Brotherhood Part 2
Danae
Disclaimer: Alas, they are not mine. I hope Pet Fly
doesn't mind sharing though. No harm or infringement is intended and
nobody's paying me so... unspoken plea here. It's all in the spirit of
fun and a touch of reverence for the folks that do own them.
Thanks to Missy and Nickerbits, my fabulous betareaders. And
to Michelle who inspires me with her amazing writing and understanding of the
human soul. And to everyone else who has written to me with feedback.
I hope you know just how important you are to me.
Season four? What season four? This thing was
started even before S2! Now, you know where we are....
Brotherhood Part
2_________________________________________________________________
Jim grabbed up his phone and propped it on his shoulder
while he continued to concentrate on his driving. "Ellison."
Muffed voices and the sound of splintering wood answered him. He extended
his hearing and caught the wild beating of a familiar heart. Blair.
"Blair?!" he yelled into the phone. No answer, just the sounds
of a struggle. Jim stomped on the gas pedal and spun the truck around in
the direction of the campus.
Minutes later, he screeched to a halt in front of the
Hargrove Building. He raced up the steps and caught the scent of blood as
soon as he entered the building. Panic swept through him and he ran to
Blair's office. The ornate door with its etched glass was open and inside
was a disaster. Blair had not gone quietly and he had not gone
uninjured. Jim spotted a bloody letter opener and clenched his jaw,
grinding his teeth together. He fought the urge to add to the destruction
around him. He picked up the open cell phone from the desk and called it
in.
_________________________________________________________________
"Why didn't he have police protection?! I thought
you fancied yourself some sort of Blessed Protector! Where the hell were
you? Why didn't you do something!?" Naomi Sandburg screamed in his
face and Jim tried very hard to maintain his temper. It was not working.
Why, oh why did Naomi just have show up now?
"I tried but he wouldn't let me!"
"I trusted you to take care of him! He's my only
child, Jim Ellison! He's the one thing in this world that means more to
me than my own life! I love him!"
"So do I!" Jim screamed and then looked around him
at the shocked faces of the officers and forensics people in his partner's
office. "Oh, for crying out loud, get your damn minds out of the
gutter!"
Naomi burst into laughter and Jim looked back at her as
though she had lost her mind. He was about to tell her just that when the
laughter dissolved into tears and she fell against him, burying her face in his
chest. Jim was stunned and looked to Simon for some sort of sign.
His captain had a sad expression on his face and it suddenly struck Jim that
the man had been strangely silent during the altercation.
"Walayla Meadowbrook died an hour ago, Jim."
Jim closed his eyes and finally enfolded her in his arms as
he fought his own tears. "I'll find him, Naomi."
"But how much of him will be left when you do?"
she whispered into his shirt.
Jim could not answer. He was wondering the same thing.
_______________________________________________________________
"The blood on the letter opener is not
Sandburg's. Wrong type. Maybe he got in a good enough shot that the
injured party will seek medical attention. I've sent out a general alert to all
the area hospitals to be on the lookout for injuries that would
fit." Simon tossed a file on the table. "In the
meantime, Jade has gotten us some information on the various fraternities on
Rainier campus. She and I have been going through them looking for
clues. The university has been quite helpful in supplying as much
information as they are allowed to release about the students who head up each
frat. We've found a few that might fit our profile, Gamma Pi Zeta and
Delta Epsilon Phi."
"Just exactly what is our profile, Simon?" Jim
paced around the table looking very much like a caged cat to Jade, though she
would not dare say so aloud.
She spoke up. "We think that we are looking for
upper middle class to upper class white kids, not necessarily racist, per se,
but looking for a sort of common bond. Before true 'hazing' was outlawed,
students joining fraternities and sororities had to undergo all sort of trials
and tribulations to bond them with the others in the brotherhood or
sisterhood. These things ranged from things that were just humiliating to
things that were dangerous and, most of the time in the case of fraternities,
painful. As you well know, lots of kids died."
"And what does this have to do with Blair?"
Jim was impatient and she could not really blame him so she did not snap back.
"We think that since these kids aren't allowed to hurt
each other any more to obtain some bond, they decided to use crime as their
bond. Like the inner city gangs. Commit a crime and gain
acceptance. Really, when you think about it, there isn't that much
difference between the two types of organizations. The main differences
are color and money. When you are the right color and have money, your
gang gets to be legal and prestigious. Wrong color and no money, you get
to be the scourge of civilization."
"Now, that is Sandburg logic if I have ever heard it,
and believe me, I have." Banks sighed and sank down into a chair.
"Thank you for the political commentary, Dr.
Thomas. Can we move on? Do we have search warrants, and if not,
when will they get here?" Jim rubbed his eyes.
"We don't have warrants, Jim. The DA is a little
reluctant to give us warrants without something other than a profile. He
says we have no probable cause."
"Well, we can't just sit here and wait to...!" He
did not finish. Jim grimaced and shook his head. "I'm going to
find my partner."
"Jim, don't cross any lines." Banks warned.
Jade was uncertain if the warning had even registered with the angry man who
stormed out of the office.
_____________________________________________________________
Both frat houses invited Jim inside without even asking to
see a warrant. He was given grand tours and told over and over how
appalled the members were at all the violence on campus. In the Delta
house, Jim heard nothing to indicate that the president of the frat was
anything but sincere and truthful. At the Gamma house, however, his
host's heartbeat and body temperature were off the scale. And that cologne was
one of the scents he had picked up at the Timura crime scene, he was sure of
that, thanks to his guide. However, there was no evidence of Blair
anywhere on the grounds. Jim wanted to grab William Patrick Franklin the
Third and shake him until he told them where Blair was but he knew that he did
not have any evidence, not any that was admissible in court anyway.
"Mr. Franklin, thank you for your time and cooperation. I have to be
going."
He left the house, his mind racing. He got in the
truck and pulled away from the house, but he did not go far. He stopped
the truck around the corner and focused his hearing on the Gamma House, hoping
against hope that they would talk about where they had taken his partner.
He waited.
_______________________________________________________________
“Well, still nothing from the hospitals. Apparently, Sandburg didn’t get in a good
enough shot to send the guy to the emergency room.” Rafe announced as he joined Simon, Jade, and Brown in the
conference room.
"You know what I want to know? How did they get Sandburg out of the
building and off campus without anybody seeing anything?" Simon grumbled
as he lowered himself into a chair at the table. "We interviewed
every student remotely close to the Hargrove Building and they all say they saw
nothing. Are people just that unobservant or what?"
"What," Jade stated solemnly.
"What?" Brown asked.
"I mean, that they aren't that unobservant. Some
of them, maybe, but all of them, probably not. Remember, gentlemen, this
is a closed society. They protect their own. I would almost
guarantee that some of those kids you talked to know exactly what happened to
Blair. I'm sure they were there solely to make sure that nobody else could or
would see or say anything."
"Okay, here's another question. Why
Rainier? Why now? What gave these guys the idea?" Brown asked
the psychologist.
"That's something you'd have to ask them. If and
when you catch them," Jade replied.
"Great." Rafe tossed his small notebook and pencil on the
table. "What now?"
"We see what Jim comes up with." Simon sighed.
____________________________________________________________
//”What are we gonna do, Will?”
“We are going to keep our mouths shut. Jacobson, I thought you said the cops would
never figure this out. What happened
to that?”
“Hey, man, they didn’t figure it out in Texas. Maybe your cops are smarter, man. You do realize, though, that if they find
out it was us, we’re going down for murder.
That Indian girl died, man.”
“Yes, Toby, we do realize that, thank you. That’s why we are going to keep our heads
and—“//
The shrill sound of his cell phone nearly sent Jim into
overload and he lost the thread of conversation coming from the frat
house. “Ellison,” he growled into the
phone.
"Well? What are you hearing?" Simon's voice boomed through the
connection.
Jim winced at his captain's irritated voice. He
sighed. "Mainly, you."
"Oh," he mumbled, "sorry."
Jim sighed again. "It's all right. I'm
sorry. I shouldn't have said that quite that way. They're talking
about it but they aren't talking about where the others have taken Blair.
Evidently, they got the idea from a guy who transferred in from another
school. His chapter of the fraternity
‘adopted’ this initiation in Texas.
They didn’t get caught. Damn
it! I wish I had something I could use to arrest them!" He brought
his fist down hard on the dash in front of him. "If I could just get
one or two of them in the interrogation room, I'd find out where Blair is.
That, I know."
"Well, you know, Jim, maybe you left something back at
the Gamma House. Maybe you should go check."
"Simon, are you suggesting what I think you're
suggesting?"
"Stranger things have happened than a good detective
leaving, oh say, a notepad of some kind somewhere and overhearing some criminal
activity when he returned to retrieve said notepad."
"I didn't have a notepad."
"Jim, are you trying to be stupid? I know that,
and you know that, but they don't know that, and their attorneys won't know
that, and their--"
"Okay, okay. I was just trying to make sure that
I truly have your blessing."
"Jim, go get those little bastards, you hear me?"
"Yes, sir." Jim got out of the truck.
___________________________________________________________
"I'm not saying anything without my lawyer."
Franklin crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back arrogantly in the
chair.
Simon ran his hand over his face and frowned. They had
run up against a brick wall with Franklin and his cohorts. Three young
men had been arrested at the frat house by Ellison and two uniformed officers
and brought in. None of them were talking. Simon had already been
forced to have Jim removed from the interrogation rooms. The detective
prowled the hallway outside the door even as Simon glared at Franklin.
"Fine, Mr. Franklin. Just remember that you were given the
opportunity to talk to me and maybe help yourself out a little and you turned
it down. A girl is dead, Mr. Franklin. A professor, who just
happens to be a consultant with my department, is missing. Blair Sandburg
has a lot of friends in this department."
"And my father has a lot of friends in state
government, *Officer* Banks."
Simon smirked at the boy in response to the implication of
his statement then turned and left the room.
______________________________________________________________
"The feds will be here in the morning," Brown
remarked absently.
"I realize that," Jim snapped. "Do you
think that I need reminding that those idiots are going to waltz in here and
take my investigation from me? Maybe you'd like to remind me that I'm
probably going to find my partner tomorrow morning half beaten to death while
you're at it."
"I didn't mean--"
Jim held up one hand to stop the man. "I know,
I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge right now."
Just then the doors to the bullpen burst open and three men
entered. They came to a stop just inches from Jim's face. "Are
you Ellison?" the one in front asked.
"Yeah, what can I do for you?"
"William Franklin. You arrested my son and I want
an explanation, and I mean now."
Jim's eyes narrowed, and he saw Brown and Rafe stand up and move to stand on
either side of him. He was not sure if the move was to show solidarity or
to hold Jim back from punching Franklin's lights out. "Have a seat,
Mr. Franklin. I'd be happy to explain."
Minutes later, Franklin's demeanor was no longer
confrontational. The man rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily, his
shoulders slumping. "You actually heard this?"
"Yes sir, I did. We suspected one of the
fraternities on campus was involved and were in the process of investigating
each of them. I had already spoken to your son and had left when I
realized that my notepad was missing and returned to the Gamma house to get
it. When I got there, your son and some of the others were discussing the
crimes. The door to the house was open, as I understand it usually is
until they go to bed, and they could be heard quite clearly. I arrested
them. They aren't talking, sir. Things would be better for them if
they told us where to find the others and their latest victim."
"One of the victims died, isn't that right?" The
man sounded so subdued that Jim felt sorry for him.
"Yes sir. A young woman. She had been raped
repeatedly and scalped. She was of Native American descent, thus the
scalping."
"Dear God. What am I going to do, Jack?" he
asked one of the men with him.
"Detective Ellison, I'd like to talk with Will Franklin
now, please."
"Of course." Jim motioned for the lawyer to follow
him and led the man to the interrogation room where Franklin had been placed.
Two hours later, Will Franklin was still not talking.
William Franklin had left, declaring that his lawyers could handle the
situation and that he no longer wanted to deal with his son. Jim saw the
disgust and pain in the elder Franklin's eyes as he wandered more so than walked
down to the elevator and wiped tears from his eyes as he got in the elevator
car. The old man had tried to get his son to tell them what he knew.
However, Will Franklin held fast to his story that he and his frat brothers
were just talking about the crimes and were not involved. The lawyers,
apparently, decided to go with that.
"Either charge my client or let him go," Jack
Ruskin challenged Jim.
Jim smiled coldly and turned to Brown. "Book
him," he told his fellow officer. "Satisfied?" he asked
Ruskin.
"You're making a career ending mistake, Ellison.
You can't really put Will at any of those crime scenes. You only heard
young boys talking about some pretty fascinating crimes and jumped the
gun. The Franklins have some powerful friends."
"Ruskin, you know as well as I do that even the kid's
father is not buying that story. I heard them talking about how they
really couldn’t be tied to any of the victims because they chose them at
random. They were sure that they didn’t
have a thing to worry about as long as they all kept their mouths shut. I
heard them talking about how one of them went too far with Walayla Meadowbrook
and how they would all be facing murder charges if anyone talked. I heard
them laughing and talking about raping and cutting Yoko Timura. I heard this with my own ears. And as
far as placing your client at the scene, forensics is working on that right
now. We have some very good samples, Ruskin. They were smart enough
to wear condoms but not smart enough to remove them without leaving traces
behind on the victim. Not to mention the skin and hair samples under the girls'
fingernails. Waylayla Meadowbrook did not go quietly."
Ruskin swallowed nervously then seemed to get a second
wind. "Ellison, do you think I don't know your interest in
this? You're desperate to find your partner. You'll do anything it
takes to bring somebody down and you chose my client."
A redirect, Jim thought. He was expecting that.
"Are you calling me a liar?"
"I'm calling you a desperate cop."
"I know what I heard. And a jury will hear it
word for word, Ruskin."
"Then I suppose I shall see you in court," Ruskin
sighed.
"I suppose you will indeed." The smile on Jim's
face went from simply cold to sinister as Ruskin grabbed his briefcase and
hurried out of the bullpen. Simon approached him then.
"Anything?" he asked.
"Nothing. The little bastards won't turn over on
their 'brothers.'" Simon's tone voiced his disgust and frustration.
"Damn! If you would just let me in there--"
"Not in this lifetime," Simon said decisively as
he came to join them. "I want to find Sandburg as much as you do but
I'm not going to allow you to terrorize suspects, Jim. And believe me,
it's for your sake, not theirs."
Jim closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "I'm
going out to the university and see if I can find anything."
"Jim, you're tired. You need to get some
sleep," Simon argued.
"Sleep? You're kidding, right, sir? Sleep
while Blair is out there somewhere? I'll see you in the morning."
Jim grabbed his jacket from his chair and walked out.
____________________________________________________________
Kevin Harris grinned happily as he put the finishing touches
on his masterpiece. The living canvas was silent and still, still
breathing, just not so well. They would give time for the paint to dry
and then put their artwork on display. The sun would be up soon and they
had to be extra careful this time. The cops would be out in force.
Maybe they would not go to the campus this time. There was the park not
far from campus. It would be just as effective and probably a lot
safer. There were joggers out, students milling around, but more cover in
certain parts to hide their activities. He would suggest it. After
all, he was a full brother now. They would listen to him.
With a savage kick to the small of the back, Kevin left
Professor Blair Sandburg, broken and bleeding, and went out to get another
beer.
______________________________________________________________
Jim's head spun in the direction of the scream, and he was
off and running with a speed that belied the fact that he had gone without
sleep for twenty-three hours. The few people on the Rainier campus at
that early hour stared at him as he ran toward the sound that only he could
hear. He raced across the commons area of the university and jumped a
hedge before crossing the street to the small park on the other side. He
quickly located the source of the sounds that reached his ears, a woman crying,
two other voices, one calling for someone to get an ambulance, the other trying
to get a response from someone. Jim's focus narrowed and he heard the
labored breathing and the slow, slow heartbeat of that someone---Blair.
He had known really so he was surprised that it still hurt
so much. He rounded a stand of small trees to find three people hovered
over what was barely recognizable as his guide. He slid to a halt and
dropped to his knees next to Blair. His partner was lying on his side and
had been stripped down to his boxers. His bruised and bloody body had
been painted with swastikas and the work "kike" was visible across
his back. And there was blood on the ground from a wound that Jim could
not see. Jim's hand shook as he reached out to move the curtain of
blood-damp curls from Blair's face. "Oh god." he gasped.
Jim lightly ran his hand down Blair's back and over his ribs, trying to assess
his injuries. He found many broken ribs and lots of angry bruises but
determined that his partner's back was not broken. As gently as he could,
he began to shift Blair onto his back. He needed to find the source of
the blood. He swore and ripped a piece of his shirt away as he did.
Blair had been stabbed in the lower right side of his abdomen. He pressed
the cloth to the still bleeding wound with one hand while the other touched his
guide's forehead. He willed Blair to open his eyes but the younger man
remained unconscious.
Jim listened to the too slow beating of his guide's heart
until the rest of the world disappeared. The next thing that he was aware
of were Simon's hands on his shoulders pulling him up from the ground and
paramedics taking his place beside Blair. He shook off the zone and his
captain's hands. "Be careful with him," he ordered.
"He hasn't been conscious so I think there's a head injury. He's
lost a lot of blood, too." After that, all he could do was
watch. Soon, the medics had Blair loaded into the back of the ambulance
and were about to close the doors when Jim grabbed one of them by the
arm. He gave the man a look that was meant to tell him that he was in no
mood to argue and then climbed into the vehicle with his partner.
____________________________________________________________
Simon found Jim sitting in the waiting area of the emergency
room. He sighed and approached the man who looked so angry and yet so sad
at the same time. The jaw was clenched, the hands curled into fists, the
shoulders squared, all signs of Jim Ellison's not inconsiderable temper.
The eyes, though, showed pain and sadness. The windows to the soul, the
eyes were called and Simon was getting a clear view into Jim's soul. It
was a rare glimpse. The man was usually so guarded, the shutters firmly
closed over those windows, so to speak. Except when it came to Blair
Sandburg.
"Jim, how is he? Have you heard anything?"
"I've heard plenty but they haven't told me a damn
thing. I know that they're gonna take him into surgery soon. He's
in a coma, Simon. He lost so much blood and his skull is fractured.
That's all I know. Where's Jade?"
"She's right behind me."
"And Naomi? Did you call Naomi? I was
supposed to call Naomi."
"Don't worry. Rafe is taking care of
her." Simon's cell phone rang then and he flipped it open.
"Banks." He listened to Rafe's frantic voice on the other
end. Simon rubbed his face with his free hand. "I'll tell
him." He hung up and faced Jim's inquisitive stare. "The feds
are on their way down here."
Jim did not acknowledge him, however, as the man seemed to
look past him. Simon turned to see a familiar face coming toward
them. He could not help but lament the fact that the tiny doctor was so
familiar with them all that she did not have to ask who they were there
for. She knew them as well as they knew her. "Jim, I'm taking
him into surgery to repair the damage from the stab wound. It's going to
be touch and go because of his other injuries but we have to do it now.
We're pumping blood into him and he's losing it before we get the next pint
ready. I'm surprised that he hadn't bled to death by the time you found
him. He must have been stabbed as an afterthought just before they left
him for you to find." She noticed someone that she did not know then
as Jade joined them. "Dr. Orenda Milap."
"Jade Thomas," she shook the doctor's hand.
Dr. Milap smiled. "At any rate, I need to get
going. I'll let you know something as soon as I can."
"Thank you, Dr. Milap," Simon answered for them
all.
"It was a new wound," Jim said absently as he sat
down once again. "Payback probably for the shot Blair got in at his
office."
Simon sat down next to him. "He'll pull
through."
"Just how many times have you said those exact words to
me right here in this room, Simon? How many times has Blair been right
where he is now since I've known him? Too many."
"Jim, this has nothing to do with the work Blair does
with you. This has to do with hatred and bigotry, which are as old as
time itself, I think sometimes. Or maybe that's as old as I feel when I'm
faced with it."
"Try to convince Naomi of that, Simon."
"Naomi?" Jade asked.
"Blair's mother," Simon told her.
"She's on her way here."
"Ah, I'll see what I can do."
___________________________________________________________
Jim was not sure if he wanted to laugh or scream. He wanted to tell Jade
that there was nothing she could do. Nothing anybody could do.
Naomi would not be placated. She would blame Jim and she would be
right. Jim had failed. He was supposed to protect his guide.
He should have known. He did know, and still he had done nothing.
Blair wanted to make a stand. Okay, he could understand that. But
he, Jim, should have been standing by him when he did. That was what partners,
friends did. Jim got up and wandered away from them-- Away from Simon who
was trying to explain Naomi to his tiny red-haired girlfriend. Did he not
realize that Naomi defied explanation as much as her son did? Away
from the soft-spoken woman, who was little more than a spectator in this whole
mess, who thought that she would actually convince Naomi Sandburg that Jim was
not at fault. He moved slowly toward the door that Dr. Milap had
disappeared through and focused his hearing beyond them until he heard the
little doctor's voice. He listened to her give instructions for Blair's
removal to surgery, listened to the orders for more whole blood and some
medication that Jim did not recognize, and then listened to her as her voice
softened as she spoke to her patient. "Oh sweetpea, what am I going
to do with you? I see this face too often, Blair Sandburg," she
half-crooned, half-scolded.
"Amen to that," Jim muttered his agreement.
A hand on his shoulder brought him rudely back to himself, Dr. Milap's voice
lost as the noise of the waiting room re-entered his awareness.
"Jim?"
"I'm fine, Simon."
"Just making sure. Besides, the feds are
here."
The next several hours were a blur to Jim. The only
thing that registered in his otherwise hazy mind was the ticking of the clock.
He talked to Special Agents Mathis and Reese. He told them everything
they had. Truth was, they had the case solved already. They
just had to make it stick. Naomi arrived. She screamed at him but
he hardly heard her words. She was not saying anything that he had not
said to himself. Jade had pulled her away into one of the private
consultation rooms to talk with her. Still, he listened to the
clock. Simon hovered over him like a mother bear over a cub. To the
man's credit, though, he did not talk, nor try to get Jim to talk. He
simply hovered. Jim chuckled a little, remembering Blair's
accusation that he himself hovered. Blair was right. It was
annoying. "Simon, I'm okay. I'm not trying to listen to the
surgery. I doubt I could right now if I wanted to."
Simon grimaced in sympathy, Jim supposed. Or perhaps
he had been hoping that his hovering was going unnoticed. Not a chance in
hell, Jim thought sarcastically. "Sorry, Jim. You've just been
so quiet--"
Jim shook his head. "How's Naomi?"
"Jade's got her calmed down some. She knows it's
not really your fault, Jim."
Jim shook his head again. "Not right now,
Simon. I can't talk about that right now."
"Okay. So, how about those Jags?"
Jim found himself laughing before he could remember that he
should not. "Is that the best you can do?"
Simon laughed with him. "Hey, Naomi got
Jade. And I'm not trading off."
Jim sobered. "Simon, about Jade?"
"What about her?"
"She's--"
"What, Jim?" Simon snapped suddenly.
"White? Is that what you were going to say?"
"Actually, no, Simon. I was going to say a little
young."
"Oh, sorry. The young thing I will have to give
you. But she is older than Blair, so..." he trailed off.
"Guess I'm a little touchy, huh?"
"Who could blame you with what we've been dealing
with?" Jim shrugged.
"You don't know the half of it, Jim. You'd think
in this day and age people would be over the bi-racial couple
issue." Simon shook his head. "Her parents are
livid. They're talking about disowning her. She's tough,
though. She's not backing down from them. And then there's the
stares out on the street, in restaurants, movie theaters, wherever we go.
She tells me to ignore it. I try."
"You said Daryl likes her?"
"Yeah, he does. Doesn't phase him."
"That's a testament to how you raised him, Simon."
"Then explain Joan."
"What?"
"Joan. She's all up in arms. Says that if I
marry Jade, she'll take me to court to cut my visitation rights. She
doesn't want a white woman raising her child, she says. Damn, Jim, I was
married to the woman and never knew she carried around that kind of bigotry in
her heart."
"I'm sorry, Simon. At least Daryl got your
values. I know it's gotta be hard but that's gotta count for something,
right?"
The man nodded. "Thanks, Jim. Here I am
supposed to be watching out for you and keeping your chin up and you're
counseling me to keep mine up."
Anything Jim might have said to that comment was forgotten
when Orenda Milap appeared through the waiting room doors. Jim was on his
feet and across the floor with no clear recollection of the trip.
"How is he?" Simon moved up behind him.
"Still in a coma. He made it through surgery but
it was touch and go. We had to repair quite a bit of torn tissue but the
knife missed his intestines. That was a blessing. There was also a great deal of internal
bleeding from the beating. We had to
locate the sources of the bleeding and repair that as well. He is on a ventilator because he is not
breathing on his own at the moment. As for the skull fracture, we will
need to watch him very closely for complications. Now, we just
wait."
"Blair has a living will," a voice announced from
behind them.
"And you are?" Dr. Milap asked.
"Blair's mother, Naomi Sandburg."
"I see. Well, let's give Blair some time to
recover from surgery before we pull that thing out and start waving it
around."
Jim nearly smiled. Orenda Milap was a character.
She minced no words, and in her not-so-subtle but not unkind way shut Naomi up
quite effectively. Besides, he did not want to have to tell Naomi right
now that Blair had changed that living will long ago giving Jim, not Naomi,
final say in Blair's care. That information would not go over very well
at the moment. "When can we see him?"
"Soon, Jim. They're getting him set up in ICU
right now. When he's ready, I'll come and tell you. One visitor at
a time though." She met Jim's eyes, her understanding of how hard
this was going to be on him shining in her compassionate brown eyes. He
was accustomed to having Blair to himself. This time, he would have to
share his guide with Naomi. It was only fair. Yet, that knowledge
would not make it any easier to do.
________________________________________________________
Mark Coley shifted his weight in the chair yet again.
The detectives had listened to what he had to say. The black guy was nice
enough but the white guy in the suit had glared at him as though he was
something on the bottom of his shoe. They wanted to know why he had not
come in earlier. He was scared, pure and simple. He still
was. Kevin had all but said that he would do to Mark what he and his frat
buddies had done to Yoko, that black guy, Waylayla Meadowbrook---and
Mr. Sandburg. He was there when they loaded Mr. Sandburg into the
ambulance. He had seen what had been done to him. He had tried to
make himself believe that Kevin was just blowing smoke. The two had been
friends for years. Surely, Kevin would not hurt him. But Kevin was
not the same guy Mark had met in junior high. The frat had made Kevin
mean. Or maybe Kevin had always been mean and the frat had encouraged
that meanness, gave it an outlet. Mark did not know. He just knew
that he had an obligation to do the right thing, friends or not. He was
ashamed of himself for waiting. Poor Mr. Sandburg was suffering for
Mark's cowardice. He just hoped the man would forgive him. If he
lived.
The two detectives returned then with two more men in
tow. The one that Mark knew as Detective Brown introduced him.
"You're feds?" Mark's voice squeaked to his embarrassment.
"Hate crime is federal jurisdiction, son." Agent
Mathis told him matter-of-factly. "Now, why don't you tell us your
story again."
God, Kevin, what have you done? He thought even as he began
to tell the man about his best friend's involvement in rape, murder, and
assault.
___________________________________________________________
It was almost anti-climactic. The lab results from the
first attack pointed to Franklin and another boy, Vance Spenser. Spenser
folded. The second set of results from the Meadowbrook attack implicated
two more, one of who was Jacobson, the “idea man” from Texas. There was a
third assailant they did not have a match for, but if Mark Coley and Vance
Spenser were telling the truth, that third assailant was Kevin Harris.
Harris fingered Blair. Over a damn test grade, Jim fumed. Harris did most of the damage. Seemed
he was not very happy about having to pay to have his side stitched up by an
off-duty paramedic who required a little extra to insure his silence. Jim silently applauded his partner for that
one. But now, Jim wanted Harris.
However, Harris was proving difficult to find. Somebody must have tipped
him off.
The university had shut down the fraternity house and a full
investigation was underway to determine if the whole of the fraternity was
involved or aware of the crimes. If
that was proven to be the case, the fraternity would be shut down permanently
and the young men expelled, according to the Chancellor. Spenser claimed that only the fraternity’s
officers and the Rush committee had any knowledge of the attacks. However, Jim remembered Jade’s lecture about
brotherhood as viewed by fraternities and could not bring himself to believe
that the rest of the “brothers” did not know what these few were doing.
The thing that bothered Jim the most about Spenser’s
statement, though, was that Spenser claimed that neither he nor the others
involved were racists. Nor did any of
them have anything against their victims.
With the sole exception of Blair, the victims were chosen specifically
because they had no ties to the fraternity or their attackers. They chose to make the attacks look like
hate crimes to throw off suspicion.
They expected Baker and his group to be the primes suspects. All in all, they were doing it for fun. And for brotherhood. Jim shook his head and decided that he
needed to think about something else.
Like maybe how Mathis and Reese had been very understanding
about Jim wanting to stay involved in the case. Of course, they could not
really complain too much, seeing as how Major Crimes had already solved their
case for them before they had even arrived. In fact, they had been so reasonable that Jim was worried that he
would have to reevaluate his opinion of feds.
Then again, maybe not, he smiled to himself. They were simply the exception to the stupid annoying fed
rule. That was the only explanation.
Jim reined in his wandering mind and focused on the scene
before him. He sat beside Blair's bed,
just as he had been every available moment for the past two days, one hand
absently rubbing his guide's arm. "You need to wake up now, Chief.
You gotta start breathing on your own. Naomi is harping on that stupid
living will. Okay, so that's not fair. Your mother is very
upset. She's having visions of you--- well, like this--- for years or
something and she doesn't want you to suffer like that. I keep telling
her that she's not going to have to worry about that because you *are* going to
wake up and be fine just any time now. And just for the record, if you
don't manage to do that, I'm gonna be in hot water deep, buddy, because I haven't
told her that your living will has changed and that she can't make your
decisions for you anymore. And I know you didn't tell her. Oh
no! Why would you make my life simpler, right? I knew the instant
she mentioned it that you hadn't told her. As angry as she is with me
already, she would never have mentioned anything that might give me any rights
to you at all. And she hasn't been trying to persuade me, see?
She's been at Orenda about it. So I knew she didn't know. She's not
speaking to me anyway. In spite of all Jade's efforts, she blames
me. Hell, Chief, I blame me. I should have protected you whether
you wanted me to or not. It's just that I do understand about taking a
stand, Blair. And what with you just accusing me of hovering, well, I
didn't want to prove you right, I guess."
Jim chuckled to himself ruefully. "Speaking of
hovering, have you ever noticed how badly Simon hovers? I can't seem to shake
the man, Chief. You gotta wake up because Simon is driving me
insane." A tap on the window got Jim's attention. He turned to
see Naomi standing there impatiently. He nodded at her. "Well,
Chief, your mom's back from lunch and I've got to get back to work. We
still haven't found Harris. But don't you worry, I will find him, Blair.
He will go down. You hang in there, buddy and I'll see you later."
Jim got no response, not that he was expecting one. He frowned slightly
anyway and walked out of the room. "Thanks, Naomi. I'll be
back later."
"Fine." She walked into the room and closed
the door in Jim's face. Jim tried not to be hurt, but he was. He
did not have time to dwell on that, however. He had to catch the bastard
who had hurt Blair.
___________________________________________________________
"Ellison." Jim barked into his cellphone.
"Let's get one thing very clear, cop. I'm only
doing this so that you pigs will lay off my
organization."
"Excuse me? Who is this?"
"Baker. Remember, you hauled me in about the
incidents at Rainier?"
"Derrick Baker?"
"Yeah. Just listen up. I got a call today
from a guy that said he was sympathetic to our cause. He said that you
guys were after him for the attacks at Rainier and he wanted our help to get
out of Cascade. I said I'd have to get back to him, that arrangements
would take time, but he said he'd call me. Now, I don't give a damn about
your Jew partner or the others but my organization doesn't need the heat from
this. So, I'm offering him to you. You want him?"
"Damn straight, I want him."
"He's yours, Ellison. When he calls me, I'll call
you. After that, I don't want to turn around and see Mr. GQ and his
*Negro* partner following me or my people any more. We clear?"
"You stay clean and we'll stay away, Baker.
That's all I'm saying."
"Fine. Like I said, this guy's methods and timing
are all wrong. The war's coming. We just have to sit back and
wait. Will you be ready, Ellison?"
"Don't you worry about me, Baker."
Baker laughed. "The day will come when I'll have
to worry about you. You will be a formidable adversary. In the
meantime, he calls, I call, you get your man." A click ended the
connection.
The scary thing was that Baker actually believed his own
rhetoric. Even scarier was that he seemed so certain that Jim had to
wonder if indeed he would face Baker some day in a war fueled by racial
hatred. Jim shook himself to disperse the dire visions in his head and
called Simon with the news.
_______________________________________________________________
Jade listened to Simon's end of the phone conversation with
interest. Jim Ellison was on the other end, and from Simon's responses,
the news was good. "What?" she asked before he even got the
cell phone closed.
"Derrick Baker, that kid from the Neo-Nazi group at Rainier just
called. Harris called him and asked for help. Baker apparently is
more concerned about getting us off his back that helping out Harris.
When Harris calls back, Baker is going to give him to us." A satisfied
smile graced her lover's face for the first time in days as he picked up his
fork and began eating again.
"Will wonders never cease!" She returned the smile. "The
Chancellor called me back this morning, too. She wants to schedule those
sensitivity seminars for the students as soon as possible."
"Good! Who knows, you may even reach a few
Baker's cronies."
"Now, Simon, you know how unlikely that is."
"Yes, but I also know just how persuasive you can
be." He gave her a sly look.
She giggled and batted her eyelashes at him.
"Why, Simon, are you insinuating that I seduced you?"
"Baby, all you had to do was walk into the room and I
was lost." He reached for her hand and she let him catch it.
She leaned forward to meet him halfway across the table for a quick kiss.
She heard the disgusted noise from the next table and hoped against hope that
Simon had not. But he did. As she sat back, she saw his face.
"Simon--." Too late.
"Why don't you mind your own business?"
"A Sister wasn't good enough for you?"
Simon stared at the black woman who challenged him.
The woman rose and left the table then. He watched her go.
"Jade, I'm sorry," he said when she was gone.
"Simon, her ignorance is not your fault. Of
course, you could have just ignored her."
"I know, I know. I should have." He
shook his head. "It's just..."
"I know." Jade touched his cheek.
"Let's finish lunch and get out of here. You have a criminal to
catch, and I have seminars to plan and hopefully, when we are both done, the world
will be a little better."
"You are incredible."
"I know," she teased at his so serious tone.
He smiled again, finally. "That's better. Eat! You need
to keep up your strength if you're going to be the Great And Powerful
Supercaptain I know you are." She stabbed a piece of lettuce from
her salad with a fork and popped it in her mouth.
"Supercaptain," he muttered as he picked up his
own fork. "Yeah, that's me all over."
___________________________________________________________
Derrick Baker did not call back. Jim had practically
sat on the phone for the rest of the day, and though it did ring, it was never
Baker. All other leads they had on Harris had turned up exactly nothing
so they were now depending on the skinhead leader. That was not a
comfortable feeling. Jim got into the truck and placed the cell phone on
the seat beside before he put the key into the ignition. He took a deep
breath. It was time to go back to the hospital. Time to see Blair,
still, battered, in a coma. Time to see the accusations in Naomi's
eyes. Jim felt so old, so tired. Times like these he wanted to turn
in his badge, pack up the truck, and disappear into the mountains. Of
course, he would have to convince Blair to go. It was possible. He
smiled to himself. All he had to do was point out how cool it would be
studying a Sentinel in the "wild" and Blair would be packing.
Then again, he would also be thinking up a myriad of tests for Jim whilst he
was at it. That would not matter though. At least Blair would be
safe. "Well, you've sat here long enough," he scolded as he
started the truck.
Before he realized it, he was pulling up outside the
hospital. He squared his shoulders and prepared himself to deal with
Naomi. He used the time in the elevator to try once again to come up with
a tactful strategy to inform Blair's mother of the changes in Blair's living
will. It was only a matter of time before it would be too late for
tact. He needed to tell the woman calmly, quietly, without aggression, at
just the right moment, in just the right way before he lost his temper with her
and blurted it out in usual Ellison fashion. Jim knew well, however,
about the best laid plans of mice and men and the road to hell. Somehow,
he just knew, no matter how or when he said it, the resulting battle would not
be pretty.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he arrived at Blair's room
and Naomi was not there. He entered the room quietly, as though he was
trying not to wake up the young man in the bed. *If only it was possible
to make enough noise to wake him, I'd find a way,* he thought as he pulled the
plastic chair closer to the bed and sat down. Automatically, one hand
reached out to touch Blair's arm. "Hey there, Chief. Ready to
wake up yet?" When he got no response, he went on, "Okay.
I'll give you a little longer. Not much though. You'll never guess
who's helping us get to Harris. Derrick Baker. Yep, Chief, the
Neo-Nazi. Who'da thought, huh? Simon and Jade will be by
later. Joel, too. Rafe and Brown are staking out Harris's dorm
though. They told me to tell you to get well. Speaking of Jade,
she's going to do those sensitivity seminars that you were talking about at the
university. The dean must have liked your idea, and he called Simon to
ask him if he knew anybody. Naturally, Simon suggested Jade. Hope
she has better luck there than with Naomi. I think she gave up on
Naomi." He was rambling. "Come on, Blair, open your eyes,
Buddy." He sat back in the chair and leaned his head back. He
rolled it on his shoulders to try to ward off the headache that was threatening
just behind his eyes. He was so focused that he did not hear her
approach.
"Jim, we need to talk."
He jumped a little and turned to face the angry mother of
his best friend. He did not want to do this. This was it,
though, ready or not. "Good evening, Naomi. I thought you
weren't speaking to me."
She glared at him. "This is not the time or place
for your sarcasm. We have to talk about Blair."
"There's really nothing to talk about. Orenda
will let us know if and when there's no hope. Until then, I have to
believe that he's going to be fine."
"Yes, well, I'm not sure that Dr. Milap will let us
know that. She has seemed very reluctant to discuss Blair's living will
with me. I would like Blair to have another doctor, first of
all. Secondly, I would like that doctor to sit down with me and
discuss Blair's living will, instead of telling me that I have to wait.
Blair did not want machines to keep him alive. That thing in his throat
is exactly what he did not want. Dr. Milap does not have the right to
force my son to exist if there is no hope of recovery."
Jim tried to hold his tongue. He examined his hands,
counted the holes in the ceiling tile above his head, swallowed every barb that
fought for release.
"Are you listening to me?"
"I heard you, Naomi."
"Good. I just thought that if we could put up a
united front to the hospital, we could get Blair reassigned without any
difficulty. I don't have the strength to fight the hospital and you right
now."
"Well, that's too bad." Jim wanted to kick
himself. He had not meant to say that aloud.
"Excuse me?"
He sighed and stood up to face her. "Look,
Naomi. Orenda is Blair's doctor. She's a good doctor. She's
taken care of him before and I trust her. Just so you know, she has the
same opinions as you do about allowing patients to just exist when there is no
hope. 'Quantity of life is not the same as quality of life,' she
says. So if she says it's too soon to talk about letting him go, then
it's too soon. Besides, Naomi, look at that monitor over
there." Jim pointed. "That's brain activity, Naomi.
That means he's still in there. Until that thing says differently,
Blair's alive and I'm not letting him go. Do you understand?"
"You're going to fight me."
"Tooth and nail," Jim confirmed solemnly.
"You don't have the right."
And here was the kicker. "Yes, I do."
"Excuse me?"
"Blair's living will, Naomi. It's been
changed."
"What are you talking about?" Her tone was
harsh and cutting.
"We never knew if we would be able to find you,
Naomi. Blair felt that someone closer would be..." *Better would not
be a good term to use here, Jim.* The voice in his head sounded
suspiciously like Blair. "He felt that I would be--"
"You? He chose you to speak for him?"
The temperature in the room seemed to plummet as she spoke. "I don't
believe it."
"It's true. We went to my lawyer, had new papers
drawn up for both of us. I speak for him; he speaks for me. Simon
speaks for us if both of us go down. I'm sorry, Naomi. We just felt
that... Naomi, he's family to me. Please try to understand. You're
his mother but you're not always here. I am."
She whirled around and was gone in an instant. He ran
after her. "Naomi, don't go."
She stopped and threw her hand back toward him to warn him
off. "I can't talk to you right now."
"Naomi, I'm sorry."
She walked away.
_________________________________________________________________________