My brain was racing, my sister and brother-n-law were probably landing in California close to the same moment that we were pulling up to the curb about a block away from the address that my nephew Jake had given me over the phone. I had to call my sister. I had to tell her to come home.
Tap.tap.tap. Someone's knuckle was rapping on the window of the car. It was clear to me that Bobby recognized the tall man with black hair, and Bobby motioned to me that he would be right back. As he got out of the car, he handed off my phone to another blonde guy, who slid into the car next to me. He introduced himself, but for the life of me his name did not penetrate my brain. His job did though, he was some kind of technology guy with NYPD and I knew he was there to make certain we did not loose the connection to inside the house.
I realized I was shivering even though the inside of the car was warm. As the blonde officer analyzed my phone, I kept listening to what was going on inside the house. Rob was alternating between yelling at the other kids in the room, and threatening to kill himself. My mind was working on this as well, about how to diffuse the situation inside the house. I wondered who was pulling up on scene from NYPD. I didn't think I was over estimating NYPD's response when I thought they were treating this as a hostage situation, which would involve some kind of trained negotiator and an ESU team. I didn't think outside contact was going to work. In fact, any contact from the outside identified as a police presence would probably escalate things and either Rob would shoot himself or hurt someone inside the house.
I was going over different scenarios, most of them ending badly. One tenable scenario was time. NYPD was still responding, so time might give room to Rob passing out. He was becoming more incoherent, making me believe he was continuing to drink, or had taken something that was increasingly affecting him.
I watched the blonde NYPD officer handling my phone. He indicated to me he had done something to secure and forward the signal to a better device located in the van about two cars in front of me. He lay my phone back on the seat beside me, and he and the uniformed officer that had been driving got out of the car we were in and walked toward the van.
Before I had a chance to follow, the tall black haired detective that had tapped on the window when we first pulled up slid into the seat beside me.
"I'm Mike Logan, I work with Goren in Major Case." He introduced himself. "Goren wanted me to let you know that he is in gear, wired, and going in."
I think I completely surprised Mike Logan by not saying anything, instead I moved quickly and started to crawl over him toward the open door. I did not think that Bobby going inside was a good idea. I really thought we should let a bit of time slip by, just another 10 minutes.
"Whoa." Logan said, grabbing a hold of me, gently pushing me back into the seat.
"10 minutes, we should just wait 10 minutes." I was saying as Mike Logan physically held me in place.
"Rob, he's losing coherence, every minute. It is almost as if he is dozing off, passing out." Logan was continuing to hold me in the car. I was continuing to try to get out.
"10 minutes, the kids in there, they are keeping quiet, Rob will pass out, then you can go in." I pleaded.
"Goren is already in." Logan said, looking up the block at the house where I realized I could see Bobby standing outside of the front door. Logan reached out and clicked my phone closed, gaining my full attention. I looked at him like he had lost his mind.
"You can listen on this." He said, and sat back, making himself comfortable, making it clear that he was sitting in the car with me, keeping me in the car with him.
"Yeah, uh, you're going to have to turn it down a notch." Bobby was saying to whoever had opening the door.
"It's late, and the music, it's way too loud." Bobby continued, he did not identify himself as NYPD, nor did he identify himself as a neighbor.
"Turn it down." A girl's voice said, she sounded a little shaky. I could see that she moved to shut the door on Bobby, but he kept her from closing him out.
"How about if I just step inside until you turn it down. It's cold, and I'm not coming back out in the cold because you didn't do what you said you were going to do." I watched as Bobby moved his large frame into the doorway, pushing himself into the house.
"Hey, sorry, I just was thinking the music was loud." Bobby said, and I could tell he was in the room where everything was happening. "I was thinking you could turn it back by 8 notches or so." Bobby said.
"8, there are 8 of them, including the kid with the gun." Logan supplied, translating Bobby's last remark.
"Hey, is she OK?" Bobby asked, and I knew he was referring to the girl named Dee. Jake had said that she was unconscious.
"Can I just, uh, right, so take it easy." Bobby was saying.
"Well she's got a pulse." Bobby said, "nice and strong." He added.
"Who the hell are you?" Rob asked, his words slurring together.
"Just a guy who thought your music was a bit too loud." Bobby supplied.
"You like loud music?" Bobby asked.
I listened to Bobby talking with Rob. I recognized that Bobby had acquired these particular skills a long time ago. Living with his mother was no easy thing. I was certain as a child, Bobby became quite adept at trying to manage her behavior. He would probably try talking with her, much like he was talking with Rob now, try to establish something in common, some rational tie in a completely irrational situation.
"What?" Rob asked. I am sure that in his state, Rob was not exactly following why Bobby was trying to talk to him about loud music.
"Loud music, do you like loud music?" Bobby asked.
Tap.tap.tap. Someone was trying to get Mike Logan's attention.
"You stay right here, for 5 minutes, and then I will come back and get you." Logan said to me.
"Don't put us all in danger, 5 minutes." He said, and I nodded, indicating that I would stay put. I watched Mike leave the car, taking the listening device receiver with him, so I was left sitting in silence.
I leaned back against the car seat and closed my eyes. I could imagine Bobby inside fishing for a connection, any connection with Rob. As soon as he had that connection, Bobby would try to talk Rob down, into giving him the gun, into giving up without hurting anyone, without hurting himself. Bobby had established that Dee was probably OK, no one had been hurt yet.
Again, I thought of Bobby as a boy, probably doing the same thing with his mother, probably trying to find a connection with her, to talk her through, or away from, her delusions. In a larger sense, I thought of Bobby simply trying to find any connection with her. She was his mother, he probably struggled his entire life trying to connect with her. I wondered if he could find a connection with Rob.
I opened my eyes and realized my cell phone was beside me. I picked it up and left messages on both my sister and my brother-n-law's phones. I did not know what to say, so I said that Jake's friend Rob had tried to commit suicide, and that Jake was there, that they needed to catch the first flight home. I knew it was not completely the truth, but I really hoped it would be the truth by the time they arrived home.
I could see Mike Logan talking with two other NYPD officers outside of the van. I could see their breath frosting in the cold night air. Two more cars pulled silently to the curb without lights. I could see what I thought to be ESU officers getting out. They would have a sharp shooter with them, someone to take out Rob in the event things turned in that direction.
I felt sick. I was sick with worry for my nephew, I was sick that my sister was thousands of miles away, I was sick that Bobby had gone inside.
Tap. tap. tap. Mike Logan was back at the car, he held up his hand, indicating 5 more minutes. I didn't know that I had any choice but to sit there. So, I nodded. I held my phone in my hand, knowing there was someone else I wanted to call. I had to leave a message for that person as well, but as I was hanging up my cell phone, Mike Logan opened the car door and motioned for me to follow him. A larger van had pulled up a bit behind us, and he opened the door and let me inside. I realized that there were now two vans full of officers listening to Bobby inside the house.
"Did you know, did you know she was cheating on me? The whole fucking world knew and no one told me." Rob was yelling a bit incoherently at Bobby.
"You know women, they cheat." Bobby replied, and I knew that was it, that was the connection, that was what Rob needed, someone to agree with him.
My brain was still violently jumping from thought to thought. I thought of Bobby doing this each day, crawling into someone's psyche, looking for a vulnerability, a way to connect, to bring them around, to talk them down, to get them to confess. He probably never managed this with his mother, this entre' into her mind. It was probably what drove him to this job, propelled him into his style of detective work, of interacting with others.
"Yeah, women, they cheat, cheaters all of them." Rob responded. My brain refocused on the house, on Jake in the house, on the safety of the people in the house, on Bobby's voice inside the house. And, I prayed to myself, that the message I had left for my sister would be the truth.
A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! As always, please let me know what you think.