by Carol Roi
Jim sighed. It was like pulling teeth to get anything out of Agent Scully. "No, I'm not saying that. I'm just asking for a little background on those cases. How was Dr. Pallas involved? Was she ever considered a suspect?"
Scully's suspicions were confirmed. Ellison was just fishing for something he could use against Dee. Well, she wasn't about to give him that satisfaction. "I'm sorry, I can't comment on cases that are currently open. Now if there is nothing further you'd like to ask me, I have work I need to get back to."
There were a hell of a lot of things Jim wanted to ask her, but he knew she wasn't going give him the answers he wanted. "No, I have nothing else. Thank you for your time and cooperation," he said, his sarcasm barely veiled.
"I always believe in helping out the local law enforcement whenever I can, Detective Ellison." Satisfied with the way the conversation had ended, Scully hung up the phone. "Just wait 'til Mulder finds out you've been sniffing around about Dee, Detective," she thought. "You'll be sorry you ever heard her name."
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Leaning back in his desk chair, Jim rubbed his temples. He was getting one hell of a headache. Who could have known that a simple background check could turn into such a hassle? Now he had an FBI agent giving him the runaround. He glanced through the info he had already gathered on Diandra. He would try a different tact. The DMV info had given her last address before Cascade as Seacouver. He would see what he could find out from her neighbors there. He looked up the phone numbers for the building she had lived in there, and called the first one on the list.
A man answered the phone. "DeSalvo's Dojo, MacLeod speaking."
Once again, Jim introduced himself, then said, "I'm trying to find out some information on a former tenant in your building, Diandra Pallas."
Immediately, Jim could feel the other man's tension through the wire. His heart rate picked up slightly, but nowhere near what Agent Scully's had. "Is Diandra in some kind of trouble, Detective?" the man asked, his voice even.
"No, she was a witness to a crime. I'm just trying to get some background on her."
"I suggest you speak to Diandra about that. Anything she wants you to know, she'll tell you. She's pretty reasonable that way," MacLeod replied, his sarcasm not lost on Jim. There was a click as he hung up the phone.
Ellison slammed the receiver down, muttering curses under his breath. Simon, who happened to be passing by, stopped to find out what had his best detective so upset. "What's wrong, Jim?" he asked.
"Just this check I've been running on Diandra Pallas, Simon. I'm being stonewalled."
Crossing his arms over his chest, Banks leaned against the corner of Jim's desk. "I warned you that might happen when dealing with the military."
Jim shook his head. "That isn't the problem. As far as I can tell, she's never been in any country's armed forces. But she seems to have a readily available cash flow, never stays in one place for very long, and was somehow involved, at least peripherally, with two murders in DC. Of course I can't prove any of this leads to anything criminal, but I can't dismiss what my gut is telling me, Simon. She's bad news."
"Jim, you don't have to convince me. After your behavior on the Barnes case, I'm not going to question your instincts. If you say she's trouble, she's trouble. But until you have something solid to pin on her, I suggest you keep your gut reaction to yourself. All the department needs is another civilian accusing us of harassment."
"Don't worry, Simon, I'm being as discreet as possible. And the way things are going, I'll have it all wrapped up today. What I'll have to show for my efforts will probably be a whole lot of nothing, but at least my conscience will be clear when something does happen." Shaking his head, Simon rose and headed toward his office.
Jim got up from his desk, and went to the break room for a cup of coffee. When he returned to his desk, he had decided on a course of action. First, he would call the FBI again, and see if he could talk to Agent Mulder, then he would take a run up to Seacouver, and speak with Diandra's old neighbors in person.
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"See you later," Blair said to Dee, as they parted company in the hallway. "Thanks for lunch."
"Thanks for the help," she replied. "Think about my offer to train you. The sooner you make a decision, the sooner we can get started." She gave him a reassuring smile. "And I'll try and find my old dissertation and research materials for you." Unlocking the door to 308, she let herself in.
Blair entered the loft and tossed his keys in the basket next to the door, then headed into his room to drop off his backpack. Entering the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, and pressed play on the answering machine. There was one message, from Jim, telling Blair he had to run to Seacouver to follow up a lead. He expected to be back that night, but Blair shouldn't count on him for dinner.
Okay, Blair thought, he could use this time alone to his advantage. It had been a long time since he had last meditated, and right now he felt he could use the calm it always brought to his spirit. He got out his aromatherapy candles, and his meditation tape. He turned the ringer off on the phone, and settled himself in the middle of the living room carpet, after lighting the candles, and turning on the tape. Crossing his legs, and resting his hands on his knees, palms up, he closed his eyes, and let his mind and spirit find their center.
Tall green foliage surrounded him, and in the distance he could hear the sound of running water. He turned around in a circle; the trees surrounded him on all sides. But there was something unusual about the trees…it took him a moment, then he realized they were a mixture of tropical plants and trees found north of the equator. The heat certainly felt like the rain forest, though. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on Blair's bare skin. Bare skin? Glancing down at himself, he found he was clothed in the garb of a shaman, a cloth sarong wrapped around his waist, and leather sandals on his feet. A medicine pouch hanging from a thong around his neck completed the outfit.
He had only a moment to take all of this in before the whistling shriek of a bird of prey cut through the air. His eyes searched the jungle for source of the sound, finding a red falcon perched on a tree limb twenty feet above his head, its brilliant blue eyes studying him. Blue eyes?
A flash of silver fur streaking through the undergrowth tore his attention from the bird for a split second. When he looked back, a red haired woman stood on the branch, one hand shading her eyes as she gazed down at him. Without warning, she stepped off the branch, tucking her body in a mid-air somersault before landing gracefully in front of him.
Tongue-tied for one of the few times in his life, Blair could only stare at the woman, his eyes taking in her short stature (she was at least five inches shorter than he was), her red hair hanging in a long braid down her back, and the simple gold circlet adorning her brow. She was dressed in a green tunic, over which she wore leather and brass armor. Over her shoulder was slung a long bow, a strap holding a quiver of arrows on her back. Gloves encased her hands, leather bracers covered her arms and wrists, and high padded boots protected her from calf to mid thigh.
Finally finding his voice, Blair asked, "Who are you?"
"I am the Companion," she replied, her softly accented voice reassuring him. "I am here to show you the path you must take. Whether or not you choose to follow it is up to you." So saying, she moved off through the brush, following a trail only she could see.
Blair hesitated for a moment, then ran after her. After what seemed like miles of walking, the Companion led him into a clearing, in the center of which stood the ruins of a stone temple. "I recognize this," Blair said, "this is the Sentinel temple in Mexico."
The Companion nodded. "It is here that you must make your choice," she said.
The black jaguar appeared then, at the top of the stairs to the temple. He threw back his head and screamed. Blair had never heard a sound so full of rage. Th
e shadows began to move, growing and changing into sinister shapes, encircling the great cat. As Blair watched, one of the wraiths reached out for the feline, its touch leaving long red claw marks on the midnight flank. The cat whirled to face its attacker, but was struck again from behind, and Blair realized there was no way the jaguar could hope to win this fight, at least not alone.
As quickly as the thought had formed in his mind, a large silver streak leapt up the crumbling steps of the temple. As it took its place alongside the jungle cat, Blair saw it was the blue-eyed wolf he knew as his spirit guide. The shadows seemed to shrink back from the two creatures, then they attacked again. This time, the attacks on the jaguar were turned by the wolf's formidable bulk. The cat was then able to counter-attack, using fangs and claws to rip the paper-thin wraiths to shreds.
Still, the tide of the battle did not seem to be turning in the animals' favor. They were both covered with injuries, and the shadows' strength seemed to be increasing. With a start, he realized the wolf had not been joining in the attack, it had only been using its body as a shield for the black cat. In fact, the wolf could not attack at all, as its jaws were held shut by a heavy muzzle.
Desperately, Blair turned to the Companion. "You have to help them!" he cried.
The Companion shook her head. "It is not my place to help the jaguar and the wolf now."
A tortured scream from the jaguar cut through any doubts Blair had. "Then give me your bow!" he pleaded with the red haired woman. To his surprise, she complied, pressing the long bow into his hands, and holding the quiver of arrows within his easy reach.
Taking an arrow from her, Blair notched it to the bowstring, took aim, and let fly. The arrow sailed straight and true, piercing one of the nightmare creations, shattering it into a million fragments. As the arrow hit home, Blair heard the snarl of the wolf. The muzzle had disappeared, and it was slashing at the nearest shadow with sharp canine teeth. Within a few minutes, under combined attack from the cat, the wolf, and Blair's arrows, all the wraiths were destroyed.
As the battle ended, the wolf loped down the steps, and over to Blair, coming to sit on its haunches at his feet, its mouth parted in a lupine grin. The jaguar crawled up onto a stone ledge, its rough tongue going to work on its injuries, which were already fading.
Blair returned the bow to the Companion, thanking her for its use. Smiling, she gazed up at him. "You have made your decision here in the spirit world, Shaman. Now you must make it in the world of the living."
As Blair puzzled over her cryptic comment, the wolf nudged against his knee, and he looked down at it. When he turned back to the place where the small woman had been, she was no longer there. A falcon's scream turned Blair's eyes skyward, and he saw a flash of red winging toward the sun.
A sharp click brought Blair back to the loft. With a start, he realized the noise had been his meditation tape shutting off. Physically drained, he leaned his head forward into his hands. What in the hell had just happened? He must have fallen asleep and dreamed the whole thing with the wolf, the jaguar, and the Companion. She had seemed so real, though. He shook his head. There was no way he had gone for a walk in the spirit world. Communing with the animals was Jim's scene, not his.
Rising to his feet, he gathered up his meditation materials, and set about cleaning the apartment to get his mind off the strange experience.
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Picking up the phone again, Jim dialed the number he had been given for Agent Mulder's office, hoping that Mulder, and not his stubborn partner would answer the phone. Luck was with him, because the phone was answered on the fifth ring by a male voice snapping, "Mulder."
"Agent Mulder," Jim began, "I'm glad I caught you in. My name is Jim Ellison, and I work for the Cascade, WA PD."
"Ah, Detective Ellison," Mulder replied. "My partner told me you called. So you're interested in Diandra? Let me warn you, Detective, you are opening Pandora's box. Are you sure you want to go there?"
Jim wrote "nut" down next to Mulder's name in his notes. "Look, all I want is some information on her."
Mulder grinned at Scully across his desk. "Okay, Ellison, I'll play along with you. What do you want to know?"
Finally, he was getting somewhere. "You questioned Dr. Pallas regarding two beheadings in the DC area…"
"No," Mulder said, "I didn't."
"You didn't?"
"No, I only questioned her about one beheading, that of Violette Crane."
"And did you consider her a suspect?"
Mulder laughed, a short, sarcastic bark. "If I'd considered her a suspect based on the evidence we had, I'd have to consider myself a suspect, too. I was with her when she spoke to the woman on the night she was killed."
Jim frowned. This interview was not going well. "So you're saying there was no evidence to connect her to the murder."
"That is correct, Detective."
"And the other murder, that of the Scotland Yard Inspector? There was no evidence to connect her to that?" As he mentioned the inspector, he could hear Mulder's heart rate quicken for the first time in their conversation.
"No, there was no evidence to connect her to that. Dee had never met the woman. In fact, she was with my partner at the time."
Jim sighed. This was turning out to be another dead end. He had one more card to play. "I understand you were involved with Dr. Pallas. What can you tell me about her as a person?"
"What can I tell you about Dee as a person? She is her own woman, Detective Ellison. She lives by her own code of conduct. She defines the word integrity. If you are her friend, you will be under her protection for life; if you are her enemy…" Mulder left Jim to draw his own conclusions. "She saved my partner's life, Detective, and for that, I will be forever indebted to her. And I have to warn you, if you persist in digging into her background, you will find she has some formidable friends to protect her," he said. "Not that she needs protection from the likes of you," Mulder thought to himself.
Jim figured he'd gotten all he was going to get from him, which wasn't much more than he had started with. "Thank you for your time, Agent Mulder," he said.
"Always glad to help out," Mulder answered cheerfully, and then Jim was listening to a dead phone line.
What was it with this woman? He hadn't gotten the impression that Mulder had been lying about her possible involvement in two murders, but Jim hadn't missed the fact that Mulder had only spoke of "no evidence", not "no suspicion". And he found it entirely too coincidental that she had saved Agent Scully's life as well as Blair's. Once again he was left with twice as many questions as answers. Shutting off his computer, Jim grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. Maybe he would get some answers in Seacouver.
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After Diandra parted company with Blair, she went back to organizing her new home. She hung the rest of her sword collection on the display wall, and put the carrying cases away in one of the spare rooms on the lower level under the master bedroom. She planned on turning one into an office and the other into a guest bedroom, but she hadn't purchased any furniture for them yet.
Running across her boom box in one of the cartons she was unpacking, she decided it was time for a break. Digging out one of her favorite CDs, she loaded it in the player, and the Latin rhythms of Santana filled the apartment. Walking to the center of the studio, she began moving through a martial arts kata, slowly at first, feeling her muscles stretch and warm to the task. Picking up the pace, she utilized the full length of the room, her actions timed to the beat of the music. Grabbing her katana from the wall, she added it to the drill, her body flowing through the familiar motions, while her thoughts drifted once again to Blair.
A smile flickered across her face, as she remembered his sweet, thoughtful gesture from that morning. His youth, enthusiasm for life, and caring nature reminded her very much of Lydia, and she found herself missin
g the way the Amazon had lit up her world. Sometimes she felt her long life was a curse, that it had jaded her by inuring her to the joys of everyday living. Then someone like Blair crashed into her life, turning it upside down and making everything new again.
After decades of being alone, of deliberately isolating herself from the world and the Game in the Outback of Australia, she had been unsure of her decision to stay in the modern world. Now she knew her choice had been the right one. For a long time, she had thought the fates had made her a great cosmic joke, gifting her first with her "other" sight, then with immortality, forcing her to flee from her sheltered life as an Oracle to the uncertainty and danger of the Amazons' world. In time she had come to realize, the fates had given her powers suited to the tasks she was faced with, pitting her against obstacles which only someone with her abilities and experience could overcome.
Now was no different. Something was coming; she could feel it in her bones. She was in Cascade for a purpose, and it had nothing to do with teaching Greek history to college students and everything to do with Blair Sandburg. Unless, of course, she was wrong, as she had been with Fox, and Blair's effect on her was blinding her to the real reason for her being there. She began her cool down, vowing silently not to hurt Blair the way she had hurt Fox.
