Wednesday 9th January
Office Of The New York City District Attorney
Eames had expected a call from that office when she sent over the news that the body of Nicole Wallace/ Elizabeth Hitchens/Trish Sewell and probably another dozen alias', had been found in Iowa. They had as many open cases on her themselves. Crimes they would try to prosecute for if she had set foot in New York again. Always assuming they could find the missing piece of evidence or a witness willing to give useful testimony that had eluded them in the past.
She had not expected to see Jack McCoy himself. These days and in the "top job" it was as much a political and PR role, as him having the time or inclination to dig out old files. And want a cop to assure him they could consign them to the basement. But then Ron Carver had handled all those cases involving Nicole, to his intense frustration at times. These days he was in private practice. So Eames assumed she was one of the few left around who knew them inside out. Jimmy Deakins was retired and rumoured to be on the golf course a lot of the time. And Goren was tucked up in Boston.
McCoy always did have an easy charm behind that determination and razor sharp mind and she had found herself drawn in by it. He had a reputation as a bit of a dog on the side too, though as they sat late afternoon together, Eames felt it was more the real lawyer in him who was getting a bit of a run out. Like a lot of good cops the further up the greasy pole you got the more you became distanced from the job made you "good" in the first place. Perhaps Jack just wanted to get his head round some extreme and old-fashioned crime more than budget papers or the signing of expenses forms?
The time passed shockingly fast as Eames found herself responding to McCoy's questions and observations. So much so, his secretary had to come and remind him he was supposed to be somewhere else ten minutes ago. It was possible it was the rush to be out of his way, but it was only when she found herself in the dark and freezing street, Eames realised she had said "yes". To the almost casual suggestion they meet up to eat at The Jade Orchid in Chinatown later.
As she returned to 1PP she knew she would feel a total idiot backing out. Wasn't like she was some innocent convent girl and it was probably doing Jack a disservice. To assume he would want to lure her back to his place somewhere in Soho. Just she hadn't dated or even gone out much for almost three months. Not since she and Dave split up and the business with that creep Johnnie Belray in Arizona. Charmer, drug supplier, probable murderer and unfortunately number one or two in her all time list of "great in the sack".
Except Eames had not known those things in her haste to get her clothes off with him and that, along with some other stuff, had sent her for a while into counselling. If Nicole Wallace had been Goren's "bete noir", Belray had been hers but at least he spotted what she was before things went too far. Eames had always suspected, but never said it to him, that her partner was initially attracted to Nicole. Why not? In some ways and superficially she was his type, if he really had one.
Ironic too that both were now dead. Belray had been stabbed only two months into his remand having got the wrong side of, or failed to sufficiently charm someone in jail. Robbed everyone of some resolution not to see him tried for his crimes and yet at the same time Eames was relieved. She had a horrible suspicion, if only to humiliate her and cause a diversion, she might have been on his lawyer's list to call. It was a trip, an embarrassment and a skin crawling experience some con with a prison shank had saved her.
She didn't need "saving" from Jack McCoy. Who probably just wanted company to eat on a night he wasn't committed to some function or fundraiser. And if he had ideas that might extend to breakfast, he was going to be disappointed.
Saturday 26th January
Maximus, Madison Avenue, New York
It took her about ten minutes after she got inside to work out who were the people who counted in the club. The half dozen well dressed men and a couple of women, who were holding court to assorted followers who held onto every word and were probably freeloading on their cash. At first the short plump guy with a group in the corner seemed to be the likely target. Until you realised he was interested in the other young men more than the women at the table and she saw his hand almost in the crotch of a young Hispanic.
A foray to the rest rooms to listen to what other women were saying was always useful. Marty Clarkson had to be that big Italian looking type with a group near the bar. Apparently it was he supplied the coke she could hear two girls snorting in the next stall. And had "beaten the crap" out of some guy called "Weasel" when he objected to Marty banging his wife in exchange for a debt. From what she heard from the two of them who had both experienced Clarkson that way, "banging" was the way he liked it too.
Sometimes you had to put up with a little short-term pain for long-term gain. She removed her panties in the stall and returned to the bar. One glance or two later and a quick "Fatal Attraction" in his direction and she had his undivided attention.
A week later and she had a business proposition to put to him. Coke has a numbing effect if you pick the right place to rub it and Marty had more Colombian fuelled energy than anything could do much damage. More like a hamster than a mule, though she had told him the opposite and moaned appropriately at the size and effectiveness of his manhood.
Wednesday 13th February
Quincy's Oyster Bar, Chatham St, Boston
Dr Caroline Reese touched her glass to his. "Happy day before Valentine's Rob"
"And to you Caro" he replied.
"Sorry we had to come a day early but you know I'm on call tomorrow night and you can bet your bottom dollar my cell will ring"
"Does seem to happen the moment we shift out the front door" Goren acknowledged. "Though if I'm honest…er…I had left it a bit late…to…um..book a table anywhere"
She laughed softly. "You can be honest to a fault sometimes and it really would not have mattered you know"
"I guess not"
He knew that was true. One reason he loved her was she didn't get so exercised by things like that. It was everyday that mattered not just the special occasions. To Caro, a flower he drew on the back of a cornflake box and gave her any day of the year would be as welcome as a dozen red roses tomorrow. Just as well, since he'd not ordered them either.
"So then?" she returned to her dessert. "What did you get for your essay has had your head filled for the last ten days?"
"Just a B plus" Goren muttered.
"What's wrong with that?" Caro shrugged. "Apart from the impossibly high standards you set to punish yourself if you don't live up to them"
"You quit the office now" he reminded her. "And Prof Lindstrom hates me"
Caro giggled. "You sound and look like a sulky fourth grader Rob. And of course he hates you. I think you're smarter and better looking than he is"
"You know him then?"
"Vaguely. His wife is on one of the hospital fund raising committees" she shrugged.
"And thanks for trying to make me feel better"
She poked at her fruit salad. "You know the answer don't you? You just need to be twenty-five years younger, female, adoring and quoting one of his coffee table texts back at him. The one he was on Oprah about or was it Larry King?"
"Both" Goren growled. "I swear I'll…I'll…well I don't know what next time he mentions their name in a tutorial"
"Harder than you thought?" she asked. "To stop being a cop and go back to being a student?"
"Sometimes"
"So quit. Except that's not in your vocabulary is it?"
He looked at her across the table. The expression said "No" loud and clear.
"Caro?" his voice was hesitant. "Did you…you know…I realise it's a lot to take on and I shouldn't expect…"
"Yes" she said.
"Excuse me?"
"Yes Rob. I will. Or is that not the answer you really wanted?"
"Yes" he said hoarsely. "I mean no…oh hell…um…oh thanks you…you're sure…of course you…"
"Rob!" she said sharply. "Shut up?"
He put both hands over his mouth and she laughed softly.
"Now hurry up and eat. I've got plans for you tonight and it doesn't involve hitting the books. But you'll have to do better than B plus"
Goren laughed. "No pressure then Dr Reese?"
"None at all Detective"
To be continued…
AN : If you want to know what happened to Alex (and Bobby) in Arizona you might want to read "A Friend Of Mine"