Progression Series 14 Rest in Peace, Blair Sandburg Read online

  "Blair," Jim breathed, pulling Sandburg close and hugging him to his chest. His hands moved across Blair's hair and back, his senses confirming what he'd known since the wolf first appeared to him at the loft...that Blair was alive! He opened his mouth to speak, but instead he laughed out loud, laughed from the sheer joy of feeling his partner warm and alive beneath his touch. He's here, he's alive!

  "Jim," Blair rasped out after several seconds, reaching up to grasp weakly at Jim's wrist then squeezing hard to get his attention. "You have to...go after him. You...have to--"

  "Shhhh, we'll catch Collins soon enough," Jim assured him. He made no move to release his partner or to act on the urgency he'd heard in Sandburg's voice. "He won't get far," he added.

  "No...you don't understand.... He's not...Collins." He felt Blair shift away from him slightly, and he looked down to see his partner staring up at him with wide, determined eyes. "You don't understand," Blair told him again, the hand on his wrist tightening even more as if to emphasize the importance of what Blair was trying to tell him. "He's Grant, Jim. Ryan Collins...is Marcus Grant."

  "What!" Jim stared down at Sandburg as he tried to absorb the meaning of what Blair had just told him. That's impossible! Marcus Grant is dead! I saw him go over that bridge!

  "He survived the fall," Blair supplied as though he could sense Jim's unspoken argument. "He's been planning this...all along...."

  Jim exhaled a deep breath, still trying to wrap his mind around the unexpected news. The realization of who their adversary really was changed things--made it even more important that Collins...Grant...be apprehended before he could slip away and go into hiding again. But even with this new knowledge, Jim refused to leave Blair, to release the hold he had on his friend. Instead, he gathered him close again. "It's okay, Chief," he whispered. With one hand he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in Henri Brown's number. "We'll take care of Grant," he assured Blair as he listened to the call ring through. "Just relax."

  "Brown here," Henri answered.

  "Henri, you and Rafe at Crittendon yet?"

  "Just pulled up, man. What's goin' on?"

  Quickly, Jim gave Henri the information regarding Grant. "Get some uniforms out here and start combing the area. Find him!"

  "You got it, Jim."

  Jim disconnected the call and placed the phone on the floor beside him. Sighing out, he dropped his chin to the top of Blair's head. He drew Blair closer against him, so close he could feel the steady reverberation of Blair's heart thrumming in his chest. "Chief," he whispered, surprised at the brokenness of his own voice, "I'm so sorry we didn't find you sooner. We thought--"

  Sandburg's hand came up to rest against Jim's chest, bringing a halt to the sentinel's words. "I know. Grant...told me."

  "I swear to you, if I get my hands on that psycho, I'll kill him. I'll end this for good."

  Blair shook his head. "No, Jim. Don't say that." He pulled away from Jim just enough to look up into his eyes. "You do that and he wins, man." Blair leaned into Jim again, closing his eyes this time. "Henri and Rafe will find him. They'll find him and he won't hurt us again." He fell quiet then, obviously content to stay where he was for a while.

  Jim closed his own eyes and rested his cheek against the top of Blair's head. His partner was right about one thing--Marcus Grant would never hurt them again. Jim would make sure of that.

  "How did you find me?" Blair asked after a time, his voice soft.

  Jim smiled as he remembered the woman who had come to Dr. Stoddard. "There was a nurse--"

  "Abby?"

  Jim nodded. "She showed up at Eli's office and told us where you were."

  Blair shifted away then and gave Jim a warm smile. "She believed me. I didn't know if she would or not...." Shaking his head, he sat up and reached for the padded cuffs that still bound his ankles together.

  "I'll do that." Jim shifted in front of him, releasing the two cuffs from each other before working the buckles on each restraint. His jaw clenched tight as he tossed the padded cuffs aside.

  "So, Abby told you where I was? That's how you found me?"

  Jim nodded as he took Blair's left wrist and unlocked the buckle. He dropped the restraint on the floor before moving to his right wrist. "But even before she showed up, I knew you were alive."

  "You saw the wolf," Blair said softly. "Didn't you? You saw my vision of the wolf."

  "Yes," Jim answered, his gaze locking with Blair's. "And I knew, Chief. I knew you were alive. I just...I couldn't find you...." His voice faded, his attention returning to the cuff he was still working to remove, his hands trembling slightly now. "I just couldn't find you," he said again.

  As Jim removed the last padded cuff, he frowned at the bruises that circled Blair's wrists. It was obvious Sandburg had fought against his bonds--strenuously. "You had those things on the whole time you were here?"

  "Yeah, pretty much."

  The sentinel ran gentle fingers over the damaged skin, anger pulsing through him at the idea of Blair being tied down, held captive, for the last five days. Grant's going to pay for this, for all of it. When he looked up at Blair again, his gaze traveled over the younger man's throat. What he saw there only increased his rage. Harsh red marks stood out on Blair's skin where the sheet had cut into his neck. Jim reached out and traced along those lines with sensitive fingertips. "Your neck's gonna bruise up a bit, you know that, don't you?" he asked quietly.

  Blair offered him a crooked smile. "That's okay. Beats the alternative."

  Jim ran his fingers gently across Sandburg's hair, then allowed his hand to linger on Blair's shoulder. "It sure does."

  "Hey," Blair whispered, moving forward, closing the small gap between them, "Are you okay?"

  A soft smile pulled up the corners of Jim's mouth. Lifting his hand from Blair's shoulder, he placed his palm against the younger man's cheek, cupping it gently. "I've never been better." He looked around the room for a moment, then back at Blair. "This place gives me the creeps. You ready to get out of here?"

  "You have no idea how ready."

  Jim stood and, reaching down, carefully pulled Blair to his feet. Slipping an arm around his waist, lending him his strength, he moved Sandburg toward the exit. But before they could take two steps, the door to the room burst open. Eli Stoddard stumbled inside, his gaze darting around the room, finally landing on.... "Blair!"

  "Hi, Professor."

  Stoddard stood still, an incredulous look on his face, then he crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips in feigned annoyance. His gaze shifted to Jim. "I rush in here after thinking he's been dead for the last five days and what does he say to me? 'Hi, Professor.'" He grinned at Blair's answering chuckle, but the smile quickly faded as he took in the sight of the noose still dangling from the bars of the window behind them. He looked back at Jim and Blair. "Collins didn't--"

  "He tried to. He wanted it to look like a suicide. But Jim got here in time to stop him."

  Eli stepped closer and, reaching out, touched gently at his bruised neck. "Not quite soon enough by the looks of it."

  "I'm okay, Professor," Blair assured him. "I'm really--"

  But the rest of his words were cut off as Eli pulled Blair forward and embraced him. "We thought we lost you," he whispered close to Blair's ear.

  Jim swallowed hard past the sudden restriction in his throat. He looked on silently as Eli Stoddard held his partner, the older man's relief almost palpable.

  "I'm fine," Blair said softly, his cheek resting against Eli's shoulder. "Everything's going to be fine now."

  Eli nodded and, shifting away from Blair, held him at arms length, smiling broadly. "Well then, why don't we get you home."

  "After we stop at the hospital and have him checked over," Jim added.

  Moments later, Blair was sandwiched between Jim and Eli, being led toward the elevator that would take them to the ground floor.

  "Jim," Sandburg said a few minutes later, looking up at the sentinel as they ex
ited the elevator and made their way toward the lobby, "You didn't give all my stuff away, did you?"

  Jim looked down at him, offering his most serious expression, and said, "Well, not all of it. Only the Volvo."

  Before Blair could respond to his ribbing, the attention of all three men was drawn to a deep, bellowing voice demanding to know where they were keeping Major Crime's Police Consultant, Blair Sandburg. As they rounded the corner, Simon turned toward them, his scowling gaze locking first on Jim, then softening as it fell on Blair. Slowly, the captain approached them.

  "Hey, Simon," Blair said, staring up at the captain.

  Simon smiled down at him, his eyes conveying relief and warmth. "Sandburg." There was a long pause before Simon added, "We missed you, kid."

  "I told you he wasn't dead," Jim reminded the disbelieving captain.

  Simon's gaze flicked briefly to Jim. "Yeah, well, next time I'll believe you."

  Jim looked down to see Blair staring up at him, eyes wide. "Next time?" the two men queried in unison.

  And before they could say anything more, Simon moved forward and pulled Blair into a gruff hug.

  "Why, Simon, you old softie," Jim teased, laughing at the sight of the normally unflappable captain openly embracing Blair.

  But Simon made no move to release Sandburg. "Shut up, Detective," he told Jim. "If I feel like hugging my police consultant, I'll hug my police consultant."

  Epilogue

  Blair buttoned his shirt closed and tucked it into his jeans. He could hear Jim moving around in the room above his own, getting dressed for the party they were attending later that evening. Blair smiled as he thought about the festivities ahead. He hadn't expected a "welcome back" celebration, but Eli had insisted. In fact, Dr. Stoddard had not only insisted upon having the party, but he'd also been adamant about hosting it at his house.

  "Let me do this, Blair. It will replace the bad memories of the wake we held for you last week."

  Blair shook his head as he thought about the professor's explanation. The idea of his actually having had a wake, a funeral--well, it all seemed so unreal to him. Yet Naomi and all his friends had believed he was dead, had experienced the funeral and the accompanying grief. So maybe Eli was right--maybe this party was the only way to truly put the unpleasant memories and the pain behind them.

  A knock sounded on the door just as Blair was stepping out of his room. "I'll get it," he called out, pushing at the unease that welled up within him at the sound of the knock. It isn't Grant knocking on the front door, Sandburg, he chided himself. You've got to stop jumping at every little sound. Walking toward the front door, he couldn't help but notice that Jim made no move to step away from the railing of his room above. He stood sentry, watching Blair as he made his way across the loft. "It's okay, Jim," he assured his friend, "I got it."

  Jim nodded but still didn't back away from the railing...and Blair suddenly knew why. He wants to know who's on the other side of our door, too. He's worried. It was so "Jim," and Blair supposed he shouldn't be all that surprised that Jim was monitoring whoever was at the door--after all, in the two days that Blair had been home, his partner had hardly let him out of his sight.

  Blair pulled the door wide, a smile lighting his features at the sight of the person standing in the hallway. "Abby!"

  "Hello, Dav...I mean, Blair," she corrected, catching herself quickly. She offered him an apologetic smile. "It's hard for me to get used to the change."

  Blair smiled and dismissed her concern with the wave of a hand. "Don't worry. It's okay." He moved back, allowing her room to step past him. "Please, come in."

  She strolled into the loft, her gaze shifting around the room before settling on Blair again. "You look good."

  "Thank you. I feel good."

  "No reactions from the drugs, I hope."

  Blair shook his head. "None." Remembering his manners, he gestured toward the living room. "Abby, please sit down...."

  But the elderly woman shook her head. "Oh, I can't stay. I...I just stopped by to tell you good-bye."

  "Good-bye? You're leaving Cascade?"

  "I'm retiring," she answered with a smile. "Going to live with my sister in Florida." Her gaze shifted from Blair's face to his neck and she stepped forward. Reaching out, she touched at the bruising with practiced, gentle hands. "Did you get this checked out, honey?"

  "Yes, I'm fine. Got a clean bill of health from my doctor."

  "That's good." She stepped back and looked around her again. "This place is nice." She moved past Blair, toward the living area, her hand skimming over the back of the couch, touching the throw there. She stopped before the array of photos that adorned the corner table between the couches, leaning down to the look at them.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Blair saw Jim descending the stairs. He looked toward his partner. Jim raised an eyebrow in question as Abby continued to walk around the living area, looking at their things. Blair shrugged one shoulder, turning his attention back to Abby. She was near the windows now, studying a Kenyan mask that hung on the brick wall near the wood stove.

  Jim came to stand beside Blair. Casually draping his around his partner's shoulder, he asked, "Is everything okay, Chief?"

  Abby turned at the sound of his voice. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, suddenly realizing what she had been doing. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "I'm sure I must seem awfully nosy to you." She looked at Blair. "It's just that when you were my patient, the background Collins gave you.... Well, I just felt so sorry for you, having no one. I guess that being here, seeing your home...." She glanced briefly at Jim, smiling, then back at Blair. "Well, it just makes me happy to know you really aren't David Jacobs."

  Blair gave her a pleased smile. "Thank you, Abby. And thank you for believing me. I know you took a risk going to Dr. Stoddard."

  "Nonsense. I only wish I'd believed you sooner. Maybe that horrid doctor would be in custody instead of out there running around loose."

  "We'll catch Dr. Grant. And don't you worry," Jim assured her, "he won't ever get near Sandburg again.

  She shook her head morosely then roused herself, offering a half-hearted smile. "Well, I have to be going."

  "Wait, Abby," Blair said, moving forward and taking her hand. "We're going to a party tonight. Sort of a welcome back thing." He looked at Jim, saw agreement in his partner's eyes, then turned to the nurse again. "Why don't you come with us?"

  "Oh, no, I can't," Abby apologized. "I really I need to go. My flight leaves tomorrow morning and I still have packing to do."

  "You're leaving that soon?" Disappointment rippled through Blair. "I was hoping my mom could meet you. But she's not arriving until tomorrow afternoon."

  Abby smiled. "I bet she was happy to hear from you."

  Blair laughed. "That's an understatement. I don't think I've ever heard her cry as hard as she did when she heard my voice on the phone."

  "I can only imagine." Withdrawing her hand from his, Abby reached up and touched his cheek. "Good-bye, Blair. I'm so happy I got to know you. I only wish the circumstances could have been more pleasant."

  "I know," Blair said.

  Dropping her hand from Blair's face, Abby turned to Jim, tilting her head to one side as if studying him. "Good-bye, Detective. You take care of Blair for me, won't you?"

  Jim smiled, then laughed at the flush of pleased embarrassment Blair could feel creeping across his face. "I'll do my best," his friend promised the elderly nurse, "but I have to tell you it's a full-time job."

  "Ah, but the benefits must be worth it," Abby teased in return.

  And Blair caught the warm look Jim gave him, affection evident in his friend's deep blue eyes. "The benefits are definitely worth it," he agreed.

  The two men escorted Abby to the elevator, offered their final good-byes, then stepped back into the loft. Picking Jim's keys out of the basket by the door, Blair tossed them to his friend. "Okay, man, you ready to go? I don't want to be late for my own party."

  "Rela
x, Sandburg," Jim groused good-naturedly. "We have plenty of time yet. Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about before we left."

  Blair became serious, worried. He stepped up to Jim. "What? What's wrong?"

  Jim chuckled and placed his hands on Blair's shoulders. "Nothing's wrong, Chief. I just wanted you to know my lawyer called me earlier. He filed the deed papers today, so it's official...." Jim looked around the loft, then back at Blair. "You are now half-owner of this palatial estate."

  "Oh, wow," Blair said. "That is so cool." He smiled up his friend. "It's sort of like being landed gentry," he stated mischievously. "I feel so...so...noble."

  Jim snorted and dropped his hands from Blair's shoulders. Squinting down at him, he warned, "Yeah? Well, just don't forget, Prince Charming--even nobility doesn't get to leave their dirty socks on the royal bathroom floor."

  /

  /

  /

  Jim Ellison walked through the quiet loft, moonlight spilling across the floor at his feet. He'd checked the front door, the fire escape, the balcony doors. All were locked. The loft was secure. Yet even with all the safeguards in place, Jim didn't feel comfortable going up to his room...leaving Blair on the first floor alone.

  Get a grip, Ellison. The kid is fine. But the words did nothing to ease the worry tightening his stomach.

  Crossing to Sandburg's room, Jim looked inside. Blair lay on his side, his arm hanging over the side of the bed. His breathing was deep and even. He's exhausted. And he had every right to be. He'd spent the entire evening at Eli's, talking non-stop to just about everyone he had ever met. The party had been great, but it had also been draining.

  Jim grinned as he thought back to his favorite part of the entire evening....

  "Hey, Chief," he said, coming up behind his partner, who was chatting animatedly with a young blonde woman Jim had never seen before. Offering an apology for the interruption, Jim grasped Blair's arm and pulled him toward two people standing near the study doors. "There are a couple of people here I want you to meet," he whispered. "Well, actually, you've already met them, but I don't think you remember it."