6:00pm: The Only Bar in NYC that doesn't have a smoking ban.

"I wanna know where she's been staying for three months. I wanna know who she was with.. I want to talk to her pimp. If Hunt knows something, he's in no hurry to give it up." Eames bit into a cheese fry, and sipped her pint.

Goren had a cigarette burning in the glass ashtray on the table. He had a plate smeared with ketchup in front of him, and had already finished half of his pint. A pitcher sat near the edge of the table.

"Give me one of those," Eames reached for the worn pack of cigarettes Goren had left on the table.

"Since when do you smoke?" He looked over at her.

"Since this case and the weather are giving me a headache." She shrugged, and let him light it for her. He slid the ashtray so that it sat between them.

"You think it's Hunt, and you feel guilty for thinking that."

"I can't come up with a single good reason for that hunch."

"Doesn't mean it's wrong. Come on, Alex, you've been my partner for... how long?"

"Five years?"

"Forever. And you think I'm gonna judge you for having a gut feeling?" He laughed, and dipped another fry in the ketchup. "Look, it's the first day of the case. Everyone's leaning on us to wrap this up.. until we talk to Sparks, there's not a whole lot else we can do. A few rookies went out and asked around today."

"I know, Bobby.. but I feel oddly out of my depth, and so do you."

"So let's work on our theory. You think it's Hunt. Why?" He took a long drag on his cigarette.

"He's this great kid from the wrong side of the tracks. His parents worked their butts off to pay for the house they moved into. I'll bet you no one else's parents worked that hard. Dads, maybe, but moms?" She shrugged. "He's cocky. And charming. He goes out of his way to create a good impression. .. His still a kid from the wrong side with something to prove. When we talked to him, though, he ignored you, and then.. the etch-a-sketch thing. I can't get a grip on this guy."

"If it makes you feel any better, neither can I." Goren sat back. "I'll say this, though. Whoever killed Danielle wanted to teach her a lesson."

"That's an appropriate choice of words."

"He was angry at her. He wanted to hurt her... but she was unconscious when he raped her. Huh." Goren rolled the cigarette between his fingers, finishing the last sip of his beer.

"He was angry when he raped her. The bite mark.. he felt she owed it to him. Do you think he intended her to be unconscious?" Eames scowled.

"...I don't know."

"This isn't helping my headache." She refilled their glasses. "She had restraint marks... faint ones, like someone had looped rope around her .. tied to a chair, probably. That's when he did a number on her hand."

10 pm (four hours later) The detectives have moved on to shots, though the conversation hasn't deviated much, (except for a brief digression into Eame's familiarity with tiny, black PVC shorts that zip entirely in half -- no insights gained, just allusions).

"It's only the first day, but I can't wait for this case to be over."

"I'll drink to that." Goren slid her a shot.

"Thanks. It's a wonder there's anything nice left in this world. It's weird to go home on holidays, where everything is so nice and normal. People don't kill each other for fucked up reasons. People aren't brutal and horrible." She downed her shot.

"Alex."

"What? God, that one burned." She winced.

"People aren't deviants. Most of the time, they're in horrible situations that turn them into people they don't want to be." He slid his hand towards hers, and held it. "The rest are sociopaths. Antisocial people who don't comprehend anyone else's needs but their own. Or.. or driven to it by some quirk that is cruelly manipulated by fate, or someone who is supposed to care about them. But overall? The world is not cruel and cold and horrible."

Eames pulled her hand back to rub her arms. Goren leaned back and flicked the ash of his cigarette. The ashtray was brimming with butts, now.

"Today? I wonder."

"This case has you really spooked." Goren scowled at her.

"Nah. Just too many cases. Maybe I need a vacation."

"You don't take vacations, you get bored. It's not work, it's this case, this killer. You're not supposed to bias yourself by using past cases... or experiences to judge new ones. But I break that rule all the time,"

"Hunt killed her. Sparks ... maybe he put him up to it, or maybe he just found out where she was and sent Hunt to find her. Something went wrong."

"Go on."

"Danielle wanted so badly to do what she wanted to do, instead of what she had to do to maintain a good public image. She was so lonely, and so miserable there, walking around in her dad's shadow all the time. She couldn't be a normal kid. He's running in the next election. The media is ruthless. It's not just what he does and has done, but it's about her, too. So she ran away." Eames rubbed her forehead.

"All Hunt ever wanted was what Danielle threw away."

"He hated her for it. He found her, thought she was misguided, somehow, got lured away from home by some bad guy. But she wanted to go. It was her idea. And that set him off." She drew another cigarette from his near empty pack.

"What about the rape?"

"She was never intimate with him. But she was a prostitute. She refused to have sex with him, but any guy could have her for a few bucks. That must have really pissed him off. Everything this guy wanted, she threw away."