Chapter 12 - Greetings
x x x
The ride is long and boring, and there's no comfortable placement for her leg in the cast.
She can't stop thinking about Bobby.
The few times she leaves the city, it's usually with him.
Sitting on a plane with him is never easy. He's constantly fidgeting and unable to sit in coach. The 6 foot 4 detective needs a row of his own. He'd pace the aisle whenever he can't sit any longer, and at that height, he's hunched over.
The flight attendants who he couldn't flirt with would tell him to sit back down and fasten his seat belt.
She'd try to help him out. She'd give him an aisle seat or swap seats if the passenger in front of him decided to push the seat back.
Alex laughs as she thinks back on it. But missing him also causes her eyes to tear up.
He's been her anchor since she got to the hospital. He knows how to be supportive without hovering. He wouldn't let other people treat her like a victim.
She finishes eating the sandwich Bobby gave her, closes her eyes, and tries to block out everything for the next few hours.
x x x
Around 6:30 pm central time, they arrive at the Redstone Women's Center. It's about 20 miles southwest of Chicago. Nothing but corn fields as far as she can see. Nearest town is a few miles.
Redstone is a two-story red brick building. The outside of the building looks cold and depressing.
She doesn't want to spend an hour here, much less any longer than that.
Dana tells her it's a center for women of domestic abuse. It also houses women seeking treatment for substance abuse.
They pull up to the entrance and park. Dana turns around and hands her an Illinois ID card. She notices that they copied her picture from her New York license.
Most information is wrong except for her date of birth, height, and weight. Her name is Amy Eastman of Carbondale, IL.
"Where is Carbondale?" she asks.
"Southern Illinois."
"What the hell is there? A cornfield? What kind of life did I have?"
Okay, so she's cranky.
They were going to stop for food an hour ago so she could take pain medication for her back, but that didn't happen. Sitting in one spot for several hours when she isn't in the mood to be here makes her irritable and fidgety.
She laughs to herself. Goren's rubbed off on me.
"It's a suburban town," Dana replies. "I have a cheat sheet for you with everything you need to explain to people. And they won't bombard you with questions until you've had the chance to go over it. I'll see to that."
They enter the facility. There's a reception area where two female workers are seated. A uniformed security officer stands beside them.
They all stop talking and look toward the door as Alex enters.
Her gaze drifts around the lobby area. There's some décor if you count the baskets full of silk flowers and those motivational posters tacked to the walls. Someone tried to make it look warm and inviting.
I'd rather stay at a motel.
She remembers this motel where she and Bobby stayed in West Virginia. Rustic and very much Bobby's tastes. She couldn't wait to leave. It had animal heads on the wall. There was bad lighting, peeling wallpaper, stains on the floor that may have come from a past crime scene, and the diner next door smelled of days-old bacon grease.
She's introduced to the front desk staff. Two ladies, one who resembles her 8th-grade math teacher, the other who looks about 16 years old.
A uniformed security guard stands beside them with an arm propped on the counter.
The orientation begins with a tour and a list of fifty things a resident cannot do.
No jumping out the window? Darn.I can't exactly jump, but crawling out did come to mind.
"This is prison," Alex groans.
"Sweetheart, I know this is a tough time for you, but you will adjust. It does get easier," says Mary-Lynn, the elder of the two desk ladies.
She'd rather take her chances with Malik and his thugs. She has her Ruger at home in a lockbox. She'll be fine.
"I want to go to my room."
The younger worker, named Dory, holds up her key and points down the hallway to Alex's left. "End of the hallway, suite 121."
Meanwhile, Agent Kirkpatrick and US Marshal Fargo carry her bags to her room.
Alex arrives at the door with the key. She suddenly feels like she's being watched and looks to her right down the next long hallway. Two women are peering out from the door to one room. A third woman with knitting needles and a yarn skein tucked in her arm watches from the doorway across from the other two.
Must be a shortage of entertainment around here.
She unlocks the door and enters her suite. The agents walk in behind her and set her things down.
It's very basic. Livingroom area has two chairs and a sofa. A flat-screen TV on the wall. Not that she watches much TV, but she's glad to see it. Something to pass the time.
To her left is a kitchenette. Across the living room, there's a short hallway that leads to a bedroom and a bathroom.
She hobbles toward the bedroom, which is furnished with a queen-sized bed and a large dresser. A small window overlooks a field. At least she's not staring at a brick wall. Tree leaves are starting to turn colors, and immediately she's thinking about Central Park with its fall leaves, and homesickness hits her like a freight train.
A knock on the door interrupts her thoughts. She doesn't want to see anyone, but it's probably Dana, so she limps back into the living room area and opens the door.
Dana hands her a large envelope that contains her profile. Alex mentions that she's starving, and since the dining hall is closed, Dana promises to run out and get her a sandwich.
They say their goodbyes; Alex closes the door, goes over to the couch, and sits down to look it over. She's supposed to elevate her knee as much as possible, so she props it up with the throw pillows on the couch.
I'm an out-of-work police officer with an abusive ex-husband.My ex-husband's name is Craig Eastman. He is an assistant basketball coach. We moved from New York to southern Illinois when his mother got sick to be near her. He took a job at the university. I quit working because the long hours were causing stress on the marriage. After a terrible fight, I filed for divorce and moved out. He refused to sign the papers, and the assaults began—charges of stalking, battery, and rape. Craig was arrested and is out on bail.
She reads a little more, then tosses the papers onto the couch beside her, shaking her head.
If any husband of mine did this, he'd be the one on crutches.
x
An hour later, there's a knock on her door. She answers and sees that Dana has a bag from a local sandwich shop and a bottle of water for her.
"Thanks."
"You getting settled in?"
"Working on it," she replies.
"Don't forget the forms."
She nods. "Are you going back to New York?"
"I may be back and forth for a while. You'll have Kirkpatrick and Fargo. Good night, Amy."
She cringes a little at being referred to as anything other than 'Alex' or 'Eames.'
"Good night."
x
She finishes the center's required forms and hands them to the night security agent. She meets the three women from the hallway on the way back to her room. They intercept her path, wanting to know who the new person is.
She's not really in the mood to be social but might as well get introductions out of the way.
First, there's Tess.
Bobby's taught her a lot about reading body language, and Tess comes across as guarded and moody. Probably late 30s to 40s. Might have served time at some point. Most likely a rule-breaker. Tess hates it here as much as she does. Doesn't trust anyone, except maybe the two ladies standing with her.
If she ever wants to smuggle in alcohol, which is against the rules, or break out of here, she knows who to ask.
Next is Roni. Probably in her early 30s. S eems young and naïve but also friendly and sweet. She'd hug you whether you want it or not.
Last, there's Ivy. Roni and Tess appear to be in their 30s, while Ivy's closer to 60. Ivy knits and bakes, and that's probably her way of coping in a place like this. She seems very private but probably listens to everyone else's problems.
They're a strange group of misfits, but they have each other's back.
Alex gives them a shortened version of her prepared background, tells the group goodbye, and starts unpacking some of her things.
About 10 minutes later, there's a knock on her door, and it's Ivy. She brought over a pillow she had made. Not that she's interested in decorative pillows, but Ivy presents it as something to prop her knee.
Ivy also offers to come in and help her finish unpacking. She moves a few boxes, furniture, and other things, making them easier for her to unpack or access.
She's not overly chatty, nor does she overstay her welcome.
She already likes Ivy.
x
With most of her things put away, she settles on her bed. While digging through her bag, she sees the phone Bobby gave her.
Since she's probably free and clear of interruptions for a while, she calls him.
He answers on the second ring. "Goren."
"Well, I'm here."
"Eames… Glad you called. How was the trip?"
"Long. Uncomfortable. Slept through some of it," she replies.
"How's the place?"
"Well…" she peers around the place, searching for a suitable description. "Basic. Boring. But lots of space." She fills him in on the people she met here.
"Guess it could be worse." She hears him moving around his apartment, probably cleaning up or doing something as he talks. It's something that used to drive her crazy and is now something she misses.
"I hadn't planned on making friends. I planned on Malik getting caught before I left the state. They can turn the car around and take me home."
He chuckles. "I hear you."
The sound of his voice puts her at ease. There's softness and compassion. He's probably tired from the workday, but he's got that soothing voice that typically comes out when he's getting a suspect or accomplice to trust him.
He's letting her talk but interjects with sweet, supportive, and sympathetic comments. She needs this, and he's happy to be that for her.
She pictures Bobby's smile and his warm eyes. He's probably pacing around that Brooklyn apartment with a cigarette in his hand. The scent of a newly-lit cigarette and Bobby's aftershave enter her senses.
"I get that it's tough. I know how much you miss your family," he adds.
"I miss New York, and I haven't even been gone a day.
"They'll catch this guy."
"They should have left it to us."
"Yeah, but he'd be dead before he gets to interrogation."
"Damn right. I just need one shot."
"I just need my bare hands."
"Wha-? Why?"
"I'll break every bone in his body."
"You'll let me get a few punches in, right?"
"Might not be much left," he responds.
A moment later, she hears him trying to stifle a yawn.
"I'm keeping you up." She forgot that it was an hour later in New York, plus he's probably tired from whatever the job was like that day.
"No, I'm good."
"I'll have to owe you for this phone."
"I've got it. We're good, Eames."
She even misses hearing him say, 'Eames.'
"Thank you."
He fills her in a little on his day. He's limited on what he can tell her, but she'd like to know more about his cases because even the snippets he gave sound interesting.
She misses the job. She misses him. It's almost too much.
"Eames…?"
"Yeah?"
"I added some music to your phone."
"Didn't see that…."
"Just some songs I know you like. Some we both like. Some I think you might like. Anyway, it's there. I also put some earphones in the pocket of your bag."
"Thank you. That was sweet."
"You're welcome."
Another thirty minutes fly by where they're talking about random things, but it feels like five minutes, and she glances at the time. "Umm… I'm sorry. I-I should let you go."
There's probably another pain pill she could take tonight, hopefully sending her off to sleep so she won't have to lie awake missing this man.
"Good night, Eames. Call me if you need to."
"Good night. Thanks, Bobby."
After they hang up, she looks through her phone. She sees most of her favorite bands near the top of the list. She scrolls down further and smirks when she notices bands on the list she knows are his favorites.
She selects one of his favorites and settles back in bed.
Dave Matthew's Band's song, 'Crash Into Me,' begins to play.
x
She doesn't remember falling asleep.
It's maybe an hour later when her phone buzzes. Bobby set it to vibrate when he gave it to her.
When her mind wakes up enough to respond to the buzzing phone, she accidentally knocks it off the bed. She reaches around in the dark, but somehow manages to fetch it without falling out of bed herself.
"H-hello?" she answers.
"Eames… Hey, it's me."
Her heart is pounding. "What's up?"
"Sorry to wake you. Keith Fargo, the US Marshal assigned to your case…."
"Yeah?"
"Someone slit his throat. Highway patrol found him dead about an hour ago. No prints. They cleaned it up pretty well."
"WHAT? Why?"
"He's probably got a handful of cases with someone insane enough to go after him. I'll keep an eye on it."
She sighs.
"What?"
"Be careful, Bobby."
"I will. But if there's any reason someone wanted him out of the way to get to you, I'll find out."
"Thanks."
They talk for a few minutes and end the call. She can't fall back to sleep.
Her thoughts are spinning while she wonders if Malik went after Fargo and who else he'd go after to get to her again.
Is she safe here?
What about her family?
xx
New York City
(Four nights later)
Johnny Eames hears a knock at his door, sits up a little straighter, and peers toward the door.
"Bobby? Is that you?" He smiles, reaches for his cane, and then stands up to open the door for his visitor. "Come on in."
"Mr. Eames. Good to see you," Bobby enters, carrying a bag of food in one arm and a small case in the other. "I brought your favorite."
The scent of pot roast wafts through Johnny Eames's home. "That smells delicious."
"I can set up some plates if you're ready to eat," he adds while walking toward the kitchen.
"Sounds good to me," replies Johnny. "My nurse and my other kids only want me to eat chicken, broccoli, and whatever some doctor with a talk show is telling everyone to eat these days," he adds, rolling his eyes.
"A little lean pot roast should be fine. I also brought a salad, red potatoes, and carrots. It's balanced and very tasty. I've eaten at this place before," Bobby explains, dishing the food onto plates. He carries the plates into the dining room and sits them at the table. "I even brought a little dessert."
"I might adopt you, son," says Johnny. He eyes the small case Bobby brought over. "And you remembered that chess set you told me about last time."
"I got it from a friend I served with in the Army. In mint condition. Couldn't wait to show you."
"Still can't believe a set like that exists."
"Yeah, me either. We could play a game after dinner if you're up for it."
"You're on." Johnny starts to push his chair out to sit down. Bobby notices him struggling with the chair's weight and hops up to help him.
He sets Johnny's cane over to the side and sits back down once Johnny is seated.
"And I know I'm not supposed to ask…" prompts Johnny quietly.
"She's good," Bobby answers. "Hates it there and misses everyone."
Johnny's smile lights up his face. "Thank you. I miss her so much."
"Me too." After taking a couple bites of the pot roast, he sets his fork down and wipes his mouth. "I've got a special assignment coming up. I'll be away for a few weeks at least. Possibly longer."
Johnny finishes the bite he just took and wipes his mouth. "Well, I knew this was too good to last. I understand the job is unpredictable. But thank you for keeping me company these last few days. You're like family to us. Telling me how my daughter's doing, even though I know you're not supposed to, it means a lot to me."
"I've enjoyed our visits too."
x x x
It's been a few days, and she is slowly adjusting to her new life.
New doctors. Lots of appointments. She begins counseling sessions. Her counselor is named Marti.
She hates therapy, but Marti is nice and even funny at times. Alex doesn't want to talk about the attack, and so far, Marti's giving her freedom to discuss what she wants.
The only other thing on her mind is Bobby. Although she mentioned him a few times, she tries to steer the conversation away so she doesn't raise suspicions about them. She's not supposed to be in contact with anyone from her former life.
A few days after arriving in Chicago, Dana sets her up with a job at the Bureau. It's part-time, and she can work around her appointments.
She meets with Agent Lee Sullivan from the technology division, who mostly works surveillance. She'll work with Sullivan. One of the agents will bring her and drive her back.
"It's a desk job but it's a little more exciting than pushing paper," Sullivan explains.
She spends a few hours getting familiar with things and returns to the center.
She's anxious to get her knee stronger. She's pushing herself a little more on the exercises and icing it often.
She and Bobby talk every night, with a text or two during the day. If their phone call isn't long enough because of Bobby's job or another disruption, he'll call again later.
According to Bobby, there's been no news on her case.
She's getting to know Tess, Roni, and Ivy. They've all been through hell before coming here, and it mostly involved an abusive spouse or family member. All three ended up with prescription drug or alcohol addictions and are still working through counseling and 12-step programs.
She still hates this place, but having people to talk to makes it a little more bearable.
Ivy brings treats, and the four gather in Tess's room to watch old movies some nights.
She hates lying to them about who she is.
Then there's Bobby who she can't mention to anyone.
Bobby's been incredibly sweet. So easy to talk to. He keeps telling her she'll leave this place, and be back in New York before Christmas, and they'll make plans to do something.
She's trying so hard not to lose her head. Or her heart.
But the thought of getting back to New York and Bobby is keeping her going.
x x x
She survived a week in this place.
Alex gets up early Saturday morning, does her routine knee exercises and some other stretches, and then goes to the dining hall for breakfast. When she returns to her room, reads for a while, then decides to wrap her knee and try to take a shower.
It's getting a little easier, although she has some balance issues.
After getting out of the shower, she returns to the living room. Suddenly, Alex notices something on the floor near her door. It's a greeting card with her cover name, 'Amy Eastman,' on the envelope.
She opens the envelope and removes the card. The outside of the card is blank.
Inside are printed pictures of her from the attack.
Immediately she reacts and drops the card and photos onto the floor.
He found me. Sonofabitch!
The urge to throw up hits immediately and she hurries toward the bathroom.
When she's done, her stomach is sore, and her head begins to throb. She'd like to curl up on her side and lie down. Instead, she puts on some clothes, grabs her keys, and heads for the front desk. Dory is there with John, the security officer.
"Get Agent Lewis, now!" She's still shaking.
"Are you okay?" John asks. He notices the shaking and steps around the corner toward her. Maybe he thinks he'll put a hand on her shoulder to console her, but Alex steps back to keep her distance. John nods that he understands.
"There's been a breach!"
"What happened?"
"I got a card under my door from the person responsible for putting me in this hell hole!" She's about to start screaming, but she knows she's got to keep her cover story.
"Someone slipped it under your door?" John repeats in disbelief.
"Has to be in the last 20 minutes. I was in the shower, came out of the bathroom, and found it."
"I've been here at least that long and never saw anyone near your door."
"Umm… I found the card taped to the front door" says Dory. "It had a post-it note to give to Amy Eastman." Her face turns red when she realizes she may have screwed up. "I-I put it under her door."
"Dory, you need to tell the officer or me on duty about things like this as soon as possible," he reprimands her. He turns back to Alex. "I'm sorry. She's new. I can assure you. You are safe here."
"HE KNOWS I'M HERE!" Alex screams.
"This will never happen again. He will not get in here." John turns back toward Dory."Show me the post-it note."
Dory's crying. "I'm so sorry," she tells Alex. She reaches for the recycling trash can, fetches the post-it note at the top of the pile, and then hands it to John. "I thought it might be from one of the agents…."
John and Dory continue talking about whether the card could have shown up while Dory was washing out her coffee mug and John was in the restroom and whether the night officer left sooner than he was supposed to.
John tracks Agent Kirkpatrick by phone and says he'll be here soon.
Great. Agent Asshole. Just who she needs to see right now.
Kirkpatrick is supposed to bring her to appointments and handle any urgent needs. They're still investigating Inspector Fargo's death, and a new US Marshall will be assigned to her case. Marshals seem to be spread thin, so Kirkpatrick is covering her appointments.
The guy's a prick. He's arrogant, moody, and rude. Treats her like she asked to be here.
She doesn't want or expect sympathy from anyone. But at least don't be an asshole!
It's hard enough not having any independence.
Dana's still in Chicago, but she'll be notified.
Alex returns to her room, still trying to process it all. Her stomach ache is a little worse, so she lies down. She finds her phone and calls Bobby.
"Hey, what's up?" he answers. It sounds like he's at home. She hears his TV on in the background.
"He found me! He knows where I'm staying."
She's still shaking. She held the tears back as long as she could in front of Officer John and Dory, but now she's starting to fall apart.
She realizes how much she and Bobby have evolved when she's no longer concerned that he can hear her crying.
She hears his TV volume cut off. "What happened?"
"He taped a greeting card to the front door of the building. The office clerk assumed it was innocent and slid it under my door. Inside the card were pictures of me taken during the attack."
They talk for a few more minutes. Bobby's sweet, supportive, and just as pissed off about it as she is. Although she's not over it, she's in a better state of mind when they end the call.
x x x
Bobby sits on the couch with the phone still in his hands.
Today is Saturday. Wednesday is supposed to be his last day at the New York office.
The plan is to leave for Chicago next weekend.
Or at least, it was…
He already has two full suitcases packed. He makes a quick phone call, then grabs two overnight bags and packs the rest of what he needs in both.
x x x
The knock at her door stirs her awake. She picks up the phone and glances at the display—2:30 am.
It's been another restless night. Short intervals of sleep are all she can manage.
Probably Dana. She only wants to hear that they have Malik in custody and that this nightmare is over.
She gets out of bed sluggishly. Rather than grab her crutches, she limps toward the door.
The fitful sleep has messed with her coordination. She stumbles on one of her steps and catches her foot on the edge of the couch.
"Ow!" Dammit, I don't need any more injuries!
She reaches the door and opens it.
Oh my god…
"Bobby!"
TBC…