"Okay. I'll expect him then."
Jim hung up the phone and Blair looked up, still afraid to bring up any subject that might set his partner off.
"Agent Mills is coming over in an hour. He's gonna need your statement to wrap up this end of the case." Blair nodded, raising his eyebrows slightly but saying nothing. "Listen, we're about out of everything, and he might as well stay for dinner, huh?" Jim crossed the room and retrieved his coat from the hanger. "Will you be okay if I go to the store?"
"Yeah, Jim. I'm fine."
"You're sure?" Jim started to put on the coat, but was obviously waiting for an answer.
Blair nodded. "I'm fine. Just leave the door unlocked, okay? In case he beats you here."
"I won't be that long, Chief." Jim picked up the cordless phone and handed it to Blair. "All right, I'll leave it unlocked."
Blair had just opened his mouth to protest when Jim agreed. "Thanks. Hey, don't forget coffee filters."
"Right." Jim picked up his keys then opened the door. "Anything else?"
Blair thought for a moment. It had been a few days since he'd even been in the kitchen. He shook his head and Jim left, shutting the door behind him. Blair listened for the locks, but Jim remembered. It was always his habit to lock everything, and since David Lash's remodeling of the livingroom, Jim had put in stronger deadbolts.
Blair set the phone down on the cushion beside him, fished the remote control out from under his butt, and flipped on the television. There wasn't anything on but news, so he settled for the weather report and tried to use that as something to focus on. Anything to keep his mind from Jim telling him it was over. No, it couldn't be. He was just upset, and needed some time to cool down. Blair couldn't picture his life back the way it had been. Sure, he could go on if he had to, go back to the research, back to the University. But he didn't want to. Hell, maybe he couldn't even if he wanted to. It just wasn't the same. He just wasn't the same. No, Jim would change his mind, given a little time. Blair just needed not to push it. It would be hard, but he'd have to play along, keep quiet for the time being.
There was a knock on the door that startled him out of his thoughts. The weather had just ended, so he couldn't have been daydreaming all that long.
"Who is it?"
"Agent Mills."
"Oh, hey, come on in." Blair flipped off the television and turned to face the door as it opened, allowing the immense form of Agent Mills into the loft. "Hey, Jim said you'd be coming by. He just stepped out to the store. Come on in."
Agent Mills closed the door then turned back to face Blair. "I'm probably early. I told Captain Banks I'd stop by, to get your statement and talk to Ellison."
"Yeah, we were expecting you. Have a seat."
Mills crossed the room and got comfortable in the chair facing the couch where Blair sat. "How are you feeling?"
"Much better, thank you. Anything new with the case?" If Jim wouldn't talk about it, maybe Mills would.
He shrugged. "Not much more than we had the other day. Oh, that's right, you've been out of the loop lately, haven't you?"
Blair nodded, smiling a little. "Yeah, kind of."
"Well, those two Ellison brought in, Edwards and Patterson, they claim no connection with the other three kidnappings and murders. Of course, we expect that. But that's for the lawyers to worry about."
"What about a third man?" Blair asked. He was still convinced Jim couldn't have been blindsided by someone already in the bathroom.
Mills looked thoughtful for a moment. "You believe there was a third man too?"
Blair nodded. "There had to be, for Jim to be taken out like that."
"I agree, but unfortunately, we have no proof, no witnesses, and those two aren't talking." Mills shook his head, then ran a hand through his flaming red beard, stroking the hairs down. "Did you see anything?"
"No." Blair shook his head. "I didn't even get a look at the guy who took me out. It happened too fast."
"Well, chloroform acts quickly. You're usually out before you hit the ground."
Blair nodded, remembering the incident as well as one other. It had worked fast. So fast, Blair had no memory of the attack at all. Unless...
His thought was interrupted by someone coming through the front door.
"Hey, Jim."
"Ellison, can I give you a hand with anything?" Agent Mills stood, walking towards Jim as he stumbled into the loft, trying not to drop the four grocery bags.
"Ah, thanks." Jim relinquished one of the bags. "Listen, will you stay for dinner?"
Blair was relieved to hear Jim's tone as he and Mills carried the bags to the kitchen. Maybe having this case wrap up would set him right.
"Sure, if it's no trouble, I'd kill for a home cooked meal. All this travel and hotel food, really gets to you after a while."
"I know what you mean." Jim laughed. "Here, you're off duty, right?" Jim pulled a beer out of the refrigerator.
"I am now." Mills smiled and accepted the beer.
"Hey, Jim...?" If they were going to be relaxed and happy, he sure as hell wanted to join in.
"Not on those medications, Chief." Jim checked his watch. "Have you taken them recently?"
Blair rolled his eyes. God, Naomi hadn't even been this mothering. "Yes, Jim."
"Good. You want tea, or water or something?"
"No, I'm fine. Thanks, Jim." Great. Sitting on the couch, with Jim and Agent Mills towering over him, really added to the effect. "So, where are you from?" Maybe a change of subject would help.
Mills crossed the room and sat back down in the chair. "I'm assigned to LA, but I'm from Michigan originally." He took a long pull on the beer, then glanced out the windows. "It's really nice up here, though. I wouldn't mind a transfer to this area."
"Yeah, well, you've caught us in good weather," Blair replied, glancing at the evening sunlight streaming in.
They passed an hour talking about the benefits of Cascade versus Los Angeles, then about Agent Mills' family back in Michigan while Jim made dinner. Blair kept the conversation on track, seeing Jim maintaining a good mood and joining in. As long as they avoided the case, until maybe they could sneak it back in, he was willing to do anything it might take to promote Jim's good mood. By the time dinner was ready, Blair had a new respect for Agent Mills. His own niece had been the same age as the last victim killed by the kidnappers. No wonder the man looked so weary.
During dinner, Blair listened as Jim and Mills discussed the military versus the FBI for background experience. He enjoyed watching and hearing the two men good-naturedly defend their respective backgrounds as being the best place to learn. Blair was fascinated, listening to the two of them, and thinking of the men they were. He'd always been impressed with Jim, and his experience and personality. Now he was gaining more respect for Agent Mills, a man he had barely known when all this started. For such a large man, he was very soft and gentle, with a depth that spoke of emotional involvement in each and every case. He was a man who took crime as a personal attack, yet somehow maintained just enough detachment to do his job without losing his mind. How he found that balance, the balance Jim was always telling Blair about, he'd never understand. Jim was controlled, and sometimes detached when he needed to be, but he was never unfeeling. Finding that medium, that balanced point between uncaring and emotional overload, was something Blair wondered if he'd ever manage. Studying Jim and his ability to go through this life of his on such a controlled level was almost as intriguing to Blair as his Sentinel studies.
By the end of dinner, Blair was feeling tired again, and the drugs he had taken earlier were beginning to wear off. The occasional stab of pain through his side caused him to wince, and he did his best to hide the action from Jim. They'd nearly made it through the night without bringing up that morning's argument again. Of course, having Agent Mills there might have helped. Jim would never air a grievance in front of someone else. But, Mills couldn't stay until Jim changed his mind. Blair would have to do that. Somehow.
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"So, you never saw who hit you?"
The agent's question brought Blair back into the conversation, and he realized he was talking to Jim.
"No. It happened too quickly, and I was focused inside the mens room. If there was a third man, and they don't turn him in, we'll probably never know." Jim set his coffee cup down and ran a hand over his short hair. "What about the money? You said it wasn't marked, so none of it has been recovered?"
Agent Mills sighed, shaking his head. "No. They knew all the ways we had of marking money, and promised to kill the victim if they detected anything. With Keller, when the family admitted they had no money, my superiors authorized a payoff with marked bills, standard operating procedure. They found every mark and trace we had, got away with the money, and killed Mr. Keller that afternoon. With Mr. Neal, we put tracers in the briefcase, but they made a switch halfway through the delivery. By the time Miss Mueller was abducted, we were taking no chances. The money was paid, and every attempt at tracing the case and the delivery was made, but like I've said, the directions given, and the many switches and changes in direction were just too hard to follow."
"What about serial numbers?" Jim asked.
"Sure, we've got those. But that only helps us if they try and spend or deposit the money in the US. If they take it out of the country, they'll have it half spent before we get wind."
"So, if none of the money was recovered, and these two you caught swear they were working alone, then there's 8 million out there waiting for someone to find it." Blair shook his head. "But if there was a third man, he'd get the money and get away with it."
"That's right, Chief. So, if there was a third man, Edwards and Patterson either figure they'll get off, and their partner will be waiting, or they've got the money stashed someplace that even he doesn't know about, and they figure 8 million is worth waiting for."
"They've got a long wait, if that's the plan. The two of them will be going up till they're both far too old to spend any of it," Mills said. "Personally, I'm getting too old for some of these guessing games." He stood, stretching his back until Blair heard it pop. "As long as we've got these two, and the kidnappings have been stopped, I think it's worth 8 million. Knowing that it isn't going to happen again." Jim stood as well, but Blair realized if he tried to move, he'd regret it. "Thanks for dinner, beats the hell out of hotel food."
"Anytime."
"Blair, you take it easy."
Part 9
* * *
Agent Mills brought a huge hand down on Blair's shoulder, and he fully expected to feel the weight, but the touch was gentle and he smiled in return. "You're leaving tomorrow?"
"Yep. Gotta transfer these two to the Federal Holding Facility in Olympia while the lawyers from all sides hash out the details. With three states involved, it's going to be quite some time before they get things worked out. But me, I'm dropping them off tomorrow, and hitting the trail. Time for some serious vacationing."
"Sounds great. Where to?" Jim moved to follow Mills as he retrieved his coat.
"Mexico, I think. Some place nice and hot. Let the sun bake this case right out of me." He put on the coat, then shook Jim's hand. "Ellison, again, thanks for the help. I'm sorry it turned out the way it did, but without you it would have ended with another death, I'm sure."
Blair heard Jim clear his throat, and from where he sat could only imagine the clenching of his partner's jaw.
"I'm just glad it's over. Let me know if they mention a third man, I'd be anxious to help clean up this loose end."
"If indeed there is one. Sure thing." Mills looked over Jim's shoulder back at Blair. "You take it easy."
Blair nodded, smiling. "Thanks."
Jim opened the door, then turned back also. "I'll be right back." He followed Mills out the door, closing it behind him.
Blair sat there, alone at the table, too tired to move and too sore to want to. Jim had been in a good mood all through dinner, and even talked about the case. Maybe he was over his little problem already? God, he hoped so. Facing Jim Ellison, trying to get him to change his mind when he'd become fixed on a subject, wasn't an easy thing to do, even when Blair felt good.
Speaking of feeling good...Blair was just pushing off the table, slowly and with some effort, when Jim came back inside.
"Hey, time for you to get back into bed." Jim came over to him immediately and took one arm, helping Blair get to his feet.
"I get the feeling Mills isn't convinced about a third man." Blair had to grit his teeth right after that sentence as a stab of pain shot through his side. He didn't protest when Jim began to usher him to his room.
"It's still possible there wasn't, Chief." Jim pushed open Blair's door and helped him to the bed. "Unless those two confess, we may never know."
Blair sat down on the edge of the bed, shaking a little from the effort. The pain medication he had taken had worn off an hour ago, and as much as he hated taking so many drugs, he was considering taking his next dose. Maybe taper them off tomorrow. Before he could comment, Jim reached over to the nightstand and retrieved all of the bottles.
"I know you think I'm invincible, but it's possible one of the two in that mens room hit me." Jim was opening each bottle, and taking out the required amount of pills. He then handed them to Blair.
"No, I don't think so, Jim." Blair accepted the pills, but held them as he thought about that night, what little he could remember. Jim held out a glass of water, and Blair took it in his other hand. "If Raymond and I were down already, then we must have just then gone out. I mean, that stuff works fast, but you were just outside the door."
"The club was packed, Chief. I had a few bodies to push through just to get inside."
Blair wrinkled his eyebrows as he considered that. As he did so, Jim pointed to the pills in his hand. "Right." He put the pills in his mouth and washed them down with the water, then shook his head. "Still, that door swings in, and you couldn't have gotten very far inside before being hit. Someone had to be behind you."
"Well, we may never know. Unless one or both of them confesses, and turns in their accomplice. I can't picture anyone going up for life and leaving 8 million for someone else to spend. Anyway, it's over as far as we're concerned. The FBI will take care of any loose ends." Jim took the glass from Blair and set it back on the nightstand. "You need some help?"
"No, I'm fine." He knew it wouldn't take long for those drugs to take effect. "Are you going in to the Station tomorrow?"
"We'll see. Get some sleep." With that, Jim turned and left, shutting off the light and closing the door behind him but not pushing it all the way shut.
Blair lay back on the bed, too tired to take off his sweats or to care. He was beginning to feel that otherworldly, floating feeling from the pain meds, and thought he'd just better get comfortable before he fell completely asleep. Jim's attitude about the case was confusing. It could mean he was just happy it was over, and as soon as Blair was able, he'd be allowed back to work with Jim. Or, he could be keeping his answers short and to the point, not wanting to let Blair get any more involved in his work.
God, he wasn't ready for this topic of discussion! After all he and Jim had been through, he'd been beginning to believe it would never come up. Sure, one of these days he'd publish his paper, but there was still so much to do between now and then. Even after that, he knew his study of Jim would never really conclude. There was just too much to know, too much to learn. And there was something else...something his tired mind was trying to tug at, but the drugs were stronger, and Blair gave in to the sleep that overcame him.
* * *
Jim woke with a start, instantly tuning in to his partner's room below his. Blair was still breathing in a normal sleeping pattern, his heartrate quiet and normal. What had woken him? The morning sun was streaming in, there were no other sounds in the loft. He rolled over and checked the clock. 7:00 a.m. Might as well get up. He tossed the blankets off his legs and got up, padding downstairs in bare feet to use the bath
room. A quick glance into Blair's room proved his partner was still sleeping. He showered, shaved, then dressed before Blair showed signs of waking up. Jim was coming back down stairs when he heard Blair's sharp intake of breath from the bathroom.
"You okay?" he called as he crossed the room.
"I'm fine." Blair's reply was forced between clenched teeth, judging by the sound of it.
Jim sighed, then stopped at the kitchen. Blair wasn't usually one to hide his discomfort, but Jim was pretty sure why he was now. He hadn't wanted to leave it hanging--Jim's decision to keep Blair from going on the job with him any more--but he'd been too tired and upset to explain it to Blair so that he would understand, and not take it so personally. But then, just as he was telling Blair that being his Guide wasn't a job, not like the police work was, he had seen it again. Right behind Blair, for one fleeting instant, he had seen the panther.
"Ow!"
That's what he'd expected to hear. Jim hurried into Blair's room and found him half in, half out of his old sweatshirt. "Hang on." Jim took the shirt and eased it over his partner's head. "You okay?" Blair nodded as his head came through the shirt, but Jim could see the tension in his jaw and neck. Blair winced again and put his right arm closer to his side, still nodding. "Yeah." Jim put a hand on Blair's back. "Listen, if you're going to be okay for a few hours, I need to go in to the Station this morning."
"Sure, I'll be fine," Blair replied, teeth still clenched.
"Did you take your..."
"Yes, Jim, I took the pills!"
Jim sighed, moving his hand up to the back of Blair's neck. "I know, partner, it's frustrating. Just give it some time. You'll heal."
Blair nodded again, then held a hand up. "I know. I'm sorry, Jim."
"Nothing to be sorry about, Chief." Jim gave the back of Blair's neck a gentle squeeze. "Come on out, I'll make breakfast before I go."
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