Sentinel - Progression Series 09 To Have and To Hold

  Disclaimer: The characters depicted within this story do not belong to us, but are the property of Pet Fly, UPN, Paramount and The SciFi Channel. No money has been made from the writing of this story.

  Note from the Authors: In our Sentinel universe, the events depicted in "The Sentinel by Blair Sandburg" did not occur. Therefore, any "canonical" references that may be found in this story are related to episodes up to and including "Most Wanted."

  Dedication: This series is dedicated to friendship, for only through caring for others can we truly find a sense of peace and belonging.

  To Have and To Hold

  Part Nine of "The Progressions" Series

  by Beth Manz and Shiloh

  Part One

  Blair Sandburg steered his Volvo into the underground parking garage at the Cascade Police Department, finding an open spot near the elevator for a change. His morning classes at Rainier had gone smoothly, but he was anxious to get to work with Jim. They'd been busy for a week running down leads on an arson case they'd been assigned and Blair knew Jim would want to hit the streets as soon as he arrived.

  Shutting off the engine, Blair grabbed his backpack, got out of his car and headed toward the elevator. But after taking only a few steps, he heard the sound of a woman's voice--high, piercing, terrified--coming from somewhere nearby.

  "Please! Just leave me alone!"

  Blair turned in the direction of the voice. Ahead, he could see two people--a large man dragging a petite woman toward an idling car. Recognition flooded Sandburg--the woman was Hannah Merrick from the station's Records Department.

  "Hey!" he yelled, dropping his pack and sprinting toward her.

  "Blair!" she yelled, her voice tinged with desperation as she tried to escape her attacker.

  "Get your hands off her!" Blair shouted, skidding around a car, closing the distance between himself and the struggling pair.

  The man jerked toward his voice and Blair could see the fury etched in his features. His gaze flickered from Blair back to the woman he held in his grasp. "I'll see you soon," he growled menacingly at Hannah. Pushing her roughly to the cement floor, he slipped into his car and sped away, tires screeching the length of the garage as he drove toward the ramp that led up to the street in front of the station.

  Blair squinted after the car, trying to make out the license plate, but he was too far away and the garage was too dimly lit. Just as the car shot out of the garage, he came to a halt before Hannah. She had picked herself up from the garage floor and was leaning against the car behind her, sobbing into her hands.

  "Hannah?" Blair reached out and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right? Did you know that guy?"

  She shook her head, slowly lowering her hands away from her face. "Oh Blair," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm so embarrassed. I had no idea he'd ever follow me here, to work!"

  "Who was he?" Blair hadn't heard that the young clerk had ever been married, so he doubted the man was an ex-husband. Boyfriend? Soft-spoken and demure, Hannah had never struck him as the type that would go for an obviously abusive man like that. "Are you seeing him?"

  "No, no." She shook her head, her eyes wide, afraid. "I don't know him. I...I met him about three weeks ago at the park near my house. This time of year it's so cold that the park is almost always empty. I go there because I like the solitude." She dropped her gaze to floor of the garage. "He was there," she whispered. "I just talked to him, that's all. He seemed nice," she finished, her final words spoken so quietly that Blair had to strain to hear them.

  "Why was he here?"

  She swallowed hard, wiping at her eyes as a few more stray tears escaped. "Because he's been following me," she admitted softly. Looking up at Blair again, she bit at her trembling lower lip.

  "You mean since that day, he's been following you?"

  She nodded.

  "Hannah! Why didn't you tell someone?" Blair ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. "From what I just saw, that man was trying to abduct you."

  "I know," she choked out. "He came to my house last night and wanted me to let him in. I...I didn't, of course, but he followed me today and I don't know what to do about it."

  Blair stepped closer. "Hannah, listen to me. We need to go upstairs, find Jim and talk about this in an official capacity. You know that, right?"

  She nodded, still sniffling "I know." She wiped at her eyes again. "Thank you, Blair. For helping me like this."

  "It's all right," he said soothingly. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he began leading her toward the elevators, scooping up his backpack as he passed it. "I just wish you'd said something before this happened." He glanced back over his shoulder, making sure they were still alone. He'd seen--and recognized--the wildly unstable look in that man's eyes. And he knew that Hannah Merrick was in more trouble than she realized.

  /

  /

  /

  Jim Ellison sat at his desk flipping through the files on the Simmons case. He was looking for any similarities between the fire at the Simmons warehouse and the abandoned factory on Beacon Avenue that had burned down two weeks earlier. The two fires had to be connected--the same incendiary device had been used in both--but Jim had yet to find a link between them.

  He heard the elevator arrive and seconds later his guide's heartbeat reached him. But as he looked up, he was surprised to see Blair walking into the bullpen with his arm around Hannah Merrick. Jim frowned as he took in the clerk's red-rimmed eyes, her trembling lips. She's been crying.

  He pushed to his feet and crossed to them. "Hannah?" he said, stopping in front of her. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

  "Why don't we go into Simon's office," Blair suggested softly, nodding toward the captain's closed door.

  Jim moved beside Hannah. She slipped away from Blair and leaned into his side, crying openly. Jim wrapped an arm around her, holding her for a moment before leading her toward Simon's office. He glanced at his partner--saw the anger and frustration in his eyes. Blair gave him a knowing look, one that let Jim know he'd have the entire story just as soon as they were behind closed doors.

  Knocking once on the captain's door, Jim opened it and escorted Hannah inside the office. Blair followed, closing the door quietly behind him.

  "What's going on?" Simon asked, his concerned gaze on Hannah as Jim helped her into one of the chairs flanking the captain's desk.

  Jim perched on the edge of the desk, facing the distraught woman. "I'm not sure," he answered the captain. Looking up at Blair, who was standing near the conference table, Jim asked, "Sandburg, you want to explain this?"

  Blair nodded, then moved forward and took the seat beside Hannah, his gaze shifting from Jim to Simon and back again. "Hannah's been having a problem for the last few weeks..."

  Over the next few minutes, Blair told them about the man he'd witnessed assaulting Hannah in the garage. He added vague details about how the man had been bothering her for weeks, details Jim guessed Sandburg had learned after stopping the attack.

  Jim listened with close attention to his partner's report, but his gaze was on Hannah. The young clerk kept her eyes lowered, her hands clasped together tightly in her lap, and she shivered even though the room was warm. As Blair finished relaying what he knew, Jim rubbed at his temple. "Hannah," he said softly. "Why didn't you tell us this was going on? This man could have hurt you. Or worse."

  She shrugged one shoulder, not meeting his gaze. "I just...I thought you all would think it was my fault." She looked up at him then, her eyes pleading for un
derstanding. "After all, I did talk to him at that park."

  "That's right, you talked to him," Jim agreed gently. "But that's all you did. You didn't invite him to your home. You didn't tell him you wanted to see him again. You were just being friendly."

  "Jim's right, Hannah," Blair added. "The man who attacked you is the one at fault here. Not you."

  She looked at each man, some of the uncertainty leaving her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. "I feel so much better now that someone else is aware of what's going on."

  "Can you tell us anything more about this man?" Simon asked, leaning forward in his chair, his hands folded together before him on his desk. "Do you know his name? Address?"

  Hannah shook her head. "I don't know where he lives, but he did tell me his name was Phil."

  "No last name?" Blair asked.

  Again, she shook her head. "I'm sorry."

  "It's okay," Jim assured her. "We'll work up a composite drawing. Both you and Sandburg have seen him, so the sketch should be pretty accurate. Then we'll run the drawing through the computers to see if anything matches." Rising from his perch on the desk, Jim paced to the window and stared out across the city. Who is this guy? And what will his next move be? He didn't want to sit back and wait to find out.

  "Jim, what are you thinking?" Blair asked, his partner's question cutting through his thoughts.

  "I'm thinking that this guy is pretty bold." He turned to face the others again. "If he's willing to follow Hannah to the station and actually try to abduct her in the police garage, then there's no telling what he might do next." He glanced over at his captain. "I think she needs protection until we catch this guy."

  Simon nodded. "I agree."

  "Protection?" Hannah stared up at Jim, her eyes wide and unblinking. "What does that mean?"

  "It means," Blair explained from beside her, "That Jim and I are about to become your shadows." His gaze shifted to Simon. "That is, if you're assigning the case to us."

  "We're in the middle of the Simmons arson investigation," Jim reminded the captain.

  Simon waved a hand, dismissing the detective's concern. "I'll reassign the Simmons case to Brown and Rafe."

  "I don't want you to go to that trouble," Hannah interjected, her voice rushed. "I can just-"

  "It's no trouble," Simon cut in. "Your welfare takes precedence."

  She blushed slightly. "Thank you, Captain."

  As Jim stared down at the reserved woman seated next to his partner, he couldn't help but think about how close her assailant had actually come to abducting her. The man was bold...and dangerous. If it hadn't been for his partner's timing...

  Crossing to Hannah, he took her arm and gently pulled her to her feet. Gesturing toward the door, he said, "Why don't we get that composite drawing made. Maybe we'll get lucky and have this guy in custody before the end of the day."

  /

  /

  /

  Blair stared down at the composite picture of the man who had tried to abduct Hannah Merrick from the parking garage. He and Hannah had spent well over an hour with the department's graphic artist, who had guided them through questions regarding the man's features then made the corresponding changes on the screen of his computer. Blair felt they had come up with a fairly accurate sketch of Hannah's assailant. So far they hadn't been able to put a last name to his face, but the drawing had been circulated throughout the station. The man wouldn't get near Hannah again...at least not here.

  He looked up as Jim slid into the chair beside his desk. "What's up, Jim?"

  "I just came from Records. I was talking to Hannah about her house, about the possibility of her not going back there tonight."

  Blair nodded. "You want her to stay with us at the loft?"

  "I think it would be safer." Jim took the composite from Blair hands, his gaze turning coldly professional as he stared at it. "This creep knows where she lives. Not only that, she described her house to me--it's a ranch with an attached garage." He shook his head. "Too many easy entry points we can't watch."

  "She can have my room," Blair offered without hesitation. "I'll take the couch."

  "No, Sandburg, you don't have to give up your room. She can take mine. I'll-"

  "Jim," Blair cut in. "Besides the bathroom, my room is the only one with a door. She'll need her privacy. She'll take my room."

  "It'll only be a few nights," Jim assured him. "I plan to nail this guy fast." Handing the drawing back to his partner, he rose and headed toward the bullpen doors. "I'm going to run down to Records and let Hannah know. Pack up your stuff and let's get out of here. We'll meet you downstairs in five minutes."

  Blair nodded, pushing to his feet. He met Jim and Hannah in the parking garage a few minutes later. After a brief discussion, they decided to leave Blair's Volvo at the station. He would ride with Hannah in her car and Jim would follow the silver Escort in his truck. They planned to go to her house first so she could park her car and pack up what she'd need for the next few days, then they would all head back to the loft for the night.

  "I feel bad kicking you out of your room," Hannah said to Blair as she steered the compact car toward her house.

  "Believe me," Blair said, "I've slept in worse places than my own couch." He grinned over at her.

  "But you're both going to so much trouble."

  "Don't worry about it. We'll get your things, get you settled at the loft and then send out for some pizza or something. Doesn't sound like a lot of trouble to me."

  She glanced at him, obviously unconvinced. "At least let me cook dinner for you. I have all the fixings for beef stroganoff at my house. I could bring it with me."

  "You don't have to do that-"

  "I want to. Please," she pressed. "It'll make me feel better about taking your room."

  Blair shrugged one shoulder. "I have to admit that it would be nice to eat someone else's cooking for a change."

  "Then it's settled," she said happily. "Dinner is on me."

  They were quiet for several more miles. It was Hannah who once again broke the silence.

  "Do you believe in past and future lives, Blair?"

  Blair's eyes widened as he glanced at her. Hannah seemed an unlikely candidate for such open, unorthodox thinking. "Well, I'm open to a lot of different theories, but my Mom is a huge believer in the possibility of us living other lives. Why? Do you?"

  She took her eyes off the road long enough to glance over at him. "I've been fascinated with the idea for a long time. I guess the reason it's on my mind now is that I keep asking myself what I could have possibly done in some past life to deserve this man coming after me like this."

  "Hey," Blair said, holding up one hand. "Sometimes people are just bad at heart, Hannah. This guy coming after you has only one reason behind it--he's whacked." Reaching over, he patted softly at her arm. "But don't worry. We'll get him."

  She turned from the main road onto a side lane that led to a modest but well-kept neighborhood. Blair glanced in his sideview mirror--Jim's truck was right on the Escort's tail. Hannah weaved confidently through the streets, turning twice before pulling into the driveway of a well-kept ranch home. Reaching up, she pushed a button on the small device attached to her visor. Slowly, the garage door rose. She pulled in smoothly and hit the button again, closing the door behind them.

  Blair looked over his shoulder and chuckled. "You just shut Jim out."

  Hannah was already out of the car and heading toward the side door that led into the house. "Sorry," she called out as she crossed in front of her car. "Just habit. I'll hit the button by the back door."

  Blair smiled at her, then climbed out of the car to follow her into the house. But just as they reached the door, he heard a low whine from behind him. Instinctively, he ducked. The crowbar connected with the wall just above his head, sending up a thick dusting of plaster.

  Blair heard Hannah scream once, and then she shouted his name. "Get inside!" he yelled as the man who had been stalking Hannah raised the crowbar ag
ain.

  /

  /

  /

  "Sandburg!" Jim grabbed the handle of the garage door and pulled. It didn't budge. He'd heard Hannah's scream and his partner's shout for her to get inside. He knew they were both trapped in the garage with the man they'd spent the day trying to track down.

  His gaze darted left. Was there a back door into the garage? He looked right. Or should he just go in through the house? Before he could decide, the front door swung open and Hannah leaned out.

  "Jim! He's in the garage with Blair!"

  Jim pulled his weapon, ran to the door, sprinted past Hannah and through the house, then burst into the garage. Blair lay sprawled on the floor, one arm clutching his stomach, the other holding a can of royal blue spray paint. Jim crouched down beside him. "You all right?"

  "I'm fine." He lifted pain-filled eyes to Jim. "He went out the back door. Go after him."

  "Sandburg-"

  "I'm fine, Jim. Go!"

  The detective ran to the open door, but as he reached it he realized the attacker was long gone. He couldn't hear a heartbeat or breathing, not even a car engine. He extended his vision, but again found nothing.

  He turned to his partner, who was just beginning to sit up, grimacing as he moved. Jim walked to him, shoving his weapon into the holster at his back. "Take it easy there, Chief." He crouched down in front of Blair. Taking his arm, he helped him into an upright position on the floor.

  "Is he okay?" Hannah asked hesitantly, peering out from the house.

  "He's fine," Blair answered, glancing at her briefly before returning his gaze to his partner. "The guy hit me in the stomach with that crowbar." He nodded toward the discarded weapon just a few feet away. "Sent me flat on my back and knocked the wind out of me."

  "And what's with the blue paint?" Jim asked, indicating the can his partner still held.

  Blair raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the can. "He was going to hit me again and I was groping around for something to use to protect myself. I found this." He held up the can. "It was on the floor. I grabbed it, shook it, and aimed it right in his face. Did the trick, man. He dropped the crowbar and ran." He glanced back at Hannah. "Sorry, but some of the paint hit your car."