Shadow of a Doubt

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Shadow of a Doubt Page 9

by Kristine Williams


  "And Blair has reason to be afraid of this man?" Clive asked quietly.

  "Possibly, yes." Jim left it at that. If Blair hadn't told them about the ordeal, then he didn't feel it was his place to. He didn't even like to remember it himself, and recalling the details in court hadn't been easy at all. Jim hadn't been able to sleep at all that night, with visions of his partner lying in a hospital bed, writhing in agony on a regular basis, even with his mind drugged into unconsciousness.

  "Well, you're both welcome out here, anytime. I hope you realize that." Katie smiled and reached out for a taste of her husband's coffee.

  "I appreciate that," Jim replied. "I think I'll take a walk, enjoy the last of that sunset." They each smiled in response and he nodded, picking up his cup and walking to the stairs. Unconsciously Jim tuned in all his senses long enough to locate Blair, whom he found sitting on one of the couches in the living area, head down in both hands, while he massaged both of his temples. Jim considered having a talk with him then, but he still needed some cool down time, and that sunset would be a good distraction. Blair looked up as he passed the living area and walked out the side door, heading towards a spot he had discovered the last time he was out.

  The rock Blair had been sitting on while contemplating the death of his friend had the perfect view of the vivid orange and red streaked sky. Jim eased himself down on a rock that kissed a 20 foot drop and settled in, with his cup resting on a stump level with his right shoulder. The sun was nearly all the way down now, with just a quarter-globe of pulsating orange still visible against a distant island. Jim watched it sink, sipping his coffee. He understood Blair's reaction, he honestly did. What he didn't understand, and what hurt so much right now, was his partner's action. After all they had been through, and all they had discussed, when Blair was cornered, he ran away from Jim. Blair's instincts regarding Jim's Sentinel senses were flawless and instant. But obviously his instincts towards Jim as a partner, and more importantly, a friend, were still nonexistent. Why? After all this time, why?

  Jim sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He could feel the whiskey kicking in, warming him from the guts outward, and thought he had better stop. Hard liquor tended to effect his senses more than the occasional beer, so Jim tried to avoid it as often as possible. His senses weren't so dulled not to pick up the sound, scent, and feel of Blair coming out of the building and walking down the path that would lead to his rocky perch. How could Jim be so tuned in, so unconsciously connected to someone, and still be unable to predict his actions? Blair approached from behind, hesitated a moment, then sat down on a rock beside and slightly behind Jim's. They were in exactly the opposite positions from those they had been the last time they each sat there, trying hard to face something neither one wanted to discuss. Jim didn't look back, he didn't have to, to know that Blair was working up the courage, or the words, to say what needed to be said.

  "Jim, I am really sorry about this," Blair began, his voice quiet even though both Katie and Clive were still upstairs. "I just...panicked."

  "I know you did, Chief," Jim replied, his voice also quiet. "That's what hurts." Blair was silent, and Jim could almost hear his confusion. He still didn't understand what he had done. Jim turned his head and glanced at Blair, seeing the puzzled expression as he struggled to understand what Jim had said.

  "Jim..."

  "Blair, I understand how you felt." He held up a hand to stop the protest he could see forming suddenly in those blue/green, bloodshot eyes. "Don't tell me I can't possibly understand, Sandburg, because I do. More than you know." He turned back to gaze over the darkening water. "Do you think it was easy for me? I sat there, in that hospital room, for countless hours, not knowing if you were going to live or die. Then it wasn't even over when we got home. I saw what Brackett did to you, and I went through hell not being able to stop it." He paused, forcing down the memory to a point at which he could handle it. Blair was so quiet behind him, he nearly turned to make sure his partner hadn't left, but he could hear his breathing, slow and quiet. Unlike the steady, gut-wrenching sound of the respirator that had been the only thing keeping him alive for 2 days while his body fought off the effects of an overdose of Golden. "I know what it felt like, Chief."

  A slight breeze had picked up, and Jim could feel a chill coming off the bay. Blair hadn't even grabbed a coat before running out here, and now he was sitting on the rock, in nothing warmer than the jeans and long-sleeved shirt he had put on that morning. At least Jim had the sense to grab the change of clothes and sweatshirt he was in the habit of carrying. He could hear the slight trembling of Blair's muscles, and figured it was from the cold.

  "Jim, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." Blair's teeth were beginning to chatter.

  "Go inside, it's getting cold out here."

  "No, Jim, I don't want to go inside." He crossed his arms and hugged himself against the chill.

  "Why did you come here, Sandburg?" Jim asked. He was tired of playing these games, and dancing around Blair's fear of exposing his feelings. He had to know, now.

  Blair faltered for a moment. "I...I don't know. Instinct, I guess."

  "That's what I mean."

  "What? Jim, I don't get it. I know what I did was wrong, and I'm sorry. I should have called, told you where I was going. Hell, man, the plane barely lifted off before I realized what I was doing. Then it was too late, and I had to get all the way up here before I could call." There was definite entreaty in Blair's tone.

  Jim sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Sandburg, ask yourself...why did you run here? Why here, and not the Station, or home?" He had turned around now to face Blair, and watched as his partner thought over the question.

  Blair shrugged. "Instinct, I guess. Jim, I just needed to run, and I thought if I was somewhere Brackett couldn't find me, then he couldn't get to you."

  "What kind of thinking is that?" Jim turned more so he was facing Blair. "Didn't you learn anything last time, Sandburg? The only way we can beat that man is by sticking together." He could feel the anger returning, coming through in his voice, and in the way Blair flinched. "Does none of this mean anything to you?"

  "Jim..."

  "No, Chief, just listen." Jim held up a hand to silence him so he could continue. "We've been through a lot together, Lee Brackett notwithstanding. But after all that, after everything that's happened, your instincts are still to run in the opposite direction, away from me." He paused and looked at Blair. There was hurt behind those eyes, but whether it was pain of being chastised, or a realization of what Jim was saying, he didn't know. "It hurt, partner. You're always there when I need help, I'd like to believe you know I'm here for you, too."

  "I do, Jim." Blair said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he gazed at his feet. "I just panicked."

  "And acted on instinct. Blair, I understand that. What I don't get, is why your instincts are to run away. And what's it going to take for your instincts to send you to your friends, instead of away from them? You obviously didn't run here to tell the Hathaways what was wrong. They couldn't get more out of you than how sorry you were to barge in." Blair was visibly shaking, and Jim didn't think it was all from the evening chill. The sun was gone now, leaving a faintly back-lit sky to see by. He reached around and retrieved his cup, handing it to Blair. "Drink this."

  Blair looked up at the cup, then at Jim. "It's cold."

  "It's mostly whiskey, it'll warm you up." He shoved the cup forward and Blair reluctantly took it. "You need it more than I do."

  Blair looked at the contents for a full minute before finally relenting and taking a drink. Jim returned his gaze to the water, glistening in the darkness like liquid black diamonds. He heard Blair take another drink, then begin to roll the cup between his hands.

  "Jim, you have to understand, I'm working on a lifetime of instinct. That doesn't just get overruled too easily." Blair paused and Jim waited, watching the emerging starlight dance on the waves. "Naomi was very independent, and raised me the same way. I've been taki
ng care of myself since first moving out, and I've never...I've never had anyone...any friend, quite like you. Hell, I've never known anyone quite like you. I know I was wrong here, Jim. I know that. And if I had taken even a minute to think about what I was doing, I would have gone straight to the Station, and hidden under the desk." Blair stopped again, taking one more drink before going on. "Running was just an animal instinct, a fight or flight reaction, nothing more. I never meant it to...I never thought you'd...hell, Jim, I never meant for you to take this personally. I'm...stunned that you did. I swear, it's the last thing I was trying to do. You've got to believe that."

  Jim sighed, turning again to look at Blair. The eyes were pleading now, both eyebrows raised, and there was definite moisture building up behind them. "Look, Chief, it's been a long day. We've both been through hell." Blair's gaze fell to the ground, and Jim waited until he looked back up. "I'm sorry this happened. I told you it would end, and he'd never get out again, and it wasn't true."

  Blair looked puzzled, his teeth chattering slightly. "Jim, it wasn't your fault."

  "As much as I'd like to believe that, Chief, I have to take some of the blame. If not for Brackett's mistrial, then for getting mad at you for running out here. How many times in these past few days did I tell you to trust me? And then you hear it over the news that Lee Brackett has been let out on bail, pending another trial?" Jim shook his head. "What did I expect?"

  "Jim, no." Blair reached out a hand, but pulled it back before touching Jim's arm. "It wasn't your fault. I do trust you, I just...I just freaked. It had nothing to do with you."

  It was time to let this kid off the hook, and get past this issue and back on track, where they belonged. After all, when Blair was out of his mind on Golden, at least his instincts at that time had been to trust Jim. If he could trust him then, when nothing else made sense to his drugged mind, then maybe there was hope. "Okay, let's call it even, then. It's not my fault, and you're an idiot."

  Blair stared at him for a minute before realizing it was okay to laugh at what he had just said. Jim's own face broke into a full grin and he slapped Blair on the knee. "Let's get inside before we both freeze to death." He stood, and had to wait for Blair to stand and step back before he could move off of his rock. "You didn't even bring a coat, did you?"

  "No." Blair shook his head and grinned sheepishly.

  "You've got a lot to learn about being prepared, Chief." Jim reached out and cuffed Blair on the back of the head as they proceeded back to the house. Yes, they were back on track. Simon would keep an eye on Brackett, and by the time he and Blair had hitched a ride back to Cascade tomorrow afternoon, Beverly would have another case ready for the judge.

  Part 8

  * * *

  Blair stirred, slowly becoming aware that he was in bed, and wanted to stay there. He was on his stomach, face pressed into the pillow, and feeling very warm and comfortable. Vaguely he realized it was morning, and by opening one eye, his theory was confirmed. He sighed heavily and turned his head, noting that the bed at the other side of the room was empty. Not only empty, but made up. Jim's bag was resting on top, but he was nowhere to be found. The clock beside the bed read 9:00 A.M. He really should get up. Jim, Katie, and even the late-sleeper Clive, were most likely down the hall, enjoying breakfast, wondering when their resident insecurity case was going to drag his sorry butt out of bed. God, he didn't want to get up! He'd never expected to sleep well, with Lee Brackett being on the loose again, but he had. He'd not only slept, but hadn't had a single nightmare. Not one. And now, after having caught up on so many lost hours, he didn't want to get up.

  There was a quiet knock on the door. "Hey, Chief, you gonna sleep all day?"

  "I'm up," Blair mumbled into the pillow. "I'm up." Reluctantly he rolled over and forced his legs to come out from under the warm blankets and search for the floor. "I'm up." He heard Jim chuckle softly and walk back down the hallway. Blair took several deep breaths, forcing his mind awake, then pushed off the bed and padded barefoot to the shower. Several minutes under a steaming hot spray finished clearing the fog from his head, and reminded his stomach that he hadn't eaten well in the last few days. When he got back to the bedroom, he found one of Jim's Cascade PD sweatshirts on top of his pile of clothes. He didn't hesitate, but pulled it on gratefully. Maybe after this, he'd learn to keep some clothes in his car as well, just in case. When he was dressed, he returned to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, listening to Katie's laughter ring out from the floor above. Jim's voice joined hers while Blair scooped up some eggs and sat down. One cup of coffee, and half a plate of eggs filled his still-unimpressed stomach, so he gave up eating more and did the dishes, then cleaned up the counter and returned the kitchen to Katie's usual spotless style.

  "Hey, look who's up." Jim came down the stairs, followed by Clive. They were both still smiling from some shared joke, and Blair detected a hint of Jim's infamous sideways grin.

  "Good morning." Blair reached up with one hand and pushed his still damp hair out of his face. "Jim, what time do we get out of here?"

  "Supply plane comes back around 2 P.M., same one that brought you out here," Clive said. "Leaves plenty of time for some fishing."

  "Fishing?" Blair glanced from one man to the other.

  "Yeah, fishing," Jim said. "Maybe if we bring a couple of salmon back, the Captain will be in a more forgiving mood."

  Blair rolled his eyes. Oh God, he'd forgotten. Jim's reprimand had been mild, compared to what Simon was liable to dish out. And he deserved it. He deserved every bit of it, having run off like that. He was flattered to think Simon would muster out half the force to locate him, but now, Blair was going to have to apologize, and pray Simon's anger would diffuse quickly, for Jim's sake if not his own.

  "You comin'?" Jim asked.

  Blair shook his head, pursing his lips for emphasis. "Nope, not me, man. It's cold out there. Besides, sitting in a little boat, with the two of you, and nothing to do but wait...no thanks."

  Jim laughed again, slapping Blair on the back as he passed by. "Your loss, Chief."

  "Yeah, my loss." He shook his head and watched Clive and Jim gather up some gear, then walk happily out the door. Blair followed as far as the landing, watching them walk down the pier and load their gear and themselves into Clive's 14ft, aluminum fishing boat. As they started the engine, Blair looked out over the bay, gazing at the small array of fishing and pleasure boats visible in the channel. After watching Jim and Clive join them in the favored pattern, he turned and walked back inside. Katie was curled up on one of the couches, feet pulled up underneath her, a large hardbacked book in her lap. She looked up when he entered, and smiled.

  "Can I get you anything?"

  "No, Katie, thanks. I'm just gonna take a walk." He passed through the room and went out the side door.

  Puffin Island was small, but beautiful. Surrounded by rocks, tall evergreens, and the most magnificent stretch of water there was. Blair inhaled deeply, letting the salt water fill his nose, willing it to penetrate his mind. Last night's sleep, coupled with his getting through Jim's anger relatively unscathed, was giving him a more hopeful outlook. Beverly would get a second trial underway as soon as she could. Of course, that probably meant Blair would be forced to take the stand again, but at least now he knew what to expect. And, he knew he could get through it. Thank God David Lash had died. Blair wasn't sure he could have taken the stand in that case, either. Telling people he knew about these incidents was hard, too hard. Telling a room full of strangers, jurors and judges, was one of the hardest things Blair had ever done. Even his own mother had no idea her only son had nearly been the 5th Cascade victim of a serial killer. Or that he had once been shot by an international hit man while undercover for Jim. And he certainly hadn't told her about the Golden incident. He knew Jim had tried to call her, when he feared for Blair's life in the hospital all those hours, but she was out of the country, and by the time Blair heard from her again via postcard, the entire epis
ode was in the past.

  But now...now he knew he could do it again, if he had to. Blair reached the far end of the island, even walking slowly and enjoying the view, in less than 15 minutes. He stopped and looked out over the water, squinting a little against the glare of sun off crystal blue water. Occasionally a pleasure boat passed close enough for its occupants to examine the private island, and wave to the lone man on the hill above them. Blair tried to pick out Clive and Jim in the distant group of circling fishermen, but they were too far offshore to easily identify. Jim's sweatshirt was a welcome addition against the chill coming off the waters, but Blair decided he'd had enough nature walking. It was time for more coffee.

  Just as he turned to head back to the station, something hard slammed into his jaw, spinning him around and sending him crashing face down to the hard ground, dazed and unable to move for a second. One second seemed to be all his attacker needed. Before Blair could comprehend that he had just been slugged, rough hands grabbed his, wrenching them both behind him while a knee pressed into his back.

  Oh God! Not again! Not here! Blair struggled for all he was worth, desperate not to fall victim again, but helpless against the wire that was being wrapped around both wrists and the full force of Lee Brackett's knee pressing hard into his upper back, pinning him to the ground.

  "Miss me, Chief?"

  The knee forcing itself into Blair's back increased its pressure, and he cried out from the pain.

  Lee reached down after securing Blair's hands, and grabbed one handful of shirt, and another of hair, lifting Blair to his feet.

 

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