Chapter Four SECRETS

Alex spent the rest of Saturday morning furiously cleaning her apartment and making unanswered calls to Bobby. Around noon she called his friend Lewis, and was at least able to leave him a message. She finally decided to go to her family's gathering, and managed to avoid their questions by spending most of the time with her nephew. But she couldn't escape Bobby even while playing in the backyard; her nephew kept asking for "Bubby" and looking confused when his aunt grew sad. Although she loved her father's three alarm chili and wanted to get lost in her family, Alex couldn't face their questions, gentle and concerned as they might be. She left in the early evening and tried calling Bobby again as she headed into the city. Again, there was no answer, but she did manage to get hold of Lewis, who hadn't heard from Bobby in over a week.

"That's not unusual," Lewis said. "We can go for weeks without talking to each other, and then you can't split us up. But I'll check around with some other people." He tried to press her to discover why she was concerned, but Alex managed to convince him that it was simply a bad case. She tried Carmel Ridge in hopes he had finally gone to see his mother. The young nurse who answered her call told her politely that Mr. Goren had not been there, and the staff was somewhat puzzled. "He's such a good and gentle man…he's so patient with his mother," the nurse told her. Alex asked how Mrs. Goren was, and the nurse responded that she was doing better, but her doctors were discouraging any visitors other than her son.

Alex parked her car and entered her apartment. There were no messages, no sign that her partner had made any attempt to reach her. "Ex-partner," Alex thought. It had never been so dark, so cold; Alex had never felt so alone and sad, even after the death of her husband. "After all," she thought bitterly, "I didn't cause that." She considered calling Deakins, whose frequent promises of support she knew were genuine, but Alex had no idea what she could tell him. "Captain, I visited my partner's sick mother and messed up his life and now I'm afraid for him and me," did not seem a particularly coherent statement to Alex. She tried to consider where Bobby might have gone, to form some sort of apology to him. Her apartment walls began to crowd her; the furniture and trinkets became huge obstacles; the many photos mocked her. "I've got to get out of here," Alex thought, and she grabbed her coat and keys.

She walked without thought. It was a beautiful fall evening, the leaves creating a crisp and colorful blanket on the ground. As the sun set, Alex drew her coat closer to her; the night promised frost. She wasn't sure why or where or how long she walked until she found herself in front of Bobby's building. "Maybe he's back," she thought and entered the building. At this hour on a Saturday no one was at the security desk. Alex fingered her keys and found the one Bobby had given her early in their partnership. It was the gesture that convinced her that he finally and completely trusted her. "I need to get that back to him," she thought, "and all his stuff that's wound up at my place." She entered the elevator for the longest ride of her life.

As she walked from the elevator to Bobby's apartment Alex's mind flashed back to another awful walk, the one she took down a hospital corridor to the room where her husband lost the battle for his life. At least, she thought, at that time other officers and her family surrounded and supported her and she wasn't responsible for firing the bullet that shredded her husband's internal organs. She reached Bobby's door, squared her shoulders, and knocked. There was no response, no sounds from inside the apartment, and she knocked again. Again, there was no answer, and Alex took a deep breath, pulled her keys from her pocket, and unlocked the door.

"Bobby?" she called into the dark. She moved cautiously into the apartment. There were signs of Bobby; his dark overcoat thrown over the couch; his suit and dress shirt tossed on the bed; his shoes thrown on the floor; papers scattered on his desk; but the apartment appeared abandoned. Alex turned on a light and began a more methodical examination. With a growing sense of dread she discovered that only Bobby's leather jacket, wallet, and gun appeared missing. His few pieces of luggage were still in the closet, and all of his clothing seemed still in place. His cell phone lay forsaken on his desk. His answering machine blinked with messages; for a moment Alex debated further intruding on Bobby's life, but finally reached for the machine. "I can't make it much worse," she thought.

The machine contained her messages, each more tense and concerned. There were the calls from Carmel Ridge, each more puzzled and concerned. There were two from Lewis, each asking where Bobby was and telling him Alex was worried about him. But no sign that Bobby had heard any of them.

Alex sat in Bobby's desk chair and considered her next move. He had effectively disappeared, and Alex's mind flushed with fear. Had she yanked away his last beam of support? She knew that Bobby feared schizophrenia but also recognized that depression was a more likely and dangerous enemy given his background and profession. "No," she thought. "He wouldn't…couldn't…suicide…no…but he's told me he understands why…"

She rubbed her palms into her eyes until great red splashes filled her vision. "Oh, Bobby," she whispered. "Please…please…"

Her cell phone rang sharply. Alex grabbed it; she didn't recognize the number. "Hello?" she said tentatively.

"Is this Detective Alex Eames?" an official but polite voice asked.

"Yes."

"Detective Eames, I'm Sergeant Walter Mickels of the Pennsylvania State Police…I understand that you're Detective Robert Goren's partner?"

Alex gripped the phone tightly. "Yes, sir…is there anything wrong?"

"Detective Eames…I'm sorry…."

End Chapter 4