I Don't Know

Eleven years and eleven months later almost to the day, Captain Alex Eames was on her way back to the city from a seminar when her rental car began to make a squealing sound from under the hood. She scowled. She was within a few hours of being home. Did she dare to go on and risk destroying the rental? She wanted to get home, but the department would be on the hook for the charges if she did. She chose to find a place to stay for the night and call the rental place in the morning.

With a start she realized where she was and what time of year it was. A flash of intense pain stabbed her in the heart. It had been nearly 12 years since Bobbys death. She still remembered the memorial service and that she'd nearly miscarried. Dan Ross had stepped up and did what he could including kicking her butt back to work and keeping her in the loop where the search was concerned.

She managed to go on with her life, but she never again got as close to a partner as she did with Bobby. Her heart just couldn't take it. She was still a good detective and a reliable partner, but it was always from behind a wall of pain and indifference.

She found a small hotel with a room for rent. It wasn't a nationally named inn, but it was not too bad for one night. She took a shower and called home. "Hello."

"Hi, baby. It's Mom. How are you?"

"Hi, Mom. Are you almost home?"

"I can't tonight, Bertie. My rental is making noise so I'm in a hotel for tonight. Can you stand Grandpa for one more night?"

Her 11 year old daughter giggled. "I'm making him macaroni and cheese for dinner. And hot dogs."

"Good for you. I miss you."

"Me, too."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Can I talk to Grandpa?"

"Grandpa, Mom's on the phone." Thunk!

Roberta dropped the phone on the counter when it clattered. John Eames came on the phone. "Hey, Alex. What's up?"

She explained. He sighed when he told her what they were having for dinner, but he would've done anything for his granddaughter and her mother. He was worried about her when she told him where she was. "I'm fine, Dad, really. I'm going to get some sleep and get out of here first thing in the morning. It won't be a problem. I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, Alex."

She hung up, got ready for bed and climbed into bed, but in spite of her best efforts, tears that she hadn't never realized she still contained leaked out and she cried herself to sleep.

The next morning, she was determined to get out of there as soon as she could. She called the rental agency immediately only to be told that she needed to talk to someone who wouldn't be in until 10:00. She should stay where she was or risk having to pay for the car herself. So she went to breakfast.

It was a small diner that served and excellent meal. She finished it and stepped outside. They had a newspaper rack outside the restaurant. She bought a New York Times to catch up on the news and sat outside to wait until ten.

A group of boys were walking along the sidewalk went by. One of them was taller than the others. Something about him was familiar. She passed it off as someone she'd met in New York. One of her daughters friends.

"Hey, Robbie, how about helping me with my math? You're good at it." One of the other said.

"I-I can't tonight. Dad and I are going out for pizza and a movie. It's our night out." The tall boy said. "I-I'll come by over the weekend."

Alex head shot up. That speech pattern. Naw, it couldn't be. It was too much coincidence. It was her imagination and this place. The boys heard a car go by and turned to look at it. She nearly dropped the newspaper. That was Bobbys face, younger, more carefree, it couldn't be. Maybe she was coming down with a fever. In the next instant the look was gone and so were the boys.

She looked around for someone who was from here. She spotted a woman coming out of a doctors office. "Excuse me, do you know a boy around here, extra tall, called Robbie?"

"Robbie? Sure, he's the son of our Sheriff."

"Is his father by any chance named Bobby?"

"No, Mark. Sheriff Mark Collins."

"Oh, sorry to bother you. Thank you."

It was just her imagination. It was 10:00. She called the rental place again only to be told that the person she needed to speak to wasn't going to be in today. No one wanted to help her. She swore and hung up. She needed to get home. She could call her father and have him come get her, but that would leave the rental here for someone else to take care of.

She returned to her room and contemplated what she was going to do. She was sitting on her bed when there was a knock on her door. She opened expecting to see one of the maids wanting to clean the room, or the motel manager.

Standing in her doorway, in uniform stood Bobby. She recognized him immediately. Older, more slender, his hair mostly silver, but very much alive. There was not flash of recognition in his eyes.

"I understand you asked about my son, ma'am. My name is Sheriff Mark Collins. What interest do you have in my son?" he asked coolly.

"Bobby?!" she asked. The room spun as her blood went cold and she headed for the floor.

TBC