Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly, UPN, Paramount, and The SciFi Channel
Carole
Jim Ellison returned to his seat, coffee mug in hand, and wearily focused his attention back on the computer screen in front of him. Completing another arrest report, he carefully clicked save before opening the next file folder on his desk.
"Hey, Jim!" Brown called, entering the nearly deserted Major Crimes bullpen. "What are you still doing here?"
"Paperwork," Jim answered with a grimace. "What about you?"
"Same thing," Brown admitted, wearing an identical expression, "And both of us without our partners to help out. Hey, isn't Hairboy coming home tonight?"
Jim's face lit up. "Yep."
Brown nodded knowingly. "A little too quiet around the loft?"
Jim shrugged sheepishly.
"I hear it was quite an honor for him to be chosen."
"It was," Jim confirmed with a proud smile. "Rainier usually sends one of the anthropology professors, but this year they picked Sandburg to represent them. He was really excited."
"Yeah, I bet! Of course, that's pretty much Sandburg's normal state of mind!" Brown laughed. "What time is he getting in?"
Jim glanced at his watch, frowning as he realized how late it was. "He should have been back by now."
"Maybe he's at the loft. He could have forgotten to call," Brown suggested.
Jim shook his head. "I've already called home a couple of times."
"You know the airlines, Jim. His flight could have been delayed."
"Yeah, that's probably it," Jim answered absentmindedly, already searching for the airline listing in the phone book.
Blair yawned, gripping the steering wheel tighter with both hands, as he made his way through the almost deserted parking lot. A full day spent at the annual Portland State University anthropology conference had left him weary and more than ready for sleep. He spotted the SeaTac airport toll booth, and was slowly edging forward to take his place behind the only other car in line when he suddenly realized that his parking garage ticket had fallen to the floor of the Volvo. As he reached for the ticket with a groan, he let his foot slide off the brake and felt the slight bump as his car tapped the bumper of the car in front of him.
Relieved that it had only been a light touch, and more than slightly embarrassed, he stuck his head out the window to offer a 'sorry' to the driver ahead of him. He didn't expect to be speared with such a look of hatred. "Come on, man, lighten up. It was an accident, and there's no damage," he muttered in annoyance.
Blair moved up to the toll booth window to pay his parking fee as the black car headed out into the road.
Blair was tapping his fingers on top of the steering wheel in unison to the music's steady beat when he heard the Cascade radio station give the time. He turned off the radio and dug his cell phone out of his backpack with one hand. Hitting the speed dial, he raised the phone to his ear.
"Ellison."
"Hey, Jim."
Blair smiled as he heard a loud sigh of relief come over the line.
"Chief."
"I thought I'd better call you since I'm so late. I didn't want you to worry."
"I was just getting ready to call the airline. Everything okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. My plane was delayed due to the weather. I'm on my way home now."
"I'm just about finished here. I'll wrap everything up and meet you at home."
"Okay, Jim. I'll see you in..." Blair broke off as he glanced into the rearview mirror.
Jim's response was immediate. "What's wrong, Chief?"
"Some idiot is driving too close."
"Back off on your speed so he'll pass."
"That's what I'm doing," Blair reassured him, smiling faintly at the 'big brother tone' in Jim's voice. He blinked in startled recognition as the black car passed, its dome light on. "Jim, I've seen that guy before. I bumped into him at the toll booth."
"What do you mean?"
"My foot slid off the brake and I tapped his bumper. He looked like he was really ticked off about it. You don't think he followed me, do you?"
"Yeah, I do. Sounds like he wants to play games. What's he doing now?"
"He's slowing down in front of me."
"Where are you? On I-5?"
"No, I had to take 99. Northbound I-5 was closed due to an accident. I'm just north of 518."
"Is there anywhere you can pull off safely?"
"No, it's pretty deserted out here, and I don't think there's another exit for a few miles. I could stop alongside the road."
"No, don't do that. Just keep driving and stay on the line. I'll have H call the highway patrol. Can you see the license plate?"
"Yeah, it's a black Cadillac with Washington plates, uh, WDI 126."
Blair could hear Jim repeating the information.
"He's only going forty now. I'm going to try to pass him, Jim." Blair swung the Volvo out around the black car, then pulled back in when it was safe. "Okay, I just passed him."
"What's he doing?"
Blair's eyes darted to the rearview mirror. "Nothing right now. Oh, wait..."
"Sandburg?"
"He's back on my bumper," Blair said after watching the car speed up and move close. The headlights of the car behind him were almost blinding in intensity, and he reached up to reposition the rearview mirror.
As the black car came within inches of his back bumper, Blair stepped on the gas. "I'm up to sixty, trying to stay ahead of him. Looks like he's going to swing around me again. Yep, there he goes. Jim, he definitely knows that it's me. He just gave me a one finger salute."
"Okay, Chief. Just take it easy. Stay calm. The highway patrol is in route."
"He's slowing down in front of me again. He's down to forty, no, thirty-five."
"Slow down and stay behind him. Maybe he'll get tired of his little game and quit."
"He's down to twenty now. This is ridiculous."
"Stay behind him."
"I think he's stopping. Yeah, he's pulling over to the side of the road."
"Good. Wait until he's stopped, then ease out around him."
Blair watched as the black car came to a halt. He hesitated for a moment, then sped up and passed it without a sideways look. "I'm past him now. But he's pulling back out on the road."
"Damn."
"Man, he's moving fast! It won't be long before he catches up to me."
Blair tightened his one-handed grip on the steering wheel.
"What's he doing now?"
"He's hanging back a little. No, here he comes around me." Blair shifted his gaze from the mirror to the road ahead. "Oh, God! There's another car coming!"
Jim jumped to his feet, knuckles tightening around the phone, as he heard the shrill sound of squealing brakes. "Sandburg? SANDBURG?"
Brown looked up in concern to see Jim grabbing his coat.
"H, report an accident just north of that last location!" Jim directed.
"I'm on it," Brown said quickly. "Is Sandburg okay?"
Jim hesitated for a moment, his eyes revealing his fear. "I don't know," he admitted softly. He shook his head, then rushed toward the door.
"I'll come with you," Brown offered, quickly hanging up the phone. He tossed on his jacket and ran after the frantic detective.
Jim sat on the passenger side of the truck, phone in hand, as Brown drove toward the last reported location of their young friend. Every thirty seconds he would hit the automatic redial and then clench his jaw even tighter at the continued lack of response.
"We're almost there, Jim."
Flashing blue and red lights lit up the night sky as Jim focused his sight on the accident scene ahead. Two highway patrol cars were positioned to block on-coming traffic, ambulances were parked next to a twisted tangle of black metal, and a familiar green Volvo was parked haphazardly on the side of the road.
Jumping out of the truck, Jim bolted toward the Volvo as Brown stopped to talk to one of the officers on the scene. Jim's eyes surveyed the interior of the car, noting the damaged cell phone on the floor. As the faint smell of blood reached his nose he closed his eyes, directing his hearing outward until he heard the familiar heartbeat.
"Are you looking for the driver of the..." the young officer's voice trailed off in surprise as he watched Jim quickly whirl to run toward the closest ambulance.
As Jim drew close he was relieved to see Blair sitting on a stretcher in the back. "Chief?" he called softly.
Blair slowly opened his eyes. "Jim?"
"Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?"
Blair winced as he moved his head slightly. "I'm okay."
Jim patted his leg gently, then turned to the paramedic. "How is he?"
"He's a little woozy, but he'll be just fine," she said, putting a butterfly bandage over the small gash.
"Hospital?"
The woman shook her head. "I don't think that will be necessary. Just make sure he gets some rest. He can take acetaminophen for pain. I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a concussion, but if he has any other symptoms..."
Jim nodded. "I know what to look for." He helped Blair to his feet and steadied him. "Come on, buddy. Let's get you home."
"What happened to my car?" Blair asked, watching as Jim pulled back the blanket on the small futon bed.
"I had it towed."
"Oh, man!" Blair moaned. "How bad was it damaged?"
"Crumpled left bumper. That's it."
"Thank God," Blair said in relief as he removed his jeans and shirt. "What about the guy in the black car?"
Jim frowned. "Minor injuries. Last I heard he was on his way to jail."
"Good. That guy definitely has a problem." Blair rubbed his forehead with his fingers.
"Headache?"
Blair sat on the edge of his bed to kick off his shoes. "Yeah," he admitted. "But not too bad."
Jim shook two tablets out of the bottle in his hand. "Here you go," he said, handing him the medicine along with a glass of water. "You need anything else?"
"I'm fine, Jim. Thanks," Blair answered, quickly downing the medicine before curling up on his bed.
"I'm gonna wake you up in a couple of hours," Jim warned him.
"I know," Blair yawned.
"If you need anything..."
"I'll call," Blair mumbled as he closed his eyes.
"Good night, Chief," Jim whispered, smiling affectionately as he pulled the blanket up over his now snoring partner.
~end~
March 2000