July 29, 12 Noon
"Well, she likes you," Eames commented dryly as they sat down to a stack of faxes from Nebraska and Pennsylvania.
Goren shrugged. "That may be true, actually. Her brother was the only family who ever took care of her. He hints in his book that their mother was extremely abusive. She probably . . . relies more on men than women."
Eames raised an eyebrow. "But the letter from her cousin says she killed her father. And this," she held up a fax from Pennsylvania, "confirms it."
Goren shrugged and began reading. First the information on Karen, from Nebraska. Drugs, prostitution, petty theft, domestic violence - typical small town loser. Nothing of real interest, no indication of past extortion schemes. But then, Amy and her brother were probably the only ones she knew worth blackmailing. And they were hardly likely to report it.
He sighed and moved to the file from Pennsylvania. The death of Nathan Baldwin.
2 PM
Eames showed Detective Jones to her and Goren's workstation. He sat uneasily, glancing from one to the other.
"Relax, Phil," Eames began, "We don't think you did anything."
Phil did not relax. "You want to know about Amy. I have to tell you, I really like her. She's a great girl. Sweet. She's just not capable . . ."
"Phil, she killed her father." Goren interrupted.
"That was different. Self-defense. Anyway, I think you got the wrong person."
Eames smiled. "Then convince us. You dated Amy."
"About a year and a half ago. God, I fucked that up good."
"How?"
Phil grimaced. "I got . . . really curious about her. I met her through Rick, and he wouldn't talk about her past, and she . . . well, I never asked her directly. So I called the police department in that town in Pennsylvania she lived in. Got the report on her father's . . ."
"And she got mad. Dumped you." Goren said.
Phil nodded, shamefaced. "She and her brother still kept in touch with some of the cops down there. She . . . came to the station, confronted me about it. Except she, she didn't yell or cry. She just looked really . . . liked I'd ripped her heart out. She looked at me like she would have looked at her father. Anyway, I got defensive and said some things. Then she got mad. I'd never seen her go nonverbal before."
Goren leaned in. "What did you say?"
"I said I did it because I was worried, on account of her and her brother. I found them in bed together, but . . . look, she was scary mad. But she didn't even hit me."
"In bed together?" Eames exchanged glances with Goren. "Can you describe that a little better?"
Phil looked from one detective to the other, and then shook his head. Definitely not a good day to go to work.
"Well, she likes you," Eames commented dryly as they sat down to a stack of faxes from Nebraska and Pennsylvania.
Goren shrugged. "That may be true, actually. Her brother was the only family who ever took care of her. He hints in his book that their mother was extremely abusive. She probably . . . relies more on men than women."
Eames raised an eyebrow. "But the letter from her cousin says she killed her father. And this," she held up a fax from Pennsylvania, "confirms it."
Goren shrugged and began reading. First the information on Karen, from Nebraska. Drugs, prostitution, petty theft, domestic violence - typical small town loser. Nothing of real interest, no indication of past extortion schemes. But then, Amy and her brother were probably the only ones she knew worth blackmailing. And they were hardly likely to report it.
He sighed and moved to the file from Pennsylvania. The death of Nathan Baldwin.
2 PM
Eames showed Detective Jones to her and Goren's workstation. He sat uneasily, glancing from one to the other.
"Relax, Phil," Eames began, "We don't think you did anything."
Phil did not relax. "You want to know about Amy. I have to tell you, I really like her. She's a great girl. Sweet. She's just not capable . . ."
"Phil, she killed her father." Goren interrupted.
"That was different. Self-defense. Anyway, I think you got the wrong person."
Eames smiled. "Then convince us. You dated Amy."
"About a year and a half ago. God, I fucked that up good."
"How?"
Phil grimaced. "I got . . . really curious about her. I met her through Rick, and he wouldn't talk about her past, and she . . . well, I never asked her directly. So I called the police department in that town in Pennsylvania she lived in. Got the report on her father's . . ."
"And she got mad. Dumped you." Goren said.
Phil nodded, shamefaced. "She and her brother still kept in touch with some of the cops down there. She . . . came to the station, confronted me about it. Except she, she didn't yell or cry. She just looked really . . . liked I'd ripped her heart out. She looked at me like she would have looked at her father. Anyway, I got defensive and said some things. Then she got mad. I'd never seen her go nonverbal before."
Goren leaned in. "What did you say?"
"I said I did it because I was worried, on account of her and her brother. I found them in bed together, but . . . look, she was scary mad. But she didn't even hit me."
"In bed together?" Eames exchanged glances with Goren. "Can you describe that a little better?"
Phil looked from one detective to the other, and then shook his head. Definitely not a good day to go to work.