by Beth Manz
"And you don't think he deserves to go to jail for what he did?"
"I'm not saying that, Jim." He paused, looking down at his hands. "I just think," he continued softly, looking over at Jim again, "That what Cal really needs is to do his time and still be young enough when he gets out to accomplish something with what's left of his life."
Jim shook his head. "Do you really think he would do that?" he asked. "Accomplish anything good with his life, I mean?"
Blair shrugged. "I think he should at least have a chance."
"So," he spoke softly. "Your mind is made up, then? You're not going after this guy?"
"No, I'm not," he said thoughtfully. "Don't get me wrong, Jim--a part of me is still angry because he tried to kill me; part of me wants to get even. But... well, there's this other part of me that knows if I give into that anger, then I'm the one who'll end up changing. And that change won't be for the better." He smiled softly at his friend, raising his eyebrows and shrugging one shoulder. "I just don't want anger and revenge to rule my life."
Blair gave him another soft smile, then stood. The young man stretched his arms above his head, then leaned down to tap Jim lightly against the leg. "It's late. I'm going to bed, man."
Jim caught at his friend's hand, holding it firmly within his own. Looking up, he asked, "Are you going to be all right with all of this, Blair?"
Blair squeezed his hand and nodded. "I already am. There comes a time when you just have to let some things go." Gently, Blair withdrew his hand from Jim's and straightened. "I'll see you in the morning."
"In the morning, Chief," Jim responded warmly, watching Blair as he crossed the loft and disappeared into his bedroom.
Ellison closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the wind and the rain pounding against the glass doors. A smile touched at his lips as he thought about what Blair had said. He'd have gone after Cal in a heartbeat--would have practically begged the regional DA for the opportunity to testify.
But not Blair. The kid doesn't have a vengeful bone in his body.
He shook his head in fond confusion. His friend's wisdom and centeredness never ceased to amaze him. Jim knew that most of their acquaintances believed that it was Jim--former Army captain and covert operative, seasoned detective--who had seen more than his fill of inhumanity, death, hatred, and disappointment, and who had been wizened because of the things he'd encountered in his life. But it never seemed to fail that it was Blair, not Jim, who turned out to be the wiser of the two. Open, trusting, always willing to see the good in humankind, Blair possessed wisdom beyond his years and a quality of spirit that Jim had never encountered in any other individual he had ever known.
The ringing of the telephone startled the detective, rousing him from his thoughts. Pushing up from the sofa, he moved quickly to the phone and picked up the receiver. "Ellison," he spoke softly, mindful that Blair had gone to bed, hoping the sound of the ringing hadn't disturbed him.
"Jim," an equally soft voice came across the line, "It's Jack Kelso."
Grant! Maybe they've found him. Jim glanced across at his partner's room, took in the sight of the darkened room, the French doors standing slightly ajar. "Yeah," he said quietly. "What's up?"
"I have a new lead on Marcus Grant. It appears he's gone back to Italy, but I'm not sure exactly where. There are two areas that look promising and I have a couple of men in place who are willing to go in and see if they can locate him." Jack paused briefly, then said, "All you have to do is say the word, Jim. It's your call."
Jim considered the news, weighed the options for his next move. And as he stood there, Sandburg's earlier words came back to him: "I just don't want anger and revenge to rule my life..."
But Grant had tried to kill his friend! His anger and revenge toward the psychiatrist were serving a purpose--they were going to bring Grant home to stand trial! "There comes a time when you just have to let some things go."
And in that moment, Jim knew that what Blair wished for himself, he would wish even more fervently for Jim. He sighed, then accepted his decision. That done, he spoke quietly into the phone: "It's over, Jack. Pull your men out."
There were a few seconds of stunned silence at the other end of the line, then Kelso's voice came to him again: "Are you sure this is what you want to do, Jim?"
Again, Jim turned his attention to Blair's room, opening his hearing until Blair's heartbeat reached him across the short distance--soft, relaxed, at peace. "Yes," he answered quietly after a few moments, "I'm sure. There comes a time, Jack, when you just have to let some things go."
The End
