Disclaimer: All characters who have appeared in the UPN-TV series, "The Sentinel" are the properties of UPN and Pet Fly Productions. All original characters belong to the author. No infringement on the rights held by any to "The Sentinel" characters, name or stories is intended. No money is changing hands or profit being made on this story.
Rated PG-13 for strong language and violence.
Author's Comments: This story would be considerably less than it is were it not for my extraordinary beta readers. This is dedicated to them: Holly, Gabrielle, Wendy, Laurie and Karin. THANK YOU my dears! A big thank you as well to Wolfpup. Her site has brought me so much reading pleasure, it is an honor to have my story there among the "greats" in Sentinel fiction. *g* And lastly, to Savannah and Jasmine, who bring me inspiration and joy.
Feedback may be sent to Crideon@aol.com
Carolyn
Jim hated kidnapping cases. But mostly, he hated how they affected his partner.
They were both already physically and mentally exhausted -- Blair from juggling his teaching duties and classes with his promise to back up Jim whenever he was needed; and Jim from an exceptionally heavy case load. Half the precinct seemed to be home sick with a nasty strain of spring flu making its way through the city. Although Jim would never admit it to anyone, he was certain the strange teas Blair had brewed and forced on him accounted for them remaining unaffected by the virus thus far.
He had planned to take off the upcoming week of Blair's semester break and get out of town for a much-needed vacation with his partner, when the news came in of their latest case. It was one that hit both of them especially hard.
Jenna Rowlings, the daughter of Washington State's senator Richard Rowlings and his second wife Katherine had, in her six years, toured around the state with her parents and had been featured in magazine articles about the young Republican senator and his loving, beautiful family. Her father had run a brilliant campaign, unseating the incumbent and capturing the hearts of the public -- his primary platform was lowering the crime rate. He had appealed to the voters' weariness of the gun and drug smuggling that plagued the state's larger cities -- of which Cascade was one -- and presented a strong plan of action to rectify the situation. In doing so, he earned the respect and the votes of a majority of the populace, as well as the members of the Cascade P.D.
Once elected, Richard Rowlings lit the Senate on fire with his exciting personality and progressive views. It was evident that he doted on his wife and only child. He and Katherine had decided to make the transition to Washington, D.C. easy on Jenna and planned for her to complete her school year in Cascade. Senator Rowlings took an apartment in Washington and flew home nearly every weekend to be with his family.
Katherine Rowlings was an active member of the Cascade community. A former high school teacher, she now spent much of her time speaking out against drug use and underage drinking, as well as encouraging kids to stay in school. She used the fees from her many speaking engagements to help fund a shelter for the homeless. She was expected to continue her crusades on a national scale when she joined her husband in Washington, D.C. Yet, despite the demand for her services, she made sure her days were flexible enough to spend as much time with Jenna as possible.
Now, some psycho had decided that Jenna Rowlings was to be the catalyst for the imminent, albeit unwilling, change in Senator Rowlings' policy on gun control. Jim was sure the perpetrator was unaware of the irony his example created -- this incident being a clear reason that the Senator was right on track in demanding stricter laws and longer waiting periods before issuing licenses. Senator Rowlings also wanted longer sentences imposed on the gun smugglers who supplied the drug traffickers regularly setting up shop in "The Most Dangerous City In America," as Jim liked to call his hometown of Cascade, Washington.
Jenna had been abducted while on her way to school. Her mother was due to speak at a MADD brunch and had asked Robert Higgins, her childhood friend and one of her many hard-working volunteers, to drop her daughter off. His car was found several hours later in an alley halfway between the school and their home. Robert was now in intensive care at Cascade General. The kidnappers had bludgeoned him through the driver's side window when he stopped at a red light, then drove his car out of sight and left him for dead. Any hopes that it was a carjacking gone wrong were dashed when the school confirmed that Jenna had never arrived for class, and she was nowhere to be found.
Unless Robert could identify his attackers when he woke -- if he woke -- Major Crimes had little to go on at this point. Jim and Blair were on the scene within a half hour of the car being found by a patrolman. After an initial sweep of the area, which brought them nothing, they had headed to Jenna's school. At the school, they had interviewed every staff member and each of Jenna's classmates. No one knew a thing, and they weren't lying. Jim had closely monitored each heartbeat as he and Blair had questioned them. Exhausting that option, they had gone back to the vehicle and were scouring it and the area around it for clues when a call came in on Jim's cell phone.
"Ellison," Jim barked into the phone. He had developed a raging headache from the tightened focus he had been maintaining with his senses and wanted to make sure the person on the other end of the phone knew he wasn't interested in small talk right now. Resisting Blair's repeated urges that he take a break, the detective had pressed himself to the limit, certain he could find something if he tried hard enough. Jim looked around him quickly and located Blair. He was leaning against a squad car a few yards away, looking down into the paper cup of water in his hands. He was close enough to monitor the detective for zone-outs, but out of his personal space, a place Jim usually welcomed him into. Blair had moved away from him after Jim had let loose a particularly scathing string of expletives, most of them directed at the anthropologist and his inability to do anything but harass him. Jim felt a flush of shame at his friend's bowed head; he would have some major apologizing to do later. His frustration, exhaustion, and headache were not Blair's doing, and he hoped the younger man would understand that it was his own stress and not the presence of his Guide which set the detective off.
"Jim, I need you and Sandburg to come over to the Rowlings' house, ASAP."
"Did you find something, Simon?" Jim hoped he didn't sound as desperate as he felt.
"A ransom note was delivered a few minutes ago. We have the delivery boy here. I was hoping you could. . ."
"We'll be right there, sir." He disconnected the line and raced for his truck. "Sandburg, come on!"
The ransom note laid out the obscene demands of Jenna's captors. When the Senate convened five days hence, Senator Rowlings was to publicly denounce the crime bill for which he had worked so hard and which was soon to come up for a senatorial vote. Mrs. Rowlings was not to accept any further speaking engagements and was to cancel all those currently scheduled. Her "poisoning the minds of today's youth" would not be tolerated further. Once her captors were certain their initial demands had been met, Jenna would be released to them for the sum of four million dollars. The final paragraph of the note explained in explicit detail just what would happen to the little girl if any attempt was made to inform the media or the FBI of their situation.
The boy who had delivered the note was a neighbor. He had found the letter taped to his
back door when he arrived home from school, and when he noticed it was addressed to the
Rowlings, he had brought it over. Neither he nor his family was able to give the detectives any
more information than that. No fingerprints were found on the note, and the typeface was a
common one.
Jim stood next to Simon, listening to his captain's questions and adding some of his own.
He had nearly forgotten about his partner when Blair entered the room and walked over to
stand beside Mrs. Rowlings. He held a cup in his hands, which he gently pushed into the
woman's hands. He rested his hand on her shoulder and gave a light squeeze and an
encouraging smile.
"I thought you could use a cup of tea to calm your nerves." She smiled warmly at him and
brought the cup up to her lips, her hands shaking as she did so.
"Thanks, Blair. I'm glad you and Jim could be here."
"There's no place else we would be right now," he replied, smiling at her again before
turning away. Glancing pointedly at Simon and Jim, he steered them away from the distraught
woman and lowered his voice before speaking.
"I think you guys should take a break here. You've been asking her questions for almost
three hours now, and she's just about to lose it."
"Sandburg, we barely have a leg to stand on in this case, and you want us to stop?" Simon's
frustration was exacerbated by the fact that Mrs. Rowlings allowed no smoking in her home.
His cigars were locked in the glove compartment of his car, and sorely missed. He looked over
at his detective for an ally. "Jim. . .?"
Jim looked thoughtfully at his partner, then back towards Katherine Rowlings. He had
noticed the increased paleness of her face as the interview went on, and with his hearing could
easily hear the tiny sobs she was barely controlling.
"Blair's right." His declaration was met by two startled gasps. "Let's give her some time to
come to grips with what's happened. Why don't you stay and talk to her, Chief. Simon and I
will be outside if you need us."
Blair looked incredulously at his partner while ignoring the splutters coming from Simon.
He hadn't expected such quick acquiescence. His face must have betrayed his inner thoughts,
as Jim ruffled his hair and grinned at him.
"You're the people person here, Darwin. Don't say I never listen to you." Cuffing him
lightly on the side of the head, he smiled as he led his protesting captain out the front door,
intending to find one of the hidden cigars and calm his captain down.
Well, it wasn't an apology, but it's all I can do right now, he thought.
The skies over Cascade had gifted the city with a breathtaking sunset. Jim contemplated
the gloriously colored horizon as he mulled over what had just happened in the Rowlings'
living room.
Jim couldn't explain to his captain why he had agreed so readily to Blair's suggestion. He
couldn't explain it himself, so why did Simon think he was going to understand? He figured it
was a combination of stress, exhaustion, and major guilt. If the questioning had been getting
them anywhere, he wouldn't have been as susceptible to that pleading look his partner had
given him with those damn eyes of his; but it was clear Mrs. Rowlings played no part in her
daughter's disappearance. The Senator would be arriving shortly, and the interrogations would
begin again.
With a sigh, Jim realized Blair knew that as well as he did. He had verbally flayed his
partner not four hours ago, but the kid was still looking out for him. Sure, Katherine Rowlings
needed a break, but so did Jim and Simon. He should have learned by now not to
underestimate the frantic bundle of energy that was his best friend. He would add his thanks to
the ever-growing list of things he needed to discuss with Blair when they were alone. It would
come right after apologizing for being an ass this afternoon, and right before praising him for
putting up with such a grouchy detective night and day. And speaking of grouchy...
"Come on, Simon. I know you have your cigars stashed out here somewhere. No reason
we can't enjoy this break, too." Jim had to laugh at the abashed look that covered his captain's
face and followed him to his car.
Inside the house, Blair pulled up a chair next to Mrs. Rowlings'. They didn't speak further
except for Mrs. Rowlings' quiet thanks to him for the tea. Blair was about to get up and refill
her cup when Katherine's personal assistant entered the room.
Andrea Reynolds had worked for Katherine Rowlings for little under a year, but was very
good at what she did. Blair had listened to her cancel her boss' speaking engagements earlier
while he was passing through the study and had been impressed with her efficiency and
discretion. She had arranged for the private plane now carrying the Senator home to Cascade,
as well as keeping tabs on Robert Higgins' prognosis with frequent calls to Cascade General.
She had led Brown and Rafe through the house as they searched for clues and provided
up-to-date photographs of Jenna for them. She had even procured two boxes of tissues for the
sniffling detectives, who were still recovering from the flu. Her competent presence allowed
Jim and Simon to focus on their interrogation of Katherine.
Blair also noticed what an attractive woman she was. He smiled a greeting to her, and she
nodded her head before addressing Mrs. Rowlings.
"Richard's plane just landed. He should be here in about half an hour. I sent a car to get
him, and Detective Brown arranged a police escort for him."
"Thank you, Andrea." Looking at Blair and then back to her assistant, Katherine smiled
wryly. "I'm going to go upstairs and freshen up a little. If Richard sees me looking like this,
he'll imagine the worst." She swept her hands out as she spoke, and a little sob escaped her
throat.
"Do you need some help?" Andrea asked.
"No, Andrea, I'll be okay. Thank you. Thank you for everything you've done today." She
hugged the younger woman briefly before heading up the stairs.
Andrea let out a long sigh and turned to Blair.
"Do you want some coffee? I just made it."
"No thanks, I just had some tea." Blair noticed the crestfallen look which appeared on her
face at his rejection. Guessing at its reason, he added quickly, "but if you're up for some
company while you enjoy your coffee, I'm happy to oblige."
A smile broke across her face, and Blair knew he had done the right thing. He really
wanted to go outside and check on Jim, but Jim had Simon with him, and Andrea needed a
little support after the hellish day they had all shared. Taking his hand, she led him into the
kitchen.
Blair found himself really enjoying her company and ended up drinking a cup of coffee
after all. They chatted about everything except the kidnapping. Blair told her about his
teaching fellowship and she spoke of the excitement of working for a Senator's wife. Andrea
commended the efforts of the Cascade P.D. and made Blair blush when she lavished most of
her praise on him personally. Despite his attempts to convince her that Jim and Simon and the
other detectives were the ones making all the progress, she insisted that his efforts would surely
solve this case.
Had he been slightly less tired, he would have caught on to her flirtations sooner.
Once he did, though, he managed to insert a few trademark Sandburg smiles and a good bit
of flirting of his own before their mood turned somber at the thought of Jenna and her
predicament.
After the promised half hour, Senator Rowlings arrived. Blair went to help Jim and Simon
with his questioning, but not before exchanging phone numbers with Andrea and agreeing to
meet her for dinner soon.
Four hours later, Jim was convinced that Richard Rowlings, like his wife, was uninvolved
with his daughter's kidnapping. He had readily agreed to follow any instructions the
kidnappers gave -- he just wanted his little girl back safely.
After a restless night's sleep, Jim and Blair were up at dawn. They shared a quick breakfast
at the loft and a silent drive to the station, each lost in his own thoughts. Their whole day was
spent at the precinct, examining and then re-examining the backgrounds and interviews of each
member of Katherine's staff of volunteers and the teaching staff of Jenna's school, which Rafe
and Brown were painstakingly accumulating over the course of the day, as well as any public
records that existed on the senator's peers. Deeper background checks would have alerted the
FBI and likely caused trouble with Jenna's captors. The families of Jenna's classmates and her
neighbors were also checked out, as well as any recent parolees who may have had a history of
kidnapping or a motive to do so now. There were simply too many possibilities to narrow their
search by much.
They lunched on candy bars from the break room vending machines and snapped at each
other often as the day passed and their frustrations grew. They still had no leads, and Jenna
had been missing for almost 36 hours. The kidnappers hadn't made any further contact after
the initial note. Apparently, they were content to wait to see how Senator Rowlings addressed
the Senate -- and that was still four days away.
Tired, and more than a little dejected, Blair and Jim headed back to the loft well after dark,
stopping only to pick up sandwiches and a six pack of beer from a local deli.
After tossing his backpack into his room and pulling on a pair of sweats, Blair joined Jim
at the table. They ate quickly and silently, appeasing their hunger and trying to wind down
from their long, fruitless day. Blair finished first, and rolled up the waxed paper from his
sandwich. He tossed it towards the trash can, watching it arc through the kitchen and land in
the bucket, the soft swish of the lid rolling back into place a testament to his perfect aim. He
raised his arms in victory and grinned at his partner.
"Two points, man. Let's see you beat that," Blair challenged.
Jim raised his eyebrows and regarded his grinning partner coolly.
"Me? Go up against the best aim in the Northwest? Uh uh, partner, you win." Shaking his
head, he rose and walked to the trash, depositing his own wrapper and placing his empty beer
bottle in the recycle bin while Blair preened and made cheering sounds. He grabbed a fresh
beer from the refrigerator and turned to continue their banter when he noticed the blinking red
light on the answering machine. He walked past his partner on his way to the phone, playfully
batting at his head.
"I bet this is your message from Orvelle Wallace, begging you to come and play for the
Jags."
"Yeah, I'm holding out for $3.2 million. He must have finally caved," quipped his still
grinning friend.
"Did you remember to include the clause about supporting your poor, aging partner with
your untold riches?"
"Of course, man. Shady Acres Retirement Community has a room waiting with your name
on it."
Jim rolled his eyes heavenward and sighed. He knew he wouldn't get the best of Blair
tonight, and just pressed the play button on the machine.
As the call progressed, Jim felt the calm established by their teasing disintegrate. He
turned to face his roommate, red-faced.
"Oops." Clever, Ellison, really clever. No wonder Blair wins every battle of wits.
You're practically unarmed.
"Oops?" Blair's tone was level, but there was a sharp glint of anger in his blue eyes.
"I forgot."
"You forgot."
"Yes, I forgot. It was a crazy day, Blair, you know that -- you were there."
"Yes, Jim, I was there. I saw the hundreds of pieces of paper on your desk, not one
of which was used to write down a simple message." Jim raised his hands, palms forward.
"Look, Blair, I'm sorry. She called just before I went to meet you in Records. I figured I'd
walk right down and tell you but Rafe and Brown interrupted me in the hallway and it went
right out of my head."
"Why didn't you write it down?"
"I don't know, Sandburg, can we just drop it?" he snapped. Jim knew he had made a
mistake as he watched Blair's face get redder.
"Dammit, Jim, how could you do this to me? I really wanted to go out with her!"
He pushed his chair back and began pacing through the apartment, words of disdain flowing
out of his mouth as he moved.
Jim Ellison kept his mouth shut. He knew he had screwed up, but he also knew that Blair
needed to blow off some steam before they could come to that conclusion together. Despite
the earlier levity, both of them were still stressed and edgy. The detective was not going to get
into a pissing contest with his partner when they were both upset. If he learned anything from
his marriage to Carolyn, it was never to take cheap shots at someone when they were angry.
Some things, once said, simply could not be taken back.
Sipping his beer, he moved to the living room and sat on the couch. Once there, he forced
himself to keep his eyes on the distressed young man before him, who was doing his
damnedest to bore a hole through the carpet with his pacing.
"Andrea Reynolds is, like, the most amazing woman. She's smart, she's beautiful, she's
successful, she's unattached right now, and she came right out yesterday and said she is very
interested in me. In me, Jim. So I give her my number, she actually calls me, and what
do you do Jim? You screw it up! Oh, no, Jim Ellison can't bother to write the message down,
he of the unfailing memory. Noooooo, of course he'll remember, but guess what, buddy, you
blew it!" Blair jabbed a finger in Jim's chest to make his point.
Jim schooled his features to calmness, silently using the anthropologist's own words to still
his irritation. I am calm. I. . . Am. . . Calm he repeated in his head. His entire body
radiated calmness, or so he thought.
"And don't think I can't see that jaw of yours working."
Damn. His jaw always did have a mind of its own. His dentist was going to kill
him if he didn't learn to stop clenching it. Sighing internally, he focused his attention back on
his roommate.
". . . so whatever it is you want to say, you can save it. I am not in the mood for platitudes
tonight. Man, I am so pissed at you!" Blair moved away from Jim now, pacing into the
kitchen, around the island and back toward the couch, where his partner sat, beer in hand and
contrite expression on his face, jaw notwithstanding. With a final sound of disgust, he stormed
through the living room to the patio doors and continued out into the night air.
Bracing his hands on the railing, Blair forced himself to take several deep breaths.
Jim sat and silently contemplated his roommate for a few minutes. The events of the past
few days had been traumatic, but also enlightening. He was proud of the way Blair had
handled himself at the Rowlings' yesterday, and the normally mind-numbing task of sorting
through background checks and profiles was made much more pleasant by having his partner at
his side. Jim always appreciated having Blair's sharp mind around during days like this one --
hell, he appreciated it every day. So why didn't he tell him that more often? Instead of praising
his efforts, he had snapped out his agitation at his partner all day and forgotten to give him a
message that was clearly important to him.
'You always hurt the ones you love.' The words to the old song flashed in his mind and he
nodded to himself at the truth they held. He could let down his guard with Blair, let the real
Jim Ellison shine through -- it just so happened the real Jim Ellison had been an asshole lately.
He trusted Blair implicitly and treasured his friendship -- he couldn't ask for a better partner.
More than that, though, the debt he owed the younger man for saving his sanity, for helping
him control and hone his enhanced senses... words simply couldn't express his gratitude. But
he knew he had to try.
Gazing out onto the balcony, Jim could see that Blair's posture was still rigid, so he decided
to give him a few more minutes alone.
Ahhh, Blair, I know it's not easy to be my partner, my Guide, Shaman to my Sentinel.
Not to mention the obligations you have to Rainier as teacher, as well as student. It doesn't
leave you a whole lot of time to just be a man. You would have been able to let go of all your
other facets with Andrea. Why am I so afraid that you'll like that freedom too much and decide
on that route over being with me? Jim shook his head abruptly. This mental conversation
was going places he didn't want to go tonight, and he didn't have the luxury of self-pity right
now. Blair needed him.
He walked to the refrigerator and pulled out two fresh beers. Mentally bracing himself in
case he hadn't given Blair enough time to lose his anger, he strode out onto the balcony and
stood next to his partner. Blair accepted the beer from Jim, but didn't speak. After a few more
minutes of silence and a big sigh, Blair turned towards him.
"Jim, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."
"No, you shouldn't have," he replied with a smile to take the bite out of his words. "Just
like I shouldn't have bitten your head off when we were examining the car yesterday. I know
you were trying to help me, and I was behaving like a complete ass. I proved your point for
you. Next time, I'll take a break before I get too stressed out to speak civilly to my partner.
The same goes for my attitude today." He took a deep breath and continued. "As for the
message from Andrea, I have no excuse. I was caught up in the background checks, and it just
slipped my mind. I'm really sorry. I know now how important it was to you, and I blew it. I
hope you will accept my apology...for everything."
Blair looked at his roommate and stifled the urge to grin. Hell, he was ready to burst out in
song! It wasn't often that Jim Ellison came right out and apologized -- calling himself an ass,
no less! Well, he had been an ass, but for him to admit it! Blair allowed a half-smile to show
on his face.
"Apology accepted, big guy. Now, if only I could get you to let up on the house rules, my
life would be nirvana."
Jim grinned and cuffed his partner on the side of the head, holding himself back from
pulling him into an embrace. He wasn't sure what he had done to deserve such a friend and
partner as Blair Sandburg, but he'd happily go on doing it to keep him at his side. Carolyn
would have picked up a piece of firewood and bashed him with it if he had treated her the way
he had treated Blair these past few days, apology or no apology. Instead, his Guide had
forgiven him and then lightened the mood, lifting the burden of guilt Jim had been carrying
with two sentences.
"Don't press your luck, Chief, the house rules stay," he said, and turned to look out at the
night-clad city Blair had been contemplating before he had interrupted him.
They stood in companionable silence for a while, each sipping his beer, knowing there was
more that needed to be spoken of.
"Blair?" Jim began. "Do you want to talk about what's really bothering you?"
Blair turned to face his partner, strong emotions playing across his face, none of them
pleasant ones.
"Jenna," he whispered, turning back again to the cityscape. "She's out there somewhere,
definitely scared, maybe hurt, with God only knows who trying to bargain with her life. I
mean, she's just a kid! Kids shouldn't have to worry about things like this."
Neither should grad students thought Jim. Especially ones who feel as deeply
as you do. He placed his hand on Blair's shoulder, pleased when he heard the younger man
sigh and lean slightly into the hand.
"I know," Jim said simply.
"I can still see her face, you know, when we met her before. Remember?"
"Yeah, I do."
Six Months Earlier
"No way, Chief, I am not spending the equivalent of a week's paycheck on a tent I
will only use three or four times a year."
"Wow, man, did you get a raise or something? Last time I checked, you didn't make this
much in a week!"
Jim rolled his eyes heavenward and walked away from the tent that had excited his partner.
"It's just an expression, Sandburg, but the answer is still no. Why don't we look down this
way?" Jim continued to grumble under his breath about the outrageous prices for camping
equipment when a strange sound caught his attention. Moving towards it, he was halfway
down the row of less expensive tents, when he realized Blair had not followed him. He walked
back to see him coming out of the high-priced tent, an expression of wonder on his face.
"Hey, Chief, come here a minute."
"Jim, you're not gonna believe this. That tent actually has a built-in strip for an electrical
hookup. You just attach a car battery and voila! -- lights, heater, TV, electric stove, the works!
Total luxury, man!" At Jim's pointed stare, he quieted. "What is it, Jim?"
"I hear something."
"Well, we are in a mall, Jim. Lots of sounds here, big guy." Blair's waggled eyebrows and
grin clearly failed to impress his partner, who continued to stare at him until Blair's grin faded.
"Um, is it something with your senses?" he asked.
"Yeah. It's coming from inside one of the tents over there." He pointed to a row of much
smaller tents, behind the more deluxe models. He walked towards the sound, Blair following
close behind. "I think it's a child."
"Like a baby?"
"No, like a little girl. She's crying."
"Aw, man, you think she's lost?"
"Probably. It's this one," he whispered, not wanting to startle the tent's occupant. "Why
don't you go in there? You're much better at these kinds of things."
Blair grinned up at his partner. "I seem to recall you getting along quite well with Stacy."
"Sandburg..." The warning growl was met with a light laugh.
"Okay, okay, I'm going in, but why don't you wait a minute. You can get a good look at
her, then try to find out who lost her."
"Sandburg..." This time, it was a sigh. Blair was getting more impressed with the number
of emotions Jim could put into that one word. But he'd have to save that train of thought for
later. The "Sandburg" sigh would soon revert back to the "Sandburg" growl and would then
undoubtedly escalate from there to the "Sandburg" bark. Of course, the "Sandburg" bellow was
also a well-used favorite of Jim's.
"What are you grinning about?"
"I'll tell you some other time. Ready?" Jim nodded, then watched as Blair crouched down
and made a knocking sound as he rapped on the soft door to the tent.
"Hellooooooo," he sing-songed. "Anybody home?" His words were met with a sniffle.
Glancing once up at Jim, he continued. "Is the lady of the tent home?"
Jim grinned at Blair's variation of the standard door-to-door sales tactic.
Hesitantly, a small hand unzipped the tent, and Blair stared into tear-filled eyes.
"Who are you?" The voice was soft, but determined.
"My name's Blair, nice to meet you." He extended his hand to her, and waited as she
shifted the stuffed animal she had been clutching to one arm, then reached out to firmly shake
his hand. He smiled at the efficiency in her gesture.
"This is my partner, Jim, he's a police officer."
The girl was wary until Jim showed her his badge. Something about the way she studied it
before giving it a satisfied nod made him think she was familiar with badges. He looked at
Blair, who returned a questioning gaze.
"Did you get lost or did you just decide you liked this room better than your own?" Blair
asked.
She sniffled again. "I got separated from my mom, and I got scared." Blair scooted a bit
closer to her as he nodded in understanding.
"That happened to me once. I was so afraid I thought I'd squeeze the stuffing out of my
teddy bear. My mom found me though, and Jim and I will help you find your mom."
She nodded, and pulled her stuffed unicorn closer to her body.
"Would you mind if I came in and sat with you for a while?" Blair noticed her glance in
Jim's direction and quickly continued. "Jim'll stay outside. He's way too tall to fit in here,
anyway." He grinned at her and saw a ghost of a smile flitter across her face. Jim sighed and
moved away slightly as Blair crawled in and sat cross-legged next to the girl.
"He can be our guard," she said firmly, causing Blair to start. This little girl was definitely
familiar with the concept of security.
Blair looked at her for permission before he reached out to touch her toy.
"What's your unicorn's name?"
"Magic."
"That's a pretty name for a pretty unicorn."
She giggled. "He's not pretty, he's handsome."
Blair put his hand on his heart and nodded to Magic. "My apologies, kind sir, you are a
magnificent example of a unicorn."
With a smile, she held him out to Blair, who petted the soft mane. "Do you feel like you
can tell me your name?"
Staring into his eyes, Blair felt as if she were trying to read his heart. "My name is Jenna
Rowlings."
Jim took a deep breath as he heard Blair do the same. He called a salesperson over and got
the number for the mall office. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed the office, gave his name
and badge number, and informed them that he had found Jenna. He heard Blair chatting with
the young girl about teddy bears and unicorns, making her laugh when he conferred seriously
with Magic about his opinion on the subject. Within minutes, there were Secret Service agents
discreetly swarming the area, and Katherine Rowlings was hugging Jenna tightly to her body.
Andrea Reynolds stood off to the side, watching the scene, her eyes lingering on Blair's face as
he watched the mother and daughter.
Breaking away, Jenna ran over to Blair and tugged on his jacket. Crouching down, he was
surprised when she held out the unicorn to him.
"Magic likes you. I think you should take him." There was a wistful sadness in her eyes as
she handed him over.
Blair took the unicorn, surprising Jim for a moment. The younger man scratched the
unicorn behind his ears, rubbed his mane, and then handed him back to the little girl.
"Do you think you could take care of him for me? I don't really know what to feed
unicorns or how to take proper care of them."
Jenna smiled as she took the unicorn back and hugged him. "I'll take care of him and play
with him, and you can come over to see him whenever you want to, okay?"
"It's a deal," Blair replied, and held out his hand for her to shake.
Instead, Jenna threw herself at Blair, wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him
tightly. For a moment, he teetered on his heels, but then wrapped his arms around the little girl
and hugged her back.
"Okay, Jenna. You and Magic stick close to your mom, now."
"We will." Jenna clasped Katherine's hand, swinging it as she looked up at her mother.
Katherine Rowlings smiled at Jim and Blair.
"Thank you, Detectives, for finding and taking care of my daughter."
Both men smiled, and Jim nodded toward Jenna. "It was our pleasure, Mrs. Rowlings."
Two more beautiful smiles from the Rowlings women, and they were swept away by
Secret Service agents. Andrea followed behind them, after giving Blair a lingering glance and
a speculative smile.
Present
Blair shivered as a gust of cold air swept across the balcony, raising goose bumps on his
skin. He didn't want to think about anything anymore. He was tired, and knew Jim must be,
too.
"Hey Jim, what do you say we call it a night?"
"Good idea, Chief."
They made their way back into the apartment, and Blair took his and Jim's empty beer
bottles to the recycle bin. At the door to his room, Blair turned and was comforted as he
watched Jim lock the balcony doors, then check the locks on the front and back doors to the
loft, a routine he followed every night. Jim noticed his partner's gaze and the smile on his face
and grinned back, confused.
"What is it?"
Blair stood for a moment, meeting Jim's eyes, wondering if he could put into words how he
was feeling. He was apprehensive about what tomorrow might bring with the kidnapping, but
right at that moment he felt safe, cared for, and at peace. Jim's simple act of securing their
home gave him a centered calmness that he knew would carry him into restful sleep. Right
then, he likened Jim's presence to a walking, talking, gun-carrying teddy bear -- one that would
probably turn into a grizzly with an attitude if he knew how his roommate perceived him. Blair
decided he would definitely keep this train of thought to himself. His grin widened.
"Nothing, man. Good night."
Jim didn't question Blair, although he felt there was more to that beguiling smile than good
night wishes. He caught Blair's shoulder in a quick squeeze as he passed him on his way to the
bathroom.
"Good night, Chief."
Before he fell asleep, Blair found himself running through the argument he'd had with Jim,
dispelling the peace which had settled over him just minutes earlier. He felt foolish for
reacting so strongly over the missed chance for dinner with Andrea. Sure, he was attracted to
her, but not so much that he should have torn into Jim like he did. Jim had forgiven him, but
Blair just couldn't let it go just yet. He was feeling too guilty.
At some point -- he wasn't sure when it had happened -- Jim had become more important to
him than anything. And that certainly included Andrea Reynolds.
Blair sighed and chalked his outburst up to exhaustion and apprehension. He and Jim had
another long day ahead of them tomorrow, hopefully one that would net them some answers,
and he was determined to do everything he could to help his partner. Jim's senses were their
edge, and once they had a lead to follow, he was confident they could end this ordeal, for Jenna
and for themselves.
He rolled to his side and made himself more comfortable, burrowing further under the
blankets. He brought into his mind the image of his solid, capable roommate, guarding his
home and his dreams, letting the vision lull him to sleep. He would talk to Andrea in the
morning and let her know that dinner would have to wait until after the case was solved. His
Sentinel needed him to be 100%, and he wasn't going to let him down.
So it was with a great deal of reluctance, the next afternoon, that Blair found himself
driving down a winding road in a heavily wooded area about an hour and a half north of the
city, heading towards a meeting with Andrea Reynolds. The sky was darkened by clouds and a
light rain fell steadily, as it had all day.
Halfway through the afternoon, she had called him, crying and begging him to come and
meet her at her family's cabin in the Cascade National Forest. She told him Mrs. Rowlings had
given her the next few days off, and that she was going crazy with distress over Jenna's
kidnapping and her inability to help in any way. A little R&R at the cabin had sounded like a
good idea, but now she wanted to get back to Cascade.
Blair had tried to get her to meet him in town, but she told him that when she had gone up
to the cabin, a sharp rock in the driveway had flattened her tire, and now she had no way of
getting back to the city, her spare having also been flattened a few months back. While she
berated herself for being so stupid as to forget to get the tire fixed, Blair told her he would
come and get her.
Andrea had quieted almost instantly and thanked him for being so kind to her. Again, she
mentioned the connection she felt with him that day at the Rowlings' home, causing a blush to
creep over his face, a blush noticed by his partner, who had returned to the desk they shared.
Blair mouthed 'Andrea' to Jim while pointing at the receiver, and rolled his eyes at the dark
look his partner threw him. Pulling a pad of paper over from Jim's side of the desk, he
scribbled the directions she gave him and promised he'd be on his way soon. He thought he
heard her emit a sob as he was hanging up the phone, and hoped she wasn't too upset when he
got there. Somehow, the thought of comforting Andrea had lost some of its appeal over the
past two days. He looked up to see Jim standing over him, the Sentinel's arms crossed over his
chest, and understood why.
"Cut it out, you idiot!" Andrea hissed at the man standing next to her as she clicked off her
cell phone, slapping at his hand.
"Come on, baby, you know you love it," the tall, dark-haired man crooned into her neck as
he ran his hands freely over her body, stopping to pinch her again, making her squeal in
frustration and pull away from him.
"Trevor, I was on the goddamned phone with the cop's partner. It would be really great if
I'm trying to sound distraught and then start giggling in the middle of a sob."
"Sorry, baby. How 'bout I make it up to you?" He moved closer and slung his arms around
her hips, pulling her close until their bodies were flush, a leer covering his face.
"Not now, Trevor. We need to go and pick up Chuck." She pulled away from him and
gestured towards one of the cabin's doors. "Go tell Edward to keep an eye on the kid and to
hang on to Blair when he gets here. I need to go and put a hole in one of my tires."
"What? What if we need your car later on?"
"I have a spare, Trevor, don't worry. I told Blair that I needed him to get me because my
tire went flat." She poked a finger in his chest. "Which you would have heard if you had been
listening and not copping a feel at the time."
Trevor grinned unashamedly for a moment before knitting his brows in confusion.
"How come we need to hang on to this Blair character?"
"He's Detective Ellison's partner and we need to get the two of them off the case. The
other idiots can be manipulated, but these guys worry me. They're too good. Ellison will
figure this thing out soon, I know he will. So, darling," she punctuated the endearment with a
quick kiss, "we hang on to his partner and give him a little incentive to back off until the
Senator makes an ass of himself and we get rich. Detective Ellison will be so worried about
his buddy that he'll be sure to back off this case" They grinned at each other for a minute.
"Weren't you gonna have dinner with him or something?" At Trevor's question, Andrea got
angry.
"The two of them stayed late at work instead -- probably getting closer to pinning this on
me. He never even called me back. I had Chuck at Donatello's all night, waiting to grab him,
too. Waste of time, that was," she spat.
"He disappears up here and Ellison's gonna know that you're in on this."
"Relax. Once we've got him, we'll dump his car. There are some nice tight curves and
sharp drop offs on the road that leads up here. We'll make it look like he disappeared before he
got here. I'll even make another call and talk to Ellison about how worried I am that Blair
hasn't made it yet. Play damsel in distress."
"You do that and you're gonna bring the cop to our doorstep."
"You'll be on the move with the kid and Blair by then. I didn't plan to sit the whole thing
out here. It's too risky. I've got another spot picked out where we can wait out the Senator's
announcement. It's nice and private. And there's no way for anyone to tie it to me. Now, go
and talk to Edward, I'll be outside. Oh, and toss some crackers in to the kid, she must be
getting hungry."
Blair squinted at the battered sign which hung at the junction of two barely paved roads
and re-checked the directions. Turning onto the road on the left and continuing on, he let his
mind wander to the day he had spent with Jim.
Arriving at the station around 7:30 a.m., they had scoured through each of the files on the
people closest to the Rowlings family. All day, Jim kept mentioning a nagging suspicion that
he was missing something. After reviewing the statements of all the people involved, he
discovered he was right.
"Hey Chief, do you have Andrea's statement?"
"What?" Blair lifted his gaze from the copy of the ransom note he had been studying to
regard his partner.
"Andrea Reynolds' statement. Do you have it?" Blair shifted through the pile of folders in
front of him on the desk.
"No, I don't." His face turned thoughtful for a moment. "You know, Jim, I don't remember
seeing it yesterday, either. Where did you put it after you took it?"
"I didn't take a statement from her, Sandburg. Simon did."
"Does he have it?"
"I don't know why he would, but I hope so." Jim checked his watch before continuing.
"He's still at a meeting with the Mayor and won't be back until later this afternoon, probably.
Damn, I thought I had something here."
"What? Tell me." Blair moved his chair closer to Jim's.
"Okay." Jim took a quick sip of his coffee before continuing. "Whoever grabbed Jenna
had to have had some pretty specific information about where and when she would be dropped
off for school. Mrs. Rowlings' schedule was anything but routine, and different people took
Jenna to school on different days. The route they would take to get there was never exactly the
same, either, and none of it was deserted. That would make it difficult, but not impossible, to
make the grab, but only if they knew exactly who was taking her that morning, and the route he
or she would take."
"That makes sense, Jim. So who is on your list?"
"Well, I started out by listing who couldn't have known -- and that includes all of Senator
Rowlings' colleagues. I'm not saying they couldn't be involved, but Washington D.C. is too far
away to monitor a schedule. There's got to be someone locally. As for Jenna's teachers and
classmates, they aren't privy to her means of getting to school, which is when the grab
took place. So that leaves someone close to Mrs. Rowlings.
"I wanted to see Andrea's statement so we could take a look at who besides herself had
access to Mrs. Rowlings' schedule that day. I'd also like to have a look at Ms. Reynolds'
background check. I don't remember seeing it yesterday, either."
"You don't think she's involved, Jim, do you?"
"Blair, she was in the best position to assist the kidnappers, whether she meant to or not.
I'm not saying she had anything to do with it, but I want you to be careful if you do end up
going out to dinner with her before this whole thing is wrapped up."
"Jim..." The detective cut off his partner's protest with a hand.
"Humor me, Chief. These guys are sick enough to use a six year old girl to get what they
want. We don't know that they will stop at that. And if Ms. Reynolds is involved in
some way, I'd rather you not get hurt by all this."
Blair had nothing to say to that, so he simply nodded. After a pointed look in Blair's
direction, Jim rose, stretched and headed towards the break room with his empty coffee cup.
Blair went back to studying the ransom note in his hands. He couldn't help but chafe a bit at
Jim's overprotective attitude towards him, but knew that trouble had found him often enough to
warrant that concern. He was musing over the whereabouts of Andrea Reynolds' statement
when the phone rang.
Speak of the devil.
Of course, Jim was less than pleased that Blair would be making the trip, and with a
suspect, no less. It took a bit of wrangling, but with the promise that his cell phone was
charged and in his backpack, and the incentive that he might learn some more from Andrea on
the ride home, Jim relented.
Blair made a quick stop at a gas station to fill his gas tank and grab a bottle of water and
snacks for the ride, then he was on his way.
About an hour after Blair had left to pick up Andrea, Jim saw Simon stride through the
bullpen and enter his office, shutting the door forcefully behind him. Any time his captain had
to meet with the Mayor, he became edgy. The fact that a senator's child was missing and no
apparent progress had been made by his department made him more ill-tempered than usual.
Jim wondered sometimes how hard it must be for a man with a cop's instincts and mentality,
like Simon, to deal with the bureaucracy involved in his position of captain. Days like this one
were becoming too frequent, and the strain on his friend was noticeable.
Jim looked down at the list on his desk, and decided to brave the captain's mood to get
some answers. He walked to Simon's door and knocked before entering.
Simon was emptying the grounds from his morning pot of coffee into the waste basket
while perusing his flavor options for the afternoon pot. He looked up briefly at Jim and waved
him into a seat while he measured out scoops of ground coffee and poured water from a gallon
jug into his machine. Leaning back in his chair as the machine began its work, he looked at
Jim and sighed.
"Tell me why I agreed to take the captain's exam, Jim, will you?"
"Because you're the best man for the job, sir," Jim said honestly.
"Suck up," Simon replied with a grin. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ellison, I need it
today after the meeting I just had."
Jim decided to ignore Simon's obvious desire to complain about the stresses of his position,
and instead focused on his own job.
"Sorry to hear about your morning, sir, but I need to know if you have Andrea Reynolds'
statement."
"Why would I have Andrea Reynolds' statement? You and Sandburg are the point men for
all the paperwork in this case. If you two don't have it, it doesn't exist."
"Didn't you take her statement at the Rowlings' house the other day?"
"I assigned Brown and Rafe to take everyone's statements except Mr. and Mrs. Rowlings.
You and I handled those." Simon glanced out to the bullpen and spotted Henri Brown and
called him in.
"Do you have Andrea Reynolds' statement, H?" Jim asked him. "Blair and I have been
looking for it all morning, and since you and Rafe handled her questioning, I thought you might
still have the file." Brown furrowed his brow in concentration for a moment before answering.
"She told me you took it, so Rafe and I never talked to her."
"Dammit!" Henri and Simon were startled by the sudden shout from Jim. The Sentinel
stood up and grabbed Simon's phone, dialing Blair's cell phone as he spoke to the other men in
the room.
"Blair got a call from Andrea asking him to come meet her at some cabin up north of town.
I don't want him up there until we figure out what Andrea is hiding."
"Wait a minute, Jim. Aren't you jumping to conclusions here? Maybe Ms. Reynolds
thought we were going to speak to her after we finished with the Rowlings."
"I don't think so, sir. Think about it. She knew exactly where and when Jenna would be on
her way to school that morning. We have no background check on her, and everyone else
looks clean. She stays close enough to keep tabs on what we're doing for days, but now she's
up at some remote cabin? I have a really bad feeling about this." He listened to the receiver
for a minute before slamming the phone back down.
"Dammit, he's out of cell range. I should have known the connections are spotty up there."
Jim strode from the office and grabbed his jacket from behind his chair. He pulled open his
second desk drawer and pulled out his backup revolver, affixing it to his ankle holster while
ignoring the demands from Simon that he stop what he was doing. Seeing the notepad Blair
had used to write down the directions to the cabin, he stuffed that into his jacket pocket before
turning to face his protesting captain.
"Simon, this is Blair Sandburg we're talking about. Anyone else and I'd be listening
attentively to you, but you know how he finds trouble, and this sounds like trouble to me."
"All right, all right. I'll trust your instincts on this one. Do you want backup?"
Any answer Jim might have made was silenced as Rhonda called out to Simon excitedly.
"Captain Banks, Rafe is on the phone from the Rowlings' house. He says the kidnappers
just called in, and they were able to complete a trace."
"Where?"
"About an hour southwest of here, a town called Peller's Gap."
"Tell him we're on our way and to stay at the house in case they decide to call again. Get
the specifics on the trace for me. I'll call you from the road." Simon ran to this office and
grabbed his coat. After donning it and checking his shoulder holster, he stopped in front of
Jim's desk and met his detective's eyes.
"Are you coming, Ellison?"
"Do I have a choice?" Jim snapped. If Simon was irritated at the tone in his detective's
voice, he didn't show it. The captain pursed his lips and looked long and hard into Jim's
determined face.
"I'd like to have my best detective along with me, but chances are his attention would be
elsewhere, am I right?"
"You're right, sir." Jim felt a small flicker of hope uncurl in his belly.
"Then you'd better go find your partner, but keep your cell phone with you!" he shouted at
Jim's retreating form. He let out his hundredth sigh of the day and turned to Detective Brown.
"Tell me why I agreed to take the captain's exam, Henri, will you?"
Blair slowed the Volvo while still on the road near the entrance to the Reynolds' driveway.
Through the scattering of trees, he could see the effects of a ruined rear tire on the sleek red
sports car parked there, the car sat on a definite angle. Deciding not to risk any of the tires on
his Volvo -- which cost him enough already simply on upkeep -- he barely pulled off the road
before stopping the car and engaging the emergency brake.
"Must have been a hell of a rock," he muttered as he turned the car off. He sat for a
minute, searching through his backpack for a stick of gum. He was serious about not starting
anything with Andrea while the case was still going on, but even he could still taste the onions
he had on his sandwich at lunch. Finding the gum, he unwrapped it, popped it in his mouth and
took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to comfort the distraught woman he knew he
would find in the cabin. He reached for his backpack, but before his hand closed around the
strap, a sudden movement near the back of the cabin caught his attention.
The screen from a small window was pushed to the ground moments before a small body
emerged from the same window. A body which looked strikingly like that of Jenna Rowlings.
What the hell?
Blair abandoned his backpack and raced from his car, following her as she dashed into the
trees. She was fast, but he was faster, and caught up to her about fifty feet from the cabin,
which was now partially obscured by the thick forest. He caught her around the waist and held
her against him while she struggled, kicking and writhing violently.
"No! Let me go! I don't want to go back with you! Let me go!" She continued to flail in
his grasp, even as he spoke to her.
"Jenna, calm down, it's Blair, ow!" he cried out as her heel caught him hard on the side of
his knee. Pulling her tighter against him, he continued his litany of words, hoping she
recognized him soon. "Jenna, it's Blair Sandburg, I met you when you and Magic got lost in
the mall. We sat in a tent and waited while my partner found your Mom, remember? Please,
Jenna, stop fighting and look at me. I'm not going to hurt you, it's okay, it's okay."
Something in his words or in his tone got through to the little girl, and she raised a timid
face to his, peering over her shoulder through her long blonde hair, now loosened from its
holder and hanging in disarray about her face.
"Blair?" she asked tentatively.
"Yeah, it's me."
"Oh, Blair!" she cried out and twisted around to face him, wrapping her arms around his
waist and holding on tightly. She began to cry as words spilled from her.
"I know I'm supposed to stay there while my Mom and Dad are away, but that man is so
mean and he scares me, and I was hoping someone else would come and mind me, and I
thought I could run into the woods and run home from here. Andrea's gonna be so mad at me
when she finds out I'm not in my room, but her friends are really mean to me, and I just want to
go home." Her voice broke and she began to cry harder.
"It's okay now, sweetie, I'm here and I'll take you home. Don't cry, Jenna, I'm here." He
soothed her with words and caresses, rubbing her back as she cried. Her grip on his waist
tightened and she let out a cry when he tried to loosen her hold enough to crouch down next to
her, but he succeeded, and wrapped her in a firmer embrace, still speaking words of comfort.
After a few more minutes, her tears abated somewhat, and he ventured a question.
"Jenna, can you tell me why you're here?" Blair dreaded the answer he knew was
forthcoming.
"Andrea and some of her friends told me I needed to stay here while my Mom and Dad
went on vacation." Good. At least she doesn't know why she's really here.
"How many friends does she have?"
"Two. Trevor and Edward. She talks about someone named Chuck, but he doesn't come
here to mind me when she goes on errands."
"Is she on an errand now?"
"Yes. She left Edward to mind me, and Trevor went with her. She's gonna be mad at me if
I'm not in my room when she gets back." Jenna began to cry again, and Blair pulled her against
his shoulder, hugging her tightly.
"It's okay, honey, I'm going to take you home. Your Mom and Dad are back, and they can't
wait to see you. I'll let Andrea know that I took care of you and she won't be mad at you at
all."
Even as he spoke calmly to the little girl, the sickening realization that Andrea was
involved in the kidnapping hit him like a blow. Jim had been right. All that feigned concern,
and she was the one behind those horrifying details of what would happen to Jenna if
cooperation was not given. The sandwich he had eaten for lunch churned in his stomach.
Pulling his thoughts away from everything but the child crying in his arms, he focused his mind
on getting her to safety and worrying about his warped judge of character later.
At least Jenna seemed unhurt. He ran his hands over her arms and down her legs,
murmuring soothing words as he did so, and softly asking her if they had hurt her at all. He
pulled her face gently away from his chest and looked into her tear-filled eyes.
"No, I'm okay. Just hungry."
He smiled at her and pressed an impulsive kiss to her forehead. He reached into his jacket
pocket and pulled out the candy bar he had bought at the gas station. She tore into it hungrily.
While she ate, he made small circles on her back with his hand and examined their
situation. All they needed to do was creep back to his car and they would be on their way
home. Once they were in cell range, he would call Jim and then take Jenna home. Now, to get
to the car without alerting the goon in the cabin. Turning his attention back to the cabin, he
watched a very pissed off man burst through the front door, gun drawn.
Dammit. Too late.
When Jenna heard the bellow of rage from the man, she paled and threw her arms around
Blair's neck, hugging him fiercely. He held her close and thanked all the gods he had ever
heard of that they were hidden in the woods when he heard the first gun shots. He tucked
Jenna into his chest and turned her back to the tree, shielding her as the gunfire continued. His
brain told him that the bullets were not directed at them, but his body still jumped at each blast
of metal hitting metal.
Oh God, he's shooting up my car! Jenna remained thankfully quiet throughout,
even though Blair felt like screaming like a madman and running wildly through the trees. To
his horror, the man actually stopped and reloaded before letting loose another round of shots
into the Volvo.
At last, the deafening noises stopped, and he found he could breathe again.
Jim stopped his truck dead in the middle of the winding road and jerked open his door.
Running into the center of the pavement, he listened. He had been driving with his senses wide
open, courting a zone-out that would probably find his '69 Ford wrapped around a tree and
himself a bloody, albeit unaware, mess. Pushing away the negative thoughts, he focused his
attention as Blair had taught him and just listened.
Yes, there it was again. Gunshots. Not close, but definitely there... in the direction he was
heading... where Blair was. Shit
Vaulting back into the cab of his truck, he looked again at the directions he had gleaned
from running his sensitive fingers over the notepad Blair had used when Andrea had called.
Without his partner to help him, it had taken longer than he hoped to make sense of the light
indentations on the page. He was still a ways from the cabin, and it seemed like his suspicions
had been correct. And Blair was now in the middle of it.
The gunshots continued, and he prayed that meant his partner had eluded them -- whoever
'they' were. What if there were more than a few? His cell phone was as useless as Blair's had
been in this part of the forest, but he wouldn't think of delaying his arrival to go back for help.
He hadn't thrived in Covert Ops for nothing. Being outnumbered was not a new thing for him,
and with his partner's life at risk, not to mention Jenna's, he would call on every tactic he had
ever learned to get them home safely.
Jaw clenched, he threw the truck into gear and drove as fast as he dared on the winding,
wooded road.
Blair risked a look towards his car and felt his stomach drop to his toes. Both front tires
were flat, steaming water was pouring through the grille from his punctured radiator, and the
front windshield was shattered, along with most of the glass in the car, it seemed. He tried not
to imagine the damage that firepower could have done to his body, or worse, to Jenna's, and
reached down to grasp her hand. She was wearing a turtleneck and a heavy sweatshirt with her
jeans -- the same clothes she had been wearing when she was taken, he noted angrily -- so
keeping her warm wouldn't be a problem too soon. Holding his finger across his lips, he leaned
close to her.
"Jenna, we're going to have to get out of here on foot. When I tell you to, I want you to run
as fast as you can in that direction," he whispered, pointing south. "I'll be right behind you, but
no matter what, I need you to keep running until you get to another cabin. When you get there,
call the police." He recalled seeing paths cut into the woods from the main road as he drove to
the cabin, which he assumed had been driveways. Hopefully, one of the cabins would contain
a working phone.
"I want to stay with you, Blair."
"I know, honey, I'll be right behind you. Edward is a little too mad to talk to right now, and
we need to get away from here, okay? Please, Jenna. Please promise me you'll run as fast as
you can and not stop until you reach another cabin. I'm just going to try and distract Edward.
You said he was the only one here, right?"
"Right."
"So you'll run when I say?" He nodded encouragingly at her, willing her to obey him.
"Okay." She squeezed his hand and looked gravely into his face with absolute trust.
Blair felt his heart constrict and looked away quickly before his emotions rose too much.
He had to make sure she was safe -- this whole mess would be worth it if she was safe.
Glancing around him, he found a rock that was rounded enough for what he planned.
Holding it in his right hand and tossing it slowly to gauge its weight, he eased Jenna behind
him as he crouched behind the tree. Seeing another slightly larger rock, he pocketed it.
They waited.
Edward Centorini was pissed. He had fucked up... fucked up big time. Andrea and Trevor
were counting on him to keep track of one stinking little brat, one who was supposedly locked
up tight in an inescapable room. How hard could that be?
They hadn't said a word about letting her take a piss or not -- he had thought nothing of
allowing it, and the brat had escaped. Little shit had climbed right through the window. And
he had fallen asleep while waiting for her to finish. Jesus, how the hell long did he think it
took kids to go?
If his legs hadn't slipped off the chair, he wouldn't even have known. That was almost
more embarrassing than losing the kid. Of course, running out to the driveway and seeing that
green Volvo there had spiked his already searing rage. Now he had to get her back and take
out the hippie before Andrea and Trevor got back with Chuck. It had felt good to blast the
guy's car to scrap metal, there's no way he'd be driving away any time soon. The guy wasn't in
the car when he shot it up, which meant he was out there somewhere with the kid.
"FUCK!"
Edward kicked at the ruined front end of the Volvo as he bellowed, wondering how he was
going to fix this damn mess he was in. As if in answer to his thought, he saw movement in the
woods.
"Ha! Got you, you little fucker," he muttered just before the rock struck his eye.
"Yes!"
Blair allowed himself a shout of victory as he took off running after Jenna. True to her
word, she had bolted as soon as he told her to move. His aim with the rock was as true as it
had always been, he just hoped that goon stayed down long enough for him and Jenna to make
good their escape.
The bellow of pain and outrage he heard a few moments later, combined with the crashing
footsteps in the woods behind him, crushed those hopes.
A gun shot rang out, and he flinched, ducking instinctively as he ran. He wove around the
foliage while pulling the second rock from his pocket. He could never make the throw while
running, so he started looking for cover. More shots rang out, and he swore one passed not
three inches from his head. Shit, shit, shit!
His heart flip-flopped as he saw Jenna hesitate momentarily ahead of him, then take off
faster than before.
Good girl he thought, as he spotted a slight rise in the forest floor to his left where
three wide evergreens formed a natural pocket of cover.
He threw himself into the trees and turned to see his target. The guy was only twenty yards
from where he was and raising his gun towards his own, now stationary, target.
With a shout, Blair hurled the rock as hard as he could, knowing the asshole would stay
down this time if his aim was true. The moment the rock left his hand, he started running
again. He heard another gunshot at almost the same moment as a solid, satisfying thunk -- a
rock-hitting-flesh kind of thunk. He didn't need to see the man to know he was down for the
count and then some.
He was two steps away from the ring of trees when his feet slipped out from under him and
he went down hard, sliding a few feet in the wet leaves and mud. Scrambling to his feet, he
felt the beginnings of a cramp in his lower back, but ignored it in favor of catching up with
Jenna, who was now nearly fifty yards ahead of him. Hell, his legs and side were cramped
from this mad dash, why not his back too? He fell twice more, and he saw Jenna picking
herself up a few times, still well in front of him. He wanted to call out to her, to tell her to
slow down a little and wait for him, but knew they needed to get as far away from Andrea's
cabin as possible before he would allow himself to rest. So he continued to run.
The cramping was growing worse, and his hand pressed tightly to his lower back did little
to stop it. He heaved air into his lungs as he ran, hoping to allay any further cramps.
Stumbling through some bushes, he just missed plowing into Jenna. He steadied himself
against a tree and turned to watch behind them for any signs of pursuit.
"You okay?" he managed between panting breaths.
"I think so. I'm all wet, Blair."
"Me, too. But I know I saw some cabins farther down this way. We can get dried off when
we get to one, but if we stop now, there's a good chance Andrea and her other friends will find
us out here."
Jenna's brown eyes widened noticeably, and a shudder ran through her small body, so Blair
impulsively reached out to hug her close to him. He held on until his breathing was slowed and
the cramping in his back had lessened.
"Don't worry, kiddo, I won't let anything happen to you. No matter what, I swear nothing is
going to happen to you."
Jenna's arms tightened their hold around his waist, and he gasped at the pain that caused.
She pulled away quickly.
"Blair?" Jenna held out her hand towards him. The hand that had been gripping his back.
It was coated with something dark and sticky... blood. Oh God.
Simon checked one more time with the members of his SWAT team, pleased with their
response. Everyone was ready. As he chewed his unlit cigar, he wished that Jim had decided
to come along with them. Having someone who could hear heartbeats from three houses down
would have been helpful on this operation.
Recalling where Jim was headed at the moment, he hoped the detective took it easy on
Sandburg when he caught up to his partner. Blair had worked his way into the captain's heart
as surely as he had the Sentinel's. Just because the kid was always trying to comfort the people
around him -- suspects, no less -- didn't make him a bad partner. He was a very good one, in
fact. He had everything but the badge and the weapons training, the latter of which Simon was
secretly trying to amend.
After a final look through his binoculars, he signaled his men to move in.
He hoped this didn't take too long. If this turned into a siege, he'd be hard pressed to assure
the media it was only a training exercise.
Jim slowed his truck to a crawl as he approached the turnoff to the driveway where he
could see Blair's car parked. Blair's decimated car. Fingers of ice clutched at his heart as he
viewed the damage that had been done to his partner's car. He pulled his truck to the side of
the driveway a few feet from the road. Pulling out his gun, he crept from the seat and opened
his senses.
He could smell the radiator fluid which pooled beneath the ruined vehicle, and the scent of
spent bullets. At least two full rounds from a semi-automatic had been used, he guessed. He
listened for heartbeats and found none. He jogged to the cabin and entered. Whoever had been
staying here had no thought for housekeeping. The remnants of several meals lay on the
counters of the kitchen while dirty pots and pans littered the sink. Wrinkling his nose in
disgust, he dialed down his sense of smell and moved away from the kitchen. There was a
television in the living room, still on and showing a soccer match. Filtering out the sound of
the raucous commentary, Jim continued to search the cabin.
There were three bedrooms. The first two he checked held adults' clothing and toiletries.
He recognized Andrea's perfume, and noted two distinct aftershaves. Okay, so there's at
least three of them.
On the door to the third bedroom, he could see the recently installed padlock device, now
unfastened, on the outside. Opening the door, he saw a rumpled bed on which sat a stuffed toy,
but no other signs of occupancy. He moved over to the bed and picked up the stuffed unicorn,
remembering the animal's name.
"Where are Jenna and Blair, Magic?" he whispered to the toy. Magic didn't answer him.
He laid him back on the bed and left the room.
He entered the bathroom, noticing immediately the missing screen. Bending out the
window, he saw footprints in the mud -- child-sized footprints -- and ran quickly through the
cabin and out into the darkening evening. Judging by the rainfall, the footprints couldn't be
more than an hour, hour and a half old. Pulling out his cell phone, he cursed aloud at the now
very familiar "out of cell range" message.
He followed the small footprints until they were met by a larger pair. Blair. Jim
was suddenly grateful for the anthropologist's insistence that Jim accompany him on the
shopping trip during which he had picked them out. Blair had gushed about the superb tread
on those particular hiking boots, and showed them to his less-than-enthralled partner. He could
still see Blair's laughing eyes as he informed Jim that jealousy was a very ugly emotion.
Jim smiled at the memory as he followed the tread marks through the woods. He expanded
his hearing, and was surprised to pick up a slowed heartbeat. A heartbeat that was definitely
not his partner's. He traced the sound to an inert form lying in the leaves. Turning the man
over, he noted the large bruises on the man's face.
"Best aim in the Northwest strikes again," he said aloud to the unconscious man as he
cuffed his hands behind his back, pride for his resourceful partner swelling in his chest. He
found the man's gun and emptied the clip, pocketing the bullets and leaving the gun a few feet
away from the kidnapper.
He decided to leave the man where he was. Even if he did wake up, the cuffs would keep
him out of further trouble. He needed to find Blair and Jenna. Rising from his crouch, he
moved slowly through the woods until he spotted the two sets of footprints again. They had
been running.
An area of crushed leaves caught his attention. Or rather, what he smelled mixed with
those leaves caused those frigid fingers to clutch again at his heart. He smelled blood. There
wasn't a lot if it, but it was definitely there. He quickened his pace, following the trail of
footprints interspersed now with small droplets of blood. Blair was hurt. He was still moving,
but he was definitely hurt.
Hang on buddy, I'm coming.
Hi Blair, this is Andrea Reynolds. Umm, is everything okay? I called the station earlier
today and spoke to Jim and asked him to tell you to call me. I was really hoping we could
go out to dinner tonight. I even made reservations at Donatello's, but I never heard from
you. I hope you're not mad about anything. I thought we hit it off yesterday, but, umm,
whatever. I'm going to go to bed early. I'll, uh. . . maybe I'll call you at the station
tomorrow. Bye.