The next day both Gorens showed up to work ready to tackle the Smith case. Alex sat at her desk as Bobby was introduced to the SVU detectives.
"Eliot Stabler," said the detective. "This is my partner Olivia Benson."
"Nice to meet you," he said, shaking his hand. He walked over to Alex's desk. "This is my wife, Alex."
"Hi," she said, turning around to face them.
"Hey," said Olivia. "You expecting?"
"Yeah," she said, "The baby's due in about three weeks."
"We'd better get started," said Eliot, opening his case file. All detectives sat down and started talking; they compared notes and one fact was clear: Mary was no saint.
"It seems like all she did was go to parties and get drunk," said Olivia, twirling her short hair on her index finger. "Talk about a wasted life."
"No kidding." Eliot took out some receipts. "Bars and clubs in Soho, Little Italy, near Times Square…she got around."
"Do you think that she knew her attacker?" Alex asked. "If she went club hopping that much she must have met a string of interesting men."
"Eliot, what do you think?" Olivia started flipping through charts. "Her tox screen showed positive for LSD, heroin, and alcohol."
Eliot stood up to look over her shoulder. "She must have left for her home after partying, seen her attacker, he murder's her-"
"I'm not so sure," said Bobby, flipping through the file.
Alex looked in their direction. "Here he goes…"
Bobby stopped flipping. "According to this, all of the victims had some type of mental disorder; Mary Smith was no different."
"Do you think that she was depressed?" asked Alex.
"No," said Bobby, "she had ADD. There was no way she would have left her drink anywhere."
"Then how did she get LSD in her system?" Olivia asked.
"My guess is that she took it on purpose," Alex said.
"She didn't only know her attacker," Bobby said, looking up from the case file, "she knew what he had done; she was trying to frame him."
"You always figure these things out in a few minutes?" asked Eliot, amused.
"Only when he imagines he's Sherlock Holmes," said Alex, grinning.
"I'm the same way," said Olivia, smiling as well, "after I drink my coffee."
Eliot laughed. "It's true; Olivia's a mess before she has a cup."
"Thanks Eliot," she said, winking, "I appreciate that."
Alex laughed as well. "You'd better go check out the club she was at that night," she said, reaching inside the case file, "the Club Daiquiri."
"Let's get on it," said Olivia, and she, Eliot, and Bobby headed for the elevator.
CICICICICICICICICICICI
Bobby watched Eliot and Olivia in the elevator and on the way to the club, analyzing the differences in both partner's professional relationships. Eliot and Olivia were less formal with each other, calling each other by their first names and casually flirting. They were doing all of the things that Bobby had wished he could have done with Alex before they had gotten intimate, which made him wonder at Benson and Stabler's interesting relationship.
They got to Club Daiquiri and entered the premises. Two guards stood inside the double doors. "I.D." said one buff and brazened man.
"This work?" said Olivia, holding up her badge.
"Come in," said a voice behind the men. A tall, busty woman stepped out from behind the guards. "I'm Sherry. I run the place."
As Olivia talked with the owner Eliot and Bobby walked over to the bar where two attractive brunette bartenders were cleaning shot glasses for the night's party. Eliot flashed his badge as they were approaching. "Hey," he said, "did you two work here last week Wednesday?"
"No," said one, looking up from her work, "I wasn't, but Alyssa was."
"Thanks, Rachael." The other girl looked to Bobby. "Why do you want to know?"
"One of the girls who came that night was murdered," he said, looking to Eliot.
"Yeah, you seen her?" Eliot pulled out a picture and held it up.
Alyssa looked at the picture for a second and then looked down and picked up another shot glass. "No, I didn't," she said, avoiding their eyes.
"Look," Eliot said, "It's obvious that you're hiding something and eventually we're going to figure it out, so I suggest that you take another look at that photo and try again."
"We know her," said Rachael, putting her hand on Alyssa's shoulder. "She used to work here before she was deployed."
"Why did she come back that night," asked Bobby. Rachael shrugged her shoulders. Bobby walked up to the counter. "She had drugs in her system that night, you know," he said, picking up a shot glass from the other side of the bar by reaching over the table. "Obviously, you two were with her."
"I don't know what you mean…"
"Well, you show it. You're jittery, your hands shake every time you pick up a glass, and you're wearing longs sleeves, probably to cover up the marks of your habit," Bobby put the shot glass down. "You're friend here doesn't make a move without you leading the leash, so when she was with you Alyssa came along."
"I…I.." Rachael couldn't stop stuttering. "I…what do you want to know?"
"Where did you guys go?" asked Eliot.
"To a hotel," said Rachael, stepping out from behind the bar. "She said she'd met these guys who wanted to have sex and paid good. We sat there, boozing and shooting up some, but they never showed. Me and Alyssa bailed and the next thing we know her face is in the paper screaming rape and murder."
"Did you see her leave?" Bobby asked, standing up.
"No, and I've got to go to my shrink. Bye, Lys." She walked away behind the bar door. Alyssa stayed there, shaking and nervous.
"How bout you?" said Eliot. "See her leave?"
She sighed and ran her fingers through her long brown hair. "Look," she said shakily, "I don't want any trouble-"
"There won't be any if you answer my question."
"Okay," she said, taking a breath, "I went back in because I left my purse; it had a lot of money. I don't even know why I'm here, my parents disowned me because of the drugs and now I'm sleeping on my best friend's couch. Mary was the same, just wanted to have some fun you know? So when I went back, I saw her leaving with a man, tall, Hispanic, really buff. She looked like she was about to lose it, so I got out of there quick."
Bobby walked back to Eliot. "Thank you, Alyssa, you can go now."
Alyssa rushed out of there. Eliot looked around, saw that Olivia was still talking to Sherry, and started talking to Bobby. "So, is it your first baby?"
"Yeah," he said. "Is it that obvious?"
"First time dads always look nervous when they're thinking about their kids." He motioned to the bar. "How do you do that? Know what they're thinking so well?"
"I worked Narcotics for a while after the military," said Bobby. "Both teach you to be pretty sharp."
"I know what you mean," said Stabler, "during the years I was in the Navy nothing got past me." He turned; Olivia was still talking. "So…how'd you meet Alex?"
"Um…" said Bobby. He had run through this situation in his head a thousand times in the car. When he told most people he married his partner, they thought it was similar to an office environment, no harm, no foul; with a seasoned detective, the reaction might not be as great. What the hell, Bobby thought, he's probably going to find out from someone else. "Alex and I were partners for seven years before we got together," he said, waiting for the repercussion.
"Wow," said Stabler, "you got away with that?"
"Yeah," said Bobby; Eliot did not seem angry that he'd broken one of the most sacred cop rules. "One day it just clicked together and I knew I loved her; after that, I didn't really care what anyone else thought. We were lucky that the higher ups took pity on us. I think if it hadn't been for our successful case rate we would have both been jobless."
"That's cool," Eliot said, "I can understand; love happens like that. When I met my wife and we had our first, nothing could have torn me apart from them."
"You're married?" Bobby asked, intrigued that the man could have a relationship that emotional with his partner and his wife.
"Yeah," he said, "we just had our fifth kid this December."
"Hey boys," said Olivia, walking over. "Sorry to break up the party, but Sherry said that the victim used to work here."
"We confirmed that with the bartender," Eliot said.
"Not just that," said Olivia, "Sherry is Mary's aunt. Her mother passed away a few years ago and her dad disowned her when she enlisted after the World Trade Center bombings, so Sherry let her work here." Olivia pulled out a picture with Mary and a tanned man. "This is her boyfriend."
"This is the man that the bartender told us about." Eliot took the picture; the man was in uniform. "They serve together?"
"No, but they met at a rally," said Olivia.
"What would make a guy want to kill his own girlfriend?" Eliot asked.
"I think it's more complicated than that," said Bobby. "I think we need to take a closer look at the guy."