- Goren... You have a call...
Detective Andrews pressed one of the buttons on his phone, transferring the call.
He had a call...
But who could be calling him...
Goren knew that if it was an emergency Eames always called him on his cell phone, and never on the homicide phone.
What did that mean?
Goren definitely did not see who could call him.
He thanked Andrews with a wave of his hand, and brought his hand to the combiner of his phone, which he took between his fingers, picked it up, and positioned it against his ear.
- Detective Goren.
- Detective Goren... This is Detective Green from Homicide. There was a blank, a blank that made Goren shiver. As if he was about to be told some bad news. Your wife was hit by a car.
Your wife was hit by a car.
At these words, Goren's heart stopped.
He dropped the handset from his hand, seeing trouble, and pitched dangerously toward the ground, his face white.
Anything but this.
Not Alex...
It couldn't be.
He could hardly hear the words.
Inspector Green must have been mistaken.
Eames was at this time with their daughter.
Inspector Green must have been mistaken.
And yet...
Eames had not called him to tell him that they were home, and to pass him Francès who loved to tell him about his day, and always asked him if he would be home before she went to bed.
A violent anguish rose in him.
Could it be...
No.
Eames had not paid attention to the time.
That was all.
And she was going to call him at any moment.
But strangely...
As much as he tried to convince himself...
He felt that this was all there was to it.
Just by Detective Green's voice.
My God…
It could only be a nightmare...
And he was about to wake up.
At the sound of the handset banging on the desk, Logan looked up to see a white-faced Goren staggering dangerously toward the floor.
Logan didn't waste a second, he pushed his seat away from his desk, and rushed to Goren's side, catching him just in time, before he collapsed to the floor.
Name of God...
But what had just happened.
That violent reaction of Goren, almost falling to the ground, his face so white.
Something bad must have happened.
He had to know.
- Goren... What's going on...
Goren grabbed onto Logan's arms, trying to get up, but his legs gave out and he fell to the ground, held by Logan.
- Alex...
Name of God...
Just the name of Goren's wife made Logan feel a terrible anxiety.
He didn't like it.
He didn't like it at all.
What could have put Goren in such a state...
Could it be that something bad had happened to Eames.
Goren raised his hand, and pointed to the phone, telling Logan to take it.
With delicacy, Logan helped Goren to get up and sit down.
He stepped away from Goren, and taking the phone handset in his hands, put it to his ear.
- I'm Detective Logan... Goren's partner... Can you tell me what's going on...
- Detective Goren's wife was hit by a car...
At her words, Logan's heart froze with fear.
My God...
So that's why...
He understood better, the reaction Goren had had.
How not to react like that...
When you were told such news.
- The driver fled... A violent anger rose in Logan, he clutched the combiner with all his strength. It happened on the Brooklyn Bridge.
The hit and run driver...
Name of God...
Logan was boiling with rage.
If he could find the person who hit Eames...
He'd kill him with his own hands.
How could anyone do such a thing.
And above all...
To flee.
Not caring if the person was seriously injured.
And not assist him.
The Brooklyn Bridge...
That was the way...
My God...
Frances.
There was no doubt about it.
This was the way Eames would pick up his daughter.
The kindergarten was five minutes from the bridge.
Eames had to be on his way to pick up his daughter.
What the hell...
Goren wouldn't be in any shape to pick up his daughter.
And it was better for the little girl if she didn't see her father like this.
He could already see the drama of Frances crying when he found out that his mother had been hurt.
At this vision, Logan's heart tightened.
He had to find a solution.
He raised his face to the clock.
He looked at the time.
Quarter past seventeen.
My God...
Francès must still be on the porch of the kindergarten waiting for his mother to come.
And the drama...
Eames would never arrive.
And considering what had happened...
Logan couldn't let Goren go get Francès.
He had to ask someone else.
Instinctively his gaze was drawn to a small woman with brown curls a few steps from their offices, reading files.
But yes.
Barek...
But what a good idea.
As Francès' godmother, he could ask Barek to go get Francès.
And with Barek, Francès would be in good hands.
And like that he...
He could try to manage the situation.
Even if he knew it wasn't a win-win situation.
- She was rushed to Brooklyn Hospital...
At the voice on the other end of the phone, Logan snapped out of his thoughts.
- All right... Leave me your contact information, and I'll get back to you.
- I'm Detective Green from Brooklyn Homicide.
Logan hung up the phone and turned to Barek, who was startled when he saw Logan's serious expression.
There was no time to lose.
- Barek... You have to go and get Francès at the kindergarten... He took a pause, and started to look serious. Alex...
At Alex's name, Barek felt an immense anguish rising inside her.
Oh my God...
Had something bad happened...
If Logan asked her to go get Francès...
This was serious.
Carolyn nodded, closed the file she was reading, and stood up.
She headed down the hallway, but on the way stopped in front of Logan.
- You'll have to tell me what's going on...
Logan, with a serious face, nodded.
- Keep Frances with you until I call you.
God...
Barek didn't like it.
Being in complete darkness...
And not knowing what was going on.
If something bad had happened to Eames...
She wanted to know.
After all...
She was her dearest friend.
But knowing Logan...
Barek knew she would have to wait to find out.
But first...
She had to go find Francès.
Because considering the time it was, the daughter of Goren and Eames must have been worried sick that no one had come to get her.
Especially when that person was her beloved little mother.
Good God...
What could she say to Francès if she asked him why it was her who came to look for her, and not her mother...