As always, the usual disclaimers apply...

Chapter 8 The Investigation Continues

Goren and Eames were at their desks at MCS early the next day when Detective Mike Logan and his partner, Detective Megan Wheeler walked in.

"Hey, Goren," called out Logan. "I hear ya'll caught the Wainwright case. Pretty high profile stuff. You know who did it yet?"

Eames caught the look of surprise on Goren's face and answered quickly answered, "No, Logan, not yet. You got any leads for us?"

Logan also noticed the surprised look on Goren's face and exchanged a glance with his partner before answering Eames. "No, but you'll be the first to know if we do."

Eames looked across her desk to her partner, and noticed his pale face and stunned expression.

"Bobby? You okay," she asked.

Bobby didn't answer her, but took the case file off her desk and opened it to the first page. He began to read the file again, but very slowly this time, and out loud, as though hearing what he was reading would help him better understand the information. "Victim, Laura Marie Wainwright, nee Edwards, age 24; husband is Adam Jefferson Wainwright, III, "Trey" also age 24. Parents are Leslie and Dennis Edwards. One son, Hudson Edward Wainwright, 15 months. Assistant manager of the Wainwright Public Trust and the Wainwright Gallery……." Bobby's voice trailed off and he stared off into space, his chin resting in his right hand.

Alex watched her partner carefully. He was hard to read when he got like this and right now she was concerned about what he was thinking. Robert Goren was never one to readily share anything about his private life to much of anyone, not even his partner, Alex. She found out more about him from what he told witnesses he was questioning or suspects he was interrogating than from what he voluntarily told her directly. If she was going to get him to talk, she would have to proceed carefully.

"Something wrong, Bobby," she asked softly.

Bobby turned and looked at his partner; the same far-away look in his eyes. "I, I knew a Wainwright once, a, a long time ago. Hearing Logan say that name brought back memories I thought I'd forgotten." He shook his head to clear it and continued, "That's a story for another day. Let's get back to work. I'm curious as to why Laura's parents were at the ME's office today to ID her body and not her husband."

"I was wondering the same thing, too," responded Eames. She stood up and grabbed her purse. "I'm driving."

Bobby rose from his desk and rolled his eyes. Grabbing his binder with the case file in it and pulling on his coat, he followed his partner to the elevator.

Wainwright Home, Upper East Side, Manhattan

As Eames pulled smoothly into a rare available parking spot in front of the majestic looking brownstone, Goren's phone rang. He quickly put it to his ear. "Goren," he snapped.

His brow furrowed as he said, "Yes, this is Detective Robert Goren of the Major Case Squad." He turned toward Eames and shrugged, his eyes curious as he listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line.

Eames watched his expression morph into one of anger, then shock and finally in to resigned frustration as he said, "Okay." He sighed and looked at Eames. "I can be there in 15 minutes. Thank you." He listened a bit longer and then hung up the phone.

"Uh, Eames, I'm sorry. Tha -- that was Manhattan General," Bobby stuttered. "It seems that Frank, well, Frank, um…I have to go. Can you handle this by yourself?" He looked down at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, unable to look her in the eyes.

Eames looked at him with sympathy and understanding in her eyes. "It's ok, Bobby. You go on ahead and take care of Frank. I can handle things here. If you need me, please call."

Bobby looked relieved as he thanked his partner, wondering again what he had done to be hooked up with such a wonderful human being as Alexandra Eames. She never questioned his actions unless it was absolutely necessary, and she understood intimately how important it was for him to take care of his family.

Eames stood on the street in front of the steps to the Wainwright home and watched her partner drive off. "Please let Frank be OK," she prayed quickly, before turning and walking up the steps.

The housekeeper who greeted Detective Eames at the door was very cordial towards her, and invited her in after she introduced herself.

"I'm Mrs. Mitchell, the housekeeper," the woman said. "Oh, it's just downright dreadful what happened to Miss Laura," she said in her soft Southern drawl, as she led Alex into the sitting room. "Miss Amy is just so upset. I don't know if she'll speak to you, but I'll go ask her. You just sit right here and make yourself comfortable while I go fetch her."

Eames smiled at the kindly older woman. "Thank you, Mrs. Mitchell."

The woman who entered the sitting room with Mrs. Mitchell a few minutes later was tall and beautiful. Her raven hair was in a stylish cut and her blue eyes were full of sadness and red from crying, but she managed to smile warmly at Detective Eames and extended her hand in welcome. "Hello, Detective. I'm Amy Wainwright. I understand you wanted to speak with me about my daughter-in-law, Laura?"

"Detective Alexandra Eames, with the Major Case Squad," Eames replied as she stood and returned Amy's handshake. " I was wondering why Laura's parents came down to the Medical Examiner's office this morning to identify her body and not her husband. Is there some sort of marital trouble we should be aware of?"

Amy sat on the sofa opposite the chair Alex had chosen and studied the detective carefully. She liked the no-nonsense demeanor and quiet confidence the petite woman exuded and was thankful that the department had sent one of its best detectives to investigate her daughter-in-law's murder.

"Oh, no, Detective. Nothing like that at all," Amy said easily. "My son is out of the country right now. He's in France doing business for the family's winery. He's coming back this evening. I'll try to answer any questions you may have as best I can."

Alex instantly liked Amy Wainwright and hated that she might have to upset her with the next several questions. As gently as she could, she asked, "Did your daughter-in-law have any enemies that you are aware of? Anyone who might want to kill her or see her dead?"

"No," Amy answered emphatically. "Everyone loved Laura. She was bright, intelligent, incredibly nice and extremely friendly. If anything, she was too friendly. Laura was very compassionate and loving. In addition to her work with the Gallery, she was the driving force behind the Wainwright Public Trust, and my parents were grooming her to take over running the entire trust in the next several years. Dad is ready to retire full time to his Estate up in Utica."

"What about your son, Adam," Eames asked her next. "Would he have any enemies that would want to get to him by hurting Laura?"

At this question, Amy teared up. "I'm sorry, Detective. It's just that my son loves his wife so much, the thought of him having to come home to all this is very upsetting to me." She wiped her eyes, then took a deep breath and composed herself before continuing. "I can't think of anyone off the top of my head that would have it in for Trey in that way. I'm afraid that's one question I can't answer," she said sadly.

"Who filed the missing person's report?" Eames asked.

"I was watching Hudson that morning while Laura went running, and when she didn't come home, I called the police and filed the report," Amy answered. " I couldn't understand why it took so long to make the identification until I spoke with Dennis yesterday. They told him there were several missing person's reports filed for young blonde females; that, and the condition her body was found in…." she began crying once more and took a minute to regain her composure.

"So, you were here Tuesday morning," Eames asked her.

"Yes," Amy responded. "Mrs. Mitchell was off on Tuesday, and the nanny doesn't come until 8. Trey and Laura like to take care of Hudson before they go to work in the mornings."

"What about your husband? Where was he Tuesday morning?"

Amy seemed to bristle slightly at that particular question, but quickly regained her composure and faced Alex head on. "There is no husband, Detective. The only Mr. Wainwrights around here are my son and my father."

Eames said nothing, but continued to look directly at Amy, a technique her partner employed quite successfully to get witnesses and suspects to talk. She was not disappointed, as Amy sighed and continued.

"I decided not to tell the baby's father," Amy went on. "Our situation was very difficult, and being saddled with a wife and a child would have ruined his successful career. My family was understandably disappointed at first, but has been very supportive. My father and grandfather both took it upon themselves to be positive male influences in my son's life. I'm sorry if I sound rude, but I'm very sensitive about that subject."

"I understand; I would be too in your situation. I was the surrogate mother for my sister and her husband, and I know what it's like to have your decisions questioned and even frowned upon by others who think they know what's best for you," Alex gave Amy a small, sympathetic smile.

Eames stood and moved around the sitting room. "You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Wainwright. However, I thought this was Trey and Laura's home?"

"It is. We also own the two homes on either side. The three are connected by a hallway in the back that my grandfather had put in many years ago. My parents live in the one on my right, I live here in the middle, and Trey lives in the one on my left. We all use the same address."

"Would it be possible for me to see where Laura and Trey live? There may be something there that could help in the investigation."

"Of course," said Amy warmly. "I'll do anything you need to help you catch her killer."

As Amy led her out of the sitting room, Alex's eyes landed on a small round table displaying an artful arrangement of beautifully framed photographs. She reached down and picked up one of the photos. "Is this you," she asked, pointing to one of the women in the picture.

"Yes," Amy smiled at the photo. "That was taken in Germany 25 years ago, on my last day of summer vacation. Those are my parents," she pointed at an elegant couple on one end of the smiling group, "and those are three good friends of mine. I've lost touch with those friends in the years since then," she said wistfully.

Alex held the photo up for closer inspection. In the picture, Amy was standing next to a handsome young man who had his arm protectively around her waist, and was obviously her boyfriend at the time. "If I may be so bold, is this Trey's father with you in the picture," Eames asked uncertainly.

Amy was stunned by Alex's boldness, but answered her anyway. "Yes, he is Detective," she answered, stressing the last word so as to politely but firmly remind Eames of her place. She reached out and took the picture from Alex and returned it to its proper place on the table.

"You wanted to see where Trey and Laura lived?" Amy gestured towards the hall and motioned for Eames to precede her.

Well, thought Eames. This IS a touchy subject. I wonder who that is in that picture.