Chapter 8: Orrery

When Eames caught sight of Goren in the ballroom, relief flooded through her.

Two nights earlier, after the men in the SUV shot at them, Dwight had made a phone call. Then they drove out to a dark house and waited in the car until they heard gunshots. Eames hadn't known Dwight would have the people behind the drive-by killed. He'd taken her into the house to "reassure" her that they were dead. He also repeatedly assured her that they were just drug dealers-the kinds of homicides that tended to go unsolved.

Victor was there, and a couple of Dwight's other employees. The bodies were on the floor. She had been revolted; not by the blood, as she pretended, but because she hadn't been able to stop this. Victor asked Dwight why he brought her, and what he should do with her. Dwight said they would leave for New York early, taking her with them. He said Lily had saved his life; she was on their side. She'd claimed she was going to throw up. The look Victor gave her told her that if she stepped outside he would put a bullet in her back no matter what Dwight said, so she'd gone to the bathroom and wrote the message in the soap, hoping King would find it.

They hadn't allowed her to go back to her apartment. Only minutes after leaving the bloody scene, they were all piled in a van heading to New York City. Dwight had decided she would be his date at a party. She and one of Dwight's female employees (whom Victor instructed to keep a close eye on her) had spent all day shopping and getting ready for the party. Eames had been surreptitiously looking for a chance to make an unobserved phone call, but one never arose.

She'd decided to go along with Dwight at the party until she had a chance to slip away. Seeing someone she knew was the last thing she'd expected. She couldn't imagine how Bobby had figured it how to find her, but wasn't too surprised that he had. She wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him. Just knowing he was in the same room eased the knot of fear that had been in her gut since she and Dwight were shot at.

After letting Bobby know she saw him, Eames turned her attention back to the conversation between Dwight and Zabka.

"Of course, I expect some people will be watching how I run this place. I know I haven't built a reputation in this city yet," Zabka commented.

"No rush. Play your cards right, there's no telling how successful this venture could make you."

Zabka laughed. "And speaking of establishing reputations, Bob, I should be greeting some other guests. I'll talk to you later to work out some final details. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Corvino."

"Pleasure's mine," Eames replied.

After Zabka left, Victor turned to Dwight. "I hope one of the details your going to work out later is my stake in this place."

"Vic, you worry too much. You know you're the only one I trust to run my business in New York City."

"Really?" He glanced in Eames direction. "Lately it seems like there's a lot of trust to go around."

Dwight smirked. "Vic, this is a party. Why don't you go enjoy yourself."

Acting like he was reluctantly following an order from a superior officer, Victor stalked off.

"He really doesn't like me," Eames noted.

"Don't worry. Once he gets settled in New York, he won't be around to bother you anymore." Dwight looked at her. "Is something wrong? You look rather distracted."

She smiled nervously. "This party is just way fancier than I'm used to. All these rich people. I feel so out of place."

"Relax, Lily. These are just a bunch of clueless people playing dress up and pretending they find each other fascinating. You have just as much right to be here as any of them."

"Thank you, Bob." She took his hand. "I know I haven't been...um, very expressive of how much I appreciate all you've done for me. After what happened...I know those guys probably would have killed me just for being on your side, and I wanted to say I'm grateful." She hated voicing approval for murder, but if she was going to get away long enough to talk to Bobby, she had to get Dwight to trust her.

"I'm glad you feel that way." He brought her hand to his lips.

"Hey, do you really know Troy Zabka?" Goren's large frame moved into Dwight's body space.

Looking irritated, Dwight backed away. "Yes. Why?"

"Yeah, sorry to interrupt, but...that guy's so great, isn't he? He sure knows how to throw a party." Goren snagged a glass of champagne from a server walking by and drank it in one gulp. Then he stuck his hand out toward Dwight. "Alexander Robertsen, Esquire."

Eames didn't even try to hide her amusement.

"You're a lawyer?" Dwight inquired conversationally.

"Defense attorney, but I'm planning a run for district judge next year." He and Agent King had calculated the career carefully: someone less threatening than law enforcement, but who would still gain immediate attention if he disappeared. The run for judge gave him a plausable reason to be at the party, rubbing elbows with some of the city's influential players. "And you are?"

"Daniel White," he said, easily supplying one of his many aliases.

"And who's you're girlfriend?" The ostensible tipsy lawyer looked Eames over with frank approval. His gaze lingered on her legs longer than politeness dictated.

"Lily Corvino," Eames answered, figuring Dwight would be annoyed but understanding if she used what he thought was her own name. It didn't fit her cover to be secretive.

"A pleasure to meet you." Bobby shook her hand, then held it for several more seconds before asking, "Hey...do you want to dance?"

Eames glanced at Dwight. She was sure that he wouldn't let her out of his earshot with a stranger.

Surprisingly, he smiled. "Go ahead. Enjoy yourself. The night's still young."

Eames smiled at him and followed her partner to the dance floor. She was perplexed and a little nervous that Dwight was letting her dance with Bobby. Maybe he was testing her, seeing if she would take the opportunity to escape, or tell the stranger to call the police. He was probably watching her. If not him, Victor would be. She didn't know if either of them could read lips, but she couldn't take the risk. Besides, with so many people close enough to overhear, she and Bobby had to avoid saying anything too suspicious.

"I'm not used to being around this many people," Eames commented to her partner as if she was making smalltalk with someone she just met.

"Really? I would've thought a girl like you gets invited to all kinds of parties." Goren was playing along. He hadn't had a solid plan when he interrupted Dwight and Eames, but when he saw him kiss her hand he couldn't help but step in. His thumb rubbed Eames' hand where Dwight's lips had been, as though trying to wipe away the slime.

"Then you don't know what kind of girl I am," she said.

He chuckled. Turning to her and placing his hand lightly on her waist, he began leading her in the waltz. He had always wanted to dance with her, always wondered what it would feel like to hold her.

Eames surreptitiously scanned the room. She spotted Victor at the far wall, watching her. "I feel so self-conscious. I'm a terrible dancer," she said, hoping he would pick up the hint that they were under observation.

"Your doing fine." He stepped on her shoe, seemingly accidentally. "Sorry...are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, knowing he wasn't asking about her foot. "I just haven't got a lot of sleep lately. I'm a little clumsy." She laughed. "If I'm not careful, I might trip and hurt myself."

A frown of concern briefly crossed Goren's lips. "I won't let that happen," he said.

"Chivalry is dead, but I appreciate the sentiment." She stepped on his foot and stumbled into him, grasping his arms to keep from falling. "I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for stepping on his shoe or for going undercover without telling him, but at that moment he would have forgiven her anything. "It's okay. Remember, I did the same thing to you."

She laughed, but her eyes were overflowing with emotion. She knew he'd been worried about her. And there had been times in the past few days when she'd been afraid she wouldn't live to see him again. She wished she could tell him that.

Goren helped her regain her footing, and they resumed the dance. "It was my fault. Should have been watching my feet."

"I can take care of myself," Eames assured him.

"That doesn't stop me from being concerned."

"Sometimes it's nice to know there's someone there to worry about you. I used to tell my son that when I yelled at him it wasn't because I was angry, it was just because I care about him."

He felt a lump growing in his throat when he realized she was talking about him. He unconsciously pulled her closer, protectively.

She stumbled a little again, and looked down at her feet. "Tell King that Dwight ordered the hit in Atlantic City," she mumbled quickly. Even if Bobby didn't know what she was talking about, he'd get the message to the FBI agent. She looked back up with an apologetic smile.

He gazed at her. "You're so beautiful, Lily. You must feel like all the eyes in the room are on you." He was letting her know that he knew they were being watched.

"Maybe not all of them," she laughed, then moved closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Victor James," she said, still pretending to laugh, "does most of the shooting. He's still carrying the gun."

Goren kept smiling as he tried to think of a way to ask her how much danger she was in.

The song ended.

Eames took a step back. "Thanks for the dance, Mr. Robertsen. Maybe I'll see you around."

She tried to walk away, but he kept hold of her hand, suddenly terrified of letting her go. "One more dance. Please."

Frowning, she looked around for Dwight. When she didn't see him, she decided that two dances wouldn't threaten their covers any more than one had. It was completely consistent with what Lily Corvino and Alexander Robertsen would do. She turned back to him. "Just one more."

He pulled her closer, enjoying the reassuring presence of her body against his. Neither of them spoke this time. Eames closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest. He held her; as long as she was in his arms he knew she was safe.

When the dance was over, he reluctantly let her go. They still didn't say anything, but kept their eyes on each other for a long moment as she walked away.

"You seemed to have a nice chat with Mr. Alexander Robertsen, Esquire," Dwight noted when he found Eames heading for the open bar.

"Yeah, he seems like a decent guy. Came on a little strong, but it was kinda nice to feel interesting to men. Haven't really felt like that since the divorce."

"I was thinking..." His pager began vibrating. When he checked the number, Eames saw it too: 917-555-0803, a New York City area code. Dwight walked away quickly.

Eames turned away and sipped her wine, but listened closely to Dwight's phone call.

"I got the money...Tomorrow. Noon. Same spot as last time...No; There was some trouble back in Jersey. I'll be laying low for a while...Let's just say I'm going to make sure there are enough people who will swear I've been in New York all week...Why? Have they sent someone to replace the last one?...What do I pay you for? Find out!"

It sounded like he was talking to his NYPD contact. Eames decided not to let him know she'd heard him. She slipped into the crowd.

Dwight put away his phone and glanced around, but didn't seem to be looking for her. He spotted whatever he was looking for and headed towards it. Eames considered following him again, but instead decided to find Bobby. She needed to somehow get him this new information.

Goren knew it would look suspicious if he left right after dancing with Eames. Plus, after finding her he really didn't want to leave her again. He got some food, and looked around for some other women he might ask to dance to pass the time and look casual.

"Hello again, Mr. Robertsen."

He turned to see Bob Dwight behind him. "Hi. Where's your girlfriend?"

"She didn't tell you? Lily's not my girlfriend. She works for me."

"Oh. What does she do?"

"This and that. You know, she seems to like you."

"Really? Did she say that?" He sounded hopeful.

"More or less. I could arrange for you to spend some more time with her. Privately."

Goren was suddenly filled with anger and foreboding as he realized what Dwight was trying to do, but he was careful not to show it. "Yeah?" he said neutrally.

"I could arrange a room in the hotel for the two of you. Most of the rooms were reserved weeks ago, but since I'm friends with the owner...of course, it would be fairly expensive tonight. "

Goren looked hesitant.

"It's up to you. But I know for a fact she'd be more than happy to get to know you better."

Eames saw her partner and moved toward him. When she noticed he was talking to Dwight, she circled around so Bobby could see her but Dwight couldn't.

When Goren noticed Eames moving toward them, he glanced at her, then looked around quickly as though to make sure he and Dwight weren't being overheard. He took a step closer. "This would all be legal, right? I mean, it would just be me paying for the room, not for your girl."

Dwight almost laughed. "You're a lawyer. I'm sure you know more about the intricacies of the law than I do. You tell me."

Eames caught on. It explained why Dwight had let her dance with Goren; he'd been setting this up. She quickly realized it would provide a perfect opportunity for her to tell Bobby everything she knew about Dwight's crimes, including the number of his friend in the NYPD. She nodded slightly.

Goren's eyes flicked to her, and then he looked over his shoulder. "How much can you get me the room for?"

"Three thousand."

Goren whistled. "I'm sure it's nice, but maybe not that nice. Can't you get it for me for, say, five hundred?" It made him sick to be bartering over his partner, but he had to stay in character.

"I can maybe bring it down to fifteen hundred," Dwight replied.

"How about an even thousand? Sound fair?"

"Deal."

"It will take me a little bit to get the cash..."

"Be here at midnight. I'll be waiting with your room key in the front lobby."

Bobby rubbed his chin, looking like he was having second thoughts, until Eames disappeared back into the crowd, then he nodded. "I'll see you at twelve." He turned and walked away before he could give in to the temptation to smash Dwight into the ground like the vermin he was.

Dwight found Eames a few minutes later. "How are you enjoying yourself?"

"Do these gigs get any better? Because frankly I'd rather be sleeping, and these shoes are killing me."

He laughed. "Well, I'm sorry but it might be a while. I have a job for you."

"What?"

He steered her out of the ballroom into the empty hall. "That lawyer, Mr. Robertsen, the gentleman you were dancing with?"

"What about 'im?"

"I got a room for him. It comes with you."

"A client. That takes me back."

"If he wins the judge seat he's running for, it might be very advantageous for us to have some footage of him with a convicted prostitute."

"Ah," Eames nodded. "For blackmail."

"I don't like that word."

"And I don't like the word 'prostitute'. It sounds so clinical."

"I apologize." They stepped into an elevator, and Dwight hit the button for the tenth floor. "He'll be up around midnight. That should give you plenty of time to get ready."

He walked her to the room, giving her no chance to find a phone to warn Bobby. Once inside the room, she didn't dare risk it, not knowing whether she was already under surveillance. How was she going to handle this?

If Dwight figured out they were cops, they were both dead.