Chapter 29

Reverend Cal Riggins arrived in a flurry. He wasn't happy to find they had a search warrant, but it appeared that he'd finally given up on the lies. The Church Elder, Roberts, interrupted, told them he knew the DVD was gone. Cal seemed truly surprised. "You knew about this?" he asked. "Is that true?!" he demanded of the man.

It looked like Roberts was their newest suspect. When he said he was calling a lawyer, Eames decided they would bring him in for questioning.

In interrogation, things were looking good until Bobby tossed the DVD across the room, an obvious left-handed catch. Roberts wasn't able to raise his arm to even come close to catching it. He had a rotator cuff injury and couldn't have been the one who shook Marjorie.

Roberts provided them with cell phone video of the prostitute Diego at the event. Now he was back at the forefront again. Roberts and the Church lawyer left the interrogation room. Bobby turned toward Alex and scratched his head.

She was angrily replacing items in her file folders. "We, uhm, need to bring him back in," Bobby said. He reached for his binder and tidied it up.

"Saturday night," she said. "We won't be able to find him. Busy night for rent-boys. Better to wait, we can get him tomorrow. I'll get Ross to help me."

Bobby zipped the binder shut and nodded.

Alex put her hand on his back. "You have a date with your Mom tomorrow."

He nodded again. They didn't speak any more until they were out of the interrogation room, away from the built-in PA system. "You coming over?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. "I, uh… I need to get Mom a gift. You know, and maybe another coat."

She nodded too. "I'll walk you downstairs."

He stood in front of the church from 11:30 until 12:20. Finally, cold from his ears to his toes, Bobby decided Frank had stood him up. Angry, disappointed, worried, and hurt, Bobby dropped into the mustang and drove to Carmel Ridge.

He told himself he'd talk around it. He told himself maybe his mother wouldn't remember, wouldn't expect Frank and so wouldn't be disappointed. He told himself that maybe she would have told herself Frank wouldn't show, the same way he and Alex had.

She was asleep when he arrived. He checked with the staff and found she was starting to decline, in spite of the treatments. He set the large box that contained her birthday present on her bedside table and sat down in the chair beside her to wait. After 5 minutes thinking about the experimental treatment he'd read about this morning, he loosened his tie. After 5 more minutes, he took it off completely and put it in his pocket. 5 minutes after that, he unfastened the top button of his shirt.

The tv was droning in the background. She always had it on. He couldn't blame her. She devoured books, finishing most in less than a day. Without a regular visitor to keep her in literature, there was nothing left to occupy her mind but the television.

He heard her shift beside him and he turned his head. Bobby offered her a smile. "Happy birthday, Ma," he said softly.

She smiled at him. "Bobby." As she pushed herself more upright, her next words were "Where's Frank?"

"He, uh… he was running late. I, I don't think he's gonna make it."

"He'll be here," she said.

Bobby sat with her, trying to make smalltalk. His leg was bouncing unceasingly. She was growing bitter. She started to complain again about the hospital staff, repeating a story about poor quality of the hospital food.

"They can't even get soup right, Bobby! Imagine!"

"I heard you the first time, Ma," he said, growing impatient with her. "I brought you a present," he said.

"We'll wait for your brother," she said.

Again, they filled the long silences with meaningless words. At last, Bobby spoke again. "He's not gonna come, Ma. It's just like the last time, when he forgot-"

Her heart monitor blipped in the background, and she looked angry. "Frank will be here," she said. "He would never forget my birthday."

"Why don't you open your present?"

"No! I want to wait! He'll be here!"

Bobby looked at the clock. He knew Frank wasn't coming. His anger was growing as he tried to fathom why she wouldn't accept it.

"Bobby, have you seen Frank?" She asked, as if they hadn't just spoken of it on the phone the other night.

He nodded firmly, but his eyes were distant, staring at her blanket.

"Well, how is he? What did he say?"

His eyes met hers for a moment, but he looked away again as he answered her. "He's fine."

"Oh, good. Good. Well, of course he is."

"He said that he's, you know, cleaning himself up." Bobby still looked away as he spoke.

"Ah, Frank never caught a break. You had all the luck," she said with a scoff. After a moment, she continued, "Where was he?"

Bobby was lost in thought, comparing Frank's choices to his own so-called 'luck.' It took him a moment to process her question. "Oh, he was coming out of a church."

"You see that?" She said. "He's going back to God," she said proudly, and Bobby felt the implication in her words. "Never underestimate your brother," she added.

He'd been taking it all, all the little stabs, but Bobby's face betrayed how much that one hurt. To his credit, though, he said nothing.

"I'm just uh… I'm just gonna close my eyes a little bit…"

Bobby sat with her as she drifted back to sleep, thinking about his mother, his brother, his 'luck,' and God. His emotions were drifting and changing with every thought, it seemed. He finally turned his eyes away from the droning television and stared out the window into the hall.

He caught a glimpse of Dr. Sylveste making rounds. Bobby lurched up from the chair and hurried into the hall. He followed along a step behind the doctor. "Dr. Sylveste!" Did you look into that new treatment that I was talking about?" he asked.

"Radiation-carrying monoclonal antibodies. The studies are ongoing."

"Yeah, but the phase one tests, they were very promising for someone with my mother's type of cancer. I mean, if you could get her into a trial…"

"They won't take her in the clinical trial," the doctor said firmly. "Her cancer is advanced, and her mental health is an issue."

Bobby sighed. "Well, forget the trial. Just get the treatment."

"The FDA hasn't approved it yet."

"Well then, apply for the 'compassionate use' exception." He could feel his anger building. "Look, she's got no other options."

"Compassionate use? I'm afraid there may not be enough time."

Bobby felt like the man was sentencing her to death. He couldn't accept it. He looked down at the floor, shaking his head. There had to be another way. "Well, I've been talking to someone at the FDA who could help…"

"Mr. Goren-"

"…expedite…"

"Please. You should know, your friend can help, but the cost is prohibitive. It's not covered by Medicaid. The entire expense would have to come out of pocket."

"How much?" Bobby asked, still unwilling to accept that there was nothing he could do.

"Minimum? Five, Six thousand dollars."

Bobby sighed, envisioning his strained finances. He could maybe do five or six thousand dollars. "Well, for the whole treatment?" He asked hopefully.

"No. Per month," the doctor replied, crushing Bobby's hope. "Just because the science exists, doesn't always make it the best choice for the family."

Bobby's anger fizzled into sorrow. He sighed and nodded, then turned to walk back down to his mother's room. Tears welled in his eyes, but he forced them back into oblivion.

Alex could see the immense sadness in Bobby's face, in his body language. He didn't breathe a word about the visit with his mother, and she didn't ask in front of the Captain.

She briefed him on her interrogation of Diego, and the three of them sat in the AV room to watch, again, the footage of the debate.

Cal's first words, "Sometimes, we have to rely on faith," set Bobby off into a train wreck of thought. Alex read his face and refocused her attention on the screen. She was going to have to take up the slack for Bobby tonight. He was preoccupied.

Cal's voice filled the room. "All the intelligence in the world will not help this man. He needs to accept the Lord. He needs to pray to God."

She glanced over at Bobby, and she could see that the words were cutting into him. Alex looked back to the television.

Bobby tried to get his mind back in the game. When Corliss offered his rebuttal, Goren was listening. "IF inflicting unbearable pain is how your God tests faith, then he's a vindictive son-of-a-bitch!"

Ross paused the tape and told them how this rebuttal was out of character for Corliss. "Riggins must have really hit a hot button to make Corliss lose control."

They spoke of each man's motivations to travel together, engaging in these public debates. Bobby told them how much Corliss was paid for each debate. "Corliss is in it for the money," Bobby said.

Ross pointed out that the guy made a lot and seemed to have very little in the way of financial responsibilities.

With that, the two detectives headed out to investigate James Corliss. Alex wanted to ask him, but she saw the way he moved, and she knew Bobby just needed to lose himself in the work for a while. Alex found the only anomaly in Corliss' checkbook, a monthly payment to a woman since 1990 that started at $2200 and went up regularly until the most recent payment, $6000.

They called it a night, with plans to visit Alminia Perez on Monday.

In the elevator, Alex finally asked. "Frank didn't show?"

Bobby snapped out of his thoughts and shook his head. "No," he said, and his voice faltered.

She stared at him. "But there's more than just that," she said.

Bobby swallowed hard, and that sorrowful look passed over him again. "I… I, uh, I can't, Alex. I'm… I'm going home."

The elevator doors opened, and he was gone. Alex frowned after him, her face full of worry.

Bobby called in the next morning, saying he was called back to Carmel Ridge and he would check in with her Monday evening.

Even with the check, it took some time to find the woman. Alex finally made it to her home in the afternoon, close to 3:00 p.m. It was her good fortune that it had taken so long. As it turned out, she was at Perez' home when the special bus brought James Corliss' son home from school. He was sweet, and obviously mentally impaired.

They were together again when she briefed Ross. "Corliss finds out you met his son, tough getting him to talk," the Captain said.

"Not if he thinks we're going after his archenemy, the Reverend," Bobby countered.

Ross went along with this plan. He sent the detectives out to confront Corliss in his lab.

Alex took the lead as Bobby sat on the couch by the back wall, fumbling with his binder. They confronted the man with their knowledge of his relationship with Marjorie. Bobby told him they knew about Venice.

"Venice is a romantic city," he said.

"Not for Marjorie," Corliss said. "Venice is a killer for anybody with any kind of motion sickness."

Bobby made a note. Corliss knew of Marjorie's labrynthitis.

They confronted him with the knowledge of his son, who he kept secret from the world. "I cried like a baby the day I knew there was nothing we could do, that all the science in the world couldn't fix my child."

Bobby was inspired by this comment. He slammed the binder shut and got to his feet, asking, "Were you angry at God for that?"

"No. There is no God. What happens to us is what happens to us."

"And when Riggins said at the debate that only God could help your son?" Bobby asked, leaning against the counter behind the scientist.

"I lost it. How dare that fanatic compare my precious son to his made-up God?"

"Marjorie knew about Jimmie, didn't she?" Alex asked.

He admitted that he'd told her years ago.

"You wanted her to marry you… help raise your son," Alex continued.

"We were just friends."

"You mean that she rejected you," Bobby said, "for Riggins… that she rejected your science for his faith."

Bobby got him to confess. He cuffed the man and led him out.

Bobby and Alex were watching the coverage on the news in the AV room when Ross came in. He seemed a little somber. "Detective, the ME just called." He was addressing Goren. "You should get down there."

Alex saw the flash of fear in his glance. The only person in his life the ME would call him for would be Frank. Bobby's face was grim as they hurried through the building and down, down to the coroner's office. Alex desperately wanted to hold his hand.

Alex rubbed her eye and let out a sigh as Rodgers picked up Bobby's nice wool coat. He recognized the coat, too.

"Detective," she said. She handed Bobby his business card. "He had your card in his coat."

Alex watched Bobby. She could see the stress, the fear pulsing through him. Rodgers handed him the coat, and he tucked it over his left arm. His eyes sought Alex's.

Without further hesitation, Bobby walked around and gently lifted the sheet, checking for a toe tag. It said "John Doe." He frowned and circled around to the head of the gurney. He drew the sheet back, and saw a stranger's face.

"Oh, well…" Bobby gasped quietly. "Oh, that's not my brother-I mean, it's my coat but it's not my-my brother." He was clearly relieved. "I guess he sold it to somebody. It's okay," he told himself. "I mean, I gave it to him. He can sell it if he wants to. It's just…" He looked back at the body and then held his breath a moment. Bobby looked at Alex. "Everybody needs money, right?"

Alex watched him as if he was a stranger. He'd never acted this way in front of her before. She was silent. It was her job to support him. That was what their relationship was, after all: helping each other through the bad times. Alex gave him a slow, resigned nod.

She couldn't impose all of her feelings, all of her thoughts on him. He was making excuses for Frank, another form of enabling. It wasn't good, but Frank wasn't her brother.

Bobby hung his head and whispered "thanks," as he headed for the door.

Alex followed.