46
Aligned Design
Ch 54
Wednesday morning, Bobby told Dr. Stephens about the miscarriage. He told her how he had accused Gleason of ending the pregnancy. He told her how sorry he was. He told her this is why he had to get control of his anger. His guilt hung on him like wet wool – cold and heavy. It was so hard to talk about it. Bobby cried and cried. Dr. Stephens was kind, gentle; she did not press, did not push. She let him talk and let him cry. He needed to do both for his own physical and mental health. Their session lasted less than an hour.
Brandon called their apartment and asked Gleason if she was all right. She told him she would be back Thursday morning. She gave him no explanation. She owed that university nothing. Becky, from across the hall, stopped by to see how she was, to see if she wanted to talk. She did not.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Eames watched Bobby walk from the elevators. He walked slowly; he looked like he had been crying. What is going on with him, she wondered. He hung up his coat and then sat, flipping open his portfolio.
"Bobby, can I get you some coffee?" Eames asked softly.
He just shook his head, not looking at her. Eames wanted to ask him what was wrong; but, to be honest, she was afraid of him. She did not want to say or do anything to upset him, to make him fly into a rage. Eames watched as he wiped his hands over his face and then shudder a huge sigh. She needed to know what was going on. She turned and walked to Deakins' office.
"Do you have a minute?" she asked at the open door.
"Sure, what's up?"
Eames entered, pulled the door shut behind her, and sat across from the boss. "Bobby looks like he's been crying. He's back early from Dr. Stephens. Is there something I should know?"
Deakins did not know what to tell her, so he told her the truth. "Gleason had a miscarriage two nights ago."
"Oh, no." Eames was truly sorry. She could only imagine what Gleason must be feeling. What Bobby must be feeling. Eames could not imagine surviving a miscarriage when she was carrying her nephew for her sister and brother-in-law. It was her greatest joy, to be pregnant. She had never felt so alive.
"Uh, don't say anything to him about it. Don't say anything to, to Sledge, either. Let's keep this quiet, ok? Bobby's pretty private about things."
"Of course, of course." Eames sat for a moment. "Why is he here? Why was he here yesterday? He should be home with her."
"I don't know. I don't think things are good at home. This may end it for them. God I hope not. They've been through so much, now this." Eames and Deakins sat silently for a minute. "Alex, keep an eye on him. Keep him safe."
Eames nodded and returned to her desk.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bobby did not look up as she sat. "Did he tell you?" he asked.
Eames looked at him and said, "Bobby, I'm so sorry."
He looked up, nodded and put up his hands as if to say, no more. He squeezed his eyes with his left hand and sniffed. "Uh," he cleared his throat, "uh, this came in while you were with Deakins." He handed her a fax sheet. "It's the information on the car with Jenese's and Tillman's wallets. The car was registered to Dominic Jenese. The content list is included as well. Notice the roll of wired hose. And, the Melbourne PD is going to email photos of the artwork found in the truck and back seat of the car."
Eames looked up with raised eyebrows. "So, the paintings have been found. The roll of hose – what do you want to bet it's the same kind of hose as the piece that you found with the bodies?"
Bobby nodded and added, "Rodgers said she found DNA from two individuals inside the piece of hose, one matching Jenese. I bet the other belongs to the artist, Meraux Peignoir. I'll call the ME and ask her to run a compare of the second DNA with that of the artist. If it's a match, we will have Jenese on three murders. And, push another case to the solve column." Bobby said all of this steadily. He lacked his subtle sense of excitement that he usually exhibited when the pieces started to fall into place in a case.
Eames smiled at her partner, "This is very good news. Here's more. We got a full statement from Canvettelli yesterday. He implicated himself and he doesn't even know it. Deakins called Carver who is bringing over warrants for Canvettelli, Jenese and Tillman."
Bobby nodded and asked, "Where are those three? Aren't they going to run?"
"No, that's the beauty of this. Canvettelli thinks he's helping us. I told him he was to keep the other two at his place. He thinks he's working undercover for us. He's a real piece of work. You saw him."
Bobby nodded again. "So, we execute the warrants on all three of them at Canvettelli's apartment. What are the charges?"
"Conspiracy, grand theft, and insurance fraud, to start."
Bobby nodded and said, "Well, we can get Jenese for Peignoir's, Navicky's and Pangborn's murders. Carver will want to see the ME's report and that footage probably, before he issues those."
Eames smiled, albeit sadly, "Well, we just have to go pick 'em up. Carver said the warrants will be here before noon."
Bobby nodded.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Carver arrived three hours later with a warrant for the arrests of Canvettelli, Jenese and Tillman. "Good work, detectives."
"We may need three more," Deakins said. "Detective Goren found the footage of Jenese shooting Navicky and Pangborn. Wait till you see it."
"And the ME is checking the second DNA in the hose against that of the painter. If it's a match, and I believe it will be, we will have Jenese on that one as well," Bobby added.
"Well, well, Detective, good work again and again," Carver said. "As soon as we have confirmation, I'll call my office and start that paperwork."
"We're putting together the arrest team now. Those three will be in custody within the hour. They're at Canvettelli's apartment," Deakins explained.
"Hopefully, arraignment will take place tomorrow morning." Carver noticed that Goren and Eames were not saying much. Goren, in particular, was being reticent. At this point in a case, he was up front, pontificating on the fine points of the case. Carver saw the tall detective sitting, slouched in his seat, not really listening. Odd.
"Ok, let's go get them." Deakins and his two best detectives headed out.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Canvettelli fell back gasping, "Oh, oh, I am so sore. I cannot take anyone else."
"You silly boy, you've had everyone here. Unless you want to try and take yourself!" Jenese found himself hilarious.
Tilley lay back thinking how good Cann was. How tight. How big his mouth was and how it pulled on Tilley's cock. He really liked Cann. He loved Jenny, of course, and loved what Jenny did . . . oh, but this Cann – oh!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They approached quietly, no sirens, no lights. The building manager stood by with the master key. Eames took the lead with Deakins as Goren was still without his weapon. Bobby felt impotent. He stayed back, behind the uniforms. He didn't even want to be there. He wanted to be home.
Slowly, quietly, they made their way up the steps.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The three men lay quietly for a few minutes. Not moving, just resting. Then, Canvettelli felt himself begin to move. "Oh, oh, oh! What do you know! My little man is on the go." It was an old gay nursery rhyme. "He's going, all by himself. Look!"
Tilley and Jenny rolled over and watched Canvettelli's flaccid penis begin to fill and stiffen. Cann himself lifted up, leaned back on his elbows, and watched his member jerk alive. The three men watched, enthralled, like boys watching a worm.
Tilley had to admit, it was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. It was as if Cann's rod was alive. He watched as it lengthened, thickened, firmed. It darkened as it hardened. Oh, God.
Cann began to breathe heavily. The three men watched as his tool curved slightly and begin to rise up, fully erect, a snake out of a basket. Tilley and Jenny began to harden watching the show.
"Somebody, suck it. Suck it, will you," Cann said deeply. Tilley fell onto Cann's legs, took it into his mouth and sucked hard. Jenny moved around behind Tilley and entered him, pulling on Tilley's pole and bag. They went at each other working each other's goods. Building, building, oh, oh, yeah, like that.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The building manager unlocked the door and then he was ushered away. He was told to go back downstairs. Slowly, quietly, Eames entered, then Deakins, weapons drawn. Uniformed officers filed in silently behind them, spreading through the living room, checking the kitchen, the closet.
The three playmates could be heard from the bedroom. It sounded like they were just about ready to finish something big and in a big way. Deakins and Eames were just outside the bedroom door; Deakins put up a hand in hesitation and waited for the sound of climax. Three male voices sounded in an orgasmic chorus and Deakins signaled the go.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gleason sat at the kitchen table. She had made a pot of tea and had poured a cup. Three hours later, she and the tea were still at the table, and both were cold. Her shivering brought her around. She shook her head and stood, intending to get the throw from the back of the sofa.
She walked into the living room, crossed to the sofa and saw the missing cushion. It was like a missing tooth in a smile. She stopped short and couldn't move another step. She remembered everything. The pain, the flooding, telling Bobby, him holding her, him looking at her. Then he screamed at her. He slammed the door. She remembered curling up in the corner of the sofa. Then she couldn't breathe. Her chest had felt heavy. She knew what was happening. She had felt that same weight when her heart had stopped in the hospital while she was recovering from the shooting.
Gleason recalled seeing herself from over there. She turned her head and looked at the short bookcase. Yes, she had leaned on it, looking at herself on the sofa. How could she, how could she . . . be over there and over there at the same time?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deakins opened the door quietly and he and Eames, and the four officers with them stood, with weapons trained on the three revelers, and watched them finish. Eames could have died. She looked down, red as a beet. The police couldn't tell where the orgasms quit and the squeals of fear began. Jenese saw them first and squealed out loud. Then Tilley looked up and he squealed, Canvettelli kept coming and finally he looked over and then he squealed.
The three lovers had an audience of six with weapons drawn.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Angie Deakins sat in the paneled waiting room. Dr. George Huang's private practice office was in a brownstone on Westwood. Her daughter Julie was inside, talking to the NYPD psychiatrist. George was a good friend and worked with the Special Victims Unit. The hospital had reported Julie's rape to the SVU; Stabler and his new partner had shown up in the ER. Jim Deakins had spoken to his associates and they assured him Matt Baldwin would not get off easy.
Angie was exhausted. She was afraid to sleep for fear Julie would leave again. Jim had rigged Julie's bedroom door so it would not lock. Angie slept with their bedroom door open. Jim slept on the sofa at the bottom of the steps; he would awaken should Julie come down the steps.
Angie was concerned for Jim's health. She knew how worried he was about Julie. She also knew about the pressure to increase his department's solve rate. Angie made Jim an appointment for a complete physical.
Julie had retreated into herself and had stopped eating. She still wore the same baggy sweat pants and sweatshirt she had put on after coming home from hospital, two days ago. She had not bathed. Angie made Julie drink juice, just to keep her hydrated. At least her little girl obliged with that.
Nearly an hour later, the door opened and George stood by while Julie exited. "Thank you again for talking with me, Julie. Your mom and I are going to talk a while. I'd like you to go with Chi Lyn, here. She's going to take you to the library. You can read or use the computer in there if you like. I'll see you again."
George handed off Julie to the lovely Asian woman who seemed to materialize from thin air. She watched as her daughter followed Chi Lyn down the hall. George motioned for Angie to step into his office.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Eventually everyone was dressed and cuffed.
"Why are you cuffing me, Detective?" Canvettelli asked Eames as she slid them shut. He whispered, "Is this part of the ruse? Don't worry, I'll play along."
"No, Mr. Canvettelli, you are under arrest, too."
He spun as best he could, and tried to look at her with eyes and mouth wide open. "What! I am not under arrest! I helped you! I was undercover! You cannot arrest me. Detective, I am a victim here! Detective, please, take these off!"
"Get him out of here," Eames said to one of the uniformed.
Canvettelli could be heard squawking all the way down the stairs.
Bobby wandered into the bedroom with his arms clasped behind his back. He looked around but did not say anything. He had no idea why he was even there.
Deakins and Eames looked at him.
"Bobby, why don't you go home? Go be with Gleason," Deakins said.
"Is she still in hospital?" Eames asked.
Bobby shook his head. He looked at his watch; it was just past one. "I'll ride back with Eames. Then, I am going to the range. If that's ok," he said softly.
"Then go home. She needs you, Bobby."
Bobby could not look at either of them.