Chapter nine

Dawn was just beginning to tint the sky with a rosy hue as Jim, Simon and Patton settled themselves in behind a pile of rocks on the outer edge of the baseball field in Thorne Ryder Park. Out of sight of the various access roads leading to the park, Patton had assigned various agents and the Cascade detectives to different vehicles. Although in radio contact he'd forbidden them to make contact except for emergencies. Everyone was on edge not knowing what was going to happen.

"Tell me what you can see," whispered Patton.

Jim smiled tiredly. The agent had a pair of binoculars and was probably able to see just as well as he. "Nothing," he replied. "And you?"

Patton didn't answer and continued to peruse the area.

"I can't hear anything either," Jim continued, "except the usual sounds of birds, insects and the acid in your stomach from too much coffee. And the only smells I'm getting are your aftershave, Simon's cigars and that somewhere near here there's a dead animal."

The agent started and lowered his binoculars to look at him.

"And believe me, it is an animal," the detective jumped in before he could say anything. "I can smell the decay."

Simon didn't miss the speculative look the man gave Jim. If he'd read the agent correctly he didn't think the information regarding Ellison's senses would go any further. However, he wasn't omniscient when it came to reading people. Look how he'd got it totally wrong when he'd first met Sandburg!

"Unit 1, report," Patton spoke quietly into his radio.

"Nothing moving here," came the loud, crackly voice in reply. He quickly turned down the volume.

Jim winced and dialled back his hearing. "Warn me next time, please."

"Uh, sorry. Unit 2, anything?"

"No sign of any vehicles approaching." He got the same information from all his agents and he was getting worried. It was nearing the meeting time and he'd thought that there would have been at least one kidnapper keeping an eye on the proceedings. To say he wasn't happy was putting it mildly.

Suddenly the radio crackled. "Unit 3 here. Vehicle approaching park entrance."

All three men turned their heads as one towards the road leading into the area. Sun glinted off two binoculars while Jim concentrated on focussing his vision. After a minute a small, red car pulled in and parked under a tree. The doors opened and Simon realised that he was holding his breath. A second later he sensed Jim beside him deflate and felt like joining him as he watched a young couple climb out of the car. Dressed in running clothes they did a few stretching exercises then set off in a loping run along one of the paths.

"Stand down," Patton growled into the radio. "False alarm."

Jim turned onto his back and let out a long breath. His muscles were tight and aching from holding them rigid for so long. He hated waiting. He was a man of action and all this doubt and hanging around was doing his head in. He wanted to find Blair so badly he could taste it. How could fate be so cruel to have let the man back into his life and then snatch him away again? As much as he knew that he wanted Blair back he also knew that he was going to have to change his behaviour before the younger man would be comfortable with him again. He just wanted a chance to be able to show Blair that he could.

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With his ear pressed up against the metal door, Blair strained to hear any noise. However, everything was silent and it worried him. He pulled his head back and leant his body against the cool metal. Instead of feeling cold as he had earlier he could feel sweat pooling under his arms and in the small of his back and knew that he now had a fever. He'd watched the patch of sunlight work its way across the rocky floor and judged that at least four hours had passed since he'd eaten some of the peanuts. God, what was going on? A cold ball of fear nestled uncomfortably in his stomach. 'Shame it hasn't filled me up!' he groaned to himself.

Truth to say, he was getting worried. No, in fact he'd been worried before, but now he was getting really worried. He'd vaguely heard his kidnappers talking over his head as he'd been lying on the ground coughing his guts out after speaking to Jim. They'd said something about 6 o' clock. He could only assume that it was the time that Jim and/or the others were supposed to give themselves up. Surely four hours was enough for something to have happened and someone to have got back here? Unfortunately, it only fed his fear that he'd been left to die.

Despite being so dehydrated he'd had to urinate at least once. He'd banged on the door and called out, but no-one had come to take him out. In desperation he'd dragged himself to a far corner and had peed there. With the increase in temperature as the day progressed the smell was becoming more pungent and wasn't helping his nausea. Feeling his stomach roil again he turned and once more banged on the door. "Hey! Anyone there? Please, let me out."

His hand slipped down to his side and his body followed it onto the floor. "Please," he whispered, "I don't want to die here all alone. Hell, I don't want to die anywhere." He shivered as his fever rose. Clasping the rain slicker that he'd removed earlier when he'd felt hot, he clumsily pulled it over himself. Tucking his hands under his armpits in an effort to get warm again, he squeezed his eyes tight. He gave himself over to the despair he felt and cried tears that his dehydrated body could ill afford. He thought of Jim and really, really hoped that he was looking for him and that he'd forgiven him for all the mistakes he'd made as his friend and partner.

As his fever increased he started singing the song that had been turning round and round his head for the last 24 hours. His cracked voice filled the little space and was absorbed by the stone walls. He tried to ignore what the words were saying, but was afraid that they described both his past and his future.

"Didn't you believe that I have finally turned away?

Didn't you, now? Didn't you?

Anything to hold onto to help me through my day.

Didn't you, now? Didn't you?

Jesus loves me fine.

But his words fall flat this time.

It's a long, long, long road

And I don't know which way to go.

If you offered me your world, did you think I'd really stay?

If you offered me the heavens, I would have to turn away.

Was it my imagination, or did I hear you say,

"We don't have a prayer between us."

Didn't you, now? Didn't you, now?

Didn't you?"

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"Nothing," Jim whispered as his sat staring out of the hotel lounge's windows.

"What was that?" Joel, who was sitting next to him, asked.

"Nothing," Jim spoke louder. "We waited for hours and there was nothing!" His voice rose, as did his agitation. "No kidnappers. No Blair. Nothing!"

After waiting for another two hours the discouraged agents and detectives made their way back to the hotel. In all that time there hadn't been even the slightest hint of the kidnappers. They were all beginning to think that it had been a ruse of some kind. After another task force meeting and a quick lunch provided by the hotel Jim had taken his coffee out into the lounge in an effort to clear his head. Joel had followed him ten minutes later.

"Maybe we scared them off," suggested Joel.

"No, I don't think so. I think they never intended to show up. All access roads to the site had been under surveillance a good few hours before we arrived. There'd been no sight nor sound of them."

"So, what was their plan?"

"I don't know. God, I simply don't know. But all I do know is that we have to find Sandburg soon."

Both men looked up when they heard Patton and Banks, in full discussion, walk towards them followed by Megan. They stopped in front of their position.

"Okay, Brown and Rafe are with the PD seeing if they can find Escobar's men or the local man, Brown," Simon explained.

Patton nodded his head slightly and continued the report. "Local PD's been keeping an eye on Brown's home and known haunts, but no-one's seen him for a while."

Jim ground his teeth in frustration. Megan, noticing, sat next to him and put a hand on his arm. "We'll find him," she whispered. "Or more likely, Sandy'll get out all on his own. You know how resourceful he is."

He gave her a small smile and was going to say something when Banks' phone rang. The captain stood up and walked a little distance away from the group. A few minutes later he signalled to Patton who was talking to another agent. Looking at his face the detectives stopped talking and looked at him questioningly as he hung up.

"That was Rafe. Two bodies were found in an abandoned unit at an industrial estate. They'd been shot in the back of the head execution style. It's highly likely that one of the bodies is that of Aloysius Brown."

"Oh, God!" Megan put a hand over her mouth.

Jim buried his face in his hands.

Just then Agent Goodson poked his head out of the conference door. "Patton," he called once he'd spotted him, "Sheridan PD on the phone."

The Cascade group followed him into the conference room and clustered around the phone Patton was speaking into. The agent glanced up at them. "Hold on a moment, Sheriff," he spoke into the phone, "I'm putting you on speaker."

"…problem." The tinny voice echoed out of the phone.

"Could you repeat what you've just said to me, please?"

"Right. It's definitely Brown and his buddy in drink and crime Eddie Simmons. Simmons was also known to us for his numerous visits to our county prison. Usual stuff: DUI, aggravated assault, fighting, theft and so on. We suspected he was with Brown in this. They were big game hunters and knew these mountains pretty well. Simmons had a car and we're looking for it now. As far as we know Brown was without transport."

"But nothing on them to give us a hint of where they've been?"

"Sorry, nothing. Forensics is going over them now."

"Uh, hello, Sheriff? Captain Banks, Washington Major Crimes, here."

"Hi. It was your man we think Brown and Simmons took, right?"

"Yes. We appreciate all that you and your men are doing to help us in this."

"Hey, no problem."

"You say the bodies haven't been moved yet?"

"No, but it won't be long."

"Would you mind keeping them in situ until we can get there?"

"Uh, how will that help?"

"Sheriff Black, would you just hold a moment?" Patton interrupted the conversation and muted the phone cutting off the local man. He rounded on Banks. "Why do you want to see the bodies?"

"So Jim can do his stuff," he replied quietly.

"But forensics…"

"Can forensics pick up smells?" Jim interrupted in a low, forceful voice. "Can they taste car exhaust? Can they say what's in the soil just by rubbing it between their fingers?"

Patton looked at him startled. "You can do all that?" he asked amazed.

"That and more. But I need to get to the bodies quickly."

"I had no idea how sensitive your senses can be. Okay, you're on." He un-muted the phone, "Sheriff, sorry for that."

"No harm done."

"Expect us there in ten minutes and please don't move the bodies."

"If that's what you really want." He obviously felt that they were crazy, but wasn't going to push it.

Fifteen minutes later Patton, Ellison and Banks were standing before two bodies that were lying amongst piles of rubbish in an old, dirty warehouse. One man was on his back, his forehead had a massive hole in it where the bullet had exited and his half-opened eyes were staring up at the ceiling. The other was half on his side showing the small hole in the back of his head. Flies were buzzing about them and in the heat the smell of urine, faeces and blood was overpowering.

Jim moved closer and for a moment dialled back his smell. Focussing closely, he carefully went over every inch of the bodies. He paid close attention to the boots and finger nails where dirt could be seen. First he smelt it, rubbed it between his fingers then put a small amount on his tongue. Inspecting it closely with his eyes he could see tiny flecks of some shiny stone. Standing up he dialled up his smell more and tried to filter out all the odours that he knew to expect at the scene. Unfortunately, he was finding it difficult and his eyes watered as his nose was assaulted.

Simon saw what was happening and moved over to put his hand on his arm. "Jim, do you need to take a break?" he asked quietly.

"Just wait a second." Taking a few shallow breaths he nodded at his captain and breathed in deeply again.

Patton, standing a few metres away was avidly watching the proceedings. Much to the disgust of the local PD and the FBI's forensics team, he'd cleared everyone out. He was fascinated by what Ellison could do and couldn't understand why he wanted to keep his talents secret. He was imagining how such advantages could help any law-enforcing agency. Suddenly, the detective reared back with a groan. Banks jerked him back and turned him away from the bodies. Patton was surprised to see tears streaming down Ellison's face. "What's up? What's happened?"

"One second," Banks brusquely brushed him off. "Jim, dial it down. Remember what Sandburg taught you."

The man was gasping for breath and rubbing his eyes with his left forearm. Patton took a step forward, but Banks waved him off again. "Jim, Jim, listen to me, feel my hand on your arm. Feel its warmth, feel how the breeze coming though those doors is blowing across your face and listen to my voice." He kept up his litany until the other man sighed and turned his reddened eyes towards him.

"Thanks, Simon. That was a doozy."

"How are you feeling now?"

"Better thanks."

"Did you get anything?"

"I think so. I need to process it first though."

Simon didn't fail to notice the words he used, but didn't mention it to Jim. It wouldn't help at this to remind him of the person they were desperately trying to find. "Okay, go and get some water. We'll be out in a minute." He watched as the man walked out of the warehouse and then when he was certain he was out of Sentinel hearing turned to Patton. "What just happened is why we don't want Jim's abilities to be public knowledge," he said quietly.

"What did just happen?"

"He can get lost in one sense. It can overwhelm him and he needs help to bring it back under control by focussing on something else."

"And every criminal would be playing on that and his life as a cop would be over, right?"

"Uh huh."

"How has he managed to survive so long?"

"Sandburg. He taught him to control them pretty much. Had he been here, Jim would've been out of that zone much quicker than I managed. Hell, he wouldn't have allowed him to zone in the first place. He's got a way of talking that Jim just seems hardwired to obey."

"So that's why Sandburg was offered a detective's badge?"

"No." They both turned round as Jim walked back in followed by Rafe and H. "Blair was offered a badge because he was a fucking good detective. Something we seemed to have forgotten." He took a long swallow out of the bottle of water he was holding. "This is what I discovered; there are traces of a stone or mineral that has a distinctive texture and colour. I can also smell a plant. I think it's a flower and has an oily feel to it. They've both been riding horses and recently too. Simmons had been in a bar, probably last night, where he'd drunk a large quantity of beer and had eaten barbecued chicken wings.

"Brown had sex last night. With a woman who wears a flower/spicy perfume and whom I think has a baby. I could smell faint traces of baby formula. And both of them had been in contact with Blair fairly recently. Simmons has…" he drew in a breath, "Simmons has traces of blood on his pants. Not much, fortunately. But I think it's Blair's. That's all." He took another swallow from the bottle.

Patton realised his mouth was hanging open and closed it with an audible snap. "That's all?" he finally managed to gasp. He shook his head. "Who needs forensics when you're around?"

Jim grimaced as he heard the echoes of an excited young man wearing a multi-coloured waistcoat. "Yeah, but it can't be used in evidence."

Simon broke in before Patton could say more. "Rafe, Brown, what you got?"

Brown pulled out his notebook. "No vehicle in the vicinity non-accounted for. No witnesses, nothing."

The FBI agent shook himself out his speculations and brought his mind back to present business. "Okay, let's take this outside."

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"Didn't you now, didn't you?" Blair's raspy singing echoed round the bare space. "Well, Jesus…" he broke off as a round of coughing wracked his body. "Uhhhh," he groaned once he'd got his breath back. He wrapped his arms round his chest trying to ease the deep ache there the coughing had aggravated. He shivered as sweat ran down his face and into his eyes making them sting. He could feel the lung infection taking hold and his temperature rising.

Propping himself shakily on one elbow he searched around for the bottle of water. Finding it he tried to calm his trembling enough to prise off the top. He took two large gulps and sighed as the water cooled his raw throat. Blearily he peered at the bottle; just over half remained. Looking up to see where the light from the hole in the roof was he attempted calculating how long since he'd been brought back, but his brain wouldn't co-operate. All he knew was that he'd been singing until his throat ached. He didn't want to stop though; a sore throat was a million times better than the silence and all that represented.

Clutching the bottle to his chest he lay back down. "It's a long, long, *cough, cough* long road *cough, cough*, And I don't *cough, cough* know which way to go *cough, cough*…"