Cascade, WA
Mid-morning, 10 January
 

Blair stood up, stretching until his back popped, then began gathering his notes for the class he had to sit in on.  The University had been
nice enough after the debacle with his Ph.D. Thesis, even going so far as to let him retain his little office.  After all, he and several other
grad students had pointed out to the University that he hadn't turned his thesis in, it had basically been stolen from him.  They had
reluctantly agreed, allowed him to turn in his 'real' thesis, on the closed society of law enforcement as seen from the inside, and allowed
him back into the program.  He just wasn't allowed to teach, yet. Professor Collins had hinted earlier today that that might be changing
when they had met for coffee in the Student Union's coffee shop. For now, he'd have to sit in and review other Teaching Fellows as they
conducted their classes.  Normally, he would be looking forward to such an assignment, but the class he had to sit in on this morning was Criminal Behavior, a sub class that was recommended, but not required, for students of Psychology; especially the ones considering going on to study Abnormal Behavior.  Sighing, he finished gathering his notes, stuffed them into his backpack, and left his office to head over to a small auditorium halfway between Hargrove Hall and the Student Union.

He was just entering the hall when another student bumped into him, causing his backpack to fall off his shoulder and hit the ground.

"Oh!  I'm so sorry!  I should've been looking where I was going."

Blair picked up the backpack and looked up at his fellow accident victim.  Smiling he replied, "That's okay, Amy.  No damage."

The girl looked at him, recognizing him. "Oh, Mr. Sandburg, I am SO sorry!"

"Like I said, no problem."

"That is the last time I try to read and walk at the same time!"  The girl snapped closed the paperback she had in her hand and placed it on top of the rest of the books she was carrying.

Grinning as he shook his head, Blair led the way up the stairs.  "Just try to be a little more aware of your surroundings, next time.  I used
to do the same thing."  He held the door open for her and a few others that were racing to make classes in the building.

"Thank you," Amy said as she squeezed by him.  She started walking down the hall, and noticed that he seemed to be keeping pace with her. "So, Mr. Sandburg, what brings you to this neck of the Rainier woods?"

"I have to evaluate a TA that's teaching a class here today.  You?"

"Probably taking that class."

"Criminal Behavior?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

They walked for a few more paces, getting closer to the door to the auditorium where the class was to be held.  "So, besides being a library assistant, you're studying Psychology?"

Amy smiled, her face lighting up.  "No, I'm studying Law.  At least for the next year or so."

Blair opened the door for her.  "Then what happens?"

"I apply to the Police Academy.  You can't even apply until you're 21, so I'm taking as many courses as I can that I think will help me out in
the field."  She moved past him, heading for a seat near the front of the room, greeting a few friends as she sat down.

He watched her.  Amy was only about 5'5" tall, and while not exactly 'skinny' she wasn't built like a Mack truck either.  He got this really
vivid image of her in Cascade PD blues, toting a huge gun belt and going up against some of the criminal types he'd seen in his four years of running around with Jim.  There is no way someone like Amy could survive the street, he thought, or is there?  I'm managing it so far.  He found a seat in the back of the class and pulled out a notebook, just as the TA for the class walked in.

Kaitlyn Nakai walked into the auditorium, and glancing to her right, saw Blair Sandburg sitting there, pulling out a notebook.  She stopped and leaned over towards him. " Ya-te-ehy, Belagana.  Changing your major?"

Blair looked up and smiled at the Native American woman.  " Hi, Kat. No, you should know why I'm here."

She reared back, her black hair flying into her face.  She brushed it back. "You?  They sent you to evaluate me?  Man, Kokepelli must be
laughing at me right now."  She immediately felt sorrow at the way her words must have sounded.  "Blair, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean that."

He shrugged.  "I didn't think that you did."  He opened his notebook and raised an eyebrow in her direction.  " So, you gonna teach today or
should I just pack up and go home, Kat?"

She glanced at her watch.  "Oh, damn!"

He watched as she raced up the aisle towards the front of the auditorium, apologizing to her students.  Sitting back, he started doing
what he did best -- observing.  Kaitlyn Nakai had just completed her Master's last year and was working towards her own Ph.D. in the
relatively new field of Behavioral/Criminal Psychology.  He knew from talking with her from time to time that she was planning on either going to work for the FBI or maybe the Bureau of Indian Affairs as a profiler, that she loved her subject of study, and from observing her
now; that she loved teaching.  He settled in to enjoy the class and watching Kat work her students -- about 20 or so -- into her discussion.

Jim Ellison lay in bed, wondering how his roommate had managed not to wake him up while getting ready for his day.  A glance at the clock on his bedside table had revealed the fact that it was after 10am, about four hours later than he was used to getting out of bed.  As he lay there, he stretched out his hearing and caught the sound of a small 'click' and then the sound of trickling water.  Then his nose picked up the scent.  Blair must've set the coffee maker before heading out. Guess it's time to get out of bed then.

The detective made short work of his morning routine, getting to the kitchen just as the last drop of coffee worked its way from the filter
into the carafe.  Taking a mug down from the cabinet he poured a cup, then noticed that the kitchen was clean.  Spotless.  For once.  He shook his head in amazement as he gathered ingredients to make breakfast for himself.  Eggs, bacon, cheese, no toast this morning.  He made a mental note to stop by the store on the way home to pick up a few things.

Jim pulled into the station's garage at 11:53 am, parked his truck in its usual spot, then headed up to Major Crimes.  He got there, after
taking the stairs, at 11:59.  He was just sitting down at his desk and booting up his computer when Captain Banks wandered into the department.

"Did you get enough rest, Ellison?"  Simon asked as he passed the detective's desk.

"Sure did."

"Good, then you can tackle another case this afternoon."  The Captain continued walking to his office, forcing the other man to follow.

"Another case, Simon?"

"You heard me.  Close the door behind you." Simon went around his desk, sat down and reached for a manila folder he had placed in his 'in' basket earlier.  He pushed it towards Jim.

He closed the door, turned around and saw his Captain pushing a file folder his way.  "That it?"  Jim reached over and picked up the file.

"Yeah, looks like it might be connected to either the Wilkerson Towers robbery or the one at Rainier Library."

"Therefore, I get it."  Jim settled into one of the chairs across from the desk and opened up the file.  He skimmed over it quickly.   A
residential burglary, the complainant a wealthy novelist and City Council member, items taken…  "Oh, hell!"

Simon smirked.  "Just what I said when I saw the list.  Makes one wonder what the hell is up, doesn't it?"

"Just how many copies of that monograph are around?"

"Maybe you should ask Sandburg."

"I intend to, believe me, Simon.  I intend to."

Rainier University
Cascade, Washington
Early afternoon, 10 January

Blair had handed off his notes about Kaitlyn Nakai's class to Professor Collins' secretary then headed for his cramped office.  He couldn't keep official 'office hours,' but he liked to be handy in case one of the Anthropology students had any questions that they wanted to talk to
someone about.  He had just entered the office when the phone on his desk started to ring.  It rang three times before he could drop his pack and locate the phone under a pile of papers.

"Yellow?"

"Chief, got a question for you."

Blair sat down on his desk.  "Sure, Jim.  Go for it."

"Do you know how many copies of Burton's 'Sentinel' monographs there might be?"

He stood up quickly, and reaching slightly, managed to shut his office door.  Satisfied that no one would accidentally overhear, he said, "No. Up until yesterday, I thought mine was maybe one of no more than, maybe, three -- four copies in the world.  Now, why are you asking?"

Jim's sigh was audible. "Because, another one was taken in a residential burglary late last night, early this morning."

"Who? Where? Oh, man, this cannot be happening!"  Blair started to pace, going in a tight oval so as not to get tangled up in the long phone cord.

"Councilman Niksen's home."

"Niksen, Niksen, I should know that name… That's it!  He's the Councilman that's also a mystery writer, under another name?  Something
like Sonny Nix?  Why would he have a copy of the monograph?"

"I'm going to ask him just that when I go over to interview him later."

Blair stopped in his pacing. "Jim?  Where you calling from, the station?"

"Yeah."

"Stay there, wait for me.  I'd like to go with you to Niksen's place. Maybe I can figure out what's going on."  He pulled his backpack to his
chair and unzipped it, taking stuff out that he wouldn't need, and stuffing in other things that he might.

"How soon can you get here? I don't want to wait too long."

"Fifteen minutes, providing the Volvo starts.  It's been giving me fits lately."

Silence on the phone from Jim's end, then, "Chief, stay there.  I'll pick you up in about twenty.  I've got to drive by the university on the
way to Niksen's place anyway."

"Uh, okay.  Can you meet me by the Library?  I want to ask Alice if she's completed the list and a few other things."

"Fine.  See you in a few."

Blair looked at the silent phone, then put the receiver back in its cradle.  Shaking his head, he snatched up his pack and headed out of his
office, locking the door behind him.  He stopped by the office of the Anthropology Department's only secretary.

"Thea, can I bug you a minute?"

The older woman looked up, smiling. "Sure, Blair.  Come on in.  Just let me refile these artifact lists and I'll be right with you."  She turned
back around to face a large bank of filing cabinets, opening several drawers and just dumping the lists into them.  "There, I'll double check
them later."  She turned to face the younger man once again. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"I've got to get over to the Library and you know that I've been kinda sorta, not really, officially been keeping office hours?"  Thea Devon
was not someone to mess with.  The woman might be in her late fifties, but she could and often did, keep up with the youngest students on the campus.

Thea smiled.  "Okay, if anyone comes looking for you I either send them to you or tell them you're 'out', is that about right?"

Blair let loose a huge smile.  "Yeah, just the 'out' part though.  I'll be off campus in about fifteen minutes."

"Hmm.  Must be going off to the police department again.  Okay, you're covered.  Go on, get out of here, I've files I have to double chuck, I
mean check."

Blair zipped around her desk and quickly planted a kiss on the woman's cheek.  "Thanks, Thea.  You're a lifesaver."

Thea chuckled as she turned him around and gently gave him a nudge towards her door.  "That's sweet, Blair.  Now go, before I decide to
keep you."  Her laughter filled the office as she watched him raise his hands in mock surrender and run out of the office.  Shaking her head, she muttered to herself,  "That young man is as big a flirt as I've ever seen.  But I like it."

Alice Gordon had finished the list, and no, she hadn't heard back from her contact with the Burton estate yet.  Yes, she'd ask about the known number of copies of the monographs and notes when he did call back.  And yes, it did look like the library would be open for 'normal' business again by Friday.  Right now, only certain teaching fellows, instructors and students were allowed in.

Blair raced out to the parking area behind the huge Library, just in time to see Jim's distinctive Blue and White Ford pull into the lot.
Getting better at timing yourself, Blair.  He walked over to the curb and arrived at the same time Jim pulled up.  "Hey, Jim," he called
through the open window as he opened the passenger door and jumped in, dropping his pack to the floor.  "Here, Alice finished the list you need."

Jim reached over and took the stack of papers from his partner's hand and while Blair made sure that he was securely belted in, Jim glanced over the list.  "Any more surprises here?"

"None.  Oh, an old copy of Shakespeare's sonnets is the biggest, money wise, item missing.  Other than that, everything can easily be replaced with newer copies."

Jim nodded and placed the papers on the seat between them.  He pulled away from the curb as he asked, "Anything else to add?"

Out of habit, Blair looked both ways when they pulled up to the stop sign before Jim turned onto Rainier Drive, and answered, "Not really.
Alice still hasn't heard back from the Burton Estate, but promised to ask about the Monograph and the Watchers notes when her contact gets back with her.  Said it should be later this afternoon, no later than tomorrow."

"Is that wise, Chief?"

"What?"

"Having her ask about certain materials?"

"Why?"   As Jim pulled the truck to a stop at a traffic light, he finally got where the detective was heading.  "Oh, that.  No, Alice will
just figure it's me being curious about Burton, normal pattern for me. She was one of the ones that was instrumental in helping me obtain my copy of the monograph. Oh man!  I just thought of something!"

Jim turned the truck down Cosey Rd. "What?"

"There may be a better way to track down the Burton stuff."

"How's that, Chief?"

"I had to register as an owner when I purchased the monograph."

They had just entered a gated community, Sea View, and Jim pulled over for a moment to turn and look at his partner.  "Why is that?"

Blair was practically bouncing in his seat.  "Because, the Burton Estate likes to keep track of such things.  Just in case they get a request for something, or would like to get copies made.  They would have a list of owners to contact to get any originals, and possibly a list of folks who had requested copies."

"And this list of owners would have the addresses?"

"Yeah.  As would the list of copy owners."

Jim pulled back onto the road, heading for Ocean Drive.  "Good thought. When we get back to the station, see if you can get in touch with the Estate and request a copy of their lists.  Might help track down anyone in the area that might still have a Burton original or copy and maybe help us get a clue as to who's behind these robberies."  About two miles down Ocean Drive, he found the address he was looking for and he pulled into the driveway.

Blair watched as they pulled up to a large home done up in a Roman-Greco style. There were two cars sitting in the drive, a pearl white Aston Martin DB5 and a dark gray Chevy Caprice with 'Guardian Security' decals plastered on it's sides.  He snorted.  "Gee, wonder which one belongs to the Councilman?"

Jim snickered.  "Cool it, Chief.  I need to have my best poker face on when we meet with the man.  Can't have a snide remark of yours floating around my head."

"Yeah, I can see how that would ruin your image."

Willow Springs, Arkansas
Early Afternoon, 10 January

Caragh McConnel entered the Galloway County Sheriff's Department, looking for two people, Leland Andrews and/or her husband, Sean.  She came across the Sheriff first.

"Hiya, Mike!" Lee greeted her, " You holding up okay?"

"Yeah, Lee.  As well as can be expected." She walked over to a convenient desk and put her backpack down.  Opening the pack, she pulled out an accordion file and handed it to him. "Here, I just finished those up."

Lee took a peek inside the file.  "Hmm.  Let's go find Sean, he'll want to see these."  He snapped the file closed and the two of them wandered deeper into the building.

Sean was going over the field notes of one of the deputies who had worked a rather nasty traffic accident, or MVA, last night.  The
responding officer was standing over the Chief Detective's desk waiting for a response.

"These look good, Shane.  But you might want to go back out today and double check your measurements."

Shane Thomas smiled as he took the notes back.  "Thanks, I was planning on doing that.  You really think they're okay?"

"Your notes are fine.  Just bring the diagram back when you finish it and let me double check it.  They can be tricky."  Sean got up and
walked over to the communal coffeepot, grabbing another cup for himself. "Any word yet on the driver of the Nissan?"

"Life-Flighted out to University Medical Center in Little Rock two hours ago."

Sean sipped the bitter brew.  "Well, that could go either way."

"That's what the nurses told me."  Shane looked behind the detective's shoulder and saw the Sheriff and Dr. McConnel approaching.  "I'll getback to you later, Sean.  Thanks again for the assist."

Sean watched as the younger man fairly ran out of CID, then smelling a certain scent, turned and saw his wife walking in with the Boss.  "Mike. Lee.  What brings you down to my neck of the woods this afternoon?"

"I've got the photos from yesterday, Sean," Caragh answered.  At her husband's nod they followed him into an interview room where they could go over the photos in private.

"Nice work, Mike.  Developed these at the Campus?"  Lee asked as they passed photos back and forth.

"Yeah, didn't think the techs at Wal-Mart would appreciate them."

Sean pulled one back to study a little closer.  "Oh, I don't know about that, Mike.  I seem to recall seeing several of them attending those
'hack-n-slash' films at the movie house."

She batted at him from across the table.  "Sean, that's Hollywood and the kids know it.  This," she gestured down at the photos, "This is justa little too real, if you know what I mean."

Lee sniggered.  "Okay, that's enough you two.  Sometimes you act like you've been married for twenty instead of six years."

Sean smiled.  "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"  He stood up and stepped out to his desk, returning with the Wilkins file.  "Okay, let's see what we have here."

They worked in silence for about an hour pairing up photos with field notes and actual reports, working them into the proper order, organizingthem so that when they got a suspect, the DAs office would be able to prosecute to the fullest extent.  As they finished up, Caragh asked her husband a question.

"Sean?  Have you asked him yet?" He shook his head, 'no'.

Lee stretched back in his chair, the sound of popping back bones clearly audible.  "Sorry about that, Sean."  He'd seen the detective wince. "Now, ask me what?"

Seeing that the Protector was still reluctant to bring up the subject, Caragh tackled the issue.  "I want to check something out of Evidence."

"What?"

"The book recovered by O'Brian at the Wilkins house."

That brought Lee back upright in the chair.  "Okay, before I consider that request, which I cannot believe you just asked by the way, I want
to know.  Why?"

"I need to read it."  She leveled her green eyes to stare into the Sheriff's hazel ones.

Lee sighed.  "Mike, don't make me drag it out of you.  Tell me.  Either you or Sean, 'cause the way he's reacting tells me he's not comfortable with the idea either."

"No kidding," came Sean's reply.

"McConnel, shush.  Let your Guardian tell her tale."

Caragh hid the smile threatening to burst onto her face. You haven't won yet.  Calm down.  "You just stated part of the reason, Lee."

"Huh?  You just lost me, Mike."

"Did you get a chance to see the book before Sean here locked it up?"

Lee shook his head.  "No, I had to get to a meeting of the County Supervisor's Board."  He noticed that Sean continued to flip through the
Wilkin's case file as the conversation went on around him.  What is he hiding? He sure as heck don't look too happy.

"It was a collection of research notes, put together by James 'Blackie' Wilkins back in the late eighteen hundreds.  Notes that he made while traveling with another researcher, Richard Burton."  Caragh paused to see if any of this had registered yet on the Sheriff's mind.  Apparently not yet.  Okay, let's go a bit further.  "Lee, when Sean and I brought you into our confidence all those years ago, do you recall my telling you about the significance of Burton's work?  The monograph?"

Lee suddenly remembered.  "The one about 'sentinels' or something?  You told me that was another word for what Sean is, right?"

"Yes.  Okay, the book that Craig found last night was titled 'Guardians and Protectors.'  I didn't get a good look at it, but it looked as
though it had been professionally published.  I won't know for certain until I can examine it.  Closely.  And that includes reading it."

Lee sat in silence for a few minutes, contemplating his choices. "Caragh, I'm not so sure I can do that.  We haven't even had the boys
from Northwest Crime Lab come over and take a look at it or the crime scene, have we, Sean?"

"Not yet.  They should be here no later than 3:30 PM according to their last ETA."  Sean stood up and walked out of the interview room, leaving behind his companions of the last hour or so.

"Now, where do you suppose he went off to?"  Lee asked.

Caragh sighed.  "Probably went to calm down.  We've been arguing about this off and on since I brought it up last night."

"And rightly so." The older man turned a serious face towards her. "Mike, if I just hand that book over to you, even if we follow
procedures and place it into your 'custody' as an expert; when we catch the person, or persons, that killed Art Wilkins and if they get a good defense attorney, our whole case could be sunk."

"I know that, Lee.  Really, I do."

Lee sighed.  "This is about your duty to Sean as his Guardian, isn't it? You're willing to toss away your commission, your reputation, just to
make sure that he's safe.  Aren't you?"

"Yes.  I have to do this, Lee." She met his eyes, making sure that he understood her depth of commitment.

The Sheriff sighed.  "Okay.  I'll make you a deal.  If the Lab boys cannot find anything useful, no fingerprints or other latent evidence on
the book, I'll check with Bradley at the DA's office about getting it to you."  He relaxed as Caragh smiled at him.  "I make no promises, Mike.
Bradley's just enough of a prick to say no, given the chance."

"He won't," Caragh stated confidently.

"And how can you be so sure, young lady?"

She smiled a feral, almost cunning, grin.  "Because, when Sean and I were arguing last night I asked him if he had examined the book, if he had seen any prints or other kind of evidence that would make it valuable to have in court."

"And?"

"Nothing.  Not a single print.  The leather binding was too old to hold onto the oils very long to be useful."

"There are new techniques that can pull up latents you know." Techniques that the State Crime Lab was just starting to use on a regular basis.

"Better than a Protector?"

Lee gave up.  He knew when he was beaten, and Caragh had been playing this kind of game with him for far too long to let him win.  He stood up and, glancing at his watch, made his excuses.  "Mike, I've got to get to another meeting.  Ask Sean to page me when the Lab Techs get here."

"Sure, Lee."  Caragh stood up, twisting to get her spine back in order. "I take it you want to be there when they run their tests on the book?"
She started to gather up her papers, stuffing them into her back bag.

"What do you think?"  He left the conference room, leaving the door wide open.

"Barn dweller." Caragh muttered under her breath.  Glancing at her own watch she noticed that there would be about another hour's wait for the State Lab people to arrive, then at least another half hour to an hour for them to set up.  She grabbed up her back bag and headed back out to the bullpen of CID.  She spotted one of Sean's better detectives just coming in to the office.  "Hiya, Joe!"

Joe Kelley turned around to see his old High School friend, now married to his boss and one hell of a photographer as well as his younger sister's favorite teacher, walking towards him from the area of the conference room.  "Mike!  Slumming again?"

Caragh reached out and grabbed the detective's arm, friendly like, at the elbow.  "Slumming?  Is that what you call it now?"

"Oh, come on, Mike.  You're a Doctor of Anthropology at the College, why did you insist on marrying Sean and keeping your commission as a reservist?"

Caragh smiled.  "Jealous, Joe?"  She was fully aware that the other man had, at one time, considered himself a prime catch.

He felt the heat of a blush creeping up on his face. "Damn straight.  I sure as hell wouldn't be wasting my time here in Galloway County if I
had your credentials.  I'd be out there," he gestured widely around him, "Traveling the world, doing whatever it is you Anthropologists do."

"We study people, Joe."  She let go of his arm and shrugged her pack up onto her shoulder.  "And what better place can you think of to study all levels of a small town mentality than Galloway County and it's Law Enforcement Departments?"  With that she turned and made to walk away. But she turned back around at the last second before leaving the bullpen.

Joe was still watching her and asked, "Forget something, Mike?"  He smiled, enjoying the look of confusion that had crossed her face.

Caragh noticed the smug grin. "No, never mind.  I'll just stop by and ask Doris to pass my message on.  That way I know he'll get it."  She
left.

Joe shook his head as he wandered over to his desk and sat down. Damnit.  She's never going to let that one go, is she?  So what if I
forgot to tell her that some friend of hers from Washington State had called, asking her to take his place on some frigg'n expedition?
Sheesh.  That was over four years ago.

Doris Speer looked up from the phone call she was taking as Caragh McConnel walked into the dispatch center.  She waved, acknowledging her presence, but never let her attention waver off the caller's complaint.

"Mrs. McGaffe, how many times have you talked to Detective Kelley about this?"  Pause, "Okay, so you know that there is nothing that the
Sheriff's department can really do about this situation of yours with your neighbor, right?  Uh, huh.  Hmm.  Yes, I know how upsetting that
can be.  Uh, huh.  You're right."

Caragh listened to Doris' half of the conversation, knowing that the dispatcher had identified her caller for her sake.  Chuckling, she
placed her back bag on a spare desk and sat down in the extra chair. Turning to smile at the other dispatcher on duty, she settled in to wait for Doris to finish her call.

Charlie Lowe was in his early twenties, a tall blonde with the build of a cross-country runner.  He was also a student at the college and in one of Doctor McConnel's classes.  "Good afternoon, Professor Mike."

"Afternoon, Charlie.  Slow day?"

"So far."  He pointedly glanced over at Doris. "I'm just glad Dee answered that call and not me.  Goofy McGaffe.  Not my idea of a nice
way to start off a shift."

Caragh settled back into the chair. "What's her complaint this week?"

"Same one as always.  Nude Neighbor."  He kept his voice low so as not to be overheard by Doris' caller.  He watched as his Instructor had to seriously bite her tongue to keep from laughing out loud.

Clearing tears from her eyes, she looked up at the tall man sitting across from her. "She's still raising heck about that?  Must be going on
five years now."

Charlie shrugged.  "I'm guessing that she really likes looking, but then feeling guilty about that ? she has to call in and complain about his
'flaunting'."

"Do you know how many times she's been told that if it really bothers her, she just shouldn't be looking out that particular window of hers at six in the morning?"

Doris had finished her call and started to laugh.  "Charlie, Mike, stop, it!  I have a hard enough time controlling myself when I talk to her!"
She stood up and walked over to check on her co-worker's status.  "You be okay for a few, Charlie?"

"Sure.  Smoke one for me while you're out there."

"Come on, Mike.  I really do need the smoke."  Doris waited until Caragh had picked up her pack, then led the way out of the dispatch office to a back door that lead outside. "Damn weather!  Cold one day, warm the next.  I never know if I should bring in a jacket or just a sweater." Digging a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it, she turned her attention to her friend.  "So, Mike, what can I do for you?"

"Talked with the Crime Lab team that's coming up here lately?"  Caragh leaned against the building, soaking up the late afternoon sun.  Doris was right, for early January, it was just too warm.

"Just before Goofy called.  They had to revise their ETA, again. Something about the portable lab van sucking up the fuel coming over the
mountains."

"And their new ETA is?"

Doris took a deep drag off her cigarette and exhaled before answering. "Closer to four, than three-thirty.  Had to stop in Eureka and got
caught up in some kind of local parade ? or Hell's Angels convention."

Caragh sighed. "Okay.  That's not what I wanted to hear, but…  Look, when you pass that on to Sean, tell him I went back to my office on
campus and I'll meet him at home later."

"You waiting on them lab boys too?"

"I was going to, but I have a ton of work to catch up on."

Doris put her cigarette out in the ash can. "Okay, I'll tell him.  And Mike?  I'm sorry had to leave you in the dark yesterday, but Andrews
wanted it that way."

"It's okay, Doris, I understand.  Sean told me you had him call in for the info instead of broadcasting it.  Too many folks in this county have
scanners and Lee just didn't want to unduly scare anyone."

"Damn straight!"  Doris glanced at her watch.  "I need to get back inside, evening field staff about to come on.  I'll pass on the message
to Sean, don't worry."

Caragh pushed off the wall and pulled her pack back up onto her shoulder.  "I know you will.  Thanks."  She walked off towards the front
lot where her truck waited.

Doris watched her friend walk off, noticing the ever so slight slump of Caragh's shoulders, knowing that it signaled tiredness.  "Take care,
Mike."  And she went back into the building and the routine handling of units coming on duty and getting their assignments.

Caragh made one phone call when she got back to her office on campus, then settled in to work on the last draft of her mid-term tests that she had to give in a week.  Five classes, all at different levels of study, five different tests to be given out, proctored and graded.  Hated
Middies when I had to take the damn things myself, and I hate them even more now!  Grabbing another cup of hot tea from her coffee maker, she settled in to double check her work.

Cascade, Washington
Early Evening, 10 January
 

"Mr. Niksen, thank you for taking the time to see us."

"Not a great difficulty, I assure you, Detective.  I needed a break anyway."  The older, silver haired gentleman sat down in a huge
armchair, gesturing for his two visitors to seat themselves.  "Now, what can I do for you?"

"We're here about the break in and theft of your books…" Jim started.

"Excuse me, Detective.  Some of the rare books I collected, not my books."

Blair hid a smile by chewing on the inside of his cheek, and watched as Jim tried to regain footing with the Novelist cum Councilman.

"You're right, sorry about that.  Can you tell me what books were taken from your collection?"

Niksen let out a weary sigh.  "I told all this to the patrolman that took my report this morning, need I really repeat myself?"

Jim clenched his jaw.   He could tell, working with Niksen was going to be a real pain.  "No, sir, I guess you don't.  Let me ask you one thing. Have you any idea as to why someone would break in to your home and steal only certain books of yours?"

Niksen smiled, thinking, Finally, he asks a decent question!  "No, I am afraid that I cannot.  The books that were taken were old, one or two almost a hundred years old and in good condition ? very rare finds, but other than that, I haven't a clue."

Blair felt encouraged to say something at this point.  "Mr. Niksen, did you ever read any of the books that were taken?"  Niksen looked at him like he had suddenly grown two heads, a horrified expression crossing his face.

"Heaven's no!  The acids in the human hand would ruin the pages! I never even handled the books without wearing thin cotton gloves."

"To protect the bindings, correct?"  Blair continued.

"Of course!"  Niksen turned his attention fully to the younger man. "I say, you're a bright fellow, know how to treat your books.  So, you're
either a collector yourself, or maybe a student of antiquities.  How did you manage to hook up with the police?"

Blair grinned, starting to like the old man. "I'm an Anthropology student at Rainier, we handle rare items all the time.  Artifacts,
manuscripts, books, you name it."

"And your involvement with the police?  Case related only, or are you doing one of those studies you chaps always seem to be doing?"  Niksen leaned forward in the huge chair, intensely studying the young man.

"I started out as an Observer, but now I'm a detective.  Detective Ellison asked for my assistance in this matter."  He felt Jim's gaze
upon him.  Hey, Jim, chill.  You were the one who introduced me as your associate, not your 'partner'. It's natural that the writer would be
curious.

"Ah, then the theft of my books must be tied in somehow, maybe, with the break in at your university?"

Jim broke in, "We can't tell for certain, Mr. Niksen, but we have to check every angle."

Niksen returned his attention to the taller detective.  "Of course. Forgive me for wandering.  But I'm always on the look out for fresh
story ideas."

Jim asked a few more questions, all of which Niksen answered readily, no longer seeming to care that some were the same questions asked by the patrolman.  As Niksen walked them to the door, the old man asked a favor.

"Detective Sandburg, if you have time later this week, I'd love to interview you.  As a background study for a new character, if you don't
mind?"

Blair looked at the man, confused.  "Interview?"

"I've been thinking of starting a new series, I'm getting rather tired of my current one, and I usually find someone to 'base' a character on.
Makes them more realistic for my readers."

Jim shook his head, not really believing what he was hearing.  Blair's heart rate was skyrocketing; maybe he needed a way out of this.
"Sandburg, didn't you tell me earlier that you had a pretty full schedule this week?"

Blair turned grateful eyes to his partner. "Yeah, you're right, Jim. Mr. Niksen, I'm sorry, but this just isn't a good time right now.  Maybe
later?"

Niksen nodded and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet then a business card.  "I understand, Detective.  Please, take my card and when your time allows, give me a call.  I truly think that a character built around you would be just what I'm looking for."

Taking the card, Blair shook the writer's hand.  "Okay.  I can do that. But no promises.  I never know what I'm going to be doing from week to week."

"Thank you.  And Detectives?  I hope that you can find the hoodlums that took those books of mine, and I'm sorry for my brusque behavior
earlier."  He reached out and shook Ellison's hand.

"We'll do our best, Mr. Niksen.  Good evening, sir."

The two friends walked down the massive steps to Jim's truck.  As they did so, Blair noticed that the security company's car was gone.  "Jim?" He pointed to where the car had been parked.

"Yeah, I noticed. While we were in the study with Niksen I heard a man talking with another about the security arrangements.  Must have been the old man's assistant and the company rep."  He unlocked the passenger side door, then walked around to get in on the driver's side.

"Guess Niksen wasn't real pleased that his home was broken into."  Blair put his seat belt on.

Jim climbed into the cab, started the engine and secured his own belt. "Well, I don't blame him.  Guardian Security is supposed to be one of the best firms in Cascade.  That someone could bypass their alarm systems has me wondering about the skill level of our thief."

Blair sat back and let his mind race around Jim's statement, seeing where it would lead.  "Jim?  Are you saying that this had to be a pro?
Not just your everyday, run of the mill, burglar?"

Jim pulled his attention off the road in front of him for a split second and smiled at his partner.  "You got it, Chief."

Blair groaned. "Oh, man.  That means you'll want to go back over the other two scenes with that in mind and use your sentinel abilities a
little harder.  Doesn't it?"

"Think you could get Alice Gordon to let us back in?  Tonight?"

"Maybe. Probably.  But what about Wilkerson Towers?"

Jim smiled, almost a feral grin. "I know the guard on duty tonight.  He owes me a favor."

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