Chapter Twenty-five
One Police Plaza, Monday, July 25
A week had come and gone. Seven days, no breaks – and like a persistent fog, the fatigue was starting to settle in low and thick.
From his view from one of the many eleventh floor conference rooms, Goren watched as Eames exited Hannah's office; her small frame gracefully weaving in and out of the geometric maze of desks.
And in the way that she carried herself, not to mention the seriousness of her expression, Goren gathered that her meeting with Hannah had merely served to increase the complexities of their high profile case. As if that were fucking possible.
But before he could dwell on the situation further, Goren's mind was drawn back to staring at his partner's raw beauty. Eames: the sublime lithe creature he'd slowly attached himself to over the past decade. Over this strange transitional summer, a time period where he'd started thinking about her as more than friend, he found himself caught up in a myriad of fantasies. Watching the last rays of natural light highlight the natural curves of her frame, he was suddenly blinded by the irrational desire to have his way with her right here on the eleventh floor.
The pressure and personal nature of the case had taken its toll. They'd narrowed the field to several possible candidates: two of which had been derived from cases Hennigan and Underwood had previously been assigned to, and because of his personal suspicions, Goren had insisted that they try to bring Milletti in for further questioning.
As Eames closed the conference door behind her, he waited in silence as she settled down across from him. Consciously drowning his most recent sexual feelings for her, he continued to wait quietly for her to strike up dialogue.
"Apparently it's easier to drag parolee and cons into interrogation rooms when the totality of your evidence can be likened to a slice of swiss cheese," Eames groaned.
Goren nodded sympathetically, waiting for her to expound.
"You've already had your shot at Milletti. And as I understand it, he won't come in?"
"It's time to apply pressure," Goren paused in thought, before unconsciously gauging his watch: 7:58 p.m. - just another late night at the office.
"An alley full of evidence- ," Eames huffed, her face obscured by a curtain of hair as she flipped through Milletti's LUDs.
"This doesn't piece together right," she looked up from her list, her right index finger resting halfway down the list, a visual bookmark of sorts, "and don't get me wrong – I'm sure Milletti is as quirky as described, but without a real motive, and a lack of damning evidence, it's like we're still at square one. We're going to need to reevaluate our suspect list."
"Milletti's got a uh, I mean, uh, you know," Goren offered, "it's a bullshit alibi. We hardly need a motive given their intimate relationship. If Hannah is willing to give us more time, the gun will turn up."
Eames shook her head in frustration, "I can't believe that the slugs they pulled out were basically useless."
"Not useless," Goren spoke softly, "just not in the system."
She sighed slowly, using both hands to gather her hair to base of her neck. Her jaw was tight; skin pale and taunt.
"Ale-," he started before correcting himself, "Eames, c'mon, let's call it a night."
He felt his heart drumming in his chest, the worry building up from his core. Would she listen? Would she let him take care of her? Would she care if he picked up Milletti and lined him up in the interrogation room all on his own accord?
"You go," Eames muttered, "I've got to get through this list, and then there are a stack of financials, ex-girlfriends, co-workers, family, friends –"
"I've already got a leg up on Milletti's personal relationships," Goren shifted in his chair towards her, "and you know as well as I - that all of the work will be here waiting for us tomorrow, uh, and I want to tell you something."
"No, no," Eames protested, "throughout all our years together I've never asked you to bunk up or call it a day."
But this only egged him on further. He edged all the way over towards her, the arm of his chair now flush against hers, "If we go right now, I bet we can catch the tail end of the sunset."
"What?"
The look of incredulity on her face was priceless, and it did nothing but drive him to continue this irrational course of action. "C'mon Eames, if we leave now we can catch sight of it from the window in the hallway near the western facing stairwell."
His beloved partner looked beyond puzzled.
"A sunset, Eames, you know, when the last rays of light from the sun are visible, uh, when the skyline is illuminated by a diverse range of colors that scatter randomly against thousands upon thousands of airborne particles."
"Are you serious?"
Instead of answering her question, he leaned in inches from her ear and whispered, "Did you know that sunset colors are said to be more brilliant than sunrise colors?"
"Bobby!"
"It's because the evening air is infused with more particles than the morning atmosphere."
He thought, or perhaps he imagined that her shoulders relaxed, but just to seal the deal, he added, "the play of light against the evening atmosphere is unbelievably beautiful," he continued despite himself, nervously biting down on his bottom lip, just inches away from the smooth soft skin of her cheek.
"You can actually see it in between the buildings?"
"In and around the buildings, and i-in reflection," he whispered, his face close enough to hers that he was certain she could feel his breath.
"Then let's go."
Goren smiled, a small shock of hope radiating through his chest. And maybe this was a sign, or a leap of faith; a the turning point that she was going to let him in, let him help her, let him take care of her.
Apartment of Alex Eames, Monday, July 25
After he clambered off her soft luscious body, her body still heaving and covered with tiny beads of sweat, he laid a kiss in the soft depression between her right hip bone and the edge of her ribcage. Flopping over onto his left side, he felt a shiver ripple through his body.
Goren pulled Eames in tighter and waited for her to fall asleep before he let his mind wander to more pressing matters.
How was he going to nail Milletti without falling into the traps that he'd fallen into over the past twelve years? Eames had been kept busy enough by the brass for him to wander off and apply the pressure to Milletti.
And in the tender moment where Eames nestled her head into his chest, Goren made the executive decision that in regards to Milletti, it would be acceptable to cross the line if necessary.
Apartment of Philip Milletti, Tuesday, July 26
"Your boss told me you were taking some time off," Goren spoke through the opening in Milletti's door, a space no more than five inches wide - as a security door chain was still quite visibly attached.
"You of all people should understand why I'm taking a some personal time," Milletti glowered.
Goren discreetly wedged the toe of his left foot through the small opening, "I thought you might be interested in some new information we've uncovered, uh, in regards to your girlfriend's murder."
Milletti expression softened, "you've got new evidence?"
Goren nodded and made the motion as if to open his black leather pad, "uh, you gonna let me in?"
"Wait," Milletti frowned, "where's your partner? How come she didn't accompany you?"
"She's busy, Philip," Goren spoke evenly, "uh, but either way, I'm a little surprised with how I'm being received."
Milletti shook his head in irritation while he started to undo the chain, "is she just for show?"
"I'm sorry?" Goren replied, more concerned with pushing his way into Milletti's small accommodations.
"You know, your partner," Milletti clarified, stepping back before leading Goren into the larger living area, "is she just the mouthpiece? Because you seem to be doing all the grunt work."
Goren's eyes narrowed as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, "I'm not here to talk about my partner, I'm hereto talk with you," Goren paused as he pulled out a faxed file he'd received from their internal forensics team, "this report indicates that a team of forensic scientists have finally identified the slug, tied it directly to a twenty-two caliber gun."
"Really?" Milletti looked genuinely puzzled, "um, can I take a look at that report?"
"I doubt you could make heads or tails of it," Goren baited Milletti, waving the file inches away from Milletti's face before placing it back in his binder.
Goren pushed himself uncomfortably close, using every once of height to his advantage, "You see, the most important question in my mind is why anyone would be interested in pouring over an investigator's report? I would think you'd be happy to hear that detective Eames and I were that much closer in locating the weapon, which would further indicate that Major Case would be one step closer to catching your girlfriend's killer."
Milletti nearly backed into his own sofa, desperately trying to take back some of his personal space, "Just what is it you want detective?"
"Let's talk man to man," Goren edged forward another inch, an action that had Milletti taking refuge on his own couch, "For one, you might not be the key specimen under my microscope if you would simply take the effort to pay me a visit, you know, come down to the station. A painless voluntary question and answer session would suffice."
"Could you guarantee that she'd be there?"
"She's the lead detective on this case, of course she'll be there."
"Okay," Milletti sighed, "I'll come in. Not today mind you, I promised my ailing mother I'd give her a hand with a few errands, but um, first thing tomorrow morning."
"She lives close by?"
"I don't believe that's any of your business detective."
Goren pulled back, "so we'll be seeing you tomorrow morning, by ten?"
"Yes, detective." Milletti bristled.
And with that, Goren felt confident he placed the right amount of pressure on Milletti. He'd also bought them some time to get more information on the gun, and if he played his cards right, he'd hopefully just sent Milletti off to make some classic mistake.
One Police Plaza, Tuesday, July 26
"You did what?"
"I requested immediate surveillance on Milletti."
"Can you fill me in?"
"You've been busy."
"I know," Eames sighed, "I hate my new role."
He winced, feeling relatively uncomfortable about her blatant statement, uncomfortable enough to not know how to respond.
"How did you get him to bite?"
"It wasn't easy," Goren flipped through his black leather binder and pulled out a faxed report, "I just waved this in front of his nose."
"Nice," Eames smiled, squinting at the tiny print, "is that from the Thompson case?"
Goren smiled and nodded back at her, "he'll be in tomorrow, uh, that is, if he doesn't try anything rash tonight."
And for a brief second, he thought he saw a glimmer of hope flash through her eyes.
TBC