Brotherhood
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
_____________
For once, it was not raining and Blair Sandburg reveled in
the sunshine as he tracked across the Rainier University campus to the Student
Union. The new Anthropology 101 textbooks had come in and the bookstore
was holding one for him. Of course, it would not be a teacher's
edition. Those went to the folks with those three little letters that
Blair was still searching for after their names. Then again, Blair did
not need a teacher's edition. He could teach the 101 class in his sleep,
while typing Jim's paperwork, and with one hand tied behind his back.
*Well, maybe not the hand tied thing.* Blair had to have his hands to
talk. If he could not move his hands, then how would he get his point
across? And if one was busy typing, he would need the other. Blair
smiled at the strange thoughts racing through his head and at the sunbeams
warming him. It was a good day, he decided. He had two classes to
teach, one to attend, a partner with a thankfully light caseload waiting for
him at the station, and a dinner date with a very pretty TA from the History
department that night. Yes, a very good day indeed.
Maybe that was why what he discovered in the hedges outside
the Student Union hit him so hard.
________________________________________________________
Jim Ellison pushed aside the by-standers and not a few other
cops to get to his partner. He found the younger man sitting on the steps
of the Student Union. Jim registered the blood covering his guide and
then dismissed it. It was someone else's. He moved on to observe
the tremors that shook Blair's body with incredible force.
"Blair?"
Deep blue eyes were raised to meet his and Jim could see the
pain and the anger in them. "Did you see? Did you see what
some monster did to that girl?" Blair pointed in the direction where the
paramedics frantically worked to save a young girl's life.
"I'm on my way over there now, Chief. Are you
going to be all right?"
"Yeah."
"Has anyone taken your statement?"
"No, I couldn't-- I, Jim, I just--" Jim laid a
hand on his partner's shoulder.
"I understand. Wait for me here, okay? I'll
get your statement after I talk to the other officers and examine the
scene."
"I should go with you to do that. You may need
me."
"No, just stay here for right now. I won't do
anything too strenuous. You can come back with me later if we need
to. At the moment, Chief, you are in no shape for this. Okay?"
Blair simply nodded and wrapped his arms around his body
once again. Jim squeezed the shoulder that his hand rested on once before
turning to the crime scene. The sentinel part of his soul appeased that
his guide was safe, the cop emerged to take precedence. He had a brutal
assault to investigate. He quickly located Brown near the site where the
paramedics were lifting the girl's bloody body onto a gurney. He made his
way there. What he saw brought instant understanding of Blair's
anger. The victim was a tiny Oriental girl, no more than eighteen or
nineteen years old. She was still alive but just barely.
Thankfully, she was unconscious. Her arms and legs were covered in cuts
of varying depth, and Jim caught sight of the word
"Chink" carved into her abdomen as the paramedic raised the
bandage to check the wound once more before transport. Jim's senses told
him that she had been raped as well. His stomach flipped, and he
swallowed hard against the bile that rose into his throat. Jim turned to
Brown.
"Was she found out here in the open?"
"No, Sandburg found her in the hedges, over here.
He carried her out here, we think, so that he could try to save her. I
tried to ask him some questions but he wasn't talking." Brown led
the way over to a spot where the hedge was not quite so perfect anymore.
"He spoke to me. I'm going to get his statement
when we get through here." Jim carefully moved the branches of the
thick bushes aside and stepped through. The first thing that registered
in his senses was blood. It was a wonder that she was not dead from blood
loss. Underneath the blood, he could smell her perfume, semen, and a
variety of men's colognes. There was more than one assailant. He
filed that for future use. Blair could help him isolate each fragrance
when he was recovered from the shock. With that thought, Jim glanced at
the young man. Blair was rocking slightly, his arms still tight against
his body. The heart rate was better but still faster than
normal. He pulled his attention back to the matter at hand.
He did a visual scan of the area. There were tattered bits of the young
woman's clothing which Jim and Brown gathered carefully and placed into
evidence bags. The girl's purse lay under a particularly full, fat
shrub. It, too, was collected and carefully sealed as evidence.
Finally, Jim plucked an earring from the blood soaked ground and dropped it
into a bag that Brown was holding. He removed the rubber gloves from his
hands, careful to turn them inside out as he did, then slapped Brown on the
shoulder. He climbed out of the hedge and threw the gloves into an
evidence bag and handed it off to one of the forensics techs. Taking a deep
breath, he headed to the spot where his partner sat. He sat down beside
Blair and clasped a hand on a shaking knee.
"Can you talk to me, Chief?"
"Yeah. I'm okay, Jim. Just a little shook
up."
"I can certainly understand that. Tell me what
happened."
"I was walking to the Student Union to go to the
bookstore. I was passing the hedges and I saw a shoe under one of the
bushes. I almost kept walking, but then I saw red on the shoe and I
realized that it was blood. I looked through the hedge and saw her,
man. It was horrible. She was all cut up, and there was so much
blood. I yelled for someone to call an ambulance and the police.
There were some students standing around, and I suppose one of them did call.
I went in there where she was and checked for a pulse. She was alive,
Jim, and she was still bleeding. I didn't have enough room back there so
I picked her up and brought her out where I could see her injuries and try to
stop the bleeding. Maybe I shouldn't have done that but I couldn't help
her back there, Jim. I had to do it."
"It's okay, buddy. Go on."
"I used my shirt to try to stop the bleeding and waited
for someone to come. God, Jim! Why would somebody do that to someone
else? She was tortured, and I think she was raped, Jim. This guy is
sick, Jim."
"It's not just one person, Chief. I picked up
several different men's colognes over there."
"Ah, man!" Blair buried his head in his
hands and Jim moved his own hand from Blair's knee to his guide's
neck.
"We'll find them, Chief."
Blair nodded without raising his head.
Jim sighed.
___________________________________________________________
Several hours later, Jim heard a familiar heartbeat and,
without even raising his eyes, closed the file on his desk. Blair plopped
down beside him seconds later, his backpack hitting the floor beside Jim's
feet. "So, what's on the agenda?"
"You out of class?" Jim inquired, trying to
sound nonchalant.
"Yeah. Just had the two today."
Jim bit his lip. He hated to do this. "I
need to go see Yoko Timura. The hospital called just a few minutes ago to
let us know she was awake."
Blair's smile faltered and his complexion lost all
color. "I see."
"If you don't want to go, Chief, I understand.
You can work on paperwork."
Blair touched the file on Jim's desk and Jim snatched it
away quickly. Blair raised his hand and ran it through his hair.
"Top secret?" He pointed at the file.
Jim grimaced. "You just don't want to see
it."
Blair nodded, a frown on his face. "Gotcha.
No, Jim, I'll go with you. Just let me go to men's room and I'll be
ready."
Jim let his partner get out of the room before he tossed the
offending folder back on the desk and swore under his breath.
"What's up, Jim?"
his captain, Simon Banks, asked as he approached.
"Sandburg's not handling the Timura case very
well."
Simon nodded in sympathy. "I can understand
that. Poor kid."
"Yeah."
"He's tough, though. He'll be all
right." Simon slapped him on the shoulder and sauntered away.
"As soon as he's done throwing up his lunch," Jim
whispered to himself.
_________________________________________________
Blair rinsed his mouth and stared at his pale reflection in
the mirror. "Get a damn grip, will you?" he scolded.
"She's alive. Just keep that in mind. She's still alive.
She could have died but she didn't. Now get your ass out there and help Jim
catch these monsters." He swallowed hard and pushed himself away
from the sink. He shook himself and drew his shoulders up. Nodding
at himself once for reinforcement and plastering a smile on his face, he left
the men's room.
Jim was waiting for him in the hall. "Ready,
Chief?"
"Yeah. Let's go."
Jim grasped his shoulder briefly then turned to the
elevator. Silence fell between them and reigned supreme until they got
into the truck. Blair had used the time to mull over the few facts they
had in the case. It occurred to him just as he settled in the truck and
snapped on his seatbelt that Yoko Timura was a Japanese name. He shook
his head.
"What is it, Chief?"
"Just proof positive how stupid bigots really
are."
"What do you mean?"
"Yoko Timura is Japanese."
"Yeah?"
"Jim, they carved 'Chink' on her. She's not
Chinese. She's Japanese."
"Well, I'll be damned. You're right. I
hadn't thought that. So we know our assailants are as stupid as they are
brutal. Good, they might be easier to catch. I just hope this is an
isolated incident. That maybe she pissed somebody off or something.
I really don't want to even think about what could happen if some crazed hate
group is on the rampage in Cascade."
"I'm going to talk to the Dean about sponsoring some
cultural sensitivity seminars. They've done that kind of thing before and
it can't hurt."
"Sounds good to me," Jim commented as he backed
the truck out of the parking space.
The rest of the conversation on the trip to the hospital was
on much more pleasant matters. Blair realized that Jim was doing his best
to keep Blair's mind occupied and it made him feel warm. Jim was in full
Big Brother mode again. Finally, after Jim brought up the possibility of
getting tickets to the next Jags game for them for the third time, Blair
reached out and touched his shoulder. "Jim, really, I'm okay.
Chill out, man."
Jim made a face at him. "I'll believe that when
you manage to talk about this case and keep your lunch down."
Blair rolled his eyes. "I can't believe that you
heard me. That you *listened*!"
"Blair, I know you. I didn't have to
listen," Jim said softly.
Blair closed his eyes. "Guess not.
Especially since I just told on myself, huh?"
Jim chuckled. "Not too bright, Darwin.
You're slipping. What happened to obfuscation?"
"Been hanging around you too long and I'm losing my
technique," Blair quipped.
______________________________________________________
Yoko Timura did not get a look at her attackers. They
all wore masks. There were five of them, though. Blair had held her
hand while she told Jim what she remembered about the attack. Jim had
listened and asked questions, having to forcibly unclench his jaw to get out
the words. As bad as dealing with Yoko Timura's trauma and tears was,
worse than that by far was listening to his partner's erratic heartbeat and
watching him fight for control of his own emotions. Jim had wrapped up as
quickly as possible and thanked the young woman. He had promised her to
do all he could to find her attackers. Blair had nearly flown out of the
room.
They were in the truck before either of them spoke
again. "I'm really sorry about that, Jim."
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Chief. How
about a late lunch?"
"I ate earlier, Jim."
"Yeah, and the toilet in the men's room got most of
that, didn't it?"
Blair frowned at him. "What are you, my
mother?"
"No, your Blessed Protector. Or did you forget
that?"
The frown disappeared, replaced by a sardonic smirk.
"If I had known that you would hold on to that comment like you have and
use it to hover over me, I would never have said that."
"Too late. Besides, I haven't eaten and I'm
hungry." Jim started the truck. "And I don't hover."
"Right. And my name's Dr. McKay."
"McCoy."
"No, no, it's the Gaelic pronunciation, remember?"
Blair had a true smile on his face finally.
"Oh yeah." Jim cuffed him on the head gently and
then backed out of the parking space. "You're still eating
something."
Blair shook his head and rolled his eyes but he did not
disagree. That was enough.
Or so Jim thought. When they sat down to eat at the
China Express, Blair picked at the food on his plate. Jim's sentinel
sight registered that very little if any of it made it to his mouth. He
was about to comment on that fact when his cell phone rang. Frowning, he took
the offending object from his pocket and answered it.
"Ellison."
He listened to Simon's voice on the other end while
examining Blair's inquiring eyes. "Yes, sir. On the way,"
he finally said and hung up.
"What's up?" Blair asked the question that Jim did
not want to answer.
"There's been another incident at the University."
Blair paled and a shudder ran through his body. The
fork poised in his hand dropped to the still full plate. "How
bad?"
"Pretty bad from what Simon was told. Are you
okay, Chief? Maybe you should sit this one out, huh?"
The young man across from him took a deep breath and
straightened his back, squaring his shoulders. "I'll be fine, Jim."
Jim started to argue the point but decided that it would
probably be useless and time consuming. He nodded and threw his napkin in
his plate.
_______________________________________________________
Rafe approached them as they got out of the truck near the English
building. "Hi, guys."
Blair waved his hello as Jim spoke. "What have we
got?"
"Victim is a male this time. His name is Hassan
Jambar. He's an African exchange student."
Blair could not control the gasp that escaped him.
"You know him, Chief?"
"Yeah," he answered, "he's a nice guy.
He's an artist."
"He may not be after this," Rafe said cryptically.
"What do you mean?" Jim asked.
"His hands have been crushed."
"Ah, damn." Blair doubled over, placing his hands
on his knees. He felt Jim's touch on his back. "I'm
okay," he whispered.
"That's not all. There's a rope burn around his
neck and he has a--"
Blair stood and gaped at the young detective.
"A what?" Jim asked.
"A racial epithet written in permanent marker, we
think, on his forehead."
Fury filled Blair's vision with a red haze and he clenched
his fists.
"Chief, are you all right?" Jim squeezed his
shoulder. "You can wait for me in the truck if you'd rather."
"I'm fine. Is he conscious?" Blair inquired.
"Yeah."
"Then I'm going with you to talk to him. He knows
me. It may help him to have a familiar face, you know?"
"Yeah, I know. Come on."
Blair let Jim take the lead as the two of them made their
way over to the ambulance where Hassan Jambar lay on a stretcher. Though
Jim stepped into the ambulance ahead of him, Blair spoke to the young man
first. "Hassan, it's Blair." He laid a gentle hand on his
student's arm as he moved into Hassan's line of sight.
The young man opened his eyes and gave Blair a small,
trembling smile. "Hello, sir," came a softly accented reply.
"Hassan, this is my partner, Jim Ellison. He's a
police officer. He needs to ask you some questions, okay?"
Hassan nodded and Blair stepped back to allow Jim to move
closer. Blair did not hear most of Jim's questions. His eyes
focused on the ruined hands and the mark of the rope on his student's neck and
lastly on the ugly, hateful word scrawled across the forehead. Jim's hand
on his arm snapped him out of the mini-zone he had entered while tracing the
letters and branding them into his memory. Handwriting was as unique as
fingerprints. He wanted to remember the shape, curve, and point of each of
those letters. Just in case he saw it again. Jim got out of the
ambulance and Blair paused one moment more to give Hassan what he hoped was a
reassuring smile. Impulsively, he reached out and placed the palm of his
hand on the young man's forehead, covering at least that bit of the
cruelty inflicted. Hassan sighed heavily.
"Thank you, Mr. Sandburg," he whispered.
"If you need anything, call. Okay?"
"Yes." He smiled wearily.
Blair removed his hand and stepped out of the
ambulance. The paramedics climbed in and pulled the door shut after
them. Moments later, the vehicle pulled away, leaving Blair watching it
go with a very heavy heart. When it disappeared around a corner, he
turned to Jim. "Um, did he see anything?"
"No. Masks, same as the Timura girl."
Jim looked at him with a puzzled expression. "What'd you do,
Chief? Zone out on me? You were there."
"I kinda wasn't listening." Blair swallowed
hard and stared at his feet.
"I know. I understand." Jim clasped a big
hand on his shoulder and led him back to the spot where Hassan Jambar had been
dumped like so much garbage. They had witnesses to question and a crime
scene to go over.
_________________________________________________
Simon tossed his glasses on his desk and rubbed his tired
eyes. "So nobody saw anything? He was snatched up outside his
dorm this morning, in broad daylight, and nobody noticed? Taken to an
unknown location, beaten, nearly hung and nobody heard or saw? And then
dumped, again, in broad daylight, out of a moving car, onto the lawn in front
of the English department of Rainier University and nobody even saw the
car?"
"That's what we were told, sir," Jim answered as
he sat on the table in Simon's office. He was absently flipping pages in
the Jambar file, while keeping one ear trained on his captain's voice and one
on the heartbeat of the slumped figure of his guide at his desk.
"Witnesses said that they saw nothing out of the ordinary until Hassan
Jambar stumbled up the steps of the English building and collapsed in front of
the door. There are a lot of hedges there, Simon and the truth of it is,
those kids saw plenty of cars go by but their view was blocked. They saw
the car but have no idea which car it was that Jambar was thrown from and they
can't remember them all."
"Damn. How's Sandburg handling this? This
kid was one of his students, right?"
"Yeah. He's pissed off and depressed as hell at
the same time."
Simon shook his head sadly.
"He'll be okay, Simon."
"Yeah, I know. In the meantime, I know a local
psychologist that has done some work on hate groups. I think I'll call
her in and see what she can tell us."
"Who's this?"
"Dr. Jadyn Thomas. I met her through Daryl,
actually. She was invited to speak at his school last year. She was
good. Even impressed Daryl, and you and I both know how hard that
is."
Jim chuckled, remembering Simon's headstrong son's last
visit to the station and the argument that ensued and spilled forth from
Simon's office. "Yes, sir, I do. Is he still talking about
going to back packing through Europe after graduation?" Not an idea
Simon had liked at all, Jim thought, while trying not to smirk.
"It's not funny, Ellison and yes, he is. Your
partner certainly didn't help matters much, you know?"
Jim shrugged. "What can I do? My partner is
as stubborn as your son." Jim grinned at him and headed for the door.
"I know that's right," Simon muttered.
He almost laughed but just then Blair looked up and
suddenly, Jim did not feel like laughing any more. Blair did not look
like Blair should look. It was a stranger's eyes that met Jim's, for
Blair's eyes had never looked so empty. Jim felt his heart flip in his
chest. He made his way to his desk. "Why don't you call it a
day, Chief? You look exhausted."
"It's only 3:45, Jim. If you don't mind, I just
thought I'd stay here until about 4:30 and work on some paperwork then head
over to the University library for a little while. You could probably use
some help with the paperwork, right?"
"Actually, I don't really have any paperwork to do,
Chief. See, I got this great partner that gets it all done before I even
get a chance to let it pile up." Jim smiled at him. "Besides,
don't you have a date tonight? Why don't we both head home a few minutes
early and you can get all spiffied up for what's-her-name while I run out for a
Wonderburger."
"*Spiffied*, Jim? What kind of word is
spiffied? Her name is Savannah and I postponed the date. I just
don't feel like going out."
Jim sighed. "Blair, I know this case sucks but
you can't let it get to you like this."
"I can't check this at the door, Jim! I just
can't! You're a white Anglo-Saxon male, Jim. You don't know how it
feels."
Realization slapped Jim in the face and he blinked.
"Damn."
"Yeah, that and a few other choice words."
"You could be a target," Jim muttered as he rubbed
his temples with one hand. "I hadn't even realized--"
"I figured as much. It's okay, Jim. You
don't see me as a Jew. Hell, I'm so fallen away that I don't see myself
as a Jew until somebody throws it in my face. Mom never was much on
organized religion and me, well, I had a bar mitzvah but that was my
grandmother's idea and I try to remember all the holidays but..." he
shrugged.
"Ellison, Sandburg, get in here." Simon's order
drew the partners' attention. Apologetic smiles were exchanged in lieu of
words as they moved to comply. "Sit down, you two. Jade is on
her way over with some information that you may want to see."
"Jade?" Blair asked.
"Dr. Jadyn Thomas, local psychologist, specializes in
hate groups, Sandburg."
"I know her."
"Tell me you didn't date her, Sandburg."
Blair almost laughed. "No, I didn't date her,
Simon. I haven't dated every woman I know."
"That's a miracle," Simon grumbled.
Jim grinned. "So, how do you know her,
Chief?"
"I met her at a seminar I went to on serial
killers."
"You went to a seminar on serial killers? What
for?" Jim questioned.
"Well, it was after Lash and I wanted to be better
prepared for the next one, you know? Anyway, we talked. She's a
real nice woman. I liked her but she was seeing someone else."
Jim noticed the slight scowl on Simon's face as Blair
mentioned his interest in the woman. He would have to remember to tell
Blair later that perhaps Dr. Thomas was still off-limits. The three of
them spent the next several minutes discussing the Jags and possible plans for
a fishing trip as they waited for the good doctor to arrive. When she
did, Jim's speculations were proven to be truth as the rather small woman blew
into the office and was immediately embraced by their captain. Jim had to
reach over and close Blair's mouth with a quick pop on the younger man's
chin. Blair glared at him and Jim had to stifle a chuckle.
_______________________________________________________
The introductions and re-introductions were over and Jade,
as she preferred to be called, opened her briefcase. "Okay, here is a list
of all the known hate groups that operate in this area of the
country." Jade placed a surprisingly hefty stack of paper in front
of them on the table. Blair was taken aback. The apparent volume of
material she had collected was disturbing and a bit overwhelming.
"You're kidding?" he asked.
"Afraid not. There are lots of them out
there. However, rest assured that while the total number is large, some
of them are very selective about who they hate so we can eliminate some right
away. Like these folks," she pointed to a name on the first page,
"they only hate criminals."
"Excuse me?" Jim looked as puzzled as Blair
felt.
"They have been accused of tracking down released cons
and harassing and even killing them. No proof yet, no arrests or anything
but they have spoken very loudly regarding allowing scum on the streets.
Who knows? Maybe they did, maybe they didn't but let's face facts. Sorry
guys, but cops don't really push cases where the victim is a convicted rapist,
murderer, child molester, etc. Oh, and here's this group. They
don't like writers."
"Writers?" Blair laughed a little.
"Well, a select group. Occult fiction writers,
mainly. They get a little ticked off when their religion gets misrepresented
and such. Death threats, harassment, an assault or two is their MO.
Anyway, remember, we included anyone who has ever expressed a desire to see any
other person or group harmed in any way. There are anti-abortion groups
on this list because some of them have said that abortion doctors should be
shot for what they do. The fact of the matter is, right now, the majority
of these folks are harmless, but that may not always be the case.
Tomorrow, one of these groups that we ignore may get a new leader, a
charismatic one, that leads them in a not so harmless direction."
She smoothed her short cinnamon-red hair back away from her face and sat down.
"I never knew there were so many," Blair remarked
as he flipped through some of the pages.
"Most people don't realize, and that is what is really
dangerous about them. They operate undetected most of the time."
"Well, let's get to it. So, Jade, what are we
looking for? General bigots?" Jim inquired.
"Pretty much. Racists, in particular. You've had
two victims, one Oriental, one black. So they don't stick to one
race. Could be the obvious. The Ku Klux Klan, although I actually
doubt that. They tend to be more subtle. The White Aryan
Resistance, the Chosen Sons, they're new, by the way. The Neo-Nazis, the
list goes on and on."
"Just a few days ago, I spoke with a friend who
specifically studies the movement and growth of hate groups in this area.
I have good news and bad news. He says there aren't any new groups moving
in. That's the good news. The bad news is that the groups that are
here are alive and well. Primarily, we are looking at a few Neo-Nazi
groups, one which actively recruits on Rainier campus, and the White Aryan
Resistance which is actually not what you'd call separate from the Neo-Nazi's,
just more sophisticated. They like to use the young guys in the Neo-Nazi
groups as foot soldiers, in other words, fall guys, for their dirtiest
deeds."
"Perfect. Just what we need." Jim
sighed. Blair bit his lip and prayed to wake up. But the nightmare
persisted and he was forced to acknowledge it as reality. Reality really
sucked sometimes.
___________________________________________________________
One hour later, Jim had a healthy list of suspects and a
splitting headache. He thanked Jade and headed for the truck, his
obviously troubled partner slightly behind him. He climbed into the
driver's seat and waited for Blair who had stopped to talk to Rhonda. A
worried frown took over Jim's face. He had really had no idea that
Cascade was infested with these hatemongers. Sure, there had been that one case
where those black churches had been bombed but that turned out to the work of a
one guy. This, however, was not one unbalanced person. Then there
was Kincaid, but he and his cronies were hopefully gone for good and Jim had
been ready to write that off as an aberration. Apparently, he had been
mistaken and naive. Jade's list had included all of the Pacific
Northwest, true, but she kept pointing out which groups had supporters right in
Cascade, and Jim was alarmed. Jim could not help the sense of disgust and
dread building up in his chest. There were active Neo-Nazis in
Cascade. That probably alarmed him the most, if the truth be told. Sandburg.
*Enough said,* Jim's worried mind whispered. And these people were on the
Rainier campus. Jim sighed and rubbed his temples while his imagination
took that fact and ran with it. Blair and skinheads on a collision
course. The scenario just did not, could not have a satisfactory outcome
for Jim. So deep in thought was he that when Blair opened the passenger
door, Jim nearly jumped out of his skin.
Blair looked shocked. "You didn't hear me coming,
did you?"
"I have a headache." Jim hoped that Blair would
leave it alone. Wasted energy on that hope. He had known that,
though.
"Where were you, Jim?"
"Right here."
"Yeah, right. You were a million miles
away. Otherwise, your supersonic ears would have known exactly where *I*
was long before I got to the truck. What were you thinking about?"
"Just the case, Chief."
Blair nodded sagely. "I'll give you a shoulder
rub and make you some willow bark tea when we get home. Maybe they'll
help with your headache."
"Thanks, Chief."
"Not a problem."
"I'll take you by the university to get your car then
I'm going to go pick up the first guy on the suspect list. Meet me back
here?"
"Gotcha."
Jim cranked the truck and pulled out into traffic. The
cab of the truck was silent for several minutes before Blair spoke again.
"You know what I was thinking about, Jim?"
"No, what's that?"
"I was thinking about the fact that there are Neo-Nazis
on campus and I was trying to picture my classes and trying to determine if any
of them were in those classes. I don't like thinking about it, Jim, but I
can't help it. There are people on campus who would hate me because of my
name."
"I know you're worried, Blair. I could arrange
some protection until we catch these guys."
"Who's gonna protect the rest of the students?
Can you arrange protection for every minority student on campus? Besides,
this goes beyond the people responsible for the assaults. I've always
known that in certain places with certain people, I could be a target, Jim.
That is never far from my mind. I just never realized that one of those
places could be Rainier, or my classroom and that some of those people could be
my students or my classmates. Somehow, I thought in a place of learning,
that kind of ignorance would be dispelled, non-existent. Call me naive
but I really wanted to believe that this was somebody outside the
University. Now, I know that it could very well be someone inside the
University. Hell, Jim, it could be someone inside one of my
classes. I hate that."
"I know, Blair. I'm sorry." Jim
reached over and grasped his young guide's shoulder. "You wanted to
know what I was thinking about when you got in the truck? The very same
thing, Chief, the very same thing. I want you to have protection.
I'm worried about you."
"You don't know how tempted I am to take you up on that
but no, Jim. I can't let this scare me into jumping at shadows and
dragging around a bodyguard. I'll be careful."
"Sandburg--"
"Jim, please, I've made up my mind about this.
Rainier is my ground and I'm gonna stand on it, okay?"
Jim swore silently. "I have conditions,
Chief."
Blair gave him a rueful smile. "Let's hear 'em,
Jim."
"No more late nights. Bring your stuff back to
the loft. If you see that you going to be late when you're supposed to
meet me, then you call. As a matter of fact, call anyway so I'll know
when to expect you and where you are. And park that piece of junk you
call a car closer to the building, and if you absolutely have to be there at
night, under a damn streetlight. I don't think that's too
unreasonable."
"Piece of junk?" Blair smirked as he glanced
around the cab of the truck. "Look who's talking. You know,
you picked on me about my 'classic' and then you go out and buy this. Why
is my car a piece of junk and your truck is a 'classic?'"
"Because mine runs, Chief." Jim grinned at
him. "So do we have a deal or do you get a shadow?"
Blair rolled his eyes. "We have a deal."
"Good. Now, don't roll your eyes at me again,
Junior, or else."
"Yeah, yeah, tough guy. I'm shaking."
The smirk was back on his partner's face and Jim just had to cuff him on the
side of the head.
"Smartass."
"And cute too."
"Excuse me?"
"My ass. Savannah says it's cute."
"I truly wouldn't know, Chief."
"Damn, Jim, I hope not."
Jim shook his finger at his guide. "Watch it,
Ace."
"Kinda hard to do without a mirror," the young man
quipped as he turned to look over his shoulder.
"That's it. This discussion is over. I'm
not even going there."
"I win!" Blair exulted and Jim chuckled. His
guide was happy again and that was good enough.
______________________________________________________
"Come on, Derrick. We know that you're the head
honcho on Rainier campus. We know that all your skinhead buddies take
orders from you. Question is, did you give the orders or do you have a
few rogues in your organization? Which is it?" Blair watched
from the observation room with Simon as Jim circled the young man seated at the
table in the interrogation room. He had gotten back from the university
just in time to see Jim bring the man in for questioning. Blair shook his
head. The kid had gotten belligerent when Jim had tried to talk to him at
his dorm, Simon had explained. So Jim had brought him in.
"I didn't give any orders for any of my boys to attack
anybody, and none of my people have gone rogue on me. We don't have a
thing to do with those attacks." Blair examined Derrick Baker as he
spoke. He was pretty stereotypical as skinheads went. Shaved head,
combat boots, jeans, t-shirt, a few tattoos but nothing overtly racist.
"And not a single double negative in there. You
know, Derrick, you seem like a smart, educated guy. For a bigot."
"You've got nothing on me, cop."
"Baker, I believe you." Jim told him. Baker
looked incredulous. "No, really, I do," Jim
assured. "I believe that you didn't give the orders but I don't know
if I'm sure that you don't have a few guys who are out doing what bigots seem
to like to do. Maybe you know about it or maybe you don't. Maybe they
aren't telling you. Which is it? Do you know about it, Derrick? Or
are you in the dark? Is it your people? I don't think you're
sure. Are you sure, Derrick?"
Blair could see Baker swallow hard. "No," he
whispered.
"What was that?" Jim asked and Blair smiled,
knowing Jim heard the young man loud and clear.
"No. I'm not sure."
"I see."
"But I'll find out."
"And then what, Derrick?"
"I'll put a stop to it."
"Why? I thought this kind of thing is what you
were all about."
"It's the wrong time and place. Wrong methods as
well. We'll be ready one day, cop. Then you can either join us or
join them. If I were you, I'd go with the winner."
"I intend to, Baker. I intend to." Jim
looked straight at the two-way mirror then and gave his partner a slight smile
before turning back to Baker. "Now, I'm going to tell you what you
are going to do, Derrick. You see, you're going to do more than put a
stop to it. If you find out any of your people are involved, you're going
to tell me who they are."
Baker was shaking his head even before Jim stopped
speaking. "Dream on, cop."
Jim smiled and Blair could not help but think that an iceberg
would have held more warmth. "Suit yourself, Baker. Just
remember, if I find out that your people were involved and that you knew,
you're going down with 'em. It'll be really hard to take part in your
glorious revolution from a jail cell. See you 'round." Jim left the
room and quickly appeared in the doorway of the observation room.
"He doesn't know who is it but when I mentioned rogues in his group being
responsible, his heart rate shot up. I think we'd better watch these
guys, Simon."
"I'll put together a few surveillance
teams." Simon frowned and chewed on the end of his cigar a little as
he left the room.
"Sorry I had to keep you out of there, Chief."
"I understand that, Jim." Blair assured the
Sentinel as he turned to look at the man in the other room again.
"Have you taught him?" Jim inquired.
Blair shook his head. "Maybe he took one look at
my name on the class schedules and steered clear of the anthrop.
department."
"No great loss there, I think," Jim remarked.
Blair shook his head again. "You're wrong there,
Jim. Every soul we lose to these hatemongers is a loss. And who
knows what he might have been if he hadn't been taught or indoctrinated into
this hatred? Any loss is great."
________________________________________________________
Walayla Meadowbrook gripped the strap of her backpack as she
made her way across the parking lot toward her car. It was getting dark
and she needed to get home before her father got worried. She tried to
dig in her purse with one hand to find her keys but just could not seem to find
them in all the junk that tended to accumulate in the big bag. She
stopped and dropped the backpack on the ground. Holding the bag open with
one hand, she dug with the other. Her hand had just closed on the elusive
keys when the van pulled along beside her. She glanced up just in time to
see two masked men pour out of the side door. She only had time for a
short scream before she was dragged inside the vehicle and was gone, her
backpack still sitting in the nearly deserted parking lot.
_________________________________________________________
"Morning, Chief." Jim watched as his roommate rubbed his eyes and
yawned as he made his way out of his bedroom and into the bath.
"Morning," the young man mumbled.
Jim chuckled. The only time Blair was in low gear was
before his shower in the morning. He would go into the bathroom,
shuffling his feet and half-asleep and come out like someone had lit a fire
beneath him. He would not slow down again until he collapsed into his
bed, usually some time long after midnight. It was not often that Jim got
to watch this revival as Blair was usually up before him and making breakfast
while Jim was in the shower, but this morning Jim had awoke early and decided
to go and get breakfast. He wondered if it had even occurred to his
nearly incoherent partner that the morning's routine had been altered. It
would probably dawn on him about the time that water hit him in the face.
Jim settled at the table and flipped absent- mindedly though the paper.
Minutes later, the bathroom door opened and a revved-up whirlwind of
anthropologist blew into the kitchen.
"Sorry, Jim. I'll have breakfast done in a
few. Did I oversleep?"
"Hey! Chill out, Junior. I got up early and
I bought breakfast. Sit down. You have a blueberry bagel with
blueberry cream cheese waiting on you over here." Jim waved his
partner over to the table.
"Blueberry cream cheese?" Blair picked up the
bagel.
"It's something new the deli down the street is trying
out. It smelled pretty good and I know you like the blueberry bagel with
the plain cheese so I took a chance."
Jim almost laughed as Sandburg examined the bagel with a
critical eye. "Looks good," he finally commented before biting
into it. "Mmm, tastes good, too"
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Jim scolded
with a smile.
Blair made a face at him and sat down. "I guess
this means that you had the 'dreaded donuts of death' for breakfast."
"Oh, please, cut the melodrama. 'Dreaded donuts
of death,'" Jim chuckled. "I had my favorite, yes, I did.
And they aren't the 'dreaded donuts of death.' They're buttermilk donuts."
"Jim, do you know why there's a hole in the middle of a
donut?"
"I'm sure you're about to enlighten me."
"Because that was where the nutritional value
was. Couldn't leave that in there. Sugar, fat, and cholesterol,
that's what you ate for breakfast."
"And it sure was delicious, Chief. Now, if that is so
though, explain the hole in your bagel."
"That's where they cut out the sugar, fat, and
cholesterol that they used to make your donuts."
Jim rolled his eyes and gave up. "Eat. We
have to get to the station."
Blair saluted him and Jim reached over with the newspaper
and batted his guide on the head with it. "Hey! What was that
for?"
"That salute was sloppy, soldier. Better
practice. And get a haircut." Jim got up and headed for the
bathroom but his sentinel ears heard the smart remark mumbled around blueberry
bagel about Jim having Army flashbacks. He smiled as he turned off
the light Blair had left on.
A few minutes later, the two men climbed into the
truck. They were halfway to the station when Simon's call came in.
Jim hung up the cell phone and turned to face his partner. He knew that
his expression would tell his guide all he needed to know. He was
apparently right as Blair bit his lip and closed his eyes, hanging his
head. Jim touched him on the shoulder then turned the truck in the
direction of the university.
"This is getting so old, so fast, man."
"I know, Chief."
_________________________________________________________________
"Three victims in two days. The press is having a
field day and we have no leads at all. I am not a happy man, gentlemen,
and if I have to be unhappy, so do you. Walayla Meadowbrook is still in
surgery. The doctors are not sure she's going to make it. She was
scalped, for god's sake! I want these guys." Simon paced the
conference room where his detectives and his anthropologist sat going through
any and all information they had. A knock on the door interrupted his
lecture. "Come!" he barked.
"Good morning, Simon," Jade Thomas smirked at him
as she entered the room. Simon smiled apologetically and she turned her
attention to the rest of the room. "Good morning,
gentlemen." She sat down in the empty chair beside Sandburg.
"Sorry, I'm late. I was running a computer search on similar crimes
on college campuses around the country and found a few things. What did I
miss?"
"Not a whole lot. We don't have a whole lot to go
on. We do have a third victim." Jim explained, passing the folder
down to her.
"Oh yes, I heard. The media is all in a frenzy
over this. It was all I could find on the TV and the radio this
morning." She opened the folder and Simon was amazed as she managed to
keep her calm demeanor despite the sudden lack of color in her face.
"Prairie nigger," she read the spray painted message on the girl's
back from one of the pictures. She looked up at Simon and for a moment
Simon was certain that he saw the fury of all hell in her green eyes then it
was gone. Just a flash then nothing as she nodded and took a deep
breath. She closed the folder. "Any news on her
condition?"
"Still in surgery," Blair answered. "It
doesn't look good."
"The surveillance teams have nothing?" she
directed the question at Brown and Rafe who were seated across the table from
her.
"Not a thing. If it's the skinheads on campus
then they are doing it without leaving their dorms and apartments," Brown
answered.
"Derrick Baker called a meeting of his group last
night. They met, he read them the riot act, told them that they better
hope that they weren't involved. The meeting broke up and they all went
straight home. Taggert and Preston are watching Baker now and the other
surveillance teams are still in place but I don't see how it could be
them," Rafe explained.
She nodded and drew several computer printouts out of her
briefcase and threw them on the table. "These are reports of similar
hate crimes on college campuses around the country. Most of them have
been traced back to various hate groups and the people responsible are in jail
but a few are unsolved. The crimes went on for a little while but then
stopped."
"What are you suggesting? A traveling hate group?"
Simon asked incredulously.
"I have no idea, Simon, I mean, Captain Banks.
But I no longer think that we are dealing with one of the run-of-the-mill
groups we have information about. Something is bugging the hell out of me
about this and I can't put my finger on it."
"You think we're staring at a clue and not seeing
it? Like what?" Jim prompted.
"I don't know. Maybe it's just me. I'd love
to get input from all of you. Otherwise, I'll let you know as soon as I
figure it out."
Simon watched as Blair gathered the papers on the table and
began to sift through them. Conversations went on around him but Sandburg
was carefully examining the papers and Simon wanted to see what he would
find. One glance at Jim confirmed that he too was watching his partner,
silent and patient. Both men had come to expect new perspectives and
insights from the young man and they waited for some of those insights as the
pages were turned and the brow furrowed in thought. Sandburg looked up
then, not at any one person but past all of them, the ideas nearly visible in
his blue eyes.
Simon almost jumped at the sound of Jim's question, breaking
his concentration on Blair. "Do you have something, Blair?"
"It's not one group. They aren't traveling.
All of these have happened during the same time of each semester, sometimes
simultaneously. So it can't be the same people. Jim, we need to be
looking at fraternities."
"Fraternities?" Simon leaned over the table to get
closer. "Why?"
"All of these unsolved crimes have taken place during
the period of time when most of the Greek organizations on campuses are having
Rush Week and initiation. I think we may be looking at a new form of
hazing." The rest of the room was suddenly silent.
"Sandburg, are you saying that you think a fraternity
may be using hate crimes as a initiation rite?" Jim asked, sitting up in
his chair.
Blair only nodded.
"That's it!" Jade exclaimed. "That's
what I was missing. I knew the timing had to be important but I couldn't
figure out why."
"Yes! A lead, finally!" Simon slapped the
table and stood up.
"Don't get happy yet, Simon," Blair spoke.
"Never has there been a more exclusive and closed society as the college
fraternity. There won't be any inside information, no undercover agents,
no turncoats turning state's evidence. If this is being perpetrated by a
fraternity, this is going to be a hard case to crack. There is a perfectly
good reason why these cases are unsolved if there is a fraternity
involved."
"He's right. Brotherhood is a powerful thing,
gentlemen. We are going to have our work cut out for us," Jade told
them.
"And we don't have much time. The attacks go on for
about two weeks and then stop all together," Blair announced.
"That's not the only time restraint we are working
under," Simon said, rubbing his eyes. Every head turned to
him. "The Feds are coming. Hate crime is a federal
offense. They will take this investigation from us. We have 24
hours before they take over."
Jim swore and made certain assumptions around the
conceptions of federal agents before turning to stare out of the window.
Simon agreed with Jim's unkind theories.
_____________________________________________________________
Blair walked into his Anthrop. 101 class in a bad
mood. He had stayed up most of the night, alternately working on the
case, grading one set of tests, and making out another test. The ones he
had graded were so bad that he wondered why he even bothered to come to this
class. Not to mention that the revelations from the morning meeting in
Simon's office had not exactly improved his disposition. He pulled the
graded tests out of his bag and began to pass them out. "I'm getting the
feeling that some of you thought, mistakenly, of course, that this course was
going to be an easy 'A.’. Perhaps if
you aren't willing to put forth a little more effort, you should stop by the
registrar's office on the way out today and drop this class now before you ruin
your grade point average. I'm sorry but I am just not going to accept
half-hearted, half-thought out answers. I expect you to think. If I
wanted a mindless regurgitation of facts, I would have given a multiple-choice
test. I don't give multiple-choice tests. To say I was disappointed
would be like such an understatement. Now, where did we leave off?"
Blair got out his notes and formally began the class. Fifty minutes
later, his students filed out of the classroom, one by one.
"Mr. Sandburg, could I talk to you about my
grade?"
Blair looked up from his paper shuffling to meet the eyes of
Kevin Harris. "Sure, Kevin. What's the problem?"
"Sir, I think I had this one pegged. What was I
missing?" He was pointing at essay number three. Blair took
the paper from his hand. Kevin had made the best grade in the class,
still a "C" but the best one of the bunch just the same.
"I listed all of the characteristics of the Mayan religion that were
listed in the book."
"Well, see, that's the problem. I listed several
more in class and none of them are here, Kevin. I'm sorry. I did
give you credit for what you had but I couldn't give you full credit because
you only half answered the question."
"I see. Look, Mr. Sandburg, I need to maintain a
'B' to keep my scholarship. I can't afford too many 'C's'. You can
understand that, can't you?"
"Of course, I can. I went to school on
scholarships and grants and loans too. Kevin, it's one test. You'll
have lots more before the end of the semester. Just try to come to class
more often, okay? That way, you don't miss the lectures. I say a
lot of stuff that you just aren't going to find in that book."
Kevin Harris smiled a smile that held no warmth. Blair
held out his paper to him, but the student only glanced at it with a sneer and
walked out. Blair frowned and shrugged. He dropped the paper into
his bag and headed back to his office.
_________________________________________________________________
"Mark, he failed you, man! The little kike failed
you. You're in the same boat as me. We have to keep our grades up
to keep our scholarships." Mark Coley listened as his best friend
complained about their Anthropology professor. Mark frowned. He had
made the lowest grade in the class apparently. At least Kevin had
passed. He decided to point that out.
"What the hell are you complaining about? You
passed, man! I should have never let you talk me into partying with the
frat the night before the test. I'm not like you, Kev, I have to
study!"
"You do want to be in the fraternity, don't you?
Man, we have been friends for a long time. Now we have the chance to be
brothers. You just got to get past your last test."
"Which is?"
Kevin smiled but only anger was in his eyes.
"Teach the Teach a lesson."
"What are you going on about?" Mark asked, fearing
that he already knew, bits and pieces of hushed conversation at the frat party
falling into place to form a frightening and gruesome picture.
"Sandburg. I think he needs to understand that
there are people he needs to show a little respect to, you know?"
"Oh, man! Tell me I'm wrong! Did that black guy
and that Indian girl need to learn respect, too, Kev? Are you involved in
that? And Yoko? Man, I liked her."
"That had nothing to do with liking or disliking
people. It has to do with loyalty! With
brotherhood! But now, Sandburg, I think I can't honestly say that him I don't
like."
"Kevin, man, this is not right! What did
you do?"
"The African dude was mine. They picked him out
and helped me grab him. I got to decide what to do with him and do most
of it myself. Man, what a rush! And I was there when they grabbed
that Indian girl."
"Kevin, this is sick! They say that girl may
die! Forget it, dude. I want no part of any of this, and besides, I
like Mr. Sandburg. So I failed one test. I deserved to fail that
test, man, letting you talk me into partying all damn night before it.
This fraternity stuff is you, Kev. It's not really me and I'll be damned
before I let your delusions of brotherhood get me involved in this sick
game." Mark Coley turned to walk away.
"Mark?" He stopped. "Don't you
run your mouth to anybody about this, Mark. We're friends and it would be
a damn shame if something were to happen to you. You get my drift?"
"Yeah, Kevin. I get your drift." Mark
continued on his way.
______________________________________________________________
Blair pulled his book out of his pack and along with it came
Kevin Harris's discarded test paper. He picked it up and stared at
it. He had had students like Harris before. They seemed to think
that they were owed good grades. He shook his head and was about to put
the paper down when something caught his eye. A chill ran down his spine
as he examined the scrawled handwriting on the paper. The "n"
in Kevin was particularly of interest to him with its point just there and a
curve just so. A shaky hand fumbled for his cell phone. He had to
call Jim. A knock on the door nearly caused Blair to have a heart
attack. "Come in," he said absently as he pressed the speed
dial on the phone before raising his eyes to see who had entered. *Ski
masks?* The momentary confusion quickly gave way to stark terror as he
placed the importance of ski masks. He dropped the phone and immediately
began to plan his defense. As he counted off five intruders, he
maneuvered a chair between himself and the attackers and a letter opener
provided something of a weapon. It was not good enough.
_________________________________________________________________
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.
__________________________________________________________
"She's been gone for a couple of hours now,
Simon. I tried to break it to her gently. She hates me."
"She'll come around, Jim. She's a smart
woman. She's just hurt right now."
"Yeah." Jim stared at the bland little
framed print hanging on the wall of the room for a moment then turned his
attention back to his guide. "Orenda came in a few minutes after
Naomi left. She says he's getting better. Looks like his kidneys
are going to be okay, she says. Less blood than yesterday. Just
bruised. No complications so far. If he'd just take a breath on his
own and open his eyes, we'd be home free."
Simon got up and placed a hand on Jim's shoulder.
"He will, Jim."
"Coffee, guys." Jade entered the room.
She handed off the cups quickly and headed out again.
"Where are you going, baby?"
"I just got a page. I have to call the
office. I'll be back." Then she was gone.
"So has Harris fallen off the face of the earth or
what?" Jim asked his captain, standing up from the chair.
"So far, we have nothing." Simon sighed.
"Nothing but Baker."
"Jim, I wouldn't put much stock in Baker."
"I know what you mean, but he seemed serious. He
seems too set on the delusion of a glorious victory in battle to jeopardize his
chances of being there by helping Harris and going to prison." Jim paced
the small room and then stopped by the bedside of his friend once more.
"Well, I'd be a lot happier if our case did not depend
on the delusions of grandeur of some Neo-Nazi skinhead."
"I couldn't agree more but that's where we are if
Harris doesn't surface soon."
"Captain Banks, I need to speak with Jim alone if you
don't mind." Naomi's voice startled them both.
Simon met Jim's eyes and Jim nodded. "I need to
find Jade anyway." The big man paused briefly just behind Naomi and
signaled for Jim to keep his chin up, then he ducked quickly out the door.
"I don't know what to say to you, Naomi. I'm
sorry that this has hurt you, but I'm not sorry that we did it."
"I wish I could hate you, James Ellison. I really
wish that I could but I can't."
"That's good news," Jim muttered.
"There's that sarcasm again."
"Actually, I wasn't being sarcastic, Naomi. It
really is good news. You could make my life pretty miserable if you hated
me. But more importantly, you could make Blair pretty miserable,
too."
"I know. That's why I can't hate you. I
don't understand how it happened, and I certainly don't understand why, but
you are important to my son. And as much as I hate to say this, you are
right. You are here, and--- most of the time, I am not. I don't
have to like this, you know. I suppose, however, that I have to respect
it. Now, what this means to me exactly right now is that I have to deal
with you, not the doctor or the hospital."
"I'm not pulling any plugs, Naomi. You can just
put that right out of your head."
"Jim, I do know what that monitor means. I know
about brain activity. I also know that the living will that Blair had
drawn up said, ‘no extraordinary efforts and no life sustaining
machines.' That ventilator is a life sustaining machine."
"The old one might have said that, Naomi, but the new
one is very different. It says that as long as there is brain activity,
then the doctors are to do whatever they need to do to keep him alive. If
there is no brain activity, and I pray to God every day that I won't ever see
that day, I have control. I decide when to let go, Naomi."
Naomi was shaking her head slowly. "You'll never
let go. I can see that. Blair has made a big mistake."
Fury tinged Jim's vision red. "Of all the damn
nerve! You think you're a better choice? Hey, you're ready at the drop of
a hat to let go from what I can see! I got news for you, lady, your son's
a fighter. I just don't think he's as gung-ho on dying as you seem to
think. He's got his whole damn life ahead of him and I intend to make
sure he gets to live it if at all possible. Not to mention, where the
hell have you been when he's needed you? You are never here. You
breeze in, make a few decrees, burn a little sage, stir up his life, and
disappear again. Hell, Naomi, even if you did still have control of his
living will, we would never be able to find you to ask you what we should
do! And don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. He'd be dead
already if you had been around more. He's been here before, Naomi.
When he was dosed with Golden, when he was shot last year, I was here.
You weren't. I couldn't find you. I made the decisions that had to
be made and he's still here. No, I won't just let go! So, you
do your mantras and you process all you want, but don't you dare try to
challenge me on this. I won't back down."
"His life is not yours to play with!"
"He's not yours either!"
"He's my son!"
"So what?! He's--" A choking sound from the
bed stopped Jim's angry reply in his throat. "Naomi,--"
"I'll get the doctor." She ran from the room
as Jim leaned over his guide just in time to see panicked blue eyes open.
"Just relax, Chief. The doctor will be here
soon. Don't fight the ventilator." A tear slid down Blair's
temple and his brow furrowed as Jim caressed his forehead gently.
"It's okay. Don't get upset. Everything will be just
fine. Do you remember what happened?" A look of confusion gave
Jim his answer. "That's okay. We'll talk about it all
later."
Orenda blew into the room then, and Jim was pushed unceremoniously
out of the way and out of the door by the pushy little nurse that followed her.
He had to watch from the doorway with Naomi. Moments later, Orenda joined
them in the hall as the nurse went back to her station.
"How is he?" Naomi asked hurriedly.
"Tired, in pain, but awake and relatively
coherent. Don't push. Let him rest and he'll be just fine.
You can go back in to see him if you like. Just don't expect him to talk
a lot or to understand a whole lot of what you say. He'll fade in and out
and sleep a lot for the next few days. If you need me, I'll be close
by." She left them then.
Awkward silence filled the space between Jim and the woman
that was his best friend's mother. Their eyes met and locked for a long
moment. Finally, Jim could stand it no longer. "Well, if you
aren't going in, I am."
"I'm his mother."
Jim sighed in disgust. "Why don't we both go
in?"
"After you."
"No, after you. Ladies first."
"Oh, not his mother first, but *ladies* first."
"Oh, for crying out loud." Jim brushed past
her and into the room. He made it Blair's bedside just seconds ahead of
Naomi, even though she opted to go to the other side of the bed.
"Hey, Chief." Jim smiled down at his partner.
"Better now that the tube is gone, huh?"
Blair nodded a little.
"Baby, mama's here." Naomi touched Blair's
cheek. "Can I get you anything?"
Again, Blair nodded.
"What, Baby?"
Blair looked at her and then at Jim. He swallowed and
grimaced at the pain it caused. Jim
thought he could almost feel that pain himself. "Don't fight
anymore, please." The voice was so small and raspy and yet, it had
the power to leave Jim's knees shaky. Blair had heard at least some of
their argument apparently. He looked at Naomi's stricken face. She
blushed furiously, and Jim knew that she was feeling the same shame that he
was.
"You got it, partner. No more
fighting." Jim told him, all the while, hoping that he could keep
his word. Naomi had not forgiven him. He could see that in her
eyes. She might be sorry that Blair had overheard them and gotten upset,
but she was still angry. It was only a matter of time.
__________________________________________________________________
"Hello?" Mark Coley mumbled into the phone as he
rubbed his eyes. He hated to wake up to a ringing phone.
"Mark, I need some help, buddy."
"Kevin? Oh man, Kev, what the hell are you doing
calling me? I don't want any part of this. You are in the shit,
man. The feds are on your tail."
"Feds?! What for?"
"Hate crime is a federal offense, you idiot! I
can't believe you!" Mark heard his former friend swear on the other
end of the phone. "I can't help you, Kevin."
"Can't or won't?"
"Both."
"You're my best friend, Mark."
"I was your best friend, Kevin. Until you let
your so called brothers turn you into somebody I don't want to know."
"Who rolled on me, man? Do you know?"
Mark was silent. What could he say?
"Shit! I can't believe it! Mark, why,
man?"
"Because I have to look at myself in the mirror every
morning, Kev. Listen to me. You
need to turn yourself in. Don't make them come for you, Kev. Make
it easier on yourself. From what I heard, that cop that hangs with Mr.
Sandburg would like nothing better than to put a few holes in you. Turn
yourself in."
"Not going to happen, Mark. I got somebody else
willing to help me out. Thanks for nothing, man. And Mark, watch
your back, dude." With a click, he was gone.
Mark sighed heavily and hung up the phone. He sat for a few
minutes just staring at the wall of his dorm room then turned his head to the
empty bed across the room. Once, it had been Kevin's. That was
before he started spending all his time at the frat house. Officially, he
was still living there but he had not spent the night there for weeks and his
stuff was long since gone as well. Mark wondered about the frat's
willingness to allow Kevin, as just a pledge, to stay at the house. They
had not given him a room but he was sleeping on an old couch in Will Franklin's
room. He groaned as he realized that just maybe Kevin was so welcome
because he had given the frat their perfect initiation rite. What if the
attacks had been Kevin's idea? It seemed all too possible. Even if
Kevin had not come up with the idea, he certainly did not have any trouble
participating. How could he have never
known that Kevin was capable of such cruelty?
He sighed and picked up the phone. He needed to call Captain Banks
and those feds.
________________________________________________________________
"Well..."
"Well, what?" Jim responded to the woman
across his partner's bed from him.
"This is uncomfortable." Naomi replied flippantly.
"Don't start, Naomi. We promised that we wouldn't
fight. Just because he's asleep now doesn't mean I'm going to go back on
that promise."
"I'm not fighting. I'm just stating a fact. Don't
you have some cop stuff to do or something? Shouldn't you be finding the
monster that did this to him?" She pointed at her son's sleeping form.
"I'm waiting to hear from an informant and I'm off duty
right now anyway."
"I see."
"Naomi," Jim sighed, "we were friends
once. This doesn't have to be this way."
"We were friends before you let this happen to
him. And you do realize that we both are not supposed to be in here at
the same time, right?"
"Damn it, Naomi. You think I wouldn't give
anything to be able to go back and prevent this? You think I wouldn't
gladly trade places with him? I would. Anything, everything I have,
everything I am I would give up to have kept him from this pain. But it's
too late for that now and I feel incredibly guilty that I wasn't there.
That I didn't prevent it. That I could have probably prevented it if I
had just gone against his wishes and put some protection on him. But he
didn't want protection, and he's a grown man, and it was a matter of principle
for him, and I didn't want to take that away from him, so I let it go. I
don't need your accusations and recriminations, Naomi. I've got enough of
my own. You don't need to *make* me feel guilty, Naomi. I already
do. So, can we just stop the hostility and focus on getting him back on
his feet? He's the victim of a hate crime. Do you realize what that
means? Do you know how devastating that can be to a person? He's
not just physically hurt here. He's emotionally traumatized. The
last thing he needs to have to deal with is you and me bickering and using him
as the rope in some twisted tug-of-war."
"That's quite a speech. Did you practice that in
the mirror?"
Jim drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, while mentally
counting to ten. "You are bound and determined to piss me off,
aren't you? You want me to lose my temper and break my promise to Blair
so you can crow about it to him and prove to him that I'm not worthy of him and
his friendship. Well, it won't work. As it is, this conversation is
getting dangerously close to turning into an argument so I'm bowing out of it.
You may continue to talk if you like, Naomi, but the walls will be your only
audience. But I'm not leaving. You'll just have to be
uncomfortable." Jim sat down in the chair behind him and
deliberately tuned his senses to close out the woman in the room with him until
he could almost swear he was alone in the room with his best friend. He
could only hear Blair's soft breathing and heartbeat. He could no longer
smell Naomi's perfume. He could only smell his partner's unique scent
with a hint of the baby powder scented soap that the nurse had used when she
gave the younger man a sponge bath earlier. From his sitting position,
most of his view of the woman was obscured by the her son and the bed he was
lying in so it only took minimal adjustments to narrow his field of vision to
just the rise and fall of Blair's chest. Yes, Chief, being a sentinel had its
advantages.
And a few disadvantages, Jim discovered as someone shook him
hard and a panicked voice registered in his ears. "What!?
What?" he nearly shouted as he faced a white-faced nurse.
"Oh, Mr. Ellison, you scared the life out of me!
I couldn't get you to acknowledge me! Are you all right?"
"Fine, just pre-occupied," Jim assured as he
glanced around the room looking for Naomi. "Where's--"
"She told me that she was going to the cafeteria."
Jim looked down at his watch. It was dinnertime.
He had only been out of it for about an hour. He had not actually zoned,
he supposed. He was still very much aware of the world outside
himself. It was only that the scope of his world had been pared down to
include only his guide. He stood and gently ran one hand over Blair's
forehead before turning to face the nurse once more. "What did you
need?"
"Oh, I forgot," she sighed, a pained expression on
her face. "Your captain is on the phone at the nurse's
station."
"Great, thanks." Jim checked once more to make
sure that Blair was still deeply asleep. He was and was not likely to
awaken in the next few minutes. Jim would have hated to have his friend
wake up alone. Then he followed the nurse out of the cubicle and to the
nurse's station. She handed him the receiver. "Simon, what do
you have?" Jim listened as Simon told him about Harris's call to
Mark Coley. He had been hoping that Baker had called but that was obviously not
the case. Mark Coley was in protective custody in light of the not
so veiled threat from Harris. "Thanks, Simon." He hung up just
in time to see Naomi get off the elevator. She glared at him for a moment
and then walked past him with her head high. He shook his head
sadly. It was going to be a long night. Maybe he needed to get
something to eat and some coffee. Maybe the sullen woman would be easier
to take after a Wonderburger. "Ma'am," he addressed the nurse,
"if she asks, tell her I went to get something to eat and I *will* be
back." It was with almost gleeful maliciousness that he stressed
that last part. "And if Blair wakes up, tell him the same
thing. I don't want him thinking I deserted him. Okay?"
"Sure, Mr. Ellison. Though I doubt seriously he
would ever think such a thing, I will tell him." She smiled at him
sweetly.
"Thanks." Jim returned the smile and with one last
look back, he turned to the elevator.
______________________________________________________________________________
When Jim returned forty minutes later, with Tums in hand for
the indigestion sitting heavy on his chest, Dr. Milap was in the cubicle with
Blair and his mother. "Oh good, Jim, you're back. I was just
about to give out some good news and I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss
it."
"Hey, Jim." Blair whispered softly then as his
eyes took in the roll of Tums in Jim's hand, the soft voice took on a
scolding tone. "You went to Wonderburger, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but--"
"Yeah but nothing. You better be glad I'm in this
bed right now, Jim, else you'd be in deep trouble."
Jim smiled. "Nice to have you back, Chief."
Orenda Milap was grinning at them both. "As I was
saying, gentlemen, Blair is being moved to a room in just a few minutes.
Jim, I figured that you'd want a private room for him."
"Right."
"Good. There's no more blood in your urine,
Blair, so your kidneys are definitely on the mend. Everything seems to be
fine with the surgery and the latest X-rays show that your head is actually
even harder than we originally thought." She lightly ruffled his curls as
she teased him.
Jim could not help but chuckle and Blair joined him albeit
cautiously. "Don't make him laugh, Doc. Hate for you to have
to redo all those stitches." Jim warned. Jim met Naomi's angry eyes
for just a second then. None of this news seemed to make an impression on
her. It was probably not the nicest thing he would ever do but he had to
do something to remove the scowl from the woman's face before her son saw it
and got concerned. "Isn't this great news, Naomi?"
There was a flash of pure hated on her face before the smile
obliterated it. "Wonderful news. Blair, I'm so relieved, sweetie."
Blair reached for his mother's hand and she took it.
"Sorry I scared you, mom."
"Well, I'll leave you all alone now. The
orderlies will be around in a few minutes to get you moved to your new
room. Good night all." Orenda left then and the room
temperature seemed to nosedive. Of course, Blair, the trained
observer noticed immediately.
"Okay, I want to know. What's happening
here? Why are the two of you fighting like this?"
Jim glanced at his best friend's mother. "We're
not fighting, Chief."
"Jim, you are like the worst liar ever.
Mom?"
"It's nothing, sweetie. You just concentrate on
getting better."
"You're angry with him because you think that I got
hurt while I was working with him, right? Well, you're wrong. I was
at the university."
"Do you remember the attack, Blair?" Jim jumped
in.
"Yeah, I remember everything. I don't know who
all of them were but I do know one. Kevin Harris. He wanted me to
know it was him. He took off his ski mask and made sure I knew that he
was the one doing the most damage. I had already figured out that he was
involved though. That's why I was calling you. I thought I
recognized his handwriting. You remember Hassan, the wr--writing on his
forehead? Well, it was the n's, Kevin makes his n's that way. He
was mad at me about his test grade, see? So it had nothing to do with
Jim, Mom."
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room and Jim could
tell that Blair was confused. *Poor kid thinks that all should be well
now.* Jim decided to come clean with it
all. "We have some of the guys in custody, Blair. An informant
told us about Harris. He's still out there but we'll get him,
Buddy. You can count on that. But, I think you should know that the
attack itself is not what has your mother so upset with me--"
"I can speak for myself, Jim Ellison." Naomi
interrupted. "Blair, honey, why did you change your living
will? Why would you give *him* the right to speak for you?"
"Oh shit," Blair whispered softly. He turned
his eyes to Jim. "Was it that bad?"
Jim sighed, glanced from his guide to his mother and back
again. "I didn't think so. Your mother disagreed with me and given
your new living will, the hospital listened to me."
Naomi picked that moment to start ranting again. This
time at her son about how could he trust Jim to make his decisions, knowing
what a control freak Jim was, and why did he not discuss it with her
first. Jim tuned her out and concentrated on the stricken face of his
partner. The expressive blue eyes showed Blair's every emotion. Shock,
confusion, and pain shone out of the depths and Jim watched as they got
brighter with unshed tears. "Naomi." She kept on, her
voice growing more and more shrill. "Naomi," he tried again.
"Naomi! Shut up for a minute." She cut off in
mid-sentence. "Blair, are you all right?" Jim reached out and
touched a trembling shoulder.
"I need to be alone for a while," finally came a
choked reply.
"Blair, honey--"
"Please, Mom."
"Are you sure, Buddy?"
He nodded.
"Blair--"
"Mom! Could you just give me a little while
here?"
"Fine. I hear that." She grabbed her
purse from the windowsill and stormed out of the room.
Jim sighed and shrugged a little at Blair's hurt
expression. "I'll come back later. Call me if you need me."
Blair nodded again and Jim started for the door.
"Hey, Jim."
"Yeah, Chief?"
"Thanks for not pulling the plug, man."
Jim grinned a little then. "Anytime."
_____________________________________________________________________
Simon watched from the back of the lecture hall as Dr.
Thomas, the professional side of his Jade, led those present through an
exercise that Simon was sure was going to cause a riot at any moment. He
even had one hand on his cell phone just in case he needed to call in backup
quick. Suddenly, there was someone next to him. "What are you
doing here? Thought you'd be at the hospital with Blair," he asked
his best detective.
"Blair wanted some time to himself. I think he's
a little shocked at how close this was."
"So he's awake enough to be shocked. That's
good. I'll go by and see him tomorrow. Does he remember?"
"Yep. He confirmed that it was Harris, but he
didn't see any more faces. What the hell does she think she's
doing?" Jim pointed down at Jade.
"I have no idea but I wish she'd get to the point
before we have to get out the riot gear."
_______________________________________________________________________
All across the front of the lecture hall there were charts
set up. Each chart listed a different ethnic or religious group and then
separated each group into male and female. On each chart, Jade wrote down
all the things that were being shouted out to her about each group, while making
note when she could of who had shouted out what. Jim easily read each
chart and understood the tense atmosphere in the room immediately. She
was at the chart that read Islamic people and the assembled crowd was shouting
out that Islamic men were all terrorists and that they beat their wives.
Someone else said that the women were submissive and stupid. After a few
more derogatory comments, Jade moved on to another group and then
another. Every chart was filled with the most hateful and hurtful stereotypes
for that particular group of people and Jim had to wonder what the purpose of
this exercise was. Was Jade trying to pick a fight with several hundred
college students? Finally, after the last chart was filled, Jade put down
her marker and turned to face the room again. "Well, wasn't that
fun?"
The stunned and angry silence of the room was her
answer. "Oh Lord." Jim heard Simon whisper.
"What? Does someone have a problem with
this? I think we've pretty accurately depicted just about every ethnic
and religious group, don't you?"
"No," came one lone voice down front.
"Why not, Ms?"
"Morgan. It's all wrong. That's not
me."
Jim sought out the face to go with the voice. She was
a pretty black girl in the third row. He could see her in profile if he
leaned forward.
"Mr.?" Jade pointed to someone not far away.
"Baker."
Jim nearly fell out of his chair. It was Derrick Baker,
there in Jade's seminar. Granted, attendance was mandatory for everyone,
which was why it was being offered several nights, but Jim was still a little
surprised to see him.
"Mr. Baker, let's see, I believe that you said that
black women were lazy, shoplifting, welfare collecting baby
machines.' And that is a direct quote, right?"
"Yeah." Baker frowned.
"Ms. Morgan, are you saying that you don't fit that
bill?"
"Of course not," she snapped.
"How does that comment make you feel?"
"It hurts and it makes me angry."
"Hey, I think I remember her yelling out some
stuff about other people." Baker pointed out.
"You know, Mr. Baker, I do believe that you are right
about that. Let's see, Ms. Morgan. I think this one was
yours. White men are wife beaters and alcoholics. Most of them are
bigots, too.' Do I have that just about right?"
"Yes, but--"
"And Mr. Baker, how does that make you feel?"
"Why should I care what she thinks?"
"I didn't ask you why you should care, Mr. Baker."
"It pisses me off, okay?"
"Okay." She turned her attention back
to the audience as a whole. "I want each of you now to look over
these charts. Find the one or maybe even two that address your ethnic or
religious background and read it. Open yourself up to the emotions that
the words there evoke. Then look at the person beside you.
Remembering how you feel about the hateful things you see on your chart, find
that person's chart and try to put yourself in his position. Do the
feelings change? Ms. Morgan, if you are hurt by what Mr. Baker said,
don't you think that Mr. Baker could be hurt by what you said?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Do you want to hurt Mr. Baker? Is there a reason
that you should? Does he somehow deserve it just for being white?"
"No ma'am."
"Mr. Baker, I put the same questions to you."
Jim shifted in his seat to get a better view of Derrick
Baker's face and what he saw was astonishing. Doubt.
"Mr. Baker? Does Ms. Morgan deserve to be hurt
because she is black? Do you have a reason to want to hurt her?"
"No."
Jade smiled up at Simon for a split second as the answer
came. "Then why do we do it? And how do we stop it?
Let's look at recovery, shall we?"
Jim sat back in amazement and looked over to his captain to
see the same amazement reflected back at him. "Wow."
"Yeah."
Jade went on to talk about behavior models and how recovery
from a lifetime of being taught stereotypes and prejudice was a process that
may never be totally complete. She told the students that the sad truth
was that if someone was determined to be a bigot, nothing short of a miracle
was going to change his mind, but that did not mean that the rest of the world,
the assembled audience especially, had to simply accept hatred as right.
"The last thought I want to leave you with comes from
the Desiderata. It is this. 'You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars. You have a right to be here.'
Thank you for your attention and good night."
Jim quickly turned his hearing down, just in time to keep
from being deafened by the applause. When he stood, he came face to face
with Derrick Baker. The young man seemed embarrassed and did not seem to
want to meet Jim's eyes. "Baker." Jim greeted him simply.
"I haven't forgotten. I had to come to this thing
tonight so I wasn't there to get any calls. Sorry."
"I understand. This was mandatory, after
all."
"Yeah, well, later, Ellison." He hurried
away.
"Somebody just got his world tilted a little."
Simon remarked softly behind Jim's shoulder.
"Yeah," Jim responded quietly. "Well, I'm
gonna call Blair and see if he's doing okay. If he's ready for company,
I'd like to go back to the hospital. You said you're coming
tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'd say tonight but I don't think I'm going to
get Jade out of here anytime soon." Simon motioned to the huge crowd of
students in the front of the room, totally blocking the little psychologist
from sight. "And if and when I do get her outta here, I'm taking her
to dinner at Natalia's. Is my lady impressive or what?"
Jim grinned. "Very impressive. See you
later, Simon." Jim clapped him on the back and made his way out of
the lecture hall. He pulled out his cell as he went. He wanted to
talk to Blair.
____________________________________________________________
Blair had spent the first half-hour after Jim and his mother
left just staring out the window of his new room. Just after they had
gone, the orderlies had come to get him. He was now settled in room 347,
with its nice view of another wall outside the window. After determining
that the wall was not going to come down from the sheer force of his will, he
turned that will to examining his feelings of panic and pain when Jim had told
him just how close he came to not being here to stare at that wall. If
his living will had not been changed, he would be dead. His mother would
have turned off the ventilator and he would have died. He
shuddered. What had he been thinking when he signed that first
will? Was he really that willing to let go of life? Was his mother
that willing to let go of him?
Now, that was not really fair. He had written the
will. He had determined its contents. His mother would have only
been carrying out his expressed wishes. And the truth was, that when he
had made out that first living will, the contents did express his wishes.
What had changed? Was he stronger and braver now or then? Which
took more courage, living or dying? "Great. Leave it to me to engage
myself in deep philosophical discussions so soon after being in a
coma." He rubbed his temples. He had a headache. Just
what he deserved for such deep thoughts.
Back to the important question. What had changed for
him and when? When did he want to re-write that will. Why did he
want to re-write it? It was after the Golden incident. He
remembered that much. Jim had been upset that the hospital at first would
not talk to him about Blair's condition. They saw his mother's name down
as the contact person and wanted to speak with her. Simon had stepped in
then, so Blair had been told. But Jim did not want that to happen
again. They talked and decided that both of them would change their
emergency contacts. After all, Jim's dad would be useless to Jim and the
hospital if Jim zoned out. Blair would need access to him in that
case. Then the living will came up and before Blair even realized it, he
was changing it too. So what did that tell him? What was the common
theme?
Jim.
Blair never really had anyone before Jim that needed
him. Naomi loved him, but she certainly did not need him. He had
friends but they would recover. Jim needed him. And he needed Jim
too. His letting go days were over. Blair was going to hold onto
life with both hands now. Because Jim Ellison had lost enough people in
his life. Because Jim Ellison needed a guide for his sentinel
senses. Because Jim Ellison deserved to have him stick around.
Blair smiled a bit at that one. It could be taken one of two ways.
But most importantly, because Jim Ellison had given him so much: A home, a
lasting friendship, his trust, and apparently, a reason for living. He
took a moment then to thank whichever supreme being that saw fit to bring Jim
into his life before turning his attention to the other matter weighing heavily
on his mind.
He had been the victim of a hate crime. Kevin Harris
and his fraternity brothers had decided that he deserved to suffer just because
he was Jewish. Tears threatened to fall then and he swallowed hard in an
attempt to remove the lump in his throat. He had always known it was
possible that one day someone would not stop at calling names and pushing him
around like the childhood bullies he had dealt with a few times in his
life. He knew full well that people like Kevin Harris and Derrick Baker
existed. He could even quote texts on
why such people existed, how society even aided and abetted their creation,
etc. None of that made him feel any better though. None of those
facts and theories kept him from shuddering every time he saw a swastika, heard
on the news about Neo-Nazi activity. And certainly none of that lofty
knowledge kept his heart from breaking and his eyes from getting blurry with
tears right now.
The phone rang and he nearly jumped out of his skin.
He quickly wiped his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath before picking up the
receiver. "Hello?"
"Hey, Chief. How are you doing? Just
thought I'd check in with you."
The concerned voice on the other end of the phone was his
undoing. "Ah, Jim--" the words trembled and his voice faltered.
"You need me?"
The sob escaped before Blair even thought to try to stop
it. "Yeah."
"I'm on my way. Be okay till I get there?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry, Jim."
"Nothing to be sorry for, Buddy. Be there
soon."
Blair hung up the phone and turned on the television in the
hopes that he could occupy his mind with other people's problems so that he did
not have to think about his own. It was not to be, however. The
door to his room opened and his mother stood in the doorway. He turned
the television off again and met her eyes. "Hi," he muttered as
he wiped at his eyes again.
"Blair, sweetie, if you're ready to talk, I think we
really need to."
"Jim's on his way back, Mom." He meant to
let her know that they would not have a lot of time to talk but as soon as he
saw the look on her face, he knew he had said the wrong thing.
"Oh? Did he get a call inviting him back?
You'd rather have him here than your own mother?"
"That's not it at all, Naomi. He called to check
on me and I was upset so--"
"Upset about what? I'm your mother. You can
come to me when you're upset." She stepped closer to the bed.
"When you're here, I can."
"I'm here now and still you turn to him!"
"Naomi, just stop it."
"A minute ago, it was Mom. Now it's Naomi.
I think I see where I stand."
"I can't do this with you right now. Maybe you
should go." Blair sighed and let his head fall back on his pillow.
"So he can come in and fix everything? He's done
such a good job of that so far, hasn't he? If he'd done his job, you
wouldn't be here right now. If he'd been taking care of you like he said
he would, you would never have gotten hurt. Why, he can't even catch the
monster that did this to you. And this is the man that you've entrusted
your life to! Blair, you are smarter than this! You don't need Jim
Ellison. I taught you to take care of yourself, not to let people make
you think that you needed them, not to let yourself get bogged down in other
people's lives. You have too much to do out there, in the world, to let
that man put chains on you!"
"Geez, Naomi, I'm not his slave."
"Really? You live in his house, you work his job
with him, you *do* his job for him, cook meals for him, take orders from
him. You probably do his laundry for him. All the while, you are
also trying to do your job and go to school. Sounds like a slave to
me."
Blair shook his head. "You don't
understand."
"Then make me understand."
"I can't. You won't listen and even if you would,
there are confidences that I can't and won't break."
"Try me. I may not be as stupid as you
think."
"Naomi, I like working with Jim and if I could take a
moment to remind you, he took me in when my place burned and let me stay.
I do his laundry but he does mine too. I cook; he cooks. We're
partners, friends, family."
"This is the father thing again, isn't it? He's
not your father."
That hurt and Blair had to take several moments to compose
himself before he could address her again. "I knew you wouldn't get
it. You're right, though. He's not my father. He's my
brother. Think about that for a while, Naomi. Meditate, process,
whatever you need to do, but get this through your head. I choose to be
here. I choose to work with Jim. And I choose Jim as family.
You can either accept that or not but my choice does not change because you
can't accept it. Something else you should know. If you try to
drive him away, I'll never forgive you."
"And it will never work anyway so you needn't try
it." Jim's voice filled the room suddenly.
Naomi stiffened. "I hear that. I think I
need some time alone now."
"I understand," Blair stated simply. Then
she was gone, the breeze in her wake smelling faintly of jasmine.
"Sorry, Chief. I probably didn't help matters
much."
"It's okay. She'll process like she always has
before, longer than before maybe, but she'll eventually get over it."
Jim nodded at him. "Brothers, huh?"
"Yeah," Blair blushed a little. He should
have known that Jim would have heard that. "Do you mind?"
"Not in the slightest. Brotherhood ain't so
bad."
"At least not when you get it right."
Blair's thoughts turned to the fraternity and Jim seemed to know what he was
thinking about right away.
"They don't count, Blair. Hell, they barely
qualify as human in my book."
"Maybe they were human once."
"Maybe, but not now. But I'm not here for them,
I'm here for you. Wanna talk about it?"
"That's my line." Blair smiled and Jim
chuckled.
_________________________________________________________________________
Jim smiled fondly at the sleeping figure in the bed.
He leaned back in his chair after carefully extricating his hand from his
guide's. Blair had literally fallen asleep mid-sentence just minutes
before. They had talked for nearly an hour. They had discussed
everything and Blair had agreed to talk to the department psychologist after
his release. Jim was a little surprised to find that even knowing that
the attack was more a personal thing for Harris than a hate crime did not
really help Blair very much. The depth
of Blair’s trauma made Jim’s heart ache.
Jim had known that hate crime traumatized the victims tremendously and
so expected Blair to be shaken up but he had not known about Blair's previous
experiences with prejudice. Playground bullies were a far cry from what
he had suffered at the hands of Harris and the others but those small scars had
been reopened and added to the wounds inflicted on his friend, his little
brother. *Little brother,* Jim thought with affection and amusement. Who
would have thought he would be not only willing but eager to call this
neo-hippy flower child his little brother? Jim tried to get comfortable
in the chair and had almost succeeded when a roll-away cot appeared next to
him. He looked up at the nurse attached to the cot.
"I figured you weren't leaving so I brought this,"
she explained softly.
"Thanks."
She helped him unfold it and then make it up with the sheets
and blanket she had brought. "You're welcome," she said
then. "I'll bring you back a pillow."
Jim thanked her again and lay down. He did not
remember her returning but the next morning, he woke up hugging a pillow.
When Simon arrived with Mathis and Reese in tow, Jim took
the opportunity to excuse himself to go home and shower, leaving behind his
promise to return as soon as he could. He was halfway to the loft when
the call came.
"Ellison."
"I'm supposed to meet him down at the ferry at noon but
you may want to get your hands on him before then," Derrick Baker told
him.
"Why's that?"
"He said some stuff that makes me think he's going
after your partner again. I'd be at the hospital if I were you."
Jim spun the truck around in the middle of street, prompting
many screeching tires and not a few horns. "Thanks," he
grounded out through his clenched teeth before tossing the phone onto the seat
to concentrate on his driving, only to pick it up again when he realized that
he should warn Simon and call for backup.
_______________________________________________________________________
Naomi Sandburg's tearful eyes burned holes in him as Simon
tried again to reason with the young man that held her captive. Rotten
luck, that was what it was. She was in the wrong place at the wrong
time. A nurse saying hello to her had told Kevin Harris what a valuable
hostage she would be. The only good news was that Harris had never made
it down the hall to Blair's room. Simon had been leaving, Mathis and
Reese right behind him, when he caught sight of Harris. Before he or the
federal agents could respond, however, Naomi was held tightly in Harris's
grasp.
"Son, it's over. Don't make this any worse than
it is. Put down the gun and let her go." Simon's phone rang
then and he handed it back to Reese to answer. He was not even aware of
phone after that until Reese was trying to hand it back to him.
"That was Ellison. He's on his way back,"
Reese whispered.
"How far?"
"Didn't say."
"Damn." Simon turned back to Harris.
He took in the young man's appearance. He was dirty and disheveled.
His eyes had a wild glint in them that Simon had come to associate with the
insane. Harris had gone over the edge. He was going to kill Blair's
mother and then he would try to take them out as well and Simon was at a loss
as to what he could do to stop it. Then things went from bad to worse.
"Simon?" The weak voice behind him could
only have been one person.
"Blair, go back to your room, son. You shouldn't
be on your feet." He blocked Blair's way but not before he got a glimpse
of what was happening.
"Mom?"
Simon closed his eyes and made a decision that he hoped
Blair would forgive him for later. "Mathis, could you get Blair back
into his room?"
"No! Simon, that's my Mom!"
"I know that, son, but I don't want him to get another
shot at you. Let me handle this. Jim's on his way. We'll take
care of it."
"No, Simon!" Blair protested even as Mathis
gently but firmly forced him back down the hall. Orenda met them at the
door of Blair's room and swiftly sedated her struggling patient. Mathis
disappeared into the room and returned moments later without Blair
Sandburg. Orenda Milap shrugged at Simon from the door of the room and
then ducked back inside. Only then did Simon realize that Kevin Harris
was demanding that Blair be turned over to him. He was screaming at Blair
to come back out into the hallway and take his punishment.
_______________________________________________________________________
Jim took the stairs three at a time. When he had
reached Reese instead of Simon, he had known what was happening. His trip
back to the hospital was a blur, his mind only able to focus on his goal: to
get back to Blair. Using the techniques that Blair taught him, Jim
pinpointed Harris's location before he hit the landing on the third floor and
he smiled grimly. Harris would never see him coming. The young man
had set him up so that he could see the elevators. Smart, but not smart
enough. He forgot about the stairs. His back was to the
stairs. Jim barreled through the door and took Harris down before he had
time to react. Of course, Naomi would be a little bruised but she was alive.
It was over quickly, almost too quickly for Jim. He wanted more of a
struggle, some excuse for doing Harris some bodily harm. Simon, Mathis
and Reese swarmed around Jim and his prey. Jim slammed the younger man's
hand against the floor until he released the gun then hauled him up and shoved
him toward the stunned federal agents. Harris was screaming at him,
calling Blair a kike and Jim a kike-lover. Most of the rest of the
ranting was unintelligible but there was something there about brothers.
"Are you all right, Jim?" Simon asked.
"Yeah." Jim stepped over to Harris who was
now cuffed. "You know nothing about brotherhood, you little
bastard." Then he turned to Mathis. "Get that trash outta
here, will you, guys?" he addressed Mathis and Reese.
Mathis nodded solemnly and pulled Harris toward the
elevator. The man was still screaming when the doors closed.
Jim sighed. Simon was helping Naomi up from the floor
and the nurse who had hidden behind the nurse's station came out to look her
over. "Are you okay, Naomi?"
"Yes, I think so. That boy was crazy."
"No kidding." Jim leaned back on the wall behind
him. "You should get Orenda to check you out.
Or...somebody. I know you don't like Orenda."
"I'm sure she's a competent doctor and she took great
care of Blair." She sighed and
looked down at the floor for a moment.
“And Jim, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For taking care of Blair.
I know I’ve been hard on you but without you, he wouldn’t be here right
now. I just need some time to get used
to this.”
Jim stood up straight. "Well, you’re
welcome. He means a lot to me. I only hope that you can get used to
that.” Before it could get awkward
between them, Jim turned to his captain again.
“And now, speaking of Blair, how the hell did you keep him out of this,
Simon?"
"Mathis and Orenda. Mathis took him back to his
room and Orenda sedated him."
"Oh, is he gonna be pissed!" Jim smiled
evilly.
"I know. And I told Mathis to do it so I guess my
name will be Mud for a while."
"You are so screwed." Jim chuckled.
"Thank you, Jim. You are so very helpful."
_____________
EPILOGUE
_____________
"Hello, Jim." Naomi's tone was civil. Just civil, not
friendly but it was better than hostile so Jim smiled and was just as
civil.
"Hello Naomi. Come on in." Jim stepped
back and allowed her to enter the loft and Blair's Welcome Home party.
On the other side of the room, Mark Coley approached his
anthropology teacher with his head down. "Mr. Sandburg?"
"Hi Mark. How's it going?"
"Okay, I guess. With Kev, you know, I'm back at
the dorm and back in my classes."
"Good."
"Listen, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. If I had
said something sooner maybe--"
"It's all right." Blair smiled.
"Look, no doubt you're behind now. I have some time before I can get
back to work but while I'm sitting around, I can help you get caught up."
Simon handed Jade a glass of punch. "Oh!"
she exclaimed. "You'll never guess who called me yesterday."
"Who?"
"Aren't you even going to try to guess?" she
teased.
"Noooooo, who?"
"Derrick Baker." She was solemn again
instantly. "He's not convinced but he's thinking."
"Well, I'll be damned."
"A little different from my response."
"Which was?"
"Damn, I'm good." She shrugged, a
mischievous little smile on her face.
Simon nearly choked on his punch but he could not bring
himself to disagree.
Much later, only Simon, Jade and Naomi remained to help
clean up. Simon and Jade eventually ended up on the couch keeping Blair
company as the three of them watched Jim and Naomi be oh-so-polite to each
other as they worked together to put the finishing touches on the
kitchen. Blair shook his head as his mother and his partner began to argue,
still ever so nicely, over which way the kitchen towel should be folded. "Jade, what am I going to do?
They're going to politely beat each other to death."
"They'll work it out," She assured him.
"Maybe, but what about in the meantime? This
could very well drive me insane."
"I have a suggestion," Simon spoke up.
"Yeah?"
"Run like hell, son. Just run like hell."
"Oh, you are too funny."
"Learning to duck would probably be a good idea,
too." The older man was obviously trying not to laugh out loud.
"You are digging your grave, Banks. You're
already on my list, you know."
But Simon, big manly Simon Banks, was much too busy
snickering and giggling to pay much attention to the threats. The sight of that inevitably caused the
corners of Blair's mouth to twitch until his only recourse, lest he start
laughing too, was to call in the big guns. There was one thing that Jim
and Naomi would and could get together on. Protecting him.
"Mom, Jim! Simon is picking on me!"
The end