CHAPTER FOUR
Alex slept in fits and starts throughout the night, and around 4:30 she gave up the fight. She showered, packed enough clothes—including her best black suit—to last several days, and started on the way to Carmel Ridge. She phoned her parents first, knowing that her father rose ridiculously early in the morning in spite of his retirement. He was sympathetic. "Let us know when the funeral is, Lexie…Your Mom and I will be there…You take care of that boy…and yourself."
"I will, Dad…And I'll let Bobby know," Alex responded. Her father regarded Bobby as a lost sheep that needed to be brought into the Eames family folds. He was the only member of her family aside from Alex who didn't blame Bobby at least in part for what she suffered at Jo Gage's hands. Various sources informed Alex that one of her older brothers had confronted Bobby in the hospital parking lot one evening of her recovery, and that her father saved her partner from a verbal and possibly physical assault. Her father also saved her brother from a similar attack after Alex learned of his actions.
Following her call to her father, Alex left a message for Ross on his office phone. She felt it was too early to invade her boss' private life via his cell or home phone. These calls made, Alex stopped briefly for fuel for her body and her car and was soon on the road to Carmel Ridge. The traffic grew heavier with the sun's rising, but most of it was headed into the city. Alex had never been to Carmel Ridge, but Bobby had revealed some details about the town and the hospital and his directions from last night were clear and concise. It always took two hours to get there, Bobby wryly told her, no matter how fast or slow he drove, no matter how bad or good the weather, no matter how bad the construction or traffic. The town was fairly isolated. "Mental illness," Bobby said one evening after they had consumed one or two many drinks at a tough case's conclusion. "Is its main source of income." Alex arrived as the small town was just starting to wake up, but traffic was still light on the two lane road that wound through it. She drove easily to the hotel on its outskirts and wondered briefly if she might have to search for Bobby. A quick glance inside the small restaurant standing at the edge of the hotel's parking lot revealed Bobby sitting huddled at a table.
"Well," Alex thought. "At least he's trying to eat."
The restaurant was at the height of breakfast, lively and noisy with waitresses carrying plates, filling coffee cups, and laughing with customers. Bobby sat in a corner booth, his back to the wall, and his location giving him a clear view of the room. He concentrated on the plate in front of him, and Alex was nearly at the booth before Bobby sensed her presence.
"Hey," Alex said hesitantly.
He looked up at her in surprise.
"Hey," he answered her with equal hesitation. His hair was neatly combed, his face shaved, his clothes neat, but he was gaunt and dark circles surrounded his eyes. Very little of the food on his plate appeared to have been touched.
"Please," he said. "Sit down…I'll buy you some coffee…and breakfast if you want." He waved at the waitress. "I can recommend the blueberry pancakes."
Alex realized she was very hungry; coffee was a poor substitute for actual food. "You don't have to," she said as she slipped into the booth across from Bobby. "Buy me breakfast."
He stared at his plate and turned his fork over and over. "It…It's the least I can do…After you drove for two hours."
"This is a first," the waitress said as she appeared to refill Bobby's coffee cup and take Alex's order. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone with you."
"Uh…this…this is my professional partner…Alex Eames," Bobby said shyly. "Eames, this is Martha…" He looked up at the older woman with some embarrassment. "I'm sorry…All the time I've been coming here…I don't know your last name."
"It's all right, honey," Martha said tolerantly. "I only know your first name too."
Bobby's cell phone rang. "Sorry," he said as he checked the number. "I have to take this…"
"The reception's much better outside," Martha said helpfully.
Alex watched Bobby carefully as he stepped outside the diner.
"I'm glad," Martha said after taking Alex's order. "That he has someone here with him."
"You know," Alex asked cautiously. "About his mother?"
"A little," the older woman nodded. "And it took me a few years to learn that. " Her warm, grey eyes were friendly and sympathetic. "I figured out pretty early that he had someone at the hospital. That's why most people who don't live around here come in here." She tipped off Alex's coffee. "But I think it was a year before he mentioned he was coming to visit his mother."
Alex looked guiltily into the depths of her coffee. A wave of jealousy had swept over her when she thought that this relative stranger might know more about Bobby's life than his long time partner.
"He's mentioned you a few times," Martha said. "Look, honey, it's none of my business…But I like that man…He cares a lot about you, and I gather the two of you have had a rough time lately from the little he's said. I'm glad you're here with him."
"I'm glad I can be here with him," Alex said.
"He's a good man. I hope he can find some peace now," Martha said as she and Alex watched Bobby slowly come back into the restaurant. He nodded at Martha as she passed him; he walked as if large weights sat on his shoulders. He sat heavily across from Alex.
"I'm sorry," he said, wiping a large hand across his face. "That was the undertaker. I'm meeting with him later this morning…and I called Ross."
"I left him a message this morning," Alex said.
"That's what he said…Thank you for doing that…He told me to tell you not to worry…to take as much time…" Bobby stared into space. "He…he was very kind."
"Well…Like you said…He's not a bad guy." Alex tentatively touched him on the arm and was grateful that Bobby didn't pull away. "What can I do to help you?"
Martha arrived, bearing Alex's pancakes and a warm smile for Bobby.
"You could start," Bobby said. "By eating breakfast…one of us should have something inside…"
Alex took a bite of the pancakes. "Wow…these are good."
"I…" Bobby twisted a napkin as he spoke. "I need to meet with the undertaker, like I said…and the priest at the local church…There's a funeral Mass tomorrow at ten…" His attention seemed to be on a bland painting of a barn hanging on the opposite wall. "I…I don't expect that anyone will be there…but…but she wanted it…It was one of the few instructions she left." He thoughtlessly ripped the napkin. "And…today…or tomorrow after…I need to pick up her stuff." His voice was flat and dull.
"Have you gotten any sleep?" Alex asked, her breakfast briefly forgotten.
"Yea…a little…last night…thoughts kept buzzing through my head."
"Where is she going to be buried?" Alex asked. He was at least talking to her.
"The Catholic section in the cemetery here," he answered. In spite of the din around them, Alex was aware only of Bobby's words. "She…during some of her better moments…She said this was as much of a hometown as she'd ever had…" His hands found another napkin and began twisting it. "And as far as I know…there's no one in her family…They…they weren't happy when she married my Dad…and then…when she got sick…"
"Your Dad…his side," Alex asked hesitantly.
He smiled bitterly. "My Dad…" His voice dripped with disgust. "When he died…there was barely enough to cover his funeral…He was cremated…and the ashes buried in a cemetery in the city…I'm not sure I could find it again…" He began ripping the second napkin. "I guess that makes me a horrible son." The bitterness faded from his voice. "But he was a pretty horrible father."
Alex swallowed; Bobby had never revealed so much to her. "Your parents' families…there isn't anyone…" Alex came from a large, close family of not only brothers and sisters, but aunts and uncles and cousins who cared and helped each other. She could barely think of someone who had no one.
"Not…not that I know of," Bobby said flatly. "There were times…when I was younger…I tried to find and contact some people…But they didn't want anything to do with me…" The napkin lay in shreds next to his plate. "They were afraid of my Mom…or that my Dad wanted something…or Frank got to them first and took something…" He stared at the napkins' remains. "I just gave up after a while."
Alex tried desperately to think of something to comfort him.
"I'm sorry," Bobby said. "I'm ruining your breakfast."
"For God's sake, Bobby," Alex said gently. "The next few days should be about you."
"I…I just don't want to upset anyone…I just want to get through the next two days," he confessed.
"Like I said, Bobby…what can I do?" She reached for his hand.
"I…I don't know…I'm glad you're here…but I don't know…"
Alex slightly squeezed his hand. "I can call people…let them know what's going on. And I can just go with you in case you need me to get something."
He found another napkin and began twisting it. "You…you're willing to do that?"
"Of course." She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "And if I get in your way, you can even tell me to back off."
He shredded the napkin for a moment. "It…it'd be a big help."
"Ok," Alex said, not quite able to hide her relief. "This hotel a good place to stay?"
He stared at her in amazement. "You're…you're going to stay tonight?"
"Well, it struck me as a better idea than driving back and forth," Alex said calmly.
"Yea…I guess so." Bobby shook his head as if he were trying to dislodge a thought. "The hotel…nothing fancy, but it's fine…but let me pay for your room."
She didn't argue the point. Bobby had already conceded several points to her, and he seemed adamant about this one. And her credit cards were still recovering from the remodeling of her house.
The hotel staff appeared to be as familiar with Bobby as Martha. Alex was placed in a Spartan but clean room next to Bobby. He insisted on carrying her one bag to the room. He stared out the window as she hung her black suit in the closet. She knew that the view, pleasant as it was, was not the subject of his attention.
"Everyone is very nice," Alex said.
He started as if he'd forgotten she was in the room. "Uh…yea…They…they've had a lot of practice. A lot of the families stay here."
Alex turned to face him, and the fear and pain in his eyes pierced her to her core. She couldn't hold his gaze and looked away.
"I…I need to get some things from my room," Bobby said in a choked voice and lurched through the door.
Stunned, Alex stood in near the bed. "I…I failed him," she thought. "He turned to me…and I looked away." She squared her shoulders. "Well, I'm fighting for another chance…I'm not giving up."
She strode to Bobby's room and was about to knock when Bobby flung open the door. He stared at her in surprise; his rain coat was over his right arm and he carried his leather binder in his right.
"Uh…I…" he stammered.
"He's trying to run away," Alex thought. "Be careful…"
"Where you coming to get me?" she asked calmly.
As hurt as he was, he couldn't lie to her even when she gave him a chance. "I…I thought…you might be tired…"
"I thought," she said cautiously. "You wanted me to go with you."
"You…you're sure…"
"Yes."
He retreated. "Ok."
She wasn't used to letting Bobby drive, but he knew the area. There was scarcely a need to drive; the town was so small that a person could easily walk from one end to the other in a half hour or so. The one funeral home was located at roughly equal distance from the cemetery, the Catholic church, and the Methodist church, and Alex suspected it wasn't far away from any smaller, less recognizable religious institutions in the area. The undertaker was quietly professional, calm and efficient. Alex felt slightly awkward as she and Bobby entered the funeral home; it was clear that the undertaker's receptionist misunderstood exactly what sort of "partner" Alex was. Bobby, in spite of his own troubles, quickly read the situation and gently noted that Alex was his professional partner and friend. There were only a few details to be ironed out. The funeral and burial plans were already made and paid for, and Alex briefly wondered if it was Frances Goren in one of her more lucid moments or her son who had made the arrangements. As Bobby dealt with the paperwork, Alex stepped out of the office and checked her phone. There was a message from Ross acknowledging and thanking her for her earlier call and telling her not to worry about contacting him or work, and another from Lewis, also thanking her and telling her he would see her at the funeral.
"Deakins," Alex thought. "Of course…He'll want to know…" Taking a deep breath, she called her former Captain's home number. James Deakins had remained in her life after his forced retirement. He visited her several times in the hospital—her father told her that it was Deakins who'd revealed the identity of her attacker to her family—and Deakins and his wife had visited Alex several times at her home before she was allowed to return to work. Several cups of coffee followed, with the older man listening sympathetically to Alex's frustrations with her new captain and her partner. At several points Alex felt that these conversations were the only things that prevented her from pulling her gun on Ross and Bobby.
Deakins wasn't at home. He'd landed comfortably with a security firm after he left the NYPD, and was returning from a trip. But Angie Deakins was warm and sympathetic. She asked after Alex and Bobby's health and for the details of the services for Bobby's mother.
"We'll be there," she promised Alex. "Jimmy thinks a lot of you and Detective Goren. And I'll let other people know too."
"Thank you," Alex said. "I don't think Bobby believes anyone will come to the funeral…If people could come, I think it might mean a lot to him."
"I'll see what I can do," Angie answered.
Bobby emerged from the undertaker's office as Alex finished the call. He started when he saw her, as if he'd forgotten her existence.
"Everything taken care of?" Alex asked as they walked to the car. She thought that throughout the morning Bobby took one step towards her and two steps back.
"Yea," Bobby said.
The rest of the day continued with Alex feeling disconnected from but needed by Bobby. She accompanied him to the Catholic church—a huge edifice that dominated and appeared out of place in the town—and Bobby again appeared surprised to see he when he left his meeting with the priest.
"Bobby," she said gently.
He jerked to a stop on the church's steps. "I…I'm sorry," he said, not quite able to look at her.
"Remember," she said as they walked to his car. "It's not about me…Think of you."
For a moment, his great, dark sad eyes met hers. Alex steeled herself and fought to not look away. She glimpsed surprise and gratitude before he glanced away.
"What do you need to do now?" she asked.
"This morning…It's gone faster than I expected….Are you hungry?" He opened the car door for her. "The only thing I have left to do is to get my Mom's stuff…"
The car door and years of his defenses hung between them.
"I'm not really hungry," Alex said. She rested her small hand on his large one on the top of the car door. "Whatever you want me to do…"
The cold early spring wind, smelling of rain, blew over and around them. Sunlight flickered over them as clouds flew in and out to block the sun's rays.
"Please," Alex thought. "Please let me help you…Please let me be able to help you."
Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "You're sure…you don't mind…coming with me…"
In spite of her fears and Bobby's pain, Alex felt a small bubble of triumph. "I'm here," she said quietly and firmly. "I want to be here and I want to help you."
He took a long, deep breath. "Ok…Ok…" He spoke to himself as much as he did to Alex. "I…I'd like you to come with me."
End Chapter Four