by Beth Manz
The steady thrumming of the tires moving across the pavement invaded Blair's mind and he leaned more heavily against his door, the rhythm helping to relax him. His thoughts drifted away as the sound pulsed through him....
"Chief?"
Blair blinked several times as a hand touched his shoulder, shaking him lightly. He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep.
"We're home, buddy."
"Sorry, man. Guess I was more tired than I thought." Pushing out his door, Blair stretched his arms briefly over head, trying to work the kinks out of his back. He reached into the cab for his backpack, then locked and closed the door and followed Jim inside the apartment building.
"Grab the mail, Sandburg. I haven't been home yet today."
Blair made his way over to the mailbox as Jim pushed the button for the elevator. He pulled out the usual stack of bills along with one large manila envelope addressed to Jim. Glancing at the return address, he was surprised to see the name and address of a downtown attorney's office.
"Something I should know about?" he quipped as he stepped into the elevator with Jim and handed him the envelope.
Jim glanced at it briefly then said, "Just some details I'm getting worked out. Nothing to worry about."
Blair nodded as the doors shut and the two men were carried toward the third floor. He touched gingerly at the tenderness around his jaw, trying to ascertain whether the swelling in his cheek had gone down at all.
"You okay?" Jim asked, studying him with obvious concern.
He looked up at his partner and managed a small grin. "Don't worry. I'm fine."
The elevator reached their floor and the doors slid open. Jim strode out in front of Blair. "I'm glad you're all right, Chief," he called back over his shoulder. Reaching the door, he slid his key into the lock, then paused before pushing the door open. He looked down at Blair, who had stepped up beside him. "But I'm telling you right now--if you ever do something like that again, I'll kick your ass."
"You know, you've threatened me with that before," Blair commented nonchalantly as he shadowed Jim into the loft then closed and locked the door behind them.
"Don't point out my faults, Sandburg," Jim warned, heading for the stairs to his bedroom, not even bothering to look at him. "I'll kick your ass for that too."
"Fair enough," Blair chuckled, heading for his own room.
Part Four
Jim sat at his desk in the bullpen putting together the last of the information he would need for the meeting he had scheduled regarding tonight's use of Ryan Collins as a decoy. A quick glance at his wristwatch told him he only had a few minutes before the meeting was to begin. He sighed softly. He still wasn't happy with the idea of using a civilian as a decoy, but it was the only workable plan they had at this point.
He glanced over at his partner's desk. Blair stared at the computer screen before him, glasses perched on his nose, the bruises along his jaw standing out harshly beneath the unforgiving glare of fluorescent lights. His partner was slowly working his way through the possible matches that fit the composite drawing he'd made of Dan Parker's assailant. But Jim had seen the drawing and had to admit to himself that it wasn't much to go on--short dark hair, wide set eyes, thin lips--an unremarkable face by all accounts.
They'd received better news from the hospital. Parker would be released in another day and although Kelso was still unconscious, his condition had been upgraded. He still wasn't quite out of the woods but he was showing marked and steady improvement.
Jim had gone over Jack's statement again just to see if there was something they had missed. But Blair had been right last night--the statement was paper thin. There was nothing else to go on.
He looked up toward the bullpen doors as the elevator opened and Professor Collins wheeled himself out into the corridor, Eli Stoddard beside him. Blair was up and out of his chair in an instant, crossing to his colleagues, pulling off his glasses as he moved.
"Hey, you're right on time," he greeted cheerfully.
As Jim watched Collins, he was struck again with that sense of familiarity. There was something about this man that he couldn't quite place.
Collins wheeled toward him, Eli and Blair at his side. Jim stood and, grabbing his file, gestured toward the conference room. "Why don't we all just head inside and we can begin this meeting as soon as possible."
Within five minutes, Jim had assembled everyone who would be involved in tonight's plan. Blair sat to his immediate left, Collins and Eli beside him. On his right were Rafe, Brown and Tom Brayden, the uniformed police officer who had responded to the first 911 call regarding Jack Kelso. Jim had invited him onto this case in the hopes of bolstering the young man's career. He was a good officer who should have been out of uniform long ago. Jim didn't quite understand why he was still driving a cruiser, but he hoped this assignment would help him somehow. Sitting at the other end of the table, directly across from Jim, was Simon.
Jim stood and handed a folder to Blair. "Sandburg is going to pass out the composite of the man he saw last night along with a diagram of the area we plan to use as our decoy site at Rainier."
Blair handed copies of the pages to every man in the room before taking his seat again. "The man we're looking for is about Sandburg's height and build but with short dark hair. More than likely he'll be wearing a ski mask and gloves. So far he hasn't used any kind of weapon on his victims, but I don't want to rule out that possibility." Jim looked down at his partner. "Anything you want to add, Chief?"
Blair nodded. "Yeah. He's got a hell of a right hook."
Laughter broke out around the table.
"Sandburg, you have got to learn to duck," Brown said, studying the damage to Blair's face.
"Or run faster," Rafe added, laughing.
"Hey, man, he wasn't chasing me. I was chasing him," Blair said in his own defense.
"And that's how you look?" Brown shot back.
"Ha ha," Blair intoned dryly. "You two oughtta take that act on the road."
"Okay, okay," Jim said, chuckling lightly. "Let's get back to business here." He pulled out the diagram. "I've marked where we'll all be set up tonight." He waited until each man had the appropriate paper in front of him before continuing. "There's a sidewalk close to the physical science building that has a covering of bushes nearby. Since Dr. Collins teaches in the psychology building"--Jim indicated a small square on the diagram he held in his hand--"he has to take this sidewalk past the physical science hall to the south parking lot, where he parks his van. That parking lot is almost always deserted on Tuesday nights."
"Scientists don't work on Tuesdays," Blair muttered.
Another spattering of chuckles went up.
"We plan to position ourselves along those bushes," Jim continued. "Sandburg and I will be first in position. When Collins comes around the side of the building, we'll have him in sight until he turns here." Jim pointed to a spot on the drawing where the building curved. "That's where you'll pick him up, Tom."
The young officer nodded, his gaze intent.
"He'll be your responsibility until he reaches this area." Again, Jim referred to the diagram. "He'll be in your sight at that point, Brown. You and Rafe will watch him until he reaches his van."
"What about me?" Eli asked. "Where will I be during all of this?"
"With me," Simon answered from the other end of the table. "We'll be in my car two lots over, listening to the entire thing on headsets."
"We'll all be linked by headsets and mics," Jim added. "I want constant communication between each watch point." He looked at Collins. "You'll have a hidden mic, Dr. Collins, so you can communicate with us. But you won't be able to hear us."
Ryan nodded, his expression serious, a bit anxious. "So I just have to wheel past physical science and toward my van. You'll do the rest."
"We'll do the rest," Jim confirmed.
"And Dr. Collins," Simon said, inserting himself into the conversation once again. "I want you to understand that your safety is our to
p priority here. We want to apprehend this man, but not at the expense of your well-being."
Ryan nodded. "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate that." He looked at the men seated around at the table. "I know you'll all do your best tonight. I just hope he actually makes a move on me."
"Okay," Jim said, spreading his arms wide. "I think we're finished here. We'll assemble again at the meeting point tonight at eight sharp, then we'll move into position."
"All right, gentlemen," Simon said, standing, "back to work. Oh, and Dr. Collins? I'll need you to come with me if you don't mind. A little matter of some papers you'll have to sign...."
The men stood to leave, gathering their notes and taking them along. Tom Brayden approached Jim as the others filed out of the room.
"I just wanted to say thanks," Tom began, his gaze sincere. "You didn't have to include me in this and appreciate the fact that you did."
"You're a good policeman, Tom. You deserve the assignment." Jim clapped him on the back as they started toward the exit together. "I just hope it helps you get whatever position you're trying for."
Tom shrugged one shoulder. "Every little bit helps, I guess." Tucking his folder under his arm, he said, "I'll see you tonight at Rainier."
Jim nodded, watching him as he exited the bullpen.
"You think he'll finally get promoted?"
Jim looked down at his partner, who now stood beside him. "If it were up to me, he would have made detective grade a year ago. But a lot more goes into moving up in the ranks than just being a good cop."
"Politics," Blair muttered. "Hey, Jim," he said, following his partner back to his desk, "I'm going to catch a ride back to Rainier with Ryan and Dr. Stoddard. I have some student conferences scheduled for this afternoon that I can't miss."
Jim slid into his seat, dropping his file on his desk. "How about I come to your office around seven with dinner. Gives us an hour before everyone else arrives."
Blair smiled, already backing toward the exit. "Sounds great.... Just not Wonder Burger, okay?"
Jim laughed as his thoughts turned to the dinner he and Simon had shared at the fast-food restaurant the evening before. "Nah, I'm not really in the mood for Wonder Burger anyway," he told his unsuspecting partner.
/
/
/
Pulling off his glasses, Blair leaned back in his chair and flexed his sore left hand. He'd finished with his students early and spent most of the afternoon reading through term papers, getting ready for the end of the year. But as the day wore on he'd found himself thinking of the plan that would go into action that night, and he'd grown more and more anxious for eight o'clock to arrive.
A soft knock sounded on his door, drawing his attention. He smiled as his partner stepped inside.
"I brought subs," Jim said, holding up a bag for his inspection.
"Perfect," Blair said, clearing a space on his desk for them to spread out the food. "I'm starving."
Jim set a turkey sandwich and a bottle of water in front of Blair before sitting down and pulling out his own steak and cheese sub and a side of onion rings. Sandburg glared at the onion rings before looking up at Jim.
"Don't start with me," Jim warned good-naturedly, raising one hand to forestall a lecture on his choice of dinner. He crumbled the bag the food had come in and tossed it deftly into the garbage can at the side of Blair's desk. "I'm too hungry to argue about my cholesterol level tonight."
"Fine, just don't come crying to me when your arteries harden." As Blair took a big bite of his sandwich, he realized Jim had placed something else on his desk. He squinted at the familiar looking package--it was the large manila envelope he'd pulled from the mailbox the day before, the envelope from the attorney's office. "What's in that thing, anyway?" he asked, nodding toward the mysterious parcel.
"Something I need to talk to you about," Jim said, setting his sandwich down and wiping his hands on a napkin. He hesitated, his hand resting lightly on the envelope. "I don't know if this is the best time to bring this up or not, but I just don't want to wait any longer."
Blair pushed his own food aside and leaned forward against his desk, his hands clasped tightly together. "What's going on, Jim?" he asked, frowning at his partner. "You're starting to scare me here. Is something wrong?"
"No, no, nothing's wrong," Jim assured him quickly. "It's just...well, I've had something on my mind for some time now and I finally got around to taking care of it."
Blair shook his head. "Taking care of what? What are you talking about?"
Jim took a deep breath and leaned forward toward his partner. "Blair, ever since I was shot last year, I've been thinking about what would happen to you if anything were to...well, to happen to me."
"Nothing is going to happen to you," Blair insisted, trying to dismiss Jim's concerns.
But Jim leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Sandburg, in case you've forgotten, Hannah Merrick nearly killed me less than a week ago."
"Of course I haven't forgotten about that," Blair retorted softly. He shrugged and dropped his gaze away from Jim's intense stare. "I just don't like to think about that kind of stuff, that's all."
"Well, we have to think about it. With the kind of work we do, we can't afford not to think about it." Blair didn't raise his eyes to Jim and after a few seconds his partner reached over and touched lightly at the back of his hand. "Chief, we have to plan for the future."
Blair looked up to find Ellison still staring at him, the warm affection in his eyes offsetting the serious expression on his strong features. "Jim, where are you going with this?" he asked the detective. The hesitation in Blair's voice was clear. His gaze shifted away from Jim and down to the envelope again. "What's in that thing? Man, if you brought your will in here--"
"It's not my will," Jim cut in. "It's the deed to the loft." That said, Ellison leaned back a bit and some of the stern determination left his expression. "I had my attorney add your name to it. That way, if anything ever happens to me, you'll get the loft free and clear." Reaching over, Jim picked up the envelope and withdrew a set of papers. "All you have to do is sign." He slid the papers across the desk.
Blair stared down at the document in disbelief. Slowly, he looked up at his partner again. "Jim, do you really think that if something happened to you, my first thought would be who's going to get the loft?"
"No, I don't," Jim responded. "And that's the problem. I know you wouldn't think about it at all, and that scares me." Jim grabbed a pen from atop Blair's papers and held it toward him. "So I've thought ahead for you." He jabbed the pen in Blair's direction, silently urging him to take it. "Just sign, Chief."
"No. I...I can't." Blair pushed to his feet, backing away from his desk.
"Why not?"
"Jim, if I sign those papers, it's like I'm admitting that I expect something to happen to you."
"No it's not." Jim stood and moved around the desk to stand in front of Blair. His hands came to rest easily on Blair's shoulders. "Signing those documents makes us prepared in case something does happen, buddy. It doesn't serve as some sort of omen regarding the future."
Blair shook his head. "I'm sorry, Jim, I really am, but I'm just not comfortable with this. I don't like thinking about something happening to you and even if something did happen...I don't think I should even get the loft. It should be Stephen or your dad."
Jim's hands tightened ever so slightly on Blair's shoulder. "It's our home, Chief. Yours and mine. I'd want you to have it."
"But what if you get married again? Have kids? You'd...you'd want the loft to go to your family."
Jim smiled and shook his head. "Chief, you're my family."
"Jim--"
"And we do have to discuss this," Jim continued, not letting Blair get in another word of argument. "In the last year, I've almost been killed twice, and there was a good possibility for a while there that I might have ended up in jail." Jim's gaze shifted to the papers on Blair's desk, then back to his guide. "This is the only way to en
sure that if something happens to me, you'll still have some place to live."
"I appreciate this, I really do, but...." Blair's voice trailed off as he stared up at his partner. How could he explain to him what he didn't quite understand himself? Logically, he knew Jim was right and he should sign the papers. But in his heart, he still felt somehow that signing the deed was a betrayal, like he was somehow signing Jim's death certificate. "Let me think about this for a while," he said at last. "I just...I can't sign this today. Just give me a day or two to digest it and then I'll let you know. Okay?"
"Okay, Chief." Jim released his shoulders and moved back to his chair. "Let's eat our dinner, then. We have a big night ahead of us."
And as Blair settled back into his seat, he cast furtive glances at his friend--and there was no mistaking the disappointment etched across Jim's face, in the slump of the broad shoulders. Maybe I should just sign, he thought, taking another bite out of his sandwich. He chewed thoughtfully, then dropped the sandwich down into the paper it had been wrapped in. His appetite had suddenly disappeared.
/
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/
"Okay, everyone, heads up. Dr. Collins is coming out of the building." Jim glanced at his partner where he was crouched beside him in the bushes. As Blair turned and lifted the binoculars he held, scanning the area, Jim couldn't help but notice the bold block letters spelling out "Police" that stretched out across his partner's back. Along with the microphone and ear piece, each man on the team wore Kevlar. The bulletproof vest was standard procedure for this type of operation, but Jim had wanted the protection more for Blair than for anyone else. Because he's still a possible target. If this guy's going to shoot at anyone, it will be Sandburg.
"Anything?" Jim questioned softly.
"Nothing," Sandburg muttered, glancing over at the detective.
Seconds later, Collins came into view and Jim checked the area himself, first using his sight, then switching to hearing. Overhead, the nearly full moon reflected dully across the entire scene, casting shadows that crawled lazily up the sides of the buildings. A cool wind rustled through the nearby trees, carrying the sound of youthful laughter and conversation to Jim's sensitive ears. But Blair was right--there was nothing out of the ordinary. They watched as the professor wheeled smoothly past them, his chair gliding almost silently along the pavement. He turned the corner of the building without incident.