Chapter Thirty-five – Steamrolled
"Mrs. Waverly," Henderson sighed, "We really need you cooperation with this investigation."
"I will have no part in these baseless accusations," the woman spat angrily. "My husband is innocent!"
"He admitted his involvement to another detective," Branch reminded her. "We've found other evidence against him."
"Lies!" Mrs. Waverly cried. "He would never be involved with criminals of that sort. Never!"
"Criminals of that sort?" Branch asked. "You mean pedophiles?" he asked bluntly, losing patience with the woman's continued belief in her husband's innocence.
Mrs. Waverly's face flushed, whether with indignation or shame at such a word being used the detectives weren't sure. "Grant is not a…"
"Pedophile," Henderson supplied. This time, Mrs. Waverly's expression was clearly one of anger.
"Absolutely not."
"How can you be so sure?" Branch asked.
"I would certainly know," she blustered.
"So he was never inappropriate with your daughters?" Henderson asked.
"Never!" she snapped. "My girls love their father, he would never..."
"Your girls," Branch interrupted, flipping open a file, "Michelle and Sarah. They're six and nine?"
"Yes," Mrs. Waverly answered stiffly.
"That's about the same age as Hailey Green. You know what her father has been accused of."
"I highly doubt that he did the things you all have been saying," Mrs. Waverly said, in an almost admonishing tone.
"So you know him?" Branch stated. Ms. Waverly nodded. "Through your husband?"
"Yes," Mrs. Waverly replied cautiously.
"The two of them bonded over their shared pedophilic fantasies-"
"That's disgusting!" the woman screeched, jumping up from her seat. "You're sick!"
"We have proof," Henderson informed her. "Photographs of his daughter from a website; one that your husband has accessed on multiple occasions."
"I don't believe that," she repeated.
Henderson and Branch exchanged glances. They didn't like having to put this woman through the ringer, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If she knew anything about her former neighbor, Jonas Slaughter, they needed to know.
"I don't believe what you're telling me, and I am done talking!" The woman stormed out of the room before the detectives could finish questioning her.
"That went swimmingly," Branch commented dryly.
"That woman is being completely unreasonable," Henderson fumed.
"No one would want to admit that someone they've shared a bed with for the past decade is a pedophile," Branch reasoned.
"Well, if she doesn't believe he did it, she could have at least helped us with Slaughter. He orchestrated the kidnapping of six little girls!"
"But admitting his guilt would be like admitting there's a possibility that her husband is guilty."
"Whose side are you on?" Henderson snapped irritably.
Branch was silent for a moment, giving his partner a chance to get a grip on his emotions. "It doesn't matter," he replied. "We can't force her to tell us anything. We have to wait for her to accept the truth in her own time."
"We don't have time," Henderson mumbled, rubbing his fingers over his closed eyes. "Nothing turned up at the daughter-in-law's place, we have no trace of where this guy went…"
"We'll find him," Branch stated firmly. "He doesn't get to get away with this."
"I can't believe this," Mike told Carolyn over the phone.
"Believe what?" she asked.
"Our suspect was shot and killed last night," he informed her.
"Perfect," Carolyn sighed. "How'd that happen?"
"You'll never guess!" Fernandez piped up, loud enough for Carolyn to hear. Mike put his phone on speaker, allowing his partner to tell her without practically shouting in his ear. "It seems that Mr. William Townsend shot himself in his own home last night."
"How lucky for Slaughter that the guy chose tonight," Carolyn commented dryly.
"Yes, well, we can't question him with regard to Slaughter anymore," Mike said.
"But wait," Fernandez interrupted. "Here's the kicker – there was so much sedative in the guy's system that there's no way he would have been conscious to shoot himself."
"He's a talented fellow," Mike added sarcastically, "shooting himself while passed out."
"No kidding," Carolyn agreed. "Well, how about if I meet you down at the morgue in about half an hour?" she asked. "We should try and investigate this case. It has something to do with the big picture."
"I think this big picture is a jigsaw puzzle," Mike sighed. "One that only Slaughter has all the pieces to."
Bobby was finally released from the hospital, having been declared no longer a danger to himself or others, and medically fit enough to be discharged. The first thing he saw was the two detectives who had arrested Alex coming over to him.
"Oh no," he said.
"We need you to come with us for questioning," one of them stated.
"I need to see my wife," he countered. "I'm not going anywhere until I see my wife."
"You don't really have a choice."
Bobby turned to see that the detective's hand rested on the cuffs of his belt. "I'm under arrest?" he asked.
"Or you could come willingly," the other said. "Just come in for questioning, and then we'll let you go see your wife. Remember, if you're arrested you'll be delayed even longer."
Bobby rubbed a hand over his forehead, weighing his options. But what they said was true. If he was arrested, he wouldn't see Alex until at least the next day. "Fine," he said angrily. "But you'd better make it quick."
"Detective Goren," Malloy said as he walked in. "Or do you prefer Mr. O'Donnell?"
Bobby just glared at him, not bothering to answer. "I don't have time for games," he said. "Just get to the point. I need to see my wife."
"Ah, yes," Malloy responded, sitting down across from Bobby. "That's a matter I'd like to discus with you."
Bobby didn't answer. He stared at Malloy, waiting for him to break eye contact.
"I'm here to make a deal, Mr. Goren," Malloy said.
"Really?" Bobby asked. The two still had their gazes locked, scarcely blinking. "I thought I was just to be brought in for questioning."
Malloy grinned. "I think we know all about everything," he said. "I know you'd just cover for your wife anyway. That's why I'm willing to talk deal, right away."
Again, Bobby didn't answer. He remained glowering at Malloy, waiting.
"We are prepared to offer you immunity in exchange for your testimony."
Bobby dropped his scowl, a look of shock spreading across his features. He knew he wasn't guilty… but to be offered immunity on all of the charges they could possibly bring against him? And after they had thrown the book at Alex? He wasn't expecting this at all. But all he said was, "You know I can't testify about anything she told me."
"You can't report anything she said," Malloy replied. "But you can talk about what she did."
"No," Bobby replied.
"Really," Malloy said. "You won't take this opportunity to avoid a prison sentence?"
"I'm not listening to this." Bobby shoved his chair away and stood, ready to leave. He was forced to grip the table instead, the other hand moving along his chest. He waited for the dizziness and nausea to pass before turning back to Malloy. "It's not going to happen."
He walked out. "You'll want to think this over carefully!" Malloy called after him. Bobby slammed the door and left.
Bobby trailed behind Harper, trying not to look like he was bending the rules at all. Harper calmly signed in, handing the log book back to the officer. The officer cleared his throat and indicated Bobby.
"I have the right to bring in associated from my firm," Harper stated calmly.
The guard shrugged, and marked the book before opening the gate. Once they were inside, Bobby breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said.
"No problem," Harper replied. "I know that guards won't let my client-" he broke off, looking embarrassed, "Sorry," he said. "I mean, your wife, have anything to write with, and you won't be able to communicate with her any other way."
"Why are you helping us?" Bobby asked. Not that he wasn't grateful, but he was extremely curious as to why the lawyer would put himself at risk by helping them.
Harper sighed. "Believe it or not detective; I didn't become a lawyer for the money. I actually became a defense attorney to keep innocent people out of prison. Maybe it was naïve of me. I know that plenty of my clients are guilty, maybe even most of them, but I keep at it for the ones who are innocent. And Eames… she just doesn't strike me as guilty. It just seems as though Malloy has completely steamrolled her. I know it's his job, but he seems particularly determined to bring charges against her."
"He's not normally this zealous?" Bobby asked, surprised by Harper's monologue but choosing not to comment on it.
"No…" Harper trailed off thoughtfully. "He's a good ADA; he always plays hardball… but I don't know. He really seems to have it in for her personally."
Bobby stored this information for later as he paced the small attorney/client room, waiting for Alex. "Thank you," he said to Harper again. Harper nodded.
Then the door opened, and Alex was led in. It took all of Bobby's self-control to wait while the guard removed her cuffs and left again. The second he was out of sight, the two rushed towards each other. Bobby lifted her feather-light frame off of the ground, his arms wrapped around her, vice-like. Her arms snaked around his neck, her face pressed against his chest breathing in the scent of him, but to the side, away from the long line running down his breastbone.
He had all but forgotten the pain in his chest. Though he longed to smother her in kisses, he was conscious of her still healing jaw, and contented himself with pressing his lips to the top of her head. They remained wrapped in each other's embrace for a long moment, the world seeming to fade away around them. Finally, they stepped back in order to drink in the sight of each other. Bobby ran his hand over her, feeling each bone jutting out under his fingertips. He had lost weight too, but perhaps being larger to begin with made it not look so shocking on him as it did her.
"Alex," he whispered. A small sigh escaped her, and she leaned into him again. He held her for another minute, running one hand over her hair again and again, convincing himself that she was okay.
They finally turned back to the table in the center of the room, where Harper had the decency to have turned his back and begin sorting through an already clean briefcase.
Bobby and Alex sat down at the table with him. Harper slid a notebook and pen across the table to his client, ready to begin. First he discussed the fact that they would soon be proceeding to trial, and discussing the motions that had been filed already. "You said Malloy talked to you, Goren?" Harper asked.
Bobby nodded, the anger returning. "He offered me immunity in exchange for my testimony against Alex." He turned to her, and said earnestly, "It'll never happen, Alex. I won't do it."
She grabbed the pen and scribbled two words. "No!" Bobby snapped. "I won't!" He slapped his hand over her instruction. Do it. She sighed impatiently and went to write on the notebook again. "No," Bobby repeated. He moved his hands to cover the page, not wanting any argument. "No, Alex. I won't."
She continued to try and find a space to write, with him constantly moving his hands to block her. They continued this silent, juvenile argument until Alex slammed her other hand into the table, glaring at him. Harper, embarrassed, had turned away again, and was reading graffiti on the walls. Bobby slowly withdrew his hands, allowing her to pull the notebook sharply towards herself irritably.
"Oh, Alex," he said upon seeing what she'd written. Rebecca needs at least one of her parents. "I can't do this to you. You're not guilty of this, Alex. We'll both go home together; raise Rebecca together." Alex bent down to write again. You'd better do this, Bobby, or I swear I will never forgive you. "Come on, Alex," he pleaded. She met his gaze, more intimidating than Malloy had been by a long shot.
Harper cleared his throat to get their attention, breaking the intensity of the moment. "Don't forget," he told Bobby, "you may have to answer Malloy's questions, but there's still cross examination. We'll turn your testimony around."
Bobby considered this, remembering Harper's determination to keep innocent people out of prison. He turned back to his wife, meeting her determined gaze. "Fine," he muttered. "I'll do it." He turned back to the lawyer, his gaze hard. "But you had damn well better make sure you convince the jury that she's innocent."