by Laura F. Schomberg
Jessie turned off the shower. Pulling the dripping curtain back, she reached for a large, burgundy towel and vigorously dried her body. She was reaching for the knob when a unexpected sound from the other side of the door made her pause. Kendra wasn't supposed to be home for two more hours.
"Blair? Is that you?" she called. Hearing a muffled reply, she pulled a pale green, terry-cloth robe from a hook on the door. She quickly pulled on the robe and left the bathroom. Toweling off her hair, she walked through the bedroom and into the living room.
"Geez, Blair. You're early," she said before pulling the towel away from her damp hair. Her hand tightened around the towel when she saw the muscular man standing outside her kitchen door.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
The man took two steps closer, not answering her question.
Jessie turned and walked stiffly to the phone, saying, "I told you if you ever came back I'd call the police."
"I don't think so," he growled, lunging towards the young woman.
************
"What are we doing here, Jim?" Simon asked from the passenger seat of Jim's truck.
"Moral support. We've known Jessie almost as long as he has and he wanted us to be close by."
Simon snorted. "Just what is he doing up there anyway?"
"He's asking her to marry him."
"You're kidding!?!" Taking off his glasses, he said, "They've only been dating for a couple of months!"
Jim shrugged. "But they've known each other for almost six months."
"Don't you think they're a bit young?" Simon insisted.
Jim sighed, twisting his neck to get a better view of the apartment building. "He's about the same age you were when you got married."
"And look how that one ended."
"Not every marriage ends in divorce," Jim pointed out.
"Yours did," Simon replied. "So I take it we're either going to be celebrating or consoling the kid."
"Basically."
"They better get moving if he wants to make the reservations."
Opening his door, Jim replied, "You're right. As much as I hate to do this, we better go remind them."
************
Halfway to Jessie's apartment, Jim stopped suddenly. "Wait a minute, Simon," he said, putting a hand to the captain's chest.
"What's wrong?"
Jim looked around the walkway. "I smell blood."
"Where is it coming from?"
Walking slowly down the hall, Jim said, "This way."
"Jim," Simon said, when he stopped in front of Jessie's door. "Can you hear anything?"
He shook his head, reaching behind his back and pulling his gun from its clip. Simon reached under his coat and pulled his gun from its holster. Quietly, Jim pushed open the door. Nodding to his captain, he silently went inside the apartment, Simon following close behind.
They edged down the short entrance hall, past the kitchen, and into the living room. The sight that greeted their eyes stunned both men. The room had been destroyed, furniture was toppled, lamps broken. Blair knelt on the floor next to the sofa, his back to the entrance. He was rocking, holding Jessie's bloody, lifeless body in his arms.
Simon moved swiftly to the phone in the kitchen to call Homicide while Jim knelt down beside his roommate. He gently put his hands on Blair's shoulders, saying quietly "It's time to put her down."
Blair responded by tightening his hold on his dead love. Leaning forward, Jim carefully pulled Jessie from Blair's grasp. The young man watched, shocked, as his friend gingerly laid her body on the floor at his knees. Blair reached forward, moaning softly. Grabbing his hands, Jim pulled him to his feet.
"Don't, Blair. Just take it easy."
He tried to jerk out of Jim's grasp. The detective maintained his hold on Blair, pulling him against his chest. The shattered man suddenly fell to his knees, dragging Jim to the floor. Jim hesitated briefly before wrapping his arms around his sobbing friend. He held Blair until Homicide arrived.
************
Jim forced a glass of wine into Blair's hand. They were in Jessie's bedroom, Blair sitting in shocked silence on her bed while his roommate efficiently went through her belongings, looking for clues to the identity of her killer. Jim had stopped his search long enough to hunt down the strongest drink he could find, an unopened bottle of white wine.
Blair stared down numbly at the drink in his hand. "Jessie doesn't . . .didn't drink," he said quietly. "I told Kendra about my plan to ask Jessie to marry me. She bought the wine. She said Jessie would want to have a glass to celebrate."
Jim eased down next to Blair, surprised by his sudden need to talk. Until these last few words the dark-haired man had been silent and unmoving. Jim awkwardly placed a hand on the man's thin shoulder.
"How am I going to tell her father?" Blair whispered.
"Simon or I will handle that. What about her mother?"
I haven't seen my mother since I was seven. If I never see her or hear from her again I'll die happy. Jessie's words echoed in his head, offering no comfort. "You got your wish," he mumbled.
Jim, uncertain what the greiving man ment, asked, "What?"
Blair sharply shook his head. "Jessie hadn't seen her in years. She didn't know where she was or if she was still alive. She didn't care."
Jim nodded, squeezing the young man's shoulder. Sensing that his roommate might be ready to talk about what he had seen, Jim started to ask him about it when he heard a commotion coming from the front of the apartment.
"Stay here," he told Blair, getting up and striding quickly to the door. When he opened the bedroom door he saw a young woman struggling with an officer at the apartment entrance.
"But this is my apartment. What's going on? Where's Jessie?!?" the almond-skinned woman cried as she tried to get away from the officer.
"It's okay, Lowe," Jim said as he reached the door.
The officer nodded and released Kendra. She tried to run past Jim, fear evident on her face. He grabbed her arm as she passed and pulled her back, not wanting to expose her to the sight of her roommate's brutally battered body.
"No, Kendra. You don't want to go in there."
"Jessie," she breathed.
Jim nodded, his eyes closed.
"Blair?" the young woman whispered.
Jim shook his head and gently started to lead her to Jessie's bedroom. His footsteps halted when he saw Blair standing in the doorway to the room. Kendra quickly pulled away from the detective and walked shakily to Blair. She fell into his arms, sobbing. Jim turned away from the two people comforting each other and walked slowly over to Simon, who was standing in the kitchen.
"How's he doing?"
"I don't know, Simon. He's talking but he still seems to be in shock."
Simon nodded briefly. He reached past the detective, picking up a bag on the counter. He handed the evidence bag to Jim who saw that it contained a bloody carving knife.
"I found this in the garbage. I checked her drawers. She was killed with one of her own knives."
Jim grimaced. He knew his roommate hadn't killed Jessie but he didn't want anyone to even suspect the young man. Finding that the knife came from her own apartment could cast doubt on Blair's innocence.
"I have more," Simon said. "There was no sign of forced entry. Either Jessie let her killer in or the person had a key."
"You don't think Blair did this?" Jim demanded.
"Of course not. Let me finish, Jim."
"What else do you have?"
"The preliminary forensics report estimates the time of death to be roughly two to three hours ago. Blair was with you during most of that window."
The detective flashed a confused look at his captain. "How could she narrow it down that much? Usually she gives us a wider margin."
Simon snorted. "Not very scientifically. Apparently Jessie had just gotten out of the shower. According to Carol Lobb, Jessie's hair is almost dry. It seems that Jessie's hair and hers are the same texture and length. Carol said that it takes her hair two to three hours to air dry."
Jim nodded in relief. "So who are the initial suspects?"
"It could be anyone. Kendra, her brother Omari, the landlord, anyone who knew Jessie."
"I didn't do it," a shaky voice said from the kitchen door. Both men turned to see Kendra standing behind them, Blair at her side.
"Omari didn't do it either."
"I'm sorry, Kendra," Jim began. "But I need to know where you were."
"I was with my brother, Omari," she replied, her voice stronger. "He was helping me study for a test."
"Do you have any idea who might have done this?"
Kendra shook her head.
"It could have been anyone," Blair stated.
"What do you mean, Chief?" Jim asked, walking over to stand by Blair.
"Jessie lost her keys yesterday. She wanted the landlord to change the lock but he said he couldn't do it until tomorrow."
"Great," Simon groaned. "Our short list of suspects just got a lot longer." Removing his glasses, Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath, blowing the air through his mouth before saying, "Kendra, you can't stay here tonight."
The young woman nodded her tear streaked face. Rubbing roughly at her cheek, she walked quietly to the phone hanging on the kitchen wall. Blair walked away from the kitchen as she dialed her brother.
Turning to Simon, Jim said, "We aren't going to turn this over to homicide are we?"
Simon shook his head. "I've already talked to the head of Homicide. The case is ours."
Jim nodded in appreciation before following Blair into the hallway. He watched Blair's back as the young man pulled something out of his pocket. Swiftly crossing the gap between them, Jim leaned over Blair's shoulder to see him open a jewelry box. The ring inside was different from the usual engagement ring, one small diamond surrounded by green emeralds.
"That's beautiful, Chief."
Blair nodded, mutely. "Emeralds were Jessie's favorite."
Jim placed an arm around Blair's shoulders. "Let's go home."
"What about Simon?"
"He'll get a ride," Jim said as he lightly led him out of the apartment.
************
Simon strode past the airport security checkpoint, flashing his badge when a guard tried to stop him. He slowed marginally and turned to find that his companion had not been able to get past the guard so easily. Turning quickly on his heel, Simon walked back to the large, male guard and briefly explained that the long-haired, flower-child wannabe was with him. The man nodded, unconvinced, and let the pair continue.
"You don't have to do this, Sandburg," Simon told the quiet man whose shorter legs forced the captain to slow his pace.
Blair sighed before replying dully, "I have to do this."
Simon continued down the hallway in silence. He wasn't thrilled to have the depressed anthropologist accompanying him on his errand to pick up Jessie's family. Jim had asked him to keep Blair with him this afternoon, explaining that he didn't think the young man should be left alone. Simon had grudgingly agreed since Blair was less likely to get into trouble with him than with Jim while he investigated Jessie's murder.
They reached the terminal waiting area a few minutes before the plane arrived. Quickly scanning the area, Simon found two unoccupied seats and motioned Blair to sit in one. Taking the other, the captain leaned back in the chair, stretching his long legs and contemplating the last time he had met Jessie's father.
He had met Jacob Daniels in this airport and driven him to the hospital to collect his daughter after she was injured in Garrett Kincaid's attempt to kill Blair. Daniels had spoken about his older daughter and four boys ranging in age from 36 to 25 with great pride. The level of pride didn't diminish when he told Simon about his beloved youngest daughter. He had explained that she was all the more special to him because his ex-wife, Jessie's mother, had spirited the girl away at the age of four. Three years later, the same woman had dropped his severely ill daughter on his doorstep and disappeared, never to be seen again. It had taken years of patience and love to counter the effects caused by three years of neglect.
The man Simon had met almost three months earlier had stood tall and walked with an easy confidence. He was in his late fifties but could easily pass for a man ten years younger. Simon was stunned by the sight of the same man as he exited the ramp leading to the plane. This Jacob Daniels appeared to have aged more than twenty years. His shoulders were slumped as he escorted an elderly woman with hair as white as fresh snow. Simon figured the change had happened overnight and prayed he never had to experience the pain Jessie's father was now experiencing.
The slight, elderly woman walking to Daniels' right barely reached his shoulder. She held her head up and scanned the people waiting for the passengers to unload. She recognized the two men who had risen, one from a picture and the other from her son's description. Quietly she said something to her son and her grandson who followed closely behind. Both men looked over to the men waiting for them before angling in their direction.
As the trio reached them, Simon held out his hand, saying, "Mr. Daniels. I'm sorry we have to met again under these circumstances."
The man nodded as he weakly shook the captain's hand. Indicating the woman on his right, he said, "This is my mother, Ellen Daniels." Quietly he asked the young man, roughly Blair's age, to move forward. "And this is my youngest son, Tony. My other children stayed in Wallace to handle the arrangements there," Daniels said, his voice catching on the word 'arrangements'. "They should be arriving here tomorrow."
Simon was about to introduce Blair when Ellen Daniels pulled away from her son and glided over to the young man. "You must be Blair Sandburg," she said, gracefully extending her hand.
Blair nodded numbly, carefully taking her hand in his. Ellen held his hand firmly, gently pulling him close. Placing a warm hand against his cheek, she said, "Jessie told me all about you. She was very much in love with you."
Blair nodded before quickly ducking his head. Pulling his hand from her grasp, he turned slightly and tried to discreetly wipe the tears from his eyes. He shoved his hands into his pocket, fingering the jewelry box with his right hand, before lifting his head and rejoining the group.
"I want to see my daughter."
Simon looked uncomfortably at Daniels. "You don't have to do that. Omari Redding made the formal identification this morning."
Daniels straightened, a look of grim determination etched across his face. "I need to see my daughter, Captain. I have to do something to make this real."
Simon could understand the man's wish. He directed them down the hallway, waiting for the small, sad group to pass him. Ellen surprised Blair by placing her hand softly in the crook of his elbow. Simon couldn't see the message that passed between their eyes but he hoped it helped Sandburg get through the next few days.
************
Jim joined the quiet group waiting for Simon and Daniels to return from the morgue. He waited for Blair to introduce him. When Blair didn't look up from the floor, Jim introduced himself. Carefully he shook the small, dry hand of Jessie's grandmother before sitting in the seat next to her.
Blair managed to rouse himself enough to ask, "Do you have any leads?"
Jim shook his head. "Sorry, Chief. Not yet. I was able to locate Jessie's mother."
The sudden stiffening by the three people sitting near him surprised Jim. Jessie's brother, Tony, bolted out of his seat, turned, and kicked his chair. Ellen watched him pace restlessly around the room.
Turning her eyes from her grandson to Blair, she said, "Detective Ellison. Vicki needs to be told about her daughter's death, of course." Taking a deep breath, she added, "But I know that Jessie wouldn't want her here. Whatever place her mother held in her life was destroyed by that woman a long time ago."
Jim watched his roommate as he nodded in agreement. Deciding to broach the subject later when they were alone, Jim nodded. "She said she couldn't come."
"That doesn't surprise me," Tony spat.
Jim turned away from Jessie's brother when he heard the sound of Simon's voice drifting down the hall which led to the morgue. He rose slowly and gently helped Ellen to her feet. Extending a hand to Blair, he pulled his friend up as Simon and Daniels entered the room.
Surveying the group, Simon said, "There's a room just down the hall where we can get some privacy."
************
"What can you tell us?" Daniels asked as he pushed his mother's chair closer to the table. He quickly sat down in a chair to her right, looking expectantly at the policemen.
"Blair told us that her keys were stolen the day before she was killed," Jim started, taking a seat next to Blair. "We believe whoever stole her keys killed her." He stopped talking when he saw Blair place his elbows on the table and drop his head into his hands.
"Your daughter put up quit a fight, Mr. Daniels," Simon said.
"Remember the time she broke my jaw," Tony interrupted, a slight smile on his face.
His father and grandmother nodded. Turning to Simon, Daniels explained, "My sons got into a lot of fights growing up. One day Tony, here, knocked over a project Jessie was working on during a fight with Mike. Jessie punched Tony square in the jaw and sent him crashing into a table. He broke his jaw and none of the boys fought around Jessie again."
Simon gave the family a moment for their memories before continuing, "The coroner found blood and skin under her nails. She also told me that Jessie's knuckles were bloody. Whoever killed her will have scratches and bruises."
"If you can catch him quickly," Ellen stated quietly.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Have you talked to Nancy?" Tony asked, pushing his chair back from the table.
"Nancy?" Jim asked.
"She was Jessie's roommate before Kendra," Blair explained, his voice quiet and dull. "Jessie was coming back from taking her home to Canada when I met her. Nancy's boyfriend had beaten her up. Again."
Turning to Tony, Simon asked, "What would Nancy know about this?"
"Jessie called me about two weeks ago and told me Nancy's ex-boyfriend had been by the apartment. She said he threatened to beat her if she didn't tell him where Nancy was. She hit him in the gut and then tossed him out. Jessie told me her neighbor came out and scared him off."
"How could her neighbor scare him?"
"He's some sort of cop."
Jim twisted in his chair to get a better look at his captain. "I wonder why he didn't say anything last night?"
"That's something we'll have to ask him. Does anyone know Nancy's phone number?"
Everyone shook their head.
"Omari Redding would know the boyfriend's name," Ellen said, quietly. "He and Jessie were best friends for about ten years."
Simon leaned back in his chair, nodding to himself. Swiftly planning what to do next, he said, "Jim, check on Jessie's neighbor." Jim nodded. "I'll call Mr. Redding and get the ex-boyfriend's name," Simon continued. Turning to the Daniels, he stated, "I'll have an officer give you a ride to your hotel."
"We'd like to go to Jessie's," Daniels said, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet.
"I'm sorry but I can't allow that at this time."
The man nodded before pulling his mother's chair back and helping her to her feet. Tony, Simon, and Jim rose as Ellen stood. Simon led the family out of the room, turning to see Jim staying behind with Blair. He nodded briefly before closing the door.
Jim placed a hand on Blair's shoulder, feeling the young man's muscles twitch slightly under his touch. Blair's head remained cradled in his hands; he hadn't moved even when he had spoken. Jim waited, his hand on Blair's shoulder. When his roommate didn't stir he leaned over and quietly said, "Why don't you let me take you home. You need to get some sleep."
Blair didn't respond. Moving his hand from the anthropologist's shoulder, Jim firmly grasped his upper arm and carefully pulled him to his feet. Blair allowed himself, unspeaking, to be escorted out of the conference room.
************
Jim opened the door, letting Blair into the loft. He watched as the young man walked numbly to his room. Jim knew Blair was exhausted, he hadn't slept or eaten since before Jessie's death. The kid wasn't going to be able to function much longer without at least getting some sleep but Jim didn't think he'd get to sleep without some help.
Jim moved swiftly to the kitchen and started opening cabinets, looking for the unopened bottle of whiskey an acquaintance had given him one Christmas. One day he was going to have to talk to Blair about rearranging the cabinets, Jim thought as he finally found the whiskey. Grabbing a clean glass out of the drain, he filled it with a large amount of the amber liquid. Blair wandered back into the main area of the loft as Jim dropped two pieces of ice into the drink. The detective walked around the kitchen island and pressed the glass into Blair's hand.
Jim was planning on staying with Blair when the young man said, "Don't you have work to do?"
The detective considered his options. Blair was right, he did have work to do but at the same time he didn't want to leave his grieving friend alone. He watched Blair sag onto the sofa, leaning forward to pick the TV remote off the table, and robotically turn on the set, effectively blocking out Jim. "I'll be back soon," Jim said over the sound of the television.
Blair shrugged. Reluctantly, Jim left him behind while he went to check on Jessie's neighbor.
Jim checked with the landlord and learned the neighbor's name was Gerald Schafer. Unfortunately, Mr. Schafer had moved out of his apartment four days before the attack on Jessie. The landlord told Jim that Schafer didn't leave a forwarding address.
He thanked the landlord for the information and returned to the station. Once he reached the station he asked a clerk to run Schafer's name through the computer. He was waiting for the results when Simon approached his desk.
"Did you get a name?"
Simon shook his head, sitting on the edge of the detective's desk. "Omari hasn't been home. I've left a message on his answering machine."
Jim leaned back in his seat. "What about Nancy? Could you reach her?"
Again Simon shook his head. He sounded frustrated as he said, "I checked with Jessie's family. They remembered Nancy's last name but not where she was from, other than Canada. Do you know how big Canada is?"
Jim scowled. "Don't tell me. She has a common last name."
"Sorry. Last name is Johnson."
"Great." Jim leaned further back in his seat, barely maintaining his precarious balance. He had a sudden realization and brought the chair down sharply. "Blair might know where she lived."
"How's that?"
"Blair met Jessie on the way back from taking Nancy home. She may have mentioned where Nancy lived. Even if all she told him was how long she was on the road, it would help."
Simon twisted on the desk and picked up the phone at his side. He turned back around and placed the phone in Jim's hand. "So what are you waiting for?"
Jim grinned as he dialed the loft. Listening to the unending peel of the phone, his smile slowly faded. He stood up before placing the receiver in its cradle.
"Blair's not answering," he said, plucking his coat from his chair.
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"Better stay here. Omari may call," he said as he pulled on his jacket and rapidly walked out of the department.
************
Jim reached the third floor landing, pausing to use his sensitive hearing to try and get a feel for the situation. He was concerned about Blair but at the same time he didn't want the kid to feel like he was checking up on him. It would be embarrassing for both men if it turned out that Blair had disconnected the phone and fallen asleep. The sound of breaking glass that reached his ears, however, was not the sound a sleeping man made.
Jim reached behind his back, pulling his gun from its clip, as he dashed down the hallway. When he reached the door he paused briefly before trying the knob. It turned easily in his hand and he flung the door open. The sound of something rushing towards his head struck his ears and he ducked just before a large, clear glass struck the door.
He swung around, bringing his gun up and aiming it at his attacker. Jim jerked the gun toward the ceiling when he saw that the only person in the loft was Blair. The young man plucked a saucer off the counter top and hurled it across the room.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!?!" Jim yelled as he swiftly crossed the space between the two men.
Blair either ignored Jim or didn't hear him. Jim couldn't be sure. He brushed his long, dark hair back, scanning the kitchen for something else to throw. Spotting the nearly empty bottle of whiskey, he snapped it out of the sink. Before Jim could stop him, he downed the bottle's remnants and prepared to heave it across the loft.
Jim grabbed the arm that held the bottle and wrenched it from Blair's hand. The younger man spun on his roommate, his eyes bloodshot and glassy. He didn't seem to recognize the detective standing in front of him.
"Let go of me," Blair slurred, trying to jerk his wrist from Jim's iron grip.
Jim tightened his grasp, causing Blair to gasp in pain. "Look what you've done," he said, pulling the drunken man into the main room. He grabbed Blair's chin with his free hand and forced him to look at the damage he had caused.
Blair blinked rapidly, trying to focus his eyes on the room. He stared at the destruction for a long time. The sight in front of him hit him hard, reminding him of Jessie's apartment. The rage, fueled by liquor, that he had been feeling turned into guilt and he allowed his body to slip to the ground.
Jim quickly released his hold on Blair as the young man dropped to his knees, sobbing. His body fell against Jim's leg and the detective's own anger melted away at the sight of his devastated friend. He reached a long arm down and gently placed a hand on Blair's dark hair, petting his head, saying, "It's okay. Nothing that can't be replaced."
Blair roughly shook his head, moving slightly away from Jim, pulling his knees tightly against his chest, and dropping his head against his knees. Jim eased himself to the floor, choosing to wait for Blair to speak.
His first words were incoherent, even for Jim, muffled by the young man's sobs and buried against his legs. Jim waited patiently for Blair to repeat what he had said.
"It's all my fault," he cried, lifting his tear streaked face toward Jim.
"What's your fault, Chief?" Jim quietly asked, not certain if he was talking about damage to the loft.
"Jessie," he choked out.
"You didn't kill her," Jim pointed out.
"I might as well have," he said, releasing his strangle-hold on his legs and placing his elbows on his knees. Putting the palms of his hands against his eyes, he continued, "I should have changed that lock when she told me about the keys being stolen."
"Did you think of it then?" Jim asked, inching closer to Blair.
"Yes," he admitted.
"Why didn't you change it then?"
Blair took a deep breath before replying in a whisper, "She told me not to worry about it."
"You offered to fix the lock and she refused. What happened wasn't your fault."
Slamming his fists against the floor, Blair yelled, "I should have insisted! I should have gone to the store and bought a new lock and changed it anyway!"
"Then whoever killed her would have broken the door down," Jim said, regaining his feet. "Anyone who steals keys isn't going to let a new lock stop him. He was probably expecting it."
Blair shook his head, refusing to let Jim's words assuage his guilt. Leaning over, Jim grasped him by the arm and pulled him to his feet. He started to let go of Blair when the young man swayed dangerously, nearly falling to the ground. Jim caught the slight man, gently picked him up, and carried Blair to his room.
Blair was exhausted and didn't fight when Jim put him down in a sitting position on his bed. The detective pulled off Blair's shoes and clothes and carefully pressed him into the bed. He pulled the covers over Blair's thin body and left the room.
Jim went to the kitchen and picked up the brush and dust pan. He turned his head toward the curtain over Blair's door and heard the deep, steady breathing of sleep emanating from the room.
Jim started to sweep up the broken glass when he spotted the small, gray jewelry box on the floor next to the sofa. He quickly crossed to the sofa and picked it up. Surprised by how light it felt in his hand, he opened the box to find that it was empty. Jim scanned the room, trying to locate the ring. He knew that Blair would feel terrible about the night's events when he woke. He didn't want the guilt the kid already felt to increase, which it would if the ring was lost.
Noticing a chip in one of the French windows leading to the balcony, Jim crossed the room, looking for a flash of light off the ring's gems. Not finding what he sought, Jim moved to the nearby sofa, hoping the ring had bounced in that direction. He dropped to his knees and felt under the sofa. Broken glass pricked his fingers as he swept his hand slowly back and forth. He started to pull his hand out from under the sofa when he felt cool metal under his fingers. Quickly closing his hand around a ring, he pulled his hand out from under the sofa. Holding the ring to the light, he sighed in relief at the sight of the single diamond surrounded by glittering emeralds.
************
Blair crept out of his bedroom to be greeted by the strong smell of coffee and the sight of Jim fixing scrambled eggs. His stomach lurched and he rushed to the bathroom. Jim was waiting outside the bathroom door when Blair finally came out, wiping his mouth.
"Here. If you'd rather have some herbal concoction just tell me what and I'll try and fix it."
Blair reached forward and took the offered cup in hesitant hands. Once more he wiped his mouth before saying, "Thanks, but I can't think with this headache."
"I made breakfast."
Looking uneasily at the eggs, Blair carefully shook his head. "Thanks, man. I think I'll pass."
Jim shrugged. He started to head back to the kitchen when the younger man reached forward and plucked at Jim's sleeve.
"Sorry about last night."
"Forget about it. You were upset. It's understandable."
Blair used both hands to raise the mug to his lips. He took a small sip of the strong coffee and then grimaced as he tried to keep the liquid down. Stiffly, he moved to take a seat on the sofa. He placed the mug on the coffee table before leaning back, running both of his hands through his hair. Bringing his hands back to his face, he pressed them hard against his eyes. He wished he could 'forget about it' but unfortunately it wasn't that simple. He wasn't one of those people who couldn't remember what they did when they were drunk. With amazing clarity, he remembered destroying most of the plates and glasses in a fit of rage. When he started tossing the plates the rage was directed against Jessie's killer but some time during the night the rage had turned against himself. When it had he had heaved the engagement ring across the room.
Recollecting his foolish actions, Blair sat up quickly, moaning when the throbbing in his head increased. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to ease the pain. When he opened them again, he was surprised to see Jim's hand holding the jewelry box in front of his eyes. He reached forward and nervously took the small, gray box from Jim. He opened the box to find the ring sitting unharmed inside. Blair's face lit up with the first smile Jim had seen since he found Jessie's body.
"I thought you might want that," Jim said.
Blair was about to respond when the phone rang, breaking the mood. Jim shrugged before turning to answer the phone. Still having trouble believing it wasn't lost, Blair lightly ran a finger over the ring, while Jim spoke quietly on the phone. The brief conversation over, Jim hung up the phone and grabbed his jacket off the rack. Shrugging into the jacket he went back to the sofa.
"That was Simon. He heard from Omari. Apparently he drove his sister home yesterday after doing the identification. He only got Simon's message this morning."
"Did he know the name of Nancy's ex?"
"Yeah, Jeff Handle. Simon's on his way to pick him up now."
"Let's go," Blair said, his hangover forgotten as he jumped off the sofa.
He was halfway to the door when Jim asked, "You sure you want to come?"
Blair reached the rack by the door and snatched up his jacket. He opened the door, pausing long enough to say, "I have to do this Jim. Please."
Jim nodded and followed his roommate out of the loft.
************
"Why are we at the station? Why aren't we meeting Simon at this guy's home?" Blair asked as he and Jim entered the department.
"Simon doesn't need our help picking this guy up," Jim answered as he crossed the office to join Captain Taggart near Simon's office.
"Simon back yet?" he asked.
"Yeah," Taggart replied. "He's got him in interrogation room two, now."
Jim turned around to find Blair on his heels. Pointing to his desk, he said, "You'll have to stay here, Chief."
"But that's the guy who killed Jessie!"
Jim grabbed Blair's arm as he tried to squeeze past Jim. Pulling the young man back and leading Blair to his desk, he said, "We don't know that yet."
"Yes, we do."
"No, Blair. We don't," Jim said as he forced Blair into a chair. "And I don't want you to mess things up if he is. Stay here."
Jim walked swiftly to the interrogation room. As he passed Taggart he asked, "Keep an eye on him, will you?"
"Sure, Jim."
Jim strode down the hall. Halfway down the hall, he saw the door to interrogation room two open. Jim picked up his pace and reached the door as Simon led a young man out. The man was Simon's height, bone-thin, with a shaved head. He wore a concert T-shirt for the group Alice in Chains and Jim could see track marks on the exposed skin of his arms. Jim moved aside as the man walked past, his hands shoved in his pockets.
Walking quickly to Simon's side, Jim asked, "Is that Handle?"
Simon nodded, watching the young man walk down the hall. "That's him."
"Why are you letting him go?"
Simon turned to Jim. Disappointment was evident in his voice when he said, "You saw him, Jim. He didn't have a mark on him. And I got a report from forensics last night after you left. It appears that Jessie got a good blow to her attacker's head with a lamp. Forensics found blood and hair on one of the pieces of a broken lamp. It wasn't Jessie's."
"Handle definitely didn't have any cuts on his head," Jim agreed, remembering the kid's cleanly shaved and unmarked skull. "He probably has an alibi, too."
"Best kind, if it checks out. He was in drug rehab until yesterday."
"It'll check out," Jim said. He was about to ask Simon about Schafer when he heard the sounds of a commotion coming down the hall. "Blair," he said, taking off in the direction of the disturbance.
Simon followed Jim at a run. They turned the corner to find Taggart holding a struggling Blair while two officers stood in front of a shaken Handle. Jim's sharp eyes saw blood trickling down the skin-head's chin from a split lip.
"Taggart, what happened?" Simon asked as Jim grabbed Blair's arm.
Taggart released Blair to Jim before turning to Simon. "Sandburg wanted to get out of the department so I came out here with him. He saw Handle and muttered something about knowing the guy. Before I knew it he started pounding on the guy."
Jim pulled Blair roughly to the end of the hall. "What the hell were you doing?" he demanded.
"That's Nancy's ex-boyfriend. I've seen pictures of him. He killed Jessie! Why are you letting him go?"
Jim tightened his grip on Blair's arm when he tried to jerk it away. He grabbed his other arm and forced the younger man against the wall.
"Let me go!"
"Not until you listen to me. Handle didn't kill Jessie."
Blair rolled his eyes, his expression proclaiming that he didn't believe the detective. Jim snapped him back, causing Blair's head to connect with the wall. He winced but didn't try to pull away from Jim.
"If you had bothered to take a look at Handle you would have seen that he didn't have a mark on his face. Simon told me that Jessie broke a lamp against the head of her attacker. Did you see any cuts on his head?"
Blair grudgingly shook his head. Jim released him, ready to grab Blair again if he made a wrong move. The younger man ran his hand through his long hair before slowly walking back into the Major Crimes department. Jim turned to see that Simon had the situation with Handle under control and followed his friend into the office.
************
"My office!" Simon yelled at Blair and Jim as he marched through the department.
Jim pushed himself off of his desk before reaching over to pull Blair out of Jim's chair. Reluctantly, Blair followed the detective into Simon's office.
Jim shut the door behind them as Blair eased into a chair. The young man took one look at Simon's angry face across the desk and immediately popped out of the seat. He turned away from the man's glare, walking over to peer out a window. Jim took two steps into the room and sat in the chair recently vacated by Blair.
Simon took his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He tossed the gold-framed glasses onto his desk before getting out of his seat and walking over to the silent man looking out his window.
"Just what did you think you were doing?" he asked Blair's back.
The young man shrugged. Without turning around he said, "I honestly don't know. I recognized him from a picture of Nancy that Jessie had shown me once."
"So you decided to attack the man."
Turning around to face the captain, Blair leaned against the window and sighed. "I'm sorry, Simon. I wasn't thinking."
"Damn right you weren't." His anger at the younger man spent, Simon went back to sit at his desk.
"Where does that leave us?" Jim asked from his seat in front of the desk.
"Not as bad off as your faces imply," Simon replied, dryly. "That report on Schafer came back after you left."
"Is he a cop?" Blair asked.
"Rent-a-cop is more like it. He works for some security company. Rhonda's checking on it now." Simon leaned back in his chair before continuing, "I found something else out when I spoke to Omari."
"What?" Jim asked, leaning forward.
"Kendra told him about this on the way to Wallace. It seems that Schafer might have a grudge against Jessie. He had been harassing a few of the female residents. Omari said that Jessie got them together and went to the owner. He was asked to leave the complex."
"Did you know about this?" Jim asked Blair.
The young man shook his head. His voice shook slightly as he said, "Jessie would help anyone but she had trouble asking for help. Said it went back to her years with her mother."
Simon nodded understandingly, leaving Jim confused. He still didn't understand the animosity towards the dead woman's mother but it appeared Simon could fill him in later. For the moment, Jim contented himself with solving the murder at hand.
"I wonder why the landlord didn't mention this?" he asked.
"Probably worried about being sued by Schafer," Simon guessed.
Jim was about to ask him if he had an address on Schafer when a quick, quiet knock interrupted their conversation. Rhonda opened the door and entered when Simon motioned her into the room. Closing the door behind her, she moved forward slightly to give her report.
"Handle's alibi checks out. He was at the THEE DOOR rehab center until yesterday."
Simon nodded. "What about Schafer?"
Rhonda took a step closer to her captain, excitement evident on her face. "I checked with Phoenix Security. Schafer hasn't reported to work since Miss Daniels' murder."
A slow smile crossed Simon's face, mirroring the one which appeared on Jim's face. Neither man thought Schafer's absence at work was a coincidence.
"Did you get an address on Schafer?"
"Yes sir," Rhonda replied, holding a piece of white paper in the air. "And I've already contacted the judge about arrest and search warrants."
"Good job, Rhonda. Remind me I owe you a raise."
"Yes, sir."
Simon nodded to Jim. The detective, understanding Simon's unspoken orders, quickly rose and took the piece of paper from Rhonda. He heard Blair take a hesitant step in his direction and turned to regard the younger man.
"Can you keep yourself under control?"
Blair hesitated briefly before responding, "I think so."
Jim regarded his friend for a long time. If he had answered quickly Jim wouldn't have believed him but Blair had hesitated. Finally, Jim nodded and held the door open for Blair.
"Are you sure about this?" Simon asked, stopping Jim at the door.
Jim shrugged. "He'll think twice before he does anything stupid," he said before leaving the office. On the other side of the door, he quietly added, "I hope."
************
Jim's Ford pulled in front of the address supplied by Phoenix Security, just ahead of a Cascade police car. Blair was about to open his door when Jim reached over and put a restraining hand on his shoulder.
"No, Blair. You stay in the car."
"But I want to be there when you arrest him," Blair protested.
"Sorry, Chief. I don't want a sharp defense attorney to get evidence thrown out because you couldn't control your temper."
"Jim. Please. I can do this."
Jim shook his head. "Stay here. For once do what I ask."
Blair jerked his shoulder away from Jim's touch. He turned his back on his friend but made no move to open the door. Jim hesitated, wanting to reassure Blair, to tell him that he could come after all. He shook his head; the young man's emotions were controlling him, making him act without thinking about the consequences. He was better off in the truck.
Jim climbed out of the truck and quickly went over to the patrol car. He rapidly explained what they would be doing before leading the men into the building. They went through the lobby and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Swiftly and quietly they walked down the hall, stopping in front of apartment 221.
Jim rapped hard against the door. "Schafer! Cascade PD. Open up!"
The officers waited. Hearing no one coming to the door, Jim nodded to the officer to his left. The man backed up a step. Taking a quick step forward, he slammed his foot against the door, next to the knob. The weak wood broke around the lock and swung into the apartment.
"Move in," Jim whispered. He didn't hear anyone inside the apartment but he didn't want to take any chances. He also didn't want to give the other officers any reason to suspect that there was something unusual about him.
They moved quickly through the apartment, around the unopened boxes that marked Schafer's recent move. The slight smell of blood drew Jim to the bathroom. Entering the room, he looked around until he spotted the trash can. Pulling surgical gloves out of his pocket and putting them on, he went over to the garbage can. Jim picked up the can and put it in the sink. He saw several bloodstained gauze pads and pulled out a few, quickly putting them into a plastic evidence bag.
"Detective Ellison," he heard one of the officer's call. Abandoning the bathroom, Jim quickly went to kitchen.
"What do you have, Belk?"
"Schafer's gone," the young officer replied. "But I did find these," he added, holding up a set of keys in a gloved hand.
Jim reached forward and carefully took the keys from Belk. He was particularly careful not to smudge any prints that might be on the small, painted, metal Barney Rubble keychain. He recognized the chain. Jessie had once told Blair that she adored Barney and he had dragged Jim to several stores before finally finding this particular keychain. Just to be sure, Jim turned Barney over to reveal the engraving on the back, "To my Betty, Love Blair."
Sighing, Jim dropped the chain into the bag offered to him by Officer Belk. "It's Jessie Daniels'. Did you find any evidence that Schafer won't be coming back?"
Shaking his head, Belk said, "No, sir. Matter of fact, Culbreth found $150 on top of the TV. He'll be back."
"Not with that patrol car parked in front of the building," Jim said. Heading to the door, he said, "Let's get out of here. Move your car out of sight and we'll wait for Schafer to return."
************
Blair sat, waiting impatiently, in Jim's truck. He finally decided he couldn't stay in the vehicle any longer. Blair didn't think Jim could get too angry with him if he didn't go into the building so he opened the truck door. He jumped out and started pacing in front of the apartment building. Quickly, he grew tired of pacing and climbed on top of the hood of the truck.
As he sat on the hood he observed a muscular man of medium height walking down the sidewalk. The man held a bag of groceries in one arm and wore a gray, hooded, sweatshirt. The hood of the sweatshirt was around the man's head and it caught Blair's curiosity. It was a cool day but not cool enough for someone to wear the sweatshirt hood.
The man reached the truck and cast a questioning glance in Blair's direction. The young man sat up straight when he noticed that the stranger had a black eye, a scratched cheek, and a swollen lip. Blair was trying to remember if he'd ever met Gerald Schafer when the man suddenly stopped in his tracks. Blair twisted, trying to follow the battered man's line of sight. He saw the police car that had previously been hidden from the man's view by Jim's truck. Blair turned back around to see the stranger casting furtive glances from him to the patrol car and to the apartment building.
Blair was about to jump off of the hood of the truck when Jim and the two officers came out of the building. Before Jim or Blair had a chance to react, the man Blair was now sure was Schafer charged over to the anthropologist and pulled him off the truck. He locked an arm around Blair's neck and pulled him around to shield himself from the officers.
Pulling a switchblade out of his back pocket, Schafer placed the point against Blair's cheek. "Get back!" he yelled. "I'll kill this guy."
Jim motioned the uniformed officers back into the building. He started to move slowly toward the two men in front of the truck but stopped quickly when Schafer pressed the blade roughly against Blair's cheek, drawing blood. Schafer also tightened his strangle hold on the young man's neck, making it difficult for Blair to breath. He strained to pull Schafer's arm from his neck but to no avail.
"Where are the keys to this thing?" Schafer asked, jerking his head at the truck.
Jim quickly fished them out of his pocket, holding them up for Schafer to see. Certain Schafer would have to release his hold on Blair to pick up the keys, Jim was about to toss them to the man when Schafer told him to stop.
"Put them in the truck!" he demanded, tightening his arm around Blair's neck, completely cutting off his supply of air. Jim knew his friend couldn't breath and decided to comply with Schafer's demands. He started to walk over to the truck when Blair's knees buckled.
Schafer briefly turned his attention away from the detective as he loosened his hold on Blair's neck and pulled the knife away from his head. The anthropologist surprised Jim and his captor by suddenly jerking up, slamming the top of his head against Schafer's chin. Both men were stunned by the blow. Blair fell to his knees, clasping a hand to his head, while Schafer stumbled back. He was stumbling toward the stunned anthropologist when Jim crossed the distance between them and tackled the killer. Both men crashed to the ground, Jim on top and Schafer's head slamming into the asphalt. Jim quickly got to his knees, straddling Schafer. When the murderer didn't move he dropped a hand to the man's neck. He released his breath in relief when he felt the strong pulse beneath his fingertips.
Jim quickly cuffed the unconscious man before getting to his feet and moving swiftly to Blair's side. The officers came out of the apartment building and rushed to Schafer. While they guarded the killer, Jim knelt down beside his friend and pulled the young man's hand away from his head. Carefully, he examined Blair's skull before turning the young man's head to check the cut on his face.
"You'll be fine," he said as he stood. He pulled Blair to his feet, maintaining his hold on the young man's arm until he was able to stand without support.
"Sorry," Blair said, rubbing his sore head. "I just couldn't stay in the truck."
Jim waved his apology off. "Forget it. Great move," he said, truly impressed by the young man's actions. "I thought you were passing out."
Blair blushed at the praise. "Actually, I was," he confessed. "I just couldn't let Schafer get away."
************
Simon pulled some strings and acquired permission for Blair and Jessie's family to attend Jessie's casket when it was loaded on the plane. He and Jim stood on either side of the younger man as they watched the gray metal crate which contained the casket slowly glide up the loading belt. Two men in the plane carefully pulled the crate in and out of sight.
Blair continued to stare at the opening to the plane for a long time. He finally dragged his attention away when Jim laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. The reassuring touch fell away from his shoulder as he nodded. Taking a deep breath, Blair walked over to Jessie's family. Her four brothers and sister stood behind her father and grandmother, united in their grief. Blair reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the jewelry box he'd been carrying around since before Jessie died.
Holding the box out to Jacob Daniels, Blair said, "I was going to ask Jessie to marry me." His throat threatened to squeeze shut and Blair was forced to take a deep breath before continuing, "I'd like her to be buried with it."
Ellen Daniels gently took the box from Blair. Opening the lid, she gasped before looking back to the young man standing in front of her. There were tears in her eyes as she said, "I know my granddaughter would have said yes. I'll make sure she has this."
Daniels nodded in agreement, barely able to contain his tears. "You are coming to Wallace with us?"
Blair nodded, mutely. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Jim and Simon come up behind him.
Jim said, "Blair and I will both be coming." Noticing the confused look on the faces of the older Daniels children, he said, "Jessie was my friend, too."
Simon cleared his throat to gain the attention of the people in front of him. "I'm sorry folks, but they're motioning for you to board the plane."
Jacob Daniels gently took his mother's arm and the Daniels family moved past Jim and Blair as Simon escorted them to the airline officials waiting nearby. Jim waited beside Blair as he took one last look at the place where Jessie's casket had disappeared.
"Are you going to be okay?"
Blair didn't respond for a long time. Jim was certain he hadn't heard and was about to put his hand on the young man's shoulder to gain his attention when Blair finally nodded.
"I miss her," he whispered.
"We all do."
Blair roughly shook his head. Unable to hold back the tears, he asked, "How am I going to make it without her?"
Jim put his arm around the grieving man's shoulders. He gently led him over to Simon, saying, "One day at time. One day at a time."
The End
What did you think of the story? Liked it? Hated it? Let me know. Laura
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