Vestry Street, Soho

"Al are you...?"

Jack halted in the doorway of their room, taking in the bag on the bed and items laid around it.

Alex pulled a top from a drawer and held it up "How hot is it in Southern Arizona this time of year?"

"No idea" he growled "And I guess that's my next question answered"

With that, he turned on his heel with the two sacks of groceries, headed to the kitchen.

Eames paused in her selection, knowing that on this occasion her fiancé was liable to be less understanding. They were supposed to drive up to Connecticut this evening. To have dinner and spend the rest of the weekend with Julie and Andy and little Dawn. Julie was the only one of his three kids Jack had any kind of relationship with and he had not seen his granddaughter since just before Christmas.

She followed him and although they didn't exactly fight, it was a tense conversation as they unpacked the shopping.

"Leave that one to me" said McCoy quickly snatching the second bag from her reach.

He did not want Alex to see the shiny folder containing the tickets and details for the surprise honeymoon he had also booked while he was out.

"And who is going to back you up while you run round the desert tracking down a suspected murdering paedophile?" he muttered.

"If he's still alive he's a guy in his seventies Jack...take this cheese will you?"

"So?"

It occurred to Eames that it never seemed to worry McCoy who was with her when she was "running around" Manhattan after younger, probably more dangerous suspects. But pointing that out was not going to help the situation.

"Chater from Arizona State will meet us" she shrugged "And besides, Bobby is going with me"

"That's something" he muttered.

She only came to harm one time when they were partnered and that was hardly Goren's fault.

"Just a...I thought he was supposed to be in LA?"

"Yeah...well...um...Caro and Joel have gone on ahead"

McCoy did not pursue that. He and Caro could commiserate with each other some other time.

"Maybe fifty five degrees?" he shrugged.

Eames smiled "You're sure?"

"No"

He pulled her into his arms, held her close and started nuzzling her neck.

"How soon do you have to go?"

"Too soon for what you have in mind" she replied pushing his hips away from her.

St Luke's Place, Greenwich

Unable to get hold of Caro, Goren had called their friends in LA so she would know what was happening. "Her" friends more than "theirs" since Amy and John had both been at college with his wife. The couple of times he'd met them he had always sensed Amy, if not her husband, was rather cool, even suspicious of him.

As if Caro might have "done better", though he was prepared to accept that might be down to what she once said were his "well disguised self esteem issues". Whatever it was, he knew the conversation with Amy had done nothing to improve her opinion of him.

And typical of the phone to ring when he was still wet from the shower.

"Goren"

"Hi y'all" said the voice of Art Drummond "Got the message Bobby and I got a name for y'all"

The idea had come to him on the drive home that a cop local to the Clemente area, especially one who had been there many years, would be more use to he and Eames. More use than a detective from the State Police was apparently none too pleased to have two NYPD detectives foisted upon him. Making him and others look bad amid the "shitstorm" that was already brewing in the whole legal community about the mistakes in the "London/I17" Killer case. One Chater feared was only a matter of time before it hit the media.

Speaking to Sheriff Drummond, Goren wished he had three hands. One to hold the receiver, one to write on the pad by the phone and one to hold onto the fast slipping towel.

JFK Airport, Queens, New York.

As Eames' cell began to chirp, Goren took from her automatically the carry on into which she had managed to cram what she hoped was all she would need for a couple of days.

"Eames? Oh hello Monsignor..."

Goren set his folder and pen on the first vacant table of the coffee shop and pointed across the concourse. She nodded in understanding he was off to do what he said as they waited to check in his bag. See if he could charm some kind of deal from the airline on the unused half of his ticket to LA and get a flight to there from Phoenix on Tuesday. Bobby had not said much beyond he'd hire a car and drive there if he had to. And Eames was sure he both meant it and would be in deep trouble if he did not stick to the plan this time.

By the time he returned, she been able to get them both a cup of the sludge that passed as coffee at most airports she had ever been through.

"Any luck?" she asked as he pulled the seat under him.

"Got a flight. What did Miller have to say?"

Eames passed him her notes and watched him checking some dates off against a timeline he had printed from the basic website of the Mission of Our Lady and St Lucy.

"Kind of fits" she observed.

"More so if we can narrow down more exact dates from some kind of curator Eames"

"Let's hope Chater is successful in locating someone" she said watching a woman who was apparently travelling alone.

Struggling with a baggage cart and two fractious kids.

Delta 4185 JFK/Sky Harbour, Phoenix

By the time they had reached cruising height, Eames was aware that Goren was asleep. Like her he probably needed to catch up on some, but it was what she had seen him do frequently on the occasions they had flown together. Made her life easier too, because if he wasn't sleeping or didn't have something interesting to read, Bobby was a nightmare.

Fidgeting about in a seat space she knew was uncomfortable for him and the time they flew to Vietnam, she could have happily pushed him out of the plane over the Pacific. He'd slept, finished his own book, read the in flight magazine and the safety leaflet. Was, like her, bored of the movie in ten minutes and she had snatched her magazine back from him the moment he tried to discuss with her what she found "erotic". She had forgotten about that article when she offered it to him.

Somehow she managed to slide Goren's folder from the seat pocket against which one denim clad knee was jammed. Eames felt she really ought to acquaint herself rather better with the history and geography of this mission they aimed to see tomorrow.

Sky Harbour Airport, Phoenix, Arizona

It was dark and rather strange to see the stars after the heavy cloud seemed to have hung over New York for weeks. It was also noticeably warmer as the younger cop who had accompanied Dave Chater, hefted their bags into the rear of the SUV being loaned to them.

He gestured them to the Ford saloon also parked in the "no waiting" zone and Goren made automatically for the rear. From where he was sitting it was obvious the detective had either resigned himself to the situation or been ordered to. Making only mildly positive or at worst, neutral comments in response to what Eames was saying about their discoveries and theories.

Goren tried not to get frustrated he could not read the thin folder of material Chater had handed them. Additional information Monsignor Miller had faxed through to State Police HQ while he and Eames were in flight. But Chater had broken the good news Pike was still alive and living in Phoenix.

"Even supposing you're right" he said manoeuvring through traffic "I don't see how you will prove any of this. I doubt there will be anything in the way of forensic or other evidence left to find"

"You never know" said Eames neutrally and resisting the temptation to point out that had not prevented a jury from convicting the wrong man in the London case.

"Perhaps he's ready to confess?" the AZ detective mused.

They had already agreed on the plane that was their best hope, but knew they would have to dig up something more on Father Pike before they could even consider him more than a potential witness.

To be continued...