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  "A time limit? Like he'd give you an hour to find the stuff?"

  Jim shook his head. "It was never that specific. The time limit was always different and Eddie never gave it to me. It was all in his head."

  "So what would happen when your time was up?" Blair asked with more than a little hesitation in his voice.

  "He would bury whatever it was he took from me. He started ruining a bunch of my stuff that way so I told Eddie I wasn't going to play any more. But that didn't stop him," Jim said quietly. "One day, after I was really forceful with him, he got mad and stole the neighbor kid's dog. The thing was old as hell. All us kid's kind of watched out for it and Eddie knew that. I think that's why he chose him. Because he knew I'd play then."

  "So what happened?" Blair prompted.

  "I found the dog, but evidently not within Eddie's time limit," Jim answered, cringing inwardly as memories of that day played vividly across his mind. "It had been buried, Chief, just like the other stuff I hadn't found."

  "Buried?" Blair repeated incredulously. "He buried the dog? Oh, man, that is sick."

  "Yeah. The dog was too weak to dig itself out and it suffocated. That's when I knew Eddie had gone too far. I told my dad and we went together to see Eddie's father. Eddie wasn't home and the three of us had to search the neighborhood for him. We thought he was just off hiding somewhere, you know? Scared of what would happen once the dog was discovered. But instead, we found him in the woods behind a vacant field near our house." Jim paused and looked at Blair. "Stephen was with him, Chief. When we caught up to them and my dad asked Eddie what he thought he was doing, he told us that he was just 'taking' Stephen. That he was only playing, that he only wanted to hide him."

  Blair took a deep breath and thought about what Jim had told him. "That certainly explains why you felt like you needed to talk with Stephen yesterday. If these memories of Eddie were trying to manifest themselves at the crime scene, then maybe your subconscious picked up on the fact that Stephen had been in danger when Eddie lived in your neighborhood."

  Jim clenched his jaw. "Or that he's in danger now. But Stephen was fine when I talked with him last night. I don't get it." He reached up and rubbed at his face in frustration.

  "Just because Stephen is fine now doesn't mean this isn't some sort of warning," Blair said, trying to reason out what was happening to his friend. "We can't ignore what's happening here, Jim. These memories are surfacing now for some reason." Blair shifted against the couch, then continued, "Tell me more about what happened then, after you found Eddie and Stephen."

  "There isn't a lot more to tell. It was just really strange because Eddie acted like it was normal to take off with a neighborhood kid and try to hide him."

  "Hide him," Blair repeated softly, "Jim, do you think Eddie would have done the same thing to Stephen that he did to that dog? Do you think he would have tried to bury him eventually?"

  "I don't know. But at that moment Eddie's dad realized that his son had a problem. He was shipped off after that. Not a lot was ever said, but all of a sudden he wasn't at school anymore. All the kids knew that Eddie had been taken to some hospital somewhere but none of us had any real details. In time, Eddie's parents moved away and we all forgot about him."

  "Wow," Blair said absently, processing the things Jim had just told him. "That's bizarre." He bit at his lip, thinking, then brought his attention back to Jim. "You said you had a dream last night. And that it somehow ties into these memories about Eddie."

  Jim nodded. "In my dream I was a kid again," he began. "I was out in the middle of a field at night, digging for something. I didn't know what I was searching for, only that I had to be there, had to find something. Then I unearthed... I unearthed a body. It was someone I knew, only I couldn't remember who it was when I woke up. But the whole nightmare was just too much like what I experienced all those years ago with Eddie. And now this whole thing about my missing watch and CD? I don't know, Chief... All of these things are too close together to be coincidental."

  Jim looked at Sandburg steadily. "Blair, I think Eddie's been here, inside the loft. I think he took my watch and my CD, and I think that's what started this whole thing."

  "You think maybe you sensed his presence on some level?"

  "Yes, I do. You said my senses were working even when I was a kid--maybe I sensed Eddie when he was in the loft, and that triggered the memories. And the nightmare." Jim smiled suddenly as he thought about what he had just said.

  "What?" Blair asked.

  Jim chuckled. "Nothing. I was just thinking that I'm beginning to sound way too much like you, Chief."

  "Which would explain why what you said made so much sense," Blair said, grinning slightly. But the grin quickly gave way to a frown as he returned to the subject at hand: "Jim, I think that your sensing Eddie not only triggered your memories and showed up in your dream, but I think it also triggered your protective instincts."

  "Which is why I felt like I had to talk with Stephen."

  "Exactly," Blair agreed. He sat silently, processing the facts Jim had given him. Finally, he said, "All right, I think the first thing we need to do is locate this Eddie. Do you know what happened to him? Or where he is now?"

  "I never saw him after that day in the woods. I can run a routine background on his parents this afternoon, see if I can come up with a current address on them."

  "Okay, okay, that's good. And let me do some checking as well. You're going to be in court until at least noon, right?"

  Jim nodded.

  "I have to be at the university for a staff meeting this afternoon, so why don't I go on over to the campus this morning and see what I can find out."

  Jim frowned in confusion. "What could you find out at the university?"

  "I'll start by talking to the head of the Psych Department, Professor Wheeler. Before he went into teaching he had his own counseling practice and he did a lot of work with institutionalized young people. And there aren't that many institutions in the area. I'm assuming Eddie was hospitalized somewhere in the state and if that's so, then it's possible that Dr. Wheeler may even be familiar with his case." Blair paused briefly and arched one eyebrow. "You know, I could also check the university's mainframe computer. If Eddie has ever been studied, chances are there's research material posted on him. His name won't be used, of course, but his particular case doesn't exactly sound run of the mill. If research work has been posted on his case, it would be pretty easy to find."

  Jim stared at his friend, amazed at the resources available to the grad student. "Chief, are you telling me that if a scientist or professor studies someone and posts the findings, you can access it from the university?"

  Blair shrugged. "Absolutely. Once research material has been published it becomes property of the public domain and the listing of the journal it's posted in appears on a psych database. Scientific and psychological studies from around the world are posted for research and informational purposes. Believe me, if Eddie's been studied and his researcher published his findings, then he's out there." Blair smiled a conspiratorial little smile and waggled his eyebrows. "Let's face it, Jim. Scientists are much too egotistical to keep their findings secret for very long, especially when those findings are centered around a case as unusual as Eddie's.

  Jim blinked his eyes slowly, thinking of the implications of what Blair had just told him. "Well, that's pretty frightening," he said at last.

  Blair laughed, obviously surprised at Jim's reaction regarding the material available on the research databases. "It's no worse than the databases the police department uses, Jim."

  "Police databases don't provide information about sentinels, Sandburg," he replied quietly.

  Blair opened his mouth in surprise as he grasped the connection Jim was making. "Oh," he drawled out slowly. "I see where you're going with this." Becoming serious, he shook his head and reached over to touch Jim lightly on the arm. "Hey, you have absolutely nothing to worry about, Jim. Your observer has never loaded one single
word about you onto any mainframe." Blair paused, then smiled over at his friend. "Relax, man. Everything I have on you is either locked away or is so well encrypted that not even Jack Kelso could figure out how to get to it."

  Jim shot him a sideways look. "Well, gee, that makes me feel so much better," he intoned dryly.

  Blair chuckled. "I thought it would." He squeezed Jim's arm and looked over at him steadily. "I'm telling you, Jim, no one is going to find out about you until we're ready for them to find out."

  Jim raised his eyebrows. "We?"

  "Yes, we. After all, this is a team effort." Blair smiled. "So, you trust me, don't you?"

  Jim reached up to whack Blair on the back of his head. "That was never a question, Chief. I was just a bit surprised to find out how easy it is to access research material. That's all."

  "I knew that," Blair laughed. "But if anyone wants to find anything I've written on sentinels, all they'll find are a few papers I published long before I ever found you. I've got you covered, man," he assured Jim. "You are still the world's best-kept secret."

  Blair pushed himself off the couch, catching his breath at the pain the movement caused. He caught Jim's look of concern, but ignored it. Looking down at his partner, he said, "I'm going to get ready and go on over to the U. I'll call you later to let you know what I find out."

  Jim nodded then stood. "Chief," he said, pointing his finger at Blair. "I want you take it easy today. Don't overdo it."

  Blair smiled up at him. "I'll go slow, Jim. Not that I have much choice in the matter."

  Reaching out, Jim grasped Blair's shoulders and looked down at his best friend. "One other thing. Until we know where Eddie is and what he's up to, I want you to be careful, all right? You watch yourself."

  Blair nodded his agreement, and Jim dropped his hands from his shoulders.

  "And thanks for your help on this, Chief," Jim added, smiling. "I appreciate it."

  Blair flashed him a brilliant smile in return. "Glad to do it, Jim. And believe me, if Eddie Rostin is out there, we'll find him."

  /

  /

  Jim glanced at the clock... again. He'd been back from court for nearly two hours but Blair had yet to call. He had hoped that when he returned to the station he would find a message from Sandburg telling him when he'd be there. Or better yet, his partner himself. But there had been nothing.

  Jim had called Stephen again that morning, talking to his brother for nearly an hour about Eddie and the fact that he could be back in their lives again. He closed his eyes, letting out a long breath as he thought about that conversation and remembered the anxiety in his brother's voice when he asked Jim what he should do.

  "Just be careful, Stephen. Right now, I'm not even sure if I'm right about all this. But until I know, I don't want you taking any chances."

  Jim glanced at the phone, resisting the urge to call his brother again to make sure he was still safe. But even as he reached for the phone, it rang. He snatched it up before it could ring a second time. "Ellison."

  "Hey man, how'd it go in court?"

  Jim smiled as Blair's voice came across the line. "Boring," he replied. "I sat around most of the morning until they called me. Then after I'd only answered three questions, the lawyers got into some argument and I was dismissed. I think the case might get thrown out."

  "That's too bad." Blair's voice sounded tinny and Jim realized he was calling from his car, using his cell phone. "Any news on the Rostins?"

  Jim sighed and rubbed his hand across his eyes. "I did a preliminary check when I got back from the courthouse. I found them. Turns out Mr. Rostin wasn't Eddie's biological father. He kept referring to Eddie as his 'wife's crazy kid' and he told me how much better everything was for the family after Eddie was institutionalized."

  "The guy sounds like a real gem, doesn't he?"

  "Oh, yeah. But that wasn't the worst part. He also told me that not only did he not know where Eddie was, but that he didn't want to know. The Rostins had Eddie declared a ward of the state when he was first institutionalized. They basically washed their hands of him. I've put a call into the DHS, requesting information on Eddie's location, but I haven't heard back from them yet."

  "Don't worry about it, Jim. I think I have the information we're going to need."

  Jim straightened in his seat. "What'd you find out?"

  "A lot, actually. Eddie Rostin was easy to track down. He wasn't--"

  "Wait. You tracked him down? You know where he is?"

  "No, not exactly. I know where he was."

  Jim let out an exasperated breath. "What is that supposed to mean, Sandburg?"

  "It means that Eddie Rostin was in an institution until about two weeks ago. But no one's seen him since he was released."

  "Great," Jim muttered, running a hand over his hair. "So he could have been in the loft."

  "Yeah, it looks that way." He paused and Jim could hear a rustle of papers, a mutter of frustration.

  He could picture his guide in his car, glasses perched on his nose, the passenger seat filled with books and papers. "Sandburg, what are you doing?"

  "I'm looking for my notes."

  Jim heard more rustling, more muttering. "I thought you were driving your car."

  "Jim, some of us can do more than one thing at the same time. Here, wait, I found it." There was more rustling of paper. "Okay, I talked to Dr. Wheeler first. We caught a lucky break there. He recognized the case right away. Seems he even met Rostin years ago."

  "Met him?"

  "Yeah, just once. I told you Dr. Wheeler used to work with institutionalized children. Well, at one point, he was called in to consult on Rostin's case. It was just for a short period of time but he remembers him, I think because the case was so unique."

  Jim leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the pencils on his desk. "What did he remember about him?"

  "He said that when he met Rostin, the guy had already been in the institution for three years. Yet, he was still consumed by the game he used to play with a childhood friend named Jimmy. It was all he talked about, all he cared about."

  "After three years?" Jim's hand tightened around the receiver he was holding. "Sandburg, are you sure?"

  "Yeah, man, I'm telling you, Dr. Wheeler remembers Rostin because he was so obsessed. More than anything, he wanted to finish that game he started with you so long ago."

  "But if they released him, he must have been over that obsession, right? I mean, they wouldn't let him out if he were still..." His voice trailed off. Jim wasn't sure how to end that sentence. Was Eddie sick? Homicidal? Or just confused?

  "That's the thing, Jim," Blair said, his voice growing more and more excited as he revealed each new bit of information he'd been able to uncover. "Rostin's only been on the road to recovery for the last year. Before then, the game was everything to him. He talked about it non-stop."

  "So what happened a year ago?"

  "This hotshot new doctor came on the scene." More papers were rustled. "Dr. Marcus Grant," he read. "Apparently, this guy came to work in the ward and everything changed. Suddenly Rostin was a model patient, telling everyone that he now realized how wrong he'd been, how he'd wasted his life and just wanted to put everything behind him. Everyone saw Dr. Grant as some sort of miracle worker."

  "How'd you find out all this, Sandburg?"

  "Dr. Wheeler was able to track down the institution where Rostin's been living the last twelve years. It was just outside of Cascade so I drove out there. I was hoping to talk to Dr. Grant himself, but he wasn't there. But I did find a nurse who was really cooperative."

  "A nurse." Jim repeated dryly, a smile pulling up one corner of his mouth. "Did you get her phone number, too, Romeo?"

  Blair chuckled softly. "Hey, man, I've got to have some compensation for all this work."

  Jim shook his head. The kid was incorrigible. "So what does all this add up to?"

  "Well, I passed all this information on to Dr. Wheeler. He thinks that Eddie may have been
playing with this new doctor, saying what the man wanted to hear so that he could get out of the institution and finally finish the game. That he realized as long as he talked about it, he wasn't going to be able to play it."

  "So he played another game instead," Jim reasoned.

  "Exactly. Pretend to be over the game in order to get out. Then once he's out, according to Dr. Wheeler, Rostin's first order of business would be to finish that game with you."

  Jim closed his eyes. "Then I was right. He was in the loft. He took my CD and my watch."

  "It looks that way," Blair agreed, his voice low, apologetic.

  "But that still doesn't explain why I zoned at the crime scene."

  "I've been thinking about that, Jim. We know Rostin probably was in the loft. So he's probably also stalking you. I think it's possible that he was at the crime scene yesterday, and that you reacted the way you did because his presence registered in some subconscious part of your brain. Remember what I said about you recognizing different scents associated with people? We can sit down tonight and track back through your memory and see if we can pick that up. I'd guess, though, that Eddie is already in game playing mode. He's on you, man."

  "Great," Jim muttered. "This is just great. So what happens now?"

  "Dr. Wheeler said that what Rostin will want to do is make the game important to you. Right now, he knows it's not. So he'll probably choose something or someone that would force you to play with him again. Which means you definitely need to call Stephen and fill him in on all this. It's very possible he could be the this guy's next target."

  Nervousness tightened Jim's gut as Blair's words settled over him. "That's what Dr. Wheeler said? That Stephen would be his target?" There was no answer on the other end of the line. Jim's brow furrowed. "Sandburg?" he said when the silence went on too long. "Is that what he said?"