Chapter 28
They heard shouting when they arrived at the house. Goren took the hinge side of the door, which meant he would be lead. Washington posted himself opposite, and both drew their weapons. Bobby reached out and knocked, and they heard two gunshots. The two officers gave each other a nod, and Bobby opened the door.
The bottom floor was an open living and kitchen area. There were stairs coming right down the middle of the room. A woman's body was crumpled and bleeding halfway up the stairs.
They moved in carefully, realizing that the perp most likely was upstairs and had a better vantage point than they did. Bobby mounted the stairs and paused only to check for the woman's pulse. She had already bled out. She was dead. He shook his head at his partner and got back to his feet.
It was tricky stepping over the body on the stairs, but Bobby managed to do it without disturbing her. He held his weapon high. "It's Noah, right? That's your name?" Bobby called out. "I'm Bobby."
"She made me do it!" Noah cried, his voice strained with fear.
"I know!" Bobby said, his eyes searching the right side of the room at the top of the stairs, where the voice was coming from. "Y-you tried to talk sense to her, right?"
"She wouldn't listen! I told her not to bring him here!"
"Who, Noah?" Bobby's voice was quiet and calm. "Who did she bring?"
"That damn kid! She brought him and the little bastard's hiding somewhere and she wouldn't leave without him!"
"It's-it's okay, Noah. I'll help you find him." Bobby reached the top of the steps and found himself staring at the barrel of Noah's gun.
Noah was crying and shaking his head, but his grip on the weapon was firm. "No, now I'm gonna have to kill you, too."
"You don't have to do that!" Bobby said, his own gun aimed steadily at the killer. "You can come downtown, you can tell your side of the story."
"I don't want to go back to jail."
"There's bail and a trial. Maybe you won't. You kill me, Noah, you'll definitely go to jail. I'm a cop, Noah."
Washington was nearing the top of the stairs, now, keeping his head low but trying to get a bead on Noah.
There was a crash to the left side of the stairs, and Noah began firing wildly. Bobby fired once and the gun fell from Noah's hand. Goren rushed him and held him until Greg moved in with the cuffs. Bobby left his partner to tend the perp and went off in search of the child.
Greg called the backup officers in from outside. He explained they were searching for another victim, a child, but otherwise the scene was secure.
Bobby heard something behind the loveseat that was tucked against the wall. He slid one end out a little bit and sat on the floor near the open end.
By the time Greg made it over, Goren was on his stomach, his head and torso completely hidden behind the couch. He wriggled backwards slowly, and when he emerged, a little boy, not three years old was clinging to his neck. Bobby patted the child's back and leaned against the wall, finally taking a deep breath himself.
"Clear," Washington said, and soon there was a whole team of officers roaming the house. Goren had a determined look on his face, and the child was secure in his arms. Greg gave him a nod and went over to take charge of the crime scene.
Radio chatter announced that the social worker had arrived and Goren was to bring the child downstairs so he could be taken into protective custody. Bobby didn't budge.
"Greg," he said quietly. "M.E. clear the stairs yet?"
Greg shook his head.
"Tell them I'm not walking him down until the stairs are clear."
"You got it." Greg sent the message.
It took over an hour for the body to be moved from the stairs. During that time, Greg informed Bobby that the boy's name was Jeremy. To her credit, the social worker walked through the crime scene and tried to work with the boy. He only nuzzled against Goren's neck more tightly.
The word was given, and Bobby got to his feet. He carried the child downstairs and to the waiting police unit there.
Jeremy wouldn't let go of Bobby. Goren tried to peel him off, but the child clutched frantically and only wrapped his arms around him tighter.
"Jeremy," Bobby said quietly, "Mrs. Newell is a helper. She wants to help you." Jeremy squeezed Bobby's neck so hard he could feel the child's fingernails digging into his skin.
"Okay, okay, look. I'll go with you, okay Jeremy? You and I, we'll ride in the car together. Okay?" Bobby made sure Greg knew where he was going and ducked into the back of the car, careful not to bump the child's head against the frame as they got in.
Somehow, he managed to get the boy into the carseat that had been strapped there. Bobby held his hand, and spoke quietly with him as they rode to the central intake facility.
It was a high rise full of offices and cubicles. Jeremy settled into Bobby's arms again and they walked upstairs to Mrs. Newell's office.
The child stayed close to Goren, but he did pick up a toy from the floor and start to play. "Detective, I appreciate your help, but you're gonna have to leave him with us," the social worker said quietly.
"What happens to him next?" Bobby asked her, one protective hand drifting down to the boy's back.
"We'll place him in treatment foster care. My staff has already checked his history. He's orphaned, now."
"Treatment… foster…" Bobby didn't like the sound of that.
"I have a really good family in mind," she told him. "They have worked with some of our toughest cases, and always with a positive outcome."
"We'll take care of him, Detective Goren. Thank you for your help." Bobby reluctantly got to his feet. Jeremy promptly threw the toy down and latched onto Goren's leg.
"It's not going to be easy," Newell said, "But you need to go."
The door opened, and a tray of food was brought in for the boy: chicken nuggets, green beans, and corn with a carton of milk on the side. Jeremy's eyes lit up when he saw the food, but he didn't let go of the big detective.
"Come, Jeremy, we'll have some dinner!" Mrs. Newell was as friendly as she could be. She tried everything she could think of, but he wouldn't let go of Bobby, not even for food.
Bobby reached down and picked Jeremy up in his arms. He sat the boy on his lap. "You're hungry, aren't you, Jeremy?" Bobby said quietly. He reached forward and took a piece of chicken from the tray. Jeremy took it eagerly and ate it so fast he nearly choked on it.
"Whoa, whoa, slow down," Bobby said with a smile and a chuckle.
"Detective," Mrs. Newell had a warning tone in her voice.
"I'll just make sure he eats, and then… you know. Then."
Bobby stayed with Jeremy through the meal and long enough to meet his treatment foster parents. Finally, with a guilty heart, he snuck away. He could hear Jeremy's foster mother trying to comfort him as he cried.
Alex had already been home for two hours when Bobby finally came in. He looked like he'd been through the ringer. She kissed him, and then gave him a hug.
"You okay?" she asked.
He grunted something and wandered off to the bedroom to be alone.
