Chapter 55

"Did I miss Bastille Day?" Alex joked, and Bobby gave her a smile. He was wearing that maroon jacket again. "I thought you had the day off."

"I do. I, uh... I forgot... this," he said, holding up a scrap of paper in his hand. "Phone number for this guy who's got a vintage radio for the mustang. Vintage, Eames."

She smiled at him. "Vintage?"

"Vintage. The real deal. And he says it still works."

"Good luck with that, Bobby. Have fun." As he passed, he let his left hand drift across her shoulder. She smiled again and spared a look after him. He seemed to be coming out of it. He was spending more time with her again, and although she wouldn't consider it dating, it was nice. It felt like things were back on track.

The man was begging for money, but threatening people with a brick at the same time. Bobby heard his cries. "I'm a human being. I'm a human being."

"Excuse me, sir," Bobby said. He held up a folded bill in his fingers. "I got twenty dollars here." The man was poised, ready to bash him with the brick, but Bobby didn't flinch. With a calm voice and a steady hand, he reached his left for the brick as his right tipped the money into the cup. "I could use a brick like that."

With a careful smile, Bobby turned and walked down the street, checking the weight of his new brick in his hand.

Alex had just taken her first sip of coffee when she heard someone calling her name.

"Detective Eames? If I'm lucky, you don't remember me."

She watched him cross the brick pavement to stand in front of her.

"I'm Frank. Goren."

"I know who you are." All her senses were on alert. Bobby hadn't seen or heard from Frank in months.

"Last time I saw you was on the soup line. Not my best moment."

"What about the last time I... didn't... see you. At your mother's funeral?"

"Yeah. I started using again. The day she died." He looked down and scraped the toe of his shoe against the pavement. "Took me a while to hit bottom," he admitted. "I don't know... found my way back to church. My higher power was looking out for me."

Red flags were popping up all over. Alex turned her head and looked at 1PP while she thought. Then she turned back to Frank. "How long have you been waiting out here, Frank?" she asked.

"I think about a half hour?"

"'Cause Bobby goes to work before I do...which means you saw him, and you were waiting for me." She turned away and started walking again. "Thanks."

He called after her, following. "Detective. Bobby's written me off."

She sighed.

"Which is... fair enough, but I need his help."

"I can't do that," she said.

"I have a son," Frank told her, stepping in her way to stop her.

She paused. "Congratulations," she said, shaking her head.

"He's nineteen. He's in trouble. It's a police matter. Bobby could help."

She stared at him, pausing again. Then she shook her head. "I'm not getting in the middle." With that, she kept on walking.

"I had to ask," he called after her.

She thought of Bobby, and of all the times she'd wished he'd had his brother there for him. A few more steps, and she stopped. Frank looked good. He didn't look like he was using. Alex turned back, and saw the man walking away. "Frank!" She called to him. "Look. Hang around. I'll tell him you're down here."

Frank smiled and nodded gratefully. "Thanks. Thanks a lot."

Bobby walked briskly beside her in the aisles of the squad room. "He has a son," he grumbled, disbelieving. "Frank's a junkie, Eames. He'll say anything."

"He didn't ask for money," she told him.

"Just wait."

"For what it's worth, I don't think Frank's using. He looked healthy." They paused at their desks, and Bobby looked over at her. "And he took responsibility for his past." She sat down in her chair, and Bobby followed suit.

"Well Frank is not... in program, Frank talks program."

She licked her lips and nodded. Bobby knew his brother. She wouldn't try to force him.

Bobby took a breath and glanced around the room. Then he abruptly got to his feet, turning in a slow circle and fiddling with his tie. "So... what... y-you say he's downstairs?"

She nodded at him.

Bobby fingered his tie clip.

"I didn't promise him anything."

"Bet he thinks you did," Bobby told her as he walked past on the way to the elevators.

They didn't hug. They stood six feet apart, hands in pockets, and nodded at each other. "Frank."

"Bobby... uh... thanks for coming down here..."

Bobby started walking. It was a way to use up the nervous energy that was taking him over. There was so much that he was angry about. The first thing that popped into his mind was his mother's missing ring. He'd tried to find it when she died, so she could be buried with it. But it, and Frank, had gone missing.

"So what'd you do with it, Frank? You sell it to get your next fix? Mom's ring?!"

"That's what you're upset about? Look, she gave me the ring, okay? She gave it to me."

Bobby stuck out his lower jaw and looked away. "She'd never give you her engagement ring. She'd know that you'd sell it."

"That's why she gave it to me! Mom knew I needed money. Look, every single time I went to see her, she'd slip me a twenty like I was a teenager."

Bobby slowed his steps and turned to look at his brother. "Oh, yeah, every time? What'd that come out to, like forty bucks?"

Frank lowered his voice. He raised his hands to his head and then dropped them in defeat. "All right, look. You're angry at me. I deserve it." He took out his wallet and opened it to withdraw the picture of his son. "But he doesn't." He handed the photo to Bobby. "It's your nephew. Donny."

"This is your son." Bobby sounded skeptical.

"Yeah."

"He doesn't look like you."

"No, he doesn't," Frank was quick to say. He raised his eyes to Bobby's. "He looks like you," he said with a smile.

Bobby looked at the picture again.

"He lives in Pennsylvania with his mom."

"You're his father." He stepped in closer. "So how come you're just telling me about this now?"

"I would have ruined the kid, Bobby." Frank was sincere. "Now that I'm clean, his mom lets me see him."

"Did Mom know about... Donny?"

"I disappeared before he was born. How was I gonna tell mom that?" Frank asked, replacing his wallet in his pocket.

Everything about Frank just made Bobby mad. He stepped in really close. "Do you know what it would have meant to her to...to know that she had a grandson?" He turned and walked a few steps away.

"All right." In silence, they started to walk back in the direction of 1PP.

"So?" Bobby asked.

"So?" Frank replied.

"He's in trouble? Is it drugs?"

"No. Donny doesn't use." They stopped walking again. "He was riding in a car that had drugs in it. He got a year for possession."

Bobby looked down on his brother, a scowl etched on his face. "I can't do anything in Pennsylvania."

"No, no, no... he was arrested in Upstate New York. He's at, uhm... Tates Corrections." Frank paused. "I'm okay with Donny doing the time. But the kid called me last week, he was totally freaked out. He's having nightmares and I don't know what else."

Bobby felt a little jolt of compassion, and thought of his mother. "What do you mean? I mean, voices, or visions? I mean, if he's bipolar and goes off his meds, that could give him nightmares."

"I'm not talking like sorta like Mom's thing." Frank looked earnestly at his brother. "He's a kid and he's scared. He saw some really terrible stuff in jail. He wants to talk to you about it himself."

"Me? Did you tell him I was a cop?" All at once, Bobby felt like he was being used again.

"I'm proud of you, Bobby," Frank said, and clapped him on the arm.

Bobby drew away from his brother's touch, but he softened a little. "What's his last name?" he asked.

"Carlson. With a C. So you're going?"

"I'll look into it, okay?"

"Thanks, man."

"That's all, all right?" Bobby warned.

"Hey, Bobby. Thank you," Frank called after his brother, who waved him off.

"Well?" Alex asked.

Bobby shrugged and sat down. "He's worried about Donny. I told him I'd look into it."

A tiny smile tried to emerge, but Alex pressed her lips together and nodded, ducking back into her work.