Chapter 6 – Friend

The sleek silver and white behemoth holding court at Slip 52 was not at all what she expected.

As Alex and Bobby ambled down the bustling piers of the central waterfront, they fought for space with an eclectic blend of meandering tourists, weary fishermen lugging bedraggled nets and smartly dressed professionals recently disgorged from the local ferry. As day transitioned to evening, business was rapidly giving way to pleasure around the harbor, the commercial vessels retiring to their slips while the smaller, sportier recreational crafts set out on the water. Overhead, gulls screamed as they circled the boats, seeking a snack.

The Bookworm was moored along one of the private piers. The glitter of the setting sun off the water made her shimmer like a mirage. At almost twenty feet tall, she towered over the wharf and dwarfed the boats on either side. Beneath the dock, the water of the bay lapped impotently against her massive fiberglass hull, sloshing and slurping among the pilings and buoys.

"Holy cow." Eyes wide, Alex pushed her gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses up on top of her head. "I thought you said it was a boat. This is no boat. This is a yacht."

Beside her, Bobby had shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis and was gaping up at the beast before them, neck craned to take it all in. "Eunice just said it was a boat. I had no clue that it was, uh . . . this."

"Well I'm officially under dressed." She glanced down at her denim skirt and halter top with dismay. "And clearly in the wrong line of work. How in the world does she afford this on an editor's salary?"

Bobby shook his head, dragging a hand absently through his wavy hair. "I remember her mentioning that her husband was in the crude oil business. Obviously, they are doing all right for themselves."

"Obviously," Alex muttered. She nudged the massive metal cleat that secured The Bookworm's lines with the toe of her sandal. "I'm pretty sure that the bathroom in this thing is going to be larger than my entire apartment."

"Yoohoo, Robert!"

A shrill voice from above startled them both. They looked straight up to see a plump woman with steel grey pin-straight hair leaning over the side of the boat, waggling her fingers at them in a wave. The sleeves of her brightly patterned caftan looked like pooling paint against the bright white of the hull.

"Come aboard, come aboard!"

Bobby led the way to the back of the boat where a steel mesh gangplank awaited. Walking carefully up the short bridge, he gripped the railing and hopped down onto the rear deck, Alex trailing behind him. When she went to hop down, a more challenging mission given her short stature, he seemed to debate offering her a hand. He started to extend one and then, with an awkward twisting motion, brought it back to his side.

Their host greeted them as soon as they stepped foot on the boat. Clad in a floppy sunhat and a pair of dark sunglasses and with her legs hidden away under the caftan, she appeared to almost float toward them, a martini glass full of flamingo pink liquid clutched in one hand, a fragrant cloud of perfume not far behind.

"You're the first to arrive!" Eunice gave Bobby a quick hug then kissed the air on either side of his cheeks. "I'm so glad you were able to join us."

"Thank you for the invitation." Stepping aside to give his editor a better view, Bobby gestured to Alex. "This is Alexandra Eames, my partner. Alex, this is Eunice, editor extraordinaire."

Alex held out her hand for a handshake, but Eunice only grabbed it to pull her closer and repeat the air kiss exercise cheerfully. "Well, aren't you simply gorgeous? You are a lucky man, Robert. I didn't realize you were seeing someone. How long have you been together?"

"Oh n-no," Alex stammered, shaking her head fervently. "It's not that kind of partner."

Bobby made a guttural noise that could have been either a suppressed laugh or a strangled cough and Alex glared at him before continuing.

"Bobby and I worked together on the Major Case Squad."

"Oh!" Clapping her hands together, Eunice emitted a delighted squeal. The movement sent her caftan fluttering around her arms like oversized wings. "Isn't that just perfect! I've been dying to get the inside scoop on my newest author!"

Motioning for them to follow, she spun on her heel gracefully and headed for a set of open glass doors.

"Come in, come in. We need to get you both a drink."


The washroom of The Bookworm may not have been larger than her apartment, but the main deck certainly was.

The main level of the yacht consisted of a kitchenette, a modern dining area, and a lounge, all floored in glossy teak and painted a fashionable grey. The rectangular dining table, with its purple-veined marble top, was bolted to the floor but the chairs surrounding it slid around freely. There was little need for any sort of restriction really; the sheer size of the yacht buffered them from experiencing the rise and fall of the water. Not even the beer bottles, stationed on the slick surface of the table, shifted with the tide. Below deck, there were four small cabins and a simple washroom for more lengthy travels. As the trio sat relaxing in the wicker chairs on the main level, they could hear the footfalls of the crew on the upper level, preparing the vessel for departure.

Eunice's high-pitched laughter echoed in the enclosed space. "He didn't!"

"He totally did." Alex grinned, mindlessly watching condensation slide down the side of her beer bottle and pool around the base. "Stood there in the middle of the road, dressed like a mailman, dancing to music only he could hear. If you can call what he did dancing. And it was all just to suss out if there was anyone home at the suspect's house."

Eunice's eyes sparkled with newfound appreciation as she looked over the rim of her glass at Bobby, who sat slouched in his chair, fidgeting. "I just can't imagine that."

"I couldn't either. And then I saw it." Crossing her legs, Alex chuckled and took a swig of beer. "Bobby always had this uncanny ability to effortlessly slip into a character when needed. He plays a part very well. He could always be whatever a suspect or witness needed him to be – a bumbling detective, an empathetic friend, an Armani employee, a charming date, you name it.

"Now that I CAN imagine." Eunice patted Bobby's hand, the bangles on her wrist chiming together. "I've always found him quite charming. Right from our very first meeting at the publisher. My boss told me that he had some fascinating stories to tell. From what I've read so far of his book, she was absolutely right. Has he let you read any of it yet, Alex?"

It was Bobby who stepped in quickly to field that question. "Alex doesn't need to read it. She lived it."

A swell of pride erupted in Alex's gut in response to that statement, that remarkable feeling of being part of something important. Subconsciously she clawed desperately at it, trying to capture and bottle it. The invisible steel rod that had been erected between her shoulder blades loosened a little and she found she could sit up a bit straighter.

"Well, I am looking forward to reading it someday. When he's ready to share."

Eunice reached across the table to grab a handful of cashews from a black and white striped bowl. "Let's give Alex at least a little bit of a preview. What are you writing about right now Robert?"

"The, uh, Miles Stone case."

Eunice leaned forward excitedly. "The magician, right? Wasn't he killed by the other magician? I remember reading about that case in the paper."

Alex remembered it too, but she was surprised to discover that the details of the case were not what was most vivid in her recollection. The visual that came to mind readily was actually a snippet from a quiet moment, when she and Bobby were in the suspect's dressing room, waiting for him to finish his show. Bobby had shown her a card handling trick where he spread a deck of cards down his arm and then smoothly flipped them over. When he had looked up at her after successfully pulling off the trick, the smile on his face had been broader and more genuine than she had ever seen it in all the years of their partnership. It had highlighted how incredibly handsome he was. Just the memory of it made butterflies dance in her stomach.

Promptly pushing away that vision, Alex tilted her beer bottle to point in Bobby's direction. "You should have seen Bobby on THAT case, Eunice. He was a kid in a candy store, playing with all the magician's props. I was convinced that after we solved the case he was going to quit and start up his own magic shop."

Eunice eyed Bobby thoughtfully and he ducked his head shyly. "You are certainly an enigma, Robert. I'm so glad that you brought Alexandra today. I'm learning so much about you. You must have been great fun to work with!"

It was Bobby's turn to laugh but it lacked any mirth.

"No, that's definitely not true. Alex put up with a lot of crap for uh, a long time." His face was somber as he stared intently at his beer bottle as though he could see through it. "Her career was hindered by me. She probably would have been Chief of D's right now, if it weren't for the fact that she was my partner."

Chief of D's? Ha! I can barely get myself out of bed in the morning.

"That's not true," Alex argued, eyes drifting out one of the tinted port windows to watch a sailboat breeze by. "I made my own choices, Bobby."

"Yeah. Choices you might not have had to make if it weren't for me." Bobby scrubbed roughly at the ring of condensation staining his ceramic coaster with a thumb.

She shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. I can definitely say it was never dull, that's for sure. There were good times . . . and there were bad. Some very bad." Unbidden, a new, less pleasant memory floated to the surface, this one of the time he had gone undercover and shut her out of his life. Years later, that still stung.

Swallowing hard to ground herself again, Alex turned her gaze to Eunice. "Bobby was both a lot of fun and . . . at times . . . unpredictable, tempestuous. He had some horrible things happen in his life during his time at Major Case, so it was understandable but hard to watch. That said, he is the most brilliant profiler and gifted detective that I have ever met. Despite the ups and downs, I wouldn't change a thing."

A muscle in Bobby's jaw worked, jumping and twitching beneath the skin. Alex had never seen him cry before, even at his own mother's funeral, but she could have sworn that his eyes were glistening with tears now. He held her gaze for only a moment before clearing his throat, pushing back his chair and standing up.

"I'm going to use the restroom and get another drink. Would either of you like anything?"

The women declined and Bobby retreated to the back of the cabin, where a set of stairs led below deck. As soon as he was out of earshot, Eunice leaned closer to Alex, a mischievous smirk on her lined face.

"Okay, now that he's gone, I want all the juicy details. How long had you guys been partners the first time you slept together?"

Mid-sip, Alex nearly choked. "Bobby and I? No! Hell no! Never."

The older woman leaned back and wagged a playful finger at her. "Now don't you lie to me young lady. I've read chapters of Bobby's book, remember. I've heard all about the criminals you put behind bars. I know how much time you spent together on cases, the long hours that you both put in, the terrible things that you witnessed. You held each other's lives in your hands. That has to bring you close, very close. And when a man and a woman get that close, well, things happen."

"Sure, sometimes they do," Alex agreed carefully, drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair. "And when there is a professional partnership involved, it almost always messes things up. People lose their positions, their marriages, their families. The work has always been very important to me, and to Bobby. And, in time, so was our partnership. We wouldn't have done anything to jeopardize that."

"Surely you thought about it," Eunice insisted, resting her elbows on the tables and tenting her fingers. "You must have been tempted, even if it was just in a moment of weakness."

Her reply breezed out easily as if rehearsed. Perhaps it had been.

"Never. I care about Bobby deeply, yes. But he's like a brother to me. I don't have romantic feelings for him. At all. And I'm sure he would say the same about me."

Eunice shook her head slowly, lips curving into a smug smile. "I'm not so sure about that. I may be old, but I'm not blind. I've seen the way he looks at you."

Outside, a called greeting and the clatter of feet on the gangplank jerked their attention from the conversation.

"Ah! More guests have arrived. Come, and I'll introduce you." Wrapping her caftan around herself artfully, Eunice stood and floated off in the direction of the back deck, leaving Alex sitting alone at the table, beer gripped tightly in her right hand, too dumbfounded to move.


The Portland skyline was impressive at night.

Two miles out from shore, the night lights of the high rises blurred together to create pillars of illumination in the bay. Neon signs blinked and flickered and added splashes of color to the architectural display. From out on the water, the city had all the visual charm of a glittering carnival. Standing separate and at a distance from the urban center were twin lighthouses, one on the point and one on an island in the bay, flashing a simple white beacon every six seconds.

The wind had picked up and as The Bookworm turned back toward the harbor after a leisurely cruise around the bay, it collected spray from the bow and distributed it as a fine mist. The other guests had disappeared inside, complaining of a chill, but Alex and Bobby had elected to remain sitting on the padded bench in the bow, watching the city grow as they approached land. Patio lanterns dangled over their heads and Alex turned her face up to embrace the tiny droplets that speckled her skin.

Bobby wiped his palms along the seams of his khakis. "Thanks, uh, for coming with me tonight."

Alex waved that away dismissively. "No problem. You didn't need me though. You did just fine with everyone."

It was true; she had watched the new Bobby charm all of the guests with ease over the course of the evening, regaling them with stories and demonstrations of his impressive breadth of knowledge.

Bobby shrugged, stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. "Yeah, it was okay. Still not really, my . . . uh, thing. Everyone was nice though."

Alex nodded, scratching lightly behind her ear. "People seem so much nicer here than back home."

He considered that for a moment, interlacing his fingers behind his head. "I thought that when I first got here too. Not sure it's true though. I think people here are just more open and approachable, whereas New Yorkers are more closed, guarded. It's a necessary survival mechanism in a busy and crowded city. Underneath it all, New Yorkers are every bit as nice as these people. You just have to dig a bit to find it."

"Thank you, Dr. Goren." Alex rolled her eyes. "Well isn't that an ironic bit of insight."

"What do you mean?"

She chortled lightly. "Spoken by someone who for the longest time was the king of closed and guarded."

Bobby acknowledged that with a nod of his head but seemed distracted and the conversation died for a few moments. When he spoke next, his tone seemed tentative.

"Hey, what you said earlier? About, uh, . . . not wanting to change anything? Did you mean that?"

"Of course," Alex snapped, suddenly inexplicably annoyed at having to reiterate that yet again.

How can you not know how much I liked working with you? I basically announced it in front of a courtroom full of people at one point. If I hadn't, I would have bolted years ago, like everyone told me to.

"Well it was really nice of you to say, in front of Eunice. I know it wasn't, uh, easy. You had to work really hard sometimes . . . to save me from myself."

"You're welcome." Feeling discomfited by Bobby's sudden burst of gratitude, waiting for the other shoe to drop, Alex shifted her weight on the bench and tried to change the subject. "You know what I find funny?"

"What's that?" Leaning back, Bobby stretched his arm along the top of the padded bench. Although that put his hand near her shoulder, she noticed he was careful to avoid contact. It was a sharp contrast to how he had sat with Faith earlier that afternoon. After . . .

With that thought, her defenses immediately shored up and she stiffened, pressing back into the bench to ensure no part of her arm brushed his fingers. "The number of people who actually think we are stupid enough to have slept together."

Surprised at this rapid about-face in the conversation, Bobby let out a snort of laughter. The mist had dampened his hair and he slicked it back with his hand. "I know. It's pretty ridiculous. Let me guess - it was, uh . . . Eunice who asked."

Alex nodded. "Didn't help that you introduced me as your partner."

Bobby grinned. "Sorry about that. Old, uh, habits die hard. You know, I had a very similar "it's not that kind of partner" conversation with Frank many years back."

"You did?"

"Yeah. That first day you saw him, at the soup kitchen. He asked me if you were my, uh . . . wife."

Alex barked out a laugh to cover an unwelcome frisson of . . . what? Excitement?

"You never told me that before."

"Yeah." Bobby's face darkened suddenly, as if he were remembering something unpleasant. "Frank was definitely one of the people who was convinced there was something going on between us."

Watching the mysterious thunderclouds amass above his head, Alex quickly pushed on. "Well, he's not alone. I don't get it. Why do people think it's impossible for a man and a woman to just be friends?"

Bobby grunted in agreement, his features relaxing slightly. "Pretty sure I've said something similar a time or two in the past."

Filled with an irrational urge to test Eunice's theory from earlier, Alex said nonchalantly "As if you would have ever thought of me in that way. Let's be real - I'm not at all your type."

He took the bait, turning to look at her with a laugh.

"Are you kidding me? I had such a huge crush on you when we worked together."

If she had been dumbfounded by Eunice's comment earlier, she was completely shocked now, having received an answer she honestly hadn't expected. "What?"

Bobby smiled sheepishly. "I know, it's stupid and it was wrong. I would never have admitted it. Not to you, not even to myself. But I can see it now. Thanks in large part to my work with Dr. Gyson, who helped me unravel that particular snarl of, uh, yarn."

Alex's heart had started to pound so loudly she was convinced they could hear it back on the mainland. Despite the cool mist rising off the bay, she felt almost feverish.

"Yeah, right. You're yanking my chain."

"No, I'm serious." Bobby chuckled. "I had a silly schoolboy crush. I would never have acted on it though, even if I had been able to admit it to myself. I was hardly a desirable romantic partner, I knew that. And the thought of, uh, possibly ruining our work relationship terrified me. I was just so desperate for acceptance and you were the only person back then who accepted me. It made me fall for you . . . hard."

Speechless, Alex sat motionless on the bench, staring at him, desperately trying to find an appropriate response. Sensing her discomfort, Bobby removed his arm from the back of the bench and nudged her playfully with his elbow.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out. I'm over it, I swear. I've, uh, moved on. I'm not about to start hitting on you. Don't worry. You are more like a sister to me now."

Well, you got that one wrong, Eunice.

Feeling inappropriately disappointed, Alex pasted a wide grin on her face. "I'm not worried. We both know that if you ever tried anything, I could kick your ass."

Bobby laughed. "I may not be the most socially adept person ever, but . . . uh, I knew you were out of my league, even back then. I wasn't deluded enough to think that I would ever have had a chance, even if the circumstances were different. You are smart, kind, compassionate, funny, and, uh, beautiful. If anything, it's ME that's not YOUR type. You never would have gone for a messed-up loner like me. I feel lucky just to have you as a friend."

With Portland's shore looming imminently ahead, The Bookworm's captain eased up on the throttle and the yacht shuddered as she slowed, her bow still cutting effortlessly through the waves. Carefully, they maneuvered among the rest of the traffic in the harbor.

Bobby stood and straightened the collar of his shirt. "I'm going to head in, thank Eunice for the tour."

"Sure, sure. I'll be right behind you," Alex mumbled as Bobby slipped past her and vanished without another word.

Alone now, she sat out on the bow until The Bookworm coasted expertly back into its slip, bumping gently against the protective buoys that lined the wood.