Chapter 5

It was 8 o'clock, Monday morning and Alex Eames had just stepped off the elevator onto the 11th floor of One Police Plaza. She expected to see her partner already at his desk, hard at work, sloughing his way through the mountains of paperwork that the arrest and eventual confession of the girlfriend of a congressional aide, for his death.

Alex knew better than most, not to 'expect' a certain course of action from her partner. If she'd learned anything from working with Bobby all these years, was never to assume anything, ever – in a case, or with him. It was still surprising that all that greeted her when she reached her desk, was her partner's empty desk.

Risking a quick glance towards the Captain's office, she was relieved to see that Ross was alone. At least she didn't have to worry about another complication between those two. Alex removed her jacket and sat down, momentarily staring at the empty desk of her partner. It was a sight that sent chills down her spine. She sighed, wondering what trouble Bobby was getting into now. Not even able to guess, she reached for the first folder on her desk and flipped it open.

"Morning Eames." Bobby said as he flipped open his notebook. She hadn't even noticed him slide into his chair across from her.

Glancing at her watch, she smirked as she replied, "Don't you mean afternoon?"

Bobby's head popped up and a genuine look of confusion greeted her. "What? What are you talking about? It's only 8 o'clock."

"And on any other normal 8 o'clock Monday morning, you've usually been in for a couple of hours. I've never known you to just be on time." Alex watched him, watched for his reaction.

Giving nothing away, he merely shook his head and stood, asking as he started to walk away, "Do you want some coffee?"

Shaking her head, she admitted, "I'm still working on this one." She grabbed her cup and sipped the still hot contents. Watching him as he crossed the room, she found herself wondering about his weekend. Had he discovered more about his mysterious letter writer? Somehow, she thought he had. She didn't find it a comforting thought.

Hours later, the two detectives stood in Captain Ross's office as he flipped through the case file. "This was good work, you two. Send it over to the DA's office." Ross handed the file back to Alex. "Why don't you two take the rest of the day."

"Thanks Captain." Alex glanced over at Bobby as she answered for the team. She knew the signs of his preoccupation better than anyone, he was chomping at the bit to get out of here today. He was always a bit more fidgety when confined to the office, but today had been even worse than normal. She was convinced she knew the reason why, but there was yet a little investigating to do before she would be safe in 'assuming' that, before she would sit him down and have a cautionary talk with him.

The two detectives stood and left their Captain's office. Bobby quickly set to clearing off his desk, putting everything in its place. As Alex stood watching, she repeatedly slapped the folder against her thigh. Finally daring to break the silence, and broached the topic that had had her biting her tongue all morning.

"One, you're in an awful hurry to get out of here – that's fairly unusual for you. Two, you were late this morning..." Bobby's head popped up, mouth open. "and before you say anything, 8:00 o'clock is late – for you. Years of detective work have taught me to recognize a change in patterns, a change in behavior."

Bobby looked at his hands, now clasped, his interlaced fingers resting on the top of his desk. He knew what was coming. If she wants to play this game…fine. I can play along, but for only so long. "A change of pattern and behavior? Then Detective, based on your 'years of detective work', what would you most likely attribute this 'change in pattern, change of behavior' to?"

"At a guess - and at this point, that's all I can do - but I'd say that you'd discovered more about your your mysterious letter writer is. Like, who she is." Even though her comments were statements, both knew that all she was doing was ... fishing.

Bobby sat silently for a moment before acknowledging her comments with a small nod, "Her name is Hope Thornton."

Alex sat down, stunned. "You've met her?" Even though this is was she suspected, it was still not what she expected to hear. With anyone else, that wouldn't make sense, but with Bobby Goren...

"Yes. Friday night. I went to her apartment. I saw her again on Saturday and Sunday. The whole weekend. And hopefully again tonight." He admitted quietly.

"Bobby…" She knew she hadn't been successful in keeping the note of concern out of her voice. Bobby was so alone - a little lost, a little vulnerable, a little fragile. All of which seemed at odds with the man's physical presence, but it was there. While the exchange of letters had seemed mostly harmless, so far, there was still that element of stalker-ish behavior that greatly concerned her. Frankly she was mystified at Bobby's casualness about this. Both had seen too many examples of what could happen given a set of similar circumstances.

"I know what you're going to say, but really, don't worry. I have thought this through. I thought it through before I ever went over to her place. There's nothing to worry about." Bobby stood as he continued, "It's okay, Eames. I'll see you tomorrow." Standing he looked over at her. "You're going to have to trust me on this, Eames. It's under control."

Realizing she had no hope of stopping him, knowing nothing she could say would stop him, she pressed her lips together, bit her tongue and nodded. "Yeah, okay... I'll see you tomorrow."

Alex slumped down onto her chair, arms on her desk. Leaning forward, she nestled her chin into her upturned palm, as she watched her partner's progress to the elevator. As he disappeared from her sight, she reached for her phone. Fingers drumming on the receiver, she realized she didn't know when she'd first made the conscious decision to call asking for his help, but she had already told him to expect her call, somehow knowing that she was going to need the help. The last bit of her hesitance vanished as she picked up the receiver and dialed...

Ira welcomed the distraction of the ringing telephone, the tedium that had been his latest work project - one that had been ongoing for the last several days - broken, if only for a moment.

"Whipple." He acknowledged as he spoke into the receiver.

"Ira, it's Eames. I have a name for you - Hope Thornton. I need you to work your magic with that computer of yours and find out everything you can about her. From the day she was born all the way through to tomorrow. Everything. And I need it now."

"It's going to take awhile, detective. I do actually have a job to do around here, too." Ira looked at his empty desk, and then to the stack of reports on the floor reaching up to the top of his desk, secretly glad that Detective Eames had called. Otherwise, he'd be reduced to mindless data entry work, re-entering a years' worth of ComStat reports and analysis that had somehow vanished from the data file on the master frame. He'd much rather work on Eames' mysterious case.

"Then get your buddy, Simmons to help you…" Two computer geeks were better than one. She realized she was asking a lot, and while she didn't want to get anyone in trouble, this did have the possibility of blowing up in her face. She didn't want to feel responsible for anyone else's reprimands or worse, firings. But she knew she had to see this through and there was no turning back. Both these guys had helped Bobby once before, and no one had found out about their "helping". Someone had to look out for her partner, and he'd made it perfectly clear over the years, that in certain situations, he wasn't any good at looking out for himself. If not her, then who?

"Text me anything you find as soon as you get it, no matter how small. I'd rather get it piecemeal, than not get anything until you've found everything. I need this to be an organized, comprehensive, but quickly compiled set of facts. But I still need everything. As soon as possible."

As soon as Eames hung up, Ira reached for his personal laptop. Whatever this was about, he felt sure that he didn't want anyone being able to trace anything back to his NYPD computer. He booted up the search program that he'd written and began typing, H – O – P – E, into the search field and hit ENTER.

While he waited for the first bit of data to pop up, he picked up the phone and dialed Josh's extension, "Hey, Josh, it's Ira. You up to your neck on anything?"

"Kinda… I'm pulling financials in the Richard Knox case. It looks like there might be an insurance angle to it – 'key man' policy. You see, his partner had just taken... "

Ira cut him off, Josh could get so excited about following the trail, he didn't always know when to stop talking. "Eames called, with a name. Needs her whole history ASAP."

Ira knew that Knox had been a Broadway producer who'd be found dead during the opening night performance of a new play he'd been backing. He also knew that it was Logan's case, which meant it was Detective Falacci's as well. She wouldn't be shy about saying anything if she had to wait longer for results than she deemed necessary.

"Eames called, with a name. Needs her whole history ASAP."

"What's the case? I can work in a search as long as she doesn't need a full briefing about what it means." Josh waited for an answer.

Slowly, it dawned on him. "There's no case, is there Ira?" Even though he couldn't see his friend, he knew he was shaking his head 'no'. What was it about Goren and Eames?

Looking at the piles of reports on his desk, Josh took a deep breath before replying, "Give me an hour, I'll be down to see you." After he hung up, he realized, Ira had never answered his question.

............Chapter 6 - should be coming soon .................