CHAPTER THREE

Sometimes when they question potential suspects, Alex and Bobby notice their quarry goes on the defense immediately. Some are hostile from the start, and others attempt to compensate with false bravado, which they pass with varying degrees of success.

"That's right." The casual tone betrays nothing except confidence. "I made a bet last Saturday at the OTB on Queens Boulevard."

And then there's Ken Harris, the man walking in front of them. I haven't seen him blink this whole time, Bobby silently observes as they follow Harris further into the construction project, and his mannerisms didn't change when Alex mentioned the OTB... Not someone easily rattled...

Hmm... Your bets conform to the program, Alex's gut whispers, and you're pushing yourself higher up on the suspicious scale with every second. Pretending to cut to the chase, she tells him, "We're investigating muggings of OTB customers there."

Again, Harris doesn't change pace, posture or tone. "Well, if I had seen anyone get mugged, you'd be the first people I'd call." Then he turns around, a hint of puzzlement in his face and eyes. "How did you...?"

Figures, Alex's mind smirks as she reminds him, "The tax form you filled out when you collected your winnings." But her mental amusement fades slightly as Harris nods slowly in the middle of her sentence, puzzlement vanishing completely. No trace of Harris looking like he's mentally slapping himself. Not even a simple "oh" moment in his posture. Most people, Alex thinks, would at least have a flash of a Homer Simpson moment, but this guy...

Bobby stops when Alex stops, allowing his body to shift as need be. "That was a real red-letter day for you, wasn't it?" His gaze shifts briefly to Alex, checking her face for her thoughts – he can feel her alarm bells going off even without meeting her eyes – before pressing forward against Harris. "Winning 10,000," he continues with carefully feigned marvel, "on that long-shot bet." Hence, he adds silently, why we're here. And you're giving us more reasons to talk with you...

Harris shrugs, almost imperceptibly as that grin grows slightly. "Yeah, well, I got lucky." His posture and tone say, it's no big deal, as he turns and lifts an arm to check a connection.

His boss did say he acts like he doesn't care about much, Bobby recalls. Harris was moving his jaw in an interesting way a minute ago... I'll wait to mention it. "You know," he mentions without missing a beat, stepping a little closer when Harris starts moving off, "I heard that, uh... people who play the ponies a lot, they have a system for betting."

Alex copies Bobby's movements, modifying as needed, as he speaks. I don't believe you're taking us seriously, Mr. Harris...

Harris gives Bobby a dubious look, casually declaring, "I don't play a lot." With that Harris moves to a set of wooden planks allowing for passage between two main areas.

Alex and Bobby's eyes drift down, seeing stark proof of where the ground is compared to where they are. Alex smirks, reminded of her childhood. What that young girl I was, she thinks, would've given to be up here...

Bobby, meanwhile, grimaces as several army memories brush across his mind. I don't remember the boards being as wide, though...

Just as Harris steps on the boards, he stops, as if remembering he has company. "Sorry," he says, thought it's not clear if he means it. He looks at Alex. "You need a hand?"

Pretending to ignore the offered hand, Alex simply crosses, quipping, "I don't." I've never been afraid of heights. She'd climb the trees along with her brothers, and manage to climb higher because she was lighter than everyone except Shane, her kid brother. Memories cross her mind as she walks across the beam.

Typical Alex, Bobby muses fondly as he suppresses a grin. Independent to the core... Harris doesn't blink at her refusal, which goes directly into Bobby's mental notebook. We don't want him to guess how close we are, Bobby decides. So he "accepts" Harris' offer, letting himself be "guided" across the beam. "Thanks," he breathes in a nervous laugh, covering his amusement. "My partner's the mountain goat. I have a little problem with heights." Not as much as I'm letting you think, Bobby silently adds when Harris chuckles at his discomfort, but it's there.

Problem with heights... Alex eyes Bobby thoughtfully before she continues following Harris. I think you're exaggerating, Bobby... She files that away as something else to ask him about later. More pressing is why Harris isn't at all perturbed about being questioned about the bet.

Yet another question coming later, Bobby discerns when a glance shows Alex's suppressed curiosity. At least this one has no really unpleasant memories attached... Aiming to catch Harris' attention, Bobby queries, "How about you?"

Harris shrugs. "Ah, my mother's father was a Mohawk." Stopping, he turns around, his smile now showing a hint of fond memory. "He used to tell stories about working high steel. It sounded like fun."

Like it's no big deal, Alex translates. She nods slightly, speaking with practiced casual curiosity. "So you became an engineer?" The question is for show; we're carefully fishing for information. "Where'd you get your degree?"

"Hudson. Two years ago." Completely matter-of-fact, yet a hint of pride.

Hudson... Monroe's pedigree... Bobby shifts his weight, putting his act into higher gear as his brain puts more of the pieces together. "What's that frat for engineers? Engineers, mathematicians..." He already knows the answer from previous cases, but he wants to how Harris reacts.

Harris doesn't disappoint. "Alpha Beta Pi." The words come out on another grin, taking pride in his past.

Same tone, Bobby notes, but a little more emotion... "That's the one," Bobby confirms. "You a brother?"

Without missing a beat, Harris answers, "I joined for the keggers," The smile remains firmly in place as he moves further into the project, crossing around an angled bar. "Watch your step," he comments as he grabs the bar for smoother movement. He grunts after crossing, casually adding, "Just don't look down."

You're inviting us to do just that, Alex's mind sorts. She moves around the bar effortlessly, wiping her hands against each other to get rid of some dirt from the bar as she walks away.

Unknowingly having the same thought as his partner, Bobby releases a nervous laugh as he responds, taking hold on the bar, "Yeah. Easy for you to say." He briefly pauses at the bar, pretending to gather his balance by leaning forward. "You know, I-I can't..." He straightens, and starts moving to catch up. "I just can't stop thinking about that long-shot bet, Ken." The suspect's face is the same as ever. Does anything, Bobby wonders, bother this man...? Will he even react to being accused of wrong-doing...? "Walking in off the street," he continues pointedly, taking a moment to throughly eyeball Harris as he stops at Alex's side, "hitting a 16-to-1 long shot?"

Harris lightly laughs and smiles, but it's not one that would make anyone easy. "Ah. You're right," he acknowledges, pointing a finger briefly in Bobby's direction. "Last week I heard one of the subs talking, he knew a guy who knew a guy, so, uh, I bet the horse."

Still like it's no big deal... Alex's imagination is kicking into overdrive, attempting for any explanation for this behavior. And conveniently forgetting to mention that you made other bets...

Nodding slightly in response to Harris, Bobby considers what he saw earliar. As good a time as any, Bobby decides, to mention it. Pretending he just remembered, he uses his hand to emphasize his words as he asks, "Is there something wrong with your jaw? I-I-I saw you working it." He jerks his hand behind them to emphasize.

Harris' eyes widen slightly, but he still doesn't blink. His hands raise, barely, as he "I-I popped an eardrum cave diving off Maui last year."

Good lord... Alex's insides shudder. "Cave diving? Not in a million years. One wrong move and you're fish bait." Harris doesn't react, which puts him higher on her alert status than before. Did you even think of that, Mr. Harris...?

Bobby eyes their suspect's face. "Well," he observes casually, "that's the attraction, isn't it, Ken?" Risk-taking... He could turn on someone effortlessly... If he's not our killer, he had Penny killed.

Harris barely shrugs. "You just have to keep your cool."

Keep your cool... What does it take to get you riled, Alex's gut wonders, to react with real emotion?

Bobby senses Alex's intense stare focused on Harris, and keeps his own reduced. Make sure he thinks I'm stupid... "Ah," he opines, moving his head side to side, "testing yourself. That's why you're... you're up here instead of in the office with the real engineers," he finishes with the laugh he reserves for suspects who don't react much. This man has the lowest reactivity of anyone I've ever dealt with, Bobby thinks. Does he react at all to stress or fear stimuli? An idea crosses his mind, as if responding to his thoughts. Should I test him...?

Harris chuckles, "Well, I like being in the arena, making things happen." He moves to walk around another beam.

Just when I thought, Alex thinks in disgust, I'd seen all the idiocies the human mind could sink to...

Nodding to himself, Bobby decides, Yes, it's worth doing. "Thinking on your feet,." He speculates, raising his voice as he follows. "Otherwise, otherwise," he comments, waiting for Harris to look at him, "what, you–you get restless -" At the moment Harris looks, Bobby deliberately steps on an uneven board, pushing himself precariously close to falling off the building. He flails his arms, knowing he won't have much time to act if Harris isn't quick enough...

Horrible deja vu overtakes Alex. She feels her insides turn to ice, her heartbeat cease. Her throat can't form the sound, No...!

But Harris rushes the short distance, hat dropping off from the sharp turn, and grabs Bobby away from the edge. Using Harris' help, Bobby rights himself within seconds, grabbing Harris' arms with one of his and clamping his other hand onto the beam. Half a foot separates their faces, and Bobby stares at Harris, seeing little change aside from a lack of the humor from before.

The instant she sees Bobby securely away from the ledge, with a firm grip on the beam, Alex's blood floods through her body again. Her pulse sounds like lots of synchronized car horns. Thank you, God, her mind pants. I don't know how... I'd handle losing another love...

"You see, I see now." Bobby's voice is tinged with realization. He lets go of Harris – whose own hands relax away – and points a finger to aid his thoughts. "You have a reduced startle response."

Then Alex notices the interaction, barely hears the last sentence over her pounding heart. What...? You nearly fell off, and you're talking – casually, no less! - about this guy's startle response?!

Not looking away from Harris except to look at his own hands as he places both on the beam, Bobby has no sense of Alex's reaction. His complete attention is on this discovery. "I mean, most people when they, uh..." He pauses, partly faking collecting himself as he glances back behind him. "...almost take a header off a... off a building, you, they..." Another pause, the back's of one hand's fingers lightly on his chest for emphasis. "...for me, example..." He chuckles, feigning embarrassment to keep Harris from realizing what he's up against. "...they get scared. And their eyes open wide. They-they blink big."

He gets a small nod from Harris. Like that's all the man will give anyone.

Alex can't even see Harris' reaction. Her senses have blinded her to nearly everything else around her, eyes fixated on Bobby. A tiny part of her is listening for people approaching, but she's not aware of it. Why, her mind snaps at him, aren't you more disturbed by what just happened?!

Bobby presses on, eyes still focused on Harris. "It's called an increase in blink magnitude. But you, not you." You still haven't blinked, Bobby notes as he waits for any change. "Nothing would bother you a bit," he observes.

Harris doesn't even shrug. His voice is still matter-of-fact. "You panic... you die."

True, but you're taking it to an extreme, Bobby thinks. "Yeah," he sighs, looking down briefly before taking one last look at the perp. This, Bobby's gut tells him, is our guy. A man like him could easily sneak into our building...

You... you faked that slip... Fright starts giving way to anger, enabling Alex to finally get her breathing under control – although her heart's still slamming against her ears – and regain movement in her limbs. You faked, her mind screams at her partner, it! Damn you, Bobby! Didn't I tell you I don't want to break in another partner?!

But Bobby is oblivious, his mind gathering his various observations on their now prime suspect in Penny Chai's murder into a coherent picture. One he'll explain when they're in the SUV, where no one could hear them. "We'll leave you," he says to Harris, "to your... testing. Thanks for talking with us."

Harris barely nods. "Watch your step," he cautions with a grin, walking away.

Watching the suspect leave so she can remain silent, Alex contemplates her options. It's inappropriate to take Bobby to task here, and I might lose my cool when I do. Guess I have, she reluctantly acknowledges, to wait a bit...

Both are silent the whole walk down. With all the workers nearby, both know from experience that talking in public about any aspect of a conversation with a suspect could allow someone to learn something they'd rather no one know about. Until they want someone to know it...

When they exit the construction zone, it finally occurs to Bobby that Alex is being too silent. She's not looking in my direction at all... Just staring straight ahead, hands in her pockets... He knows that a silent Alex is an angry Alex. Oh, no, his mind gasps, oh, no... What's happened...? Bobby's body – ever since about two years ago – turns clammy and jittery whenever she gets this silent around him. Even when it's obvious he's not the target of the anger.

He's still racking his brain when they reach the SUV, trying to find an explanation. Why, he ponders, would she react like that? Harris wouldn't trigger that response, but-

The answer dawns on him while they get in. My trick, he realizes. Alex didn't know I was faking... She believed I was falling...

I thought I was gonna see you blown up... Those were her words about the Veteran's Day close call, words she said twelve days ago. Bobby flinches as the full weight of how she might – no, would – feel about his actions crashes on him. There's... There has to be a way, whispers the part of Bobby that drove him after Alex that fateful day, to make it right... He waits for both doors to close, and takes a deep breath. Must stay calm, to explain... He turns and sees her buckling in, yet staring straight out the front window. "Alex," he whispers, seeking her attention with voice and eyes.

Wondered when you'd notice, Alex's mind growls. Remaining silent, she slowly, deliberately reaches for her keys. I'm not sure, the silent growling continues, that I'm capable of speaking without yanking your tie...

No answer... No acknowledgment.. Hands trembling on his binder, Bobby swallows hard. My blood's going cold... Come on, brain... Find the the words to sooth her... "I-I..." God, please help me stop my stammer... "I hadn't really l-lost my balance." And Harris was there in a second, pulling me back... He holds that part back; it's not going to help him persuade her.

Hadn't, huh? It sure looked like it, Alex's gut yells as she pulls out the keys forcefully. You expect that to comfort me?

Silence on her end, save for controlled breathing and the jangling keys. Oh, no... An Alex this silent is a furious Alex... "I... I'm sorry," he whispers, "that I didn't think more."

Of course you didn't, she silently shouts, you reckless man! You don't think about your own safety, do you? Or that there might be people – other than your mom – who actually care about what happens to you? Inserting the key but not starting the engine, Alex slowly turns her withering scowl on him.

Her eyes bore through Bobby, drawing a gulp from his throat. Oh, no... He quietly chokes, "Alex-"

"Don't," she grates, restraining her voice to just above a whisper and her tone to mostly calm. "I don't want to hear your justification."

Each word stabs Bobby in the chest, almost pushing him deeper into the seat back. Oh, no... Oh, no... I've pissed her off...

Alex slowly notices her jaw is clenching, bringing aches to her teeth. But I don't care, she decides harshly. "I told you twice that I don't want to break in another partner," she reminds him, still in the same tone. "You know that I've lost a husband to the job. Yet you still did that... idiotic stunt!"

His binder starts slipping from his fingers, but Bobby doesn't notice. A-Alex, his mind mumbles, please-

"What do I have to do," she growls, pointing a finger at his skull, "to drill it into your thick head that I don't want – for an instant – to feel like I'm going to lose you?!"

Bobby's silent, even in his mind; there's no sense of action inside the skull. His throat can't move, and he can't feel himself breathing.

"Think about that, Robert." What clearer way, she feels, to communicate than to use his legal name? "I want an answer," she snaps, her voice becoming quieter and deadliar, "later tonight; I won't go through that again! But if you're going to do those stunts without any thought of my feelings,..." She trails off, not sure what she'll do, but not willing to cut him any slack. So she whips her eyes to the road, starting the engine.

Brain barely able to recover the thought process, Bobby numbly fastens his seatbelt. His mind can't go back to the case; her words have triggered all-too familiar feelings. Have I driven her away...? Is she going to leave...?

Even once he can think about the case again, he knows half of his brain will be scrambling for ways to make it up to her, to answer her demands. Even if I can find answers, Bobby despairs as his body turns to lead, I have surely ruined the best thing that's ever happened to me... His head hangs, eyes close as he feels the universe pile on top of him once again...