Chapter 19

Toxicology came back, and she was positive for Rohypnol. Since she hadn't been raped, it only confirmed what Bobby had said before: The whole thing was planned ahead of time.

As they discussed it, they realized Trish had been under the influence of Rohypnol, as well.

A call came through for Bobby on the office phone. Bobby headed for his desk, and Eames stayed back, discussing the case with the Captain.

"Oh, it's amateur hour here today," his mother said. She sounded weak, tired. "The doctors, the nurses, they talk to me like I'm an idiot."

Bobby listened, and he could feel his heart breaking.

"I'm telling you I've had it with these people. If you don't come soon, I'm… I'm walking out," she said, but she sounded as if she couldn't possibly find the energy to do it. She hung up the phone before Bobby could speak.

"Mom," he said, too late to do any good.

They pieced it together, that Ashton was an accomplice, even though he'd never served in Iraq with Wesley. Bobby managed to shove his personal problems aside, and focus on the case. It all started to make sense. It had to do with loyalty, with the kind of loyalty that came with a uniform. He lost his temper once, interrupting Ashton and telling him he didn't have time for it.

CID came through for them, and soon they had the real motive: an ambush, and an act of vengeance, and then a cover-up. They brought Carl back, got Amanda's side of the story. Sure enough, she'd been upset by the whole mess. Carl fell apart. He realized his mistake, and felt the guilt that he may have contributed to her death.

Bobby saw the Commissioner watching the crying man, and he bristled. "Well, it's hitting him hard. Maybe you should console him, Commissioner. He was almost your son-in-law."

"My daughter's dead, detective. I don't owe anyone my sympathy right now." Ross looked over the man and gave Bobby a look of warning.

"Well, maybe you never do. Maybe that's why Amanda didn't tell you the whole story." Bobby couldn't seem to shut his mouth. He was sick of giving his time to this man, when he really needed to be somewhere else.

"Detective," Ross warned.

Dockerty was offended. "What do you know about my daughter?! Or about what kind of father I am?!"

Goren should have apologized, but the whole thing just pissed him off. He groaned and headed for the office door. "Well," he said. "As little as you know about who I am," he replied, and walked out.

Eames heard him from her seat at her desk, and she mashed her lips together. Bobby was really digging himself into a hole, now.

"Detective, you're out of line!" Ross called after him.

Quietly, Bobby marched to his desk. He picked up his binder, and a book he'd been studying, then he set both back down and swiped everything, including the phone, onto the floor. Then scratched his head and stomped right out of the squad room.

Alex buried her emotions and went into damage control-mode. She drew everyone back to the case. "Whatever happened over there, they must have been afraid Amanda would talk about it when she came home."

The Commissioner was furious, but he directed it all at Wesley. Ross promised the man would be in the city in two hours.

Alex went after Bobby. She put it together. He was starting to self-destruct. She caught him at the elevators, where he was impatiently mashing the buttons with his finger. "What the hell was that, Bobby?" she demanded, not bothering to hide her anger.

He didn't answer. He didn't even look that remorseful.

"You want to throw it all away? Just, I know—" She said as he started to walk into the elevator car.

"Back off," he warned, sounding nothing like the man she knew. He wouldn't look at her. He kept his eyes to the floor, shaking his head as the doors shut.

Bobby rode the car all the way to the lobby and left the building. He'd heard enough. Burkhartz was being brought in by mule, and he was stuck in the city until the man arrived, until they interrogated him, until the job was done, until Ross decided to release Bobby from this nightmare of a case.

Meanwhile his mother was suffering. She was suffering physically and emotionally and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Well, the only thing he could do was exactly what she'd asked. Come. Only he couldn't come, not until this damned case was behind him.

The cold wind cut into him, and he pulled his overshirt together and folded his arms across his chest. Bobby took a long walk in the chilly November air.

Dockerty was alone with Burkhartz in holding, and Eames was worried it wouldn't go well. Ross knew the Commissioner, and he promised her the man would play it by the book.

It was then that Bobby reappeared, looking calmer, but not much better.

"Had time to cool off?" Ross asked, and Bobby nodded.

They waited in silence until Dockerty returned, announcing that Burkhartz was a cold-blooded killer. "He killed my daughter," he told them.

"He didn't confess?" Bobby asked.

"No."

A few minutes later, Goren and Eames were headed for their desks. "It's hard to get a confession if he's incapable of guilt. Maybe we should tell him that he's got nothing to feel guilty about?"

Alex was still angry. "You do that," she said, and walked away.

Bobby reached out for his chair. He braced his palms against the desk and chewed the inside of his cheek. He guessed he deserved that.

Burkhartz continued with his name, address, and date of birth ad nauseum. Bobby blew past it and asked him about the soldiers, the victims of the ambush. Safe territory. They'd been killed by Iraqis.

Burkhartz answered.

Bobby drew on his own Army experience. He called the men Wesley's brothers. He noted details of the horror of their deaths.

"You were their squad leader. It was your fault," Eames said.

"No! No." Wesley countered. "I was acting on a tip. A sergeant in the Iraqi Army told me he had, uh, good intel from a reliable source. Some hostiles holed up in a house nearby."

"You raided that house. There was an ambush," Bobby said quietly, sympathetically. "These guys only had a few days before they went home."

Alex showed the CID pictures of the executed Iraqis. Bobby asked what was in the pictures.

"War," Wesley said, plain as day.

"When Tyrone and David were hit, you did what a hero would do." Bobby nodded at him. "You investigated this."

"Army's short-staffed. No CID where we were."

"Right," Bobby said. "But… they were shot in the back of the head. At close range. What I can't figure out is… how did the insurgents get so close without this unit putting up its guard?"

"C'mon, you're not buying this, are you? This guy has no respect for the law. It wasn't insurgents. US soldiers killed those Iraqi soldiers." Alex, who'd never been in the military, was incensed.

"Eames," Bobby warned.

"The report concluded it was insurgents," Burkhartz said.

"But your unit wrote that report."

She'd shut him down. Bobby closed his mouth and looked from his partner over to Wesley.

"What about Amanda? Her name's not on the report."

Burkhartz wasn't so unemotional now. He wasn't detached. He was a human being, who, thanks to Bobby, was reminded that he had a noble reason for what he'd done. "She thought things might have happened differently."

Bobby continued his sympathetic tack. "Yeah, she betrayed her brothers. I thought that you would've talked to her. You know? Especially since you were having an affair."

"Didn't matter to her. Headstrong type."

"She was sticking up for the Iraqis. She's lucky she didn't get killed by friendly fire."

"Did your brothers ask you to keep an eye on her?" Alex asked.

"I wanted to talk some sense into her," Wesley admitted.

"But she was headstrong," Bobby said, "and she thought she was being a hero."

"I just wanted to talk to her," Wesley said, "That's… but she was insistent. She… she kept saying she was going to talk to her Dad."

"You couldn't let her do that, of course. You couldn't take the risk of another traitor being in your midst," Bobby added.

"I didn't want to hurt Amanda."

Bobby nodded. "I know. I believe you."

They continued, and within minutes had enough of a confession. The unis came in and cuffed him, took him back to holding.

Alex closed the two folders in front of her and walked out without a word to Bobby. She was still upset with him.

Bobby stayed a moment longer, collecting his own files. His emotions were roiling. He was relieved it was over, he was worried about his Mom, and he was off-balance with Alex's anger. Bobby stood and as he headed back to his desk, all of the emotions gelled into one: anger.

Alex was waiting for him. She was putting things back into perspective now, and wanted to give him some kind of an olive branch. Bobby walked right past her before she had the chance to say anything.

Ross was business as usual, barking out orders. "Good job, detectives, if you can get me your paperwork, you can—"

"You can save it, all right?" Bobby snapped. "I'm leaving."

Alex's face fell, and Bobby kept walking. He tossed his binder on the desk as he walked past. "You want to fire me… fire me, I don't care."

Alex watched him until he was out of sight, and felt her gut clench. He was self-destructing. And right now, at this moment, she didn't blame him for it.

Ross hadn't moved, either. He too, had watched Bobby's dramatic exit, too stunned to do anything about it. Alex turned to him, and he quietly rolled his eyes and headed for his office.

With a frown, Alex went to her desk. She'd roll out the paperwork, and then maybe after she went home, she'd give him a call.