Chapter 4

Even in his own apartment, sleep eluded him. First he thought of Alex, her pain, her anger. He knew the long process she would have to endure to recover was already starting. Eames was a survivor. She would find some kind of a strategy to cope with it, to carry on. Even if that strategy was rage against him, Bobby knew she would come out the other side.

His mind wandered to the reaction of her brother, and he couldn't blame the man for how he felt. Bobby was somebody's brother, too. He imagined the strength of that connection was tenfold for a brother to his sister.

Logan was right, though. What Alex needed was family. They knew her better than anyone, he knew that. No matter how well Bobby Goren pretended to know her, he would never know just the right approach. Her family knew. It was for the best.

Inevitably, his mind replayed everything that had happened in the last week. Why not? There was no one here to stop him. Just Bobby Goren and a glass of whiskey and a slightly messy bachelor pad.

He lived it all again, from the handholding to the kiss, to the first inklings it might be Sebastian. Then he remembered Dec showing up, and Alex's efforts to cover for him with the Captain. He remembered how disappointed she was when he decided to meet with Declan. He recalled the routine goodbye when she'd left him in the AV room, just before she was taken.

Then the torture came back upon him, and he tried to push it away, but without another soul in the apartment, he couldn't distract himself. All that time, running down one lead and then another, terrified when Dec insisted Alex was dead and he needed to get into the killer's head.

God, he was going to be sick.

Bobby forced the bile back into his throat by downing the rest of the whiskey in one huge gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

The body in the trunk of the car…

Bobby had to grab the counter and steady himself. He gasped for air, wondering how he had ever survived that moment.

He felt guilty for being relieved at the sight of the video clerk's dead body. Just remembering it brought the flood of relief again. Bobby was ashamed of himself.

He slammed an angry palm against the veneer of the kitchen cabinet and spun around 180 degrees. Bobby lurched to the living room, where he commenced pacing back and forth through his small living area.

God, and Dec! Bobby froze in place as he relived the conversation. They'd been in the interview room. Dec had threatened to lawyer up, and Bobby had stalled Declan's arrest. He tried to step away from his old mentor, but he'd gone back in. He'd gone back in and talked with the old man anyway.

A shiver went through him as he realized he knew exactly when Declan had cracked the case.

"What's the timeline from last night?"

"Amanda, the-the-the girl in the trunk, the first wounds were midnight to two a.m. The lethal wounds weren't until dawn."

"She's in tact, no trophies!" Declan cried.

"Hey! Cut it out!" Bobby'd commanded, slamming the folder shut over the photograph of the girl's body. "It's that gap… to two a.m. It's when he… could have went to get Eames."

Declan had worked his theory with Bobby, as if he wasn't supposed to care that his best friend was the one they were talking about.

"…and then… something… must have interrupted…"

"My phone call. To you. I mean, that's why you never came back."

If Bobby hadn't been 7 hours past exhaustion, if he hadn't been completely consumed with worry, he would have seen the wheels turning in Declan's head. He would have seen that the old man had figured it out. He would have seen the shift from uncovering the story to covering it up.

Instead, he'd thought only of Alex. He realized Declan knew something, but he'd completely missed the mark. He'd slammed Dec against the wall, demanding to know where Eames was, and then the blank look in Gage's eyes had told him the truth: he didn't know.

Bobby knocked the side of his head against the moulding of the doorframe. It hurt, and that felt good. He did it again. Then he slid into a heap on the floor, half in and half out of his bedroom.

Bobby grasped the sore place on his head and knotted his fingers into his short hair. His chest heaved, and he fell apart.

He'd failed her. At the moment she needed him most, he'd been as blind as a bat.

"Lex?"

"What."

"You've got to eat something. Can't live off that tube in your arm," Johnny said.

"'s been fine til now," she grumbled.

"C'mon now, aren't you hungry?" Johnny coaxed.

Alex's anger got the best of her. "No! No, damn it, I'm not hungry!" she shouted.

Her outburst was met with silence. After what seemed like an eternity, her brother shifted his feet. "Okay."

Alex's face contorted, and she cried.

Johnny's hand was on her arm, and he whined, "C'mon, Lexie, don't."

His hand aggravated her sore muscles, and gave her the distraction she needed to stop the bawling. She sniffled and held her breath until she'd managed to regain control. "You… you don't know," was all she told him.

"So tell me," Johnny said, but his sister just turned her face away.

Bobby had almost pulled himself together when the answering machine kicked on. He heard the long beep and the last voice he wanted to hear was amplified in his apartment. The man actually sounded excited.

"Bobby, I've been talking to Jo. It's fascinating! The pieces were all there, and I never gave her a second thought! You know, the pieces were there for you, too. All the elements were there. You could have gone either way. I told her that once." Declan chuckled. "I suppose we never see the forest for the trees, hey Bobby? Oh, uh, anyway. Give my condolences to your partner...or perhaps congratulations are more appropriate..."

The grief on his face turned rapidly to anger. Bobby heaved himself to his feet and made it to the answering machine in two strides. He ripped the thing right out of the wall and dropped it to the floor with a satisfying crunch.