by Beth Manz
Disclaimer: The characters depicted within this story do not belong to us, but are the property of Pet Fly, UPN, Paramount and The SciFi Channel. No money has been made from the writing of this story.
Note from the Authors: In our Sentinel universe, the events depicted in "The Sentinel by Blair Sandburg" did not occur. Therefore, any "canonical" references that may be found in this story are related to episodes up to and including "Most Wanted."
Dedication: This series is dedicated to friendship, for only through caring for others can we truly find a sense of peace and belonging.
Out of the Shadows
Part Thirteen of "The Progressions" Series
by Beth Manz
Part One
Blair had the passenger-side door of the truck open before the vehicle had come to a full stop. He was out of the cab and rapidly making his way across the darkened campus even as Jim was putting the Ford in gear and shutting down the headlights and engine.
Quickly, wanting to latch onto his angry and headstrong partner before he was able to reach the crime scene, Jim exited the vehicle, pocketed his keys and jogged after the young man. "Sandburg, would you wait up!"
Blair's steps slowed and he turned to face Jim, walking backward as he waited for his partner to catch up with him. "I can't believe this is happening," he muttered as Jim fell into step beside him.
Jim reached over and placed his hand at the back of Blair's neck. Gently, he propelled the smaller man toward the scene of Jack Kelso's beating, making sure they approached the area at a somewhat slower pace than the one Sandburg had originally set. "I know you're upset over this, Chief," Ellison soothed as they walked, "but you can't go barging angrily onto a crime scene. You know that."
Beneath his hand, Jim felt the younger man slouch a bit, then Blair inhaled a long, deep breath. "I know," he whispered, looking up to glance momentarily at Jim. "I know I shouldn't let my anger take over.... But Jack's my friend...."
"He's my friend, too," Jim reminded him. "And because of that, we need to be extra careful here. We don't want to scare off any witnesses by showing up and demanding answers. Agreed?"
Blair was silent for a moment, then he looked up at Jim again. "Yeah, you're right," he conceded softly. He spread his arms and looked up at Ellison beseechingly. "I just can't believe this happened, that's all. I mean, what kind of person would do something like this?"
"You know I can't answer that. I wish I could, but I can't." Jim dropped his hand from Blair's neck and grasped gently at the younger man's arm, bringing him to a stop. He moved up to face his partner. "Chief," he began, placing his hands on Blair's shoulders, "I know this is hard for you. But right now we have to put aside our personal feelings and look at this from a professional point of view."
"I know, I know," Sandburg agreed, fidgeting where he stood. "It's just that it makes me so mad...."
"I understand that. But I need you to temper your anger with some objectivity for a little while--at least until we're finished here. Can you do that?"
Blair nodded. "Yeah, you know I can."
Jim smiled warmly and squeezed at Blair's shoulders. "Never doubted it for a minute," he assured his friend.
Looking across at the small group of people gathered in the distance, Ellison saw that yellow police tape had already been strung around the crime scene. Guiding Blair forward, Jim stepped ahead of the smaller man, lifted the yellow marker, and allowed his partner to pass underneath. He followed close behind Sandburg and together they stepped up to Tom Brayden, the uniformed officer who had been the first to respond to the 911 call.
"Brayden," Jim greeted Tom, "what do you have here?"
Tom nodded to acknowledge Jim and Blair, then motioned toward a couple of young women who were huddled together, talking softly. "Those two girls over there were walking back to their dorm when they heard a commotion. They ran toward the noise and saw Mr. Kelso being attacked by a man. One of them had a cell phone and they called the attack in, then waited for me to arrive. I asked them to stick around; I knew you'd want to talk with them as well."
Jim nodded. As always, Tom had done an excellent job securing the scene. They'd caught a break in the fact that he had been the officer to respond first. "Has Serena found anything?"
"Not so far. She's waiting to talk with you as well."
"Thanks, Tom," Jim said, reaching out to clap the man on the shoulder. He moved around Brayden and stepped up to the area where Jack Kelso had been attacked--a patch of lawn totally obscured from view of the main campus by several tall rhododendron bushes. On the trampled grass lay Kelso's wheelchair--metal and vinyl attestation to the vicious nature of Jack's assault. The chair was turned on its side, its frame slightly bent, the stainless steel chassis gleaming garishly beneath the bright lights that had been set up by Serena's crew.
"Oh, man," Blair mumbled as he stared down at the chair.
"Kelso was conscious when I got here," Tom spoke up from behind the two men. The young officer stepped up to stand beside Blair. "I know he's a friend of yours, Blair. I'm sorry about this."
Blair nodded wearily and asked, "Was he...you know...badly injured?"
"I don't think so. Pretty bruised up of course, and he was complaining of some pain in his lower side, but he was lucid and able to answer all my questions."
"All right," Jim said, pulling a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, "give Sandburg and me a few minutes to look over the scene, then I'll talk with the young ladies."
"You got it." Tom turned and made his way to the two coeds who had happened upon the attack.
Jim used his heightened senses to sweep the area, but after several minutes he gave up in disgust. "There's nothing out of the ordinary here," he complained to Blair. He motioned Serena over. "Did you find anything, Serena?"
"Nothing," the forensics chief answered. "We're taking the chair in to dust for fingerprints, but I'm not optimistic. The girls who witnessed the attack said the assailant was wearing a ski mask. I'm assuming he probably had the foresight to wear gloves as well."
"I'm sure you're right," Jim agreed. He ran his hands back across his hair in a gesture of frustration. "All right," he said finally, "just let me know what you find."
Serena nodded. "My report will be on your desk in the morning."
Jim put his hands on his hips and chewed thoughtfully at his lower lip as he surveyed the crime scene again.
"Jim?" Blair asked from beside him.
The young man's voice broke the detective's reverie; he straightened and looked down at his partner. "It's nothing. I was just hoping we'd find at least some evidence." He shook his head. "Come on," he said finally, reaching around to guide Blair forward. He gestured in the direction of the two coeds. "Let's go see if our witnesses can tell us anything that might help us catch this guy."
/
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/
"It was so dark," Myra Landry told Blair, toying nervously with her shoulder length auburn hair. Sandburg knew Myra--she was a sophomore who had been in his physical anthropology course last term. A good student if I remember correctly. But he didn't recognize the girl with her.
"Kim and I yelled when we saw what was happening," Myra continued, glancing briefly at her trembling friend. "The man looked right at us, then ran off. But we tried to get a good look at him."
"Without getting too close, of course...." Myra's friend--Kim, she'd called her--chimed in. "It was so...awful!"
"I'm sure it was." He reached over and placed his hand on Myra's arm. "But you both did the right thing. You called in for help and you didn't get close enough to
get hurt."
"Do you think Mr. Kelso is going to be all right?" Kim asked breathlessly, wringing her hands as she glanced over at the area where the attack had taken place.
"I'm sure he will be," Blair told her.
"What, if anything, can you tell us about Mr. Kelso's assailant?" Jim asked from beside Blair.
Myra shrugged. "Like we told the other officer, he had a ski mask pulled across his hair and face, so we don't know what he looked like. And it was too dark to tell what color his clothes were."
"Height? Build?" Jim prompted, his pencil poised expectantly above the note pad he held in his hand.
The girls thought for a moment, then Kim spoke up: "He was average build, not too tall."
Myra looked at Blair. "Like you, Dr. Sandburg," she stated, her voice quiet but confident. "He was built like you."
/
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/
"I really can't tell you much more than what Kim and Myra already have," Jack Kelso told Jim and Blair, his voice raspy and groggy from the pain medication he'd been given. "It all happened so fast. One second I'm moving along, thinking about an upcoming project I'm going to be supervising, and the next thing I know I'm on the ground and a man is hitting me in the ribs and the face."
Beside him, Blair let out a deep sigh, and Jim brought his hand up to rest lightly at the small of Sandburg's back.
Ellison turned his attention back to the man in the hospital bed. Jack looked rough--he'd suffered two cracked ribs, a sprained wrist and some rather deep bruising across his face and upper torso. But according to the doctor Jim had spoken to, Jack was going to be all right. He would be kept in the hospital overnight for observation, but would be allowed to go home tomorrow.
"Did the man say anything to you?" Jim asked. "Threaten you? Make any kind of slurs against you?"
"Not that I remember." Kelso shook his head, wet his lips briefly. "No, I'm sure of it. He didn't say a word."
Jim sighed. "I hate to tell you, Jack, but we have virtually nothing to go on at this point. Unless we get some prints off your chair--"
"You won't," Jack interrupted softly, shaking his head again. "He wore gloves. That much I remember. Leather or vinyl...not cloth." He grimaced, shifted a bit in his bed, then smiled apologetically. "I'm sure that doesn't help much."
"Not at this point, maybe, but you never know--it might become important somewhere down the line."
"There is something I should tell you," Jack said wearily. He glanced briefly at Sandburg before returning his gaze to Jim. "As Blair knows, I just got back from visiting a friend of mine who was attacked on the University of Washington campus."
"I'm familiar with those cases," Jim told him.
Jack nodded. "What happened to me tonight is almost a carbon copy of what happened to my friend. Right down to the ski mask and gloves." The former CIA operative stared up at the two men. "I have no proof, of course, but I'm positive we're dealing with the same man."
"But why would the attacker switch campuses?" Blair jumped into the conversation.
Jim shrugged. "Any number of reasons, Chief. Maybe he thought he was close to being caught in Seattle. Or maybe it's going to be his MO to strike a few times on one campus, then move to another. There's really no telling what motivates this type of person."
"Could it be a copycat?" Blair asked.
Jim thought on that for a moment, then shook his head. "That's always a possibility, but I tend to agree with Jack. Call it a hunch or a cop's instinct--but I'm sure we're dealing with the same man who attacked the three people in Seattle."
Beside him, Blair sighed out heavily. "Then if that's the case, there will probably be more attacks at Rainier...."
"I'm afraid that's a very real possibility," Jim answered.
A troubled silence descended as the three men considered the ramifications of Jim's statement. Then, after several long moments, Blair looked up at Jim. "We should probably go...." he suggested softly, "...let Jack get some rest."
Jim nodded, then smiled down at Jack. "You take it easy, Kelso. Cracked ribs are nothing to mess around with."
Jack mustered a tired grin. "I'll be sure to be on my best behavior." His eyes slipped closed for a moment, then he opened them again and stared up at Jim, his expression troubled. "Jim...would you work with Suzanne Tamaki? Make sure Rainier's disabled students and staff are made aware of the possible dangers...."
"You got it," the detective promised. "I'll meet with her tomorrow."
Part Two
Blair sat at his desk in the bullpen, typing up the statements regarding the attack that had occurred last evening. As he typed the information into the computer, his back stiffened, his body tensed. He shook his head slightly as he tried consciously to relax his taut muscles. He knew the problem, knew the reason for his unease--no matter how long he was exposed to the violence of society, he could never get used to it, could never get to a point where it didn't continue to affect him on some level.
I'll never be able to turn off my emotions the way Jim does.
He looked over and studied his partner. Ellison sat only a few feet away, his body bent over his desk, one hand holding his phone to his ear while the other rubbed slow, methodical circles in the skin at his temple. Blair frowned, saved the file he'd been working on, and tuned into the conversation Jim was having with the Seattle Police Department.
"That's right.... Could you send it right away?.... Yes, that's our fax number; I'll be waiting for it."
As Blair watched, Jim hung up the phone, but the hand at his temple kept up its steady massage. Standing, Blair moved over to the detective's desk and positioned himself on the edge. "Hey," he said softly, "you getting a headache?"
Jim dropped his hand, sat back wearily in his chair, and looked up at his partner. "No," he admitted, "I'm just a bit frustrated, that's all."
Blair nodded. Jim wasn't quite as good at turning off his emotions as he pretended to be. Especially when a case involves a friend.
Jim looked over as the fax machine beeped and began receiving a document. "That'll be the stuff from Seattle," he told Blair.
"Were they able to help you at all?"
Jim shook his head and leaned more heavily against the chair at his back. He reached up and locked his hands behind his head. "Nope. They're sending us several pages of witness reports and the usual documentation that goes along with an investigation, but the detective over there basically told me that they have nothing concrete to go on at this point." He sighed heavily. "Looks like they know as little about this guy as we do."
"So what do we do next?"
Jim sat forward, clasping his hands together in his lap. "We wait for that fax to finish coming in, we continue searching the database for felons who've committed similar crimes, then this afternoon we head over to Rainier and meet with Suzanne."
"You've already talked with her?" Blair asked.
Jim nodded. "We have an appointment at one o'clock. Will you be free to go with me?"
"I'm yours for the entire day," Blair offered grandly, spreading his arms in a dramatic gesture of liberality.
"Oh, good," Jim replied dryly, the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, "because one of us is going to have to read through all the material the Seattle PD is sending over...from beginning to end."
Blair snorted as Jim's meaning hit him and he reached out to poke at Jim's chest. "Well, as the lead detective on this case, I guess that'd be you, now wouldn't it?"
Jim stood and grinned down at Sandburg. Reaching out and tapping him playfully on the sides of the face, Jim said, "Wrong again, Kimo Sabe. As lead detective, I get to enjoy the summarized version--the one you're going to give me." The detective chuckled when Blair rolled his eyes and gave him a look of feigned disgust. "So rustle up your glasses, Chief. You've got some exciting hours of reading ahead of you."
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/
Jim stood beside Suzanne Tamaki on the raised platform that fronted Rai
nier's massive Wagner Auditorium. Before them sat several department heads and student affairs leaders from the university's extensive staff. And on the front row, side by side and listening with intense interest, sat Blair and Dr. Eli Stoddard.
"Lastly," Jim spoke into the microphone, "I think it's important to remember that among the staff at Rainier you'll probably have no problems instituting the measures Ms. Tamaki and I have outlined today. Most disabled staff members will be more than happy to use the buddy system and ask for escorts to their classes or cars after dark." Jim paused and leaned further forward. "But you have to keep in mind that your students may be a different matter. Young people tend to think they're invincible, that bad things only happen to other people. So please--urge your professors and staff members to make it absolutely clear to their students that this buddy system is necessary." That said, the detective stepped back and motioned Suzanne forward.
"All right, ladies and gentlemen," Suzanne spoke into the microphone. "I know you must have many questions. I'll attempt to answer them to the best of my ability...."
As Suzanne opened the meeting to questions, Jim made his way down the stairs at the side of the platform. He caught Blair's eye and the young man stood. Eli stood as well and walked with Sandburg toward the side exit where Jim was waiting. Together, the three men exited the auditorium and turned in the direction of Hargrove Hall, where Blair's university office was located.
"Do you think this buddy system will work, Jim?" Eli asked.
"I hope so," the detective answered. "Right now there isn't much more the PD can do to offer protection. We'll post some officers on campus for the next few weeks, but they won't be able to cover every square inch. It's really going to be up to the staff and students to protect themselves by pairing up with someone who isn't disabled."
"Blair, you have a couple of disabled professors with offices in Hargrove Hall, don't you?" Eli asked.
Blair nodded. "Ryan Collins in the Psychology department and Marissa Little in Physical Anthropology. But Marissa only teaches part-time and only during the days, so she probably won't need an escort. I'll talk with Dr. Collins before I leave campus this afternoon, though--make sure he knows I'm available to walk him to his car on the evenings I teach."