Jim let out a long sigh of frustration. The crime scene was too chaotic, too bloody to see anything. Now he watched as the coroner's employees lifted the partial body into the black bag.

"Wait!" exclaimed Jim suddenly focusing in on the bottom of the man's right shoe, his Sentinel powers returning. There was something there.

Simon had seen his detective jump suddenly. It could only mean that he had finally found a clue. Walking to the corpse, he knelt down beside the detective.

"What did you find, Jim?"

"Look, Simon," said Jim, pointing to a fishhook stuck to the rubber cleats on the bottom of the man's hiking boots.

"Jim, he could have picked that up anywhere," said Simon. "This whole city is surrounded by the fishing industry."

"Yeah, maybe, but would anywhere have sand like this?" Jim pointed to some red sand.

"Red Sand Cove?"

"It's the only place I know of with sand that color around here." Jim was already sprinting towards Simon's car.

"Jim, wait!" yelled Simon after him. "Don't you think we ought to check out the hospital and see if we can find anything there?"

"I smelled vomit and fish guts on his shoes," answered Jim, getting into the passenger seat. "Blair's not at a hospital. This guy had his wallet and shirt and I'm guessing that they weren't gifts. Unless there's fish hooks and sand at Cascade General, my money is on Red Sand Cove."

Simon nodded and pulled out his keys from his pocket. This was definitely turning into a bizarre case already. But when was it ever normal around Jim or Sandburg for that matter?

Red Sand Cove was a quiet fishing spot about half an hour north of Cascade. But for Simon, the drive had only taken fifteen minutes. Jim had insisted on speed and they had gone through town with lights and siren blaring. Jim didn't even let the car come to a full stop before he was hopping out and hurrying to the dock master's office.

Simon came in on the interrogation already in progress.

"Nope, haven't seen anyone by that description around here," said the old man in his seventies. "Alls I know is that some dang fool stole one of my canoes off the river expedition truck. Didn't take the paddles. Just the boat. Now what good is a canoe without paddles, eh?"

"You didn't hear anything last night?"

"Nope, nothing but then, I'm a sound sleeper and half deaf anyway, so I don't hear nothing too well. And if they took that boat out to sea, they're in mighty big trouble. There's been a few Great White's spotted here in the last couple of days and a canoe with somebody's arm paddling it around is going to look exactly like a tasty seal calling them in for dinner."

Jim sighed. "Would there be anybody here that might have seen something going on here last night?"

"There's a retired couple staying in the rental cabin by the dock for the week. They might have heard something but mostly this place is for day fishermen. It's not really set up for camping."

"Can I get a list of all the people who dock their boats here?" asked Jim.

"Sure but it will take me a few minutes to get it together for you. You could go and talk with the Mailers meanwhile. They usually head into town for early lunch, so you'd better hurry."

Jim exited the door instantly. He was a man on a mission. Simon almost felt like laughing. The man was better than a trained hound and much less likely to be distracted by a bone or dog in heat. Okay, maybe the dog in heat. This Superman did have his kryptonite and it was his pheromones.

"Mr. Mailer?" asked Jim approaching the man on the porch.

"Yes?" answered the elderly man.

"I'm Detective Ellison with the Cascade PD. This is Captain Banks. We're here investigating a murder and possible kidnapping of a police officer last night. We'd like to ask you a few questions if we may?"

The old man looked shocked as did his wife who had appeared at the cabin door.

"What do we have to do with this?"

"Nothing, sir. We just need your help."

"What can I do? I don't know anything about this."

"Just a few questions, sir and we'll let you get back to your vacation here."

"Sure, ask away," said the man, suddenly feeling important.

"Did you or your wife hear anything unusual last night. It would have been between one a.m. and six this morning."

"Well, we were up at five and had breakfast on the porch," said Mrs. Mailer. "I don't remember anything out of the ordinary."

"Well, let's see," said the man. "There was the boat we heard coming into dock just as we were waking up. Didn't see anything though."

"Would you happen to know which boat?" asked Jim.

"Like I said, didn't see it but it had a pretty distinct knock in the engine."

"A knock?" asked Simon.

"Yeah, like it was missing something. Definitely needed a tune-up."

"If you were to hear it again, do you think you'd recognize which boat?"

"Well, yes, I suppose I probably could."

"Would you mind coming down to the dock with us for a few moments while we fire them up?"

"I guess so," said the man. "That okay with you, kitten?"

"Well, of course. Anything we can do to help find the missing officer."

As the three men headed for the boats, the dock master appeared with the list. "Here's the list you asked for. Anything else you boys need?" he asked.

"Any boats sign out for a fishing trip last night?"

The dock master shook his head. "Nope. But then, the owners have their own keys and can come and go as they please. Most of them don't sign out. Don't want their wives to figure out where and what they're doing."

"Do you have spare keys for the boats here?"

"Sure. I keep them in the safe. The owners like for me to have a spare just in case of an emergency or in case I need to move them into the sheltered dock down the way."

"Can we get them?"

A few minutes later, Jim was revving up the motor of a medium sized yacht.

"Nope," said the man, shaking his head. "From the sound of the motor, I'd say it's probably one of those." He pointed to the faster cruisers. "Pretty powerful motors."

Within minutes, they had found the boat.

"Yep, this is the one," said the old man. "That's the boat I heard this morning."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Mailer. You've been a great help. We may need to talk with you later, if that's okay?" asked Simon.

"Sure, but my wife's a diabetic. I need to get her fed here soon."

"By all means," said Simon. "Please go on. We can catch up with you later if need be."

Jim had already begun examining the boat with his Sentinel senses. His head suddenly jerked back a little.

"What, you come up with something?" asked Simon watching the old man hurry up the dock invigorated by the excitement.

Moving quickly down below deck, Jim pulled his weapon, motioning for the dock master to stay back. Simon pulled his now as well and was ready when Jim opened the door to the cabin below. On the floor was a paper cup. There was a crystalline ring around the one hundred milligram mark. Jim picked it up and smelled it first.

"I don't know, Simon," he said. "But Blair was here. I smell him."

Within the hour, there was a mobile lab and forensics team scouring the boat for more evidence. Jim had found blood on the deck.

"Captain Banks?" questioned a lab technician approaching Simon and Jim.

"Yes?"

"The substance in the cup was pretty easy to determine. Amitriptyline. It's a prescription- only drug. Definitely not an over-the-counter agent. In minute doses, it's effective as a treatment for depression and anxiety but not lethal if given in the right doses. However, anything above fifty milligrams can be deadly. If your man ingested what it looks like he did, he's probably already dead. Generally it takes anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour for it to go through the bloodstream. We checked it for dilution and found a small trace of water but given the potency of the drug, even with water, it's lethal. The cup's still damp which means that the drug was administered maybe two hours ago, which means there's a remote chance he's still alive. But he can't be in very good shape. Assuming he wasn't dumped in the water, he doesn't have much time from the evidence we have here."

"Fine," said Jim already hearing the Coast Guard helicopter Simon had ordered.

The dock master had said that most of the owners log in their mileage every trip as a safety precaution. This boat had traveled thirty miles, which meant fifteen out and fifteen back. It was a long shot but whomever it was had probably set Blair adrift somewhere in the ocean in the missing canoe. Why he hadn't just been thrown into the sea or killed outright was still a mystery but one they would have to solve later.

"Is there an antidote?" asked Jim above the noise of the chopper.

"No. At this stage of the game, pumping his stomach probably would be useless. The drug has already had plenty of time to absorb into his system. The only thing you can do is keep the airway open, keep the heart pumping until you can get him to a hospital."

Jim nodded as he boarded the helicopter with Simon.

"We'll find him, Jim," yelled Simon as they took off.

Blair couldn't stop shaking. He was sure that his bones would just fall apart any minute and it was starting to frighten him. He had tried desperately to remember what had happened to him. But right now, he couldn't even remember his name. All he knew was that he felt as if he might spontaneously combust any moment. All he could see was a blinding light above him, searing him to death like a fish out of water.

"No," he cried out.

The noise of his own voice hurt his ears, which were already ringing. Unable to even sit up, he was helpless and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. It had to be the oven he was in. Someone was cooking him alive, roasting him slowly. Sea Demon? Who was Sea Demon? Was he Sea Demon? Did he belong in the ocean? If he somehow could get up and jump into the sea, would he be saved by the cold water? 'Welcome home, Sea Demon.' He had to be Sea Demon. He had to get to the water. The water would save him from baking.

Jim wasn't going to let his fears interfere with finding Blair. He had charted out a search grid by following a path straight out to sea and then accounted for drift and current. He would search there. It was his only hope. And from the evidence, it was probably Blair's only hope. How the kid got into these scrapes was beyond him but it was so bizarre, so out of the blue that he couldn't even comprehend this one himself. Normally, there was some reason for the trouble his partner got him into. There was usually some logical thread to follow, some connection, but this was as random as he could imagine at the moment. Somehow it connected but not in the helpful way. It was just a string of circumstances. If this new decapitation victim hadn't stumbled into the path of a copycat serial killer, they might have never known what had happened to his partner. He would have been lost to them forever and still might be.

"There!" yelled the Sentinel suddenly spotting the flash of light on the waves. "South twenty- five degrees!"

The chopper pilot maneuvered the helicopter in that direction, not sure what the man in the back had seen.

"It's probably just the sun reflecting on a wave crest, sir!" yelled the co-pilot back to the detectives. "We get that all the time out here on a sunny day."

"Get lower," ordered Jim.

As they swung lower, he heard the pilot exclaim. "Well, I'll be."

There it was. A lone canoe rocking unsteadily against the building waves.

"That thing's going to tip over any minute!" yelled Simon as he looked down at the craft where they could now see the prone figure of a man.

"I'm going in," yelled Jim as he put on his life jacket.

"No, sir!" yelled the pilot. "Great Whites in the water about twenty yards to the portside, sir. We can't risk putting you into the water. We'll call for the ship."

"How long will that take?"

"About ten minutes, sir! They're only about five miles from here right now."

"He may not have ten minutes!" yelled Jim.

"Jim, I know how you feel but we're going to have to wait for the ship. I know you think you're invincible but you can't wrestle a Great White. One bite and you're gone. Two and you're both gone. Don't be a fool!"

Simon was right and Jim knew it but it killed him to see his partner leaning closer and closer to capsizing as the waves swelled and dipped. It was going to be very long ten minutes.

Jim watched as the boat shot out a canister of shark repellent near the canoe. As soon as the two sharks they had seen from above were swimming away, Jim was in the water. He wasn't going to wait for the boat to maneuver in and the divers to get fitted. He was going to his partner now.

Resurfacing, he caught his breath and began swimming toward the canoe. Gaining the side of the craft, he tipped the edge of the canoe to get a better view of Blair. He didn't need to check for life, it was clear that Blair was still breathing. He could hear the rasping sound of his lungs struggling for air. His eyes were open but not looking at anything in particular.

"Blair? It's Jim. I'm here, pal. Just hang on. We're going to get you out of here."

Blair didn't answer. He was shaking.

"Hold on, Chief," said Jim again, hoping that Blair could at least hear him.

Jim was pacing the waiting room at the hospital. In his hands was the Sea Demon comic book they had found in the boat. Sea Demon #1. He had read it over and over trying to make sense of it as it related to Sandburg. Sandburg generally read Spawn comics and why would he be in a stolen canoe, half-naked, drugged and reading a Sea Demon comic book? They had checked it for prints but it was in mint condition, no prints except for Sandburg's. No chemicals, no nothing and not even a unique storyline. It was just your typical super hero theme. Nothing related to anything in real life even Sandburg's. There was nothing obvious but it had to be a clue.

The doctor finally stepped through the doors.

"Captain Banks?" asked the doctor.

"I'm Banks," answered Simon who had been talking with Rafe. "How is he?"

Jim was crowding next to him now as the doctor spoke. "It's not good. We've managed to stabilize his vitals but there's still a danger. Apparently, he was given aspirin with it and that caused a rise in his blood pressure. As long as it's in his system, there's a risk of congestive heart failure or stroke. We'll have to monitor him closely for the next twenty-four hours."

"But what?" asked Jim noticing the hesitation in the doctor's voice.

"He's suffering from serious delusions. He'll be going through some manic depressive episodes along with hallucinations and depression. The good news is that I think he'll make a full recovery. The bad news is that it could be a month or so of supervision and monitoring. I'd like to recommend that you put him in a full-time care facility for the next two weeks. After that, we can re-evaluate his progress. Any time we have a case of drug overdose related to the nervous system, it's better to be safe. These things can come back to haunt a person months, even years afterwards."

"No," said Jim definitively. "He was in one of those places before. It nearly killed him... and me. Why can't he just stay here?"

"You couldn't afford it," answered the doctor truthfully. "And home care would cost you almost as much. The Snowden Institute is covered by your department insurance for short-term care. I'm going to recommend that he be sent there as soon as he's able to be moved."

"Thanks, doc," answered Simon, seeing that Jim was going to argue the point. "When can we see him?"

"You can see him now but we've had to sedate him. He's under the delusion that he's some sort of sea creature and needs to be in water or he'll die. We're afraid if he gets loose, he'll end up drowning himself."

"Sea Demon," said Jim, holding up the comic book in his hand.

"Well, okay, Sea Demon. We've had to strap him down, so don't be alarmed. He's fine. We just don't want him hurting himself."

Jim nodded and followed Simon and the doctor. Rafe was behind him. It was going to be painful for all of them but the kid was strong and he was alive.

Jim had been dozing in the waiting room when his cell phone rang. It was obviously morning now as the sun glared into the room.

"Ellison," he answered sleepily.

"Jim?" It was Simon. "Have you been there all night? I thought I told you to go home and get some rest."

"What do you need, Simon?" he asked, unwilling to take a lecture this early in the morning.

"There's been another murder. The victim was exsanguinated."

"The token?"

"Next to the body. Same guy, Jim. Only this one was vampirized."

"This just doesn't make any sense, Simon. One guy, no common denominator. I'm going to check on Blair first, then I'll be there. Where is it?"

"Green and Seventh Avenue," said Simon. "I'll meet you there."

Jim walked up to Blair's bedside. This one just felt wrong. Why? What was the link between Blair, the Sea Demon comic book, and the murders? Somehow Blair had the answer in his scrambled head. Taking his partner's hand, he squeezed gently.

"I need an answer, pal. Play the nutty professor all you want later but we have a serial killer on the loose and I need your help."

"Water," said the man in the bed suddenly. "I need water."

Jim poured him a glass quickly. Unable to reach it, Jim lifted his partner's head and let him sip it slowly. When he had finished, the Sentinel leaned in closer and stroked his friend's head.

"Blair, buddy, you know who I am?"

"The Sentinel," replied the younger man confidently. "You're the Sentinel, savior of the city, warrior destined to save the city from the evil that plagues it."

Jim laughed. It was a good thing his partner was considered insane at the moment. "You make me sound like a super hero."

"You are," said Blair seriously. "And I'm your ally of the sea. I keep the waters around the city safe."

"Sea Demon," sighed Jim. "How do you know that you're Sea Demon, Blair?"

"I... I just am."

"When? When did you first know?"

Blair seemed to be thinking. "I don't know. When did you know you were the Sentinel? It was a revelation, a gut feeling. I... I don't know who I was before or where I came from. It's all a blur but I'm sure it will come back to me soon enough."

"But you do remember something? What happened to you last night?"

"I was out fighting evil. Black demons popping up from the ground, like shadows."

This may have been just residual nightmares from the time Blair had overdosed on the drug Golden, thought Jim. He saw demons then too, people made from ash.

"Describe these demons. Maybe I can find them and take care of them for you."

"Why am I tied down here? I have to save the city."

Jim decided to go along with Blair's delusion to get his answers. "You're stronger than you think, Chief. Someone, and I'm assuming it's an evil villain neither of us knows about yet, slipped you a drug that nearly killed you last night. With your super powers, and for the safety of the city and those around you, we had to strap you down until the drug wears off and you're in complete control again."

That seemed to satisfy the kid. "That's good to know. I was a little worried that I was hallucinating there. I thought for a while there that this was all just a bad dream. Duncan told me something like this might happen. That I'd question my existence."

"Duncan?" asked Jim suddenly picking up on the strange name. As far as he knew, neither of them knew a Duncan. "Strange, I haven't seen Duncan around lately. Where's he been lately?" Jim wondered if any of this was going to be helpful but you didn't just pull a name from thin air.

"Working. There's a lot of scum and villainy out there. It's a never ending battle for justice but then, you know that."

Jim smiled. "More than you realize. Was Duncan with anyone else when you saw him last night? Maybe I can hook up with him if I can find him. We can combine forces."

Blair seemed to concentrate. "Would you consider yourself a comet or a star?"

"What?" asked Jim.

"I guess you're more like a comet. Speeding along in the scheme of things. A loner, a renegade against nature. I wish I could be more like you. I envy you. What you can do, what you feel and hear. Sometimes, I think you'd rather not have me around. I'm a hindrance to you. I slow you down."

"That's not true," answered Jim, suddenly realizing that this was Blair talking now and not Sea Demon. "I need you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be hanging around with you. You wouldn't be my partner."

"You never show it," answered the man in the bed.

"Like how?" asked the detective. "How should I be showing it?"

"If I died, it wouldn't be such a big deal for you. You could go on. You would just close down that emotion. You don't ever compliment me on what I do unless I press it. You don't defend me when we're out with the guys. You tease me. It's just a strange way to care about someone if you ask me."

Jim was suddenly feeling the sting of Blair's words. He cared. Surely the kid knew that by now. What had he done to make this come to the surface now?

"Blair, what's up? What makes you think I don't care?"

"It's okay," sighed Sandburg. "The Sentinel can't afford to get too attached to someone like me. I'm expendable. I know that. I'm sorry. I shouldn't expect more than that. It's a failing I need to work on."

The doctor had said that depression was all a part of this and this conversation was definitely heading that way. Apparently, Blair needed reassurance that he was needed and wanted. Jim put his hand on his friend's face, cupping it gently. "You're so much like a brother to me that I forget to tell you how much I do appreciate having you around. I'm sorry if I take that for granted. You've made my life interesting. You've taught me more about myself than I ever could have learned on my own. And you've been there to keep me sane and even save my butt from the fire a few times. The fact that you sacrificed your entire career to keep my identity safe was more than any man I know would have done. I don't think I really ever discussed that with you. You're a lot more important to me than you can ever imagine."

Blair's eyes met his roommate's. They seemed lucid enough. "You shouldn't repress the emotions, Jim. It's hard on your physiological make-up. Adds stress where there shouldn't be. You should learn to loosen up a bit and say what you really feel." He smiled before his eyes clouded. "Who are you?" he suddenly asked.

"I'm the Sentinel," answered Jim realizing that he had lost his friend to the drug again. "Someone tried to kill you last night. What happened? Do you remember anything?"

Blair closed his eyes. "Yes, I remember some things. Just images and some people. I was with the gang on a boat. I must have already been losing it. I think they were trying to help me remember who I was."

"On a boat? Who was there with you?" questioned Jim, now interested in the story.

"Ben was holding me. He's a good man, you know?"

Jim nodded. "Who else?"

"Duncan, Nick, Johnny, and Ben. There might have been someone else but I don't remember."

"Duncan, Nick, Johnny and Ben? Where was the boat?"

"I don't know. I think I must have been poisoned. They tried to give me an antidote but it was too late. I passed out and that's all I can remember."

"It's been a while since I was at Duncan's place. Remind me where he lives," coaxed Jim.

Blair had opened his eyes and now looked frightened. "You aren't the Sentinel or you'd know the secret hideout."

"Relax. I am the Sentinel but I went there last night looking for you and it was deserted. What's going on? Why am I being left out of the loop?"

Calming, Blair's eyes seemed to suddenly get heavy.

"Where would they be, Blair? I need to get an important message to them."

"Everybody knows where they live, Jim," said Blair strangely. "Everybody." With that, he seemed to start to fade into unconsciousness. "Hold the fort, will you? I'm really tired here."

"Sure thing, Chief," sighed Jim as he watched his partner's eyes close.

So there were four guys involved in last night's adventure. And now he had the first names of four of them. It was a start, at least.