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Chapter 8: Communication
noun
1: an act or instance of transmitting
2: a verbal or written message
3: a process by which information is exchanged between individuals
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Fin glanced at the digital display on his muted car stereo and frowned. The night was nearly gone and time would soon be crawling toward the early morning hours. He promised himself a half-hour more of searching, knowing he wouldn't be fresh enough to start back in the morning if he pushed it any more than that.
He took a right at the intersection and cruised slowly down the street. This time of night, a time when suburbia was tucked safely in their beds, neighborhoods like this one were hopping with activity. His eyes scanned the faces of the men and women and in-betweens he passed, looking for any hint of familiarity; someone who would not only talk to him, but possibly have some shred of useable information.
Frustration was giving birth to defeat, and defeat was in turn breeding doubt. It'd been eight days since the attack. Eight days with no body, which gave him hope that Bobby might still be alive somewhere, possibly hiding out, certainly injured to some degree. But it'd also been eight days of not one goddamn clue to support that theory. And Fin knew that if he didn't find something soon, Deakins was going to call his hand. Both Cragen and Deakins were going to the mat for Fin, and the Chief of D's was, so far, backing both captains, but eventually this investigation was going to have to produce some positive results or Fin was going to be sent back to SVU.
Not that that would end Fins participation in it in any way other than on paper. He damn sure intended to see this through to the end... no matter what that end might be.
Fin glanced at the clock on the dashboard again, and sighed. He was going to have to call it a night. He could hear the birthing cry of frustration even now, as it pushed forth the tiny, fresh-born defeat into Fin's world. He frowned and turned his car east at the next light, heading toward home with the promise that he'd start fresh first thing in the morning.
His cell phone rang and he quickly pulled to the curb, putting the SUV into park before picking it up with a silent prayer that it was one of his many snitches with some information. He didn't immediately recognize the number, and that gave him hope.
"Speak to me."
"Fin? Please, tell me I didn't wake you..."
He pushed down a stab of disappointment. "Alex, no, you didn't. I'm just heading home now."
"Good..." The line was silent for a few seconds. "Ted told me you were going down to talk to some people you know. I just wondered..."
"You're hoping I picked up something," Fin finished when she stopped.
"Did you?"
There was so much hope in her voice that he hated to dash it. "I'm sorry, Alex, no. Nothing."
She sighed, and the sound carried all the disappointment Fin was feeling himself. "I thought we'd have found something by now."
"Yeah, me, too." Ignoring his own newly spawned doubts, he said, "Don't give up hope, Alex. Not until we've turned over ever rock out here."
"It's been eight days. If he's out there somewhere, if he's alive... where is he, Fin? Why wouldn't he have contacted someone by now?"
"I know this much about Bobby Goren, Alex: If he doesn't want to be found, he ain't gonna be. He's too good."
She didn't immediately answer, and he could picture her in his mind trying to convince herself he was right. "But..."
"I know," he said into her hesitation. "What if he's hurt? I keep asking myself the same thing. Bobby can take care of himself, Alex. He's resourceful, he'll be okay--" Fin's phone beeped, signaling another incoming call. He pulled it away from his ear and looked at the display. The number was unfamiliar. One of his informants, he hoped. Putting the phone quickly back to his ear, he said, "Look, Alex, I got a call coming in that I gotta take. You get some rest. I'll talk to you in the morning." He ended the call before she could reply, crossing his fingers as he switched over to the other line.
"Tutuola."
There was a moment of silence, then, "Tut?"
The hair on Fin's neck stood on end. The voice was nearly unrecognizable -- scratchy and hoarse -- but there was only one person on this earth who had ever called him "Tut" and lived to tell about it.
"Son of a bitch..." he muttered before he could stop himself. "Bobby!"
"Tut, please... don't hang up..."
"Hang up? You do realize I've been riding up and down the roads for days, talking to anybody and everybody who'll give me five minutes, just looking for some damn sign that you're still alive? Now why in the hell would I hang up on you? My God, Bobby..." Fin squeezed his eyes tight against the sudden burning there. "We thought you were dead, man."
"I know. I-I saw a paper..." Bobby's voice was soft, hesitant.
"Where in the hell are you? HOW are you? There was blood..."
"I'm okay now. I'm fine. Tut... I only have a few minutes. I had to borrow the change to make this call, and I've got no more, so when my time limit is up, I'll have to hang up. I have to know, Tut... Alex... the paper said she'd... Is she okay? Was she... SVU's investigating, that means she was..."
Fin realized what Bobby was thinking and hurried to put his mind at ease. "No, Bobby, she wasn't raped."
He heard an exhaled, "Thank God..."
"She's okay, Bobby. Just bruised and sore, for the most part, and she's emotionally on edge, but she's going to be okay."
"But SVU--"
"I've been temporarily reassigned to the Major Case Squad for the duration of this investigation, and believe me when I say, I had to pull in every favor I'll ever even think somebody might owe me to pull that off. So, when you get your ass back here, you are gonna owe me, man!"
"Tut, I can't... I don't..."
The desperation in the quiet voice put a hitch in Fin's breath. If there was one word he'd always associated with Bobby Goren, it was confident, but the man on the other end of the phone line was anything but. His voice, his tone was tentative, unsure. And afraid.
"The papers are saying I did it, Tut, and I want to believe that I would never, could never hurt Alex, but... I don't remember. I can't remember what I did or didn't do. And I can't convince myself that I didn't--"
"Bobby, wait, listen to me, man. You didn't do it. You hear me, Bobby? You didn't do it, I swear. Trust me, okay? You didn't hurt Alex."
"She remembers the attack? She knows I didn't do it? The paper said she didn't remember anything."
Fin sighed. "No, she doesn't. She was given Rohypnol; she's not ever gonna remember."
"That's... maybe that's why I can't remember... "
"Makes sense."
"That or the concussion. I... I hit my head... in the water, I think."
"So you were in the water."
There was a short pause. "How do you know I didn't do it, Tut? If neither she nor I remember what happened, how do you know it wasn't me?"
Fin shifted the phone to his other ear. "First off, I know you, Bobby. You ain't got violence in you, man. Ain't no way you'd ever hurt anyone, especially your partner. And she knows that, too."
"Alex believes I'm innocent?" Bobby latched onto the words, and there was a world of desperation in his question.
Fin was happy he could set Bobby's mind at ease on at least this one point. "Alex has never believed otherwise, Bobby. She knows you didn't do it."
Bobby sucked in a noisy breath, which turned into a coughing fit that last far too long. When it finally ended, Fin could hear Bobby gasping for breath, and a woman's voice in the background. He strained to hear her words, but couldn't.
"Bobby? Tell me where you are, man? I'm gonna come get you."
"No..." Bobby had to stop again to catch his breath. "No, Tut, please, don't ask me to do that. You would have to turn me in, and I can't let you do that. Not yet. I've got to... got to find something, some evidence that will clear me. I have to make myself remember."
"If you were given Rohypnol, you ain't gonna remember, Bobby. Come on, man, you're hurt and you're sick, I can hear it for myself, and you ain't going to assure me otherwise with an 'I'm fine' and 'I'm okay.' At the very least you need to see a doctor. More likely a hospital."
"Really, Tut, I am okay... I'm much better than I was."
Fin wasn't buying it, but he let it go, knowing if the roles were reversed, there was no way in hell he'd turn himself in just to be thrown in jail. "You always were a stubborn son of a bitch."
"My time is almost up, Tut. I'll try to call back when I can, but it may be awhile." Bobby took a ragged breath, followed by a soft cough. "I know I'm putting you in a tough position, Tut, so tell them, okay? Tell them about the call, and let them trace the number. Don't get yourself into trouble over me. I'll be long gone by the time they get here."
"Bobby, you sure about this? If you're not ready to turn yourself in, at least let me get some money to you--"
"And get you arrested for aiding and abetting? No, Tut, but thanks for the offer." A warning beep sounded. "My time's up, but I need to ask you something real quick... My mom... is she all right? Has she been told...?
"Don't worry about your mother," Fin assured him. "I've been checking on her, and no, I talked her doctors into waiting to tell her anything until we actually had something to tell her."
The warning beeped once more. "Tut, tell Alex--"
The connection was severed before he could finish the sentence.
Fin swore vehemently. As pleased -- hell, ecstatic! -- as he was to have gotten the call from Bobby, there'd barely been enough time to cover Bobby's basic questions, much less for Fin to ask some of his own. He'd just have to hope that Bobby called back in the very near future.
But, goddammit! Bobby was alive!
A grin nearly split Fin's face as he let the realization wash over him. Bobby was alive! All that was left to do was clear his name so he could come home.
Fin flipped back open his cell phone, knowing there was one other person who needed the information every bit as much, if not more, than he had. He scrolled through his recent calls to Alex's number, and punched the connect button. She answered on the second ring.
"Fin?" Her voice was filled with expectation. Not surprising, he figured. Why else would he be calling this time of the night if not with news, good or bad?
Making a sudden decision to give her the news face to face, he simply told her, "If you ain't dressed, get that way quick. I'm on my way over. I've got news, girl. Good news. Oh, and put on some coffee. This is turning into a long damned night."
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Alex pulled a loose sweatshirt over her pajama top and headed for the kitchen to check on the progress of the coffee. Halfway there, the doorbell rang and she detoured, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste to answer it. She'd been a nervous wreck ever since Fin's call, imagining all kinds of scenarios, but afraid to get her hopes up too much. His news could be anything. It could be nothing. No, he wouldn't come all the way to her house for "nothing news." Besides, she had easily heard the satisfaction in his voice.
She yanked open the door without even bothering to verify who was on the other side of it. Not a wise move, especially for a cop, but she was too anxious to do much more than silently berate herself.
Fin was standing on her stoop, with a grin so wide she thought it might just swallow the rest of his face. "Bobby called me."
Alex felt the color drain from her face. She was certain she had heard him wrong, because there was no way he had said what she thought he had said. "Bobby... What?"
Fin walked past her into the house. "He called me. He's alive, Alex."
Alex followed him into the living room and dropped unceremoniously into a chair. "He's alive... my God..." She looked up. "How is he? Is her hurt?
Fin sat down on the edge of the couch and leaned forward. "He kept telling me he was fine."
Her brow creased. "You didn't believe him."
"He didn't sound fine."
Alex closed her eyes for a long minute, collecting her wits and steadying her nerves. Opening them again, she said, "I want to know everything, every last word, from the beginning."
Fin sat back, making himself comfortable. "I gotta have some coffee first. It's gonna be a long night."
She let out a quick, frustrated breath and stood, heading for the kitchen. Barely a minute later, she returned with two steaming mugs and handed one to Fin. "I don't remember how you take it."
"Black's fine."
Alex sat and took a quick sip of the hot, bitter liquid. She was shivering, and though she suspected it had little to do with the chill in the air, she pulled the afghan from the back of her chair and wrapped it around her. Once she had settled back into the chair, she looked expectantly at the man sitting across from her.
"When you were talking to me, that was Bobby who called on your other line, wasn't it?"
Fin nodded. "Yeah, it was. Damn, girl... can you imagine how startled I was to hear his voice on the other end of the line?"
Alex lifted one corner of her mouth in silent reply. Yeah, she could well imagine. She couldn't help a tiny ember of hurt that she had not been the one Bobby had chosen to contact. She pushed it away. Her feelings weren't what was important. All that mattered in was that Bobby was alive.
"He thought I was gonna hang up on him." Fin chuckled. "Might be because I called him a son of a bitch."
"What?!"
"Alex, when I answered that phone, Bobby Goren's voice was about the last thing I expected to hear. Caught me off guard." He picked up the other cup and took a sip, then leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "He said he'd seen the papers."
"Damn," Alex whispered. "He probably thinks we believe he's guilty, too, then.'" She met the other detective's eyes. "Did he say what happened? Who it was that attacked us? Was it Ellis?"
Fin frowned. "He doesn't remember any more than you do."
"He was drugged, too?"
"I don't know, maybe, but he also said he hit his head."
"So he is hurt!" She uncurled and set her cup back on the tray in one swift movement, and then stood, letting the afghan fall to the floor. "We've got to go find him, Fin--"
Fin made no move to get up. "Where do you propose we look?"
Alex threw her hands wide. "I don't know, but we can't just sit here, knowing he's out there somewhere in the cold, hurt. God, Fin, for all we know he doesn't even have anywhere to go."
"We just had this conversation on the phone less than an hour ago, Alex. Bobby is resourceful. He's capable of taking care of himself."
"I know, but--"
"No buts, you have to trust him when he says he's all right."
"Even if it's a lie?"
"Even if it's a lie."
Alex sighed, long and drawn out and full of all the anguish she felt, then sat back down. She didn't retrieve her coffee or the afghan. "He's hurt, Fin."
"And sick."
Her head jerked up. "Sick?"
"He sounded rough. Wheezing and coughing... and his voice was rough."
"Like he had the flu..." Fear filled her chest. "Or pneumonia... Fin, if Ellis did throw him in the river, as cold as it is..."
Fin met her gaze, but didn't reply.
"We have to find him. He needs a doctor!"
Fin shook her head. "He won't turn himself in, Alex. I tried to reason with him, but he thinks he'll be arrested, and he's not wrong. We all think Ellis did it, but there's not enough hard evidence, and the stronger case is against Bobby. You know they'd go after him. Especially with neither of you being able to remember anything that happened. That just leaves the evidence, and you know it's damning."
"Damn it!" Alex rarely swore, but sometimes, circumstances demanded it. She stood and moved around the chair, wrapping her arms tight about herself. "If I could remember--"
"You know you ain't going to, Alex."
"I know, but... just a face... or a voice. Something, damn it! Just something that would prove that someone else was there. That it wasn't Bobby."
"That would make it too easy." He chuckled. "Since when has anything ever been that easy? Come on, Alex, you know we've all had cases way more difficult than this. We'll solve it. That's what we do, right?"
"It's what we do..." She looked at Fin, her eyes bright with emotion. "Yeah, it is, but you're missing something: I usually have Bobby's brilliant insights and intuitive leaps of logic. Without him, I'm just a cop. I miss him, Fin. And I really, really need his help on this." She laughed, the sound watery. "Ironic, isn't it?"
Fin set down his mug and leaned forward. "You may be just a cop without him, but you're a damn good one." He laughed. "To tell you the truth, I'm pretty damn good myself. Between the two of us, we are going to solve this case. We'll prove Bobby innocent."
"And Ted," Alex added, releasing her self-hug and sitting down again. She picked up her cup and took a sip of the lukewarm coffee, not missing the fleeting expression that crossed Fin's face. "Ted's okay, Fin, he just takes some getting used to." She smiled. "He reminds me of Bobby in that respect."
Fin stood and headed toward the kitchen. He returned shortly with the coffee carafe and refilled both their cups. "I'd say that's where the similarities end. He's no Bobby."
"Ted's smart, and he has a keen insight. He fancies himself a profiler, and he's good at it, but like you said, he's no Bobby. He lacks the ability to put himself in the killer's mind. No..." She paused in thought. "No, that's not exactly right. I don't think he lacks the ability, but the desire. He only goes so far, and then he pulls back. Bobby told him once that until he learned to stop pulling back, he'd never be able to profile effectively. Ted smiled politely and thanked Bobby for his advice, but I could tell it got under his skin. Of course, that might be because Bobby didn't wait until they were in private to say it to him. You know how Bobby is, he says what's he thinking. He doesn't always edit himself appropriately."
"He's honest to a fault," Fin defended, "but that's just who he is." He took a long sip of his coffee.
"So... are we going to take this to the captain?"
Fin looked at her over the rim of his cup. "I think we should."
"Even though we'd essentially be putting a bounty on Bobby's head? You know the minute they find out he's alive, they'll issue a warrant for his arrest."
"I know, and so does Bobby, but if we keep this to ourselves, we'd be risking our careers--"
Fire snapped in Alex's eyes. "You think I give a damn about my career if it means risking Bobby's life?"
"No more than I do," Fin assured her. "But I'm not going to risk getting pulled from this case and letting it get handed to the likes of Ted Waine or any of the other dozen cops in Major Case who've already decided Bobby's guilt. The most important thing to me right now is clearing his name."
Alex closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You're right, I know. I just..." She opened her eyes. "I just don't want to see him arrested."
Fin grinned widely. "You're assuming anybody will find him.
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