The Storm Chapter 11
Hurricane Warnings
The Cascade Museum of Natural History, 18 November, 7:15 am.
"I won't be kept out of my exhibit." The furious voice echoed through the hall and made the sentinel wince. He quickly dialed down his hearing, but not before hearing the rest of her words. "I don't care who or why or what excuse, I will finish this on time. So do whatever you have to do, but get them out of my way."
"What is it, big guy?" Blair had seen the dismay that flickered across the other man's face and knew it meant trouble.
"Rafe and AJ are here and she is a little upset." Jim murmured as they turned a corner. They could see the yellow tape and the two unhappy looking uniformed officers blocking the entrance to the Etterman wing. As soon as they turned the corner, AJ looked up. Jim sighed, "Well, lets go see how angry she is."
"Jim. Blair." Rafe grinned wryly at them as they approached. "I hope you had coffee before coming out here."
"That bad?" Blair fought to keep from chuckling as he saw the expression on the other man's face. He looked down the hall to where Fortaleza was pacing as she spoke into her cell phone. "Well, it looks like she's recovered from her concussion."
"Nope and it's made her as grouchy as bear." The young detective took a long sip from the Styrofoam cup in his hand. "She won't take any pain killers and all she wants to do is finish this exhibit on time."
"Won't be possible." Jim responded curtly as he ducked under the police tape and into the exhibit hall. "This place will be off limits until the investigation is over."
"Policia." The one-word hiss was enough to make all of them turn to face the angry green eyes.
"Kyrie, we have to be sure we've gotten all the information we need to stop the killers." Rafe watched her warily, wondering if she was about to completely lose her temper on them. "There are a lot of things that still need to be checked for fingerprints – it could take days."
"There will be no fingerprints, no clues." Fortaleza closed her eyes, one hand rising to lightly touch the bruise on her temple. She leaned gratefully on Rafe as he pulled her to his side. "They wore gloves… black, heavy gloves. All of them looked alike, the same clothes and hats. Even the ones painting on the wall wore black gloves."
The three men looked at each other and then back to her. No one had told her where they had found the writing. In fact, they had told her it was at the diorama.
"Did you see their faces?" Jim asked, wondering how he had managed to forget to interview her about the scene. He made a note to remind himself to follow procedures when he knew the victim.
"No. No faces." She turned her back to them. "They were the painted ones. They don't have faces."
"Painted ones?" Blair shot her a worried look. "The temple guardians?"
She nodded, still looking away. After a moment, she turned around. "I only saw the paint, not them."
"They were wearing masks, Jim. I can get you pictures of the masks they would have been wearing." The anthropologist explained before the detective could ask. He started to say something else, but was silenced by the shrill ring of Jim's cell phone. A moment later, the look the sentinel shot Fortaleza made him decide he wasn't going to say a word. Especially as she began smiling triumphantly.
Major Crimes Bullpen, 17 November 8:30 am.
"So, when were you going to tell us?" Henri Brown leaned against the desk, watching his partner curiously. "Why all the secrecy?"
Rafe flushed at the mild reproach in the big man's voice. He'd barely had enough time to realize how badly this was going to affect his partner. But that wasn't enough time to find a way to explain it or to figure out how to defuse the situation. He sighed and began trying to convince his partner that it had all been unintentional. "It wasn't… I didn't…" he paused at the pained look in Henri's eyes.
Henri was disappointed in his partner. He knew Brian was shy, sometimes evasively so. But in the years since the young South African man had become his friend and partner, he'd never been treated quite like this. "Look, if you're embarrassed by my –"
"No!" Brian interrupted him sharply. "It's not that! Kyrie is terrified of cops."
"What?" Henri hadn't expected that. How on earth could Bri's lady be afraid of police officers, especially is she was Jim's relative? He couldn't believe his partner was trying to lie about the whole situation. "Come on, bro. If you're going to make excuses, you'll have to come up with a better one than that."
"It's the truth." Jim Ellison's voice came softly from behind him. Henri turned to see a grim faced Ellison studying his coffee cup. "She refused to come anywhere near me for almost two months because of it."
Henri looked from detective to another, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. Both men wore the same somber expression. "Why?"
Brian looked away and shook his head. "You don't want to know, H. You really don't."
Jim immediately focused his attention on the younger detective. "She told you? I've guessed but she's refused to explain it."
Rafe's hazel eyes were haunted when he looked at the other detectives. "I can understand her refusal to talk about it." He caught the calculating look in the senior detective's eyes and decided he didn't want to go through a full interrogation, especially seeing as he still wasn't sure how to handle the fact that Kyrie didn't fully trust Ellison. "Let's just say she ran into a couple of crooked cops."
Jim's face tightened and he nodded sharply. He knew Rafe wasn't telling him everything. For now, he could let it go. "Well, that explains some things," he murmured. "I wondered why there was so much information missing from her files. If the feds knew crooked cops were behind the accident that orphaned her, it only makes sense that they deleted all reference to it."
"Wait a minute," Henri protested, his mind racing through the information that he knew. "I thought Blair said she's Jim's little sister."
Ellison grinned ruefully, knowing he was going to have some explaining to do. "In a way. The tribe that adopted me in Peru – the Chopec – also adopted her. Due to the circumstances of the time, we never met. I heard a lot of stories about her and when she returned to the tribe after I came back to the US she heard about me."
"So, Rafe here is dating your kid sister?" Henri began smiling as the ramifications became clear to him. Oh, he could milk this little bit of information for a long time. "That's going to make life interesting."
"Nah. I trust Brian with AJ." Jim smiled and the other men in the room shivered at the predatory gleam in his eyes. "I won't be getting any calls about misbehavior, will I?"
"No." Brian answered quickly – too quickly. Around the bullpen the detectives who had quietly been listening in on the conversation began chuckling.
Henri laughed openly at the embarrassed expression on his partner's face. The day was starting off to be a wonderful one. Now all he had to do was find a way to get Brian and his lady friend over for dinner. He just knew Sherri would want to meet the girl.
"Gentlemen?" Captain Banks strode into the bullpen followed by Joel Taggart. "Let's take this to the conference room."
Megan Connor met them at the door of the conference room. "It's ready, sir."
"Thank you, Connor." Captain Banks acknowledged as they entered. He nodded his approval when he saw the carefully drawn diagrams on the far wall. Serena Chang and Dan Wolfe nodded to him as they looked up from their discussion. He waited patiently as his detectives grabbed chairs. A moment later, several other detectives straggled into the room. It wasn't often that he called all of his detectives in for a meeting. But the information that was turning up warranted it.
Three shifts – he wondered how he had managed to get a department that encompassed three full shifts of detectives. But he knew the answer to that. When Jim Ellison's senses had become active, Banks had known that the All Mighty was only giving him an edge against the crime was coming. And they had stood their ground, but at a high cost. High enough to make the powers that be notice and step in – giving him a larger budget, more detectives, better forensic equipment. And with each improvement, the job seemed to change to push their limits again.
With a mental shake, Simon turned his attention back to this meeting. "Good morning, people. As of this moment, the murders in the foundry, the drowning at the Cascade Reservoir, and the murder at the museum have become our highest priority. All information on these cases is restricted and the files stay under lock and key." The quiet murmur of disbelief showed that his people understood what these measures meant. "We do not want a panic and the population is already on edge thanks to the news reports on Friday. There will be no release of any of this information… to anyone outside the room. As far as the rest of the PD is concerned, we've got another serial killer on our hands."
"Since the beginning of October we've had two confirmed ritual or cult sacrifices and another two or three possible sacrifices." Simon didn't have to look at his people to know their reaction to that announcement. He knew the doodlers had just frozen and the ones who were half asleep, simply absorbing their superior's current diatribe had come to attention. The mere words 'cult sacrifice' were enough to bring terror into the heart of civilians much less the detectives. "We need to work fast to get the situation under control and stop the murders. Serena and Dan are both going to be hand delivering their reports to us to help keep leaks to a minimum. No files leave this room – for any reason. And I want all of you to keep the information as quiet as possible."
At Simon's gesture, Serena stood and placed a file on the table. She took a quick breath and began her
presentation. "So far every single
victim has been drugged before they were killed. With the exception of the children at the reservoir, they were
all conscious and realized what was happening when they died. The bad news is
that the drugs used on the adults were mainly hallucinogens, specifically
chosen to heighten sensation. They felt
every bit of the torture they received."
Several detectives paled and all of them looked uncomfortable at the
news.
"There were a total of fifty seven victims at the foundry. We've identified four groupings of eight to twelve sacrifices that all fall into the same type of sacrifice." She turned to the diagram and pointed to the largest group of bodies, labeled 'A'. "The victims of Group 'A' were all killed on an altar of unknown origins, the markings on both the victims bodies and the altar seem to be European, we're looking for confirmation. Victims of Group 'B' were all killed using methods that are very reminiscent of Aztec sacrifices." She looked down at her notes and looked at the group of detectives staring at her. " The deaths in Groups 'C' and 'D' are completely different from the others. The other seventeen victims were all individual sacrifices, matching no pattern we've found so far. The first one died over a month before they were discovered, but thanks to the fact that the body was preserved, we're not sure of the exact date. The last one to die," she pointed to a body on the far side of the foundry, " died no more than twenty minutes before the first unit arrived at the site."
Several curses rang through the room. She raised her eyebrows and waited for a moment. "Five teenagers, all young members of the Dueces were skipping school when they thought they saw something at the foundry. It's in the area they consider their territory, so they decided to check it out." Detectives around the room nodded their understanding. "They saw the bodies and got out as fast as they could. When they got to the phone booth, they called Earl Gaines, but there were only four teens at that point. Sometime between seeing the bodies at point 'A' and running the three blocks to the phone, Carlos Mayfield vanished. He hasn't turned up since then. And I don't think we'll find him alive, not if the killers caught him."
"Killers?" Lance MacArthur asked quietly. "How many do you think are involved?"
Serena shook her head and glanced at Dan. The forensic pathologist shrugged. "At least five, possibly more. The victims were held down during the sacrifices, but as far as we can tell only two were tied down. The bruising indicates one person holding each limb… four people plus the one wielding the knife."
She gestured to the TV/VCR set up in the corner. "We are not the only ones interested in this case, either. We set up surveillance, just to see if any of the killers returned. Unfortunately, no one thought to check the tapes until early this morning. They were just pulled and labeled. Cassie and I found this pretty interesting. I had our tape wiz clip all the cameras' tape together so you could see this."
At her signal, Dan flicked off the main light. The screen came to life, showing the dim interior of the foundry. As the clock on the bottom of the screen ticked away seconds, a chain hanging loosely in front of the camera began to sway. A moment later, a dark boot appeared, followed by a black clad figure. The thick bulk of Kevlar and Gortex body armor made the figure appear bulky and slow moving, but from experience everyone in the room knew the person was carrying a lot of extra weight. A black baklava and a pair of night vision goggles hid all the facial features.
"Professional equipment." Someone murmured quietly as the tape switched to a different view. The figure was landing on the floor, pulling a camera from the pack attached to his back. With swift, economical moves, the camera was assembled – lens attachments and an oddly dim light clipped to it.
"Black light?" another detective asked.
"Yes." Serena replied. "High speed film, fast shutter speed and a black light – he knew what he was looking for."
In silence the group watched as the figure moved swiftly across the foundry floor. Stopping at the site of the largest group of sacrifices, he pulled out a compass and noted the location of the altar. Once that was done, the figure began moving quickly and surely from item to item in the area, photographing the altar from all sides as well as all the markings on the walls and floor.
The same occurred at each of the group sites. Each was checked on the compass before being photographed, but at a pace that suggested that the figure knew exactly what he was looking at. Every mark, whether made by the police or by the killers was photographed.
Then the figure froze, crouching near a doorway. For the first time he seemed thrown off by something he saw. A dim light sprang into being, coming from a tiny wrist mounted penlight. It focused on something for a long moment before clicking off. With practiced ease, the old film was removed from the camera and a new canister was added. Immediately, the camera came up and something was photographed. The figure quickly retraced his steps, slower, more cautiously. It was obvious that whatever had caused the figure to stop had deeply disturbed him. Several more times, the wrist light came on and focused on something the surveillance cameras couldn't see. After each dim flicker of light, the cameraman shot several frames of film.
Suddenly the figure stopped, head turning towards the door. Then the black clad figure darted away. The tape flickered to show a pair of uniformed police officers entering the main area. Bright beams of light from their mag-lights lit the floor near them. They crossed the room, carefully avoiding the markings on the floor. A slight movement behind one of the many altars was the only clue to the figure's position. One of the officers paused, moving closer to the figure before being called away by his partner. Finally, several long minutes, the two officers left, locking the door behind them.
Only after they were gone the figure stood, watching the doorway thoughtfully before turning back to his work. He made a careful third circuit of the room before stopping at the only unused altar. For the first time, the figure touched something. A gloved first came down on the altar. The sheer swiftness and violence of that move made all the detectives in the room jump. The figure leaned on the altar, shoulders shaking for a long moment. Then he stood and walking over to the chain that had provided his ladder, climbed out of the foundry.
"We didn't show you everything, just enough to give you an idea of what the photographer was doing. He was in there for less than forty minutes. Other than that one time, he didn't touch a single item. And he knew exactly where our cameras were. We found a set of photographs of the items that caught his interest taped to the wall under the main camera this morning." Serena shook her head. "I've already checked. Only Officer Durham noticed anything unusual during the patrols over the weekend. No fingerprints were found on any of the tape, the envelope, or the photos. Cassie is checking the entrances now."
"What caught his interest?" Brian Rafe asked, trying to figure out what he'd seen on the gritty videotape.
Serena spread out a set of photographs. "Glyphs on the walls, a set of stones at each of the entrance ways, a very small piece of broken volcanic rock, and a carving on one of the altars."
"Stones at the entrances?" Jim was puzzled. That reminded him of something. He picked up the photographs and flipped through them until he came to the picture he wanted. He stared at it, face growing paler than normal.
"Jim? What is it?" Joel asked quietly, the other detectives watching him curiously.
"I've seen one of these before." The sentinel pointed to the picture of a small painted stone lying against a doorframe. When he spoke, it was hesitantly. "Back when I was in Peru, that kind of stone marked forbidden areas. Even the soldiers learned pretty quickly not to touch the things or to go into places marked with them."
"I was talking to Earl Gaines this morning and he had one like that. They've been showing up all over Cascade." Henri Brown shook his head in confusion. "Earl says that the gangs are convinced that there's a new gang in town and those are their markers. Anyone who messes with them ends up hurt."
Simon nodded. "I'll put a call in to the Gangs Unit to see if they can give us any information about the stones."
"I found one in or each of the bodies from the foundry." Dan spoke up. He frowned thoughtfully and added, "I found something like them worn around each of the kids in the overturned boat, too. But there wasn't anything like either kind on or in the one from the museum."
"Well, that makes it pretty firm that we've had two sets cult murders so far and we already knew they were. The third… well, it might just be coincidence, but I doubt it. Dan, could you go over the autopsies on the other cases and check Mark's work – see if he missed something?" The pathologist nodded grimly. Simon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then he looked around, coming to a decision. "I'm going to need all of you to put in a lot of overtime until we can stop these killers. This is going to be a long hard case, people. We've managed to get some information on the group behind the murders and I'm afraid we're going to find a lot more bodies before this is over. From what little we've managed to gather, the Children of the Sun, as they are called, are an especially dangerous and elusive cult. This is the first time they've struck in the United States. They've struck in other places and once they move in, they won't be moving out – until they're done and ready to move on their own. Ellison has copies of all the information our sources have been able to get us. I don't want any rumors about the PD having anything on the killers. Not a single word." The detectives looked at each other uneasily. "When the feds get here, you say nothing, refer them to me, or Ellison."
The moment Simon said Ellison's name the rest of Major Crimes relaxed. They knew the sources the top detective used were often classified and sometimes it was dangerous to just know the sources existed. They wouldn't say anything to the FBI agents about Jim's ability to get information.
"Joel, I want you and Grayson to meet the FBI, their flight arrives this afternoon. Meet them there, take them to the site." Simon began rapping out orders. "MacArthur, you and the bumble twins canvas the area around the foundry, see if you find any more of those stone."
"Whatever you do, don't touch them." Ellison spoke up quietly. "That would make you a target of the cult."
"Oh, no." Serena murmured. "I sent Cassie to bag them and bring them in."
"I'm on it." Felicia
Jean Sanders was out the door before anyone could argue. As she grabbed her coat, she pulled her cell
phone from its holster at her waist and dialed a number.
The detectives looked at each other uneasily before turning their gazes back to Captain Banks. The dark skinned man frowned, turning his attention back to the notes in front of him. "MacArthur, Clouddancer, Sanjima, be very careful around those things. If you see anything out of the ordinary, call it in and get your asses back here. I don't want any dead detectives. Ellison, see if Sandburg can come in and look at these pictures. He might be able to give us some information on the cult. Connor – I want you at the museum with Fortaleza, see if she's found anything out of place and keep Wells away from her. I don't want dean calling the mayor again."
"If we can figure out where the Children of the Sun have planted their markers, we might be able to figure out their territory." Rafe mused aloud. He thought about Kyrie's map. If he could get a copy of it, that would help. "H and I could check with Gaines—"
"Earl would be glad to have someone else take on this one. The gangs are getting really restless because of them." Henri put in. The fact that Brian had included him in talking to Gaines was a good sign.
Simon nodded and looked around the room. "The rest of you, I want you to go over every bit information we've got. I want nothing missed."
As everyone began filing out of the room, Brian hung back and went to Dan Wolfe. "Dan?"
"What's up, Rafe?" The forensic pathologist was carefully putting his notes away.
"Have you gotten an id on the body from the museum?"
There was a catch in the young man's voice that made Dan look up. He wasn't sure what he saw in the hazel eyes, but it warned him of trouble. "No, why?"
"I might have an idea. Can I bring someone down to the morgue this afternoon?" Rafe's voice was hesitant.
"Relative?"
"Maybe." The younger man shrugged. "If I can get her to come in the door… we'll see."
"I promise not bite." Dan joked gently.
"I'll tell her that." Rafe replied, looking around and noticing that Ellison had already left and H was waiting for him. Well, he'd talk to Ellison later.
§§§§§§
The Etterman Wing, Cascade Museum
Blair Sandburg straightened with a groan. His knees were about worn out from the painstaking work of separating artifacts. He looked around the hall; pleased with the sheer amount of work the students had managed to get done.
The torn display dividers were gone, removed by the bevy of workers. In their place, temporary rope and post railings separated the displays. AJ's meticulous photographs of the original displays were mounted on poster board and set on easels for easy reference. The best and brightest anthropology students were in the process of recreating the displays.
Her photography students were carefully observing the activities – not a single item was moved before it was photographed. There was a silent competition between the archeology students – lured into volunteering with the promise of extra credit and letters of commendation – and the photojournalism students. Each group knew the other didn't have any idea how to properly document the work being done, and each planned on proving it. The stack of meticulously documented grid sheets and labeled film canisters was impressive.
"So how are you going to reset the guy wires?" A student asked curiously from a nearby display.
Blair wrinkled his nose thoughtfully and looked around the area. Even with all of the pedestals and false walls moved, the scaffolding that AJ had used before was not going to fit into the area. Thoughtfully he looked up at the ceiling. He couldn't remember if this area had easy access or not.
"I'm not sure." He admitted. "Did you ask Ms. Fortaleza?"
"I haven't seen her in a while." The young man replied as he carefully placed a delicate statue into a cushioned box. He wrote out a label and affixed it to the side before sliding the box onto a rolling cart. "She told me to finish boxing these – they're all damaged and need repairs. That was about an hour ago."
The anthropologist nodded as he began scanning the area, looking for her. He wasn't worried about her getting into trouble. After all, Tony and Jacob were keeping an eye on her. Blair had to fight off a satisfied grin – that had to be his greatest idea to date. The two football players were among his best students and when he'd told them where AJ came from they'd been fascinated. It hadn't taken much to get them to agree that the anthropologist-cum-photojournalist was going to need someone in her corner. Even better, both young men had decided she was almost perfect after her photo essay about the football team – comparing the group to a set of mythical warriors battling for the an eternal prize. Rafe's comments about AJ's personal on-campus security team had him tickled. The two boys had cornered Rafe privately, advising him to be very careful with the young woman or the team would be very upset.
When they arrived at the museum leading the clean-up volunteers, Blair had taken them aside. Quickly explaining AJ's concussion (and convincing the two that Rafe had nothing to do with it), he'd outlined what he needed them to do. Jacob had grinned evilly and muttered that with five sisters he knew how to handle a grouchy female. Tony had nodded and disappeared to find Fortaleza. It wasn't too long after that Blair had seen Jacob coaxing her into taking some painkillers. The vaguely harassed look on her face as she downed the soda while reading over the plans Tony was gesturing to was worth the effort of convincing the two friends to help him handle her.
Now all he had to do was find one or the other of them and he'd find Fortaleza. He let his eyes skim over the groups of students. Some were cataloging the artifacts. Others were boxing damaged ones. The archeologists and photographers – turning the exhibit hall into a learning tool while making sure nothing was overlooked, recorded every move the groups made. But he didn't see them anywhere. That left the one area he couldn't see.
Blair moved farther down the hall, stopping to answer questions on his way. Off to the side was a set of plain brown barricades. They surrounded the Aztec diorama, keeping the students, museum workers, and various other volunteers out of the area. For further protection against the morbidly curious, uniformed Cascade police officers stood close to the only possible entrance to the barricaded diorama.
"Sandburg." One of the officers acknowledged his presence with a nod.
"Hi, John. Anyone give you any trouble?"
"Nope. That lady who was driving Ellison up the wall told them to leave us alone or else she'd fail them all." The patrolman grinned. He and his partner were enjoying their assignment. First they got to watch some kid jump all over Ellison (not that they'd understood a word she said mind you). Then they got to watch her bully the two Major Crimes detectives into helping her put up the barricades. She'd made them a little late for some meeting too. And finally, they were allowed to settle in comfortably and watch the observer in his own element – an amazing sight as he delegated, ordered, explained, and generally kept things moving. The two officers were certain few people would believe them if they told, so they'd borrowed a photography student and asked him to get lots of photos of the scene.
"Seen AJ?" Blair asked, unaware of the photographer shadowing his footsteps.
"Yeah. She and her two jocks went out the side exit with some museum people." John replied, pointing to the 'Museum Employees Only' door nearby.
"She say where she was going?"
"No. The boys were arguing that she shouldn't be climbing, though."
Blair swallowed thickly and looked up in time to see a piece of the ceiling move. A hatch came open and a rope fell, uncoiling slowly until it hit the floor next to the Yanamamo display. His eyes widened in dismay as he watched AJ and one of the museum techs carefully settle themselves onto one of the steel girders that extended across the hall.
They quickly attached lines to special anchor bolts in the ceiling before handing them back through the open hatch. A moment later, a familiar pair of students joined them, while others peered down from the hatch. AJ and the tech began efficiently and expertly explaining how they were to connect the cables to the anchor bolts. The young woman moved confidently along the girder, lowering coils of rope and thin metal cable onto it. She pointed out where the coils needed to be and the groups of anchor bolts that each person was assigned, all without ever looking down.
"Jim is gonna kill her." Blair whispered, watching as several coils of cable and rope were carefully lowered to her. "And I'm gonna help him."
He couldn't see a safety line attached to the harness wrapped around her waist and he knew how dangerous that could be – especially with a concussion. Before he could move towards the stairway door, Jacob reached out and snagged her hand, keeping her from leaving the group. With a deft move, he unsnapped the second safety line connected to his harness and connected it to hers. From the way she turned on him, Blair knew she wasn't happy with the restriction, but she didn't remove it.
One by one, several other students and workers lowered themselves onto the main girder. They quickly formed into groups of three and got to work. Each took a coil of either rope or cable and began slowly moving out over the displays. The two Blair had set to watching AJ refused to let her carry anything as they followed her along one of the beams.
"Sandburg?" Jim's voice startled the anthropologist. Blair turned around, a feral grin on his face as he pointed to the figures moving above them. The sentinel's eyes narrowed as he stared at them. "I'm going to hurt her."
"I thought she'd try something," Blair's chuckle and gleaming eyes betrayed his amusement at the whole situation. Oh, yeah, both the sentinel and the guide were going to get back at the girl. Sooner or later. "So I called a couple of her photography students and told them about her concussion. Neither one has left her side all morning and they insisted that she wear a rope up there. I don't think she likes that very much."
"Good job, Sandburg." Jim replied thoughtfully, his eyes still on the figures crossing overhead. The moment AJ stopped moving, he let out a trilling birdcall. At Blair's raised eyebrows, the older man shrugged. He spoke quietly once he knew he had her attention. "Hamuy[1], sagrada. We need to talk."
Instead of returning along the girder, the young woman unclipped her harness from the safety line. She quickly took one of the coiled cables from Josh, attached it to an anchor bolt, and tossed it over the side. Then she clipped her harness to the cable and kicked off the girder, rappelling down rapidly.
"Fortaleza! Slow down." The sentinel growled softly but menacingly. She paused for a long moment before resuming her descent, much slower. When she landed a few feet from them, Jim shook his head. "Do you have any idea how stupid and dangerous that was?"
AJ looked from sentinel to guide, confusion written all over her face. When she finally spoke, her accent was thick, her words puzzled. "But I always climb--"
"Not with class three concussion you don't. The doctors only let you out because I promised to make sure you took it easy." The detective glared at her furiously. "Working up on the girders, rappelling, driving – they're all off limits for at least a week."
"Oh." The green eyes frowned. She looked from detective to anthropologist and back. "But I'm fine. I've had concussions before, why shouldn't I work?"
Blair rolled his eyes at the baffled look on her face. He was watching his sentinel's reaction and knew what was coming.
"You are not fine. You're hurt. What happens if you get dizzy up there – I don't care that it has happened yet, it could happen." Jim kept his voice down, trying not to get carried away, but he was getting close to losing his temper. "Uma nanywasu?[2]"
"Millanweyaw ashammi." She replied, waving off his glower. "Concussions hurt. That's never meant I couldn't work before."
"You have a moderately severe concussion – one that can cause dizziness or blackouts. If you have either up there… even you won't bounce back from a fall like that." The exaggerated patience in Ellison's words made Blair bite his lip. The sentinel shot his guide a quick look, warning him not to laugh. "Promise me you won't do anymore high wire acts."
AJ frowned at the comment, before slowly nodding. She sighed, yielding the argument. "Very well, Enqueri. If it makes you feel better I promise not to work up there for a week. But that isn't why you came here, is it?"
The detective's head jerked back and his eyes narrowed as he contemplated the woman in front of him. The quiet but obvious argument between them had cleared the area as students and other workers moved to other displays rather than get caught in the crossfire. From the slight tilt of Fortaleza's head he knew she had noticed that and was using her hearing to monitor him – to see if he was about to lie to her. He gave her a feral grin.
"I need to take Blair to the station – but I won't if I think you'll get into trouble." Jim stared off into space thoughtfully. "I can see if Simon can spare someone to keep an eye on things here."
AJ shook her head. "I am in no danger, not now. If they had wanted to hurt me… I'd be dead. If they had wanted a secondary, I'd be gone. Take Sandburg and go."
"Whoa, what if I don't want to leave you?" Blair jumped in. There was no way he was about to let a sentinel and a… what did she call it, sagrada?.. decide for him. "There is too much to do. Why can't you bring the photos here?"
"Orders, Chief. Nothing leaves the station on this one."
"Go with Enqueri, I promise to keep my feet on the floor and not do anything dangerous."
"Yeah, but you don't think dancing on the girders is dangerous." Blair muttered.
"Dancing?"
"Go, before you get me in trouble." AJ shook her head at the two men and grinned. "I promise, no dancing either."
Jim looked at his guide, his eyes questioning. Blair chuckled, knowing the other man would never believe the story anyway. The photographer took that as her cue and turned away, quickly joining a group of students and TA's lifting a false wall into place.
Major Crimes Bull Pen, 11am
"These are at every entrance?" The observer straightened his glasses and peered at the photograph. "I really need to examine one to be sure – but I think it's a guardian stone. They are pretty rare, especially with this kind of marking. So when do I get to see one up close?"
"You won't." The detective's tone was short and hard. The younger man looked up, startled. Before he could ask, Jim continued. "Don't even think about going over to the foundry and checking them out either. I already warned the others. Anyone seen to touch one of these dies – and they don't die easily."
"You've seen these before?" Blair stared at his friend in shock. South American guardian stones were somewhat related to Celtic wyrd stones, nearly mythic in their rarity. "I mean, these are something I wouldn't think the Chopec used or even came across."
"The Chopec don't use them, Chief." The haunted expression in Jim's eyes made Blair wince. He hadn't meant to drag up any bad memories but it was obvious he had. "Those things mark forbidden areas. Anyone who disturbs them or crosses their boundaries was hunted down and killed for the sacrilege they committed. One of my patrols found that out the hard way. The kid who picked up the pretty little stone was stalked for over two weeks and then they kept him alive for several days before killing him."
"Oh, man." A wave of unease swept over the anthropologist. "We all crossed the line into foundry."
"No. I checked. There were stones at the main entrance, but one of them was missing. When I pulled the Deuces' statement, one of them mentioned that the missing teen, Carlos, had picked something up at the entrance." The detective looked at the file in front of him. "We didn't break the line, it was gone when the police arrived."
"What about the rest of the markers?" Blair asked.
"I don't know about them… as long as we leave them alone, I think we're okay." The sentinel looked at his guide. "Just stay away from the foundry and leave those things alone."
Blair stared at his friend's unyielding expression and decided to drop the subject. He would ask for more information later. When Jim was relaxed and more likely to explain what was going on. And if that didn't work, he'd ask Henri and Rafe about the early morning meeting. He knew something had happened there that was upsetting his sentinel and he was going to get to the bottom of it.
"Hey, Ellison?" The familiar Texas drawl of Felicia Jean interrupted the two men. "Is Ms. Wells always so… antisocial and preachy?"
Both men began chuckling at the disgusted look on the young woman's face. Jim raised his eyebrow, "Why? Didn't like you coming after her?"
"She didn't like being ordered out of the foundry. From all a' her screeching you'd a thought I was draggin' her by the ear. Then she fussed all the way to the Museum." The woman tossed her coat on her chair unhappily. She paused a moment before turning toward the door with an empty coffee mug in her hand. "Iffen Ah eveh volunteah to help that woman again, would one of you please hog tie me?"
"Sure thing." Ellison replied, shoulders shaking with mirth. No one had considered the idea that that Felicia Jean might not know Cassie. It wasn't like the forensics technician spent much time in Major Crimes any more. Simon had straightened that out after the problems with Chapel and the University dig – Cassie stayed in her own department unless delivering her reports.
"Felicia Jean?" Blair asked, eyes worried. "Um, where is Cassie? You didn't leave her at the museum, did you?"
"Heck, no. Should have." The detective grinned maliciously. Her voice
turned hard. "That woman picked the
wrong person to yell at and got herself tossed out the door. They told her
never to come back – not even to buy a ticket 'cause she weren't coming inside
the building."
"What did she do?" Blair asked as shot Jim a sharp look. The sentinel stiffened, his full attention on the other detective. This was beyond what they had expected and it didn't sound good.
"She started pitchin' a fit about 'contamination of the
scene' and 'theft and graft'. The lady
in charge of the exhibit told her to leave and Ms. Wells lost it." The amusement in Felicia Jean's eyes died. Her words calmed and the Texas drawl
thinned. "It got real strange
then. Ms. Wells knocked over one of the
boys, tripped him or something. One of
the clay pieces broke… dust went everywhere.
Wells' asthma started up – real bad too. Before I could move the museum lady had Wells on the floor and
her inhaler outta her purse. Said
something real creepy… said she didn't want Ms. Wells' death on her shoulders
an' told her to keep her inhaler on a string around her neck where she could
always reach it. Then she told her to leave and not come back. Said she didn't like having people with
death marks around her. Security showed
up 'bout then and escorted us out of the exhibit. Told Ms. Wells not to come to the exhibit since the owner
objected and 'cause she destroyed a priceless artifact."
"Fortaleza said that?" Jim's eyes were thoughtful and worried.
"Is Cassie okay?" Blair asked at the same time.
"Yeah, but from what she said she's not a happy woman." Bright blue eyes turned to Jim. "Fortaleza the little lady's name? Yeah, she said that. She looked a little rocky after that so Megan stayed there."
"Good." Jim replied tersely. "I'll check on her later."
Felicia Jean stared at the senior detective as he turned back to the paperwork on his desk. She wasn't too sure, but she thought she'd just seen a crack in the proverbial Ellison armor. Blair grinned at her and turned his attention back to the photographs he was studying. She shrugged and headed for the break room. She really needed some coffee.
~^~^~^~
"So, what do you think?" Brian Rafe asked his partner as they stepped into the Major Crimes bullpen.
"Don't know about some of the things Earl is claiming, bro." Henri looked uncomfortable. "I don't believe in magic or psychics or any of that stuff. It's all hooey."
Rafe nodded, carefully masking his reaction to the words. He knew his partner well. Well enough to expect this response to the claims of the others. He wasn't happy about it but he knew better than to try to change his friend. He would have to remind himself to avoid certain subjects around his partner. That was going to be hard, especially now.
"Aw, no, Rafe." H stared at his partner, eyes wide as he noticed the expression in the younger man's eyes. "Please tell me you don't believe all that mumbo-jumbo stuff Earl was telling us."
"I saw some pretty strange stuff in South Africa, H." Rafe replied quietly. He turned his footsteps toward Ellison's desk. "I've seen stranger stuff here."
"Hey, Rafe, H." Blair greeted them enthusiastically. He eyes the brown paper bag in Rafe's hand. "Whatcha got?"
The young detective grinned and pulled out a collection of evidence bags. Each one held a heavily carved and painted stone. "Earl's been collecting these things, thought they were some kind of territory marker. He said we could keep them as long as we need."
"There's more than one type of guardian stone here." Sandburg reverently held the first bag up to the light, his eyes wide as he stared at the pale stone. One by one he lifted them to the light, staring at the markings in awe. "I might be able to decipher one or two of these, but they're not my specialty. Maybe AJ could tell you about them."
Jim cautiously picked up one of the evidence bags. He grimaced and dropped it onto the desk, wiping his fingers surreptitiously on his chinos. "These things stay here, chief. No way they're leaving."
"He's right, Hairboy." Brown smiled ruefully. "Simon's orders. Nothing in connection with this case leaves the station."
"Huh?" Blair looked from one detective to another. H shook his head, chuckling as he went to answer his phone. The observer turned his attention to the two remaining detectives. "Since when – I mean the university has people who we can consult on this."
"Not this time. No files, no pictures, no evidence leaves Major Crimes." Jim straightened his notes. "Part of it's because we don't want any copycats and part of it is that the Feds are arriving tonight. We don't want any problems over this case."
Blair nodded his understanding. He might not agree with Simon's decision but he wasn't about to argue. The Feds made life a bit harder to handle and Major Crimes wasn't going to do anything to make it worse. He turned his attention back to Rafe and saw the pensive look on his face. "What's up, man? Something wrong?"
"How do the tribes in South America adopt new members?" Brian's pale hazel eyes were distant.
"Um, do you mean adults or children?" The anthropologist asked, not quite sure where this question was going. Behind him, he heard Jim's computer keyboard go silent and knew the sentinel was watching them.
"Adult."
"Well, they're usually hosted by someone for a while… usually by an important member of the tribe. Then, they are formally introduced to the shaman or the chief. Once the shaman or the chief gives his approval, the person is adopted into the host's family." Blair looked up at Rafe, curious about the whole thing. "The adoptee always has references or a good reason for changing tribes. Once adopted, the new family introduces the new member to the rest of the tribe by their new name."
"Why are you asking?" Jim's quiet question startled them both.
"I'm trying to make sense of something Kyrie said this morning." The detective looked at the pile of evidence bags. "She's pretty convinced she on her own against the cult and I don't understand why."
"What do you mean?" The sentinel stood, coming close to the other man. "And why is it bothering you so much?"
"She's pretty convinced that she has no back up, no support, and worst of all, no one she can turn to here in Cascade. She doesn't really think she's going to make it out alive against the cult." Brian's pain filled eyes speared Jim's ice-blue eyes. He forced himself to keep his voice low and calm. "From what she said, she considers herself expendable and you do too. Something about it being her duty."
"No way!" Blair's voice caught the attention of several officers. Jim's fierce scowl made them turn back to their paperwork. "We're her friends and more importantly, she's Jim's little sister."
"One thing at a time, Sandburg." The tightly clenched muscle in Jim's jaw was practically spasming from the force of his thoughts. "We've known she is my adopted sister, Hidalga, for almost a month now. And we haven't done anything about that. We've let her isolate herself from the tribe."
"That's not the point Jim. She's the one who refused all of our invites to meet people." Blair responded quietly. "Let her? How long did you have to argue to get her to agree to check in on a regular basis? And the only reason she shows up on Sundays for breakfast after mass is that you wouldn't take no for an answer."
"She doesn't trust you." The words slipped past Rafe's guard and he froze at the sudden glare Ellison shot his way.
"Explain that."
Rafe swallowed thickly, wondering how to explain what he'd figured out on his own. "I don't think she trusts anyone, Jim." At the raised eyebrow, he knew the older detective wanted the truth. "She thinks you only tolerate her because of an obligation to the Chopec. If you hadn't made that promise to their shaman, she thinks you would keep her as far away from Sandburg as you could… and she thinks that you should. As far as she's concerned you are her debt, not her friends and not her family."
"That doesn't make any sense." Blair shook his head in confusion.
"Yes, it does." Jim swept the files into a drawer, locked it, and stood. "Stay here with Rafe, Chief. I'm going to talk to Fortaleza. We'll be here in time for a late lunch."
"You're bringing her here?" The two men stared at the senior detective in disbelief.
"Yep." The ice-cold smile on Ellison's face made them flinch. "I've been neglecting the duty of being her only uh-tura. I think it's about time I went and took care of my responsibility. Don't you?" The detective grabbed his coat and left.
Rafe turned to Sandburg, puzzled. "Did you understand that?"
"I think he said he was going to do his duty, get his sister, bring her here, and introduce her to his friends." Blair replied, eyes wide. "She's not going to like it."
"I think we'd better keep an eye on them."
"Agreed."
The two young men raced out of the bullpen, ignoring the startled expressions they received from the detectives and officers around them.
Museum of Natural History, Etterman Wing.
"Dr. Houseman?" Jim spoke softly enough not to startle the archeology professor.
"Ah, Detective Ellison, what can I do for you?" The spritely older lady smiled happily at him. He knew the only reason she wasn't out in the field was her health – her mind and her interests hadn't dimmed with age. "Isn't this wonderful? Just like an archeology dig, only in my back yard."
"How would you like to be in charge of it for the rest of the afternoon?" Jim saw the startled, hopeful look and smiled. "Alessandre needs to get some rest. If the docs knew I let her get away with this much work, they'd sedate her and make her stay at the hospital."
"She was hurt? But she said she was fine." The keen brown eyes widened as they caught the rest of the information Jim had let 'slip'. "You know her personally?"
"She's my little sister." Jim admitted, looking up in time to see AJ's wide-eyed gaze. From her expression, she was listening in avidly and had been since the moment Jim uttered her name.
"But her name—"
"Half-sister, full-blooded sister, does it really make a difference?" Jim purred at the woman. He knew from listening to her debate with others in her department that her opinion of the subject matched his own. If they shared blood they were family. "She has a pretty bad concussion, but she doesn't want to leave because she can't leave the exhibit without someone knowledgeable in charge."
"I'll do it." The woman smiled happily. "It'll give me something to do besides teach the senior seminar the dean lets me keep."
"Thank you." Jim managed to say before AJ stalked past. He snagged her wrist. "Ready to go?"
"I'm not leaving." The young woman hissed at him.
"Hamuy." The flat steel
edge in his voice made her look up at him rebelliously. "You've put in more than enough time. Even
Dr. Houseman can see the headache you've got.
Sayk'usqa kanki, pisi pana.[3]
Sama-na-yki.[4]"
The young woman reluctantly nodded. "If you need to reach me," she looked at Jim and he nodded, handing Dr. Houseman his card. "I'll be with him."
"Is he really your brother, child?" The soft worried question made Fortaleza smile.
"Unfortunately. And that means he thinks he can tell me what to do." She reassured the older woman before following the sentinel to the exit. There she quickly signed out, leaving both her cell phone number and Jim's.
She waited until they were on the museum steps before asking him where they were going. Jim kept an eye on her as he replied. "Don't you think it's time I introduced you to my tribe?"
The look of sheer shock that crossed her face was unexpected. He barely caught up to her as she turned and raced for the edge of the terrace. Clinging to the railing, she leaned over it, loosing what little she had in her stomach.
"That bad?" The sentinel watched her, all of his senses trying to make sense of her reaction. He knew it wasn't just because she was afraid of the police uniform.
"I am of the tribe, but no one ever introduces me… that makes me one of its members." Wide panicked silver-green eyes looked at him in disbelief. "I learn who they are and they learn who I am without introductions. I'm one of the Walks Through People, I belong to many tribes without being part of them."
"You are my sister." There was no softness in Jim's voice. "You are part of my tribe. You get introduced to the rest of them. That's my responsibility and I mean to take care of it. Can you handle going into the station?"
Slowly, she straightened, eyes still staring at him. AJ's lips were a tight line, her face bloodless, her fists clenched. Whatever she saw in the tall man's expression reassured her and she let him help her stand. Finally, she nodded. "I think so."
"I'll be right there, beside you."
"Promise?" For a moment, AJ's voice was as soft as that of a little child's.
"I promise." Jim whispered his promise, determined to keep it.
End chapter 11.
Title Page
Chapter 12
Comments?
[1] Hamuy Come here.
[2] Uma naywasu? Does your head hurt?
[3] Sayk'usqa kanki, pisi pana. You are tired, little sister.
[4] Sama-na-yki. You need(must) to rest.
