I should kill myself for writing this instead of frantically filling out a college application due on Dec 15th… And I apologize if I get the time zones screwed up; I'm assuming there is a 7-hour difference since London is a 6-hour difference. I could check, but I'm just too lazy, so we'll say it's 7…

Chapter 9

Bobby walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He crossed the room to the desk containing the laptop. He had set it up with a wireless Internet connection and had sent Alex the short story he had written only about half an hour ago.

He saw that he had a new e-mail.

"Bobby, Wish I could have been there to see Barek give that security guard the what-for. Sounds like a hoot. I bet you freaked him out real good- only next time you don't have to go into suspect analysis mode."

He smiled slightly.

"Or maybe you were just practicing… get me the guy's name if you can and I'll do a little digging. Five bucks says you're right."

"Practice?" he whispered.

"I haven't typed up the familial interviews yet, but I'll listen through them again and highlight the good parts. I like the idea of looking into the victims' and the violins' history. I'm looking into Carey Lawrence. He's 45 years old. Married, 2 teenage kids, no immediate connection to any of the victims that I can find (I called the families of the vics and asked if they knew him, they'd never heard of him, and he said he didn't know them either), but I'll do that digging that you asked for and see if there is any history they might conveniently be unaware of. He doesn't have any history with the auction house- he said it was an investment. Hard to see how a 45-year old man with teenagers can have a $50,000 investment, in a violin no less, but whatever."

"A $50,000 investment?"

"I have a follow-up interview with him set up for tomorrow morning."

"Excellent."

"I'm not sending you the orchestra interview tapes- you've got jetlag and a lot to do."

At this he was slightly annoyed.

"I'll listen to them for you tonight (don't worry, I've got plenty of coffee and a little more experience with musicians under my belt) and see what I can find."

"But what if you miss something? Just send me the tapes."

"Trust me."

Surprise crossed his face.

"Sharp as always on figuring out that I'm flying solo- Logan's got a nice skittle-sized mark on his forehead."

At this he laughed openly. "I've got to show this to Barek."

"Honestly I'd rather work alone and send you e-mails than have him tagging along. He's a sharp guy, but his sense of humor is too dry and he's too much of a smart ass."

"He Sounds just like you."

He needs a sign that says, 'Doesn't work well with others.' But then again, I think we all do, otherwise we wouldn't be partnered with each other (Mike and Carolyn included)."

"You're telling me…"

"Damn shame about the cheese, and I know all about First Class- do I smell free booze? What's the brass playing at? ;-)"

His smile broadened.

"Oh, and I had to break into your apartment to grab the file on Nicola Dominguez that you left in there. Don't worry; I didn't go digging around or nesting; and I replaced the lock."

"Damnit, Eames…"

"Also, attached are a few photos of the violin so you can have the luthier in Paris ID it- the label on the inside of the back is a perfect match to what Dominguez's insurance company had in their records, but the Captain would like to be double sure. I think that's it for now. Call me when you can. Alex."

Bobby immediately began fumbling through his pile of things on the desk, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed her number. Then he realized he was cold for lack of clothing and his curly hair dripping onto his back. He crossed the room towards his suitcase. Crap! Too late- "Eames," she answered groggily.

"Hey, it's Goren."

"Oh, hey Bobby. Did you get my e-mail?"

"Yah, sounds good. Wish I could do more to help." He held the phone to his shoulders as he dug out his nightshirt. It was about 4am and he only had a little time to get some sleep before he and Barek were off to interview the luthier and search through tons of customs records tracing instruments that had come in and out of the country.

"It's no problem," she said over a yawn.

"Did I waked you?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm just listening to those interview tapes again. It's only 8ish or so here."

"Oh, ok."

Alex heard a loud THUMP! followed by "Shit!"

"Bobby? Are you alright?"

Bobby scrambled to his feet, desperately trying to untangle the pants from his ankles that had cause his quite literal downfall. "Yah, I'm fine. Could I call you back in 2 seconds?"

"Yah, sure."

"Thanks, I'll call you right back."

"Sure." She hung up very confused and looked down at the mess on the floor. Tons of transcripts, files, and who knows what else lay scattered at her feet at the base of the couch. She looked around, really wishing Bobby were there to help her sort through this mess. However, if she had been in Europe with him, God only knows what kind of mess would be waiting for them when they got back. But that didn't stop her from wishing he were there. She didn't really miss him as a companion at the moment, just as her partner, which was bad enough.

Her phone rang again. "Hey."

"Sorry about that, I tripped over my pants."

"I don't even wanna know."

"Probably not. It's rather embarrassing. So, you're going through those interviews again? What have you found?"

"Nothing," she sighed. "Really. It's everything that we remember. There is nothing suspicious mentioned, not even an unnatural inflection in the voice. I had ran all of their names through the system, nothing but standard traffic violations. I really don't think any of the orchestra was involved." She heard him breathe in, getting ready to speak. "There's nothing, Bobby. Trust me."

"Damn it, so we're back to square one?"

"Looks that way. Boy was Deakins pissed when he found out."

Bobby leaned back on his bed and sighed. "Alright. Uh," he rubbed his forehead, "What about Laurence?"

"Interview's tomorrow, but he looks clean too. We're getting nowhere, Bobby."

He didn't want to give up that easily. "Shit… Ok," he said getting up, his mind racing. "Find everything you can about the Dominguez violin, her, her family, and Laurence. If there's anything you haven't done, do it. I want to be absolutely sure that there's nothing connecting any of them to her or that violin before it came into her possession. Because, if there isn't, this may very well have been a decoy to throw us off of the original crime, and until we find the others, we won't know which was the original target, or if it's still out there… This has to go back to someone connected with the victims or the violins… And if there's no connection with this one, then there definitely is with one of the others, if not both."

Alex mulled it over. "You're probably right. And knowing our luck-"

"-It'll be the next one, Eames. You know, for all the cases that get kicked to Major Case, the criminals really aren't any smarter than usual… their crimes are just more grandiose in scale…"

"I hope you're right," she said, picking up her tea mug and taking it to the kitchen for a refill.

"And Eames?"

"Yah?"

"What the hell is 'nesting'?"

"Oh." She laughed. "It's nothing, it's what females do to houses… blessing and a curse, really… You're not mad I had to go into your apartment, are you?"

"Nah, I trust you, and there's really nothing in there I wouldn't want you to see anyway. I've got secrets, but not from you."

"That's very sweet, Bobby," she said smiling.

For some reason, it's always easier for people to show emotion on their faces when they're talking on the phone. I guess it's because the other person can't see Alex Eames blushing right now that makes it ok for her to do so.

"Well, thanks for keeping me posted. I need to get what little sleep I can before Barek and I are off tomorrow. Thanks for everything."

"No problem, take care, Bobby."

"Bye, Alex." And with that, Bobby climbed under the covers and fell asleep almost instantly.