Jazz examined the thin white card with its stark black printing. "James Ellison, Detective.
Major Crimes Unit." She took a last look around through the scarred acrylic walls
of the pay-phone booth, shivered, then resolutely took the receiver off the hook
and dropped coins into the slot. One cold finger punched in the number, a woman
answered for the Cascade Police department in a pleasant voice, and Jazz asked
for Detective James Ellison.
A moment of music, and then "Ellison." She couldn't speak.
"Detective Ellison. Hello?" The male voice barked.
"Um, hi, detective." Jazz's voice wavered and she took a deep breath. "I'm
calling for a friend of mine, of yours, really. His name is Blair Sandburg?"
Something slammed down hard on the other end of the phone. "Sandburg?
Where is he?"
"He's okay, really, he's fine. There was this..a kind of fight and he got involved.
He got hurt, but he's gonna be okay. We just didn't have time to get him to a
regular doctor.."
"Where is he?!" Jim's stern voice rose and Jazz faltered, almost hanging up.
Normally she avoided cops like the plague, especially angry cops. Steeling
herself, she answered, "He's safe. He's in a safe place, with a good doctor
and people watching out for him."
The soft voice quavered and Jim forced his anger and the fear for his Guide's
well being down. If the woman hung up, he'd lose his only lead. "A doctor
is taking care of him?" he asked carefully. "How badly hurt is he?"
"He sort of...got stabbed, but the guy fell on him, the knife caught him, Blair
I mean, in the side. It was bleeding pretty badly, so we had to get him help
fast. But, I swear, as soon as he can be moved, we'll bring him where ever
he wants to go."
"Miss, who is 'we'?"
The same question Blair had asked, but Jazz didn't trust this cop nearly as
much as her instincts told her to trust the grad student. "My family and I.
That's all. Look, I told Blair I'd call because he was worried about you
being worried about him. He gave me this goofy message for you, okay?
He says he wants tongue for supper his first night back.." And Jazz made
a face at the receiver.
Jim felt a small knot of worry loosen inside him. Okay, Sandburg WAS
alive. But, her Family? Like a cult?"
"I appreciate you calling, Miss, I really do, but I'd feel better if I could
check up on Sandburg myself. If he can't be moved, that's all right, I'll
come to wherever you are. I won't be armed or anything,"
Jazz bit her lip. "I'm really sorry, sir, but..I can't. It's not a bad place, but
it IS a secret, and people are counting on me, on us..I probably shouldn't
have called. They're gonna be so pissed at me..We'll take good care of
your friend, and I'll personally make sure he gets back to where he wants
to go when he's feeling okay. I have to go now.."
"WAIT!" Jim shouted, hearing the finality in her voice, and desperately
added, "Wait, please. Will you call back? Can I have your name, so they
can put you through right away?"
The street girl surprised herself then. "I'll call back." She promised faintly.
The guy sounded frantic, and Blair wouldn't want that. It sounded like they
were pretty good friends. "I promise." and she hung up. Her fingerless
gloves wiped the hard plastic free of any prints that might have lingered,
just in case they had managed to trace the call. She did NOT trust cops,
and this one probably thought she was some loon who had kidnaped
his partner.
Still, when she opened the door, it was another unseasonably
beautiful day, and Jazz didn't let trouble fester in her mind. With a whirl
to watch her patchworked skirt flare out over her knitted leggings and
scuffed boots, she ran off to find some of the other street musicians. It
was early yet, plenty of time to make some music and a few bucks before
dark.
end part four
Major Crimes Unit." She took a last look around through the scarred acrylic walls
of the pay-phone booth, shivered, then resolutely took the receiver off the hook
and dropped coins into the slot. One cold finger punched in the number, a woman
answered for the Cascade Police department in a pleasant voice, and Jazz asked
for Detective James Ellison.
A moment of music, and then "Ellison." She couldn't speak.
"Detective Ellison. Hello?" The male voice barked.
"Um, hi, detective." Jazz's voice wavered and she took a deep breath. "I'm
calling for a friend of mine, of yours, really. His name is Blair Sandburg?"
Something slammed down hard on the other end of the phone. "Sandburg?
Where is he?"
"He's okay, really, he's fine. There was this..a kind of fight and he got involved.
He got hurt, but he's gonna be okay. We just didn't have time to get him to a
regular doctor.."
"Where is he?!" Jim's stern voice rose and Jazz faltered, almost hanging up.
Normally she avoided cops like the plague, especially angry cops. Steeling
herself, she answered, "He's safe. He's in a safe place, with a good doctor
and people watching out for him."
The soft voice quavered and Jim forced his anger and the fear for his Guide's
well being down. If the woman hung up, he'd lose his only lead. "A doctor
is taking care of him?" he asked carefully. "How badly hurt is he?"
"He sort of...got stabbed, but the guy fell on him, the knife caught him, Blair
I mean, in the side. It was bleeding pretty badly, so we had to get him help
fast. But, I swear, as soon as he can be moved, we'll bring him where ever
he wants to go."
"Miss, who is 'we'?"
The same question Blair had asked, but Jazz didn't trust this cop nearly as
much as her instincts told her to trust the grad student. "My family and I.
That's all. Look, I told Blair I'd call because he was worried about you
being worried about him. He gave me this goofy message for you, okay?
He says he wants tongue for supper his first night back.." And Jazz made
a face at the receiver.
Jim felt a small knot of worry loosen inside him. Okay, Sandburg WAS
alive. But, her Family? Like a cult?"
"I appreciate you calling, Miss, I really do, but I'd feel better if I could
check up on Sandburg myself. If he can't be moved, that's all right, I'll
come to wherever you are. I won't be armed or anything,"
Jazz bit her lip. "I'm really sorry, sir, but..I can't. It's not a bad place, but
it IS a secret, and people are counting on me, on us..I probably shouldn't
have called. They're gonna be so pissed at me..We'll take good care of
your friend, and I'll personally make sure he gets back to where he wants
to go when he's feeling okay. I have to go now.."
"WAIT!" Jim shouted, hearing the finality in her voice, and desperately
added, "Wait, please. Will you call back? Can I have your name, so they
can put you through right away?"
The street girl surprised herself then. "I'll call back." She promised faintly.
The guy sounded frantic, and Blair wouldn't want that. It sounded like they
were pretty good friends. "I promise." and she hung up. Her fingerless
gloves wiped the hard plastic free of any prints that might have lingered,
just in case they had managed to trace the call. She did NOT trust cops,
and this one probably thought she was some loon who had kidnaped
his partner.
Still, when she opened the door, it was another unseasonably
beautiful day, and Jazz didn't let trouble fester in her mind. With a whirl
to watch her patchworked skirt flare out over her knitted leggings and
scuffed boots, she ran off to find some of the other street musicians. It
was early yet, plenty of time to make some music and a few bucks before
dark.
end part four