by Beth Manz
Bringing Blair to a halt in front of the middle-aged couple, Jim said, "Chief, I'd like you to meet Paul and Linda Keller."
Blair's eyes went wide at the mention of the Kellers' name. Jim smiled as he released Blair's arm and looked down at his friend--the delight on the young man's face was worth the entire evening. And judging from the smiles lighting up the Kellers' faces, they were obviously just as happy to see Blair. In fact, Sandburg didn't even have the opportunity to respond to the introduction before he was pulled into Linda Keller's embrace and kissed soundly.
The entire night had been filled with similar scenes--happy reunions and well wishes all around. Jim was sure his partner had been kissed by every woman in attendance at least twice and had been hugged soundly by all but the most reserved men. The party was, as Eli had hoped it would be, the perfect contrast to the wake they had held following Blair's funeral.
The thought of Blair's funeral sent an involuntary shiver across Jim. They'd stood there--friends and family--and buried Blair. And during all that time Grant had been with them, observing their pain, reveling in the upheaval he'd caused. Jim thought back to the afternoon he'd stood in Eli's study and Grant had approached him, offered him empty condolences and false sympathy. It must have made Grant happy to observe his pain, to spout platitudes while Jim suffered in front of him and Blair lay cuffed to a bed in a mental institution just a few short miles away.
Jim's jaw tightened at the thought of Marcus Grant, at the suffering he'd brought into their lives over the past year.
Grant won't ever get near Sandburg again.
As the promise he'd made to Abby came back to him, he shuddered slightly. Can I do that? Can I really keep Grant from getting to him? He'd made the same promise to Blair once...and had failed miserably. Would he fail again?
He didn't even know where to turn for help in finding Grant this time. Jack Kelso wasn't up to launching an investigation just yet and he knew the resources of the Cascade PD were limited, especially if Grant had fled the country. Simon had put out feelers with the feds, but thus far there wasn't even a hint of the where the doctor might be. Gerald Grant, loudly proclaiming his innocence in the entire situation, had boarded a plane for Paris the morning after Marcus's disappearance, claiming unexpected business had called him away for an indeterminate amount of time.
Jim shrugged off the dark thoughts and moved over the threshold into Blair's bedroom. He crouched down in front of his partner. Moonlight poured in through the window that overlooked the living area of the loft, bathing Sandburg in a soft glow. And for a brief, frightening moment, it seemed to Jim that Blair wasn't really there at all, that the moon-washed image before him was just that--an image, an illusion, the ghost of his best friend.
Gently, so as not to wake him, Jim reached out and touched Sandburg's hair, brushing it back from his face so he could see him more clearly. So he could feel him. He's not an illusion. He's real.
Alive. Real. And still very much a target for Marcus Grant.
The End
