Intentional End

Chapter 40

Sunday Evening

Bobby hadn't said a word until he and Sledge stood at the car rental desk, "I, uh, I want to go to her apartment tonight."

"Sure, that's why we're here," Sledge replied, removing his cell and stepping away. "Hi, Hon, we're here."

"How is he?"

Sledge paused and fought a flare of anger, "He's fine, Alex, he's fine. I'm tired, how are you?" he answered with attitude he couldn't hide.

Eames heard his ire and regretted asking about Bobby first. "Edward, I'm sorry, I'm just worried about him."

"Yeah, I know, you're worried, me too," boy, her question flipped a nasty switch in him. "Listen, he wants to go to the apartment tonight. How about if I call you later and we can talk?"

"That would be nice. Edward, look after him, please; he's not well."

They listened to each other breathe and then Sledge said softly, the edge gone, "I will. Hon, I'll call you later." He heard her breathe and whispered, "I love you, Alex, I love you."

A time zone away, Eames rubbed her forehead, hesitated, and then said, "Call me later."

"Yeah," and they both clicked off.

Forty-five minutes later, Bobby parked in the spot beside Gleason's car and didn't move. Sledge waited, imagining how hard this was going to be for his friend. Finally, Bobby sighed and then said softly, sadly, "The, uh, the super put a lock box on the door. I have to get the key from her."

Both men exited the car and Sledge followed Bobby into the main house.

"Mr. Goren! Come in, come in," Gladys exclaimed.

Bobby stepped back from the energy, looked at the floor with two hands up, palms out in front of his chest, and took a breath, remaining in the foyer. To Gladys, he said, "Uh, Gladys O'Fallon, this is Edward Sledge, a colleague of mine," and to Sledge, he said, "Gladys is the super."

The pair nodded to each other and Bobby continued, "I, I want to get into her apartment. I need the lock box key."

"Yeah, sure, of course, right here." She stepped back into the small apartment and crossed to a flat box on the wall, removing a key. "Here you are. You want me to go with you? Unlock the door?" she asked, handing over the key.

"No, no thanks. Uh, I'm going to keep this until we're done; we'll be here a few days."

Gladys nodded and Sledge shot him a look – a few days, he wondered with surprise; terrific, he thought.

Bobby and Sledge walked to Gleason's apartment and stood at the door. Sledge saw Bobby's hand begin to shake, and noticed his breathing increase. "Here, man, let me unlock it," he offered, and took the key Bobby willingly gave up. Sledge bent, unlocked the box and Bobby used his copy of the apartment key to unlock the door, but he didn't open it.

Sledge waited, knowing this was going to be bad; he was about to say something when Bobby suddenly turned the knob, pushed it open and stepped inside. Immediately, he snapped on the lamp next to the door and continued into the apartment, removing a pair of latex gloves and an evidence bag from his jacket pocket. He shrugged off his jacket, tossed it on the upholstered chair and walked to the centre of the room, looking up at the CO detector and smoke alarm. Sledge followed him in and stood by the door with his hands in his pockets.

Bobby began to pull on the gloves and turned to pull over a kitchen chair when Sledge said, "Wait, Goren, wait; it's dark, you can't see well enough in here to do anything. Let's wait until morning, call the local PD and do this right."

"I want to do this."

"I know you do, and I want to help you. But this is a crime scene; if you remove that cover, take the battery, maybe smudge the prints, you'll compromise the integrity of any evidence you gather. You know I'm right. Let's wait until morning."

Bobby stopped and considered what Sledge was saying as his colleague continued, "Look, Bobby, you do this now and it will look like the actions of a grief-stricken husband. The feds will question your mental state; claim that you fabricated evidence to build a case against them. Too much is at stake here to do this rashly, you'd be playing right into their hands. Let's be smart about this. Don't screw this up."

Those last words brought Bobby's head up. 'Don't screw this up,' he remembered telling himself that very thing – how many times? – that first night, when he and Gleason had gone for coffee; he'd been so worried that he would do something, say something, to put her off.

Bobby knew Sledge was right; he'd thought about it on the way from O'Hare. He needed to do this right if he was going up against the federal government. He needed to corroborate his actions; Sledge might not be enough, he needed an assist from the Evanston PD. But Emerson told Deakins that he wouldn't help, couldn't help; why even bother asking? "Emerson told Deakins that the local PD couldn't help; won't help. What can I do?"

Sledge thought a moment and then said, "Well, what if the FBI convinced them otherwise?"

Bobby stared at his friend and then pointed out, "You don't have a shield yet."

"True, but I have an ID; nothing that says, 'Special Agent,' but it's got 'FBI' on it with my mug. Let's see if they buy it."

Suddenly, Bobby was exhausted; he stood another minute and then slowly began to remove the latex gloves. Sledge emotionally slumped with relief and said, "Good, you're making the right decision here. Let's go get a hotel room, maybe some dinner and then we'll start fresh in the morning."

"I'm going to stay here tonight. The Hilton is not too far. You take the car."

Oh, man, thought Sledge, "Bobby, you cannot stay here," he said softly, "this is a crime scene. Come on, we need to get a hotel room."

More than anything, Bobby wanted to stay in the apartment tonight. He wanted to sleep on the sheets she last lay upon. He wanted to breathe in her scent, breathe the air she breathed, the air that killed her. He wanted to be where her soul left her body and wanted his soul to follow hers. He wanted to die in the bed where she died. He stood staring at the floor, knowing he could do none of that; not until he had built and proven a case against the people who had killed his wife.

"Come on, man, let's go, it's getting late," Sledge said softly. Bobby slowly looked up, nodded and shoved the latex into his jeans pocket, moving for his coat.

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Evanston PD

Monday Morning

"Captain Emerson is in a meeting," the front desk officer told the pair.

Bobby stepped back in frustration, a hand to his mouth. Sledge knew he had to keep a leash on Goren's emotions if they were to convince the Evanston PD captain to assist in the investigation. "Look, Bobby," Sledge said, guiding Bobby away from the desk, "let's go get some breakfast and check back later. I'll leave a message letting Emerson know we want to speak with him."

Bobby was eager to get going on this. He paced in a box, his hand running over his head and down his neck. "Ok, ok," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sledge nodded and stepped back to the desk.

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Monday Morning

MCP

Logan saw Eames crossing the squad room, arriving for the day, and caught up with her, "How's Goren?"

She didn't reply right away, continuing to her desk and he followed her. She hung up her jacket and sat, then turned toward Logan. "He's ok."

"That's it? 'He's ok'?" Logan reached behind him, pulled over a chair and sat, leaning in toward her, "Alex, tell me the truth, did Goren try to off himself?" he whispered.

She looked at her colleague and considered telling him all that had transpired the previous day. "He's ok, Mike, he's ok. Bobby just needs time to work out some things; but, he's, he's ok." She couldn't look him in the eye.

Logan stared at her and knew that Eames would never betray her partner. He also knew that his suspicions were correct; from Eames' demeanour, he could tell that Bobby had come close to killing himself. "Ok, then; I'm glad he's ok, going to be ok." He sat up and then stood, pushing the chair back to its place, "Listen, Falacci and I worked this weekend and got some interesting things from Wycoff's electronics. Why don't the three of us meet in the task room and go over what we found?"

"Yeah, sure," Eames glanced at the clock, "In ten?"

Logan nodded, the pair looked at each other and then he walked away.

"Alex, my office, please," Deakins called from the office door.

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Preston's Restaurant

Evanston, IL

Thirty minutes later, Bobby and Sledge entered a family style restaurant known for its breakfasts. After ordering, Sledge said, "You know, you have to be cool about this. You cannot go off on this Emerson guy. You need to be even keel, no histrionics."

Bobby slumped back in the booth and set his left hand on the tabletop, his thumb tapping the paper placemat. "I know, I know," was all he could muster. He'd barely said a word since they had gotten two rooms at the Hilton the previous evening.

Loomis, the hotel doorman, surprised to see Bobby so soon, was gently kind, asking after Bobby's well being and not pushing for more. Bobby had nodded without a reply. Sledge had asked if he wanted to get some dinner and Bobby shook his head, saying he'd meet Sledge in the lobby at nine the next morning.

Sledge told him to try and get some sleep then called Alex. "Hi, Hon, we're at the hotel."

"I bet you're tired, aren't you?" she offered, being certain to make her first comment about Edward.

"Yeah, I am. How are you doing?"

"I'm ok. It's really quiet after all the excitement."

"Are you home?"

"Yes, after you two left, I cleaned up his place and then left about half an hour later." Eames felt mildly guilty about her near snoop of Bobby's bedroom. She had stood at the bedroom door for a long time, staring at the bed, imagining all that must have taken place there. The glance of Bobby's manhood when Sledge had pulled him from the tub and he had shed his boxers rushed back and she felt herself flutter down there. Dear God, his flaccid length hung thick and heavy, horse-like, she had thought.

The couple spoke for an hour, about Bobby, the plan to speak with Emerson in the morning and finally, about each other and their feelings; they said goodnight with a promise of more talk.

Sledge and Bobby sat quietly in the booth and then Bobby said softly, continuing to watch his thumb tap, "I, uh, I want to thank you, you and Alex, for, for, stopping me." He glanced up in that sidelong way of his and then looked back at his thumb. "I was, I was out of my mind."

"I know, I know."

The server brought their meals and Bobby ate with gusto.

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MCS

Eames caught the sad tone in the boss's voice and shut the door behind her.

"Have a seat," Deakins told her, sitting behind his desk. "How's your partner?"

Eames looked away and told Deakins what she told Logan, "He's ok."

Deakins stared at her, knowing that his best detective was not 'ok.' The silence brought her eyes back to his, "What happened?" he asked.

She shifted in her seat, not knowing how the captain could possibly know anything had happened. "What do you mean?"

He stood, came around the desk and leaned against the front. "What did he do?"

She squirmed again and said, "I don't know what you mean."

Alex Eames was a top-notch interrogator, but not so good when she was on the receiving end. Deakins moved to the chair and sat beside her, "His service weapon is still locked up here. Does he have one at home?"

She closed her eyes and lowered her head, hiding behind the curtain of hair, "Captain," she whispered.

Softly and sadly, Deakins asked, "How close did he get?"

Her head snapped up and Eames answered, "How did you know?"

Deakins took a few heartbeats, looked away and sighed deeply, "I know my people. It wouldn't have surprised me if he had done it." He looked back at her, "Did you stop him?"

She swallowed and nodded, "Edward was there, too." She did not want to say any more.

The Captain nodded and then said sadly, "He's lucky to have you. I made a good choice pairing you two years ago; I'm glad you stuck with him, Alex."

She nodded and he saw her eyes fill, "Me, too," she whispered.

"I don't want to know anything else; the less I know, the better. As far as anyone knows, we stopped talking after you told me he was ok." They looked at each other, each understanding what was happening, "Right?"

She nodded and straightened up, "Uh, Logan and Falacci want to fill me in on what they found this weekend, do you want to join us?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there," another studied look and they rose.

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