I so apologize for the delay in posting. Crazy busy at work and getting ready for the holidays. Thanks for hanging in with this story. Chapter 12. As promised, we get to have a little more fun. There's an Eames family wedding, and that family sure knows how to celebrate! Therapy continues, and another case. But our heroes are their usual stellar selves, so the case will be cleared in record time. Haven't forgotten about that evil Jo, either. I still don't own them, just borrowing.
"What a week," Alex groaned as she crawled into bed next to Bobby Sunday night.
"I know," he sighed as he snuggled her to his chest. His fingers played in her hair, fluttered over shoulder, down her arm.
She tilted her head up slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"What?" he gave her his best little boy grin as he cupped her butt.
She took his face in her hands, "Haven't had much of a chance for this lately."
"If you're too tired..." he breathed, his tongue caressing her lips lightly.
She ran her hand inside his briefs, "I think I can summon enough strength for a quickie."
His eyes closed as she squeezed, stroked... "Oh, that's...nice," he whispered hoarsely.
"Just nice?" she ran the tip of her tongue in his ear.
"Um, how about..sexy?" he pushed up the silky nightshirt she was wearing, and began rolling a nipple between his fingertips.
Her breath hissed from between her lips, his touch making her lose focus,
"Steamy."
"Titillating," He cupped her breast, then tickled her ribcage.
She resumed stroking him, feeling him rise against her hand, "Sensual."
"Erotic," he countered, his voice hoarse.
"Salacious," she giggled, speeding up her caresses.
His hips shifted, "Seductive." Bobby slid his hand between her legs.
"Oh, yeah," she mewled.
"Ready to concede defeat?" he stroked purposefully.
She was panting, "Um, uh...libidinous."
"That's...pretty good," he acknowledged, rolling on top of her.
"Your turn," she bucked against him.
He worried the little pearl between her legs, "Lustful."
Alex let herself go over the edge, gripping his shoulders convulsively, "Can't..think...oh, God!"
Bobby entered her, rational thought deserting him as he thrust into her over and over.
As they lay tangled in each others arms, Alex murmured, "Shoulda known."
"Known what?" he yawned.
"When it comes to word games, don't mess with the master," she chuckled sleepily.
Alex and Bobby began Monday with yet another fresh murder. The deceased was an Iraqi national, so there was jurisdictional squabbling with Homeland security.
"For Chrissakes, could they just let us work a case without the political bullshit?" Bobby groaned.
"Looks more like a lovers quarrel than a terrorist plot," Alex nodded.
The kitchen was littered with broken dishes and glassware, the living room had cushions flung to the floor. The victim, Ali Jassim Mohammed, was sprawled in the hallway between the bedroom and master bath, a noticeable dent near his temple. He was clad in boxers and an NYU t shirt. The heavy square crystal vase on the carpet was blood-streaked, the presumptive murder weapon.
"No wedding ring," Bobby observed. "Defensive wounds on the hands and forearms."
"Lots of Armani suits, Hermes ties...and some lovely Nyle Brite creations in the closet," Alex observed. She opened the dressers. "Lingerie from La Petite Coquette, and our vic has a very neat sock drawer." She touched a silver framed photo, in which the victim was embracing a woman of middle Eastern descent. "I'm guessing this is the owner of this stuff."
The interview with Mohammed's boss gleaned them a considerable amount of background.
"Ali was a great guy, one of our best sales producers," Benton Kaplan shook his head.
"How long has he worked here?" Bobby inquired.
"Ten years, came to us right out of NYU," he said.
"What about his personal life?" Alex wondered.
"Ali grew up in Iraq, but he was pretty Americanized after attending college here. Even wanted to become a US citizen. He...liked the ladies, the blonder the better," Benton admitted ruefully.
"So who is this?" Alex held out the picture of the woman from the crime scene.
"She's his fiancee," the boss replied. "They...they were to be married next year."
"Not particularly blonde," Bobby observed.
"He...it was an arranged marriage, from what he told me. Ali...is an only child. His parents are elderly, and very traditional," he explained.
"Ever meet this fiancee?" Alex inquired.
"Uh, no, she lives in London," Mr Kaplan shook his head.
"We need access to his work space," Bobby said.
The contents of Ali's desk yielded the name of his fiancee, Amira Naseri, along with her contact information. They took possession of his work laptop, as well as sundry personal effects.
On the way back to the office, they discussed the probabilities of the motive being personal.
"I vote for one of the blondes in his life," Alex mused.
"Or a jealous husband," Bobby agreed.
"The fiancee could have found out his...predilection for other women. Flew over here...called him on it," she ruminated.
"Pretty obvious that the things in his apartment...didn't belong to his fiancee," he said.
"So, we look for a blonde live-in girlfriend," she concluded.
"Maybe not a live in, but certainly one who spent a chunk of time there," Bobby said. "We can dump his phones and scan his contacts."
Over pizza in the conference room, they got the murder board going and bounced theories off each other and the captain.
"You got a shitload of suspects," Joe commented. "I vote for the jealous girlfriend theory."
"What, you don't want to send us to London to interview the fiancee?" Bobby said, half in jest.
"Right, the chief of D's would love that," the captain chuckled.
"I've never been there, might be fun," Alex said slyly.
"It's great city," Bobby reached for another slice.
"Enough of that," Hannah scolded. "My two best detectives on a sightseeing tour."
"It'd just be work," Bobby was earnest, despite the twinkle in his eye.
"Not gonna happen at this point," the captain shook his head. "Your murderer is likely right here in the city."
"Tell the feds that," Alex said dryly. The remainder of her thought was interrupted by a beep on her phone. She looked at the text message and rolled her eyes.
"What?" Bobby inquired.
"Bridezilla at it again," she sighed. "Dress fitting tomorrow after work, and various other reminders."
Hannah quirked an eyebrow.
"My niece Ashley is getting married on the first, and I'm a bridesmaid," she said in explanation. "Combine stressed-out college student, pregnant and a bride to be, and this sweet little girl turns into..."
"Bridezilla," Hannah chuckled. "Good luck with that," he left the room.
"What else did she say?" Bobby asked, offering her another slice of pizza.
She shook her head at the offer of more food, "Not if I have to fit in that dress. She wants to know if we want a room at the hotel the night of the wedding."
"I think we should. That way we don't have to worry about how much we-um-celebrate," Bobby chuckled.
Alex texted Ashley back, then returned her attention to the case at hand.
From the phone dumps, the detectives were able to track down three women that Ali was juggling relationships with. Of the three, two had solid alibis for the time of the murder. The third, January Davis, they tracked down at her job in an upscale menswear shop.
"Ali's dead?" her blue eyes flooded with tears and she sobbed in evident distress.
"But we were just together...it can't be!"
"Ms Davis, maybe we could take this somewhere with a little more privacy?" Bobby asked solicitously.
"Um, yeah, if you think that would be best," she looked up at him and fluttered her lashes.
Alex rolled her eyes behind the woman's back as they made their way back to the manager's office. Secure as she was in Bobby's love, women like January irritated her.
She took over the questioning after they settled into comfortable leather chairs.
"How long have you been seeing Ali?"Alex kept her tone kind.
"Um, six months? We met here, when he came in to get fitted for new suits," January sniffed into a tissue. "He was so sweet. Ali took me to the best places, dinner, dancing, even to the Caribbean for several weekends. And the clothes..." she closed her eyes and let out a blissful sigh. "Nyle Brite was like, my favorite designer. And he bought me lingerie, shoes, jewelery...really, he was my best daddy."
"Uh, daddy?" Bobby asked.
"Oh, you know, sugar daddy," she purred.
"So, your relationship wasn't...it was based on money?" he clarified.
"Not money, detective. I'm just really being into being taken care of. And Ali was so very generous," Ms Davis was blithe.
"And what did you bring to the party?" Alex asked sarcastically.
The blonde looked confused, "What do you mean?"
"Were you having sex with him?" the detective asked.
"Yes," January sighed.
"So it was a business deal, you give him your body and he pays you with...stuff," Alex said.
"You make it sound so cold," she pouted.
"So did you have any feelings at all for Ali?" she asked.
"Of course I did, I'm not heartless," she was indignant. "And you're mean." She turned her attention to Bobby. "I'd much rather answer your questions."
"Detective Eames is not mean, she just has a job to do," Bobby's tone was patient, like he was talking to a child. "So, uh, where were you last night until this morning?"
"I was home, with Stogie," she said. "You can ask him."
"And who's Stogie?" Bobby scribbled in his binder.
"He's my other daddy," she explained.
Other daddy Alex mouthed to him in disbelief.
"How-uh-many daddies do you have?" Bobby asked.
"Three," January said firmly. "Any more than that is just too hard to juggle with my husband."
"Husband? You're married?" Alex was incredulous.
"Yes, he's in Afghanistan right now, serving our country," January said proudly.
"And he-he knows about your...daddies?" Bobby asked.
"Well, kind of," she demurred. "He thinks I'm a personal stylist."
"Personal stylist," he repeated. "So he doesn't know about the...arrangement you have with these men."
"No, it would just hurt his feelings so much," she shook her head. "I love him like crazy."
"But you cheat on him with other men while he's putting himself in harm's way?" Alex couldn't help herself.
"It's not cheating, I just like pretty things, and I'm earning them," she said firmly. "Besides, we're saving money to buy a nice house. I have to work, because the military doesn't pay nearly enough."
"So, when was your husband's last time at home?" Bobby wondered.
"He was home in June," she explained. "For two weeks. It worked out just great 'cause Ali was in London seeing his fiancee, and my other daddies were taking their wives on vaca." She paused to think. "You don't think my George killed Ali? Never! He would never!"
The detectives exchanged a glance, thinking the same thought: forget about their vic, why wasn't this woman dead?
"I guess it would make it difficult to make it home for that," Bobby admitted.
"It would be impossible," she sighed dramatically. "So, now that Ali's dead, I'm short a daddy. I don't s'pose...you'd be interested?" she smiled.
"Me?" he was incredulous. "Uh, no, I don't think so."
"Too bad," she sighed.
Forget one of the wives killing this woman, Alex thought. I'll do it. For free.
They left the shop with the contact info on both of January's other daddies. Once in the SUV, Bobby laughed at her expression. "What's wrong, honey?"
"It's a wonder we didn't find her body in that apartment," she fumed.
"But she did give us a whole new set of leads to follow," he pretended to be grateful.
She shot him a dirty look as she put the vehicle in gear, "I was about to tell her that NYPD daddies don't make the kind of money required to support her lifestyle."
"Well, maybe she wasn't looking at it from the money angle," he surmised. "Maybe she was looking for...experience."
"Experience," Alex snorted. "She was about to experience my boot in her ass."
Bobby couldn't help it, he burst out laughing, and she joined in.
They weeded through witness interviews, security video, financial records, and forensics. Rodgers confirmed cause of death as blunt force trauma. No drugs or other substances were found in toxicology. Trace DNA showed the presence of five women in the apartment, but only one source on the body itself. Vaginal secretions on the decedent's penis proved that one of those women had had sex with him in the hours before the murder.
Alex groaned as they were finishing up Tuesday afternoon, "This keeps getting weirder and weirder."
"Everybody we talk to gives us two or three more suspects," Bobby agreed. "Dinner later?"
"Depends," she shut her laptop down. "On how the dress fits."
"Oh, come on, you look fine," he laughed softly.
"We'll see," Alex sighed.
As it turned out, the dress was a perfect fit. The only alteration was in the hem; the dress was too long. "The curse of being the shortest in the wedding party," she griped to Ashley.
"At least you don't have to worry about a ballooning belly," the bride to be lamented. "I sure hope this kid doesn't grow too much in the next couple weeks."
"You'll be fine, dear," the alterations lady soothed. "We're experts at this."
Alex texted Bobby as she left the bridal shop, "Going to have dinner with Ash
and Liz. K?"
He texted back, "Still ass deep in wit statements. TTYL?"
"Don't work too hard," she replied.
It was approaching nine thirty before she got back to Forest Hills. She reached for the phone as she crawled into bed.
Bobby picked up on the first ring, "Have fun?"
"I did," she yawned. "You'd better not still be at work."
"I'm not, I swear," he chuckled, turning the key in the lock.
"Uh huh, just getting home," she scolded.
"Guilty," Bobby flipped through the mail, sorting junk mail from bills.
"Did you solve our case?" she asked.
"Nope, but whittled our list of suspects a little, The fiancee is still in London, no evidence of a trip across the pond," he replied. "And Daniels told me that Jo is still hospitalized."
"Great," her tone was frosty.
"Apparently she spiked a fever and they transferred her back to intensive care." he explained. "Falacci thinks she's faking."
"So do I," Alex said.
"Maybe. Daniels said the staff on the step-down unit refused to take care of her, too scared," he rubbed his hand over the shadow of beard.
"Can you blame them?" she countered.
"No, can't say's I do," he walked into the bedroom and pulled the covers back on the bed. "So, where are we staying the weekend of the wedding?"
"The Marriott near the church. I called them with the credit card number tonight," she said.
"I'd have paid for it," he protested mildly.
"Hey, you provided us with a fabulous Labor day weekend. And this is a partnership," she reminded him. "Don't go all caveman on me."
"I won't," he got into bed. "Bed's cold without you," he complained.
"Same here," she smiled in the dark.
"How about dinner and a movie tomorrow night?" he invited.
"Um hmm," she yawned. "Love you."
"Love you, too." he let the stresses of the day go.
After another frustrating day on the Mohammed murder, they dined on Italian at Il Buco. Bobby chose the movie that night, a thriller that kept them on the edge of their seats.
"Wow, I'm glad you're coming home with me tonight," she laughed as Bobby drove towards Forest Hills.
"Afraid the movie will give you nightmares?" he teased tenderly.
"No, but if we see any guys in full camouflage cross our path, be warned I shoot first and ask questions later," she joked.
Bobby set the timer on the coffee pot while Alex checked her messages. He headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth and take care of necessities. Clad in plaid pajama bottoms, he hung his suit in Alex's closet. It felt good, he decided, seeing his clothes mixed in with hers. She'd cleared out a couple dresser drawers for him, and his toiletries mixed with hers in the bathroom medicine cabinet. He'd made similar accommodations for Alex at his place. He couldn't remember when (if ever) he'd done that for a woman he was involved with.
Alex came into the bedroom to find him under the covers, his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, evidently in deep thought.
"Hey, where are you?" she pressed a kiss on his ear.
"Huh? Oh, I was just thinking," he said, drawing her into his arms.
"Care to share?" she snuggled close to him.
"I was thinking about sharing, as a matter of fact. Like that you've made room for me here," he indicated with a sweep of his hand.
"You've done the same for me," she smiled. "I swear, half of my wardrobe is in Brooklyn."
"I know," he shifted and ran his hand beneath the pale green silk. "My favorite," he said, in aside.
"Is it too much for you, too soon?" she was concerned, putting her hand over his.
"No, not at all," he assured her, massaging her hip and lower back. "It's new to me, though."
"Really? I wouldn't have guessed," she felt her breath hitch as his caresses moved to her front, cupping her breasts, rubbing her belly.
"I've never been married, always lived alone," he nibbled at her throat.
"But you haven't been a monk," she laughed softly.
"True," he tasted the inner surfaces of her mouth. "But I don't think my... relationships...have risen to this level of intimacy."
"Speaking of rising," she breathed, untying the drawstring of his pajamas and reaching inside.
"Alex," he groaned. "Love that."
"Consider it...payment for dinner and a movie," she chuckled.
"Don't even think of comparing yourself to that..." his breath quickened.
"What?" she squeezed.
"No work talk, we...agreed," he gasped.
"Okay," she rose over him, then settled him inside her. "Better?"
"Yeah, baby...great..." Bobby closed his eyes and let the sensations flood him.
Alex moved, her rhythm increasing as she drove towards release.
Thursday began with a conference in the Mohammed case. The chief of D's, the captain, and the feds were in attendance, all demanding answers in the still-new case.
They returned to their desks, frustrated with the political rhetoric driving the higher ups. "Let us do our jobs, for Chrissakes," Bobby muttered.
"And I have to miss lunch, besides," Alex remembered she had a session with Olivet.
The therapist was pleased that Alex was keeping her appointments. "How was your week?"
"Good, no nightmares," she replied, settling in.
"Have you had a chance to talk with your partner about your anxieties about restraint?" she probed.
"No, but since I haven't had any more problems, don't think I want to worry him," Alex shook her head.
"But you agree it would be better to discuss it when you're not in the heat of the moment," Elizabeth stated.
"Probably," she acknowledged. "I just don't really want to rock the boat. Things are so good right now."
"Any further contact with your attacker?" she asked.
"No, we turned the case over to Daniels and Falacci," Alex said, but her expression was troubled.
"But?" she asked.
"Bobby keeps tabs on her through the other team," Alex sighed. "And I guess I understand that, he has known her a long time, feels some responsibility for her since her father..." she spat the word.
"Do you see her as a threat?" the doctor asked.
"You mean emotionally or physically?" Alex huffed. "I know Bobby and I are...on solid ground. My insecurity...is really mine. I love him for his ability to empathize with people, even though some of them don't deserve it. As far as physically, yes, I do still worry about her. She's in a hospital, not prison. The security issues...if she really did murder that nurse, what would stop her from finding a way to escape custody?"
"And you've talked to him about it?" Olivet wondered.
"Not specifically, although I think...we're on the same page. Part of his checking on her status is so I won't have to," Alex mused.
"You say you and Bobby are on solid ground. Can you give me an example?"
the doctor asked.
"Last night...we talked about commitment. Leaving stuff at each other's apartments, letting someone share our physical space. I've been a widow a long time, and he's never been married. It's a big step, for both of us," she admitted.
"So you're living together?" she inquired.
"No. We spend most of our time together, but...we don't want to give up our identities. And there's the issue of the job. NYPD still frowns on fraternization, even though there's no 'official' rule," she said.
"What would happen if there were sanctions on the relationship?" Olivet wanted to know.
"I'd choose him, of course. But we fought so hard to get back to Major Case...and we're getting to the age where...financially, it wouldn't be smart to keep poking the brass in the eye," Alex snarked.
Bobby's session with Dr Gyson on Sunday ran on parallel lines. Commitment, co habitation, and the department. He, too, expressed concern over Alex's physical safety.
Alex spent the morning with her dad, cleaning the apartment, and fielding Johnny's not-so-subtle questions about her relationship with Bobby.
"I hardly see you anymore," he protested.
"Well, you know how it is...work is crazy right now," she poured him a cup of coffee, and one for herself.
"I read the papers," he said sarcastically. "Bobby knows he's welcome here."
"Yes, he knows," she stirred a healthy amount of sugar in her cup. "He has a standing appointment on Sundays."
"Still seeing the shrink," Johnny nodded.
"Dad!" she protested.
"You know I got contacts in the department. And I don't think any less of him, as long as he treats my little girl right," he poured a few fingers of scotch into his cup.
"I'm a grownup, remember? Not a little girl," she sighed.
Monday morning began with Hannah calling Bobby and Alex into his office. "Wonder what we did now," Alex muttered under her breath.
The captain motioned to them to take a seat, "I got a call from the Richman boy's family last week. They wanted to express their appreciation for the hard work you did."
"We haven't gotten a conviction yet," Bobby sighed.
"But you got the perps behind bars," Joe reminded him. "The family is sorting out the estate, but they wanted to establish a fund that would benefit the NYPD. To that end they have endowed an education fund so that our officers would have a chance to keep current with law enforcement trends. The only stipulation is that you be the first two to benefit."
"Wow, that's...that's very kind of them," Alex spoke first.
"Yeah," Bobby agreed.
"There's a conference in November that I think would be of interest to you both," he handed them a couple of brochures.
"Cyber crime, profiling, human trafficking, forensic advances..." Bobby looked up sharply. "It's in San Diego."
"I'm willing to give the time off if you want to go," the captain grinned.
"San Diego...I've never been there," Alex offered.
"It's been a lot of years since I have," Bobby said.
"So, is that a yes?" Hannah pressed.
"Uh, what about our case load?" Alex inquired.
"You've got six weeks to clear your desks," he replied, grinning.
"We do appreciate it, Joe," Bobby began.
Their boss waved a hand, "But nothing. Look, I know how slammed you've been since you came back to Major Case. The last thing I want is for you to burn out. You can take that week off, consider it a working vacation."
Bobby and Alex exchanged a glance, keeping their expressions neutral.
"So, say thank you and get your butts back to work," Joe laughed.
"Thanks, Joe," Bobby said, rising.
"Thanks, boss," Alex echoed, following Bobby out of the office.
They sat across from each other, still incredulous.
"We need airline reservations, hotel...get the conference registrations faxed," Alex planned aloud.
"A week away," he lowered his voice. "Away from here, away from...this."
"Uh, huh," she grinned. "Just the two of us," she added in a whisper.
Any answer Bobby was considering was interrupted by his phone ringing, "Goren." A pause, then, "You're shitting me. No, we have her address. Thanks, Ira." he hung up and asked, "Want to go bust a certain blonde gold digger?"
"Really?" Alex asked gleefully, grabbing her bag.
"Ira found a number of very angry emails between our vic and Ms. Davis. She threatened him with breach of promise if he didn't keep her 'in the style she was accustomed,'" they hurried to the elevator.
"Can't arrest her for that," she said regretfully.
"But we can bust her chops," he replied. "Would you like to play bad cop?"
"Since I'm the mean one," she laughed.
They found their suspect in a lavish apartment in Park Slope.
"Detectives, I-uh, I'm a little busy right now," January said distractedly, looking over her shoulder.
A male voice inquired, "Sugar Baby, who is it?"
"Uh, nobody, wrong apartment," she said, giggling. She turned back to Bobby and Alex, "Please, please come back in a couple hours."
"I thought you wanted justice for poor Ali," Bobby pretended to be sympathetic.
"I do, but I'm busy right now," she hissed, trying to shut the door in their faces.
Alex placed her boot in the door, "Which daddy is using your services this morning?"
The door was yanked open forcefully, and a man of about sixty, dressed in a black silk robe, boomed, "Can't you people take a hint? The lady is occupied."
"She sure is," Bobby and Alex flashed their badges.
"Oh, uh, come in detectives," he stepped back, taking his lover firmly by the arm.
The detectives followed January and the man into a luxurious sitting room.
"So, we haven't met," Alex nodded at the man, who was sitting next to January on the couch, his arm curved protectively around her.
"I'm Lawrence Stogman," he replied.
"But your friends call you Stogie, right?" she said sarcastically.
"Yes, but how did...?" he was puzzled.
"Oh, we've gotten pretty acquainted with your girlfriend, here. She told us about your...arrangement," Bobby said.
"Janny?" the man asked.
"Oh, Stogie, I didn't mean to. She tricked me," January pouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Alex.
Lawrence scowled at the detectives, "I still don't understand what you want with Janny."
"You want to tell him or should we?" Alex countered.
The blonde's sullen expression was answer enough.
"Okay, then. Mr. Stogman, can you tell us where you were last Sunday into Monday morning?" Bobby asked.
"Uh, I was home with my wife," he stammered. "What is this about?"
"Your girlfriend's alibi," Alex was succinct.
Stogie looked decidedly puzzled, "Why would Janny need an alibi?"
The detectives both looked at Ms Davis, hoping she would answer his question.
"Stogie, we were together last Sunday, remember? Just like we are every Sunday night," she said sweetly.
"Every Sunday night. Oh, your wife must love that," Alex snarked.
"I live in Connecticut, and work here. I take the train in every Sunday night," he cleared his throat nervously. "And last Sunday...my daughter got married, so I didn't come back to the city until Monday night."
"Should be easy enough to confirm," Bobby nodded.
"You're going to talk to my wife?" he was in a panic.
"Yes, we must verify your whereabouts," Alex said.
January was crestfallen, "But Stogie, I need you to say..."
Alex held up a hand, "Ms. Davis, I must advise you of your rights before you say anything else." She proceeded to mirandize the woman.
Stogie looked on, still mystified, "What did she do?"
"I didn't do a damn thing!" she insisted.
As Alex accompanied the furious January to her bedroom to allow her to dress, Bobby was left to sit with a bewildered "daddy."
Once in the interrogation room, Ms. Davis' bravado seemed to crumble. "I didn't mean to hurt him!"
"Ms Davis, you need to shut your mouth," her attorney, Jane Bell, was vexed.
"I want them to understand! He told me he was getting ready to be married, and I couldn't be part of his life anymore. But he fucked me first. Goddamn it, he promised me! He said...I was just...a distraction, and he couldn't afford to have me around," she sniffed. "What a load of shit! He was worth millions-he could afford me and a wife!"
"You knew how much he was worth?" Bobby asked.
"Don't answer that," her lawyer warned.
January cast her a withering glance, "You all think that I'm some dumb bimbo, and I'm not! Of course, I checked his financials before I got involved with him, before I see any of my daddies. I'm a businesswoman, after all."
"Why kill him? After all, I'm sure there were other potential, uh, clients, out there," Alex snarked.
"Because he had two other women on the side, besides that homely fiancee," she acted like Alex was an idiot. "I didn't even have a chance to get my beautiful things out of his closet!"
"And why was that?" Bobby asked.
"Because I was all icky from the blood," she sighed.
Bobby and Alex walked into the observation room.
"Jesus Christ," Captain Hannah breathed.
"Just when you think you've seen everything," Bobby agreed.
"Amazing how she kept them all straight," Alex added.
In the bullpen, they pulled together the paperwork for the arraignment. In addition to the confession, they had the statement from Mr Stogman, the computer footprint, and pending DNA. Bobby went out and grabbed them a late lunch while Alex got the reports from the ME's office. She put the finishing touches on the case-file, and made her way to the captain's office.
"You get the easy ones," Daniels complained teasingly when Alex walked past his desk.
"You could have had this one, gladly," she shot back, then paused. "Anything new on the Dalton homicide?"
"Uh, the vids were inconclusive. Looks like a woman in scrubs, similar in build to Gage, but she faced away from the camera," his tone was regretful. "Perp wore gloves, which have so far not turned up. The murder weapon was found in a sharps container on the medication cart."
"Maybe she flushed the gloves," Alex opined.
"That's what Falacci thinks," he sat back in his chair.
"And the scrubs could have been sent down the trash chute," she sighed. "Right to the incinerator."
"Want the case back?" he invited.
"No, I don't," Alex shook her head. "Just...keep tabs on Jo Gage. She's dangerous."
"Will do," he nodded.
Bobby glanced at his watch, and considered whether he had time to call his jeweler friend. Deciding to take the time, he punched the keys on his cell, "Hey, Rafe, Bobby Goren. Yeah, got your message. Any thoughts on what I asked you?"
Rafe Mattison was an old friend from the neighborhood, who had a jewelry design business in addition to his little retail shop. "Bobby, my man, just thinking about you. Yeah, I got a couple things on paper. Want to drop by and take a look?"
"Uh, I will sometime this week. Maybe over lunch on Thursday?" Bobby asked.
"That should work," he agreed. "See ya."
Bobby slapped his phone shut and hurried back to One PP, carrying the takeout from a local diner. "One salad and fruit cup for you, one pastrami on rye for me with coleslaw," he set the food out on the break room table.
"What do I owe you?" she asked as they began to eat.
"Nothin', since I stuck you with most of the paperwork," he grinned.
Whether it was her discussion with Daniels, or a more ephemeral reason, Alex's slumber was shattered with another nightmare.
Her body soaked in cold sweat, she felt her heart pounding nearly out of her chest. She was alone, as Bobby had gone out with Lewis and Tom and planned to go home to Brooklyn. She sat up and fumbled for the lamp switch. Three o'clock. Shit. Why did the dreams seem to happen about the time she was kidnapped, even all these years later? She got out of bed, and padded towards the kitchen. She heated water for tea, and grabbed an afghan from the couch to curl up in. She flicked on the TV, strictly for the noise. She dunked the chamomile bag into the steaming cup of water and took a generous sip. She fell back asleep in her chair, leaving her with a stiff neck and in a bitchy mood. And she had to be in court to testify in one of the cold cases she'd cleared. Which meant she didn't even see Bobby until late in the day Tuesday.
"You look like hell," she commented as she dumped her bag on her desk. "Have fun last night?"
He rubbed his neck, "Oh, yeah. Just remind me not to drink like I'm a teenager next time."
"Right," her tone came off more clipped than she intended.
"You don't look so hot yourself. Bad day in court?" he asked.
"Cabot kept me from getting dinged for contempt," she fished through her purse for some ibuprofen. She shook a few into her hand and offered him the bottle.
"No, I'm fine," he shook his head. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Just didn't sleep very well," she brushed it off. "Hey, I ran into Claire at the courthouse, and she offered us an alternative to the hotel for the conference, and it's free."
"Really?" he was dubious.
"Jack's daughter Rebecca lives in San Diego, and Jack and Claire usually rent a condo for the month of November. Since the kids have school, they're not going until Thanksgiving this year. She says it's ours if we want it. The email link is..."
she clicked a few keys on her laptop.
He read over her shoulder, "Mission Beach, two bedrooms, two and a half baths...check it out...how far is the convention from there?"
"Uh, about a fifteen or twenty minute drive," she replied.
"Well, it would save the expense report questions on the lodging," he said quietly.
"Was thinking the same thing," she grinned, reaching for the phone.
They spent the night at Bobby's, both too tired to do anything but sleep.
Alex paced Olivet's office on Thursday, describing her most recent nightmare.
"What do you think was the trigger?" the doctor inquired.
She ran her fingers through her hair, "I don't know. Maybe it was talking to Daniels, or because it was a full moon. Or because Bobby wasn't with me that night."
"Did you talk to Bobby about it?" Olivet pressed.
"No, because he feels guilty enough for her being back in our lives," she was exasperated.
Bobby looked at the sketch ideas Rafe had, pointing out one design in particular. "I like this one, but I'd like twelve smaller diamonds between the engagement ring and the wedding band. Can you use the white gold from the original setting?"
"No problem," Rafe scratched out a few new details. "Something like this?"
"Yeah, exactly. What do I owe you?" Bobby pulled out a credit card.
He named a figure and held a hand up, "Hey you don't have to pay today. See if you like it first."
The next few weeks flew by, and Ashley and Ryan's wedding weekend was upon them. Bobby worked on whittling their mountain of paperwork, while Alex took Friday afternoon off for spa treatments, courtesy of Maeve's friend. It was her gift to the ladies of the wedding party.
Alex enjoyed the pampering, and looked forward to spending the weekend with her family. That and a night in a hotel with Bobby would be a lovely preview to their trip to California in November. Between the mani/pedi, hair treatments and massage, she felt utterly relaxed.
Bobby met her at the church for the rehearsal. He wasn't an official member of the wedding party, but he still enjoyed spending time with Alex's family. As he watched the wedding party take their places at the altar, he thought again of the ring hidden in the back of his closet. Had to find the right moment. Not this weekend, but a time when they were alone. Maybe when they went to California.
"Hey, son," Johnny's voice broke his reverie.
"They look happy together, don't they?" Bobby smiled.
"Just babies themselves," the older man shook his head.
"How old were you when you got married?" he chuckled.
"Touche," Johnny replied. ""No matter how old they are, still look at them as kids."
"Guess so," Bobby said solemnly.
"Not too late for you and Alex," he hinted.
"What do you mean?" Bobby's hackles rose.
"You love my daughter and she...she is nuts for you. What are you waiting for?" Johnny wanted to know.
"I-I want to marry her," he measured his words carefully. "But the timing...has to be right for both of us."
"Have you asked her?" Alex's father pressed.
"Not yet," Bobby admitted.
"When you do, just know that you won't get any opposition from me," he clapped him on the shoulder as he got up to leave.
The rehearsal dinner was steaks and ribs, with beer and wine to wash it down.
Alex leaned her head into Bobby's shoulder and asked, "Having fun?"
"I am," he smiled, drawing her closer. "It's even better that I can do this..." he kissed her lingeringly. "And not worry what anyone is gonna think."
She returned the kiss, "Um hmm. Hiding it at work is getting harder all the time."
"Do tell," he chuckled.
"I'd rather show you," she whispered into his ear.
Saturday dawned clear and crisp, the perfect fall day. Alex bolted from the bed at seven o'clock, wanting to grab a run before the rat race of the wedding day began. She finessed him into running with her, laughing off his protests.
She ran through the shower, snatched the garment bag holding her dress and lingerie from the closet and was off to the salon by eight thirty, leaving him with instructions on where to be when, and the registration information for the hotel. She'd packed a bag the night before, so he was in charge of getting that to the hotel.
Bobby spent his morning getting a haircut, and picking up their dry-cleaning. He arrived at the church a little after two, in time to watch the the wedding photography. There were family pictures as well; Eames family, Nelson family in all combinations. He and Alex were caught in a candid pose in the doorway of the church. They had been taking a moment alone, heads bent together, smiling. Her chocolate colored dress looked great next to his black suit, and the burgundy tie he wore complemented the bouquet of apricot and yellow roses she held.
Too soon, she left him to take her place in the processional, while he took a seat with Liz and Eric. Nate was the ring-bearer.
The traditional music swelled around them as the ceremony began. Ashley was a radiant bride, and Ryan beamed happily as Jack placed her hand in his. Bobby noted that in spite of Jack and Maeve's previous objections, they seemed happy with their daughter's choice of life partner. The priest began the words so familiar, even with his years as a lapsed Catholic.
Alex stood at the altar, her heart overflowing with happiness. She was with her family, and now had Bobby in her life. Maybe someday they would stand to be married, too. But for today, Ryan and Ashley were beginning their own little family. She blinked tears away, remembering the day her eldest niece was born. Her mother was alive and well then, and Anne and Johnny rejoiced in the birth of their first grandchild. There was such hope that day, before their family was marked with sadness and loss. Alex hoped with all her heart that her mom was looking down on them in joy.
After they were pronounced husband and wife, Ryan and Ashley eschewed the traditional receiving line in favor of ushering their guests out. The new Mrs Nelson whispered as she hugged Bobby, "Now get busy and marry Aunt Alex so this baby can have a new uncle."
Bobby merely grinned as he kissed her cheek, then shook Ryan's hand.
Alex rode with Bobby in the Shelby to the hotel. "What a fabulous day," she sighed happily, sniffing her bouquet.
"Perfect weather for the wedding," he agreed, reaching out to take her hand. "You were the most beautiful woman in that church."
"You weren't so bad yourself," she pressed his hand to her cheek. "So glad you're here."
He pulled into the hotel parking lot, "Thank you for asking me."
"My family isn't too much for you?" she asked.
"I like your family," he fingered a curling tendril of her hair. "And being included in happy times...something I missed out on."
"I know it's not the same," she cupped his face in her hands.
"It's fine, Alex," he assured her. "Being with the people you love-that love you...is more than I could ever ask for."
The reception was wonderful, a typical Eames celebration. Through it all,
dinner, toasts to the new couple, and dancing far into the night, Bobby was treated as family. They were impressed by his dancing skills and his charming conversation. Alex tried not to be too jealous when she had to surrender her dancing partner. At ten o'clock, the bridal couple got ready to toss the ceremonial bouquet and garter. There was much hooting and hollering as Bobby and Alex were the recipients of the traditional "next to be married" trinkets.
The next hours were spent dancing, laughing and drinking. Ryan and Ashley had retired to the honeymoon suite before midnight, but the rest of the family enjoyed the ballroom until nearly three AM.
"Maybe I should carry you over the threshold," Bobby chuckled as they exited the elevator.
"I caught the bouquet, not a ring," she giggled, snapping the garter he wore as an armband.
"Trying to be romantic," he fumbled with the key-card.
"You're plenty romantic, without throwing your back out, baby," she grabbed his lapels and kissed him.
"Couldn't throw my back out carrying a little thing like you," he spanned her waist with his hands, then sought the zipper of her dress.
"I want to save your back for other...pursuits," she pushed on the door handle.
The door had scarcely clicked shut, when she pushed him against it, "Been wanting to do this all night." She busied herself unknotting his tie, and working the buttons on his white dress shirt.
"And I've been wanting to see what's under this very fine dress," he located the zipper pull and tugged it down. He palmed the skin of her shoulders, fingers encountering the smooth black silk of her lingerie, lifted her against him to bestow a few hungry kisses.
Alex divested him of his jacket, throwing it carelessly to the floor. The tie and shirt were next, then his t shirt, "Finally, some skin," she bit near a nipple, then soothed it with her tongue.
"Aw, baby...that feels so good," Bobby groaned, feeling himself harden under ministrations. "Speaking of skin..." he slid the dress from her shoulders, and it fell in a whispery puddle at her feet. He held her at arms length, "Very, veree nice." He dragged out the syllables.
Alex spun slowly, casting a flirtatious glance over her shoulder, "Bought just for you."
He took a seat on the nearest chair, his knees rather unsteady from the combination of booze and arousal. Bobby moved to remove his shoes but Alex reached out a hand to stop him.
Kneeling, she removed his shoes and socks, her hands stroking sensuously. She looked up at him, a sexy grin curved her lips. She moved to his fly, working first the button, then catching the zipper pull in her teeth. She blew a warm breath over his groin, and worked her hand inside his briefs, freeing his erection.
His fingers worked the pins from her silky hair, undoing the chignon and letting the strands fall about her face. Bobby's breath hitched as her tongue made contact with his skin, "Maybe we should take this to the bed."
"Nuh-uh," she breathed, "Right here." Alex rose to her feet, reaching for the hem of her slip.
"Let me," he requested. Bobby hitched the silk and lace to her waist, locating and removing her panties, and fingering the delicate lace of the garter belt and stockings. "Come here," he leaned forward and pressed a kiss in the hollow of her hip, then moved to her center.
Alex's legs were in imminent danger of collapsing as his tongue sought the damp folds. She braced her hands on his shoulders, gasping and sighing as he pleasured her, "Now, need you now," she moaned, straddling his lap.
"Kiss me, baby...Oh, yeah," he threw his head back as their bodies joined. The rhythm became nearly frantic as they sought to satisfy the other.
Afterward, they stayed entwined on the chair. Alex spoke first, "Shit, I still have my shoes on," she glanced down at the shiny black heels.
"But that's sexy," he commented, hooking a strap of the sheer black slip.
"Now, I think I'm ready for bed," she murmured against his mouth.
He lifted her as he stood, both of them laughing as his pants fell to the floor.
"Would probably work better if you put me down," Alex remarked..
He kicked his pants and briefs aside, while she ditched her shoes and slip. Bobby unhooked her bra, but teasingly told her to keep the garter and stockings in place.
"Indulging in a fantasy?" she chuckled, reaching into the suitcase after taking her turn in the bathroom.
Bobby had turned the covers down and was climbing into bed, "We can indulge in one of yours, too."
She retrieved two little bottles, "Remember these?"
"Uh, yeah," Bobby grinned.
"You do me, I'll do you," she handed him one of the bottles.
"Not sure if I have another round in me," he said sheepishly.
"Me either, but we have the room until noon," she laughed.
They did have the strength for one long, slow interlude. The first pale threads of dawn were streaking the eastern sky when they fell into a sated sleep.
Bobby and Alex were the last to arrive at the Sunday brunch, causing a great deal of Eames family ribbing and trash talk. They watched Ryan and Ashley open gifts, then straggled on home. Bobby left Alex in Forest Hills, then headed to Brooklyn. As much as they were loath for the weekend to end, Alex had developed a splitting headache, and didn't feel she would be very good company.
Bobby wheeled the Shelby towards home, pretty tired himself. He grabbed his overnight bag headed towards the door. He felt for his cell phone, frowning as he realized he'd neglected to turn it on since Saturday morning. Granted, neither he nor Alex was on call, but still...He heard the insistent beep of missed calls and new voice messages. Ten missed calls, all from Hannah, and six messages. He put the key in the lock as he scrolled to the text messages. Message one: Jo Gage escaped-call ASAP. Bobby frantically pressed the speed dial as he opened the door. Alex, had to tell Alex! Pick up, pick up! He urged silently.
"Yeah, what did you forget?" her voice sounded sleepy, cross.
"It's-it's Jo, she's out," he began. The rest of his sentence was lost...he felt something whiz past him, a sharp pain on the back of his head, then blackness.
"Bobby? Bobby!" Alex screamed as the line went dead.
Oh, I am so, so mean! I promise that the next installment will be posted in a much more timely fashion than the last.