That grabbed Blair's attention. Way to go, Jim. Sneaky way of wording it.
"Oh, I accessed the black market." Emily smiled at the sudden silence at the table as she dipped a piece of lamb into the rich sauce. "Well, it's true. I found out about the artifacts being for sale and made some inquiries. I contacted a black-market thief who admitted he had acquired them from another private collection. I feared they would never be returned to the people of Peru, their true owners, so I made the decision to take a loss and buy them rather than risk them disappearing forever from the public eye."
"Why not contact the police about it?" Jim asked, looking at his wine glass.
"The artifacts would have disappeared immediately had I done that. These people are professionals, Jim. I'm sure you're aware of their methods of operation."
The detective sighed and nodded. "Still, buying on the market is illegal--"
Blair cut in. "Not if she gives the artifacts back to whom they belong to, right? That's righting a wrong."
"It doesn't quite work like that, Sandburg. But I'm sure it's been taken into account."
"I've had my lawyers set everything up with the Peruvian government. The National Anthropological and Archaeological Museum curators in Lima are thrilled to get the artifacts back, and in such excellent condition."
"There. See, Jim?"
Talk turned to other matters as they continued to eat their main course. As Timothy cleared their plates, Emily leaned forward and spoke quietly to Jim across the table from her. "I can give you the phone number the black market gave me to contact them. I tried it recently and it is no longer in service, but perhaps you can do a trace or something with it."
"Thank you. Every bit of information we can get helps. If you think of any names, items, locations, we can use, please let us know." Jim took a business card from his wallet and placed it on the table. "My card, if you wish to contact me at the precinct."
"I'll get you that telephone number. Now, would you gentlemen like a hot drink? Timothy makes a wonderful Monte Cristo, or perhaps an Irish Coffee?"
* * * * *
Cascade PD
Saturday, 8:00 pm
Simon stared at the white board set up in his office. Still no pattern was emerging. He needed more information.
He needed more coffee.
It was time for espresso.
He went to the open door of his office, looking across the darkened bullpen to Rafe's desk, the desk lamp still burning. "Rafe? Want an espresso?"
The young detective looked up. "You're a life saver, Captain. I just got the report back from Serena and I was debating how I could get the energy to enter it into the computer."
"Go home then. Get some rest. You've only been back to work a few days."
"Thanks, sir, but H called. He's picking me up in an hour. Said he doesn't want me driving in this."
Simon laughed at the look on Rafe's face and he could easily imagine the conversation between the two. Brown could be stubborn when he wanted to be. "Leave it for Henri to do, then. I'll make the espressos, and you get me any unsolved open or closed files of businessmen who have disappeared in Cascade over the last fifteen years, and any men who died of suspicious causes during that time."
Rafe blinked, then gave a short laugh. "Anything else?"
"Yes, actually, any unsolved murder cases involving single men in the same time period."
"That's a tall order, sir. It's going to take awhile, even if I get someone in records to help."
"You're right. It's going to take an hour or so. We might as well have our espressos first. If you want a latte, bring me the milk from the Break Room. We can take fifteen minutes and watch the beginning of the second quarter of the Jags game."
"I'll be right back. Regular or 2%?"
"Regular."
* * * * *
Rothschild Estate
Saturday, 8:30 p.m.
Dessert was apple pie with brandied whipped cream and the best vanilla ice cream Ellison had tasted in a long while. He suspected it was home made. He could make out the individual bits of vanilla bean seeds in the frozen dessert.
A memory surfaced. Sitting alone at this table after all the men had left. One of the young maids bringing him a bowl of ice cream, then sitting and talking to him while he ate. She had made him nervous, smiling at him, saying how cute he was. He had heard her talking to the other maid later, discussing the different men there and saying things about them that made him blush. He hadn't known girls said things like that about boys.
Ellison glanced across to his partner, surprised to see Sandburg studying him curiously. He wondered if he was blushing now at the memory.
Timothy brought them their coffees in the tropical solarium off the dining room. The glass roof echoed with the sound of rain, still falling heavily. Low lights cut through the foliage, casting shadows and catching flashes of color from the jungle flowers.
Blair was obviously anxious to see the antiquities she had described, but smiled good-naturedly and sipped at his coffee. The younger man had opted for a latte rather than Ellison's Irish Coffee, as he was driving.
A faint scent teased him. "I smell Cattleya violacea," he murmured, glancing around..
Emily beamed at him. "You have a good nose, Jim. It's an unusual flower. Where did you hear of it?"
They paused in front of a beautiful pinkish -violet orchid. Ellison reached out with one fingertip and touched the petals. "I lived in Peru for eighteen months. It grew wild in the area I was in."
"And you knew the Latin name for it?"
"I looked it up when I got back. There were several Cattleya orchids that I remembered. Cattleya rex--"
"I have some over here." She pulled him by the hand over to some large orchids with creamy white petals and sepals, and a red and yellow labelo.
"Yes." He smiled, remembering his first scent of one in the jungle. Incacha had followed him for ten minutes as he had tried to track it down. When he found it, he ended up sneezing for almost half an hour, managing to get pollen up his nose. Another scent caught his attention now. "Brassia longissima."
"My favorite." They walked farther through the jungle solarium, then stopped before it.
The Spider Orchid, Jim thought. Figures. The petals were very long and thin, giving the flower a spider-like appearance. The Black Widow likes Spider Orchids. Simon will love this.
"Why were you in Peru?" Emily asked.
"I was stationed there."
"His helicopter crashed and it took a year and a half for anyone to find him," Blair added, then topped before saying anything more at Jim's look.
Emily turned to him, one hand touching his forearm lightly. "That must have been a harrowing experience for you."
Ellison nodded, then noticed again that Sandburg was getting antsy, his eyes roaming longingly back to the exit, one foot absently vibrating. It was a good opportunity to change the topic. "It'll wait for you, Chief," he laughed. "He's anxious to see the statue," Ellison added in explanation to Emily.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Blair. Here we've been talking about flowers while you've been patiently waiting. Let me finish my coffee - it's getting cold already, we've been chatting so much - then I'll take you there."
"Oh, no rush-"
"Rubbish, dear. I know you want to see my beautiful statue. But first, Jim, where ever did you get the name 'Chief' for him?"
"It used to be a 'tick' of mine. I called everyone 'chief'. But when this guy came along, the nickname stuck, so I keep it just for him, right, Chief?"
"Right, Jim. Actually, Emily, it's better than some of his other goofy nicknames for me."
"Such as?"
"Oh, Darwin, Junior, Guppy, Sparky." Blair stopped the moment her empty cup touched the saucer. "Okay, you're done. At the risk of sounding totally rude, can I see the statue now? Please, please, please." His face crinkled into a look Jim couldn't begin to describe as anything but "puppy dog pleading".
It was good to see and Ellison felt some of his
apprehension fall away. It was damned good to see his partner smiling and laughing and generally behaving as he had "pre-fountain". He had hoped that Sandburg would perk up again once back at the university, but it had taken five weeks for him to find his balance again.
"What do you say, Emily? Should we indulge him?" he asked.
She laughed and stood. "Right this way, Doctor Sandburg."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you." Blair popped out of his seat, gesturing for Jim to get up quickly. It was clear that if Emily Rothschild wanted to call Sandburg "doctor", he wasn't going to argue. Not if he could see the artifact.
* * * * *
Cascade PD
Saturday, 9:15 pm
The fourth quarter was just beginning when Rafe returned to Simon's office with Henri in tow, laden with files.
"Look who I found at the elevator on my way down to records. We've got about 50 files here."
"You onto something, Cap?" Henri asked, dumping the load on one of the chairs.
"I might be. Do you have time to help?"
"Sure. Why not? Beats what I was going to do." Brown smiled and gestured to the muted television. "What's the score?"
"Jags behind by two. But there's still another quarter," Simon added. "I'll leave it on low while we work. We can catch the replays if anything happens."
"Works for me. What are we looking for?" Henri plopped into another chair and grabbed the top file.
"I want to add to this board any unsolved cases of involving men in Cascade. I'll list ages, occupations, status, and if they are missing or murdered or died by unusual circumstances."
Rafe nodded. "How about if Henri and I flip through these and feed you the information, while you write it down, Captain? It'll go faster that way."
"Get comfortable, gentlemen. We have a long evening ahead of us."
* * * * *
Rothschild Estate
Saturday, 9:20
The room was absolutely empty, except for the statue. The walls and floor were a dark slate gray, the windows covered in dark blinds the same color. The room was dim, lit only by several pot lights in the ceiling, their beams of light trained on the lone statue set on a pedestal in the center of the room. The shadows seemed to make the statue come alive. Carved etchings and hieroglyphics covered its base, the stylized stone jaguar appearing ready to roar and pounce.
Even Ellison was impressed with the display and the powerful lines in the ancient sculpture. He watched as Sandburg approached it reverently, circling around it several times before stopping at the front.
There had been a jaguar statue in the jungle when they were hunting Alex, but Blair had been too exhausted to go back and look it. No one had thought to take a picture of it at the time, and when they looked around later, they couldn't find it. Maybe one day he'd take Sandburg back there, when the area had lost its taint.
Ellison's attention shifted to Emily Rothschild. There was almost a hunger in the way she was looking at his partner, her full attention on him, cataloguing each move he made. The sentinel felt a growl growing in his chest. Maybe she wasn't Alex, but Emily was pushing his buttons. Whatever she had planned, he was watching, on full alert.
As if she felt him watching her, she smiled at Sandburg, the harsh gaze changing to a softer indulgent look. "Do you like it, dear?" she asked.
Keep your paws off him, lady.
"I'd like to draw it, if I could." Sandburg's voice broke, testament to the feelings so apparent on his face. "My backpack is by the door. I'll just pop back and get it."
"Tonight, is for viewing only. For relaxing," Emily said, firmly. "Tomorrow you may come back and spend the day with it. Draw it, take pictures of it, doing rubbings or whatever else you want. Tonight, though, enjoy it. I have other artifacts in my display room downstairs. We'll tour around and see everything. Tomorrow, you can concentrate on this one statue. Tonight, you're mine." She looked Sandburg over again, then turned to Ellison. "My guests."
* * * * *
Cascade PD
Saturday, 10:30 pm
The storm had ended. A single bulb in Banks' office lit the white board, casting shadows through the venetian blinds to stripe the darkened bullpen. Major Crimes was now closed for the night, and Simon was alone again. The game was over, and his two men had left for the evening.
"Damn it. There's a pattern here somewhere. There's got to be some reason... ."
He stared again at the names, the dates, in the long list of men missing through the years, or unsolved murder or suspicious death cases.
"You're tied up with some of these, Rothschild. I just have to find the connection."
Ignoring the rules, he lit a cigar and sat at his desk, staring across the room at the board.
* * * * *
Rothschild Estate
Saturday, 11:20 pm
It was close to eleven-thirty before they left. Timothy had a brief word with Emily that a flashing light on the security panel near the front entrance was indicating a window was open when it was clearly shut. They followed Emily to the security room, where she glared at the light and spoke with the butler.
Ellison stared beyond her to the blueprints of the house on the wall, another faint memory refusing to surface, teasing him. The house held secrets.
Rothschild touched his arm. "Jim, dear, there's been a problem with this security system for some time now, and I'm ready to replace it. Would you mind coming back tomorrow and taking a look at it for me? I'd love your opinion on what I'm considering buying."
He turned to look at the panel, her hand falling off his arm. "You'd be better off bringing in someone from a reputable security firm." Ellison met Sandburg's imploring gaze and sighed inwardly before adding, "There are several good ones in the city; I can check and see which one my father uses, or if he has any suggestions." A quick glance to his partner showed Sandburg wanted more. "I'd be happy to look at it for you, Emily, but I'm not a home-security expert."
She seemed pleased. "You are a talented police officer, and I'd like to hear your suggestions. I'll try to find that phone number for the black-market group for you, as well -- if it can be of any help."
"Thank you. I still wish you would have called the police at the time, rather than getting involved in illegal purchases."
"If I had done that, then the exhibit never would have happened, and the people of Peru would never have seen a valuable piece of their history."
The rain had stopped, the air was fresh and clean as they exited the mansion and walked toward the Volvo. Ellison stopped and looked at several expensive cars belonging to Rothschild. One was an antique early model Ford, one an Italian racing car, a classic Rolls Royce, a sporty convertible, and a stretch limousine. He half-expected to see a sleek BMW or a Merecedes Benz among her collection, but looking at the ten-car garage off to one side, there was still a possibility she owned one of those, as well.
Sandburg's Volvo looked somewhat bedraggled beside her cars. Time for a good wax job and some detailing for both the Volvo and his truck. Maybe tomorrow morning.
Sandburg took Emily's hand. "Thank you so much for dinner and the evening. I apologize for being so anxious to see the statue. I had a lovely evening."
"You'll enjoy taking time tomorrow to do your research right, Blair. Sometimes it's nice to do as Paul liked and mix business and pleasure, but I find myself more focused if I can stick to one or the other."
"And I'll try to find that Native American information you wanted."
"Forget I asked, dear. Anything close to what I'm looking for is probably unavailable, or else it should be in a museum for everyone to share."
"That's probably true."
"I've already decided to go with a different theme. It was just an idea. Blair, you're a lovely young man, and I mean it when I say that you should continue your anthropological pursuits and get that doctorate. I've read some of your papers; you're a true scholar."
Sandburg's tension unwound at her praise. "Thank you, Emily. I enjoy what I d
o: working with Jim, my teaching, and my studies."
"You need to be where you shine."
"Come on, Sunshine," Jim put in. "Time to hit the road. Emily, thanks for everything. The food and drink were marvelous, your home is spectacular, and your company was a pleasure." He held out his hand to her, then allowed her to kiss his cheek, as he returned the embrace. "I'll pop by tomorrow and take a look at your security system. Are you okay for tonight?"
"Yes, thank you. Timothy has it working again."
They got in the Volvo and headed down the long, winding road to the front gate, which again creaked open as they approached.
"See, Jim. You were acting so suspicious of her on the way here. She's just a nice, old, rich lady."
Ellison shrugged. Something was wrong. He didn't trust her for one moment, but he had nothing to hang that on. "Just be careful, Sandburg. She deliberately worked everything to get you to her house, then worked everything so you have to come back again tomorrow. She wants something from you."
Ellison's spidey-sense was tingling. He had watched her as she watched his partner looking at the statue, and had wanted to arrest her on the spot - or at least challenge her. He was sick of people obsessing on his partner.
"Just be careful, okay?"
"Okay. Okay. I'll be careful. There. Satisfied?" Sandburg shifted topics, idly speculating on the jaguar statue's origins as they drove back to the loft.
.* * * * *
Rothschild Estate
Sunday, 12:00 am
Emily Rothschild sat at her desk in her private office, humming as she cut out the cover of a magazine. The clock chimed midnight, and she glanced over at it, waiting for it to stop before she continued.
She resumed her off-key humming, and placed the picture face down onto a mat, taped it, then slipped the mat into a frame, securing the four corners. She turned the picture over and smiled down at it.
From her archives she had found the magazine cover she had remembered while they were speaking. Ellison. Captain James Ellison. That's where she had seen him before. On the cover of "News" magazine. Beyond the Call: G.I. Survives Jungle Ordeal." He was gorgeous, besides. The returning soldier. The strong crusader for justice.
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