Goren woke the next morning to a knocking on the door. He got up from the couch, not surprised to find Logan standing in the hallway, grinning. "Look what the cat dragged in."
"Shut up, Logan," Goren snapped, turning back into the apartment.
With a laugh, Logan followed. "Where's Eames?"
"Still sleeping. She said she doesn't have to go into the squad room today."
Logan held up a stack of files in his right hand. "Nope. Work's here this morning. She sweet-talked the crime scene reports out of one of the guys. Gotta love a girl who knows what she wants and goes after it."
Goren looked down the hall toward his bedroom. "Yes," he answered simply. Waving a hand, he added, "Make yourself at home."
Logan watched him walk down the hall and turn into the bathroom. He went into the kitchen and started the coffee. By the time the pot was done brewing, Goren was back. Logan watched him open the refrigerator and hesitate, then pull out a carton of eggs and a tub of butter. Logan knew he hadn't gone into the refrigerator for eggs, and he quietly said, "Good choice, man."
Goren set the eggs on the counter and retrieved a frying pan from the cabinet beside the stove. Logan waited while he scrambled half a dozen eggs and dished them out, adding toast to each plate. "Got ham?" he asked.
Goren shrugged. "Take a look. Eames did the shopping the day...uh, the day I got arrested."
Logan looked in the refrigerator, grabbing a package of ham. "How are you holding up?"
"Not so well. I still...don't remember what happened that night."
Logan nodded, understanding how that would frustrate him. "Kinda unsettling when that brain lets you down, isn't it?" Goren nodded and Logan added, "I am glad I woke you, though."
"Why?"
"Because it means you slept. Did Eames drug you?"
Goren looked at him with a soft laugh. "Not quite."
Logan smiled. "Good for her. You look better."
He didn't feel any better, but acknowledged Logan with a brief nod and a murmured, "Thanks."
They heard a noise in the living room and turned toward the doorway as Eames appeared. She looked from one man to the other and smiled. "Good morning, boys."
Goren offered her a plate. "Breakfast?"
Her smile widened. "Thank you."
"Sit down. I'll get your coffee."
"Better watch it. You'll spoil me."
He lightly bit his lower lip and said, "Someone should."
Logan cleared his throat. "Did I miss something here?"
"No," Goren answered, thrusting a plate at him and turning toward the coffee pot.
They spent the morning reviewing the crime scene reports and other evidence. Eames noticed no improvement in her partner's demeanor or his optimism. He read the primary crime scene report with interest, and then he got to the medical examiner's report. He read it, and then he read it again. Eames reached over and gently took it from his hands. He met her eyes, and she was deeply disturbed by what she saw there. "You didn't..." she began.
He shook his head. "I wish I knew that for certain."
"I know it for certain," she insisted.
He shrugged off her confidence. "Either way...I knew her, Eames. Whether I did it or not, I was there when it happened, and I obviously did nothing to save her. That makes me just as guilty."
Logan interruped the disagreement. "You don't remember what happened, so you can't say you did nothing. Someone beat the shit out of you, and that tells me you tried to save her. Now shut up about this 'as guilty' shit, because if McCoy gets wind of it, he'll capitalize on it and then I'll hurt you."
Eames gave him a smile of gratitude and moved the autopsy report and crime scene photos of Lori out of Goren's line of vision, but she could not erase the images from his mind.
Logan entered Lewis' shop and looked around. Taking a deep breath, he smiled. He liked the smell of automotive grease. He saw the mechanic working on a red Mustang in the furthest bay, but his attention was drawn to the blue '67 Corvette in the bay next to it.
"Sweet ride," he commented as he stopped in front of it.
Lewis looked up at him, eyes filled with suspicion. "Can I help you?"
Logan flashed his badge. "My name's Logan. I..."
Lewis raised his hand, cutting him off. "Look, I have said everything I am going to say about Bobby Goren. You need anything else, find it out from some other source. I'm done talking. And don't threaten me either. If I have to shut down for a week or a month, I got a buddy to cover my work. So you can take your badge and your questions and leave my shop."
"Threaten you? Who threatened you?"
The question caught Lewis off guard. "Uh...it was a lady from the DA's office. She said I'd have to shut down for a week to come in for questioning and to testify if I didn't talk to her."
"Who else has been bothering you?"
Lewis frowned, uncertain. "Um...a couple of detectives came in a day or two before the lady lawyer. They said, um...how did they word it...uh, the nature of their investigation was not particularly relevant to me. But they wanted me to answer their questions just the same."
Logan came around and leaned against the fender of the Corvette. "I'm a friend of Bobby's. Alex Eames and I are working with his lawyer to put together some kind of defense. Problem is, Bobby's not any help. He doesn't remember what happened that night. Yesterday he told Alex there's some stuff in his past that won't put him in a real good place with a jury, but he won't tell her what. We're hoping you can help us out."
Lewis was still suspicious. "I really don't want to talk to any more cops or lawyers. I've said everything I'm gonna say."
Logan understood exactly how he felt, and he got why the man was being cautious. "Lewis, we gotta be prepared for anything the prosecution can throw at us."
"If you're working for the DA, I could be sealing Bobby's fate. No, sir. His juvenile record is sealed and so is my mouth."
Pulling out his phone, Logan tossed it to Lewis. "Call him. I've got nothing to hide."
Lewis hesitated before dialing Bobby's number. Logan leaned down into the Corvette and examined its interior while Lewis talked to his lifelong friend. When a hand touched his back, he pulled out of the vehicle and turned to face the mechanic, who handed him his phone. He stuffed a rag into his back pocket and said, "All right, Detective Logan. Let's talk."
Logan grinned. "Call me Mike."
With a half-smile, Logan followed him into the office. Lewis opened a small refrigerator and took out two cans of cola, handing one to Logan. Then he sat in his chair and looked at the cop. "What do you want to know?"
"You said his juvenile record is sealed. McCoy is good at getting access to sealed files, even ones thirty years old. Tell me what's in that file that could come around now to bite him in the ass."
Lewis let out a heavy sigh and spun a pen on the desk in front of him. "When we were juniors, Bobby fell in with a really bad crowd. I mean he and I would drink on weekends, and we'd smoke pot and stuff. We stole a car when we were fifteen, for a thrill. We got caught, but nothing came of it. The guy cut us a break. I got grounded; Bobby got a beating with a baseball bat. But there was no record of it. Then he got involved with that other crowd. He didn't have anything much to do with me for about six months. I know they were into more than just weed, but I can't say for certain what Bobby was into, if anything. He'd have to tell you that. They were older than we were, and they were dealing in the schools and on the streets...but I never, ever knew him to deal. Ever. Use, maybe. Deal, no."
"Did you ever wonder why he got involved with that crowd?"
"All the time. So when he started hanging with me again, I asked him. He said it was because he was bored." Lewis smiled affectionately. "It was always a dangerous thing when Bobby got bored."
Logan laughed. "I don't guess that's changed a whole lot, has it?"
"No. Not really."
"So am I correct in assuming that he got in trouble with that group of kids?"
"Oh, he got in big trouble." Lewis shifted uncomfortably."One night, he and a couple of other guys broke into a home in Kensington. The other guys were after money and jewelry they could sell for drugs. Bobby was along for the excitement of breaking into a house. If he'd done it before, he didn't get caught, but this time things went bad. The homeowner confronted them, and he was killed." He raised a hand. "Bobby had nothing to do with that guy getting whacked, but unfortunately, he was there. After he was arrested, his old man bailed him out. I never felt worse for Bobby than I did that weekend. It was a bad scene. Real bad."
Logan nodded. "I get it. I've been there."
Lewis studied Logan for a moment before continuing. "Bobby had nothing to do with the guy's death, but he was implicated. He was also 2 or 3 years younger than the guys he was with, and the DA offered him a deal. In exchange for his testimony, he got probation and his record was sealed when he turned 18. He never had to do time, but he still carries around the guilt for what happened that night. He never really talked to me about it, except to say he played no part in killing the guy, but he wasn't able to stop them either. He tried, and they tried to kill him, too. That's all he ever told me."
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's some serious shit."
"Yeah. I'll level with you, Mike. If it wasn't for the Army, he would have wound up in jail, or dead. He liked the challenge of the CID unit, but it wasn't until he got stationed in Korea and met Declan Gage that he really found his place in the world."
"Is there anything else we should know about?"
"That was the biggest trouble he got in. I don't know what else you're looking for."
Logan took a drink of his cola and looked at Lewis. "Let's talk about the family..."
Barry Moredock's office was a large, comfortable room, with leather chairs and lots of wood. Eames looked around as they entered the inner sanctum of the lawyer's practice. "A man must live here," she said with a smirk.
Moredock laughed and looked at Goren. "I like her spunk," he said.
"So do I," Goren responded.
"You're very fortunate," the lawyer added. "This little lady has been in your corner from the start,"
Goren looked at her. "I am fortunate," he agreed.
Eames gave him a brief smile as they sat around a knee-high table in the center of the room, but he did not return it. This entire ordeal, Eames reflected, had turned her already serious partner grim.
Moredock motioned to the stacks of files and papers on the table. "You have kept me very busy, Robert," he commented, splaying his hand over the stack closest to him.
Goren shifted in his chair. "Uh, I..."
The lawyer waved a hand. "Forget it. Fortunately, or maybe not, this will not be an open-and-shut case for either side. There is a lot here...but nothing violent. In spite of your past and your chosen career, there is no indication you are a violent man."
"That's because he's not," Eames replied.
"Jack McCoy will try to refute that aspect of your character."
Goren waved his arm. "Whatever. I've resigned myself to this fiasco becoming an assault on my character. My main concern...is how do we refute the evidence?"
Moredock smiled. "That's not our job. All the evidence does is place you at the scene. It doesn't put that knife in your hand. It's the prosecution's job to do that. All we have to do is convince the jury that someone else could have done it. If we find the man who left that third set of prints in Lori's bedroom, we find not only her killer, but her lover."
"Is that all?" Goren shook his head. "McCoy isn't interested in finding someone else. He has me and he thinks I'm good for it. That's all he needs."
Moredock smiled. "Jack thinks he's on solid ground. Let's shake up his world a little, shall we?"
Eames looked interested. "What do you have in mind, Mr. Moredock?"
He gave her a broad smile and reached for a file. "Jack hates pretrial motions," he said with a laugh as he opened the file. "What say was bury him..."
Kenny Moran hesitated in the doorway to Ross' office after confronting the captain with the evidence that implicated Goren in the Hodges murder. Ross accused him of editing the whole picture and Moran turned to leave in anger. He looked over his shoulder. "Remember what I told you about misfits, Danny? Just because you inherited them doesn't mean you have to keep them. Logan still has a home on Staten Island and it looks like Goren is going to have one at Riker's."
He turned and stormed through the squad room. Ross was livid as he chased after the chief. "Explain to me why the men you call misfits have the best solve rate in my squad," he demanded.
Moran turned on him. "Are you challenging me, captain?"
"Yes, chief. I am. Logan doesn't belong on Staten Island and Goren certainly does not belong at Rikers."
Moran thrust his finger in Ross' face and growled, "He does if he killed that woman."
Ross' eyes narrowed. "Get your finger out of my face, and this won't get ugly. I'll bet my pension on that man's innocence."
Moran glared at him. "Count yourself lucky I don't take you up on that bet, Danny."
He turned as the elevator doors opened and he entered the car. Ross turned and, as he headed back to his office, the only indication he gave of his anger was the set of his jaw and the fire that blazed in his green eyes.
