Sustaining What You Built

Chapter 4

Bobby had always liked Salvatore's. It was close to his apartment, had good, authentic Italian, and beautiful waitresses. Not that he spent as much time flirting with them as he used to, since they seemed to keep getting younger, while he just got older. Now when he went he usually looked over his case notes while he waited for his veal parmesan or just got carry out instead. Tonight he wanted the distractions of the various chatter and bustling that filled the restaurant. He didn't want to leave himself time to wonder about Eames – about the "date" she was on, her meeting with the captain, or if she knew how he felt. She was a smart detective; she had to have some inkling even if she ignored it, just like he knew she could have feelings for him if she let herself.

So, he focused on the notes he had made during his calls to the Riley brothers respective parole officers. Jason had been AWOL for over four months with an outstanding warrant for violating parole. His mother had kicked him out a little over a year ago, after his latest assault charge on their super. He had been written off by his P.O. as a waste of good potential.

Derrick on the other hand had been a pretty model parolee, minus a temper he still struggled to keep in check at times. He had taken on a full time position at a Brooklyn community center, which was initially a condition of his parole, and it was where he met Chelsea, who he married just six months ago. His P.O. said he was well read, intelligent and would have gone far in life if he hadn't gotten lost in his father's ignorant ideas. It took a severe beating while in Rikers, by his own people, to make him rethink his views.

Sheila, a waitress with sleek brown hair, appeared at the edge of Bobby's small booth with a plate in hand. She smiled at him as he hurriedly shuffled the papers back into his binder to make room for the food. She had been at the restaurant for years and was part of the family who owned it. She was around Eames' age, but didn't look anything like her. She was taller and fuller and had a darker complexion. They had flirted for years.

"It's been a while since you've actually dined in," she said.

She placed the plate in front of him and he flashed a smile.

"Well, I guess I just needed a change of scenery."

Sheila leaned against the opposite side of the booth and wore a faint smile as she stared down at him. She was a beautiful woman and he knew she would move beyond innocent flirting if he wanted. Right now, he had to admit he was tempted if only for a brief distraction. Plus, as of late, the saying "slow at home" would be an understatement.

"I thought you might have come with the other cops tonight," she said.

He raised his brows and looked up at her with new interest.

"Uh…what other cops?" Bobby asked.

She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder toward the opposite back corner booth.

"Olivia Pertrillo and one of her detectives. She lives in the neighborhood like you…comes in every now and then."

"Captain Pertrillo?"

"Yeah. You know her?"

Bobby shook his head.

"Not really. Eames…my partner, they worked together."

"Funny, I heard them mention an Eames…"

Bobby glanced off to the side at nothing in particular, feeling a knot pull at his gut. He shifted his gaze trying to get a glimpse at Pertrillo and her dinner mate. Her detective was a woman and he assumed someone who had worked her way through the ranks in Pertrillo's Vice unit. Bobby turned his attention back to Sheila, who gave him a queer look – she had never really seen him as Detective Goren.

"What did they say about her?" Bobby asked.

Sheila shrugged.

"I mean, I wasn't hanging on their every word," she said and then leaned toward him a bit. "They aren't exactly my type."

"Just the gist then of what you over heard."

Sheila deflated and straightened, her voice curt once she spoke.

"Uh…something about some task force the detective is in the running to lead. Sounded like they were going over her top competition."

"Eames…" Bobby said, softly.

The pieces quickly fell together in his head – the other morning Ross was extending the offer to her, but what did she say? She said it was nothing, so maybe she just told him she wasn't interested and she just didn't see the point in mentioning it. Or she had said yes and she didn't know how to tell him. He knew she should take it, that she deserved it, but could he learn to function with a new partner again? Nine years they had worked side by side and he had gotten to the point where he wasn't sure if he could see anyone else there; if he wanted anyone else there.

The rip of paper turned his attention back to Sheila as she placed his check on the table.

"Let me know if you need anything else," she said.

Her tone clearly said not to need anything else and Bobby watched as she walked off, still thinking about Eames. So much for a distraction.

XXXX

He didn't know what to say to her the next morning when she came into the bullpen. She noticed, of course. He kept replaying what Olivet had told him yesterday morning – that she will come to him once she's ready, but he felt the pull to question her, to pull whatever information he could with whatever subtle (or not so subtle) questions he could come up with. But she wasn't some laymen – she would know what he was doing because she always did and she would resent it.

Her reactions from the Quinn case and the Mulroney case were forefront in his mind when he thought about confronting her, but still he had a hard time stopping himself. It was what he did and sometimes he couldn't help but fall back on it when he wanted something from the people in his personal life. But he didn't really think it was the questions she resented, but the fact he had pushed her away for so long, had kept her at such a distance, and things from her. He realized he could be the worst kind of hypocrite.

He distracted himself by filling her in on the information he got from the parole officers and then they made plans to go to the community center where they were sure to find Derrick Riley. She drove, while he sat staring out the window and itched to bring up the job offer. He wanted to tell her to take it, but wasn't sure if he could. He couldn't lose her. He didn't want her to become one of those people that he ran into a year or five years down the line and had nothing to say to. He didn't want her to disappear from him, even if they weren't partners – he just wanted her in his life.

"Bobby," she called.

He glanced over startled, realizing she had just shifted the SUV into park in front of the community center.

"Where are you today?" she asked.

She looked lovely with concern and uncertainty, her brow crinkled in that way she had and her hair fell away from her face as she cocked her head. He liked how her hair had grown out and no longer hid her face.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I guess the lack of sleep is finally catching up."

She snorted.

"I thought I'd never see the day," she said.

He let out a soft laugh.

"Well, I guess nothing lasts forever," he said.

He watched her face soften and he wondered if she understood what he was really saying or if she at least suspected.

"Well, come on. Let's see what Riley has to say," she said.

Bobby followed Alex into the community center. It was pretty quiet this time of morning since most of the kids who frequented it were in school and wouldn't be there until the late afternoon. It was geared toward kids from single parent homes, high risk kids that easily could fall into the wrong crowds and put an end to their own potential – kids not that different from Derrick and Jason. They offered counseling and activities to keep them on the right path. It was a little dingy, but looked well organized and that the people there did their best with the resources they had.

He took in the two side by side basketball courts, like those you'd find in a high school gym class, as he followed Alex down the sideline toward a back room, which was obviously the center's office. The door was open and they could hear two voices quietly arguing – one female and one male.

"I can't," the man said. "I'm not getting involved—"

"But, babe, you are. He—"

"No!"

His voice rose in agitation and Bobby glanced at Alex, who had looked up at him. He nodded, knowing she was indicating they should intervene now. They quickened their steps, making their way to the door and then Bobby knocked on the door frame.

Chelsea and Derrick looked toward the door from their perspective corners, both startled and a little embarrassed. Derrick stiffened, tugging on his long sleeves and then crossing his arms over his chest.

"We're sorry to interrupt," Bobby said. "I'm Detective Goren and this is Detective Eames."

Chelsea shook her head and scratched her fingers through her coarse, chin length curls.

"No, we're sorry. This must look really…" she said. "One of the down sides of working with your spouse, you know?"

She flashed a strained smile and glanced toward Derrick. His stance softened and he took the couple of paces to her side, wrapping his arm around her waist. Bobby watched the way he relaxed once against her, feeling more at ease, but obviously still flustered over their argument and, he gathered, his and Eames' appearance in the middle of it.

"What…what can we do for you detectives?" Derrick asked.

"We were actually hoping you can do something for us…Derrick," Bobby said.

Derrick's arm fell from Chelsea's waist.

"So, I take it you've read my file," Derrick said.

"Along with your brother's," Alex said.

Derrick nodded, tugging again at his sleeves. Bobby assumed it was part nervous habit and part an effort to hide any tattoos he had, tattoos that would give away who he used to be.

"Have you had any contact with him recently?" Alex asked.

Derrick shook his head, glancing toward the ground, and Bobby saw Chelsea stiffen with frustration and worry.

"No. I haven't seen him in years…not since right after I got paroled," Derrick said.

Bobby glanced at Alex and knew she was convinced as he was.

"You don't seem very surprised that we're asking about him," Bobby said.

Derrick shrugged.

"We're both ex-cons…we'll always be suspect."

Bobby nodded.

"Your brother's suspected of murder," Alex said.

Derrick rubbed his eyes, hiding his reaction or lack there of.

"Jason was never violent—"

"Derrick," Chelsea pleaded through clenched teeth.

She clutched his forearm, but he shrugged her off, stepping away and shaking his head.

"Don't," he gritted out.

Bobby stepped further into the room toward Derrick and held his hands up in a passive gesture. Derrick retreated into his corner, trying to breathe, trying not to lash out. Bobby could see the tension, guilt, and deep set anger tightening his shoulders.

"Calm down," Bobby said. "I think we should go talk down at our office."

Derrick shook his head.

"You have no grounds to arrest me—"

"We're not arresting you," Bobby said. "Look, we're pretty certain your brother is involved in the murder of two people and that you and your wife could be targets. We have to talk to you."

Derrick rubbed his chin, struggling with sadness and pain written so plainly on his face.

"This wasn't…I can't…" Derrick muttered.

"Derrick, please," Chelsea said.

Bobby could see his resolve softening and thought about the loyalties he had to be weighing. Finally, he nodded, looking defeated and uncertain about his decision.

XXXX

"We really have to do this in here?" Derrick asked.

Bobby glanced around the interrogation room. It was quiet and one of the few places where he always knew the right thing to say. There was no one on the other side for once and it really was just a practicality that they were in there.

"My partner's talking to Chelsea in the one free interview room…not many other private places to talk around here."

Derrick nodded and looked over the room. He had come in willingly, even though it had been obvious that he didn't want to be separated from Chelsea, probably afraid of what the cops would tell her and what she would tell them. Bobby gathered she was one of the few people who knew all his secrets, but that Derrick was still afraid of her waking up one day and realizing what she had married herself to.

"What, you think Chelsea will be more open if I'm not there?" Derrick asked. "Or I'll be more open if she's not here?"

"Actually, I think, you would be more open with her around. You don't like disappointing her," Bobby said.

Derrick stared down at the metal table and chewed on his bottom lip.

"I guess you think you know everything about me, right?"

"Not everything…but I know you're conflicted about what to do here. Who to protect?"

"I'll do whatever I have to, to protect Chelsea."

"Even if it means giving up your brother?"

"There's nothing to give up," Derrick said.

Bobby could tell Derrick was itching to get out his seat and pace or storm out or hit something. He knew that feeling too well – that urge to just crawl out of his skin to avoid living with something he'd done or knew.

"Your brother looked up to you as a kid, didn't he?"

Derrick huffed.

"So now you know everything about him too?"

Bobby smiled. He liked Derrick – his stubbornness, his conflict, his ability to change. He got the feeling Chelsea had become the part that held it all together and he understood that too. He knew what it was like to have someone stumble into his life and completely change the equation that he equaled out to.

"Chelsea must be an amazing woman," Bobby said.

This earned him a glance.

"Leave her out of this…please."

"She's in it whether you like it or not," Bobby said. "I mean, she represents everything you've changed about yourself…everything you've done to try to redeem yourself. And despite everything, she fell in love with you."

"It is possible for people to really change, you know," Derrick said, defensively.

"I believe that. Is she what made you change?"

Derrick huffed and leaned forward with his elbows resting on the table. He shook his head, while rubbing his temples with his fingers.

"She was the only one who gave me a chance when I first got there…"

"At the community center…"

Derrick nodded, looking nostalgic and lost in a good memory.

"You know, I still don't know when it happened…" Derrick said.

Bobby nodded, though unlike Derrick he did know. He could pinpoint the moment he began to see Eames as more than a partner, but he tried to brush it off as something else – transference, a broader desire that really had nothing to do with her.

"She steadies you…makes you want to be better—"

"Don't," Derrick said. "I don't need you to tell me what she is to me."

Bobby nodded.

"Okay," Bobby said. "Then tell me about your brother. You brought him into your world before you got arrested—"

"I tried to get him out. He…" Derrick said. "He wouldn't listen to me…"

"You mean after you got paroled," Bobby said.

"Yeah. After that, he just got in deeper…wouldn't have anything to do with me…"

"He felt like you turned your back on him."

Anger flashed across Derrick's face and shifted in his seat, itching get up.

"Look, don't lay this on me," Derrick said. "Jason made his choices just like I did."

"If you really believe that then why protect him?" Bobby asked. "He found out about you and Chelsea and I'm betting he confronted you about it…"

"I can protect Chelsea…he won't do anything to me."

"If you want to protect Chelsea and your baby, then you need to give up your brother," Bobby said. "You can't be sure they'll be safe until we have him in custody."

Derrick let out a harsh breath and scrubbed his hands over his face. He stared down at the table for a long moment. Bobby could see the guilt and anger replaced by what they were masking – fear.

"Fuck," Derrick huffed out. "If they found out I talked then…"

"We can protect you and Chelsea. We can post a squad car on your building and the center. We will make sure your family is protected."

Derrick huffed out a laugh. It was an empty and defeated sound.

"Yeah? Which one? He's still my family too."

Bobby nodded, glancing away from Derrick, understanding his guilt, the feeling of betrayal; of being responsible for another's failures and crimes.

"Your brother, he did contact you?"

Derrick sighed, glancing up at the ceiling and slightly shaking his head.

"Yeah, okay? I saw him."

"When?"

"Uh…about a week, week and half ago…I was walking home from the center, Chelsea had already gone, and he grabbed me as I passed an alley. I'd never seen him like that…he…he had that look I used to get…"

"He was enraged."

Derrick nodded.

"You could say that," Derrick said. "He kept asking me if it was true…that Kelly told him I was with…with Chelsea. If I had known she worked there I would have gotten Chelsea to switch doctors…we never would have kept going there."

"Did he threaten you? Chelsea?"

"Not in so many words. He told me I should be ashamed…that Chelsea…that she was just a whore that corrupted me."

"Where would he go?" Bobby asked.

"I don't know."

"You have an idea. Who would help protect him?"

Derrick huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Daniel. Daniel Cullen. He's the one that got me into the movement…Jason turned to him when I left. Daniel would help hide him," Derrick said.

Bobby nodded and jotted down the information into his notebook as he asked Derrick for more details on Cullen.