A/N 1: OK so I said I had in mind actors for Becker, Isle and Carruthers. I now have a Dreyfeus: Lana Parilla, the evil queen from Once Upon a Time.

~.~.~.~.~

CHAPTER NINETEEN: RECONNAISSANCE

Las Vegas
10:30PM Monday evening

Bobby was walking out the front doors of The Mandalay when his phone rang. It was the two detectives, Heit and Estevez, the ones heading the investigation into the Carruthers killing.

"Goren," he said.

The sidewalk and street outside the hotel were wet; a light rain had fallen while he'd been inside, but the sky was already beginning to clear. It was a welcome sight to Bobby… symbolic of his desire to sweep aside the angst and cobwebs and wet cotton he'd felt his skull filled with for the past few hours. Except for playing Dreyfeus at the bar, he'd felt like he'd been on his heels ever since hearing the news about Eames in Ross's office.

Time for that to change.

He signalled one of the bellhops for a cab while he settled details with the detective, agreeing to their suggestion of a neutral meeting place for a heads together to compare notes far away from curious ears at the conference and the precinct. And away from the ADA.

It was amazing how something as seemingly inconsequential as a phone call could put him back on track. Bobby thought about the other times in his life when a crisis had intruded on his work life: his mom's illness, Eames's kidnapping, his brother… all had been thrust upon him. All had left him unbalanced, on edge, mistrusting all the tools he usually counted on to get the job done. When he was tackling a case for work, he felt capable and in control… even when the people or circumstances were precarious. When he was forced to deal with things that affected him personally, it felt as though none of his pistons were firing in sync. He felt like nothing just came to him, everything had to be manufactured or excavated.

Those two minutes on the phone with Heit and Estevez made him fall back in sync with the investigation. They'd been thinking along the same lines as he… and even better, they had been the ones to suggest a course of action.

He'd badly wanted to have a chance to chat with them about the case; where they were at with the interviews, if there was anything new with the evidence… what they thought about Eames. He'd gotten the impression from the taped interview Ross had emailed him on the plane that at the beginning at least, they weren't as quick to condemn her as Dreyfeus had been… He needed to know if that had changed.

And there were certain things he was willing to share with them, particularly if their meeting went well and he was comfortable with their direction; he already had confidence in their skills.

Bobby was actually a bit surprised by the way they'd framed the invitation; Heit, actually, since he was the one who'd been on the line. The detective hadn't come right out and said that they wanted to avoid Dreyfeus, but he'd intimated it.

It was very interesting. Did they share his suspicions about the ADA?

o.o.o.o.o

Heit had suggested a diner off the strip, about halfway between The Mandalay and the precinct where Eames was being held. He found himself fretting briefly about the delay in seeing her, but he knew it was in his best interest to set his impatience aside.

They were already there when Bobby arrived, and he stood in the shadows by the front window for a few moments to observe them.

They both looked shabby and a little bit the worse for wear, but still with the hungry, businesslike look of homicide detectives.

What would have happened to him if he'd gone into Homicide? He'd never been drawn to that department, although he knew he was up for it. Not the right personality, maybe. Homicide detectives were a bit scrappier, a bit more gregarious. A tribe unto themselves, even moreso than Narcotics. Narcotics officers were shaped by their environment, but homicide detectives were shaped by their occupation, in the manner of chess players and engineers. He thought to himself that maybe he hadn't wanted to be molded that way. He'd wanted to have a bit more control over what his job did to him. Also, homicide detectives needed to work together, and for a long time he'd thought he couldn't do that.

Heit and Estevez looked solid. She was younger than him, but still self-assured and professional. Ross had said in his email that Heit was an eighteen year veteran, and Estevez had twelve. Four years and a bit together, ever since Estevez had earned her shield. They were, by all accounts, straight up and dependable. Good solve rate, no issues.

Bobby had a moment of doubt. Could he risk talking to them? Could a mis-step on his part sour the angles he was pursuing?

Playing it right with them wouldn't be as delicate as it had been with Dreyfeus, but he had nevertheless put some thought into how he wanted to come across. He needed their cooperation, and ideally, their trust. If nothing else, he needed their information.

o.o.o.o.o

"So who do you like for it?" Bobby asked casually, staring at the casefile the two detectives had given him to read. In addition to photos and witness statements, the booth where the three detectives sat was littered with empty coffee cups, a dirty ashtray, and the remains of three slices of pie.

The Heit and Estevez had stood to shake his hand when he arrived, and had greeted him coolly, but agreeably.

He assumed that what they'd shown him over the past 25 minutes was most, if not all they had… either way, they'd covered a lot of ground already. With everyone but Lieutenant Becker. He was beginning to have an inkling why Dreyfeus was protecting him from scrutiny.

Re-reading the Eames transcript broke his heart, even without the video, but other than that, there wasn't much to pique his interest.

Heit and Estevez looked at each other. "It's really too early to say," Estevez supplied.

"The law enforcement angle requires an extra-delicate hand," Heit added.

"We're focusing on evidence and interviews."

"And waiting for the forensics."

Bobby shook his head. They were smooth, delivering the party lines with ease and sincerity, but he was smarter than that. "C'mon, remember who you're talking to. You're not waiting for anything. What's the focus of your investigation? Who?"

"Well," Estevez said carefully, "Right now the focus of the investigation is on your partner."

Their faces were both neutral masks, betraying little beyond their words. Little, not nothing. Estevez's mouth tightened minutely as she spoke – a downward curve of disgust.

Bobby repeated his question, watching the two detectives closely. "Who do you like for it?" he said softly.

They looked at each other and, in the manner of a good team, came to a decision that seemed to ease some of their subtle tension. "Well," Estevez said, "We're not liking your partner."

Bobby nodded, keeping his face blank, though inside he was sagging with relief. He knew what had prompted their reticence… they'd been primed by Dreyfeus to expect him to be against Eames. They were even a bit disapproving, although trying to hide it. Good! Good for them. He thought about whether or not to disabuse them of their assumptions. Would he be able to get their full cooperation if they thought he was capable of obstructing them?

His turn had come. "Me neither."

o.o.o.o.o

His gaze was met with mild scepticism as he glanced back and forth between them. Then, before he could adjure them to listen to their guts – no doubt the same organs that had prompted them to reach out to him in the first place – they nodded, perfectly in sync despite not looking at each other, and leaned forward as one, in a gesture of solidarity not only between them, but towards him.

"Good. We thought you'd been brought in to help bury her."

At those words, Bobby felt something in his chest ease. It was a relief to know that someone else saw what he saw. That he wasn't the only one fighting to swim upstream.

"I was," he almost spat. Their attention and the fierceness that he could feel burning in his eyes seemed to draw an invisible forcefield around them, pulling them tighter together while pushing the rest of the world away. "But – whoever that was, doesn't know me very well."

After that, the conversation flowed. They spoke frankly about the two detectives' suspicions that – despite their confidence in her innocence – Eames wasn't being completely truthful.

"She's hiding something, and it's not helping her."

"She is. But it has nothing to do with the murder. Don't worry though, I'll get it out of her when I interview her." He'd already begun thinking about the upcoming interrogation. Purely from a procedural standpoint, he hoped that she'd be able to tell him something they didn't already know; but personally, the closer he came to actually seeing her, the more urgently he felt the need to know how she felt about Becker. Did she still want the blond Lieutenant? Had she loved him? Did she love him still?

Goren also brought up one of his two most pressing questions, which was what Carruthers had done during her absence from the hotel room.

"Have you verified any of the deceased's movements when she was out of the room?" The words came easily, now that he was sinking more thoroughly into the job at hand his wrists didn't ache with worry for Eames.

"No, but the ADA's convinced that Detective Eames made up the story about the vic leaving. She's having us work up the angle that Detective Eames used the vic's room key herself, after the murder." Heit related the information neutrally, but his subtle twitches and Estevez's scowl told him they didn't approve of an ADA having them work an angle.

"Just because the ADA thinks it doesn't make it true," Bobby felt compelled to retort.

"Just because she says it doesn't mean she thinks it," Estevez replied.

"And just because that's what Carruthers told Detective Eames, doesn't mean it's what she actually did." The two Vegas detectives nodded when he said that. Corroboration, that was what was needed. He hoped that was in their plan. "Well whatever turns out to be true, I think we shouldn't shirk on devoting resources to getting something solid on Carruthers's activities, whatever she did that evening."

"We're on it, actually. We had a couple of uniforms ask around, but we're planning on going back to The Mandalay and questioning people tonight."

Goren told them about the dance, and they said they already knew.

They also discussed Patsy Isle.

"Did you know she was in charge of the room designations?" The two detectives nodded. "I haven't figured her out yet, but I think there's something there." He didn't have a good reason to make the request, but he needed to assuage his unease about the twitchy woman. "Do we know much about her? Can we get her jacket?" At their acknowledgement, he added, "And anything else we can lay our hands on?"

"We were thinking of dropping by to interview her tonight," Heit said. "But maybe…"

Estevez finished his sentence. "…we should ask her to come down instead."

"Do it," Goren answered them. "But no hurry. Let's learn all we can about her first. And I wouldn't mind knowing a bit more about Carruthers while we're at it."

The two detectives agreed, and while Estevez called someone at the precinct to get the files he'd asked for, Goren examined their washed-out faces under the standard-issue diner fluorescents. New York, Vegas, wherever, dives like this were the same all over. Now that he'd come clean to them a bit, revealed himself, he could see the curiosity bubbling up in them. He owed them as much honesty as they'd given him… He tapped the table with a slow, steady rhythm. "You got anything you wanna ask me?"

Turned out they were curious about Lieutenant Becker, who they'd been champing at the bit to get at but had been thwarted thus far. He told them about Becker's answers, how the grieving boyfriend had acted, and Goren's impressions of the veracity of his statement, particularly his whereabouts the night of the murder.

They also asked him about the rumours going around about him, Eames, Becker and others… he repeated what he'd heard from Ross, that someone seemed to know a lot about them, but the information was old, drying up at least a year ago.

Before they broke to head back to the precinct, Goren had one more thing he needed to put on the table. "Dreyfeus should be very pleased to have two such sensible detectives taking the lead on this." He looked up slyly, knowing that they'd see the play for what it was.

Despite that, they didn't disappoint. At the words, both Heit and Estevez leaned back a bit and squirmed.

"Or not," Bobby added. Their reactions confirmed his suspicion, so he threw them a bone. "Becker suspects Dreyfeus. Do you?"

o.o.o.o.o

He never would have met Eames. That's what would have happened to him if he had gone into Homicide. He would never have met Eames.

~.~.~.~.~

WORDS: 2264 UPLOADED Sunday, April 15, 2012

If you can read this, please review, my pretties!