No I do not own the Sentinel. I lost the custody battle, but I still have weekend visitation rights. I am got stuck paying Sentinel support, so I no longer have any income. Please don't sue me.
High Priestess Lunatic
Better Late Than Never
Part Three:
On the wall, above the red number four beside the loft's front door was a map of the world. It was a gift from Naomi. She sent a new one, updated with the latest countries and boundary lines, every year Christmas. Blair had explained that the tradition began his freshman year of college. The first time Naomi had left him for an entire year. Blue thumbtacks connected with twine represented where Naomi had been. The red thumbtack represented Naomi last known location. Clear thumbtacks where she mentioned she might go soon.
According the string and thumbtacks stuck to the map like an erratic game of connect the dots, Naomi had circumvented the globe seven times this year. Four more times than last year, when Naomi fell in love with Eastern Europe. She even applied for citizenship in Poland before the first blizzard drove her out of the hemisphere.
James studied the map carefully looking for the white thumbtack that would be the start of his hunt. Africa was a bust, so was Australia, and Asia, surprising considering how much she enjoyed India during the rainy season. She had once told James over Blair's baby pictures, cow tongue and wine that when she danced naked in the rain of the monsoons on top of the Palatka Petaluma Temple in Bombay, was the only time when her primal soul was truly liberated from her carnal prison.
Naomi was no Nancy Homemaker, but she was the most probable tissue match to Blair that James could think of. If he had to fly half way around the world, and shake Naomi down from the coconut trees Guam his bags were packed. For once in her life, Naomi was going to be there for Blair when he needed her. Not months later after everything was already resolved.
However, although the map told James where Naomi had been, where Blair thought she was and where she might go, it did not give him any telephone numbers or addresses. All that information was stored on Blair's Sony Viao - a birthday gift from James.
James did not know Naomi's e-mail account. He also did not know the password to Blair's laptop. So he took it down to the police station technicians at the police department break it for him. What they had succeeded in doing was setting off a security program that promised to completely delete the computer's memory. Which was why James was weaving through one hundred and six miles an hour to Rainier University through rush hour traffic.
There was only seventeen minutes left.
Even over the blare of the sirens James could hear the intentionally of REM's It's the End of the World as sung by Blair Sandburg blasting from the tiny speaker of the laptop that lay open on the floor of the passenger's side of the truck. It had slide off the bench seat three turns ago, but remained open and undamaged as far as James could tell.
James retrieved his cellular phone from the inner pocket of his black leather jacket and almost tossed it to Blair, before quickly remembering his Guide was in the ICU of Cascade General Hospital waiting on him to find his mother and save his life.
James stabbed a phone number into the small machine with his thumb. Holding the small telephone up to his ear he growled, "come on. Come on. Pick up the damn phone!" at the recurring dial tone.
The switchboard operator answered on the fifth ring. "Hello, this Rainier University. How may I direct your call?"
"I need to speak to Jack Keslo, NOW!"
"I'm sorry I can't hear you. Can you turn your television down?"
"I said JACK KESLO! JACK. KESLO. History department!"
"Just a moment please." The operator switched James over to hold. "I am connecting you to the History Department."
"WAIT!" James shouted but it was to late.
Ten rings later James was connected with the voice mail of the History Department. "Thank you for calling the History Department of Rainier University. If you have reached this recording during normal business hours all of our secretaries are busy assisting other students. Please leave a message or try calling back at a later time. If you know the extension of your instructor's voice mail please enter the code now."
BEEP
"DAMN-IT!" James wrenched the steering wheel hard to the right driving up on to the sidewalk to cut in front of a slow Fed-Ex truck on a two lane one-way road, where the passing lane was closed for construction. Keeping one eye on the sidewalk to avoid hitting pedestrians, he punched the number to the Anthropology Department.
"Hello this is-"
"Maple, it's Detective James Ellison, Blair's friend-"
"What? I can't hear you-"
"ELLISON! DETECTIVE -"
"Oh! Blair's cop friend! How are you James? Blair goes on and on about you, but we never see much of you-"
"Maple. MABEL! CONNECT ME TO KESLO! IT'S AN EMERGANCY!"
"Keslo? Jack Keslo? The history -"
"YES DAMNIT! CONNECT ME TO HIS OFFICE NOW!"
"Well!" Maple huffed indignantly. "There certainly is no need to swear!" She clicked off and for a moment James was afraid she had hung up on him. Then the phone began to ring again.
"Keslo, speaking-"
"Jack, it's Ellison. I need you to crack -"
"What? I can't hear you-"
James fish tailed around the corner of University Parkway and Hargrove Drive, dropping the phone to take hold of the steering wheel with both hands to keep control of the truck as it continued to swerve right into the faculty parking lot beside Hargrove Hall. He drove up onto the green of the quadrangle, past the water fountain skidding to a stop in front of Skillman Hall, where the History Department was located.
James leaned down; grabbing the laptop up off the floor with one hand opened the stumbled out of the drivers' side door without taking the keys out of the ignition or turning the siren off. Holding the flat computer under his arm like a football he rushed into Skillman Hall, pushing through the exiting freshmen with the force of a bullet through flesh.
Avoiding the elevator, he took two flights of stairs in three stair strides. Jack Keslo's officer was the third to the right of the stairs, and when James flung open the door hard enough to put a crack in the frosted glass the history and political science professor was just hanging up the phone.
"You certainly are expedient, Detective Ellison. I assume this is an emergency?"
"Yea, yes!" James panted holding himself up by leaning on the door and gripping his knob tightly in his fist with the laptop tucked under his arm. "Na, not much time left." He took a large gulp of air and stumbled to forward to deposit the computer on top of the papers on Keslo's desk. "Blair's, need in, no password," he explained simply.
Keslo opened the notebook computer. When the liquid crystal screen was raised, the figure of a wolf with ticking stop watch for a head, wearing a hula skirt, and dancing on its hind legs like a Polynesian appeared singing It's the End of the World in Blair's voice.
"Very cute," Keslo chuckled and started typing. "I am of course correct in believing that Blair would approve of you breaking into his computer even though he obviously did not give you the password?"
"Yes. Need to find his mother. Her e-mail address." James hauled himself gracelessly onto one of the armchairs in Front of Keslo's desk. He had run from the seventh story of the police department, to his truck in the garage, because the elevators were out. Taking deep breathes through his mouth and out his nose; he composed himself enough to speak clearly. "He was shot this morning."
The music stopped. James could see in the reflection of Keslo's glasses that he had the main windows desktop screen open. "Is he dying?"
"He might need new liver. In twenty-four hours the doctors will know for sure. He was in surgery for five hours, now he's under observation. If he needs a transplant, it'll just take a third of Naomi's for him to survive.. The rest will grow back on its own, but she has got to be here to be prepped for surgery in case we need her."
"Then we'll just have to find her and make sure he gets it, won't we?"
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Comments, and Chinese Crispy Chicken are welcome.
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