Captain Hanna entered the squad room and eight am on the dot. Eames was sitting at her desk studying a file. "Good morning, Detective." He stopped at her desk. "You ready?"
Eames looked up. "Always, sir." Hanna admired her confidence.
"Alright. Call everyone to the briefing room. I'll be there in five." He turned towards his office to take off his coat and lay his briefcase on his desk. He looked out over the room. A twinge of disappointment set in. I was sure he'd show. Not wanting to show his defeat, he exited his office and made his way across the room to where the briefing would be held. The many side conversations that filled the room silenced the moment the captain walked in. I'll never get used to that. He took his place behind the podium and began to speak.
"I've called you here to receive a briefing from the new lead detective on the case, Detective Alexandra Eames. She will be your boss. You answer to her and she answers to me. Any questions?" No one spoke up or raised a hand. "Detective." He motioned towards Alex. She took the podium in his place.
"We now have seven women on the death total. All of them Caucasian, brunette, between the ages of 25 and 35. The killer knocks them out with chloroform, bounds them and makes a series of cuts along their extremities and back. New information has pointed out that the cuts on the latest victim have a distinct pattern. They spell out the words 'no more'". She pauses to gauge their reaction. "Any questions?" A young man with dark black hair and a grey suit raises his hand. "Yes?"
"Do we have any idea who this guy could be?" All eyes shifted from the man to Alex who was looking at Hanna. She opened her mouth to form some type of explanation when a voice from the back filled the silence.
"He's being controlled." Eames and Hanna looked up in shock. Everyone turned around to see the identity of the unknown voice. It was Bobby Goren. He was standing there in dark blue jeans, a red flannel shirt with a black undershirt and a brown zip-up sweatshirt that was zipped half way up. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down when he realized just how many eyes were on him.
"What do you mean controlled?" Another voice with an unknown origin questioned.
"That's what 'no more' means." Bobby moved his elbows back and forth slightly and his placed back against the wall. "Someone or something is controlling him. Only he knows for sure. He knows what he's doing is wrong but some force is keeping him from ending it." He chanced a look up. People were making notes while Eames looked at him with an expression of relief. Bobby didn't say anything else and resumed looking at the floor only this time bouncing his back on the wall with a rhythmic pace.
"Any more questions?" Hanna inquired. None. "You're dismissed."
"Whatever you said, Captain, it must have done the trick." Eames smirked. Hanna looked at Bobby.
"Yeah. He's still got it." They nodded in agreement and headed towards Bobby. If only Goren had heard the praises he was receiving. His mind was overflowing with self-doubt.
The captain and Eames walked up to him. He was still not making eye contact. "Well done, Bobby." Hanna patted him on the elbow. The way Goren flinched did not go unnoticed. "Sorry. I forgot about that." He was sincere and Bobby brushed it off. Alex stared at them. What was that about? "Why don't you go wait in my office, ok?"
Bobby popped of the wall. "Ok." When he was out of ear shot, Eames turned to the captain.
"What was all the flinching about?" Eames was curious. Who wouldn't be?
"I honestly don't know. He's been that way for as long as I've known him." Hanna shrugged.
Bobby was waiting in the office. His thoughts were all jumbled in is head. One overlapping the other. It was getting harder and harder to focus. Why are you doing this, Nicole? Because I can, Bobby. A man of your talents shouldn't be confined to the spaces of being in the middle. Live on the edge. It's much better out here. He shook the thoughts away. Eight years. Eight years and he could still hear her voice as clear as if she was standing right in front of him. His palms were cold and sweaty and he could feel the perspiration gather under his clothes. I can't be here. He barreled through the office doors and almost sprinted to the stairs. The detectives in the room didn't witness the scene. All of them were too busy working on their assignments. All but one. Alex Eames.