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.