Title: Winter Fun, Chapter Five
Author: Haven't changed identities for a while now, so still Kerry
Disclaimer: ok – I took liberties with many things in this chapter. To keep this short, anything you recognize, I do not own. Willie Dunn's Grill, please don't sue me! I know you're actually at Okemo, but I was running out of names…
A/N: This chapter's kind of different from the previous ones; it's not so much interrogation and scene-switching. Let me know what you think of Decovy and Falver – I'm having some fun with them. Think that's all for today…enjoy!
Chapter Five: Suspects and Familiar Strangers
"Welcome to McDonalds. May I take your order?" The nearly electronic, deadbeat voice slowly woke Bobby in the front passenger seat.
"Yes, thank you. I'd like a 'Garden Salad Shaker' with a diet Coke, please," his partner responded as Bobby blearily opened one eye. Alex glanced over at him as he straightened himself; he must have slept at an odd angle, because his neck was killing him. "Oh, you're up. Want anything?" His mind, still groggy, was having difficulty putting together a sarcastic comment about the quality of fast-food restaurants, so Alex took the liberty of ordering for him.
"We'll also take a Number One with large fries and a second Coke. Thanks."
"Is there anything else you would like to order, ma'am?"
"Um…yeah, I'll actually take a small coffee. Regular."
"Please move forward to the next window to pay for your order." Bobby watched the transaction between the employee and Alex quietly, still adjusting himself to his surroundings. How long had he been asleep…? He glanced out the window; it was positively black outside.
"Here – take these?" Alex asked him, handing over two McDonalds bags. Obliging, he grabbed them, peering at the contents. Alex's salad at least looked edible; he eyed the wrapping of his burger cautiously.
"Your total comes to 6.89." His chivalrous nature kicking in, Bobby promptly offered to cover it. Alex rolled her eyes back at him in response.
"Please, Bobby – it's off of the dollar menu." He grinned, when a shrill ringing from Alex's phone startled him. Still shuffling through her purse, she shot him a look that clearly asked him to answer for her.
"Hello?"
"Goren?"
"Oh, hi Captain." Beside him, Alex groaned. She checked the car clock resignedly: exactly two hours and twenty-four minutes since she had had to think of work. It was probably a record; sighing, she reluctantly listened to Bobby's end of the conversation.
"Yeah, we stopped at Amherst on the way up. Spoke to the roommate – Danny – and the boyfriend, Paul. We also met an interesting character, a Reverend Aglison, who supposedly had a controversial relationship with Mandy…No, no – not that kind of relationship; they just didn't get along…Actually, I don't know." Shifting the receiver slightly, he addressed Alex. "Where are we?"
"We just passed through Ludlow, Vermont. I got a little lost, but we should arrive in Killington in about a half hour."
"You hear that? Okay…Yes, it was helpful; we didn't come up with anything conclusive, but did add some more suspects…Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt, Captain, but we've got another call coming in…Yeah, I'll call you back." He look the phone down from his ear, pressed a button, and raising the phone again, spoke.
"Detective Goren."
"Hi," a timid voice replied, a voice Goren instantly recognized. Glancing over at Alex, he mouthed 'Danny'; a curious expression spread across her face. "I'm sorry to bother you after hours, but you did say to call-"
"Don't worry about it, Danny. Is everything okay?" Beside him, Alex spoke, sounding momentarily panicked.
"Paul didn't do anything, did he?" A quick shake of Bobby's head assured her that he hadn't. Still listening intently, Alex steered the car back onto the highway. Whatever Danny was saying didn't seem immediately threatening, judging by Bobby's countenance and reactions. It did, however, seem intriguing: perhaps Danny had somehow revealed the murderer, his motive, and his method in – she checked her watch – under two minutes. Ha.
When he hung up, Bobby, now fully awake, quickly turned to face his partner. "Danny Marks. She just received a call from Jem Davis."
"The ex."
"None other. It turns out that he never left Killington."
"Really. Does he know about Mandy?"
"Allegedly, that's why he called Danny." Alex glanced at Bobby sideways in the rearview mirror; he was typing into her cell phone.
"Who are you calling now?"
"Deakins." He held the receiver to his ear, drumming his fingers on the dashboard impatiently while it rang. "Maybe there's something we can arrest Davis for."
"Did Danny mention anything about why Mandy broke up with Jem?"
"Not to me." He paused; Deakins had picked up the phone. "Captain?" We've got a lead on the ex, a Jem Davis. Anything we can bring him in for….Yeah, I'll hold." He glanced over at Alex; they made eye contact resignedly. It was going to be a long night.
"Jem Davis."
"What about him?"
"He's the only one from the list that's still reported to be in Vermont." Decovy glanced up from his paperwork at his approaching partner's words.
"Still in Vermont….for how long?" Falver took a seat across from him, lowering his head on his elbows to lean on the desk.
"My guess is not long, as soon as this hits the news tomorrow." Decovy groaned.
"What do we know about this guy?"
"So far, just that he attends Amherst College and came up here on a recent ski trip. We can run a search on him, though…" Flipping open his laptop, he typed in his weapon of choice: "Jem Davis…here – a 2001 news article where he was arrested…for drug possession."
"Damn…that's not enough for us to take him in. There's no violation of parole, or history of abuse?"
"No such luck." Closing the laptop with a final click, Falver rose and crossing the room, grabbed his coat. "But it is enough for us to search him, and hopefully get some questions in. He was last known to be staying at the Mill in town; there's a bar there that's pretty popular among the visiting college students. Shall we go?"
They had just pushed for the elevator when an authoritative voice called them back. "Falver! Decovy! In my office." Their captain, David Thorman, stood in the doorway of his office, holding a stapled packet of papers.
"Just a minute earlier," Falver muttered, casting a sideways look at his partner. "Just sixty seconds…"
"I heard that, Peter," Thorman called; though he attempted seriousness, a grin spread across his face, breaking the pretense. "Get in here, the both of you."
"So what do you want?" Decovy asked once they were seated across from Thorman at his desk.
"Just checking in on the case – and bringing news of the arrival of a certain pair of NYPD officers: Detectives Goren and Eames." Decovy glanced up sharply at the name Eames, though his action went unnoticed by his colleagues. "They've been working on the Turner case for a few days now, ever since Mandy's parents reported her missing."
"You're not taking us off the case, are you?"
"No, no – quite the opposite. Captain Deakins and I have arranged for the four of you to collaborate on this case. Goren and Eames should be arriving in a half hour or so, and will be staying at the Mill."
"We were actually just heading there." Thorman glanced up from his notes in response to Decovy's statement.
"And what is this visit for?" Falver stepped in to answer.
"A Jem Davis turned up on our search for Mandy's peers on the Vermont trip; he's the only one still here. We don't know when he's leaving, so figured sooner is better than later."
"Jem Davis, you said?" At Falver's assent, Thorman thumbed through several pages of notes he had received from Deakins ten minutes earlier. "He's in the other detectives' findings too. Looks like he was an ex-boyfriend of Mandy's."
"An ex-boyfriend…" Decovy mused. "That makes our visit that much the more interesting."
"Well, don't let me hold up any further," the captain remarked, standing to usher them out the door. "Here are Goren and Eames' cell numbers; give them a call at some point? Maybe even wait for them at the hotel – Deakins wanted me to stress that this is the daughter of a senatorial candidate."
"We've got it; in essence: 'chop, chop.'"
"Couldn't have put it better myself. Should you find anything important, give me a call. We're closing down here in a few minutes, but I have my cell."
In the isolation of the elevator several minutes later, Falver turned to the taller, darker Decovy. "So – we're not calling them, are we?" Decovy responded with a derisive look that visibly stated 'of course not'.
"This is our jurisdiction, Falver. Our case." As the elevator doors slid open with a ping, he added, almost to himself: "But we do have to meet them at some point, and if I am right about this Detective Eames…well, let's just say it will be even more interesting."
"Here we are: Killington, Vermont."
"Finally."
"Kind of an ironic name, don't you think? Killington?" Alex gave Bobby a wry grin as she answered.
"It sounds like a place where we should have been stationed years ago." With a left turn, they were suddenly in the center of the traditional Vermont town: old houses, small thrift shops, and charming-looking restaurants lined the street. "Deakins said a hotel called 'The Mill', right? Where exactly should I be heading?"
"Can't be far…right there, on the left. Excellent; this is where Danny said the ski group was staying, so Jem Davis should be around somewhere."
"Should we try the 'Willie Dunn's Grill?' It looks popular." As they spoke, a group of teenagers entered the dark-looking bar. "Who exactly are we looking for?"
"On the phone, Danny said average height, semi-long sandy blonde hair, and brown eyes."
"Sounds like quite the looker." They entered the bar, grabbing a table and surreptitiously looking around the restaurant. It didn't take long for Bobby's well-trained eyes to pick up on the surfer-type young man at the center of the bar. Used to his observations, Alex didn't need Bobby's significant glance to tell her that he had spotted someone.
"Shall I go get us some drinks from the bar, then?" Bobby asked, dragging his hulking form out of the booth and to the bar.
"Sounds good – I'll just have a ginger ale. Today has been long enough already."
At the counter, Bobby sidled up beside the suspect. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that he fit their description: the blonde hair and brown eyes should have combined to form a handsome face, but come out only – for lack of a better word – sketchy. "I'll take a Sam Adams and a ginger ale," he ordered. Tossing an indirect glance at Jem – who sat apparently alone – he grinned. "So how were the slopes today? We just got up here, but we're dying to hit the trails."
"We?" It was an odd question, Bobby mused, for a stranger to ask of someone who had merely queried about the conditionsIt was almost…on-guard, as though he was expecting people he didn't want to see. People like, Bobby concluded, grimacing slightly, detectives.
"Oh, just my wife and I," he answered smoothly, carelessly gesturing over his shoulder to where Alex sat. "It's our first time up to Vermont in about five years now. You know how it is, with kids, work…Nothing's as easy as it used to be."
"Yeah. Well, the conditions were alright today. Nothing much to speak of." Definitely closed, Bobby noted. "Unfortunately, I have to leave tomorrow; today was my last day."
As Bobby spoke with Jem, two men entered the restaurant. Unlike the two detectives from the NYPD, these had made no effort to "go undercover"; with their customized uniforms and bold gun holsters, they stood out poignantly in the crowd of scantily dressed young men and women, most of whom had by now migrated to the dance floor.
"There – at the bar." Decovy pointed with certainty; before leaving the precinct, they had managed to uncover a photograph of the twenty-two year old Jem Davis.
"And the man talking to him?" Falver questioned. Eying Bobby's muscular build and Armani coat that was just so out of place in Vermont country, Decovy spoke nastily.
"I don't think we'll be needing to give those detectives a call after all, Falver." Starting towards the bar, he threw back over his shoulder, "It looks like they prepared a welcoming party for us instead."
Bobby was just about to ask his new bar mate if had heard about the tragedy of Mandy Turner (being sure to add his increased fear of skiing as a result of it), when he was grasped on the shoulder and roughly pulled back. Incredulously, he looked at his 'attacker'. His immediate reaction was that his man was dangerous; his appearance – and here Bobby justified himself by meaning his facial expression and bearing, not his physical looks – fit exactly the profile of a criminal.
"Excuse me," Bobby began, trying to be polite, "but I don't believe I know you?"
"Robert Goren?" Falver stated more than asked, joining his partner in front of Bobby and Jem, who watched on silently, brown eyes nervously darting back and forth.
"Yes – that's me." Bobby straightened himself; he now stood a good half a foot over Falver's head, and several inches above Decovy's. "And who are you?"
"Peter Falver," he replied, holding up his badge.
"And Travis Decovy. We're of the Killington Police Department, and while we apologize for our rudeness, this man is our suspect and we'll be needing to speak to him. Alone, preferably." Before Bobby could respond, Jem cried out, rising from his stool.
"I'm your suspect? For what?"
"Jem Davis?"
"Maybe."
"We're going to have to ask you to empty your pockets, Mr. Davis," Falver ordered, holding out his hands to accept Jem's belongings. However, Jem ignored him, instead forcefully placing the contents of his jacket on the bar counter. Decovy picked up a packet enclosed in a Ziploc bag with a look of disgust.
"Well, what do you know, Falver? Possession of marijuana. Times haven't changed much." Falver's reply was well-rehearsed.
"Jem Davis, you are under arrest for the possession of illegal drugs." Decovy forcefully dragged the man away from the bar, ignoring his protests and slapping handcuffs on him roughly. Seeing the commotion, Alex hurried over to the bar, in time to catch Bobby's objection.
"You can't arrest this man – I was in the middle of questioning him."
"Questioning me! What-"
"I'm sorry, Detective Goren," Decovy spoke over Jem's ramblings, "but this is our jurisdiction – not yours. I'm afraid we can, and we will arrest this man regardless of your malcontent." He turned away from the bar and from Bobby, and came face to face with Alex. An odd expression slowly lined his face, as a shocked one came over Alex's countenance.
"Ah, yes…Alexandra Eames. No longer going by Mrs. Hewson, I see." He dragged out each word, a sly grin forming as he glanced at her empty ring finger.
"Decovy," she nearly growled in return; Bobby, alarmed, looked over at his usually cool-tempered partner. Decovy only laughed, coldly.
"No need for the hostility, dear. It is nice to see you again, and, as I'm sure you've gathered, the four of us will be working together to bring Turner's killer to justice." The way he pronounced 'justice' made it sound like something you would want to lock your windows and doors against, not something they willingly put their lives at risk for each day. "In any case, Jem here must be getting impatient. We'll be taking him to our local station; you and your partner" – he cast a disdainful look at Bobby – "are welcome to follow."
Several minutes after the trio's departure, Bobby broke the silence that had befallen them, concerned about his partner. Alex truly looked as though she had seen a ghost, and her lack of a sarcastic comment was something not something to which he was accustomed. "Eames," he began, not quite sure how to continue. "What – what the hell was that?"
"That," she answered frigidly, still staring at the door through which Decovy had exited and looking almost eerily calm, "That was the man who killed my husband."
Comments? Constructive criticism? Suggestions? All welcome:)Have a nice day, people.
