Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
A/N: Thanks for reading. You seem enthusiastic and that's exciting to me. This story is really a roller coaster. I am trying to stay in character so there is not much in the way of declarations of everlasting love. I am focusing on their connection to one another as I would see the two of them play it out. I appreciate your comments.
Sheila
Chapter 3Control
Her cell phone went off and she sighed. Bobby was changing his mind about the bagel. He did this incessantly, ordering and reordering two or three times when they went to eat. She picked it up and spoke, "It's too late. I already paid for it. I am now going to handle it so that the counter girl sees, and you will not be able to make an exchange."
A chuckle sounded that sent a chill through her.
"You have five minutes to get up here before he dies."
"Jimmy! What have you done?"
"You can't play me like this; sending him up here to just take over my life. It's ridiculous."
"I want to talk to my partner!"
"I am assuming you're at the coffee shop across the street. I need to see you coming out of there now, and making your way into this building. You have 4 minutes, and 30 seconds to grace my door way."
"Does he need an ambulance? Let me call—"
"No! You stay on the phone with me. I have already hit him once in the head with a baseball bat. You hang up and I'll do it again. It's hard to swing with any real force when you're talking on the phone, I think."
"I'm on the street."
He could see her running across traffic, swerving around cars, the sounds of this being amplified over the cell. "Be careful! You are no good to me if you're hurt."
She disappeared under the awning of his apartment building.
"I know you're going to bring your weapon. I won't stop you. You'll just hide it. Besides I like you with a gun. I also know that you've been mouthing messages to people about calling 911. If one of them follows through, I'm still not worried. It will take them a minute to decide, and a minute for dispatch to decipher whether it is a real emergency. It will not be a quick response. Are you in the elevator?"
Alex breathed into the phone, "Yes!"
"You covered the receiver at the reception desk downstairs, I heard you. But I'm not worried. Reynaldo is not a heavy thinker. It will take him quite a few minutes to figure out how to handle your information. He knows that the management company does not like squad cars parked in front of their properties. What floor are you on?"
"I am at 12."
"Good, you're almost here. I'll meet you at the door."
He grinned at her when she emerged from the elevator, a gun trained on him. She was breathing hard. The phone was no where to be seen. "Get down on the ground, Jimmy! I will shoot!"
Jimmy's head disappeared into the apartment and the door closed. She cursed.
"You can't come in until you promise to behave yourself. In the meantime, Detective Goren is bleeding onto my new carpet which is a pain, although unavoidable."
"Open the door or I will open it for you!"
"Sorry, it's a security door. Would you like to have a stand off? Your partner can bleed to death here while you gather your forces. We can negotiate into the night. You can go over in your head how you could have prevented his death. Then you can think about what you will tell his mother."
"I'm not putting the gun down!"
"Fine, but if you want this handled now, you will have to understand that his life is in my hands. You are not running the show. Are you listening to my voice? Do you hear panic? Do you hear regret?"
"Open the door. We'll negotiate."
The lock switched, and Alex took a deep breath. She pushed the door open, surveying the space before entering. Jimmy was in the middle of the room kneeling beside Bobby, a gun to Bobby's temple.
He looked so pale lying there, his eyes closed. Blood had pooled under his face. She had never seen him like this before. He was so vulnerable, so lifeless, and her breath caught, her eyes stinging.
"You have a choice. You can reason with me, and we can do this for the next three hours or you can put your gun down, and you and I will leave together. We'll call for an ambulance, and the two of us will go somewhere to talk. What do you say?"
She couldn't tell if he was still breathing. She closed her eyes and forced herself to concentrate. Putting down the gun was not something she was prepared to do, but she was pretty sure he wouldn't last lying there like that. She also knew that people thought that her gun was her only weapon.
"Alex! He's dying. Make a choice!"
She locked eyes with Jimmy. "I put down the gun, and we leave together. Give me some guarantees."
He smiled. "I won't hurt you. I'm not like Ronald. He was a pig. I am a romantic. I just want to spend time with you. I want you to know me for who I really am. I want you to feel my love for you. I promise that coming with me will be the least dangerous option you have."
"We call for an ambulance before we leave this apartment?"
"Of course. It will be much better than you think. In a couple of days, you will understand more about my heart, and why we can be so good together."
Alex slowly put her weapon down on the floor and stood up again. A siren sounded out the window, and Jimmy's head jerked. She didn't have time to grab it again so she rushed him. The small woman, who no one would ever imagine a threat, took her training very seriously. She slammed a fist into his abdomen, and then replaced it with a knee aimed a little lower. Jimmy doubled over in surprise. With both hands, she slammed down on the top of his spinal column. He grabbed her around the legs and carried her onto the sofa. They began to wrestle and his fist found her face twice. The second time, it dazed her. She struggled to clear her head, and the weight on top of her disappeared. She pulled herself up, and saw the door swinging open and Jimmy no where in sight. She lurched for her gun and pointed it at the door. In her blouse, a voice was calling her name over and over. She picked it out of her bra, "Captain, he took off before I could subdue him. Bobby's bad. I need a bus. Now!"
She slumped back onto the floor and crawled over to him. He was so still. Keeping her gun and eyes trained on the door, she felt for his wrist. She found it and wrapped her fingers tightly around it. Her hands were shaking so hard that, for a moment, she could feel nothing, but then she found it, weak but steady. She let out a huge sigh of relief, and let the tears fall unhindered down her face.
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"The two of you are the best detectives on my squad, arguably the best team of detectives in the five boroughs, and you pull this nonsense. I don't even know what to say to you."
Deakins paced back and forth in front of her. Eames sat in a seat, her head in her hands. The harsh light of the hospital waiting room beat down on her. Her head hurt tremendously, and her face was too tender to touch.
"I got one detective hanging on by a thread, and then there's you with a face bruised up like a piece of bad fruit. And I can't even tell the chief about your case because you don't have one. I get some story from you about a stalker who was a witness from the Wick case, and how you wanted to handle it alone, but then Goren found out and neither one of you took ten minutes to really think about this guy and do your research. Instead he goes in, no real plan in hand, and agitates a crazy guy. Then you play cowboy and try to take him in his apartment by yourself. Am I forgetting anything?"
She shook her head. "This was my fault."
"This was both of you. He thinks he's invincible, and you have been running around with a chip on your shoulder ever since the Wick case. The two of you were ripe for a major screw-up."
She reached up to feel her aching cheek, and her face jerked at the touch.
Deakins sat down across from her. "Have you been checked? You look horrible."
Before she could answer, she caught sight of the always impeccable Ron Carver coming down the hallway followed by Logan and Barak. Deakins got up to meet them.
"How is Detective Goren?" Carver got straight to the point.
Deakins shook his head. "We don't know anything. They're working on him in trauma."
Carver turned his attention to Alex. Reluctantly she looked up at him. Logan saw her and whistled low. Carver shook his head. "This man is crazy. Absolutely psychotic."
"Yeah, well wait 'til you actually hear about him," Deakins said.
Carver raised an eyebrow. "I have. He called me."
"What!" Alex was on her feet. A wave of discomfort hit her, and she grabbed the arm of the chair for support. Logan stepped over and put a hand on her arm. He gestured for her to sit again.
"He called me forty minutes ago. He was quite irate. Felt that his civil rights had been violated. Quoted an old New York City statute from the 18th century describing women as chattel or property to their men. Says that in addition to marriage, there is a sentence that reads something like…'men who clearly have domain over a woman are covered by this law.' He claims Eames here as his property. Says the statute has never been repealed so he insists that Alex be handed over to him."
Deakins shook his head. "Damn! We really woke up a nutcase here."
"Says his obsession can be claimed as documentation of his dominion over her. Says Goren has failed to meet this criteria as he hasn't properly laid claim to her."
Alex shook her head. "I never knew. He was persistent but always polite. It wasn't 'til he broke into my apartment that I felt fear."
Deakins twirled toward her. "More information I didn't know. This is becoming comedic."
Logan placed his hand on her shoulder. "It happens, Captain. You know that. We let our guard down. We get cocky. I got first hand experience with this."
Deakins shook his head and looked away. Carver returned to his narrative. "I told him that this statute had been repealed, and he said it hadn't, and indeed it hadn't, but it carries no weight because modern law and the constitution supersede antiquated laws.
He then asked for immunity against prosecution for assaulting Detective Goren because his civil rights had been violated. I had no idea what had happened, of course, but I told him that I prosecute any assault on a police officer to its fullest extent. Then he called me a 'black fascist' and hung up."
"He's psychotic and dangerous. Alex and Bobby are both going to need protection," said Barak as she kneeled in front of Alex. She studied her face and brought a finger up to lightly touch her cheek. Alex flinched. "You're going to need an X-ray."
"I'm fine," Alex mumbled.
Barak took her hand. "Come on, Alex. We're not going too far. These guys will bring us updates." Alex looked at Deakins, and he nodded. She got up and reluctantly followed Barak down the hallway.
Deakins looked at the ceiling. "We're going to need guards on Goren, and I haven't a clue what to do with Eames."
"This case is mine. Barak and I are laying claim. Major Case Squad doesn't stand by and let some looney tune do this to our people."
Deakins raised an eyebrow. "He's tricky."
"I got resources. Barak's got a brain like a friggin' library. Plus I know a shrink, Skoda, who would love to get his hands on this case."
Carver nodded. "Skoda's a good man."
"You don't know Eames well yet, but I guarantee that you are not going to be able to keep her away from this. She's as stubborn as a mule when she wants to be."
"It's okay, Captain. She works with us. We watch her. She can stay with Barak. Perp's not going to want to get that close. Besides, I think this mope just surprised them. My guess is that he's no major player otherwise we'd have some kind of paper on him somewhere."
"I got a bad feeling about this, people. I don't mind telling you." Deakins looked at both man warily before walking away.
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He was in intensive care but the news could have been worse. There was a skull fracture and a concussion, but the swelling had been contained, his vitals were good, and surgery was not indicated. Nurses in ICU were sticklers for rules, but they knew cops, and nobody said a word when the small, blonde woman with the badly bruised face wanted to see him. They told her to stay quiet and they let her hold his hand.
Barak and Logan were gathering a task force, and Eames had no current role in that. So she sat and waited until they came for her. She held his big hand in both of hers. Bobby was a meticulous man. His hands were surely manicured at least once a month while her own looked like those of a nervous teen-ager with a penchant for biting off hang nails. It was only one of the many differences between them. He was big, bold, brilliant. She, on the other hand, had made a career out of being underestimated. She didn't care if they thought she was smart; that was Bobby's domain. She was the one who showed up with the sharp comment the moment they least expected. She lived for the surprise in people's eyes every time she showed how substantial she could be. She could still surprise Bobby, but not in the same way. He knew she had endless depth. It was why she worried so much after the Wick murder. That incident told her that Bobby could no longer be objective about her. The thought of it overwhelmed her, taking her to places she had promised she would never visit.
Her head was pounding and exhaustion was overtaking her so she laid her head down on his hand and rested. It seemed like only minutes before Carolyn Barak was waking her up. Alex protested halfheartedly. She felt like the only meaningful rest was going to happen in this room, her hands covering his, her cheek monitoring the pulse on his wrist.
Carolyn shook her head. "You need something more than what you can get sitting vigil for him. You're coming to my place. I have a bed for you."
"I feel better being here."
"Alex, we have two guards on him. If you stay, we know Ross will come for you. He's frothing at the mouth. I can feel it. Come home with me. We'll get a few hours of real rest. It will make a difference. Tomorrow we gotta wake up and find this guy. Okay?"
Alex couldn't find any life left inside her. She let Barak pull her to her feet. She reluctantly let go of Bobby's hand and followed Barak out the door.
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The sun was rising; the warm colors of morning spread across the skyline. Alex pressed her cheek against the window. The cold pane soothed her battered face. She had only slept a few hours. The events of the last two days played over in her head as she marked the many moments when she should have made different choices.
She felt foolish and ashamed, and the lump in her throat grew every time she remembered Bobby lying on that man's floor. Big, strong Bobby lying there helpless; it was an image she couldn't shake. She had never seen him not be the most powerful person in the room, and she felt that she was the one responsible for that.
An old clock on the wall chimed the hour and she blinked. It was 6 a.m. Her exhaustion should've dictated sleep, but the pain in her gut wouldn't allow it. She heard feet shuffle softly and Carolyn Barak came into the room, hair tousled and barefoot. She wore an old white nightgown that made her look something like a romance heroine.
"Did you sleep at all?" she murmured.
Alex nodded. "A few hours."
"Did you call the hospital?"
"Yeah, about fifteen minutes ago. He's in stable but serious condition."
Carolyn rubbed her eyes, and disappeared into the kitchen. Alex could hear the soothing sounds of a percolator, and Carolyn reappeared in a few minutes with two steaming cups of coffee.
"Punishing yourself doesn't help you, Bobby or us. Just thought I'd let you know."
Alex took a sip of the steaming hot brew. "I've been trying to beat that into myself since about 4 a.m. this morning."
Carolyn nodded. "Sorry it's been so rough for you."
"Yeah, me too."
"Hey! How 'bout I make you some eggs. I have an old frittata recipe from my grandmother that is just sublime."
Alex shook her head. "My stomach's not accepting food this morning."
"Okay, well, your stomach has the next six hours to get on board because lunch is going to be mandatory."
Alex tried to smile, but her swollen face was stiff and sore, and all she could pull off was a pained grimace.
Knocking erupted at the door and Alex jumped. Carolyn was on her feet, digging into her coat on the wall. She pulled out her weapon and advanced on the door. Alex disappeared into the bedroom to find her gun. Carolyn put her eye to the peephole and then relaxed visibly. "What are you doing here at 6:15 in the morning?"
Alex watched with apprehension. Then she heard the muffled bass in his voice and brought the gun down to her side. "I got news. Let me in."
"It's about Bobby!"
Carolyn looked back at her, and then opened the door. Logan filled the doorway. "No, not about Bobby. I got news on the perp." His eyes stopped at Barak and he smiled. "I haven't seen a nightgown like that since Grandma Logan died."
Barak slammed the door in his face. "You can wait out there." Then she trotted to her bedroom.
"Aw, come on." Came the muffled reply. "Eames, take pity on me here."
Alex went to the door and opened it. "Behave yourself," was all she said, but her mottled face and solemn demeanor carried the message as far as it needed to go. Logan nodded and followed her into the apartment. She returned to her spot by the window, and reached for her coffee cup. He sat next to her. She felt his eyes on her and turned to him.
"How you feeling, Eames?"
"Been better," she said softly.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
"Only when I think of what an idiot I've been."
He chuckled. "You got nothing on me. I've pulled some classics. I once planned to kill the guy who shot my partner. Almost did it too."
She raised her eyebrows. "You could have lost everything."
He put his arm around her. "You know, Kid, it's amazing that more of us don't end up in the joint. I mean, they set us up in these crazy jobs where all we see is evil, and then our hands are constantly tied when we try and stop it. I'm not complaining. The system is the way it is, and nobody's stopping me from changing careers. It's just very frustrating to do what we do because sometimes we have to be violent to stop violence and sometimes there's no outlet for us."
"I was stupid not violent."
"You misjudged a situation. That's all. Happens all the time. We all do it. Take it easy on yourself."
"You know Logan, you're this weird combination of big brother and local mob boss."
"Believe it or not, I've heard similar from other people." He smiled at her and squeezed her shoulder. It felt good to have him there. There was this weird innocence about the man. He could be very sweet to people especially when he could tell they were struggling.
Alex looked up to see Carolyn standing there, running her fingers through her hair. "So what's the news?"
Logan nodded. "Yeah, well, I couldn't sleep last night and so I started some background on Ross. Found something very interesting. Thought you girls might want to go on a little road trip with me."
Barak frowned at him. "You couldn't be more vague right now."
"Found a woman in New Rochelle. Tried to make a kidnapping report on Ross three years ago. Says he held her for almost 2 years. It didn't make sense, but one of the detectives wrote it up anyway. I called her. She's going to meet us halfway."
Alex nodded and went for her coat.
"Are you sure we shouldn't drop you at the hospital?"
"No, I'm coming. I need to feel useful."
Logan looked at Barak and she shrugged. He let out a deep breath and held the door open for his colleagues.
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TBC