Goren sat quietly in the passenger seat as Eames drove them back from Long Island. He was looking out the window, but his mind was far away. Eames left him to his thoughts for most of the trip. Finally, on the outskirts of Manhattan, she decided she'd had enough of the quiet. "Bobby?"
She had to call his name three more times and nudge him before he finally answered her. "Sorry, Eames. I was thinking."
"I could see that. I was wondering if you noticed the same cologne on Lydia as the other two girls."
"Yes."
"I take it there was nothing that jumped out at you from this scene."
"No. I, uh, I hope you don't feel excluded, Eames. I…understand how hard…things like this are. You know…children…"
"It's ok, Bobby. You don't exclude me. I don't have to be there to be included. Remember, you bounce everything in that mind of yours off me."
He gave her a small smile, then went off on one of his tangents, voicing something that had been troubling him. "I…I'm not sure I really like working with Special Victims."
"Why?" As if she had to ask…
"I don't mind Benson. She reminds me a little of you. Tough as nails, but sensitive. Stabler, though…I'm not sure what his deal is. He seems intent on pushing my buttons, and he's damn good at it."
"I noticed. You're doing a good job of not reacting to him."
"Until he hits the right button."
"I'll watch out for that, ok?"
He studied her. "I…Thanks, Eames."
He looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. He almost told her he didn't know what he'd do without her. And he didn't know; he really did need her. He hoped she knew that…but something stopped him from telling her.
Eames shifted in her seat, noticing his sudden discomfort. That could only mean something had popped into his head that made him uneasy. There was no way of telling what that something could be. And he wasn't about to tell her; if he was, he would have already started. Hearing a noise in the back seat, she looked over her shoulder. She had forgotten King was back there. "What are we going to do with that dog?"
"What? Oh, he'll just stay with us."
"We're taking him in to the squad?"
"Sure. He's used to squad rooms. He used to spend a lot of time with us in the Narcotics squad room."
"Why did you offer to keep him?"
"Remember that game I mentioned?"
"Cops and robbers."
"Right. I taught him to track a scent and find a person. Usually it was one of the kids. He's very good at it. He got the scent of this guy, Eames. By the time it occurred to me what he could do, it was too late to try. There were too many scents, and this guy was long gone. But if he strikes again…"
She nodded. "And he will…we can use King…"
"Right. To track him and find him."
"Oh, Carver's gonna love this. He's going to have to put a dog on the stand."
----------------------------------------------------
Deakins walked past Goren's desk and stopped, looking down at the furry tail that stuck out from under it. Then he looked at Goren, who was studying the crime scene report that had just been delivered. "Uh, Bobby?"
Goren looked up. Deakins looked down at the tail, and Goren followed his gaze. "Oh. That's King."
The tail wagged at the sound of his name. "Are you borrowing him from K-9?"
"No. From Barry Solomon."
"Who?"
"The father of this last victim. He and I were partners in Narcotics."
"And you're borrowing his dog? To bring in to work with you? I'm not following."
Eames was smiling. She enjoyed watching him mess with Deakins, but she stepped in before the captain started getting irritated. "He's a tracker, captain. Since we're no closer to getting this guy than we were when we started, we hope to use the dog to track him if this perp strikes again."
"When," Goren corrected. "Not 'if.' He will strike again. He's having too much fun watching us chase our tails. This is a game to him, and we provide his comic relief. He feels invincible and he's going to do it again. He thinks we can't catch him." He glanced down at the dog under his desk. "He's wrong."
Deakins sighed. As always, he gave Goren the leeway he silently asked for. "Just make sure he stays out of the way…and don't forget to walk him."
Goren smiled and went back to his report. After a few minutes, he glanced up at his partner. "Uh, Stabler and Benson…"
"What about them?"
"Do they know about the dog? Why I wanted to borrow him?"
"Not yet."
"Can you…?"
"No. It's your turn."
There was that stubborn look. No way he was getting out of it. With a heavy sigh, he picked up his phone and dialed, not missing the smile on his partner's face as she turned back to what she was doing.
"Special Victims, Stabler."
Great. Didn't it just figure? "This is Goren."
"You find something?"
"No. I, uh, wanted to let you know about the dog."
"What about him?"
"I...I mean he's a tracker. I taught him to…follow a person's scent and find him. That was the game…the one we were talking about."
"So you taught the dog to play a game. What does that have to do with the case?"
"When this guy strikes again, we're going to get King to track him."
Silence. Then, "How about we catch this scrub before he strikes again?"
Goren frowned. "Great idea, Stabler. Why didn't I think of that? Why don't you and your partner run right out and pick him up?"
"We sure will, as soon as you tell us where to find him, genius."
"You know, Stabler…" A pen bounced off his chest. He looked up at the woman who had thrown it at him. She had a warning look on her face. "Never mind."
He hung up the phone, his face dark. Eames shook her head. "Sarcasm just doesn't suit you, Bobby. It works much better coming from me."
He raised his eyebrows at her, the dark look fading from his eyes. "Ok, fine, Eames. You can call them from now on."
"Give me back my pen."
"I don't think so." He put it in his shirt pocket as he opened his portfolio and pulled out the crime scene photos from Solomon's house.
"Come on, Goren. That's my favorite pen."
"You shouldn't have thrown it at me."
"Fine. Keep it. I'll get it back later."
He looked up from the photos. "Is that a promise, Eames?"
"You wish." She pulled another pen from the mug between their desks and went back to work.