CHAPTER SIX

Jim Brass was on her doorstep, knocking loudly. Iris was stunned. He looked terrible, leaning heavily against the doorframe. His suit was unkempt, his face haggard and unshaved, and he was holding a nearly empty large bottle of whiskey. He was pale and drawn. She quickly opened the door. "Captain Brass?" she said, her voice unsure of itself. Brass was unsteady on his feet, his breath strong with the smell of whiskey, staggered as Iris caught him on one side, keeping him on his feet. "Jim, what's wrong…what's happened?" Iris gasped and then shock realizing she had called him by his first name. She guided him into her living room to sit on the couch and went back to close her front door. She removed the whiskey bottle and threw it in the garbage. As an afterthought, she quickly wet a hand towel and returned to Brass with it. She gently sponged his face off. Jim gripped her hands, his anxious blue eyes searching her own.

"I can't find her," Jim said in a hollow voice. "Called and called; no answer. I even tried calling my ex-wife. My ex-wife who tells me Ellie's not my own daughter. It never mattered. Love her as my own kid. Why won't she let me in? I love her…my daughter, you know? I don't want it to be too late. I don't want to be alone." Brass' voice trailed off as he began to weep, his body becoming wracked by great sobs, such pain being expressed. Iris cradled Jim against her as his waves of sorrow beat against her, rocking him gently as his sobs continued. The revelation of Ellie's background was out of the blue to Iris, but the fact that his love for his not-biological daughter was unwavering only deepened her regard for the detective.

"I'm here, don't worry, I'm always here," Iris said soothingly into his ear. Her own tears came as she wept for him, for the distress he was in, for what she was now acknowledging in her own heart that she had dared not express to anyone; her feelings for Brass while a voice deep in her heart questioned why here and not Catherine's?

Jim had wept to the point of exhaustion and Iris still held him close. He was half conscious as she helped him to his feet and guided him to bed where he could sleep. She helped him to lie down and sat by as his breathing steadied with an occasional soft snore. She held his hand to her lips, amazed that she did so. 'I'll only be gone a little bit', she thought, as she made her mind up.

Brass continued to sleep when Iris returned home. She had found Jim's cell phone on the floor of his car as she reparked it in her driveway. The last number simply said Ellie. She dialed the number from her own cell. She had much work to do and had no idea what the conclusion might be. It didn't matter. Brass was here. If she could help, she would do so.

"Hello," said a young woman's voice, cautious, a little sullen, "who's this and how did you get my number?"

"Ellie? My name's Iris King. I work for the Vegas CSI lab, and I'm a friend of you dad's. Please don't hang up. I'm calling on my own. Can we just talk for a little while? We have some things in common…" Iris began.

He dreamed of Ellie. She was standing at the edge of a cliff above a raging sea. He was trying to reach her. Her dark hair was streaming in the wind. He was so close – his hand so close he could touch hers. She stepped away and disappeared over the edge, the roaring of the waves deafening him.

"Ellie," he cried hoarsely, sitting up, disoriented. His head pounded unmercifully and he lay back groaning. Much to his surprise, he discovered he was clad in only his T-shirt and boxers but not in his own bed. He struggled to recall where he had been. He remembered driving aimlessly, trying over and over to reach Ellie, the brief terse conversation with his ex-wife, and then stopping at a liquor store. After that, it was a blur.

Iris heard Brass cry out for his daughter from the kitchen. She swiftly walked back to the bedroom carrying a small tray – black coffee and dry toast for her guest.

"Morning," she said shyly, setting down the tray on the night table, "here's that cup of coffee I owe you."

Brass was stunned and hurried to cover himself with a sheet. "Iris, I'm so sorry…I don't know how I ended up here…or what may have happened," he stammered.

"No worries. You've been here a few hours sleeping. Your suit's at the cleaners and I'll pick it up later today. In the meantime, I took the liberty of getting you some new clothes and some clean-up items. I was a nurse in the past and was careful about you and your clothes. I noted the tags and used that to get you a shirt, jeans, underwear and sneakers. Scout's honor I took no advantage of you. You're my first houseguest. The coffee and toast will be easy on you to start with. There's also some aspirin for you. When you feel ready, you can take a shower in the hall bathroom." Iris finished.

"Did I say much, guardian angel?" Brass managed to say, totally surprised at all she had just said.

"Whatever was said stays with me," Iris replied. "You've had a pretty rough night, so let not your heart be troubled. I'll be gone for a bit, need to walk my dogs."

Iris walked out to her other bedroom, opening the door as two bloodhounds surged past her. "Hey, Cyrano, Durante, get back here!" Iris grumbled, as they went to Jim, tails wagging, begging to be petted.

Brass reached over to scratch each dog behind the ears and they flopped contentedly to the floor beside the bed. "How is it you have bloodhounds?" asked Jim, interested in seeing another side to his benefactor revealed.

"When I was still in Dallas, these two were being retired from the Dallas County Sheriff Department and needed a home so I volunteered myself," Iris answered. She'd worked a few cases where the dogs had been instrumental in locating evidence and was a dog lover at heart. Iris snapped on their leashes and walked them to the door. "Should be gone about thirty minutes," she said and went out.

Brass slowly drank the coffee and munched on the toast. His headache was lessening a bit after taking the aspirin. He'd never been in this situation before. He'd not really dated since his divorce or affair with Annie Kramer. He'd opted to bury himself in his work with Ellie being his only bright spot. His move to Las Vegas from New Jersey had been a chance for a fresh start. The opportunity to see Annie had been nice but had not gone beyond his seeing her last in a bar for drinks while in LA before his return to Vegas. They had been able to catch up on things at least. Jim swung his legs over the bed and ventured to stand, swaying slightly as his balance steadied, slowly making his way to the bathroom to shower and shave. He found shaving cream and other toiletry articles set up for him in the bathroom. He smiled to himself in spite of the overall situation. He hadn't been seen to like this in a very long while. After shaving and taking a long hot shower, Jim felt more himself as he dressed. Appreciatively, he noted Iris had taken pains to get clothes that fit him well and her taste was good. He was accustomed to the suits he wore on the job and such casual attire was not usual for him. How could he ever repay all this? Brass noted several photos on the walls of her home showing other family members, nieces and nephews with her siblings, according to the captions beneath each picture. Jim even saw one he thought of where Iris was very young with her two brothers and two sisters, seeing a smiling brown-eyed and brown-haired little girl with freckles and upturned nose. No pictures of her with her deceased husband were present anywhere, which struck Brass as out of place.