Disclaimer: The Sentinel concept and its characters are owned by Pet Fly Productions, UPN, and other entertainment industry folks who make way too much money to benefit from a copyright infringement suit against me. `Thanks to my Betabrat, Nita, for all your work on this. Your suggestions helped more than I can say. You're the best!
Rating: R for language and adult situations
P.B.
Jim Ellison knew this wouldn't be an easy case to stomach. Missing children always triggered a protective response in him. It was not unlike the chord that was struck whenever his guide was threatened. Small children, elderly people, and Blair Sandburg all seemed a little more prone to calamity than the average citizen. Jim smiled at the thought of just how much trouble Sandburg could get into with little or no effort. The smile faded quickly, though, when his eyes focused on the man in Simon Banks' office. "That must be the father," he thought, with a sigh, as he approached the door to the office.
"Come in," Simon responded after Jim's knock sounded. "Jim, I'd like you to meet Mr. Gavin Armbruster." Jim extended a hand as Simon continued. "Mr. Armbruster, this is Detective Jim Ellison. He's the one who will be heading up the investigation into your daughter's whereabouts."
"Detective Ellison," Armbruster said, as he returned the firm handshake with equal pressure. "Captain Banks has assured me you're his best officer. I'm at my wit's end here, and I'm putting myself in your hands. Whatever it takes to get my little girl back, I'll do without hesitation." He was looking at the two police officers in front of him with pleading eyes.
"Sir, I'm sure Captain Banks has told you, we'll do everything in our power to get your daughter back to you." Jim tried to make his voice sound calm and reassuring, but he wasn't sure about his ability to do anything in this case. The leads were so vague; they weren't even sure she was in Cascade.
Megan and Gavin Armbruster had enjoyed a seemingly idyllic marriage until quite recently. He was a prominent Wall Street lawyer with a prestigious pedigree, and she filled her position as trophy wife with grace and elegance. They were, by all accounts, the perfect couple. Of course, all good things must come to an end, especially when built on a platform of superficiality and studied indifference of the rules that pertained to "the masses."
Three weeks prior to the kidnapping, a judge, who was a friend of the family, had quietly signed a court order, and Megan had been committed to a posh rehab facility for serious drug and alcohol addicts. When she escaped, her first act was to abduct her child from the elite day school the little girl attended. That was when the manhunt had ensued. Unfortunately, due to the massive reward Armbruster had issued for his child's return, there had been sightings reported all over the country. The FBI didn't have the manpower to fully investigate them all, so they were relying on local law enforcement agencies wherever feasible.
Gavin Armbruster had chosen to follow up on this lead personally because the sighting had been reported by a retired FBI field officer from the Seattle Bureau. He had been told by the local FBI officials that Captain Banks and his team had an excellent record. Detective Jim Ellison's name had also been mentioned, and Armbruster had intended to ask that this man be included on the team. Banks had beat him to the punch on that one. The captain had begun laying out a game plan for Armbruster that included Ellison as soon as the introductions were finished. The tycoon could see why this police captain had earned the respect of the local bureau agents. He was all business, and he knew his field well.
Ellison seemed the epitome of confidence and stalwart strength as he met with Armbruster and Banks in the captain's office. His tall, solid build suggested the ability to move mountains to attain his goal if necessary. He had more than just a physical presence, though. There was a better than average intellect shining behind those steely blue eyes. No wonder this man had a great track record. He was the perfect combination of brains and brawn in one individual, and that individual was determined to help find Gavin Armbruster's missing child.
"Mr. Armbruster..." Jim began.
"Gavin, please, Detective Ellison," Armbruster requested. "You, too, Captain Banks. We're going to be working closely together to find my daughter. There's no need for formalities with me." He sat down heavily in a chair by the table and rubbed a hand over his haggard face. There was a cup of water on the table already, and he took a drink.
"Thanks, Gavin. Why don't you call us Simon and Jim while we're at it," the captain offered. Simon was seated behind his desk, absently rotating a cigar between his thumb and forefinger, trying to manage a reassuring smile.
Jim half-sat on the corner of Simon's desk with his left foot dangling free and his right, still firmly planted on the floor. He leaned forward slightly, and his face became serious. "Gavin, I need you to tell me anything you can about your wife's state of mind, and why you think she might have come to Cascade." Jim was hoping he could jog Armbruster's mind about a long-lost relative or a favorite childhood vacation spot of Megan's that would give them some kind of lead as to her whereabouts.
"Her state of mind is anybody's best guess, right now. The substance abuse problem has caused some delusional behavior, and her doctors aren't sure it will cease to exist even if she's no longer ingesting those poisons." Gavin paused for a moment to take a drink of water and a deep breath before continuing his explanation.
"She's obviously still affected by the delusions if she's on the run. She would have called me otherwise." He decided to explain when he saw the confused looks passing between Jim and Simon.
"Megan is under the impression that I have been molesting our daughter. She said she actually saw me doing this. Now, gentlemen, there is no way I would ever touch my child like that."
Jim interrupted at this point to ask with a frown, "Is there anything she could have seen that she might have mistaken for molestation? If she was under the influence, any number of things might have looked suspicious to her."
"I don't think so." Gavin shook his head. "You see, my wife was sexually abused, herself, as a child. Her father was the abuser, and I believe that she has cast me in that role and our daughter is serving as a surrogate for Megan in this twisted, drug-induced fantasy of hers. I offered to take our little girl to a doctor and have her examined. I wanted to prove to Megan that I hadn't done anything, but she said it wouldn't prove anything to her. She said she knew what she had seen, and that I'd only buy off any doctor I could find. Hell, I even offered to let her choose the doctor, but she wouldn't hear of it."
"Is that offer still open, just in case we want her examined?" Jim asked evenly. He didn't want to come off as accusing if the man sitting before him was innocent, but he wanted to gauge Armbruster's reaction to the question.
"Absolutely," was Gavin's unequivocal reply.
Jim had opened his senses and cataloged the man's responses: even breathing, steady heart rate, no perspiration-no changes in any of the standard biological markers. It wasn't proof, but it made Gavin's story look pretty believable. Jim was convinced.
"How did this get so far out of hand?" Simon queried, leaning forward in his chair, putting his elbows on the desk in front of him. "Weren't there warning signs? The kind of permanent brain damage you're talking about usually only happens after years of abuse."
"Usually, yes," Gavin nodded, then explained. "Unfortunately, my wife was using some rather potent new designer drugs. I'm not sure how lasting the effect will be or how extensive the damage is because her doctors aren't even sure. Of course, it didn't help matters that she never appeared to have even an alcohol problem, let alone drugs. Megan never drank in front of people--if you asked any of our friends, they would tell you she never touched alcohol. No one had any idea that she was consuming vast quantities of it in private, while I was at work."
Gavin took another swallow of his water and sighed deeply before going on in a subdued, pained voice. "I guess I neglected her. I should have spent more time at home with my family. Before all this happened, making senior partner in my law firm was the most important thing in life to me. I was so stupid." He punctuated his statement by slamming his hand on the table in front of him. "I left my wife alone in a big house we should have been enjoying together. Instead, she saw it as a prison, and she used drugs and booze to escape. Now she's gone, and so is my baby. That senior partner slot just doesn't have the allure it once did," he finished, with more than a hint of sarcastic self-loathing in his tone.
Simon's first thought as Gavin finished speaking was that he needed to call his son and tell him he loved him. His next was that he would be in Hell if he were living this man's life.
"Can you think of a reason for her to come to Cascade?" Jim repeated his earlier question. He didn't see any need for this clearly distraught father to wallow in his own guilt anymore. He hoped this would help the man focus on something constructive. "Honestly, I can't think of anything that would draw her here. I don't know what she could be doing." Gavin was at as much of a loss as the police on that question. He had racked his brain for reasons, and had drawn a blank.
"It's all right, Gavin, we'll figure it out, and we'll get her back." Jim hoped he could make good on that statement.
Jim arrived home to a darkened loft. Thinking his roommate had gotten held up at the university, he did a quick sweep of his home and was surprised to find the familiar heartbeat present. He looked toward the sound and glimpsed Blair Sandburg standing on the balcony, apparently lost in thought. Jim could hear the sounds of muffled crying and smell Blair's salty tears. He was torn between the urge to offer comfort to his friend and the idea that his partner might just want privacy. So he stood in the living room, his face a mask of indecision, hoping his guide would give him a sign.
Blair had heard Jim enter the loft, and had resisted the urge to make the contact he so desperately needed. He didn't know how his partner would react. For all of Jim's comfortable, good-natured casual touching, he had only held Blair once in the whole time they had been working together. Sandburg shuddered when he thought of the incident with the hallucinogen known as Golden. After the drug dealers sent that Golden-laced pizza to the precinct, Blair had almost died. He still remembered Jim holding him close while they waited anxiously for the paramedics to arrive. However, getting a hug when you're dying and getting one just because you're upset are two different things. Blair opted not to go for the comfort of his friend's embrace, and he walked through the balcony doors into the loft.
"Jim, do you remember last year, when I told you about the offer from Dr. Stoddard--the trip to Borneo that I turned down?" Blair sat on the arm of the couch as he spoke, his face a study in gloom, and Jim took up residence on the cushion closest to him.
"Chief," Jim heaved a sigh before he could continue. He was afraid that another offer might now be waiting in the wings, and that was the cause of his friend's emotional turmoil. They had been through a lot in the last year, since Blair had refused Eli Stoddard's research assistantship. He didn't know if he could handle losing the kid to another great opportunity, but he didn't want Blair to miss out on anything else out of a sense of loyalty to his sentinel. He decided to be honest about his feelings and let the chips fall where they may. "There's no way I could ever forget about that--not after one year, or ten years. I know I never actually asked you to stay, or even told you how much I appreciated your decision, but it meant the world to me that you were willing to give up something so important to your career for nothing other than our friendship. I want you to know that I can do the same for you." He filled his lungs with air and let it out slowly, as if mentally gearing up to impart some bad news, then closed his eyes and said the hard part. "If you've gotten another offer like that, I want you to take it. You've made a hell of a lot of sacrifices for me, and I want to return the favor. I don't want you to leave forever, but..."
"Jim," Blair interrupted, wide-eyed and stunned by his roommate's gesture of selflessness, but wanting desperately to ease the man's mind. "It's nothing like that, man. I'm not going anywhere." Then his face fell as he tried to find the words to tell his friend the cause of his distress. "The Anthro department just got word today that the plane carrying Dr. Stoddard and his assistants back from the expedition crashed in the Pacific Ocean. Rescue efforts were hampered by violent storms in the area. They don't expect to ever find any survivors." Jim had moved to stand next to the sofa arm on which his guide was perched. Blair looked up with tears welling in his eyes and saw a like expression in the face of the sentinel. He then voiced what both men were thinking. "Jim, if I had gone on that trip..." He was cut off when a pair of beefy arms suddenly wrapped themselves tightly around his shoulders, and his face was pressed into a hard expanse of pectoral musculature. Wholly unconcerned with any stupid macho discomfiture, Jim had initiated the embrace, and he wasn't giving up his stranglehold on his best friend anytime in the near future.
Now, Blair Sandburg was locked in an embrace with another man. He mused that he would probably have balked if it had been anyone else, but this was Jim. When had this big, gruff police detective become the big brother he had always longed for and never expected to find? Blair didn't know the exact answer to the question, but he knew that this indestructibly strong brand of fraternal affection had saved his life. It had kept him off that doomed plane with Stoddard and the others, and it would be the compass he would use to guide him in the future.
Jim knew he was crushing the kid in his arms, but he just couldn't get the image of the downed plane out of his head. All he could focus on was the idea that this enigmatic little bundle of energy he depended on so much could have been lost to him forever. It was only supposed to be a year, but the year had become the rest of their lives for all the people on board the ill-fated expedition charter. He knew he should let Blair go, but he was almost zoning out on the assault to his senses that this near-miss was causing.
The detective had the kind of relationship with Blair that he had only dreamed of having with his own brother, Steven. The young anthropologist had become friend, brother, confidante, and partner all in a little over two years time. Jim felt as though he had trusted Blair all his life. He admitted to himself that he should tell his young friend how much he meant to him more often, but he just wasn't accustomed to expressing his more tender emotions to anyone, let alone someone who liked to dissect everything to death. Maybe this time Jim could let go a little and give the kid a glimpse at the massive space he occupied in the big detective's closely guarded heart.
Jim finally released the vice-like grip he had maintained on his willing captive, and was about to voice the feelings he had been holding in when the phone rang. He strode over to the kitchen counter and picked up the portable phone. "Ellison," he quipped. After a brief pause, he handed the phone to Blair with a sly grin. Believing this soft female voice to be one his roommate's numerous romantic conquests, he tuned down the dial on his hearing and walked out to the balcony to indulge in a little fresh air while providing his friend with a modicum of privacy. He knew Blair didn't have much of that, living with a sentinel. That's why he had put the doors on the kid's room. It at least provided the illusion of privacy in an apartment where even a change in the rhythm of Blair's own heart wasn't a secret from his roommate. Jim didn't know how his friend would react if he knew the cop actually focused on Blair's heartbeat to help him sleep at night. "It would probably embarrass the kid," he thought, with a slightly wistful grin. Jim knew he probably shouldn't use the heartbeat as a crutch, but it was such a comforting sound, and it made him feel secure to be able to keep tabs on his guide's welfare during the night.
It wasn't a good idea to get used to focusing on something that wouldn't always be there, but...he shuddered as that thought brought back the discussion he had just shared with the object of his reverie. He didn't mind the thought of Blair leaving to get married and have a family. Hell, he relished the idea of being around to play "Uncle Jim" to Blair's brood of precocious moppets. Jim had to chuckle a bit at the thought of his frenetic roommate chasing around a gaggle of little curly-haired, blue-eyed Sandburg progeny. There was no fear related to Blair leaving him for a wife and children, but the plane crash.... He just didn't want his dearest friend to disappear from his life forever. He could deal with losing the young man as a roommate, but the concept of losing him altogether was simply unthinkable. So he decided to focus on the here and now, and let the future take care of itself. If it worked for Scarlett O'Hara, it would do quite nicely for Jim Ellison. He couldn't help the rueful smile that crept onto his face at that thought. The balcony door opened behind Jim, and he turned a questioning glance on his friend as he asked, "New girlfriend, Chief?"
"Uh, no, man, just a friend. Listen, Jim, I have to go out for a little while. I hate to leave such an intense discussion just hangin' in the air like that, but this really can't wait." Blair really didn't want to leave Jim, but this was a no-choice situation. An old and dear friend was in serious trouble, and he had to go help. His big blue eyes begged Jim to understand.
Jim just waved him off with a smile that spoke of infinite patience. "Don't worry about it, kiddo. I'll still be here when you get back--unless you want me to come with you." He cast an inquiring glance in the smaller man's direction. Blair smiled, but declined, shaking his head.
"Nope, definitely not your scene, man. See you later." He was out the door before Jim had a chance to ask why it wasn't his scene. The detective in him bristled a little with concern, but he knew he could trust Blair not to be involved in anything illegal. The kid probably just didn't want his friends to be intimidated by the big guy with the buzz cut and military bearing. With that thought, Ellison decided to grab a beer from the fridge and settle down to whatever he could find on TV.
Blair parked the car and sat for a moment inside, staring and frowning at the burned-out shell of a building in front of him. He hadn't been back to the warehouse he used to call home since it had blown up almost two years ago. He had collected all of his things and moved, lock, stock, and Larry into Jim's loft. He snickered when he thought about Larry, the Barbary ape that had been his research project. Jim had been reluctant to let them move in, but Blair had persisted and had gotten his way. He found he had a real knack for getting his big friend to do what he wanted. That thought brought a wistful smile to play across his expressive features.
When Larry proceeded to trash the loft and vanish, Blair just knew he'd be out on his ass by nightfall, but he was still around for breakfast the next day. The thought made him grin, fondly. Fortunately, everything worked out for the best. He completed his research project with another subject--a very sweet orangutan with a predilection for John Wayne movies. Larry was found and returned to his cage in the lab after trashing the loft a second time, and Blair found a permanent place to call home.
Now, here he was, revisiting the site of his former residence.
He got out of the car and made his way inside the remains of the fire-ravaged warehouse, looking for a sign that his reason for making this trek was around. Suddenly, he heard a noise and turned, finding himself face to face with Megan Armbruster.
"Megs, are you okay?" Blair asked, knowing it was an inane query, given her situation. He knew he had to say something, but he just needed to get an intellectual and conversational foothold before he could start climbing the sheer granite face of this particular mountain of trouble. However, genuine concern showed on his face and she responded to it.
"I will be, if you're willing to help me," Megan began, walking over and placing her body in the secure confines of Blair Sandburg's outstretched arms. Those arms encircled her, providing shelter and sanctuary. Blair knew he needed to ask questions and formulate some sort of plan, but he couldn't disengage himself from the small figure clinging to him like a drowning woman to a life preserver.
Megan Armbruster was a very petite brunette, with large doe-like brown eyes, a slightly upturned nose, and full lips. Because of her size and delicate bone structure, she had a deceptively fragile appearance. She was actually quite strong and possessed of seemingly boundless energy. However, at the moment her spirit seemed deflated. She was a woman on the run, with a child, and a reward on her head. She had used up the last of the energy in her reserve days ago, and was now relying on Blair's strength just to remain standing. So he held her, silently, wondering how she had come to this point in her life.
After what seemed like an eternity, Megan looked up at Blair and smiled warmly. "I suppose you'd like an explanation?" she asked, moving out of his arms and taking a step back.
"Well, I know part of the story." At her quizzical expression, he sighed deeply, and let the other shoe drop. "Megs, my roommate, the guy who answered the phone when you called, is a detective with the Cascade PD. I almost lost my breakfast this morning when he told me about your case, and that your husband was coming here. It was obvious he didn't know you knew me." Fortunately, Blair had been drinking coffee at the time Jim told him, so he was able to pass off the increased heart rate and trouble breathing as a by-product of the choking fit he'd experienced when he inhaled the beverage.
"Oh, my God, Blair! You didn't tell him..." she began, her voice rising frantically, as her fear crested.
"No," he answered, soothingly, attempting to calm her. "No, I didn't, but I think you might want to consider doing that yourself." He put up a hand and shook his head to forestall her objections. "I'll reserve judgment until after I've heard your side of the story. I just want you to think about talking to him." He pulled up a couple of reasonably sturdy looking crates and gestured for her to seat herself on one while he perched on the other. "Now, tell me what's going on."
Megan proceeded to explain to her old friend that she had caught her husband molesting their four-year-old daughter one afternoon when she arrived home earlier than expected from a charity function. According to her, Gavin had immediately called in a few favors and had her forcibly committed to a local rehab facility for severely recalcitrant alcoholics and drug addicts. She was restrained and medicated, and no one would listen to her accusations against her husband. She was isolated in a closed ward and wasn't given access to phones or other available communication devices. Gavin had essentially imprisoned her until he could figure out a more permanent solution to deal with her.
As she spoke, Blair allowed himself the luxury of finally taking in her appearance and demeanor. She looked dreadful. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, presumably from crying, and her cheeks were sunken. Blair knew she probably wasn't eating right. He vowed he'd bring food on his next visit, and mentally chided himself for not thinking of it this time. Her hands kept clutching nervously at her skirt to keep from shaking too visibly, but Blair noted the tremors, anyway. Her voice also shook as she recounted her travails, and her eyes kept darting back and forth as her head rotated constantly, allowing her to continually check her surroundings. She looked as though she expected a S.W.A.T. team to converge at any moment and shoot her down without warning. He knew she must be going through hell to have become this paranoid since he last saw her.
She said she had talked about Armbruster's abuse of their child while she was kept in a drug-induced haze in her hospital room. One of the nurses had heard her, and decided to put her career on the line to check out the ravings of her patient. The nurse withheld several doses of the sedative until her patient was coherent. Then she started asking pointed questions. Apparently, she chose to believe Megan's story because she also helped her get out of the hospital. Megan told Blair that she felt she owed this woman her life and her sanity.
After escaping the facility, with clothes and a little nest egg of money from her generous benefactor, Megan made her way to her daughter's day school and picked her up. They had been on the run ever since. It had been only three weeks, but the money was running out, and Gavin had been hot on her trail almost from the beginning. She told Blair she needed a friend, and he was the only one she could think of to trust. She knew none of her New York society friends could be counted on to help. Gavin had told them all she was a drug addict and drunk who had absconded with his daughter. They were all programmed to call him the moment they heard from her. She said she knew Blair would listen and give her a chance to explain.
When Blair heard all of this, he was more convinced than ever that she needed to talk to Jim. He knew Jim would be able to help his friend and her child. Now, he just had to get her to believe that.
"Megs, I want you to listen to me. Don't interrupt-just listen until I'm finished; then you can talk. Deal?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Deal," she said quietly, sighing and nodding her head in resigned agreement. Blair always did have a way of getting people to listen, and usually to do what he wanted, she mused, with the ghost of a smile on her lips.
"Jim, my roommate, the cop--he'll be able to help you. Don't look at me like that! You said you'd listen--we had a deal. Now, Jim is a good man. He's a great cop, but he's also a seriously decent human being. If you go to him and tell him this story, he will help you." Blair's animated face suddenly became very solemn and achingly sincere. "If you don't trust in his ability, trust in my judgment. I know this man. I live with him! Please, trust me, there's no other choice here. If you don't resolve this, you'll be running for the rest of your life. That's no way for your little girl to grow up."
He made a gesture with his hands to let her know it was her turn to speak.
"You really have a lot of faith in this man, don't you?" she asked, feeling herself caving to his indomitable will.
"Megs, I have more faith in Jim Ellison than most people have in God," he replied, with absolute conviction and not a trace of hesitation. The truth of his statement rang out like church bells, and that is what finally convinced her.
"I won't do it myself. I refuse to take that chance. You go to him and tell him I'm here. Tell him my story, and that I'll meet with him. Then bring him back here." She sighed resolutely and added, "I'll be waiting."
"You won't regret this," he enthused, smiling broadly. He started to go back to his car, but a hand on his arm stopped him.
"Wait just a minute." She walked over to the shadows about fifty feet away and came back a few moments later with a large bundle wrapped in her arms. "I just want to be sure you know what's at stake here. This is my daughter, Tessa." She shifted the bundle slightly to reveal a sleepy little girl who looked like a carbon copy of her mother. The angelic creature in Megan's arms looked up at Blair and, with a blink of her soft brown eyes, committed grand theft of his heart.
"Don't let her down, Blair." Megan's voice was solemn, and her eyes penetrated Blair's soul.
"I won't," he almost whispered, reaching out to stroke the little angel's dark tresses. "Neither will Jim." He met Megan's eyes once more and turned away, heading for his car, the loft, and a very difficult conversation with his partner.
Jim Ellison's large frame was stretched out on the couch in front of the TV when he heard the sound of his roommate ascending the stairs. "Thank God," he thought. "Saved by the Sandburg. Now I can turn off this stupid movie and enjoy a little conversation with my partner." Jim fingered the off button on the remote and crossed to the door to let Blair in; then he headed into the kitchen to snag two cold beers from the fridge. The kid looked like he needed a beer or five.
"What's wrong, Sandburg?" Jim's tone was strictly no-nonsense, and his expression stern. He could see something was bothering Blair, and he wasn't in the mood to fish for it. Blair always wanted to know everything about him, but the kid did not like to part with any information from within the confines of The Sandburg Zone. Jim was never one to pry, but when it involved some sort of problem, he slid into big brother mode and determined to get what he needed to know one way or another. Fortunately, Blair was willing to part with his little kernel of information tonight.
"Jim, I have to tell you something, and you're not going to be happy with me for not mentioning anything sooner." He heaved a sigh and pressed on, determinedly. "This case you're working on, the one with Megan Armbruster--well, I know her. In fact, I'm the reason she came to Cascade. She needed my help." He stopped for a moment to let an incredulous Jim process the knowledge he had just gained.
"That's who called earlier, isn't it?" Jim was piecing this thing together now. "That's who you went to meet." It was a statement, not a question, but Blair nodded in the affirmative anyway. "So you know where she is." He was greeted with another nod from Blair. "Well, where the Hell is she, Sandburg?" Jim's voice was rising, and so were his blood pressure and heart rate. In fact, the only thing he could think of that wasn't rising was his patience. That was at an all time low.
"I can't tell you, yet. You have to listen to me first." Blair was barely able to breathe, and Jim's glare said he was thinking about changing that barely into a not-at-all. Sandburg's very large--funny he never noticed how very large until now--roommate was livid. Yep, all the classic Ellison-fury signs were there: red face, veins in neck and forehead popping out, and the ever-present, dead give-away clenching jaw muscles. It made Blair's face hurt just looking at those jaws. The man would never have sagging jowls; he exercised his facial muscles too often.
"What do you mean you won't tell me?!" Jim thundered at his cringing partner. "Blair Sandburg, this is not some game you're playing here! This woman is wanted for kidnapping! You will tell me where she is RIGHT NOW!"
"No," Blair stood his ground, with quiet calm. He managed to look much more serene than he felt. He hated doing this to Jim, but he had to know that Tessa and Megan would be safe when he finally did confide in his friend.
For his part, Jim suddenly realized he was staring at a brick wall named Blair. Yelling and threatening would get him nowhere. He had to get Sandburg to listen to reason, but first he was going to have to listen to what Blair had to say. He had a pretty good idea what it was from his discussion with Gavin Armbruster, but thought he'd let his partner roll with it. He ran a hand over his face, starting at his forehead and moving down, as if trying to physically wipe the residual anger from it.
"Okay, Blair," he said calmly. "You start telling this bedtime story, and we'll see if I can finish it."
"What?" Blair was truly confused now. Jim was calm, but he was making no sense. Perhaps senility set in early with the Ellison clan.
"Just start talking, Sandburg. I think I know what you're going to say."
"Okay," Blair answered, dubiously, puzzlement evident in his tired eyes. "Megs, um, Megan Armbruster, had a good reason for taking her daughter. Her husband..."
Jim interrupted, "...was molesting his child." He took advantage of Blair's temporary speechlessness to make his argument. "Chief, it's not true. I've met Gavin Armbruster. I don't believe he could have abused his daughter."
"Jim, she said she saw him!" Blair exclaimed.
"Listen to me, Blair." Jim understood his friend's compassion for a child he thought was being mistreated. He knew Blair would stand his ground until Hell froze over rather than endanger that little girl. The earlier anger he had felt at his partner's refusal to confide in him had melted away and been replaced by respect for the kid's willingness to go out on a limb to help a friend and protect an innocent. Now all Jim had to do was get him to understand that one of the innocents in this case was Gavin Armbruster.
Jim chose his words carefully. "I know you said Megan Armbruster is your friend, but she's not herself right now, Chief. She's had a drug and alcohol problem for a while now. Because one of the drugs she was doing was some kind of designer specialty item, the doctors don't know the extent of the damage." Jim's face was full of compassion for the younger man, and he stepped closer and rested a hand on Blair's shoulder in a gesture of comfort before continuing. "What they do know is that she's delusional and dangerous. She believes Gavin molested her daughter, but the truth is, she was molested by her own father, and seems to be confusing the details in her mind. We need to find her and get her back to the hospital for treatment, and we need to get Tessa home, Blair."
Blair had waited patiently and expressionlessly, with his arms folded across his chest, while Jim delivered his monologue. He knew Jim believed what he was saying, but Blair knew it wasn't the truth. Now that it was his turn to speak, he tried to convey the certainty he possessed in his heart and soul.
"Jim, I know you believe him, but I can't. I know her father abused Megs. I've known that for years, and I know she's come to terms with it. There's no reason to believe she'd wig out like that. Also, her father only abused her when he was drunk, Jim. She said she could always smell alcohol on his breath when he came after her. He reeked of it, and it always made her sick to smell it. She never drinks, Jim. She can't get close to a drink with alcohol in it without becoming nauseous. There is no way she could ever be an alcoholic. It's just so not her, man." Blair's blue puppy eyes pleaded with Jim to just believe him. He knew she wasn't delusional as well as he knew his own name. She was perfectly sane; she was just married to a monster. Blair just hoped Jim would see it his way.
The anthropologist's hopes were dashed when Jim picked up the phone and dialed Simon's cell phone number. As a flabbergasted Blair listened, Jim filled Simon in on the situation, and they arranged to meet at the station in twenty minutes. Simon said he would call Gavin and let him know to be there as well. Jim told his incredulous partner that he only wanted him to meet Gavin and see that the man wasn't what Blair thought.
Nothing Jim said was of any use in placating his friend. Blair felt that the man he had only earlier that evening thought of as an older brother had just betrayed him. Sandburg agreed to go to the meeting in the captain's office because he had no choice, but he was wounded and raw, and Jim felt it.
Jim knew he had made a mistake, but he didn't know how he could have acted differently. He only wanted to find a way to make Sandburg understand that his loyalty, while admirable, was wholly misplaced. He hoped Gavin and Simon together could do what he had been unable to manage alone.
The drive to the station passed in complete silence. Blair was licking his wounds and consciously forcing himself not to curl up into a fetal ball and retreat from the corporeal world. Perhaps he was wrong to place such faith in Jim-he was only a man, after all. Super heroes never betrayed your trust.
Jim was aching at his own inability to comfort his guide in this time of need. He felt utterly helpless, and that was not a condition Jim Ellison relished. He prayed to every deity Sandburg had ever mentioned to him that Blair would have a change of heart about revealing Megan's whereabouts and let Jim buy him a nice apology dinner to make all this up to him.
When they arrived at the station, Simon and Gavin were already present and pacing the office. When introduced to Armbruster, Blair not only refused the man's outstretched hand, but became openly hostile.
"I'm not touching a monster like you," Sandburg hissed, letting his hatred for this man flow out of him in palpable waves. With his fury flashing like lightening in his stormy eyes, Blair turned to address Simon. "If you and Jim think you can change my mind by bringing me here and letting this son of a bitch tell me what a great dad he is, you have sadly underestimated my gullibility." Blair knew his tone was more abrasive and his words more challenging than was appropriate when addressing the police captain, but he had never been more furious. How dare they haul him in here like some recalcitrant child who needed to be shown the error of his ways by the grown-ups!
Blair was uncharacteristically still as he faced Simon. It was as though the gravity of his anger weighted down his usually animated features and body. The only parts of Blair that remained lively as he stood rooted to his chosen spot on the carpet were his eyes. Staring defiantly at the large captain, they were sparking like flint rocks struck against concrete.
"Where the Hell do you get off talking to me like that?" Simon bellowed, coming around the desk to stand directly in front of Blair, his face only inches away from the young anthropologist. He reached out his right hand and poked Blair's chest with his index finger to punctuate the remainder of his speech. "Not only are you in danger of losing your observer status, but I'm just about ready to have you booked for withholding evidence in a felony investigation, aiding and abetting a known kidnapper, obstruction of justice, and anything else I can think of, just on general principles! If you want to avoid being arrested, Sandburg, you will open your mouth right now and spill it! Don't test me, here, Kid; I'll have you for breakfast!" When he finished yelling, Simon looked like he was a hair's breadth away from a full-blown stroke. His brow was furrowed, and there were veins standing out on his neck and forehead.
To his credit, Blair didn't back away from Simon's angry outburst. He grasped his trembling hands behind his back and stood firm, taking deep breaths to quell the encroaching panic attack that threatened to overtake him. Logically, Blair knew Banks wouldn't hurt him, but logic was fleeting in the wake of Simon's tirade and looming physical presence.
"I can't, Simon," Blair replied with quiet dignity. His eyes, looking like those of a lost child, silently begged the larger man for understanding. All the anger had left Blair, and what remained was a solemn resolve to do what he knew was right, in spite of all the pressure to conform.
"Then I have no choice but to book you and put you in a holding cell. Is that really what you want, Blair?" The captain's voice was no longer full of ire, but it was firm and determined. There was also more than a hint of disappointment in the tone.
Blair shrugged dejectedly and replied, "I'm afraid that's the way it has to be." Standing there, biting his lip to keep the impending tears at bay, Blair Sandburg looked more like a man in need of a Blessed Protector than he ever had in his life.
As Jim listened to the exchange between his two closest friends, he felt his world crashing down around him. This was the last thing he had intended. It wasn't supposed to go down this way. Blair was going to talk to Gavin, see that he was telling the truth, and tell them where to find Megan and Tessa. He was never meant to be thrown in some holding cell, all alone and frightened. Jim was about to intervene when Gavin did it for him.
"Wait, Captain," Armbruster began, striving for some sort of diplomatic compromise. "Locking this young man up isn't going to help my daughter." He turned his attention to Blair, who was looking at him with renewed disdain oozing from every pore. "I understand you think you're doing what's best for my child. For what it's worth, I appreciate that you're willing to go this far out on a limb to protect her, but you need to understand that I'm no threat..."
"You're the worst kind of threat there is!" Blair interrupted vehemently. "You're stealing her innocence, her childhood..."
"Dammit!" Gavin slammed his hand on the table in front of him as he exclaimed. "I never touched my daughter! I'll submit to whatever tests you want. I'll hire a full-time nanny to be by my child's side at all times. I'll work with social services representatives. Whatever will convince you, I'll do. Just tell us where my daughter is so I can take her home. If you want what's in her best interests, you can't possibly want to see her on the run like this."
Listening to Gavin's pleading voice imploring him to part with his secret, Blair almost faltered. Armbruster seemed so sincere. He was offering to put his life under a microscope to get his daughter back. These didn't seem like the actions of a guilty man. Blair came close to telling them what they wanted to know, but loyalty won out.
"I can't," was all he said.
Everyone in the room had seen the doubt play across the young anthropologist's expressive countenance. Blair's face telegraphed every emotion he felt. All the occupants held their collective breath awaiting an answer that would simplify their lives, considerably. When it wasn't forthcoming, Simon made the only decision he could. He picked up the phone and called for an officer to escort Sandburg down to booking.
Ellison immediately protested this action, saying that if it had to be done, he would do it. Simon had been prepared for this objection, and was about to refuse when Blair surprised them both with his point of view.
"Jim, stop. I don't want you there, man." At Jim's hurt look, he tried to clarify. "Listen, don't get me wrong, I'd like to have you looking out for me more than anything, but I don't want you anywhere near me when they put me in that cell. There's no way I want you trying to get to sleep tonight with that kind of picture in your head. Just let me go by myself. I'll be okay." With that, he left with the officer who had come to escort him, but not before Jim practically growled at the young cop to leave the handcuffs off. He wasn't going to have his partner paraded around the station in shackles.
As soon as Blair left the office, Simon again made use of his phone, telling the dispatcher to send some patrol units to Blair Sandburg's former address.
"Just a hunch," Banks said in response to puzzled looks from Ellison and Armbruster. "It may be nothing, but that warehouse would be the perfect place to hide someone." Jim nodded, then started with the other two as they all heard the alarms sounding from downstairs.
Blair was mentally preparing himself for the demoralizing procedure of being photographed and fingerprinted, when a commotion broke out about twenty feet in front of him. Some drug-crazed lunatic had managed to grab an officer's gun and started shooting. While all the other officers, including Blair's escort, converged on the man, Sandburg decided it might be time to beat a hasty retreat.
He knew it was a crazy idea, but it was his only shot. It wouldn't take Jim and Simon long to check out the warehouse. After all, Blair wasn't exactly a career criminal. He didn't know of a great many places to hide from the police, so his old home would be a logical choice. If he had figured that out, he knew his friends would. He had to get to Megs and warn her that she was no longer safe.
Stealing Jim's truck probably wouldn't earn him any extra points in the friendship game, but Jim had given him a spare key for emergencies, and Blair felt that this definitely qualified. He rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself when he pictured the big detective's expression at finding the Expedition missing. By then he'd probably know Blair had escaped and he'd put two and two together and slam a two by four up against the kid's head at the next available opportunity. At the moment, though, none of that mattered to Blair.
"Stay right here. Don't leave this office!" Simon barked over his shoulder at a startled Armbruster as the captain accompanied Jim out the office door and toward the alarms.
Ellison and Banks had reacted immediately to the sound, both drawing guns and moving reflexively toward the site of the disturbance. Jim's protective instincts were on full alert as he ran down the stairs to the floor where the commotion was going on. He just knew Blair was in the middle of it, somehow, and he didn't want his young friend hurt.
By the time Jim and Simon made it down the stairs, the psycho who had erupted into violence had been quickly subdued. This left only the clean-up duties and an accounting of other prisoners to be dealt with by the booking department staff. That was when Sandburg's escort noticed his absence.
"Where is he?" Jim demanded, walking purposefully to the officer who had been assigned to Blair. On his face was a tight frown that intimidated the hell out of the rookie officer.
"Uh, sir," the young man gulped. "I responded to the ruckus over there, sir, and, um, I think he, that is, Mr. Sandburg, got away in all the confusion."
"Oh, my God!" Simon bellowed from behind Ellison. He had deliberately assigned this kid to take care of Sandburg's booking because he knew the boy had a gentle demeanor and wouldn't be likely to manhandle or mock Blair. He hadn't wanted the experience to be any worse than it had to be for Sandburg. Now his mistake was coming back to bite him on the ass. The rookie's inexperience had allowed a certain crafty little anthropologist the opportunity to bolt, and Blair had made use of it.
"Jim, sweep the whole place and make sure he's not hiding out in the john, waiting for the fuss to die down." Simon then turned to the poor, miserable looking rookie. "Turner, you screwed up, but so did we. I should have assigned someone with more experience, and Ellison should never have insisted you leave off the cuffs. We'll talk more about this later, but for now, I want you to put out an APB on Sandburg. Make sure the guys know he's a cop's partner, but that he is not armed. Tell 'em he's wanted for questioning, but don't mention the escape." He gave the young man his patented, piercing, fuck-up-again-and-die look. "Got it?"
"Yes, sir, Captain!" Turner didn't miss the look. He knew he was dead if he didn't get this right.
"Oh God, no!" Blair cried, as he saw the uniformed officers putting a handcuffed Megan Armbruster into the back of a police cruiser. Tessa was being carried to another cruiser by a female cop Blair didn't recognize. He couldn't believe they had gotten here so fast. Jim and Simon must have figured it out more quickly than he'd thought they would. Now, he was sitting here, a fugitive from justice, watching the reason for his illegal activities being loaded into a police car.
He pondered for a moment about what he might do. He could try a rescue, ramming Jim's truck into the quartet of police cars grouped outside the warehouse. Then, he would try to grab Tessa and Megs in the confusion. Of course, this was a clearly bone-headed plan, at best. He'd probably just end up getting shot, and succeed only in getting Megs and Tessa injured in the process.
In the end, Blair knew he had only one option. He turned the truck around and headed back to police headquarters. He'd surrender, and Jim could kill him for taking the Expedition. Life was simple, really.
Jim did as Simon asked, fuming all the while that the stupid rookie had let the even more monstrously stupid Sandburg escape like that. He really hoped the kid had just hidden out in the bathroom or the parking garage until he could think things through. Unfortunately, he was afraid the situation was much worse.
He had done a floor by floor search of the building, with all of his senses opened up, hoping to detect a hint of Sandburg's scent or a heartbeat--maybe even see a brown curl peeking out from under a desk. There was nothing, though--not a trace. Jim had made his way down to the parking garage and was standing, stiff-necked and unyielding, in the empty spot where he had earlier parked his beloved truck. As he turned to head back for the building's elevator, he saw his Expedition pull into the entrance to the garage. He also saw Sandburg's expression as he realized Jim was looking straight at him. The sight of his young friend returning caused him to relax his stance, considerably, but the look of terror on the kid's face almost made him laugh outright. Jim knew that look, and was so amused that, with all the trouble Sandburg was in, his biggest fear was obviously that he was going to be beaten to death for "borrowing" the truck. If the situation weren't so serious, Jim would have been on the floor, reeling with laughter. Of course, if it weren't so serious, he reminded himself, he probably would be angry about the truck. However, things were far too grave to be concerned about that now--and he was too happy to see his guide come back on his own.
Blair pulled into the spot newly vacated by his partner's body, and he rolled down the window without putting the vehicle in park or turning off the engine. Jim responded by walking up to the driver's side of the truck and leaning against the front door, his face hovering only inches from the open window.
"Okay, Chief, you can turn it off and get out. I'm not gonna kill you." He smiled gently at his errant friend, who responded by doing as he was told. "Yet." The smile grew wider, as Blair rolled his eyes by way of reply. Then his face took on a serious expression. "What brought you back so soon?"
Blair shrugged and lifted his face to display a far-away look in his eyes. "Went to the warehouse just in time to see a friend being wrongly arrested. Didn't really think it would do me much good to stay away; so here I am."
Jim thought his guide had never looked so lost and alone. The eyes that usually danced with life and light were covered with a dusting of pain and remorse.
"She didn't do it, Jim," he stated simply, with complete conviction. "She didn't make that stuff up, and she didn't use drugs. That's just not who she is, man--anymore than I am." He started walking toward the elevator, and Jim quietly followed, laying a hand on the kid's shoulder and giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Blair's face never changed expression-there was only a blank, distant look.
After they exited the elevator, the pair proceeded straight to Simon's office. The captain cast a beleaguered glance in Blair's direction, and noted a total lack of the animation and emotion that usually defined the young man's persona. He thought some good news might cheer him.
"Sandburg, Gavin Armbruster and I decided that the charges against you should be dropped." He carefully avoided telling the kid that the reason was because Megan had been apprehended, so there was no real point anymore. No need to upset him more than he obviously was. "You don't have to go back to booking. Since you were never officially logged in, you and Jim can just go on home." He smiled. He figured that news should take a load off Sandburg's mind. It didn't seem to.
"He knows about Megan Armbruster, sir. He was at the scene when she was arrested; then he came back here to turn himself in." Jim's voice was perfunctory, but his eyes told Simon silently that he was worried about his partner. Blair just stood there, hands at his sides, staring into space, looking like he could break into laughter or tears at any moment. He seemed frozen in time.
"May I see her?" Blair's voice cracked as he spoke, but his face still betrayed no feeling.
"I'll arrange it." Simon was willing to acquiesce to almost anything to bring some of the life force back to that somber countenance. He knew it shouldn't matter to him if the boy was upset, but he had come to think rather highly of the young man in the last couple of years. He recognized it for what it was--paternal affection. Now, Banks would never, in a million years, let on that he felt that much for Blair, but truthfully, the scruffy, little, long-haired bundle of energy had gotten under his skin. He actually liked the kid. Right now, he wanted to do whatever it would take to bring Sandburg back to the land of the living, short of releasing that Armbruster woman.
Megan walked into the interrogation room, her face drawn and looking much older than her birth certificate would suggest. She sat down across the table from Blair, putting her back to a large window which deceptively resembled a mirror. Of course it wasn't. Jim and Simon were in a room on the other side of the glass with an unobstructed view through it.
"I'm sorry," he said, in a voice that came out as little more than a ragged whisper.
She kept her face lowered. "What was it you said, Blair? 'I have more faith in Jim Ellison than most people have in God?'" Jim and Simon winced simultaneously at both her quote and tone. She sounded raw, angry, and mocking toward the man seated across from her.
Blair looked at the mirrored glass as though he could see Jim's face clearly. "Well, I guess my faith in him was as misplaced as yours was in me." Jim backed away from the glass as though he'd been slapped. The big man's heart was crumbling, and his body's only outward reaction was the muscular contortion festival going on around his jaws. Simon mused that Jim's teeth were either going to be ground into paste or just completely shattered if this didn't stop.
The truth was, Blair's statement had hit home in a major way. At the moment Jim had heard Megan quote Blair's words, he knew he had made a series of crucial errors in judgment, starting right after his partner had told him about Megan. Jim realized that he should have trusted Sandburg's instincts in this situation as he always did with his senses. He now understood that Blair trusted him as a sentinel and friend. Ellison needed to trust him as both guide and friend. When they had returned from Peru, Blair had said it was all about friendship. That was true, and Jim knew he had forgotten about that in this case. He also knew he had to believe in Blair and help him find the truth. Praying it wasn't too late to salvage Blair's all-consuming faith in him, Jim brushed past Simon and headed into the room with Blair and Megan.
"What the Hell are you doing?" Simon asked, as Jim nearly toppled him trying to get from the observation cubicle to the interrogation room. He'd been ready to lay a comforting hand on Ellison's shoulder and tell him the kid didn't really mean it. He knew that was a big lie, but felt the man needed to hear it. Then Jim suddenly sprang to life and all but ran into the room with Sandburg.
Ignoring Simon's question entirely, Jim knelt on one knee next to Sandburg's chair and spoke softly. "Chief, I'm so sorry. I finally got the point, partner. I should have trusted you. Nothing else should have mattered--not Armbruster's word, not the doctors' statements about Megan's drug abuse, not even my own instincts. You're my brother and my guide. I should have trusted you no matter what." He saw the tears in Blair's eyes and felt the young man's hand come to rest on his shoulder. Both gave him the impetus he needed to continue. "I know you feel betrayed. Hell, you were betrayed. I only hope you can forgive me, Chief. I'll do whatever I can to help, now. If you believe Armbruster abused his daughter, then I believe it, and together we'll prove it."
Megan had been listening to all this with a noncommittal gaze. When Jim concluded his apology, she looked at Blair and spoke quietly. "Well, maybe it wasn't so much misplaced as temporarily obscured."
Blair smiled warmly at her. "Yeah, I guess so. It'll be okay, Megs. Now that," he jerked his head in Jim's direction, "he's back on track, so to speak, we can find out what we need to get that rat-bastard husband of yours. I know we can, with Jim's help, Megs." As Blair's enthusiasm returned, his features began to surge with their previous energy. Simon and Jim both noted that it looked like someone had turned on a switch somewhere, and all the emotion and animation that had been drained out of him when Megan was arrested suddenly flowed back in at full force. His eyes sparkled with determination, and he was fidgeting in his seat.
"Good to have you back, partner," Jim said with a broad grin.
"Huh?" Blair looked at him, puzzled. "Uh, I've been right here, Jim."
Jim just looked at Simon as they smiled knowingly at each other. "Whatever you say, Chief. C'mon, let's go. We got work to do if we're gonna get this guy."
"You sure do 'cause you're going to need something a lot more substantial than faith and friendship to make a case." Simon was back in Captain-mode, now, walking away and leaving the partners to their difficult task.
"Oh, man," Blair said softly enough that only a sentinel's ear could detect it, "there isn't anything more 'substantial' than that."
Tessa Armbruster had been examined by a doctor as soon as she had been recovered. As requested by the Cascade PD, she had been checked for signs of sexual abuse as well as other injuries. There was no evidence to sustain a conclusion of molestation, so her father was allowed to take her to his hotel room, provided he not leave the city until after a few more details of the case were wrapped up. He had agreed, smiling broadly and promising whatever cooperation was required.
Jim and Blair made their way to Armbruster's hotel suite in relative silence. They had formulated a plan with the hopes that Gavin would play his part. Blair's knowledge of human nature indicated that the stress of Tessa's abduction and the subsequent posturing for police and FBI agents would be pushing Armbruster toward a need for some kind of release. That need should most likely translate to molesting his child, now that she was back in his clutches, with no hope of rescue. Jim and Blair planned to listen outside the suite for any tell-tale signs, and burst into the room to catch him in the act. Gavin didn't make them wait long.
"I think I hear...oh, God...Chief, I'll never doubt you again." With that, Jim surged forward, gun drawn, and decimated the door frame to the hotel room with one resounding kick to the door. As it flung open, he and Blair were greeted with the most disgusting tableau they could imagine.
Armbruster was poised over the sofa where his child lay, prone and naked. He had one hand between her legs and the other, between his own, stroking himself. Blair felt the bile rising up in his throat as he let out an inarticulate, strangled cry of protest. Jim, almost zoned on the sight before him, held his gun firmly aimed at Gavin's head.
"If you don't get your hand off her right fucking now, I'll consider you to be resisting arrest, and I'll blow your miserable head off." Jim's voice came out as a glacially chilling, soft growl. The sound of it was enough to almost stop Armbruster's heart from beating. Even Blair shuddered at the tone, confident that he would never be on the receiving end of this much malevolence from his partner.
Gavin raised his hands and attempted to back away from the sofa, but the action caused his pants, pooled around his ankles, to trip him. In a move that, under other circumstances, would have been patently comical, he fell backward, landing with a resounding thump and a grimace of pain, on the floor.
"I hope he broke something," Blair quipped, as he made his way to the sofa and removed his jacket and plaid flannel over-shirt he was wearing. He gently picked up the frightened child, who had quietly stuffed her thumb in her mouth while watching the scene between her tormentor and rescuers. Then, he wrapped her body in the soft flannel and put his own jacket back on over his tee-shirt, speaking quietly and reassuringly to her as he did so. Blair then used the cell phone to call for back-up as he held Tessa close and watched as Jim, frozen in place with his gun still trained on Gavin's head, as if willing the man to do something that would give the detective an excuse to fire. Blair understood, but said nothing, until the other officers arrived.
It was only a few minutes before several uniformed cops converged on the scene. When they first arrived, Blair left Tessa on the sofa for a moment and moved to Jim's side. He carefully coaxed the larger man into holstering his gun and moving away from Armbruster. Then, he mentioned to the officer applying the handcuffs that he might want to take a moment to read Gavin his rights as Jim hadn't quite gotten that far. The cop nodded knowingly, having witnessed Ellison's state upon his arrival at the scene. Then, Jim and Blair shuttled Tessa off to the hospital again--as a known victim of molestation, she would have to be given yet another exam to check for further injuries.
On the way to the hospital, the partners had called Simon to tell him their news. He apologized for doubting them and said he would pull some strings to cut through the red tape so that Megan could meet them in the emergency room. Banks said he would bring her, himself.
Epilogue
Within hours of his arrest, Gavin Armbruster had a herd of well-heeled attorneys attempting to make a plea bargain arrangement with the District Attorney's office. He knew there was no way he could plead "not guilty" with a cop and his partner as witnesses. Gavin just wanted to get the lightest possible sentence he could manage in the most minimally secured facility available. He thought his lawyers might even be able to work a deal where he could get off with a little time on the "shrink's" couch, talking about how much he hated his mother, or whatever the doctor wanted to hear. He smiled in his cell, completely unaware that his fate had been sealed a long time ago.
Beverly Sanchez owed Blair and Jim for saving her life from the Juno brothers. When the twin assassins had been hired to eliminate her, the sentinel and guide had come to her rescue not once, but twice. When they called her and asked if she would take the Armbruster case, she didn't hesitate. Sanchez knew this was personal to her friends, and she was making no deals. Gavin Armbruster was going to pay.
The two exhausted roommates collapsed on the nearest sofa after entering the loft. They had spent hours giving statements and arranging things with Beverly. It would all be worth it, though, when Armbruster was off the streets and in prison for what he did to Tessa and Megan. That knowledge didn't stop them from being bone-weary as they talked a little to wind down from the adventure they'd had.
"You know, I meant what I said earlier, Chief." Jim was looking down at his hands, almost afraid of what he might see in his partner's eyes. "I know how wrong I was, and I just hope you can really forgive me for doubting you. From here on out, I'll trust in whatever you say. You're the guide here, partner, and I intend to listen to you from now on. Your opinion will be as important to me as my own." Jim's tone was so serious Blair really thought he needed to let the guy off.
"Look, Jim, man, you've made it up to me, okay? I forgive you. We all make mistakes--even sentinels." Blair's smile was infectious, and now that his mood was lightening, Jim suddenly realized he was almost as hungry as he was tired. He grunted as he lifted his weary body off the couch and strode into the kitchen with Blair on his heels.
After foraging in the refrigerator for a few moments, Jim found a prize--a two-day old take-out container of Egg Foo Young. Much to Blair's chagrin, Jim snagged a fork from the utensil drawer and began eating the cold, greasy food right out of the container. With a grimace, Blair reached out and tried to yank the take-out box from his partner's hands, only to have Jim easily elude the grasp with a quick sidestep and twist of his upper body.
"Come on, Jim, that stuff isn't good for you even when it's hot. God only knows what all that cold grease will do to your system." Blair made another disgusted face, and the sentinel just chuckled at him.
"Leave me alone, Sandburg," he said, around a mouthful of food. "My eating habits are my own, and are none of your business." He was grinning playfully at his roommate's obvious displeasure.
"Uh, Jim," Sandburg began with a sly grin, having finally figured out a strategy. "What was that you were saying about my opinion being as important as your own?" At that, Jim gave up his beloved left-overs, and grimaced as Blair tossed them into the garbage. Blair smirked as he heard a plaintive whimper from behind him when he retrieved a box of granola for the two partners. He turned and smiled victoriously at his erstwhile roommate.
"Relax, Jim, you'll love it. Trust me." They looked at each other and started to laugh-just because.
End