Neighborhood of 1PP, NY

Wednesday, May 21

The metal bench of the bus stop wasn't particularly comfortable, but Alex was glad they were having this conversation there instead of the squad room. Even at eleven o'clock at night they couldn't hope for privacy anywhere in One PP. People walking past them on the street paid no attention.

They were sitting side by side on the bench. Bobby had his forearms resting on his thighs, and he turned to gaze at her somberly.

"I've been thinking about this," he said.

"There's a surprise," Alex said, grinning.

"Yeah, well... To answer your question: yes, it would be like – yes, dating."

"Like dating, or actually dating?" Alex asked. Bobby suddenly looked panicky, so she added, "My answer is yes, Bobby. I just want to know what..." She caught his gaze. "...what you mean."

"What are my intentions?" he asked. He was still cautious.

Alex nudged her elbow into his side. "Let me rephrase: why did it take you so long to ask? I thought you were sick or something, the way you were acting the past couple weeks."

A yellow cab slowed down as it came near the bus stop, and Alex saw the window roll down. The driver looked out at them hopefully, and called, "No bus running this late!" She waved him off.

"Sheesh, a cabbie looking for a fare?" she said. "When does that ever happen?"

Bobby chuckled. He grew serious again as he studied Alex's face for a long moment, until she thought he might actually kiss her. She'd be surprised if he did, but she wouldn't resist. During their short stint of dating a few years ago, she'd learned he was a wonderful kisser. She steadily held his gaze as she waited.

He didn't kiss her. Instead, he slouched back against the bench and stretched his long legs toward the curb. "I was, uh," he said, rubbing his hands together. "All that time I was thinking about the best way to bring it up to you."

Alex almost scolded him for being shy, but she held her tongue. The past year of their partnership had been their most difficult, starting with her own kidnapping by Jo Gage, then his mother's death, and all the way through to Bobby's dangerous undercover assignment and return from suspension. She'd spent a lot of that time being angry at her partner, so she really couldn't blame him for being cautious.

"I guess you got the idea tonight?" she asked. "From cooking for my Mom?"

He nodded, shrugged, and then sat upright again. "I wanted something that would be comfortable for you – for both of us."

"Ah, I get it," Alex said. "Old folks at home."

Bobby looked at her, his head tilted. "You? Never. It's just easier to fit into your schedule this way. But if you'd rather go out..." He let the sentence trail off.

Alex leaned back and stared out across the street as she considered his proposal. Dinner at his place every week: it felt right for them.

Of course, they'd probably end up talking about their current case, and Bobby's table might very well be covered with files and photographs along with dishes and food. But that also felt right for them.

She was still musing when Bobby asked, "Why did we stop going out? Before, I mean. Were you – well, why did you stop?"

Alex wasn't surprised by his question, but she felt awkward as she framed her answer. "It wasn't... I didn't..." She turned a little to face him more fully. "When I came back from leave, after the baby, I wanted our partnership to be strong again. I was kind of worried that we might be out of sync – on the job, I mean."

Bobby nodded.

"You thought about that, too?" she asked.

"Yeah, but we got right back."

She grinned. "We did. I felt like work was the strongest part of our relationship. Going out was fun, it was great, but it was... I don't know – it didn't seem so... so necessary once I got back to work with you."

Bobby gave the tiniest nod of his head. Alex knew it wasn't exactly agreement – he was encouraging her to continue.

"Also, I was never sure if Captain Deakins knew about us," she said. "I didn't want to mess with our partnership."

"So the job was more important than the... personal relationship?"

Alex sighed. "I didn't think of it like that, no. It was about what worked best for us. Dating worked for us while I was out on maternity, and then..."

"...and then working worked for us when you came back?" Bobby finished for her.

She shrugged. "Hi, my name is Alex. I'm a workaholic."

He held her gaze for a long time before asking, "And what about now?"

"Now," she said, "now I want more than work. We can do both."

"Good."

They sat quietly for a while. She could tell Bobby was watching for any sign of regret. She had none. Although the moment was about as unromantic as it could be, Alex was happy and full of sweet anticipation. They hadn't kissed or even held hands. But she didn't need that now – they'd find the right time and place for intimacy and tenderness.

She said, "Wednesday's usually the best day for me. So... next week? Your place?"

He nodded and smiled.

"Okay, deal," Alex said as she stood up. "Let's get to the noodle shop - they're only open till midnight."

Winter Market

Long Island City, Queens, NY

Thursday, May 22

"Mr. Delacruz to Customer Service." The young man deepened his voice and spoke slowly into the microphone, broadcasting his words over the store's PA system. "Mr. Delacruz to Customer Service." He released the on-air button and nodded solemnly to the detectives. "He'll be with you in just a minute."

"Thank you," Bobby said, lowering his voice as well.

Alex hid her amusement by turning to look out at the store. This Winter Market – the original store – was smaller than the new one in Brooklyn, but it looked just as clean and well-stocked. Employees wore yellow polo shirts embroidered with the Winter Market logo.

The young man at the Customer Service counter had a badge dangling around his neck: "I'm Marty, and I'm here to help you!" It sported a glittery Employee of the Month sticker. Marty was probably aiming for a management position.

She spotted some mirrored half-spheres mounted in the ceiling, marking the locations of security cameras. Those cameras would tell them when Ron left the store on Monday.

Last night they'd been surprised to discover there was no sign of Ron on the Brooklyn store's security videos either before or after the fourth and fifth system shutdown, as there had been for the first three.

They hadn't agreed about the importance of Ron's absence. Alex figured that Ron didn't need to make an appearance for his final tests; he only wanted to make people blasé about the shutdowns, so they wouldn't be on alert when he took the cash. Bobby believed Ron would want to be in control of the situation – he was insecure enough that he'd need to know that the shutdown went exactly as planned before he took the chance of stealing from the safe.

Bobby had once again pointed out the four-day pause between the first three and last three shutdowns. He suggested that someone else caused the later ones. This idea opened a gaping hole in their case. Who else was out there?

"Here he is," Marty said, pointing.

Mr. Delacruz wore a shirt and tie, with his sleeves rolled back. He was a slim man, only a few inches taller than Alex, and had a neatly trimmed goatee-type beard. He approached them with a friendly smile, reaching to shake hands.

"How can I help you?" he said. His eyes darted to the shield on Bobby's lapel and then to the one on Alex's belt. "Have you found the person who k-" His grin faded as he faltered on the word "killed". "-who attacked Mr. Winter? We were all so shocked at the news..." He looked at Marty, who nodded his agreement.

"Were you here on Monday night?" Bobby asked.

"Yes, from two o'clock until closing. In fact," Mr. Delacruz said, "Marty was with me in the back office when I got the call from John Lasalle about - about what happened."

Marty nodded sadly. "Mr. Winter was a great boss."

"That's what we've been hearing from everybody," Alex said. She exchanged a brief glance with her partner, and decided they should split up. She'd talk to Marty while Bobby questioned Mr. Delacruz.

She smiled at Marty, and pivoted a little, putting her back to Bobby. "So, Marty, are you in college? I bet you're taking business courses, right?"

As Marty answered her, Bobby put a hand on Delacruz's shoulder and steered him down the closest aisle. She heard Bobby say, "You know, I've always wondered how you keep track of freshness dates..."

Alex asked Marty, "Did Mr. Winter know about your studies?"

"Sure – when I told him I was studying business, he said I could transfer to the new store and train with Mr. Lasalle if I want." Marty became animated as he talked about his career plans.

"Or you could stay here and train with Ron Winter?"

Suddenly Marty's energy dissipated. His eyes darted left and right, and he shrugged. "I guess I could do that, too."

"You get along better with Mr. Lasalle?"

"Well, it's, um, no, it's just that the schedule there will work out better for my class schedule."

Alex didn't buy that excuse. It was clear Marty had some problem with Ron Winter, but she didn't press the point. Instead, she nodded and said, "So tell me about Monday. What time did you punch in?"

"Four-thirty, after my class, and I worked till closing."

"And you saw Ron," she said. "When did he leave?"

"Five-thirty."

If Ron had gone straight home as he claimed, he'd certainly have been there at six-thirty for the call from the school about his son. Alex asked, "Is that normal for him?"

"Umm, sort of," Marty said. "I mean, he's usually here till six, but sometimes he leaves a little early." He must have realized he was ratting out the boss, because he quickly added, "And sometimes he stays late, too."

"Sure," Alex said, "it all balances out, right?" She wanted to keep Marty talking. "Does Ron ever call from home to check on things?"

"I don't think so." Marty shook his head slowly. "There was one time last summer Mr. Delacruz called him late at night – oh, wait, that was Mr. Winter senior."

"What happened?" Alex asked. It seemed off-topic, but she didn't want to discourage Marty.

"We had a big refrigerator in the produce storeroom that died. The temperature sensors went off at, like, ten o'clock at night."

"Wow, where do you get an industrial-size refrigerator at that time of night?"

Marty smiled broadly. "It was so great. Mr. Winter hired a refrigerated truck, parked it in the loading dock, and we moved the produce into it. I think it all took... maybe two hours total. Everything stayed one-hundred percent fresh until a repairman came out and fixed the refrigerator!"

"Clever guy," she said.

"Yeah, he really was."

Alex saw several framed photographs displayed on the wall of the Customer Service area. The picture of Ron Winter was labeled 'Owner/Manager', and Mr. Delacruz's title was 'Assistant Manager'. She'd seen black-framed photocopied pictures of Robert Winter posted around the store in his memory, but he didn't appear on the Customer Service wall.

Technically this store was Ron's responsibility, and yet in a crisis they'd called his father. Alex wondered when Ron had finally been informed about the refrigerator problem.

It was time to wrap up – Marty had confirmed that Ron had more than an hour when he was AWOL. "Thanks for your help, Marty. If you think of anything else," she said, "anything unusual that happened on Monday, please give me a call." She handed the young man her card. "Can you point the way to Mr. Delacruz's office?"

They were still in the Winter Market parking lot, sitting in their car. Alex had joined her partner and Mr. Delacruz in time to see the video footage of Ron leaving the store at five-thirty on Monday.

She finished a call to Captain Ross, and turned to her partner. "Ross said this will get us the search warrant," she said. "Ron left early and instructed Delacruz to call his cell at six – supposedly at home, hoping to establish an alibi. And we know he wasn't home then."

"The thing is," Bobby said, "Mr. Delacruz says it's not unusual for Ron – not the phone call, but leaving early."

"Marty said the same thing."

"Ron's not exactly dedicated to the family business."

Alex frowned and shook her head. "So where was he, and why did he lie to us about it? You think it's money problems?"

Bobby shifted in the passenger seat to face her. "What are the signs when a person starts to panic about his debt?"

They'd seen it often enough. "He tries to raise cash by selling off things without being noticed," she replied. "Cuts corners where it doesn't really matter..."

"Like not buying expensive coffee, or renting movies instead of going out," Bobby said.

"Yeah." She gazed at Bobby, grasping his point. She'd spent the previous evening looking at Ron's expenses. "Ron's not doing any of that. Just last week he charged four hundred dollars for a new patio set. And I saw a charge for a movie theater the weekend before."

Bobby nodded. "He's not worried about the money..."

"Although maybe he should be," Alex said.

"...so why go to all that trouble to steal cash from the safe?"

"On the other hand," she said, "the store's books show he's either skimming or incredibly sloppy. Frannie's had to clean up after him every month."

"That fits the profile of someone who feels stuck in a job he hates," Bobby replied. "It's a passive-aggressive response: avoiding responsibilities, shoddy work, cutting out early..."

"Yeah. But Ron is worried about something," she said. "He lied to us. If he caused those shutdowns by accident, he'd have told the security company, or he'd have stopped." She thought for a few moments. "If it wasn't about money, maybe Ron had some reason for trying to delay the opening?"

Before Bobby had a chance to reply, his phone rang. As he listened to the caller he looked intently at Alex. "Thanks... Who else knows about this? ...Okay, keep it that way for now. We're on our way," he said, and then snapped the phone shut. "That was Alonzo Matthews. Jeanne told him I'd asked about smart phone access, and he got his IT guy to look at the shutdown codes again."

"And?" Alex was pretty sure she knew what was coming.

"He says it's not the same full information as their tag, but he was able to identify two different sources for the shutdown commands."

"Two sources - phones?"

He nodded. "It's possible. Since the software's only partially enabled, they can't track back to a number."

"We can," Alex said. "We get the search warrant for Ron's phone. We send a command from his black-market security app." She ticked off the steps on her fingers. "Safety Shield compares the code, or whatever they call it... Bingo."

She pulled her seat belt across her lap, turned the key to start the engine, and put the car into gear.

"There were two sources," Bobby said, also buckling his seat belt. "Matthews said there was one for the first three shutdowns plus the last, and a different one for the fourth and fifth."

"That's the part you didn't want him to tell anyone else? That there's another person crashing the system?"

"Yeah. This second person thinks Ron's going to be blamed for all the shutdowns – we need to keep it that way."

She thought about it as she pulled out onto the busy street. A thought popped into mind.

"Hey, Bobby - how did Ron even know to try a smart phone app in the first place?" she asked.