by Beth Manz
Blair refused to be intimidated. Leaning further across the desk that separated them, he closed the distance between himself and the sheriff and said, "Just a few hours ago, Hannah knocked me out and turned on the gas in my apartment." Narrowing his eyes, he pinned the officer with a glare. "She left me to die, Sheriff."
"That's enough!" Dryer shouted, slamming one of his large hands against the top of the desk, then moving out from behind it. He pointed down at Blair. "I'm warning you, mister! You make that accusation again, and I'll arrest you!"
Blair's mouth dropped open and he stared at the sheriff in surprise. "What? You can't just--"
"Sandburg," Simon's voice, edged with soft warning, came from beside him. He felt Simon move closer, felt the captain's hand come to rest on his shoulder. "Why don't we all just calm down and discuss this logically?" he suggested.
Sandburg turned to the captain, stared up at him. "Discuss this logically?" he spat out. "Jim is alone with her right now! She could--"
"Sandburg." Simon glared down at him, the warning in his dark eyes belying the composed tone of his voice. "Calm down."
Blair glanced from Simon to the sheriff and back again. He knew the only reason Dryer was even talking to them was because Simon had flashed his captain's badge at the man when they'd first arrived. If Blair had come here alone...well, he'd seen the once over he'd gotten from the sheriff when he walked in. He knew the man had taken one look at his long hair and earrings and dismissed him. But he couldn't dismiss Simon as easily.
"Then you convince him, Simon," he whispered fiercely, gesturing toward the glowering sheriff. "Convince him to take us to Jim."
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Hannah traced her hand down the length of Jim's face, her fingers lingering softly against the edge of his mouth. Her lips took on a persuasive pout. "Oh, Jim, please don't make this so difficult. Open your mind and accept the possibilities."
Again, Jim reached up and withdrew her hand from his face. Stepping away, he moved to the couch and sat down on the edge of the cushions. He felt weary all of a sudden, profoundly disappointed. Looking up at Hannah, he shook his head. "Hannah, you've just admitted that you've been following me for months. And now you want me to believe all this...nonsense about us being together..."
"It's not nonsense!" she shouted angrily. Then she took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, the hostility was gone. She offered him a sad, warm smile. "Jim, don't you see? We were meant to be together. It's our destiny, our fate." She walked over and looked down at him. "I know about your wife, Jim. I know all about your marriage and how it ended. And I'm sorry. I know that losing her must have hurt you deeply...but don't you see? Your marriage didn't work because it was never meant to be." Slowly, she knelt down in front of him, then placed her hands on his knees. "Don't you understand, my love? Only you and I are meant to be--"
"Stop this!" Jim pushed to his feet and backed away from her. Hannah stood and moved toward him. The glint of anger had returned to her features and as he watched, she narrowed her eyes and glared at him.
"Don't tell me to stop, Jim," she bit out, her tone icy. "I've gone to a lot of trouble to make sure we're together, and I'm not going to let a few doubts on your part stop me...stop us."
Jim stared at her, incredulous. She moved toward him again, her gaze holding his. The anger in her eyes was now mingled with something more sinister. Yet, as Jim extended his hearing, he was amazed to find that her heartbeat, while slightly elevated, was not stressed or excited. He looked into her cool gaze and realized...she really believes what she's telling me...she believes we belong to one another.
"Do you know where I really met Philip Kaage?" she asked, her voice casual, conversational. "He wasn't just some person I met in the park, you know. I hand-picked him, darling. I selected him specially to serve as a part of our destiny--to bring us together in the way we were meant to be together. I arranged for him to follow me and act like he was threatening me so I could come under your protection."
"You were working with Kaage?" Jim asked, unable to fully believe what he was hearing.
"Yes. He worked for me...for us, my love. Everything was planned--from Blair finding us in the police garage to the attack at my house to that morning at the hotel."
"The attacks on Blair...you planned those attacks....had him stabbed? Is that what you're telling me?"
"It was all necessary," she explained simply.
And in that moment, the events of the last few days replayed through Jim's mind, each moment, each element taking on a new meaning. "You murdered Kaage," he blurted out, "and you almost killed Blair."
"Yes," she whispered, her expression calm.
He took another step away from her, from this woman who had just begun to carve out a niche in his heart. "Hannah," he breathed, his stomach twisting in sudden revulsion. "Do you realize what you've just admitted to me?"
"Oh, Jim," she responded coyly. "You aren't going to arrest me, are you?" She stepped toward him again, her eyes never leaving his. "It was all a part of the plan, don't you see?" She shook her head and spread her hands in a gesture of supplication. "Like I told you before, if you'd accept the inevitability of us being together, you'd see that what you refer to as murder was really just something that had to be done."
She stepped up to him, ran her small hands up his chest to his shoulders. "Jim, listen to your heart. Philip Kaage doesn't matter. Blair doesn't matter. All that matters is that we're together."
Blair doesn't matter. Her words repeated through his mind and with them came an image of his partner's body lying on that motel floor just after being stabbed...stabbed, he now realized, by a man Hannah had hired. Cold fingers of fear clutched at Jim's stomach. She was at the loft this morning....with Blair!
Thrusting her hands away, he grabbed her by the upper arms, holding tightly. "Did you do something to Blair!" he demanded.
She turned pained eyes to him. "You're hurting me, darling..."
He shook her. "Answer me, dammit!"
She pulled free from his grasp and stepped back from him. Rubbing at her arms where he'd held her so tightly, she glared up at him. "I've already told you...nothing matters except the fact that we're together! Blair was in the way, coming between us. Why can't you understand what I'm trying to tell you!"
"So help me, Hannah," he forced out through clenched teeth, "If you've done anything to hurt Sandburg..." Grabbing her by the wrist, he pulled her forcibly toward the kitchen door, where he'd dumped his duffel bag upon their arrival at the cabin. He dug through his belongings with his free hand until he came across his cell phone. Opening the phone, he clicked it on and hit the speed dial to the loft.
"What are you doing?" Hannah asked, squirming and twisting her arm, trying vainly to extradite herself from his grip.
"I'm calling my partner," Jim informed her evenly. "And you'd better pray he answers and that he's all right."
"No!" she screamed, wrenching away from Jim. He released her, watching her impassively as she backed away from him and leaned against the kitchen counter. He turned his attention to the ringing of the phone, concentrated on willing his partner to answer. "Come on, Chief. Come on!"
A sound drew his attention from behind. He turned just as something flashed before his eyes. Even as the sight of the knife registered in his mind, white-hot agony sliced through his upper right arm. He cried out, dropping the phone, his free hand reflexively coming up to cover the bleeding wound.
"I thought I could get you to see the truth!" Hannah screamed.
Jim looked at her, at the large knife she held, the kitchen drawer she'd retrieved it from still open behind her. She stood just out of his reach, her features twisted in a feral expression. Angry tears coursed down her cheeks, and her breath came in audible gasps.
"Hannah, put the knife down," he soothed as he moved slowly toward her.
"No!" she screamed, backing away. "I thought I'
d be able to convince you that we were meant to be together...that my love for you and your love for me would convince you I was right..." She swallowed hard, wiping absently at the tears on her cheeks. "And I am right, Jim. I am! I know you love me, so just say it. Say it!"
"I don't love you, Hannah," he replied softly, trying to calm her down. He knew that even with the knife, she was no match for him, but he needed to regain control of the situation if he was going to end this without hurting her. "But I want to help you." He took another step toward her. "Please, give me the knife. Let me help you."
She gaped at him for several long moments, then an almost surreal quality of tranquillity seemed to settle over her. "You don't love me?" she asked, her voice eerily serene.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, trying to gauge her reaction, readying himself for anything.
"It's all right, Jim," she said calmly. "This life we're living is only one of many. I don't know--maybe I was wrong trying to convince you of our shared destiny so soon. Maybe I should have waited." She shook her head. "No matter, though. If you can't love me in this life, maybe you will in the next." With that, she raised the knife and plunged it forward, aiming directly for his chest.
Jim easily met her descending arm with his own, sending the knife flying from her hand, causing her cry out in renewed anger and frustration. Even as the blade skidded across the floor out of reach, he heard two cars pull up outside.
"Hannah, it's over," he appealed. "Cars just pulled up out front. It's over!" He extended his hearing, hoping to find...Blair! He recognized the heartbeat of his guide instantly. Relief flooded through him but it was short lived as Hannah, her eyes wild, began screaming.
"No! I won't let you go! I won't let you go!" She charged him, flailing with her fists, her anger lending her a strength and agility that Jim had not expected the small woman could possess.
"Hannah, stop!" He tried to catch her arms with his hands. "I don't want to hurt you."
"No!" She lunged at him again. Jim pushed her away. She stumbled backward, toward the living room. The heel of her foot caught on the edge of the carpet separating the two rooms. She screamed as she lost her balance and fell backward. Just as Jim heard the sickening thud of her head connecting with the end table beside the couch, the front door burst open. A man in a brown uniform came through, eyes wide, his gaze darting from Hannah's prone body to Jim and back again.
"Hannah!" he yelled, rushing to the fallen woman. Seconds later, Blair and Simon came through the door.
"Jim!" Blair said in obvious relief.
Jim crossed to him, his hand covering the still bleeding cut on his arm.
"Are you all right?" they asked each other in unison.
"I'm fine," Blair said, his attention coming to focus on Jim's arm, "but you're bleeding." He leaned toward Jim, trying to get a better look at the cut on his arm. Gently, he withdrew Jim's hand from where it covered the wound. "What happened?"
"Hannah...she went crazy. She admitted that she hired Kaage. That all of this was a setup from the beginning. She started babbling about destiny and other lives we've lived." He shook his head, glancing back at the unconscious woman behind him and the uniformed man who was leaning over her with such care, his face lined with concern. And Jim felt nothing for her but contempt. Blair doesn't matter. "I thought she'd done something to you, Chief."
"She tried to," Blair muttered, still examining his partner's arm.
Jim turned his attention back to his partner. "What?" And as he stared down at him, he noticed for the first time how pale Blair was. "What did she do?"
"Jim, you need to get this taken care of right away," Blair announced, ignoring the question. "We have to--"
"What did she do?" Ellison interrupted.
"I'll tell you about it later," Blair promised calmly. "Right now, let's just get you to the hospital."
"He's right, Jim," Simon spoke up from beside Blair. "Let's get you fixed up and then we'll discuss what went on here and back in Cascade."
Jim nodded. "Okay. I--"
"James Ellison?"
Jim turned toward the voice coming from behind him. It was the uniformed officer who'd been taking care of Hannah. Sheriff, the badge on his chest read. "Is she all right?" Jim asked, nodding toward the unconscious woman.
"I don't know," the sheriff stated flatly. "Paramedics are on the way." And as if on cue, the sound of sirens reached them.
"Mr. Ellison," the sheriff continued, "You're under arrest for assault."
"What?" Blair blurted out.
"Wait a minute here," Jim protested as the sheriff came toward him, pulling out his handcuffs. "She attacked me. I was just defending myself."
"So you say. As soon as Hannah wakes up, we'll sort this out," the sheriff said, his calm tone in direct contrast to the fury in his eyes. It was obvious the man saw Jim as the threat, not Hannah. "Until then, you'll cool your heels in one of my cells. Now, please turn around and allow me to cuff you, sir."
Jim hesitated only a moment before complying. He was a police officer after all, and he could understand the conclusions the sheriff had jumped to. So he would go along with the arrest and detainment...for now.
He gritted his teeth as the sheriff confined his wrists within the metal rings, locking his arms behind his back.
"Be careful!" Blair gestured angrily toward Jim's arm. "Can't you see he's injured?"
"You have the right to remain silent," the sheriff began, ignoring Blair's outburst. "If you give up that right, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
"What about his arm?" Blair asked as Jim was led toward the door. The anthropologist stepped out of the way of the arriving paramedics, then moved over to Dryer. "He's bleeding."
"We'll take care of his arm," the sheriff answered before continuing to read Jim his rights. "You have the right to an attorney..."
The detective listened to the man's words, words he'd repeated many times himself to the men and women he'd arrested over the years. But the people he'd arrested had been guilty of the crimes they'd committed. He was not. He was innocent. But as he was led to the sheriff's patrol car, he couldn't help but wonder what Hannah would tell them all when she regained consciousness.
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"I want to talk to my detective." Simon Banks scowled down at the deputy who stood between him and the holding cells located at the back of the small station--the holding cells where Jim had been placed by the sheriff before Dryer headed off to the hospital to question Hannah.
"Until the sheriff gets back, nobody is talking to nobody." Deputy Ray Barton crossed his arms, set his jaw in determination and stared resolutely at Simon's chest.
"This is ridiculous!" Blair said from behind Banks. The kid was wound so tight Simon thought he was going to explode. "You can't keep us from talking to him," the anthropologist insisted, moving to Simon's side where he could look directly at the deputy. "You can't--"
Simon held up a hand, halting Blair's words. "Listen, son, I know the law. Mr. Ellison is allowed the right to counsel."
"And that's you?" Barton questioned sarcastically, risking a look up into the captain's eyes.
"As close he's going to get to it right now," Simon shot back.
The deputy exhaled a disgusted sigh. "Fine. Go ahead and talk to him, then. He's in back." Barton moved out of the way, allowing the two men access to the holding cells. Simon held the door open for Blair, who scooted through the entrance and moved directly to the cell that housed his partner.
The sentinel stood at the bars. It was obvious from his expression that he had been listening to the entire conversation between his two friends and the local deputy. "It's about time," he quipped with a weary smile. "I thought you guys would never talk your way in here."
Blair moved directly to Jim, staring up at him through the bars that now separated them. "Are you okay?" His gaze shifted to his partner's arm. "Didn't they get anyone in here to look at your arm yet?"
>
"It's all right, Chief. I think the local authorities are a bit more concerned about Hannah than they are with me. But don't worry, it's not bleeding anymore."
"This is unbelievable." Blair rubbed unconsciously at his left side, something he'd been doing more and more in the last few hours. Simon knew he must be hurting, but the kid had yet to utter a word of complaint.
"What happened?" Simon asked Jim, needing to get the facts of the case straight so he could understand exactly what they were up against.
Jim let out a long, frustrated breath. "It's just so crazy. Hannah and I were having a great time, then she started talking about how we've been together in past lives and are always going to be together."
"Past lives," Blair repeated, his brow creasing. "The day I rode with her to her house, she asked me if I believed in that sort of thing." He shook his head. "She told me the concept fascinated her."
"Well, this idea of hers is a lot more than 'fascination.' According to Hannah, she and I have been together in other lives and are destined to be together in future lives. When I told her I didn't believe in what she was telling me...well, that's when she attacked me."
"You mentioned Kaage before. What did she tell you about Kaage?" Simon asked.
"She admitted she hired him, that the whole stalking thing was just a setup by her to get my attention."
Blair nodded. "That makes sense. I found something in his file that indicated she was familiar with who he was, even though she told us she'd never heard of him or met him before he talked with her in the park. When I confronted her, she hit me on the head, turned on the gas and left the loft. I'm only alive because Simon came over for Kaage's file." Blair glanced up at the captain. "He dragged me out to the balcony."
