Safest Place to Hide
Chapter 6
Connect
Monday arrived much to quickly for Alex, especially since she and Bobby had had the most relaxing weekend she'd ever lived in her life. She'd gotten a good couple of quality nights that was nightmare-free and they'd only run errands throughout the weekend. Work took a backseat and Alex was never more thankful for it in her life.
It gave her a new calm about the Mitchell case such that she didn't want to scream when a forensic file appeared on Bobby's desk.
"Remember the second set of prints on the gun?" Alex asked as she looked over the results. Bobby nodded, not looking up from his current report.
"The database kicked out a match." He looked as surprised as she sounded.
"It did?"
"Patrick Sparks. Threats against judges, officers… nothing in the big times."
"He would have had access to the gun. Maybe he found it?" Alex could see new theories swimming through her partner's head.
"And what? Moss was a scapegoat?"
"He would have been the perfect one. A father, upset over the fact that his precious daughter was turned down three times by the same judge…"
"What's Sparks; motive though?" Bobby shrugged turning back to his report.
"Well when you think of something let me know," Alex said, a teasing note in her voice. His smile was just as mocking.
"Don't worry, you'll know."
The drive to his apartment that night was made in a comfortable silence, as most of their car rides were these days with their ability to just know what the other was thinking. They fully enjoyed the comfort level they'd maintained in their personal lives, even as they maintained a professional relationship that was not directly affected by their current living conditions. In fact, both were pretty sure no one in the precinct was even aware they were living together.
It was a testament to how much Bobby cared for his partner than he didn't mind her sharing his space for longer than necessary. He didn't want to push her into anything she wasn't completely secure in. She thanked him in different little ways throughout their days.
They reached his apartment in good time considering New York's uncanny ability to pile up cars. Both were still wrapped up in their own thoughts from the case, so much so that everything else was done out of habit rather than concentration and awareness.
Bobby unlocked his door and allowed Alex in first. As usual, Alex dropped her laptop on his desk in the corner, case and all, before wandering into the kitchen. Bobby rolled his eyes and moved the case down beside the chair, like he always did. She smiled at him over her shoulder, the first bout of awareness they'd had since they got the print report.
"Dinner?" Bobby just shrugged leaving her to choose what to cook. Alex not only liked to cook but felt it was the least she could do for letting her stay. It was a domestic side of her she couldn't suppress and he appreciated everything she did. He took up his spot on the couch, turning on the television and flipping to the news. However, he had to turn it off soon after.
"Too depressing?" Alex called from the kitchen having heard the TV being turned off.
"If it bleeds it leads," he answered, taking up a spot at the table instead. He liked to watch her flit around the kitchen now that she was sure of where everything was. It filled an empty spot in his heart that he'd never realized existed until he sat with her the first time. Alex's smile was impish as she turned away from the oven.
"So, honey, how was your day?" It was their game beginning again. He'd been surprised the first time she asked especially since they worked together. However, after the first few times they'd done this ritual he found himself opening up and telling her his little observations about people and things throughout the day. He found the decompression supremely relaxing because it wasn't something burning at the back of his mind any more. Instead, Alex took those little things he wanted to tell someone so bad and filed them away in her own mind. They'd become touchstones and grounding rods for each other without consciously realizing it.
"We had an interesting twist in the case I'm working on, but other than that it was boring." Alex laughed at the annoyance in his tone. She loved him like this, not so guarded, no walls between them. These were the times he let his frustrations out whether he could control them or not. Alex found it rather amusing, actually.
"Poor Bobby. You had to do paperwork then?" She knew very well he'd spent most of his day tapping his pen on his desk on top of the papers. His mind was far too busy on something to concentrate on the monotony of paperwork. Alex, on the other hand, efficient as always, had systematically worked through three quarters of her pile. She couldn't wait to tease him about it. Bobby looked up at her sheepishly, knowing he'd been caught slacking off again.
"Tried." He'd learned there was no such thing as a secret in times like these. She'd learned how to work him to tell her the truth, a new skill he admired greatly in her. They'd started off slow – well Alex had started, actually – telling little bits and pieces of their lives that the other didn't get to see on a regular basis.
Suddenly, Alex tensed and darted out of the kitchen. Bobby was close on her heels as she made a beeline for his desk and her computer, letting out a sigh of affectionate annoyance when she'd noticed he'd moved the case again. She bounced her knee as she waited for the appliance to start up, her impatience showing through. He loved her when she was just as unguarded, when he could see her emotions like they were written out for him in a book. Finally, the computer had booted up and she quickly access her old files. Glancing over it quickly she found the names she'd been look ing for and sat back in triumph.
"What?" Bobby asked not following.
"Horace Mitchell was the key witness in the Mark Sparks Case. That's how I know the name. It was a big sting with Vice and Narco. He was arrested for drugs and prostitution, among other things. Mark Sparks had a son, he'd be 29 or 30 now, Patrick."
"It was your case?" Bobby asked for clarification. Alex nodded as her fingers flew over the keys, accessing her report from the old files. The pieces fell into place and Alex watched them click with supreme satisfaction. Bobby was still slightly confused.
"How does this help our case?" Alex smiled and stood, leaving her computer in favour of the dinner than had just beeped from the oven.
"Patrick Sparks killed Horace Mitchell," she stated, her self-satisfying smile growing with every step she took.
"What?"
"Remember his rap sheet? Threats." Then it started to vaguely make sense.
"He went through with them."