rough handling. The one that pleased her the most informed her that Bobby's mission was over and he was returning to New York. He couldn't give her a date, but he promised he'd call her as soon as he arrived, that is if she wanted to talk to him. She responded immediately with a letter of her own telling him that of course she wanted to speak to him, to see him, and sent it to the PO Box all of her past letters went.
She'd returned from a wonderful weekend with her nephew Nate to find her answering machine blinking at her. She sighed and briefly considering ignoring the machine. It was probably some solicitations, maybe a few calls from headhunters, or, worst of all, guys asking her out on dates. But she finally punched the red button, and her heart jumped at the sound of Bobby's voice.
"Uh...Al...Eames...Uh...I'm back...And...You said you wanted to see me. I know I want to see you. A lot. And...I...I have something I'd like to talk to you about. But...Uh...Mostly I'd like...Really like to see you. My cell is still the same number."
Alex smiled at Bobby's familiar, hesitant, shy voice. "He never wants to upset anyone," she thought. "Which is why he upsets people sometime."
She forgot her bags, including the one filled with dirty and soggy clothes (much of the past three days had been spent chasing Nate around a water park), and how tired she was, and found her cell phone. She punched Bobby's number—she'd never removed it from her phone, even when she was furious with him during and after his suspension—and waited for it to ring.
Bobby picked up at the end of the second ring.
"Eames...Thank you for calling back." His voice was husky and anxious.
"It was great to hear your voice. It is great to hear it."
She heard something that sounded like a stifled yawn.
"I'm sorry," Alex said. "Did I wake you up?"
"Yea, but don't worry. I'd rather hear from you than sleep. And I've got to get my body back on New York time."
"How long have you been back?"
"Just a couple of days." Alex could see him rubbing the back of his neck in her mind. "God, it's good to hear you."
"It's good to hear you again too. And I'd really like to see you again."
"Same here."
"I'm free tomorrow. Would breakfast at that diner near your place work?"
"Right now, I'm free." She saw his wistful smile in her mind. "What time?"
Alex calculated how long it would take to get her laundry done and try to get enough sleep. "Ten?"
"Dangerously close to brunch."
"I don't think that place serves anything quite as rich as brunch," Alex laughed. "But its breakfasts are wonderful."
"Ok. I'll see you there about ten," Bobby said. "I...I missed you."
"I missed you too." Alex tightly gripped her phone. "I'm glad you're back, Bobby."
"Thank you, Alex," Bobby said after several moments. His voice was soft and husky. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Alex replayed the conversation through her head as she did her laundry and tried to sleep. She left early to make her meeting with Bobby, and it was nine thirty when she eased into the parking spot. She wasn't surprised to discover Bobby waiting for her in the diner. He sat at a booth in the back, close to the emergency exit and with a clear view of most of the diner. A newspaper and a magazine were open on the table next to a cup of coffee. Responding to their ESP link, Bobby looked up just as Alex walked through the door. He smiled as he stood, and Alex's heart fluttered.
She studied him as she walked towards him. He was leaner than she remembered, tanned, and his hair longer. He wore an elegant navy blue suit that was a shade too big for him. He was clean shaven, but his hair just long enough to show off his curls. It was the way she liked his hair. He looked good in spite of the dark circles under his eyes and the anxiety rippling under his skin.
"Bobby." She was inches from him and she didn't know what to do. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to hold him and make sure he was solid and real, but she didn't know what he wanted.
"Eames. God...You look great. Really great."
He extended his hand. Alex took it, hesitated, and then wrapped her arms around him as far as they would go. He stiffened, and then wrapped his arms around her. Alex let his strength and scent and presence flood over and around her.
"Hate to break this up, guys, but do you want something to eat?" The waitress grinned at them.
Their cheeks red, Bobby and Alex separated. They ordered breakfast and waited in an uneasy silence for their food. There was so much to say, and neither of them knew how to say it.
Bobby finally leaned forward. "How's Nate? He must be in regular school now, right?"
Alex beamed, and pulled out her cell phone to show the most recent photos of her nephew. Her account of Nate's activities and accomplishments continued through their food's arrival and two quarters of the way though Alex's pancakes.
"I'm sorry," Alex said. "I'm monopolizing the conversation."
"It's all right," Bobby said. He dipped his spoon in and out of his oatmeal. "I'm glad he's doing so well."
"You trying to eat healthy?" Alex nodded at the bowl.
"Uh...Yea..."
"It's ok?"
"It's not bad. It's just...Where I've been the past few months. This would feed someone for at least a day."
"You having some trouble adjusting to this world?"
"A little," he admitted. "I mean...I'm glad. Really glad...I'm back. Being able to sleep in a real bed with clean sheets and pillows. And seeing you again." He smiled. "But it's a bit of an adjustment." He shrugged. "But I've been through this sort of thing before. 'Course, I was younger the last time."
Alex leaned forward. "Didn't they give you some time to decompress?"
"They had to get me out pretty quick," Bobby said. "I can tell you that Mr. Hassan is no longer a factor in anyone's plans."
"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better," Alex said.
"I have to admit that I think the world is a better place without Hassan," Bobby said. "Although there will probably be lots of people willing to take his place. I think the news about Hassan made Zach Nichols feel better."
"When did you see Nichols?"
"London. They let me out there for a while when I was being debriefed. I'm not sure who Nichols knew, but he knew I was there and wanted to see me. We had a good lunch. He said you were one of the best captains he'd ever seen."
Alex smiled. "Considering I was only a captain for fifteen minutes, I don't know if that's a compliment."
Bobby smiled sadly. "I think it was. He said you showed more guts in those few minutes than most cops do in their entire careers."
Alex stared at her plate. Her hair fell and created a veil over her face. "The captain of the Major Case Squad has had a high turnover rate lately."
"Did you know the last captain?"
"In passing. She was in one of the women's officer groups for a while. But she got some assignment that took her out of the loop. I think she was something like Ross. She knew Moran before he became, well, whatever he became. I don't think she was one of his allies."
"Nichols liked her," Bobby said. "But he thought she was under a lot of pressure, and not just because of the job."
"I've been out of the loop for a while," Alex said. "I was out of town for a while on a job. Not as glamorous as yours..."
"Mine was glamorous only if you like sand without beaches," Bobby sighed.
"I haven't heard who the new captain is. Except some rumblings that some of the Brass wants Jimmy Deakins back," Alex said.
Bobby stirred his oatmeal again. "We both know that isn't going to happen."
Alex studied him. "You've been in the city for what, forty eight hours, and you know something?"
Bobby shifted in his seat. "The person...He contacted me actually. I know I never talked much about my other partners..."
"No. And when you did, it wasn't good usually.."
"Well, you more than made up for all of the bad ones," Bobby said quickly. "But I had a great partner in Narcotics. Bill Hannah."
"The guy you saved when you got your Medal of Honor."
Bobby blushed and lowered his eyes, always his reaction whenever any of his heroics were mentioned. "It wasn't that big a deal."
"It was a very big deal," Alex stated. "I've looked it up. My union rep looked it up when she was dealing with the Brass."
Bobby looked distinctly uncomfortable.
"You should've pushed it, Bobby," Alex continued. "Maybe you should still. What with everything that's come out about Moran lately."
"You didn't push," Bobby said quickly. "And you had better reasons to. I pushed...Broke the rules enough times."
"I threatened to push," Alex said. "And that was enough to save my pension. That, and it doesn't look good to persecute the widow of a hero cop. Especially when the hero's cop murder was bungled so badly."
"And I didn't burn my bridges completely," Bobby said, trying to change the subject. "Do you ever think about going back?"
"As badly as you were treated, you'd think about going back?"
"If the conditions were right," Bobby said carefully. "Major Case...Working with you at Major Case...It was the best. In spite of the politics and the pressure, it was great."
Alex examined him closely. "Ok," she said "What's going on?"
"Bill Hannah's the new Major Case captain. "And he wants me there."
Alex straightened. "Wow."
"I...I would've come to you first," Bobby said. "But you were out of town and..."
"Bobby." Alex leaned forward and touched his hand. "It's ok. You don't have to report in with me." Her hand rested on his. "What did you tell him?"
Bobby took a deep breath. "I told him I'd come back. But only if you came back too. To be my partner."
END Chapter TWO
