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Rune Alignment

Chapter 16

"Goren," he said into his cell phone.

"Bobby, it's me."

"Eames. What's up?"

"Jerry said you got Wintermantle's phone plugged back in."

"Yeah, have any calls come across? How are the disc copies coming?"

He stood and watched Gleason pay for two green peppers, two tomatoes, a bag of mushrooms, and endive. She took her change, smiled at the vendor and walked back to Bobby.

"No. No calls on the redirect. Jerry copied all the cell phone messages to disc and is copying the discs now. Loui. . ."

"Here, let me have those," Bobby mumbled quietly as he reached to take the bag of vegetables from Gleason.

"Where are you? What are you doing?" Eames asked, almost afraid of his answer.

"Huh? Oh . . ." a pause, ". . . at the market getting groceries."

"Is Wintermantle with you?"

"Yeah . . . I, uh, thought I would, uh, stay close. We had another interesting encounter with that student, Elliott. I'll tell you about it when I see you. You were going to say something about Louise?"

"Yeah, she's off this weekend, so nothing is going to happen with the transcription until Monday at the earliest. The rest of the transcription pool is choked with work. Huang is going to want a transcription of the calls to go with the disc, so his profile is at least few days out. Martin will be in later today to begin the voiceprints. He won't be able to pull in-house prints matching Huang's profile until Huang is done writing it. We're probably going to need a warrant to get copies of the messages from her home phone message service. That'll be Monday, too. Everything is moving pretty slowly till then."

"We're going to stop by and drop off an evidence bag. An envelope was slipped under her door last night. No one is probably working in trace this weekend, huh?"

"I don't think so. That's one more thing for Monday. So, I'll see you this afternoon sometime?"

"Yeah, probably sooner than later. Talk to you then."

Eames sat at her desk, hand still on the receiver after having hung it up. How many times did he say "we"?

Bobby reached for Gleason's hand as they started walking again, her left hand lost in his right. "When we're done here, I need to stop by work and drop off the envelope. I want to get it in line for examination early on Monday."

Gleason nodded, but said nothing. They walked along quietly, looking at the different booths. This is nice, just being together like this, she thought. He is nice, he seems normal. He is kind, gentle, brave. They had met fewer than 48 hours ago and it seemed as though she had known him her whole life. But, wait, you don't know him, do you? Don't really know him; don't know what lies beneath. How tired she was of being cautious, second-guessing herself and every one she met. He's nice, he's normal. He is, isn't he?

Looky, looky, here they are. Shopping, are we? What a lovely couple. Ah, young love; though not so young anymore, she's early forties by now and he's looking at fifty in a few. Holding hands, isn't that sweet? They'll have sex tonight, he knew. Yes indeed, they'll go at each other like two rutting pigs. She'll open her legs and let him inside. She'll be so wet, and warm and tight. Oh, the sounds she'll make as he jabs himself into her. He'll be big, he may hurt her, make her cry out with pain. She'll be afraid of his size; afraid he'll rip her. He'll be in such a hurry to fuck her, he won't care about hurting her, he won't even notice my work. Not until afterward, then he'll see what I've done; and, he'll be repulsed. He'll never want to empty himself into her again. He'll never want to see her again. Then, she'll come back to me. She'll let me do whatever I want because she'll be so afraid. Oh, the sounds she makes when she is afraid, better than sex sounds. So much better.

He was nearly fully erect. He took off his jacket and carried it in front of himself as he went in search of a private place.

Bobby carried their purchases. They had all the makings of a wonderful salad, a loaf of French bread, cheese, and strawberries. Bobby planned to make pasta with chicken and artichoke hearts. He wanted to stop and get some good wine on the way to his place. He needed chicken and artichokes. Probably pasta and milk, too.

"But first, let's stop and drop off this envelope." They walked the few blocks back to his car in silence. He opened her door and then put the groceries in the back. He got in, put the key in the ignition, but didn't turn it. He sat looking at the steering wheel, deep in thought.

"What's wrong?"

Bobby turned to face her, searched her face, put his right hand on the back of her neck, leaned in and kissed her. She returned the kiss and shared his passion. This kiss was different; it was fervent, needful. Sexual tension crackled between them. Bobby's left hand slipped under her tee shirt, seeking her breast. A soft moan escaped from Gleason as Bobby found his mark and ran his thumb over the nipple. He was mildly surprised to feel an undershirt stretched tight. She was braless. He pulled away and looked at her, breathing heavily he said, "We need to stop this or we'll be arrested for having sex in a car," he said. She glanced at his lap and noticed the promise for later.

"I can wait for you here. I'll be fine."

"Absolutely not. You can wait at my desk, or in the interview room, or come with me, but you are not waiting out here. Come on, let's go," Bobby told her and held out his hand to help her from the car.

"There really is no arguing with you, is there?" Gleason replied with a hint of exasperation.

"Nope."

Once inside the lobby of One Police Plaza, Bobby pushed the up button at the elevator bank. "So, what do you want to do, come with me or wait at my desk?"

"I'll wait at your desk. I can find my way. You go on and do what you have to do."

The elevator opened and he ushered her in, followed her and pushed the buttons for the fourth and eleventh floors. "I won't be more than fifteen minutes. I'll come and get you. Wait at my desk, ok?" The doors opened.

"Ok, ok. Go." He was reaching inside his coat for the envelope as he turned and headed right.

Gleason saw Detective Eames working at her desk. "Hello, detective."

Eames looked up and said, rising, "Professor. Where's Bobby?"

Gleason smiled, pulled out Bobby's desk chair and sat down. "Your good partner ordered me to wait for him here. Please, call me Gleason."

"I see." Eames found it difficult to look directly at the professor. Suddenly, she could not make small talk. She had never been intimidated like this. Her mind raced with what she imagined they had done all night, this morning. The professor was living what Eames had only dreamt.

Eames seemed to be very busy, too busy for talk. Gleason found the silence awkward. "Would you prefer I wait in the interview room? Detective Goren said I might wait there as well."

'Detective Goren' – come on, Eames thought. "No, no, wait here. Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you." The silence was becoming more than uncomfortable. "How long have you and Detective Goren been partners, if I may ask?"

Eames looked up, "About seven years."

"That's a long time. You must be very good friends, working closely together for so long."

How do I respond to that? Eames wondered. "We're friends, I suppose. We're more like siblings, though, I guess."

"Siblings; that's nice." Gleason thought about this little woman working beside her giant partner every day, each one looking out for the other. She wondered if Eames felt like more than a sister toward Bobby.