Home of Alex Eames' mother
Wednesday, May 21
"So, do I pass inspection? Am I allowed back into my own kitchen now?"
Alex grinned at her mother, who sat across from her at the kitchen table. She replied, "Are you complaining about a night off from cooking?"
"It would have been nice about twenty-five years ago, when you were all teenagers," her mom said, wagging her finger at Alex, "not because you think I'm an invalid."
"Mom, you know it's not like that."
"Oh," she replied, "and I suppose you're not going to call your sister and brothers the minute you walk out of here to give a report on me?"
"Hey, if I don't," Alex said, "you know they'll be on your doorstep in another hour or so. I'm doing you a favor here."
"Good, because I don't want to repeat that grilling you put me through. How many times do I have to tell you I feel all right?"
Alex knew that Bobby, sitting beside her, was a little uneasy with the sharp banter between mother and daughter, but to Alex it was a good sign. This was their normal, friendly mode of communication.
When they'd first arrived at the house, Alex had been sure that her mother would be planted on the couch or an easy chair, unable to rise without help. She'd half expected to see a walker.
Instead, her mom had met them at the door, looking and sounding normal. Alex and Bobby were both carrying groceries, and she'd actually offered to take one of the bags!
Alex had spent the first ten minutes of their visit quizzing her mom and Dan on what had happened, what the doctors had said, how she felt, and what changes had been made to her medications. Their answers reassured her, but even more than that, her mom's appearance and behavior relieved Alex of the worry that had been hovering since yesterday.
Of course, there were signs that her mother wasn't one hundred percent normal: she allowed Alex and Bobby to take over her kitchen to prepare dinner. If she was at full strength, Alex knew she'd have insisted on helping in some way. Instead she'd sat at the table with Dan, watching and chatting. It was only now, after dinner, that she protested.
"You believe me, Bobby," Alex's mom said, "don't you?"
Though her mom wasn't at her usual physical strength, she still had her usual mental energy, and that was a good sign. Alex was glad to let Bobby receive some of her mom's intensity.
As Alex shifted slightly in her seat, for an instant she felt Bobby's arm lying across the back of her chair, but he withdrew as soon as she touched him.
"Of course I believe you," Bobby said. "Alex does, too. So..." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder toward the stove. "There's plenty of salmon left – anybody want more?"
"No, thanks," her mom said, "but you can write down that recipe for me. I'd like to make it again sometime."
As they chatted, Alex thought about her partner. They hadn't yet discussed their close encounter in Ben Beldsen's office, but she could tell that Bobby was gaining confidence. She'd had fun shopping and helping him cook, and twice so far during the meal she'd leaned back in her chair to find his arm at her back. That kind of behavior was rare for him these days.
Alex decided to give him some encouragement.
He was hunched forward, writing out the salmon recipe, so she quietly laid her arm across his chair. In another minute he finished and sat up straight.
Instead of withdrawing, as Bobby had done, Alex turned her palm to make fuller contact.
Bobby looked at her – she knew he was surprised. She calmly reached with her other hand to take the recipe card from him.
"I don't think I ever cooked with capers before," Alex said as she scanned the recipe. "Do you even have any in the house, Mom?"
Her mother shook her head. "If I do, I'm afraid the freshness date is sometime in the nineties."
"Oh, there's half a jar left," Bobby said. "We'll leave it with you."
Alex rubbed his back lightly before moving her arm away. She glanced at the card once more, and handed it over. "Mom, you should trade recipes with Bobby. I bet he'd like your chicken recipe – the one with wine and onion soup."
For the rest of their visit, Alex made a point of touching Bobby – casually patting his arm or shoulder, or brushing elbows as they loaded the dishwasher. It wasn't much more contact than they usually made over the course of a work day, but her plan worked.
They were back at the kitchen table, with cups of tea and a plate of Italian cookies. Alex once again felt his arm across her chair. This time he didn't move away, and she smiled as she relaxed against him.
Unfortunately, it wasn't long before Alex's cell phone chimed with a new text message.
"Sorry, guys," she said as she pulled her phone from her belt. "I'm pretty sure this is work..." She read the message. "Yep - we got the warrant for the financials."
"What about GPS and phone?" Bobby asked.
Alex shrugged and held out the phone for him to see.
"Well, I know what that means," her mom said, rising from her seat. "It means I finally get my kitchen back! Who knows, Dan? They might even let me push the button to run the dishwasher – hallelujah!"
As they approached the front door, Alex's mom said, "You can stop worrying about me now." She held her arms open. "Okay?"
She stepped into her mom's embrace. "That's not going to happen – I can't help worrying, Mom."
"I know, honey," her mom replied, kissing Alex's cheek, "but believe me: I know what a stroke feels like, and this isn't it."
"I'm just glad you're all right." Alex returned the kiss.
"Me, too," her mom said. "You take care of your partner, and don't let anything else fall on his head." She turned to Bobby. "Come here, you."
He received a hug and kiss as well. "Thanks for letting us come," he said.
"Next time I'll cook for you, dear," Alex's mom said, patting his cheek. "Take care of my Alex."
"Okay," Bobby said with a chuckle. His eyes darted briefly over to Alex, and then he reached out to shake hands with Dan. She recognized his embarrassment at the endearment.
"And thanks for the beautiful flowers." Her mom held the door for Alex and Bobby as they went out.
When they reached the car, Alex said, "Wait a sec." She crooked her index finger to beckon Bobby. As he came back around from the passenger side, she opened her arms to him.
Bobby hesitated a moment before leaning down to embrace her.
Alex pulled him close. "This was a great idea. Thanks," she said, embarrassed at the tightness she felt in her throat. He shifted slightly, as though to move away, but she held on, turning her face into the side of his neck. "I needed this."
"I know," he said, rubbing her back.
Alex finally loosened her grasp, but stayed close. She gazed up at him. Sometimes it grated on her that he knew her so well, but tonight it was a comfort.
Bobby let his hands rest on her waist – for the second time that day. He said, "She was a little on edge at times, I thought. Maybe she was trying to prove to you that she was her normal self?"
"Could be. She's usually pretty edgy, though," Alex said with a grin. "Where do you think I got it from?"
"So you think she's all right?"
Alex sighed. "Mostly all right, I guess. Better than I was expecting."
Bobby stepped back a little. "Do you think we can do this again soon? Cook for them?"
"Not likely," she replied. "I'd love to, but we'd have to get in line behind the rest of the family, and by then Mom will be fed up with all the kid-glove treatment."
"Oh."
"That reminds me," Alex said, digging into her purse. "You want to drive? I promised to call the others – Mom was right about the status report."
He held out his hand to receive the keys. "You're letting me drive your car? Wow."
"I know, I know," she said, rounding the car to the passenger side. "And I had the seat and mirrors at just the right setting for me..."
MCS, 1PP, NY
Wednesday, May 21
Alex looked up from her study of Ron Winter's bank and credit card records. She checked the time: it was nearly ten-thirty, and her muscles and brain were feeling stiff. She needed to stretch a little; Bobby could probably use a short break, too. She glanced across the squad room, and saw that he was still in the video room, reviewing the Winter Market surveillance tapes.
The judge had only approved the search warrant for Ron's financials. For some reason he'd refused their request for phone and GPS records. It was aggravating, but they went to work to find him more evidence.
While Alex went through the records, Bobby checked the tapes to see if Ron appeared in the Brooklyn store before or after the shutdowns. They'd reasoned that if they saw Ron clearly checking out the security system, and if they could show he'd purchased a security app for his iPhone, the judge would grant the rest of their warrant request.
Alex called out as she approached the open door of the video room. "Hey, I need coffee. Let's hit the all-night donut joint. I'm buying. Oh boy, look at you!"
Bobby had swiveled his chair to face her. "What?"
She pointed to his injured forehead. "Amazing Technicolor bruises, that's what. It's not bothering you?"
He shook his head, and looked back at the TV screen. "I only got through the first three shutdowns..."
She grasped his sleeve and pulled gently. "That's why they invented the pause button, Bobby. Besides, at this hour we're not going to find a judge to sign a new warrant, no matter what we find."
"Okay." He set down the remote control and slowly rose, rolling his shoulders. "What'd you find?" he asked. "Any sign of the stolen cash?"
"It didn't show up in Ron's accounts. He could use it, though - he's a big spender. If he did take the seventy-five hundred from the safe, it'd barely make a dent in what he owes." She led the way toward the elevators.
"How bad?" Bobby asked.
"Over thirty grand. He's got four credit cards, and he's near the limit on every one. He's keeping up with payments for the most part, but he's in it up to his eyeballs."
"What does he spend it on?" Bobby asked.
"Nothing illicit, but don't get between him and the home shopping channel," she said. "Electronics, furniture, restaurants, theaters, vacations, home improvement."
"And smart phone apps?"
She pressed the call button for the elevator, then lightly rubbed her forehead. "Lots, including the day before the first shutdown, but I haven't been able to identify the particular ones he bought. It'll take a little digging, and I need caffeine for that." She looked up at Bobby. "Ron was there in the tapes, wasn't he?"
He nodded. "For the first shutdown, it took a while for him to show up. I don't think he realized right away what he'd done. But the next two are telling: he comes in afterward and goes straight to the control panel in the stock room."
"To see if it could trace back to him," Alex said. "He was feeling guilty."
"Looks like it. I haven't checked the rest yet."
"Once we know he bought a security app for his phone," she said, "together with his behavior at the store - we'll get the rest of the warrant tomorrow, and then we can match Ron's phone activity to the shutdowns. We can test it out – set off our own shutdown."
Bobby scratched at his neck. "Let's go to his Long Island City store tomorrow morning – we need to know what time Ron actually left on Monday. It should be on the security tapes. We need to talk to the assistant manager – Ron said he got a call from him that night."
"The funeral is tomorrow at ten. Some of the employees may go to the service."
"Oh, right. We should get there first thing, then." The elevator opened, and they stepped inside. As they rode down to street level, Bobby asked, "You want something to eat, or just coffee?"
"I'm still feeling pretty full from dinner," she said. "Didn't you get enough to eat of your own cooking?"
"Uh, well, there was, there was enough for them to have it again tomorrow, so... I didn't, umm..." Bobby shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the floor.
"You're funny." Alex smiled and bumped him with her elbow. "Never admit to my mom that you left her house hungry – she sees that as a personal failure. Let's go to the noodle shop, then, instead of donuts – I like their soup."
The elevator opened and she strode toward the main entrance, slowing down just enough to let Bobby catch up and open the door for her.
It had rained briefly that evening, and the mild, fresh air outside felt good. Alex was relaxed as she and Bobby walked briskly. They'd gone a block or so when Bobby spoke. "Eames? I was thinking: if we can't cook again for your mom, maybe I could cook for you, sometime?"
She'd been waiting for this. After giving him what she hoped was clear encouragement at her mom's house, Alex had decided to let Bobby take the next step. She wasn't surprised it had taken several hours - he needed time to think and plan.
"Let's, um..." she said, and paused to look around. The Chinese noodle shop was small and was usually crowded, even this late at night. She wanted to give him her full attention.
They'd just passed a deserted bus stop; Alex abruptly turned back and sat on the bench. Bobby stared at her in confusion. She waved him closer and patted the spot beside her.
It took him a couple seconds to catch on, but his expression suddenly cleared, and he joined her on the bench.
She faced him as she said, "You said something about dinner?"
Bobby clasped his hands together and pressed them between his knees. "Yeah. I'd-" He stopped to clear his throat. "I think it's a good idea for us to eat together more often... We have to eat anyway, and..." He was moving restlessly. "Does that sound all right to you?"
"Eating together? We do that already."
"I know, but I'd like, um, to cook for you."
"Oh." She hoped she sounded encouraging.
"It's better than – you know, healthier than eating out all the time, and more relaxing, and economical..." He looked more than a little worried.
"And if you're the one cooking," Alex said, "it tastes better, too." She reached out to lay her hand on his arm, and his fidgeting paused. "I'd like that, Bobby."
"You would?"
"Yes. When?"
Bobby took in a long breath and let it out slowly, probably calming himself. Was he surprised she agreed so easily? Alex smiled at his nervousness and rubbed his arm lightly.
"Are Wednesdays good for you?" he asked. "Or Thursdays? Really, any day."
Suddenly she felt off balance – Alex had been expecting him to name a single day. "Days? Plural?"
"Whatever's best for you."
"Every week?" She knew what he'd said, but she was still mentally scrambling to comprehend his offer. "Dinner together every week – on the same day?"
To his credit, Bobby didn't lose confidence or backpedal. He must have known she'd be surprised by the invitation. "Mm-hmm. If it's always the same day, it'll be easier to keep the day clear..."
Alex thought about it. Bobby wanted a standing date – or something like a date. She certainly didn't object to having him cook for her on a regular basis. Her only uncertainty was the date aspect of his offer – if that's what it was.
Bobby's actions earlier in the day told her he wasn't simply interested in the economic merits of eating together. Neither was Alex. The idea of a special time with him - away from work, built into her weekly schedule – was very appealing. They were comfortable with each other; there'd be no stress of forming a new relationship. They already pretty much knew the worst about each other. It was time to work on knowing the best of each other.
Dinner with Bobby would be nice. That left her with one question.
"Would this be... dating?" she asked.