---- thanks for the "jetway" help... i'm sorry this chapter is sucky, but it moves the plot along, which I needed to do... i'll have a good fluffy one up soon- i swear!
Chapter 13
Alex's digital clock told the dark room that it was now 4:30 in the morning, but she didn't know that, and neither did Bobby. They were lying, both still fully clothed, together on her bed sleeping more soundly than they had in weeks. Alex was curled up in a ball and Bobby was sort of a barrier between her and the sides of the bed.
Six a.m. rolled around and the alarm clock decided it was time to make the hour known to the rest of the free world. Alex shifted and groggily climbed over Goren to shut the alarm off.
As she was stretched across him she felt a hand trace the curve of her torso from under her arm to the top of her hip. She immediately slammed the snooze button on the alarm and threw herself into Bobby.
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"Goren, Barek, good to have you back," said Deakins as he crossed the room towards his office.
"Good to be back, sir," was Bobby's response.
"I'm tired- I want vacation," was Barek's.
"You just got a trip to Paris," Deakins said over his shoulder as he entered his office and closed the door.
"Not the same."
"I wouldn't have thought so," said Alex with a grin. Barek sent a tired smile back.
"Yah, well, you're motive was a little different now, wasn't it?" said Logan with a smirk.
Alex stuck her tongue out at him.
"Come on, Mike, ease up," said Barek.
Just then, Deakins stuck his head out of the door. "Logan, Barek, in here." he said.
"Yay! Work!" said Mike a little too enthusiastically (and a little too sarcastically).
Alex shook her head. "That boy ain't right. I'm gonna go get the mail and faxes," she said, rolling her chair back.
"I'll come with you," said Bobby, getting up as well.
They walked over to the row of mail slots and Alex peered inside the one that read "Eames/Goren." She reached inside and pulled out a bunch of papers.
They had asked al of the local luthiers and auction houses to send over copies of the paper work on all of the violins they had sold since the date of the first murder. Alex didn't feel like dealing with incompetent people. Save them from themselves before we have to save them from me was her motto.
"Nothing here," she said. "One of the luthiers sent over all of the paper work on a violin he just sold- it doesn't even look like any of the missing ones," she said.
"But it's got the dots on the scroll and the tailpiece is identical."
"Look- the flame is too wide, you can see it right there," she said, pointing to the photo of the back of the violin.
"But the varnish is-"
"The varnish isn't anywhere near right. And look, Bobby, it's got the luthier's label on the inside. He just made this one last year."
"Ok, you win. Anything else?"
"The CSU report from the last crime scene- certainly took 'em long enough. No DNA found at the scene except the victims… and, yours, but you probably forgot your gloves, didn't you? Uhm… nothing special-"
"Hey- there's a page missing."
"What?"
"It jumps from page 6 to page 8."
Alex looked at the pages more closely. "What the hell?" she asked, flipping it from page 6 to page 8, then back to page 6 again looking at it expectantly- like page 7 was supposed to appear now. She sighed. "I'll have them send a new one."
"And I'll have this dusted for prints."
But Alex wasn't listening. "What kind of dumb-ass would steal pages from a confidential police report and not notice that they were numbered? Wouldn't it be easier- and safer- to just photo copy them?" Alex closed the folder and looked at it contemplatively. Her focus shifted from the folder in her hands to the floor… "Oh, look, there it is," she said and bent over to pick it up.
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Logan logged off the computer grumbling to himself. "They used to do all of this by themselves before we got here, what's so special about them now?" He got up, walked over to the printer, snatched the papers from it and sorted them into folders. He walked over to his desk, set down the pile of folders, quickly scribbled something on a purple sticky note and then took the folders and sticky note to Eames' desk.
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Alex and Bobbygot back totheir desks and Eames sat down next toBobby. "Hey, Eames, there's something on yourdesk."
She reached over and picked up the folders. There was a purple sticky note on the top that read, "You owe me dinner," in Logan's handwriting.
"Yah right, you bastard," she muttered, removing the sticky and opening the first folder. "Oh great, what's all this about?"
Inside was a picture of the Steinman violin, then there was a receipt from an auction house, tax papers, and everything else documenting the sale of the Steinman violin.
"Bobby," she said, not looking up as she passed him the folder. She opened the next one. Inside was the file on a man named Mark Jones, whose name was on the auction receipt.
She passed that folder to Bobby and opened the next. It was the Germany record on James Karaka, but there wasn't a photo.
"Don't they take mug shots of these guys when they arrest them?" she asked before passing the folder to Bobby.
"I don't know," he said absentmindedly. "Let's go."