Deakins stepped in.

Bobby opened his mouth to speak.

But the Captain held up his hand to stop him.

"There is nothing. No justification, Goren. I could bust your ass down to beat cop right now, I truly could. And there's plenty who'd get in line behind me to cheer that on. You've done crazy things before, but not stupid. You just slammed a guy against a wall while his lawyer was in the room..." Deakins shook his head in disbelief, "You think even you can slick out of this, Goren?"

"Captain..." began Alex. She stood to cross to him.

"Save it, Alex. Not even you can fix this for him," he looked back to where Bobby sat at the table, his eyes downcast. "Bobby, I wanted to slam him myself for what he said about her. But we don't do it that way. Alex is not gonna thank you when she's lost her partner."

Bobby nodded.

"But, we've got bigger fish to fry right now. Whoppers, in fact."

They looked up at him in interest.

"Wouldn't be surprised if it just makes this shit slide right off your teflon shield again, Bobby. More's the pity."

"I'll bite," said Alex curiously, "What's going on?"

"I've got FBI in the office with Carver now. Top level. They've got a serious interest in this Arano guy, or whatever his name is, and they want him."

Bobby stood up, "He's ours."

"You got any proof he did the Larkins murder, Mr. Genius?" asked the Captain, "Or were you planning on slamming a confession out of him?"

Bobby and Alex looked at one another.

Deakins shook his head.

"That's what I thought. Carver's tap dancing to get us more time, but it's not looking good. Now, what about Drew?"

"He's still a real possibility," Bobby told him.

"What have they got on Arano that they need him now?" asked Alex.

"Oh, my lowly security clearance doesn't allow a mere flatfoot such as myself to know something like that. I'm just supposed to turn him over and kiss their assess for the trouble," bit Deakins.

"Look, we need to have a real go at Drew," said Bobby turning to Deakins then. "Arano worked hard to get himself close to Larkins, and he tried to run Eames and I off the case, literally. But Drew's still got a little unexplained trip on his side of the tally sheet."

"What's your plan then, Bobby?" Deakins.asked.

"Well, he loved her, but feared the real possibility of losing her..." mused Goren.

"You think he'd kill her rather than lose her? I don't see it," countered Deakins.

"It's possible."

"Don't buy it. Doesn't seem the type," Deakins shook his head.

Alex watched this tug of war, her irritation growing.

"Gentlemen!" she barked.

They looked over at her in surprise.

"You boys need a couple of beers or something while you're chatting?" she smiled sweetly.

Bobby shifted uncomfortably.

Alex narrowed her eyes. "I'm going in to talk to Drew," she announced.

Deakins and Goren looked at one another.

"Am I or am I not, technically, the lead Detective?" she asked them mildly.

Bobby blinked, she'd never pulled her slightly higher rank on him before.

"Of course," he acquiesced.

"So, I've made a decision. Drew likes me. He thinks I'm kind," she looked pointedly at Bobby then, "And you do not need any more trouble today, Big Guy. So I'm going in."

Deakins looked at Bobby, "As usual, she's right."

Bobby nodded and walked over to her, leaning in with his arms crossed.

"So... What are you thinking?" he asked her.

She looked up at him, "As I see it, we need to give this guy what he needs..." she began.

Seeing that they were on track, Deakins slipped out of the room and back to his office.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She hadn't been there when Andy had been shot.

Though they were on the same squad, the 'no fraternization' policy kept them from being partners. Truth was, professional partnership wouldn't have worked for them anyway, and they both knew it.

Which was why she found herself trolling a corner in fishnets and fake leather when the call had come through.

Tim Gorsky, her then partner, buzzed her earpiece, "Um, Al... they're calling us back to the station."

She lifted her wrist and spoke into the polyester fur cuff, "What? Why? This guy is close."

"They want us back now, Al," he repeated.

And that's when her spine iced over.

She began striding to the undercover van up the block. She lifted her wrist again, "What aren't you telling me, Gorsky?"

He had to tell her.

Then and there. Officially, he wasn't supposed to. He was supposed to take her back to the station and let the Captain do it. But Andy was a friend of his too, and he didn't know how much time he had left.

He also had no desire to be spiked by the red Frederick's of Hollywood heels Alex was sporting.

They popped the cherry onto the lid of the van and peeled out for Belleview.

But she never saw her husband conscious again.

She sat by his bed, in the fake leather and red heels, for three days and silently watched as he slipped away...

She reached into her purse for a brush to smooth her hair then, tweaking here and there for that 'natural' look. Compact next. A little finely pressed powder to reduce the shine. A mere breath of Citrus at her wrists. And lipstick. She dug through her bag, seeking the darker red. Then gloss on top.

Finally, a little cream to smooth on her hands.

She took a rueful look in the mirror.

Not much she could do about the circles under her eyes, but she'd pass.

She sailed back out into the bullpen, dropped her bag at her desk, grabbed a file, and headed to interrogation one...

She and Andy had met at The Academy. He'd been such a boy. Loud, popular, quick. Wickedly sexy. When they finally found their way to one another, it had been hormonal and consuming. After graduation, her mother planned an awful church wedding with a veil and a mass. Not what she wanted, but what everyone else wanted. So she let it happen. Didn't matter as long as she and Andy could be together.

They talked and planned late at night as all such couples must do, she imagined. The house, the children, the future.

Her books remained boxed up in her parent's basement. But she was happy.

It wasn't until much later that she realized how unknown she had been to herself during this time. How it took grief, deep and abiding, for her to really learn what she gave a true shit about. It had come far too late, this realization, she knew. And she must live with the pain, the waste, of life and time, forever.

But she'd be eternally grateful to Andy for helping her find her true way.

One week after his death, and then after the funeral---as public and Irish as her wedding, and just as unwanted, and despite all protest, she went back to work.

Six months later she put in for a transfer to Homicide, found a new apartment, and called up Gareth to haul her books over and build her some shelves.

It was then she started reading again...

"Hello, Mr. Drew," she smiled as she stepped into the room. "I hope you remember me?"

He stood up and waited for her to sit.

"Of course," he smiled. She'd forgotten how blue his eyes were. "Detective Eames."

She smiled at him again, "That's right. But, call me Alex, please."

"If you'll call me David."

Bobby rolled his eyes where he stood with Deakins, Carver, and the FBI agents on the other side of the mirror watching intently.

She had changed out of the long sleeved blue and into the sleeveless brown, he noted. Her pale, lithe, bare arms draped on the table made an especially appealing picture. He hoped it hadn't hurt her too much to make the change.

She looked up at Drew then, wide-eyed and unblinking, "I am so sorry we kept you waiting, David. We've had a bit of drama in here today."

He looked concerned, "I did hear a lot of noise before."

She nodded.

"We found Arano, the missing doorman. He got a little over excited."

Drew's eyes widened at that.

"What did he say?"

Alex glanced at the door and leaned in to him confidentially, "I'm really not supposed to discuss evidence with you, David. But, between you and I, he does remain a person of interest."

"I see."

She opened the file before her then and looked him in the eye.

"Unfortunately, so do you."

"Me?" Drew looked sincerely floored. "I... I loved Christine. I could never harm her."

Alex nodded and sighed.

"David, I want to believe you, I really do," she looked at him and bit her lip slightly. "I just... feel that you couldn't have done it. Miss Larkins was lucky to have you care about her so much. That's just," she blushed and looked down, "my, uh, personal opinion, mind you."

Drew leaned forward to her, "Thank you, Alex. That... that means a lot to me."

She looked up again.

"It's just that we have recently discovered that on your trip to Boston the night of the murder, you rented a car, David."

Drew swallowed, "That's not an unusual thing to do on a business trip."

"No, it isn't. You're right. But you covered an awful lot of miles for one night away. What did you do, David, drive laps around the city?"

Goren chuckled softly as Deakins grinned by his side.

Drew looked away.

"I have the information from the Car Rental Agency right here, David."

She lifted a sheet from the open file before her and laid it down so that he might read it.

"You could have made the trip back to New York to do it, David. To kill Christine. It's right there in black and white."

"But, I didn't," he protested. "I never could."

"Then explain this to me, David, please. I need to understand. Did you come back to see her on a whim?"

"No." His eyes were downcast now, his hands clasped tightly before him.

"Did she break up with you before you left?"

He looked up at her, his pain open, "No!"

"Then what, David?" she asked gently. "Clearly you were afraid you were going to lose her. Did you come back to have it out with her and get carried away? Lose your temper? The gun go off before you realized?"

"No! My God, no!" he got to his feet and walked to the mirror, his head lowered, and began to sob softly.

Alex stepped up behind him. Had there been no glass between them, Goren, standing opposite, could have reached past Drew and touched her.

"David, listen to me," she instructed quietly, "Please."

He turned and faced her.

Goren watched as she sighed and leaned slightly on the table behind her. He knew her ribs were hurting her right now.

"I'm going to tell you a little story, David. Just some notions I have of things. And I want you to listen and then we can talk some more afterwards, okay?"

He nodded, and swiped at his eyes.

Alex took a deep breath and studied the man before her.

And suddenly Goren knew that this was not going to play out in the way they'd discussed. Something else was going to happen here. He felt it. His stomach knotted as he leaned closer, his forehead nearly contacting the glass, as he waited for Alex to cast her spell.

"I understand you, David, more than you might think," she began.

Goren heard no judgment in her voice, but a sort of weariness.

"I know what it is to be the one... Well, the one in the shadow for lack of a better phrase. That's what you were, right? In Christine's shadow?"

Drew could only stare at her, completely caught in her words.

"Christine was very beautiful and brilliant. So incredibly talented. It must have just been a joy to be behind her on that stage every night."

Drew nodded, "It was," he whispered.

"I know how that feels, David. I do."

Bobby brought his clenched fist to his mouth.

"And you were happy there behind her. You are a very good musician in your own right but playing for her, accompanying her, made you even better."

Eames swiped her hair from her eyes and looked away a moment.

Bobby held his breath.

She looked back then.

"Together you were extraordinary. So, of course, you must love her too."

The sound of her voice, bitter and tender at once, resonated in Goren's chest.

Deakins became still by his side.

He felt Carver steal a look at him.

"I did. I do love her," responded Drew.

Alex nodded.

"But being a great artist, she took advantage of you in her way, of your love and music. Not in a selfish way perhaps, but simply by nature of who she was. She'd been born and bred to be a musician—a great star. Her life from birth prepared her for that."

"She was on her way to being the finest."

Alex nodded again, "All you wanted was her partnership, really. In every sense. It fulfilled you, creating music together, being with her. Am I right, David?"

He nodded mutely.

"And sometimes, I'm sure, she even realized her success was, in part, due to you. Because of the support you quietly gave her. She may even have thanked you. After all, you understood her as no one else did. You fine-tuned your music to showcase her. You empowered her. So, she loved you back. For awhile, anyway. But you've never really known if it was love, or just the gratitude of good-hearted young woman, have you, David?"

Drew sobbed audibly.

Alex moved forward to him and put her hands on his shoulders.

Bobby stepped back slightly from the window, as she moved in to Drew, the power of her story too much, too close.

"David, look at me," commanded Alex gently. "You will always be the better for the gift you gave her, for that love. And though it will never be publicly lauded, or acknowledged even, I am standing here today to tell you, to tell whomever you would like me to say it to; Christine Larkins was a Great Artist because David Drew had the strength and talent, and most importantly, love, to hold her up to be so."

Drew collapsed his head onto her shoulder then and cried out his pain.

And Bobby Goren, on the other side of the mirror, let his breath go.

"There, there," she murmured, stroking his hair. "There, there. David, you know you have to tell me now. You have to tell me what happened that night. When you came back to New York."

He nodded into her shoulder, sobbing even harder.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She'd been a better shot than Andy. Her test scores higher. Her mind quicker. She couldn't match him push-up for push-up, but she was more than fairly rated for her sex and weight class.

But he had been promoted first.

Their friends and family had thrown a helluva a party on the beach out on Long Island. Beer in kegs, fresh clams, music and dancing. The works. And she'd been happy for him. For them. He drunkenly promised to buy her all sorts of extravagances with his raise, and she'd just rolled her eyes at him and laughed. He, in his happiness and youth, bronzed and muscled, with the world ahead of him, was beautiful to her. Glorious even. And that filled her up in such a way as to make everything else seem distant and fuzzy.

That's what love's about, right?...

David Drew had gone through his handkerchief, and was well into the box of tissues she'd slid over, and the glass of water she'd poured.

"I thought she was cheating. With that doorman," he began. "It took me forever to see what was going on, but when he started working at her building and I saw her smile at him one day, I just knew."

"What did you do?" she asked.

"I finally asked her about it," he admitted. "At first she didn't say anything. And then she said it wasn't what I thought it was."

"You wanted to believe her?"

"I sure as hell did," he laughed ruefully. "She'd been so different since her trip."

Alex nodded.

"So you drove back from Boston to check on her."

He nodded, "I just had this feeling, you know. She wasn't at all sorry to see me leave. Just sort of distracted. So, as soon as I landed and checked in, I got in the car and drove down."

Drew paused here, the memories clearly washing over him.

"Did you catch them together, David?" she asked gently.

He looked at her, "I swear to God, Alex, I didn't even go into the building."

She blinked at this.

"I know you don't believe me. But I didn't. I parked across the street in front of the ATM there and just watched the building for awhile. I felt so stupid. Like when I followed her to the library. And then that Arano guy walks up. The other doorman wasn't there. I don't know where he went, but Arano sailed right in."

"What time was this?"

"I don't know. Maybe three or four in the morning."

"What happened next?"

"I looked up at Christine's apartment and I saw her let him in through the front door. There's a window in the hall there."

"And then?"

"And then twenty minutes later he comes back down with some mailing tube or something, it was red, and then leaves. I felt so stupid. I didn't know what to think. Was he just running an errand for her? But what sort of errand would it be at that hour? Were they having an affair, or weren't they? I didn't know. I felt like I was going crazy."

But Alex was sitting up straight, trying to add it all up. And it wasn't coming out the way it should. The way they'd expected. She flicked her eyes to the mirror, wishing she could see Bobby.

"What did you do then, David?"

He laughed hollowly, "I drove back to Boston, checked out the piano like I was supposed to, and then caught the plane home. That's it. I swear. I was at home when the police called to tell me that they'd... found her body."

"Okay, David. I'm going to step out for a minute. But I need you to stay around awhile longer."

He nodded morosely.

She gathered up her file and walked to the door, then stopped and turned to him.

"Why didn't you tell us any of this before?"

He shrugged, "I didn't feel I had anything to tell. I didn't want the world to think Christine had been sleeping with her doorman."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She stepped into observation.

"I've got Lampley on the way to the bank to check out any video. If Drew was parked in front of that ATM, there might be tape of him," said Deakins.

Alex nodded thoughtfully, "Or even of Arano leaving the building. If we're lucky."

"If this story checks out, we've got Arano there at the time of the murder, and I can charge him," said Carver happily.

One of the FBI agents turned to Carver then, "As I explained before, Mr. Carver. We need to take Arano into custody for our own investigation."

"Which you have told me nothing about, Agent Blakeley. Why should I let the murderer of a well-known and beloved young opera singer go with you? I've had the Mayor on my ass for days over this."

The agents eyed one another.

"We could perhaps give you some information that might speed things along for you, Mr. Carver. But we would expect consideration from you in return."

"I'm making no promises, but we're listening."

The taller of the two agents opened his briefcase and handed over a stack of photographs for them to thumb through.

"Christine Larkins was targeted by the man you know as Kol Arano when she was in Belgium. We still don't know why. But because of certain other information we have, this caused us great concern."

They all looked over the photos of Arano and Christine Larkins together in a public park, at a café, walking by a waterway. They were laughing and looked like a happy young couple.

Goren took a couple of the photos and perused them, "They began an affair?"

"Yes," confirmed the taller agent. "He seems to have followed her here. We've been tracking him and two of his accomplices in another matter. We're not sure yet what he wanted Christine for."

"I see," said Carver, returning the photos to the agents. "But this only makes my case stronger. If she had a prior connection to the suspect..."

"Look, Carver, this goes up to the highest levels. We need this guy."

"Well, then, it looks like the highest levels are going to have to fight this one out, because I'm not releasing Mr. Arano based on what you've told me."

"Okay, Carver, if that's how you want to play it," the agent snapped his briefcase shut.

"I'm not letting a murderer go," said Carver simply.

They all watched then as the agents left.

"We still don't have a motive for Arano," said Bobby softly then.

Alex looked over at him.

"You don't think he did it?" she asked.

"I'm just saying we don't have a motive."

"We have enough to hold him," snapped Carver as he left the room, with Deakins trailing behind.

Bobby looked over at Alex then.

She had turned to the mirror and was watching David Drew sitting in his misery on the other side.

"He really loved her," she said softly.

Bobby moved to her side and looked down at her.

"Eames..."

Something in the sound of his voice made her look up at him.

The exhaustion in her face hurt him.

"What you said in there, Alex..."

She waited, her eyes fixed on him.

"I..." he tried. He couldn't form words that meant anything.

"I'm going to go get that poor man some coffee, Bobby," she told him, and turned to go.

He sank into a chair after she left, his mind turning it all over.