by Ihket
“Hey Hairboy!”
“Hey, H.” Blair Sandburg, Doctoral candidate, Teaching fellow, Civilian observer and Guide to one ornery attitude ridden detective cum sentinel Jim Ellison sat down at said sentinel’s desk and distributed the stack of files he had carried up from records on it’s impeccably neat surface. He took some small measure of satisfaction that he had created an instant mess. He was tired, irritated, generally cranky and not above being a little childish where his partner was concerned. Granted Jim was not there to complain about the mess, but still the fact the mess existed made Blair feel a little bit better about the day, or rather the week.
If he weren’t so irritated with Jim at the moment he would be a little more understanding of the fact that Jim was currently residing in detective hell and therefore could not really be blamed for being an overbearing asshole. Even the annoyed part of Blair’s brain understood that. The case they had been working on was going no where, it was high profile, pressure was coming down from the top and Jim being the lead investigator was caught in the middle of that ‘mess’ and since Blair was his ‘partner’ he was in the middle by proxy.
The case? A rash of home invasions that had escalated in violence with each new crime. The victims were random targets, the locations all over the city from the projects to the country club. The first the victims were just bound and blindfolded. The latest victim had been beaten so badly she was unrecognizable. If the perpetrators were not caught soon, someone was going to die. It was a foregone conclusion.
The facts as they knew them were this. Three men and one woman forced their way into the homes. They subdued the owners and proceeded to trash the home. They then either beat or terrorized the victims before leaving. The attacks lasted on average about a half-hour. Neighbors had not been much help. They had some descriptions of vehicles leaving the scenes, but the descriptions never matched up. The descriptions of the vehicles also did not match up with any stolen vehicle reports. They had precious little to go on, and even Jim with all his advantages could not find anything to go on. As a result, Jim had turned into a bear. Blair for his part was not far behind. His temper was short, his patience was extremely limited and his social skills were nil.
Blair sighed heavily and opened the first file. Case number one, the Adams family. He almost laughed, almost but not quite. A mother and her three children were home watching a video when the invasion occurred. All three were bound and blindfolded. All three were terrified. They tied up a four-year-old child. They told the mother they were going to kill her children. They tied up a four-year-old child. The image was stuck in Blair’s mind as the words rolled over and again. From there it had just become worse. Jim reminded Blair of that on a regular basis. The girl wasn’t hurt. Not physically Blair amended, but she had been just as much of a victim as anyone else. Jim didn’t see it that way, he didn’t see it at all. He had checked his emotions and no longer cared.
That wasn’t fair and Blair regretted the thought. None of this was fair, but since when was life… he left the thought where it was, tired and cliched. Jim was right about one thing, sitting at the desk stewing about the condition of their lives had taken him exactly no where. His focus was for shit and he knew it. If he couldn’t let it go and work on the task at hand he had no business being there. He ran his hands through his hair and took a breath. He could let this go, like it or not Jim did need his help. Jim was loathe to really admit that, he still had some serious dependence issues, but the fact remained he did need for Blair to be there and be able to focus. With his irritation fading Blair allowed himself to accept that it wasn’t too much to ask. Jim needed him to do what he did best, to help. Whether helping meant just listening to Jim blow off steam or to look at the picture before them with a fresh set of eyes. It did not, however make Blair the official whipping boy of Jim Ellison. They definitely had a few things between them that needed some resolution. Jim wasn’t an Ogre, but he had come close on occasion during the last few weeks and Blair had a niggling worry that Jim could loose control.
Blair didn’t think for a minute that Jim would physically lash out at him. It had happened a couple of times, but being lifted by the shirt collar and backed into a wall was not something he considered particularly threatening. Jim had been completely out of line, but Blair knew he could defend himself. Ex covert ops or not, Blair doubted Jim ever had to go toe to toe with the school bully. Jim probably had been the bully at one time. Not now though, Jim was no bully and Blair knew when and how to push back.
Blair absently tapped his pen against his forehead as he continued to read the files. He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he reached the fourth file, the Davidson case. The only pattern they could see was the invasions were done in alphabetical order. Now the perps were back to B, which helped them not. In a city the size of Cascade there were thousands of people with surnames beginning with B. It was hopeless. He closed the file and pushed himself out of the chair. Caffeine, he needed some badly. Caffeine and sleep. The caffeine cancelled out the sleep and since the caffeine was closer the choice was made. He shuffled wearily to the break room and to sacred coffee maker.
“Hey Jim!”
“Hey H.” Jim looked at the files spread out across his desk and sighed. Blair was around here somewhere. It was a universal constant, anywhere Sandburg was the “cyclone effect” was sure to follow. He turned to Brown and saw the detective working in his own controlled chaos. “So where is he?”
“In the break room I think. He probably fell asleep over the coffee
grounds. He looks like shit man, so do you for that matter. You need to
get some rest.”
“I’ll take that into consideration, Sandburg is a big boy he can take
care of himself, Brown. He knows his limits and I know mine, okay? Jim
said sharply, turning on his heel and heading to the break room. Henri
just shook and went back to his own personal mess.
Jim stopped in the hall outside the break room making a conscious effort to unclench his jaw. He shook his head. He’d been unnecessarily rude to Brown and he knew it. Hell he’d pretty much been a bastard to everyone of late. He regretted his attitude, but he found it nearly impossible to go on pretending this case didn’t disturb the hell out of him. Sublimating his feelings wasn’t as easy anymore and the last victim had nearly sent him sailing right over the edge of his control. The image of the young woman’s swollen, distorted face was seared into his mind. He knew he’d seen worse, but something about the girl had torn him up inside. The only words he heard her say and the anguish in her cries haunted him. “Help me.” He hadn’t helped her, not in a way that counted. He hadn’t helped any of them and soon someone was going to die because he couldn’t help.
He leaned against the wall and let himself slide to a sitting position on the floor. He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes. Jim wanted it all to go away. He wanted the responsibility of being a cop gone, he wanted being a sentinel gone, he wanted it all gone. Of course what he wanted and what would actually happen were two totally different things. He was exhausted, his bones had a deep ache to them and his heart was heavy. He rarely doubted himself. He was a damn good cop, with out without his sentinel abilities. His frustration with this case clouded him. Three months of this and no leads. It was just a matter of time before they struck again. They still hadn’t had the ultimate experience yet, they hadn’t killed anyone. Once they did he knew there would be many victims, once they tasted the kill they would need it, like a drug. Once they killed, they would continue killing until they were caught or killed themselves.
Jim Ellison prayed for a miracle, he prayed they would catch them before it went that far. The odds were against any miracles happening in Cascade in the near future. Sometime soon a family would be burying loved ones. All because he couldn’t help. He was shaken from his thoughts by a cup of coffee thrust under his nose. “Thanks” he mumbled.
“No problem.” Blair answered as he took a spot on the floor next to his partner.
Jim sipped his coffee for a moment relishing its momentary warmth. A respite from the cold dread gripping his heart. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “How did you know I needed this?”
Blair chuckled mirthlessly. “If you feel half as bad as I do you need about twelve of these man.”
Jim nodded and they sat in silence for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he finally said.
“Me too, Jim.” Blair sighed. “Face it, neither of us is at our best right now. So we’re going to growl and snap and dig lines in the dirt until we solve this thing.”
“Do we get to mud wrestle too?” Jim’s smile grew a little.
Blair threw a surprised look at him. “You are so weird, man.”
“Pot calling kettle, chief.” Jim levered himself up from the floor. “Come on, let’s get back to it.”
Blair nodded grimly and got up as well, all traces of humor had fled his face as they headed for the bullpen. He wasn’t holding out much hope, but maybe things would look different or maybe they would pick up on something they had overlooked. “Maybe it will snow in hell,” he thought darkly.
Chapter two
“You think he’ll watch us for this one?” Ryan Parker pushed stringy black hair out of his eyes as he drove. Sparing a glance at his passenger, sparing more than a glance as his eyes traveled to her buxom chest.
“I don’t know, I don’t know what he is waiting for.” The girl said shortly, her hard hazel eyes flashing with momentary anger. “He keeps asking us for more, but he hasn’t watched yet. How does he know what we do?”
“Dunno.” Ryan turned the corner on to Prospect. “Maybe he’s a cop?”
Amanda Connelly shook her head. “What kind of cop would be this sick?”
“Dunno, but it makes sense. How else would he know what we’re doing when he’s not there to watch?”
“I don’t even want to think about it.” She tapped her fingers against the dashboard of the Chevy Blazer. “He pays us too do what we do and at least Brian gets a charge out of it.”
Ryan smiled coolly. “He’s not the only one. You were something else after that girl the other night. You left marks on me!”
Amanda glared at him and then offered up her own feral smile. “What can I say, there is just something about broken bones and blood.”
Ryan had to swerve to miss a parked car as she grabbed his crotch. “Damn,
woman you want us to draw attention to our selves?”
Amanda dismissed him. “What are we going to do about Derek?”
“What do you mean?” He frowned, knowing what was coming and dreading the subject.
“He’s loosing his nerve.” She snapped.” And you know what I mean so don’t play dumb. He’s cracking and he’s going to bring us all down. He needs to be cut loose.”
“No!” Ryan said adamantly. “He’s fine, look I will talk to him. I’ll make him understand what’s at stake here! But do not ask me to kill my brother!”
Amanda laughed at him. “Here I thought you were as cold as they came. Brother or not baby, he becomes a liability to us and he goes the way of the dodo!” She nodded as they drove past a small apartment building. “This the place?”
Ryan double-checked the address. “Yep. Apartment 205.”
“Apartments are risky, people could hear.”
“Not if we do it right. No breaking down the door this time. There are windows along the fire escape….we go in that way. Very quietly.”
Amanda just grunted at him. “What time?”
“Nine O’clock.”
“Then we’ve got time for a few other activities before we need to be ready.”
“I need to be able to walk baby!”
“No you need to be able to crawl.” She chuckled wickedly.
ooooooooooooooooooo
Derek Parker paced the confines of his small apartment. He was a dead man and he knew it. There was no way he could continue to be a part of the things his brother was doing. Yet, he couldn’t leave the circle alive. He was a dead man, his own brother was going to kill him and that bitch Amanda would watch and then they would fuck each other until they bled, more than likely with his cooling body still in the room.
How had he become apart of this? Damn, he was small time, but this shit was getting serious. That girl, they had nearly killed her and he knew her face would never be the same. She had begged them to stop, and then she had begged them to kill her. He could still hear his brother’s words to the bleeding woman shuddering, choking and sobbing on the floor. “You’re not worth killing.”
Damn him, damn them all and damn himself for being so weak willed that he couldn’t say no to this insanity. Now it was too late to say no, he was stuck in the circle for as long as they chose to keep him alive. He knew only one thing for certain, he wasn’t going to go without a fight and a few surprises for the people who killed him.
Derek sat at his computer and began typing am email to one Detective James Ellison of the Cascade PD. He wasn’t going to hand the cop his brother and gang, Ellison would have to work for it. Derek despised the cops almost as much as he now despised his brother, so it would not be easy. He almost hoped Ellison figured it out before Derek was killed. He didn’t think it was likely though.
It would be easy to give it all to him, and some moth-riddled part of his conscience told him that was what he should do. He of course ignored it, this world had done nothing for him. His soul had long ago been eaten away by the hate he lived with everyday and he honestly didn’t mind. He made no mistake in his motivation for sending the emails to Ellison. It was out of hate for his brother and no more. He was not plagued with any sense of civic duty, he just wanted them to pay. As many as possible to pay. He just wouldn’t be the one raising his hand to do it. No one was going to pay by his hand. He almost laughed, he wouldn’t kill anyone. He’d done just about every other unspeakable act he could imagine, but he had no ones blood on his hands. Not even the blood of that girl. He never touched her, but he was there. That was as close as he ever wanted to come.
He sent the email to Ellison and then shut down his computer and waited for his brother.
Chapter three
Blair opened the door to the loft, locked the door behind him, threw his keys in the basket and stood in the darkened apartment for a moment wondering what to do now that he was home. He felt like he hadn’t seen this place in weeks and there was a small part of him that resented being here now. Though that part of him was being overrun by the parts of him that were screaming for a break. Evidently Jim had heard those parts of him and with Simon’s help had thrown him out of the station. Their reasoning for such an action was weak at best, but Blair had lacked the energy to fight the Simon/Jim blockade.
He had pretty much fumed all the way home. He was not some child that had to be looked after, he was an adult! A grown man who was capable of pulling his weight thank you very much! Jim was every bit as worn out as he was and he could stay. Blair brought his head up sharply at the thought, He was whining in his head. He was whining like a child in his head! He almost laughed, he really did need a break. He knew it was bad when he resented a random act of kindness from his friends.
First he needed a shower, he felt in a word ‘gross’. He stripped off his shirt as he made his way to the bathroom, taking a moment to toss it onto his bed before he grabbed a towel from the linen closet. Closing the bathroom door he finished undressing, tired, and stressed muscles protesting his every movement. Spending a year under the shower sounded like heaven, but he was fairly certain the hot water would only hold out for about thirty minutes. He would take what he could get.
He let the hot water pound on his head, shoulders and back. For a few all to brief moments he felt like he was in paradise, the cares of his world just washed away. He knew better, the cares were waiting him outside the door like wolves. He finished his shower and dried off, slipping into a comfortable pair of sweats and a light tee shirt. The loft was hot, so he opened the window in his room to let the cool evening breeze float in. He could hear soft strains of the Violin coming from the apartment below. He smiled, Mrs. Buchard was playing again. He lay on his bed and listened to the old woman play a soothing melody. Soon he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
oooooooooooooooooooooo
Jim logged on to his computer to check his messages. It had been several days since he had last checked and he needed to clean out his inbox. Most of his mail was useless as far as he was concerned. A few inter departmental memos, the usual dreck from the bureaucrats all of it a waste of time as far as he was concerned. One subject header caught his eye immediately. It simply read HOME INVADER. He clicked open the message and read. 852 Prospect 205 9pm WA 10-4598.
“Shit!” Jim swore as he looked at the clock. It was 8:56. “Shit! SHIT! Simon! Get everything you can to my building. They’re there!”
Simon was on the phone before Jim was out of the Bullpen. He hoped to God this wasn’t a hoax, he hoped to God they got there in time.
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Blair woke with a start. He looked over at his alarm clock, 8:57 it read. Damn he’s been asleep for over three hours. He had not wanted to sleep that long, he still had a lot of work to do and he had to get back to the station. He had pushed himself up from his bed when he heard voices coming from below speaking in hushed tones. He peeked his head out his window and barely stifled a gasp as he saw four Black clad figures in ski masks on the fire escape. One of them was jimmying the lock on the window below him. Just as he was backing out of the window the phone rang startling him. He jerked his head back sharply into the window frame a loud curse from below matched his expletive as he stumbled backward. He heard one of the shout “Get him!” and he bolted from his room. His own clutter was his undoing as he tripped over the discarded towel on his floor crashing bodily into the French doors of his bedroom. The glass panes shattered as the door swung open and into the wall behind it.
Blair cried out in surprise and pain as he fell landing on top of the jagged shards. He pulled himself off the floor, but he was out of time. One of the perps was already through his window, Blair turned and ran with a curse but it was too little too late. As he reached the living room the perp caught him in a tackle. The air left his lungs in a rush as he was forced into the unforgiving hardwood floor with the man in black landing on top of him. He was roughly flipped on his back, pinned to the floor by his assailant.
“I hate nosey neighbors!” the man spat at him, then pulled a serrated hunting knife from a sheath on his belt.
Blair went wild beneath the larger man bucking and throwing his attacker off balance. He scooted backward as the man lunged for him. Blair lashed out with his leg knocking the knife from the man’s hand. His attacker caught his leg and gave it a viscous twist and lunged atop Blair again. Blair cried out, but his anger over rode his pain and he brought clasped hands upward into his attackers chin. The man fell backwards off of him and Blair scrambled to his feet, pain screamed up his right leg as he put his weight on it but he pressed through it and was a hands length from the door when his feet few out from under him. He landed face first, his forehead smacking on the floor. Pain flared through his skull, bright prisms of light danced through an ever expanding whirlpool of darkness.
The attacker took the opportunity to reclaim his knife; he flipped the barely conscious man onto his back and prepared for the kill. It was at that moment his cell phone rang. He cursed as he lay his knife to his side and answered, he wrapped the other hand around his victim’s throat and began to choke the life out of him as he spoke calmly to the person on the other end. It was their employer.
“The cops are on their way. Get out now!” the voiced hissed.
“How long?” He asked, smiling as he felt the body beneath him struggling.
“Three minutes.”
“Long enough.”
“I said get out of there now!” The shouted order was followed by a click.
“Damn, I guess I will have to do this the quick way then.” He maintained his grip around his victim’s throat and put away his cell phone, pleased to see the man’s lips were turning blue. He still did not have the luxury of time and there fore would not be able to watch as the light went out in those pretty blue eyes. He released his hold and the body beneath him convulsed as it took in great heaving gulps of oxygen. He just shook his head and picked up his knife. The man’s hands went up toward his face as the knife plunged downward in his surprise he drove the knife deeply into the mans shoulder as he was unmasked. He swore as wide blue eyes took in his face and swore again as he heard the approaching sirens. He gave the knife a viscous twist before he rose from the man and fled the way he came.
Blair lay on the floor, gasping in pain. Agony radiated through his throat and shoulder with every tortured breath. He heard the sirens, he knew help was on the way, he just had to hold on a little longer. He’d seen one of them, he’d seen one of them and lived.
Oh, God he hurt! Where were they? He could hear them below and he could hear more sirens in the distance. Where were they? It struck him then that the loft hadn’t been the intended target, but it wouldn’t matter, how could they know where to look? How did they know at all, unless a neighbor called about the noise and if so why weren’t they there helping him? He could bleed to death waiting for them. He could bleed to death. That singular thought sent him into a panic and he tried to get up off the floor. A hoarse scream was torn from him as he moved the pain that had been overwhelming flared into an all-encompassing hellish agony sending him headlong into the patient void.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Jim looked at the open empty apartment, no one was there and nothing had been disturbed. He shook his head and put a lid on his frustration. The door had been wide open when they had arrived, but there had been no sign of a struggle, nothing to indicate any invasion.
“Detective Ellison…the lock on the window of the spare room is broken and the window is open.” One of the uniforms said.
Jim nodded grimly wondering if the perps had fled alone or if they had taken the old woman with them. “Lets start checking the neighbors, maybe Mrs. Buchard heard the noise and went to one of them.”
“Jim.” Simon came up behind him. “Dispatch got a call of a B&E from 207.”
They left the apartment without a word. Jim rapped on the door of apartment 207 and waited.
“Who’s there?” A sharp male voice answered.
“Detective Ellison, cascade PD.”
“Oh, let them in, let them in.” A second heavily accented voice came from behind the door.
The door opened and an elderly woman pushed her way forward. “Oh Detective Ellison thank God!” She exclaimed. “I was in my kitchen and I heard a noise coming from Joseph’s den and then I heard voices from outside the window. I think upstairs someone saw because one of them said, “Get him!” and I was on my way out my door when I heard this terrible crash up stairs. I think-.”
The old lady was cut off by the sound of an agonized scream. Mrs. Buchard
watched as they detective rushed up the stairs. She stood in stunned silence,
trembling as Mr. Jaonvich wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Seconds later
they all heard Jim yelling for a paramedic.
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Blood, there was so much blood. Blair was covered in it. It pooled beneath his shoulder, stained his side and oozed into his hair. “I need a paramedic!” Jim screamed through the open door. He knew Blair was alive. His body spasmed intermittently and his rapid breaths were clearly audible. He rushed to the bathroom and grabbed a towel; he came back kneeling beside Blair. Jim did what he could to staunch the flow of blood coming from around the knife protruding grotesquely from Blair’s shoulder. Blair’s body spasmed again and his eyes flew open. “Easy buddy, I got you. Help is on the way.” Jim spoke gently to him.
Blair shook his head slightly and raised his good arm slightly. It was then that Jim noticed the black ski mask Blair held in a death grip. “S-saw h-i-m.” Blair said breathlessly.
“That’s good, partner. Good work.” Jim choked out as Blair’s glassy eyes lost their focus. “Just hang in there, stay with me okay?” His eyes closed and Jim’s heart went into his throat. “Stay with me, Blair! Come on partner, just stay with me!”
“Mmm here Jim.” Blair’s voice was so soft Jim almost couldn’t hear it.
“Okay, pal. Just keep with me.” Jim gently pried the ski mask out of Blair’s grasp and took the cold hand into his own.
A moment later Jim was displaced by a team of paramedics. They worked rapidly to get Blair ready for transport. Jim backed into the hallway and into Simon. The Captain looked past Jim to Blair who was being loaded on a stretcher and swore. Jim merely nodded. “I need an evidence bag.” He said as he held up the mask. “Blair saw one of them.” They stepped back as the paramedics came through with the stretcher carrying the pale and bloody Sandburg. They followed it down, Jim handing of the mask to one of the forensics team with a brief explanation. Simon led Jim to his car and they followed the flashing lights and screaming wail of the siren to the hospital.
Chapter Four
“Hey Jim, any word?” Detective Rafe sat next to Jim in the waiting room, clutching the handle of an overnight bag.
Jim shook his head. “Nothing yet. Simon send you?”
Rafe smiled. “Yep. One he thought you needed a change of clothes.” He handed the bag to Jim. “And two he thought with me here you’d be less likely to annoy the staff.”
“Thanks, on both counts.” He shook his head again. “It says something that we’ve done this enough that Simon knows my habits.”
Rafe sat in silence for a minute before speaking. “Reconsidering Sandburg?” At Jim’s nod it was Rafe’s turn to shake his head. “For an intelligent man you are extremely thick headed.” Jim shot him a warning look but the younger detective pressed on. “I know what I am about to say is not going to be a shocking revelation, but you need to hear it. He’s where he wants to be. He would have bailed a long time ago if he weren’t.” Jim opened his mouth to argue but Rafe cut him off. “I am talking you are listening, got it?” Jim nodded. “We live in a dangerous city, we have dangerous jobs and we have all been with our partners where you are now, we’ve all done it more than once. Jim, you are not the only one who wonders if the risk is worth it. After I was shot, Henri spent two weeks trying to convince me I would be better off as an insurance salesman. Good money less risk. I never even considered it, but I did learn something.”
“What was that?”
“Our partners become our family, and we would do anything to protect them. It’s the nature of the beast, Jim. The hard facts are sometimes we can’t protect them. Henri couldn’t protect me, and when Henri was hit and run by a suspect I couldn’t protect him either, and don’t for one minute think that I didn’t give serious thought to Henri being an insurance salesman!”
“You do have a point right?”
“Shut up, Jim. Yes I have a point. Sandburg is a civilian, Sandburg
was a civilian tonight, one who happened to be in the wrong place at the
wrong time, but the right place for Mrs. Buchard. A civilian, Blair Sandburg
interrupted a home invasion in progress and gave that old lady enough time
to get out of the apartment. He paid for it, but he didn’t act as your
partner. He was a citizen.
When he’s been hurt because he was acting as your partner, it’s still
not that much different Jim. He’s a grown up, he made his choice to be
here. Don’t you think it’s up to him to decide when it’s enough?”
Jim sighed, “Yes he’s all grown up. He’s intelligent and resourceful too. It still doesn’t change the fact that this shit shouldn't happen to him. It shouldn’t happen to any one! And if there was a way to…to talk him out of this insanity, I would give it everything I had to keep him safe!”
“I would be surprised if you didn’t.” Rafe clasped the older detective on the shoulder. “You can be fairly certain that he will listen to you calmly and still do what ever the hell he wants to do anyway. He has a fierce loyalty to you, the same one you have to him. Even with the two of you biting at each other all the time lately, the fact is when it comes right down to it when one of you is threatened the other turns into a she bear. For the rest of us that is pretty fucking intimidating and awe inspiring.”
Jim quirked an eyebrow “She bear?”
“It’s the best I could do on the fly Ellison.” Rafe shot him a look. “I know you understand exactly what I mean Momma bear so I am not going to clarify.”
Jim smiled, it was brief but it was a genuine smile. “Thanks Rafe. One thing though?”
“What?”
“When did you start talking so much?”
Rafe smacked Jim on the arm good-naturedly. “Go change your clothes Jim, you’re scaring people.”
When Jim came back freshly changed, he saw Rafe standing at the admitting desk talking to a blank looking nurse. She finally shrugged and went back to what ever she was doing before being interrupted. Rafe came back to the chair and sat down heavily.
Jim’s mouth quirked upward in a grin. “Annoying the staff?”
Rafe sighed. “It was worth a shot.”
An hour later they finally received an update. A short graying bespectacled Doctor came out to talk to them. “You’re here for Blair Sandburg?”
Jim stood, “Yes, how is he?”
The Doctor’s eyes were bright with kindness and good humor as he spoke, “If I had a dime…The good news is that Mr. Sandburg will recover.” He became more serious as he continued. “It will take some time though, especially with the damage to his shoulder. It’s pretty extensive and he’s being taken to surgery now to repair as much of the damage as they can. If the surgery goes well I don’t see any permanent effects from the wound.”
Jim’s gut clenched in apprehension. “If it doesn’t go well.”
“ I doubt you’ll take “don’t borrow trouble” as an answer detective. Worst case he will have a severe reduction in mobility of that arm. Regardless he will need extensive physical therapy. That’s the worst of it right there. He lost a lot of blood, we needed to replace as much as we could and keep him stable before surgery. That is looking good right now. He had torn and hyper extended ligaments and tendons in his right knee and 60 odd stitches in his side and back. We had to dig some glass out of him, but the wounds cleaned up nicely and he’ll be on antibiotics from the surgery so I am not overly concerned about infection. Beyond that he has a slight concussion and a lot of bruises, including some on his neck. There is some minor swelling around his trachea, but it’s not interfering with his breathing. I know it sounds like a lot, and truthfully it is. But with time he’s going to recover from those injuries and we just have to wait and see how the surgery goes on his shoulder”
“How long will the surgery take?”
The doctor sighed. “Judging from the amount of visible damage we could see and the delicacy of the procedure at the very least four hours. If there is more extensive damage deeper into the wound it could take longer. My advice is to go home, sleep and come back in the morning. He’s going to need some friendly faces when he wakes up, even with medication he’ll be in a good amount of pain. Having friends around will help keep his mind off that while he’s awake.”
Jim smiled at the doctor. “That’s a switch from what we usually hear.”
“I never understood visiting hours.” He shook his head. “Patients do much better with friends and family around, just don’t get him agitated. Not that I think Mr. Sandburg will be capable of agitation for a few days. He’ll be on a fair number of drugs for a day or two and the pain medication in particular will make him want to sleep a lot. Having someone familiar nearby will just make it all easier on him.”
“Understood, I think we can manage that.”
“Good, I will have someone call when he is out of surgery, but I don’t want to see you back here until after eight. He’ll be out at least that long if not longer. If anything changes over night someone will call as well. He’s in good hands detective.”
“I know, but you will understand the need for an officer to be near at all times. Blair is an eyewitness in an ongoing investigation and there for will have round the clock protection.” Jim replied evenly.
The Doctor nodded, “That I understand Detective. Now please get out of my hospital!” He finished with a kind smile.
“Thank you.”
Chapter Five
Jim sat heavily on his bed. The days events weight hard on his heart. He could smell the blood still drying on the floor below him. There was so much of it and he didn’t have it in him to clean it at that point. Rafe had offered to stay and help him, but he waved the younger man off telling him he would take care of it later. The bloody towel still lay on the floor by the front and Jim had noticed for the first time the smears of blood coming from The hallway infront of Blair’s room to the living room. There was just so much damn blood.
He toyed with the idea of going to a motel for the night, but he needed to be reachable. Well he was reachable, alone in hell and very reachable. He didn’t want to be alone. Jim shook his head. “I don’t want to be alone, since when?” he said aloud. “Since you found out you actually liked people.” He answered morosely. True he was still a solitary man, he liked to be alone with his thoughts but not these thoughts. He wanted these thoughts to be taken away, he wanted the blood on his floor to disappear, he wanted Sandburg asleep in his room below and not on some surgeons table. Most of all what he wanted was something he could not have. He wanted the sick bastards responsible to suffer like their victims suffered and then he wanted them dead. It was so simple, but the law would prevent true justice from being served.
The thought brought him up short. He realized he would not longer be working on this case as a detective but as an avenger. That meant one thing, he couldn’t continue to work the case at all. It wouldn’t be about upholding the law it would be about avenging Sandburg and avenging all the others. He put his head in his hands and wondered not for the first time if this life was worth it. Was he really making a difference to anyone, with or without his abilities, what good was it if he couldn’t prevent the harm from being done? What good was he as a protector if he couldn’t protect?
It was a mess, everything was a mess a hopeless tangle of events, reasons, pains, words, thoughts and feelings. It was chaos, he was chaos. Jim was so caught up in his doubt he didn’t hear the soft knocking at the door at first. He sat on his bed hopping who ever it was would go away. The knocking became more persistent and he gave up trying to wait whoever it was out and headed down to answer the door. He was surprised to see Emma Callahan standing at the door, in torn, paint stained blue jeans and an equally ratty sweatshirt holding a bucket filled with cleaning supplies.
“What are you doing here?” he asked annoyance building within him.
“Detective Rafe called me.” She answered simply.
“Why?”
The woman looked him dead in the eye and answered him evenly. “Because I’m a girl and chances are you’re less likely to throw me out on my ear.’
“He was wrong!” Jim snapped but made no move to close the door.
Emma tilted her head slightly still pinning him with her eyes. “Was he?”
Jim paused for a moment, trying his most intimidating stare, she didn’t flinch and he suspected Blair had been giving away his secrets. He finally lowered his head and said, “No he wasn’t.” He stepped back and ushered Emma in. He was aware of the artists reaction to the amount of blood in the loft, but admirably the only outward sign she gave that it disturbed her was the significant paling of her face.
He followed her with his eyes as she set the bucket down on the kitchen counter and turned to him. “Come here.” She commanded.
Jim sighed. “You’re going to hug me aren’t you?” She just nodded and fixed him with a brief half grin. He crossed over to her and let her wrap her arms around him. He was somewhat surprised to find himself returning the embrace. He had needed this. “Thank you.”
She pulled back from him again to look at his face. “You’re welcome, now tell me what you need?”
“For none of this to have happened.” Jim answered without defense.
Sadness filled her eyes as she looked at him. “I wish I could do that, I really wish I could. Best I can do is just be here and help.” She broke away from him standing back a step and put her hands on her hips. “First thing that I can see you need is a shower my friend. While you do that I will get to work out here.”
“I am not letting you do this by yourself.” Jim argued as he moved toward the counter.
Emma put her hand on his chest. “I’m not letting you do this at all.” She paused. “Jim, let me-do this-for you…please.”
He didn’t want to clean up Blair’s blood, he couldn’t really stand the thought of it. At the same time he didn’t want Blair’s friend doing it either, but she was there and she was determined. He gave in to her offer and her kindness, reaching out and giving her shoulder a slight squeeze he nodded. “Thank you.”
She smiled at him and made a shooing motion toward the bathroom. Jim obeyed. Even though he had changed his clothes he still had blood on his legs, underneath his fingernails and in between his fingers. He could still smell it, taste it on him and there was a pain associated with the blood that he just wanted to wash away.
He stripped down and turned the shower on as hot as he could take it. He scrubbed in time with the woman he could hear in his living room. He tuned into her, ready to help if it became too much, he heard her breath catch, but she continued scrubbing. Jim ached inside, he knew how hard it was for her doing what she was doing for him. She pressed on and he admired her more. He heard her muttered curses and stifled sobs, but she continued scrubbing and he continued scrubbing, synchronized, hoping to wash away the evidence of a friends fate.
The water raining on him began to cool and he shut off the faucet. He was as clean as he was going to get. The memories were still there and the phantom pain clung to him like oil. He toweled off when he realized he had brought no clothes in with him, save for the ones he was wearing earlier. He couldn’t stomach putting those back on. There was blood on the inside. “crap” he muttered. He wrapped the towel around his middle and peeked his head out the door. “Uh, Emma?”
Emma looked up from her task. “Do you need something?” she asked as she started to rise.
“No no!” Jim stated quickly. “I uh forgot to uh bring clothes.”
Emma made a sound that was part laugh and part sob. “I’ll close my eyes Jim, go ahead.”
“Thanks.” Jim scooted out of the bathroom trying to keep his backside that the towel didn’t quite cover to the wall as he made his way up the stairs. Still feeling embarrassed even though Emma’s eyes were clearly closed. Once he had made it to the safety of his room he called down to her that she could open her eyes. He heard a light chuckle from below followed by a soft “Okay, Jim.”
Jim dressed quickly in sweats and a sweat shirt and went back down stairs. Emma had cleaned the blood infront of the door and was working on the smaller stains in the hall. “Emma time for a break huh?”
“No that’s okay, I’m fine.” Her voice was strained and higher in pitch. Jim could see the stiff set of her shoulders and the minute trembling in her arms as she worked.
“Emma.”
“Okay.” She rose shakily to her feet. “Let me dump this and I’ll take a break.” She picked up the bucket and headed for the door.
“Where are you-?”
“I am taking it to the storm drain.”
“You can dump it-.”
“No Jim!” her voice rose sharply and wavered. “It has to go away. It has to leave, Okay!”
Jim nodded. “Okay.” He said gently. He followed her with his hearing to the street. His heart ached as he heard her break down, as he heard the soul deep sobs coming from the street below. He realized that she was not coming back up soon, so he went to her.
She looked up at him as he opened the outer door. “I’m sorry!” She cried.
He waked over to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders as she wept. “It’s okay.” He felt Emma nod into his chest and he just held on. Her sobs quieted as they stood on the sidewalk.
“This is not the paragon of strength and composure I was hoping to be.” Emma said miserably.
“Don’t worry about that.”
“There was just so much of it…God! I’m sorry, Jim. I’m okay.” She tried to push away.
“No you’re not.” Jim said as he pulled her to him again. “So let’s just stay here for a bit, huh?” She nodded again and they stood arms around each other for long minutes.
Emma finally pulled away.” I am almost done up there. I need to finish it.”
“Then let’s finish it.”
“Jim-.”
“No Emma, let’s finish it.”
It didn’t take long to clean the rest of it up, bag the bloody towel, the rags, the bucket, the scrub brushes and take them to the dumpster. They both stood in the middle of the loft looking around. Aside from the broken glass panes in the french door, there was no sign of the violence that had taken place hours earlier. Jim knew if he looked close enough he could still see blood in the crevices of the floor, but he refused to do so. There was no point. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Emma smiled briefly at him. “Do you think I could take a shower?”
“Go ahead, you have clean clothes?”
Emma put her head in her hands and shook it. “No.”
“I have it covered.” Jim patted her back. “Be right back”
“Thanks.”
Coming back down stairs he handed a pair of sweats and sweatshirt to Emma. “You know where the towels are?”
“Uh, yeah and thanks again.”
He went to the kitchen as soon as he heard the door close. He opened the cupboards looking for tea. Blair had said something about Emma liking tea. “But what Kind?” he asked himself as he dug through Blair’s tea stash. Was it Chamomile or was it echinecea, or was that for colds? He sighed and put the tea back. He went to the fridge and pulled out two beers, everyone liked Beer right?
As he opened the beers the phone rang, he answered with no small amount of apprehension knowing it was the hospital. Dr. Michaelson’s voice rang clear on the other end as he told Jim the surgery went well and that Blair was stable. It was all Jim needed to hear. No further complications, Blair was okay, Jim’s world still held.
Several minutes later, Emma emerged from the bathroom toweling off her hair. Jim Hid a smile at her appearance. She swam in the sweatshirt and had rolled up the legs of the sweats to keep from tripping on them. She removed the towel from her head and her short hair was standing straight up in places. She looked at him and her lips curved upward in a half smile. “Thank you for not laughing.”
“The hospital called while you were in the shower, Blair is out of surgery and doing well.”
Emma’s face lit with a weary but genuine smile. “That’s terrific!”
Jim nodded smiling as well and then held out a beer for the young woman. “You look like you could use this.”
“Yes, thank you!” Jim handed her the beer and headed to the living room, both sat in relative silence for a time. Jim mused on the woman in his home, she was still a relative mystery to him. What he knew about her he knew from Blair, though he had learned a few more facts tonight on his own. He’d known she was artistic to the core and that there was precious little she would not do for Blair. His partner and this woman had been friends since their undergrad days. Their unique personalities and world views making them instant buddies in a uniform society. He could see them amidst those who wanted to rebel and those who wanted to be a part of the crowd creating their own niche and existing where ever the hell they wanted to exist. She was a gentle soul with a passionate temper, something of a contradiction but something Jim had come to appreciate not all that long ago. Tonight she was a bringer of peace and order. Something Jim desperately needed amidst the backdrop of chaos that had become his home. He looked at her sitting on the loveseat, legs curled underneath her, blatantly breaking house rule number three, not that he found himself caring much about the damned house rules. He had long since given up housebreaking Sandburg.
He stared at her, as she nursed her beer, watching her as she wandered her own world within and he felt the need to know what she was thinking as a frown crossed her face. He didn’t need to ask as she chose that time to speak.
“You need to catch them, Jim.” She said quietly. She had an edge of anger in her voice. “He’s the best friend I have ever had, you’re the best friend he’s ever had, but,” she paused and Jim could see she was searching for words, finally she sighed. “You need to catch them before this happens to someone else. People are scared, hell I am scared.” She stopped again and shook her head. “You are a phenomenal cop, Jim. I know you’re doing your best, you all are. Shit, I’m not saying anything you don’t already know.”
“I understand.”
“I’m glad one of us does.” Jim nodded and the fell quiet for a few moments when Emma asked, “What time is it?”
“Four-thirty.”
“I take it sleep for you is out of the question?”
Jim nodded slowly. “Not really tired.”
“Liar.” At Jim’s sigh she forestalled the argument. “Look, one of the other things on my list was I was supposed to try to get you to get some sleep. So-.” She gestured to herself. “This is me trying here goes. Jim, you look like hell, why don’t you go upstairs and catch a few hours sleep. You need it. Okay now I tried, so if Detective Rafe asks you, yes I made an effort to get you in bed.”
Jim choked on his beer at the same time Emma realized what she had said. The woman fell over on her side and buried her face in the cushions of the love seat. “That is not what I meant!” She said into the cushion.
Jim put his head in his hands and chuckled. “I know.” He lifted his head to see Emma was still trying to become one with the loveseat. “Thank for the offer.” He laughed outright as he heard the mortified artist moan “Oh my God!”
They found conversation enough to carry them through the night, some serious, some not so serious. Jim was deeply thankful that she had come. It would have been a much longer night without a friend.
Chapter Six
Captain Banks sat at his desk looking blankly at the stack of papers on his desk. He had managed three minutes of sleep the night before insuring that when morning came he would not only be unhappy in the extreme but also very tired. It seemed his detectives detected and had been giving him a wide berth all morning. He had called the hospital early to check on Sandburg’s condition and had been relieved at the news, though he hated having to make the call at all.
It was a dangerous job and a dangerous city, but Sandburg hadn’t been working with Jim. He had just been in his home, getting some much needed rest and unfortunately had become a victim of a senseless crime. In Simon’s mind Blair just being in the wrong place at the wrong time only made it worse. “Damnit.” Simon cursed to himself, knowing it hadn’t been the wrong place, the kid had been in his own home! Someplace he was supposed to be safe, but it wasn’t. Home wasn’t safe for anyone and wouldn’t be until the criminals were caught.
He had ordered Rafe and Brown to follow up on the license plate that had been in Jim’s email. It, of course, was much more difficult to track down since the DMV had mysteriously caught a computer virus making many records inaccessible. The knife and ski mask were down in forensics, Cassie Wells had gone to pick the knife up personally this morning. Her team had gone over both Ellison’s loft and the apartment below thoroughly, but had some up with nothing of use. The only real leads they had were the license plate and one eyewitness, one seriously injured and currently heavily sedated eyewitness. Until Blair could give a statement, they could only follow up on what they had. An anonymous email, a license plate number and a ski mask. Simon held out little hope for the Knife, but maybe they wold get lucky and find a print. He wasn’t holding his breath about it.
Something nagged at Simon, something seemed off about the whole situation, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The complete lack of physical evidence bothered. He had run into few criminals that were so carefully organized they left no clues. Even with the vehicles that had been seen had seen could not be traced. It was all too neat, too well organized. It was almost as if the perps knew what a forensics team plus one sentinel would be looking for and acted accordingly. It wasn’t completely outside the realm of possibility that someone in the gang knew a great deal about gathering physical evidence, it was highly unlikely. Even more unlikely was that the perps were just that damn lucky, or they had been, until last night.
They had an eyewitness and Simon had a problem. He couldn’t raise an army to protect that witness and he felt like he needed one. Two uniforms didn’t seem enough to keep their witness, their friend safe. They were dealing with smart, ruthless criminals and Simon remembered all too well the last time they dealt with someone who anticipated their moves. Georges Tibidoux had nearly cost him and half his department their lives. More than anything Simon wanted to avoid a repeat scenario.
Chapter Seven.
Brian Dalton tossed restlessly in his bed. Sleep would not come for him. Not even a marathon fuck with his Angel had relaxed him after the previous night’s botched job.
Angel had cooed at him and stroked him, doing her best to calm him. All he could think about was that he had left a fucking witness and that his anonymous employer was going to be pissed.
‘Don’t worry baby.’ The stunning redhead had told him. ‘I’m sure your boss will understand.”
He had forced a smile, for the lithe beauty was blissfully unaware just how big this screw up was. She innocently thought he was an investment banker and that a deal had gone bad.
‘If only.’ He had thought.
Angel proved to be a brief but intensely pleasurable distraction for him. He was awake long after she had collected her things and returned to her own apartment. The smell of her still lingered and he inhaled her soft floral scent from the pillows. He was certain he would not see her again. He was certain his employer was already arranging for his death.
He was a very unhappy man.
He was a very unhappy man with some serious regrets. Foremost among them that he would not be able to kill the long haired man with the beautiful eyes.
Brian groaned and turned over in his bed. Those eyes. Pools of blue that reflected so clearly the exquisite terror of their owner. No one, man or woman should be allowed to have eyes like that. No one.
The long haired man would have been his first. He’d wanted so badly to kill him with his hands. He’s wanted to feel the pounding heart of his victim stutter to a stop with the sweet release of death. He felt cheated. He would not have such an opportunity again.
He finally gave up on sleep. The sun would rise soon on what he was certain would be the last day of his fruitless life. His father would more than likely be waiting for him in hell with a banner stating ‘I told you so.’
‘Well old man,’ he thought bitterly, ‘the upside of my death is I get to torture you again.’
Brian always could play the glad game. Mostly because the things that made him truly happy were the things that made most people miserable. It was genetic with the men in his family. Snakes, the lot of them. Brian never complained and he always finished first.
Until last night.
He puttered to his kitchen and put on the coffee. The phone rang as he replaced the carafe. He sighed heavily and picked up the receiver on the second ring.
“Hello.”
“I’m disappointed.” His employer’s tinny distorted voice came through the other end.
“We ran out of time.” He defended.
“You were sloppy.”
Brian sighed again. “I was sloppy.”
“You weren’t thinking.” The voice admonished. “You should never have been there.”
“He saw us.”
“It didn’t matter. You neglected your objective for a non-threat. There would have been plenty of time for you to do the old lady and get out of there before the police arrived. You panicked.”
“Yes.”
“You’re special to me Dalton. You have promise where your hangers on do not.” The voiced paused for a long moment, then continued. “It would not have mattered in the long run, the cops were tipped. Your failure was being seen and I have a low tolerance for failure.”
“I’m sorry.” Brian responded.
“You’re not capable of remorse. That is why I came to you, and why I am allowing you one chance to make it up to me. If you fail me again, there is no place you can hide from me. Am I clear?”
“Yes.” He answered and tried to keep the relief from his voice. He was not going to be killed. At least not yet.
“You have a traitor among you. I believe you have a good idea where your Brutus lies. Eliminate him.”
“What about the witness?”
“You can’t touch him. You chose the wrong witness, he’s a civilian observer with the cops. His roommate was cop of the year.”
The venom with which that was said surprised Brian. It was a startling difference from the normal cool inflection of his employer.
“I will arrange for the witness to be taken care of.”
“Very well.”
“Here are your instructions. You will have the problem in your ranks solved no later than midnight. Do me a favor?”
“Anything.” Brian replied.
“Make it very painful.”
The blond man smiled. “Thank you.”
Coming August 30th Part 2!