A/N… SOOOO sorry for the delay! I did NOT forget this story or Storm Front. Regular updates (at least weekly, but more often while I'm unemployed) from now on.
So where did I leave us? Alex adores the two men in her life although they are both a mystery. Bobby and Alex have a new case concerning an unpopular banker who is involved in day trading (and who knows what else). AND of course, we're building up to the scene you read about in the first chapter… Bobby shot Joe? Why? You will find out pretty soon!
A/N 2:Again I swear this is B/A! For all B/A shippers….I'm sorry for the brief A/J (I hated having to write it) but it's necessary for the story. We WILL get there, but the story has to run its course. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Thursday (morning of incident)
Alex's POV
For some reason, I awoke early that morning.
I didn't look at the clock, but I expected that it was probably about time to get up.
I realized that Joe wasn't in bed with me and as I turned over onto my right side, I found him sitting on the floor beside the bed, watching me.
"Good morning," he greeted, leaning in to kiss me.
"Good morning," I said as we parted. "Why aren't you in bed?"
"I was, but I got up to use the bathroom and then didn't want to wake you by getting back in."
"Couldn't sleep?" I asked, knowing that's probably closer to the truth. It's been a trend for him lately.
"I like watching you sleep," he countered with a grin. He began to gently brush the strands of hair away from my face.
"Well that's sweet, but it isn't helping you much."
"I got some sleep."
"Joe…" I began, making no effort to hide the concern in my voice. It's not unexpected to have sleeplessness in our line of work, but I worry about him. His sleep has been especially erratic lately. The last time he was like this, his captain sent him home for a few days and then made him get a physical before he returned to make sure nothing else was wrong. To this day he still hasn't given me the full story, and it was probably to keep me from worrying.
"Okay, boss," he replied sarcastically, as he crawled back in bed.
Still thinking that it was about time to get up, my eyes finally sought the glowing green digits on the alarm clock-4:05am. No idea why I woke up that early. Not even time for my run yet.
He lay down beside me, opened his arms and I shifted closer into his embrace.
"Yeah, okay, you're right, I couldn't sleep."
"I know. But why were you sitting on the floor?"
"Just wanted some time with you and didn't want to wake you up. I miss you when we have to go weeks on end like this."
"I miss you too."
"And I'm still feeling horrible about that fight."
I lifted my head so I could see his eyes. "We're fine. Like I said, I know you've been under a lot of stress."
"I still hate the way I handled that. I should never have taken that out on you when all you wanted to tell me is that you might be pregnant."
"We're good. And I'm not pregnant." I rested my head back on his chest.
A few moments passed in silence as we lay there. "I wouldn't be disappointed at all if you were pregnant," he said softly.
I lifted my head once again to face him. "Really?"
"Yes, really. Ideally, I'd want everything to be perfect. The timing, our jobs, our finances, your pregnancy, everything. But that concept in my head may never happen."
"You never know," I remarked. I searched his eyes, seeing the concern weighing on him.
"I just don't want to screw anything up."
"We can't 'what-if' this to death, Joe."
"I know."
"And no, I don't think the timing is right now, either," I admitted
"Yes, but I won't react like that again. If you get pregnant, whether we've planned for it or not, we'll make this work."
"You don't have to make everything perfect. Just love me."
"Oh…and that I do," he replied amorously, pulling me closer until our lips met.
We made love and then dozed off for about 30 minutes before the alarm finally sounded. We both decided to go in late that morning. It wasn't something we did very often, but it was definitely worth it to have the time together. We went for a run, showered and had breakfast before going to our respective jobs.
It was almost 9:00 when I arrived and since I was already late, I picked up two cups of coffee on the way in; one to keep me going and the other for my over-worked, and most likely sleep-deprived partner.
I walked in and the first thing I noticed was that my partner wasn't there. Might be in the bathroom because I know he wasn't at the deli getting coffee.
There were open file boxes on the floor, and file folders and notes strewn across his desk.
On top of his overflowing trash can was a bag from the deli, which was either a late meal or an early breakfast. It looked like he had been there all night
There were two empty coffee cups on his desk so I tossed the cups and sat a fresh one down in the same place.
I checked my phone to make sure he hadn't left me a message that would explain his whereabouts.
Earlier that morning, I had left Bobby and Ross both messages to let them know I would be running late and since Bobby wasn't in sight and Ross wasn't standing by my desk impatiently awaiting my arrival, I guess neither of them was too concerned.
There were no notes on my desk from Bobby so I had no idea where he was on this case.
I called him but it went straight to voice mail. Then I went to Ross's office to see if he was around and saw that his light was off.
Carolyn appeared as I was walking back to my desk.
"Seen Ross or Bobby?" I asked.
"Negative on both," she replied. "But I thought I overheard someone say that Ross and Moran had a breakfast meeting this morning."
"Okay, thanks," I told her. I wandered back to our desks, sat down at his desk and began trying to catch myself up on the victim's financial files.
x x
Yesterday we spent most of the day talking to some of Bressle's political contacts and from there we obtained a few more leads, however nothing panned out.
At Bobby's insistence, we went back to meet with Bressle's wife Lynnette while she tended to the funeral arrangements. She responded as any grieving widow would. Despite the separation, she still loved her husband. She didn't offer us anything further to go on.
Bressle's lawyer provided further back up as to Bressle's activities but we learned nothing new from speaking with him, either.
x x
After 30 minutes of reading through a bunch of financial reports, which were mostly spreadsheets and very fine illegible handwriting, I was getting eye strain.
Bobby still hadn't arrived.
I was in need of yet another cup of coffee and as I stood up, I saw Ross arriving.
"Any updates on the case?" he inquired.
"Not since yesterday."
He looked at me quizzically, probably wondering why in the hell I was sitting at Bobby's desk. "Where's your partner?"
"Not sure," I replied.
Ross nodded
"See if you can track him down. I need to speak to him," he said as he started toward his office.
I hoped it had nothing to do with his meeting with Moran. "Okay, Captain," I responded without enthusiasm. I picked up my cell phone and tried calling him. He answered and said he was in the middle of something and would have to call me back. I quickly gave him the message from Ross and ended the call.
I glanced at the cup I had bought for Bobby. It was barely warm and I had no idea when he'd be back. And hell, I needed another hit. I grabbed the cup, retrieved some sugar packets from my desk and then added them, and drank it down quickly.
I continued scanning through Bressle's financial past. Bressle was a swift investor but he struggled in the beginning. He went rather deeply in debt and took out some loans to cover his expenses.
My partner finally surfaced later that morning. He hadn't called me back like he said he would, but I hoped for his own sake that he had at least called Ross.
"Morning, Bobby," I greeted. "Or what's left of it anyway," I added. "You talk to Ross?"
"Yep. Done," he replied without making eye contact. He threw his binder down on his desk, loosened his tie and walked briskly toward Ross's office.
No good morning. No mention of the case or whatever else he'd done all night and most of the morning.
I shook my head as I got up and followed him.
I stood outside the closed door to Ross's office, and it appeared as though their discussion might involve something other than the case. After another minute or two, they both approached the door and Bobby motioned for both of us to follow him back toward our desks.
I was getting a little annoyed with his inability to share information with me this morning. At least it looked as though he was about to report something.
"Last night Queens Narcotics picked up Rick Ippelin," Bobby began. "In addition to the 6 grams of cocaine in his possession, he had a handgun. Ballistics matched the bullets in the handgun with the casing found in Bressle's office. So that is our murder weapon."
"Do we know what his connection is to Bressle?" Ross inquired.
"It's not entirely straightforward. And Ippelin's got an alibi for Monday night," he reported.
"There's one other set of prints on the gun that match a Lawrence, aka 'Lars' Sangridge," Bobby reported, glancing at his binder. "He's Queens' favorite drug lord," he added with sarcasm. "Rap sheet's full of drug, weapons and assault charges. The handgun is registered to Sangridge's deceased stepfather, Mark Dunkirk. He's been using that as an alias. I found records of phone calls made from Bressle's phone to Mark Dunkirk on the day Bressle was killed."
"Let's find Sangridge and see if he has an alibi for Monday night," Ross responded.
He nodded. "There's already a warrant out."
Ross's cell phone rang. He checked the number than looked back at us. "Okay. Until then, go back and see what else Ippelin knows. Somehow that gun exchanged hands." He stepped away to take the call.
"We still don't know how someone got into the Chase building to murder Bressle," I said to Bobby after Ross had left. I mentally sifted back over the security footage at Chase. No one was unaccounted for, according to the security guards. It seems like it would have to be an inside job.
Or someone isn't being completely honest. Like that never happens.
I glanced back at my partner. He seemed dead on his feet. "You okay?" I asked.
"Couldn't sleep last night," he told me as a yawn escaped his lips.
I was glad that we finally had a break in this case and it was largely due to Bobby, although I didn't like him missing out on so much sleep. "Looks like you should have tried a little harder," I teased. "I'll go talk to Ippelin, you go grab some sleep."
"Maybe later," he mumbled as he walked over to his desk chair, picked up his jacket and binder. "I'll be fine. We'll grab some coffee on the way. You ready?"
He worried me sometimes. Okay, maybe more than just sometimes.
"Yep." I picked up my things and we left.
x x x
We spent the next couple of hours working out a deal with Ippelin's lawyer. Once that was out of the way, we were able to get a bit more information from Ippelin.
Sangridge had been Ippelin's supplier, which is how they were associated. According to Ippelin, the gun was in Sangridge's possession on Monday night and Sangridge asked Ippelin to get rid of it. Then last night, Ippelin was picked up by Narcotics.
I wondered why he hadn't disposed of it by then unless he intended to use it.
We just had to find and arrest Sangridge. If we get a confession out of him, we'll have the case wrapped up by tonight.
So far, tracking Sangridge down was the hardest part. Ippelin fortunately had a way to reach him.
Or at least had something Sangridge wanted— Money. Ippelin called Sangridge, saying he needed 6 grams of heroin and Sangridge agreed to meet by 5pm.
We had back-up called in. Everything was in place by 4:45pm. All seemed to be going according to plan.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
x x x
TBC….
Next chapter is done (it's a significant one!) and it's coming very soon!
