Cascade Boys and Girls Club

The Jags were up by twenty-six with less than a minute to go in the fourth quarter. Orvelle had all the bench players in the game. Even though he had only played in half the game, it had been Joey Hillard's best game of the season, with twenty-two points and eleven assists. He had even run the plays correctly. Orvelle looked over at Blair who sitting on the end of the bench. "Thanks, Blair, it looks like that talk you had with him on Tuesday really helped him get his head together."

Blair smiled back, then focused his attention on the action on the court.

Orvelle called the team together after the final buzzer sounded. "OK, everybody, have a seat on the bleachers. I want to explain what's gonna happen this weekend. There are sixteen teams in the tournament. First game is tomorrow night at 6:00 PM. If we win the game tomorrow night, we advance to the Championship bracket on Saturday morning. The top two teams in that bracket will advance to the State Finals. If we lose tomorrow night, we'll play in the consolation bracket Saturday afternoon. I don't know about you guys, but I plan on winning that first game. We have the ability, but we need to play together as a team, just like you guys did tonight. Hanging on the locker room door is the starting lineup for the game tomorrow night. I'll see you all right here tomorrow at 5:30 PM."

Orvelle stepped aside to avoid the stampede heading for the locker room. Smiling over at Blair, he watched as Joey Hillard saw his name on the list as the starting point guard in the game and gave a 'thumbs up' to his dad, who was sitting in the stands.

Hillard walked over to where Blair and Orvelle were picking up the equipment, obviously angry. "Why did you have Joey out of the game again? He was playing well. As far as I could tell, he was doing everything you asked of him. Yet, he was the first starter taken out of the lineup. Just what problem do you have with my son, Mr. Sandburg?"

"He played very well, Mr. Hillard, but frankly, we didn't need him tonight to win this game. We believed it was better to take him out before an injury could potentially occur. We wanted to save him for the games this weekend when we will really need him," Blair explained.

"Well, my brother, Frankie, is bringing a scout from the University of Washington here for the tournament to check out my Joey. My son has a very bright future ahead of him, but he has to be in the game in order to prove it. I hope you won't do anything else to jeopardize that." Hillard turned and walked away without giving Blair or Orvelle a chance to respond.

As Hillard headed out the exit, Blair started to laugh. "Who is he kidding? What scout is going to check out fourteen year olds playing club ball?"

Orvelle shook his head. "I believe him. Nowadays, colleges are starting to recruit earlier in a player's career. These kids are all in 8th or 9th grade. The colleges that care about the kids getting an education as well as playing ball want to make sure they're taking the right academic courses to get into the school. Saves them a lot of trouble later on. The college scouts who are simply looking for talent attend these citywide tournaments because it saves them time. Normally they would have to go to several high school games to see only a couple of talented players. If they watch the tournament games, they see hundreds of kids in a single weekend. Saves them a lot of time and energy, not to mention money."

Blair shook his head. "It's a game, Orvelle. It's supposed to be fun. I don't understand the mentality of some of these parents. These kids are only fourteen years old. Why push them so hard? Most of them have no idea what they want to do this summer much less where they want to go to college four years from now. Some of them probably won't even stick with the game. A kid's interests and hobbies change on a daily basis. Mine always did."

"I don't get it either, Blair. It's a real shame, but some of the most talented kids are lost to the program because they burn out before even graduating from high school. These parents are living vicariously through their children's successes without paying attention to how their children feel."

Carmen's Pizzeria

Blair left the celebration full of pizza and with a big grin on his face. He and Orvelle had taken the team out for pizza after they qualified for the Championship bracket. It was late and their first game tomorrow was at 8:00 AM. As he left Carmen's, he realized that a spring shower had started. The streets were slick and there was a slight fog rising from them. As he headed for his car, trying not to get too wet, he didn't notice the Explorer that was parked up the street from Carmen's.

He got into his car and pulled away from the curb. The Explorer pulled out at the same time he did. He turned down the street and headed for Prospect. The rain was getting heavier and visibility was much worse. The Explorer pulled up right on his rear bumper with the headlight's high beams on.

"Come on, man. Would you just go around?" Blair looked at his rear view mirror, but the high beams from the car behind him made it difficult to see anything.

Blair started to pull to the side of the road so he could get out of the guy's way, but the Explorer suddenly accelerated and rammed his car from behind.

"Shit!" yelled Blair as he lost control of his car.

The car started to hydroplane across the wet street. Blair spun the wheel, trying to get the car under control, but all his efforts were in vain and he was unable to prevent the vehicle from broad- siding the streetlight on the passenger side. As he looked up, the Explorer pulled around his wrecked car. He tried to catch the license plate, but he only managed to see the first three letters.

Blair was startled by the sound of tapping on his window. He looked out and saw a woman with an umbrella standing by his door with an open cell phone. "I saw the whole thing, and I've called the police. Are you OK?"

Blair nodded, still keeping a tight grip on the steering wheel, unable to force his hands to let go. He put his head back down as he heard the sounds of sirens getting louder.

He must have blacked out for a second, because the next thing he knew the sound of the sirens had come to a halt. The flashing lights from the police car blinded him for a moment. He could see one officer on the radio as the second officer approached him and the woman who was still standing next to his car. The officer opened the car door and, recognizing him, asked, "Are you all right, Detective Sandburg?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think. Just a little shaken up," Blair answered, still a little dazed.

"Why don't you let the paramedics check you out?" suggested the officer as he took the witness by the arm and led her over to the curb to get her statement. The paramedic, who had been standing behind the officer, knelt down beside the open car door.

"Hey, Blair, what's it been, a whole week since I've seen you or your partner? How are you doing?"

Blair smiled weakly and answered, "Hey, Mac. I'm fine. Look, I'm not bleeding this time."

"I can see that. What do you say about letting me check you over anyway?"

"Fine, I'm not going anywhere. Not in this car anyway." Resigned to the situation, Blair allowed the EMT to check him over.

It wasn't five minutes before Blair saw Jim's blue and white truck arrive at the scene. Jim jumped out of the truck, slammed the door shut and ran to his side. Before he could get a word out, the paramedic looked up and explained, "He's OK, Jim, just a couple of bruises and a minor case of whiplash. We're not even transporting him to the hospital."

Jim answered with a relieved smile, "Thanks, Mac. That's good to hear."

"Take him home, give him a couple of aspirin. If his neck or back starts to bother him, have him see his own doctor tomorrow."

"I'll keep an eye on him. I know what to look for. Thanks again." The paramedic smiled at the two partners as he collected his equipment and left.

"Quit talking about me like I'm not here," Blair remarked miserably.

"What happened here, Chief?" asked Jim, scanning the scene.

"I got run off the road by some lunatic in a Ford Explorer. The color was either blue or black. Between the rain and the guy's high beams, it was hard to tell which color it was. Jim, the guy intentionally rear-ended me. At first I thought it was a carjacking, but he never stopped his vehicle. As he pulled around my car after I spun out I caught a glimpse of the license plate, but all I saw was the first three letters: ABD."

The uniform, overhearing the conversation between the two partners, added, "That pretty much matches what the witness observed. She also couldn't tell the exact color of the truck, just that it was a dark color. She didn't see the license plate, but she did catch a quick look at the driver. She said that the guy turned and stared at Sandburg as he passed by. We're taking her down to the station. We'll have her look at the mug shots, maybe try to get a composite sketch done. I've already called for a tow truck for the vehicle."

Jim watched the patrol unit with the witness in the back seat pull away from the scene. Blair stepped out of his car and started to check out the damage. Jim walked around the back of the car. He turned up the dial on his sight as he noticed some paint smudges on the back of the car. "Looks like there was some damage to the Explorer. I'll arrange for forensics to take a look at it. They should be able to give us more info on the color and possibly the year of the truck based on the paint. Car manufacturers have had to make a lot of changes in the chemical composition of paints the last few years because of all the changes in the environmental regulations."

Blair didn't answer. He just stared at his car, his formerly brand new car.

Jim walked over to his partner and threw an arm around his shoulders. "Hey, Chief. It's not that bad. My mechanic does great bodywork, you'll see. You won't even be able to tell the car was in an accident after he gets through with it. After forensics is done doing their thing, I'll arrange for it to be towed there."

"My car, Jim. Twice in the same damn week. My new car," Blair answered softly.

"I know. Come on. Let's get you home. You've had a long day," Jim said as he steered his partner toward his truck.

Park Place Apartments

"What is he doing? Do you think that's the stuff from the break-in?" Rafe asked as he observed Johnson leaving the front door carrying several boxes. "He could have picked it up from his stash the other night when he ditched us?"

"I don't know, but get Joel on the cell phone. He and Megan couldn't have gotten very far. They've only been off duty for fifteen minutes. We might need their help tailing Johnson. Looks like this case is about to break wide open and I don't want to screw this up."

"Yeah, I agree. He's not giving us the slip this time," Rafe agreed as he dialed Taggert's number.

The two detectives watched as their suspect made two more trips before climbing into his vehicle and pulling away. Brown was careful to stay a couple of car lengths behind Johnson while Rafe was giving directions to Taggert over the cell phone. When Taggert was only a half a block behind him, Brown grabbed the phone from his partner and started to explain his idea.

"Joel, I'm gonna pass him and try to stay in front of him. If he is watching for a tail, he might be getting suspicious. We've been on him for several blocks already. You can move up on him once I get in front."

Brown pulled around in front of Johnson's truck as Taggert moved to one car length behind him. They followed Johnson for another few blocks before he finally pulled off the road into an alley by Chester's Pawnshop.

"Hey, I know this place," Rafe said to his partner. "Chester's has a questionable reputation and was on the list Jim and Blair prepared as possible fences. I know the owner has been busted twice in the last five years for possession of stolen property. I was part of one of the busts when I was back in patrol."

Henri relayed the information to Taggert and Connor as he parked his car around the corner from the pawnshop. Joel parked across the street. All four detectives watched as Johnson made several trips carrying boxes from his car into the pawnshop. It looked like Johnson was giving them all the evidence they were going to need to convict him this time.

"How do you want to handle this, Joel?" Henri asked as he drew his weapon.

Joel thought for a moment before answering. "You and Rafe take the back door. Megan and I will cover the front door and the entrance to the alley."

As Rafe and Brown silently slipped down the alley, Johnson exited the pawnshop for one last trip to his truck. He spotted Rafe and attempted to escape by tossing the box he was carrying at him. Rafe ducked out of the way and tackled Johnson. The two men landed in a pile of garbage. The slimy mess made it difficult for either man to fight very well. Johnson could not manage to get his feet under him quick enough to get away from the officers.

Brown picked his way carefully across the alley to cuff Johnson. Rafe had gotten to his feet and was gingerly removing the remains of someone's lunch from his clothes. Brown stifled a laugh at the disgusted expression he was wearing in addition to the trash.

With Johnson between them, the two men headed back to Johnson's truck. As they came around the front of the vehicle, they saw Joel and Megan coming towards them with another man in custody. They had arrested the pawnshop owner as he fled the store out the front door. After he was cuffed, they brought him over to stand next to Johnson. Joel looked at the items now lying on the ground from the box that was broken open after being thrown at Rafe. "Hey, Megan, doesn't that look like the jewelry listed on the inventory from the Dames robbery?"

"Why, yes, Joel. I believe it is," Megan responded sweetly as she glared at their two suspects.

"Well, it looks like the two of you have some explaining to do. Henri, call for transport and have forensics dispatched to the scene. I want all this documented for the trial. The DA is going to love it."

Both Johnson and Chester slumped against the wall. They were screwed, and they knew it.

Interrogation Room

Jim watched from behind the glass as Megan and Joel interrogated Johnson.

"What do you think, Jim?" asked Simon, as Megan continued to grill Johnson about Blair's accidents. Johnson was adamantly denying any involvement.

"We have him on the break-in and the murder charges. We caught him red-handed with the stolen property just like the DA wanted. With the deal the DA arranged with Chester for his testimony, we have an open and shut case"

"What about the incidents concerning Sandburg? Is he lying?"

"No, as far as I can determine, he was telling the truth when he said he knew nothing about them. I don't want to believe him, but I really don't think he had anything to do with the attacks on Blair."

"Then who did? We all assumed that it was Johnson with the grudge against Blair."

"I don't know. But I intend to find out. Whoever it is, they are still out there."

"Where is Sandburg?"

"He's at the gym. With Johnson being busted, I figured he was safe without me. The citywide tournament started Friday night and he's gonna be tied up all weekend," Jim said with a smile as he and Simon left the observation room.

Rafe walked up to Jim and Simon in the hallway. "We got the list of matches on that partial license plate from the truck that ran Sandburg off the road last night. Nobody on the list has a record, though. The paint chips didn't come from Johnson's truck. There were no signs of damage or recent repair to the front end and the plates didn't match either. H and I didn't recognize anyone on the list with an obvious connection to either Robert Johnson or to Blair. We thought you might want to take a look to see if there are any prior arrests that you and Sandburg were responsible for handling."

Jim took the list from Rafe and starting reviewing the names. On the second page, about halfway down, one name stood out. "Oh, God, Simon. We've been looking at this from the wrong angle," Jim looked up in dismay at his boss, then headed for the stairs to the garage. Simon hurried to catch up. Standing at the top of the stairs, he called down, "Jim, what angle are you talking about?"

Jim paused for a moment on the first landing. "These attacks have nothing to do with Blair's police work. I gotta get to the gym."

Simon called back through the open doorway to where Rafe was still standing. "Rafe, go find Brown and meet us at the Cascade Boys and Girls Club." Simon started down the stairs after Jim. "Ellison, wait up. I'll drive. You need to get there in one piece."

Cascade Boys and Girls Club

The Junior Jags had won the 8:00 AM game easily. Joey Hillard had played great, probably because his father hadn't made it to the game. The second game had not started as well for the team. Joey had fallen back into his old pattern as soon as his father showed up. Not only was his father yelling at him from the stands, his uncle was even louder. A man in a dark suit sat next to the two men, taking notes. Blair had taken Joey out twice during the first quarter of the game, but Joey didn't want to listen to him. In fact, when Joey started yelling back at Blair, Orvelle refused to allow him back in the game during the second quarter. Joey was sitting at the end of the bench, refusing to talk or look at anyone.

The game was tied at half time. At the start of the third quarter, when it became apparent that Joey wasn't going back into the game, the man in the dark suit left the gym. If looks could kill, Blair would have been dead from the glares coming from Hillard and his brother. Blair didn't notice them, but Joey and Orvelle both did. Orvelle thought about warning him, but he forgot as Michael sank a three pointer.

By the middle of the fourth quarter, the Jags had taken the lead by ten points. The other team never got back into the game. After the final buzzer had sounded and the kids were headed into the locker room, Orvelle smiled and looked over at Blair. "Hey Blair, we don't have to be back in the gym until 4:00 for the final round. I'll finish cleaning up here. Why don't you make sure the kids didn't trash the locker room, then we'll grab a late lunch?"

"Sure, I'll meet you back here in ten minutes."

Blair entered the locker room, half expecting the place to look like a hurricane had hit it. He was amazed to find only a few towels left on the floor. After putting them into the hamper, he turned and reached for the exit door, only to have it fly open, hitting him in the arm.

A large man entered the locker room, forcing Blair to take several steps back and blocking his way back into the gym. Wondering what was going on, Blair said, "Hello, Mr. Hillard, can I help you with something?"

"Why wasn't Joey playing in that game? Are you really that stupid? He's the best player on the team and you had him on the bench again!" yelled the angry parent as he forced Blair further back into the locker room.

"I've explained this to you before Mr. Hillard. Orvelle and I aren't going to let Joey on the court unless he's gonna be a team player. This is a team sport and Joey hasn't learned that yet."

"The scout from University of Washington was here. This was Joey's best shot for a scholarship and now you've completely ruined his future."

"I think if you calm down you'll realize you're overreacting a little here. His future is not ruined. He has plenty of time to get his act together. He is only fourteen," Blair responded calmly, trying to defuse the situation.

Hillard didn't appear to be listening. "I warned you what would happen, Sandburg. I told you that you'd regret it if you benched him again. I even gave you two friendly warnings. Now, I have to make you pay."

Blair remembered, too late, that there was a second entrance to the locker room when he heard someone coming up behind him. He attempted to turn, but before he could move, someone shoved him backward against the lockers, the back of his head hitting hard against one of the locker handles. Dazed, he couldn't fight back as he was grabbed by his right arm and spun around. In an instant, his arms were pinned behind him and he found himself facing Hillard.

Slightly dazed, he attempted to focus his eyes on Hillard. "So it was you who slashed my tires the other day and ran me off the road last night?"

"I told you I'd make you regret it, but you obviously didn't get the message. Hold him still, Frankie."

Blair attempted to break the hold that the man had on him, but the guy had too strong a grip on him. After the first couple of shots to his stomach and ribs, the room started to spin, then started to go black. Just as he started to lose consciousness, he could have sworn he heard Orvelle's voice calling out to him. He didn't have the strength to answer as the darkness overcame him.

Jim and Simon entered the club. Several games were still going on. Jim filtered out the noise of the crowd and attempted to find his partner. Simon watched as the Sentinel narrowed down the search. Jim finally located Orvelle Wallace's voice. Fighting his way through the crowd, with Simon right on his heels, he quickly reached Orvelle's side.

"Hi, Detective Ellison, Captain Banks! We won! We made the finals!" Orvelle exclaimed with a broad grin.

"Where's Blair? He may be in trouble." Jim asked hurriedly.

"He was just collecting the last of the stuff from the locker room. I told him I'd meet him right here. We were going to grab some lunch before the last game. I'll show you. This way, guys."

As Orvelle opened the door to the locker room, he called "Hey, Blair, where are you? Hustle it up, I'm hungry."

Simon caught up to Ellison and Wallace, followed by a breathless Rafe and Brown. Jim could hear three male voices in the room. "Damn, we're too late," Jim said as he pushed Orvelle aside and headed in the direction of the voices. Simon followed closely behind.

Both men observed the final blow rendered by Hillard, which caused Blair to double over. The second man was supporting most of Blair's weight at this point. Both of Blair's arms were still pinned behind his back. When Frankie realized they were no longer alone in the locker room, he let go of the limp form. Blair slid to the floor, falling hard onto his right side.

Jim, angered beyond reason by the cruelty of the two men, grabbed Hillard by the arm and shoved him hard against the lockers. "Cascade PD! Don't move! Hands against the wall," Jim ordered as he used his forearm against the back of the man's neck, pinning him against wall, applying just enough pressure to make the man sweat.

"Easy, Ellison. Check on your partner," ordered Simon as he watched Rafe and Brown handcuff the two men and lead them out of the locker room.

Jim carefully knelt beside his partner, checking out his injuries. He gently ran his fingers across the back of Blair's head. He could feel a large lump growing and the stickiness of blood. Running his hands down Blair's side, Jim couldn't locate any broken bones, but Blair showed no signs of regaining consciousness. Jim looked up at his captain, his face drawn. "Simon, we need an ambulance."

Orvelle answered, "An ambulance is required to be on-site at all times during the tournament. I'll go find the paramedics."

After the doctor had done his check, Jim slipped back into the darkened hospital room. Blair had been moved to a private room several hours ago, but he still hadn't regained consciousness. The doctor said he was lucky. Blair's injuries would only require an overnight stay in the hospital. Three of his ribs were bruised, his right wrist was sprained and a muscle was pulled in his right shoulder. The worst injury was the concussion caused when his head was slammed against the lockers. The concussion, and the fact that he was still unconscious, were the reasons Blair was being kept overnight for observation.

Jim sat down in the chair he had moved from against the wall so he could sit beside the bed.

"Nothing is ever easy for you, huh, Chief?" Jim whispered to Blair. He moved closer to his friend, resting one hand on Blair's arm and providing reassurance to Blair and himself that everything was going to be all right.

"Jim." The voice was very shaky and the eyes were a little dazed, but Blair was awake.

Jim smiled and leaned over his friend. "How are you feeling, Chief?"

"Lousy. Did you get the number of the truck that hit me?"

"Yeah, Chief. We have them in custody down at the station. Relax and get some rest. Everything's under control."

Jim watched as Blair closed his eyes and peacefully dropped into a sound sleep.

Silently, Jim left Blair's room and headed for the waiting room. He was amazed to find it packed with the guys from the bullpen and the kids from Blair's team. Most of them were with their parents so there wasn't a seat left in the room. All eyes were upon him as he entered.

"He's fine. He woke up for a minute, but went right back to sleep. He's probably gonna be out for the rest of the night," Jim announced to the group. "Why don't you all go home?"

Orvelle walked over to Jim and handed him a basketball. "After we won the final game, the team took a vote, and it was unanimous. We wanted Blair to have the championship ball. We all signed it. Make sure he sees it when he wakes up and tell him to give me a call tomorrow, if he feels up to it."

With a quick wave, Orvelle left the room followed by most of the kids. Joey Hillard stopped in front of Jim, nervously shuffling his feet a little. "Would you give Blair a message for me? Tell him thanks. I think I understand what he was trying to tell me the other night. And will you tell him I'm s-s-s-sorry, for what my dad and uncle did. It was my fault. I should have known what my da..."

Jim interrupted, "Why don't you give him your thanks in person, Joey? I'm sure he would rather hear it from you directly. And Joey, Blair knows you aren't to blame for what your family did. He wouldn't hold it against you. Wait 'til next weekend and give him a call. You can see and hear it for yourself."

Joey thought for a moment, then nodded and walked away.

Simon walked over to where Jim was standing. "I already know the answer to this, but I'll ask anyway. Do you want a ride home tonight?"

"No thanks, Simon. If you don't mind, I'd rather you dropped me off at the police garage where my truck is. The doctor said Blair would be ready to go home in the morning."

"No, I don't want you driving. You're exhausted. I'll have Rafe and Henri drop the truck off in the morning. Don't argue. Go say goodnight to Sandburg. I'll meet you in the parking lot. I need a cigar."