Chapter 36

"An unknown man assaults the woman in your life…? The husband's doing 19 years? Probably set up the same way I was." Brady shook his head, thinking. "That's terrible… I was thinking, if I were to confess to this… I mean, I didn't do it, but if I confessed to it, you think that would help?"

Bobby looked over at Alex. Her face was grim, and her eyes full of warning. Are you sure you're up for this?

Bobby mouthed "yeah" without even realizing he did it. He turned back to Brady, his voice exceedingly quiet. "Uh…Well, we'd need a believable confession."

Brady stood and the prison guard rushed in to manhandle him. "It's okay!" Bobby told the man, and he let Brady go. Bobby and Alex listened as Brady described the rape and murder of Anna Dukay. He even described her husband walking in on him.

Goren had read the most horrible things in his studies of serial killers. He'd heard a good number of confessions over the course of his career. But the way Mark Ford Brady so easily described what he'd done… the happy lilt in his voice… Bobby raised his hand to his mouth.

"Well, you've done a good deed," Bobby told Brady, not managing to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

"Oh, well thank you," Brady said with a grin.

"Do another one," Alex interjected. "Each of these women must have a story," she said, flipping pages in the scrapbook.

Bobby studied Brady's face as the man looked through the photos. He saw a smile cross his face before he continued perusing the book. "Okay," Bobby said. "Could you go back a page?"

Brady did.

Bobby tapped the picture. "This woman. You smiled when you saw her picture."

"Did I?" Brady asked. "You're very observant."

Bobby was not amused. "It's a fine line, this… Give us nothing, then we're done. Give us everything, then you don't need us, but that's the game that we're playing." He raised his eyes and nodded at the killer.

Brady gave them a name. Madelyn.

Bobby had spent at least half the trip trying to prepare Alex for meeting his mother. He explained again how her schizophrenia affected her, and how the cancer had affected that. He was nervous, talking a mile a minute, bouncing his knee, and really, making excuses for whatever Frances might say.

Finally, Alex seized upon a quiet moment. "I guess you haven't taken a girl home to meet your Mom in a while," she teased.

Bobby did a doubletake, and then stared at her a moment. "N-no, I… I never did that," he said. "…Take a girl home, I mean."

Alex was stunned. How could he have never brought a girl home to his mother? As she thought of it, some comprehension dawned. In his younger years, his mother was sick, unmedicated, unpredictable. Alex recovered from the shock quickly and tried to reassure him. "Don't worry, Bobby," she said. "I'm looking forward to this. Really."

"I just don't want you to…" He jiggled his knee again and his head turned to look at the trees blurring by them. He looked back. "I want you to like her. And her to like you."

Alex smiled, reached out, and patted his knee.

In the hall outside her room, Bobby told Alex he wanted to go in alone first, to test the waters.

Alex kept a firm grip on his hand and shook her head. "I want to meet her, Bobby. We'll go in together."

It took him a moment to agree. His nerves really were getting the best of him. At last, he gave a shaky nod of his head. Alex squeezed his hand and walked in with him, never letting go.

"Mom, this is… Alex. Alex Eames," Bobby said.

Frances looked at Alex, then turned her attention to her son. "You don't even have a kiss for your dying mother?" She said to him.

Bobby blushed and Alex let his hand go so he could kiss his Mom on the cheek. He raised back to his full height and Frances looked at the two of them.

Even without the handholding, she could see there was a connection between them. Bobby stood tall, and so did this girl. They were smiling at her pleasantly.

"Alex?" Frances asked.

"It's short for Alexandra," Eames explained.

Frances' expression was hard to read. She stared at Alex a moment, then turned back to her son. "Bobby, the nurse was telling me there's a good article in the new issue of the New Yorker. Be a dear and go get me a copy?"

He threw Eames a look of quiet panic. She smiled at him and touched his arm. I'll be fine. "Go ahead, Bobby," Alex said, reassurance in her tone.

"And get one from the back, not one everyone in the shop has handled!" Frances called after him. Bobby smiled and gave her a wave as he left the room.

Alex scooted a chair close to the bedside and lowered herself into it.

"You love my son."

Alex smiled and looked into the woman's eyes. She nodded.

"You'd have to, to come meet me on my deathbed. It's not exactly Thanksgiving dinner, is it?"

Alex's smile broadened. The old lady was certainly sharp.

"I suppose he's told you all about me."

Alex nodded.

"The schizophrenia?"

She nodded again. Alex refused to blush, to be embarrassed about it.

"You know, I did just fine on my own. I raised two boys, sent them to college. Not bad on a librarian's salary." Frances regarded the woman in front of her. She hadn't said much, but she liked the quiet strength she saw there. "And you've known him a long time?"

Again, Alex nodded. "Yeah."

"Bobby is weak," she said, causing Alex's brow to furrow a little. "If you've known him long, you know that. All his life, he's been too soft. Just a few words will turn him inside out. God knows I tried to toughen him up, but…" Frances sighed and shook her head. "He's not ready. He thinks he's ready for this, but he's not."

Now Alex understood what the woman was trying to say. The furrows deepened, and Mrs. Goren continued.

"Frankie, he'll be fine. Life has always been hard on him, and he just braces himself and keeps going. But Bobby… when something knocks him down, he flounders for a while before he figures out what to do with himself." The old woman looked at Eames, then, her eyes sharp and piercing. "Can you handle him?"

Alex almost chuckled. This was the same conversation she'd had with Ross so many times, wasn't it? "I can handle him," she said.

"I don't believe it."

Alex looked at the woman in surprise.

"A little old thing like you?"

"You're small, but you can handle him," Alex tossed back at her.

Frances gave her a slow smile of approval. Bobby returned, with a tentative knock at the door. Alex nodded that he could come in, and as he handed his mother the magazine, Alex slipped her arm around his waist. He turned his head to her and gave her a smile. It was nice, not having to hide it.

They stayed until the end of visiting hours, and then headed back to the city. Bobby kept throwing her glances, but he never asked the question. Alex kept her eyes on the road, but even out of the corner of her eye, she could see he had a smile on his face.

"Don't you want to know what we talked about?" She teased him.

Bobby's eyes lit up and he tilted his head, then nodded.

"She wanted to know you'd be all right."

"That doesn't sound like my mother," he said quietly.

Alex's lips curled. "She loves you, Bobby, in her way. How did I do?" She asked, and threw a glance in his direction.

"F-fine, you know. Fine. I think she liked you."

A/N Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! To Sell, the translations are working as well as google translate did, and the way you're doing it now makes it much easier for me to reread your comments! Thx!

...more to come!