Chapter 48

It was a quiet ride back. Alex was still angry, and Bobby spent some time thinking. She was grieving, he was right about that. From the way she was acting, he wondered if she had ever really grieved Joe in the first place, or if she'd shoved the pain into some locked compartment and just left it there to fester and rot.

She rattled off something about checking up with project innocence and buried herself away in the paperwork on her desk. She put in a call and while she was hanging on the line, Bobby made a decision. He went down to records and retrieved the file from Joseph Dutton's murder.

He'd just finished hanging it all on the bulletin board when she came in. Upon hearing her voice, Bobby's hand went to scratch his head. He felt as if he'd been caught doing something wrong. "I spoke to Project Innocence. They're not interested in this case." There was a definite tone of indignation in her voice. "They said Delgado's mother has been—" Alex stopped in her tracks. She looked at the bulletin board, the news clippings, the photos of her husband. She saw the yellow stickies scrawled with Bobby's handwriting.

"You're going through Joe's case file?!" It was more of an accusation than a question.

"Eames," he said, again determined to be the voice of reason and hoping it wouldn't turn into another argument. He could already see the anger smoldering in her eyes.

"What do you think you'll find there, Bobby?!" Her voice wavered slightly.

He looked down at his binder, fiddling nervously with his fingernails. "Well, there was a lit cigarette at your husband's crime scene, a menthol."

"I know that! Minaya testified it belonged to Delgado."

"Well, Delgado said that he didn't smoke."

"Well, CSU just couldn't get enough DNA off of it to prove that Delgado was lying."

"Yes, nine years ago!" Bobby cried. "You know that today they only need a trace of DNA."

"Kevin Quinn ID'd him as running from the scene, gun in hand!"

He tried to calm himself again. "Witnesses… make mistakes, and if it's Delgado's DNA, it will confirm his guilt." He gave her a pleading look, hoping she would see he was on her side in this.

"But you don't think it will," she shot back. Everything about her was posturing for a fight. "Is that it?" she demanded, and the tears compromised her voice.

Bobby's eyes flitted down for a moment. It hurt him, too, to know the pain she was feeling. He couldn't back down, though. Ross had warned her, he had warned her, and she wanted to stay on the case. And now, he had to do his job, the same as he'd do for any victim. Slowly, and without a word, he raised his eyes and looked at her.

Alex couldn't keep the tears at bay. She looked down and shook her head. "This isn't… another one of your puzzles," she told him, and it sounded an awful lot like a cry for help.

His eyes met hers again, and he gave her a quiet nod. He understood how much it hurt, he really did. Again, he thought it over. His determination didn't falter. He had to do his job.

Alex saw the determination on her partner's face and she turned her head away.

Bobby sighed. It took all of the strength he had, but he said it. "You know that we have to do this. We've got to do it." He watched her face, full of pain. "If it's not Delgado's DNA, it means he wasn't there… and someone else killed Joe…and got away with it!"

She didn't cry again, but Alex felt as if her heart was torn completely in two. She shook her head sadly and met his eyes again. They stared at each other for a moment, and then she turned away, folding her arms over her chest as she studied the bulletin board in front of her.

Bobby put his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands. He closed his eyes, giving her a few minutes of privacy. He prayed that they could somehow get through this… together. Finally, Bobby straightened up in his seat and looked at her.

She still had her back to him. She was standing strong, in spite of the pain that made her slump her shoulders slightly. She was beautiful, but he couldn't tell her that now. As he admired her strength, he said softly, "Alex?"

"We have to do this," she replied. Alex turned around. To his surprise, one of her hands was clasped around the cross pendant he'd given her.

Bobby's eyes softened, and he gave her a nod.

The evidence officer walked back to the front desk where Alex was waiting. Goren stood two steps behind her. As much as she hated to do this, she was committed to it now. And of all the things they were going to have to dig into, this box of evidence was likely to be the most painful for her. It was the box containing the evidence collected the night of Joe's murder. They needed the cigarette so they could send it to trace. Bobby thought it was only right that Alex should be the one to get the box and to go through it. He was her support now.

"Case 297-06. I got nothing back there."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked, shocked.

"It's missing," the guy said, matter of fact.

Bobby took one step closer, but stayed behind Alex, his hands clasped behind his back. "How hard did you look?" he asked.

"Well it's not where it's supposed to be. What do you want me to do, check the whole warehouse?"

Neither Detective appreciated his attitude. "We'll wait," Alex said with a nod. Bobby reached out and touched the counter with the tips of his fingers.

"Lady, you want to spend all weekend here? Be my guest."

After all Alex had been through with this case, she didn't need some bitter cop who probably didn't cut it on the streets giving her a hard time. Bobby couldn't help but interject. "What do you mean, 'lady?'" You mean 'Detective Eames,' don't you? Look. That evidence that you can't find has to do with a cop killer."

Bobby moved in closer until his face was past the chain link barrier that kept the staff safe from the people who might want to steal evidence. "You want me to come back there and find the box?" Goren offered. He was annoyed. "I'll find it. I'll tear this place apart, okay? Hmm? Hmm? Hmm?" He adopted his old school attitude, winking one eye and then the other, his tone of voice threatening. "Because I'm the whack job, understand?!"

Alex didn't move from the counter, but her head lifted at the words 'whack job.' Bobby had never told her about Moran's comment, but she'd heard the rumors. Chances are, so had the man in front of them.

The intimidation worked. "Lighten up, buddy, okay? I'll check it again."

"Okay," Goren said.

Before Alex could say anything, Bobby's cell phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket. "Yeah… Hang on." He tilted his head away from the phone. "They found Quinn's murder weapon," he told Alex.

Alex rolled her eyes with a shake of her head. What terrible timing! "Well, can you chase that? Because—"

He nodded and walked away, chattering on the phone. For a moment, Alex held her head in her hands. Then she leaned on her elbows until the evidence man came back.

The weapon was an M-11 A-1 from the Vietnam era. Ray Delgado's cellmates were all still in prison, and family had been his only visitors, which meant if he'd ordered a hit, the family were either the ones who did it or got the message out for him. Bobby went to speak to Delgado's father. The man was a former marine, a Vietnam vet, and he and his wife had been raising their grandson since his father was in prison.

Miraculously, the box was found. "It must have fallen behind something," the man said as he slid it through the pass-through window. It was his way of apologizing, and Alex nodded her thanks.

As he disappeared back into the back room, Alex carried the box to the table by the wall. It took her a few moments to muster up the courage to open it. With a deep breath, Alex lifted the top of the box away. She opened a paper bag, and withdrew his blood-stained shirt.

Alex remembered buying him that shirt at Macy's. She remembered how it clung to his muscular chest. As she raised it from the box, she saw Joe's blood all over the lower half. She pressed the clean upper part against her face, inhaling the trace of his scent, and sank into the chair and cried. After a few minutes, she retrieved the bag with the cigarette inside.

It turned out Victor had signed up for the marines and was waiting to go to basic training. Bobby told the man he'd been in the Army, and Ray's father teased him. "Marines make a man out of you." He was proud that his grandson had signed up. The young man arrived home on one of those fancy skateboards. Bobby sat back, watching how adeptly Victor flipped up and caught the skateboard in his hands.

Bobby made conversation with the boy, congratulating him on joining. The old man bantered with Bobby about the Marines while Victor looked on.

"You know a lot of things have changed since then. You know that, right?" He smiled down at the vet. "What kind of gun did you carry back then, a hush puppy?"

"What, are you kidding? An M-11," the old man replied.

Victor realized suddenly that this detective wasn't on the porch for a friendly chat. His smile faded. "Hey listen, Pops, I got to take off, okay?"

"Where you going? Don't be rude."

"You still got it?" Bobby asked.

"Matter of fact, I do."

"Yeah?"

"I got a lot of errands," Victor said, trying to get away again.

"Can I see it?" Bobby asked, staring down at his feet on the porch, completely unthreatening.

"Sure, I got nothing to hide," the old man said cheerfully. Victor will get it for you."

"Oh, yeah?" Bobby asked, lifting his head.

"Go ahead," the man told his grandson.

Victor shook his head, looking between the two men. "I don't know where it is."

"Where it always is. Go get it." The boy squirmed and his grandfather said, "Victor… que te pasa?"

Bobby got to his feet, his badge glinting in the sunlight. "He doesn't know where it is, because he took it."

"Took it?! What the…" The man threw a panicked look Bobby's way. "You're not arresting him, are you?"

Bobby slowly shook his head. "Not if he'll come in for questioning."

He parked the kid in an interview room and stepped out, making an excuse. The grandparents were on their way. It took the old man a while to get his wife and get to 1PP. Bobby called Alex.

"Hi Bobby," she said. She sounded like she'd been crying.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she lied.

He told her about Victor, the skateboard, and the missing gun.

"I'm already on my way up," she said. "I'll catch the old man and if we need to, I'll book him."

"The kid will cave," Bobby said confidently.

"Okay. I'll be there in a few."

Bobby went back to the interview room and sat down with the aspiring marine.

The kid tried to say the gun was stolen, but Bobby gave him the facts. Victor asserted that his Dad was framed.

After a few minutes, Alex came in and informed Bobby that the room was ready to interrogate the old man. "Relax, Victor, we'll let you see him after his confession, okay?"

Bobby laid it out for the kid again, tapping the tabletop with his fingers. "His gun killed Minaya and Detective Quinn. His bullets. He had motive, okay? You said so yourself."

Alex stood by silently as Bobby played the kid like a fiddle. He was so close, but he still wouldn't crack. Finally, she chipped in her two cents. "He'll be eligible for parole in 25," she said quietly.

"But he's 70! He's got diabetes. He has to be monitored."

"So, maybe you can ask that he get a place close to home," Alex said. "You won't have to drive so far."

"You're used to that kind of thing, right?" Bobby prodded. The kid had to drive 5 hours to see his father every week. "Been staring at your Dad through a plexiglass window for your whole life, so—"

"We haven't got all day," Alex said. "Come on."

The two detectives went out the door. As Bobby started to pull it shut, the kid's face screwed up and he shouted, "I did it!" They came back in. "Okay? I did it, not my Grandpa."

The kid made a full confession in interrogation and broke down crying. Ross and Eames watched from the observation room. "There is no such thing as getting even," she quipped.

She didn't ask him to come over. Bobby wanted to offer, but he wasn't sure that was the best idea, either. So he said goodnight in the parking structure and watched her drive away. For the next two nights, he took the subway home alone.

Rodgers' call caused Alex's shoulders to stiffen once again. Bobby followed her down to the ME's office.

"I'm sorry about your husband," Dr. Rodgers said. "I never knew."

Alex hung her head a moment, then gestured to the envelope in the Doctor's hands. "So the cigarette from the crime scene?"

"There was enough DNA for an ID."

Alex nodded. "Ray Delgado?" she asked, her voice full of confidence.

"No," Rodgers said, handing over the report. "He's not a match."

The pain reared up again, and Alex hung her head for a moment before turning to face her partner. She fought to control the tears and stared at him.

Bobby sat sadly before her, not sure if she was looking at him in accusation or looking to him for support.

She hung her head again, and then looked up at him. "Minaya lied," she said.

"Yeah," Bobby agreed. "He said that Delgado had the lit cigarette in his mouth when Joe was shot."

"Minaya was the shooter all along," Alex said, looking to Rodgers for confirmation.

"It wasn't his DNA," Elizabeth said.

Alex looked at her, incredulous, then studied the report once again.

"Well, if it wasn't Minaya… wasn't Joe… Someone else was in that room when Joe got shot, Alex." She nodded.

The found one of Minaya's former gangster friends, and he told them the summer Joe was killed, Minaya had a kid following him around. A kid with a glock.

As they discussed the information, Bobby surmised that the kid wasn't someone from the gang, that he was possibly a family member.

They stopped by to speak with Minaya's mother, opening the interview by telling her they'd arrested her son's murderer. Alfred Minaya's sister was there, too, and she warned her mother in Spanish not to trust the police.

Bobby answered her in Spanish. "Nos preocupa su familia." We care about your family.

The woman hadn't expected him to know Spanish. She was quiet. Alex asked if anyone else in the family had run in Minaya's crowd, suggesting that they also could be in danger.

Bobby had already noticed the picture on the bookshelf. He grabbed it quickly and showed it to the mother. "Is this Alfred and his brother?" Bobby asked.

"No, his cousin Manny," the woman said. She told them Manny was an emergency room surgeon.

Bobby determined that Manny had been in the city that same summer of Joe's murder, but had returned to Puerto Rico. "He's still in Puerto Rico?" Goren asked.

"Now?" the younger woman said. "At Starch Memorial, in Queens," she answered.

The staff wasn't happy when the two detectives marched past the desk and into the E.R.

"Dr. Manny Beltran?" Eames asked, recognizing him from the photo.

"Yes?" he said. He stood over a sink, washing his hands. Bobby sat on a stool beside him. "Sorry I can't shake your hand," he said with a smile. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

"We're with Major Case," Alex announced. "We're investigating the murder of a police officer."

"Detective Quinn?" the surgeon asked. "We did everything we could, but…"

Bobby was having a hard time sitting still. His head swung one way, and then the other, and finally, he spoke. "That stuff is hard to get off your hands, isn't it? Gets under your skin and your clothes, right?" He watched as the Doctor patted his fingers dry. Bobby reached out and touched the man's hand. "That's not Betadine," he told Eames. He looked back at the doctor. "That's at least a pack a day of nicotine stains like that. You're a doctor, and you smoke, huh? Menthols?"

"When it's your time, it's your time, right?" Manny said.

"Well this may be your time, Dr. Beltran. See, we're… we're not here about Detective Quinn. We're here about another Detective. Joe Dutton. You see, nine years ago, a cigarette butt was found at the scene of his murder."

"The killer smoked it," Alex said, emphasizing the word 'killer.' "That's what a witness told us… but you remember that."

Dr. Beltran paled. He said nothing.

"They can do amazing things with forensics, huh?" Bobby said. He tilted his head slightly, and made eye contact with the man. "Whole decade gone by…just a trace of DNA…but you're a doctor. You know about that."

Alex glared at him, the man who undoubtedly killed her Joe.

"The cigarette," Beltran said. "You found a trace, didn't you?"

Alex nodded. "What did you think, that this wouldn't catch up with you?"

"I swear to God, it was an accident. A terrible accident."

Bobby leaned hard against the wall, his arms folded. He watched Alex step closer to the man, and he watched the man sit down in defeat.

"So many years ago…" the man continued. He looked up at Alex. "I still have nightmares."

"You killed a police officer," she said, accusing.

"I thought he was going for a gun!" the man cried, removing his stethoscope from around his neck. Bobby straightened, ready to step in if he tried anything. "I didn't realize until after I'd shot him that he was just going for his shield."

Alex's face was twisted with pain. She had imagined Joe's last moments so many times, and she'd never imagined it like this. "But you never came forward," she finally said.

"Alfred put me on a plane to San Juan the next day. We never talked about it." She shook her head, and he got back to his feet. "I save people," he said emphatically. "I've saved hundreds of lives."

She shook her head again. "It doesn't make up for the one you took away." After a pause, she kept her voice firm and said, "Manny Beltran, you are under arrest for the murder of Joseph Dutton." Bobby's hand was at the joint of his neck. The other hand came down to steady his arm. Bobby turned the Doctor so Alex could cuff him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I never came forward. That officer…he's why I became a doctor… to make amends somehow. I took his life away. I have no idea who he was."

With a sad nod of the head, Alex spoke. "He was a good cop." She snapped the cuffs and stepped back to call in the uniforms to take him into custody.

Once he was gone, Bobby put his hand against the small of her back and they walked out of the ER together. Without a word, Bobby went to the driver's side, adjusted the seat, and got in. He tweaked the mirrors while she got situated.

"I can... I'll call in a dinner break, if you want. We don't have to hurry back."

Alex covered her face with her hands and gulped in a breath of air. She nodded, her face still hidden behind her hands. Bobby made the call and eased the car out into traffic. By the time they'd gone a mile, she was sobbing. He pulled over and took her into his arms, holding her as she shook against him.