"So, as you can see, we've hit a stand-still," Alex finished explaining.
"And that leaves us with no perp and no means of finding them?" Ross responded.
"Well, as far as I can tell-"
"Not quite." The two turned to Bobby, who was thinking intently. He pulled out a legal pad and began flipping through pages until he hit what he was looking for. "Our victim was small, five foot two, five foot four in heels. She was wealthy. She was thin."
"And therefore was desirable and defenseless, we know!" said the impatient captain, who had been interrupted from his lunch with a telephone call as well and considerably less compliant about it than Goren.
"Well, she fit the profile of a damsel in distress, but by no means does that mean she was as innocent as that name implies." He flipped the pad shut. "Paige Garner was a live wire; she had numerous trysts with various men, all loaded…but something about her husband made her committed, faithful, and I suspect that it was because he was worth about ten times any of them. She attended her sister's dinner party with the richest man she'd ever been with in a room full of her rejects and their jealous wives…I think we can use a process of elimination here, Captain."
"We already checked Ellen and she came out clean. Admitted that her sister was not always the most popular but was by no means hated enough to be killed." Ross crossed his arms and sat back on his desk. "She insists that we leave her be."
"And with a cash cow army in real estate that she's sitting on," Eames picked up, "the higher ups won't want us making this into any bigger of a spectacle."
Bobby's nose crinkled at the mention of his superiors, just enough for Alex to tell but slight enough that Ross didn't pick up on it. "Who say's this has to be a spectacle?"
The captain's ears pricked up. "What do you mean, detective?"
"Obviously any of the upper crust of Manhattan are going to lawyer up if they have to deal with the police, so…"
Oh no.
"Let's not make them."
Oh no no no no no.
"Eames and I will pose as new money from, I don't know, Michigan, let's go with a steel plant. We'll set it in an apartment, have a get together…I'm sure with a little prodding Ellen will be more than happy to comply to save herself from said 'spectacle'."
This is not-
"We'll have her and her friends there to chat with, giving us a chance to observe them and hopefully to see what tensions might arise."
There's no way, not so soon after his suspension. I can't read him. The captain won't-
"Interesting. What would be your cover?"
What?
"The wealth, the in, and the new marriage would be all the cover we'd need."
Bobby. Me. Married.
With how we're acting now this isn't possible.
"Excuse me?" Eames pitched in. "When was I asked about any of this?"
Both her overly eager boss and her antsy partner remained silent.
"First of all, in order for us to do this I would have to consent. In order for me to consent, I would be agreeing to let you use me as bait."
"Don't think I don't see where you're going where you're going with this, Goren. She was small, skinny…I'm supposed to be the one they are going to want to hate?"
And I don't know if I can trust you yet.
Bobby looked as if he'd retreated back into the tortoise shell that he'd been under since he'd come back. " I was just suggesting, Eames. It's not like we've never done this before."
But we've changed. You've changed.
"Goren is right Eames. This is the best way to handle it; I don't like using you two so…freshly back together…but it might be the only way to seek Paige's killer and keep the public at bay."
And I guess I'm the only one who's noticed.
"Be here tomorrow at 7 am."
The two left the office, married but not communicating.