Chapter 7

Goren and Monk were the only ones still awake and they were still no further in getting any ideas about the murderer. Goren pinched the bridge of his nose and Monk held his hands over the photos as he shook his head.

"There's nothing here. Everything matches up…I could have organized this crime scene," Monk said with a nervous chuckle.

Goren rubbed the back of his neck. "Well…well maybe that's the problem. Maybe it's too perfect."

"There has to be something…nothing is this perfect," Monk said. "I would have found it by now."

"You're…OCD," Goren said tentatively and Monk responded with a nod. "It got worse…after…after you're wife died?"

Monk nodded, then turned in his seat and gestured toward a stack of articles on the coffee table.

"You have a family member who's schizophrenic…" Monk said.

Goren gave a slight smile and nodded.

"My…my mom. It was the articles on new medications, wasn't it?"

"Most people don't read test studies for leisure."

"No. No they don't." Goren sighed. "How…how did she die?"

Monk got a far away look in his eyes as he stared off at nothing in particular.

"Car bomb," he said quietly.

"They never found who did it." Goren said.

Monk shook his head. "I think it had something to do with a story she was working on. I've never been sure…I don't do very well without her."

Goren nodded with subtle understanding.

"We should get some sleep. We'll work on this more tomorrow and Eames and I will go talk to the kids form the high school," Goren said as he gathered up the photos and reports back into it file.

Monk nodded and watched Goren walk back to his bedroom.

Eames was sprawled on her stomach with her face pointed toward the window, away from the door and his side.

Goren shed his jeans and threw them on the corner chair before crawling in beside her. He propped himself up with on hand, while he rested the other on Eames' hip and he leaned to see her face.

"Eames," he said and received a faint groan in reply. "Eames."

She buried her nose deeper into the pillow.

"What?" came her muffled reply.

"You…you know that this is where I want to be, don't you?"

"What?" Eames twisted to look up at him. "What are you talking about?"

"What…what Nicole said…about me…"

Eames huffed. "Why do you always start these conversations when I'm half asleep?"

He chuckled. "Because it's the only time we're alone."

Eames sighed and rolled onto her back, which caused his hand to shift to her stomach.

"This is about her trapped comment, isn't it?" Eames asked, even though she already knew the answer. "You put too much stock in what that woman says."

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me it didn't bother you."

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Okay so it cut at me," she finally said. "But mostly because I was worried you were going to let her bait you using me or Madison."

"You still haven't answered my question."

Eames placed her hand over his and stroked her thumb against his.

"I know you're here for the right reasons," Eames said. "There may have been a time when I was worried that you were staying out of obligation…"

"But I—"

She covered his mouth with her free palm.

"But when I saw you with her for the first time, in the hospital, I knew you were in love," she said and she slowly lowered her hand from his lips.

"I was already in love with you."

"I know, but you were also in love with Mad and I knew you weren't going anywhere," she said as she ran a finger along the small gray patch of hair by his temple. "What brought this on anyway that you had to ask me at…one in the morning?"

"I was…talking to Monk about…about his wife and I just…started thinking about some things."

"You like him."

"He's a very interesting man."

Eames snorted. "Figures you'd say that."

"What?"

"Well, he is your type," Eames said, and then laughed at Goren's furrowed brow. "Oh come on, he could be yours and Wally Steven's love child."

Goren chuckled. "Maybe so…but he's…very good, smart. But he's lost a lot…there's a lot pain…"

"Don't," Eames said softly, as she moved her hands to cradle his cheeks. "You're not him."

He let her pull his lips to hers and lightly teased her mouth open.

As they parted, he rolled onto his back and Eames followed, resting her head on his chest and throwing an arm over his waist. She snuggled against the black cotton of his T-shirt and began to drift back to sleep, while his fingers massaged her scalp.