Checking Out
"I can't see why you couldn't come by yourself, Jim." Blair muttered as he breezed through the door of Mackie's Family Grocery Store. "It's late and I could be at home working on tomorrow's lecture."
The detective smiled. "Well, Chief, you're the one who drank the last of the milk. You should have bought some. It's only fair that I drag you out at midnight to get it."
Blair grimaced. "I drank it this morning and if you hadn't had me running all over town today and most of tonight with you, I would have bought some."
"Criminals don't work from 9 to 5, Chief," Jim replied reasonably as he grabbed a shopping cart.
Blair's eyes widened. "A cart?! We just need milk, man."
The detective shrugged as the two headed toward the first aisle. "While we're here we might as well stock up on groceries. We need quite a few things."
Blair rolled his eyes as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. "We'll be here forever."
"Quit your complaining, Chief." Jim looked around the store. "We'll be out of here in no time. There aren't too many people around."
"Yeah," Blair replied. "Most people are probably doing more productive things at this time of night."
Jim smiled, amused. "Hey, Sandburg, don't blame me for the sorry state of your love life."
Blair blushed. "That's not what I meant." He glanced around, trying to ignore Jim's laughter. Seeing two men enter the grocery store, he scowled. "What's that you were saying about not too many people around?"
Jim glanced at the two men and frowned. Eyes narrowed, he felt the flicker of apprehension dance along his spine. There was something familiar about these two. Where had he seen them?
Lost in thought, he didn't realize Sandburg was calling to him until he felt the hand on his arm. Blinking, his eyes focused on the worried face of his guide.
"Jim? You okay, man?" Blair asked, staring up at him.
With an easy smile, Jim waved Blair's concern away. "Yeah, I'm fine. No problem."
The younger man removed his hand from Jim's arm only to run it through his curls. "What was that all about?"
Jim shrugged. "Nothing. I thought maybe I saw someone I knew."
"Those two men?" Blair probed.
Jim gave him an exasperated look. "Yeah, Chief. I thought I recognized them, but I can't remember where. Satisfied?" He moved forward and Sandburg fell in step beside him.
"Hmmm..." Blair mused as they walked down the first aisle. "I wonder where you know them from. Maybe you've worked with them before?"
Jim reached for a six pack of beer and placed it in the basket. "I don't know, Sandburg. Hell, it could be my eyes playing tricks on me."
The younger man's forehead wrinkled in amazement. "Your eyes playing tricks on you? You've gotta be kidding, right?" He shook his head.
Laughing, Jim lightly slapped his companion on the back. "It does sound kind of funny, doesn't it?" Blair just rolled his eyes at him. He continued, "Look, don't worry about it. If it's important, it'll come back to me. Now, why don't you make yourself useful and get the milk and meet me in the frozen food section."
Blair shot him another look and muttered. "Make myself useful...what does he think I do on a daily basis? I'll show him useful."
As he moved off, Jim called to him. "Oh, pick up a package of Oreo cookies on the way back."
Blair turned to him. "Jim, those aren't very healthy--"
"Enough, Sandburg. If you value your dissertation, you'll bring me my cookies."
Blair grinned suddenly, causing Jim to wonder what was going on in the anthropologist's head. "Sure, Jim, no problem."
Jim watched him walk away. Softly spoken words only a Sentinel could hear floated back to him and Jim finally understood Blair's Cheshire cat grin. "I'll get the low fat cookies."
"Sandburg..." Jim muttered as he turned down the pasta aisle, losing sight of his guide.
"Excuse me, ma'am." Jim spoke to the middle-aged woman as he reached passed her for Blair's favorite spaghetti noodles.
The woman smiled and batted her mascara-laden eyelashes at him. "No problem." She wiggled her hips at Jim.
Jim almost laughed, but settled for strolling purposefully away. He'd never really considered the grocery store a great place to pick up a date, but apparently others had.
He turned the corner and found himself surrounded by diapers and other baby paraphernalia. Jim groaned. He thought this would be the cereal aisle. Sighing, he was about to turn around when a young woman about Blair's age caught his attention. She was trying to reach the baby formula on the top shelf.
"Here," Jim strolled over to her. "Let me get that for you. How many cans do you need?"
The young woman smiled up at him. "Thanks. I need at least six cans. Sarah needs a special formula and they always put it where I can't reach."
Jim handed the six cans to the petite woman. She placed them in her basket.
"So, how old is Sarah?" Jim asked.
Happiness filled the woman's hazel eyes. "Sarah's almost three months and she's beautiful. She takes after my husband."
Jim raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't know. Looks like she'd take after you."
The woman blushed. "Thank you. Guess I'll see you around."
Jim nodded as she turned and left. He headed for the cereal aisle. Here he found a young man in his late teens stocking up on boxes of Wheaties. Jim counted two boxes in the man's basket and two boxes in his hands. The young man was wearing a Rainier sweatshirt and was built like an ox.
College student. Probably plays on the football team. Possible member of a fraternity. Jim reasoned, his detective skills automatically cataloging the person in front of him. Jim passed him and grabbed some Frosted Flakes for himself before going to the nuts and grains cereals for Blair's breakfast of choice.
Interesting who you meet at a grocery store late at night. Jim mused.
Selecting Blair's cereal, Jim turned toward the front of the store in the direction of the bakery.
* * * *
Blair set the half gallon of milk down on the ground and reached for the Oreo cookies. Holding the low fat cookies in one hand and the regular cookies in the other, Blair weighed his options. I could get the healthier cookies... the thought trailed off. He didn't know if Jim would be upset about it or not. You just couldn't tell with Jim sometimes. Blair, himself, couldn't taste the difference between the low fat and the regular cookies. However, he didn't have Jim's sensitive taste buds, either.
Blair was just returning the low fat cookies to the shelf, deciding to be on the safe side, when he heard his name called. The long-haired man turned and smiled at the newcomer. "Hey, Tommy. How are you?"
The broad-shouldered young man pulled his basket alongside Blair. "Just great, teach. Ran out of food at the frat house and it was my turn to make a grocery run."
Blair eyed his former student as the other man tugged at his Rainier sweatshirt. "Gee, Tommy. You guys go through food faster than the speed of light."
Tommy laughed and brushed at his blond crew-cut. "Well, teach, we're a bunch of football and soccer players. We need the food."
Blair was still smiling when he reached down and picked up the milk he'd left on the floor. "Tommy, I haven't seen David. How did he do last semester?" he asked.
The Rainier undergrad looked down at Blair. He towered over his former teacher by at least six inches. "David did great. He's been meaning to go over to your office and thank you for tutoring him in history. If it hadn't been for you, David wouldn't have passed and he would have been kicked off the team."
"Oh, I don't know about that." Tucking the big bag of cookies under his arm, Blair brushed a strand of hair from his face.
"It's true," Tommy insisted. "Anyway, David will probably come by this week. It's been kind of hectic."
"Always is at the beginning of a new semester. Tell him to come by anytime. And if any of you need anything, let me know."
"Same goes for you, teach," Tommy replied. "Listen, gotta go. Reza was begging for some apples when I left."
Blair laughed. "He's still on that fruit kick, huh?" At Tommy's nod, he continued, "That's good. Didn't ever think we were going to break him from the chips and soda habit."
"Oh, he still craves carbonated caffeine once in a while, but it's okay. Later, teach. See ya around campus."
"Bye, Tommy." Blair watched the younger man steer the cart like an Indy 500 driver. He careened around the corner and disappeared.
Better go find Jim, Blair thought. I should have met him a long time ago. He could be anywhere in the store by now. He passed the young woman with the diapers in her basket and began searching the aisles for his partner.
* * * *
The Sentinel was just reaching for two loaves of bread--one white, one wheat--when his keen hearing picked up conversation at the register.
"Look, son, don't cause me or my partner any trouble here. We have guns and we're not afraid to use them. Now, we want all the money you've got in the store," growled a deep voice.
Jim dropped the bread in the basket and turned around to look. There were two men roughly medium height towering over the teenaged checker. They were the same two men who had entered the store minutes behind him and Sandburg.
The teenager's voice wobbled. "I--I have to get the manager."
"Then page him. But no funny business you got it, kid? There's a gun pointed at you."
Jim assessed the situation and reached for his gun. Frowning, he tried again to place the two men. I know I've seen them before. He sighed angrily. Come on, Ellison, think!
He heard a scream and instinctively pointed his gun in that direction. Figuring out who the men were would have to wait. Looking quickly, he saw the middle-aged woman who had flirted with him earlier staring at the two men and the checker.
At the same time, Blair came bounding around the corner, milk in one hand and a bag of Oreos in the other. The anthropologist's eyes focused on Jim.
"Jim, did you hear--" Blair spoke out loud as he got closer. He interrupted himself when he saw the gun in the detective's hand.
Blair's eyes traveled from Jim's gun to the two men Jim had said appeared familiar to him. They both now had guns pointed at a woman. "Oh, no," the teacher muttered. "Man, can't we even go grocery shopping without starting a small war?"
"Freeze! Police!" Ellison shouted.
The robbers whirled on Jim and began firing.
Jim dropped down and crouched behind the donut table. He yelled, "Get down, Blair!"
The anthropologist had already ducked behind the Coca-Cola display. He prayed that the cases of soda would be ample protection. Blair winced as he heard cans of soda hiss as the bullets pierced through the aluminum.
Blair ducked even lower and chanced to peer around the display. Jim had managed to topple over the table of pies and muffins and was using it as a shield. He was returning fire.
Blair sighed in relief only to jerk in alarm at a sound he'd hoped never to hear. He looked passed Jim at the scene before him. The woman's agonized cry was cut short as a second and third bullet struck her. She collapsed and didn't move.
Blair's stomach threatened to crawl up into his mouth as the teenage cashier gave a shout. "No!" Blair couldn't even see him. The teenager had dropped to the floor as soon as the bullets began to fly.
Blair suddenly recalled his own precarious position as a bullet took out the sales sign atop the Coke display. He ducked back down, but peeked out.
"Jim," he called. "What--" Blair's eyes widened in horror as he took in the sight of his partner. Dimly, he was aware of one of the gunmen speaking.
"Put the gun down or you'll get it next, cop!"
Blair swallowed. Jim wasn't going to move. He'd zoned out, his gaze locked on to the dead woman's body.
"Jim," he called. "Come on, snap out of it." To himself he muttered, "Please, Jim. Please. Work with me here."
The Sentinel didn't respond and Blair saw the gunman turn his weapon on Jim. In a split second, the Guide was up and running toward his partner.
The bullet burrowed through Blair's body as he threw himself against his friend. The detective blinked in sudden awareness and tried to shift under the weight that was pressing him to the floor.
Jim glanced up. "Blair? What--" He stopped suddenly, feeling the wetness of the precious blood against his back and side. The Sentinel's extreme sense of touch made it all the more unbearable to feel his partner's blood seeping from his body.
He didn't stop to think about it. Blair's body lay heavy against him and the Sentinel could hear the slow beat of his heart. Quickly, Jim flipped his partner under him and brought his gun up.
Too late. In his concern for Blair, Jim was unaware of the two gunmen approaching. Two guns were now trained on him. Jim Ellison froze.
TBC