by Beth Manz
Jim looked up at him, his jaw clenched tight. "You've already told me that, Riley. Twice." He pushed to his feet, his palms laid flat against the desk. "All I'm asking you to do is put out a description of Blair so your officers at the roadblocks will recognize him. I don't want these guys caught and my partner getting hurt because he's mistaken for one of them."
"But you don't know what the suspects look like. They wore ski masks, right?"
Jim straightened. "That's right."
"So, what if one of those suspects matches the description of your partner and he ends up getting a jump on my men as a result?"
There was something in the way Riley said the word 'partner' that grated at Jim's nerves. "Why am I getting so much flack over this?" he asked, his voice raised in annoyance. "It's a simple request."
Riley gave him a disdainful smile. "Well... Let's just say I have my doubts about Sandburg."
Anger stiffened Jim's back. "What do you mean, doubts?"
"Jim... tread lightly," Simon warned under his breath.
Riley crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Detective, from what
Kendall and some of the people who were inside the bank tell me, your Mr. Sandburg could be involved."
"Involved!" Jim spat out, incredulous. "You can't be serious. He's my partner!"
"But he's not a cop."
"I never said he was a cop." Jim glanced at Simon, saw the anger in the captain's eyes. "I called him my partner--which he is--and the sheriff assumed he was a cop."
"He's been working under my direct supervision at Major Crime for almost four years," Simon added. "We consider him a part of our team. A very trustworthy and valuable part of our team."
"But he's not a cop," Riley said again.
"Okay. Let me get this straight," Jim said, working hard to keep his voice calm. "You think Blair is going to give up his job at the PD and his position at Rainier University so he can join up with a couple of two-bit hoods who can't even manage to rob a small town bank on their own?"
"All I'm saying is I that want to keep an open mind."
"You call this keeping an open mind?" Jim shouted, slamming his hand against the table.
"Detective, we have the roads blocked, an APB out on the vehicle and a major storm front moving in." Riley leaned over the table, his scowl daring Jim to argue with him. "Now, I suggest we all get a good night's sleep and then meet back here tomorrow at 6 a.m. At that point, we can discuss how to proceed further."
"You think I'm going to go back to some room and sleep while my partner is missing?" Jim countered, refusing to back down.
Riley straightened and rubbed at his forehead, shaking his head. Looking over at Jim again, he said, "You do whatever you feel you have to do, Detective. I'll do the same." He leaned over the table again, toward Jim. "But if you do anything to jeopardize or interfere with this operation, I'll slap you--and your captain--with an official reprimand, even if I have to go all the way to Cascade's Chief of Police to do so." With that, he turned and moved back to the other side of the room, joining Kendall and his deputy.
"Take it down a notch, Jim," Simon warned quietly, reaching out and touching lightly at Jim's arm. "Getting Riley angry is not going to help us find Sandburg."
"Nothing is going to help us find Sandburg, sir," Jim hissed out. "Not if we leave this investigation to the state cops and Barney and Goober over there. The way they're handling this, we'll never find Sandburg or the robbers." He ran a hand over his face in frustration. "I don't trust these guys, Simon. They don't care about Blair or his safety. I'm not leaving this in their hands."
"I agree but-"
The captain's words were cut off as Jim's phone rang. The detective pulled it from his pocket, his heart racing in his chest. Because he knew there was only one person who would be calling him now. He moved quickly out of the office as he lifted the phone to his ear. "Blair?" he whispered, careful not let Riley overhear him.
"Jim." Blair's voice came over the line--it was whisper-soft, yet the underlying stress was clearly evident to the sentinel.
"Chief, where are you?"
"I don't know. It was too dark to see any road signs while we were driving. But we're at somebody's summer home, very upscale."
Jim could hear sounds in the background, like cupboards being opened and closed. "What are you doing?"
"I'm looking for something with an address on it."
"Can you see a phone?"
"Yeah, there's a wall phone in here."
"Good! Check it--usually people keep their home number on their phones. I can trace you by the number..."
There was a pause, then Blair's voice came across the line again: "Nothing!"
Jim could hear the escalating worry behind his partner's voice, knew that with each passing second he grew more and more fearful of being caught. "Where are the others now?"
"Sleeping. They started drinking as soon as we got here." Blair sighed heavily. "Jim, man, they're just a bunch of kids. Emily looks like she should be in high school, not out robbing banks."
"Just because they're young doesn't mean they won't hurt you if they catch you." Jim rubbed his forehead. "Sandburg, I want you to get out of that house. Just go to the road and walk until you find a sign or something. Stay on the phone with me, but do that. Now!"
But even as the words left his mouth, Jim detected a second heartbeat coming across the phone line--a second heartbeat interspersing itself with Blair's. And he knew another person was in that room, standing close to his friend.
Before he could call out a warning, Cal's angry voice came across the line. "Hang up the phone!" was all that the robber said. And then the line went dead.
Blair stood with his arms out to the sides, his cell phone still clutched in his right hand. Cal stood behind him, the gun digging deeply into his back.
"Hey man, just relax."
"Who the hell were you calling?" Cal demanded, snatching the phone from his hand.
Blair turned to face him. "My cousin," he said, adding to the lie he had begun in the bank. "Robert. We're roommates and I knew he'd be worried if I didn't come home tonight."
"And you had to sneak into the kitchen to do that?" Cal eyed him suspiciously. "You could have called him any time. All you had to do was ask." His gaze shifted to the open drawers all around him. "What were you looking for?"
Blair licked his lips, trying to come up with some kind of explanation, but his racing mind refused to come up with an answer. "We're all tired--"
"Shut up!" Cal shook his head. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted you." He looked down at Blair's backpack.
Following Cal's gaze, Blair's heart lurched. Quickly, he leaned down and reached for the pack.
"Don't!" Cal warned, keeping the gun aimed at Blair the entire time.
"What's going on in here?"
Blair looked up at the sound of Emily's voice. She and Arnie stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching the scene playing out before them.
"What are you two fighting about now?" she asked wearily.
Cal grabbed the pack and tossed it to Arnie. "Open it up. I want to know what's inside."
"Cal, that isn't yours," Emily complained.
"Open it!"
Arnie set the worn leather pack on the kitchen table and unzipped it. Blair tensed. Arnie raised an eyebrow as he stared in at the contents. "Oh man! He's got a laptop in here."
Emily peeked over the edge. "Really?" She looked over at Blair, smiled. "I always wanted one of those."
"A laptop, huh? You get that from one of those 7-Elevens you knocked over, Blair?" Cal asked, his sarcasm obvious.
Arnie reached inside and drew out a sheaf of papers. He flipped through it, his brow furrowed. "This looks like a speech or something."
"I found that pack," Blair said, unease winding through him. "None of that stuff is mine."
Emily leaned over and rummaged through the backpack herself, pulling out the color brochure for the weekend anthropology
conference. Blair's back stiffened as her gaze traveled over the cover. Dammit.
"What's that, Em?" Cal asked.
"Some kind of a conference brochure." She looked at Blair, her eyes wide, unbelieving. "It says that the featured speaker is Dr. Blair Sandburg."
"Doctor?" Cal moved to his sister and leaned over her shoulder, reading the cover for himself. "You're a doctor?" he ground out, pinning Blair with an icy glare.
Blair's gaze cut from Cal to Arnie to Emily, then back again. "I have my Ph.D.," he admitted finally. "That's what they call you when you have your Ph.D."
"Ph.D.," Emily breathed, her voice filled with awe.
"So you're a Ph.D. who knocks over 7-Eleven's in his spare time, is that it?" Cal took a step toward him, his eyes darkening with anger. "Is that what we're supposed to believe?"
"It's not what you think. I--"
"Shut up!" Cal struck Blair across the face with the butt of the gun, knocking him to his knees. Then, grabbing him by the hair, he yanked his head back and glared down at him. "I ought to kill you right now."
"Cal!" Emily cried out, crossing to them and pulling at Cal's arm. "No!"
Cal shook her off, pressed the gun against Blair's temple. "Tell me who you called."
"My cousin." Blair kept his gaze locked with Cal's. Tried to ignore the barrel of the gun as it pressed harder against the side of his head.
"Oh, man," Arnie whispered.
Blair's gaze cut to him. He could see his wallet in the younger man's hand.
"He's from Cascade," Arnie said, walking over to Cal and showing him the driver's license.
"Cascade?" Cal repeated. He looked down at Blair again, rage burning in his eyes. "You called that cop! That's who you called, isn't it? That cop!" He raised the gun and brought it down, hitting Blair again, across the temple this time.
Blair's head snapped sideways. He could feel warm blood trailing down the side of his face. Blinking hard, he forced back the dizziness that swept in. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the gun rise again.
"Cal! That's enough!" Emily moved to Blair, knelt down beside him. Tried to shield him.
"Don't you see, Emily?" Cal towered over them, his face red with anger. "He told that cop where we are! They're probably coming for us right now!"
"I don't know where we are," Blair bit out. He gestured around the room "That's why the drawers are open. I was looking for an address." He hissed through clenched teeth as Emily probed at the wound on the side of his head.
"You're bleeding," she said softly.
"This is great. This is just great!" Cal paced the length of the kitchen, gesturing wildly with the gun. "We are totally screwed!"
Blair watched him, knowing he was on edge, worried what he'd do next. "Listen man," he began, speaking in deep, calming tones, "Just do what you planned. We stay here for a couple of weeks, then we make a run for the border. Once we're in Canada, you let me go. That doesn't have to change."
"It all has to change now!" Cal exploded. "You called that cop. How do I know they didn't trace that call?"
"I was using a cell phone. They can't trace that."
"He's right," Arnie piped in. "I saw that on TV once."
"Shut up!" Cal barked at Arnie before turning back to Blair. "What'd you tell him?"
"All I told him was that we were in a house."
"Dammit! I wanted them to think we were on the move." He shook his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. "In two weeks, they can do a house to house search. You made it impossible for us to stay here."
Emily looked up at him. "Where are we gonna go?"
"I don't know." He gestured angrily toward Blair. "Why don't you ask Mr. Ph.D. He seems to have all the answers."
"You should give yourselves up," Blair said simply.
Cal marched to Blair, grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet. Then dragging him to the table, he pulled out a chair and forced him into it. Straightening, he turned to Emily and Arnie. "We're going to pack everything into the car and get the hell out of here. We'll find another place to lay low."
"What about Blair?" Emily asked softly.
Cal stared down at Sandburg, his gaze cool, hateful. "I should just kill him."
"Cal--"
"Don't worry," he said, cutting Emily's protest short. "I won't."
Cal moved across the kitchen and pulled the cord from the wall phone. He moved back to Blair. "Put your hands behind your back."
"What--"
"Do it!"
Reluctantly, Blair put his hands behind the back of the chair. Cal wrapped the cord tightly around his wrists, binding them together, then attached the cord to the back of the chair, anchoring him to it. When he was finished, he handed the gun to Emily. "You watch him while Arnie and I pack up the stuff."
Emily perched on the edge of the table, the gun beside her and stared at Blair. "You really a Ph.D.?"
"Uh huh," he answered distractedly, his gaze locked on the gun. If he could just get that weapon, this would all be over. He twisted his wrists. But there was no give in the cord that bound his hands--no leeway whatsoever. Dammit! There's got to be a way out of this! He glanced toward the doorway, could hear Arnie and Cal moving around in the other room, packing up the supplies.
"I thought someday I'd be an astronomer."
Blair turned back to Emily, shaking his head, trying to understand what she was talking about. She sat on the edge of the table, her finger tracing slowly over the brochure she'd found in his pack. "Emily-"
"That's what my dad wanted for me. To go to school and become an astronomer."
And suddenly Blair understood what Emily was talking about. In that moment, he forgot about the gun, about the two men in the next room and just looked at this girl. She'd had hopes, dreams.... and now all of them were slipping away from her.
"Why an astronomer?" he asked softly.
She shrugged one shoulder, a shy smile pulling at her lips. "When I was a little girl," she began, her voice faraway, wistful, "My dad used to take us to some cabins on the lake that's not far from here. Deer Lake, actually--right here in the county." Her smile increased. "Back then, it seemed to take forever when we were driving to the cottages. I used to make my dad nuts asking when we'd get there. My dad always said the same thing to me, 'Emmy, just watch for the seagulls. When you see the seagulls, you'll know we're near the lake.'" She shook her head, laughing lightly at the memory.
"So you looked at the stars with your dad?" Blair prompted.
She nodded. "Right out on the beach. We'd sit in the sand at night and my dad would point out all the constellations to me. He told me that someday, maybe I could study those stars." She let out a long breath. "I haven't thought about that in so long."
"Why didn't you go to school?" Blair asked when she remained silent.
"After my dad died, my mom took off and Cal and I were shipped from one foster home to another. I kind of, I don't know... lost the dream, I guess." She touched the brochure again and Blair could see a misting of tears in her eyes.
"Emily," he said softly. "You can still go to school. Just untie me and give me that gun. I'll call my friend and-"
"We're all packed," Cal announced, crossing into the kitchen, cutting off Blair's plea.
Blair pulled at the cord around his wrists in frustration, knowing he had just lost his best chance at ending this.
Cal dumped the two boxes he was carrying on the table and smiled with satisfaction. "All we've got to do is pack the car and we're out of here."
"Okay," Emily mumbled, her uncertain gaze darting briefly to Blair before settling on her brother.
Arnie came into the room a moment later, dragging two large garbage bags behind him. "You want these in the trunk?" he asked.
"Cal," Blair said, before Cal could answer. "Has your sister ever told you that she'd like to go back to school? Study astronomy? You do this, man, and your sister has no future."
"Easy for you to talk about going to school, Mr. Ph.D.," Cal spit out. "
You had money, breaks. We had nothing."
"I haven't had it any easier," Blair shot back, his gaze challenging. "I've fought and worked hard for everything I've got. And so could she, if you'd only give her a chance."
"I can give her everything she needs."
"She doesn't need you to give her anything. She can earn it on her own. Come on," he pressed, his voice urgent. "Stop thinking about yourself and think about Emily for a change."
"I am thinking about her. She's all I've ever thought about!"
"Then let me help her! Give this up, man, while there's still a chance to get out of this in one piece. Just let me call my friend, Jim."
"The cop?" Arnie asked warily.
"Yes. You turn yourselves in and give back the money and I know you'll get a lot less time. Jim can talk to the DA. Get a sentence recommendation. Then, when you get out, I'll help Emily get into school." He looked at the young woman. "I'm a professor at Rainier University. I'll can help you get into a program there."
Emily stared at him, chewing on her lower lip. Slowly, her gaze shifted to Cal. "Maybe we should do what he says, Cal..."
Cal laughed, but the sound held no amusement. Scooping the gun off the table, he strode to Blair and pressed the barrel of the weapon to his chest. "You say one more thing, make one more suggestion and I'm going to shoot you." He turned his gaze on Emily and Arnie. "We are not giving ourselves up. We're leaving here. Right now."
Emily's gaze cut briefly to Blair. "But it doesn't seem right to just leave him here, tied to the chair."
"No," Cal breathed, "It doesn't, does it? But don't worry, Em. I've got a better idea." He stared down at Blair, his eyes filled with malice. "A much better idea."
Again, Blair strained at the cord holding him in place. A shiver passed through him. What's he going to do to me?
/
/
/
"This is getting us nowhere." Simon peered out through the windshield. The headlights of Jim's truck only cut a minimal swath of light through the darkness. "I can hardly see a thing."
"I can see enough, Simon." The detective's tone was low, matter-of-fact, determined.