Chapter Six
Her mind is not on her work. She stays at her desk for the next few hours. Maybe they missed something, something that will tie Richard to this crime.
If someone were to look over at her, it would seem like she was very busy. However, all she can think about is the look on his face when he left the room, as if someone had squashed his confidence in his ability to do his job.
She has never seen him look so discouraged.
She looks at the clock it is almost 5:30, she decides to leave but she does not go home she needs to be with family, she visits her parents.
As she drives to their neighborhood, her mind jumps from Bobby to Richard to Michelle and that young girl.
Young girl sexually assaulted left for dead. Same neighborhood, same group of kids.
You think they would have learned a lesson.
Her father answers the door."Hey Dad."
"Hey yourself. Come on in."
"You look upset, what's the matter?"
"Same ole, thing, work. Besides, I have been so busy I haven't seen you guys in a couple of weeks so I'd thought I'd drop by. Where's Mom?"
"In the kitchen, we just sat down to dinner."
Alex follows her father into the kitchen, "Hi, honey."
She kisses her Mom, "Hi Mom, how are you feeling."
"Good sweetheart I'm feeling good."
Her father pulls a chair out for her. "Come on sit down,"
"Alex would you like something to eat?"
"No thanks." Alex gets up from her chair. "Any beer in the frig?"
She opens the door and to her relief there is beer. She grabs a beer and looking back at her father. "Dad you want one?"
"No thanks, not now."
She opens the beer and sits back down. She has always enjoyed sitting in the kitchen. It always has a warm and cozy feeling. Years ago the wonderful smell of holiday dinners and baking would feel the house.
Before her stroke, her Mom was an awesome cook. The weakness in her left arm has caused limitations in her movement and she is not able to prepare the same kind of dishes she did when Alex was a kid.
She looks at her parents and sees them differently. They can sit there, content, not speaking to each other. They fit together perfectly.
I want that, I deserve that.
"Alex, you're awfully quite, you ok?"
"I'm alright, I was just thinking."
"About what."
"The two of you. Dad can I take your last beer?"
"Sure, go ahead."
She opens the beer and starts to pick at some of the food on the table.
"How is Bobby doing?"
"He 's alright Mom."
"If he's alright than why are you so upset?"
"What makes you think I'm upset?"
"Because I'm your mother, I know you."
Alex looks to both her Mom and Dad. Tears start to fill her eyes. "Everything is going wrong lately."
Alex is vague about Bobby's behavior the past few days. She only tells them that he is having a little trouble getting back to his normal routine. She does tell them about the recent events concerning the Yardley girl and their suspect Richard. She does admit to them that she feels a little guilty. Her Dad understands that and he does his best to make her feel better. Unfortunately, what is upsetting her most is Bobby and how it affected him.
She does enjoy a meal and lingers for coffee and blueberry pie. Having someone to talk with always helps and Alex starts to feel better.
One Police Plaza
Bobby makes his way to the garage, he gets in his car and lights a cigarette. He sits there for a while. He has no idea as to where he should go. He decides to take a walk. He takes off his jacket and tie and places his gun and badge in the glove compartment.
Unpleasant memories of the past week are filling his mind as he walks aimlessly through the streets of the city.
He passes a restaurant and the aroma of peppers and onion fills the air, it brings him to the present.
He hails a cab. He takes the cab to Brooklyn leaving his car in the city. He has no desire to drive.
As the cabbie drives into his neighborhood, he suddenly tells the driver to pull over. He pays him and exits the cab.
He looks up at the sign over the door "MURPHY"S.
I forgot this place was still here.
The bar has been in the neighborhood for close to forty years. It is sandwiched between two apartment buildings and if you didn't know it was here, you would drive right by.
He enters the bar.
Many memories about this place come back, some good, most forgotten. It looks the same. Hell, it even smells the same. Bobby spent a lot of time in this place during his late teens.
They do not obey the "No Smoking" law in this bar. He sits at the bar and lights a cigarette. He orders a bottle of whiskey, no sense in making the bartender pour him a shot every two minutes.
He is not surprised but a woman looking to be around his age starts making her way over to him. He holds up the bottle and she nods, he gestures to the bartender for a glass.
He pours her a drink.
"Thank you."
"Sure."
"You've never been in here but I've seen you around the neighborhood."
He takes a better look at her. He has always had an eye for remembering faces, even twenty-five years later. "Stacy, Stacy Kelly, you dated a friend of mine. It was our senior year of high school, Dave Fanelli."
"Yes that's right, but I'm Stacy Grayson now. I married Bruce. We divorced over ten years ago." She looks closer at him. She looks in his eyes. "I know you, you're Bobby Goren, oh my god, what the fuck are you doing in here?"
He shrugs his shoulders and finishes his drink.
"Did you and Cathy have a fight?"
Does she know that it's the year 2006?
"Yeah, about twenty five years ago."
He fills up his glass again and lights another cigarette.
"Come on you and Cathleen never got married? I don't believe it."
"No we didn't. How in the hell could you remember that?"
"You two were always together, everybody always thought you guys would get married."
"Yeah well, things didn't quite work out the way we planned. Oh hell."
He finishes off the whiskey in his glass, pours another one for himself and one for her.
"So Bobby you gonna tell me what you're doing here? I mean your shirt cost more than my whole outfit."
He smiles. "I've just had a really bad day to go along with the week from hell, come to think of it, the week isn't over yet, is it? This stool is not very comfortable. Let's sit at a table."
"Ok."
"So what are you doing here?"
"Just a place to go, to spend an evening, I hate being alone in my apartment."
"Have you ever left the neighborhood?"
"No. Bruce and I bought a little house when we got married and I sold it after the divorce."
"When did you just move back?"
"About six years ago."
"What do you do?"
"What?"
"Your job, what do you do for a living?"
He drinks down the whiskey and starts to cough.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah I'm fine."
He never answers her question. He just moves closer to her and kisses her long and hard. She responds to his kiss and she puts her arms around her neck.
He breaks the kiss. "I can't do this." He looks over her not at her.
She gets a disappointed look on her face.
Why not?
He pulls away from her. "This isn't right, I'm sorry."
Jesus a guy who doesn't think with his dick? I don't believe it.
"Don't look at me like that, believe me it's not you."
"I understand. Who is she?"
"She." He shakes his head. "No, there's no one."
Sure.
He stands up and takes her hand. "Thanks for the company. I'm sorry, Stacy." He picks up the whiskey bottle. "Would you like this?"
"No thanks Bobby, it was nice seeing you again, take care of yourself, I hope everything works out for you."
He walks over to the bar and asks the bartender for a bag. He puts the bottle in the bag and leaves him a tip. He leaves the bar and walks the three blocks to his house.
She, I can't believe she said that.
Is it that obvious?
How could she possibly know?
Was she right?
Was that the reason?
All I know is that I can't get her out of my head.
Unfortunately, I know how she thinks of me.
He remembers something Alex had said to a suspect's wife some time ago. In comparing the two men, maybe what she said was true but he didn't like her saying it.
"He's like my partner, he just wants to be left alone to do what he does best, catching bad guys."
Now I can't even do that.
He opens his front door. "It's always so quiet in here. I got to get a dog or something."
He changes into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Walks into the kitchen and suddenly remembers he hasn't eaten all day. He opens the refrigerator. "What the hell am I looking in here for, like food is going to magically appear."
He calls Rocco's Pizzeria.
The pizza is finished. The whiskey is gone and he is asleep.
He overdid it last night and his head and stomach are paying for it in the morning. He takes a shower hoping it will help. It helps a little.
He knows what will really help and since his judgment has been erratic lately, he has a shot of whiskey.
"Hair of the Dog"
"That's better."
He suddenly remembers that he has a flask in the basement. He finds it and fills it up. He puts it in his jacket pocket and makes his way to the garage.
"Where the hell's my car? Oh, shit. It's in the city."
He hails a cab and arrives at the station around ten AM.
TBC