a/n:…please don't hate me…going to hell for this chapter, I think
Law and Order: Criminal Intent
High Maintenance
Chapter Seven
Winter of Discontent
Goren sat on the floor next to the couch, head propped on his hand. He had been watching his partner sleep for the better part of forty minutes, having been pulled from his light slumber by a soft yet painful moan from Eames. The blanket Goren used to cover her when she first drifted off was wound tightly in her fingers. Her brow was furrowed and she was starting a restless toss.
"Stop…please," she whispered. Goren shifted to rest on his knees and gently moved her hair from her face.
"Eames," he said quietly. "Eames, wake up." He lightly brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. "Alex…Wake up." Eames stirred under his touch, eyes slowly opening. "Hey, sleepy," he smiled. Eames took a deep breath and met Goren's eyes.
"What the hell are you still doing here?"
"I so enjoyed our fight, I thought I'd wait here for round two." Eames rolled her eyes and sat up, crossing her legs under the blanket. Goren sat on the couch in front of her. "You were talking in your sleep, saying 'stop'."
"I had the nightmare again," she said, rubbing her eyes. "I, uh, didn't wake up screaming this time, though." She looked at Goren again. "What time is it?"
"Almost two. You've been sleeping for about three hours."
"You should go home."
"By the time I get home, I'll have to turn around to pick you up for work." Goren shook his head. "I don't want to leave you alone. I'm worried about you." He rested his hand on Eames' shoulder. She shrugged him away.
"I'm fine." She stood. "I'm going to bed. Go home." Goren watched Eames stalk out of the room. He smiled, sure he heard her mutter the words 'jack ass' before she slammed the bedroom door. Goren grabbed the blanket, settling himself on the couch. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, setting the alarm, and placed it on the floor. He had no doubt the morning would bring another long day with his partner.
0-0-0-0
"Are you sure you don't want something to eat?"
"Yeah, Mrs. Letner. I'm fine." Connie dropped his backpack on the couch. "Thank you, though."
"Honey, I'm so sorry." Mrs. Letner stepped forward enveloping Connie in a tight hug. He dropped his head to her shoulder, tears flowing uncontrollably.
"Do, huh, do the cops know who did this?" he asked pulling back slightly.
"I don't know. They wouldn't be able to tell me anything, though. I'm not family."
"You are to me," Connie smiled. "My aunt…She really liked you. She said you reminded her of her mother." Mrs. Letner returned Connie's smile.
"They were good people, Sweetheart. Be proud to have been raised by them. They did a good job." She raised her hand, covering Connie's cheek. "If you'll excuse me for just a moment, I need to make a quick phone call."
"Of course," Connie nodded. He took a seat on the couch next to his backpack. He dug through the front pocket, pulling out an old beaten-up picture. He was young, only seven, when it was taken. He was smiling, wrapped in the arms of his aunt and uncle.
It was the day his mother left him and the day he found what he had been denied – a loving family. The Hales had done so much for him and he made their lives a living hell. The last seven years were spent rebuilding bridges, regaining trust. Now he would never have their forgiveness. He would never be able to prove to his aunt and uncle that he truly loved them.
Connie ran a hand through his hair and released a breath he didn't know he was holding. He returned the picture to the backpack and looked up as Mrs. Letner entered the room.
"I'm glad you found an earlier flight into town," she said, sitting next to him. "And I know it's late, but Sargent Millward is on his way over to talk with you."
"Why now? It's almost two in the morning, Mrs. Letner. Haven't I kept you up long enough tonight?" Connie laughed.
"Don't worry about me, Silly," she said, playfully smacking his arm. "I wanted Sargent Millward to prepare you for your talk with the detectives tomorrow." Mrs. Letner looked to the phone in her hands. "I left a message for Detective Goren…Maybe he can come here tomorrow so we don't have to make the trip. You really shouldn't be roaming around after such a long flight."
"Two flights," Connie joked. "I'll be okay with Detective Goren. He and I have gone around once before."
"Yes," Mrs. Letner nodded, "under very different circumstances." She turned her attention to a knock at the door. "That's Sargent Millward." She rose and opened the door. Millward stepped inside, smiling softly at Connie.
"I'm so sorry about your aunt and uncle," he said, shaking the young man's hand.
"Thank you, Sir. Do the detectives know who's responsible?"
"No, Connie. Though I suspect they'll have their answers really soon." He motioned to Mrs. Letner. "Please, both of you sit. There's really only one thing I need to tell you for the morning." As Mrs. Letner settled herself on the couch next to Connie, Millward drew his side arm, firing one shot at the woman's head.
"What the hell!" Connie screamed, jumping to his feet. The second shot fired hit Connie square in the chest, throwing him to the floor. "N-no… Please, please don't."
The third shot silenced Connie's pleas.
0-0-0-0
Detective Nichols stepped into the conference room, removing his coat and draping it over the back of an empty chair. He crossed his arms over his chest as he moved to study the pictures on the cork board.
"Good morning." Nichols turned towards the door.
"Good morning, Goren. Ross says you have quite a case here."
"You could say that." Goren dumped his binder on the table and joined Nichols by the board. "I appreciate you helping with this." He handed Nichols the autopsy file.
"I'm more than happy to do so." Nichols looked over the papers as the two sat at the table. "Cow's blood, huh?"
"None of the slaughter houses in the area have reported anything missing."
"Of course."
"Gentlemen." Goren and Nichols looked up as their captain entered the room. "Your three girls haven't had any contact with Connie. They all died six years ago."
"How?" Goren asked, shaking his head.
"Believe it or not, Tina died from the flu. According to the prison's physician, she didn't report her symptoms right away and was suffering from severe dehydration when she was finally taken to see the doctors." Ross paused, finger tapping on the edge of the table. "Claudia and Carolyn committed suicide three months after Tina's death." Goren sighed.
"Okay, okay. So that's…that's another avenue closed."
"Excuse me, Detective Goren?" A young woman appeared in the door way, handing Goren a piece of paper. "This message came in for you early this morning." Goren took the paper, thanking the woman as she left.
"Connie's in town. He came in around one this morning." He looked to Nichols. "Mrs. Letner wants us to go to her house to speak with him."
"Detectives, we have no prints, no murder weapons, no other suspects…If you don't get what you need out of Connie today…I'm sorry, it's over." The two detectives nodded. "Will Eames be riding along?"
"Of course I will be," she said from behind Ross. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Considering the tirade the two of you shared yesterday, I wasn't sure you were on speaking terms." Eames looked past her captain, glaring an accusing look in Goren's direction.
"We're not," she said firmly.
"All right, I'm tired of this," Ross said looking between Goren and Eames. "The two of you need to work this out, now. I don't need this…whatever it is getting in the way of this case. I think we are all agreed you're on thin enough ice as it is. Get your shit together and get your day started." Ross left the room.
"Um, let's go," Nichols said quietly. "I can read your notes on the way." He hung back by Goren's side as they followed Eames to the elevators. "What did you do to her?" he asked smiling.
"What did I do? What makes you think I started this?" Goren shook his head as Nichols shrugged. The doors to the elevator were not fully closed when Eames whipped around and pinned Goren with furious eyes.
"What the hell was that? Are you trying to get me taken off this case, Bobby?" she asked stepping closer to him.
"No, Eames, I…"
"You 'what'?" she sneered. Nichols cleared his throat and pushed his way into the small space between Goren and Eames. He put his hands on Eames arms and walked her backwards.
"Alex," he scolded softly. "Let's just get the interview with Connie taken care of and, afterwards, if you want to kick Goren's ass, he's all yours." The elevator doors opened revealing the parking garage. Nichols turned Eames and guided her through the doors. When the trio reached the SUV, Eames jumped into the back seat and slammed the door.
"Thanks a lot," Goren muttered across the hood of the vehicle. Nichols smiled and opened the passenger door.
0-0-0-0
"I'm still not getting an answer from Mrs. Letner." Eames closed her phone.
"What are the odds we're walking into a nasty little trap?" Nichols asked.
"I'd say odds are pretty good." Goren parked the SUV. "We need to go in armed. Connie won't do anything in potential view of others. He'll wait until we're in the house." Exiting the vehicle, ready to draw their side arms, the three carefully approached the house. "We clear the rooms together."
"I'll go first," Nichols said quietly. Goren knocked on the door.
"Mrs. Letner, it's Detective Goren," he called. He paused, hoping to hear an answer from within. Checking if Eames was ready, he drew his firearm then nodded to Nichols. Goren turned the knob, throwing open the door, Nichols faltering briefly as he caught site of two bodies. Once satisfied the house was empty, the detectives stood in the center of the living room. Eames grabbed her phone and moved to the doorway.
"What were you saying about avenues being closed?" Nichols moved to Mrs. Letner's side. "Single shot just above the right eye." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and removed the phone from her hand.
"They were both murdered. Connie was shot once in the chest, once in the head." Goren stood. He pointed to the bullet hole in the wall. "This would be higher if the wounds were self-inflicted."
"The number on the redial is the main line to 1PP."
"Sargent Millward is on his way. Rodgers is coming, too." Eames looked at Mrs. Letner's body then to the backpack on the couch. "Where do we go now?" she asked rifling through the pockets.
"This doesn't make any sense," Goren said, watching as she pulled a change of clothing and a picture from the backpack. "That's all there is?" Eames nodded. She shoved the clothes into the backpack and wandered into the kitchen.
"Goren?" Nichols joined Goren's side. "Clearly Connie is not the one trying to get your attention." Goren nodded. "In light of this…"
"I don't know."
"Detectives? Oh, my goodness…" Millward entered the house, hand over his mouth.
"Uh, this is Detective Nichols. Sargent Millward." The two exchanged nods. "Mrs. Letner left a message for me early this morning asking to speak with Connie here at the house instead of at the station. This is what we walked into." Millward shook his head.
In the kitchen, Eames opened a smaller cabinet drawer and pulled out a handful of envelopes. She leaned a hip against the countertop, sifting through phone and electric bills.
"Find anything good?" Eames jumped at the voice in her ear.
"No, Sargent, I haven't." She put the envelopes back into the drawer. "Just bills."
"Hmm, too bad." Eames frowned, moving to the side to put some distance between her and Millward. "Hey, hey. Don't go away," he smiled, following her.
"You need to back—"
"You need to calm down." Millward ran his hands over Eames' shoulders. "I'm not gonna hurt you." He leaned closer. "Yet." Eames pushed him away and started back towards the living room. "Don't walk away from me." Millward grabbed Eames, pulling her back roughly.
"Let go!" she screamed. Eames lifted her hands, smashing them down across Millward's nose.
"Bitch!"
"Let go! Let go!" Goren and Nichols came rushing into the kitchen, both tearing Eames from Millward's arms.
"She broke my fucking nose!" Millward yelled. Nichols held Millward back as Goren took Eames outside.
"See, the thing is Eames doesn't break noses without good reason. What happened?"
"I don't think she heard me come in. I think I scared…I scared her."
"And why did she have to yell for you to let her go?"
"I was just trying to calm her down. She just went crazy." Nichols released Millward.
"I think you'd better go. We'll handle this case by ourselves." Millward straightened his shirt and walked out. Fucking bitch," he mumbled, wiping his sleeve under his nose.
0-0-0-0
"What the hell was that all about?" Goren asked angrily.
"He fucking grabbed me!" Eames spat.
"Grabbed you how?"
"Grabbed me! Like…like…" She eyed Goren accusingly. "Like you did last night."
"Eames…" Goren opened and closed his mouth, not knowing how to respond. "I hope you know I would…I would never, never hurt you like that. I was just—"
"Being an ass, I know," she finished. "I don't know what he was doing." Millward came through the front door, passing without a glance to either detective. He hopped into his vehicle and sped away. Goren smiled as he turned back to Eames.
"The guy looks good with a broken nose."
"How are we doing?" Nichols asked, stepping next to Eames.
"I'm fine."
"Did he hurt you at all?"
"No." Eames refused to look at Goren or Nichols, but Goren didn't need to see her face to know how angry she was.
0-0-0-0
"I know you're upset, Eames," Goren started.
"Upset? Upset! I am so beyond upset! He-he gets in my face, says he won't hurt me, 'yet' and…" Eames took a deep breath. No one paid attention to the door opening.
"You broke his nose," Nichols said quietly.
"I had every right to defend myself."
"Eames?" Ross called from the doorway.
"Every right!"
"Eames!"
"What!" She turned, closing her eyes and cursing silently as she realized she yelled at her captain. Ross raised an eyebrow.
"You just earned yourself a trip to my office." Eames opened her mouth to argue. "Go, now," Ross said firmly. Eames shoved her chair aside and left the observation room. Ross closed the door. "I just received a very…interesting call from Sargent Millward's supervisor. When the hell were you going to tell me about this?"
"We were trying to calm her down, first," Nichols offered.
"So is it true that she 'went crazy' like Millward claims?"
"We didn't see it happen," Nichols replied.
"She said he grabbed her and—"
"I heard that part of the story…from half way down the hall." Ross opened the door. "You have twenty-four hours to find a lead. As far as Eames goes, she's off the case. Do you still have her keys?" Ross reached out his hand. Goren obliged, handing over the keys.
"These are mine, actually. Her spare set."
"Get back to work."