4

Rune Alignment

Chapter 15.

"Have any new calls come in on the redirect from the professor's home phone?" Eames asked Jerry. She had decided to come in on Saturday morning to get a head start on the cell phone investigation. After all, she had nothing else going on in her life.

"Actually, she had unplugged her landline. The caller would have gotten a 'try again later' message. I'm sure that pissed him off," Jerry replied.

"Well, that's just great. How do we get her to plug it back in? We have her cell phone and her home phone is unplugged. We can't wait on this."

"Not to worry. I called the cell Goren took to her. He answered it this morning at her place and he plugged her in. No new calls have come in yet," Jerry explained.

So, Bobby's at Wintermantle's place. Well, what do you know? Why doesn't that surprise me, she thought. Eames was disappointed in herself at how she felt about that bit of information. Her mind began to race. Did he spend the night? Did they have sex? What are they doing now? Is he still there? Are they still in bed? Good grief, she told herself, get a grip. Images flew through her inner eye. She saw them kissing, touching. She saw them in bed, him on top, she straddling him. Eames saw everything she had ever imagined him doing to her, but now she saw the professor in her place. A profound sadness descended on Eames.

"I transferred the messages from her cell to disc," Jerry told her. "Now the caller has lots of room to talk his dirty talk on her cell. Martin is coming in this afternoon to begin the voiceprints. He would be here now, but his kid has a game this morning." Jerry looked at Eames and kind of figured what was going on in her mind. Her disappointment was clear. Why do women do this, he thought, why do they fall for guys who view them as a sister. Eames is so not Bobby's type. I bet he doesn't even know Eames has the hots for him. "Eames?"

Eames jumped from her reverie, "I'm sorry, Jerry, I wasn't listening. What did you say?"

"Martin is coming in later to start the voice prints. Want me to do anything in the meantime?"

"Yeah, actually, can you dupe the message disc so Louise can begin the transcription? We'll also need a copy of the disc and a copy of the transcription for Huang over at Special Victims so he can begin a profile. Is Louise in this weekend?"

"I haven't seen her. But I've been in here the whole time."

"Martin will have to pull in-system voice prints matching Huang's profile, once it's completed, and begin to look for a match to the caller's prints. There's a lot to do." Eames had decided to immerse herself in work to forget about her hurt. She had learned to do that well over the years. Her loneliness is part of what made her so good at her work.

Jerry continued, "I should give Bobby a call and see if he wants to come in and have some fun with us, huh?"

"No. Don't bother him on his weekend off. I'll call him later to update him and to see how the professor is doing. I'll talk with you later. I'm going to see if Louise is in."

Jerry watched the tiny detective walk away. She was so much like his cousin Ann – a nice, professional woman who never seemed to get a date and would probably end up never marrying, denying her loneliness, pining over something that would never be.

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Bobby and Gleason parked and walked the few blocks to the market. He basked in her happiness and she in his. They strolled up and down the aisles, holding hands.

Bobby couldn't help but check out every man they passed. He was looking for someone looking at her. It wasn't an easy task because Gleason was tall and stunning; she got many second looks from lots of men. He kept a tight hold on her hand, only letting go when she wanted to fondle produce. So far, no one looked suspicious; and, they hadn't purchased a thing.

"How about if I make us dinner tonight? We can stay in and watch a movie. What do you say?" Bobby looked at her expectantly.

"I don't have a television," Gleason explained plainly.

"Then we'll go to my place. I have a TV and a DVD player." And fresh sheets on the bed he thought to himself. Slowly, slowly, don't mess this up.

"Hey, Dr. Wintermantle! Fancy meeting you here," Elliott shouted as he trotted toward them. Bobby thought he heard Gleason utter a short groan at the sound of the student's voice. He let go of Gleason's hand and stepped slightly in front of her as they turned toward the voice behind them. "Whatcha doin'? Find anythin' good? I just checked out the flea market, they have some old stuff over there. You should go see if anything is valuable. Who's this?"

"Elliott; it seems I can't get away from you," Gleason responded, ignoring his question. "I am enjoying this lovely morning as are you. I won't keep you. Enjoy the weekend." She took Bobby's arm and turned to leave.

"Hi, I'm Elliott, one of Dr. Wintermantle's students," Elliott said as he stuck out his right hand for Bobby to take.

Bobby ignored the hand and said nothing but looked at the student, trying to gauge him – age, origin, and mindset. Though Elliott's behavior and appearance seemed to put him in his early to mid twenties, on close inspection, he was older, by maybe ten years. His speech was colloquial, but studied, almost forced, perhaps to ensure no trace of an accent.

Bobby pulled his arm from Gleason and stepped completely in front of her. In a low, intimidating voice he said, "I understand you are in all of Dr. Wintermantle's classes. What is your major?"

Something flashed across the student's face, a cloud, a glimpse of anger; he didn't blink nor did he look away. Elliott shifted his weight from one foot to the other and answered, "I'm keeping my options open right now. And you are. . ." Elliott extended his hand again.

Bobby ignored the hand a second time, waited, took a step toward the student and said darkly, "I am . . . curious as to why someone would take a full load of classes in a relatively narrow, specialized field. I am curious as to why someone would seem to follow another person; infringing on that person's private time outside of what is proper, barging in at private, inopportune times. I am wondering if you are not stalking Dr. Wintermantle. And, I am wondering if I shouldn't just take you in right now." Bobby had slipped his right hand into his front pocket and had cupped his shield in his hand. He pulled it from his pocket and turned his hand for Elliott to see, then continued, "Now why don't you leave Dr. Wintermantle alone, see her in class, and get a life. Ok?"

Elliott glanced at the badge and then stared at Bobby; he had let his hand fall. Bobby stared back at the student and saw something raw behind his eyes, a sharp light, honed with fury, fearless. Something is not right with this guy, Bobby thought.

The moment ended and Elliott turned to Gleason and said, "See you Monday." Then he turned and marched away. Bobby watched until the student had disappeared into the crowd. When Elliott was no longer in sight, he turned toward Gleason, pulled her close and hugged her, no passion, just held her to keep her safe. Is this the guy, Bobby wondered. Gleason cannot continue to teach her classes until the perp is found.

She was amazed at what had just taken place; Bobby's behavior astounded her. "Well, you certainly told him, didn't you," Gleason said, slipping her arms under his jacket, around his waist, looking up at him. It was like hugging a warm, stone turret. She stood close and pressed against him. He was so big, so strong, she felt so safe. She wanted him as she had wanted no other man. Right now, in the car, it didn't matter. She could see herself spending the rest of her life with this man. Whoa, slow down lass, she told herself, granted, what just happened was impressive; and, yes, she felt safe with him, he was good to her – but what lies beneath that strength? What else can he do, might he do, would he do, to her? What else – indeed.