CHAPTER FOUR
He woke with a start and stared around him. For several seconds his heart pounded and he breathed heavily and rapidly until he remembered where he was.
"Ok…Ok," he thought. "You're all right…You're not back in Tate…You're in a hotel room in Ithaca, New York…Oh…God…I'm in Alex's hotel room…"
Bobby heard a small, strangled cry.
"Alex," he thought and staggered to his feet. His body protested as he stumbled to her bed. He leaned over, hesitated, and carefully placed his hand on her head. He barely brushed her silky hair, but she immediately calmed beneath his touch. Bobby watched as the distress left her face.
"She trusts me," he thought in wonder. "After everything…After all she knows about me…After all I've done to her…She trusts me…"
He tenderly pulled the covers back over her. He allowed his hand to linger on her hair for a moment. He slipped out of her room, made certain her door locked behind him, and went to his own room to try to grab a few hours of sleep.
She fought through the familiar dream, one that usually ended with her at the mercy of Jo Gage, or, worse, with Bobby at the mercy of one of the Gages or Mark Ford Brady. Before the dream could completely seize her, she felt a warm, gentle touch, and the dream cowered from it. She turned into the touch, and its warmth spread through her. She was dimly aware of the covers being pulled over her before she fell into a deep sleep.
Alex knew nothing else until her room's phone rang. She stretched, yawned, and picked up the phone.
"Hey," Bobby's soft voice said. "I'm sorry to wake you up…"
Alex blinked at the bedside clock. "That's ok…I need to get up if we're going to make our meeting with the locals."
"I'll meet you in the lobby…They have free coffee down here…And it's not bad…"
"Bobby…You're already up and dressed? Did you get any sleep last night? You didn't stay up all night looking at the files…"
"Not all night," Bobby answered. "Actually, I fell asleep right after you did…I woke up in the middle of the night and headed to my own room."
"Oh…" Alex smiled. "So you were the one who tucked me in last night."
"Uh…Yea…I'm sorry, Eames…You fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you up…"
"Bobby," Alex said patiently. "You don't have to apologize for letting me sleep. I appreciate it. I'll see you downstairs as soon as I get my shower…"
"Ok…"
As she walked out of the elevator, Alex searched for Bobby. She found him huddled in a large winged back chair in a corner. His binder lay open on the low table in front of the chair, and he was in a deep study of his notes.
"Hey," she said.
Bobby blinked and looked up at her. He appeared to have gotten some sleep, but dark circles were under his eyes. He'd shaved and wore one of his best suits. He'd make a good impression on the cops they were about to meet.
"Hey, yourself," he said. "You need some breakfast. There's a cafeteria in here some place and a bakery around the corner. We've got about a half hour until the locals are supposed to come."
"I'll grab us some bagels or something if you'll call in to Major Case," Alex said.
Bobby picked up his cell. "Yea…Somebody should be in by now…Maybe someone has solved the case…"
After fighting through a crowd of hungry students, Alex returned to find a frowning Bobby scribbling on his pad. He looked up when she placed his bagel in front of him.
"Just the way you like it…Lightly toasted…Peanut butter and cream cheese…" She sat across from him. "So…What's wrong?"
Bobby sighed. "Mark Caldwell…or at least a guy with a variation of that name…Picked up several parking tickets from the Ithaca and Cornell police in recent months…Nothing major…But we did get a license number and a photo…"
"Does he have a record?" Alex bit into her bagel.
"Just starting to check on that…Unfortunately, it's not an uncommon name…"
"Maybe," Alex said. "But I think it's too much of a coincidence that the guy who contacted you and the guy who seems to have stalked Marian Brewster have the same name."
"Yea," Bobby said. "Who am I to be so lucky?"
Before Alex could respond, representatives of the Ithaca and Cornell Police Departments appeared.
By the late afternoon, Alex and Bobby were on a return flight to New York City. The day was long but productive. They knew what Mark Caldwell looked like; they knew, thanks to several members of the Cornell Psychology Department's staff, that Mark Caldwell was the man who had pursued Marian Brewster; and that no one thought him capable of any violence, let along the sort of attack like the one on Marian Brewster. Local cops attempted to locate Caldwell at his most recent job and address, but he'd left both several weeks ago.
"Quiet, polite, can't imagine he'd do anything like this," Alex commented as she scanned several interviews. "All he needs is a middle name…"
"He has one…Gregory…" Bobby said. He shifted unhappily in his seat. The return flight was considerably more populated than the one to Ithaca, and Bobby and Alex were jammed into two seats. Alex was uncomfortable; she could only imagine how Bobby felt.
"What worries me," Bobby continued. "Is that Caldwell isn't covering his tracks. He may think he's so smart that he doesn't have to. He may want us to know who he is, and now he'll hide. Or…he may want to be caught…Of those, I think we want to hope for the first or third."
"You think Marian Brewster was the first victim?"
"I…I don't know…In some ways, it seems like a first…But in others…He seems experienced…But if he's a copycat…I certainly hope she was the first…"
"Ross wants us to talk with Marian's family when we get back," Alex said cautiously. "If we have time and feel like we can face them."
"I'd like to get it over with," Bobby said. "Time is against us…"
"You think he'll do it again…"
"Yea…"
Ross caught them when they stopped briefly at Major Case. "Nothing from the FBI," he reported. "No one seems to be around who dealt with Sebastian…Or at least anyone who wants to talk about it."
Bobby winced. "It was…a major failure for the Bureau. I'm not surprised no one there wants to talk about it."
"The impression I got," Ross said. "Was that the Bureau thinks Sebastian died or is in prison."
"I'll believe that when I see his mug shot or body," Bobby said. "Although no one knew what he looked like."
"You're convinced this Mark Caldwell is your guy? And he's a copycat?" Ross was remarkably matter of fact.
"I think it's a strong possibility," Bobby answered. "If he killed Marian Brewster…which seems likely…Her killing certainly has several trademarks of Sebastian's work…What we know about Caldwell says he's too young to be Sebastian…But he could've learned about the case…"
Ross studied Alex and Bobby for a moment. "You're both doing excellent work on this case, Detectives…But…Remember…If this gets too close…Let me know…"
Alex and Bobby both started to protest, and Ross held up his hands. "I'm not saying you can't deal with it…Like I said…There's no one else I'd want working this…But I don't want it to cost either of you too much…"
Bobby nodded.
"Yes, Sir," Alex said.
"All right," Ross said. "You're going to speak with the Brewsters?"
"Yes, Captain," Alex answered.
"I spoke to them briefly on the phone today," Ross said. "They seem to be good people. They're expecting you…I think they'd appreciate you coming as soon as possible."
"We…We'll be careful with them," Bobby said softly.
"Eames." Another detective approached them. "There's a fax coming in for you."
"Got it," Alex said.
As soon as Alex was out of hearing, Ross turned to Bobby. "How's she doing?"
"Well…She said she slept well last night…And she's doing well working on the case…She…she admitted to me that this case…It brings back memories…But she seems to be handling it…" Bobby shrugged. "But I'm not exactly an unbiased observer."
Ross half-smiled at Bobby's last words. "I may not be entirely objective either. I want to keep you both on this case. But not at too high of a cost…"
Alex, a fax in her hand, returned. "It's from the Cornell police. They confirmed what our IT department found….The emails Mark Caldwell sent Bobby came from a computer in Cornell's main library." She handed the fax to Bobby, who glanced at it.
"I…I need to talk to IT," he said. "Then we can go to the Brewsters."
Ross guided Alex away from Bobby's desk. "Goren says you're doing ok…"
Alex felt slightly irritated, but she recognized Ross' concern. "As well as can be expected, Sir."
"And your partner?"
"He's…He feel s responsible because he didn't respond to Caldwell…But I think he knows that he couldn't have predicted what happened. His work is like it always is…Great…Of course…" She smiled sadly. "I want him to be ok."
Ross nodded. "Good…Good…I want him on this case, Eames. I want both of you. You're the best. And your connections to this case…Well…They're a blessing…"
"I know," Alex said. "And a curse."
Bobby approached them. "Zach at IT is going to try to track down any other computers Caldwell used in the Ithaca area. It's a long shot, and he's probably not in the area, but it's worth a try."
Alex reached for her coat. "We need to get to the Brewsters. Long way to Long Island, especially with the traffic."
"Yea," Bobby said as he picked up his own coat.
"Good luck," Ross said gently.
The drive out to Long Island was long and quiet.
"You have a rare gift for silence, Alex Eames," Bobby finally said.
Alex smiled. "More like I have to concentrate on the road." She took a breath. "Ross is concerned about you…Not in a bad way…Not that he's scared you're going to do something…More like this case is going to hurt you."
Bobby stared out the side window. "He's worried about you, too…In the same way…I told him I thought you were ok."
"I told him the same thing about you," Alex said.
"You…You'll let me know if I'm not ok? 'Cause it's too important…For the case…For Ross…For you…If I screw up."
Alex gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Yea…If you promise to do the same for me…"
"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Bobby said. "But I'm here…for what it's worth."
"It's worth a lot," Alex said quickly. She turned the SUV down a quiet, older residential street. "I think we're going to need each other for this."
Ross was right. The Brewsters were good people. Photos, trophies, medals, and pieces of artwork celebrating and by their children filled their home. Marian, their second child and oldest daughter, appeared in many of the photos, where Alex and Bobby saw her grow from a happy, pretty, little girl to a happy, pretty, young woman. She played sports well enough to receive several awards; she was a good student, good enough to gain several academic awards; and she was a good person, good enough to be in the center of several photos showing her with children at various camps and clinics. Mr. and Mrs. Brewster sat baffled and shocked on the couch in their living room. Their other three children, all blondes like Marian, hovered around them.
As he and Alex sat across from the older Brewsters and politely refused offers of food and drink, Bobby felt the usual combination of puzzlement and envy that accompanied him when he entered happy homes. The murder of this family's daughter had frozen the atmosphere as if a blizzard swept through the house. The Brewsters were heartbreakingly kind. They patiently answered Alex and Bobby's questions, many of which they had already answered a thousand times. All of them looked at the photos of Mark Caldwell, but none recognized him. None of the Brewsters had heard Marian mention his name. Marian had boyfriends, but none was serious and none of the breakups bad.
"Marian is…was…so excited about being accepted into the Master's program," Mrs. Brewster said. "She wanted to work with emotionally disturbed children…Especially those in foster care…She volunteered with a group that tutored kids in foster care…She told us she wanted to help those kids…" She looked up at Alex and Bobby with red-rimmed eyes that brimmed with tears. "Who would do this to my baby? To anyone's baby?"
"I…I don't know, Ma'am," Bobby said, who at that moment hated himself for not being able to answer this unanswerable question.
"You…You think this Caldwell did this to her?" Mr. Brewster asked.
"We're not sure," Alex answered. "But there are some things that connect him to your daughter. We certainly want to talk to him."
"I'm sorry," Bobby said gently. "I promise you…We will do everything we can to find out who did this…I promise you…" He gave his card to Mrs. Brewster. "We will let you know what's going on…And if you want to know anything…Call us…Please…"
He sat heavily in the passenger seat as they prepared to leave.
"It's not your fault," Alex said as she pulled away from the Brewster home.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "He targeted me…Why? If I'd answered him…Marian…"
"Don't think like that," Alex said sharply. "You keep thinking like that, and I'll tell Ross and he'll take you off the case…"
"Maybe…." Bobby muttered.
The shrill ring of his cell phone surprised both of them.
"Yes…When…"
Alex heard a terrible sadness in Bobby's voice.
"No…You did the right thing…No…I don't know anyone…I'd call her lawyer…"
"Who?" Alex thought.
"Yes…Yes…Thank you…Thank you for calling me…I appreciate it…Yes…I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know what's happening…"
He closed his cell phone and slunk back in the seat.
"Bobby…"
"That…That was Jo's doctor…One of them…She died about an hour ago…"
END CHAPTER FOUR