I know it's taken me a while to get this one out but here it is. While it can be read on its own, it might be a good idea to read 'Guide's Choice' and 'The Bond' first to understand some of the references. There are some spoilers for Cypher in this but I've noticed that many stories out there have some, too.
Great thanks and blessings to Cindy C. for taking the time to beta this for me. She found the many correctly spelled but wrongly used words that spell check doesn't get and also helped me in a couple areas that I lacked experience.
Disclaimers are the usual: no money has changed hands, no infringement is intended, and we all know to whom the characters belong.
Rating: PG-13 for a couple of bad words and some violence.
Shallan
Cascade Police Department, September 24
A small smile tugged at the corners of Detective Jim Ellison's mouth as he stepped out and away from the elevator that had opened on the floor housing the Major Crimes division of the Cascade P.D. It was just before 8:00 a.m., the normal time he usually arrived at the precinct. The cause of his amusement was the sharp movement of several heads through the doors of the office area as they swung towards him with looks of anticipation. His smile broadened when the anticipation turned to disappointment and the doors closed behind him without disgorging any other individuals.
Looks like you've worked your way into a lot more lives than just mine, Chief, Ellison mused, walking through the double doors leading into the department.
"Hey, Jim," a voice called out. Turning, Jim saw that it was Joel Taggert, former Captain with the Cascade Bomb Squad and now with the Major Crimes Division. Jim noticed the expectant look on the man's face. "Welcome back. How was the time off? You guys get any fishing in?"
"Hey, Joel. Not bad, not bad. Definitely needed it, but, uh, we just didn't have time to go after any fish," Jim replied, extending his hand to shake the one extended to him. He had been curious as to what the many rumors would be concerning the absence of himself, their boss, Simon Banks, and the object of all the anticipation: his friend, roommate, partner and now Shaman, Blair Sandburg.
Everyone knew why Sandburg had been absent for so long. He hadn't been back to the precinct since the big fight between him and Ellison and his subsequent brush with death a couple of months ago. Then, three weeks ago, Banks and Ellison both put in requests for personal time off and disappeared. The assumption about Ellison was that he went on vacation somewhere with Sandburg. No one knew where Banks had gone and Jim wasn't sure if anyone had connected the captain's sudden vacation plans and them being gone, too.
Before any more questions concerning his absence could be raised, Jim continued towards his desk. "Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"
Taggert followed closely behind the taller man. "Not too much, really. Homicide is passing some cases off to us that I had to brief Simon about. Uh, where's Blair? I thought he might be coming back today."
Ellison gave the man a knowing smile and then chuckled when he saw the embarrassment flicker across the black man's face.
"Alright, so we do care about the kid. There. Are you happy somebody finally admitted it?"
"I'll never tell, Joel. Sandburg was up with the birds this morning to go to the university. He said he would be in around noon."
"So he's okay now? I mean, no problems after..." Taggert hesitated in reminding the other man about the whole Alex Barnes incident. Ellison had a strong reputation of being a real hardass, but the near loss of his partner and roommate turned him into something that no one wanted to witness a second time.
Ellison's smile softened. With little conscious thought, he felt for the bond that he now shared with Sandburg and located it leading off in the direction of the university. It was something like a tether to his friend, and it had become a permanent part of him when he had released Incacha and accepted Blair as his Shaman in Peru. "He's doing great, Joel. Unfortunately, he's back to being the same old Sandburg we'd love to tie down. I think he's almost back up to that pink rabbit's speed."
Jim placed a hand onto his friend's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze and then a pat as he moved around the larger man to his desk. He was just barely able to muffle another chuckle as he noticed Joel sneak a peek at his watch. "Simon in?"
"Yeah, but he's been up with the commissioner most of the morning about those cases I briefed him about. Hope you and Sandburg are ready to hit the ground running. The cases appear to be the type Simon usually assigns to you two."
"Oh? And what type's that?"
Taggert gave Ellison a conspiratory wink. "The ones that have 'weird' written all over them."
"Oh, great. Thanks."
When the elevator doors opened, allowing the lone passenger access to the floor, the clock on the wall read 12: 48 p.m. The young man with long, curly hair practically bounced into the lobby area. With a short scan of the immediate surroundings, he quickly moved through the doors marked Major Crimes.
"Hairboy!" A shout came from across the room, causing the young man to freeze. Barely having time to remove the backpack from his shoulder, he was suddenly engulfed by two strong arms and pulled into the chest belonging to Detective Henri Brown. "Bout time you got your skinny little butt back to work. How ya doin', kid?"
"Oof, uh, fine Henri," Blair Sandburg grunted out when he was finally released from the hug. "At least I was before you tried to smother me. Great to see you, man!" The friendly, wide smile given to the black detective assured him that the last remark was in jest.
In a short amount of time, Blair was surrounded by the people he knew so well: Brown, Rafe, Taggert, Connor and even Simon's secretary, Rhonda. He looked dazed at the amount of concern the group had for him and the barrage of questions about how he was, how did he feel, and was he back to work for sure now.
Ellison stood up and watched the scene from his desk, knowing that the warm welcome back given to his partner was the best medicine he could ever receive. Sandburg's last time in the office had been an ugly scene, with Ellison telling him that he couldn't be trusted and then tossing him out of the apartment. Jim acknowledged the look of surprise thrown at him by his partner with a smile and a shake of his head.
Blair looked rested and relaxed as he fielded the stream of questions from the crowd around him. The injuries he had received at the hands of Alex Barnes while in Peru were mostly healed and not really visible. The only exceptions were his wrists. Those areas were healing slowly, still requiring light bandages and Blair made sure he wore an oversized sweatshirt to cover them. There would only be minimal scarring around each wrist to remind both him and Jim of what had happened just a few weeks earlier. Any questions concerning them or how they had been received were not desired, since neither of the men could really explain where they had been and why.
Hearing the commotion, Simon Banks opened his office door and moved towards Ellison's desk to watch the scene. Both men smiled at the embarrassment Sandburg displayed with all of the attention he received. Megan and Rhonda both had given him a hug and kiss on the cheek. Taggert, Rafe and Brown all had large enough smiles on their faces to split them in half. It was when the questions were raised concerning the 'vacation' he and Jim was supposed to have been on that the observers decided to step in.
"Alright, people. I think this is a police station, is it not?" Simon's voice easily rose above the voices of the group. "We still have crimes to solve and criminals to catch."
With final slaps on the shoulder and quick but firm handshakes, the small crowd finally disbursed and Blair made his way over to Jim and Simon looking bemused. "Hey, Jim, Si...I mean, Captain. Sorry about all that. I didn't expect to be mobbed."
"You going to make it a habit of disrupting my department, Sandburg?"
"Uh, no sir." Blair gave a nervous glance to Jim and then barely caught the wink Simon gave his partner to make everything all right again.
"Come on into my office, you two."
After he shut the door behind the detective and his observer, Simon extended his hand and gave Blair a comforting smile to belie his earlier attitude. "Welcome back, Blair. You doin' okay?"
"Yeah, thanks. Clean bill of health from the clinic Doc. Feels good to be back." Blair took the other's hand. The short moment of silence hung in the air.
"Get everything straightened out at the university?" Jim asked, taking one of the chairs sitting in front of the desk. Jim changed in the subject to prevent any further uncomfortable scene from developing.
"Yeah, man. Everything is cool!" Blair moved to the second chair while Simon turned towards his credenza, poured two cups coffee and refilled his own. The excitement was written all over Blair's face. "The department was thrilled to receive the report about that abandoned settlement you located when we were on the way back to Lima. The Dean is already planning another excursion to the area to research it's history and to find out why it was abandoned. Put me back into the good graces of the faculty, thank you very much. They asked if I wanted to be a part of the team being sent into the area but I don't think I'm ready to tromp around Peru right now. God, what a trip that would be! But the best part of my whole day is that my schedule is going to stay light until next semester, since it's too late this semester to enroll into any classes, and they all seem to think that I need to take it easy for a while longer and..."
"Whoa, Junior. Take a breath once in a while before you pass out," Jim said with a laugh, holding up his hands to halt the steady monologue. Simon just chuckled and handed each man a mug and then sat at his desk. There was a short moment of silence while each tasted the coffee.
Clearing his throat, Simon put down his cup and looked down at the three folders sitting in the middle of his desk. "I'm sorry to have to do this to you two, with this being Blair's first day back at work, but I need you to start working on some cases that homicide has earmarked for us. Seems we might have a serial killer messing up our city. There have been three murders that appear to have been performed in a ritualistic manner and I need my best team on this."
"Joel said something about them being different." Jim noted a slight increase in Blair's heart rate but was pleased that he was presenting a calm appearance. His awareness of the younger man's condition seemed to be constantly at the edge of his consciousness now, and only became noticeable when there was a noticeable change.
"They are strange in that each happened in different graveyards spread out around the outskirts of the city and in no apparent pattern. The first one happened last December, the second one happened about three months later and the last one was this summer."
"No one claiming responsibility?" Jim asked, reaching for the files. Blair leaned over to look at the first report file his friend opened but quickly shifted back with a quiet groan when he saw a photo of the victim at the murder scene.
Simon gave the distraught man a compassionate look. "Nothing legitimate, but then nothing has been released to the public to make them think the deaths are the result of a serial killer."
"Then what...um... connects them to make it seem they are?" Blair asked, flashing another quick glance at the pictures in the folders.
Jim looked up at his friend and, noticing the pale face, shifted in his chair to prevent the other from being able to see any more of the photos. "None of the victims were related, they're different races, both males and females and...a wide range of ages. It looks like they were all killed differently, too. This one is missing his eyes and with the last one, the woman's stomach was cut open. But they all have similar markings on their faces."
Simon shifted uncomfortably with the last statement. "They were made from each victims own blood. Now, the first was an elderly man that was thought to have wandered away from his nursing home. He was missing his hands. The second was a young woman, with her eyes cut out, and the third was that woman. But the Coroner says that those mutilations happened after the victims were dead so the amount of blood found at each of the scenes was minimal. The eviscerated woman was actually pregnant and the live fetus showed up at Cascade General the next day. Each victim also had a small fresh wound to their left wrist. It's assumed that the blood from that wound was used to make the facial markings."
"So, if they didn't bleed to death from the mutilation, then what was their cause of death?" Jim asked.
"The tox screens showed that each victim's blood stream had evidence of chloral hydrate."
Blair gave a startled gasp and then tried to cover it up by clearing his throat. He failed. The other two looked at him and Jim placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Ahem...sorry. Old memories die hard. That was the stuff Lash had used on me. You're awake and know what's going on around you but you can't move... or even scream. But, I thought it wasn't lethal. Is it what killed them?"
"No. The report also shows that all of them had large amounts of a substance called Amanita Muscaria, which is supposed to be..." Simon started but was again interrupted by Blair.
"The spotted toadstool mushroom. Also known as the flycap mushroom. It's not toxic unless taken in large doses. However, it can send you on one hell of a trip if you take the right amount." Jim again looked at his friend and raised an eyebrow.
Blair flushed red and gave him a nervous laugh. "I've never tried them. But I do know of the usage because of that Native American burial ground that was found last fall up north. The university asked if they could borrow an instructor from the University of Washington to provide some guidance with the recording of the site and decipher its history. The visiting professor's a member of the Quinault tribe and I've had a couple of conversations with him about the special seminars he's offered to give on rituals and ceremonies of ancient Native American cultures. He told me that the flycap mushroom was used by some tribal medicine men to induce visions. Sort of like the way peyote is used in religious ceremonies of the more modern tribes now."
"So, maybe the killer is kidnapping the victims and keeping them subdued with the chloral hydrate but using the mushrooms to kill them during the course of some ritual..." Simon started but was then interrupted by his phone.
"Banks...Uh, huh...Same as the others?" Grabbing a pen and note pad, he scribbled on it. "Okay. I'm sending Det. Ellison out. He's being assigned to this one and the other cases...Oh, and he'll have an Inspector Megan Connor and a police observer along. Blair Sandburg...Right."
With a sigh, Simon hung the phone receiver back onto its cradle. "That was homicide. They found another body. This one is located at the Church Street Cemetery on the west side and the victim appears to be similar to the other three. You'll need to contact a Detective Franchs when you get there."
"No apparent signs of trauma causing the death but everything looking like some type of ritual. And the mutilation on this one?" Jim asked quietly.
"Missing both ears. Grab Connor and get on it. The Mayor has been on the Commissioner. They both want the killings stopped and the killer or killers found before the public finds out and starts to panic."
Jim stood up, closed and shifted the case files into his left hand and then drained his coffee cup. "Not a bad blend this time, Simon. Doesn't taste like Maxwell House to me. Let's go, Chief."
Nodding in agreement with his friend, Blair quickly drained his cup and followed out the office door.
Church Street Cemetery, Same Day
A blue, '69 Ford truck carefully wound down a rough road and through the montage of police and city vehicles to get a position as close to the crime scene as possible. It was near the back part of the Church Street Cemetery. A soft, steady drizzle had started to fall as the vehicle came to a stop near the Coroner's wagon.
"This may not be too pretty, Chief. Maybe you should stay at the truck," Jim commented and paused with his hand on the door handle. This was not his idea of the best situation for his partner's return to duty.
Blair shot a quick look at the Australian inspector sitting between him and his partner and then shook his head as he closed the zipper on his coat. "Don't worry about me, man. If it gets to be too much, I'll back off. Okay?" Opening his door, he slid out quickly to allow Megan out of the truck. He didn't need to look at his partner to know that a frown appeared on his face. Blair knew the question was simple concern by Jim on how he handled dead bodies but he needed to take a firmer role as Shaman to his Sentinel.
"Suit yourself. Connor, why don't you go talk to the Coroner and see what he has already. I want to make sure that plenty of shots are taken before this rain has a chance to wash anything away," Ellison called gruffly over his shoulder as he exited the truck and then pushed passed a uniformed officer after showing his badge.
"He sounds like his knickers are a little twisted, Sandy. Didn't he get enough rest on that vacation of yours?" Megan asked.
"He's okay. Just bothered by the idea of a serial killer. One of the victims was a pregnant woman and the pictures weren't pretty," Blair assured the woman and then quickly trotted after his partner, remembering at the last moment to pull his observer's badge from inside his jacket to get past the officers holding back the few gawkers and press.
Ellison had been right, the crime scene was not a pretty one. He stood for a moment to adjust his sense of smell down to prevent being overwhelmed. He had been silently berating himself over his suggestion to his partner and hadn't been paying attention when his nose caught the stench. There was blood, though not too much. It was the variety of other smells, some that he couldn't quite identify, that had taken him by surprise.
"You all right, man?" Blair asked coming up beside his friend and placing a comforting hand on the other's arm. His focus was completely on the Sentinel's face. "Dial it back down to a level you can handle."
Jim shook his head, concentrated, and then looked down at his friend and gave him a quick grin to say thanks. "You gonna be okay with this?"
"No," Blair answered with a small smile. "But that hasn't stopped me in the past." With a pat on Blair's shoulder, Jim moved towards the person who looked to be in charge of the scene.
"You Franchs?" Jim asked a heavy-set man with graying hair and black rimmed glasses standing close to the body.
"Ellison?" The man looked up from the pad he was writing on and moved away from the body.
"Yeah, and this is my associate," Jim stated and moved to stand between the murder scene and his friend.
"Blair Sandburg. How're ya doing?" Blair just nodded his head to the other detective, struggling to keep from looking at the body.
"Not good. We've got what looks to be a transient that was tied down with cord that a child could have broken and no real visible means of how he died."
"The cord was strictly for show?" Jim asked, turning to take a closer look at the body.
"Yeah. It's just simple twine around his wrists and ankles and the ends tied to little sticks. Even your partner could break it with little effort." Franchs smirked towards the smaller man. Blair just smiled good-naturedly back. He was able to catch Jim's eye and give a quick negative shake of his head when he noticed him bristling.
Jim pretended to ignore the remark and turned the conversation back to the body. "I take it the mutilation was performed after death?"
"That's what the Coroner thinks, too," Megan said walking up to the three men. "Inspector Megan Connor."
Franchs gave Megan an obvious look of admiration. "Inspector?"
"On loan to the Cascade P.D." Jim shot the woman a mild look of irritation. "The body have the other mark?"
"Wound on the left wrist like someone had tried to bleed him but there's no blood around the hand." Franchs moved back towards the body and squatted down to point out the cut.
"Oh, man," Blair said softly and turned his head from the body, his face paling at the sight. "Um, Jim? Why don't I go back to the truck and, uh, get some stuff to take notes. Okay?"
"Good idea, Chief. I'll be over in a few minutes." Jim spoke quietly and patted the young man on the back as he quickly walked away from the group. Jim listened as he left. Blair was trying to control his breathing and muttering the words 'I'm not going to be sick' like a mantra.
"First DB the kid's ever seen?" Franchs asked with a snicker, watching the retreating observer.
"He's just getting over a bout of the flu," Megan jumped in quickly before Jim had a chance to defend his partner. She understood how disturbing the sight was since it almost effected her the same way. And she had been trained to handle scenes like this. "Any thoughts on why this guy and why here in this cemetery?"
"On the guy, no. Doesn't have any I.D., looks like he's slept in his clothes for more than one night and hasn't had a decent meal in days," Franchs replied, going along with the fact that the subject was being diverted back. "The choice of cemetery might be because it's so large and this part hasn't been used that much."
"He smells of urine," Jim spoke up, rubbing his hand across his nose as he worked to turn down the dial on his sense of smell even farther. "You might be off on him being homeless. He..."
"You can smell him all the way over there?" Franchs interrupted, looking from the body to the detective. Jim was standing nearly 15 feet from the body.
"Uh, yeah. Caught a whiff when the wind was blowing in this direction. But look at his hands. Those aren't the ones of a transient. They're too clean and the nails look trimmed. Let's make sure that plenty of photos are taken. Get a surrounding area shot, too. There has to be some reason the killer is using cemeteries to commit these murders. Come on, Connor. Let's allow the forensic team to do their stuff first so the Coroner can get the body in to do the autopsy. We'll do a sweep of the area." Jim shifted around the Inspector and started walking away from the murder scene.
"Good pick up on the hands. But how were you able to smell the urine on the body? I couldn't smell a thing," Megan asked trying to catch up with the long strides of the detective.
"I was always told I could smell trouble a mile away, Connor. And what was that about Sandburg having the flu?"
"I just didn't like how that detective acted towards Sandy. He shouldn't make fun of anyone who's not emotionally dead like he is, the wanker."
Ellison stopped short at the anger in the Australian's voice and waited for her to catch up with him. Seeing the indignation in her expression, his own irritation cooled back down. "Thanks, Connor."
When he estimated that he was far enough from the murder scene, Blair stopped and turned back to watch his partner. He knew that he should stay close in case Jim had to concentrate too hard with one of his senses, but seeing the body of the victim was a little too much for his stomach to handle. Blair mentally cursed himself for not having a stronger constitution. His partner needed him at his side, not cringing back at the truck.
Blair watched Jim walk away from the homicide detective, clenched jaw visible even from where he watched. Franchs must have said something else to piss Jim off. He then saw Megan say something as she tried to catch up with his partner and then his jaw unclenched. Blair didn't know what she had said but it must have been the right thing. The two then started walking in a standard sweep of the area around the murder scene.
Knowing that his friend would be okay, Blair looked carefully back towards the murder scene but froze when a feeling of being watched came over him. The hair on the back of his neck felt like it was standing on end. The sensation was like having someone standing right behind him, close enough to touch him, breathing down his neck. Whirling around to see who it was, Blair found no one standing close to him. The feeling disappeared.
You're in a graveyard, it's a gloomy day, and there's a dead body not 50 yards away. Keep it up, Blair, and the next thing you know you'll be carrying holy relics and saying prayers. Sheesh! Blair mentally berated himself and then turned back to the murder scene. Maybe if he could get an overall view of the area, he could possibly pick up some clues to help Jim. He was an anthropologist, after all. His job was to be able to walk into a setting and decipher its history. Of course, the sites he normally studied had been vacant for several hundred years. No bodies were left lying on an altar.
Altar? Where did that idea come from? Despite the queasy feeling he got from looking at the body, Blair focused on it. The ground it was lying on looked like it was raised slightly. The position of the arms, straight out from the body with hands turned upwards, made the body look similar to drawings he had seen of sacrifices performed by some ancient cultures. Then he noticed Franch stumble over a rock a few feet from the feet of the body. Blair smirked at the idea of the detective being clutsy until he noticed similar sized stones sitting equal distances on either side of the body.
"What the hell?" Blair mused and looked around to find some higher place to stand that would give him a better view. Spying the one thing he could safely climb on, Blair strode further away from the murder scene.
"I can't see anything around here that shouldn't be here," Megan commented to the man walking next to her. "This part of the cemetery looks like it hasn't been used in a while, either."
"It hasn't. Look at the dates on the stones. That's probably why the killer picked this area. Less chance of being caught in..." Jim's voice trailed off as he looked towards the area he knew Blair would be. "What is he doing?"
Connor looked at Ellison and then followed his gaze towards where the vehicles were parked. The sight that met her gaze helped her understand what had caught the taller man's attention. She could see Sandburg very clearly...because he was standing on Ellison's truck hood.
"Do you think you can explain to me why you feel you have to stand on my truck, Sandburg?" Jim asked when he arrived at the object of his attention. Megan had followed behind him. "Besides the need to get up in the world?"
The excitement on Blair's face was clearly visible. "Come up here, Jim. You can't see the pattern clearly unless you're looking from above. The symmetry is almost perfect. I know that I've seen this before. Where is my pad and pencil?" Blair motioned for his partner to join him on his perch and then began searching his pockets.
"What pattern, Chief? What do you see?" Jim turned back towards the murder scene, allowing his enhanced vision to kick in.
"Can't you see it? The body is sitting on raised ground and placed in a sacrificial pose. Is that the north that his head is towards? Then there are stones placed in even intervals all around the body, in a circle. Not too close so you really don't see them unless you're looking from above. Four stones are positioned at the head, feet and either side of the body. Eight other smaller stones are spaced out between the four larger ones. Damn! Where have I seen this?" Finally finding a notepad and pencil, Blair quickly began drawing what he saw as he explained the sight to his partner.
After it was pointed out to him, Jim was able to see what his partner was saying. Moving towards the cab of his truck, he opened the door, climbed in and pulled out the case files from the previous murders. Although none of the photos were wide-angle, a few shots were taken with enough distance from the bodies to allow Jim to pick up some stones around them in a similar pattern to the ones at this scene.
"Good job, Chief. I don't think anyone noticed this," Jim complimented his friend who had come down from the hood and now stood beside him. "Connor. Get the forensics team to take a few wide-angle shots and make sure that they get an overhead view that takes in the circle of stones around the body before they move it." Megan turned to head back towards the body, not questioning the authority in Jim's voice.
"Jim, the smells that almost overwhelmed you when you got near to the body. What were they?" Blair asked.
"There was the blood and the smells coming from the body mostly. But there was something else...different scents that I wasn't expecting and they just gave me a bad feeling. Do you see anyone smoking around the area?" Both men looked around, uniformed and plain-clothed police milled around.
"Not right now, but it's raining," Blair answered and moved into Jim's line of sight. "Alright. Remember what you smelled when you first walked up to the scene and then separate the different smells out." Jim closed his eyes, trusting his partner to keep him grounded.
"Now, first eliminate the scents from the body that you have already recognized... and then remove the scents from the people here...and now focus on the new smells. You smelled something burning?"
"Yeah, but...it's not tobacco like I first thought. It's...some type of grass...different. I've never smelled anything like it." Jim opened his eyes and climbed back out of the truck. Closing the door behind him, he slowly walked back towards the murder scene. Blair followed closely behind, locking his eyes on his friend to keep from looking at the victim.
When he reached the stone that was sitting at the feet of the body, Jim knelt down and pulled out a plastic bag from his inner coat pocket. Taking a small pinch from the ground, he rubbed the substance between his fingers. Then, using his pen, he dug around the area and then scooped barely discernible soggy ashes into the bag. "Here. Something was burned here and not too long ago. The odor is still pretty strong. It feels like ashes of a plant or something. Carson!"
The uniformed policewoman turned at her name being called. "Would you take this to the forensics people and have them run an analysis on it? Tell them that I need a report on what this was as soon as possible."
The woman took the bag from Jim's outstretched hand and placed it in the pocket of her overcoat. Seeing that the detective's attention was now on the rock, she asked, "Anything else, detective?"
"Yeah. It looks like there's wax on this rock." Jim took another bag out, scraped a small amount of what he found into it and handed the second bag to the policewoman. "Have forensics also check the other stones circled around the body. Thanks."
Waiting until the policewoman was out of earshot, Blair crouched down in front of Jim. His back towards the dead body. "You're doing great, man! Can you pick up anything else?"
Jim slowly stood back up and carefully sniffed at the air. He wrinkled his nose when he again caught the odor from the victim. "No, not clearly. I can smell the drug used on the victim and... it's mixed with another scent. But I've never smelled it before. Sort of musty but...I don't know. I think the rain is starting to wash everything away. Why don't you head back to the truck. I'll go get Connor and then we can get out of here. I don't think there's too much more for us to do."
"Good. I'd like to get out of the rain, dry off and warm up. This is definitely not the jungle, man." Blair stuck his hands deeper into his coat pockets, hunched his shoulders and shivered.
Ellison smiled and turned back towards the direction he last left Connor. "You've gotta get your blood to thicken back up, Chief. And the only way to do that..."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I have to expose my body to the weather to make it compensate for it. That doesn't mean I have to like it. I hate being cold and wet."
"But that is our world, Sandburg." Jim spoke back over his shoulder. Blair gave his friend's retreating back a grim smile and moved quickly towards where the truck was parked.
That's my line, Jim, Blair thought, knowing that the weather really didn't bother his friend. Jim could reduce his sensation towards the cold and dampness as easy as flipping a switch. Or turning down a dial.
Waiting beside the passenger door for the two detectives to return, Blair was suddenly aware again of an intense feeling like someone staring, watching him. This time, it felt like he was being checked over, judged for who or what he was...and it scared him. He remembered another, more recent time when he had the feeling. It was when he had been questioned by the Chopec Chief, Takla, back in Peru. Looked at, tested and judged on his position as Jim's Shaman.
Unconsciously, Blair lifted his hand and placed it over the area on his chest where his medallion lay: the symbol proclaiming him as Shaman to his Sentinel. Knowing it was there gave him some strength. He then turned in the direction of where he was sure the person looking at him had to be standing. The drizzle made everything look hazy and the only thing he could see was a stand of trees and a scattering of bushes at the edge of the cemetery over a hundred yards away. He knew there was someone there watching but couldn't see anyone. What he wouldn't have given to have Jim's ability right now.
As Ellison approached the truck, he didn't notice his partner's stance at first. "Connor's going to be another few minutes, Chief. Why don't you go ahead and climb in out of... Sandburg?"
Blair stood with his back to the truck, making no indication he had heard the voice talking to him. Jim focused his hearing and heard the increasing rhythm of the younger man's heart, his breath laced with anxiety. Stepping around to stand by Blair's side, Jim saw that the other's right hand was clutching at his chest.
"Sandburg? Can you hear me?" Ellison spoke softly, trying not to startle his friend. When there was no answer again, he moved carefully and stepped into Blair's line of vision. That broke the spell.
"Jim? I..." Blair shifted backwards to lean against the truck, shaking his head and blinking rapidly. "What's wrong?"
"You tell me. I come back to find you standing like a statue with your heart beating like you had just ran a race. What was out there?"
"I...don't know. It was weird. Spooky. I felt someone staring at me again. Hard."
"Again? When was the first time? Who's staring at you." Jim shifted Blair over, opened the passenger door, and pushed the still dazed man into the truck.
"Uh, when I had left you guys first to come back here. I had turned back to see if I could make anything out of the area and I just felt these eyes drilling into my back. When I looked around, the feeling went away." Blair pushed his damp hair away from his face and rubbed his eyes.
"And this time?"
Looking straight into his Sentinel's eyes, Blair said, "It was just so intense, man. Like I was being scanned. I know there's someone in the trees over there checking me out big time. Like he or it was trying to read my soul. Remember in Peru, with Takla?"
Jim quickly turned to the tree line Blair indicated and used his enhanced eyesight to cut through the mist. Nothing. "I don't see anyone, Chief."
"The feeling's gone, too. I swear, Jim. I know someone was there watching me. I caught his attention for some reason."
"Caught whose attention, Sandy?" Megan asked, hearing only the last portion of the conversation as she approached the truck.
Jim shot his partner a sharp glance before he moved out of the way to allow the inspector access to the truck. "Blair was just a little uncomfortable about the attention he got from Franchs. I was trying to tell him to ignore jerks like that."
"He's right," she agreed, climbing in beside Blair. "Homicide detectives think they're the King Roo and the rest of us are just Sheilas to fawn at their feet.
"King what?" Jim asked, entering the truck on the driver's side.
"Head bull and the rest of us are herd cows," Blair translated. "You're both right. I'm sorry. I forgot about others not attached to our section and how they might react to me." Blair gave the inspector his best embarrassed look and was rewarded with an understanding smile.
"Let's get back to the precinct and start taking a better look at those other cases," Jim said to change the subject. Turning the key in the ignition and starting the truck, he shifted it into gear and pulled away from the scene.
As the pickup drove away and back down the lane through the cemetery and into the haze, a silent figure moved out from the trees and watched it depart.
Major Crimes Division, Evening, Same Day
For what seemed like the tenth time in a half an hour, Blair took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. What am I missing? I know it's here, he thought to himself as he looked down at the four case files spread out in front of him. He had been helping Jim since they had come back from the crime scene try to find the key, anything that would help solve four murders in over nine months.
A steaming cup of coffee appeared in front of his face. "Here ya go, Chief. Caf‚ Latte, heavy on the caffeine." Jim was holding the paper cup with the word 'Starbucks' emblazoned across its midsection.
"Aw, man. I thought you were just going to the break room or something. You didn't have to do this, Jim." The grateful smile Blair gave his friend belied his comment.
"Oh, I was. But then I decided I needed some fresh air. So, when I stepped outside, I smelled the bakery down the street and couldn't resist these." A bag that smelled distinctly of cinnamon was plopped down onto the table. "I was lucky, since this was from the last batch made this afternoon. And since Starbucks was right next door..."
"You couldn't resist. I know, I know. With the amount of fat grams and sugar those things have, why don't you just rub them on your gut, man. Cause that's what's going to be expanding very quickly if you keep giving into your urges."
Jim reached back to grab the sack. "If you don't want any, I..."
Blair snatched the bag from under his friend's hand. "Don't you dare. Now that my stomach knows these are out there, it'll revolt if I don't give it at least one." Taking a cinnamon roll out of the bag, Blair quickly bit into it. He then handed the bag back to Jim.
"Why is it, Junior, that almost everything that tastes as good as these are bad for you?"
"Because temptation is the devil's handiwork. Right Sandy?" Megan answered, stepping into the conversation. Blair only nodded, his mouth full.
"That the report from forensics?" Jim asked reaching forward to take the papers the inspector carried. He traded the sack of rolls for them. "Took 'em long enough."
Leaning against the table the two men were at, Megan opened the bag handed to her. "They wanted to get everything completed so that they could go home. It's getting late. The cause of death was from a toxic amount of amanita muscaria in the victim's system."
"It's a mushroom. Dangerous if you ingest too much. Anything else?" Blair asked.
"Like the others, chloral hydrate." Jim placed the paperwork down so that both he and Blair could read it. "That would explain why he didn't break the twine around his wrists and ankles and escape. It and the mushroom stuff were taken orally, since residue of both were found around the mouth, chin and neck areas."
Jim felt more than saw the shudder course through Blair's frame. Casually, he placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder and gave him an encouraging squeeze. It may have been three years since the incident with David Lash, but Jim knew a trauma like that could affect someone for a very long time. Even the rest of their life. To be kidnapped out of his own home by a psychopath who stole identities, drugged and then terrorized into thinking he was going to die had given Blair nightmares for weeks afterwards. Lash had been forcing a dose of chloral hydrate down Blair's throat when Jim had finally arrived and was able to save him.
Blair cleared his throat and reached for the report. "They find out what was burned at the site?"
"On four of the rocks around the body, the largest ones at the head, feet and either side, there was a wax residue. By composition, it was left from candles and they were probably handmade," Megan answered.
"Handmade?" An idea nagged at the edge of Blair's brain. "Some ingredients not normally found in the store bought ones?"
"Actually, there was that and what was missing that normally would have been found. No chemicals or dyes. Tallow. Possible made by a naturalist or survivalist or..."
"A medicine man or a witch." Jim looked sharply at Blair, hoping to see a smirk to offset his statement. There wasn't any.
Megan didn't notice the looks passed between the two men. "And then there are druids..."
"What are you two talking about? Witches? Druids?" Jim rolled his eyes and sat down heavily in his chair.
"I wouldn't even think of bringing up druids except for fact that they use tallow candles. But one of the ingredients that was identified in the wax you found on the rock doesn't add up, Jim," Megan spoke up defensively and took back the papers she had brought from forensics. "It was the same stuff that you found the ashes of: poaceae."
"And that is?"
Blair sat up quickly and took the papers out of Megan's hands. "Sweet grass. Native Americans, or actually their medicine men, burn it to help cleanse their spirit when they are about to perform some ceremony. This is all too weird. Someone is mixing religions."
"You've lost me, Chief. I don't know of any religion that uses mushrooms, burns grass and then kills people. This is all making my head hurt."
"I know, Jim, but besides the killing parts, there seems to be rituals from two different religions here."
"Well, you did say that your Indians used the mushrooms and the sweet grass with their ceremonies. What is the other religion?" Megan asked.
"Wiccan. Wait, Jim. Here me out." Blair quickly said holding up his hand when he saw his partner open his mouth to protest. Subtly, he brushed his hand across his chest where his medallion lay. Jim quickly closed his mouth and nodded for his Shaman to continue.
"Wicca is a recognized religion and its worshipers gather in groups called covens. There are those covens who practice only white magic which is to benefit others and pay reverence to Mother Earth. Then there are those covens that practice dark or black magic. Supposedly, they are trying to summon demons or to make pacts with the devil. Candles are used in their rituals and cemeteries are popular places for both types of covens. With black magic, though, the sacrifice is usually an animal such as a chicken or black cat. I know for a fact that the animal shelters absolutely refuse to allow the adoption of pure white or black cats around this time of year since there are those who will use them for sacrifices."
"Why at this time of year?" Jim asked.
"Next month, man. Halloween. The most important date on the Wiccan calendar. All Hallow's Eve is when the veil between this world and the next is at its thinnest and contact can be made easily with the spirits."
"And you believe that these killings might be the work of a, what did you call them? Coven?"
"I don't know. There's some things that just don't seem to fit and I'm too tired to think anymore tonight. I've really got to get home and get some sleep if I want to make it to class tomorrow. They may be letting me off a little easy this semester but I want to make sure they don't think I can be replaced. Let me do some checking around and see what I can find out about any of the local covens. Maybe I can talk to that visiting professor, too." Blair punctuated his last words with a yawn.
The contagious yawn infected the two around him. Jim looked at his watch and then started gathering the different folders together. "I'm right behind you, Chief. Connor, why don't we plan on checking out those other cemeteries and see if they have a similar layout to this last one."
"And maybe allow your abilities the opportunity to see if they can pick up anything?" Megan's statement caused the two men to freeze. "Your psychic abilities. I can help if Sandy can't be with you."
"Oh, yeah. Those. Maybe I can pick up the residue of something. Thanks for the offer. Let's go, Sandburg." Handing off the case files to Blair, Jim grabbed both of their jackets and hustled the other out of the office and into the elevator.
"All right. What was with the gesture?" Ellison turned to his partner as soon as the elevator doors closed on them. "You're not serious about witches and druids and other crap like that, are you?"
"Jim, you know there are a lot of different religious practices that go on throughout the world and I studied several when I was researching shamanism. I mean, look what we went through. That was not a natural, every day occurrence and you didn't have any problem with accepting what happened, did you?" Blair stared firmly into the bigger man's eyes and waited until he saw that he was listening. "We both know what it all meant to us. Well, it's no different with other religions."
"Okay, okay, okay. I'll suspend my skepticism for a while here and see what we can find out."
A mischievous grin slowly spread on Blair's face. "Gee, Jim. Can you actually do that and still be able to function?" He quickly ducked to miss the hand aiming for the back of his head.
"Keep it up, Junior. You might find yourself riding in the back of the truck for a while."
Major Crimes Unit, Afternoon, October 12
"It's another bust, Jim. Rafe and I've been to every candle shop in this city, and a few that were out in the sticks, and none of them have ever made any special candles with that grass stuff in them." Det. Henri Brown wearily plopped into the chair at his desk.
"If I have to smell that many combinations of incense again, I'm demanding a gas mask," Rafe added perching on the side of the desk. "How can people stand to work around that stuff?"
"Try living with it," Ellison growled with a tired smile. The other two chuckled, knowing to whom he was referring. "What's with the scraggy look, Rafe? Finally growing out of your GQ stage?"
The younger detective rubbed the growth of hair on his face with a grimace. The dark stubble of a beard on his normally clean shaven face was definitely out of place as well as the additional length of hair on his head. "Not funny, Jim. Actually, H and I are going to be hanging around the homeless community on stakeout this weekend to try and catch that bastard that's been in the area attacking the old guys. Got to blend in, you know."
"Yeah, but I told him that I'm going to be picking out the clothes he'll be wearing," Brown jumped in quickly with a laugh. "It's gonna be a real struggle to keep him from trying to make his Hunt Club shirts look natty enough to fit in. Somehow they resist the down grade."
Ellison smiled at Rafe's embarrassed look. "Hey, if you can remember, do you think you could ask around and see if there's any talk going around about the cemetery murders?"
"Did they finally identify the last victim? Was he a transient?" Rafe asked.
Jim picked up and opened one of the files on his desk. "No, actually he was a patient at Conover and had just been released a couple of days prior to his death. He was still working with one of the psychologists there."
"Conover?" A voice interrupted the conversation. "How's my 'favorite' facility involved?" Sandburg walked over to the desk he was allowed to use and set his backpack onto it.
"Where've you been, Sandburg? I was about to send out the blood hounds," Ellison asked.
"Sorry. My car decided that it wanted to visit its favorite mechanic. I had to wait till they could give me a lift here. I'm going to have to catch a ride home with you tonight. What were you saying about Conover?"
"They want you back, Hairboy. Seems your release was a mistake and they've been looking for you ever since." Blair rolled his eyes at the black detective and turned his attention back to Jim. His partner tried but failed to keep the smirk off of his face.
"Ahem ~cough~...'scuse me. Must have something in my throat." Jim straightened his face back up at the look he received from his partner. "The last victim of the cemetery murders was I.D.'d. James Rossman, from Tacoma, was a former patient there." Jim turned the folder towards Blair to show him the obvious patient record photo.
Blair took the folder. "I remember this guy. Yeah, he had been admitted about the same time I was undercover there. If I remember right, he was in for manifestations of auditory hallucinations." He looked up and saw a puzzled look on Brown's face. "He claimed to hear voices."
"That's weird," Henri said. "This guy is getting help for hearing things and he ends up dead with his ears cut off."
"What is it, man?" Blair asked when his partner stood up abruptly and grabbed the folder back out of his hand.
"No. It couldn't be that simple," Jim mumbled. After flipping through a few pages, he closed the folder and grabbed the others, flipping through their pages one by one. "H, I think we'll keep you around as more than just our resident comedian."
"What?" Brown turned to Rafe and held out his hands, palm up. "What did I say?" The other man shrugged his shoulders. Blair quickly moved around the desk to look over Jim's shoulder.
"You think that's why he was cut up that way?" The observer asked.
"It looks like it could be a pattern. Let's show it to Simon." Gathering up all of the folders, Jim walked quickly over to the office door that had the name CAPTAIN SIMON BANKS printed on the window and knocked a sharp couple raps. Without waiting for a reply, he opened the door and stepped into the office. Blair followed closely on his heels.
"You look like you just solved the mystery of life, Jim," Simon said looking up from the stack of papers in front of him.
"This may be better, sir. You know we've been racking our brains trying to figure out how any of the victims might be connected to each other or why they were even picked by the killer? Well, I think there is a pattern as to the why with the cemetery murders and it's not just the ritual the killer uses. Look here." Jim opened each folder to the information pages about the victims and laid them out across Simon's desk.
Simon looked at the folders carefully and then looked up at Blair, who just nodded his head towards his partner. "Okay, what am I looking at?"
"It has to do with the mutilations. Starting with victim one, Joshua Rain. His former business, before he went into that retirement community on the north end, listed him as being an evangelist and some type of faith healer. Interviews with other residents indicate that he still provided his services to special clients up until the day he disappeared. Then, he supposedly wandered away from the Home on December 18th. When he was found dead on December 22nd in the North Rosemont Cemetery, he was missing his hands."
Ellison started pacing in front of Banks desk. The expression on his face, and the intense concentration on the subject he was trying to relate, prevented the other two men from interrupting him.
"Then there is the second victim, Theresa Vasquez. Her occupation down in Sacramento was that she claimed to be a psychic. And, according to the report, she was considered to be fairly prosperous. Whatever that means."
"It means that she must have been pretty good and that she had a large clientele," Blair interjected but continued when he saw the expressions of disbelief on the other two men's faces. "Guys, there are proven cases of people who are able to be very accurate at 'seeing' things that have actually come true." Blair emphasized the word with his hands making the quote gesture. "Nostradamas, Edgar Cayce, and Greta Alexander are just a few."
"Sandburg..." Banks sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Come on, Simon. How can you discount something like this after all that we've been through."
"The jury is still out on that trip. I know I was there and you two have told me about what happened after you left me in the clearing. However, I do have reservations about these so-called psychics."
"Wait a minute, guys. Let's get back to the case at hand." Jim quickly jumped in when he saw Blair ready to launch into a full-blown argument. "For now, let's just accept that some people can do what they say they can. What really matters is that the killer believes that the people he or she has killed had a special ability. Okay? As I was saying, Vasquez was visiting here from Sacramento to participate in what is listed as a psychic fair. It was held in the Holiday Inn over off the frontage road from March 19th through the 23rd. The flyer from there had her listed as a major participant. Apparently, she had checked into the hotel but didn't show up when she was scheduled. Her body was found March 22nd, in the St. Jude Cemetery on the south side, and she was missing her eyes."
"A faith healer is killed and his hands are removed. Then a psychic is killed three months later and has her eyes removed." Simon mused.
"Right. Now this last guy..." Jim leaned over the desk to read the folder lying in front of Simon.
"Rossman," Simon supplied for him.
"Right. Rossman. He had been a patient of Conover and was on a type of work release program with the facility. Sandburg says that the guy had been in there the same time that he was working that case on Chapel. He was being treated for hearing voices. He now turns up dead a couple of weeks ago missing his ears. It all seems to point to the idea that each of the victims were taken because of their supposed ability and the killer then removed the source of that ability."
"That sounds pretty strange...wait a minute, Jim. What about the woman that was found this summer?" Simon picked up one of the folders and flipped through the pages. "As far as I can see, there's nothing here that indicates she had any special ability to target her as a potential victim. Shelly Tristan. Single, unemployed, attending Rainier on one of those grants trying to help welfare recipients get off the rolls and into society as productive workers."
Ellison sat back down in a chair and rubbed his face with his hands. "I know, I know. She's the only one I haven't been able to connect with the other three. Maybe she was a copycat victim."
"No, Jim," Blair interjected quietly. "She belongs in the group if it has to do with the special abilities that each of the victims had. What is the one thing that a woman can do that a man can't? Bring forth life. If the killer was looking for some special powers, she would've been a strong source. We've got someone here who is going for some major psychic ingestion of gifts. I know I told you this story before, about the Aztec warriors? They would eat the hearts of their enemies because they thought it would make them stronger, invincible."
Blair suddenly jumped up from his chair and slapped his forehead with his hand. "Oh, man! That's why there is the ritual with the pattern of the stones, the candles and the burning of the sweet grass. How could I have not seen this?"
"Calm down, Chief. Is this about the stuff you and Connor were talking about?"
"Yeah, man. But as I said, they're mixing stuff from different religions here so I'm not really sure what or who we should be looking for now." Blair looked intensely at his partner. The silence that hung between the two was almost thick with tension. Blair knew that Jim was one of the most down-to-earth guys he had ever met. The fact that he accepted the mysticism that came with them being Sentinel and Shaman and yet not consider any other incident of supernatural happening frustrated the younger man.
Ellison felt as much as saw the conviction in his partner's eyes. "I told you I'd keep an open mind about this for now."
"Well, I wasn't privy to that conversation. Would one of you mind telling me what it was about and why Jim needs to keep an open mind? Or do I need to be psychic?" The confusion was plainly heard in the captain's voice.
The question brought Blair's attention back to the captain and he sat down in his chair to explain. "Each of the murder sites were set up in a ritualistic manner, right? Now surrounding each of the bodies were stones in a very specific pattern. There were four larger stones positioned at the head and feet and at either side. Candles had also been placed on these stones. In between each of the stones were two smaller stones making it like a circle within a circle. Jim found ashes from burned sweet grass at the last site near the stone at the north end but outside of the circle. Forensics confirmed that there was ash of the same type at each of the other murder scenes in the same area. The candles were also hand-made and had sweet grass bits in them. Finally, there is the evidence of the mushroom in each of the victims."
"Thank you for reiterating what we already know, Sandburg. Now what are the different religions you think the killer is using?" Simon fixed the younger man with an impatient stare. Knowing he was treading on fragile ground, Blair looked to Jim for support.
"What Blair is trying to say, but having a hard time, is that one of the religions he thinks part of the ritual leans towards has to do with witches."
"What!?!"
"I know what you're thinking, Simon, but just hear me out. Okay?" Blair quickly jumped in, holding his hands out in a placating manner. When Simon didn't carry through with the yelling he looked like he wanted to do, Blair continued.
As quickly as possible, he gave the captain the same information he had told Jim about the subject. "They don't wear long, pointy hats and ride brooms. However, there are known to be covens that practice black magic and use sacrifice as part of their rituals. But the sacrifices are usually animals and they tend to follow cycles of the seasons..." Blair froze, a stunned expression on his face. "Oh man, why didn't I connect this?."
"What?" Banks asked.
"Talk about going completely brain dead. What were the dates of the murders?" Blair asked, standing up to look at the files spread out on the desk.
"The first body was found on December 22nd and the Coroner put the time of death around midnight of the 21st. The second was found on March 22nd with the date and time of death between 11 a.m. and 4 p.m. on the 20th." Banks thumbed through the different folders to find the information. He didn't know what he was looking for yet, but the way Sandburg was putting the information together might just give him the answers.
"Was the third found on June 21st?" Blair asked, his eyes focused on the folders in Simon's hands. Jim just shrugged his shoulders at the questioning look sent to him by his captain. He could feel that Blair was on to something but didn't want to stop the direction he was going. Simon looked back down at the folder concerning the dead woman and gave him the information.
"Around 2 p.m. on the 21st. She was found by a cemetery employee that was preparing for an evening funeral. Time of death was estimated at around 9 a.m. that morning. What do these dates mean, Sandburg. It's obvious you know something."
"Oh, man. Oh, man! I am, like, so lame to not see what was happening. And this last one happened on September 23rd?" Blair started pacing around the office.
"Sometime around midnight of the 22nd. Sandburg," Banks voice brought the younger man's attention back to him. "Spill it! What's so significant about the dates?"
"The seasonal cycles. The killer is definitely on a major power trip here by doing his or her killing on those specific dates. December 21st was Winter Solstice, March 20th was the Spring Equinox, June 21st was..."
"Summer Solstice and the longest day of the year," Jim provided, seeing where his friend was taking them.
"Right! And the last one was the Autumn Equinox, September 23rd. I'm surprised there wasn't a body found on May 1st, which was Beltane or Lammas night on August 1st. Oh, um...sorry guys. It's not...like I didn't..." Blair suddenly stopped his rambling and had the good sense to look embarrassed when he realized what he had said. Quickly, he sat back down next to his partner and slunk down into the seat.
"Okay, so we've got some wacko out there who's killing people that supposedly have special gifts in some type of ritual on specific nights of the change in the seasons. And Sandburg thinks that it might be a group of witches. The Commissioner is going to love this!" Banks leaned back into his chair and gave the two men in front of him a look of exasperation.
"Well, um...Simon, I'm not really sure that it's witches. Like I was telling Jim earlier, there is the use of the sweet grass and the mushroom and the pattern of the stones and Native Americans also revere the different times of the earth and the sun. Some of their ceremonies are performed on those specific dates. But with a coven ceremony, they would use incense and maybe just the chloral hydrate if they were even thinking of doing a human sacrifice, which is a pretty rare thing anyway. Haven't heard about one of those in a long time. The mushrooms were used in ancient Native American ceremonies to allow the medicine men or warriors to receive visions. There would also be more evidence of people around the murder sites with a coven. Their rituals involving any type of sacrifice would require the use of their whole group, which numbers 13."
"That's right, Simon," Jim jumped in to help his partner. "I'm sure that the areas didn't have that many people tramping around them and I didn't find any evidence that they were brushed clean. I could barely see that there was evidence of one or two people at each of the scenes. The killer could have carried the victims there."
"So, gentlemen. Where do we go from here? What other 'gift' could this person want? What's the next cycle, Sandburg?" Banks asked.
"Well, it's past Lammas, so it looks like the next one should not be until Winter Solstice again, December 21st. Maybe the killer is just following the solar seasonal cycles. As for a gift, there's levitation, telekinesis, divination, ... "
"I get the point. We'll just have to contact whatever society puts on those psychic fairs and see if they have a listing of the practitioners around town. Also, check to see if there's going to be another one of those things put on before that date. Get on it and I'll try to think of a way to explain this to the Commissioner without him going off on me." Simon followed his words by handing back the case files and making a brushing motion with his hands towards the door.
After Blair closed the office door behind him, he quickly moved up to Jim's side. "Jim. I've got an appointment to talk to Professor Tallman tomorrow."
"And he is?"
"The visiting professor from Washington State. He would know about the burning of sweet grass and the use of hallucinogenic mushrooms. Maybe he also knows about the pattern with the stones and can shed some light on this case. Would you be able to be there around 11:00?" Blair looked expectantly at his partner.
"Sure, Chief. Your office, and are you going to need a ride tomorrow?" Ellison sat back down at his desk.
"Yeah, my office and yes, I'll need a ride to the garage if you're going in early. They open at 6:00 a.m. and promised to have the car ready for pick up then. I hadn't driven it for so long, the carburetor must have been gunked to the gills. I was lucky to have gotten it to work as long as it did," Blair replied and then held his hand out towards his partner. "Since I know you aren't ready to leave, hand over some of the paperwork and let's see what I can get done by the time you finally get tired. You need some coffee, too?"
Jim just smiled and reached for a short stack that sat near a corner and handed it along with his coffee cup to his friend. "You're the best secretary I've ever had, Chief."
"I'm the only secretary you've ever had, Jim Ellison," Blair mumbled on his way to the break room. "I'm probably the only one who can decipher your writing."
"I heard that, Sandburg," Jim called out to the retreating back. In a low pitched voice for his only ears came back an "I know."
Hargrove Hall, Midmorning, October 13
To have a day appear in October in Washington state, where the sun was shining brightly in a cloudless, blue sky and the temperature hovered in the mid 60's, was too much for Blair to resist. He had gotten to his office before the sun had risen above the trees to work on some of the papers that needed grading and the results posted for his professor's classes. The university had understood why he had been absent from his job for several months, and were somewhat ashamed that there hadn't been any security anywhere near his building that fateful day back in May. Despite that, Blair made sure he didn't abuse the generosity extended towards him.
However, as the sun appeared and move upwards through the clear sky, also causing the temperature to rise, he finally decided to escape and catch a few rays in the courtyard. Jim wasn't due for another half an hour for their meeting with Professor Tallman. That would be plenty of time for Blair to bask in the warm rays and do a little meditation or maybe even a power nap.
He picked a special bench that sat in an open area but was away from the traffic around his building. It would be empty at this time of the day, since there were classes in session that wouldn't be over until noon. Sitting as comfortably as one could on a wooden bench, Blair closed his eyes and started taking slow, deep breaths to calm his mind, and began relaxing the different muscle groups within his body.
As his ministrations calmed his mind, Blair became very conscious of the connection between him and his Sentinel. Our bond, he thought with a smile He visualized it as a strong, thick, golden cord that extended from his body and led off in the direction of the precinct. It comforted him to see the strength in the cord and 'feel' the connection with his friend. Jim's obviously not doing anything stressful or intense. I wonder if we could experiment on trying to alert each other through this connection, Blair mused to himself. Only, it would take some convincing to even allow me to use the word experiment in a sentence around Jim. The man hates tests.
Turning his mind away from those thoughts, Blair decided to see if he could reach for his spirit guide. He didn't know if he would be able to call to it without proper preparation or if he had to be on a specific spirit journey, but what the heck. The joy he had felt when the wolf had accepted him and he in turn accepted the animal as part of himself was indescribable. He had once tried to tell Jim about the experience, but the words wouldn't come out of his mouth right. Jim was almost in shock at Blair's inability to articulate the happening. But he also understood and had told his speechless friend that he also had difficulty with telling about his experiences concerning the black cat he called his spirit guide.
Blair first visualized the open area in the jungle where he had met his guide. "Hey, wolf! You around here?" He mentally called out. "I'm not sure what to call you since you haven't told me your name. Or am I supposed to think up one for you?"
Blair felt the animal's appearance in his mind rather than saw him come running into the opening. It was like feeling a bundle of energy bound into the area, the exuberance of one very happy to see another. Concentrating harder, Blair finally 'saw' the animal sitting in front of him, bushy tail brushing the ground and mouth open with a clear, wolf-type grin. It radiated pleasure towards the other at being called. Blair 'reached' his hand out to touch the animals face when it suddenly stood up and faced away from him with a growl. It's whole body looked alert, tense, sending a warning of something or someone approaching that it wasn't sure about and didn't trust.
A shadow covered Blair, blocking the warm sun. Quickly coming back to himself with a jerk, he opened his eyes and saw the outline of a man in front of him holding on to a tall stick. "Oh, man! Professor Tallman. You startled me," He said, sitting up quickly and shading his eyes to see the person in front of him. Why had his spirit guide acted so hostile towards this man?
"I didn't mean to startle you, Blair. You looked so peaceful sitting here that I hated disturbing you. Did you have a good journey?" The professor asked, sitting down next to the young man.
Professor George Tallman was of obvious, Native American heritage with the ruddy, red complexion, high cheek bones, piercing dark eyes and long, straight, blue-black hair tied neatly back. Only the few strands of silver in the lengthy mass gave any clue that the man was older than he actually appeared. While most of the professors at Rainier dressed in suitcoats with ties, and required all teaching fellows to look appropriate when teaching, Tallman was different. He preferred to wear blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a string tie with a silver, turquoise, and coral clip with his western cut shirts. He was dressed this way now and also carried a walking stick capped with silver that came up to the middle of his chest.
"Uh, journey? I don't...~ahem~...I was just taking a quick power nap. Couldn't resist making use of the sun since we don't really see it too much in the winter, sir," Blair quickly said, trying to make his obvious lie believable under the penetrating gaze directed towards him.
The other man quickly smiled, confirming to Blair that he knew the statement was a lie and accepted the other's desire for privacy. "Ah, I understand. Such journeys are special and should be kept to oneself or only related to the closest of companions. But I can tell there has been a great change in you since we last spoke in the spring. You have finally accepted who you are and what you have. It is a great thing, is it not?"
The discussion began to make Blair feel a little uneasy and he dropped his gaze to his lap. He almost felt like a mouse trapped under the intense gaze of a hungry eagle, and he couldn't understand why. Rather than try his obsfucation skills any further, he decided to change the direction of the conversation. "Um...yeah. Hey, I've got a friend, my roommate, who's going to join our meeting if you don't mind. I was telling him of some of the discussions we've had concerning ancient Native American ceremonies and he'd like to sit in with us."
The professor stood back up with the use of his walking stick. Blair could see that the movement showed a stiffness with one leg but then the man moved back smoothly, barely utilizing the support. "No, I don't mind. Having someone listen to my tales in hopes that they will repeat them to others is what a story teller such as I dream about. Do you want to go to your office now? We can enjoy some of that great tea you keep there while we wait for your friend and maybe tell a few tales between each other."
"That's great, sir. I picked up some new stuff that I got while I was down in South America. It has a great flavor, is very calming and supposed to be good for the joints." Blair headed for the building, keeping his pace slower than normal to allow the older man, who had a barely discernible limp, to walk comfortably beside him. His glances at the walking stick caught the professor's attention.
"I see that you are interested in my companion here. I don't need to use it as much as I just like having it with me," Tallman said, lifting and extending the walking stick towards Blair.
Blair blushed and smiled an apology. "I didn't know you used one but then the last times we talked were always in your office. The symbol you have carved into it. Isn't that the Thunderbird?" Blair was rewarded with a pleased smile from the other.
"Yes, a very powerful spirit from my people's history. I will tell you about him while we wait for your friend. Mostly I carry this around to look distinguished to the other professors. They also hold back on any comments about my mode of dress when I lecture." Both men laughed. Blair held the door to Hargrove Hall open to allow the other to proceed into the building and then followed.
It was almost 11:20 when Ellison pulled his truck into the university parking lot. He knew that he was late but also knew that Blair understood the requirements of police work. Quickly, he trotted up the stairs to Hargrove Hall and made his way down to the lower level where Blair's 'office' was located. Out of habit, he extended his hearing towards his friend's location.
"I do not wish to intrude on what you want to keep secret, but the energy you now display is fascinating," a voice Jim didn't know said. "Your absence over the last several months must have truly been an experience to bring about such a change in your spirit."
"I...well...took this retreat and...uh...learned to get more in touch with myself. You remember me telling you about the East Indian training my mother had been going through and she recommended this seminar that sounded so great. I guess it did more than I thought it would." Jim could hear the nervousness in his partner's voice and the acceleration of his heart as he tried to maneuver around the topic. The two of them had discussed Blair's experience at great length when they had returned from Peru. Both had agreed that it was something that would remain between them and Simon.
Hoping his interruption would do the trick, Jim knocked briskly on the office door and opened it without waiting for an invitation. The relief he saw in Blair's face let him know that his action was welcome.
"Hey, Chief. Sorry I'm late but you know how I tend to get lost in my work," Jim said and then took a good look at the person who had been making his partner so nervous. The older man sitting in front of Blair's desk was good at hiding his expression but Jim was able to catch the slight widening of his eyes and heard the man's heart speed up as he looked quickly from Jim to Blair and then back again. The face then went back to a passive politeness.
"Jim. Thanks for coming, man. I was wondering if you were going to make it or not." Blair stood up looking relieved and, after removing a stack of books from a chair sitting off to the side, set it down so that Jim would be sitting between himself and the other man.
Smiling politely, Jim came forward and extended a hand. "Professor Tallman, I presume. Sandburg has told me about your specialty and why you're here at Rainier. How do you do. Jim Ellison."
"George, please Mr. Ellison," Tallman said standing and clasping the hand extended to him.
"Then call me Jim, sir." Both men appeared to be judging each other with the handshake. Then, as if each were satisfied with what they found, the men released hands and took their chairs.
"Jim is a detective with the Cascade P.D., Professor. There are some, uh, things involved with a case that he's working on that seem to fall into your field, sir." Blair broke in when he felt the silent studying between the two men had become too lengthy.
"Please forgive me for staring, Jim, but I was not expecting someone like you," Tallman finally said with a sheepish grin. "When Blair told me that his roommate would be joining us here, I expected another such as he, an academic. But as usual, he surprises me and presents a roommate that is a policeman and, if I haven't lost my ability to read people, former military?"
Jim just looked at the man calmly. "Yes, I was a while back but that hasn't created many problems in our friendship."
"Ah, and a very strong one that I can see."
"Well," Blair jumped in to change the direction of the conversation. "I know that you've got a busy schedule today, sir, so I wonder if you would explain to Jim how or why the flycap mushroom would be used in a ritualistic ceremony?"
Settling back into his chair, Tallman's voice took on a tone that Blair recognized as a teaching voice. "That mushroom is not used any longer since the government has accepted the use of peyote with our religious ceremonies. And even that has high restrictions because of its hallucinogenic nature. Flycap mushrooms are very toxic if too much is ingested but they were frequently used in many vision quests of ancient tribes because of the intense visions a warrior could and would receive. Some medicine men would use the mushroom to assist them when they wanted to perform spirit walks to chase demons or other evil creatures from a patient. With many it caused dizziness, nausea and numbing in the extremities. The visions would then follow. That would have been dangerous depending on where the user was when performing their ceremony."
"How much would be considered too much and what should be done in the case of an overdose?" Jim asked leaning forward.
"How much is too much would all depend on the person taking it and whether or not they had fasted prior to use. If the user had fasted, the onset of reactions could be fairly quickly. Maybe 30 to 45 minutes, but body weight would be a factor also. For an overdose, atropine is the only known antidote and it should be administered as soon as possible in the event of that."
Blair cleared his throat to catch Tallman's attention, which seemed way too focused on his friend for comfort. He felt uneasy at the gleam in the professor's eyes. "Professor, if someone is known to have certain abilities or a special gift such as ESP, how would using of the mushroom affect them."
Breaking his gaze, Tallman turned his attention back to Blair. "Certain gifts like you suggest are thought to manifest in parts of the human brain that scientists have very little knowledge. Because the hallucinogenic properties of the mushroom do effect the brain, it could possibly increase a person's ability or disrupt it. I am not aware of any studies concerning that idea but would be curious about the results if there ever was one done."
"Is sweet grass used only in ceremonies?"
"Actually, it can be used at any time. I use it with my prayers and meditations. It is to help the vision questor, the medicine man, a warrior preparing for battle or anyone wanting to cleanse their spirit and center their souls. You use incense when you meditate do you not, Blair?" At the nod from the younger man, Tallman continued. "We are taught the need for balance and a clean spirit if we are to walk the other worlds or say prayers to our deities."
Reaching down into his backpack, Blair pulled out the paper with the drawing he took at the cemetery. "Does this look familiar, sir? I know I've seen it somewhere but can't remember, now."
Looking carefully at the drawing, the expression on Tallman's face stilled and then hardened. "The pattern is of a medicine wheel. If the stones are laid properly, and through the appropriate ceremony, they can draw on strong earth medicine. A very powerful tool." As if a switch was flipped, Tallman's facial cast changed back to one of polite indifference. "Is there anything else you need to know to help your investigation, Jim? Detective?"
Realizing the question was directed to him, Jim pulled his attention back to the men in front of him. With the information the professor was providing, Blair was probably right in saying the killer was mixing the practices of two different religions. "Just one thing more, if you don't mind. Would there be any reason for someone who practices the rituals of your people to mix in, say props or practices of another religion?"
"A true medicine man, or Shaman of a tribe would be wrong to do so and would never try. It would be like blaspheme. He would probably not receive the answers looked for or the visions requested would be tainted by not being true to the teachings of The Way. By the questions being asked, I assume your case has such confusing attributes?"
"I'm sorry, sir. I can't say anything at this..."
"...time in order to protect the integrity of the investigations. I understand the restraints placed upon you. I have worked with tribal police and have been a consultant once or twice on things they have been looking into. But now I am afraid that I must be rude and end this meeting since I'm due to meet with a group from my tribe and historians from the university to discuss the handling of the burial site found." Tallman picked up the walking stick he had placed beside his chair and stood up, ending any further questions. He extended his hand to Jim, who also stood up. "I am happy to have met you, Jim. Good luck in your investigation. Blair, I'll see you around campus."
"Thanks for the time, Professor," Blair said, moving quickly to the door and opening it for the man to exit his office. He also extended his hand as the man reached the door. "If it's allowed, I'd like to take a look at the burial site some time. It's not often that something like that is found so close to home."
"I will make sure you have a chance to see it." Tallman took the offered hand and held tightly on to it, staring into Blair's face. "Yes, your professors have high praise for your field work so I am sure I can get you up to the site. Tomorrow?"
Blair looked at Jim and didn't see any negative expression. "Sure. I'm usually in here early so just let me know the time."
"I'll have my assistant stop by around 8:00 to get you." He then released the grip and walked out the door and down the hall.
"Want to go to lunch, Chief?" Jim asked, walking up behind friend.
"Huh? Lunch? Yeah, that'd be great, Jim," Blair answered vaguely as he continued to watch the retreating back of Professor Tallman.
"Something wrong, Sandburg?" Jim said stepping out of Blair's office to watch the professor, blocking the other's line of sight.
"What? Oh, nothing really. Remember that feeling I said I had at the cemetery? Like someone was looking me over and judging me?"
"Yeah. You feel it again, right?"
A pleased smile blossomed on Blair's face. "Right! Man, I told you we need to test you for ESP abilities."
"No, Chief. I just know you. Besides, it didn't take ESP to know that guy could see something about us that he didn't want to come right out and ask about. He tried to keep any expression off of his face but wasn't fast enough." Jim stopped in the hall and waited until Blair closed and locked his door. Both men walked towards the stairs to the exit.
"If he could see our bond the way I was able to this afternoon, I'm surprised he didn't question me about it, too."
Jim held the exit door open and allowed Blair to proceed him out of the building and down the steps. "I heard his last question to you as I neared your office. What was that about?"
"You know how it is outside, Jim. Well, I couldn't resist the sun this morning and he surprised me. Since I had about a half an hour before the meeting, I decided to take a break and sat at the bench around back to do a little meditation. There wasn't anyone about so I was just relaxing and seeing what I could do. I was able to see our bond easy enough so I tried to go a little deeper and connect with my spirit guide." Blair's hands became more animated and Jim smiled at his friend's enthusiasm. "It was awesome, Jim! I just pictured that clearing back in Peru and he came up to greet me. And he looked really happy that I had called to him. But when I reached out to touch him, he swung around and went growling into a type of guard mode. I opened my eyes and the professor was standing there, blocking my sun. Somehow, he knew what I had been doing, He told me how I had changed and that I had finally accepted what I was supposed to be. It was really strange, man."
Reaching the truck, Jim first unlocked the passenger side for Blair and then walked around to his side. Before he reached his door, he froze and quickly turned toward the park across from Hargrove Hall. His eyes skimmed over the couple kissing under the tree, past the two guys tossing a football back and forth, to settle on Professor Tallman talking to a younger man. The professor had his back to Jim but the other guy was looking straight at him. He was as tall as the professor, and certainly of similar heritage, but lankier. Where the professor dressed in a conservative look of his race, the other almost flaunted the different symbols declaring him a Native American and allowed his long hair to fall freely about his face. He leaned heavily on a plain, wooden cane.
"Who's that guy talking to Tallman, Chief?" Jim asked. The subject of his inquiry had quickly focused his attention back onto the professor when he saw Jim looking his way. He acted flustered that he had been caught staring by the detective.
"Who?" Blair leaned across the seat to get a better look. "Oh, that's Charlie Walker, his assistant. He's a third year Archeology student that was lucky enough to be a part of Tallman's crew. I heard he's only a mediocre student so I don't know who he knew to get picked except they do come from the same tribe. He's always spooked me out. Why?"
Shaking his head, Jim climbed into the truck. "Well, this time I felt like someone was breathing down my neck. When I looked around I saw that we were the object of his attention and, as Simon would say, my spidey senses are tingling. I think I'll do a background check on the professor and his assistant just to satisfy this nagging feeling I have."
"You keep adding on to your senses, Jim, and I'll really make my fame and fortune by entering you into the Guinness book." Blair giggled. He shifted back in his seat but wasn't able to move away fast enough to avoid the backhanded swing Jim took at his arm. That made the younger man laugh all the harder, especially when Jim gave him his patented look of exasperation.
Major Crimes Unit, Early Morning, October 20
"Aw, man. I think there should be a law that says you're not allowed to even be out of bed before the sun rises," Blair grumbled as he shuffled towards his partner's desk with two cups of coffee. "Tell me why we had to be here this early in the morning."
Jim reached for the cup extended towards him. "If you would ever learn what is considered a reasonable time to go to bed at night, Sandburg..."
"I know. Moderation is the key but I promised to finish grading those papers for Professor Deely's grad assistant. I really owe him for all that he did while I was out. I've got another TA coming here to pick them up so I can spend some time helping you. I know I've been a little scarce over the past couple of days. Besides, we never expected to stay up at that burial site for so long. You should have come along, Jim. The professor did ask about you."
"I told you that I understood your requirements to the university, Chief. I'm also glad you two had a good time wandering around some Indian camp. But that's not my idea of fun. How did he act yesterday? Any more personal questions?" Jim asked, going through the papers on his desk.
"No. He was completely professional and focused on the site. I sorta got the willies from Charlie, though. He kept watching me and then acted like he was trying to keep his distance from me. And you'll never guess what I found up there." Blair looked at his friend expectantly and was rewarded when the other stopped what he was doing and looked up. "A stone pattern that was very similar to the ones at the murder scenes. Only these look like they had been there for some time."
"So it looks like your theory is becoming more than that."
Blair leaned back in the chair at his area and closed his eyes. "I don't know, man. Something just doesn't feel right. Anything happen while I was gone?"
"Not a thing. Except for the cemetery murders, the city has been pretty quiet and I was able to get some work done."
"Oh, man! You had to go and do it, didn't you." Blair exclaimed slapping a hand to his forehead in a dramatic manner.
Jim looked up confused. "What?"
"You jinxed us. Never, I mean never talk about how calm or easy something is going. Murphy has just been waiting to jump on us."
"Sandburg," Ellison growled.
"Bickering this early in the morning, fellas?" Megan commented walking up to the two men. Blair noticed that she looked entirely too awake and alert for this time in the morning.
"Isn't it a little early for you, Connor? I thought you had a hearing at 11:00." Jim growled.
"Oh, I do but that doesn't mean a need to slough off before then. Besides, I thought you might be interested in this police report that was received from Cascade General this weekend. Seems they had admitted a gentlemen on Friday who claimed that he had been kidnapped and drugged." Connor handed the report to Ellison. He just put the paperwork on a pile on his desk, continuing with the documents in front of him
"The lab report confirms that he had been drugged...with chloral hydrate." Megan got the reaction she had been waiting for. Jim looked up at her and then grabbed the medical report back off of the pile he had placed it and started reading.
Cascade General Hospital, General Wing
"Carl Washman, age 35, owner of the Running Store. Claims he had been out doing his normal 10-mile morning run last Tuesday around 5 a.m. He told the officer-in-charge that he thought he had heard a vehicle come up behind him when something struck him in the back. That's the last he remembers until he woke up down along the docks late Thursday night," Megan informed Blair and Jim as the three walked through the hospital corridor towards a nurses station. "He was diagnosed as being dehydrated and suffering from the effects of the drug."
"Is he only a store owner?" Blair asked. By the confused look the inspector gave him he explained. "I mean does he have ties to any of the psychic or paranormal groups around town."
"Just looks like he belongs to the Runner's Club off of Main, a small businessman's group and the local Sierra Club," Jim answered and then got the attention of an elderly nurse behind the station by flashing his police badge. "I'm looking for Carl Washman's room." The woman had been ignoring the three until she caught the flash of the badge.
"He's in 321, down the hall and around the corner on the left," She replied tersely. "He's being checked out today but I don't think he's left yet, detective." Ellison turned abruptly and took long strides in the direction given, Connor close on his heels.
Sandburg, making up for his partner's rudeness, gave the nurse a quick 'thank you' and then followed after the other two. "Way to go on keeping up the good relations with the hospital, man." Blair's whisper was only loud enough for his Sentinel to hear but it had the desired effect. Jim slowed his pace and allowed the other two to catch up with him.
"Mr. Washman?" Jim asked knocking on the door to room 321. Inside was a tall, lean, young man packing a book into a running bag. He looked up at the three people entering his room.
"I'm Detective Ellison, Cascade P.D. This is Inspector Connor and Blair Sandburg. I understand you reported being attacked and drugged Tuesday morning?"
"Yes. That's what I told the policeman in the emergency room. I thought I had answered all the questions there."
"Just a few more questions, sir. You also stated that you don't remember anything from Tuesday until you woke up on Thursday. Is that correct?" The man just nodded at Jim's question. His confusion visible on his face. "You didn't wake up any time during those three days?"
Washman opened his mouth and started to say no when he stopped. Looking down at his hands, he saw that they were shaking slightly. Clearing his throat, he spoke quietly. "I thought it was a dream or something, but I think I sort of woke up once or twice. I don't remember seeing a face, but there were these hands in front of me and they were holding a cup. Then the cup was pushed against my face and what ever was in it was poured down my throat. I remember not being able to stop it. Then nothing."
"What about where you were at? Can you think of anything about the place that stays in your mind? Strange noises, different smells, that it was bright or dark?" Jim heard Blair shift out of the room, take a few breaths and then step back in. He probably flashed on a memory. Jim glanced over at his friend and was rewarded with a grim smile and a dismissing wave of his hand.
Shaking his head, Washman continued to look down. "Only that it was cold, dark and damp. I'm sorry."
Taking a deep breath, Jim hesitantly asked the next question. "I know this may seem strange to ask, sir, but do you have any special...ah, abilities. Something that could have made you a target?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, Detective. What type of abilities?"
Seeing the detective struggle, Connor stepped forward. "What Detective Ellison means is are you connected to any type of psychic or paranormal organization?"
"You've got to be kidding, right?" The man gave Megan a look of disbelief and then looked at Jim to confirm the question asked. The detective's face was straight and absolutely serious. "No. I don't believe in that stuff. It's just another scam to steal money from the gullible. Why?"
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Washman. We're sorry to have bothered you," Ellison said abruptly, turned and quickly left the room. "I felt like an ass asking that question," he mumbled when they had traveled down the hall to the elevator.
"You didn't ask it. I did." Megan was rewarded with a sharp look.
"There had to be some reason why this guy was kidnapped and drugged, Jim." Blair pitched his voice at a gentle level to try and placate the angry man. "I mean, doesn't your average kidnapper use chloroform, knock their victims on the head or something like that?"
Ellison sighed. "I don't know what to think, Chief. Maybe we're just grasping at straws. Let's just get out of here and back at the precinct. This whole thing just might have been coincidental."
Hargrove Hall, Early Afternoon, 26 October
The haunting, breathy tones of a wood flute could easily be heard through the door to Artifact Storage Room 3. Displayed on the door was a hand written sign that read 'Blair Sandburg.' The sad but serene tune wove its simple melody around the empty hall outside the room. Inside, the room's lone occupant sat at his desk, totally immersed in the large tome opened in front of him. It was the hesitant sound of someone clearing their throat in the direction of the door that broke his concentration, causing him to jerk up in surprise. Charlie Walker leaned against the door jam.
"Sorry, Blair. Didn't mean to scare you but there wasn't any easier way to get your attention. Good choice of tunes."
"Oh! Hey, Charlie. No problem, man. You know how it is when you're studying something that's really cool," Blair replied with a hesitant smile towards the student and leaned back to turn down the volume on the stereo. "How can I help you?"
The younger man limped further into the office, leaning heavily on his cane. "Professor Tallman sent me over with an invite. He's having a get together on Friday night to thank everyone that has been involved with the burial site and thought you might want to attend. Said he might also do some official telling of tribal stories. Gonna do authentic food and the whole nine yards. Can you make it?"
"Hey, I'd love to...no, wait. This Friday night?" Blair grabbed his day planner from his backpack and flipped through the pages until he found what he wanted. "Sorry, but I can't. A friend and I've already made some plans out-of-town for the weekend and we're leaving that morning. Damn! I'm really going to hate missing out."
"Your friend that guy I saw you with last week? You looking at joining the military or something, man? He sure looked like a poster child for the recruiting offices." Charlie laughed at the embarrassed look on the other's face.
"No, I'm not joining up but yes, Jim's my friend and roommate. He may be ex-military, but he's cool." Blair looked the other firmly in the eye to make his point. He was getting a funny feeling about the questions the student was asking. Remembering how Jim had felt when he had caught Charlie staring at them, Blair tried to think where the questioning was going.
"Hey, I'm cool with that." Charlie raised a hand in a placating manner. "When I saw you two walking out of the building last week, I couldn't help but see that you were comfortable with the man despite the fact that you two are as different as night and day. Roommate? How did you two hook together? He looks like he's in really great shape. Does he work out much?"
"Yeah, he does. Sort of a habit from his time in the Army and a need for his current job." The conversation was really going in a direction that bothered Blair. An inner feeling nudged at him to not reveal any more, especially how and why Jim and he were rooming together. "Hey, tell the professor I'm sorry that I can't make it but maybe next time."
"No prob, man. I'm sure he'll understand." Charlie limped towards the door and started to move through it when he stopped and turned abruptly. "Hey, I almost forgot to say welcome back. Heard about what had happened and I'm glad you're okay, now. You've changed, too. That thing that happened in May, I'm really sorry and hope they caught the creep."
The intensity of the eyes looking at him startled and confused Blair for a moment. The brown orbs staring into his blue ones held him frozen for a moment. He felt like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Then just as quickly, he was released.
"Uh...yea. I...mmm...understand that she was caught in some other country. Not much of a chance of her ever returning, knowing how foreign jails are." Blair knew his answer sounded a little lame but he didn't know what else to say. That look had rattled him. Fortunately, nothing else was needed. Charlie flashed him a wide, friendly smile, turned and left the office. A faint 'see ya' was heard from the hall.
"Relax, man," Blair mumbled to himself as he sat back down at his desk. Taking a deep, cleansing breath and releasing it, he used both hands to push his hair back from his face. First there was the professor talking like he could see a change in Blair that he himself couldn't even feel and asking questions that couldn't easily be answered. Now, the guy's assistant is also acting a little strange around him and asking personal questions.
Things seemed to be getting a little tense there for a minute. Charlie is just a third year Archeology student, transferred into the program last fall after the discovery of the burial. The professor comes over here last fall to assist with the cataloging of the site and makes Charlie his personal assistant. Blair's mind struggled to make sense of the feelings he was having about the situations concerning the two men. Coincidental enough to tell Jim? I think I'd better. Picking up his phone, he dialed the number to the station.
Major Crimes, Same Day
"I hope you don't mind us taking the weekend off, Simon," Jim explained to his captain as he followed him towards his office. "Sandburg believes, and I agree, that we probably have some time before we have to worry about another body being found. The killer has only struck on the dates of the solar equinoxes and the next one is not until December. Besides, if we stay around the loft for Halloween, I know he'll find a way to get me into a costume that I might have to kill him over."
"Is he still wanting you to meet that coed?" The teasing smile on the black man's face caused the detective to fidget.
"Exchange student, sir. And she's older than your average coed...or so he says. Anyway, since the weather is supposed to hold out for another week, we thought we'd head over to the Cascade National Forest for some fishing. Might allow us to clear our minds..." Rafe's raised voice interrupted Jim as he was closing the office door.
"Hey, Ellison. Line three. It's Sandburg."
Nodding to the younger detective, Jim looked at the Captain with a raised eyebrow. "May I?" he asked pointing to the phone. With a sigh, Simon motioned him to go ahead and then turned to his coffee maker. Jim pressed the button for the correct line and then tapped the speaker switch.
"Yeah, Chief. What do you need?" Jim asked, nodding his head as Simon offered him a cup of coffee.
"Hey, Jim. I hope I didn't interrupt anything important, man. I mean, you weren't grilling some poor schmuck that jaywalked in front of the bakery, were you? I know how busy you've all been." The cheerful tone and teasing manner caused Jim to roll his eyes and then look apologetic at the frown on Simon's face.
"You're on an official police phone line, Sandburg. Crack pot callers can be arrested," Simon spoke up and then shot a grin at the Jim.
"Oh, you're there, too. Sorry Captain. I just wanted to check with Jim and see if he's gotten anything on the background search on Tallman and Walker. The reason I'm asking is that I just had a strange visit with Charlie."
"What kind of strange, Chief? Normal strange or your type of strange." Jim smiled at his captain and had to smother a laugh when Simon mouthed 'Sandburg Zone' back at him.
"Ha, ha, man. I see you've been taking comedy lessons from Brown. I'm talking about a spooky strange. And it's more along the line of my new vocation, if you catch my drift." That caused the two men to become serious and sit up a little straighter in their chairs. "He was here to invite me to a party that the professor is having on Friday. Something along the lines of a traditional type get together that will involve Native American folklore. It just made something go off inside my head. That, and some questions he asked about you. Not to mention the way he acted before he left. I don't know, man. I think your brand of paranoia is starting to rub off on me."
"Nothing really concrete has come back yet on either of them. What questions did he ask?"
"He picked up that you were ex-military without me saying anything, and joked about you trying to get me to enlist. When I said that we were roommates, he seemed to perk and asked how we got together. I said nothing, of course. Then he asked about you being in shape and working out. I don't know, man. It just seemed like strange things to ask. We really don't know each other too well and he's never tried to be friendly like this with me before.
"Thanks, Chief. I'll push to get more detailed reports. Are you going to stay there much longer?" Jim didn't feel comfortable with what he just heard and wanted to keep track of his partner. He knew that he couldn't hover over the younger man like a worried hen, but Blair just acted too na‹ve about situations sometimes.
"Not too much longer. You need me there or can I just head straight to the loft?. It's too easy to be interrupted here and I found some great reference books on Native American ceremonies. Besides, I think it's my turn to cook tonight and I need to stop at the store for supplies."
Seeing Simon give him a negative shake to the questioning look, Jim gave his friend the answer he knew he was wanting. "I think we can make it the rest of the day without your expertise, Chief. I'll see you at home." Pressing the release button, Simon disconnected the line.
"What do you think is going on, Jim? Do you two believe that the Professor and his assistant are somehow involved in the cemetery murders?"
Taking a careful mouthful of the hot coffee and then gazing out the office window, Jim thought for a few seconds before answering. "I don't really know, sir. Tallman has all the knowledge for the type of ceremony that has been used with the killings but he was very serious about how a true practitioner of the medicine man's way wouldn't...the word he used was blaspheme...the ceremony with another religion's rituals. I was reading him while he was talking about it and he was serious about a true Shaman sticking with their practices. It's just some questions he had been asking about the change he said he could see in Sandburg that has me concerned."
"And what about the assistant?"
"I don't think he really could be the one we're looking for. The young man must have a pretty severe problem walking by the way he was depending on that cane I saw with him. And I didn't see any evidence of the killer having any problem walking or having used a cane at the sites. But he was really interested in us the other day and looked startled when I caught him staring. And now there is this conversation with Sandburg." Jim rubbed his hand over his face. "Maybe I'm just trying too hard to find any type of evidence. That's why I really want to get away for a couple of days. Maybe I just need some solitude to 'process' all the information, as Blair would say."
Not really wanting to say yes, Simon understood where his detective was coming from. "Okay. I'll grant annual time for you for the weekend. Just make sure you leave a number for the nearest ranger station in case we need to contact you."
"Thank you, sir. I'm sure that Sandburg will appreciate this, too." Jim gave his captain an appreciative grin.
"Get out of here, Ellison, and don't tell the kid that I caved in easily. I expect a couple of those fish you're intending to catch to end up in my freezer for this favor." The growl in the man's voice was offset by the twinkle in the eyes behind the gold frames. With a knowing nod, Jim stood up and left the office.
Hargrove Hall, Late Morning, October 30, 1998
Blair's dark scowl matched the angry muttering flowing from his mouth as he stomped into his office and slammed the door behind him. Dropping his backpack onto his desk, he collapsed into his chair and leaned back with his eyes closed. "I can't believe I had to be here for a meeting that never was scheduled in the first place. If I only had more seniority." After taking a few deep breaths to calm his temper, Blair leaned forward and dug his cell phone out of his pack. Punching the speed dial button, he leaned back again to try and relax his tense muscles.
"Hey, Jim...Yeah, it's over and it was an absolute farce. If I didn't know any better, I'd think someone called me in here just to mess up my weekend. I got to the Dean's office and sat there for an hour before the secretary came in. Then, she tells me that there wasn't any meeting scheduled and why was I there...What?...What's a snafoo?...Oh, yeah. That fits here all right. Listen, you can pick me up anytime and we'll just head out from here. My bag is just inside the door to my room... Thanks, man. I'll treat for lunch today, okay...See you in fifteen."
Closing up the phone, Blair smiled. He really was lucky to have a partner, roommate and friend like Jim. They had both gotten up early this morning to leave on their fishing trip and were just finishing breakfast when the phone rang. It was someone calling for the secretary to the Dean of the Anthropology Department telling Blair there was a special meeting called for 9:00 that morning at the university. He wouldn't give any explanation but told him that he was expected to be there and on time.
Blair could see a little irritation on Jim's face when he learned of the change in their plans, but he never voiced it. He just gave his partner a resigned smile and offered to drop him off at the university for the meeting. He would go get their supplies at a nearby market in the mean time. Blair was to call when he was ready to be picked up and then they would leave for their vacation from the university.
After spending several minutes organizing the clutter on his desk, Blair looked at his watch and then gathered his backpack to leave. He had just started for the door when the phone on his desk rang. He debated picking it up or not, fearful that it was another demand from the department to further delay his time off. Duty finally won and he reached for the phone.
"Blair Sandburg," he said into the receiver and then braced himself. "Hi, Tina. What do you need?...You want me at the library...Tina, I'm getting ready to leave for a couple...An envelop marked urgent? Okay, give me a few minutes and I'll be right over." Hanging up, he grabbed a pen and pad of paper and scribbled a quick note telling Jim where he went and to wait for him there. Leaving the note on his backpack, he stepped out of the office.
As Blair walked down the hall and around the corner, Charlie Walker came around the corner at the other end of the hall. He stepped into the vacated office with a tray in his hands that held two covered Styrofoam bowls. There wasn't anyone to witness that he wasn't using his cane or that he walked with only a minor limp.
Ellison's sensitive nose picked up the tantalizing scent of some type of chicken soup as he neared the office of his partner. The door was slightly ajar and he could tell by listening that the room was empty. Following his nose, he stepped up to the desk, saw a note written in Blair's handwriting lying across the two bowls and picked it up.
Jim. Had to run to the library. They're holding an urgent message for me. Be back in a couple of minutes. Remember, lunch is on me so don't leave.
Jim chuckled at the note as he laid it aside and picked up one of the bowls. His friend knew he wouldn't leave without him and wrote what he did to get a laugh. Carefully taking off the plastic lid, Jim inhaled the scent of an herbal cream of chicken and mushroom soup. If he tried hard enough, he knew that he would be able to pick out the different spices used to make it. But why do that if you really didn't have to. Besides, Sandburg wasn't there to make him. Reaching for a spoon on the tray, he noticed another note. It was in a handwriting he didn't know.
Mr. Sandburg. Compliments of Mrs. Mooney in the cafeteria. She knew you would have hated not getting a bowl of your favorite soup. Tina
If this tastes as good as it smell, Chief, it'll become my favorite, too. Sitting down in a chair, Jim ate a spoonful of the soup. He sighed with pleasure as the warm mixture slide down his throat.
"I wish I knew what in the hell was going on with people, today," Blair mumbled out loud as he trotted down the library steps and jogged back towards his building. "First the meeting that wasn't a meeting and then an a envelop marked urgent that's empty. What is this, trick or treat early?"
He had only swallowed a couple of spoonfuls of soup when Jim suddenly felt lightheaded and the room started weaving. Leaning forward to put the bowl back onto Blair's desk, it looked like the piece of furniture was pulling away from him. No matter how much he stretched, he couldn't get close enough to the desk to set the bowl on it. Then his fingers couldn't feel the bowl anymore and it fell from his hand, landing on the floor with a splash. The sound of it hitting the cement crashed against his ears and he brought his hand up to cut off the sounds. God, the noise!
Standing up quickly, Jim lost his balance, knocking over the chair behind him. The resulting crash stabbed through his head like a cannon blast. Dazed, confused and in great pain, Jim stumbled over against the wall, slammed into it and then crumpled down into a crouch. This put him into a stream of sunlight from the window that flared into his eyes with a blinding flash. With an anguished cry, he scrambled out of the light into a dark corner, burying his head into his arms and folding down to his lap. Jim gasped in pain as the tinniest sounds in the room deafened him. He could feel the coldness of the wall he was leaning against through his jacket and it felt like ice against his skin. He struggled to bring his out-of-control senses back into any type of control...and failed.
Blair noticed Jim's truck parked in front when he got back to his building. It wasn't in an authorized slot, but then they really didn't intend to be spending too much more time there anyway. He had stopped and smiled at the way his partner had parked when he felt a tugging sensation in his chest. Something was wrong. Turning in a slow circle, Blair tried to hone in on to the direction of the trouble. It was strongest from his building and that could only mean one thing. It was Jim and he needed help.
Racing into the building and down towards his office, Blair heard a sobbing cry from his partner within. He burst into the office, eyes searching around the room for the cause of his concern but not seeing anyone. There was a chair in front of his desk that was lying on its side and something splashed down the front of his desk.
"Jim?" Blair called out. He was rewarded with a scream that quickly died down to a whimper from a area behind his desk. Walking carefully around the desk, he finally saw his friend.
"Jim?" he said again, but in a much softer tone. The crouched figure moaned and then huddled further into the corner. Walking as carefully as possible, trying to make little or no noise, Blair moved towards Jim. Each step he took, no matter how soft it was, still caused the other to jerk. Finally Blair made it to the corner.
He's completely lost control! Blair thought frantically and slowly crouched down in front of the hurting man. Knowing that he had to make a physical connection to help guide the other back into control, Blair reached out with his left hand and lightly took hold of a clenched fist covering the head.
HOT! HOT! Jim's scrambled mind screamed at him. Get it off!!! Instinct took over. With an anguished cry, he grabbed the thing burning him and gave it a hard twist to make it let go. Then he pulled it around and slammed it against the wall next to him. The noise that the burning thing made when he had twisted it stabbed sharply at his ears, so he quickly released it and covered back up. There was now some type of bellows nearby and he struggled to shut out the sound.
Blair had heard the bones break before he felt the agonizing pain that flared through his wrist and along his left arm. After his first cry of pain, he quickly clenched his teeth and held back any further noises. It was obvious that every sound Jim heard was deafening and Blair tried to be as quiet as possible to prevent any further pain to his partner. He took several deeps breaths, trying to get past the initial pain of what must be a broken wrist. The appendage throbbed severely and he couldn't move the fingers. When he was able to get the pain down to a level he could handle, Blair turned back to the task at hand: bringing his Sentinel back into control.
Moving back in front of the now shivering man, Blair got down onto his knees. Cradling his arm against his chest, he quieted his breathing and felt for the bond he had with Jim, giving it a mental tug. The Sentinel's body froze for a moment and then the shivering returned. Blair tugged on the bond again and then, as softly as possible, called to his friend.
"Jim," Blair practically breathed the word. "It's okay. I'm here and I'm going to help you."
In his little world of agony, Ellison felt something pull at his soul. It was soft, comforting and full of promise. Then the pulling stopped and the agony surrounded him once more. Again, he felt the pulling and this time it stayed. He heard a clear voice loudly call his name, promising help. He knew that voice and trusted it completely. Like a drowning man, he grasped for the life line being thrown to him and listened carefully.
"Work with me, Jim," Blair whispered. "We can do this together. I want you to go to your dials and turn them all the way down. Let's do your hearing first, okay? Picture the dial and start turning it down...the sounds no longer hurt your ears. That's it." Blair could see the clenched lids of Jim's eyes relaxing. The man's breathing was also settling back down.
"Keep bringing it down. That's good, Jim. Very good. Keep bringing the dial down so that the only sound you can hear is my voice. You'll be able to hear nothing else but my voice. Okay?" The crouched body began to relax and Blair could see Jim's head tilting, focusing his hearing on the words.
"Now I want you to go to the dial that controls your tactile sense. How you feel things. I need to touch you, Jim, but you have to turn that dial all the way down so that I won't hurt you any more. Okay? Keep turning it down until your skin almost feels like it's numb...Got it?" Blair noticed that his friend's hands were relaxing. "Now I'm going to put my hand on yours and you'll just be able to feel it."
Releasing his injured arm, Blair reached out with a shaking right hand and softly touched his friend's hand. The other flinched. "Good, Jim. Bring it down a little more and my hand will only feel warm against your skin. I've got you now. It's gonna be okay, big guy."
Carefully, one by one, Blair was able to get Jim to dial down his remaining senses and sit down against the wall. His eyes were not seeing, his breathing was shallow, but Jim was no longer in any pain. If anything, his current condition could almost be described as catatonic. The problem for Blair now was how could he get his nearly unconscious Sentinel out of the building, to the truck and back to the loft. Blair couldn't take him to a hospital, knowing that his friend would be immediately locked up in a mental ward.
Just as he started moving to stand up and get his cell phone to call Simon, there was a light tap on the office door. George Tallman walked into the room without waiting to be invited. His eyes were met with the sight of a pale and hurting Sandburg, struggling to stand, and his silent roommate. Moving quickly, he helped the grad student stand up and walk over to a chair. The injured man sat down carefully so as to not jar his arm.
"What happened here, Blair? Are you all right? Do you need an ambulance?" The professor reached for the telephone but stopped dialing when Blair grabbed his arm.
"No, professor! Please. A doctor can't help Jim. Only I can. I need you to call a number for me." Panting in pain, Blair gave the number to the precinct. "It's to Captain Simon Banks of the Cascade P.D. Tell him that there's a problem with Jim and ask him to meet us at the loft. He'll know what I mean."
Tallman looked at the unmoving detective still sitting on the ground and then back at the student. "Please, sir. It'll be okay. We just have to get him home." Blair gave the man his most pleading look to convince him to agree. It worked. Dialing the number given to him, Tallman made the call.
Blair stood up and moved back over to his friend. "Jim, I need you to stand up and walk with me. If you're dizzy, lean on me. We're going to your truck."
With shaky and unsteady muscles, Jim slowly stood up and leaned against the wall. When he took a step away, his legs started to give way. Blair grabbed him with his good arm and helped the bigger man stand back up. The movement had jarred the injured wrist, causing the smaller man to groan in pain.
Hanging up the phone, Tallman rushed over to Ellison's free side and helped support him. "He wasn't there so I left a message with his secretary. What do we do now?"
Blair took a couple of deeps breaths to bring the pain back under control and then looked at the professor. "Just help me get him to his truck. It's right out in front. Jim's having a reaction to something I think he ate and a hospital won't know how to treat it. The only thing we can do is get him home."
"What about you? You're in a lot of pain."
"Later. Please, just help me or leave us alone!" Blair cried out and looked fiercely at the other man. Tallman took a better hold of the quiet body in his arms and helped lead him out of the office and out of the building.
Strangely enough, there was only a few people around the area and they didn't seem to pay any attention to the odd sight of two men helping a third out of the building and across the lawn. As usual, Jim had parked the vehicle just as he had driven it in with the driver's side towards the building. Blair and the professor had to walk into the street to get to the passenger side.
"Why are you here, sir?" Blair asked as the three traveled out of the building and towards the road. He needed to talk about anything to keep him mind off of the pain pulsing through his arm. "I thought you were having that party tonight?"
Tallman looked sharply at the student. "Party? What do you mean? I'm heading back home to see my family this weekend."
"Hold him right here, sir," Blair said, moving Jim to lean against the truck bed. He rifled through the older man's coat pockets, found the keys and turned to unlock to door. The pain in his wrist clouded his mind so much that he didn't hear the sound of a vehicle pull up beside them.
As he opened the passenger side door, Blair thought he heard Tallman start to say something. But the voice was cut off. Turning around, Blair first saw the open side door of a van. Then he saw Professor Tallman crumpled on the ground in front of it, blood pooling under his head. The last thing he saw was something shiny traveling towards his face. It connected with his cheek and jaw, snapping his head back against the truck, causing a black void to flood across his eyes. He didn't feel the hands that caught him before he fell, pulling him into the van.
852 Prospect, Late Afternoon, Same Day
It had been over an hour since Banks received the strange message from Rhonda. A professor from Rainier had called telling him to meet Sandburg and Ellison at their place. And the call had been almost two hours before that. Sitting in his car outside of the loft, Simon looked at his watch for the fifth time in ten minutes. Where are those two? Questions swirled around his mind and thoughts about the worse case scenario the two could be involved in. The message said that Ellison needed help and he was to meet Sandburg and him at the loft. At least it's not the kid this time, Banks sighed. The ringing of his cell phone brought his attention back to his surroundings.
"Banks...What?!...No, go ahead and let the paramedics take him. I'll meet you at the emergency room in fifteen minutes. Any sign of Ellison or Sandburg?...Okay, have Rafe go with Connor and start checking around to see if they can find anyone who might have seen anything." Closing the phone and tossing it on the seat next to him, Simon started the car, yanked the shift into gear, and sped off in a squeal of rubber.
Cascade Hospital, Same Day
Det. Henri Brown was pacing the lobby of the emergency room, a cell phone held to his ear, when Banks came through the doors. "He just got here, Rafe... I'll tell him."
"What's going on?" Simon asked the detective as soon as the other had disconnected the line. "Where's Tallman?"
Brown pointed towards a screened off area where a uniformed officer stood. "He was found unconscious, bleeding and lying inside the passenger side of Ellison's truck. He must have been hit with something pretty hard to the side of the head."
"Anyone see what happened?"
"A student told Rafe that she had seen Tallman helping Sandburg carrying Ellison through the building and out the front. He was looking ill and having a hard time walking. But she didn't follow them outside. Connor talked to the couple that had found Tallman. It was around Noon and they had been walking to class. They had noticed a van pull in front of Ellison's truck parked in front of Sandburg's building but didn't pay too much attention to it. Later, when they were walking back, they saw the truck still sitting there but the passenger side door was propped open. The boy checked it out and found the professor lying unconscious across the seat. That's when they called security and then security called us."
"And no one got a license on the van, did they?" Brown just shook his head and looked at his captain expectantly.
Banks rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the headache building behind his eyes. "Has he come to yet?"
"Doc's with him now. I told him that we had to speak to Tallman as soon as possible."
"Okay. I'll stay here and wait. You get back to the university and see if you can find Tallman's assistant, Charlie Walker. Also, have someone go over Sandburg's office."
"Already did, sir. Looked like there had been some type of a commotion. Found a bowl of some type of soup on the floor near the desk and a full one on top of the desk. Forensics is analyzing both now. Apparently, Sandburg hadn't been in the office when it arrived since we found a note to Ellison from him telling him to wait. There was also a note from someone named Tina saying the soup was for Sandburg. Rafe's checking her out now." Just then an elderly doctor walked around the cloth screen near the police officer. Banks dismissed his detective with a nod and turned towards the approaching physician.
"Doctor, I'm Captain Banks, Cascade P.D. How's Professor Tallman? Can he talk to anyone?"
"Captain, I'm Doctor McCoy." The man took a gentle hold of the police captain's arm and led him a short distance from the examining area. "Mr. Tallman took a nasty blow by a blunt object near his right temple. He has a severe contusion, possible skull fracture and all indications of a serious concussion. I'm ordering a skull series of X-rays as well as a CAT scan. He's just barely conscious now but incoherent. I would rather wait until I can do some tests to see if there is any further damage before you question him."
"Doctor, we don't have much time here. Tallman is probably the only person who has any information on the disappearance of two of my men and the trail gets colder the longer we wait to take any action. How soon before I can talk to him?"
The doctor looked steadily into Banks eyes and saw the urgency and apprehension the other was trying to hide. With a sigh, he looked back down at the chart in his hands and back up. "Let us at least get the pictures, please. Then, we'll see how he is, okay?"
Simon looked at the curtained area containing his witness. A gurney was being wheeled over to it to transport the man to the X-ray department. "I'll have one of the officers go with him." He held up a hand to stop the protest the doctor was about to give. "Doctor, it's for his own protection. He's a witness and his assailant is still on the loose. An Inspector Connor will be here to talk to him when he gets back. Thank you."
Walking away before the doctor could protest any further, Banks pulled his cell phone out from his jacket and touched the speed dial buttons. "Connor. I want you here at the hospital ASAP... That means as soon as possible. They're taking Tallman up to X-ray and I want you to be at his bedside to get a statement as soon as he wakes up. Has anyone found Walker yet?...Well, tell them to keep on it. I want that kid found now."
Closing his phone, Simon looked back at the examination area. Two orderlies were wheeling their loaded gurney towards the elevator, police officer in tow. The still form of Professor Tallman did not look good, heavy amounts of red stained gauze covered most of his head. "Where the hell are you two?" he mumbled to himself as he turned and walked out the emergency room doors and towards his car.
Unknown Location, Near Midnight, Same Day
As Blair slowly surfaced towards consciousness, he became aware of the pain in different parts of his body. The throbbing in his head had a similar beat as his left arm. It felt like it was swollen to twice its size and had a burning ache from hand to elbow. As his mind cleared, Blair realized that there were two areas on his head that hurt: the back of his head from hitting something and the side of his face from being hit. And for some reason, he was laying on what must have been the lumpiest bed in the world. It was also cold and damp against his aching jaw and along the right side of his body. Blair could hear someone humming or softly singing behind him.
Carefully, he opened his eyes and was greeted with near darkness. At first, he thought he was blind until his eyes registered a faint, moving shadow cast by a dim light. Coming more awake, he realized that what he thought was a lumpy bed was actually a dirt floor and the shadow was reflected on some type of cloth wall. Knowing it was going to hurt, he rolled onto his back and was barely able to keep from screaming in agony. The tuneless humming stopped.
"Hey, man. I was hoping I didn't hit you too hard," said a young man's voice.
"Charlie?" Blair recognized the voice and struggled to pull himself up into a sitting position. The movement jarred his arm and he did cry out this time. Taking deep breaths to ward off the nausea, he cradled his injured arm until the pain became manageable. "What's going on, man?" Blair finally asked when he could speak.
Charlie Walker stepped over to Blair and squatted down beside him. In the dim light, the young man's eyes looked wild and seemed to glitter. "I'm sorry you got hurt, Blair. I don't know why your friend reacted the way he did. The stuff in the soup was only supposed to make you dizzy and easier for me to get you to the parking lot. He still seems really out of it."
"Why, Charlie?" Blair said, struggling to stay calm. As Charlie had been talking, it came to him that the man crouched there had to be the one that had brutally murdered four other people. "Why are you doing this, man?"
"Four years ago, Blair, I was denied the life I was meant to have." Standing up, Charlie walked towards the lamp next to a person sitting on the ground, leaning against a box. "I was gifted with many abilities and destined to be the new shaman of my tribe until a drunk driver took it all away from me." When he stepped over the out stretched legs and bent over to lift the individual's head, Blair recognized the slack face that offered no resistance. Jim! His eyes were open, but they looked vacant in the dim light. He was also missing his coat, as was Blair. The chilly air cut straight through the flannel shirt was wore.
Blair clamored over onto his knees and his right arm and began to crawl towards the two men. "What did you do to him, man? Leave him alone!" The rough movement produced knifing blasts of pain up his left arm, through his body, exploding in his head. As a merciful blanket of darkness flowed across his eyes, Blair finally reached his friend. With a mighty effort, before he collapsed into unconsciousness, Blair latched firmly onto Jim's arm.
"Wow," Charlie murmured at the actions of the teaching fellow. "I didn't think you would be able to move that well. I'll have to be careful here."
Major Crimes, Pre-dawn, October 31
Simon Banks stood at the window of his office, watching the sky to the east begin to lighten. He had spent most of the night waiting right there in his office for some news, any news, of what had happened to Ellison and Sandburg. A couple of hours ago, forensics gave him a report on the substance found splashed in front of Sandburg's desk and in the bowl on top of it. It was a cream of chicken soup but both bowls had been laced with flycap mushrooms. Not a toxic amount but enough that could have and probably did effect Ellison enough to incapacitate him. That would be the only way Simon could see someone getting the drop on him so easily. A knock on his door interrupted Bank's thoughts.
"Come!" he called out, walking back to his desk and sitting down
"Captain?" It was Det. Brown, followed closely behind by Det. Rafe. The black detective was clutching a case file. "We finally got something on that Walker kid."
Simon motioned the two to sit down. They both looked like they hadn't been to bed yet. "Please tell me that he's not a closet homicidal maniac that had his records sealed by some benevolent judge."
"Close sir, but not that bad," Brown answered and gave his captain a lopsided grin. "He's originally from north of Seattle, a member of the Quinault tribe. We had to do some real tap dancing to get any information from them. Seems since Native American tribal communities are like sovereign countries, you almost have to go through diplomats for everything. After we explained the situation, though, the elders were pretty helpful. It seems that Mr. Walker had become an embarrassment to the tribe after he had an accident about four years ago."
"Yeah. It was a hit and run drunk driver that had put the kid in a coma for about a year." Rafe spoke up, jumping into the conversation. "When he came out of it, he was diagnosed as having lost some mental capacity and sustaining permanent damage to his right leg. Since he had been unconscious for so long, he had been replaced as the tribe's medicine man trainee. Swore that he would come back one day with 'great powers' and a warrior's body to take revenge on those who had stolen his future."
"Was the injury to his leg severe? Bad enough to require crutches or a cane?" Banks asked.
"Not according to the report," Brown answered, flipping through the pages of his folder. "It was enough to give him a good limp on a bad day, but nothing that would required support."
"Then it's a good possibility that he might be our serial killer. Has Connor checked in yet?"
Rafe leaned back and looked out towards the bullpen and the area that the inspector's desk was located. "We haven't seen her this morning and I know we haven't had any messages, yet."
Just as Rafe spoke those words, Simon's phone rang. "Banks...Connor. Is he awake yet?"
Without hearing the other side of the conversation, the two detective could tell that the news their captain was receiving was not good. Banks dropped his head slightly, pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
"When?...Was he conscious at all? Did he say anything before he died...Okay...No, go home and grab a few hours of sleep...I said a couple of hours, Inspector. Do I need to make it an order? Just don't show up here before noon." As Simon hung up the receiver, he let loose a heavy sigh and then looked up at the two anxious detectives sitting in front.
"Tallman died 30 minutes ago. He never regained consciousness, but he did call out to Walker a couple of times and said something about not desecrating the circle," he said quietly. "Were you able to locate the Tina on the note you found, Rafe?"
"Yes, sir. She's a student that works at the reference desk in the library and is good friends with Sandburg. She says that she didn't write the note or take any soup to his office. She had found an envelop that morning with a note telling her to make sure Sandburg picked it up before noon. She was the last person to talk to him."
"Can she I.D. who it was that left her the envelop?"
"No, sir. She had been called away from the desk for a few minutes and found it laying there when she returned," Rafe replied.
"And another thing, sir." Brown jumped in, remembering some more information that had somehow slipped his mind. "I checked with the cafeteria and there wasn't any soup on the menu. Seems it was Mexican day and cream of chicken soup is definitely not a part of the cuisine for that culture."
"So it had to be special made. And, by the looks of it, by Charlie Walker. I want an APB put out on that kid. Check DMV for the type of vehicle he drives and see if it's a dark van. If so, put that out on the air, too. Then I want you two to get out of here." Banks gave the two a meaningful look.
"But sir, we were going to check up on a couple of places Walker is supposed to hang out. If there's a..." Brown started to protest but stopped at the sterner look from his captain. With a sigh, he stood up and pulled at Rafe's arm.
"Not before noon for you two either, gentlemen. I don't need sleep deprived detectives carrying guns and chasing around this city. Do I make myself clear?"
With a nod and a 'yes, sir' mumbled by both men, they left the office. When they reached Ellison's desk, both stopped at the same time and stared at it.
"You know, Rafe, the captain didn't order us to go get some sleep. He just said that we weren't supposed to come back here until after noon," Brown said, a twinkle in his eye as he looked back at the captain's office.
Rafe looked at him a little confused. "But H, I did hear him say that he wanted...oh, yeah. You're right." The words of the black detective finally sunk in. Grabbing their coats, the two hurried out of the office, barely missing Joel Taggert coming through the doors.
"Kids," he mumbled and walked over to Banks office. Rapping twice, he opened the door and walked in without waiting for an invite. "Hey, Simon. Anything develop yet?"
Looking up at the captain, Banks didn't have to ask who he was talking about. Taggert also looked like he hadn't slept, and if he did it was in the clothes he was wearing. Handing over the file he had been studying, Simon stood up and went back over to stare out his windows "Only that we have a possible idea of who's involved in their disappearance and that he's very probably the cemetery killer."
Taking the report from Banks, Taggert quickly scanned through the information. "You're kidding, right? Charlie Walker? Simon, this guy could barely hold himself up, if what Jim said is true."
"Well, apparently he's fooled everyone with his act. The questions now are where would he take Jim and Blair, if he did grab them, and for what reason. According to the pattern established, the next solar cycle is not until December 21st and neither of the two possess any special ability similar to the other victims."
"What about the professor? Walker is his assistant, isn't he?"
"Was. Tallman died this morning without regaining consciousness. That's another reason for suspecting Walker. Connor said that he called out the kid's name a few times before he died."
"So what do we do now?"
"We wait for something from DMV and any other feeler we have out there. Other than that, Taggert, I'm not sure what we can do."
Unknown Location, Late Afternoon, Same Day
It was the quiet chanting that brought Blair back to consciousness this time. It had a sing-song type quality with no recognizable rhythm, but something about it pulled at him. Opening his eyes, Blair also saw that there was more light available for him to see and he was now lying on his back. The shape of the enclosure he was in was also recognizable. It was a large, canvas tent.
As he lay listening to the breathy tune coming from somewhere to his right, the memory of all that happened and his current situation flooded back into his mind. Charlie Walker, who was supposed to be a physically disabled, third year Archeology student to a visiting professor, had drugged Jim, kidnapped them both and was now holding them God knows where and acting like he was crazy. What do I mean acting. He has to be to think that he could nab us in full daylight and not have anyone notice anything. Did anyone notice? I wonder if Simon knows what happened? If Charlie left Jim's tru...JIM! Remembering how his partner had looked the last time he had awakened, Blair lifted his head and frantically searched around.
Jim was sitting in the same position that he had last seen him, only closer. Blair was laying on his back, off to his friend's left, with his broken arm draped across his stomach. His right arm was stretched above his head. When Blair tried to move it down, the hand was stopped by the handcuff on his wrist. Looking up, he saw that the other end was attached to Jim's left wrist.
"Welcome back."
Rolling carefully to the right, and pulling himself into a sitting position, Blair saw Walker kneeling on the other side of his friend. He was holding a bowl in one hand, dipping the first finger of the other into it and making some type of markings on Ellison's face. He resumed chanting some tune under his breath.
"What's going on here, Charlie? What are you doing this for?" Blair recognized the marks the other man was drawing and fear flooded his body. They were similar to the ones found on each of the victims in the cemeteries.
"I really have to compliment your roommate for the way he's taken care of himself, although I am worried about how he's been since I brought him. His body will be perfect for me," Walker said casually, keeping his attention to what he was doing.
It took a few moments for the words to sink into Blair's head. "You killed all those other people, didn't you Charlie?" Speaking calmly, Blair reached around the handcuffs and placed his hand on Jim's wrist. He was able to feel the larger man's pulse, very slow but steady. "You killed them to take their abilities."
"I was born gifted. But the accident took them all away from me. And then the tribe took away my rightful place as their new shaman. But I got my abilities back and all I need now is a strong body. That other man I had picked up last week was okay but your friend here will be a much better host. I'll be able to get my position back, now. They can't, won't be able to deny me." Walker looked at Blair, his eyes shining with insanity.
"It won't work, Charlie. Didn't Professor Tallman tell you that a true Shaman would never subvert the traditions of his people. The spirits won't help you with this. And Jim will stop you when he wakes up!" Blair put emphasis on the last two words, speaking them louder than normal. He was rewarded with a twitch in the hand he was holding.
"George didn't understand what I needed. His ways were ancient and would have taken too long to get me back what was mine. I searched around until I found disciples of a different religion that showed me a new and better path. When I'm finished here, he'll know. When it's his turn, he'll know." Reaching over beside him with a smile, Walker put down the bowl and picked up a cup Sandburg hadn't seen and began to raise it to Ellison's mouth.
"Wait! What are you giving him?" Blair cried out, releasing Jim's arm and reaching for the cup. "Jim is a very special person. You saw how he reacted to whatever you put in the soup. He doesn't handle any type of drug very well. You could kill him and then where would you be?"
Walker stopped and set the cup down by his knees. "How is he special? I look at him and...I see a shadow of a warrior. But none like I've ever seen. He also knew I was watching you two the other day. What is he?"
"Like I said, Jim's a very special person. He has a spirit guide that protects him from all danger. That's why he didn't eat very much of the soup. It stopped him from taking more that might have killed him." Blair was almost frantic in trying to think up something to stop Walker from giving his friend anything that might hurt him. Taking a deep breath, he decided to turn the other's attention towards him. "And I know this because I'm His Shaman."
Walker looked carefully over at Blair and then back down at Jim. When he looked back up at Blair, he squinted slightly and then his eyes widened. Reaching across, Charlie grabbed Blair's shirt with one hand and pulled on the leather cord he saw inside it with his other. The wolf medallion flopped out. Blair had tried to shift back to avoid the hands but his movement only caused the pain in his arm to flare back up. He groaned quietly and took several deep breaths to get back into control.
"I knew you were special, Blair, but not in that way." Walker let loose of the medallion and moved closer. "I can see that you have a strong connection with your friend. George was able to see it, too. You've also traveled to the land of the dead and returned and I want and need your gift of life over death. But I can see that you have acquired something more with your journey. That will help make my work easier."
"I won't help you hurt Jim." Blair stared Charlie squarely in the eyes.
The smile from Walker's face faded slightly and then returned all the stronger. Reaching forward, he lightly patted Blair's face. "I won't hurt him. Not physically, that is. Since tonight is Samhain, and the barrier to the afterlife is at its thinnest, you're going to help me send your friend's soul across so I can enter the body without having to cause it to die. Then you're going to give me your gift and your ability as a shaman to make me stronger."
"The spirits will stop you and you'll never be a true Shaman. The path you follow has given you nothing but delusions, man."
"No, Blair. It has given me everything." With a final pat, he stood up and walked away.
Not in this life, asshole, Blair thought fiercely and then turned his attention back to Jim. Grabbing the comatose man's wrist again, Blair shifted around until he was sitting along side his friend's legs and could see his face clearly. The markings Charlie had drawn on Jim's face looked like they were done in blood. Checking carefully, Blair wasn't able to find any cuts on the left arm but could see a small bandage wrapped around Jim's right wrist. Glancing around their immediate area, he was able to find a scrap of cloth nearby and gently wiped the offensive markings off. When he was finished, he picked back up the limp arm and positioned his fingers over the pulse area.
"Okay, Jim. I know you can hear my voice, big guy. It's time to turn the dials up and come back to me." Blair was rewarded again with a few more twitchings from the arm he held. Jim's breathing began to deepen, too.
"That's it, man. Turn your hearing up so that you can hear me better...Good. And now your sense of touch. You can feel my hand on your arm. It's warm but not burning. Turn up that dial until you can feel the warmth." The arm jerked slightly then turned over, allowing Jim to grasp Blair's arm in a weak grip. Blair almost cheered when his arm received a light squeeze.
"Yeah, man. I'm here. Come on back to me. Open those baby blues and let me know you're in there." Blair kept his voice low, trying to be quiet so as to not alert Walker.
Ellison felt like he was swimming through molasses. After the shock he had received when all of his senses went ballistic, he knew he needed time to rest. Then that wonderful voice he knew and trusted came and put him into a major zone out. But it was like a blessing. The pain left and his mind could heal. He had been floating in a comfortable world of darkness and quiet. A little earlier, he had thought he had heard his friend's voice. But it hadn't sounded right, not like it did now. The familiar tonal quality that helped him keep control in the past was now telling him everything was all right.
Following the directions that the voice was giving him, Jim once again began to be aware of his surroundings. It was quiet, except for Blair's voice. There weren't any sounds of vehicles, or people, anything. So, doing as he was told, Jim up'd his range and was able to hear things farther away. He heard the strange cry of a magpie a little ways off, the soft swishing sound of a breeze blowing through pine trees, the chirping call of crickets. Focusing closer, he could hear the movement of another human, away from the immediate area but still nearby. The person was humming something but he couldn't recognize it.
Bringing his hearing closer, he picked up the distinctive sounds of his partner. Blair was beside him, but his breathing seemed a little strained. Listening closer, Jim heard the most familiar sound of all: the beating of Blair's heart. However, it was beating too rapidly. Something was wrong and that made him work on his own to bring back up all the other dials he had turned down.
The feeling of Blair's arm in his hand began to register more firmly, as well as the cool dampness of the ground he was seated, the uncomfortable feel of the crate he was leaning, and finally, the heaviness of the handcuff on his left wrist. With the realization of that feeling, Jim forced his eyelids up to see just what was happening.
"Blair?" he mumbled, the word slurring out of his mouth like he had been on a 24-hour drinking spree. He could see the blurred form of his friend, but the rest of the area seemed to waiver in his vision.
"Oh, Jim. You really had me worried there, man." Though Ellison couldn't see it, the relief was evident in Sandburg's voice. "When I had you shut your senses down to limit the damage, I didn't think you would have to be out this long. Are you all right? Is everything back on line?"
"Wha' hap'n?" Ellison struggled to speak. His whole body felt weighted down and he couldn't control his tongue too well.
"We are in some serious trouble here, man. It's Charlie Walker. He's the serial killer we've been looking for and he's definitely not sparking on all six cylinders. I mean, the look in his eyes is enough to send mega chills up and down my spine. He wants me to help him take over your body, and I don't mean just taking control of you. He wants your body for himself and he wants me to help him do it. And then he wants to kill me and take the gift he says I have of life over death and add my ability as a shaman to what he thinks he has. I have to tell you, man..."
Blair stopped speaking when Jim jerked loose of the hold on his friend's arm and raised his own upwards towards his face. Since the two were connected, Blair's followed the movement which jerked him forward. His left wrist reminded him of the severity of its injury.
"Ssst! Ow!" he cried out and moved to protect the injury.
Ellison heard the cry of pain and honed in on the increase in Blair's heart beat and respiration. "Ye'r hurt," he fumbled to say and flopped his arm back down into his lap. This caused another exclamation of pain.
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. What was your first clue?" The sarcastic remark fell out of Blair's mouth before he had a chance to stop it. The hurt expression on his friends face stopped any others. "Hey, Jim, I'm sorry. I'm hurting, I'm cold, and I'm scared. We've got to get out of here before Charlie comes back. Can you stand up?"
"Fee' funy. Hea..vy " Ellison's vision wavered and he rubbed his eyes with his free hand to try and get them to clear.
"Damn it! He must have given you something when I was out. Is the feeling like what you experienced at my office?" Jim shook his head, not trusting his voice. "Okay, maybe it's just a sedative and we know how that affects you. We just need to get someplace safe and let the stuff wear off. Come on. Let's try to get you to your feet." Moving around to Jim's shoulder, Blair shifted the arm attached to his around his shoulder. It was awkward because of the handcuffs, but he was able to prop his shoulder into Jim's body and brace himself. Mindful of his friend's injury, Jim pulled himself to his knees and then finally to his feet. Unfortunately, his knees felt like soft rubber and he had to lean heavily on Blair.
"Can you hear where he's at?" Blair asked through gritted teeth, as he helped his friend to the entrance of the tent. He was trying to protect his arm, but everything he did seemed to jostle it.
Tilting his head slightly, Jim concentrated on listening to the area around them. His hearing echoed slightly and then cleared up. He could hear Walker's humming and it sounded like he was moving away from them. "Tha' way," he said and nodded his head to the right.
"Then that means we go this-a-way." Blair tilted his head in the opposite direction and then shifted his body to get a steadier handle on his friend. "We're definitely going to have to talk about you lightening up on the Wonder Burgers, man"
When they stepped out of the tent and hurried around to the north side of it, Blair recognized their location in the fading light. It was the Indian burial ground he had been to with Professor Tallman. Walker had been holding them in the tent set up by the university to protect equipment and supplies for the team. It was located on the north end of the site and close to the edge of the nearby woods. With a satisfied smile, Blair shifted his weight to change their direction and helped Jim stumble towards the trees.
Major Crimes, Late Afternoon, Same Day
Megan Connor entered the room housing the members of the Major Crimes unit and stopped short. The place seemed bare and very quiet. Besides the empty desks where Ellison and Sandburg normally sat, Rafe and Brown were not present, nor was Captain Taggert. The whole atmosphere of the office was subdued. Walking over to the door of Captain Banks office, she knocked politely and then entered after the voice inside called out.
"Connor. You don't look very rested," Banks growled at her with a frown. She looked quickly over to Taggert, who just gave her a polite smile, and then back at Banks.
"Sorry, sir. I tried to get some sleep but my mind just wouldn't stop thinking of Ellison and Sandy," she apologized and then looked down a little ashamed.
"I understand. Don't worry about it. We're all on edge about this thing." Banks waved a dismissing motion with his hand at the inspector and then gestured for her to take a chair. "Tell us again about Tallman at the hospital. I want to know exactly what he said."
Taking the offered chair, Megan thought back to the hospital. "I got the doctor to allow me to sit in the room while most of the tests were being done, with the exception of the X-rays, of course. The professor was quiet then. But when they put him in the Intensive Care area he started mumbling. He first said some things about someone changing and becoming strong. A man that had shawls or something."
Connor and Taggert both looked at Banks when he gave a choking cough while taking a drink from his coffee cup. He knew what the professor had been referring. Getting his breath back, he motioned for her to continue.
"Then he did call out to Charlie Walker and said 'No, don't.' I'm guessing that was from the parking lot. The last thing he said, and it was so clear, was for Charlie to not 'desecrate the circle'. He died about an hour after that."
"Don't desecrate the circle. It has to mean something..." Banks started when he was interrupted by a hurried knock on his door. Before he could say anything, the door opened and Brown and Rafe hurried in.
"Captain, we..." H started and then noticed who else was there. "Oh, sorry sir. We didn't mean to interrupt."
"No, come in. We're discussing Ellison and Sandburg's disappearance. You two are on the case so you might as well sit in. Did you need something?" Simon noted with a frown that both of the men also looked like they didn't get any sleep either.
Looking quickly at his partner, Rafe started talking when he saw him nod. "Well, sir, we had found a couple of people who had worked with Walker up at the burial site. They said that the kid was totally obsessed with it and about finding the 'medicine wheel' they called it."
"Right. And also that he had been starting to act really strange lately, talking about being able to predict the future and offering to heal one guy who had injured his knee at the site." Brown jumped in.
"What's the matter, Simon?" Taggert spoke up, seeing the far away expression appear on the other's face.
"'Don't desecrate the circle.' And Walker has an obsession of an Indian burial site with a medicine wheel," Banks said and looked at the other captain.
"You know, Sandy was talking to Jim about that medicine wheel the other day. He seemed awfully excited about it, too," Megan said, excitement edged her voice.
"But he wouldn't use that place, would he? I mean, the university probably has people there all the time, don't they?" Taggert asked.
"They won't this weekend, Captain. Supposedly, Walker had been around inviting all of the members of the team to a party the professor was throwing last night. Some type of celebration to thank all the students who had helped with the study." Rafe said, catching the excitement that was building. "And even though there wasn't the professor's party, the university always has a big one planned for Halloween. Tonight. Just about every student will be there. The uniforms will have extra people on duty for it."
"How far away is the burial site?" Banks asked standing up and reaching over for his coat.
"Even with lights and sirens, it'll still probably take us about three to four hours to get up there." Brown answered.
"Then let's not waste time talking." Like a hen corralling its chicks, Simon ushered everyone out of his office.
Sandburg stumbled over a tree root, another one he hadn't seen in the darkness. It had been dark for a while but Blair knew they really hadn't gotten very far in their escape. He could tell that Jim was getting more control over his body since the amount of weight leaning on him had decreased. But that still didn't help with being able to see where they were going. Each time he tripped, Blair would slow down their traveling pace. This last one would have brought him to his knees if Jim hadn't clutched at him with the arm he had over the shorter man's shoulder.
"Uh...thanks, man." Blair panted with the exhaustion he was feeling. "How're you feeling?"
"Better, but let's take five and see if we can get these handcuffs off, okay?" Jim could feel his friend struggling and the heat that was beginning to radiate from him. He knew the other wouldn't bring up how he felt or ask to rest.
With a pained grunt, Blair helped Jim sit down and lean back against a tree. "Think you can pick the lock on these things? My knife is in my back left pocket. I can't believe he didn't take it."
Ellison leaned around and retrieved the Swiss army knife that Blair always carried. With exaggerated care, he pulled open a blade he knew would do the job and started to work at the cuff on Blair. He could feel the younger man's arm trembling. "How's you doing there, Chief?"
"I'll live." Blair had tucked his left hand into his coat pocket when they had entered the tree line to try and protect it. That hadn't worked so well. Jim could tell he was in pain and worried about any injuries his friend had.
With a small click, the handcuff released and with a sigh, Blair moved around so that his back was now resting against the same tree as his friend. He leaned his head back against the rough bark and closed his eyes, listening to Jim work at the cuff on his own arm. "Can you tell if Walker has noticed that we're missing yet?"
"Still quiet. I'm sure even you'll be able to hear him when he finds out. Just wish I knew where we are."
"The burial site."
With a start, Ellison looked at Sandburg. "You're kidding?!? If I was looking for him, this would be the first place I'd be looking. But then, that would only be if I had known or even suspected it to be Walker. I wonder if Simon knows."
"Maybe Professor Tallman told them. Charlie had knocked him out before he hit me. And since he wasn't in the tent with us..."
"Then he could be back in Cascade and hopefully at the precinct now telling all he knows."
"And then we can hope that Simon's running on the same wavelength as us," Blair said and then hissed in pain when he moved to get comfortable.
That brought Ellison's attention back around to his partner. Pulling away from the tree, he scooted around until he was facing his friend. Even in the dim light, he could see the observer's face was pale and grimaced in pain. He could also see the dark bruise forming along the right cheek and jaw. "What happened, Chief? Where are you hurt?"
Blair was quiet as his Sentinel ran his fingers across the jaw area, checking for any cracks. He pulled back slightly when they touched the bruise. "There, the back of my head and my left wrist. Ow! Wait! I'll move it, okay?" he cried out when Jim began his examination down the arm.
Ellison inhaled sharply when he saw the swollen, bruised, and misshapen appendage pulled slowly out of the pocket. The angry, red scars around the wrist from their time in Peru stood out clearly. Taking hold of the arm gently, he started a very careful examination. "How did this happen? Did Walker do this?"
Blair's silence caused him to look up. The younger man just stared at the injured wrist, biting his lower lip against the pain. "Blair?"
The use of his first name got his attention and he looked up into a concerned gaze. Jim only called him by his given name when he was really worried. Blair tried to look away from the intense, blue gaze but couldn't.
"Did I do this?" Came the soft question. When there wasn't an answer forthcoming, Ellison groaned and released his hold on the arm.
"You didn't mean it, Jim. It was pure reflex. All of your senses were completely whacked out and I made the mistake of trying to touch your arm. The minute you realized it was me, you let go. Come on, man. I don't blame you for this."
Blue eyes stared into blue eyes, trying to convey the confidence and trust both knew was between them. "We really need to so something with it, Chief. A splint will help bring down the pain and provide some protection to it," Jim said softly. Blair just nodded.
It took a few minutes for Jim to search around the area and find two pieces of wood that could be used for splints and tear a couple of strips of cloth from his outer shirt. Kneeling back down in front of Blair, he held out a third stick. Taking a few deep breaths to calm his nerves, Blair nodded and bit down on the piece of wood.
Ellison tried to be as quick and gentle as possible when he positioned the hand and arm into a more stable angle, but the amount of pain the action caused was still severe. The white hot flare of pain burst throughout the arm, causing Blair to slam back against the tree; his scream of pain not quite muffled by the stick.
For a few minutes, which felt more like hours, he hovered near unconsciousness, his breathing ragged, his heart beating erratically. Eventually he heard the gentle voice of his friend calling to him, a hand carefully cupping his face. Opening his eyes, Blair saw the look of relief on Jim's face.
"That's it, Chief. Breath through the pain. It's all done. I can take this, now." Ellison took the stick from the slack mouth. "We're going to have to get moving soon. Walker knows we're gone. I can hear him starting to head this way."
"Just let me... catch... my breath, okay?" Blair gasped, looking down at the now splinted arm. It was still swollen and bruised, but it was no long lying at a weird angle. Now if only the pain would go away, he thought. Jim removed his belt, fashioning it into a sling. When the arm was positioned properly, Blair gave his friend a tremulous smile. "Not too bad of a job, Dr. Ellison. Your technique sucks but your tree side manner more than makes up for it."
Jim smiled back in relief. If Blair was making jokes, he would be fine. "Can you travel now?" He asked standing up and extending a hand.
Taking a tight grasp, Blair allowed himself to be pulled up. "Which way?"
Jim listened for a minute. "He found our trail. He's talking to himself about getting us back and his plans. Sounds like he's almost foaming at the mouth. Let's swing around to the east and try to make it back to the site. If we can get to his vehicle, and if he wasn't nice enough to leave the keys, I'll hot wire it for a ride back to town."
"Sounds like a plan to me."
"I'll take the lead here, Chief. Since it's so dark, you take hold of my shirt and stay right behind me, okay?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way, Jim." Blair flashed him a confident grin and gave him the 'after you' gesture. With an answering smile, Jim turned and lead the way through the trees.
It had taken nearly an hour in the rough terrain to travel back to the burial site. As Ellison had neared it, he was able to smell wood burning and see the glow of some type of light coming from the general area. This he relayed to Blair and also the good news that Walker was no longer after them, having turned off their trail almost 30 minutes earlier. Because of that, he had been successful in convincing his injured partner to stay further back in the woods while he went forward and scouted out the area.
It had almost been too easy to convince Blair that it would be better for him to take a quick breather. Jim could feel the heat of a fever he had felt earlier from Blair beginning to increase and the smaller man had been stumbling more than walking. While he himself didn't feel like he was at 100 percent, Jim knew that he could still function good enough to try and find a way out of this situation. Using all of his experience learned in the military, Jim moved silently towards the lighted area.
First looking around with his sight when he reached the edge of the burial site, he couldn't see any evidence of their abductor. Switching over to his hearing, Ellison first zeroed in on the area he had left Sandburg out of habit. Sounds like he's doing his meditation. The regular, deep inhales and exhales were very familiar sounds. Satisfied that his friend was fine, Ellison started to focus on the burial site. Too late did he hear the sound of another person behind him. Swinging quickly around, he was only able to get his arm a little ways up towards deflecting the silver-tipped staff aimed at his head. The glancing blow sent him to the ground stunned.
When the black spots swimming in front of his eyes started to fade away, Ellison looked up and into the enraged face of Charlie Walker. The younger man was holding the strap to a canteen missing its cap in one hand and was pressing the end of the staff into his throat with the other.
"Drink this. Now! Or I'll kill you and go after Blair." Walker's hoarse voice trembled with anger. Ellison knew that the clearly insane student would kill him before he would be able to knock the staff away. Taking the canteen, he took a careful sniff at the opening. It was chloral hydrate. He would never forget that smell. At the increased pressure of the staff, Ellison took a mouthful. He immediately felt the sluggish effects it caused even as the liquid slid down his throat.
"Another!" Walker growled and pressed against the staff again.
Jim complied but just barely. Even as some of the liquid splashed into his mouth, he couldn't hold onto the canteen any longer and it fell to the ground beside his head. The world started to spin on him. Though confused, his mind still tried to think of a way to counter act the drug.
Satisfied by the dazed look growing in his captive's eyes, Walker moved the staff and squatted down next to him. With casual indifference, he picked up the canteen and slung the strap over his shoulder. "Where's Blair hiding, Jim? We need him if this is going to work." Ellison thought he had shook his head strongly but it barely moved in a negative motion.
"That's okay. You see, he's very protective of you and I'm sure he'll come running if he thinks you're in trouble." Charlie smiled and then, grabbing the larger man by his shirt, pulled Jim up into a sitting position and then into standing. The detective wavered unsteadily on his feet. "Come with me. I've got a really nice place set up that you can rest. At least for the time you have left."
Ellison didn't have much control over his body. He was surprised that Walker was even able to get him to stand up. When he felt Walker's body lean against him to give him support with walking, Ellison instinctively clutched at it. His left hand felt the sharp edge of some type of bone attached to Walker's shirt. Stumbling slightly, he was able to mask ripping it off and grasping it tightly in his hand. He could barely feel it but the edge dug into his palm, helping to clear some of the cloudiness in his mind. He allowed himself to be led further into the burial site.
Blair knew that it was getting late and the fact that Jim hadn't yet returned was really beginning to worry him. It had taken him a while to get his breathing under control and get the pain in his arm down to a manageable level. It still throbbed strongly, but he could handle it now.
He knew that he should wait for his partner to return, but Blair had a strange feeling running along their bond that something was wrong. Jim would never have left him alone this long, especially since he was injured, unless something had happened to him. With that flaring in his mind, Blair tried to move as quietly as possible in the same direction his friend had gone. The moon was up, but it was still several days away from being a full one and the light available was barely enough to see where he was going.
As he traveled through the area he thought Jim had gone, Blair noticed a glow in front of him and it was getting brighter. He didn't have a Sentinel's nose, but even he could smell the pitch from the wood that was aflame and causing the light. The uneasy feeling grew significantly.
Just as he neared the edge of the clearing to the burial site, Blair heard Charlie Walker's voice call out to him. "Hey, Sandburg! Blair! I know you're nearby and can hear me so listen up. You roommate had decided that he wanted to join me. We're waiting for you in the medicine wheel. Come and join us!" The hysterical laughter that followed caused the hair on Blair's arms to stand. Somehow that madman had caught Jim.
Everything in his body told him to get out there now and do something to save his partner. But a small part of his mind said to stay calm and think. If he played this out using Walker's rules, both he and Jim would lose. Keeping silent, Blair carefully skirted around the area until he was at the south side of the burial site.
When he was in position, the sight that met his eyes scared the hell out of him. He saw Jim lying stretched out on the ground in the middle of the circle of stones he knew as the ancient medicine wheel of the burial site. There was some type of rope binding the man's feet together and his arms were stretched out from either side of his body with more rope tied to pegs next to the wrists. The fact that the older man wasn't moving told Blair that he was either unconscious or that Charlie had drugged him again. Blair couldn't stop the groan of frustration escape from his throat.
Pacing nervously at the edge of the stones, between the blazing fire and Ellison, was Walker. Blair could see that he was carrying Professor Tallman's walking stick, the silver head gleaming in the light of the fire.
"Let him go, Charlie," Blair called out from the darkness at the edge of the area. The other halted his movement and turned in the direction of the voice.
"No way, Blair. He's the one I've been searching for. But even though I would be denied a strong and healthy body, I'll kill him right now if you don't come out here. It'll be very painful for him." With the fire burning brightly behind him, Blair was unable to see the wild look in the student's eyes. It was the tone of the voice that convinced him of the other's sincerity.
"NO! Don't hurt him," Blair cried out and stood up. Showing a calmness he wasn't feeling, he walked to the edge of the stone circle cradling his injured arm. As he neared it, he looked closer at his friend and could see that Jim's eyes were open and staring up into the night sky. Walker moved around towards the approaching man.
"You almost screwed this up, Blair. The time is passing and the barrier to the other side will strengthen back up soon." Charlie reached for Blair's arm, but the other stepped back to avoid him.
"I'll make you a deal. You let Jim go and I'll be your host. I'm young and in fairly good shape. Besides, wouldn't you rather have a Shaman's body if you are to be the new Shaman of your tribe." Blair could see Jim trying to move, to shake off the effects of whatever he had been given. Frantically, he tried to think of something that could delay whatever Charlie had planned. But Walker was having not of it.
Quick as a striking snake, Walker reached forward, grabbed Sandburg's injured arm at the elbow and jerked him forward into the circle of stones. The action caused the throbbing ache of the broken arm to awaken and explode into unmerciful pain. With a sharp scream, Blair stumbled forward and fell to his knees. He would have fallen completely over if Charlie hadn't grabbed hold of his hair at the nape of his neck.
"No more stalling!" Walker yelled. Dropping the walking stick, he placed his knee behind Blair's back and then reached to a back pocket and pulled out a flask. Pulling his prisoner's head back, he began pouring the contents of the flask into the open mouth. Blair choked and tried to stop Charlie's action with his good arm. He struggled, remembering the last two times people had forced unknown liquids down his throat. In both of the previous incidents, he had been prevented from stopping the action by his arms being bound. This time wasn't any better, his broken arm the hindrance and his attacker having a firm advantage. Again, he drank what was given him.
Seeing that he had taken several swallows, Walker released Sandburg's hair and allowed the other to collapse onto the ground in a coughing fit. With a satisfied look at both his captives, Walker reached into another pocket for a lighter and moved to complete the preparations of the ceremonial site. He first lit the four large candles he had placed on the major stones of the circle. Then he walked to the outside of the north side of the circle near Ellison's head, knelt down and pulled out a leather satchel from his belt. From the bag he pulled out a wad of sweet grass and carefully positioned it on the ground in front of him. Lighting the grass, smoke began to billow out of it immediately, filling the area with its pungent smell. After several deep inhales, Walker closed his eyes and began chanting. Extending his arms, he raised his palms out in a supplicating manner.
The scent of the burning grass tickled Ellison's nose. It wasn't an offensive smell. In fact, it was helping clear his head. Taking careful breaths, he allowed the scent to work on him while he continued to used the sharp bone against the palm of his hand.
When Blair was finally able to breath without choking, he laid still for several minutes to see if what he had been given would cause any reaction. When he didn't feel any different, he relaxed slightly, grateful that this time his body was not immediately affected by the concoction forced upon him. It had a musky taste, which told him that it wasn't the drug that David Lash had forced upon him, nor was it the zombie juice Alex Barnes had made him drink. Moving carefully, Blair pushed himself back up into a kneeling position and took an assessment of the situation around him.
He decided that Walker had apparently fed him some mixture made with the flycap mushroom. It was supposed to take up to 45 minutes to affect an individual, unless that person had been fasting and depending on their body weight. Blair knew he wasn't a heavy weight and he hadn't had anything to eat since yesterday morning. If he was going to do anything to stop this madman, it had better be quick.
Jim was still lying before him, body positioned as if he was laying on an altar. He doesn't look like he's in any condition to come to the rescue, so it looks like it's up to me to do something, Blair thought with an aching heart. He was determined to not be used as an instrument of Jim's death.
Walker was kneeling outside of the medicine wheel, a little ways from Ellison's head. He seemed engrossed in the ritual he was performing with the stuff he was burning, the low chant flowing from his mouth. Blair took a cautious whiff of the air. He had never experienced sweet grass before and the scent was not unpleasant. Remembering what Professor Tallman had told him about the grass, Blair took several quiet breaths of the smoke that seemed to float around him. It had a calming effect.
"Jim," he said softly, trying to make no movement that would attract Walker's attention. "I'm sure you can hear me big guy, but haven't been able to get past the effects of whatever Charlie gave you. It couldn't have been toxic since he wants your body."
Ellison moved his head slightly and looked in the direction of his friend. He was getting back some control of his body but not very much. Determined, he grasped the bone tighter and was rewarded with a stronger sensation of pain in his hand. Sure that Sandburg was watching him, Ellison shifted his head again to look towards the hand holding the bone fragment.
Blair was relieved when he saw the movement of Jim's head. When he saw him move it again, Blair followed the direction to the other's hand. It was closed in a fist but he could see blood starting to seep through the fingers. He's using pain to counteract the effects. I need to give him more time.
Pushing at the ground to sit more comfortably, a wave of nausea swept through him. Blair dropped his head and took a couple of breaths in an effort to stem the feeling. When it subsided, he looked back up only to have the world tilt sideways. He also noticed that his injured arm felt more numb than painful and remembered what the side effects were of those who used the flycap mushroom.
"No," he groaned softly. "It's too soon. It shouldn't be affecting me this soon." Knowing that if he was going to do anything it would have to be now, Blair pushed himself backwards onto his feet in a squat and looked around for anything to help him get steady. Seeing Professor Tallman's walking stick to his left, he leaned over and grabbed it with his good arm. Using it as a lever, Blair slowly pulled himself up into a standing position. As the rolling of his stomach threatening to overwhelm him again, Blair closed his eyes and used calming breaths to try and control it. He heard the chanting stop and looked back up to see Charlie standing up and looking at him.
Walker had been preparing himself for the ceremony he was about to perform. He had taken a small drink from the flask holding the mushroom potion earlier and was mildly experiencing some of the reactions expected from it. Finishing his prayer, he looked up to see Sandburg using Tallman's walking stick to pull himself up. As Walker stood up, he grabbed a small carved, wooden bowl lying nearby and pulled his knife from his belt. It was time to get the show on the road.
No. It's too soon. It shouldn't be affecting me this soon. Ellison stilled when he heard those words from Sandburg. The disparaging tone caused a chill to swim down his spine. Walker must have given Sandburg something and it was starting to take effect. He was getting more feeling back in most of his body. The coolness of the ground he was lying on seeped through his clothes and he felt the sharp edges of a small rock digging into the back of his head but the whole process was still taking too much time. Time that they didn't have to spare.
Blair stood unsteady on his feet, the silver-tipped walking stick gripped firmly in his good right hand. As he watched Charlie stand and brandish a knife, he said a silent prayer for guidance and strength and braced himself for action he wasn't sure he could do. Suddenly, he heard the howl of a wolf from the left side of the clearing. It was answered by the scream of a large feline from the opposite side. At first he thought the two cries were just his imagination, but then noticed that Charlie started at the sounds and was looking around the area. Still maintaining his grip on the walking stick, Blair hooked his thumb under the cord around his neck and pulled until his medallion came out of his shirt. The stone seemed to glow in the fire light.
"I'm warning you, Charlie," Blair challenged with more bravado than he actually had. "Jim is special and protected by a very strong spirit guide. Attempt to harm him in any way and you risk your life." As he spoke, Blair thought he could feel a minor vibration within the walking stick. He started to dismiss the idea until he felt the vibration become more pronounced and the wood become warmer in his hands.
Walker looked around for the source of the animal sounds, but couldn't see anything. Dismissing it as a hallucination caused by the mushrooms, he turned his attention back to the man standing across from him. "Good try but you're not scaring me, Blair. It's time to get started." Charlie started walking into the circle of stones and towards Jim, the knife raised menacingly.
Trusting an inner feeling, Blair closed his eyes, raised the walking stick before him and sent out a plea. "Help me!"
The air within the medicine wheel became still and all of the normal night sounds ceased: the wind had stopped blowing, the crickets fell silent, and no sound could be heard from the nearby fire. Feeling a comforting presence nearby, Blair opened his eyes and looked around. Standing to the left of him, with hackles raised in Charlie's direction, was a large, gray wolf. His spirit guide. Looking in front of him, he saw that Jim had pull free from the weak bindings that had been holding him and was now up on one knee facing Charlie. The other had frozen in his movement and stood staring at the large, black jaguar that had appeared and stepped from the right between him and Jim.
Walker looked at both of the menacing animals and then back to where Sandburg should have been. Who he saw was the older grad student, but now he was dressed in a strange costume and glowed with the aura of a powerful Shaman. Where Ellison should have been before him knelt a strange looking warrior, with Ellison's face. He could feel the power flowing around the circle but ignored the feelings of danger that came with it.
"Your powers are nothing compared to mine. You can't stop me!" Walker called out and raised his the knife in anger.
"But I can, Charlie," a familiar voice said from Blair's direction. Ellison turned his head quickly and was surprised to see George Tallman standing to the side and slightly in front of his friend. He was dressed in an outfit that was clearly of his people and his hand was grasping the walking stick at the silver tip. Blair was still, his eyes closed as if in concentration.
"You did have a great destiny and I would have been the one to lead you to it if only you had patience. There were prayers to be said and proper ceremonies to be performed. But you strayed from the path of a true Shaman. You desecrate the circle with pagan ways." Tallman gestured his free hand to the candles on the surrounding rocks. The flame on each weakened and then died.
"What are you doing here, old man? I'm not ready for you!" Walker snapped in defiance. "You can show me nothing that I can't take away from you! I've found a better, faster way to get what is rightfully mine."
Tallman dropped his head and shook it slowly back and forth. An expression of sadness could be seen on his features when he looked back up. "You've caused pain and death to those who did not deserve it in the false belief that you could gain their abilities through theft. And now you threaten those who have a destiny greater than both of us together. For this, I take away what you have and strip you of what would have been your future. You have nothing, now!"
Tallman pushed his hand, the palm outward, in Walker's direction. To Ellison, there seemed to be a rippling in the area in front of the hand that traveled towards and surrounded Walker.
"NO!" The young man screamed. He then staggered backed, dropping the knife and bowl he had been holding. Taking advantage of the situation, Ellison quickly stood up and, moving closer, drove his fist into Walker's chin. The student flew backward into a crumpled heap.
Turning back around, Ellison could barely see the professor but clearly heard the sad tones of the man's words. His voice was faint and sounded like it was moving away. "Attend to your Shaman, Sentinel. He was given a powerful medicine and should receive medical attention as soon as your friends arrive. You must forgive the foolishness of youth. They tend to act before thought." Then the voice and the dim form it had emanated from faded completely away, leaving only the swaying form of Blair Sandburg. The younger man had set the walking stick back down onto the ground and was leaning heavily onto it.
Moving quickly, Ellison reached for his friend to steady him. "Sandburg? Are you with me buddy?" With his Sentinel hearing, he could make out the approach of several vehicles.
Opening his eyes, Blair turned his head and looked at Jim, barely able to focus. Seeing the concern on the older man's face, he tried to give him a brave smile. It only came out as a lop-sided grin. "Didn't know I had it in me." Then the grin faded into a frown.
"Knew it all the time, Chief. How're you holding up?"
The voice that answered sounded tired and slurred. "I don't feel so well, Jim. And I'm so tired. Do you think I could sit down now?" Without waiting for a reply, Blair slowly slid down to the ground still holding onto the walking stick. Jim moved down with him, shifting the collapsing body so that it was seated between his legs and rested back against his chest. Mindful of the injured arm, he engulfed the smaller man with his arms.
"Just hang in there, buddy. Simon and the others will be here soon," Jim said soothingly, gently taking the walking stick out of his friend's hand and laying it beside them. With a gentle hand, he brushed the damp hair away from Blair's sweating face. He was feverish but shivering with chills.
With his right hand free, Blair grabbed hold of the arm around his chest and shifted into the warmth of the body holding him. He felt tired but knew that he really should stay awake. "You doin' all right, man? The drug outta your system? I was worried that it..."
"Shhh. I'm fine. You just concentrate on staying awake for me. Okay?" Blair just nodded and sighed, accepting the answer for now.
With normal hearing, Ellison heard the sliding crunch of automobiles stopping abruptly and then the slamming of several car doors.
"Jim!" Banks called out when he saw the two figures seated on the ground. Running hard, he was able to reach the two men before the others of his group. "You two all right?"
"Anyone think to bring a first aid kit?" Ellison asked, looking first up at his captain and then at the detectives surrounding him and Sandburg.
Connor moved first, kneeling down in front and opening a white box with a large red cross on it. "Atropine?" she asked, pulling out a cylinder the size of a cigar.
With a nod, Ellison reached for the antidote. "I'm fine, sir, but Walker gave him some of that mushroom stuff. I'd rather be safe than sorry on whether or not it was an overdose."
Shifting his partner in his arms so that he was leaning over to the right, Ellison pulled the plastic cap off with his teeth and spit it out. "Blair? I'm going to give you an injection of atropine. It might hurt at first but you'll feel better after it." Feeling the head laying against his shoulder nod, Ellison smacked the open end of the cylinder into the fleshy backside of Sandburg's left thigh. The younger man jerked sharply then relaxed again.
"Brown, you and Rafe check the area and secure it for forensics. Connor, I've got a blanket in the trunk. Go get it," Simon said to the milling detectives. He looked for Taggert and found the other captain over by Walker, handcuffing the student, reading him his rights and starting to lead him to the cars. As soon as they were alone, Simon turned back to the huddled pair and squatted down beside them. "What happened here, Jim?"
Ellison had been monitoring his friend's vitals, relieved when the heart rate steadied and the breathing became less strained. Sandburg was hovering on the edge of consciousness, feeling safe in his Sentinel's arms. "Walker's the killer. He thought he could regain abilities that he supposedly had before he had been in an accident. He said he was going to take my body and then kill Sandburg since he was a shaman. The man was pure psycho."
Lowering his voice, Simon moved closer. "I already know that. I mean what happened here? You said Sandburg got dosed but your eyes look like you were drugged too. How were you able to overcome Walker?"
Pursing his lips, Ellison stared off into the flames of the fire still burning merrily out side the circle of stones. Then he looked back at his captain. "It was Sandburg and Tallman, sir. At least I think. Blair was standing behind me, holding out that pole, and he called for help. Our spirit animals appeared and then Tallman was standing there. He told Walker that he had no destiny, said he was taking away any abilities he had and then pushed a hand towards him. Walker staggered, I was able to get the drop on him then and I knocked him out."
With a sigh, Banks took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I can't tell the Commissioner that, Jim."
"I know, sir. We'll get the story worked out later. But I thought you should hear how it really happened." Ellison then raised his voice when he heard the approach of Connor. "Has anyone see Tallman? I'd like to thank him."
Banks looked uncomfortably up at Connor and then back at his detective. He wasn't sure how to tell the man the truth. Connor took care of it for him.
"Professor Tallman died this morning at Cascade General. He was attacked by Walker the same time that he took you two. He never regained consciousness, Jim." Shaking out the blanket brought back from the cars, she carefully draped it over Blair.
Ellison stared at the inspector. "Then how could he..." he started but stopped when Sandburg shifted in his arms and then moaned in pain. "Never mind. Give me a hand up with Sandburg, Simon. He's got a broken arm and we need to get him to the hospital to get it checked out."
The two men and the inspector gently helped bring the semi-conscious observer to his feet and then lead him to the waiting vehicles.
Cascade General Hospital, Early Afternoon, November 1
Walking through the busy corridors of the General Wing, Simon Banks ignored most of the activity he passed. He had just spent the morning briefing the Commissioner and then the Mayor on the proceedings of the case. The last half hour had been spent giving interviews to the media people that were milling in the lobby of the hospital. They had wanted to speak with the detectives involved with the capture of the now known serial killer, Charlie Walker, but hospital orders and uniformed officers kept them away from the elevators and stairs.
Arriving at the closed door of a private room, Banks paused for a minute to listen for any sounds within. When he didn't hear anything, he pushed open the door and quietly entered. He was met with the strong, blue gaze of a wide-awake Jim Ellison. The man had either heard him coming or, as he had been told many times before, smelled him from his cigars. Ellison was leaning back in a chair beside the bed, his feet propped up in another chair. Banks raised his eyebrow in question and was given a hand wave to continue entering.
"How's he doing, Jim?" Simon asked quietly, moving up to the bed and turning his attention to the silent figure lying there. Blair looked pale in the light provided by the room's lone overhead light, the deep bruise marring his face clearly visible. His left arm, now encased in a plain, white cast, lay underneath his right one on top of the covers.
"He is doing fine, thank you," came a sleepy voice from the bed. Blair opened his eyes and turned to look at the captain, giving him a tired grin. "He would also like to get out of this joint as soon as possible, though." The remark was directed to the man sitting in the chair.
"Once the doctors are sure your system is clean, Chief. In the morning, if you behave yourself," Jim replied to the remark and pulled his feet out of the chair for the new arrival to sit. "How was your meeting with the Commissioner? What did you finally tell him?"
"The only thing I could tell them." Simon sat in the offered chair. "After Walker kidnapped you two, he confessed to Blair that he had killed those four people. While in the process of trying to kill you both, you were able to get the drop on him. End of case."
"But that's not the way it happened," Blair spoke up quietly and reached for the buttons on his bed to move him into a better position to talk. Jim reached over and took the controls, moving the bed up to the desired level.
"Sandburg, are you suggesting that I tell him what Jim had told me last night? I'm really not ready to go through a psych eval with the department shrink," Banks shot back with a snort. "Since it's just us here, I want to hear what really happened. Let's start at the university first, Blair."
"Um, well? Let's see. Apparently it was Charlie who had called me in the morning about the meeting that wasn't to get me to the university. He had also left the envelop addressed to me at the library to later lure me away from my office and then put the soup spiked with the mushrooms on my desk right after I had left." Blair started the explanation. "I had left a note on my backpack for Jim telling him where I was going and that I'd take care of lunch for us. God, his timing was perfect."
"I thought the soup was what you had meant. It smelled good so I ate it. After a couple of spoonfuls, my senses went completely out of whack." Ellison went silent and looked guiltily at the cast on his friend's arm and then down at the floor. "I don't remember anything after that until you brought me back around."
"You mean that's how his arm got broke? I thought Walker did that at the time of the kidnapping." Simon looked incredulously at his detective.
Blair jumped to his friend's defense. "It wasn't his fault, Captain. Jim had no idea who I was at the time and it was just his reaction to me grabbing his arm. I should have been more careful when I tried to help him get back into control." A slight smile appeared on the younger man's face. "Pretty fast reaction time for a man his age." The remark brought back a sheepish smile from his friend.
"Anyway, by the time I got him to bring the level of every sense down, the professor showed up and helped me get Jim out to the truck. Charlie grabbed us then." Blair reached up to touch his still tender jaw. "That's when I found out that the professor never planned on having any party that night."
"Brown also found that out when he and Rafe had spoke to a few of Walker's friends. He must have been spreading the tale about a party to keep everyone away from the burial site." Simon spoke up to fill in a little of the story.
"I don't think he had expected the professor to be with me when I was taking care of you, Jim. Do you think he had meant to kill him? I mean, the guy was his mentor."
"Walker probably didn't even understand why Tallman had selected him as his assistant. His determination to get back the life he thought he should of had must have blinded him from anything else. You heard Tallman tell him that he was supposed to take care of the kid's training."
Blair furled his brow and shook his head. "Actually, that whole bit is a little hazy to me. I remember holding the professor's walking stick and it feeling really warm and kinda vibrating in my hand. Then I called for help and the animals appeared. When I looked back towards Charlie, I saw the professor standing near me holding onto the silver tip. I had wondered where he come from. Then I got dizzy and closed my eyes. Next thing I know, you were there to help me."
Ellison stood up and walked to the window. He knew he could talk to Sandburg about seeing their spirit guides and also about Tallman and how the man had helped them despite being dead at the time. But he wasn't sure Banks could handle the whole thing.
As if reading his mind, Simon stood up, adjusted his coat and walked to the door of the room. "I think you're about to get to the part that I really don't want to hear again. So, I'll just take my leave. You have tomorrow off, Jim, since you lost the weekend. Just make sure you give some type of 'official' report on Tuesday. Take it easy, Sandburg. You both did a good job." Giving them a resigned smile, Simon opened the door and left.
Ellison stared at the closing door until it was completely shut and then turned back to the window. "Did I remember to thank you for saving me?"
"You know I couldn't stay away, Jim. I had to do something to stop him from killing you. Guess I just reacted without thinking."
The older man looked over at him and sighed. "Tallman did say that I need to forgive the foolishness of youth, Chief. We're just going to have to work on your thinking verses reacting abilities."
Blair had the good sense to blush with the statement. "But Jim, I think you're getting the story wrong. It was you that did the saving. Wasn't it?" The confusion in Blair's voice was apparent.
"No, Chief. I was lucky that I could even look at you much less do anything. When you said that you were being affected by what Walker had given you, that it was too soon, I got scared. I didn't have very much control over any of my muscles and felt helpless. Then Walker was coming towards us with that knife."
"But you were able to get control pretty quickly 'cause I saw you up just after I called for my guide. I mean, that's why yours showed up, too. Isn't it? You called on him to help?"
Ellison walked back over to the chair, sat down and looked at Sandburg with a steady gaze. "I was able to move only after you called for help, Chief. It was like a surge of power went through me and I could move again. And I didn't call my spirit guide." He could hear his friends heart speeding up and his breath coming a little faster.
Blair took his good hand and ran it through his hair. "You're saying that I did it. All of it because of what we have." Jim nodded. "And you think I also called the professor."
"Your words to me after it was all over were 'Didn't think I had it in me.' While I can understand your calling the guides, I'm still wondering about being able to call up Tallman."
"At first, I thought he was just a hallucination. You know, caused by that mushroom stuff. But maybe the professor's spirit was able to answer my call because of what last night was. Remember? I told you that the veil between this and the other world is always thinnest on Halloween night. He was probably a shaman himself and walking the spirit world was nothing to him. I wonder if he's moved on."
Ellison didn't want to believe what had happened last night, but he had seen too many things in the last few months to stay totally skeptical. With a sigh, he rubbed his hands over his face. "He did tell Walker that He was to have been the one to help with his 'destiny.' I don't know, Chief. Who or whatever he was, I'm just glad he showed up. I think. As for moving on..."
"Yeah, I understand. We need sometime to process all this before we do any more talking. But the hospital isn't my idea of the best place to do it." Blair suddenly yawned. "I don't know why I'm so tired."
"It probably took a lot of energy out of you to do what you did. I would say that some marathon sleeping was definitely in order." Jim reached for the bed controls and adjusted it back down.
"Only if you go home and get some yourself. I think that all is right with the world for now and you can come back tomorrow to get me. Okay?" Another yawn escaped from his mouth.
Jim smiled and watched his friend lose his battle to stay awake. "In a bit. I just want to make sure you're sleeping okay."
Blair smiled back, his eyelids fluttering shut. Before sleep claimed him completely, he heard Jim settle back down onto the chair by the bed and felt a warm hand gently grasp his shoulder. Blair gladly surrendered to the darkness.
The End
Comments? Questions? Positive critiques are welcome. I can be reached at shallan@mho.net.
I was asked by a few to continue the story line after The Bond and hope that this meets with the expectations. The information about medicine wheels and the Native American practices can be found in many books. About the stuff concerning the Wiccan religion and it's practices? Well, let's just say that rumors, television shows and the Internet give lots of ideas and I've been told that writers are allowed to have some type of poetic license.
I'm not sure where to travel next: on to another chapter or dive off into a little side story. I'll let you know as soon as my muses tell me. It may take a little while, due to the demands of completing my thesis for college, but there will be more.