Willow Springs, Arkansas
Late Evening, January 10

Caragh was pulling a large casserole dish out of the oven when Sean arrived at home. She didn't even wait for him to enter the house before telling him, "Supper's almost ready, hope you're in the mood for lasagna," knowing that he'd hear her.

Sean paused as he stepped out of his Suburban, hearing his wife talking to him, and then he sniffed the air. "Hmm, smells wonderful." He reached back into the vehicle, pulled out his rarely used briefcase and entered their home through a side entrance. Walking down the hall to the kitchen, he called out, "Mike? I don't know what you said to Bradley, but you got what you wanted."

She smiled as he entered the kitchen, turned and watched as he put his case on the table and opened it to reveal files and a carefully bagged book. "What makes you think I said two words to Jeff Bradley at any time today?"

Pulling the bagged book out of his case, he held it out towards her. "Because, he said something along the lines of 'Since we don't have any evidence of the book's connection to the actual crime ? then we should let our resident expert study it.' And then he handed the damn thing off to me, telling me to make sure that you got it."

Reaching out, she took the book into her possession. "Which you have done. Thank you Detective McConnel." She even sketched a reasonable curtsy towards him.

He watched, surprised that she didn't immediately start her reading of the book, but rather put it on the bookshelf above the refrigerator and then returned to her work of getting supper on the table. "What? Not going to start on it now?"

She turned back to him, knife in her hand from where she'd been cutting tomatoes for the salad. "I thought I'd get us and the cats feed before indulging." She turned back to her task. "Besides, now that I have the damn thing, I'm not so worried about it anymore."

Sean just looked at her as she calmly put together the salads for their meal. "Whatever. Mike, sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get you all figured out. You practically hounded me all last night about that book and now you act like it's no big deal."

She shrugged. "Go get cleaned up and whistle up the kitties, I'll feed them right before I feed us."

Deciding that retreat right at that moment was a good thing, he left to do as she asked. When Sean returned to the kitchen, with Guineth and Aidan in tow, he noticed that she had cleared the table and was setting the cat dishes down in their accustomed spot. He looked over to see that she had already dished up healthy servings of the lasagna ? vegetarian, she was on one of her kicks again ? and the salads were already on the table. Hearing something dripping, he looked over to see the coffee maker going, testing the air he smiled.

"Hmm, extra strength Colombian. Guess I know what that means."

Caragh smiled weakly as she put his salad and lasagna down in front of him as he took his seat. "Sorry, Sean. It's just a precaution, but you know how I can get when I start on a project."

"Yeah, I know. Guess it means that you've already made arrangements for Tommy to cover your classes tomorrow as well?" He dug into his salad, savoring the homemade lemon & thyme dressing that she'd put on it.

"Of course. It's just my freshman classes tomorrow, gives him good practice. He's scheduled to take on the classes by himself starting next year."

They ate in silence; then Sean went off to their home office to work a little more on the files and cases he had brought home, while Caragh cleaned up the kitchen, poured a large mug of her coffee and curled up on the couch to read. She barely acknowledged her husband's goodnight kiss she was so absorbed in her reading of Blackie Wilkins' notes.

Cascade, WA
Afternoon, 15 January

Jim sat at his desk in the Major Crimes bullpen, rotating his head trying to relieve the tension in his neck that was starting to cause a headache. Six days had passed since the burglaries at Rainier and Wilkerson Towers, five since the one at the Niksen residence, four since Blair was able to obtain a list of Burton manuscript owners {copies and originals} from the Burton Estate, and still no progress. He, Blair and the rest of the Major Crimes detectives had put down two more murder cases, a new drug running operation and closed down an illegal immigrant pipeline during that time, but the other three cases under his care had gone absolutely nowhere.

 To make things worse, Wilkerson himself, had started to hound the Police Chief personally about the progress, or lack there of, and the ball rolled down the chain of command until it landed squarely on one Detective James Ellison's desk. He had heard the private phone line in his Captain's office ring about ten minutes ago, tried not to listen in as Simon Banks' voice raised higher and higher during the conversation, and dreaded the outcome. He looked up when the Captain fell silent, only to see the man approaching his desk.

"Ellison, I hate to ask you this, again. But the Chief wants to knowÉ"

"I know, Simon. I just haven't caught any breaks on those cases. I'm starting to think that I never will." Jim let the frustration he was feeling show in his voice.

"Possible dead files?"

"Looks that way. I've tried everything, so has Sandburg, Rafe, Brown and Taggart. Not a single lead."

Simon reached over and put a hand on his detective's shoulder. "Jim, I know. Look, unless something comes up, declare the damn cases 'dead' and move on." He stepped back when Jim shot him a nasty look. "Don't look at me that way, Ellison. You've been on the job long enough to know that some cases just can't be solved. Get over it."

Jim closed the files on his computer, the ones pertaining to the manuscript robberies, and started to close down his workstation. "You're right, I do know that. But I don't like it. I keep getting this feeling that there's something else I should be doing." He heard the arrival of his partner on the seventh floor. "Maybe I should just give up on them for a while, come back to them later with a fresh mind."

Simon grinned around his ever present, unlit, cigar. "That's the best idea I've heard come from you in a long while. Ah, Sandburg, glad you're here."

Letting his backpack slide to the floor near Jim's desk, he looked up at the Captain in surprise. "You are, Simon?"

"Yeah, take your partner here and get out of what little is left of my hair. Take the next three days off, get your minds cleared up ? his in particular." He said, pointing at Jim. "Go fishing or something. When you get back I'll expect a decision about those three cases, Jim. But for now, get out of my department!" Simon turned on his heels and walked back to his office.

Blair stared after the tall man. "Wow! What was that all about?"

Jim stood up, grabbing his light-weight jacket off his chair, muttering, "I'll give you three clues, Chief. Rainer Library, Wilkerson, and Niksen."

 "Oh. I've got another idea I wanted to float past you about those cases."

"Later, Chief. Let's get out of here before Simon reneges on his offer." Jim reached over, grabbed up Blair's backpack and tossed it at him as they made their way out of the department.

Instead of taking the suggestion of Captain Simon Banks, Jim and Blair opted to stay in Cascade. The weather recently was just too chancy to risk getting caught up in the mountain range if winter decided to show up again. So instead, they chose to do some deep cleaning of the loft ? rather Jim decided they should do that. But for once, Blair didn't complain.

After the second day, they were relaxing on the couch, completely done with their early spring cleaning, watching a Jags game on television when Jim remembered that Blair had had another idea about the robberies, but had never said anything else.

He waited until a commercial break to bring it up. "Hey, Chief? Remember how on Thursday you said something about an idea for the Manuscript cases? What was it?"

Blair just stared at him, until he recalled the comment. "I'd been talking with Steve and Deena in the radio room about the National Crimes Information Computer system, how it works and what all you could put on it, and I thought why don't we put the books up on the thing?"

Jim stared at his roommate. The NCIC system was linked directly into the FBI's national database and had connections with the Canadian system. Mostly what was listed there were such things as wanted felons, missing or stolen guns, missing persons, but sometimes you could enter stuff such as crime MO. Not as a permanent record, but as a general broadcast to all law enforcement agencies throughout the country.

"That's a good idea, wonder why I didn't think of it sooner?" Jim stood up to go grab another beer and the case files he's managed to bring home without Simon's knowing about it.

Blair smiled and shrugged. "Jim, you hate messing with computers. I just thought about this and asked Steve and Deena if it could be done and they said it could and would be better than my original idea of putting the stuff up on the Internet."

Jim sat back down on the couch, handing Blair the second beer in his hand, and placed the files on the coffee table in front of them just as the game came back on. Neither man paid much attention to the game after that, they were busy putting together notes about the different crimes scenes, what connected them, apparent method of entry, possible motivation for the crimes, a list of Burton owners - it was becoming clear to them that Burton was the connection, anything that might give other investigators throughout the country a chance to link any past crimes, current crimes or future crimes to the events in Cascade Washington. By midnight, they had completed their notes and were prepared to present the idea to Captain Banks first thing Monday morning. Or rather, Jim would. Blair had a meeting with Professor Collins at Nine.

Willow Springs, AR
Late morning, 19 January

Doris Speer entered the Galloway County Sheriff's Office, cursing the weather that was moving into the area. Right behind her came Charlie Lowe, shaking off the heavy dusting of snow from his coat. "Morning, Doris."

"Humph! Damn weather! Damn fools driving on these slick roads!" The older woman stomped the snow from her boots, glaring up at the heavy, snow laden clouds just beyond the overhang.

Charlie tried to contain his laughter, and failed. "How many near misses?" He opened the door to the building, letting his shift boss precede him into the warmth.

"Too damn many!" Doris grumped as she walked pass him into the nice, warm, environment of the office building. "Come on, let's get back to our little hole and see about getting the day shift out of here and home safely before this system really dumps on us."

The two of them walked back to the dispatch center, only to find the place in total chaos. The three dispatchers on duty there handled calls that ranged from simple road travel inquiries--not recommended--to reports of multiple motor vehicle accidents, both with and without injury and/or property damage, as well as a ton of calls requesting medical assistance of all kinds. The GCSO Dispatch Center handled all kinds of emergency traffic, as they were a 9-1-1 answering station and dispatched not only local law enforcement, but fire and medical responders as well.

Like the well trained team that they were, Doris and Charlie moved in to get briefings from the other dispatchers, working up to relieving them and taking over their duties. Charlie was to have the radios and the inter-department phones, while Doris would handle the 9-1-1 station, the other phones, and run the NCIC/ACIC terminals for Charlie when he had a call from an officer to run a query on either a person or a vehicle.

Doris was flipping through the NCIC/ACIC terminal traffic board, looking for anything that she'd have to have Charlie broadcast later as updates , these were mostly what was know in the business as BOLO's (Be On the Look Out) and sometimes APB's (All Points Bulletin). Hearing the NCIC terminal beep at her, she looked and saw that there were five messages queued up. Sitting quickly at the keyboard, she started to bring them up. The first four were, luckily, not warrant confirmations, but rather weather updates put out by State Police Headquarters. It was the fourth one that got her attention.

"Charlie! See where Detective McConnel is for me, will you?" she demanded as she hit the 'print' button twice so as to get two copies of the memo, one for the dispatch center, and one for the Detective.

Glancing at his computer aided dispatch screen, he noted that GS-701 (McConnel, Sean) was reportedly here in the Sheriff's department. "Dee, I'm showing him 10-81."

"Thanks." She reached out, picked up the inter-department phone and dialed Sean's extension. It rang three times before his voice mail picked it up. " Damn." She hung up and then went over to another computer terminal where she typed in a short message, then hit the command key that would send the message to the detective's pager.

"Doris? What have you got?"

The older woman looked at the woman asking the question, Christi, and gave her the best go-to-Hades looks she could muster. "If you'd pay attention to this terminal once in a while, Christi, you'd know." She looked over at her counter-part, the day shift coordinator and asked, "Kay, who was on the radio when Sean came in?"

"I was. Right up until Charlie took over. Sean never left the building, or if he did, he never called it in to me."

"Okay, thanks." She nodded at the day shift coordinator, then turned back to the younger dispatcher. " Christi, I know that Kay was busy and you were probably helping her out, but we've got to pay attention to that terminal!" Doris was trying to calm down, but the girl had been with the department for over a year now and shouldn't have to be constantly reminded. "What if we'd gotten a 'hit' on a felony warrant from a traffic stop and because you weren't paying attention, ten minutes lapsed and the officer had to let the subject go?"

Christi had the grace to blush and avert her gaze from the irate Doris. "I know, I'm sorry. It's been really nuts in here this morning."

"Just don't let me catch you, or hear of you, ever letting it happen again. Now, go on, you, Kay and Sammie get out of here." She ushered the three of them to the door. "And be careful out there. This snow seems to have brought all of our favorite idiots out to play."

Kay and Christi left, but Sammie lagged behind. "Doris? You sure you don't want me to stay? I only live a few blocks away, I can walk if it gets any worse."

Sammie was a tall young lady with dark brown hair and serious eyes ? and a student Paramedic to boot. Doris thought about the offer. "Okay, stay.. But only until this traffic settles down, then you go home!"

"Thanks! If you want, I can stay in here with Charlie while you go track down Sean. And maybe suck down one of your cancer sticks?" She striped out of her jacket and took over Doris's position by the 9-1-1 phone.

Doris ran her hands through her short brown hair. "Do I really look like I need one that bad, hon?"

Charlie turned away from the radio. "No offense, Dee, but yeah. You do. Sam and I can hold the fort down. The phones are settling and the units that are out are all working MVA's so they'll be tied up for a while. Go on, get out of here." He turned back as a unit called for his attention.

"I'll be back in fifteen, maybe twenty." She grabbed up her coat, checking to make sure her cigarettes were in her pocket and left the center. After five minutes of prowling the offices, she gave up trying to find Sean and headed out to the parking garage where she could smoke without getting snowed on. It was there that she found the detective, putting snow chains on his unit. He had a portable radio blaring beside him and it was on a classic rock station. She lit up and walked over to him.

"Sean! SEAN!"

He came out from under the Suburban holding his head. "Yeowch! Doris! You don't have to yell! I heard you the first time!" Sean tried, and finally succeeded in getting his sensitive hearing back down to 'normal' range. The radio wasn't really that loud, but he'd been practicing tuning, or filtering, out noises lately with Caragh and radio was a good thing to attempt to filter as it was always changing.

"I'm surprised." She reached down and turned off the offensive noise. "I found something on the NCIC terminal that I thought you'd be interested in." She pulled the printout from her pocket and handed it to him.

Sean took the paper from her and read the contents. "This is interesting, thanks, Doris."

"You saw where the report originated from? Isn't that were Mike did some of her college learning?"

Sean looked back at the header on the information. "Yeah, I think so. I'd have to ask to make sure."

Doris finished her cigarette and put it out on the sole of her shoe, field striping the butt and pocketing the remains. "Weird how some things happen, ain't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, 'bout four years back I passed on a call to your department from an old friend of Mike's, can't recall the guy's name now. Anyway, Joe took the call and the message, but it never got to Mike. She was pretty pissed about it. You sure you didn't know about this?" Doris looked up at the detective.

"First I've heard of it, Scout's Honor." He held up his hand in the classic Boy Scout salute.

"Uh, huh. Any who, I guess this old friend of hers from that school she went to had to decline a position on an expedition and wondered if she wanted to take his place. He had to have an answer in like an hour, but she didn't get the message until the next day."

Sean closed his eyes and shook his head. "No wonder she and Joe try to avoid each other. You said this happened four years ago? Any idea where the expedition was heading?" He was just curious, he and Caragh had been together three years back then and he was still having a lot of trouble handling these senses of his, so there was no way that she would've gone. But she'd missed a chance to talk to an old friend, no wonder she always looked like she wanted to skewer detective Kelley whenever she saw him.

Doris shrugged. "Yeah, four years. I think the scuttlebutt at the time was that the trip would've taken her to Borneo. I did some checking on my own and found out that the trip was being headed up by a Doctor Stoddard."

Sean merely smiled as he put the paper she'd brought him into his coat pocket. " Well, sometimes things work out for the best. Thanks for bringing this to me. I need to go find Lee and see what he thinks."

They walked back into the building together and Sean took off to find Sheriff Andrews while Doris returned to the Dispatch Center.

Caragh McConnel sat behind her desk at the college, reading the book she'd been poring over for nearly two weeks, and making notes as she went along. From her reading, she concluded that Blackie Wilkins had never told Burton he was making his own study, but that he was using Burton's works on the Watchers of Africa and the Sentinels of Paraguay as basis for his research into her family. It was all there, Caragh's own great-grandfather and her grand uncle, the Guardian and Protector of that generation, Moir*'s father and her 'adopted' uncle. The Michaels, the Rheagans, the O'Neills, and the Crowes had a history of being Guardians and/or Protectors that could be traced back to the late 1100's. It was kept in several 'secret' journals that only a chosen few members of the Clan knew how to read. Moir* was the 'keeper' of the Journals for now, but soon it would come to Caragh, as rightful Guardian and Shaman to the Clan.

Getting her mind back on her notes, she had a sudden thought to try and contact the only other person in the United States that wouldn't laugh at her questions about Burton and his controversial writings. She was digging in her back pack to find her address book when she happened to glance out her office window and noticed how heavily the snow was falling. Sighing, she ceased her rummaging. "Guess I'll try later, Blayre." She packed up the Wilkins book, along with her notes, bundled up and headed out to her truck. Once there, she decided to ride over to the Sheriff's Department instead of trying to make it home on the increasingly slick roads, knowing that if push came to shove, she'd be able to bunk down there.

Sean had located the Sheriff and instead of explaining the situation, just handed Lee the printout that Doris had brought him. "Lee, here, read this."

Lee read the report and remarked, "So, we weren't the only ones to have such a burglary on that day, but ours was coupled with a murder. Great." He lead the way into his office, making his way over to the coffee machine he kept there. Turning to face his detective, he asked, "You want a warm up? It's awfully cold out there."

"Thanks. You're right, but at least I got the chains on my unit in case the field staff need to borrow it." Sean took the proffered mug of coffee.

"Speaking of that, you think Mike will come here after she leaves campus?" Lee sat down on the couch he had in his office, gesturing for Sean to join him there.

"Probably, she usually does when the weather gets nasty like this."

"You hear the latest? They're calling for us to get over a foot of snow, maybe two."

Sean shook his head in dismay. "I heard. You know, the county road crews aren't going to be able to keep up. That last storm we got nearly did them in."

"No kidding! I heard that the Judge was getting more sand, gravel and salt brought in after that one. I just hope it's gotten here already." He took a drink of his coffee, enjoying the warmth that spread through his body. "Okay, look, find out the phone number for that police station that put that report up on NCIC and get in touch with their lead detective. Exchange information. It's a stretch, but maybe we can help each other out."

"You're right, it is a stretch, but I've come to the end of my rope trying to find out what happened, who did it and why." Sean sipped his own coffee then continued, "And that bothers me. I hate to leave a case open this long, but I can't close it either."

"Alyssa still staying with your people out there at the Caer?"

"No, she left two days ago to visit family down in Texas. I wanted Mike to go with her, just to keep her company, but 'Lyssa insisted on going alone." Noticing the questioning glance from his superior he added, "Don't worry, she called last night to tell us that she got into San Antonio okay."

"Good. I worried about that." Lee finished off his coffee and stood up to get a refill. "Now, go see what you can dig up on that case."

Sean stood up, saluted the Sheriff with his coffee mug and left the office, seeking out his own desk and the NCIC terminal there. With any luck, he'd be able to locate the phone number he wanted without help from Doris or Charlie. Or Mike, when she gets here. I just can't make the damn thing jump through hoops like she can. No matter how long she tries to train me.

Caragh McConnel made it to the Sheriff's Office without any mishaps, an amazing feat considering just how many idiots she had passed who had spun off into the ditches and a few into telephone poles. She had stopped at every scene to check on the drivers, and since none of them were hurt and damage to the cars and other property was minimal, she took a preliminary report, gave them her card, told them to contact their insurance companies in the morning, and to give her a week to get the reports ready. They all thanked her, and she put in a call to Doris to request the next wrecker for each car, then advised the owner to stay with the cars until the wreckers got there or if they didn't want to wait for the hour, hour and a half, to leave the keys with the police department or Sheriff's office. Most decided to stay with their cars, no matter how long the wait.

When she pulled into the parking garage, it was nearly two hours since she'd left the College and she was cold and wet. Not her favorite condition to be in. Grabbing up both her school backpack and her 'emergency' backpack from behind the bench seat of her truck, she made her way into the office. Stopping by the Dispatch Center she thanked both Doris and Charlie for their assistance, and they in turn passed on thanks to her. Not only from themselves, but from Willow Springs PD who were busy working accidents all over the small city.

Doris took in the two backpacks that Caragh was carrying and quipped, "So, you planning on staying the night, Mike?"

She lifted her 'emergency' pack and smiled. "Yeah, make sure I get a bunk will you?"

"Give me your pack and I'll go lay claim to a bed for both you and Sean. I get this feeling that he's not going home either." Charlie took the pack from her and disappeared to go seek out the emergency shelter area.

Doris grinned wickedly as she took out a cigarette and lit up there in the Center. Seeing Caragh's look she replied, "Special compensation from the Sheriff and the Judge. I'm stuck here until the thaw, so I get to smoke in here."

"Let me guess, you came in early to get the day girls out, then Anna can't make it in from Rowan, so you and Charlie are both stuck until someone can make it in to relieve you." Caragh was starting to feel a little warmer, so she removed her coat and hung it on a hook behind the door.

"You got it. But I don't mind, and I don't think Charlie does either."

"Fine. Let me get some rest this evening, then come get me about 2 AM and I'll relieve you so that you can get some sleep."

"You sure about that, Mike? I hate to impose on you."

She smiled. "You're not. Let me point out that I'll work the Center from 2 to say 7 and then you, Charlie or one of the field officers can come in and relieve me."

"That's a plan. Thanks, Mike."

Charlie came back into the room just then. "Hey, Dee, did you tell her? About that information that came in earlier?" He sat back down at the 9-1-1 station as he looked over at his supervisor.

"Not yet." Doris finished her cigarette and put it out in a real ashtray that had somehow found it's way into the Center.

"What info?"

"A information only memo from Cascade. I handed it off to Sean shortly after it came in," Doris answered nonchalantly.

"Cascade? As in Washington state? That Cascade?"

"Yeah, that Cascade. You know the place, where you went to school for seven years?" Doris replied, a hint of doubt coloring her voice, as if she wasn't sure she was recalling everything.

"Rainier University, lord that brings back some memories." Caragh sat down and smiled as the thoughts ran through her head. "Now, what kind of info was it, Doris?"

It was the telecommunicator's turn to grin like a Cheshire cat. "It seems that they had a string of burglaries out there involving rare books, I thought it might tie in to the Wilkins case, so I gave it to Sean."

Looking over Doris' shoulder to the status board of the units, she noticed that Sean was still logged in as being here at the office. "Okay, thanks Doris. I guess I'd better go and find him, see what he's got." She stood up and looked over at Charlie. "And don't forget our little deal, Doris. Send Charlie to raid the Jail's kitchen and get you both something to eat and make sure he gets some rest. You too."

"I will. Now, get out of my area until you're supposed to be back here."

Caragh found Sean glaring at his NCIC/ACIC terminal with a look that, if the computer had been a living being, would've killed it with its intensity. "Sean? You okay?"

"Mike, I'm glad you're here. I need you to look something up for me." He stood up and let her take his chair. " See what you can pull up on a," he paused to look back at the printout in his hand, "Cascade, Washington PD will you?"

"Let me see that printout." She held out her hand. He handed it off to her and she read the report. "Silly, look here." Caragh pointed to the very last paragraph of the printout. "See? The name of the detective you need to talk to, the number for the PD and his extension are all right here."

Sean grabbed the paper from her hand and looked at the paragraph in question. "I cannot believe that I missed that. I thought it was all routing data."

"Common enough mistake. I won't tell anyone." She grinned at him. "So, you still want me to show you how to pull the info up on the NCIC?"

"Yeah." He leaned over her and watched her work the terminal, and caught a whiff of smoke. "Doris smoking in the Center again?"

"Yes. Sorry about that, I know the smell lingers and you can't stand it, but it couldn't be helped." She finished typing in the request, hit the enter key and waited for the info to come up on the screen. "Here it is. Wow! Look how many departments they have now!"

"Hmmm, quite a few. Can you tell which department this Ellison works in by his extension?"

"Probably. What is it?"

"8204."

Scanning the list of numbers, she found it. "Major Crimes. That's new in the last seven years. Wonder what kind of cases they handle?"

Sean pulled his phone towards him and sat down to dial. "Probably all the hot political ones, or ones that cross areas of responsibility."

"And thefts of rare books?" Caragh enjoyed seeing that look on her husband's face.

Startled, he nodded. "Yes, this is Detective Sean McConnel from Galloway County Arkansas, can I please speak with a Detective Ellison? It's in reference to the information he put out on the NCIC about the theft of rare books. Thank you." He looked over at his wife. "Can you get me a copy of the books that were taken from the Emeritus' house?" Caragh dug into the file and handed him the list. "Thanks. Detective Ellison? This is Detective Sean McConnel, I'm calling from Galloway County Arkansas in response to your information request about rare book thefts."

Caragh decided to give Sean some privacy and went looking for her overnight gear and to retrieve Sean's from the Suburban. Then she recalled that she had wanted to make her own contact with a friend back in Cascade. She sought out her backpack and the address book within, then found a private phone from which to call, placing the charge on her calling card. "Rainier Anthropology Department? Great! I'm looking for a Blair Sandburg, is he still a Teaching Fellow there? He's not? Oh, he is, is he? By chance is he in his office? Can you put me through? Oh, sorry about that, I'm Doctor Caragh Michaels-McConnel from Willow Springs College. Yes, that Caragh Michaels. Thank you, Thea." She waited patiently as the secretary, who'd been at Rainier long enough to remember Caragh's own time there, put her through to Blair's phone. He answered without his usually flippant remark, meaning Thea hadn't told him who was on the line, after the second ring. "Blair! Mike Michaels, how've you been? That's great! I'm glad they finally decided to let you teach again and take your true thesis paper for your doctorate. Hey, I got a question for you about Burton. In all your research, did you ever run across a mention of an assistant by the name of Blackie Wilkins? You did?"

The two conversations, one to Cascade PD and the other to Rainier University went on for a while, and both McConnels were not surprised by too many of the answers they received.

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