Chapter 14 – More to the Story

October 25, 1998

New York City, NY

10:27 pm.

Father Robert Goren sat in a booth in the front window of a bar, reading a thick book by the light of a neon sign proclaiming "Peter J's" in bright red letters. Mike Logan stood outside in the moonlight and watched him.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Logan walked into his neighborhood bar and made himself at home on his favorite bar stool.

"Warm me up Pete. The ferry's damn cold on a night like tonight," he called to the bartender. Slipping a slim, spiral bound notebook out of the inside pocket of his leather coat, Logan flipped it open, and reviewed some case notes he'd made that afternoon. He felt he was missing something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what.

At the counter of a coffee shop across town Alex Eames sat reading a day old Ledger as she chased the remains of a piece of lemon meringue pie around on a plate with her finger.

They all sat, waiting.

The priest, engrossed in his volume of history, read intently, clerical collar slightly askew. Never taking his eyes off the pages in front of him he would occasionally sip from his glass of amber liquid. Logan watched the priest's reflection in the mirrors behind the bar. The man he was watching should have seemed out of place, but he didn't, and that was another thing Mike couldn't quite figure out.

The woman in the coffee shop was irritated. The person she was waiting for hadn't shown up. She pushed her bangs out of her eyes, and was about to turn and leave when the door of the coffee shop opened. "Whooo! Sure is nippy out there tonight," the newcomer said, her green satin pumps clicking across the floor, and she dropped down on a stool at the counter ordering a sweet black coffee from the waitress.

The priest finished the chapter he was reading, and the scotch he was drinking at nearly the same time. He checked his watch, and then looked towards the bar hoping to signal the bartender for another scotch when he met the green eyes of the cop at the bar, who had swiveled his bar stool around and was leaning back on the bar, one eyebrow raised. "Not out saving souls tonight, father?"

"Who says I'm not, Logan?" Mike's eyebrow went even higher in astonishment at the priest's response.

"You get stood up, honey?" the newcomer asked the blond. Outwardly, the blond shrugged. Inwardly her instincts were suddenly on alert. She sized up the newcomer who was obviously a man dressed as a woman. "You prob'ly don't need any personal advice from someone like me... but when it comes to man troubles, girlie, what I always say is, fix your roots and fix your face, and you'll fix your troubles. Us girls gotta stick together, 'specially if we wasn't born that way."

"You think a dye job'll cure my problems?"

"You come see me tomorrow, and I'll fix up that head of hair for you. You let Sissy do you and, shoot, you gonna haveta chase the men off with a stick."

"You must be some kind of a miracle worker."

"Well, doll, seeing is believing, right?" Sissy dug a card out of her purse and handed it to the blond woman. "I got some free time around two tomorrow. You come see me and I'll give you some highlights you ain't never gonna forget. Now I gotta go, cause I got a big hungry man waiting for me. Bye-bye honey." And with a final swallow of coffee and a turn and a wave at the door of the coffee shop, Sissy left with a swish of pink taffeta and crinolines, wrapped up against the chilly night air in a leopard print fur coat.

Meanwhile, in a pre-war brownstone on the upper west side, a couple was fighting yet again. "God dammit Nancy, don't tell me what I think! As it so happens I DON'T think you're invisible. How on earth could I when you're in here screaming at me every night?!"

"I have to scream to get your attention. If you're not at work, you're here, in your cave, wrapped up in whatever history book you've got your nose stuck in. Do you think the history in these books is more interesting than your own family, Danny, do you?"

Danny's reply was cut short by the ringing of the phone.

The bartender at Peter J's poured two more double scotches, and Mike Logan picked them both up. He slid into the booth opposite and handed the priest the second glass. "You've been pretty wrapped up in that book, Father. Anything interesting?"

"Adlai Copeland's new book Winter of the Patriarchs. I think it's his best one yet. Ever hear of him?"

"Nah, I'm not much of a reader... all I got on my coffee table is the PBA Newsletter and a few magazines I'm NOT reading the articles in," Logan chuckled.

"What's her name?"

"Who?"

"This month's Honey."

"I told ya, man, I ain't reading the articles. She's blond, built, and beautiful ... you know, the Marilyn Monroe type. That's all I need to know."

"You're a classy guy Logan," the priest replied with a twinkle in his eye.

"What about you, Father, what's a priest doing drinking in a bar late at night?"

"Waiting for a friend."

"What's her name?" Logan asked with a laugh.

"Alex," was the steady reply from the priest.

Logan took a sip of his drink, looked at the man sitting opposite him, checked his watch, and after a long pause, said, "Father, can I ask you something?"

The man tersely answered his phone, "Ross." His wife stood and watched him, arms crossed, unwilling to give up any ground.

"Hey Boss," came the voice at the other end of the line, "Morelli here. You said you wanted to be kept in the loop. Eames just phoned in and said she'd made initial contact with her potential CI and that they have a meeting set up for tomorrow afternoon. Prospects look good. The guy's a hairdresser at a salon down in Chelsea. She won't know how much the guy knows till tomorrow, but it sounds promising."

"Sounds like a good lead, Morelli, thanks for letting me know. See if you can dig up anything on the guy before our briefing tomorrow at nine."

"No problem, Lieutenant. Later." With that the cheerful detective hung up her phone and turned to her partner, saying, "I know Ross is kind of a control freak, but has he seemed especially tense to you lately?"

"How can you tell, Morelli? The guy's always wound pretty tight."

"You're a funny man, Brayder, now let's see what a couple of lowly detectives on the night shift can find out about this tranny hairdresser..."

The priest's curiosity was piqued. "What is it Logan?"

"As a priest, you must have some experience getting inside peoples head's right?"

"I've had some experience in that department, why? You got a problem?"

"It's not me, it's this case I'm working on."

"Case? Can I assume from your mention of the PBA newsletter that you're a cop?"

Logan raised his glass to the priest, "guilty as charged."

"So what's the problem?"

"What would a guy with new trophy wife need with a hooker?"

"You been faithful to every woman you've ever been with, Logan?" the priest asked him.

The wife continued to stare at her husband. "Don't even think that we're done talking about this Danny."

"Believe me, Nancy, I know you aren't going to let it go. But whether you like it or not, I have a job to do, and people to protect."

"It's always about other people, isn't it? Well what about your family, Danny? You pay more attention to those drug dealers than you ever do to us!"

"You knew I was a cop when you married me."

"You just don't see it," she sighed. "You've changed. It used to be about doing your job well. Now, it's all about whose ass you can kiss down at One PP."

"That's just not true."

"It is Danny. Maybe you can't see it, but I do. I knew what I was getting into when I married you. But we have two little boys who miss their Daddy. While you're out saving the world, I'm the one at home trying to explain to them why Daddy's never home, why he never spends any time with them."

Danny started to reply," Dammit, that's just not fair, I can't believe you'd lay all this crap on me, Nan. You really are a ..." when he was interrupted by a small voice at the study door, saying, "Daddy?"

Alex had been tempted to go back to the squadroom and change, but she decided she'd wasted enough of her time that evening sitting around waiting for Sissy to show up. She had a change of clothes in her gym bag in the trunk. She could change when she got there. She nudged her car through the cross-town traffic on her way to keep her last appointment of the day. She found a parking place not too far off from her destination, and got out, popping the trunk. She grabbed her duffel, and headed off down the street, headed for Peter J's. She stopped and smiled when, through the front window of the bar she saw the man she was supposed to meet talking animatedly to a dark haired man across from him. "At least he found someone to talk to," she thought to herself. She looked at the two men, and realized there was something familiar about the darker haired man. As she tried to figure it out, she ducked into the bar and approached their table.

"You boys having fun?" she asked stopping by their booth.

She was amused to see her friend stand up, meanwhile his companion leaned back and let his gaze wander, taking in the height of her heels, and the shortness of her skirt.

"Looks like you started the party without me. Why don't you get me a drink, and I'll be right back after I slip into something a little more comfortable." She chuckled, and headed off to find the ladies room, while the priest stepped to the bar and ordered her a drink. While he waited for the bartender he watched Logan's eyes follow her out of the room.

"She could eat you for breakfast, Logan. I'd watch myself."

"You know her?"

"I told you about her."

"I would remember that."

"You asked me the name of the woman I was waiting for, and I told you. Can I help it if you didn't take me seriously?"

"You don't play fair Father."

"Life's not fair, Logan, you of all people should know that."

He turned back to the bar to get the martini the bartender sat in front of him. He saw Alex headed back towards him, now dressed in jeans and a sweater. "How'd it go?" he asked, handing her the drink and motioning her towards his empty seat. "Great, I think. I thought she wasn't going to show, but finally we made contact. I guess sometimes it pays to have friends in low places." They both laughed, and he slid into the booth next to her. She turned to him and asked, "So, who's your new friend?"

"Detective Alexandra Eames, meet Detective Mike Logan."

"Logan? I knew there was something familiar...wait, not THE Mike Logan?"

Logan just shrugged in acknowledgement.

"So how's Staten Island treating you? You know, Bobby, we have a real NYPD celebrity here."

"Go ahead Detective, take your best shot, I've heard them all," Logan growled.

"You do have the nicest friends," Alex replied looking at her friend and sipping her drink. "Relax Logan, I've had a long day and I'm in no mood to argue.

"Look, I can go..."

"Nonsense Logan. What were you two talking about before?"

"Logan's got a dead hooker he's having trouble with."

"How much trouble can she be if she's dead?"

"You should talk to him about this. Eames is Vice, Logan. She might have some good advice for you."

"Ugh. No more work talk at least until I've had my first drink! You talk to him Goren. You were a cop once upon a time."

"What?"

"I bet he didn't mention that to you, did he Logan?"

"Not a peep. Well now, this is very interesting..."

"Logan, it was a long time ago. Army CID doesn't handle a lot of dead hookers."

"Yeah, well, neither does the Harbor Patrol, but there she was floating next to the guy's boat, and I just know there's more to the story."

a/n: I think I'll leave them all here… I know this jumps around a lot, but I'm pretty happy with the flow. Hopefully it's not TOO confusing! It started out with an idea of them all reading (which they all are) and went from there…