Target

by Kristine Williams

  Blair hurried around to the other side, more to get some distance between himself and Captain Banks than to get in the truck. He'd seen Simon angry before, he'd even seen Simon angry at him before. But he'd never felt the kind of hostility from the Captain that he had just then. And he deserved it, too. He'd been no help to Jim looking through those names. He'd caused more than his share of trouble back at the Station, putting Simon in the middle of an internal problem he was sure the Captain would rather have let Jim handle in his own way. And now, through no fault of his own, he'd been the bearer of bad news, calling Simon to tell him he'd just been shot at, while driving Jim's truck.

  Jim got in and started the engine, then waited for Simon's patrol car to pull away before following it.

  "Jim, I.."

  "Are you hurt?" Jim asked, glancing at Blair for an instant before turning back to the road.

  "No." Blair shook his head and looked at the floorboards. Jim's tone of voice indicated that the conversation--what there had just been of it--was over. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The headache hadn't gone away. In fact, it was worse. Something rolled out from under the seat and he reached down, retrieving the aspirin bottle. He almost laughed. The pills hadn't gotten rid of his headache, but they had saved his life. As much as Blair wanted to share that little bit of irony with Jim, that jaw of steel advised him against it.

  Back at the Station, Blair was sent to get another copy of the DMV printout while Jim went to his desk to fill out a request for a window replacement. While downstairs, Blair made a few copies of the printout, lingering at the copy machine for as long as he could justify. Waiting for him upstairs was an angry Captain, a partner who was stressed out and upset, and a room full of officers who most likely hoped Blair never returned. But he had to. Jim was up there waiting, not only for the printouts, but for the jerk who got him into this mess to get up there and stick it out with him.

  Fine. He could do that. He could handle a room full of people being mad at him. Maybe that would take some heat off Jim, and then he'd calm down sooner.

  Blair sat beside Jim at his desk and helped his partner finish the list of red jeeps with the partial plate he had seen. There wasn't much for him to do, other than cross each name off after Jim contacted them. None of the names on the list had meant anything, and after checking Jim's arrest records for the past three years against the list, they ruled out any recently paroled inmates. In fact, when they finished the entire printout, they were left with only one possible lead; a rental.

  Jim tore the information from the pad he'd been writing in and hung up the phone. "Come on, Chief."

  Blair followed Jim into Simon's office, where he explained the only lead they had.

  "The jeep's in the lot right now. Sandburg and I will go down there and have a look at the rental records. I'd like to go through the car before forensics gets there."

  Simon looked at Jim, then sighed reluctantly. "All right, Jim. Just be careful. You'll have to take a patrol car, they still have yours down at the shop. If anyone is following you based on that thing, they might not see you leave."

  "Right, sir."

  Blair followed Jim once again as they left, heading downstairs to the garage. He'd never felt so out of place as he did just then. There was no talk in the bullpen that he heard, but it dawned on him while helping Jim go over the printout, that Jim was able to hear everything being said on the entire floor, if he wanted to. Blair could remain ignorant of anything being talked about behind his back, but his partner would hear it all. He could only imagine what was being said, when they thought Jim couldn't hear.

  In the parking garage, they found a patrol car to use and headed across town to the rental agency. Blair was silent the entire drive, and it was an uncomfortable silence. He knew accusing a member of such a close-knit society was taboo, but he'd hoped the fact that the suspicions had been Blair's, and not Jim's, would have helped. It hadn't. He wanted to apologize, but he wasn't sorry. If it wasn't Carpenter, fine. But if it was...

  "You're being quiet." Jim glanced at him as they turned onto the street they were looking for.

  "Yeah." Blair looked out the passenger window, searching for the rental agency. "I think I've said enough lately, don't you?"

  Jim laughed shortly. "That's not something I ever thought I'd hear you say." They found the parking lot and he pulled in, then found an empty spot next to the main building.

  Blair reached for the door handle, but Jim's hand on his arm stopped him.

  "Hang on a minute, Chief. We need to get back on the same page here." Blair turned and looked at Jim, confused. "About Carpenter."

  "Jim, listen, I'm--"

  "No, you listen." Jim held up a hand and Blair stopped himself. "I meant what I said about not wanting to bring Simon into this. But he is now, and so is everyone else in the Department."

  Blair opened his mouth once again to apologize, but Jim's hand came back up, silencing him.

  "I also meant it when I said I had taken a stand about all this." He sighed and let the hand drop to the seat of the patrol car. "I won't lie to you, Sandburg, I really wish you hadn't said anything. But you did. That doesn't change the way I feel. You're still my partner, and my friend, and I'm not backing down on anything I've ever said or done."

  Blair's gaze had dropped to the floor of the car, but now he looked up, meeting Jim's eyes. He wasn't flinching. Jim Ellison never flinched. He didn't lie, either. At least never to Blair. And he never said something he didn't mean.

  "Yes, I was a little angry about this. But just because it makes working around the Station a little stressful. There were other ways to go about this. But what's done is done. I'm still behind you, and I'm still behind my decisions. And listen, Chief, I'm not angry with you."

  Blair's eyes failed him and he looked out the windshield for a minute, contemplating what Jim had just said. He'd meant it. All of it. Of that, Blair was certain. And now he was even more determined to stick with him, and take whatever fallout was coming, due to his accusations in his friend's name. If Jim could stand it, then so could he.

  "Are we okay on this?"

  He nodded, looking back at his partner. "Yeah, we're okay. Thanks, man."

  Jim smiled, then patted him on the shoulder. "Okay. Let's go see about this red jeep."

  The clerk behind the counter smiled as they walked in, glancing at the badge Jim was holding out.

  "You must be Detective Ellison?" She looked at Jim, then Blair. "Here about the jeep?"

  "Yes, that's right." Jim pocketed his ID and approached. She was very attractive, with long brown hair and a sparkling smile that seemed to linger in Blair's general direction, as they tended to do. Jim read her name tag. S. Peters. "We spoke on the phone, Miss Peters. I'm going to have to take a look at your rental records, and the jeep itself."

  "Of course." Her smile remained, but it was directed at Jim now as she handed him a slip of paper. "These are the last three people to have that jeep out, but the last one, Mr. Handleson, had it the past two weeks, and returned it yesterday afternoon, just after 3PM." She reached down below the counter and retrieved a key. "It's been here ever since. The cleaning crew just finished with it an hour ago."

  "Cleaning crew?" Jim's heart sank. He should have known it would be detailed out after being returned. And he'd only just called about it, so there was no time to stop them.

  "Yes. Standard policy is to clean and wash all returns prior to them going out again. I'll show you to the jeep."

  Jim glanced at Blair while she came out from the counter. His partner's eyebrows rose, but there was still a look of hopefulness there. They followed her out of the building and through a line of freshly washed cars. At the very end of the row, was a shiny, clean, red jeep. License number BAF 783.

  "I have a forensics team on its way here. We may need to take it to impound."

  Miss Peters shrugged, still smiling. "Whatever you need, officers." She indicated the building with a long, slender finger. "I'l
l just be inside if you need anything."

  "Thank you." Jim smiled and waited until she was near the office. "Great." He looked back at the jeep in frustration.

  "Relax, Jim. I used to clean these things during the summer when I was in high school. If these guys are anything like we were, there's still plenty to be found inside." Blair patted Jim on the back briefly, then motioned to the jeep.

  There was a lot Jim could have said just then, but he refrained. Blair's undying faith in his abilities was showing through again. Any comments about the state of his roommate's bedroom could wait. Jim opened the driver's side door and leaned into the jeep. He glanced around briefly, then reached for the glove compartment. It was empty except for a map of Cascade. The floorboards had been vacuumed, the interior polished with some lemon-scented cleaner. Jim shook his head and backed out.

  "It's no good. They've used some kind of leather cleaner in here. It's got a real powerful citrus odor."

  "Just filter them out, Jim. You should be able to get past the cleaners, soaps and anything else they put in here."

  Jim sighed. He knew better than to contradict Blair when it came to his Sentinel talents, but sometimes the kid knew more about dealing with them than even Jim did.

  "Just identify the chemical cleaners, and filter them out one by one." Blair stood beside the jeep, watching.

  Jim paused for just a moment, then climbed back inside and sat in the driver's seat. He took a deep breath through his nose, picking out the smell of lemons, soap, alcohol. Gradually those smells lost all meaning, and something else tickled the back of his nose. Something familiar. Something out of place in a rental car.

  "I smell gunpowder." He took another breath and tried to hold the scent in his nose for as long as he could. "There's definitely been a discharged gun in here." He looked at Blair, who was nodding. "It's faint, but there is just a little bit. Not enough for forensics to find, I'm sure."

  "Yeah, but Jim, it's something. At least we know this is the right car."

  Jim got out of the jeep and pulled the printout from his pocket. "We might have the car, Chief, but we're far from having the gun, or the shooter." He scanned the paper, but Blair's look didn't escape notice. His partner could take the smallest bit of circumstantial evidence, put it in Jim's hand, and assume the case was all but closed. Never mind the hard evidence, the facts, the little details one needed to actually arrest someone. No, none of that seemed to matter with Blair. The kid had this faith in Jim, a faith that anything could be solved once Jim was on the case. A faith Jim never felt he deserved. But God, it was a faith that kept him going sometimes! Might not get him an arrest, but it gave him the strength to face days like this.

  Part 7

  * * *

  "Check out the mileage for me, Chief." Jim's eyes finally locked on to the one thing his mind was trying to grab.

  "Um...86,745." Blair read off the numbers, then looked at Jim. "You got something?"

  He checked the numbers again, to be sure, then looked at Blair. "Yeah. 30 missing miles. Look at this." Jim pointed to the printout and his partner moved closer. "Each time the jeep was brought in or taken out, the mileage was recorded. See there, between coming in, and going back out, there's a difference of only 1 mile. That would be driving around this lot here, taking it to be filled up at those pumps..." Jim pointed to the gas pumps at the far end of the lot. "Then over there to be cleaned. Then out again." He glanced back at the office and Blair looked up. "But between Mr. Handleson returning it yesterday, and right now, there's 30 miles added."

  "So, after Mr. Handleson returned the jeep, someone took it out?"

  "Seems that way, Chief."

  "Well that narrows it down then, right?"

  Jim glanced around the lot. He could see two young men washing another car at one end. A quick focus on them revealed a preoccupation with the latest issue of Penthouse. He looked back at the office, seeing Miss Peters and a customer inside. "Lets go find out who has access to these cars."

  Jim led the way back to the office. They had to wait while Miss Peters finished signing out a Cadillac to the elderly gentleman at the counter. After she handed over the keys, and one of the car-washers brought the car to the door, Jim approached.

  "I need to talk to the person who checked in the jeep yesterday. Would that be you?"

  "No, I was off yesterday." Miss Peters looked apologetically from Jim to Blair. "I'm new here, and just work the reception desk, so I'm not real up on the mechanics. Yesterday was Susan on morning shift. She got off at noon." She paused a moment, thinking. "And then from noon till 8PM was Steve."

  "Steve?"

  "Yes, Steve Perry. He's the manager. He should be on tonight sometime around 9PM. They switch shifts sometimes." Her eyebrows rose momentarily. "Is there something wrong, Detective?"

  "Who had access to the jeep today?"

  She considered that for a moment. "Well, I've been at the desk since 7:30 this morning. The detailers had it around 3:00...Steve was in a few times to work on payroll earlier this morning, but I didn't see him much."

  "I'd like to talk to Mr. Perry." Jim reached into his pocket for a business card. "If you could have him call me when he comes in."

  "Of course, Detective." She accepted the card with a smile.

  Jim turned and put a hand on Blair's back, ushering him out the door. "Come on, Chief. It's been one hell of a long day." They returned to the patrol car and Jim checked his watch. So far in one day, they'd been to an officer's funeral, been shot at, alienated once again at the Precinct, Blair had been shot at again, and it was only now 5PM.

  "Jim, if you think it was someone working here, don't you think we should talk to them all? Or at least find this Perry guy?"

  "Sandburg, first of all, I'm exhausted. Second, we've got very little to go on here. A partial plate, the faint smell of gunpowder, which by the way could be anything. Maybe this Handleson guy owns a gun, and just got back from the firing range. We could be following a dead end here. And until we have something better to go on, I need to get home and get some sleep."

  "Jim, there's the smell of gunpowder..." Blair held up a hand and began to check off points as he spoke. "The missing 30 miles...the partial plate. Come on, Jim, that's a lot more than you've had other times."

  "How about motive, Chief? How about suspects?" Jim shook his head. "Until we talk to this Steve Perry, and find out who had the keys to that jeep, and who could have taken it out without being noticed, we don't have much of anything."

  Blair sighed and sat back in the seat, shaking his head. "I still don't get this, man. I mean, who would want to kill you right now except,"

  Jim shot Blair a look at the same time his sentence trailed off. He was about to tell him to leave it alone when Blair held up a hand and nodded, saying nothing. The drive back became as quiet as the drive out.

  Back at the Station, Jim traded in the patrol car for his truck, with a new side window. They found Simon in his office and Jim presented what little they had found.

  "Well, forensics came up empty." Simon hung up the phone and looked at Jim. "You're sure you smelled something in there?"

  Jim nodded, but he knew it was useless information. "I'm sure."

  "It could have come from anywhere, Jim. The man who had the car before the cleaners got to it. Hell, it could have been one of those kids doing the cleaning."

  "I know, sir. This Steve Perry should be calling me later this evening. Maybe we'll get somewhere with him."

  Simon rolled a cigar between his fingers in thoughtful contemplation. "Why does this Perry guy sound familiar to me?"

  "I don't..." Jim shrugged, trying to place the name.

  Suddenly Blair snapped his fingers. "Steve! That's it. Back at the hospital, didn't officer Blake say that Simmon's had a boyfriend? She said his name was Steve."

  "I'll talk to Karen." Simon said matter-of-factly. "She's been at Janet's house, with her parents, since the funeral this morning."

  Jim agreed. It was hard
to believe the funeral had even been that same day. He was exhausted, and his jaw was aching from the tension. It was getting harder to block out the conversations outside the office as he tried to concentrate on Simon, and not the other officers milling around.

  "You two go home and wait for this Perry guy to call."

  Jim didn't miss Simon's eyes as they shot a glance out the windows to the bullpen. He hadn't been missing the undercurrent out there, either. "Right. Come on, Sandburg." As much as Jim wanted to make a stand, and make Blair take a stand himself, he knew it would be better for morale in general if they weren't at the Station. His card had the cell phone number, and there was no need for them to wait it out there at the desk. And he was far too tired to put up with any more of Carpenter's bullshit.

  Blair quietly followed, staying very close as they walked through the office toward the elevator. Most conversations stopped as they walked down the hall, but Jim could hear two officers arguing in the mens room about the shot at the grocery store that took out his window. Jim bristled, fighting the urge to walk into the bathroom and confront the talkers...until he heard the rest of the conversation while waiting for the elevator.

  Jim sighed quietly, hearing his partner being defended. He'd been angry himself with Blair for having voiced his suspicions to Simon, creating yet another undercurrent of hostility at the Precinct. But, angry or not, he meant what he said about sticking with his partner, and his choices. He could be frustrated with Blair, and still support him. But he'd be damned if he was going to let his friend off the hook completely. If Jim had to work with these men, then Blair was going to have to work right beside him.

  The drive home did little to sort things out. It was beginning to look like Carpenter was off the hook, but was Karen on it? If Janet did indeed have a boyfriend who was seeking revenge, he'd have to have gotten some information from someone about who had been at the shooting, and could identify Jim and Blair. Did they have a suspect now, as well as an accomplice?

  When they got home, and carried the groceries upstairs, Jim had a raging headache. "Watch out for glass, Chief." He reached into a bag and pulled out the beer, but decided against having on. "I think they vacuumed most of it out."