by Cindy Combs
Patrick gave him a gentle smile. "We'll work that out later, Jason." He paused, thinking. "Did Paul or Lucinda look at your injuries last night or this morning?"
Jake shook his head. "Uncle Paul was too busy yelling at me. And Aunt Lucinda, well, she sometimes acts funny, you know?"
"I can guess," Patrick muttered under his breath.
Then a large woman, red and gray hair pinned in a bun, entered with a tray. "Here you go. Chicken soup and hot chocolate."
"Thank you, ma'am." Jake replied politely.
"Just call me Moira, child. That's what your uncle calls me."
As Moira set up the tray, Patrick nodded his head towards the door. The other man followed him out. Once they were into the hall, Patrick asked, "Thanks for coming out, Dave. I appreciate it."
"Any time, Pat, you know that."
"How bad is he?"
Dave gave him a comforting smile. "He's definitely scraped up and bruised, and I pulled some pretty large splinters out of his knees and arms. But all in all, I'd say he came off lucky."
"Those knees looked pretty swollen."
"Well, if he'd broken anything, I doubt he could have walked from the bus stop to the guard house. However, all that walking hasn't helped -- I suspect that's why they're so swollen. It's amazing the kid made it that far. He has to be hurting."
"I know, and he shouldn't have been walking at all. But I can't blame him for getting out of there."
Dave nodded gravely. "What's up with Paul? Or his boys for that matter."
Patrick shook his head. "Paul always felt Janet married beneath her. Didn't matter that McCartey was a highly decorated soldier; he wasn't good enough for a Chance. Sounds like Paul's attitude has infected Tyler and Avery."
"Then why did Janet leave Jason with him and Lucinda?"
"I don't know. I don't think Janet realized Paul would take out his hate of McCartey on Jason. Though I suspect that when duty calls, Janet tends to dump him at the handiest location. I've been out of town the past two weeks, Georgette's in France, Michael's in the middle of his second divorce, and Larry's moved to D.C. to work for the senator." Patrick glanced back into the room, watching Moira comb Jake's unruly hair. "It scares me to think that with eight more dollars, that boy could be sitting on some bus all on his own heading south to an empty house."
Dave laid his hand on Patrick's shoulder, his eyes reflecting his concern. "What are you going to do now, old friend?"
"Well, if Janet sent him to Cascade, it means she ran out of options in California. And he's certainly not going back to Paul's. I've always suspected Lucinda's a drunk, and if those boys pulled something like this once, I'm not taking the chance they'll do it again. Next time, Jason might not be so lucky." He looked at his friend. "He's staying here."
Dave nodded, a smirk indicating he had seen it coming. "Then I prescribe a week of rest and light activities. Elevate and ice his knees. I'll also leave an antibiotic and something for the pain. Allow the swelling to go down, and he'll be back to normal before you know it."
Moira walked out of the room. "I'll see how the preparation for Jason's room is coming along."
Patrick stared at her. "How'd you..."
She patted his cheek. "You're a good man, and that sweet boy needs someone to care about him for a change." Dave could only chuckle as she walked away.
Sara slowly woke up to weak sunshine trying to find a way around the blinds. Again, she felt as upset as Patrick had been over what had happened to young Jake. It explained why Jake was so devoted to his uncle. Did that bond transfer some of Patrick Chance's troubles to his nephew? It was time to find out.
* * *
Ellison and Sandburg met them at a diner down the street for breakfast. McCartey looked much better after a night's rest, though Jim's sensitive hearing could tell his lungs were still congested. Dressed in a blue, long-sleeve T-shirt, jeans and a well-worn leather jacket, the young man didn't look like a Chance heir. Jim liked him already.
He could tell Blair did, too. A familiar box was set on the table. "Hey, McCartey, just order hot water for tea. I brought my Uncle Obie's Special Blend number 3. He swears by it for colds."
As Sara lifted an eyebrow and Jake studied the box, Jim added, "Blair gave some to an old Ranger friend of mine, and Vin still asks Blair to ship it to him."
Jake smiled as he opened the box. Sara simply sat back. "Army Ranger?"
"Yep." Pezzini was definitely sharp as well as beautiful. She also looked tough. Jim suspected she could more than keep up with the boys.
Waiting until after they had ordered, Blair started the questioning. "First, do you know how we could reach your mother? We've been trying to touch base with anyone with a connection to the estate."
As Sara lifted an eyebrow at the word, 'estate', Jake shook his head. "My mother's with Doctors Without Borders. Last I knew, she was in Bosnia." Sara shot him another puzzled look. Jim could tell that she had been unaware of Jake's mother's occupation.
"Really?" Blair scribbled a note on his notepad. "My uncle has worked for them, too."
"Uncle Obie?" Jake asked, waving at the box.
"Yep, that's him. I can give him a call and see if we could get word to her that way."
"I'd appreciate it," Jake replied. He took a sip of water before asking, "Do you have any leads?"
"Right now it's more a process of elimination," Blair replied.
Jim entered into the conversation. "Our main lead at the moment is that the attacks on you and your uncle appear to be related."
"It could be a coincidence," Sara pointed out, though her own voice reflected her doubt. "Do you have any evidence?"
"Everything on Patrick Chance's desk at home had been swept off, probably in a fit of rage," Blair replied. "However, the perp then picked up a picture of you, McCartey, and placed it back on the desk."
"Call me Jake," the blond requested absently as he sat up straighter, eyes narrowing as his brain processed the information.
"Blair," the fellow detective responded in kind.
Jim continued, "You were attacked in the same manner the following night. That's why we suspect a connection."
"Makes sense, except I have no idea why anyone would want to attack either Uncle Pat or me. At first, we thought my attack might be robbery or because of a case I worked, but why would they go after my uncle?"
"And the attack on your uncle was before yours." Sara was tapping her fingers against her coffee cup. "Was Mr. Chance's home searched?"
Blair nodded. "Home and office. But nothing was taken. We suspect the perp wanted something specific, but didn't find it."
Sara frowned. "I talked with Danny this morning. They've been keeping an eye on Jake's place, but no one disturbed it last night."
"So either the guy found what he was looking for, is waiting, or decided to look someplace else," Blair concluded.
"Has your uncle sent you anything recently?" Jim asked.
Wearily, Jake shook his head. "We usually correspond by email."
"Has he mentioned if he was going to send you something?"
"No."
"I'll have Danny keep an eye on Jake's mail," Sara added, "Just in case."
Blair leaned forward. "Has he mentioned anything troubling him? Any personal or business problems?"
"No. I've gone through every conversation we've had recently, and he hasn't mentioned anything that raised flags." Jake coughed, took a sip of tea, then added, "He might not have wanted to worry me."
"How often do you talk?" Jim asked.
"A few emails a week and a phone call about once a month. Although, I've probably called him more since 9-11. And we've discussed that a lot lately. I think he knows I needed someone to talk to who wasn't in the middle of the mess. But otherwise, we just talk about sports, cars, weather, the usual."
"What about family?" Blair queried.
Jake smirked. "Not if we can avoid it."
Jim matched the smirk. "Understandable. We've been contacting them,
and even had a few of them into the station yesterday morning."
"Who?" Jake asked, curious. "I'm guessing Georgette, since she was the one who called my aunt."
Jim nodded. "And her son, Dylan, along with Tyler, Avery and Paige Chance."
"I'm sorry," Jake replied sincerely.
"Sorry?" Sara turned to Jake, recognizing two of the names from her vision.
Jake sighed. "Trust me, Pez, if you can avoid meeting them, you're better off."
"I'd say you're doing well in that department," Blair remarked. "None of them even knew where you lived."
"Good." Jake replied. Seeing Sara's puzzled look, he explained, "I've never gotten along very well with most of them, especially Tyler and Avery. They're all trying to juggle themselves into Uncle Pat's good graces so they can get control of the company, and I refuse to put up with their nonsense. They worry that I've got an inside track, even though I've told them I don't want it."
"Do you think one of them would take the next step and hurt you or your uncle?" Blair asked.
Jake thought a long moment. Sara could almost see the wheels spinning. Then he looked up and shook his head. "I honestly don't think so. None of them would want to jeopardize their chances with Uncle Pat, or risk losing their monthly income from the company. But then, I rarely see them. I grew up in California, and have never had a lot of contact with them."
"Do you receive an income from the company?" Jim asked.
"No. I'd rather make my own way."
Jim nodded in understanding. "Do you have any enemies?"
"Nobody that matches the guy who attacked me." Jake stopped talking while the waitress delivered the food.
After everything was settled, Blair asked, "What are your plans for today?"
Jake shrugged. "First the hospital. Then..." He looked up at the detectives. "I know I'm WAY out of my jurisdiction, but I'd like to help."
Jim and Blair looked at each other a moment. Then they turned back to McCartey. "We do have some crime scene photos you could look at, if it's not too hard," Blair suggested.
"You know your uncle better than we do," Jim added. "Since there seems to be a connection to what happened here and in New York, perhaps you can see something we haven't." Jim jabbed his eggs with his fork. "In the meantime, do you mind going over what happened at your apartment?"
* * *
Outside the diner, Ian Nottingham watched as the two pairs of detectives left. His eyes lingered on Sara. She was so magnificent. He couldn't imagine a finer woman to wield the Witchblade.
Then a shock of recognition ran through him. James Ellison was here? He hadn't seen him since his military days. The Army captain had been one of the few men who could almost keep up with Ian and his fellow Black Dragons. What was he doing with Sara and her partner?
Ian frowned. It was so much easier to keep up with Sara and do research back in New York. This city felt so strange to him, foreign territory. Now adding in Ellison, he was going to have to be even more on guard.
* * *
The rental car was loaded with silence as he drove to the hospital. He had known that taking Pez on this trip was a bad idea. He had tried to convince everyone in New York that he could handle it by himself, but his arguments had been ignored. It wasn't an option to tell them he wanted to protect his privacy; the minute a good cop suspected you were hiding something, they would dig until it was unearthed. Both the captain and Sara were good cops. Once Sara was on the plane, he knew he'd be forced to reveal more about his background to her than he'd like.
So far, few in the New York PD were aware of his surfing championships, so teasing on that had been minimal. He could handle teasing. However, he knew that money, or even the hint of money, could change people's perspectives. He didn't want the Chance family wealth he didn't have to poison his partnership with Sara. He just couldn't see any way to avoid the train wreck.
"So," Sara started with a slow drawl, "What exactly does your mother do, Jake?"
Okay, that question wasn't too bad. "She's a doctor."
"A doctor," Sara repeated. "A doctor of what?"
"Internal medicine. She's based out of a hospital in San Diego."
"How does she feel about you being a cop?"
Jake tightened his fingers on the steering wheel a moment. These weren't the questions he thought she'd ask, but that didn't make them easier. The minefield that was his relationship with his mother wasn't one he could explain to anyone else. Yet he couldn't lie to Sara, either. "I gave up trying to please her when I dropped out of med school to surf full time."
Sara turned to stare at him. "You dropped out of med school? Why? Bad grades?"
"No, my grades were fine. Just that I realized I was only going so she'd pay attention to me. It wasn't working any better than anything else I'd tried, so I decided it was time to do what I wanted to do." Jake's laugh held more bitterness than humor. "I think I heard more from her that week than the previous four years combined."
"And your Uncle Pat?" Sara asked.
"Uncle Pat's the reason I didn't do anything TOO stupid." The bitterness left Jake's smile to turn rueful. "I didn't want to disappoint him or my Aunt Bonnie. They've both been really good to me."
"And why a cop?" Sara persisted.
Jake paused to cough, putting his thoughts in order. "I guess I'm more like my Mom than I'd like to admit. We both want to make the world a better place; just that she thinks she has to go overseas, while I decided to help the people closer to home."
Sara thought quietly for a moment. "When Ellison asked if you had any enemies, you said none that matched your attacker. You have any other enemies I should know about?"
He really didn't want to answer that one. He pulled into a parking space and shut off the car. Sara's intense emerald gaze was unnerving. No wonder it worked so well with suspects. After another cough, Jake admitted, "I had a stalker during my surfing days that really scared the shit out of me a few times. Haven't seen him since my wipeout, but he's always in the back of my mind. I'm certain the guy in my apartment wasn't him."
"That why you moved to New York?"
"One of the reasons."
Sara nodded. "Okay, Rookie, I'll let it go this time. But if you get even a whiff of that stalker in New York, you tell me. Deal?"
A warm smile stretched across Jake's face. Since Sara had rescued him from Dean and the drug dealers, he privately had thought of her as his 'Avenging Angel'. It was nice to know that she was still willing to look out for him. "Deal."
The smile disappeared as Jake and Sara walked towards the hospital. It angered him, thinking of someone viciously attacking his uncle. Hopefully, Uncle Pat was doing better today. Then he could concentrate on catching the bastard that hurt him.
* * *
Sara covertly studied Jake while he talked with the doctor. Her doofus rookie partner had been in med school? That could take some getting use to. So often Jake had said stupid things through his naivety, she tended to downplay the times he found crucial information or made intelligent connections. How could she have missed that he was smart enough to get into medical school? Perhaps Danny was more right than she wanted to admit.
More troublesome was the information about the stalker. It had never occurred to her that Jake would have picked up groupies and stalkers during his surfing days, but then it was hard for her to see him as a sports celebrity. She would have to file it away and check up on it more when they got back home. Though considering Jake's reluctance to talk about it, she had a bad feeling it wasn't going to be pretty. She had yet to quiz him on the 'monthly income' Jake had apparently refused.
She and Danny were going to have a lot to talk about when she got back.
Jake stepped away from the doctor feeling a bit better. While Uncle Pat hadn't regained consciousness yet, his vitals were improving. More than anything, he wanted to hear his uncle's voice.
Nodding at Sara in the reception area, he turned into the corridor in time to see an orderly step into his unc
le's room. Something about the man made Jake's gut tighten. Picking up his pace, he reached the window in time to see the man place a pillow over his uncle's face.
"NO!" Jake yelled as he ran into the room. "Get away from him!"
Before the detective could reach him, the man turned. Jake immediately recognized the hate-filled eyes. "YOU!"
The attacker rushed him. Jake tried to side-step him, but the larger man managed to slam into his shoulder and sore arm, throwing them both onto the hard linoleum floor of the corridor. Stunned, Jake's eyes grew wide when the man reached towards his throat. He caught the wrist as it made an attempt to grab his chain. He slammed a knee into the heavier assailant as Sara yelled "Freeze, Police!"
Suddenly, he was shoved hard towards Sara, an elbow landing on his wound. He curled up as he rolled, pain exploding from his arm. What seemed like both a few moments and a decade, Sara was there. "Jake?"
"Same guy," Jake forced out, coughing. "Go!"
"He's already gone," Sara replied, frustration sharpening her voice. She helped him to sit up as the medical staff raced in to check on his uncle.
* * *
Jim spotted Sara leaning against a hospital wall looking pissed. He couldn't blame her. As Blair talked with the hospital security guard, Jim approached her. "Pezzini."
Sara looked up. "Hey, Ellison. You guys even make it back to your precinct?"
